Flames

Chapter 21

His hair was gelled, his robes were ironed and his black leather boots shimmering.

All Hydrus needed now was a smile to perfect his look.

Try as he might, it never came. His cheeks trembled, and his lips twisted into grimaces so bizarre that Hannah Abbott stared at him throughout the appetizer course.

There was little he could do to console himself. Narcissa sat beside him, ever the image of professionalism. Her hair was pinned back with a silver-and-green clip, and every time she smiled, perfect dimples sprouted on her cheeks. She was happier, happier than she had any right to be at a stiff Ministry event.

To his other side was Draco. He made his polite conversation with Pansy, and paid little attention to Hydrus, which he supposed was more than he deserved.

The room was filled with loud conversation, and as he took it in, his insides squeezed when he saw Belvina.

Jewels ringed her neck, wrists and fingers, glinting beautifully in the light. She sat with Andromeda, mere seats away.

The courses came and went: roasted duck, stuffed with potatoes and rosemary, beef wellington cooked to a pink medium rare, slices of bitter chocolate cake that melted on his tongue, and creme brulee, soft and creamy. There were more - plates upon plates of food that came and went, as he stared at the wall.

Throughout, Hydrus shifted awkwardly in his seat, moving to one side of the chair, then the other. The knife, the beautiful, ornately carved, silver-and-gold knife that Professor Quirrell gave him, was strapped to his side, underneath the thick folds of his robes. Sometimes, it stabbed him in the leg, other times, it tangled between his thighs. But the worst part was the weight of all of it.

The sheer moral weight, knowing that he might have to slit her throat and watch as blood sprayed all over her...

The tables were cleared, the chairs whisked away by invisible house-elves, and one by one, rich purebloods and high-up Ministerial workers began to mingle.

Hydrus stayed in the fringes of the crowd, holding a glass filled with dark purple wine. The taste was rich and thick, of sour grapes that made him wince. He had never drunk wine before, and by the third sip, his head was spinning.

It was a strange impulse that took hold of him. He could not remember ever wanting to try wine, and yet, with every sip, he only wanted more.

Lucius had forbidden him and Draco from drinking, but he was across the room, talking to Cornelius Fudge. There was no one here to stop him.

Belvina stood twenty paces away from him, in shimmering emerald robes. She was surrounded by witches and wizards. Carefully, his hand slithered into his breast pocket. The glass was cool in his fingers, and it felt heavier than it should have, as if the poison was true gold.

He drained the glass by the tenth sip, and when he set it down, Hannah Abbott was making her way to him.

After the heartfelt letter he had written to her, there were no more words passed between, for they shared no classes, and Hogwarts was so vast it was easy to get lost.

There was not much to be said between them, and Hydrus was in no fit state to make conversation. With his head pounding, he excused himself.

"Maybe drink less wine?" Hannah Abbott suggested teasingly, her blonde hair pulled into a twist.

"Yes," Hydrus said distantly.

When he got up, his legs almost collapsed under him. She was there to catch him.

Taking her help with embarrassed thanks, he steadied himself, leaning against a table, before walking off awkwardly from the room.

Absently, he took another glass of wine from a passing table of refreshments. It was a different colour this time, pink-and-yellow like a sunrise. It tasted of raspberries and lemon, like sour oranges with a queer aftertaste. Much better than the wine from before.