The Disgraced of the House of Black - A Multi-Character Fanfiction - Part Two

220. Targeted

Nervously, Althea led him down the train, glancing around for a place they could talk, unobserved. At long last, she came to a stop at the end of the train, looking around nervously for wandering eyes. Finally, she turned to face him, her hands shaking as she clutched them together anxiously.

"Althea, what's going on?" Neville asked, his brows furrowed in worry as he look in her scared expression and trembling hands.

"Neville, I don't know who else to talk to about this," Althea whispered, her voice shaking. "I was going to tell Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but they've got so much to worry about already and I didn't want to see their horrified expressions. But I just feel like I need to-"

"Althea, what's going on?" Neville pressed, catching her hands in his own.

Althea released a shuttering breath, her gaze locked on their hands before she looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears before one fell, sliding down her cheek.

Wiping it away, she said, "Do you remember that Death Eater? The one at the Ministry who...who..."

"Lyra Malfoy, yeah," Neville said, his brows furrowed in concern.

"Well, she...oh, Neville, she's...She's targeting me," Althea finally admitted.

Paling slightly, Neville asked, "Targeting? Do you mean she wants to kill-"

"No," Althea whispered, sniffling as more tears ran down her cheeks. She was silent so long Neville thought she wouldn't speak before finally, she met his gaze and whispered shakily, "She wants to torture me until I don't know who I am anymore."

"No!" Neville shouted, tightening his grip on her hands. "Althea, I won't let her! Not you, not you too!"

Althea closed her eyes as more tears fell. She could not bring herself to speak. Neville calmed at the sight, wrapping his arms around her. Burying her head in his chest, Althea began to cry in earnest, keeping a tight grip on him as he held her close.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Neville said softly. "I will die before I let that happen, Althea."

"I don't want to lose you," Althea whispered shakily as more tears fell.

Neville said nothing, continuing to hold her close.

.

When at long last the two of them returned to the compartment, it was to find Ron and Hermione had joined them.

"You two took your time," Harry said with a grin as they sat back down, but his smile quickly fell at the sight of Althea's red eyes.

Neither said a word as Althea drew back out her potions textbook.

"Guess what?" Ron said, turning to Harry. "Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

"What did he do when he saw you?" Harry asked, sitting up straighter.

"The usual," Ron said with an indifferent shrug. "Not like him, though, is it? Why isn't he out there bullying first years."

"Maybe he finally matured," Althea said sardonically, making Ron snort doubtfully.

"Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," Hermione suggested. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."

"I don't think so," Harry said. "I think he's..."

Before he could finish his thought, however, the compartment door opened, revealing a breathless third-year girl.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Harry Potter, and Althea Black," she explained breathlessly, holding out three rolls of parchment tied with purple ribbon.

Sharing confused looks, the three of them took their note and began to unroll them as Ron demanded, "What is it?"

"An invitation," Althea explained.

Althea,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely,
Professor H. E. F. Slughorn

"Well," she said softly, looking up.

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" Neville asked.

"New teacher," Harry explained. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But...what does he want me for?" Neville asked nervously.

"No idea," Harry admitted.

Althea tucked her book under her arm and opened the compartment door, looking back at the boys as she said with a shrug, "Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

The walk to compartment C was filled with even more staring than it had been when they first got on the train, but Althea tried to ignore this.

"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn cried enthusiastically the moment they arrived, jumping to his feet and shaking his hand. Turning to Althea and Neville, he said, "And you, of course, I recognize you, Miss Black. Look just like your mother, you do. And you must be Mr Longbottom!"

Neville nodded, looking scared. Althea smiled slightly, taking his hand in her own and giving it a comforting squeeze. Truthfully, she had as little indication of why she was here as Neville did. At Slughorn's indication, they took the only remaining seats right by the door. When Slughorn had sat down, Althea glanced around the compartment, looking for the first time to try and see who else had been invited. There were two seventh years she did not know, a Slytherin from their year she was almost sure was named Blaise, and lastly, Ginny.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked them. "Blaise Zabini is in your year, of course."

Blaise barely gave them a glance.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other?" Slughorn resumed, gesturing to a large seventh-year boy who waved at them. "And this is Marcus Belby. And this charming young lady tells me she knows you." After a short pause, Slughorn resumed, "Well, now, this is most pleasant. A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on liquorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things...Pheasant Belby?"