Ripped Away

Year Two: Howlers, Lovegoods and Mandrakes

After she finished laughing her ass off about Ronald's terrible plan to get back to school failing miserably, Heracles bade goodnight to the professors and went to the Slytherin dormitory. Unsurprisingly, she was rooming on her own again in a dorm built for six. Parkinson had been one of her 'roommates' again and had incited another Heracles-boycott with the other girls, and they would be staying in a separate room, or that was at least what the rudely worded letter Heracles found on her bed said. There was also another letter, one from Charlie. It said Ortho and Norbert had been successfully transferred to the Forbidden Forest, and were settling in nicely.

After taking the time to unpack her things, Heracles turned in for the night and dreamed of swords and being covered in Quirrell's blood. She would have to start brewing Dreamless Sleep potions again, regardless of Madam Pomfrey's insistence that she never take those potions again after her near overdose last year.

When Heracles got up and made her way down to breakfast, she went to sit between the twins at the Gryffindor table, avoiding the Slytherin table all together. Several first years looked at her in confusion for this, and Malfoy glared at her, but Heracles ignored them. She also ignored Malfoy's shocked and enraged look when he caught sight of her lovely new cane/back up, trace-free wand. Ah the merits of theft. Heracles grinned when she saw Neville, who was sitting across from the twins at the table and beside Ginny, who had apparently made it into Gryffindor last night. Both of her friends waved at her as she sat down.

"Hey Nev, have a nice summer?", she asked, wanting to catch up with her friend she hadn't seen in weeks. Neville nodded.

"Yep. Gran took me to see a Quidditch match. It was fun, but I wasn't fond of all the noise. Sorry I couldn't come to your birthday, by the way. I was planning on surprising you at your house so we could celebrate our birthdays together, but imagine my surprise when Kreacher apparated into my room and told me that those two had kidnapped you to the Burrow.", Neville said with amused crossness as he looked pointedly at the twins. Fred and George snickered at him, and Heracles raised an eyebrow when Neville said 'our birthdays'.

"Our birthdays? What do you mean?", she asked. Neville blinked at her in bewilderment.

"You mean you don't know? My birthday is on the thirtieth of July. It's only a day apart from yours.", Neville explained, and Heracles felt something within her freeze.

The prophecy. That stupid prophecy Dumbledore put so much stock in, the one that had controlled her life the moment she arrived back on earth, could have technically applied to Neville. He fit the birth requirements. His parents had been renowned Auror's that had frequently defied Tom. Tom could have chosen Neville. He could have attacked him and not Heracles. If he had done that, things would be so different. There would be no magical strings of fate tying her to earth, no righteous duties to a world that never cared about her... she would have been unburdened.

Heracles stopped that train of thought the second she looked into Neville's eyes, however. Neville, sweet Neville who had stuck by her even when she did nothing but cause him to worry and act like a loon, didn't deserve her fate. He didn't deserve the task of having to take down a madman. But neither did Heracles, and the unfairness of it all wasn't lost on her.

Then, as if someone had been reading her mind (which shouldn't be possible, since she had her occlumency shields up), a finger tapped her on the shoulder. Heracles whipped around to see who had done it, and was surprised by what she saw. In front of her, there was a first year Ravenclaw girl with wispy white-blonde hair, huge silver eyes, and earrings in the shape of radishes. The girl gave Heracles a dreamy smile.

"So sorry to disturb you, but I just thought I should check and see if you're alright. Your head is infested with Wrackspurts, you see.", the girl said in an airy voice.