Serpentine [T.M. Riddle]

Interlude IV: Ximena

Her partner tilts her head, pausing in her own practice, "Well--There are a lot of accidental castings during the movement trials."

A nod in reply, "When I'm demonstrating for the younger students, I always use something else rather than a wand." She once used a breadstick! It was a very good breadstick. She's hungry.

The girl smiles, "Well not everyone can be as smart as you, can they?"

A hum, "It's not that hard, it's a very low bar."

She gently shoves her, "You mamzer.[2]"

Martha was her name, that's right, she remembers now. "It's not fair to be called a bastard when I don't know if I can dispute it or not." Ximena gives her a little smile, because Martha is her friend (they're friends, right?)

When they pack up to go to their next class, she puts her Charms textbook back into her shoulder bag and finds a book on magical languages--How long has that been there?

She walks to Slughorn's class with a tune in her head.

Fawley-in-her-year awaits her as always, eager to start and gossip about the latest happenings with their year. Ximena finds her tiring, but kind, "Good afternoon, Eris."

"Ximena!" She claps once, "Mama wanted me to inquire what you might like for your nameday!"

A blink--Her nameday, she supposes, was the day she was given Ximena Lane as an identity. But Fawley-in-her-year probably means birthday, "Something for me?"

If Eris (that's definitely her name, Euphoria is the third eldest) replies to Ximena, it never registers, because in a blink, she's already crushing ingredients and sprinkling them in her secondhand cauldron. Usually this would annoy her, but potions is a bit of a safe space for her. It's the closest subject to cooking. Read the recipe, write over it, make adjustments, measure ingredients, pick them, smell them, grade them, grind them in the mortar and pestle, thinly slice with a silver knife, grate with iron grater (careful not to cut your skin, it will never heal), juice by squeezing it with your bare hand. Let the sweet nectar of the fruit drip over the skin of your fingers like blood from the still beating heart of a maenad--

Oh well shit, that's a little intense. Ximena squints at the recipe, wondering if she's developed wordblindness[3] (strephosymbolia, that's what it's called, she read about it in an article she was able to snag from the Muggle Studies teacher). She hasn't. The potion had just been translated from Czech. They're often a little intense. She tries to replicate the feeling of holding a still beating heart in her hand anyways.

She's never had a heart, though she's seen it available at the butcher shops she accompanies the sisters to. It's a tough muscle and seems like it would be difficult to chew. Chewy textures aren't fun. It takes forever to swallow meat when it's over chewed, and then it just lingers in your mouth until your spirit is broken enough to just give up and spit it out.

But Ximena wasn't taught to waste food. She'd get scolded. Occasionally smacked (never too hard, though it left the tops of her hands stinging). Even if she had a mouthful of leeches, she'd swallow it all.

Luckily Hogwarts has such excellent meals (she still hasn't figured out how the house elves know how to make her food--she's asked, at least she thinks she has, she's so sure she has, how could she have not asked?). Made with pride and love by the elves in the kitchens--That's ignoring the part of her brain that screams that their position in life is awful. It's a very hard part to ignore. Bonnibel (no, that's not right, her name is something else, she doesn't like being called Bonnibel, she should remember what her name is--) shared a few theories as to why they're so happy in their captivity, and Ximena understands none of them. She'd ask them herself, but she knows it would come off as rude. Would it though? Would it be rude? She should ask Not-Bonnibel. She knows so much, it feels like she holds all the knowledge on food in the world. For example: Hogwarts shares Guest Rights with every student and faculty that ever eats in the Great Hall. This is something Elle told her, over latkes last Friday (Elle! That was her name. A good name.) Ximena has an utter fascination with the Hufflepuff's hands when they're cooking--So precise, so knowledgeable, so gentle. Her fingernails are always clean and trimmed, and Ximena's are often bitten off. Youngest Fawley (her name is definitely not Euphoria) advised her to squeeze lemon onto her fingertips to stop the habit, but biting off her nails is comforting to her. It's something she's in control of. It also helps her not scratch herself when--