Eva swirled her glistening ladle in the pale, bluish contents of her cauldron, trying and failing to keep her focus on the old potions text —'three stirs clockwise, two stirs counter clockwise'— through the ever-present haze thickening the dungeon air. The only thing occupying her mind was her walk down to the dungeons— or rather, her company on the walk down. The skin on and in the nooks between her knuckles still felt the fleeting touches that had graced her at the minute swings of her and Tom's arms as they'd walked.
She abandoned her ladle to ghost her own fingers over the patch of skin upon which his touch still lingered in all its glorious ecstasy. It had been months since Tom had first driven her into delightful oblivion with the simple act of putting his skin against hers. Her body no longer reacted by momentarily losing all its functions, but she still craved the feeling of bonding from his firm, confident touch against her starved, sensitive skin.
Long story short, she sincerely hoped neither she or Tom would ever discover just how much control he could gain over her with just his body. For all her skill and power, nothing could keep her above water when it came down to human touch. The thought was utterly terrifying to Eva, and even a little (read: a lot) enthralling.
Her attention returned to the next directions in the potions text.
'Add an ounce of female boomslang skin and let simmer until the cyan concoction turns a brilliant shade of purple,' it read.
Eva mumbled the mentioned ingredient under her breath as she searched her workspace for it, only to find that she had acquired not female, but male boomslang skin at the beginning of class. Cursing under her breath, she alleviated the fire below her cauldron and turned towards the ingredients cupboard again. A small smile graced her lips when she saw Laurent and Abraxas engaging in a playful banter while obtaining ingredients of their own. It widened when Laurent turned over his shoulder and made eye contact with her as she headed in their direction.
He, however, quickly sobered and mumbled something to Abraxas that made him straighten his back and glance in a different direction. The corners of Eva's lips turned back down as she followed the blond boy's gaze to see him looking at Riddle's turned back with a solemn expression. Her brows knitted as Laurent quickly began to make his way away from the cupboard empty handed. Abraxas looked away from Tom back to the cupboard with a resigned sigh.
Eva stepped into the deserted space beside Abraxas. "He doesn't want to talk to me."
It was less of a question and more of a statement.
Another sigh pulled at Abraxas' robed shoulders.
"I can't say much, I'm afraid, but I don't think either of us can talk to you anymore." His eyes flickered back over to Tom, who was still busy with his cauldron.
"Riddle said something to you?" There was a note of disbelief in her voice, and this time it really was a question.
"No," he said sharply. There was an air of finality to his tone, but Eva disregarded it.
"Why does he have any level of control over who I do and do not speak to?" The argument came out hard, disgusted.
"He doesn't." Abraxas finally made eye contact with her. He swallowed hard before continuing in a low, slightly apologetic voice, "But he does have control over who we do and do not speak to."
And with that cryptic disclosure, he made to leave, a bottle of purple powder clutched tightly in his fist, but Eva wasn't having it.
She reached out an arm and touched his shoulder gently, but just enough to halt him in his movements. "Listen, Abraxas, I don't know what kind of fucked up cult has you guys answering to Riddle's every whim and fancy, but I just want to know a few things that I can guarantee you have nothing to do with it."
He turned back towards her, looking slightly taken back, but held his hands out on either side of him after a second and raised his eyebrows as if to say, go ahead.
Eva flushed a little when she realized she had no idea how to begin this conversation before quickly blurting out, "Why do you and Laurent hide your love?"
This was clearly the wrong thing to say, because Abraxas' face went at least three shades paler than its usual patented Malfoy ivory.
"What?" he hissed, almost menacingly.
Eva's eyes widened; she hadn't realized this was such a taboo topic. "I... er.. just meant, I mean... you are in love, aren't you?"
He looked close to denying it, but the sheer uncertainty in Eva's demeanor must have changed his mind because the next second, he dropped his eyes to the ground and ran an agitated hand through his pristine platinum hair.
"Yes." He looked back up with a threatening glare, "And you're not going to tell anyone. If you have a problem with it..." He trailed off, looking rather lost.
"I won't!" Eva hurried to fill in the silence. "But I don't understand. Why?"
All the hostility melted from Abraxas' disposition to be replaced with curiosity. "Was Beauxbatons queer-friendly?"
Panic took over as the Ravenclaw realized this dent in her knowledge of the Wizarding World could very well be the downfall of her cover story.
"We..." she scrambled to recover, "never quite got to discussing them-... er, queers?"
His lips pressed together before he continued bluntly, "Right, well. We'll be punished if we're found out. So it is imperative that you keep this strictly between you, Laurent, and me. Now if that's all...?"
Eva stared at his challenging expression for a moment. He was clearly hoping that was all she wanted, but she decided that if she had already offended him with her lack of common knowledge, she might as well get the rest of the answers she wanted.
Putting all her effort into not feeling extremely unworthy of Ravenclaw House, she took a deep breath and spoke again, "What is it like? To... fall in love?"
For the first time since Eva had met Abraxas, his eyes softened toward someone other than his clandestine lover. "Eva," he began, looking as though he was choosing his words very carefully. "Love feels different for everyone. It isn't a social construct to be studied and replicated. I really am sorry that I can't gift you the feeling in words."
Upon hearing the disappointment dripping off of Eva's response —"oh,"— Abraxas exhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes aggressively with his palms, as if bracing himself to say something he would regret.
He shoved his hands in his pockets in what was most likely an attempt to appear nonchalant and continued, "The only thing about love that I'm sure remains constant for everyone is that it isn't easy. Because... you don't choose any of it. It's something akin to a natural disaster; beautiful for the sheer force and power of it, but terrifying and devastating for the same reasons. It comes out of nowhere, and you don't have the apparatus to defend yourself."
Eva's mouth had dropped slightly open at the fruit of his vulnerability, but she still needed more. "And then?"
The Slytherin boy swallowed hard and looked back at Laurent, who was watching them with a panicked expression. His eyes slid quickly over to Tom, who had finally taken his attention off his brewing to narrow his eyes at the pair. He huffed in annoyance (whether it was directed at Riddle's hawk-eyed supervision or Eva's relentless interrogation, it was unclear) and looked back towards Laurent as he spoke his next words. "And then... either the root of it comes to kiss your wounds better, to turn hail to snowflakes, wildfires into burning kisses or... they don't. And you're left to fend for yourself."
He turned abruptly back to Eva with an unyielding look. "If Riddle asks, I was waxing lyrical to you about how good he looks in a suit." This time, he left without leaving any room for further inquisition.
Riddle looked as though he was just about to make his way over when Slughorn announced that he would be making rounds to evaluate the finished potions. Mind overwhelmed with a flood of unorganized thoughts, Eva grabbed a female boomslang skin and rushed back to her cauldron to finish brewing her assignment.
The last few minutes of the class ticked by for Eva in a cacophony of Slughorn's "splendid job!"'s and "better pay closer attention next time"'s, hushed by her distracted mind. She was shaken out of her own mind when Slughorn called her own name out of the rush of the leaving classroom.
The same group of people he had summoned at the end of their first lesson reconvened at the Potions Master's desk. Riddle and Nott were silent as statues, while Abraxas and Laurent were speaking in hushed tones that ceased when Slughorn began to address the group.
"Our first Slug Club dinner will be the night before the Christmas Holidays begin and, as I'm aware that a large majority of the group will be staying over break, another on the last Friday of the Holidays. I'm quite tickled to get to know you all better... and your dates if you wish to bring one." At this, Laurent's lips went from a line of distress to a conspiratorial grin and he elbowed Abraxas, to receive an amused eye roll in return.
To anyone else, the two boys would look like nothing more than best mates, possibly ribbing each other about asking out the respective 'birds' they fancied. Of course, Eva knew better and, judging by the empty sideway glance he shot them, Tom did as well.
"Well, if no one has any timing conflicts, then it's off to dinner in the Great Hall with you all. Off you go, now!" The chubby man shooed them out of the dark dungeons with two jovial hands.
Eva caught Laurent's eye as they exited the dungeons and gave him the barest of nods to show that she wasn't hurt by his evasion of her. The grin left over from his repartee with Abraxas melted into a small, regretful smile and he nodded in response before turning away again.
Upon arrival in the Great Hall, Eva took a spot next to Cassi as Myrtle approached to join them, as usual.
Out of the corner of her eye, Eva noticed a sandwich on her blonde friend's plate. Even as she started to eat more these past few months, this was the first piece of bread she had seen Cassi attempt to eat; she seemed to have a considerable fear of grains. Eva contemplated briefly about making an encouraging comment on it, but quickly banished the thought as she remembered that the thing that had gotten Cassi this far in her journey was putting effort into not thinking about her food.
When she turned towards Eva with a soft, esoteric smile, she opted for for an unrelated compliment in its stead, "I've never noticed how bloody doe-like your eyes are, Cassi, love."
Cassi's smile widened along with her pale blue eyes before she replied simply, "You're very kind, Eva."
She nudged her friend gently, "Don't mention it."
Myrtle opened her mouth to say something in greeting as she sat across from the pair, but was cut off by a male shriek coming from the Hufflepuff table that prompted the entire Hall to startle and turn toward the source. All eyes were suddenly glued to a small red envelope folded into a rectangular face whose mouth was moving animatedly to cry at the stony-faced badger before it.
"I CANNOT BELIEVE THE NERVE OF YOU, ERNELLA!" Each accented word and rolled 'r' was punctuated by a flicker of the Howler's snakelike paper tongue. "DISREGARDING YOUR PARENTS' WISHES LIKE A COMMON GRYFFINDOR"—at this, Gryffindor table split into equal parts rage and smugness— "WHEN YOUR MOTHER AND I DEMANDED THAT YOU RETURN HOME FROM THAT WRETCHED SCHOOL, WE MEANT IMMEDIATELY. I WILL NOT HAVE YOU AT RISK OF TURNING INTO A STATUE SIMPLY BECAUSE DIPPET CANNOT KEEP HIS OWN SCHOOL'S MAGIC UNDER CONTROL. PACK YOUR BAGS THIS INSTANT AND ARRANGE A RIDE HOME, YOUNG LADY."
With that, the letter shredded itself up into the recipient's pie, leaving Ernella to blink furiously in a successful attempt to keep tears from escaping their lower waterline. The girl next to them reached out a hesitant hand, but was ignored as Ernella rose from their seat and left (presumably to follow their father's clear instructions).
Dippet looked uncomfortable. When students began to turn their attention to him, he immediately turned to consult the auburn-bearded Transfiguration professor. Eva had noticed this to be a trend in the headmaster's behavior, and briefly wondered why Dumbledore had not yet taken the other man's position of higher authority.
Remembering the conversation she had overheard with Tom in the secret passageway behind the one-eyed witch, she found the Slytherin boy and caught his eye. It was only then that Eva realized she and Tom knew more about the attacks than any of the other students— unless, of course, the predator was amongst the students, which she highly doubted.
Their eye contact remained unwavering for a few moments and, despite the graveness of the situation, Eva once again found herself wanting to get lost in the unsettling darkness of Tom's eyes.
Dinner was a nebulous affair that night. When Cassi distractedly shoved the last bit of her chicken sandwich into her mouth, her eyes went wide and she looked for a moment as though she were about to spit it out in disgust, she slowly continued to chew and let it move down her throat. The perishing of her zoned out state seemed to have brought a different sort of lump in the opposite direction of her food, for tears started to well up and stream down her cheeks.
Eva stole a moment to get over her shock before reaching out a hand in imitation of Ernella's friend, hoping desperately to get better results from the action. When her hand made contact with the shoulder further from herself and Cassi leaned into the touch, Eva relaxed and begin to rub circles into her skin in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. It either worked or failed spectacularly, because moments later Cassi's head was dropped into the crook of Eva's neck, with hot saltwater pattering onto her collarbone and sliding down into her blouse.
She wasn't sure whether the sudden onslaught of tears had been brought upon Cassi by the realization of what she had just eaten or the current state of the school, but decided it would be impudent to pry using Legilimency again. Instead, she looked up in alarm at Myrtle, only to see tears threatening to cascade from her dark lower lashes as well.
Touch seemed to be the only method she knew to placate distraught girls, but she couldn't very well reach her hand over the mounds of food still decorating the vast dining table, so she gingerly reached a foot out to find Myrtle's underneath the table. A brief look of surprise crossed over Myrtle's features, but before Eva had time to wonder if she'd done something wrong, the brunette was smiling softly back at her and moving her foot to wrap her own foot around Eva's from ankle to toe.
She made eye contact with Riddle again, who was watching the trio rather churlishly. Before Eva could think too deeply about how wonderful it would be to take comfort in Tom's arms in the fashion Cassi and Myrtle were taking comfort in her own, the Headmaster's faintly nasally voice cut across the Great Hall to ask for their attention.
"As you all know, there have been some attacks over the past few months. A few students have even been summoned home by their parents for fear that they will become the next victim. I can promise that the cure is well on its way to being developed, which we have the wonderful Madam Pomfrey to thank for." —he gestured to the end of the table at which the school nurse was sitting with dark circles crowning her cheekbones— "We cannot give you any more information than this, and that we are working as a staff to catch and punish the culprit. We must ask that students not go looking for the root of the atta—"
He was cut off by Gryffindor Head Boy, Ignatius Prewett, who shouted unflinchingly, "I think the attacker is the monster living in the Chamber of secrets!"
This set off incoherent panic and confusion in every corner of the Hall for several seconds until the deputy headmaster spoke up to save the headmaster the blubbering. "The Chamber of Secrets is a myth, Mr. Prewett, despite what your..." His twinkling blue eyes travelled pointedly over to a pretty Slytherin girl with sleek black hair and aristocratic cheekbones before he continued, "...friends may have informed you."
The boy blushed nearly as red as the hair atop his head before sitting back down and sending the Slytherin a wink that no one noticed but Eva, leaving her to wonder what their reason for hiding might be.
"With that, I bid you all good night... and if the bedbugs come to bite, let them!" Dumbledore finished with a scratch of his tawny facial hair.
No one laughed.
Riddle scoffed derisively.
They all trudged back to their dorms to fall asleep. All, that is, with the exclusion of one Slytherin prefect and a Ravenclaw fallen angel.
The two anomalies found each other, as they did every time the moon rose, lost in the vocal chords of the piano while it sang to bend to the Slytherin's will. They sat, elbow to elbow, left knee to right knee, the fallen angel reverently drinking in the sparks she could pull through the woven fabrics of their robes.
She sat and wondered. Wondered about love, wondered about touch, wondered about her own ending. Would she find her "natural disaster," as Abraxas put it and, if so, would its perpetrator drag her to shore or leave her to drown?
The sparks, thoughts, and sweet notes of the piano perfumed her mind all the way back to her dorm room, where she lit a candle and sat in its dim light. She pulled out the book she had not spared a glance to since she had fallen, ripped out the first page with the letter from the Heavens, and put quill to parchment once again.