𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
NEEDLESS TO SAY, HARRY AND RON'S FRIENDSHIP IS NOW MENDED.
The three of them walk to the Owlery that evening so that Harry can send Sirius a letter telling him that he's managed to get past his dragon unscathed. On the way, Harry fills Ron & Maya in on everything Sirius told him about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time they entered the Owlery Ron was saying that they ought to have suspected it all along.
"Fits, doesn't it?" he says. "Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup. . . . I'll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he's going to be feeling really stupid now, isn't he? Didn't work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here — I'll do it —"
Maya bites her lip, leaning against the railing as she sinks deeper into thought about what she witnessed a few hours ago. Pigwidgeon is so overexcited at the idea of delivery, he's flying around and around Harry's head, hooting incessantly. Ron snatches Pigwidgeon out of the air and holds him still while Harry attaches the letter to his leg.
"There's no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?" Ron goes on as he carried Pigwidgeon to the window. "You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I'm serious."
Maya knows that Ron is only saying this to make up for his behavior of the last few weeks, but Harry appreciates it all the same. Hermione, however, leans against the Owlery wall, folds her arms, and frowns at Ron.
"Harry's got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament," she says, seriously. "If that was the first task, I hate to think what's coming next."
"Right little ray of sunshine, aren't you?" says Ron. "You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime."
Hermione rolls her as Ron throws Pigwidgeon out of the window. Pigwidgeon plummets twelve feet before managing to pull himself back up again; the letter attached to his leg is much longer and heavier than usual — Harry clearly hasn't been able to resist giving Sirius a blow-by-blow account of exactly how he swerved, circled, and dodged the Horntail. They watch Pigwidgeon disappear into the darkness, and then Ron speaks.
"You okay, Maya?" he questions, concerned, "You've been awfully quiet all evening"
"I'm fine" replies Maya, managing a weak smile, "I'm just a bit tired, I guess. It's been a long day"
"Tell me about it" replies Harry, slinging an arm over Ron's shoulder. Maya chuckles at the mention of their camaraderie but feels Hermione's questioning look. Her smile falls, and she rubs her arms, the cold starting to get to her.
"This came for you" Diana replies, as soon as the girls get back to their dormitory. Hermione sheds her coat, swapping out her slightly heeled ankle boots for a pair of Uggs. The blonde girl hands Maya a letter, stamp haphazardly stuck on. Her name is scripted in familiar, left-slanted handwriting, the rose-and-sandalwood smelling parchment sending a warm feeling through her chest.
Hermione frowns as Maya curls up on the bed, taking off her flats and placing them on the floor.
"Aren't you coming down to the party?" she questions, frowning, as Diana joins her, looking lovely in a sleeveless dress of dark red.
"In a little bit, I just need some time to relax" replies Maya, detachedly, fingers sliding open the flap of the envelope of the letter as they leave.
"I'll save some butterbeer for you!" calls Diana, from down the Hall, as Maya snickers.
She just hopes Diana doesn't actually drink any alcohol, otherwise she'd have an entirely different problem on her hands.
My dear daughter,
I'm sorry it took me so long to write you back, a lot of work and some other stuff came up. Magnus and I miss you so much. We can't wait to see you during the break! Speaking of which, have Diana's parents agreed to let her come to New York? The Malfoys are already a troubled lot - considering how their son behaved with you at the Quidditch world cup - and the last thing we want to do is worsen things for her. Poor girl. I can't imagine what she went through after being sorted into Hufflepuff!!
How are things for you, sweetheart? Professor McGonagall tells me your grades are very consistent - always first or second rank in class. Clearly, one year of homeschooling has immensely paid off. Both of us are very proud of you. I always knew you'd do well at Hogwarts! Are you making friends? I hope no one's giving you trouble, but you know how to stand up for yourself, I'm sure.
Your birthday's coming up soon, on the 7th of December! I can't believe you're turning fourteen already - it seems as though you were learning how to walk just yesterday. I know I can't be there to celebrate it with you this year, but I'm sending my wishes in spirit! Don't worry, you're still getting presents - though I'm not specifying what they are just yet!
As you're a teenager now, you'll have a lot more freedom, as well as responsibility, and I expect that you will use it in the correct manner. People will try to take advantage of the fact that you see the good in people, and I hope you know how to differentiate between flattery and kindness. I'm not trying to scare you, but tensions are rising in the down world
. There are rumors that Valentine could rise again. People who were vehemently against his views in the past are being killed, mysteriously, with no trace of the weapon whatsoever. We aren't in any immediate danger, but the attacks are slowly getting closer to New York, which is where Jocelyn Fairchild was rumored to have disappeared.
As you know, Magnus and I were close to her in the past, just before she vanished. She had a daughter who didn't die in the fire - I can't remember her name - but the girl would be about your age now. Whoever's killing the victims could try and use you as bait to worm information out of Magnus. Even though you're safer in England than if you were here, I urge you to be cautious. Don't be quick to trust anyone. Walk in groups. Keep your head down. Don't attract the wrong kind of attention. And most importantly, never, ever, tell anyone about the fact that you can Change. I'm not trying to scare you, but at this point, your safety is my utmost concern.
Now that the hard part's over, I love you, no matter what. Always remember that. You're always going to be my daughter, no matter what happens or what you do. I trust you to do the right thing, even when it seems impossible. You have your own life, and friends, and I trust that you will use that freedom wisely. Stay out of trouble, stay away from the boys (no matter how tempting they might be), and see you on the 17th!
With love,
Nandini.
Maya's heart lifts as she reads the letter, then slowly sinks down into her stomach by the time she reaches the end. She carefully puts it back into the envelope, sliding it into the nightstand and locking the drawer with a flick of her wand.
She leans back on the bed, groaning into her hands. Maya's brain has short-circuted, completely overwhelmed with new information to even muster the smallest thoughts of her own volition. There's too much in her head, like rabid fishes swimming around in a tank until they crash.
Maya needs a goddamn break.
After redoing her messy bun, and changing into a decent-looking sweater, Maya walks down to the Gryffindor common room, which explodes with cheers and yells again. There are mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan's let off some Filibuster's Fireworks, so that the air is thick with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who's very good at drawing, has put up some impressive new banners, most of which depict Harry zooming around the Horntail's head on his Firebolt, though a couple show Cedric with his head on fire.
Maya helps herself to a little bit of the food; Her nervousness seems to have stolen most of her appetite, and she sits down next to the trio and Diana. The Hufflepuff offers her a butterbeer, and she gladly takes it, feeling a bit of willpower return as the icy cold liquid slides down her throat.
"Blimey, this is heavy," says Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, which Harry has left on a table, and weighing it in his hands.
"Open it, Harry, go on! Let's just see what's inside it!"
"He's supposed to work out the clue on his own," Hermione says swiftly. "It's in the tournament rules. . . ."
"I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own too," Harry mutters, so only Hermione and Maya can hear him, and the former grins rather guiltily.
"Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!" several people echo.
Lee passes Harry the egg, and he digs his fingernails into the groove that runs all the way around it and prises it open.
It's hollow and completely empty — but the moment Harry opens it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, fills the room. Maya hisses as she covers her ears, the sound incredibly painful to her delicate eardrums. The closest thing she's heard to it has to be nails on a chalkboard, except this has to be that intensified by three.
"Shut it!" Fred bellows, his hands over his ears.
"What was that?" says Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slams it shut again. "Sounded like a banshee. . . . Maybe you've got to get past one of those next, Harry!"
Maya's suddenly glad she never even thought of signing up for the tournament.
"It was someone being tortured!" says Neville, who has gone white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. "You're going
to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!"
"Don't be a prat, Neville, that's illegal," says George. "They wouldn't use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing . . . maybe you've got to attack him while he's in the shower, Harry."
"Want a jam tart, Hermione?" says Fred. Hermione looks doubtfully at the plate he's offering her. Fred grins.
"It's all right," he says. "I haven't done anything to them. It's the custard creams you've got to watch —"
Maya, who has just bitten into a custard cream, chokes and spits it out. Fred laughs.
"Just my little joke, Maya. . . ."
She glares at him.
"Not funny"
Hermione takes a jam tart. Then she says, "Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?"
"Yep," says Fred, grinning at her. He puts on a high-pitched squeak and imitates a house-elf. " 'Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!' They're dead helpful . . . get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish."
"How do you get in there?" Hermione says, in an innocently casual sort of voice.
"Easy," says Fred, "concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and —" He stops and looks suspiciously at her "Why?"
"Nothing," says Hermione quickly.
"Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?" replies George. "Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?"
Several people chortle. Hermione doesn't answer. Maya feels a flame of anger stoke within her, with the sexist way Hermione's passions are being brushed aside, her glare deepening even more as she gives George the nastiest look she can muster.
"Looks like someone's angry" he remarks, as Maya opens her mouth, something scathing making its way up her throat.
Just then, Neville causes a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.
"Oh — sorry, Neville!" Fred shouts over all the laughter. "I forgot — it was the custard creams we hexed —"
Within a minute, however, Neville molts, and once his feathers have fallen off, he reappears looking entirely normal. He even joins in laughing. Maya's eyes widen in horror, immediately shooting down to herself, but even after five minutes, no feathers decide to appear.
Maybe it just doesn't work on Nephilim.
"Canary Creams!" Fred shouts to the excitable crowd. "George and I invented them — seven Sickles each, a bargain!"
It's nearly one in the morning when Harry finally goes up to the dormitory with Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, Maya, Diana, and Hermione going to theirs about the same time. Before she pulls the curtains of her four-poster shut, Maya glances at her locked drawer, the letter from her mother still inside. She contemplates writing a reply, an honest one, finally coming clean about everything that's going on in her life.
Hey mom,
I got your letter. Does having an agreement in place with my best friend's jerk brother (who knows about your powers because he walked in on you using them in the middle of the night) count as disobedience? And while I'm at it, Trelawney made a prediction that three people closest to me would die, Moody is acting shady as fuck, and Karkaroff said that my name was meant to go in the cup instead of Harry's. So really, everything is just A-OKAY-
Her mind shuts the possibility down just as she even considers it.
Maya lets the curtains of her four-poster fall shut as she flops onto her bed, not bothering to change into her nightclothes. Her brain is beyond exhausted with the whirlwind of a day she's just had, and she can't even muster the energy to think, let alone write a full reply back to her mother.
This can definitely wait.
The start of December brings wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafts slither through the castle, snow pouring in a blizzard outside. Maya is forced to start wearing woolen tights under her skirts to combat the cold, sometimes ditching the piece of clothing for her heavy-duty black jeans, which are barely noticeable when covered with her robes. Most of the teachers don't notice the fact that she's breaking the dress code, the rare odd look from Snape being all the recognition she gets.
Maya wakes up the morning of her fourteenth birthday with a strange feeling in her chest, as though something insignificant has changed within her. The sunlight streams in through the window, and it takes her one look at her alarm clock to realize that she's very, very late for Care Of Magical Creatures. She throws the sheets backward, scrambling to the bathroom and freshening up as best as she can, before slipping into her favorite grey sweater and black jeans, complete with a pair of black suede booties , her uniform being completely forsaken on this momentous occasion.
Hagrid, she notices, silently slipping in with the rest of her class, is keeping Madame Maxime's horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the corner of their paddock is enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This is unhelpful, as they're still tending the horrible skrewts and need their wits about them.
"Bloody hell!" exclaims Diana, coughing as she bats the fumes away from her face, "You could fill a speakeasy with the number of fumes in this place!"
"And how exactly do you know what a speakeasy is?" questions Maya, suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.
Diana smirks, looking unnervingly like her brother.
"I hear things" she replies, unconvincingly, making Maya's suspicions deepen even further.
"I'm not sure whether they hibernate or not," Hagrid tells the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. "Thought we'd jus' try an' see if they fancied a kip . . . we'll jus' settle 'em down in these boxes. . . ."
There are now only ten skrewts left; apparently, their desire to kill one another has not been exercised out of them. Each of them is now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combine to make the skrewts the most repulsive things Maya has ever seen. The class looks dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid has brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.
"We'll jus' lead 'em in here," Hagrid says, "an' put the lids on, and we'll see what happens."
But the skrewts, it transpires, do not hibernate, and do not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid's soon yelling, "Don' panic, now, don' panic!" while the skrewts rampage around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class — Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead — flee into Hagrid's cabin, Diana pulling Maya inside before she can protest.
"Do you want to get fried to death on your birthday?" she hisses, as Maya rolls her eyes.
"Don' frighten him, now!" Hagrid shouts from outside. Maya looks out the window, eyes widening as she sees Ron and Harry using their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which is advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back. "Jus' try an' slip the rope 'round his sting, so he won' hurt any o' the others!"
"By the angel..." she mutters, face going white.
"Is that your scarf?"
Maya turns around, squinting in the dim light to figure out what object Diana's pointing out. Her eyes latch onto a blue silk shawl, faintly patterned with white daisies, the very same one she wore to combat the cold a few days ago when they all went down for tea with Hagrid. It's also, incidentally, the same day she discovered his rock cakes, which caused her to almost lose a tooth when she tried to bite into them.
Maya supposes that the same thing would've happened had she tried to make them.
Only instead of just losing a tooth, they all would've been sent to the hospital wing to get their stomachs pumped.
Oh well, at least it's better than Magnus's attempts at soup.
Anyway, it's a gift from him that belongs to her mother, a specific Chinese print that isn't available anywhere in the UK or America. Nandini made Maya promise that it would return in the pristine condition that it left in, knowing her daughter's forgetful tendencies all too well. It temporarily cures her homesickness each time she wears it, still decorated in the smell of sandalwood incense and honey that decorates the apartment back in New York.
And the last thing she wants to do is lose it.
Maya slips through the crowd unnoticed, slinking towards the cupboard door the scarf hangs on. She sighs as she realizes that it's above her height level, slowly standing up on her tiptoes as her fingertips brush the fringed edge of the silk.
Just as she begins to grasp it in her hand, a figure suddenly slams into her. Maya shrieks, falling directly against the spinning door; both of them go crashing into the opposite wall of the cupboard in a tangle of limbs. Her head slams into the ground, hair tumbling out of it's bun and sprawling over the oak floors. Maya hisses in pain, feeling a fugue of irritation bubble up as she looks upward, ready to give the person who slammed into her a piece of her mind.
She freezes.
Grey eyes stare back at her, pupils wide with shock. Draco Malfoy looks completely bewildered - which quickly changes to horrified - as she lays under him, too flabbergasted for words. His white-blond hair falls over his forehead, almost tickling the top of Maya's forehead with how long his bangs are. This close, she can see the ring of silvery-blue that surrounds the iris, the way his pale skin appears incredibly irritatingly unblemished. She can feel the heat of his lips over hers, and her unconsciously flit to them, a little surprised at their slight rosiness, tracing the shape of the cupid's bow-
Sweet Raziel, what on earth is she even doing?
She does not find him good-looking at all, not even remotely attractive.
She was not just staring at his lips for no reason.
Her cheeks are not blooming red at the audacity of her current situation.
"What the hell?! Get off of me!"
Ahh, the sweet throes of denial.
Maya's hands shove him backward, doubling back onto her shins as she stands up. Draco Malfoy scowls at her from his place on the floor, the space not big enough for both of them to stand at the same time. She pushes at the door, but finds it firmly locked in place, the sides jammed into the wall with the force of their fall.
Crap.
Malfoy's face turns white as he fumbles for his wand, finding his pockets completely empty. Maya does the same, and her heart sinks as she realizes that both their wands are outside, the last place they need to be in. She can hear the sound of the students filtering out of the cabin, chattering as they head to their next classes, unaware of the fact that the two of them are trapped in the cupboard together.
She is not enjoying this.
She is not enjoying this at all.
"Open, damn it!!" Maya exclaims with frustration, repeatedly kicking the door. It loosens a tiny bit, but still stays firmly locked in place. Draco Malfoy rolls his eyes, standing up as best as he can in the cramped space next to Maya. His arm plants on the wall next to her head for balance, and even as Maya tells herself to ignore it, she can't resist the shiver that jolts up her spine at the action.
"Are you trying to break your leg, or are you just plain stupid?"
Maya scowls.
"You're lucky I don't have my wand, otherwise I'd have hexed you to Edom by now"
"Sure you would" he replies, scoffing.
"Don't test me, Malfoy"
The name rolls off of her tongue like honey with a bitter aftertaste, masking the sharpness of her tone. Maya swallows as she reaches into her back pocket, fingers grasping onto a familiar, double-ended object of adamas, set with glowing crystals that shimmer in the dim light. Malfoy's eyes widen as he catches sight of his, long fingers grasping onto her wrist to slow her down.
"Where the hell did you get that?"
She shakes him off.
"None of your business."
Maya presses her stele to the wood of the door, taking a deep breath before tracing an unlock rune into it, the smell of searing wood starting to emanate through the cupboard. The mark glows once she's done, faintly humming before the door spins, creating a small space in which she can slip through.
Malfoy looks astounded.
"Thank me later" she replies, before he can say anything. Maya slips out of the room, slinging her bag over her shoulder and hooking the scarf off of the stand.
Next time, she's leaving it in her dorm.
Maya dreads double Divination that afternoon; they're still doing star charts and predictions, but now that Harry and Ron are friends once more, the whole thing seems somewhat bearable again. Professor Trelawney, who has been so pleased with the two of them when Harry and Ron were predicting their own horrific deaths, quickly becomes irritated as they snigger through her explanation of the various ways in which Pluto can disrupt everyday life.
"I would think," she says, in a mystical whisper that does not conceal her obvious annoyance, "that some of us" — she stares very meaningfully at Harry — "might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths . . . and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?"
"An ugly old bat in outsize specs?" Ron mutters under his breath.
Maya snorts. Harry fights hard to keep his face straight.
"Death, my dears."
Parvati and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.
"Yes," says Professor Trelawney, nodding impressively, "it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower . . . ever lower over the castle. . . ."
She looks pointedly at Harry, who yawns and stretches, then her eyes suddenly flit to Maya.
"And I am afraid that it concerns you, my dear."
Maya's eyes widen.
"Me?" she questions, disbelievingly
"Yes, you" Trelawney's eyes take on a mystical tone "The fates do not lie, Miss Rajesh; Death is searching for you in particular, I can see his shadows looming over your head. But something is protecting you. . . . I cannot see what, but it is very powerful. Light and dark are colliding in a mishmash of forces, and soon, you will be forced to choose. I am afraid, my dear, that your future is anything if not deadly"
Maya freezes in fear.
"It'd be a bit more impressive if she hadn't done it about eighty times before," Harry says as they finally regain the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Trelawney's room. "But if I'd dropped dead every time she's told me I'm going to, I'd be a medical miracle."
She manages a weak laugh.
"You'd be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost," says Ron, chortling, as they pass the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. "At least we didn't get homework. I hope Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I love not working when she is. . . ."
Wherever she is, Maya supposes that Hermione definitely would be handling this situation better than herself if their places were switched.
Mom,
I miss you and Magnus so much. My birthday was interesting at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley sent me a blue sweater with a big 'M' on the front. Hermione got me a huge set of parchment and quills from Flourish and Botts. Harry and Ron got me chocolates from Honeydukes, and Diana got me a copy of "To Kill A Mockingbird"! But the best of all is your present - I still can't believe that I now own a laptop. The case is beautiful, I'm booting it up right now and so far, things are going well!
I hope everything's all right in New York. I read the part about the sudden deaths and it freaked me out! I know you and Magnus have the capabilities to defend yourselves, but I'm still a bit worried. Izzy says she'll give my present once I come back for break......I don't know whether to be scared or excited for what she has planned. Anyway, Diana's parents okayed her coming home with me. I'm starting to get the feeling that they're trying to disown her, but I don't think she knows yet. I have so many things planned for the trip and I can't wait to see everyone!
Love,
Maya.
Nandini smiles brightly as she reads the letter, the steam from her coffee spiraling into swirls in the air. Rain falls outside in heavy sheets, the entire city painted in a gloomy colour, marking the beginning of another winter in New York.
"Bribing her with a laptop? Really?"
She swivels around in her chair, smile fading as soon as she catches sight of Magnus, hair ruffled from running his hands through it all day. His gaze is accusing as Nandini fidgets, knowing the lecture she's about to receive from her longtime friend.
"Magnus, I can't do this right now"
"How long are you going to keep it from her?" he questions, tone gentler this time, "She's fourteen now, and Maya's going to want answers soon."
"I know, I just-"
"You keep saying that you want to protect her, but keeping her in the dark is just cruel, Nandini. Maya needs to know the truth about her father, so she'll have some way of protecting herself from him."
"He's not going to hurt her-" Nandini tries, weakly.
"How do you know that?" questions Magnus, sharply, "She's his only chance at a proper return, what makes you think that he won't burn the world to the ground so he can find her?"
"Hogwarts is safe-"
"Is it? Because Remus told me that there's a chance a spy might be at the school, and Maya could be a target alongside Harry Potter."
Nandini's face pales.
"Did he- Were those his exact words?'
Magnus sighs, putting his coffee down on the counter and placing both hands on her shoulders.
"Nandini, you know I love you, but this isn't fair. If he tries to hurt her, Maya will be completely unarmed - even with her powers. She won't know how to defend herself against him. We could lose her forever if we don't tell her soon."
"I know, Magnus" replies Nandini, suddenly looking worn-down, "You've told me this a million times. I promise, I'll do it soon"
Magnus sighs, removing his hands from her shoulders.
His voice is hard when he speaks.
"That's what you've been saying for the past fourteen years, Nandini"