T R I G G E R W A R
N I N G
blood, cutting, swearing
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MATTHEO RIDDLE IS YASMINE AMAROS. CALANTHA, ERISED, EPIPHANY, LANA, DAÌNN, NICCOLÒ, KASSANDRA, AND MARLEY MCKINNON ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK R*WLINGS.
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F O R T Y
THE first days of the new year felt like every other. There was nothing different about them, nothing distinctive or special. There were parties every night, in each common room, but the ones below me were the loudest of them all.
"Do you want to accompany me, Calantha?" Erised walked into my dorm, eyes meeting my own as I stared back at him. I wanted to say yes, just because of that look on his face, his sweet smile and beautiful, soft brown eyes. But I knew what happened the last two times I went to a party, and... . if I was being honest, I was scared to go to another.
My heart fluttered as I shook my head timidly, watching his smile dim. "I'm really sorry, Erised," I shrugged my shoulders, no longer looking at him, now focusing on the large book I had in my hands. I tried to smile once more, but even I knew too well that it was no use. "I'm just not in the mood tonight."
"Should I stay up here, then? With you?"
Another shake of my head, "No, no that's okay. I want you to have fun, you deserve to. Maybe you could ask Lana."
He shuffled, messing with the sprawled parchment on my clattered desk, the rickety chair beside him sliding across the wood floor as he moved it with his hand to lean against the drawers. "You know I don't like her lot." he mumbled.
It was quiet for a few moments, both of us staring at the other. His eyebrows were only just slightly furrowed, his mouth in the smallest of frowns, but he stared at me as though I were a sick child. The way Kassandra had stared at me two days ago.
"Well," he spoke up, "Is that... is that homework you're doing?"
"Just some reading." I spoke to him, drawing my eyes back down to my book, and keeping them there. I'd been wrapped up in Hogwarts: A History for the twelfth time. Bloody good book if I say so myself.
"What are you reading?"
I sighed heavily, still looking down at my book. "Erised, do you need something, or do you just like standing here and watching me try and read my literature? You know what I'm reading. This is your damned copy of the book."
"I could sit and watch you read all day," he shrugged, and a small blush appeared on my cheeks. "But... er, well, no." his shoulders slumped the moment I looked up to him. "No, I. . . I just don't like the thought of you being up here alone for the night while every one else is downstairs . . ."
"You needn't worry, truthfully," I completely sat up, laying the book beside my leg, wrapping my arms around myself. "Is Draco going to be there?"
He hesitated, then nodded with his lips pursed.
"And... er, Matthew?"
He didn't hesitate before nodding. "Already drinking, that tosser."
I winced, "And well, obviously Bassett is going to be there."
We both nodded.
"If I showed, they'd all just be a pain in my arse," I tutted, "Think about it."
"Don't tell me they're the reason you aren't letting yourself have fun."
"They're not the reason I'm not going, I promise, it's just . . . I avoid the three of them as much as I can, and well, going to this party would be exactly the opposite. I'm not in the mood to party or drink, much less be around them."
He shoved his hands into his sweatpants pockets. "Fine, but just know that I will be checking up on you throughout the night, drunk or not, Calantha Ori."
My mouth hung open as I sprang to my knees, gasping, "Where did you hear that!" Erised only laughed, and I got to my feet in a hurried mess, almost stumbling over a pile of robes at the end of my trunk. "Tell me, Erised, where did you hear that! Oh, it was Kassandra, wasn't it! I'll have you know her middle name is Arcturus."
Erised laughed even harder, shoulders bouncing as his slender fingers gripped the desk for support. "She shares her father's middle name! Blimey, that's. . . that's. . . oh, Mercy, fuck. And. . . and your middle name. . .oh," he laughed again, his mouth ajar as blissful laughter left his rosy lips.
"Go on, make fun of my middle name why don't you. At least I wasn't named after a damned mirror. What were your parents thinking?"
"What were my parents thinking? What were your parents thinking! Your middle name is Orion! It doesn't even match with your first!"
"My parents were very close with the Black's, or at least Regulus and Sirius, I'll have you know. So yes, my middle name is Orion. Do share, now, what's yours? You've come to bother and humiliate me, and the least you can do is share your middle name, you big bloke."
He calmed himself with a hand on his stomach, then straightened his white button up, standing taller. He sighed, his fluffy hair falling onto his eyebrows, "Corvus."
Now I was the one laughing, bellows leaving my lips, "Corvus!" I repeated him, "What, were your parents fans of the constellations as well?"
He rolled his eyes, "Apparently not like yours and the Black's." he glared at me, "I'll have you know Corvus is the Crow."
"And I'll have you know that Orion is the Hunter. Not that this is a competition."
"Fine." he rolled his eyes yet again, "You win. Not that this is a competition."
"Good, then go on. Have fun at your party," I smiled, watching him open the door. "Drink responsibly, I really don't want to be tucking you in tonight, Erised Corvus."
"Yeah, yeah." he waved a hand at me, poking his head into my room through the crack in the almost shut door. "I'll be soon to check on you, Miss Orion."
"Oh, please don't call me that. Don't be a wanker." I whined, afraid he couldn't hear me. I knew he couldn't, however, because he'd closed the door soon before I yelled after him.
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EPIPHANY
"Eugh," I looked around the room, watching plenty of older girls swing around on guys, a look of disdain well lit on my face. I hoped it was visible under the neon lights, and I hoped they all knew they looked stupid dancing the way they were.
"Epiphany, what are you doing here!" Marley McKinnon approached me, a cup in her hand and a devious smile on her pretty face. I watched her walk to me, admired the black dress she had on, then looked down at my own jeans and tank top, paired with workman's black boots, steel toed.
"'Needed a good laugh," I looked over into her cup, brows furrowed. "Blimey, Marley, what's that you've got in your cup?"
She laughed, "Apple juice."
"Oi! I love apple juice, one of my favorites. Drink it with every meal, I do." I boasted, smiling proudly, thinking about drinking apple juice.
"Care for a sip?"
My stomach warmed, and I got all clammy, my palms growing sweaty. "Erm. . ." I watched her smile. I smiled back, once again looking at her dress, her pretty black dress, ruffled at her knees, with black trackers to match. "Yeah, sure."
She handed me her cup, and I took it, weightless in my hand. For a moment, our fingers brushed against the other, and we both giggled, my eye catching the slightest of hers. Another laugh from her and I was drinking out of the cup, the taste of apple juice and. . . and . . .
I thrusted the cup back to her, my knuckles hitting her stomach. "Ergh! What is in that bloody apple juice! Marley, have you poisoned me?" I licked my lips, a sour tingle coating them, and my throat still burned from the long drink I'd taken.
She leaned forward, giggling. "I put some of the stuff that looks like water in it! It's not water though. . . I reckon. . . I reckon it's alcahal!"
"Er. . ." I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "You mean alcohol?"
She frowned, then nodded.
"Damn you, Marley! You should've told me, I wouldn't have had a sip then. If Theo finds out he'll kill me. Mercy, the bloke yells at me for damning him enough."
"Well," she tilted her head, raising to my height on her tippy toes. "Well, I'm not going to tell him." she shrugged. "Besides, don't you want to try some. . . for my twelfth birthday I--"
"I'm not twelve, am I. Nor is it my birthday."
"Yes, well, your birthday is in a days time, innit?"
"Doesn't matter. I don't like that gross water stuff. It makes my nose burn."
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CALANTHA
Erised had come and asked if I was okay five times so far, each time sounding even more sober than the last, if possible. I couldn't tell if he was just really good at pretending like he hadn't been drinking, or if he truly hadn't been drinking. Either way, he'd kept up to what he'd said.
I jumped backward as the door hit my forehead, landing on my trunk with a palm to my face, listening to the scuffle of footsteps sound through the door. Before I could process what had happened, I heard Kassandra's laughter followed by the shutting of the door, and then looked up to see her standing in front of me, her eyes watery as she laughed.
"Oh. . ." she said sadly, but with a bright smile on her face. "Oh, what's happened. Has someone hit you? You look knackered. . . "
"Damn you, Kassandra. How much have you had to drink? And where have you been, it's. . ." I paused to look at the clock in the corner of the dorm. "Two in the morning. The hell have you been at?"
"Well," her eyes shut and then opened, as if she remembered she was awake and standing. "Well, the party is s'going on 'stairs, so I'm just partyin' down there, like fuckin' just partyin' and shit."
"Mercy, you're shitfaced." I sighed, standing, rubbing the spot on my forehead that the wood slab of door hit.
"No, I'm Kassandra."
I shook my head and grabbed her by the forearms, pulling her to her bed, tucking back her sheets and helping her lay down. My hands pulled her shoes off, and tossed them to the foot of our open closet, before turning back to her and moving her hair out of her face.
"Look at you," I shook my head again, wincing as she squeezed my cheeks, smiling like a child. "Kassandra, stop it, stop it." I finally grabbed her hands and forced them under her blankets, covering her with her sheets. "Go to bed, you're the one that looks knackered. You need to sleep this shit off."
"You know, you should've come to the party 'cause everybody, and I mean 'vrybody was lookin' for you!" she pointed at me, though not in the right direction. Her eyes were shut but she was smiling, and her cheeks were a blushed pink, her hair sprawled all over her pillows. "You should've come! You would've had so much fun, I promise. Bassett got her shit rocked! Oh, you should've seen it."
Any attention that wasn't on her before was now, and my entire body faced her bed. "Bassett? As in Lana? Lana Bassett got her shit rocked?"
"Heck yeah!" she slurred her words, dragging out the first. She laughed again, then covered her face in her blankets.
"By who?"
"You'll never guess," she laughed, then sporadically threw the covers off of her face. "Actually!" she beamed, her eyes still shut. "Actually," there was a very loud bang in the distance, followed by shouting and a mimicked laughter.
I turned to look at the door, tempted to run out and see what had happened, even more tempted to see if Kassandra had been telling the truth, but when I looked back at her silent body, I felt I couldn't leave her.
What if she woke up or threw up?
I had to be there for her.
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MATTHEO
I sat Epiphany down in her dorm, on her bed, and ignored Marley's cries in the corner.
"Are you fucking out of your mind, Epiphany Canis Minor!" I yelled in her face, my hands holding onto her shoulders as I shook her, watching her laugh with her head back, shoulders moving up and down and she kicked her feet happily against her bed post.
"Oi, did you see the look on her face! She was terrified, didn't even see it coming, right Marley!" Epiphany cast a gleeful look to the weeping girl in the corner, whose face was in her hands.
"Epiphany," I gently shook her attention back to me, my face close to hers as I tried to focus my dazed eyes on her, my voice uneven, words slurred. I couldn't comprehend anything, let alone have this kind of discussion with her, not right now. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
She shrugged, "I was just doing what Dad taught me to do."
I winced, "What have I told you about called him Dad? Stop doing it, he's not our dad."
She furrowed her eyebrows, "Than who is our dad?"
"That's not what I. . . Mercy," I shook my head, "Epiphany, do you realize what you've done? Do you know how much trouble you could get into for what you've done? You could've killed someone."
"She didn't look dead when I stopped," she shrugged. "She'll be fine. She didn't get anything she didn't deserve."
I agree to that. "You can't go around. . .Fuck, Epiphany!"
Marley sobbed louder, and I forced myself not to yell at her, that it would only make matters worse, and that that isn't how you calm down a twelve year old girl.
Before I knew it, I walked over to the hunched over girl in the corner of the dorm, and placed a hand on hers, and smiled as she looked up at me through tear-bled eyes. My stomach turned at the touch of her warm skin, but I held her small hand in mine nonetheless, and whispered for her to close her eyes as I closed mine.
Epiphany sighed from where she sat still on her bed, energetic as ever, and I focused my mind on Marley's, filling her head with flowers and memories of spring, until eventually she was quiet, and no longer crying.
"What class will teach me how to do that?" Epiphany beamed, mesmerized.
I shook my head once, "You won't ever learn how to do it. You can't."
She frowned, now. "Why not?"
"You just won't, okay? I can't explain it to you now, you'll understand when you're of age. Now, will you please lay down and go to bed so that I can go and fix everything you've done."
She pushed her lips out in a pout, and crawled back under her covers, glaring at me the entire time. I couldn't care less how she felt right now, not with the mess she left for me to clean up just beyond her door.
I could barely walk as I stumbled to her door and opened it wide enough for my body to slide through, then shut it directly behind me, coming face to face with the empty common room, completely destroyed, already repairing itself.
Everyone, with an exception, had cleared out as soon as I'd yelled for them to. Not one person hesitated as I yelled for them to leave, and to not come back into the commons until morning. Why they listened, I didn't know, but I was grateful that every single one of them did.
I stumbled over to the body on the ground, and grunted as I hoisted her weight into my arms, my back aching with her weight. She most definitely wasn't as light as Calantha, though I wasn't sure anyone at this school with the exception of the younger year girls was.
Most of the glass was fixed off of the ground, along with the broken table and the broken chandelier. The bottles of liquor had miraculously disappeared to Mercy knows where, and I didn't even care to question any of it. The only thing on my mind was making sure that none of this got back to the professors.
The stairs were the hardest to make with her in my arms, but I'd done it, and no sooner had I practically thrown her onto Niccolò's bed, noticing that it was empty. I didn't care where he'd gone, and only made way to my closet in a rush to take my shirt off.
"Ow. . ."
I turned on my heels, sliding a black, long sleeved shirt onto my inked chest, and walked toward Niccolò's bed, fully annoyed. "Are you in pain?"
She nodded.
"Good."
"Hmm?"
"Stop talking and sleep, otherwise the dragon in the closet will eat you."
"There's a dragon in the closet?"
"Mhm."
"I don't like dragons very much," she yawned, rubbing her eyes, streaks of light pink all over her neck and arms.
"Then go to bed before I let it eat you."
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THE NEXT MORNING
MATTHEO
"I assure you, Mister Riddle, that lying for another person's safekeep, will not benefit you in any way."
I stared long and hard at Dumbledore, my feet bouncing under his desk, my hands clasped in my lap as I faced him. He was so timid and dull, so calm and content, and I hated it. Of course he knew I was lying, but there was nothing else he could do but except my word. He had no other proof.
"It was me, Sir," I said again without looking at him. "I used the Cruciatus Curse on Lana Bassett."
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CALANTHA
When I found myself walking into Daìnn's classroom, a sudden shudder ran down my entire body, and with it a lump formed in my throat. Feeling as though I were about to throw up, I turned around. . .
"Miss Adamos," Daìnn's voice stopped me as soon as I'd turned on my heel, as if he were waiting somewhere in the room-- from where I couldn't see --watching me. His tone was cold and all the more knowing, as if he had been waiting for me to come seek him out, for whatever reason.
"Is there something I can help you with? Or have you just come to say cheers?"
My shoulders finally relaxed, and as I turned around I noticed him-- as usual --leaning against the front of his scarily organized desk. Arms crossed, chin dipped, eyes glaring through his dark eyebrows. He said nothing more and watched me, very contently, as I walked further into his classroom.
"I came to speak to you about the project, Sir--"
"Professor." he corrected me, not a stinge of change in his appearance. Arrogant bastard.
"I came to speak to you about the project, Professor," I repeated myself, a little haste in my words now. "Because I think it is reasonable to allow our group a few more days before presenting," I turned to the rows of empty tables and chairs, "To the class."
"Why, Miss Adamos, would I give your group any extra time?"
A choked laugh escaped my lips and I quickly straightened myself, taking note to his single eyebrow raise. "Well, because. . . Haven't you heard about Bassett?"
The slightest of smiles appeared just shy of the corner of his lip, and I found myself sitting at the table closest to my side, my hands gripped on the surface. As he stood there, quietly, thinking--I assumed-- I watched him. He wore the same black button up as usual and paired it with the formal black dress pants. There was the outline of a knife in his side waistband, and my stomach did a little turn, but I ignored it.
His shoes were unorthodoxly clean, seeming to fit well with the watch on his wrist. His hair, as always, was parted and small black curls hugged the tips of his ears. I hated his hair--how curly it was. It reminded me too much of Mattheo.
"I understand what happened to Miss Bassett, but I don't find it very clear the point that you're trying to make in bringing her up."
I shuffled on the chair, growing antsy and eager to just get up and leave. Nonetheless, I sighed, "She's injured, professor, she can't possibly get up in the front of the class, much less produce a proper Patronus, if that."
"I heard well of her as of this morning." he finally looked away from me. "Albus Dumbledore sent me to see to it that she was able enough to further her completion of this project. I can assure you, Miss Adamos, that Miss Bassett's advances very much proved her ill no longer."
"What about Mattheo?" I rolled my eyes, growing frustrated. "What ab--"
"What about Mattheo?" he pushed off of the desk, his voice raised. He was looking at me with disdain, now, and took four steps toward me. "It's his own behavior that's gotten him into detentions for the rest of the year. That has nothing to do with you, and you should know that."
"I'm not saying that--"
"I don't care what you're saying, Miss Adamos--"
"Really? You don't care what I have to say now, but only weeks ago were you practically begging me for answers--"
"I wasn't the one begging, Miss Adamos," slowly, he spoke, "I remember very well your pleading."
I brought my hand up to the collar of my shirt and yanked it down, revealing the scarred part of my neck, my forearms almost on fire with heat. Anger, accompanied by something else, writhed around in my head.
"Look at what you did to me." I stood now, walking up to him, pulling my shirt down farther. "Do you know what I could do to you with these marks? I could go to--"
"You would do no such thing and the both of us know it, so don't you sit there and take me as a fool while you lie to my face. As vengeful as you seem, Miss Adamos, you sit in fear, you let it fog your mind. Why else do you think it was so easy for me to get inside of that pretty little head of yours?"
"Mmm," he tilted his head, seeming delighted. "I take your silence as agreement. I assure you, it's nothing to be embarrassed about."
"You think I'm embarrassed?"
"I know you are. It's the reason you won't let anyone other than my baby brother see your neck. Really, you shouldn't hide such beautiful lettering, it's not every day--"
Before even thinking, I smacked him hard across the face, my palm stinging as soon as my hot palm met his cheek.
He remained unfazed and focused as he grabbed me, pushing my back into the table, his eyes full of angry fire. The side of his face was a light pink, and finger marks had begun to welt over his cheekbone.
Neither of us said anything, and all he did was look at me. Why wasn't he reacting like I thought he would? Why isn't he. . .
Suddenly, I reached for the knife I'd spied minutes before, trying to wrap my hand around the only visible part shadowing his shirt. As soon as I'd moved my hand to it, and felt it, he mimicked my actions, trying to grab it before me.
He was too slow to stop me before I pulled it out of his waistband, untucking part of his shirt along with it. A sliver of tanned skin was grazed by my eyes; I was eager to look--had been.
I didn't have a plan with what to do with the knife, nor any idea where to use it on him to make him hurt the most. All I did was hold it in his face--the tip pointed at his chin. No reaction came from him whatsoever; his hands moved to my hips, where he held me still against the table, and stared darkly at me through wisps of messy curls.
Scarlett dripped onto my chest, my eyes on the serrated part of the blade--now in his palm. His entire hand was wrapped around the knife, with my own still on the handle, and blood seethed down his wrist, disappearing beneath the sleeve of his button up.
No reaction, again. Not even the slightest hint that he was in pain shown on his face. He was robotic, almost, with absolutely no emotion inside of him.
The ping of the blade hitting the floor by our feet had my eyes on the ground, where I tried to focus them. I couldn't.
"Was it really necessary," he bellowed, yanking my head upward with his uncut hand. Now, he winced, as he wrapped his other hand--his bloodied hand--around my neck, his blood feeling like thick, syrupy water all over my skin.
It was everywhere--his blood--I could feel it on my jaw, my cheeks, all over my neck and collarbone.
"Was it really necessary," he repeated himself through gritted teeth. He was in pain, and the fact that he was pressing his open palm against my windpipe--I assumed,-- only made it hurt even worse.
I turned my head to the side, with the exception of his hand wrapped from ear and ear, and breathlessly whispered, "This wasn't necessary, either." I held back a sob as his eyes dropped to the spot under his hand where the four letters sat coated in red.
"I did what I had to do to get what I needed," he pinched my face with his fingers and I winced, but still didn't allow myself to cry.
"You're wrong, you know," I wheezed, my throat feeling smaller and smaller with the ease of applied pressure to my windpipe. It felt moments away from cracking. "It doesn't embarrass me, I only hide it to keep away questions."
I fumbled under his elbows, which were pressing into my rib, and lifted just enough of my shirt to reveal the burned initials above my hip.
"Well," Daìnn laughed, looking down at me. "Didn't I teach him well?"
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