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MATTHEO RIDDLE IS YASMINE AMAROS. CALANTHA, ERISED, EPIPHANY, NICCOLÒ, KASSANDRA, LANA, VASILI, AND DAINN ARE MINE. ALL OTHERS UNLESS MENTIONED ARE JK RO*LINGS.
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T R I G G E R W A R
N I N G
NADA FOR ONCE
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F O R T Y T H R E E
"I ALREADY told you, he's not interested. He's made it very clear, I don't know what else you want me to--"
Lana rolled her eyes as she scoffed, turning her rosy cheek to me before turning back to my door. She stormed in unannounced, looking as if she'd rolled right out of bed. Her white sweatpants and blue crewneck seemed strange resting on her pale skin, having always seen her in a dress or skirt. I'd never seen her in these kinds of colors before, and much less in this kind of attire, so I hadn't meant to stare, but I'd caught myself before she did. Thankfully.
She ran her manicured fingers through her hair, "That's not why I'm here," she shut my door, shaking her head. My eyes followed her slender figure as she walked back and forth in front of me, not uttering a word. She was very anxious; something was bothering her.
"You mean you haven't come to remind me that you're blackmailing me? I'm surprised, truly." I crossed my arms, twisting my face into a frown as she began to pace faster between my and Kassandra's beds. "Listen, can you please stop. What else are you here for, then?"
She let out a loud, frustrated kind of noise, throwing her hands in front of her before leaning against my bed post, sighing deeply. I watched her from where I stood against my wall, only having the view of her side. Her usually straight hair was curled up at the ends, making her seem younger than she was, and the way she slouched against the wood post with her hips out seemed so unlike her.
This was an entirely different Lana Bassett.
She looked down, bringing her head with her, and closed her eyes. "I need your help."
My arms uncrossed themselves and I stared at her. Had I heard her right? There was no way she, of all people, needed help, much less from me. The idea of the two of us helping one another made me laugh, and not the kind that you can hide with the slight of your hand, but the kind where you're bent over with a hand on your stomach.
"Do you think that I'm joking?" she turned straight, her eyes calm and sad. When I looked up, I'd noticed that she was frowning, and her tone wasn't satire or crude, but very much somber. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't desperate, don't you understand that?"
"No, well, yes," A few giggles left my lips, but I calmed myself down enough to continue the conversation. I kept on, "Yes, I-I'm sure you are desperate. But what could I possibly help you with?"
She hesitated and brought her hand to her forehead, "Well, you see, it's not really what you think. . . It's, well--"
"Heavens, Bassett, stop stuttering, would you? Go on, don't be shy, just say what you have to say and I'll decide whether or not I'll help you."
At first she said nothing, but once she opened her mouth the words wouldn't stop. "Erm, well," she itched at her arms. "Well my brother--"
I cut in, "You have a--"
She stopped me, cutting me off, "My brother, he's here-- Hogwarts, and well, my Mum told me on such short notice, and I don't know what to do. I'm freaking out, really, I think. Do you think I'm freaking out?" she started to pace in a small circle, her yes raking all over the room, her hands shaking in front of her.
I stared at her, a stupid expression on my face as my mouth hung open. She continued to talk, but I heard none of it, not as my mind stayed stuck on the revelation that she'd had a brother.
Why did this keep happening to me? Mattheo has a little sister, wow, funny. Oh! Look at that. . . and older brother too! We must be done. . . well, don't be so crude Calantha, of course we're not. Lovely little Bassett has a brother!
"You have a brother."
"Twin brother, actually. . ."
A loud laugh left my lips, and now my hand was on my forehead. It wasn't even that big of a deal, sure, but dealing with Lana was one thing, to have another one of her. . .
"I apologize if I seem insincere, but I don't understand what you want me to do about this? What are you even asking me to help you with? Send him away?"
"I just. . . do you think I'll be okay? Do you think I'm freaking out about this?"
"Bassett, why would you not be okay? And why would I know. . . He's your twin brother, if anything, it'll be easier. And yes, yes I do think you're freaking out a bit." I shrugged my shoulders, my eyes still wide, and I broke into a slow walk around my room, circling her a few times.
"The problem is, the last time we spoke, well, it wasn't very good. I left home. . . our parents. . . they're very. . ." her eyebrows formed a line and her face turned to misunderstanding and a lost look. "They're very strict."
I stayed quiet, not having anything to say.
She went on, "Well, I left him alone. With them. They've always been worse to him, I don't know why. Something about always having to act a certain way. He's the heir, and well. . . I don't know. I just left him there, and we haven't spoken since."
A strong feeling of being uncomfortable hugged me, and I wanted nothing more than to leave the room. Why did she have to come to me with this? I didn't want to know anything about her or her family. I didn't want to be her friend, or pity her, or do anything with her.
"Why would you come to me with this? And why are you telling me all of this?"
She shrugged, "I can trust you, obviously." I couldn't tell if she was serious or sarcastic, what with the emphasis she put on the last word.
"Obviously," I repeated her, completely sarcastic. "Yes, because I definitely believe that."
"Well, I can. I know I can. I can feel it, you know. . ." she shook her head, pursing her lips, as if I knew exactly what she was talking about.
"What are you talking about?"
She threw her head back, groaning. "The magic, Adamos, I can feel it. We have the same. . . you know. . ." she did that eye thing again. If she could stop doing that, than maybe I could think about what she was saying, try to find the hidden meaning behind her words, but no. No, she had to bat her eyes and tilt her head and look at me like I was a pile of gold.
I shook off my dizziness, watching her sit on my bed, her chin rested in her hands. "What the fuck are you talking about? What magic? We're all wizards and witches here, you know? You're being weird."
"Oh my Lord, Adamos. The day in the corridor, remember, your arms. . . I saw it, then. It happens to me, too. Well, I mean it happens to me on my back, not my arms. . . I thought you knew that." she rambled, her eyes falling to my cheeks, then my left eye, then my right, then down to my. . . chin? She stuttered, "That I get it, too, I mean, not that you'd know that it happens to my back, er."
My eyes widened, she'd seen my arms that day. Would she tell people or hold it against me? Well, if she'd known for this long and kept it quiet, than I suppose not, but still. . . she was already blackmailing me for something else, wasn't she?
The magic. . . the same kind that Thalia was talking to me about? That kind of magic?
Thalia. . . where was she. I couldn't feel her anymore. She would be able to help me with all of this, sure she would.
"Right, yes." I nodded once. "Yes, of course. . . the attacks like that happen to you, too?" I cleared my throat, standing up straighter.
"Of course they do. They happen to both of us." she said matter-of-factly.
I frowned, "What do you mean?"
"Vasili and I. You know. . . because we're bonded? Who were you bound to?"
I stared at her, feeling like everything I knew was fake. What was she talking about, being bound to someone? And who the hell was Vasili? Was I bound to someone, and if so, then who? And when? And how? And why? And for how long?
"Vasili. . . ?"
"My twin." she nodded. My eyebrows raised and I let out an ahh as if I understood.
"So, who are you bound to?" she asked again, her eyes glowing.
I shrugged her off, "Not important. You came here for my help, right?" I took a step toward her, "Let me help you."
She nodded.
"So, when is your brother coming?"
"Well, he's already here."
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ERISED
Calantha and I had been sitting for what felt like hours, and over the time we'd said approximately four or so words to each other. Her head was in her hands and beneath the table, her legs were bouncing, and had been since she'd sat down. She was very on edge, what with how her eyes would scan the room as she picked at the hem of her sweater. I hadn't tried to ask her, but wanted to see if she'd bring it up on her own.
But eventually, I'd gotten tired, and somewhat worried at her altered behavior, and asked, "Calantha, what is going on with you?"
She jumped as if I'd startled her, then seemed to regain consciousness, remembering where she was. "Nothing, I'm fine." that was a lie. "Have you seen Bassett today? She's looking very pretty." she nodded toward the farther end of the table where my eyes landed on Lana, along with a boy sitting next to her.
"I told you, Calantha," I sighed, trying to be as kind as possible, once again dismissing this whole. . . Lana thing, without sounding like a dick. "I'm not interested in her," I spoke slowly, but my eyes fell on the boy sitting next to Lana again.
He wore a black knit sweater that hugged his neck line comfortably, and suffocated his hands, allowing only the tips of his fingers to be shown from the ends of the sleeves. His hair--blacker than Calantha's--hugged the tips of his pale ears, turning into soft O's, framing his masculine structure.
He looked as though he was carved from an old philosopher, or written by a beautiful woman. Who he was, I didn't know, nor had I ever seen him before, but there was something very comforting about him.
The way he kept his hands clasped together before him on the table, with his head low, looking worriedly around him. Any time someone would walk behind him and Lana, his head would turn in the slightest of ways, and his eyes would divert, as if he were planning out what to do if this person was planning to attack.
He was on edge, anxiety-ridden, and his body language--or at least, from what I could see beside Calantha-- told me that he was closing himself off, making himself smaller as though he was constantly in the presence of an authority figure.
"Him," I nudged Calantha, knocking her out of her daze, catching her eye then nodding toward Lana's direction again. "Who is he?"
She followed my eyes, then frowned, fixing herself upward with the help of the table's surface. When she looked at me, she seemed confused, with that quizzical tilt of her brow, and that curve in her blossomed lips. This was the most colorful she looked since she'd sat down. Since I'd seen her this morning, she'd been quiet and very content, which was unusual as of late.
She opened her mouth and then shut it again, taking another look over her shoulder at the quiet boy. I watched her, waiting for her to answer, revelling in the turn of her eyes as she met mine again. "That's Bassett's twin brother. Vasili."
So that's his name. . .Vasili. Very fitting.
I tilted my head while observing the boy again, "Greek," I shrugged. "Royalty."
"What?"
"Vasili is of Greek origin. It means royalty."
Calantha looked at me as if I'd just recited every book in the library. "Why do you know that?"
"I told you, I speak six languages."
She huffed, standing up, "You never told me that!"
"I just did!"
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MATTHEO
The wind whipped at my face, hitting the most sensitive parts of my skin, making every bone ache. The sky was darker than usual, with less stars blanketing the world hugging the lands beneath it, and the wind was colder, harsher. The moon was nowhere to be found, which wasn't necessarily in my favor, but for some reason. . . it made everything more peaceful, as if there wasn't some old God watching my every move in the sky.
I coughed into my sleeve before shoving open the planked door, being welcomed by the same grossly smell, and walked into the rickety old shack, quickly shutting the door behind me. It was completely dark, all but for the light illuminating from the tip of my wand, but I could see the outline of where Epiphany lay on the ground in the corner.
"Epiphany," I called out to her, my voice hoarse and raspy from the cold. I was starting to feel sick, thanks to this shitty weather, but it would be over soon enough, I assumed. Spring would come. I called out to her again, "Epiphany, it's me. It's Theo."
There was a quiet shuffle on the ground, then light from another source shined, and I bent down to meet Epiphany's swollen eyes, hugged by her eyelashes. She was holding her wand up to mine, trying to smile.
Tears were fresh on her warm cheeks, and as I hugged her, as gently as I could, I felt her entire body tremble against mine.
"I brought you some more blankets," I pulled away from her, pulling the bag I carried off of my back, rustling through it, pulling out different blankets and quilts, handing them to her.
She fixed them on herself, wrapping some of them around her to fight against the cold. "What did you tell Professor Dumbledore? Did my friends ask where I was?" she curled up into a ball and shuffled farther back into the corner, her voice getting quieter.
"I told Dumbledore that you're back at home with family, visiting sickly grandparents. I told your friends the same thing. Marley asks about you every day."
The truth was, I couldn't let her waltz back into Hogwarts looking the way she did. I had to carry her to this old shack, buried deep by the heinous willow guarding part of Hogwarts. She couldn't walk after. . . after what had happened at the Manor.
Her skin looked paler than usual, only because of the purple circles surrounding both of her eyes, almost looking like she'd painted herself as some sort of animal--which, in honesty, was something that Epiphany would do. Her lips were swollen and dry, bruised around her entire mouth.
Her ears had finally stopped bleeding, which I was thankful for, but still worried about. Her hands, which still trembled, were getting steadier, though I could tell she would try and hide them from me whenever I visited her.
I did my best to bring her food whenever I could, along with water. When I arrived, if she was asleep, than I would sit with her, and wait for her to wake up, so she knew I didn't forget to come by. I was missing class, yes, but I couldn't fathom sitting in Charms thinking about whether or not Epiphany believed I wasn't going to come and visit her anymore.
Of course she understood why she couldn't go back to school just yet, but I knew she didn't understand what was going on, or why Malfoy did what he did, or why we were even invited to the Manor in the first place. In all honesty, neither did I.
"How is Calantha?"
"Hm? Sorry?" I turned away, again shoveling through my bag, searching for something that would gear the conversation in a different direction.
She sighed, "I said, how is Calantha? Did you do what I told you? Did you call her pretty?"
"Well," I laughed, "Well, not necessarily."
She sighed again, heavier this time, and laid down. "Did you talk to her? Is she okay?"
I thought about the things she'd said the other night, my eyes growing heavy. I sighed, "To be honest with you, Epiphany, I don't think Calantha and I are as close as we used to be. It's not anybody's fault," I lied. "It just happens to people sometimes. But it's okay, because we're both happier now."
"No you're not! You're not happy, I can tell you're lying right now."
"No, you can't, Epiphany." I tried to reach out to her, but she scooted away from me, making me frown. Surely she couldn't be this upset about Calantha and I. . . she didn't even know what had happened.
I tried again, "Epiphany, listen. What happened to us. . . it's hard to explain, but I did some bad things, and I didn't want to hurt her. I did what was best for her, and for myself. For everyone, at least."
"Ugh! Of course, the one time you decide not to be selfish," she rolled her eyes. "Well, will you ever be together again?"
"We were never together."
"But you wanted to be?"
"Er, well," I hesitated, "Well, yes."
We both fell into a comfortable silence, and I was thankful for it. I didn't want to talk about this any more than I needed to, even though I knew I couldn't avoid it forever. I would subdue the pain of recognition for as long as I felt was necessary, or for as long as I could. Eventually, I'd see her in the hallway and I'd crack, but that was then, and this was now.
I sat against the wall beside Epiphany, letting her rest her head on my lap as she laid down, her eyes quickly fluttering shut. "Where did you find this shack?" she asked. My heart sunk, my eyes fluttering from wall to wall, where I could still make out the claw marks through the dark.
"It was made long ago for a boy who had to hide sometimes, like you."
"Did he have to hide like I do? For the same reason? Why did he have his own house?"
I smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "This isn't a house, just a place to stay for a night or two. And, well, he didn't come here for the same reason. But I can tell you more about that tomorrow, why don't you try to sleep."
"When I wake up, will you be gone?"
I didn't want to tell her yes, but at the same time, to tell her no would only be a lie, and for her to fall asleep hopeful only to wake up to a disappointment was not something I was willing to settle for.
I tilted my head down to look at her, "No," I sighed aloud, "No, I won't be. I'm sorry."
She shrugged, "It's 'right. I'll just talk to my friend like usual."
I sat up, eyebrows furrowed, head tilted toward her. She was playing with the pocket of my sweatpants, her lips mumbling something that I couldn't hear or make out, but she was in full concentration.
"Your friend?" I repeated her, just a hint of worry in my voice, "What friend?"
"The little girl," she sighed, adjusting herself. "The one that comes and sits with me when I'm alone. When you aren't here."
"Does she go to school with you? Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"
She shook her head, "No, I only just met her. I've never seen her before."
I grimaced, "Why didn't you tell me this?"
"She told me not to. Thalia said you weren't ready to know yet, because she couldn't visit you, and she didn't want you to be sad, so she made me promise I wouldn't tell you."
She kept on talking, rambling on about Marley and classes, about apple juice and music she missed listening to. But I couldn't listen, the more she spoke, the more my mind seemed to fall apart, my stomach turning in on itself. And my bones shivered, like spiders crawling around in my veins, swimming through my blood.
She never knew Thalia. Never heard or saw her. She wouldn't know her. There was no way.
So who was the little girl visiting her, and why. And if it was Thalia, than that had meant that...
I didn't know what it meant, but I did know that she was dead. That I'd watched her die, right before me, in my own arms, in her dirty bathtub, soaked in her blood. I knew that she was gone and had been for almost five years, and that people can't just come back after so much time.
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