E . R . B II
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣ ⋅ .
𝓙ust as Soraya was excited last year about her going off to Hogwarts, she was much more excited for her return. She was in anticipation to see her friends again and getting back in class to learn the new curriculum. Fortunately, she didn't believe there was going to be anything to feel exhausted about as her next big exams, her N.E.W.T's, were next year, so besides her little agreement with Dumbledore and acting as though she had no clue what was to come, Soraya was sort of stress-free. . .
But then it still wasn't technically completely. . . it was just that every time she thought of what this school year would entitle, her mind would go to Professor Dumbledore. For the past weeks has she elected to not think of it, but now she couldn't help it. It was just starting to frantically ring her bell of how disturbing and saddening this was despite her only knowing the man for a little over a year. Honestly, Soraya didn't want him to go, for she feared of what the climax would presently be like for everyone.
"Are there tears in your eyes?" asked Ginny. Soraya blinked her eyes and looked at her freckled face. "I've never seen you near tears before, what's wrong?"
"What's wrong is you making me look like a buffoon."
They both turned to the bathroom mirror. The last time she stood in front of one for a long period of time was when her father cut her hair. Now that Hogwarts was tomorrow, and though Soraya didn't care for a style on her hair, she let Ginny experiment as they waited for the laundry to finish. And unsurprisingly, Ginny frowned at the terrible hairstyle she chose which was to straighten it.
Ginny ran her hand under her chin, "Well... I don't think it's that bad." Her frown became deeper. "Okay it's really bad."
"I look like a bard," said Soraya depressively. "All I need is a lute and some handsome hero to make a poem out of."
"Why not Harry?" Ginny snorted.
The tears in her eyes dried and she tried to pull a very convincing disgusted face despite her heart near exploding at the mention of their friend.
"You like him don't you?"
Soraya nearly choked.
"I've noticed it," she went on. "I use to like him years ago, always had this hopeful look that he'll notice me and you look the same sometimes."
"That's nice," said Soraya flatly.
"Well I've move on obviously," snorted Ginny.
"And I will too."
Ginny's face fell.
"Why? If he likes you —"
"Which he doesn't — at least not like that I believe," said Soraya and turning back to the mirror. She pointed her finger to her hair, it redoing itself back into curls. "I just have to move on. . ."
Ginny opened her mouth to say something but Soraya was up and out of the bathroom. She didn't favor of speaking or even thinking about her like of Harry anymore due to the misfortune of it. It pained her beyond words imaginable and tore more and more scars into her heart and the lining of her stomach. Soraya really did need to move on, but she just didn't know how...
The departure the following morning was smoother than usual. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of the Burrow to find them waiting, trunks packed; Hermione's cat, Crookshanks, safely enclosed in his traveling basket; Harry's owl, Hedwig; Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon; and Ginny's new purple Pygmy Puff, Arnold, in cages.
"Au revoir, 'Arry," said Fleur throatily, kissing him good-bye. Ron hurried forward, looking hopeful, but Ginny stuck out her foot and he fell, sprawling in the dust at Fleur's feet. Furious, red-faced, and dirt-spattered, he hurried into the car without saying good-bye.
There was no cheerful Hagrid waiting for them at King's Cross Station. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forward the moment the cars stopped, flanking the party, and marched them into the station without speaking, except one to Soraya who had gently let her hold his hand while she pushed her trolley after giving her a thick letter.
She was saddened her father couldn't be here to wave her off, but she felt slightly better knowing that he had made the time to write her a rather length letter before her going off.
"Quick, quick, through the barrier," said Mrs. Weasley, who seemed a little flustered by this austere efficiency. "Harry had better go first, with —"
She looked inquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized Harry's upper arm, and attempted to steer him toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
"I can walk, thanks," said Harry irritably, jerking his arm out of the Auror's grip. He pushed his trolley directly at the solid barrier and disappeared.
The Auror Soraya was holding onto looked at her and she nod. A second later she emerged with him, standing on platform nine and three-quarters, where the scarlet Hogwarts Express stood belching steam over the crowd. Hermione and the Weasleys joined her within seconds.
"You'd better get straight on the train, all of you, you've only got a few minutes to go," said Mrs. Weasley, consulting her watch.
Soraya thanked the Auror and gathered her trunk and bode her goodbye to Mr and Mrs Weasley who, in the moment, invited her for Christmas this holiday. Once on the train, Ron and Hermione went off towards the Prefect's carriage. Soraya did not fancy being a third wheel with Ginny and Dean Thomas, so she opted out of being with her and set off alone to find Caliban.
There wasn't anything different on the train in comparison to how it was last year. Compartments were already filled to the brim with students who peered out through the window in hopes to see Harry, the so called 'Chosen-One'. At least there was no aggravation onboard this time around towards him but much like excitement and curiosity. Soraya adjusted her trunk and continued through until she finally saw her best friend through the window of a compartment. She was going to slide the door open to greet him, but she caught sight of a long haired girl sitting beside him. She had to be a year or so younger, with a fair reddish face, deep dimples, and slight buck teeth. Soraya at first thought nothing of it until Caliban leaned down and pecked her lips. She was in complete shock, her eyebrows risen high to her hairline as she did not expect to see something like this today at all.
"Oh, Rosy," sang voice behind her. Soraya turned around and saw Draco Malfoy. It was odd that he wasn't with his cronies or with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode. "Glad he's moved on from you, hope you aren't too hurt about it."
"We were never together," said Soraya. Malfoy blinked at her, unsure of her words. "Do you honestly think him having a girlfriend would change anything between us?"
Malfoy sneered, "Whatever, the point is that he's not in any kind of association with a blood-traitor like you anymore."
"If that's what you think. . ."
Since Soraya also didn't want to be the third wheel of Caliban and his new girlfriend, she walked away from the compartments to find another. Tragically, Malfoy tailed after her.
"Is there something you want?" she asked serenely.
"What makes you think Capuano'll still be your friend?" he asked.
"Why do you care so much, do you like him?" Malfoy's face shrewd to disgust making Soraya give a gentle smile. "Oh there's nothing wrong with it Draco, I won't tell anyone your secret."
"It's a shame how disappointing you are," he grumbled. She rose an eyebrow in question. "I've heard tales of your mother and you're nothing like her."
Soraya had abruptly stopped and looked at his smirk. She should have known now since the events of the Department of Mysteries have passed that the talk of her mother by the only boy who knew of her in school was going to be spoken about often. She can't lie and say she wasn't very interested in these stories though, but if from anyone, she did not want to hear it from Draco Malfoy.
"How terrible. Your companionless mother and maniac aunt must be deeply grieving from the loss. How would either ever —?"
Malfoy pushed her against the wall and gripped her arm harshly, but Soraya didn't react.
"Don't think I don't know you, cousin," Malfoy sneered. "I know who you are and I know your father, so if one peep come from you this year about me or my family again I'll have Fenrir Greyback pay him a —"
"Soraya?"
Soraya turned towards the voice of Harry. His hands held onto his trunk and Hedwig's cage from down the corridor as he made his way towards her. Malfoy let her go and walked down the opposite way. She sighed and rubbed her sore arm.
"That was Malfoy," Harry stated hastily. He stepped forward to follow him, but Soraya grabbed ahold of his wrist and sighed. He looked down and scanned her for any injury. "Did he hurt you? What did he want?"
"It takes a lot to hurt me, Harry," said Soraya softly. "And it was just cousin banter, you know with my mother's death and my isolation we've missed a lot of family time with the other."
Soraya tugged her trunk along and began to walk, Harry did the same with his own and Hedwig and awkwardly walked beside her. Her flat humor was new to his ears.
"So you are related to Malfoy?" He asked.
"I don't know through who exactly but I think our mothers were cousins," said Soraya. "I don't really want to talk about it though Harry, I should find a compartment..."
"Well I need to too," said Harry. "Fancy trying to look together?" Soraya looked up at him. The feeling had came back upon looking at his eyes, but she forced it down to bury it once more.
"Sure, Harry."
There were no dirty looks from anyone directed at Harry as they walked. . . but there were dirty looks from many thrown at Soraya. She had suddenly become too dull to care though as they had bigger and better chances than her. Thankfully, the following by a group of mesmerising girls and even a few boys were ceased as Neville Longbottom neared.
"Hi, Harry!" said Neville, round-faced and struggling toward him, "Soraya."
"Neville!" said Harry in relief.
"Hello, Neville," said Soraya.
"Hello, Harry and Soraya," said a girl with long hair and large misty eyes, who was just behind Neville.
"Luna, hi, how are you?"
"Very well, thank you," said Luna. She was clutching a magazine to her chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside.
"Quibbler still going strong, then?" asked Harry.
"Oh yes, circulation's well up," said Luna happily.
"Let's find seats," said Harry, and the four of them set off along the train through hordes of silently staring students. At last they found an empty compartment, and Harry hurried them inside gratefully.
"They're even staring at us!" said Neville, indicating himself and Luna. "Because we're with you!"
"They're staring at you because you were at the Ministry too," said Harry, as he hoisted his trunk into the luggage rack. He held his hand out to Soraya for her trunk; she lifted it to him and went to take a seat. After he set it away, he sat right beside her. "Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Prophet, you must've seen it."
"Yes, I thought Gran would be angry about all the publicity," said Neville, "but she was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my dad at long last. She bought me a new wand, look!"
He pulled it out and showed it to Harry.
"Cherry and unicorn hair," he said proudly. "We think it was one of the last Ollivander ever sold, he vanished next day — oi, come back here, Trevor!"
And he dived under the seat to retrieve his toad.
"Are we still doing D.A. meetings this year, Harry?" asked Luna, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Quibbler.
"No point now we've got rid of Umbridge, is there?" said Harry, sitting down. Neville bumped his head against the seat as he emerged from under it. He looked most disappointed.
"I liked the D.A.! I learned loads with you!"
"I enjoyed the meetings too," said Luna serenely. "It was like having friends."
Soraya never had the experience until the last moment, but she understood exactly where Luna was coming from. Before Harry could respond to that however, there was a disturbance outside their compartment door; a group of fourth-year girls was whispering and giggling together on the other side of the glass.
"You ask him!"
"No, you!"
"I'll do it!"
And one of them, a bold-looking girl with large dark eyes, a prominent chin, and long black hair pushed her way through the door.
"Hi, Harry, I'm Romilda, Romilda Vane," she said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them," she added in a stage whisper, indicating Neville's bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as he groped around for Trevor, and Luna, who was now wearing her free Spectrespecs, which gave her the look of a demented, multicolored owl. "You can even bring him if you like," she gestured to Soraya who made a face of dislike.
"They're friends of mine," said Harry coldly. "And she's staying here."
"Oh," said the girl, looking very surprised. "Oh. Okay."
And she withdrew, sliding the door closed behind her.
"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," said Luna, once again displaying her knack for complete honesty.
"You are cool," said Harry shortly. "None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."
"That's a very nice thing to say," beamed Luna. Then she pushed her Spectrespecs farther up her nose and settled down to read The Quibbler.
"We didn't face him, though," said Neville, emerging from under the seat with fluff and dust in his hair and a resigned-looking Trevor in his hand. "You did. You should hear my gran talk about you. 'That Harry Potter's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!' She'd give anything to have you as a grandson. . . ."
Harry laughed uncomfortably and changed the subject to O.W.L. results. Soraya didn't mind too much that she wasn't in the Daily Prophets, but did they remember that she was there too? She too faced Voldemort but yet there were no words about her bravery or anything. Ridding the mild form of jealousy, she looked out the window. The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; they passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It wasn't long of her looking out until she was pat on the knee. She turned and looked at Harry who pointed up, and there she saw Thirteen by the now open sliding door.
"Oh, Thirteen," smiled Soraya. "Hello."
"Soraya," Thirteen greeted, dull toned as usual. "Are you alright?"
Because it was a question she hasn't been asked for almost two months, she took her time to actually think about it. Soraya was perfectly fine and was still excited for Hogwarts, but yet she realized she's been bland from the moment she woke. . . Internally shaking this off, she sat up straighter and looked back at Thirteen.
"Yes, I was just daydreaming."
Thirteen was neither relieved of this or suspicious. Soraya could never look past his emotionless face to truly understand what exactly was going on in his head. She had nothing to debate over but his thin lips and baggy eyes. Soraya looked around at her friends who stared up at him, each with very perplexed expressions.
"Then can I borrow you for five?" uttered Thirteen.
Soraya looked back at him and nodded. She got up, trying her best to not spare Harry a look, and walked over to the door. Thirteen stepped to the side and let her pass before shutting it and walking beside her.
"You look down," he said quietly.
"Had a run in with Malfoy earlier," said Soraya. "He threatened my father with Fenrir Greyback, whoever that is, if I make another prediction about his family. I thought it'll be easy, but it's quite difficult to not make predictions of myself." Thirteen didn't say anything making her look at him. "You're always down too."
"Not down, just not amused by people."
"I'm people."
"And I hate to tell you but you're not amusing."
Soraya smiled and looked away. The compartment he was staying in wasn't that far from the one she was sharing with Harry, Neville, and Luna. Thirteen slid the door opened and let her inside first. A great horned owl with dark yellow eyes looked at her from the luggage rack beside one trunk with the initials, ɛ.ʀ.ɮ.ɨɨ.
"Ethan!" gasp Soraya, snapping her fingers. She turned around at Thirteen who rose an eyebrow as he shut the door behind him. "Is that your name?"
"No."
She sighed and watched him grab a gift bag from the seats and hand it to her.
"To cheer you up," he said. Soraya rose an eyebrow but took it nonetheless.
It wasn't even close to her birthday so she wasn't too sure what this was about. Despite it, she walked over to the seat and placed it down to take out the ton of paper tissue. She looked inside at the item, and down below saw something that resembled a — broom? Thinking it was a key chain or something, she reached her hand inside to grab it. . . but it reached lower. . . and lower. . . and even lower. Her entire arm to her shoulder was inside the bag before it finally grasp the wood of the broom. She slowly took it out, the broom extending longer and longer until it was a full one standing before her. She looked at Thirteen who had a small smile.
"I think you're a great flyer," he shrugged, "so I thought you deserved your very own broom."
"But —" said Soraya, looking at the broom again. It was similar to his own, the Nimbus 2001. She couldn't imagine the amount of money he spent. "I have to pay you back."
"No," said Thirteen, "it's a gift."
"But I have to —"
"I'm not taking it," he said firmly. Soraya looked back at the broom. She couldn't find the right words to express her thanks. "Do you like. . . — oof."
She had settled on placing her broom aside and pulling him in a bone crushing hug. Unlike the last time she's shown platonic fondness though, Thirteen pat her back almost as though he had never engaged in a hug before.
"Alright, I don't have much air left."
Soraya chuckled and unwrapped her arms from him to peer up. His face was still emotionless. . . but for the first time since knowing him Soraya felt infatuated. The feeling had appeared like a slap in the instant, just the thought of it feeling like whiplash made her release a silly giggle. It was odd, but she quickly regained herself and apologetically smiled for her brief ditziness, but the moment Soraya had decided to turn away, Thirteen lifted her chin up with his hand and pressed his lips to hers.
Something much different than butterflies erupted in the pit of Soraya's stomach. It felt as if a sole fire had been lit and was growing stronger and stronger the longer her warm lips moved against his cold ones. Thirteen moved her sweater and settled his hands on her revealing waist. Soraya was expecting coolness but the heat grew and made her feel weak and dazed. As his hands traveled down to her bum, he moved his soft peppering kisses to the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, until finally her neck making her let out the softest breath from her mouth. This was no natural feeling, but this new obsessive fire made her want to do unthinkable things to put it out.
"Ahem!"
Soraya pulled away from Thirteen, who trailed his hands back up her side, and looked towards the door. Standing there was an annoyed Harry with an uncomfortable Neville behind him. In the instant did the fire burn out and sense returned much to Soraya's dismay causing her to pull away from Thirteen and near them.
"Yes?" she asked rather breathlessly.
"Slughorn wants to see us," Harry said, his eyes not settled on her, but behind her.
He held out a scroll of parchment tied with a violet ribbon. Perplexed, she took the scroll addressed to her and opened it.
Soraya,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.
Sincerely,
𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓯𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓸𝓻 𝓗. 𝓔. 𝓕. 𝓢𝓵𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷
She didn't have the time to fully register why the new Potions Professor wanted to see her since Harry had took it back the moment he knew she finished.
"We'll wait outside," he said lowly. She also didn't get a chance to nod as the sliding door had closed shut.
Soraya turned back around to Thirteen.
"Sorry," he breathed. She didn't know what he was talking about at first until he gestured with a lazy finger to the both of them, "I should have asked before I —"
"I didn't mind actually," she said. "It was. . . nice."
Thirteen blinked at her as she moved to grab up her broom to place back in the extended gift bag. She stuffed the tissue paper back inside and grabbed the handles to hold. She turned back to Thirteen and without much thought, stood on her toes and softly kissed his lips. The feeling from before faintly returned for the two seconds before it was forced back down due to her pulling away.
"Thank you again. . . E."
"You're welcome, Soraya," Thirteen lightly smiled.
Soraya walked towards the sliding door, pulling it open and closing it behind her. Neville was kicking air and dust bunnies on the corridor floor and Harry was leaned against the wall before noticing her, and together without a word they walked ahead.
__________
(A/N): I really had hope for Haraya but well... here's Thiraya 😐 We all seen this coming.
What do you think of Thirteen or 'E' though? He's sweet... I think.
* Edited as of 07/09/23 *