FLASHBACK THREE
I wondered if someone ever let their intrusive thoughts win. The urge to do something unnecessary, but necessarily needed to be done at the moment.
I wondered.
"What are you thinking about?" I asked Granger as she raised her head from the desk in annoyance.
"I'm just — " she took a deep breath in before she continued her sentence, "I'm just really tired of searching and searching for answers and not getting any. How long is this going to go on for?"
"I don't think it's going to end any time soon if you ask me honestly, Granger. I've asked myself that question quite a lot of times, trust me."
Tracing the corners of the book as her eyes were searching for unfound answers. "I just really wish we could find a way to undo all of this and get it out of the way."
"It will come undone soon, Granger. We just need to look further into it. It's just hard because of the strict laws Professor Umbridge has put into motion."
"I just can't understand how Tom is immortal. It just doesn't make sense to me. What could he possibly have done with his soul to keep him alive like this."
"I don't blame you, but unfortunately he used his brilliance in the wrong way that has given us nothing but harm as he chases a seventeen-year-old boy."
Her hair was pulled back in a small twist as her wand was holding it all together. Usually, we were allowed to wear casual clothing but after Professor Umbridge, only uniforms were allowed to be worn till quarter past seven.
Flipping through the pages of the book in front of me as I tried to find something out about destroying a dark wizard. There was nothing in here.
There was nothing everywhere.
I couldn't understand if the school was trying to keep us safe or leading us into failure with Tom at large again.
Magick Moste Evile was a book that contained the most information about the advanced dark arts — it had mentions of Horcruxes, Enchanted necklaces, Charmed knives, and other artifacts. Some of the objects were so evil that even speaking about them was forbidden.
This book used to be placed in the restricted section before. Considering it went into the ranges of the dark part of the Wizarding World. It was placed between the Defense Against the Dark Arts books after the passing of Cedric Diggory.
If I had to guess, it was placed there on purpose. I didn't see any other reasoning behind it. I had a feeling this book may contain something important for us in the future.
I studied thoroughly through the explanations and analysis of the few dark objects mentioned. Especially about Enchanted necklaces that could lead to death, knives that cause pure agony. There was a mention of a certain object that was a Horcrux.
There wasn't a picture since it can be recreated to a new form.
New form?
I would usually like to look around the environment I'd surround myself with to give myself ideas. It always worked. My eyes landed upon a girl, she had long blonde hair, it was beautiful with the thickness of the hair wrapped into a high ponytail.
Short strands of hair pulled out to frame her face as her eyes would jump between the book she was reading and Granger. She would look at her differently than you were at a stranger.
She was interested in her. That was obvious. It was even more obvious considering she was holding the book upside down pretending to read it. It made me smile as I looked back down at the dark artifacts and my smile was wiped away.
It was sad how quickly I was reminded of reality and how the notations of romance were probably not written in my books. I felt like a confused person, I didn't believe in love — at all. I found it dysfunctional and unreal, but at the same time, I was a complete and utter hopeless romantic.
I'd give myself a certificate for having a broad imagination but sometimes it was truly concerning how it would manipulate certain things. Did I like this person, or do I like the idea of them I have created in my head?
That was the big question having over my head like a pendulum, back and forth and no matter how much force I applied — it wouldn't stop swinging. I would blame myself for being a hopeless romantic because of books as well.
I would do anything to have the love interest the main character has. The way they would risk for them, sacrifice for them, the way they would get to know every inch of their body and mind. It's like they would inhale them like they were a fresh breath of air for them.
I wanted it as much as I was in denial of it.
I mostly thought I wasn't worthy of it, or maybe not that — I mostly thought how I'd never received it so I chose to not believe in it. It was easier that way. It was simpler. Bittersweet.
Love was bittersweet. The reality was bittersweet.
"Do you think if I were to ask a Professor about this? They could have an answer?" Granger asked as she slightly bit down on her bottom lip. She usually did that when she was stressed, which means she did it often.
"I don't think any of the Professors would willingly answer that question, Granger." She looked disappointed. "As well as the fact we're asking questions about the dark wizard, wouldn't that raise quite suspicions on why a bunch of students are suddenly interested?"
"Couldn't it be like a bunch of students picking up a murder case and wanting to solve it, right? It could be that simple if we made it."
"Honestly I can't tell if you're trying to convince me or yourself." I looked at her with curiosity as my eyes drifted to the blonde behind us. Her eyes would still lurk at Granger from time to time, tracing the edges of her book. Her Slytherin tie was loosely tied around her neck as she fiddled with the hem of her skirt.
I couldn't help but look at her. Look at the way she looks at Granger. The urge to make her realize.
"I'm becoming desperate would be the right word." She indeed did look desperate. She has been. After our fourth year, everyone has been on a little edge. Since the death of Cedric Diggory, Granger has worked continuously.
The need to prove to everyone that Harry Potter is not a liar, that he speaks the truth. She needed answers and she was willing to do anything for them. It was quite clear.
Not in the matter that she cared about what people had to say. Well, maybe a little bit on what others had to say, but more towards trying to find more people. Trying to make alliances to defeat whatever might be coming our way.
I wasn't very friendly with the Gryffindors in the beginning, considering the natural house rivalry. Although some of the few moments over the past few years changed that, it made me wonder why it began in the first place.
I'd like to say it began when Granger had this week-long crush on Pansy during our third year. It was quite obvious with the way she'd present herself. She even wore green when we visited Hogsmeade.
But she wasn't sure of who she truly liked. She was confused about her sexuality in the matter of if she likes both men and women, or just women? She still isn't sure about that matter. I happened to like girls, and she thought I'd be the best person for advice.
I give great advice but don't take it myself, so I wasn't sure if I was the right person if I'm being entirely honest.
My love life was nonexistent. I don't know if I blame myself or the past. I could say both. I didn't know what I wanted, I wasn't sure of what I deserved, and I didn't know if I was going to receive it. I believe that sums it up.
I was stuck between the choices of being a hopeless romantic, and someone who didn't believe in the notation of love. I was confused, to say the least. I didn't want to ring around the people I was interested in within my confusion.
It wouldn't be fair. I didn't feel sure. I was confident in a lot of things, but this was the one thing that held me back entirely. My eyes wandered up to the blonde again, and this time she had dozed off, her head resting on the base of the table as her book was held open.
I was interested in knowing her. Especially interested because she didn't let Granger out of her sight. That was the beginning of something.
There were often nights when I couldn't sleep at all. No matter how hard I tried. I'd attempt to sleep and I'd wake up every passing hour. It was exhausting knowing this was the one thing this is supposed to make you feel better — yet it did the opposite for me.
Tossing and turning every minute on my bed as I finally gave up and I got up. It was probably around three in the morning when I first looked at the clock. Running my hand through the strands of my hair as I took a deep breath in.
I felt insanely tired yet I couldn't sleep at all. I couldn't tell if I was trying to sleep because I was supposed to or because something kept me up. I moved towards my bookshelf, I had the urge to reorganize it every week.
Every time I would purchase a new book, or series, it needed to be organized accordingly. Those were my unwritten rules. I liked writing in my books, most of the reasons I wouldn't lend my books to others. I wouldn't be happy with the idea of them peeking through my thoughts.
I pulled a book out as I flipped through the pages, seeing my thoughts scrambled across the pages, small hearts on the corners of the book. So many emotions into words on paper. There were just words, so why did it mean so much to me?
Those words helped identify me. My emotions, my thoughts, my perspective. It made me feel not so alone. Being able to live in more than one reality, being able to connect with just words on paper, made me happy.
There's a comfort in those words. An understanding, a connection, a whole new perspective on how we see things. You see ideas, the world, and opinions from a whole different head. We adjust, grow out of our comfort zone, and can see things differently.
There's such beauty in that.
If you realize, while reading, we don't know the appearance of these characters, so what do we fall in love with? We fall in love with their words, their thoughts, and their hearts. We fall in love with the idea of them, their words of affirmation, and their thinking. We fall in love with their souls, the idea of them.
Their good intentions, their imperfections, the descriptions of their laugh, how heavenly it sounds. Their touch, and how soft it feels that you wish you could take it and lock it forever in your heart. The way they stare, and you wish you can pause this moment forever.
Eyes have a much deeper meaning than people lead on. It has so much to say, and it does without saying anything at all. Even though they didn't say it to each other, they knew.
I had fallen so in love with the characters in these books that I had ached for the kind of love they experienced. To have someone that'd look at you like you're the most beautiful thing they've ever seen. To look at you and realize, you're the best thing that has ever happened to them.
To look at you and realize that they wouldn't know what they would do if they lost you. It hurt me so bad knowing how much I wanted it but some part of me feared it. I want to be something to someone, but I'm scared that if I give in, it won't be as good as I have romanticized in my head.
I closed the book at that thought. Putting it back into the small space as I shook my head at the unreal idea of love. Unrealistic expectations.
Taking a deep breath in as I looked out the window, water dripping across the glass as it was dark outside. Tracing the lines across my palm I turned around, thinking it would be a great time to question Professor Snape about some dark artifacts.
Running a hand over my skirt as I walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. It was always an eerie feeling walking through these halls over the years, it was such a wonderful feeling but knowing that good things didn't last forever — hurt.
Some students were up, studying for their classes as I walked quietly through the halls. I was trying to come up with an appropriate way to ask about Horcruxes. Not every day a student walks in and asks you about dark artifacts.
I knew he'd be awake as I knocked on his door. There was complete silence for a minute. I was beginning to think this was a horrible idea and wanted to turn around when the door opened.
Pushing it forward with my hand as I walked in. It was gloomy and dark, there were stacks of paper on every side of the room, filled with books on every shelf. It was dimly lit, shelves of large jars filled with slimy, revolting things. There were bits of animals, and plants in them — with every color potion lined across.
It was in the school dungeons so it was always awfully cold there. He was sitting on a black leather chair as a quill was between the tips of his fingers.
"Ms. Young," he spoke very slowly as a chill crept across my arms, "it is obnoxiously quite early for a student to be out of bed."
That was an obvious statement, good observation.
"Now tell me," he said, moving to the next parchment, "what may I assist you with, not that I have a choice."
"I was hoping you could answer a question for me."
"At four in the morning?" He asked, emphasis on the current time.
"Yes," I said, "at four in the morning."
He raised a brow out of curiosity with my immediate answer as he went back to grading the assignments. "Don't just stand there, I want this to be over as quickly as possible."
I wasn't sure if I was offended by the comment or not as I let it pass and went on. "I was hoping you would know anything about some dark artifacts."
He was continuously writing on the parchment with his quill as he slowly slowed down. "Dark artifacts?"
"Yes."
"You do realize that I am a Potions Professor, correct?" He spoke in a very slow tone, increasing his tone on potions to make it clear if I came to the right teacher. "I would say Professor Umbridge would be the right person for your question."
He was playing clueless on purpose, understood.
"I'm pretty sure every person at Hogwarts is aware that you've wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position for quite a while now, Professor." He looked up at me as I looked back, I wasn't going to play clueless. I needed answers.
He tilted his head at my answer as I slightly swallowed. "As well as the fact that I know that you would be the right person for this question and not Professor Umbridge." There, a boost of ego, every man enjoys that.
He looked back down at the assignments. "All the answers about the dark artifacts are in the textbooks provided in the Hogwarts library, Ms. Young — "
"I know that — "
"But I've taught you for the last five years, and I'm aware of the fact that you aren't completely brainless like Mr. Longbottom." He gestures at the assignment below him.
"I'm not sure how that correlates with me but I have."
"What artifact are you interested in, Ms. Young?"
It took me a second to process what I was about to do right as I stood there and felt my soul do an entire three-sixty. "I wanted to know about Horcruxes."
His quill stopped moving as the word Horcrux came out of my mouth. He put the quill down as his attention diverted towards me. My breaths felt like they were picking up as his eyes were blankly staring at me.
"Horcruxes," he repeated slowly, "why are you interested in Horcruxes, Ms. Young. Last I checked, that wasn't in the syllabus for fifth years, or in the syllabus at all." I couldn't tell if he was curious, upset, or angry.
"I'm aware, Professor. That's why I'm here."
"Did Potter set you up to this?"
"No — "
"Are you getting information for him?"
"No, this isn't about Potter, I don't even know — "
"You guys are coming together for trouble again?" He stood up as he took quick steps toward me and I took steps back.
"We aren't going for trouble, it's just a question."
"Are you and Potter planning on going straight into a suicide mission?" He asked as I grew confused. Suicide mission? What?
"No, what? No — this is not what this is."
"Then I should ask why you're asking about Horcruxes when there's little to no mention about it in the library textbooks, Ms. Young."
"I'm just curious — "
"About a dark artifact?"
"It's just a question." I took a step back as he grew angry.
"Let me remind you, Ms. Young, a certain student asked the same question out of curiosity a few years ago, and it did not end well."
"I don't know if that student has any correlation with me."
"It does correlate with your question."
"Then what is a Horcrux?"
"It's very — very dark magic that you should not be dealing with. It's the wickedest of magical inversions, yet one of the most intriguing things."
"If it's so wicked, how does it exist in the first place?"
He tilted his head as his brows narrowed. He was growing curious about my questions. He raised a finger but turned it into a fist as he turned around.
"Horcruxes was created through murder." Was. Meaning it does exist because of someone, which answered my question. I wasn't sure if it existed at all, but Professor Snape believed I did.
"Does this thing hold a good amount of price? Or meaning, that it is created through murder?" I questioned.
"No," he spoke slowly, "it breaks your soul into immortality, Ms. Young. There is a reason that Horcruxes are so forbidden to be spoken about."
"Do these Horcruxes by any chance have anything to do with Volde — "
"I believe that is enough questions for today." He turned around, sitting back in his seat as he whipped his wand out — pointing toward a potion.
I nodded slightly as I turned around to head towards the door. "Also, do not go asking questions about Horcruxes, Ms. Young." I paused in my steps as I turned around. "Or people will think you're up to something."
He moved his wand, opening the door as I walked out. Forced out.
|
"I can't believe you're actually going to do that," Bonnie spoke as he stared completely terrified at Nott.
He had a huge platter of chicken legs in front of him as well as a first-year student, they were going to see who could eat the most in five minutes.
"It's barely nine o'clock and you're going to be stuffing your mouth with chicken legs?" She asked him as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"You're stating the obvious, Wright. Did you want a cookie?" He asked her as she opened her mouth to protest but intense rolled her eyes.
"I can't believe this is happening." I chuckled as I massaged my forehead. The lack of sleep was getting to me right now.
Looking down at my plate of food, I decided to eat some waffles. Same thing every morning, but it was the one thing I wouldn't get tired of. It is Margaritas and mine's favorite dish. I hope to see her soon.
I was still thinking about my conversation earlier with Professor Snape. A Horcrux was a dark object that contained your soul, it was one object — a singular thing that could've been the possible end to all of this.
Slowly as the months passed, I became more swept up with all of this. Potter and I aren't weren't close, and I wasn't his lapdog, he was capable of handling himself as I was.
Professor Snape assuming that I'd be chasing answers for him was obnoxious itself. I wanted to know for myself, I wanted to bring this to an end. Especially with my mother hovering over me at possibly changing schools due to safety reasons.
I wasn't going to let that happen. So if I have to help defeat a Dark Wizard, so be it. My friends were my family, the family I chose and there was no way I was going to leave them behind.
Theodore picked up his finger as he counted to three and their competition began. Both of them were filling their mouths up with pieces of chicken till there was nothing left on the bone.
Bonnie shook her head as she turned to face me. "I don't know how we're friends with that." I laughed almost as I shook my head.
"Didn't you have a liking for him in the first year?"
Her eyes widened as she gave me the look that he was right next to us. Her hand shook as she repeatedly signaled to never ever repeat that. It has been talked about multiple times.
"That never happened."
"But I remember the diary and everything — "
"That never happened in my books, we will never speak of that again, ever." She looked at me as a smile spread across my lips.
"I'll think about it."
The first-year student sneakily pulled his wand out as he pointed at the chicken legs on his platter. Whispering a spell that reduced the size of the food as he took all of it into his mouth.
I slightly gasped as Bonnie turned her head at my reaction. Theodore was still going through his food as he looked up. His jaw dropped as he blinked — very slowly.
"I won, you have to do my homework for the rest of the month." The first year stood up as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin.
"No — no, you cheated." Theodore wiped his hands as Bonnie sipped her tea. "That was cheating, you broke the rules." Theodore was offended that someone played his game better than him.
"What were the rules then?" The first year asked.
"The rules were — " Theodore paused as he recollected himself. "The rules were that," he paused again as he took another minute.
"Exactly, there were no rules." The first year stuck his tongue out. "You lost."
"You cheated." Theodore rolled his eyes out.
"Aren't you a fifth-year student, you're supposed to be smart?"
Theodore gasped. "What — I am smart."
"I don't care. I'll drop my homework off every morning at this exact spot for you." He was about to walk off as Theodore interrupted.
"I'm not doing it," Theodore said confidently as he moved the platter to the side.
"I'll tell Professor McGonagall."
"You fucker — "
The first-year left.
Bonnie blinked in complete hysterical as I tried to hold my laughter in. I mean it isn't every day that you'd see a fifth year lose to the first year.
Especially when it was Theodore Nott. He was a charming person, he would say the weirdest sentences at the wrong times, exceptionally hilarious according to him.
But he was smart, cunning, and indeed very loyal. He'd lack a little common sense, probably, but he was book smart in a way where he'd memorize everything along with it.
A photogenic memory. Can make you understand things in a way no way can. He had a different perspective, and it was refreshing.
" — I told you not to do it," Bonnie's voice cut into my thoughts as I looked up, "you could have used your wand, you are a wizard, and not to mention," she slapped his arm with the Daily Prophet, "a fifth year."
"Oh my god," he gasped as I grew confused, "I completely forget, I had completely forgotten I was a fifth-year student."
Bonnie's worried face twisted to aggravated on a scale from one to ten real quickly as she placed her books into her bag.
"I'm leaving."
"And I'm Theodore." He smiled.
"Merlin you're both aggravating," I said as I shook my head, placing the lace piece of waffle into my mouth and getting up. "Don't you have to go to your extra lessons with McGonagall, Theodore?"
"Oh — fuck," he cursed as he rushed quickly, "that was ten minutes ago."
He took his materials and literally vanished. Vanished.
"Well, he certainly knows how to make an exit." It was an unfamiliar voice interrupting us as I turned my head around.
She had her blonde strands of hair shaping her face as she gathered her books looking toward us. Bonnie glanced a look towards her as her eyes met mine.
"I apologize," she said as she stood tall, "my name is Amelia."
It's the girl from the library. Ah.
I stared at her for a second longer as her lips formed into a thin line as she waited for me to answer. I didn't realize I was staring at her till I shook my head and smiled.
"I'm Evelyn," I said as she nodded her head.
"Desirable," she said with an arch of her brow as I grew confused.
"Pardon me — "
"Your name means desirable, beautiful, and pleasant," she spoke as she pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder.
"If introductions are uh out of the way, might we get to class before we get detention," Bonnie chimed in with a smile at me as I nodded my head. "Oh, you're in Slytherin as well." She didn't ask her but it was more of an observation.
I was placing my books on top of each other as they continued their conversation.
"I thought I'd be in Hufflepuff instead if I'm being honest."
"Life can be full of surprises," I added as their heads turned towards me.
Bonnie cleared her throat. "Now let's leave before Professor Snape surprises us with detention."
I couldn't determine if getting lost in my thoughts was the best option at certain times or not. I liked being in my head and seeing the infinite possibilities of many things, the different outcomes of every interaction, it's like a continuous radio.
I enjoyed writing my thoughts sometimes, I felt writing them down allowed me to figure things out much easier. It's because you wrote and realized things that you couldn't piece earlier, or maybe the denial that finally uncovers.
I couldn't determine. So don't ask.
"Considering there are many assignments to be graded," Professor Snape spoke in a sleek tone as all attention was diverted towards him, "you will work on a simple Potion with your partner."
The voices grew immensely in the classroom as students began to pick out who'd they work with. Assumingly their friends. Professor Snape waited for a second longer as with the wave of his wand he shut one of the windows causing silence.
"I did not permit to speak in my classroom." He was dressed usually, in his dark clothes with a black cloak following along with him. "You will work on this Potion in silence, I will not hear a single word or as much as a whisper."
Looks were shared around the room as my eyes wandered to Amelia. Do I think she spoke to us because of the need to get to know Granger? I was curious because weirdly I had never paid attention to her presence, mainly because of why a Slytherin was interested in a Gryffindor.
Blaise didn't have a comment on Gryffindors, Theodore didn't care enough about anything that didn't revolve around him, as to Bonnie she was too focused on her career to give into a childish rivalry.
As to Malfoy, it entertained him, it was like a side hobby for him to take part in when he was bored. I couldn't decide whether he did things for his benefit or just out of true boredom.
One of the reasons why he was so determined on becoming a seeker was because of Potter. I had mainly thought that as well but seeing him playing on the field might have changed my perception a little, he was a good player. I'll say that.
I don't know why he has been in my thoughts for the last minute. Moving on.
"Ms. Young."
My mind was supposed to be on Amelia.
"Ms. Young."
"Professor." Professor Snape was calling on me and I was too busy thinking about someone I probably shouldn't even waste a second on.
"Since you've decided to finally join us, what are the effects of PolyJuice that we've been speaking about at the last minute?"
Receiving a glance from Malfoy as my eyes locked with him for a split second and every thought of him replayed in my eyes as I looked away.
I always studied the materials ahead of time. "PolyJuice Potions allows the human drinker to temporarily assume the form of another person — "
"Next time — "
" — and the side effects are that if a human attempts to transform into animals or part-humans, it will not reverse automatically."
He glared at me as a slight smile occurred on my lips. Moving his eyes from me as he turned around towards his desk.
"You will now begin working — "
The students began to gather along with their partners as the classroom broke into small whispers.
" — with assigned partners."
I'm pretty sure I heard someone gasp, and I hundred percent believe it was Theodore.
"I will only say your names once, and if you aren't with your assigned partner, you will serve detention." His eyes looked towards Weasley, Ron to be specific, as he was whispering something to Potter. "And if I were Mr. Weasley, I would definitely pay attention right now since you're clearly already lacking with your grades."
He immediately shut his mouth as he moved away silently.
"Now, Potter, you'll be with Mr. Nott, Ms. Granger you'll be assigned with Ms. Brooks." I don't know about anyone else but I sure did look up quickly. Neither party looked eager, nor excited, nor did they look like they'll try to poison each other.
"Mr. Weasley, you'll be with Ms. Wright." I watched as George and Bonnie paired up, the one pair that actually seemed happy? He continued to pair partners as my eyes moved between Amelia, and Granger.
It could be because she took a liking to her, possibly. I don't know why I was so concerned and overworking myself over this as I tried to block my thoughts out.
"Mr. Malfoy, you'll be assigned with Ms. Young."
Pardon me?
I don't know about others but we definitely looked at each other as if we'd tried to poison one another.
I had suddenly forgotten everything about Amelia and her interest in Granger as Malfoy placed his Potions books down on the marble table.
His fingers delicately stroked over the pages as he ran it over every sentence. Assuring the ingredients needed for the Potion as my eyes stared for a second too long — looking away.
"We need Lacewing flies — "
"Young, you don't need to tell me the ingredients, I know."
I stared at him for a second. "Let me get this straight for you, I have no interest in listening to your unnecessary rudeness. I was just listing the ingredients for reassurance."
"Lacewing flies, Leeches, bicorn hair — specifically in powdered form — Knotgrass, Fluxweed, and Boomslang skin, shredded."
"That wasn't so hard now was it?" A smile on my face that wasn't meant to be friendly but as in, one point for me, zero points for you.
I placed the ingredients onto the table as I aligned them according to the order stated in the books. This PolyJuice making was slightly harder than the original method.
PolyJuice requires a month of preparation. Such as Lacewing flies being stewed for twenty days prior to making the potion, and the fluxweed is picked during the full moon.
Knowingly that this potion takes time, Professor Snape surely had this planning for a while unlike suddenly.
"He gave each partner this small-time turner to hover over the potion, and which each step you move the — " and then I completely went silent. I was explaining the process and realized he would probably throw in a comment about how he didn't need the steps.
I didn't want to hear his infuriating voice of how he already knows. Well, then I'll say it again —
"Why did you stop talking?"
"What?"
His eyes turned towards me and I looked confused. Did he not know about this? That's a first. I was holding onto the knotgrass as I traced the bottle with my thumb.
"The time-turner?"
"Oh," I paused, "right," I mumbled, "it's temporary, so it'll be non-functional by the end of class. It'll help us complete the Potion within the hour for practice purposes."
He added three measures of fluxweed, his eyes peered over mine as mine did to this. I looked away adding two bundles of knotgrass into the cauldron.
"Did he mention how many times to turn the turner for the Potion?"
"He did, I assumed you already knew."
"Just for reassurance, witch."
I watched him stir the cauldron four times when the realization hit me. Witch? I must be hearing things.
"You turn it twice for every hour to pass — did you just call me, witch?" He waved his wand to let the Potion brew for eighty minutes. Then he turned the turner twice and a little more than a quarter forward.
"Yes, aren't you one, Young?"
I was writing all the steps of the Potion making onto a parchment to hand in after class to the Professor.
In between my writings, I paused and looked at him.
"I'm aware I'm one, don't ever call me witch again, it's an awful nickname." Being called a witch? I couldn't think of a worse nickname, and either way, I didn't like them. I'd rather the person say my name, much better.
"We can't have nicknames," I said, "people will think we're friends, and last I checked, we weren't."
"How will you ever survive?" Sarcasm in his tone as he continued the Potion making. Twirling the quill in my hand as I glanced his way, he added four leeches to the cauldron.
Lacewing flies were next, I reached out to grab the ingredient when he did as well. There was a sudden pause between us when we registered the fact that our hands grabbed the same bottle.
"I grabbed it first," I said.
"No," he said, pulling the bottle towards him.
"You can't just say no, give it to me." I pulled the bottle towards me.
"Let go of the bottle, Young."
"This is atrocious," I said as my grip hardened on the bottle.
"What a surprise, just like you, witch."
We took each other in for a second as I immediately withdrew my hand and began writing with my quill. My eyes were completely down as I retraced some of the already written words for — reassurance.
"If you bodge this Potion, it's completely on you, do not screw it up." He was good at Potions, extremely good, some would say, feeding his unnecessary ego.
"I won't, and you know that, witch."
"Don't call me that."
"Or what?"
"Or I'll — "
"A little less talking," Professor Snape said as heads turned in his direction, "and a little more Potion making. Although your papers delivered at the end of class will surely confirm."
Professor Snape was speaking but Malfoy's eyes were on mine the entire time. He was still awaiting an answer.
My fingers twisted around the quill in my head as I traced the corner of the parchment as his eyes searched mine.
"Or what, Young?" He asked with such curiosity. He took a step towards me as my throat was restricted as if it blocked me from uttering a word at all as he leaned down. "Or what, witch?"
I gulped uncomfortably as I leaned forward. "Or I'll purposely screw up the paper when I hand it in, just to watch you clean Potion bottles for an hour straight in detention."
He watched the words come out of my mouth as his head tilted, a slight smile that threw me off. He seemed weirdly contemptuous as he turned back to the cauldron.
My breath felt knocked off as I took a deep breath in. Twisting the quill between the tips of my finger as I wrote down the next steps watching him carefully.
Witch? What a pathetic name, and why on earth would he possibly consider that a nickname? Every time he says it while looking at me, it vexes me.
He vexes me.
|
"A secret Defense Against the Dark Arts meeting?" Bonnie asked as I shook my head. It was a Saturday, meaning a free day to be allowed to visit Hogsmeade.
Standing in Hog's Head as students walked in, mainly Gryffindor, but some from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff as well.
"Granger passed me a note after Potions class from yesterday. They thought it'd be a good idea to meet up here. Especially away from the Inquisitorial Squad roaming the halls like Prefects."
"Theodore joined the Inquisitorial Squad so he'd let people get away from doing whatever they were. He called it a side hobby." I chuckled at Bonnie's words as she shook her head in disappointment.
"Well, that definitely sounds like something he would do. I'm hoping this meeting goes as Granger planned."
Taking a sip of my Butterbeer as I watched the room fill up with people. People were pulling out chairs as they took seats, forming a semi-circle around Harry, Granger, and Weasley.
While they looked tempted, Luna LunaLovegood was dreaming into space with curiosity.
George Weasley couldn't take his eyes off Bonnie.
Granger passed a look around the crowd as she got up from her seat, fiddling with her fingers. "Erm, hi."
While she was speaking, the group was supposed to focus on her, but their eyes kept darting toward Harry.
"So, you all know why we're here, we need a teacher." She didn't seem confident in her speech as she spoke nervously, looking around as she stumbled through her words. "A proper teacher."
Just as she spoke, the door opened and Amelia took a step in as my attention automatically reversed towards her.
Bonnie gave me a small look as I shrugged my shoulders. Amelia loosened the scarf around her neck to give herself breathing air as her eyes met Granger.
"We need a teacher who has real experience defending himself from Defense Against the Dark Arts." Her voice automatically grew confident.
"Why?" Michael Corner asked.
"Why?" Rom questioned him with aggression in his voice. "Because You-Know-Who's back, you tosspot."
"So he says." A blond Hufflepuff spoke up from the back as all eyes diverted towards him.
"So Dumbledore says," Granger added.
"So Dumbledore says because he says."
"And you are?" Ron asked rather rudely.
"Zacharias Smith," the boy said, "and I think we've all got the right to question it and to know exactly what happened. We want to see proof, wouldn't you?"
Harry looked disappointed, upset as a matter of fact as he looked down twisting the ring on his index finger.
"If only Potter could tell us more about how Diggory got killed." Michal Corner stared at Potter rather aggravatedly.
"I'm not here to talk about Cedric, so if you're here to talk about that. You might as well clear out now." He was upset, you could tell. He turned towards Granger, whispering something as she looked around.
"Is it true you can produce a Patronus Charm?" I asked as every eye from the crowd turned around. My eyes were stuck on him as I encouraged him.
If you give them confidence and courage, they will listen. Legilimency.
"Yes," Hermione added for him, "I've seen it."
"Blimey Harry," Dean said, "didn't know you could do that."
"And the Basilisk, in Dumbledore's office," Neville shared, "he saved the Philological stone — "
"Philosopher," Granger corrected him.
"And that was during our first year."
"As well as the Triwizard Tournament," Cho said and Harry's eyes were as round as galleons, "the dragons, the merpeople, and Actromantula, and so much more."
A murmur roared through the crowd as whispers grew louder around the table. Harry was squirming, trying to rearrange his thoughts, he didn't look pleased.
"He also fought a hundred dementors at — "
"Wait," Harry suddenly spoke as Ron was cut off, "it all sounds great when you say it like that. And — and I don't want to sound modest or anything, but I had help with all that stuff."
"Not with the dragons," Lovegood shared.
"Well — uh," he stammered.
"And those dementors this summer," Angelina said.
"Okay I did some things without a little help, but the point I'm trying to make is — "
"Maybe you're just trying to weasel your way out of showing us this stuff." Zacharias Smith chuckled.
"I have an idea," Ron smiled, "why don't you shut your mouth?"
"Facing this stuff in real life is not like school. In school if you make a mistake you can just try again tomorrow but out the — out there where you're a second from being murdered," he took a deep breath, "or watching your friend die right before your eyes, you don't know what that's like."
"You're right," Bonnie said as my head snapped towards her. She wasn't a public speaker, she wasn't a fan of crowds or liked talking to huge groups, "we don't know. This is why I — we believe that we need someone to teach us what to do. Because I wouldn't wish it upon any of us — "
"Aren't you a Slytherin?" Zacharias Smith disrupted her.
"And?" Amelia added, "what does that have to do with anything?"
"Slytherin's are all bad, including all of you," he said, pointing at the three of us.
"Hmm," Amelia said, "Theodore Nott just joined the Inquisitorial Squad to allow people to get away with breaking Umbridge's rules without punishment. Blaise Zabini is a Prefect that has been giving extra points to all houses that lost it due to Umbridge and her pets."
"And?" He demanded.
She smiled. "Evelyn Young reversed all the Potter Stinks badges during the fourth year, and as I recall, half of you here were wearing them, were you not?"
He looked displeased.
"And Bonnie just stood up for Potter because she knows he's the right person to lead the group — so, tell me, Smith, what are you trying to say? Are you lacking common sense, or just naturally blond?"
Fred and George chuckled as Granger smiled. Potter looked the same as he searched through the crowd's emotions.
"He's really back, isn't he?" Colin asked as Harry nodded his head.
One by one, people went up and wrote their names on the Parchment. Everyone signed their names and joined the group that was yet to be named. "Are you feeling alright?"
Bonnie nodded her head. "I still don't like big crowds but doing that felt nice. Although I have the biggest urge to punch Zacharias Smith across the face."
I smiled as I signed my name off onto the parchment. It was an uncanny feeling. "I'll be right back."
Stepping outside of Hogs Head, there was a cold breeze passing as I crossed my arms. It was snowing, white snow falling from the sky as it hit the ground.
I didn't like the winter, mostly because of how cold it would get. But watching the snowfall in December while drinking hot chocolate was something that was always worth doing.
I was walking through the snow as a cold breeze came in, completely blocking my eyesight as particles of what I'm guessing is snow went into my eye. The reminder of why I despised winter.
Walking half blinded as I bumped into someone. "Oh — I am so sorry," I apologized. Turning from the opposite direction of the wind as I cleared my view.
"Are you all right?" He asked as I was still facing the other direction.
"Yeah — yeah," I lied as I blinked my eyes continuously. "I'm fine, I think."
"Do you want to go inside the Quill shop?" He asked if I blinked hard but my eyesight wouldn't clear up. My eyes watered up quickly.
"Uh — yes, yes." He rested his hand on my shoulder as we walked into the shop. Hearing the bell ring as we opened the door.
"How can I help you kids — oh my," the owner, Scrivenshalf said.
"May we have a couple of napkins, please?" The boy asked as I tried to recall if I knew his voice. He didn't sound familiar. "Here."
It was warmer in here as I wiped my teary eyes, waiting a couple of seconds as I blinked continuously. "I'm sorry." I turned around, he was tall, with pretty blue eyes and raven hair. "I — sorry, thank you for this."
I held up the napkin as he smiled. He had a cute smile and dimples. "No need to apologize, I insist. Are your eyes alright now?"
I was staring at his eyes for a little too long as I blinked and looked away. "Yes, yes they are. The breeze was too sharp outside. I wasn't expecting it."
"When they said the Hogwarts scenery was to die for during the winter, I didn't think they meant it literally." I chuckled, and his dimples were showing again. Dimples.
"Do you attend Hogwarts, because I could swear I've never seen you around? Unless I haven't been paying attention." I wondered how someone like him never caught my eye before.
"I'm a transfer," he said quickly, "so I decided to look around Hogsmeade today. Definitely glad that I did." He looked at me as my fingers traced over the napkin anxiously.
His eyes were so bright that even if I wanted to stare, I couldn't. I looked away as my eyes bore around the quill shop. "What made you transfer?"
"Change in the scenery."
I looked up at him, mainly there were reasons why someone was transferring, whether it was academics, violations, or moving from one place to another.
"Is that the only reason?" I asked with curiosity as his brow arched and o looked away. Looking around the shop as my eyes peered over the new quills.
"For now," he said, "what about you?"
"I've been attending Hogwarts since my first year," I said too quickly, "it's decent, nice professors, except one."
"And who would that be?"
"Professor Umbridge, you'd recognize exactly who she is without me saying anything at all. I can assure you."
"And I'll take your word for it," he said with a small smile. He watched me trace my fingers over the new items, I had a thing for stationery.
"I completely forgot," I said as I turned around, "I never caught your name unless you told me and I was too busy trying to see."
"I didn't tell you," he said as for a second I thought he wouldn't tell me at all, "I'm Zeke."
"Interesting," I said, "I'm Young, Evelyn Young."
"It's nice to make your acquaintance, Evelyn. I'm glad to know I'll be going to Hogwarts with a friend."
"So is that what I am now? A friend?" I asked as the dimples appeared again.
"For now," he said, and I fought the urge to question it further.
|
It was in the middle of the night.
I couldn't sleep at all.
So I decided to head downstairs towards the common room, a walk, anything to get my mind to shut off because it felt like it was going to burst in the next second.
Granger had explained to me before she headed towards her common room. A group was starting to help us practice the Dark Arts. She had underlined and highlighted every piece of information like it was a project.
My mind kept zoning back to Zeke at moments. Transferring to Hogwarts for a new scenery? Being a friend for now? It was confusing. I need to stop thinking.
Nicely enough the PolyJuice Potion went smoothly with Malfoy and neither of us ended in detention. My head wouldn't stop thinking about how he looked at me and kept asking me until I answered. Stop.
I took a seat in the common room cushion chair. Taking a book into my hand, it was my favorite one. It was about this girl who fell in love with someone she never thought she would, but when she does, her memory is erased. I read as they fell in love again just for one of them to die.
It was a book that was meant to break your heart. But there was something about sad romances that my heart lurched around it. It felt realistic.
"Why is it that wherever I go, you're there." My head turned as I watched him pour himself a drink, his glass full as he brought it to his lips.
"Maybe you're there at times that I am, you chose the wrong time to drink. It's not always the other person's fault you know? Oh wait, you don't." I turned my head back to my book as I heard a chuckle. Did he laugh?
"Did you decide to bathe in alcohol tonight?" I asked with curiosity as I sat on the cushioned chair, moving the book to my lap. "I can smell you from across the room, I wouldn't recommend doing it again."
He watched me from the opposite side of the room as his head tilted looking over at me. I glanced at him quietly for a second as he sipped his drink.
He was tall, his strides were longer when he began walking over to me so quickly yet so slowly. I watched him, walking drowsily — wearing a loose full-sleeved sweater.
I pushed my book down as he drew near and I stumbled to find a word. He grew closer, right in front of me as I grew confused.
He leaned down to me as he placed his hands on both sides of the chair. I looked at both of his hands before I looked up again. My body felt like it froze as he leaned down to me.
His hands gripped the arms of the chair as his eyes explored the details of my face. I felt as if my breath was stuck in my throat and I didn't like the feeling. I didn't like that the feeling was caused because of him.
"What am I drinking exactly then, witch?" He asked me and for a second my thoughts were snapping like a photographer clicking pictures too quickly. "Tell me, hmm?" His head tilted as he watched me, his grey eyes admiring my face when my chest felt heavy.
"It — it smells like whiskey." My stomach felt like it was clenching as his presence grew closer or maybe it didn't and every hair on my body felt like I was on top of a burning fire.
His face grew near, closer as the back of my head pressed against the chair so I'd grow further away from him.
His lips moved into a slight smirk? His eyes darted down to my lips as my body felt like it couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't process as my breath felt stolen. "Would you like to taste it to know if your answer is correct?"
My eyes felt glued to the smirk on his lips as I forced myself to look up at him. "What?" My words felt like they were stumbling as I watched his eyes watch over every single expression on my face — to the reaction my body felt to his closeness. No — absolutely not. This is absolutely disgusting. My thoughts were unfiltered as his closeness felt like a piece of a puzzle in my head.
Leaning back to the chair so he felt further away as he leaned closer, his hands moving down on the arms of the chair as I gripped onto the edge of the book in my lap. Holding onto it as if it were my sanity. His hand came up and for a moment I thought he might caress my cheek — he wouldn't kiss — he would not. I won't let him.
His hand came behind the chair, grabbing a glass of whiskey as he brought it in front of my face. "Do you want to taste it to know if you're correct, witch?"
"I don't need to taste it knowing it's whiskey." He did that smirk again. Stop doing that. "Why do you keep calling me that? Witch?"
He took a sip of the drink, swallowing it as my eyes went down his throat. Stop — no. Look up. "Because you hate it, and I like that you hate it."
Typical of him.
He was still leaning down towards me as my eyes fought the urge to study every single one of his features. He was drunk, that was obvious. I happened to be down here.
Just a coincidence. A small coincidence.
"I think you've had too much to drink," I said as I held onto the book on my lap, "you should go to your room." He looked entertained if anything.
"It's a night to celebrate, we should celebrate," he said enthusiastically as I grew confused.
"It's a Saturday night, Malfoy," I said as he looked at me with confusion and then looked down at his hands.
His eyes moved to the book in my lap as he studied it with curiosity. Tilting his head as he grabbed the book, the tips of his fingers brushing against my thigh.
"I didn't take you for the type to read dark romance," he said, "you seemed the type to like the happy ones, where it's all rainbows."
"I don't like reading unrealistic books," I said as I reached for the book from his hand. He drew the book further away as my face grew closer to his. "We're not doing this."
"Are we not?" He asked with a smile, I've never seen him smile like that. My heart felt as if it was racing miles and it wasn't going to stop anytime soon. "Have a drink with me," he said as I rolled my eyes, "just one."
I liked eyes. I love them. There was something about how his eyes would watch you. Like a real-life siren where you'd be told not to look them in the eye, but you couldn't help it, beautifully manipulative.
"I'm only agreeing because I could use a drink and because I want that book back." I felt the need to justify why I chose to stay here.
"You could've said yes," he said, handing me a drink, "and I wouldn't have questioned it."
He clicked his drink against mine as he brought it to his lips. I watched him for a minute, maybe longer as I brought the drink to my lips.
I've seen him drink a couple of times during house parties but never like this. The thing about moments like these is that it makes you curious. And curiosity was my best friend.
Curiosity draws me on and it's them that keeps me there.
"You look like you're having the most horrible time in your life and it makes me feel like a bad entertainer — and I'm a really good entertainer, witch."
I took another sip of my drink as I looked at him. The more our eyes met, the more it felt like the air grew thicker and I hated it. I was supposed to sit here and read this book in peace, but instead, I'm having a drink with the devil.
"I'll have a good time if you stop calling me that."
"I'll have to think about that," he said. He was wearing a navy-colored sweater, it was oversized on him but it complimented his eyes well. His hair was ruffled but looked soft.
He was leaning against the wall as he sipped his drink but his eyes were glancing at me and I couldn't sit through it any longer.
"I think I'm going to take my leave now," I said as I placed the drink onto the table, "I'll retrieve the book tomorrow when you're yourself." I glanced his way once more before turning around.
As I'm walking away, his hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me back as my face turns. "What — "
"Don't leave yet," he said, there was a small plea in his eyes but mine only grew confused. The sound of crackling fire and silence grew weary. "Stay."
"I'm not here to entertain you, Malfoy." I attempted to twist my wrist from his hand as he held it to his chest. "What on earth are you doing?"
"My mother used to like dancing," he said, "she used to host balls when she was upset to cheer her up." I think when he started talking about his mother is when I stopped trying to retrieve my wrist from his hand.
He held my wrist to his chest, I could feel his heart beating fast. I could feel his heart beating through my hand as it felt like his best was coursing through my veins and my heart felt it too.
"Used to?" I asked as he blinked. I could feel his body weight leaning towards me. He was drowsy and drank his way through more bottles than I can count. "Does she not anymore?"
"She can't," he said, his thumb gracing the back of my hand as chills formed across my arm, "she can't because she's — she is — she's — "
"You don't owe me an explanation," I said, "I'm sure Mrs. Malfoy will host one again." I wasn't well with grief at all, I didn't know what to do, things to say, how to cope with it, or explain it overall. It was my weak spot, all I could do was offer comfort and words of affirmation.
"She had hair like yours," he said, his eyes pointing towards my curls, raven-colored, "I remember when I was little — but that's not the point because — "
"I think you should get some rest, Malfoy, considering you're utterly drunk and half unconscious." And saying things he would never while conscious, and I fear he'll say something that will keep me curious.
His brows knitted together, almost as if he was pouting and it felt like — I don't know.
His hand around my wrist, his soft skin, and the graze of his thumb made me shudder. He looked at me for a second longer as he pulled me towards him.
"I think I should go." I didn't want to become one of his playthings. These were his tactics, looking at them with his pretty eyes, saying vulnerable things to pull them towards him, and then throwing them away after fucking them.
I have stayed long enough. This was the limit.
"Goodnight," he said, patting my hand, "witch."
I opened my mouth to protest but he turned around, grabbing his glass of alcohol as he stumbled towards the boy's dormitory.
I wandered into my thoughts for a second longer as my eyes moved towards the couch, he left my book there. There was a sense of relief as I grabbed it quickly.
Tracing the corners of the book as I stood in the common room for a second longer. His words, his eyes, and his unbearable presence lingered in my head.
There was a small sense of concern like any normal human being would.
And with that, I started writing a letter to my mama about Mrs. Malfoy's health.
Curiosity.
—