"No." Avril pursed her nude tinted lips in disapproval as she observed Animo's attire. "That's something my grandmother would wear. And believe me," she raised a darkened brow. "Not a compliment."
Tugging at her high collar, Animo gave her reflection a sigh. The black cotton dress seemed more like funeral wear than anything remotely fit for a party. But it was the only thing she had been able to beg from the Room of Requirement. Apparently, specular formal attire wasn't part of its magical provisions.
Avril waved her wand at Animo's map, brightening the dark room. "Stand back," she scanned Animo's form critically, "and close your eyes."
Obeying, Animo shifted her stance hesitantly, outstretching her arms. The air chilled her bare arms as Avril muttered a series of fabric adjustment charms, shorting her sleeves significantly. Or perhaps she had removed them altogether. Animo cracked open an eye to check.
"Don't!" Avril snapped immediately, observant as always. "I'm your fairy mother, or whatever the muggles call it."
The image of Avril in a sparkly periwinkle tutu paired with her usual frown blossomed in Animo's mind and she barely suppressed a snort. "Fairy godmother?"
"Hmm," Avril hummed in response while she tugged at Avril's neckline. "We can definitely go a bit lower."
Feeling herself flush, Animo tried to bat the girl's hands away blindly, "Avril! This party is still at the school."
Avril's hands were firm as she yanked Animo's arms away from her newly exposed collarbone. "Please. The amount of alcohol Slughorn allows at these things breaks at least a dozen school rules. I would kill to wear something like this." There was a sudden rush of air as Animo heard the Slytherin step backwards, doing a final survey of her adjustments. "Except my family would accuse me of being.. free with my body. Time to protest the ridiculous chauvinistic notions of this world." There was a sharp clap as Avril urged her to open her eyes.
Blinking her gaze, Animo's mouth fell open at her reflection in the mirror. The halter dress was clad so tightly to her figure, her ribs could barely expand to breathe properly. Emerald velvet slunk just above her knees while a silver armlet spiraled up her right bicep, ending in the head of a serpent. She patted her hair gingerly, which was slicked back about her skull and hung in a straight wave past her shoulders. "I'm not sure I scream 'Slytherin' quite enough," she murmured teasingly, scanning her brown gaze. It was becoming more difficult to remember the violet of her true orbs after so many months of keeping it hidden.
"Our house could use a little more pride," Avril shrugged, adjusting the waist of her own ballgown, which hung in an A-line to the floor. "Never let the other houses forget that Slytherins dominate the school," she flashed a wicked smile while she tossed a scarlet tube towards Animo. "Just need a bit of lip and it'll all come together."
Pursing her lips, Animo spread the crimson colour evenly, unsure if she was applying it right. Makeup had not exactly been Albus's area of expertise, although he did posses a much better fashion taste than she ever did. Still, growing up in hiding had been without the usual rites of passage.
"Let me see," Avril walked over, the golden sequins of her dress casting a reflection of lights against the stone wall. Her satin green heels made her nearly equal to Animo's height. "Perfection," she grinned, "I'm supposed to meet Alphard near the entrance to the Great Hall.
Animo laughed, following the girl down the stairs and into the common room. "After he finally mustered the courage to ask you! Only took Lyall threatening to snatch you up."
"Right," Avril rolled her eyes, pushing past the gap between the stone wall that led into the dungeons. "One, he's two years older than I am. And two, he's a Gryffindor." The disgust creased her made-up face, taking away from her proper air. "Would never happen."
Pulling at the hem of her dress and desperately hoping it wouldn't ride up too badly, Animo sent a final wave in Avril's direction before she took the staircase that led just slightly out of the dungeons. To no one's surprise, Slughorn had little interest in living down in the drafty passageways along with his students.
Even if Animo had not know the passages the way that she did, it would have been easy to find Slughorn's office with the level of raucous laughter and music that tinkered towards her. Checking once more to make sure the marks on her arms were properly concealed, Animo approached Slughorn's door. To her amusement, Lyall and Dominic stood guard, Lyall's hair slicked backwards in what she could only imagine was his interpretation of a butler.
"Ma'—" Lyall's eyes widened as he recognized Animo's form, looking rather comical in an overly large tuxedo. "Bloody hell, Annie. You're a knockout."
Flushing a bright red, Animo dipped into a mock curtsey, careful to not trip over her ankles. "Thank you, good sir," she paused, lingering on their stoic position by the doorway. "Is there some sort of keyword to get in?"
"No," Lyall seemed uncharacteristically awkward as he tore his eyes from her legs, jerking his head back towards the inside of the party. "This was the only way I could convince Sluggy to let us come." A flicker of dislike flashed in his hazel gaze, "think he enjoyed humiliating us, honestly."
Dominic grunted in response, although his head was tilted firmly towards the inside of the room. His suit was much better tailored than his mate's.
Lyall just shook his head. "Needless to say, Dom came to watch over Cilla. She was invited of course, brilliant bird, and Dom wants to make sure no one touches his property."
Wincing at the masculine wording, Animo shook her head with amusement. "You've got a reputation, Dominic, I doubt anyone challenges you lest they end up on the wrong side of a Beater bat."
"What about me?" Lyall was indignant as he shook his head, sending several gelled strands sliding out of place. "I'm terrifying."
"Quite," Animo laughed, sliding between them as she entered the party.
"SAVE ME A DANCE!"
Lyall's call was nearly enveloped by the loud chatter and brassy tunes echoing inside the rather small study. Animo instantly felt overwhelmed with the assault on her senses, trying not to shrink back as a second year tottered by with a silver tray of refreshments. As much as she had dreamed about seeing the world, she hadn't anticipated how anxiety-inducing it was to "mingle." Smiling awkwardly as she passed by a group of Ravenclaws, Animo grabbed a champagne flute to keep her hands occupied as she searched for Alphard and Avril. If the pair had left her here she would—
"Ah, Miss Wallis!" Slughorn's voice boomed from the left corner as he waved an arm for emphasis. His suitcoat was a deep forest green, paired with a scarlet and yellow bow tie that didn't exactly match, but somehow fit his eccentric personality. Several students surrounded him, but they were clearly eager to leave the man's boisterous presence and Animo felt a stab of anger as two slunk off in the opposite direction. Certainly, the professor was meddlesome, but he had a genuine enthusiasm that many lacked.
"Miss Wallis," Slughorn repeated, causing Animo to jerk from her thoughts. The professor glanced at her dress, raising a surprised brow, "a bit modern for these times, dear, but you know what I say!" He raised a crystal glass that was formed in the shape of a slug. Animo was sure it had been a gift from some 'remarkable' student. "Testing the limits is a sure sign of ingenuity!"
He clinked his glass against Animo's, chuckling as they both took a sip. His was more like a long swallow and Animo tried to inconspicuously check how much whiskey was left in the bottle. To her embarrassment, Slughorn caught her glance. "Ah, you worry I will lose my senses!" Slughorn waved his cup vivaciously, his eyes gleaming. "Though I do prefer a nice mead, this will do." He leaned towards her conspiratorially, "I'm afraid I rather need a little something to get through these events."
A frown furrowed Animo's forehead. "But professor, why do you hold them?"
The man's expression grew a tad more solemn as he leaned on the tapestry behind him. The woven threads crumpled together under his touch. "Why does anyone? To fill the lonely void, I suppose." Suddenly, a red-haired Hufflepuff passed between them, nearly tripping over Animo's foot. "Ah! Miss Abbott!"
Animo watched as Slughorn turned away, eager to discuss his latest discovery. At least this girl seemed as though she would treat him respectfully, a wide smile breaking her face as Slughorn began to describe some sort of new plant sap.
Turning away, Animo began to wonder whether she should just return to her dormitory. There was nothing more painful than being in a room full of people that didn't give you a second glance.
She caught the lustful gaze of a Gryffindor sixth year and quickly turned away, pulling the hem of her dress down once more. Or perhaps too many glances.
Heading towards the door, Animo slid past a group of giggling girls, who immediately began to whisper as she darted through. Freedom was a meter in sight and Animo felt herself relax as she approached the exit, aching to be rid of the stifling heat.
"Hold on now, An," Lyall stuck out an arm, a think barrier to her escape. Animo narrowly resisted the urge to shove past the Gryffindor and glanced up with a pleading expression. "I don't think so," whatever charm Lyall had used to slick his hair had worn off, letting his amber strands fall natural about his ears. "You don't come looking like that," he flickered a gaze towards her dress, "and leave early."
The murmur of the students was growing louder behind her and Animo knew her narrow route of exit was rapidly closing. Soon, there would be too many to squeeze past. Crossing her arms over her chest, Animo pressed her lips together. "And what exactly should I do? Stand on the table and strike a pose?"
"I wouldn't mind—Ow!" Lyall ducked as Animo aimed another slap at his shoulder, her nails extended. "Bloody hell, Wallis." Keeping his arm raised for protection, the Gryffindor raised a challenging brow, "we never got a proper dance at the Halloween Ball."
At his words, the band slowed to a stately march, the brassy sounds nearly mournful in the decorated drawing room. Animo cringed at the minor keys. "I don't fancy dancing to this. Besides," she tapped her toes, "I've never danced in front of others before. The Halloween swaying does NOT count," Animo added, quickly interceding Lyall's interjection.
A Cheshire grin spread across the Gryffindor's face as he pulled the lapels of his satin suit tighter. "Oh, Annie, that's not what I had in mind." He turned away, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Animo standing rather awkwardly by herself.
Adjusting her stance, Animo began to wonder if she might as well run for it. Whenever Lyall got that gleam in his eye, it was a signal to find the best cover one could. Then, the beat of the band completely changed into a lively two-step, the tuba bouncing low notes that resounded off the walls, shaking the emerald tapestries.
A tap on her shoulder startled Animo from her thoughts and she spun around to see Lyall with his hand outstretched, a quirk to his left lip.
"Join me?"
Staring at his callused hand, Animo briefly considered her options. However, there was a time not so long ago that she promised herself that she would be free someday. And then, she would jump at every adventure. Going against her nature, Animo placed her hand warily in Lyall's grasp. "And what exactly will we be doing?"
Lyall pulled her towards the center of the tiled floor, which most of the students were deliberately avoiding. "Bringing down the castle."
At the first beat, Lyall swung Animo out, letting the skirt of her dress flair slightly into an emerald ripple before retrieving her back into his side and placing his right hand on her waist. Animo shivered slightly at the touch, all to aware of how close their bodies were. The murmurs beside them began to die as more partiers started to pay attention to the odd pairing.
Then, Lyall dipped forward, leading her into a series of quick steps at a right angle, all the while keeping his fingers on her waist to help guide her. Animo moved stiffly, letting the rhythm of his body flow into hers.
"Annie," Lyall's breath was warm on her ear. "Let go."
Closing her eyes briefly, Animo tried to pretend that they were alone. That there wasn't a Walburga or Lucretia Black just waiting for her to misstep. She found the backbeat, using it to push off into a spin that landed her several meters away from Lyall before she sashayed forward into a quick step.
A few whistles accompanied her movements as she shot Lyall a slight grin, motioning for him to continue. Seeming to need little invitation, Lyall grabbed her arm and paraded her forward in a mock line, making light of the high society move. Pulling away, Animo shook her head and raised her arms above her neck, gliding them along her throat before swinging her wrists into the air. A cheer went up as Lyall did an odd sort of tap number, his dark soles creating a series of fast-paced clicks on the ground.
Laughter burst from Animo's mouth. "What style are we doing, Lyall?"
"You need to be more spontaneous!" the Gryffindor returned as the music rose to a crescendo. Wrapping a muscled arm about her waist, he tilted them both into a tight spin and pulled her closer until they were a breaths width apart.
For a moment, time seemed to still and Animo swore she could count each eyelash on the boy's face. Then, he had let go of her and she used the momentum to spin into the crowd, students dodging out of her path as she did.
Finally, Animo caught the glimpse of Avril's golden dress and she angled herself in that direction, feeling rather dizzy.
The younger Slytherin caught her forearms, looking a mix of bemused and impressed. "Maybe you should go join one of the London clubs, Annie!"
Not responding, Animo simply smiled and grabbed the girl's wrist, pulling her towards the floor.
"No!" Avril struggled uselessly, her dark skin paling ever so slightly, "Annie I—"
Animo stopped in the center, motioning for Avril to sway her hips to the beat. "I know you can move, Av," she twirled the girl in a spin, "tell me those pureblood lessons didn't count for anything."
Following the steps half-heartedly, Avril pursed her lips tightly until they were nearly nonexistent. "This isn't exactly proper."
"You've spent your whole life trying to live up to your family's image," Animo lined herself up back to back to Avril as they slid closer, doing a series of grape vines in tandem, "don't you ever want to prove them wrong?"
Her challenge seemed to finally dislodge the worries that weighed Avril's posture and the girl shot her a menacing smile as she sank closer to the floor with the rhythm, causing a few gasps from the crowd while she flipped back her hair.
There was a sudden surge from the students as couples began to pour on the dance floor, creating their own versions of Avril and Animo's movements, although many were certainly offbeat. Animo broke away as she saw Alphard make a beeline for Avril, his eyes wide in admiration. The swarm of people was an excellent cover as Animo was finally able to make her exit, Lyall lost somewhere amongst his adoring fans.
Leaning against the cold stone of the wall outside Slughorn's quarters, Animo puffed out a long breath, letting the more distant pounding of the music soothe her nerves. Perhaps large gatherings would never be her most comfortable.
"You put on quite a show."
Animo jumped forwards, her gaze springing open as Tom emerged from the shadows, the glare of the moonlight from the window behind him illuminating his tightly coiled curls. The heir of Slytherin was certainly dressed for the occasion, donning a dark satin suit paired with emerald cufflinks that glistened as he moved to straighten his tie.
"Although," Tom poised his words carefully, his expression as neutral as ever, "I do wonder if some of those more modern moves were of your own invention." There was no mistaking the bite in his words.
Taking a few steps closer, Animo leaned against the pane of the window, trying not to show how the cold glass burned her bare skin. She had been preparing for this moment, but as Tom's silence continued, she began to hope that he wouldn't question her at all. Breathing in a deep breath, she tried to clear the headiness of the party from her mind. "Yes, that would be true." Her tone grew rueful as she made contact with his dark gaze, "though I taught myself from books, I'm afraid."
Tom snorted, his nostrils flaring while he settled into a more comfortable stance. "Baby Wallis teaching herself to dance from books. Why am I not surprised?"
"Says the avid swot," Animo retorted, tilting her chin to look out the window and onto the shadowed grounds.
"Is Wallis even your real name?"
The question was blunt and direct, like an arrow eager to pierce its bullseye. "No," Animo replied honestly, gazing back at Tom, who didn't seem surprised. "And I'm afraid I can't tell you what it is. But Annie is close enough really."
"I could make you show me."
His threat was cold and though the words unflinching, there was a sort of resolve in Tom's expression that told Animo the promise was only half-hearted. A last attempt to get her to speak.
"How?" Animo took another step forward, only a meter between them now. Tom leaned back ever so slightly, seeming uncomfortable at her persistence. "Legilmency won't work." She sent him a teasing smile, "you've already failed at that."
"I did not fai—" Tom cut off his growl at the victorious light in her eyes, his brow narrowing. "I want answers. Now. Or I will report you to Headmaster Dippet."
Now this threat was real. The statement hung in the air between them like the edge of a sword, invisible, but all the more dangerous. Animo slipped off her aching shoes, running her fingers over her tender skin as she nodded towards one of the doors that lead out into the courtyard. "You could have just asked, you know."
Scowling darkly, Tom led the way outside, unlocking the iron handle of the door without his wand. The night air as freezing and Animo instantly began to shiver violently, wishing that she had at least thought to bring a cloak. Then, a bundle of robes was tossed in her direction, making impact with her chest harshly. She eyed the material warily, recognizing the smell of Tom's cologne.
"These won't strangle me to death or something will they?"
"Don't be an idiot," Tom snapped while stopping right behind one of the stone pillars. If anyone was watching from inside, they would blend perfectly into the shadows. "One, I still need information from you. Two," his tone smoothed, oozing with arrogance, "I wouldn't want to hurt one of my followers, would I?"
It was Animo's turn to shoot him a dark glare while she pulled on the robes, stuffing her fists into the pockets. "Right. I'm sure your 'followers' would agree that their time with you is painless." She didn't mention that she had been a spy. Gaining Tom's trust would be much more difficult if he had known she was once a traitor. "What do you want to know?" she ran a hand through her locks, trying to separate the gelled clumps.
"Everything." Tom's gaze sharpened, a thirst flaring in his eyes while he leaned forward, spearmint lacing his breath. "How do I ascend to power? Do I conquer the wizarding world?" His lip curled while he suddenly drew back. "And how in Merlin's name did I let you be part of it? Surely, I would never allow bloodtraitors among my ranks."
Drawing the robes closer around her neck, Animo scanned the velvet carpet of stars above them while she tried to buy herself time. The glowing orbs didn't seem to hold an answer, only flickering faintly to remind her that she wasn't alone. "You didn't conquer the wizarding world." Tom's form shrank back visibly. "Yes, you did gain great power, but at great cost. You will be a shell of what you are now, Tom," Animo turned back, her gaze passionate, "and you have not conquered death."
"Impossible," Tom spat, stalking forward so that he had her pinned in front of the pillar, his wide stance stopping any chance of escape. "How far are you from? Ten years? That is sufficient—"
"Try fifty." The boy staggered at Animo's response, his face paling at the number. Animo shook her head, reaching out a hand and letting it hang in the air. A silent offer. "Tom, the future I know is already changing. I don't know what happened when I used the Time Turner, but there is a reason the Ministry regulates them so heavily. So, even if I told you everything that happened, the future is no longer what was."
There was a loud crash as Tom whipped out his arm, sending a suit of armor crumpling to the ground in a twisted heap of iron. "I could ensure it went according to plan," the boy hissed out the words in a single stream, advancing on Animo until she could see his chest rise with every breath. "There is nothing, nothing I can't control."
"There are very few things you can control, Tom," Animo thought vaguely of her father, of Gellert, of the anxieties that continued to plague her days. Of the feeling that she was grasping blindly in the darkness for some confirmation she was doing the right thing. "I—"
Tom slammed his hand against the wall, centimeters from her temple and Animo couldn't help but flinch. Panic began to build in her chest at the lack of space between them. Tom trapped her from all sides. "What," the Slytherin seethed, "do I need to do to gain power? You have my mark on your arm," his gaze flickered to where her wrist hung limply at her side, currently bare. "I clearly gained purchase somewhere."
Blinking away the tears that were building in the back of her eyes, Animo attempted her strongest tone. "Get away from me."
"I will—"
There was a sudden crack as Tom was blasted away and into the wall behind, his body making a sickening thud with the stone. Animo immediately lowered her palm, worry flaring in her veins as she rushed forwards and kneeled beside him, resting a hand on his forehead.
"Tom?" The boy's eyes were closed and he gave no response. Growing in fear, Animo pressed her fingers gently to his throat, feeling for a pulse.
"Are you seriously trying to gauge my conscious the muggle way?"
She looked up to see Tom watching her with a vague sort of amusement, his dark eyes nearly hidden in the shadows of the night. Scowling, Animo instantly withdrew her hand and stood, offering to help him up. "I thought that I'd actually hurt you!"
Tom ignored her gesture and stood on his own, rising easily as though he had simply been resting. "Please," he gave her a condescending glance, "again, I question why I let you ever take the mark. That is intended to be an honor for my most accomplished followers."
"Like Abraxas?" snorting, Animo turned back to head towards the inside of the castle. Slughorn's party would be beginning to die down and she didn't fancy being caught out of bed without a viable excuse. "No, you began to give the mark to anyone willing to swear allegiance to you. Numbers became more important than loyalty."
Tom caught in step beside her, their long strides matching as they picked through the scattered pieces of armor. "You seem to know an unusual lot about my.. tendencies." There was a long silence before he continued, his tone slightly rasped, as though causing him a great strain. "Do you know about my past?"
"Yes." Animo caught the flare of rage in the Slytherin's eyes and she touched his arm, drawing him to a halt. "But many didn't. Tom, what I told you about my own story is the truth." She forced Tom to meet her gaze, waiting until he turned to look at her. "I think your story is nothing to be ashamed of. Those purebloods you seem to prize?" she shook her head, the bleak spiral of Lucius Malfoy hovering in her memory, "pride will be their downfall. Don't let it be yours too."
"All these talks," Tom spoke the words slowly, his jaw clenched in realization, "you've been trying to warn me, haven't you?" His tone grew scornful. "Pulling a Dumbledore and chiding me about the 'evils' of the world."
Their breath mingled in the air in a bright cloud as Animo twisted her armlet, letting her nail run over the iron fangs of the serpent. "Yes. But he speaks from experience. Professor Dumbledore is a prideful man too, Tom," she tilted her chin, attempting whatever she could to warm the dark ice of Tom's flinty gaze. "And his family paid the price."
Confusion shaded Tom's defensive brow. "What happened?"
"That is not my story to tell. But he was an ally of Grindelwald," Animo hoped her tone sounded detached while she referenced her brother. Tom withdrew, the shadows of his thoughts dancing darkly in his expressions. "And their quest for power ended in death."
Down the corridor, Animo heard the call of Slughorn's "farewell" as the professor evidently readied for bed. Her time was running out. "Listen, Tom," she chanced reaching up, touching the Slytherin's cheek lightly. To her surprise, he didn't flinch away. "You're not alone."
Turning away, she ducked down the side corridor before remembering she still had Tom's cloak. She unhooked the snap with numb fingers and began to retrace her steps.
"Keep it." Tom's expression was unfathomable as he stood at the end of the corridor, the moonlight dappling his suit with patches of silver.
Managing a smile, Animo began to walk back towards the Slytherin common room, the rough texture of the stones digging into her bare toes and drawing pinpricks of blood.