<04>
Wanda
Astronomy - E
Charms - E
Defense Against Dark Arts - E
Herbology - A
History of Magic - A
Potions - O
Transfiguration - E
Care of Magical Creatures - A
Ancient Runes - O
I'd done well in my O.W.Ls and Professor McGonagall gave me a rare smile as she glanced down at my paper, most of her face in a shadow cast by the steep witch's hat that she wore atop her head.
"Very well done, Maximoff," she said, handing me my timetable. "You're cleared to do all of those subjects."
"Thank you, Professor." I replied, returning the smile as Hermione tugged on my sleeve to look at my lessons.
She squealed with excitement, laying her own timetable down next to it as she peered between them. "Oo! Yes, we have ancient runes first, defence against the dark arts and double potions today - oh, Wanda I'm so excited to start N.E.W.Ts!"
I gave her an incredulous look with one eyebrow raised, "Really?"
She gave me a sheepish smile, her dark brown eyes still glinting as enthusiasm danced behind them. "There's so much to learn!"
I made the crazy gesture with my fingers and pulled my plate of toast towards me, sniggering as she hit me on the arm.
"Woah, cool!" Came Ron's voice from amongst the chatter around us and I glanced at him in confusion - he was grinning from ear to ear, unlike Harry who was wearing an expression of sheer confusion as he regarded him.
"What?" I asked, frowning at his ecstatic face.
"Look how much free time we have!" He exclaimed, laughing with joy. "Free first, break, defence against the dark arts, free, lunch, free and then potions! This is brilliant!"
Hermione scoffed, leaning over my half-empty plate to talk to him, and shook her head exasperatedly, "Ron, that's not free time - it's study periods!" she laughed at the look on his face. "Do you have any idea how much homework we're going to get?"
"But..." Ron mumbled feebly.
As Hermione and I left a seriously dejected Ron, and a downcast Harry, to leave for ancient runes, she giggled and flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Honestly, that boy has no idea."
I chuckled and put the rest of my toast into my mouth as we climbed the first staircase towards the sixth floor. My brother was forever underestimating. I tried not to gasp and almost choked on my toast as I glimpsed my chilling reflection in every shiny surface that we passed, including the suits of armour. The food went stodgy in my mouth and I forced myself to swallow it, nausea rolling through me momentarily as I attempted to listen to Hermione as she recited everything she could remember about the subject from last year.
"-and ehwaz is partnership- god, I can't believe I got that wrong in my O.W.Ls-" she was muttering, counting off things on her fingers as we reached the sixth floor.
We turned a corner and crash!
"What the- Wanda, are you alright?"
I swore and rubbed my nose, blood smearing across my fingers as I steadied myself on the wall. "Watch where you're going lass!" the suit of armour I'd walked into cried, jumping back and resuming its original stand-to position as I swayed on my feet and stumbled into Hermione.
Her eyes widened as she turned my head to look at her with a hand on one side of my face, a small gasp leaving her lips. "Oh my god- how-"
She was interrupted by raucous laughter and the two of us snapped our heads round in the direction of the jeering noise.
Draco Malfoy was stood at the end of the corridor by the Barnabas the Barmy tapestry, laughing. "Nice one, Maximoff!" he called, his pale face was contorted with amusement, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he sniggered heartily.
I couldn't stop the growl that ripped up my throat as I pulled out of Hermione's grasp, my hand reaching for my wand as blood dribbled from the cut on the bridge of my nose. "Shut up, Malfoy." I snarled.
His handsome face sneered as I reached him, Hermione watching anxiously from across the hall. Neither of us said a word as he glared into my eyes, standing at least a head taller than me and in a crisp, black suit covering nearly every inch of his skin from his collar bone down.
His upper lip curled, his eyes tracing the trickle of blood running down my cheek and then flicking to my hair. "Want to be a Weasley that much, do you?" he jeered, my wand jabbing him in the chest.
"What?"
He half-snorted, not taking his eyes off mine as he said, "That's why you changed your hair, right?"
My wand stopped pressing into his chest as a frown of worry made its way onto my face, could he- how? I swallowed hard and subconsciously touched the bottom of my curls, but I couldn't bring myself to look at them.
"I preferred it brown." he sneered, smirking and banging into my shoulder as he left without a backward glance.
I didn't turn around, my stomach was a riddle of anxiety and my mind one of confusion - though, thankfully, my magic seemed to be quite subdued this morning and barely even stirred as I stared out of the slim silver window at the end of the corridor.
"Wanda?" Hermione came up behind me, lugging my bag as well as hers, and looking worried. "Are you alright?"
I shook myself from the worrying trance and forced a smile onto my face, looking her in the eyes. "Yeah, fine."
She frowned and dug out a tissue from the pocket of her robes, "Here." I took it and dabbed the cut, still oozing with blood, and thanked her quietly as she handed me my bag. "What did he say to you?"
"Same as usual." I muttered, untruthfully, but as we started back down the corridor again and I pocketed my wand, I couldn't quite shake the sudden unease rippling through me. "Hermione?"
"Yes?" she replied, giving me an anxious look as we reached the Ancient Runes classroom.
"Does my-" I closed my mouth and then reopened it. "Does my hair look any different?"
Hermione frowned, her hand pausing above the door handle as she looked back at me. "Your hair?" I nodded and her frown deepened. "No..?" Beyond the door, Professor Babbling could be heard beginning her lesson and Hermione gasped, "I- um, should it?" she asked hurriedly, glancing at the door.
I bit into my lip and shook my head. She gave me a weak smile, but her concern was clearly on the lesson we were missing and she rushed into the classroom soon after.
"Sorry we're late, Professor..." she said, sounding shocked at herself as she hurried to take a seat at one of the front desks across from the class of mainly Ravenclaws, immediately reaching for her bag.
"Oh, no matter, dears," The old woman replied as I followed Hermione in. "We're only just getting started - oh, but you will need your books out, everyone."
I sat down next to Hermione, who already had a roll of parchment, quill and ink, and her book on the desk, and took a deep breath. The tall professor was talking again, her ankle-length plaits swaying slightly as she walked and wrote the first translation in the air with her wand. The dark, wooden classroom became pleasantly illuminated as the fluorescent symbol settled itself in the middle of the room.
Immediately Hermione's hand flew into the air. "Yes, dear?"
"Bellwhu is war," she said, "- commonly mistranslated as fighting due to the sword-like symbols in the centre."
"That's absolutely right, well done Miss Granger - 5 points to Gryffindor." Professor Babbling replied, and Hermione beamed, her cheeks flushing in delight.
I stared at the rune not yet vanished from the air; Bellwhu - war, I knew that but wasn't concentrating enough to translate it in my head before Hermione had said it out loud - no, my head was still full of Malfoy- and Luna- the two people who had seen what I'd been trying not to see in reflections since yesterday morning. I definitely wasn't making this up, my mind was not playing tricks on me, two people had noticed and yet... Hermione had not.
I barely listened for the rest of the lesson, absently taking notes but often misspelling things as my mind remained elsewhere. What the hell was going on?
<<>>
At the end of Defence Against The Dark Arts, Snape requested I stay behind - not that it was much of a request, actually - his words were: "Miss Maximoff, you can stay behind."
As the class filed out of the room, Hermione, Harry and Ron waved and gave me reassuring smiles. I returned the waves but couldn't quite muster a smile as I dragged my bag onto my shoulder and trudged up to Snape's desk where he was standing behind it with his back to me, wiping the board free of instructions with his wand.
I waited silently for him to finish.
When eventually he did, he slowly turned around and gave me an appraising look. "Lessons start tomorrow." He said, in the same cold voice that he always spoke in. His coal-black eyes were narrowed, his thin lips in a partial sneer as he continued, "8 o'clock sharp - do not be late, we don't have time to waste."
My lips parted as a question formed on my tongue, but the look on his face told me to do anything but ask it. I nodded silently as my heart sped up, remembering Voldemort's hands around my throat - the awful burning - the helplessness - the shame of it - the weakness.
Snape sneered, glancing at where my hands had risen to the scars on my neck, as if knowing exactly what I was thinking.
"You know where." He finished, not breaking the x-ray-like eye contact as I shrunk under his judging glare.
Between him and Malfoy, I could really use a break.
<<>>
The dungeon corridor was cold as we waited for the new potions master to open up the doors; Hermione and I stood opposite the boys, rubbing our arms and shivering despite our school robes - I think Hermione's teeth may even have been chattering.
"Oh, I w-wish he'd hurry up." She shivered, hugging herself tightly as we stood alone, except for two Ravenclaws, outside of the potions classroom.
"You are the one who wanted us to get here early," Harry pointed out and Ron muttered his agreement, pausing his grumbling about the amount of homework Snape had set us.
"Yes, w-well, maybe we shouldn't have been this e-early," she replied.
Ron snorted as I shifted my bag and pulled my robes tighter around me. "You tell us that now?"
My hands were shaking ever-so-slightly; Snape's announcement, the reflections, this weird feeling of being permanently cornered... it was building up already. It usually took at least a week to get to this point and the speed at which I'd reached it this time was alarming. How many lessons would I need this year? If there was 'no time to waste' on only my first day, something told me it would be more than once a fortnight this time.
I began counting the slimy dungeon bricks to divert my thought process, knowing it was on the road to its usual destination, one I had visited earlier.
1...2...3...4... 4 and a 1/2...5...6...
I'd gotten to 284 by the time the Slytherins had joined us and the unexpectedly large professor threw open the doors.
"Hello, everyone!" he cried genially, beaming at the class of disappointingly unenthusiastic students slouched against the walls outside. "Come in, come in!"
I followed my friends inside, glancing around at the unusually warm room and four cauldrons bubbling steadily away to themselves, each with strangely alluring appearances and scents. Hermione looked extremely excited as she hurried in, walking extra close to the one nearest so that she could peer inside.
"Wow!" I heard her gasp, and Ron rolled his eyes in fond amusement.
As we made to sit down, the professor interrupted, putting a vast hand on Harry's shoulder as he attempted to scoot out of the way; Harry grimaced and threw an embarrassed look in my direction. "I heard that this class needs some mixing!" the professor announced loudly, smiling at all of us - particularly Harry and Zabini. I tried to keep my mouth firmly in a straight line as I regarded him, but he was a short, bald man with the largest belly I'd ever seen and every time he talked his bushy, black moustache bounced up and down like a burrowing hedgehog - the task of keeping a straight face became infinitely hard. "So! I've devised a seating plan to bring us all together!" He finished, happily.
The class collectively groaned and I felt my shoulders sag. If I was made to sit with a Slytherin, then it was clearly written in the stars to be an awful year for me.
"Oh, now," Slughorn chided, giving us all a mock frown. "We're all friends here!"
Almost every head in the room turned to glare at the Slytherins and they glared right back - all except Malfoy, who's pale-lipped mouth was twitching into a smirk, his silver eyes burning with mind-numbing arrogance. I felt my lip curl and completely missed the rest of Slughorn's sentence - Malfoy's smirk widened. "Well, I think I've found my first pair, but in the meantime, Harry m'boy, pick a table-"
My head snapped to the front as Harry stammered about one to his left, his eyes were full of undiluted sympathy - what? Who for?
"Alright - who is this charming young lady with the bright orange hair?" Slughorn asked cheerfully. My stomach jumped and my heart stuttered - orange - he said orange.
"I- uh- um-"
"Her hair isn't orange," Ron interrupted, bemused, looking as though he thought Professor Slughorn was completely barmy. Hermione was frowning beside him, her eyes on me as she appeared very inclined to agree.
"What are you talking about, boy? Of course it is!" Slughorn laughed, waving a bejewelled hand as more people shared disapproving looks. Whether Slughorn noticed or not as he continued jovially, was unclear. "Why it's brighter than yours! What's your name, miss...?"
I swallowed hard, don't let it show - as far as anyone else was concerned, Slughorn was the crazy one, it only became a problem if I started acting odd.
I gripped the strap of my bag so hard that my knuckles threatened to pop right out of my skin, the steel rings cutting painfully into my fingers. "Maximoff." I supplied, my accent excessively thick with stress.
Slughorn picked up on it, his small droopy eyes glinting excitedly. "Oh! And Miss Maximoff, where are you from?"
My eyes couldn't help but dart around the room. People were listening, but I suppose they didn't seem that interested - except of course, Malfoy, who was listening intently - no doubt looking for another thing about me to exploit. I continued begrudgingly, "Sokovia."
The professor was too slow to hide his reaction and mumbled a quick -"Very European" as he visibly recoiled, his face losing the excited glimmer that had momentarily appeared.
The audacity. I felt my heartbeat quicken angrily, throbbing against the inside of my chest as heat rose inside of me, buzzing; Malfoy was sniggering across the room, a weedy-looking boy next to him joining in as the professor re-plastered a false grin onto his face and addressed me again.
"Miss Maximoff, let's have you on the far table with the young man that you've been glowering at most of this time - er -Drake, is it?" Ron snorted as Malfoy's face twisted from one of sheer amusement, into one of raw anger.
"Draco." he snarled. "Draco Malfoy."
"Yes, yes," Slughorn said dismissively, and I might've laughed at the expression of pure rage and indignation on Malfoy's face if it had not been for the fact that I was now placed next to him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Fill those seats!" Slughorn cried when neither of us moved, his eyes widening slightly at the glare that appeared on my features.
My rings trembled uneasily as I bit hard into the inside of my mouth - it seemed the beast was awake again. My eyes cut at my three friends, who were watching - Harry open-mouthed, Ron still laughing at Malfoy's face, and Hermione warily, a look of the utmost sympathy on her features.
I'm sorry she mouthed.
As Slughorn moved onto the next pairing, I aggressively straightened my robes and strode towards the back table, not looking at the blonde-haired boy also stomping towards the desk. I pulled out the nearest chair, let my bag slide off my arm, and dropped myself into it, side-eyeing the cauldron next to me and absently noting that it was Veritaserum.
Even as Malfoy slouched into the chair beside me, muttering about filthy blood-traitors and freaks, it did not sting anywhere near as much as Slughorn's obvious disdain for my home country. It may have been - and apparently still is - a war-torn wreck of a place, but it was my home. It was where I grew up and where I lost my family and that still made it the most important place in the world to me - even if Dumbledore had kept me from returning since.
"Very good, everybody!" Slughorn boomed from the front, pulling me out of my thoughts as I reluctantly turned my gaze to him. He had partnered Hermione with Ginny's ex-boyfriend Michael Corner, Harry with Ernie Macmillan, and poor old Ron with Theodore Nott; the former looking none too impressed. "Scales and potion kits out - oh, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion-Making..."
"Er - sir, Ron and I don't have any equipment," Harry interrupted, raising his hand slightly. "We didn't think we'd be taking Potions until this morning, you see, so we didn't buy anything-"
"Oh, yes of course!" Slughorn interrupted. "Professor McGonagall did mention that - just grab a few spares from the cupboard for today, Harry m'boy." he chirped, and the two of them got up and headed for the cupboard.
Whilst they were in there, Malfoy's chair leg suddenly banged against mine and I jumped in shock. I forgot that I was ignoring him and glared fiercely, my jaw twitching angrily as his sharp, pale face smirked once more.
"What?" He said, lifting his bag onto the desk to pull out his equipment.
I almost broke my scales as I banged them down next to his, the metallic sound echoing throughout the room. I focused intensely on the contents of my potion kit instead of looking at his vile, antagonistic face - thanking whatever God was up there that the scales were made of steel and were sending the throbbing magic in my fingers purring back up my arms and into the centre of my chest once more.
Harry and Ron returned a moment later, Harry looking marginally sulky as he sat down.
"Got everything?" Slughorn asked them, and they nodded. "Good, good. Righty-ho! I've prepared a few potions for you today, just to get familiar with a few of the big ones at N.E.W.T level - who can tell me what this one is?"
He gestured towards the cauldron nearest me and Malfoy and everyone sat up in their seats to get a proper look, including Malfoy, who leant unbearably close. A strong tang of his aftershave wafted across my face, alongside his hot breath, and I felt my heart falter. My hands were trembling again, my lungs choking like they had been tied down with a leash - he needed to move, I had never felt so dangerous.
"It's Veritaserum," Hermione answered, her hand punching into the air faster than anyone else's. I bit hard into the inside of my mouth as Malfoy still did not lean away, his close proximity making my head throb. I focused my stare on Hermione, who hadn't finished talking, and didn't dare to look at him, despite his pale face taking up all of my peripheral vision. "It's a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."
"Very good, very good!" Slughorn said happily, and Hermione threw me an understanding glance, her brown eyes flicking momentarily to Malfoy and widening in alarm.
I turned my head at this, ignoring Slughorn's resumed speaking as I found myself nose to nose with the blonde. His silver eyes had been on the cauldron but flicked to me when I turned around, flaring with amusement at the angry look on my face. He did not move back and was close enough to count every single one of his eyelashes, along with the gentle hints of stubble around his mouth, the mouth that was profoundly sneering.
His breath flew across my face as a silent, mocking, laugh escaped his lips and my knuckles cracked as they clenched into fists.
"Move." I hissed, barely audible over the pulse throbbing in my ears.
His nostrils flared and his cheeks flushed, a muscle twitching under his eye. "Blood traitor."
I snarled and he shifted back, slamming his chair leg into the table. He looked livid.
The pounding of my heartbeat dulled against the sounds of scraping chairs and clanging scales - I hadn't heard a single thing that Slughorn had been saying and surveyed the moving class with confusion, a withdrawn anger still thumping in my veins.
I got up and stormed away from our table, Harry meeting me halfway as I headed towards him. "I am so done." I growled, and his eyes shot a venomous glare over my shoulder, his brows pulling into a glower as Hermione and Ron joined us.
"Oh God, Wanda-" Hermione said as soon as she reached us, "What Slughorn did- it's so unfair."
My lip trembled and Ron spied it, giving me a comforting grimace. "Which part?" I asked, my voice about as steady as a boat at sea in a storm. "Partnering me with Malfoy, or shaming my home country?"
Hermione seemed lost for words, her hand scratching the sleeve of her robes.
"Dammit," Harry muttered, his shoulders squaring. "He's coming over."
"Slughorn?" I asked, looking for the walrus-sized professor.
"No - Malfoy."
My expression of confusion loosened into a cold glare and I spun to face the tall blonde, who sneered at all four of us and shouldered through the group. Harry reached for his wand, growling as Ron caught Hermione.
"No, Harry don't!" Hermione cried, struggling back upright, with Ron's help.
Malfoy glanced over his shoulder as he entered the supply cupboard, smirking. I glared back at him, tugging Harry back around. "How d'you think I feel?" I muttered, breathing freely now that anger and discomfort wasn't choking the life out of me.
The dark-haired boy awkwardly patted the hand still twisted in his robes, suddenly frowning as his fingers made contact with my rings. "Woah, your hair is gin-"
"So what is it that we're supposed to be doing?" I interrupted, jerking my hand away and pulling the sleeve of my robes over it, feeling my breathing speed up again.
Harry blinked as Hermione answered me. "Oh yes!" she gasped. "We're supposed to be making The Draught Of Living Death - move, Ron - sorry, I'm coming Michael!"
She dashed off towards the impatient-looking Ravenclaw waiting at the table they shared, her bushy hair rushing out behind her.
"W-We're doing this in partners?" I groaned, and Ron patted my arm, grimacing.
"Good luck."
<<>>
wanda gif ;0
<<>>