Also, this is the first collage that Anderson's been featured in! He's the one with the black hair and black coat, next to Melody (purple hair). Again, these are just generally what the characters look like, everyone imagines them differently (: Lainey is not looking very friendly this year, though...
Fenrir Greyback was, in fact, a werewolf, and he was also, in fact, a friend of the Malfoy family. He stopped by a few times over the next few weeks to discuss business with Narcissa, who seemed mildly discomforted by his presence. Other Death Eaters were in and out of the Manor, though Draco and I were uninvolved in anything that did not directly affect our task. I did not see Voldemort again before the term began, though I saw a bit too much of Bellatrix Lestrange, as she had continued teaching me and Draco every day. We'd learned to fight off each other's Imperius Curses so well that it was pointless for either of us to even try on the other. We had also practiced a bit of Legilimency, and though we were atrocious at it, I could sometimes briefly extricate a small thought from Malfoy's mind if I concentrated very hard. Learning Legilimency was not very important to me, though; because of my Clairvoyance, I could read people's auras fairly well, and that usually gave me a good indication of what they were thinking.
I had protested using the Cruciatus Curse, and though Bellatrix threatened to use it on me, she never did. Even though I hated her and she found me repulsive because of my half-blood status, we had bonded over the past month of spending every day with each other in a way that seemed to prevent her from exhibiting true cruelty toward me. It was odd, but the Death Eaters did tend to show a small degree of loyalty toward each other, mostly because they worked for the same cause. None of them had been particularly nasty toward me since I acquired the Mark.
On the morning of September 1st, I would normally have felt excited, and this year perhaps a little nervous, but, as I had been rehearsing, I chose to act completely indifferent as Narcissa, Draco, and I traveled to King's Cross. I knew that today I would see all of my Gryffindor friends again, and I knew that today I would have to push them away for good. They were in danger regardless of my friendship with them, but if they discovered that I'd joined Voldemort, I was dead, my mother was dead, and Lupin was as good as dead. My new allegiance had to remain a secret, and to do so I had to extricate myself from all other relationships.
When the three of us arrived on platform nine and three-quarters, I attempted to distance myself from the Malfoys as not to raise suspicion, but, unfortunately, before I could get even five steps away, I spotted the Weasley family, and they spotted me. This would be only a minor issue if the twins had not come to see their younger siblings off to school. Fred's expression had never been as bewildered as it was when he registered that I'd arrived on the platform with the Malfoys.
"Your Weaselbee doesn't look too happy to see you with me," Draco snorted as he stepped up beside me. He wasn't wrong: Fred was practically seething now where he stood among his redheaded family.
"Don't take it so lightly," I muttered without looking in his direction. "We don't want the Weasleys to suspect anything weird is going on. Get on the train. I'll deal with it."
"You can't tell me what to—"
I whipped my head toward him and scowled at him with eyes set to kill.
He cleared his throat and then grumbled, "Fine" before swaggering off toward the Hogwarts Express. I planned to approached the Weasleys in the most discreet way possible, though I apparently didn't need to, as Ginny and George were swiftly stalking toward me with Fred trudging unwillingly behind.
"Lainey, I'm so glad you're here," Ginny gushed before they'd even reached me. "I thought you might not come back, given—well..."
"Glad to see you here, mate," George agreed with a grin as the two of them planted their feet in front of me. "Aren't you glad to see her, Freddy?"
Fred stepped up beside his twin and barely tried to force a smile. "Delighted."
I pressed my lips together and suppressed the massive wave of regret and depression that threatened to drown me. "I'm glad to be here as well. I thought I might not have a way of getting here until I thought to ask Malfoy."
"You could have come with us," Fred retorted bitterly. "Or you could have asked your uncle—"
"Draco Malfoy is one of the very few people in this world whose fate I have no care for," I interjected. "I didn't want Voldemort to find some excuse to harm you all just because you got me to the platform."
Fred seemed unconvinced, as he went on to say, "I saw him waiting outside of our shop. I saw you leave with him—"
"As far as I'm aware, you have no say in who I can and cannot talk to or hang out with or walk with—"
"I'm not a blithering idiot, Lainey," Fred insisted in an elevated tone. "I know that you—"
"Fred, please," Ginny snapped. "You're not going to see Lainey until Christmas. I don't think this is any way to act."
Fred's jaw shifted but he didn't argue; he only stared at me with enmity, and I felt the utmost shame.
"You look...different, Lainey," George observed cautiously. "Are you...are you doing all right?"
"Of course I'm not doing all right," I sneered a bit too rudely. "Everyone I love is slowly being murdered, and the darkest wizard in the world is making a point to ruin my life specifically."
Ginny and George shifted uneasily as Fred stared off distantly in agitation.
"Well, um, we should probably get on the train," Ginny suggested. "If you want, you can sit with Dean and I. I think Seamus will be with us and maybe Neville, so you won't be a third wheel or anything..."
"Thanks for the offer, but I'm going to decline. I have reading to do," I replied rather vaguely as I motioned toward the large book that I held in my arms. "Good luck at your shop, George, Fred. See you around, Ginny—"
"Since when do you read books that big for fun?" Fred questioned before I could slip away.
"Since I started taking life a little more seriously, Weasley," I sneered with actual impatience. "Maybe you should try it."
His jaw drooped in astonishment, but he didn't get to formulate a response before I gave them all a curt smile and then marched away. Ginny was not at all satisfied with my exit.
"Lainey, wait!" she called after me as I approached the train. "Lainey, I really think we should talk!"
I ignored her as I stepped onto the Hogwarts Express and weaved my way through crowds of staring students. They had all, no doubt, heard about my brother's murder, or perhaps the fact that I was no longer a "Mudblood". I was just as eager to escape all of their attention as I was to escape the Weasleys'. I'd nearly made it to an empty compartment, too, when someone grabbed me from behind.
"Lainey," Ginny prompted as she yanked me toward her and forced me to look her in the eye. "We need to talk—"
"No, we don't," I countered flatly. "I need to read, and you need to stay away from me—"
"Lainey, You-Know-Who's not going to kill me because of you," Ginny assured me with a firm tone. "He tried to murder me once in the Chamber of Secrets and he didn't, remember? He's not going to kill me now. I can see why you broke up with Fred—I guess—I'm still not happy about it, but I understand it—"
"Anyone I love is in danger—"
"Anyone Harry loves is in danger, and he hasn't pushed all of his friends away," she insisted adamantly. "I've been trying to write to you all summer and you've been ignoring me. Why won't you talk to me? You know that I'm here for you, Lay. No, I don't know what it's like to lose a father or a brother, but that doesn't mean you can't talk to me about it. I want to understand—"
"No one will ever understand," I told her truthfully. "You'll never know what I'm going through, and I don't want you to. You have a good life, Ginny. Don't let me ruin it—"
"Please, Lainey, you're being ridiculous! We went through this same thing last year—"
"It's different now. Everything's different now—"
"Hey, Ginny, I was just looking for you," Harry Potter greeted as he stepped up beside her. "And Lainey, it's good to see you too. I actually wanted to—erm—thank you...for not betraying me. I heard that you—well—"
"Let Voldemort murder my brother for your sake?" I finished for him as I cocked my head to the side rather snootily.
"Well...yes... I'm really sorry—really. I didn't know him well, but you—you must have loved him a lot," Harry said rather awkwardly. "He was...he was your brother. And I'm sorry you had to lose him—for me especially. I didn't want him to die...for me..."
"Neither did I," I agreed, letting my heartless words cut into him with no remorse. "Now, if you'll excuse me—"
"Hang on," Harry insisted as he reached over and grabbed my left forearm. The Mark still stung, but I didn't flinch away, as not to raise suspicion. Reluctantly and on his own accord, Harry released me. "I wanted to ask you...what were you doing with Malfoy that day in Diagon Alley? After you left the Weasleys', I mean."
My eyes narrowed into slits as I studied him. He was not wondering because he was jealous, like Fred. He was curious because he knew something, or suspected it, at least.
"I don't see how it's any of your business what I do with Malfoy, or any other boy, for that matter," I replied coolly. "If you fancy me, Harry, I'd advise against it—"
"I—I don't," he stammered as his cheeks reddened. "I really don't at all—I swear. I just—I thought—"
"Good," I interrupted before he could finish his babbling thought. "See you two around school."
With the two of them standing in the middle of the train's corridor, flabbergasted, I strutted away toward the empty compartment that I'd been headed for. When I entered, I sat down, let out a shaky breath, attempted to open my oversized book with my trembling hands, and then noticed that someone was already seated on the opposite side of the compartment with a book in her lap and her dark green eyes raised to me.
"Did you see Lyle's ghost?" she questioned flatly.
"N-no," I stammered as I forced myself to blink.
"Hm," Melody grunted before looking back down at her book. "I've been hoping to see it for weeks, but I guess it won't happen since he was just a dumb Muggle."
"You...you still hate Muggles? Even though Lyle was one?" I questioned warily.
"Of course I hate Muggles," she snapped as she continued to read. "I hate them even more now than I did before. If Lyle had been magical, he would have been able to get himself away from that shithead Voldemort. Maybe he'd still be alive."
"So...you don't hate Muggles...you just hate that they don't have magic?"
"Don't try to understand how I feel, Fitzroy," she snarled as her malicious gaze found me again. "You may be accustomed to love and caring, but I'm not. I've never been so...angry. I've been torturing random Muggles all summer, I'm sure you saw in the newspaper. They thought I was a Death Eater, those dumb journalist twats... Muggles are easy to pester, you can imagine, but they're not the group I should have been targeting. My approach this summer was...emotion-driven. Non-methodical. I've cleared my senses. I'll now be hunting Death Eaters, the ones who really deserve pain. Anyone I find with the Dark Mark will die a very gradual and agonizing death."
I forced myself to swallow as my own Dark Mark began to itch rather intensely. I refrained from scratching it.
"That's...very good of you, Melody—"
"I'm not trying to be good," she sneered. "I want revenge. Isn't that what you want too? To kill all the prats that killed Lyle and your father?"
"It is," I admitted truthfully as I stared out the window, pondering. "And we'll get our revenge, I promise you. But we can't be rash. We need to plan—"
"I'm not planning anything with you. Just because we both lost someone doesn't mean that we're automatically friends now. I work solo. You're not talented enough to be my accomplice."
Although I wanted to inform her that I'd learned quite a bit of dark magic over the summer, I knew that to divulge too much to Melody would be a mistake, and probably the last mistake I'd ever make.
Her narrowed eyes fell on her book again, and as I watched her read, I noticed her creepy necklace, the one that Lyle had referred to right before his death. The one that Borgin had refused to answer any inquiries about.
"Hey, uh, Melody, I have a question—"
"No," she interjected before I could finish.
"But I just wanted to ask—"
"No."
"I just have to know—"
"No."
"Hey!" a voice exclaimed before I could press on. Melody did not look up, but I turned my head to the side and found that two boys were standing in the open doorway.
"Melody, I have been looking everywhere for you," Ryan Harper gushed as he took the empty seat beside her. "You look just as gorgeous as ever—and your hair is even lighter than the last time I saw you, classic. And your eyes. Damn they are dark. Like—uh—sapphires."
"Emeralds," Melody corrected. "Sapphires are blue, you dumb piece of dung."
"Move over, Mud," Anderson whined as he shoved me toward the window and then sat in the booth next to me. "Yeah, that's better... Guess I don't have to worry about touching you anymore though since you're not actually a Mudblood. And, since you're single, there aren't any guys who will come beat me up for accidentally sitting too close to you. Well, except Malfoy, probably..."
"How did you know I was single?" I asked as carelessly as I could. Apparently, though, I wasn't going to get an answer, because as soon as I turned my head toward Anderson, his eyes lit up.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Harper—look. Lainey's got a little black bug on her nose—"
"It's a nose piercing," I snapped as I covered my nose with my hand. "Stop looking at it—"
"I wouldn't want to look at it," Harper grunted as he rolled his eyes. "It's ugly."
"Did you go to a Muggle place to get it? That must have been weird, Muggles are the worst—"
"No, I stabbed myself with a needle," I informed Anderson before he could go off on a rant. "I was...bored...and unhappy..."
"You should have used magic, you dumb Mudblood," Melody sneered as she motioned toward her own nose. How I hadn't noticed it early, I did not know, but Melody, too, now had a piercing in her nose from which a little black hoop protruded. I felt stupid, of course, for not thinking to use magic to painlessly pierce my nose, but what really unsettled me was the fact that Melody and I were so similar now. To become a Death Eater was horrible, yes, but to become Melody Flemming? That was a whole new level of sinister and dark.
"We...can't use magic outside of school," I said innocently, and Melody snorted.
"Shut up," was all she said before she resumed reading.
"Hey—hey," Harper said when he finally really looked at me for the first time. "What is that shit under your eyes, Fitzroy?"
"Eyeliner," I answered as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "Melody's been wearing it since she was eleven, why have you never criticized her for it?"
"Because Melody is beautiful," Harper retorted with a resentful scowl. Melody did not seem to enjoy his compliment, though, because as soon as he said it, she whipped her Target Knife out of her pocket and aimed it at his face.
"Stop talking before I slit your throat," she snarled venomously. "I'll do it slowly, you know? So slow that you'll be able to see the blood spurting out of your damn veins—"
"Melody!" Ashley shrilled as she and Astoria appeared in the compartment's doorway. "Harsh!"
"Don't tell me what's harsh, Pucey, or I'll cut you too—"
"No you won't," Astoria scoffed dismissively as she plopped into the empty seat on the other side of Anderson. "You pretend to be mean, Melody, but we know that you love us."
"I don't love anyone," she muttered as she slipped her knife away. Ashley cautiously sat on the other side of Harper, sending wary glances in Melody's direction every few seconds.
"Ooh, Melody, I've been meaning to ask you, what was that spell you tried to use on You-Know-Who in the woods?" Astoria questioned rather curiously. "Acus—something, I dunno. It sounded mysteriously cool and I was hoping we would see it play out before that hideous-haired witch paralyzed you. Not you, Lainey, I mean the other ugly witch that was there."
I didn't bother to retort, as I was equally intrigued as to what spell Melody had attempted to cast on Voldemort.
"Acusanguis," Melody clarified flatly. "It's a curse I created. It would have turned his blood cells into needles."
"Ooh, maybe I wouldn't want to see that," Astoria said before biting her lip. "Sounds gross. Would that kill a person?"
"Are you stupid?" Melody retorted snidely. "Yes, to both."
"Ooh, she just burned you!" Anderson chortled, though his face immediately dropped when he noticed that Melody, Astoria, and I were all scowling at him viciously. "Ooh, right, forgot... Too soon..."
"Not sure what you chumps are all talking about, so I'm going to change the subject," Harper piped up. "Let's talk about the fact that while Dumbroy was piercing her nose and putting on makeup, I was spending the summer learning to play a musical instrument."
"Ooh, which one?" Ashley asked feverishly.
"No one cares," Melody groaned before shoving her face into her book.
"I taught myself how to play the guitar," Harper announced proudly, as though Melody had said nothing.
"Ooh," Ashley marveled with wide, bright eyes. "What's that?"
"Really? Purebloods don't know what guitars are?" I questioned dubiously.
"No, she's just dumb," Astoria assured me.
"I have composed hundreds of songs," Harper bragged. "I'm basically a pro, I'd say."
"Play a song, play a song!" Ashley commanded as she excitedly slapped his arm.
"All right, all right, if you all insist," Harper said as he pulled a rock and his wand from his pocket. With the wand, he transfigured the rock into a wooden acoustic guitar and then grinned broadly at all of us...except me; every time his eyes fell on me, he would glower with loathing.
"Most of my songs are about Melody," he explained as he propped the guitar up on his leg. "But my favorite song is about Lainey."
Melody's scowl was scary enough to make me shiver, and my cheeks quickly grew to be as red as Astoria's lipstick.
"You—uh—wrote a song for me?" I coughed uncomfortably. "You—you really don't have to sing it now—"
"Oh, no, I want the entire Slytherin Six to hear this song," Harper assured me with an impish smirk as he prepared his guitar. "Ready?"
"No—just sing it later," I insisted with a nervous glance in Melody's direction.
"Here we go," Harper said with a strum on the strings.
"Harper, seriously—"
But there was no stopping him as he began to violently strike the guitar's strings with the pick and sing an off-tune song:
"Secrets, secrets, secrets are no fun,
Secrets are no fun for anyone,
Anyone but Lainey,
Who loves to keep secrets,
Who loves to keep secrets from her best friend,
Who loves to tell everyone—EVERYONE!
That she's a Mudblood,
And she's not a Mudblood,
But she lets someone—ME!
Think that she's a Mudblood,
When she's not a Mudblood,
Because...
Secrets, secrets, secrets are no fun,
Secrets are no fun for anyone,
Anyone but Lainey,
Lainey Fitzroy,
Who loves to lie,
And deceive,
And hurt,
AND BETRAY—"
"Okay, okay, that's enough, Harper, I get it!" I exclaimed loud enough to be heard over his spiteful song. He stopped strumming and stared at me with narrow eyes and sour lips.
"Are you sure you get it?"
"That was a really bad song," Ashley breathed as though she'd been eternally scarred. "It didn't even rhyme at all! And your singing was off pitch. You shouldn't really try to sound so angry when you sing. It's scary."
"I like the anger," Melody countered as she smirked smugly to herself. "It's refreshing."
"It's giving me...a headache," I lied as I rapidly stood from my seat, clutching my book to my chest. "I'm going to find my own compartment."
Though Harper's face softened just before I turned away from him, I chose to ignore it as I swept out of the compartment.
"Wait!" I heard him call after me as I stalked down the corridor. "Why are you upset? You shouldn't be upset! You never get upset! You're Lainey! You get mad and you fight and it's usually comical!"
My course remained steady toward a compartment that I hoped would be empty, and I didn't bother to pivot my head, even when I heard his footsteps trailing after me and felt his body walking beside mine.
"I'm the one that's mad here, all right?" he fumed as we continued down the hallway. "You lied to me!"
No refute was made, because he spoke the truth. No apology was made, because even though I did feel sorry, it was best if Harper hated me. It was best that all of the Slytherin Six hated me, because then they wouldn't be in danger. And they wouldn't discover anymore of my secrets.
"You know, you never had any hope in me, Lainey, but all of my wildest dreams are coming true," Harper went on in his tone of resentment.
"Cool," was all I mumbled.
"Don't you want to know what my dreams are?" he questioned hotly.
"No," I answered in a very Melody-like manner.
Harper's face twitched in frustration, but he didn't explode. "Well, if you're not wondering, Melody and your brother are broken up, which means that Melody is single, which means that soon she's going to be dating me."
I halted my strides and finally faced him with an expression riddled with rage. "You think that's why Melody's 'single', do you? Because she and Lyle broke up?"
Harper swallowed. "Well...yeah... I mean, Anderson, Astoria, and Ashley all told me that she's not with him anymore—"
"Because he's dead," I informed him bluntly.
His blue eyes blinked. "Oh, c'mon, Lay. I might live under a rock in the summers, but not under a boulder. I would know if your brother died. You would have...you would have told me..."
"Oh, yes, what a charming letter that would have been," I barked sardonically. "'Hello Harper, my brother was just burned to a crisp by the Dark Lord, isn't life cheery?'"
"The Dark Lord?" he repeated as his brow crinkled. "Don't you mean...? Well...you usually say the name..."
"That's what I meant—Voldemort," I corrected hastily. "He—he burned Lyle to death. That's why Melody's not with him. That's why I'm—um—why I have a nose piercing...and stuff..."
"I...I'm sorry, Lay," Harper said with earnest sympathy. "That's...that's rough."
"Yeah."
"I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm selfishly thrilled because that means I have a slim chance with Mel, but I'm sad for you...partially..."
I rolled my eyes and forced my lips not to curl into a smirk.
"C'mere, let's go into this compartment and talk," Harper suggested, motioned toward the empty compartment behind us.
"Oh—okay," I stammered as he guided me in by my arm and allowed me to sit in the bench across from him.
"I'm sorry I was so mad at you," he apologized as he leaned toward me and rested his elbows on his knees. "I just...thought we were best friends, you know? I thought you'd tell me your secrets, even if you didn't tell other people..."
"Does it matter to you that much?" I asked softly. "What my blood status is, I mean."
"No, but it is pretty cool that you're a Gaudium. No wonder I couldn't hate you even when we first met and I was a prejudice prick."
"I'm not a Gaudium," I said dryly. "There are plenty of people who hate me and find themselves unhappy around me. If I were a Gaudium, you wouldn't have been able to be mad at me."
"Oh...right..." Harper said as he leaned back in his seat and stared pensively out the window. "Well, your brothers must be Gaudiums then, right? It's gotta get passed down somewhere, doesn't it?"
"No, I don't think any of my brothers were—are," I corrected hastily. "It's in our blood though... If I had kids, they could be Gaudiums. Hence why all of the Slytherin boys selfishly want to sleep with me."
"Oh, I don't want to sleep with you, trust me," Harper assured me, his lips bunching into a crooked grin. "And I'm sure Anderson doesn't. He's not into girls with black hair, oddly enough... And you know, I'm going to be stuck on Melody forever no matter what."
"Of course," I snorted as I shook my head amusedly. "So, uh...can you actually play the guitar? Or was that just a ruse to express your anger with me?"
"Oh, yeah, I actually play," he reassured me as he pulled the same little rock out of his pocket and transfigured it back into his guitar. "I didn't write hundreds of songs, though. I only said that to impress Melody. Do you think she was impressed?"
"Very," I lied with mild sarcasm.
"The only songs I've actually written are 'Secrets', which is my hate ballad aimed at you, and...and, well, that's the only completed song so far... But I'm working on one that I like to call 'Slytherin Six'."
"Really?" I mused, leaning back and crossing my arms as I raised an eyebrow. "Can I hear it?"
"Well," he began as he pulled out a crumbled piece of paper, "I only have two verses done so far—yours and Melody's."
"Well, let's hear them," I prompted with a deep inhale.
After clearing his throat, he began to strum a melody on the guitar that was much sweeter than his last, and this time his vocals actually correlated with the tune:
"Melody is the love of my life,
She's got purple hair on her head,
She used to snog her Muggle boy,
But soon she'll realize he's a bum and snog me instead..."
His words trailed off and he abruptly stopped strumming as he winced up at me. "You know, in light of what you've just told me, maybe I'll scratch out the part about your brother and write something else..."
I pursed my lips as he began to scribble on the crinkled parchment with a Muggle pencil. "Mm, good idea."
"You know, if I just said, 'But now he's dead', that would rhyme really well, but...uh...you know...never mind," he stammered before shaking his head and embarrassedly staring down at his paper. "I'll figure it out later... Wanna hear your verse?"
"Sure..." I agreed, peering over at his scribbly notes with skeptical eyes.
Harper, again, cleared his throat and sat up straight as he started up the same tune:
"Lainey is a lying bitch,
She's got the ugliest face,
She lied about being a Mudblood,
And she's really just a huge—disgrace."
Harper spoke the last word and glanced up at me with a grimace. "That was worse than I thought, but when I wrote it, I was very angry with you."
"I can tell."
"But, if this cheers you up at all, see my horrible handwriting?" he said as he stuck the parchment in my face. "Well, it's so bad, that when I showed my sister, she though that I said you had the ugliest farts, not the ugliest face. Don't be surprised if she scrunches her nose every time she sees you in school..."
I snorted a mild laugh. "Wonderful, Harper, wonderful..."
"My mother also wasn't too happy that I called you the B-word," Harper whispered. "She told me I shouldn't 'treat women with such scorn'."
My lips curved upward as I examined his playful face and breathed in his good vibe. It felt nice to smile again, to laugh again. But Harper's lightheartedness toward me, and his undeserved forgiveness, only made me feel more guilt, as I was still lying and deceiving him.
"Is your mum a Muggle?" I asked him to take my mind off my pessimistic thoughts.
"No, but she is a Muggle-born," he told me as he placed his guitar on the empty seat beside him. "A Mudblood, like you...were... That's why I pretended to hate you so much when we were young. I didn't want anyone to know about my history. Slytherins still aren't very fond of half-bloods. And I always thought that Melody was a pureblood, so I wanted to impress her... Turns out she's got almost as much Muggle in her as I do."
"So your dad is a wizard then?"
"Yup, mostly pure, too," he explained. "The Harpers aren't very prejudice, though. Well, except for my uncle, Maxwell... He's a nut. But my dad never cared that my mum was Muggle-born. They do hate Muggles though, since my mum's Muggle family is a bunch of prats. I've never met them, but I'm told they're prats..."
"What did they do?"
"They just hated my mum for being a witch," Harper replied with a shrug. "They wouldn't let her go to Hogwarts when she got her letter. My dad taught her all of the magic that she knows."
"Oh," was all I could think to say. I couldn't imagine my Muggle family hating me for being a witch, even though, by this point, they had every reason to...
"Yeah, which is why I've never liked Muggles much. I felt a little bad for you, honestly, when we first met. Thought you came from a family of prats like my mum. But you have a pretty good family...minus all the death..."
"Yeah," I said as I let out a sigh.
"Now, you probably don't want to talk about it, but as your best friend, I think I deserve to know every little detail of your break up with that Weasley," Harper said as he tilted his head to the side. "So, tell me about it."
So, against my will, I told the most emotionless and untrue story of how I'd fallen out of love with my boyfriend and broken it off. And that was the story that Hogwarts students would be told when they heard of Lainey and "George's" break up. That would be the story of how I'd lost my first, and probably my last, boyfriend.
∆
"Well, I'm convinced she's been exchanging letters with a Slytherin boy," Harper was saying to me, referring to his sister, as we got off of the Hogwarts Express a few hours later. We'd spent the remainder of the ride alone in that compartment, chatting as freely as I could. Being emotionless around Harper had proven to be almost as difficult as being emotionless around Fred, but I was improving...
"Why do you care?" I asked him as we stepped onto the platform.
"I can't let my little sister date a Slytherin," Harper whispered. "I mean, Slytherins are the best, but they're not good dating material. Plus, I think it's Malcolm Baddock that she's been talking to, and he's got 'bad' in his last name. And he's a year older than her! What would your brothers have done if you'd told them you liked Mal—who also has 'bad' in his last name?"
I wasn't sure how to respond, as my brothers probably would have killed me if I had fancied the one they often referred to as the "Blond Prat", but I didn't have to come up with an answer before I was suddenly greeted by someone unexpected.
"Lainey," Nymphadora Tonks said with surprise as we walked past her. Though I would have preferred to run away and pretend I hadn't heard her, she gently grabbed my arm, forcing me to stop. "I'm so glad I caught you. Your uncle and I have been so worried—"
"What are you...doing here?" I asked in an attempt to change the subject. Harper had spotted the other Slytherin Six members and gone to join them, leaving Tonks and I alone near the train.
"Was stationed here by the Order to make sure Harry got off the train all right," she replied lowly. "And I still haven't seen him yet... Anyway, where have you been? We've been—"
"Uh—what happened to your hair?" I questioned hastily. "Wasn't it purple?"
"Oh—yeah," she said as she touched her now dull, brown hair. "I'm, uh—well, you know, it's been a rough few months... Sirius, and Lyle, and all your brothers..."
I avoided her eyes, feeling immense guilt. I'd forgotten that Tonks had been so close with my brothers. Over the past year, she'd seen them even more than I had. She probably regarded them as family. And now one of them was dead, because of me, and the other two were gone, because of me.
"And you've been missing as well," Tonks went on, bringing us back to the dreaded conversation. "Remus thought you were working at Madam Malkin's after leaving the apartment, but when we went to visit you last week, Malkin said she hadn't seen you in weeks. Remus has been looking everywhere—"
"I've been working as a housemaid for a friend," I lied swiftly. "I forgot to send Remus a letter. I've been very busy, and I haven't seen much of Dev. I don't think he's known where to find me."
"That's odd, he never brings our letters back to us..." she pondered. "Wonder where he's been dropping them off..."
He was dropping them off with me, all of my letters. I probably had a hundred by now, from Remus, Fred, Ginny, and all of my friends, really. Even the ones from the Slytherin Six I hadn't opened.
"Who knows, he's a weird bird," I said with a forced laugh. "Sorry to worry you both so much. Now you know where I'll be, though, at Hogwarts."
"Yes, and you'll be much safer here with Dumbledore and all," Tonks agreed, though the mention of the Headmaster's name made me cringe. "Well, I'd better go look for Harry. Still haven't seen him... Write to your uncle, okay, Lainey?"
I nodded, but I had no real intention of contacting Lupin. I would try to tell one lie and he would immediately know the whole truth. He was too cunning.
To get to the castle, I rode in a carriage with students that I did not recognize. They all seemed to recognize me, though; for the entire ride they just stared at me, probably wondering if all of the rumors were true. If Voldemort had killed my father. If Voldemort had killed my brother. If I was a Seer. If I was a Gaudium.
When I arrived in the entrance hall with the rest of the school, I tried to sneak away, but McGonagall noticed me scurrying toward the dungeons, and she ushered me into the Great Hall without reproach. In the presence of so many students, especially students that were gawking at me, I felt overwhelming embarrassment and shame. Most of their whispers were about the fact that I wasn't a Muggle-born anymore, though I feared that somehow, some of them would discover that I was now the complete opposite: a Death Eater.
"Adrian and Daphne finally broke up," Ashley was saying when I sat down next to her at the Slytherin table. Daphne Greengass, who she spoke of, was sitting not far from us among the sixth year Slytherins. "I've been waiting for something bad to happen to Adrian since he passed all of his N.E.W.T.s!"
"He passed all of his N.E.W.T.s?" Anderson blurted in astonishment. "How are you two related?"
"I don't know, but I wish we weren't," Ashley said as she shook her head.
"I didn't want them to break up," Astoria said softly enough that her sister didn't hear.
"What do you mean?" Ashley demanded with a tone of outrage.
"Well, since Evy and I are clearly getting married, Lainey's going to be my sister one day. I was hoping you'd be my sister too, Ash—"
"I never thought of that!" Ashley exclaimed with a gasp. "Then we would all be sisters! Daphne! Daphne! You need to get back with Adrian!"
"No," Daphne snapped as she clung desperately to Blaise Zabini's arm. "I'm with Blaise now and Pansy's with Draco. It's the perfect double-date scenario and I'm not ruining it."
Pansy, where she sat beyond Crabbe and Goyle, sneered directly at me, but I ignored her completely as I slammed my large book on the table and opened it in the same fashion that Melody had already opened hers.
"If you're with Draco now, where is he?" Astoria asked Pansy calmly.
"He's—he's right there," she stammered once her eyes locked onto Malfoy, who was stalking into the Great Hall at the end of the horde of students. "He stayed behind on the train for a few minutes. I think he was getting a gift ready for me that he didn't want me to see," she explained as he approached the Slytherin table. As expected, he positioned himself between her and Goyle when he sat, though I was mildly disappointed that he hadn't chosen to occupy the empty space between Crabbe and I...
"I'm sure you'll all be interested to hear about what I just did to Potter's face," Malfoy drawled rather proudly. My eyes immediately flew to the Gryffindor table, where I saw that Ron and Hermione were sitting without Harry.
"Tell us, Draco," Pansy insisted as she stroked his arm.
"Well, I found him spying in our compartment—" (Pansy gasped at this) "—so I put him in a Full Body-Bind, smashed his face with my foot, and threw him underneath his stupid Invisibility Cloak. He's sure to have a nice ride back to London."
All of the sixth years laughed, and Pansy's high shrills reminded me greatly of Bellatrix's. I kept my gaze on my book, as though I'd been reading, and held back all of my sassy comments. I didn't really care about Harry enough anymore to reprimand Malfoy. Perhaps it would be better if Harry didn't attend Hogwarts this year. Then he wouldn't be able to give me suspicious and judgmental glances every time his eyes wandered in my direction.
"Hey, do you all wanna hear something that's really spectacular?" Anderson asked the sixth years as he leaned toward their group. "I broke up with that Weasley girl! She's such a blood traitor, I just had to—"
"Shut up, you dumb half-blood," Pansy commanded snidely. "You're barely even a wizard yourself! And you betrayed the Inquisitorial Squad for her—"
"Yes, but I broke up with her, so we're all good now," Anderson insisted. "I told her she was...ugly and...and stupid, and then I punched her in the face—like Malfoy kicked Potter in the face! Wicked, right?"
"Wicked in the evil way!" Astoria cried. "I didn't know you abused women, Vince! I never would have snogged you!"
Anderson's face paled as he fumbled for a response. "I—well—I only hit hideous, blood traitor women—"
"Weasley may be a blood traitor, but if you don't find her attractive, you're probably not attracted to women," Blaise interjected with a wry smirk. All of the other boys snickered in agreement.
"Fine, she's hot," Anderson admitted with a heavy sigh. "And she's bloody awesome—but I still dumped her, all right? Can I be on the 'cool' Slytherin list again?"
"It's a very selective list, Vince," Astoria insisted rather seriously. "And I don't know that you were ever on it."
Anderson sputtered a nonsensical retort, though no one bothered to continue the conversation, as the Sorting was beginning. I heard none of the names and saw none of the faces of the new Slytherins because I was engrossed in my reading about dark magical artifacts, hoping maybe to find some information about Melody's necklace or, more importantly, something that could help Malfoy and I kill the Headmaster...
When I peeked a glance at Malfoy, I noticed that he was not cheering or clapping for the new Slytherins like he usually did. He didn't even chortle when Harry arrived after the Sorting, late and with a face covered in blood. And, when Dumbledore announced that Snape would be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor since Umbridge had disappeared into the Forbidden Forest, all of the Slytherins exploded with applause, but Malfoy didn't. He didn't even discuss it with Pansy or his friends as we exited the Great Hall after the feast had concluded.
"Snape will teach the subject right," Melody was saying to the rest of the Slytherin Six as we walked out into the entrance hall. "He'll focus on offensive spells rather than defensive spells."
"I just hope Potions is easier with that new old guy," Astoria put in. "I don't care about my grade, obviously, but I want to improve my potion-making skills so I can discover the potion that will restore Lainey's hair to its normal color."
"I don't want to change my hair color," I retorted flatly, but no one acknowledged me.
"Wanna know what's crazier than Snape being the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Harper said as we descended into the dungeons. "Ashley being Prefect. How, out of all of the girl Slytherins in our year, did she get picked?"
"Yeah," Anderson chimed in as we all stared ahead at Ashley, who was helping the Head Boy and Girl lead the first years to the common room. "I mean, we all knew that Palmer would be Prefect, but Ashley? I swore it'd be you, Mud."
"Fitzroy is too unstable to have any authority," Melody retorted before I could open my mouth.
"True, and you're too evil, Melody, and I can't be bothered with such petty work, so it had to be Ashley," Astoria agreed matter-of-factly.
"I should be Prefect," Harper decided. "I think I'll steal Palmer's place next year."
"That sounds cruel," Melody observed in a tone of approval.
"I wish I could be Prefect, but I'm not likable enough," Anderson admitted with a sigh.
"True," Astoria and Harper agreed at the same time.
As Melody continued to read her book and the other three bickered about popularity, I stalked ahead quickly, dodging past students as they entered the common room. Since Malfoy was a Prefect, he was helping with the first years instead of talking with his friends, so, as the new Head Boy began to rant to the new students in the center of the common room, I grabbed Malfoy's arm and inconspicuously yanked him into a distant, desolate corner.
"What do you want, Fitzroy?" he hissed with anxious agitation as his eyes darted around. "I'm supposed to be—"
"Your Prefect duties are the least of our worries right now," I snapped. "You said Harry was spying on you on the train?"
"Yeah, Potter was being a snoop. So?"
"Why would Harry want to spy on you? Do you think he...suspects anything?" I questioned with unease.
Malfoy shrugged nonchalantly. "He can suspect all he wants. He's got no proof, I didn't say anything—"
"Harry has all of the proof in the world if he just pulls up our left sleeves!" I shouted in a hushed tone. "We need to be...careful, all right? I know you're probably proud of what we...are, but I don't think the Dark Lord will be very pleased with us if we go flaunting it. You can't tell anyone about this—you can't even hint about it. Even your dumb friends can't know. Even Pansy can't know."
"Pansy? Why would I tell Pansy over anyone else?"
My face twitched as I attempted to keep my demeanor indifferent. "She...said you two were together now. She's perfect for you, really. Always complimenting you and ignoring your flaws, just what you want in a girl."
"Isn't that what you want too?" he sneered defensively. "Wasn't Weasley always complimenting you? Did he ever point out your flaws—tell you how annoying and stupid you are?"
"Annoying and stupid?" I repeated with raised eyebrows. "Real mature insults, Malfoy."
"Hey, Fitzroy!" a voice called, drawing all attention toward where Malfoy and I huddled in the corner. The first years were all staring at us with their nervous little eyes while the new Head Boy addressed me. "Can I use you as an example of how we treat Mudbloods in Slytherin? We know you're not really a Mudblood, but your life's a good example of how Mudbloods should be treated."
I did not know this Head Boy by name, but I already hated him more than the last Head Boy, Adrian. Of course, even after I'd exposed the fact that I was not what these people hated most, they still had to badger me for it. And of course, when I was just trying to have a private and important conversation with Malfoy, everyone had to start ogling at me—or, in Pansy's case, glaring at me.
"Sure, fill all of these eleven-year-olds' heads with prejudice thoughts and false notions of how Muggle-borns are inferior," I barked with strong sarcasm. The Head Boy took my words quite seriously, though, and began to explain how dirty "Mudbloods" were to these innocent children. Even though I was a Death Eater, a person who literally preyed on Muggles and Muggle-borns, I was appalled.
Malfoy merely snorted. "At least some people haven't been brainwashed with your 'Gaudium-blood' rubbish."
"Need I remind you that you were the first person to be brainwashed with my 'Gaudium-blood' rubbish when you asked me to mate with you just last year?" I questioned, cocking my head to the side rather sassily. Malfoy could only roll his eyes in response. "Now, why don't you go run off with Pansy so no one starts to suspect anything, hm?"
Malfoy's lips slid into a slimy smirk. "You're jealous of Pansy, aren't you? Wish you could be a pureblood, perhaps? Or that you weren't someone that I absolutely despise? Maybe you wish you could have sat by my side at the feast this evening, or held my hand—"
"I don't care what you do with Pansy," I insisted heatedly. "But I will say that I don't think romance should be your biggest concern at the moment. It certainly isn't mine. I don't plan to find another romantic interest until the day I die. Or the day that Voldemort dies, perhaps."
Malfoy's nose scrunched with irritation. "Call him 'the Dark Lord', will you? And I'm not interested in romance either, I'll have you know. And stop...reading that book," he said as he gestured toward the large book in my arms, the one I'd been reading all day: Dark Magical Artifacts: The 186th Edition. "You look suspicious. People are going to catch on—"
"How do you think we're going to murder the bloody Headmaster if I don't do some research, hm? We need to make sure we get this done—"
"I already have the Opal Necklace, Fitzroy," he hissed. "It's going to work—"
"What does it even do?"
Malfoy stiffened and straightened his shirt. "You'll see. You're only my assistant, Fitzroy. You do as I say. Now, go act normal with your lame friends and pretend to hate me."
"I don't have to pretend, I do hate you," I clarified disparagingly.
"Then start acting like it," he commanded, jumping his eyebrows in a way that was either meant to be threatening or seductive; I could not tell.
I wanted to go back to my dormitory and change my clothes before the other girls could come in and see my Dark Mark, but unfortunately, Anderson approached me before Malfoy had even taken five steps away, and, apparently, I had to act normal.
"What do I do, Mud?" he groaned as he leaned against the grey stone wall with a limp posture. I kept my book held tight to my chest as I eyed him with uncertainty. "None of the Slytherins like me even though I broke up with Weasels. I made a mistake, Mud. I loved her and now I can't be with her!"
"You didn't love her—"
"I did, just like you love your Weasels," he pouted as he turned his body and buried his face in the wall. "And now all of it's over. We never even went on a double date! And now she's with Dean and you're with Malfoy and I'm with no one—"
"I'm not with Malfoy," I interjected hastily. "And you'll...find someone else. What about...Tracey Davis? She's a sixth year, see her over there with Millicent—"
"I cannot go from Astoria to Sadie to Weasels to that. I have a type, Mud," he insisted in a haughty tone. "I only date attractive females."
As I rolled my eyes, I spotted Sadie Morton, Anderson's ex-"girlfriend" who was now surrounded by a horde of guys. Urquhart was among them, of course, because they apparently had some sort of "thing" going on. It had never really struck me as odd that so many boys flocked to Sadie, because she was practically a model, but now, as I watched them all fawn over her, it suddenly dawned on me that to have so many people love her when she was clearly strange must require some magical ability. All of her friends clung to her, she had treated Anderson like a slave for months and he barely cared until I'd pointed it out, and while she didn't seem to make everyone happy, she certainly had some positive effect on most... If she wasn't one of the Gaudiums that I was looking for, then she had to be a veela.
"Did Sadie ever tell you anything about her family history, Anderson?" I asked him, but when I turned back to the wall that he'd been drooped on, I found that he was no longer there. Now, he was lying on the ground, rolling back and forth and moaning about his pathetic life. I didn't try to console him; instead I slinked around the outside of the common room to get a better look at Sadie. She didn't seem to be secreting an aura of happiness, but...maybe I was immune to it because I had Gaudium blood myself. That could make sense...maybe... But I hadn't been immune to my mother's powers...unless I had been and I didn't know it—
"Whoa—hey—get away from me, Mudbl—er...Fitzroy," Carl Vaisey barked when I accidentally bumped into him. He'd been standing near the wall, sipping on a rather large potion-filled beaker and watching the social interactions within the common room with glassy eyes.
"S-sorry," I stammered distractedly as I tried to find Sadie again. With a seductive smirk, she was guiding Urquhart toward the dormitories, and my jaw clenched.
"Isn't it just so great to be back here for a fifth year?" Vaisey mused sarcastically before gulping down more of his blue-colored potion. "I envy Miles."
"How's he doing—Bletchley, I mean?" I prompted with earnest curiosity. "It's going to be different without him around to trick first years into buying his concoctions."
"He's still making mad money with his underground potions-selling business," Vaisey assured me. "And, as expected, he's asked me to continue distribution at Hogwarts, brewing the potions and selling them, you know...He makes ninety percent of the profit, which make sense—"
"How does that make sense?" I questioned incredulously. "You do all the work and he makes all the money?"
"I'm making ten percent, all right—"
"But you do all of the work—"
"But they're his recipes—"
"But you do all the work," I repeated, though this only seemed to aggravate him even further because he threw his beaker on the ground, breaking the glass and spilling the blue liquid.
"Look what you did, Mudblood! You made me throw my potion on the ground out of anger!" he exploded, though no one seemed to notice his outburst. They were all busy listening to the Head Boy tell the tale of "Mudblood Fitzroy" and her four years of being "rightfully" harassed.
"I didn't make you do anything," I hissed.
"Shut up, just shut up, okay? You're making me want to drink more Bottle of Bliss and that was the last of it, so if you would just stop existing, please—"
"Does it—does it really work?" I asked. "Do any of his potions work?"
"Of course they work," he sneered impatiently. "They just take a few minutes to kick in... That Bottle of Bliss would have been great, really, but then you had to make me angry. Now I'm going to need a Vexation Vanquisher—"
"The Bottle of Bliss, what does it actually do?" I inquired over his rant.
Vaisey's brow furrowed as he blinked rapidly and then squinted at me with his brown eyes. "What is...what was... This is a really nice day."
"So that's what it does?" I questioned as my head tilted to the side. "Makes you forgetful and daft?"
"What? The Bottle of Bliss? No, no, it just makes you peaceful... I know I was mad at you, and that you're obnoxious, but I don't really care anymore... Here," he said as he pulled out a small vial of blue liquid and handed it to me.
"I thought you said you were out of Bottle of Bliss?" I questioned as I skimmed the title on the label.
"I lied because you were pissing me off."
I rolled my eyes. "What do you want me to do, drink this?"
"No, no," he insisted calmly. "You'd have to pay me, obviously. Just read the label."
I had to squint to read the small print on the vial, but, in Vaisey's odd handwriting, it clearly said, "Bottle of Bliss: Say goodbye to stress and depression. You will be totally tranquil."
"Sounds...nice," I commented with intrigue.
"Yeah, it is really nice," he agreed as he leaned back on the wall serenely. "That vial's one galleon. Only three galleons for a beaker."
"One Galleon for this thing?" I questioned as I held up the small vial. "I'm not rich—"
"I thought you had no interest in my potions?" he said as his eyebrows shot up and his lips formed a grin.
"I-I...don't..."
"Save it, Fitzroy, I'm not going to tell anyone if you buy a vial. Buyer confidentiality," he assured me smoothly. "Seems like a lot of money, but a small vial like that will last for hours. Beakers can last a day or two, good stuff... Plus, to please his ex-girlfriend, Bletchley now requires that each potion is accompanied by a free antidote."
My brow furrowed as Vaisey pulled out a vial of clear liquid and handed it to me.
"'Ashley's Antidote'?" I read dubiously. "Bletchley made this for Ashley?"
Vaisey shrugged. "Apparently she demanded antidotes."
"'By request of Ashley Pucey, I have devised this antidote that will clear away any symptoms from any of my potions if you are not satisfied with the effects," I read out loud, and I nearly snorted before adding, "At the end you also added 'Lame' in parenthesis?"
"It is lame," Vaisey said flatly. "And Bletchley told me to write it anyway. So, what do you say? Are you going to keep being lame or are you going to buy some Bottle of Bliss? There's Happy Hallucinations, too. You look like you could use it."
"No, no, I don't need any potions" I insisted as I shoved the blue vial back at him. "I'm perfectly happy—"
"Oh shut up," he retorted coolly as he refused to take the vial. "Even if it wasn't in the Prophet, we all know that You-Know-Who killed your brother a few months back. I'd been grieving too if Aaron died. Just take it. I'll give you a discount. Ten Sickles."
My lips pursed as I eyed the vial of tranquility. For months—no, for years I had tried to be strong, but now I was a Death Eater tasked with murdering Albus Dumbledore, and to survive I would need more than just mental will.
It was crazy how this time last year I'd been reprimanding Bletchley for even thinking about developing these potions, and now, here I was, purchasing one to use for my own sanity. Crazy what the death of a crush, a father, and a brother could do to a person. Crazy what giving up one's soul to the Dark Lord could do to a person...
"Fine," I sighed as I reached into my pocket. "Ten Sickles."
The events in this chapter correlate with The Half-Blood Prince Chapters Seven and Eight.