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SIXTEEN
——DEVIL, DEVIL
EFFIE FELT LIKE SHE FUCKED UP AGAIN WHEN SHE ENDED UP IN THIS STATE OF PARANOIA, THE RED DOOR STARING HER DOWN MALICIOUSLY.
"Everyone has it, but no one can have it, what is it?"
She reached out to open the door—why did her subconscious tell her about an open door—and noticed the shadows rippling the ground beside her. And it clicked for Effie. "A shadow."
"Took you long enough," The same voice that torment her rang out, followed by a bitter, loud laugh. "But too long now, Lillian. I'm afraid what you're looking for won't come back."
The coffin materializes in front of her, "No," Effie whispers, angry tears burning her eyes as she dropped down next to the coffin. "No, no, I—who—"
The moment the coffin door swung open, Effie was greeted by a lifeless Pansy Parkinson, her eyes a murky white. She was in her dress robes from the Yule Ball, but her olive skin was pale as can be.
"What did—What did you do?!" Effie sobbed, grabbing Pansy by the shoulders. "What the hell did you do?!"
"You were taking so long," The voice mocked her. "So I had some fun. I apologize for drowning her, though. I got carried away."
Effie sobbed angrily as she began to do chest compressions, but each time, Pansy looked more dead. Fuck, if she couldn't save Pansy in her dreams, then how the hell would Effie save her in real life if it were to happen?
A whimper catches her attention, and then a loud chopping noise. There was a shrill scream as the rolling object came to stop at her feet, Pretzel's wide unblinking—Effie realizes the scream was her.
"Who are you?" Effie snapped, backing away as she looked around, glaring. "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"
There was a dark chuckle. "Don't you see, Effie? I am you. I am everything you'd never choose to be. I am the monster within that you hide behind that glorious, morally noble, calm facade. I am the violence, I am the side of you that your vast interest in the dark arts created. I'm here—always been here to show you that true evil always comes from the pure goodness. You ruin everything you touch—"
She jumped awake, falling out of bed and grabbed the inhaler, hastily puffing it in her mouth. Effie glanced at Pansy's bed, and with a sigh, realized that Pansy was fine, she was breathing, safe in their dorm. She was fine.
Effie rubbed a hand over her face, seeing that it was the last day before term starts up again. She got up, freshening up before wrapping the scarf around her neck, clad in a new sweater and leggings.
Another walk could clear her head, she thinks, her hand in her bag, wrapped tightly around the half-full bottle of amphetamines. You can't take the pill again—you can't, you promised.
The corridors were empty as she wandered around. The other students must've been taking over their homeworks that'd been neglected during the holidays—Effie was thankful she'd finished all of hers.
Not much could be said for the Second Task. If it was underwater, then a simple Warming Charm and a Bubble-Head Charm would suffice.
There has to be a way she could sleep without worrying about dying in it—sleeping pills and the sleeping draught was out of the question—if I went on like this then I probably wouldn't survive past the Final Task.
Effie raised an eyebrow at an open door by the end of the hallway, drawing closer. She recognized it as Moody's office. . . but why the hell would he leave it open? Effie's not always been a nosy person, but there were exceptions if she wanted to prove she wasn't crazy.
Come to think of it, you've been suspicious about him since the first day. Effie breathes out, making sure she's still alone before creeping inside.
The office was a hell lot of contrast from when it was Remus Lupin that occupied it. Where warmth had been, was replaced by several knickknacks and cheap dark wizard-finding devices. There were books scattered here and there. . . the strange thing was, a flask stood on the desk.
Effie had a brief flashback about the flask he always drank from, before carefully picking it up. Bloody hell, you're supposed to be the moral and noble one, what in the bloody hell are you doing? A peculiar, mud-colored liquid was inside the flask, from what Effie could see.
She brought it up to her nose, sniffing it—couldn't be. . . ? Merlin, you must be hallucinating again, "Impossible," She whispers to herself. There was no way it could be Polyjuice Potion.
Her head snapped up and Effie tensed up as she hears the familiar clunk of uneven footsteps coming from a distance. She grabbed her wand, casting the Disillusionment Charm on herself, forced to put down the flask as Moody appeared in the doorway.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit—His magical eye drifts around the room as Effie carefully snuck around him, swearing to god she's barely even breathing until she was out. And when she was out, Effie ran. The disillusionment charm wore off by the time she reached the bend of the hallway, turning down a random path and regretting it.
"Fuck," She panted, keeling over. She dug out her inhaler, puffing it in her mouth and sagged with instant relief.
"You alright?"
Effie gasps, almost shouting out until she realized it's Ginny. Should I tell. . . ? Effie grabbed Ginny's wrist, gesturing for the girl to keep quiet as Effie dragged the redhead down to the kitchens. I should tell her, I'd lose my mind even more if I keep it. I need to know I'm not crazier than I already seem.
"You can't tell anyone if I tell you," Effie says to Ginny, once they're finally in the safety of the kitchens. "Please."
"I won't, I promise," Ginny swore, confused by Effie's attitude.
"I was in Moody's office," Effie admitted, watching Ginny's brows raise in surprise. "Yes, I'm supposed to be the moral compass, the noble one, but I've been suspicious, Ginny. . . " I've been having these nightmares that began the first day I met him but that'd make me seem crazier. "I don't know if I was hallucinating, but I swear to god, I smelt Polyjuice Potion. Please, please don't tell me I'm insane or—"
"I don't think you are," Ginny cuts in, there was no lie in her words. Pansy wouldn't have believed her easily. "Crazy, I mean. But why would Moody have Polyjuice in his office?"
That's the thing, I don't know. "Maybe—Maybe, I don't know, maybe he's using it for someone else, or—or maybe he's not who he says he is."
"Okay," Ginny grabbed Effie's shoulders. "Breathe, smell the roses, blow the candles. Now, if Moody isn't Moody, then—then who could he be?"
"I don't know," Effie shakes her head. "But—But there's also another thing. Snape and Karkaroff are death eaters, following the events of the Quidditch World Cup, what if—what if. . . no, it doesn't fit—" She turned away, biting on her nails as she paced. From what Effie observed, Karkaroff and Snape were obviously trying to avoid Moody when he was there. "I don't know, Ginny, I just, I know I smelt Polyjuice Potion."
Ginny sat down, watching Effie pace as her mind calculated and raced. "I'm listening, Effie. I don't think you're crazy, okay?"
✨
EFFIE WATCHED, WITH WIDE EYES, AS GINNY FINALLY ARRIVED IN THE KITCHEN, AROUND EIGHT O'CLOCK IN THE EVENING. "Sorry about that, I got detention from Moody. I had help from Luna, though."
"What?" Effie says sharply, her eyebrows furrowing. But Ginny told her she was going in the library to get books about water plants. . .
Ginny nodded, presenting a flask in front of Effie. What the fuck, it was the same one she saw that morning. Effie grabbed it, expecting to smell Polyjuice—to her chagrin, it turned out to be fire whiskey.
"It's not—It's not—" Ginny smelt it too, and both girls looked dejected at the prospect. "But I swear I smelt Polyjuice earlier! Maybe—Maybe he switched it out, maybe he knew I'd be suspicious, maybe—" maybe you're hallucinating again. Effie clasped her shaking hands together, bringing it up to cover her face. "No scent, no. . . no Polyjuice Potion. I'm sorry, Ginny. I got you in trouble for—for nothing."
"Hey, no," Ginny grabbed back both of Effie's hands. She shook her head vigorously, "It was there, alright? You knew it, you smelt it. And. . . And look, if you wanted to, I'd go back to that office right now, and I'd search for the Polyjuice Potion all night just to prove it."
"You're just saying that because rumors said you've had a crush on me since first grade," Effie's voice cracked, and cursed herself.
The tips of Ginny's ears redden, and gripped both of Effie's hands tighter. "Effie, I meant what I said back when you first got chosen as a champion. I'd always believe you, because you'd never lie about this."
I'm a liar, Effie wanted to say, looking at Ginny with an unreadable expression, although her eyes were glossy. I lie about a lot of things.
✨
EFFIE DIDN'T LIKE UNICORNS. She preferred the way Hagrid teaches, unlike the substitute professor, Grubbly-Plank, despite how reckless Hagrid could be sometimes.
It didn't help that she was also running on a damn head cold that day, constantly blowing tissues and having to use her inhaler twice as much because her chest was too heavy for her to try and breathe through it.
She plucked a beetle from her hair irritably, grabbing the nearest object—which happened to be the copy of Daily Prophet that day, which was in Potter's grip—and rolled it up, smacking the beetle violently with it multiple times and scowled, shoving the newspaper back to Goyle so she could sneeze in peace.
"What d'you mean, we all hate Hagrid?" Potter snarled at Draco, as if Effie hadn't just grabbed the newspaper. "What's this rubbish about him—" he pointed at Crabbe "—getting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven't even got teeth!"
Crabbe was sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself. Effie, annoyed with how fucking loud everything was that it felt like each noise was hammering in her head, glared at Crabbe, "Could you please laugh quietly or just shut your mouth? You're making my head hurt!"
"Then piss off, Stark," Crabbe snapped back.
"Watch it," Draco thumped Crabbe upside the head in Effie's defense, then turned back to Potter. "Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf's teaching career," Draco continued, his eyes glinting. "Half-giant. . . and there was me thinking he'd just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young. . . None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all. . . They'll be worried he'll eat their kids, ha, ha. . . "
"Come on," Pansy grabbed Effie around the shoulders, trying not to laugh at Hagrid's demise for Effie's sake. "All this testosterone isn't good for you."
"Glad to know that my sleep paralysis demon is here to save the day," Effie said, causing Pansy to snort.
On a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January, Pansy and Ginny managed to persuade Effie to going. "I'm an artwork," Pansy professed with a newfound confidence that stemmed from Effie. "Also, if cows ruled the world, would they drink human milk?"
People looked at them strangely, causing Ginny to duck her head and Effie to grab Pansy around the waist, shooting people apologetic smiles. "Excuse her, please. She's a work in progress."
"Merlin, Pansy, that was. . . humiliating," Effie cringed once they were far away enough.
Pansy scoffs, "You're my bestfriend. You're supposed to deal with the secondhand embarrassment. They can fuck off if they can't stand it."
"Admit it, Pansy, you're just too judgmental," Ginny scoffs, crossing her arms.
"Or everyone is just annoying," Pansy humored, unbothered. Effie and Ginny shared a look, pursing their lips to not laugh. They hadn't let Pansy in on their little sleuthing about Moody, besides, Pansy was spending more time with Theo anyway.
(Effie applauds herself for being a matchmaker—at least Pansy has a better blond boy now.)
She was grateful for Pretzel's scarf, it kept her warm without needing a warming charm or even bundling up her sweaters. People were glancing at Pansy twice—probably because of her shiny, curly hair (it suited Pansy better than straight hair, if she was being honest).
Pansy, of course, was basking in it as they walked into Honeydukes so Effie could stock up on her neon green lollipops and glazed pineapples. "You should be like me."
"We're not all sluts," Ginny retaliates with a roll of her eyes as Effie coughed from the cold. She looked at the blonde, concerned, "You sure you wouldn't want a cough drop?"
Effie shakes her head, "Pineapple juice is actually five hundred percent more effective than cough drops because fresh pineapples contain a specific enzyme with anti-inflammatory characteristics that can combat infections and eradicate bacteria," She paused, and then shyly glanced at Ginny, who was (surprisingly for Effie) listening with an intrigued expression. "It's called Bromelain."
"Mum would be delighted to know," Ginny says with a slight grin and bright eyes. Pansy had wandered over to a chest of Swiss White Chocolates—unsurprisingly for Effie.
"She babbled about pineapples again?" Pansy inquires as she passed by, clutching a handful of chocolates and moved over to get rice crispies. "She loves pineapples, I swear."
"They're helpful," Effie defends softly. "Not unlike the generic cough drops you'd choose over. You know bacterias become more immune to that cough drops the more you take it? So there'll come a day it won't work anymore."
"You're such a nerd," Pansy says with a fond grin. "It's a shame people might call you names if they find how smart you really are."
"Well if you ask me, you balance each other out," Ginny says, shrugging as she picked up some chocolate frogs and sugar quills. "Like two sides of the same coin. Beauty—" She points to Pansy, "—and brains, but beauty applies too."
Pansy rolled her eyes, "Good thing no one asked, Poindexter."
Effie snorts, and coughed to hide it. "Pansy's just selective about what she learns."
"And this is why we're bestfriends," Pansy grinned at Effie, who smiled back. "So can we please hurry your cute, little arses up so we can pay, and then sit down?"
Once the three girls finally got to the Three Broomsticks after mere minutes of pushing through the bustling crowd, they were immediately approached by Potter. Pansy sneers as Potter looked at Effie, "Could I talk to you?" Then, glancing at Pansy, "Alone?"
Pansy sneered, "Absolutely no—"
Ginny interferes, pushing Pansy over with a smile, "She means absolutely. Hiya, Harry."
"Hello, Ginny," Potter nods, a small smile on his lips. Effie looked on, amused.
"Move your arse, Pansy," Ginny hissed at the brunette. "We'll save you a seat, Effie. Pineapple juice?"
"Yes, thank you," Effie smiled, nodding and resisted the urge to laugh as Ginny literally dragged Pansy to a table. "What is it, Potter?"
He gently grabbed her arm, moving them to private nook. "Did Mr. Bagman try to talk to you about the Second Task as well?"
"He talked to you?" Effie raised an eyebrow. That conniving little cockroach. . . whatever it was must do something with gambling.
Potter nods, "Yeah, just then."
"Well," Effie placed her hands in the pockets of her plum double-breasted coat. "If he bothers you again, you can take it up to me. I still have leverage over him, you know."
"That's. . . not what I wanted to talk about," He winced. Effie raised an eyebrow as if to say what is it then, he looked like he was about to ask her to commit a crime or something. "He was also consorting with goblins, he told me," Effie's brows raise. "They were looking for Mr. Crouch, said he hasn't been coming in lately and Percy—one of Ginny's brothers—had been standing in his place."
"And you want me to ask my dad if he knows something?" Effie concludes.
Potter grimaced, "Er—not necessarily—"
"Correct, not necessary," Effie interjects with a slight smirk. "All I know is that he's been gambling with the goblins. He's a gambling man, didn't I say? His last business was with the goblins—he tried persuading my dad to help me—and I suppose whatever efforts he's been giving to help you must be for it. A game with goblins is a dangerous one, Potter," Effie enlightened him. "But I can't explain for Crouch because dad doesn't want anything to do with him. Does that answer any question you have?"
"Y—Yes. . . thanks," He stammers.
Effie pats his shoulder, "Good, glad to help," Then she paused, "That reminds me. . . if you haven't figured out your egg by then, listen to it submerged in water." With a polite, parting smile, Effie strode past him, towards Ginny and Pansy, who were bickering again.
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