"I really don't see the appeal of those badges," I said, more to myself than to anyone else.
I was in the common room with Draco, Marcus and Lissy. Draco was lounging on an armchair, Lissy and I sat cross-legged on the couch facing each other, and Marcus sat on the floor next to me with his elbows on the center table. We were all working on our homework, and at the same time I was actively being a tutor.
I found a process that worked for me where they could ask me questions whenever they got confused, and when they finished I could check their work so they knew what they needed more studying on. Meanwhile, I could work on my homework and the extra essays for Professor Snape while I waited.
"They get on Potter's nerves, so they do their duty," Draco explained, keeping his eyes glued on his History of Magic essay about Merlin's accomplishments. "He likes the spotlight so much, he can have it."
I shrugged, not that he noticed. I felt a swelling of pride for how focused he was on his work, whereas in previous years it was difficult for him to not get distracted.
Then my eyes fixated on the back of Marcus' head, and it felt like I was burning holes into it. I wanted to peek into his brain to see for sure that Addy had told me the truth, but I knew my only option would be to patiently wait for the truth to be revealed. I could still remember Professor Dumbledore's warning to me when we first met about reading people's minds without their permission. There was no knowing if he could track that I was committing the act, so I wasn't about to act irrationally... not when it was about something that should've been insignificant to me.
It felt like I shouldn't care about what he was doing since I didn't reciprocate the same feelings he claimed to have toward me..... Well, that is the problem. If it's true, why couldn't he just break up with me for crying out loud? If he couldn't because he knew there was no other guaranteed way to stay in the good graces of the Dark Lord, then he's got another thing coming. It just proves that saying he loves me is a lie, and this whole relationship really is a hoax. Once the truth is revealed, I will make him feel sorry he ever crossed —
I quickly turned my attention back to my essay on alchemy versus potion brewing when Marcus lifted his head up, suddenly alert, and turned to look at me. He had to have felt my negative energy to stop what he was doing, so I tried to compose my thoughts into focusing on my work.
What am I thinking? I berated myself. I shouldn't be planning to do anything to him. It's not that serious.. then why am I itching for revenge?
I must've had a pissed off expression. When he gently tapped my leg, causing me to turn my gaze on him, his eyebrows were furrowed with worry. "Is everything okay?"
I forced a reassuring smile,"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"
He hesitated, "You look.. Upset."
"Oh.." I glanced at my essay for inspiration. "It's just that the next sentence of this essay seems to be... eluding me. Nothing to worry about."
With an uncertain nod, he turned back to his homework. I found myself impulsively glaring at the back of his skull again. Nothing to worry about, indeed... yet.
⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛
As I had suspected, Rita Skeeter had taken her story on Harry to a new extreme. Becky got the Daily Prophet from Draco the next day at breakfast, and read it to me.
"'I suppose I get my strength from my parents. I
know they'd be very proud of me if they could see
me now... Yes, sometimes at night I still cry
about them, I'm not ashamed to admit it... I
know nothing will hurt me during the tournament,
because they're watching over me...'"
And then she went even further than that!
'Harry has at last found love at Hogwarts. His close
friend, Colin Creevey, says that Harry is rarely seen
out of the company of one Hermione Granger, a
stunningly pretty Muggle-born girl who, like Harry,
is one of the top students in the school.'
"That's a new low..." I muttered. "Her stories already seem like obvious lies, but when you know the real truth behind them it shows just how ridiculous she is."
"The truth?" Becky asked curiously.
"Becky," I stated in annoyance. "Who in their right mind would ever tell a news reporter that they cry every night over their dead parents? No one!"
She placed her chin in her hands thoughtfully. "That's true... and Harry was only a year old when his parents died. He never knew them —"
"Exactly!" I interjected as Lissy and Trixy sat across the table from us.
Trixy tapped the table to get our attention. "Isn't that a bit of a stretch? If I were Harry Potter, I know I'd cry."
Becky snorted derisively, "The devil incarnate lies again! You've never cried a day in your life! Not even when I locked you in a dark room when you were two!"
Trixy beamed in response, mockingly sticking her tongue out at her sister.
I stared at Becky, "Should I be worried about what you've just admitted to?"
She slowly turned to glare at me, "That worries you? That was revenge... that's how long I've been suffering from her tyranny! What about when I told you that she once set up firecrackers next to my bed while I was sleeping?"
I put a hand to my mouth to stifle my laughter. I remembered her telling me the story before. Wizarding world firecrackers were like Muggle land mines. Set up the trap for an unsuspecting person, watch them step on it.. and as soon as they stepped off of it, whichever foot — or feet — went into contact with it were hexed to feel like they were set aflame.
Becky finished the story, "When I got up the next morning... all I heard were cracks before it felt like my feet were in flames for a whole two hours!"
Lissy tried as hard as I did to stifle her laughter, but in the end... it didn't work for either one of us as we helplessly doubled over the table.
"Not my fault you were a deep sleeper," Trixy joked.
I stared between them in disbelief, finally settling my attention onto Becky. "You a deep sleeper? I never thought I'd hear that as a solid description of you!"
"Oh, shut up Melody!" she snapped. "Believe it or not, but Trixy sleeps even less than I do while still having the constant energy and prank ideas!"
I didn't even turn to Trixy, I went straight to Lissy. "Have you ever seen Trixy sleep?"
"Not even once," Lissy admitted, staring at the sisters just as hard as I did. "I wish I'd thought to ask if it was genetic."
"Is it really that shocking?" Becky asked curiously.
Trixy moved her hands with fluid speed, "To be technical, the human body should be able to function off of only a few hours of sleep. Everyone else is always so tired because they sleep six or more hours, leaving their bodies in a consistently weakened state."
Lissy and I had no response for that. I'd always heard scientists say that a healthy human body always needed eight hours of sleep, but... Trixy and Becky proved to be some odd exceptions. We could only shrug wordlessly.
⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛
"The Dark Lord hasn't personally taught you any Dark Magic?" Barty asked as we walked through the Forbidden Forest for a wide enough clearing for training.
He practically bounced along with joy at the revelation of being in his own body after so many long weeks as 'Professor Moody.' His straw-colored hair swept back and forth as he energetically skipped through. His robes looked like more of a brown trenchcoat, but it was admittedly a good style for his skinny body structure. He carried two hoops in one hand and, considering his childish giddiness, I half expected him to use one for hula-hooping.
We had snuck away under the effects of my Disillusionment Charm. I only took it off once he was satisfied that we were safely out of sight from prying eyes.
"Only personal morals and such," I admitted. "I believe without being in his own body, he couldn't quite teach me the way he wanted to. So I never pressed him."
"Well," he said, licking his lips excitedly. "Lucky for you, I'm such a great teacher. By the end of today, you'll be so skilled that you can do any Dark spells you set your mind to."
I glanced at him in amusement. "Do you normally enjoy flattering yourself, Barty?"
He glanced over his shoulder at me with innocent eyes, "If I don't, then who will?"
I observed the lack of foliage of the trees above me in thought, the leaves mostly gone but for a few remaining tough brown ones. "I suppose you have a point there," I said with a wry smile, imagining Barty as one of the remaining brown leaves... steadfast in his loyalty and belief in my father. I could even say that I was secretly admiring that about him.
"Here's perfect," he said, bringing my line of sight back down to earth.
It was a very wide clearing, one I almost hadn't suspected even existed in the thick forest. The number of clearings I had ever been brought to weren't even nearly half the size of the one Barty found.
"What your father wishes you to learn is Apparition," he said, throwing one hoop down and then taking a deliberate number of steps away before throwing the other one down. "And not just the usual Apparition, but how to do it silently."
"Silence is an option?" I asked, eyebrows furrowed.
He gave a knowing look, "Of course... for those that are willing to use Apparition with the intent of dark purposes."
I'm going to regret this, aren't I? I thought wryly, realizing I'd have to use Dark Magic to prove myself trustworthy... as well as learn how to Apparate without earning a license for it despite perfecting it. "How's that?" I asked.
"Imagine yourself as an assassin, right? You can't assassinate someone if they hear you coming, so you must follow through with the intent that they not even hear a measly pop... But let's not get ahead of ourselves here." Barty gestured to the two hoops he had set up at least thirty feet away from each other. "You need to practice Apparating from one hoop to the other. To do that, you need to have absolute focus as you literally spin yourself into the other hoop."
I swallowed a lump in my throat as I went to stand in a hoop, "Okay... okay...."
He licked his lips as he cocked his head to one side, "Why do you look nervous, princess?"
Suspicious already? We haven't even gotten to the Dark Magic part yet! "I.. I — um..." I don't want to tell him why I'm hesitating, but what else can I really tell him? That I am worried I'm not strong enough to help my father..? No, no, no, then I would definitely be considered weak and incompetent.
"You shouldn't be nervous about Dark Magic. That has to be one of the major subjects you should know as the Dark Lord's daughter —"
"No, it — it's not that.." I sighed, realizing I had to be honest with him about the one thing I hate. "It's just.... Ugh, Apparition makes me sick."
He looked so confused, it would've been hilarious if I wasn't so nervous. "You... don't like it?"
"No, it makes me sick. So sick, in fact, that I need to vomit."
He was silent a moment as he contemplated what I was saying... then he burst into laughter. "You — you get Apparition sickness?! Ah, that's brilliant that is!"
I glared at him, "Well, I'm glad you're so amused by it. But that doesn't help me."
"Agh, don't be so stiff about it," he said, a surprisingly encouraging smile on his lips as he went to stand behind me. "Close your eyes and relax," he whispered, deeply massaging my shoulders with his fingertips.
I was tense at first contact, but eventually I relaxed my muscles until I actually had a calm state of mind to feel safe enough in his presence to allow myself to close my eyes. The only light I could see was that of the sun trying to burn through my eyelids.
He released me, and I heard him take a few steps back before he continued. "Now focus on the hoop over there. Don't actually look at it, just remember how it looks in your head... remember where it is in the clearing... focus your thoughts only on getting over there."
I formed the hoop in my mind's eye, only a short distance away from me compared to all the possible places I could go in the world.
"Now," Barty continued, "spin your body while still focusing on that hoop. Imagine spinning right into it, and — to top it off for extra credit — imagine that there is someone at that hoop that you want to surprise."
With one deep breath, my mind focused on the hoop and on the forced thought of Marcus being there with his back turned toward me — unaware of my impending presence to catch him in his possible misdeeds... to make him regret it. The thought actually made me smile as I split my focus perfectly in half.
I spun around three times and felt the familiar sickness hit my stomach. I had to force myself to choke it down so as not to make a costly mistake.
Admittedly, despite the need to throw up, there was also a pleasurable feeling of electricity coursing through my blood. It was short-lived, but my body still tingled when I finished.
I stopped spinning and opened my eyes. I had actually landed in the hoop on the other side of the clearing, and Barty waved at me next to the hoop I had just left.
I held a hand to my mouth in an attempt to hold back the need to empty my full stomach. I shouldn't have eaten before coming here, I thought, tasting the bile building up at the back of my throat.
"You are a quick learner," Barty said with a mischievous smile, walking over to stand in the space between the hoops. "I didn't hear a pop, and you avoided the usual splinch. Keep going. Extra practice leads to it becoming second nature!"
"And hopefully to stop getting queasy," I said as I Apparated silently back to the other hoop, holding my hand to my mouth again.
He chuckled, obviously enjoying how sick I was starting to feel.
I Apparated again "You know wha —? Ughh.." I held back a vomit. "I don't think I need any more practice. You're just torturing me!"
His smile never went away, "Well, princess, torture is one of my few enjoyable hobbies. The Imperius Curse wouldn't work on you in class, so I'm glad I found something."
Out of pure revenge, I Apparated behind him. "Oh yeah?" he flinched, spinning toward me with mild surprise.. very mild. I held back another vomit attempt, "Well.. mmph... now I've learned it. On to the next one."
With one small smirk, he regained what little composure he'd lost. "One more lesson for the day then, and that'll be the energy stealing spell. Repeat after me.. Foo-ra."
I mimicked his pronunciation, "Foo-ra."
"Vee-zay."
"Vee-zay."
"There you go. Fura Visé.
"Fura Visé."
"That one can be done without a wand... that is if you're capable enough."
I crossed my arms across my chest, realizing he was testing the lengths of the humility I'd foolishly shown that night we were searching for the Resurrection potion. "Is there really any doubt?"
His grin widened, "For a dark spell, any dark spell as you saw with the silent Apparition, you need to possess the malicious intent to make it work... Think of someone you would wish harm to."
I put my chin on my hand in fake thought. "I'm not sure I can think of anyone in particular.."
He stared at me, as if he were partially dubious and mostly confused. "Not even Potter?"
I almost laughed at how he spat the boy's name, but I kept it in and rolled my eyes instead. As I opted to stretch my arms out, I said, "I bear him no ill will.
He snarled, "He nearly killed your father, the most powerful Dark Wizard alive!"
That did it. I laughed so hard my sides hurt.
"Why are you laughing?" he all but screeched.
"Him? Him as a baby — haha — nearly killing dad? Barty, you're a riot!"
His face went red, "What am I missing?!"
I took a few deep breaths in the attempt to stop laughing, looking at him with a few laughs still escaping. "Hehe, what was he going to do? Heh, smack him to death with a rattler?"
He crossed his arms with a pout, turning away from me, "You know what I'm talking about, dammit."
I tightened my hand into a fist and put in my mouth to hold back another barrage of laughs. For him to be a skilled Dark Wizard, I would've never expected to see him pout like a little kid.
I forced a calm composure, allowing only a smile before I put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, I know he's my dad's enemy due to whatever prophecy tied their fates together.... But, in the end, that's a battle between the two of them. I personally have no vendetta against the boy."
Barty swiped my hand off his shoulder with a scowl. "His enemies are your enemies. You would do well to learn that."
I made a face like I was thinking about it before I shrugged. "Not really."
"Not really?" he repeated questionably.
"Nope," I replied simply.
"And what might be your deductive reasoning for that?"
"Think of it this way... as much as you and the rest of his devoted followers want to hate Potter for his downfall, where's it really going to get you? If I also bear ill tidings to him, he'll be dead before dad even gets a hold of him."
He finally looked at me with piqued interest. "What's so wrong about that?"
"Dad wants him dead by his hands only..." I said, hoping it was making sense to the practically insane man before me. "This is our fourth year at this school. Imagine how many opportunities I've had to kill him, myself, but I haven't out of respect for dad."
"If you had just done it, he would have nothing to worry about and you would have the highest praise."
I snorted, placing my hand on his shoulder again. "Not quite. I'd be dead for harming even the hair on his head. Fair warning for you as to why he wants you to teach him well, and assist him through the tasks so he gets to him in one piece."
He walked away slightly from my grasp, leaving me to drop my hand to my side.
"That is just so he can be used for the potion, nothing more," he growled. "Because if he still makes it back in one piece, I'll kill him myself. Then I'll be the Dark Lord's most trusted Death Eater and you —" he pointed dramatically at me, "will be catering to me."
No, you'll be dead, I thought with a sigh. Funny how he's basically threatening that I'll be a slave, and it just isn't fazing me. I know it won't work the way he thinks it will, but I should at least be pissed, right?
"A sigh? That's all you have for me?" he asked pompously.
"A threat is only serious if you can back it up with something concrete, and..." I looked him up and down, "you don't possess that."
"I'll show you how well I can carry out my threats..." he promised softly, walking over so close that he stared down at me.
I grinned, feeling the amount of power he felt he had over me. His emotions had skyrocketed to such a level that I didn't even have to try to look into his mind... he wanted to make me nervous.
Malicious intent is supposed to work, right? I thought, wanting nothing more than to take his cockiness down a peg. Without thinking more about it, I placed both of my hands on his chest and whispered, "Fura Visé."
A surge of the now familiar energy shot up my arms from my fingertips. It felt as though it was traveling through my blood at high speed, filling me up until it had made it to the top of my head and the soles of my feet.
Barty's legs buckled from underneath him, and he gave me one baffled look before crumbling to the ground in front of me.
Not only did I feel absolutely exhilarated at the feeling of his energy flowing quickly through me... but I could also sense the darkness that came with it. It not only came from the magic I just used, but it was also in the energy I had stolen from him. Deep, alluring and intoxicating darkness. So much so, I felt my own grin grow wider as I looked down on him.
"Show me more," I demanded.
After his initial shock, he grinned back at me. "To do that, princess, I need my energy back."
I pouted irritably, "But your energy feels freaking amazing, Barty."
He gestured his hand in a 'give it back' motion. "Precisely. I worked hard for that energy, and it's time you received your own. You've earned that ability."
I actually smiled excitedly at the compliment... at least, what Barty considered a compliment.
⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛ ⚯͛
I was in the library with Harry and Hermione later that day — I know, I know, why was Harry there? He's never there! He and Ron were still not speaking, so that left Hermione to juggle spending separate time with each of them than she could muster.
In the end, though, I could have cared less about the fact that wonder boy was studying with us while Becky and the twins were off doing God knows what. I wasn't even worried about that! I also barely registered Hermione's rants about Viktor Krum and the gaggle of girls that would loudly follow him through the library.
"He's not even good-looking," she'd muttered angrily.
My thoughts basically left Harry to suffer through her complaints all by himself.
All I could agonize about was my lesson with Barty, and the fact that I could barely stop myself from the joy of practicing the forbidden magic he was teaching me.
I had been out there with him for hours up until he had to tell me it was time to quit. He still had duties to attend to with Professor Dumbledore, plus staff meetings.
After the energy stealing spell, he'd taught me one of dad's personal creations: broomless flight. That one was definitely fun. It was like... like the power flowing through me was covering me in a heat that couldn't be quenchable. I enjoyed the feeling of the black smoke that surrounded me like a thundercloud, to fly without the uncomfortability of the wood of a broomstick between my legs.
Of course Dark Magic made me feel powerful, I should've reigned in my feelings when I felt that! Shame, shame, shame! As an heir of Slytherin and daughter to the most fearsome Dark Lord of all time, of course I'm more attuned to it than anyone else....
I couldn't help but think about it. With my magic matching my dad's, I had the same capability to become powerful. It's just.. would the darkness consume me?
Is there a way for me to be a good person, and yet also be strong with Dark Magic?.. Mom must have done it somehow. She told me that dad became interested in her for her strong affinity with the Dark Arts, but she must have been strong enough to overcome the evil in order to be who she is today. Could I possibly learn how to do this sort of magic from her? But how would I ask her without it sounding suspicious? Dammit, this is difficult..
"Melody," Hermione gently interrupted my inner confusion, "are you all right?"
I looked up at her and Harry. She was worried about me, but Harry seemed to be more invested in his own personal problems than anything else.
"Yes... I'm.. I'm fine..." I said rather unconvincingly. I then stood up, mumbling, "I got to go," and left the library.