CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN:
lucky strike — maroon 5
( 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝟏𝟔 )
"Oi, Darling."
Meredith, who's mind was preoccupied with other less important matters, merely hummed and forced herself to return her attention to her rather vexed duelling partner, Dean Thomas ( Seamus would have been his first choice of partner but unfortunately the poor boy had taken ill from breakfast ).
There would be time to dwell over the matter later after their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Severus Snape. She smiled lopsidedly and answered with the utmost confidence she could muster, "Alright, Deanie, you've got my full attention now." The much taller boy chuckles and rolls his eyes playfully, Charmer.
They were tasked to practice jinxing and defending against one another without speaking; Meredith had obviously never tried it out before ( hardly even got to use magic last year, let alone non-verbal spells ) but as Snape had aptly put it, it was a matter of "concentration and mind power" which she was quite certain she could master with some practice. He raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, wand gripped tightly in his hand. Ah, so he must want her to take the plunge first.
After a moment's thought, she decided on something funny ( she did like to entertain after all, even if it were just a second year spell ): Rictumsempra. The charm that would hopefully defeat your hated enemies by tickling them. She never fully understood the use of it in actual battle ( especially now that she had participated in one ), but it would be rather hilarious to see Dean suddenly bend over in peals of laughter. Now, it was a matter of "concentration and mind power", two hopelessly vague concepts which in would no way allow them to fully grasp the concept of nonverbal spells. Lovely, what a fantastic teacher Snape was turning out to be.
Rictumsempra. She let the word roll around in her mind, filling every creek and crevice, as if her head was an empty basin meant to be filled with sheer knowledge and power; nothing seemed to happen. She wobbled the wand in her hand a little, wondering if it was broken or she was merely incompetent. C'mon, Meredith, she goaded herself, chewing on the inside of her cheek, just focus on the words, and the meaning, and the magic behind all that. Just like you'd do when you say all those complicated spells aloud.
"Any day now, Ms. Darling." Came Snape's gravelly and monotonous voice from somewhere behind her; Meredith was about to snap at him ( Merlin, could the git just leave her alone for a moment! ) but she decided to just get on with her life and prove to him that she could do it so she raised her wand defiantly and nearly jumped out of her skin when a silver spark shoots out from the tip of her wand all of a sudden and Dean begins to giggle uncontrollably. Some of the others in the class stop attempting for a moment just to watch the well over six foot boy bend over, clutching his sides.
"Oh, look at that." Asshole, was what she wanted to add, but Snape had the decency to look embarrassed enough already, sending her a look of contempt before sweeping off, his black cloak billowing behind him. She sighed and hastily cast the counter-charm, which must've caught Dean off guard for he toppled over in a heap.
"Hey, what was that, just now?" After a few more tries of attempting to non-verbally jinx one another ( Dean got on it his fifth try and sent Meredith flying across the room, landing right on Lavender Brown, who shrieked like a Banshee ), Snape had eventually terminated the class and hurried them out of his classroom with the threat of docking fifty points from each house.
Meredith had taken off almost immediately in hopes of arriving at Potion's early to get a feel on what sort of teacher Slughorn was, but Dean ( with his damnably lanky legs ) had easily caught up to her, matching her quick pace. She sighed in response, slowing down to catch her breath, "What was what, just now? Harry's 'sir' comment? Because that was extremely hilarious—"
He sent her a questioning look, cutting off the longwinded attempt to change the subject, "It was funny, but you know what I'm talking about, Meredith." She did, but she wasn't about to go telling just about anyone what was running through her mind a million times over just yet, so she merely answered, careful with her words, "It's alright. I was just...a little distracted with all the changes happening."
Dean seemed not entirely convinced, but he let it slide with a shrug and slipped off to check on Seamus who had probably recovered from the episode this morning ( "Send him my love and remind him not to eat anything that looks explosive in nature anymore!" ), leaving Meredith alone with her thoughts again. She decided not to let them wander and hastily made her way down to the dungeons for her first Potions lesson with Professor Slughorn.
"Sorry that I'm so awfully early—" Meredith had called out as she kicked open the heavy wooden door of the classroom and was greeted with the wonderful aroma of the fresh open air, with just a hint of...mint? The sharp cooling scent tingled her nose as she wondered what he had diffused to make the once stale and putrid dungeon smell this good.
The same stout man from the night before ( now dressed in worn brown robes ), greeted her warmly, his hands extended in welcome, "Ah, that's alright. Always good to be on task, especially in a class as demanding as N.E.W.Ts levels potions. Now, since you're early, you can have your pick of the seats unless you'd rather sit next to...What was your name again, my boy?"
Meredith turned on her heel to where Slughorn was now gesturing at and the smile she had plastered on her lips fell; Draco Malfoy sat on a stool tucked away in the corner of the classroom, alone. His steel grey eyes met hers briefly before he regained his cool and disdained composure, "It's Malfoy, sir. Draco Malfoy."
Slughorn merely hummed in response, already disinterested, and focused his attention back on Meredith who was busy looking anywhere but where the blonde was perched, "Now, do take a seat...if I recall correctly, Ms. Darling?" How did the old man even know her name? "I take note of all the exceptional students in my class, and you happen to be one of them, Ms. Darling."
She couldn't contain her proud smile as she answered, "Thank you, Professor. I think I'll sit over there and wait for my friends." She could hear Draco scoff quietly somewhere in the background but she took no note of it and flounced over to the other side of the classroom, as far away from him as possible.
The rest of the class slowly shuffled in over fifteen minutes. As the clock ticked to a new hour, everyone had taken a seat ( she moved her stack of books for Hermione to sit ), and Slughorn was about to begin his lesson, when the door banged open and a frazzled Harry and Ron stumbled through. Meredith sent a quizzical look to Hermione, who could only shrug in response. From what she had recalled, Harry and Ron hadn't met the requirement for this class ( Harry was pretty bummed about it as it meant that his dreams of being an Auror were crushed ), but she supposed that the strict 'O's only requirement would have been relaxed without Snape in charge.
He began the class by ushering them to gather at the front of the class, where they stood huddled around a few cauldrons. The aroma she had smelled when she first arrived seemed to come from the steam billowing out of the smaller one. "I have prepared a few potions for you too look at. You've probably heard of them before, even if you haven't—and you shouldn't have—made them yet. Now, who can tell me what's in this one?"
Meredith had to tiptoe a little to peer into the cauldron but she recognised it almost immediately. Veritaserum, the same potion Umbridge had threatened all of them with the semester before. Hermione was quick to shoot her hand in the air and correctly name the potion. Her eyes slide over to the second one, but she couldn't tell what the slowly bubbling mud-like solution was meant to be ( it turned out to be Polyjuice Potion ) and the third one she can only guess to be Felix Felicis.
"Well Ms. Granger, let's give the others a chance to answer a question shall we?" Slughorn laughed light-heatedly at Hermione who tries to raise her hand once again. His eyes swept over the group of them before landing on Meredith, "Ms. Darling, would you like to tell us what this one is?"
"Oh," she squeaked, caught off-guard. Meredith had to clear her throat as she took another whiff of the strong aroma, overwhelmed by the sheer attractiveness of it, "It's Amortentia, isn't it? Smells different for everyone depending on who they find attractive or who they love." A flurry of excited whispers broke out amongst the other students, but Slughorn raised his voice over the din and beams, "Well done, Ms. Darling. Now, would you mind sharing what it is you smell?"
Merlin, no, she swore silently in her head, but instead she fixed her smile and answered pleasantly, "Of course." No matter how embarrassing it was to tell your entire class what smelled attractive to you, it would allow her to get on Slughorn's good side. Which would be an excellent thing as Meredith wasn't particularly fantastic at potions and now that she lacked a proper tutor, she feared that she would struggle through the year.
So she answers confidently, "Fresh open air, mint..." She leaned forward to take a stronger whiff of the strong smelling steam, "Citrus lemon. Oh! it's actually..." She pauses for a moment, face pinking at her realisation, before scrambling to rectify her mistake, "Just citrus lemon." The class laughed at her blunder but quickly refocused their attention on Slughorn who had begun to discuss the task for the day: brewing the Draught of Living Death.
"I'll reward the best potion at the end of the hour with this," He picked up a small golden vial between his pudgy fingers, "vial of Liquid Luck, as Ms. Granger has correctly identified."
Meredith had no real need for any Felix Felicis but she was determined to win it anyways so she hurried back to her stool once Slughorn had dismissed them and had hastily flipped open her copy of Advanced Potion Making to the page titled in big typewritten letters: The Draught of Living Death. Harry, who was seated beside her, frowned at his battered and scribbled on book, but Meredith hardly took note of it as she scampered off in search of the ingredients which she had memorised already ( "It's game on, Potter!" ).
"I hate this." Meredith groaned after her fifth attempt to cut into the ridiculously springy beans, tossing her knife down into the board in frustration. She may not have been especially fantastic at Potions but there was no way that she was this terrible. She glanced over to Harry, only to see that he somehow was ahead of the rest of the table. Hermione was beginning to look frazzled as she slammed her knife down onto the bean which bounced away. Meredith huffed; she would not let Harry Potter, boy who sometimes tripped over his untied shoelaces, get ahead of her.
"Hey Harry," She called out, learning toward his workbench, the most sickly sweet smile on her lips, "I have no idea how to do this. Help me with it?"
Harry, unaware of her blatant manipulation, flushed a little as he nodded dumbly, "Yeah, sure." To which Meredith beamed and replied with a, "Thanks a whole lot! You have no idea how grateful I am right now." It would not only help her get her potion right but also substantially slow down the boy who seemed to be speeding through the process.
"Oh, so that's how you do it. I owe you, Potter." Meredith distractedly answered as Harry finished crushing the remainder of the necessary beans; now, it was time to get back to work to beat the boy who only had an 'E' for potions and yet was somehow better than her. As the hour pulled to a close, and Slughorn began to stroll around the class, peering into their cauldrons ( or what remained of them ). Meredith's Draught of Living Death was still a lilac tone which wouldn't even have hurt a fruit fly. Unfortunately, 'cutting the beans' was not the only thing that the book had gotten wrong and it would take a lot more than one helping hand to get it right.
Yet somehow, Harry had brewed the perfect Draught, and now had Slughorn fawning over what a genius he was while he handed the boy the small vial of Felix Felicis. The whole class, in different states on disarray, watched with jealously as Harry pocketed it. Meredith huffed, blowing a strand of loose hair from her face; sixth year was not turning out to be all that great.
When Meredith was left alone again, she finally let her plastered smile drop. There was no one to pretend for anymore; it was just her, alone with her morbid thoughts and fears.
She let her mind drift to her conversation with Dean from before as she strolled down the empty hallway, running the tips of her fingers along the stone crevices. It wasn't exactly a lie, because a lot had changed recently, but she knew that it would save her from having to genuinely answer ( she supposed this was what made her so Slytherin ). But the truth was far more terrifying a thought than the changes abound.
The truth that Pansy Parkinson, of all people, had laid bare.
"Up so late, Darling?" Meredith cringed as she heard the voice; Pansy had been sitting straight-backed against the backboard of her four-poster bed, eyes boring into Meredith, even in the darkness of their dormitory.
"Just needed some water. Couldn't sleep." Once again, it wasn't a total lie. She had had some water; splashed it all over the face over and over again, hoping to drown the awful demons that lurked in her dreams. But Meredith knew that Pansy was too smart to buy her lie, she'd always been too smart for the whole lot of them.
"You saw Draco didn't you?"
Meredith froze, nearly tripping over Tracey Davies' bag which lay in the middle of the room for some odd reason. She didn't let Meredith respond before she continued on, voice laced with coldness but also...pity, "You have that look on that face."
"What look?" Meredith had responded dryly, tiptoeing around the fallen bag till she reached the foot of her bed, finally meeting her stony gaze. She looks older now, eyes tired and worn. The beginning of the war had a different effect on everyone, friend and foe alike. Pansy's voice was grim when she finally answered,
"The same one Draco had when he came back from the smoke." She felt her throat close up and the weight of the world fall upon her back as she balked at the girl who was on a warpath now; ready to destroy Meredith Darling once and for all.
"You can pretend to hate him all you like, Meredith Darling, but that's all you can ever do. Pretend. Because I may not know what is in your heart, but I know what is in Draco's and you damn well know you're feeling the same thing."
'Pretend' was no longer a dangerous word, but a weapon. One that she had wanted to harness, had desperately tried to, but now that weapon had been turned on herself.
"So go on, Meredith Darling, keep pretending. Keep pretending that you're so much better than us when you're just as rotten. Keep being your fake oh-so- perfect self. I don't care."
"But don't you go breaking Draco Malfoy's heart."
ok why is every chapter so dramatic💀💀 not gonna lie, meredith is kind of annoying me right now but my baby will learn, in time❤️❤️ my exams have finally ended and all marks returned which means that i can finally start writing again!! hopefully i can update twice a week in the holidays hehe👁👅👁