Hi there, awesome reader! I'm SpacesInMyMind, nice to meet ya!
This is my first fanfiction. I should preface it saying that it's post-Deathly Hallows, featuring new characters of my own invention. I hope you enjoy!
(I should also say that Cora is a pureblood, but you can kind of infer that from reading. Sorry, I won't interrupt anymore. Thanks for reading!)
Silas thought it was funny to pry into the minds of innocent bystanders.
Of course, they didn't find it funny, to be wandering along doing their ordinary business when they're suddenly struck with a shooting pain in their skulls, like someone was tearing their head apart, while the grubby, ruddy-looking streetboy stood by cackling as they clutched at their skulls, suddenly faint. He wasn't a pleasant sight himself, with torn, too-short slacks, a yellowed shirt and hair in crying need of a good scrub. No one would tell him these things, of course. Everyone wanted to stay away from the frightening boy of Southwark Bridge, the one with coal-black eyes and a stretched-thin smile. They knew to steer clear.
Cora despised him for it, but she couldn't do anything to change his mind. After all, she was only nine-going-on-ten and he was ten-going-on-eleven. In her hierarchy, she couldn't do anything to change his mind even if he tried. Besides, he could just reach into her skull and mangle her brain matter. Silas had promised he would never use his power to hurt her, but she didn't believe him. A Slytherin if I ever saw one.
"So your parents are really magic?" He asked for the umpteenth time, and Cora rolled her eyes, as she always did when he begged her to talk of the Wizarding world.
"Yes, they are. How many times do I have to tell you?" She shook her head, letting her twin braids slap against her shoulders. Her tidy jumper looked incredibly spotless next to Silas' ridiculous getup, but he didn't seem to mind, one shoulder pressed against hers as he stared at the churning water below him. His eyes always echoed the sky, Cora noted. Today they were stormy. Turbulent.
"And you get your letter when you're eleven, right?" Silas tapped his fingers frantically against the fabric of his pants, a restless energy that made Cora tired just looking at him.
"Yes." She almost seethed, then ruffled a hand through his dark, dirty hair. "Does anything penetrate that thick skull of yours?"
She watched as his eyes flashed, a wave of anger over the churning steel blue, and she prepared for the attack, wrinkling her nose and shrinking away from the boy, but the look faded almost as quickly as it had come.
"You said it's Occlumency, what I can do." Silas almost whispered, his voice quiet against the whistling of the wind and the crashing of the waves.
"Yes, Silas." Meekly this time, chin tucked down. Still expecting the pain that would never come, pain from this dangerous streetboy, this wizard.
"I can look into their minds - that's what it means, doesn't it?" His voice rose in excitement and volume, hands now clenched into fists. Silas was always so excited about his magic, always wanting to know more. Every scrap of magic she had witnessed in her nine-going-on-ten years he wanted to hear, over and over again, and he kept asking. Magic fascinated him, but he insisted on a thorough explanation every time the topic came up. It was tedious, but she didn't entirely mind.
"That's what my dad says, anyways." Swinging her legs over the bridge, Cora peered down at her shoelaces, not wanting to meet Silas' eyes. His moods could change so quickly, she didn't want to do anything to offend him, that would maybe make her pitch off of the bridge and into the river.
"But I can do so much more than that." Silas' voice was breathy and his knuckles were whitened from the fist-clenching. "Of course, I can see into them, flip through them like a book. You wouldn't like it, some of the stuff I see is really nasty." He laughed lightly but Cora refrained from joining in. "I can hurt them, too. Have you seen it?"
"Silas, it's cruel, that's what it is!" Cora leaped to her feet, tears sparkling in her eyes, and Silas reeled away when he saw her expression.
"Aw, Cora, I didn't mean to make you upset. Besides, they're just… What do you call them? Tubbles?"
"Muggles." Cora hissed through gritted teeth.
"Muggles, yeah. Why do they matter?"
"Because, Silas, if you were a Muggle I wouldn't go around peering into your brain just because I could." Turning on her heel, she stomped away, braids slapping at her shoulders with each flouncing step. Silas didn't even call out for her as she left - the only sound echoing in her ears was the crashing of the waves.
"What was his name again?"
The summer day wasn't cold, but Cora felt a chill run over her as she opened her lips to speak. "Voldemort."
The hiss of breath left her lips and she felt goosebumps rupture over her arms and legs. Just hearing about the things the Dark wizard had done were enough to keep her up at night, eyes darting to the moving shadows on her wall, expecting a flash of green to appear at any moment.
"Voldemort." Silas parroted, his tone almost reverent, and she was quick to shush him.
"Don't say that!" She urged, bunching up the fabric of her skirt in her fists. "Mommy says you're not supposed to say it! She says it scares people, back when he was in power…"
"Was he a good wizard?" Silas interjected, completely oblivious to Cora's chiding. The girl tilted her head to face him, eyebrows knitted.
"Silas, no, have I ever said anything about him that made him sound anything other than despicable?"
"That's not what I mean!" He snapped, eyes flashing. "Was he a powerful wizard?"
Flustered, Cora fumbled for a response. "I mean, I guess so. Mommy and Daddy said he had a large following, other Dark sympathizers…"
"Could he do it, too?" The boy pressed, and Cora shook her head.
"You're not making any sense."
"Could he do this?" Silas pointed dramatically to his head, as if he couldn't be more obvious. "Could he do Occlamanty… Occlemendy… Whatever it's called?"
Cora bit her lip, then slowly shrugged. "I don't know, Silas. I'm not some kind of Wizarding expert, you know."
The boy was silent, bare feet swinging over the water as if he didn't have a care in the world, although Cora knew these were the moments when he was the most dangerous. If Silas wasn't talking he was using Occlumency or thinking, neither of which were preferable. Hastily she tried to start up conversation again, trying to get Silas distracted.
"Mommy said she was going to take me to Diagon Alley this weekend, to shop for some new potion supplies…"
"I don't care about that." Silas barked, then lapsed into silence again. Cora watched the steel blue of his eyes harden, freezing over. A similar chill ran up her spine but she suppressed her shiver. Talking with Silas was like wandering through a minefield blindfolded - even the smallest word could set him off.
A thick and ugly silence settled over the Southwark Bridge, but neither child was interested in breaking it. Cora fiddled with her skirt again, smoothing the fabric over her knees, while Silas drummed his fingers on the pavement, grubby nails hammering against the only sound penetrating the hush was the low hum of activity in the city, the crackling of car tires and the ever-present thrum of the waves. Risking a glance to her side, she saw Silas' jaw set firmly, looking very much like a caveman, but she kept the thought to herself. As skilled as Silas was with his Occlumency, she could still feel it when he pried into her thoughts, and the privacy of her mind was relatively intact.
"Why do you do it?"
Silas' head jerked to the side and his eyes bored into her, with Cora forcing herself not to cringe away from him glare. "Do what?" His tone was accusatory but she was firm when she responded.
"Why do you hurt them? You know it hurts them, don't play dumb."
"I am not dumb." Cora watched a slow scowl spread across the boy's face, teeth gritted. "And they're just Muggles, Cora. We're above them, right?"
Heat flushed Cora's cheeks and anger bubbled in her head, threatening to boil. Why doesn't he get it? Words betrayed her and she just shook her head vigorously.
"You'll see. When I get my letter and learn real magic, you'll see. That'll be the best day of my life." The scowl faded to a smile of pleasure, not necessarily ugly but still turning Cora's stomach.
"You don't know you'll get the letter. You're Muggle-born, after all." She pointed out, glad to have something to jab at Silas with.
"Naw. I never knew my mother, I bet she was a witch. A really good one, too, otherwise I wouldn't be able to do what I can do, you know? That'll be the day." A wistful sheen took over his steely eyes and Cora clenched her fists around her skirt until the fabric crinkled under her tight grip. Please, not Silas. Anyone but Silas.
She knew it was no use. Of course Silas was a wizard, and why should she care if he went to Hogwarts or not? After all, she was only nine-going-on-ten, and he was ten-going-on-eleven. Silas wanted to go to school, why should she wish anything otherwise?
It was those eyes, she decided. There was cleverness and wisdom and power, but also a twisted, malevolent glare than only occasionally dared to show itself, and that was what scared her.
But it was also what kept her coming back to the bridge, day after day, even though she hated him and hated the heat and hated the old bridge.
Or did she?
Silas wasn't at the bridge, which was odd. They had been meeting for a few months every day, always at the same time, Silas in varying degrees of cleanliness and in varying degrees of agitation. Some days they would talk amicably for hours, others Silas would be moody and aggressive, arms clasped across his chest defensively, refusing to speak to her. Rain or shine, cloudy or sunny, although rarely sunny, they would meet, her with a new aspect of the Wizarding world to explain to him, Silas her eager pupil. It was a strange friendship at the very least, but Cora found herself looking forward to the times when she would settle down on the steaming asphalt of the bridge and chat, lazily explaining Floo Powder.
Except the day when Silas didn't come.
His ragged figure was such a landmark of the bridge it shook her for a second, Silas' frame missing, and she sat down in her usual spot and waited, ankles crossed and hands clasped, the image of propriety, and wondered where on earth he could be.
Maybe he got in trouble with the Ministry, she mused. They heard of his skills and took him into custody for underage magic. As terrible as it sounded, she wasn't absolutely opposed to the thought, then felt a rush of shame. School would be good for Silas, with real, approved magic to take him off of his Muggle-tormenting course. Even so, she was frightened of the thought of Silas learning more difficult magic. What would he do with his skills?
What was she thinking? She was his friend. If Silas wanted to go to Hogwarts, she wanted that for him as well.
Turning just in time to see him walking down the pier, a jolt ran through her and she send up a prayer to whoever might be listening.
I know I shouldn't, but please, leave Silas be, don't let him become more powerful. I know he's my friend, but at Hogwarts… Oh, not Silas!
The figure approached her slowly and her heart sank at the sight of him - or rather, what he was holding.
A wrinkled piece of parchment. A triumphant smile.
An acceptance letter.
I'll repeat myself and say thanks again for reading! Since I have an absolutely crazy schedule I have no idea when this will get updated. Hopefully soon!
If you don't mind it would mean the world to me if you reviewed. Tell me your thoughts so far! I know I haven't gotten fully into the HP parts yet, but I'd love to hear what you think all the same! You're the best, thanks a million! :)
I'll see you next update, then!