CHAPTER I: Adynamia (Helplessness)
Life is a tough crowd.
Cedric Diggory spent a good two thirds of his fifth year at Hogwarts stewing and calculating over quidditch. It wasn't that unheard of for his focus to be knotted around the sport worse than the Whomping Willow's bark, but it was particularly bad that year. There was a perfectly rational reason behind his bolstered obsession, too; Ormskirk had been dropping hints like mad that he was planning to name Cedric captain after he graduated. Of course, Cedric was excited, grateful and appreciative that the captain he'd respected for the last few years had so much faith in him. He only wished the older boy could've waited at least until Christmas holidays to let on about it. He already had O.W.L.s to worry about and this mania about the Chamber of Secrets, was a little peace too much to ask?
His friends didn't mind his turmoil in the slightest. After years of living together, his roommates were used to Cedric's fanaticism and the mild insanity he suffered when stressed. They continued on with business as usual and Cedric couldn't ask for more. Sitting on his bed with a notebook of game strategies, listening to the four other boys boisterously debate the ranking of Hogwarts' young beauties was better than anything he could imagine. It was normal. At least this year.
This year, his best friend, Bernard Maltby, had put together a list – quite lengthy and detailed really – of all the school's most notable girls. He even had it charmed so he could organize the names in rankings, house, and relationship status without having to cross anything out. The charm was Cedric's contribution to the project because he usually wasn't able to take part in the discussions where the other boys settled the rankings, themselves. He settled for listening to the mirth the over-romanticized opinions of such a group of teenaged boys brought about.
Darrel Turner had a crush on Cho Chang, a third year in Ravenclaw, and often brought up her name. Each time it developed into an argument between him and Rickett, since the beater was adamant that Cho was too young and the list should be confined to only the girls in fifth year or above. Comments like this sent Turner into a tizzy about double standards and he would demand the list be further restricted to fifth year only. At that point, Bernie would intervene.
"Calm down, lads." Bernie cooed in his low, Scottish burr. "Darr'l, if ya' want to chatter on about the girl of your dreams, you'll 'ave to save it. Anthony, you're a prude. Now, I've been savin' the best contestant for just the right moment and you boys won't spare a t'ought to third years and Ravenclaws after tis. The Bitch of the Wild Hunt herself, Miss Ansa Miller." A chorus of exclamations followed the name as though Bernie had set off an actual bomb. Everyone in Hufflepuff knew that name and, until today, it had been not so mysteriously absent from the list.
"C'mon, Maltby, you can't expect us to roll with that one. No one wants the wrath of Killer Miller." Lubbert Leen groaned from his spot on the foot of Rickett's bed. Bernie only laughed in response.
"Hey, I think she's fair game. She is pretty in that one-last-look-at-a-nice-face-before-you-croak way." Rickett chimed, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
"I think she ate a first year during the commotion at the Halloween feast." Turner shuddered dramatically. "Besides, isn't she dating the Giant Squid?"
The four boys burst into raucous laughter. There must've been a hundred such rumors floating around the castle about Hufflepuff house's most hostile member. According to say-so, the poor girl had Nula blood, dragon blood, and suffered from lycanthropy, not to mention that her mother is a hag, her father was secretly You-Know-Who's biggest supporter and possibly a former supporter of Adolf Hitler and she was going to raise the Wild Hunt after she graduated. Some even say she cut out her tongue – or her soul in other, more colorful tellings – in a bit of Dark magic, hence her silent skulking and tight lipped glares.
Cedric didn't know the girl personally so he tried not to give much attention to rumors about her sour disposition and malevolent deeds. That wasn't always easy, though. Ansa Miller had a habit of disappearing, she didn't talk much unless she was in class and she had what was easily the most intense stare Cedric had ever encountered. She seemed to stare down the world and come out triumphant with every passing glance.
"Have you got your sights on Miller, Maltby?" Turner asked in a sickly-sweet singsong. "Is that why you're puffing her up like this?"
Cedric eyed his friends. Bernie hadn't mentioned any special interest in Miller to him. He watched as the Scot laughed and scratched a note onto the long roll of parchment which housed his precious list. Cedric often wondered if it was strange how commonly he was left completely in the dark about his friends and their thoughts. "No. It's not like t'at. If ya want to put a tack on it, you could say I'm 'er fan." Bernie glanced quickly over to Cedric, enjoying his silence, before throwing his head back to laugh some more. "I like 'er style. The girl acts like she's one bad mood off from burning dis whole castle down. She's excitin'."
That was true. But no one knew yet just how exciting Ansa Miller and her moods could be.
Later the boys trickled out of their dorm and up into the Great Hall for dinner. They ate and chattered and Cedric learned that the teachers weren't having any more luck reviving the boy who'd been petrified the night before than they were with Mrs. Norris. From what he'd heard, which had been quite a bit as this was really the only thing anyone had been talking about all day, the victim was some poor first year Gryffindor with a pension for photography. That last bit only mattered because the kid was apparently found still holding his camera. The whole business made Cedric's stomach turn.
Nothing Cedric could imagine could rationalize someone attacking schoolchildren and animals. He didn't really want to imagine something that could explain it.
Some other students, especially in the lower years, were gossiping that Harry Potter was behind it. They claimed he was a Parselmouth and thought that ability was as sure a sign as any that he was not only Dark, but a descendant of Hogwarts' famous Parselmouth founder. How the Boy Who Lived could be slinking around, trying to kill muggle-borns and cats on the vendetta of Salazar Slytherin was only one more thing Cedric couldn't fathom. It was ridiculous. Cedric had played against the boy last year and had watched him in all of Gryffindor's matches for the year; Harry was fair, direct and all-around decent. He never resorted to any underhanded tricks or dangerous bouts on the pitch and, as far as Cedric's experience went, a player's style in the game was typically a reasonable show for their true conduct.
When he heard the whispers and saw the sharp glances toward the Gryffindor table and the pair of utterly ordinary second years who were Harry Potter's best friends, Cedric tried to keep his head down and not let on to his annoyance. When it all became a little too much, he gathered himself and made his way out, Bernie at his side all through the throngs of the Hall.
The two talked between themselves, deciding to take a quick trip to the library before they returned to their common room for the night. Bernie wanted to see if he could find a reliable source for an essay he had to do for muggle studies. As they walked he told Cedric what he knew already about the muggle doctor and inventor he was writing on. They were caught up in their discussion, having transformed at that point into a comparison between this muggle doctor, Jonas Salk, and Gunhilda of Gorsemoor, when they came across a huddle of students in a tight nook off the corridor. The group was speaking in low grumbles and hisses and from their distance. Cedric couldn't make out much of what they were saying. He was ready to walk on past them with no more than a wary once-over before Bernie nudged him with his elbow and pointed out a single shock of canary yellow pinned in the center of the mass.
Paying a bit more attention, Cedric saw that the group was formed entirely of Slytherins except that one bit of yellow. It wasn't usually his way to judge a situation so quickly, but every instinct in his body compelled him to step into that group and stand beside his housemate. He didn't even realize who he was defending until she was already tucked safely behind his shoulder. It was her eyes, wide and questioning and as penetrating as ever, staring at him from that shielded spot that brought about recognition.
"What's going on here?" Cedric barked at the crowd of silver and green clad students before him. Somewhere in his mind, he noted that most of the faces before him were rather young and those that weren't, were quite familiar. "Flint, you've got your team picking on lone girls in empty hallways now?"
A small, pinch-faced boy stepped forward and sneered before Flint could quip any response of his own. "Shut up, you minger, mind your own business."
Cedric recognized the haughty air of the old pureblood families and he tried to place the recognizable child growling at him. "This is my business."
He hadn't meant much by that short statement; only that Ansa Miller was a Hufflepuff and their house had a practice of sticking up for one another. He felt that it was his place to defend this friendless, cornered girl. Cedric had no way of knowing what four little words could do to rework his whole life.
"Ha!" Flint barked as he moved to the younger boy. "This little half-breed mutt? This is Cedric 'Golden Child' Diggory's bint?!" He hollered in rough, snappish laughter.
Cedric didn't really understand. His mind was stuck on Flint's accusation of Miller's blood status, he felt so angry he was seeing red. Before he could settle his ire enough for a comeback, Cedric felt a pull on his hand. He turned to see Miller's lean, sturdy fingers wrapped around his own just as her voice resounded over the crowd. "I'm his lover."
She shoved easily passed the slightly stunned students and pulled Cedric along in her wake with surprising strength as she stormed eminently away. Distractedly, he wondered where Bernie was and if he would still be able to find a book for his research as Miller towed him away. With her head held high and that stark gaze fixed straight ahead, with Cedric gawking confoundedly as he trailed after her, the two entered a new chapter in their burgeoning lives.
This was the beginning of it all.