Sunday, September 1st, 1996
Natalie Foxworth, or Nat, as she preferred to be called, was sprinting down the corridors that led to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. Her hands were clasped over her mouth and nose as she tried to calm down by breathing through them. Panic was overwhelming her and starting to give her tunnel vision, making everything worse as she tried to just make it to her bed.
The first day of Hogwarts was always overstimulating. Nat had just endured a long and awkward train ride with her girlfriend Astoria and the other fourth year Slytherin girls. She always felt extremely weird for dating someone two years below her when it wasn't just the two of them. As a result, Nat had barely spoken for the entire day, not even to Astoria, not even once they had been seated in the Great Hall. As soon as the sorting was over and the food appeared on the table, Nat lost it. The plethora of carb filled, calorie laden, unsafe foods suddenly assaulted her senses and pushed her over the edge, and she had to ditch without explanation.
She kicked herself mentally as she ran, knowing Astoria's dorm mates would be shit talking her all night. Nat knew they tried to convince Astoria to break up with her at every opportunity. As hard as she tried, Nat was innately unstable, even on ordinary days. She felt horrible, her sweet girlfriend deserved so much better than a mess like her.
Nat finally reached the entrance to the common room and spoke the password quickly. She slipped through the door before it had even fully opened, then rushed to the sixth year girls' dorm room. She was grateful, at least, to have time to settle in before her wretched roommates returned from dinner.
When she entered the room, she found her belongings arranged around a corner bed, by one of the underwater portholes that served as the dungeon's windows. Nat managed a small smile as she saw her celesta next to her nightstand, and her large wooden bookshelf from home. She was glad the house elves seemed to remember her little arrangement with her room mates, and that they had known to unpack the furniture from her Extended trunk.
The dorm was meant to house five, but there were only four girls in Slytherin for Nat's year. So of course, when she was in third year, Nat hexed her roommates in a battle for the extra space, and won. Nat wasn't the best at practical magic, but she made sure her enemies knew better than to fuck with her. The piano like instrument was small, but it still took up enough space to frequently invoke the ire of Pansy, in particular. Nat would defend her one musical outlet until the end though, and she had studied plenty of new jinxes and hexes just in case she needed to do so.
She flopped down on her canopied bed and opened her nightstand drawer. As expected, her backpack and toiletries bag had been unpacked into it. As creepy as Nat found Hogwarts' house elves, they certainly were conveniently intuitive. She decided she needed to calm herself chemically, so she pulled out the pharmaceuticals her Muggle psychiatrists had loaded her up with for the term.
Nat instantly took an entire day's worth of Klonopin, knowing it still wouldn't be enough to completely calm her down. Then, she stared at her other pill bottle, considering it. Ironically, her medications had completely opposite effects. Even though she knew better, Nat tended to take an excessive amount of one medication to outweigh the unpleasant effects of taking too much of the other.
I have to get some sleep... Nat told herself sternly, at some point tonight… She opened the Adderall bottle. So I'll just have one, she thought, her impulsive streak quickly taking control as she swallowed two extended release capsules. She sighed, full of self hatred over her lack of control. Oh well. I'll get some reading and writing done, Nat bargained with herself before putting the bottles back in the drawer.
She looked over at her bookshelf, realizing she would still have to sort her collection manually. Nat would never expect anyone else, never mind a subhuman elf, to get her neurotic order right. Besides, there were several other questionable books stashed away in the bottom of her trunk to discreetly mix in over the term.
Her panic had been abating, but Nat decided to make an active effort to feel a little better before sequestering herself away until morning. She sat down at the celesta, and her hands moved lightly but lazily over the keys. She mumbled out a melody to an improvised chord progression, testing out the song that started to materialize in her head on the train. After figuring out the bass line, she crooned the words that floated through her head ever since she caught sight of the subject of her perpetual agony.
"White hair, black tattoo, I want everything about you…" she started to vocalize, before abruptly slamming her hands down on the keys. Tears started to stream down her face and she buried her face in one of the pillows on her bed. In seconds, the fabric was soaked in tears. What am I even doing this for? I'm never going to show this to anyone, least of all him... Nat thought gloomily, full of self doubt and loathing. This bass line sucks. This melody sucks. My voice sucks. This is all just pointless. He'll never want me like I want him…
Nat went ballistic, feeling terrible about herself and having emotionally cheated on every partner she'd had over the last five years, including her current girlfriend. If Astoria knew, hell, if anyone knew, Nat would be completely shunned for the rest of her time at Hogwarts.
She wondered if she would ever be able to have a normal, happy relationship, or make it as a famous musician. But then, as if on cue, Nat was overwhelmed by a premonition. Her vision blacked out as it started, so she laid on her back to succumb to the flash of a potential future.
She stood standing on a stage in front of a band, playing a harpsichord, an enchanted theremin, a xylophone, and a drum kit. Nat's face shimmered with crystalline drops of emotion. Her voice sounded so clear, so beautiful, and as she stared into the crowd, a familiar pale face gave her a loving smile.
The vision faded and Nat sat up. Her visions didn't come true every time, but she felt mildly comforted by the brief taste of artistic fulfillment and reciprocated love.
She cried herself out a bit more before she realized it was time to hide from her roommates. Begrudgingly, Nat forced herself to get up and change into one of her favorite pastel vintage nightgowns. She pulled her pine wand out of her Slytherin robe and raised it above her trunk, contemplating what to summon first.
"Accio Unusual Hexes and Curses. Accio Confronting the Faceless. Accio Flowers in the Attic," Nat cast, sending the three books flying out of her Undetectably Extended trunk and onto her bed. She looked over her shoulder, pointed her wand at the door and cast, "Colloportus," making a mental note to unlock the it again before hiding away for the night.
Nat had purchased a shit ton of weed from Crabbe before the start of term. He was arguably the most depraved pureblood in the entire year, and he was bound to get expelled any day now. Nat didn't want to have to associate with the sketchy prick during the term, so she had purchased an exorbitant amount of each of her favorite strains. Hmmm, Ambrosia Kush, White Acromantula, Patronus Haze, Sleepless Dream... she thought, staring down into the trunk. Nat scratched her chin, contemplating what she needed. She was still feeling anxious and prone to cry at the first bad thought, and she just wanted to be able to read and sleep. After going back and forth for way too long, she finally just summoned a random strain.
"Accio Patronus Haze. Accio pink lace bag," Nat cast quietly, sending a gigantic jar of pale green herb and a small pouch onto her bed. She looked at the door nervously before sitting down and moving quickly. The large jar held a solid ten pounds of potent sativa, and Nat couldn't help but swoon as she opened it and inhaled the sweet fruity scent. She plucked a small nug out of the jar, then sealed the it and returned it to her trunk. Before unlocking the door, Nat closed her canopy around her bed, making sure everything was out of sight.
Once she was safely hidden in her bed, Nat lifted her wand again, Sticking her curtains together and casting an Imperturbable bubble around her personal space. Even though she struggled to learn them, her agoraphobic lifestyle meant that Nat put plenty of effort into mastering the privacy spells. Plus, crying and ripping bowls in bed was her absolute favorite hobby, so she had to figure out a way to do so at school as soon as she discovered how awesome weed was.
Nat pulled out a cornflower blue glass pipe and a Muggle lighter from her pouch. Despite her unusual gift, Nat was so bad at Charms that she didn't even like to risk conjuring flames in her bed. She sparked the lighter, brought the piece to her mouth, lit the herb, and breathed in deeply. Nat held the smoke in her mouth before letting it rise up through her nostrils in a smooth French inhale. She felt herself relax instantly as she drew it into her lungs, then started to cough heavily.
The Patronus Haze strain had a pleasant effect of inducing all of the smoker's best memories at once, creating a comfortable haze to float in. Nat didn't have that many great memories though, so the effect wasn't as strong as it would be on happier, neurotypical people. Considering this, she decided to take another two Klonopin. It would at least counteract any physical symptoms of anxiety that the haze might induce, and make her less twitchy and erratic once the Adderall kicked in.
She took another big rip before setting the pipe down on the lace pouch it lived in. Nat gazed at the night's selection of books, and decided to start with her favorite horror novel while she waited for her Adderall to take full effect. It was by a Muggle author, V.C. Andrews, but it was still effectively creepy.
Nat flipped to one of her favorite sections, where the siblings drank each others blood while being starved in captivity. She tried to concentrate on the disturbing but oddly soothing story, but it was doing nothing to help her keep calming down. Even through the weed and the pharmaceuticals, Nat's eyes welled up again. She was so frustrated with her emotions, which seemed impossible to regulate no matter what she did. It's going to be a long night, Nat thought ruefully. She put the book down, knowing she wasn't going to be able to read the beautifully devastating novel through her tears.
Though she could not be disturbed or smelled from behind her protective charms, Nat was able to hear the other sixth year girls enter the room. She knew they were aware of her presence, as she was almost always hiding behind the charmed canopy curtains if anyone else was in the dorm. So naturally, they chose to gossip extremely loudly about Nat, pretending they didn't think she was there.
"Ugh, she was there for the whole first half of August," said Daphne, "it was horrible. They snuck off to the forest all the time, probably to have gross lesbian sex in the dirt, like the disgusting piece of shit Foxworth is. I can't believe my parents let them sleep in the same room. She's corrupting my sister, I swear to Merlin. I should really curse that stupid bitch." Daphne was projecting her voice as much as possible towards Nat's bed.
Nat just rolled her eyes and took another hit. Curse away, cunt. I'm still going to fuck your sister.
"I can't even imagine, I can't believe your parents would let a gross half-blood stay at your house," Millicent snorted.
At least I don't look inbred, Nat thought as she blew a series of perfect smoke rings.
"They're trying to be accepting, I guess, but they're just being permissive." Daphne sighed. "Who knows how long she has left," Daphne said in a much smaller voice. The other girls did not reply.
Nat's stomach soured. She was extremely surprised to hear her girlfriend's sister imply that their parents were even remotely okay with their relationship. Nat certainly hadn't gotten that vibe while she stayed with the Greengrass family. It was even more shocking to hear Daphne mention Astoria's ever shortening prognosis. The girls stopped talking so loud, and Nat decided to stop listening. She cashed her bowl and packed another, determined to smoke enough to be completely calm.
As she began to feel the introspective effect of the sativa strain, Nat spaced out staring at the top of her canopy. Her relationship with Astoria had somehow simultaneously been the healthiest and unhealthiest relationship of her entire romantic history. The fourth year girl was the only other person at Hogwarts who understood what it was like to be sick, controlled by a resistant and elusive disease, to be frail and likely to die sooner rather than later. They might have fed each others' misery, enabling each other to indulge in self pity too often, but they were also each others' rocks. Thus, Nat had been weighing the pro's and con's of continuing the relationship ever since she left the Greengrass house.
For the last few weeks of the break, Nat had been completely barraged by open eye visions, premonitions in dreams, random retrocognition upon touching objects, and violent hallucinations. Even though she knew they weren't all bound to happen, they were deeply disturbing and made her anxiety unbearable. And ever since she left Astoria's, she had been seeing terrible visions. Visions of Astoria dead, but not by her disease- by Nat's own bloody hand. Crackling lightning shooting from a wand that was not her own, igniting what she intuitively knew to be Astoria and Draco's marital home. Draco slicing Nat with a knife as she threw her head back in ecstasy. Fighting against her professors in the cobblestone courtyard outside the Great Hall amidst a hellish battle scene.
As horrible as they were, Nat's obsessive mind compulsively played the visions on a loop. There was no way she could tell Astoria what was going on in her head, and it had caused a lapse in correspondence for the last few weeks of summer. Nat cringed as she reflected on how awkward the distance had made the train ride. She wondered how she was going to reconnect with Astoria, and if she even could now.
It was starting to become undeniable; Nat had been pining and suffering over Draco Malfoy since their first year. The prestigious pureblood boy had despised her since second year though, when her ex Theodore Nott told the entire house that Nat had lied about being a pureblood. When she got caught secretly dating Ginny in fourth year, Nat earned herself a great amount of disdain from Draco and the entire house for messing around with the blood traitor Gryffindor. Even jumping straight to dating the seventh year Quidditch Captain, Adrian Pucey, nothing could restore Nat's reputation. It only took a month for Adrian to run back to his friends and reinforce how fucking weird Nat was.
And yet, despite Draco's alternating rudeness and indifference to Nat, she had tried to get a little closer to him by joining the Inquisitorial Squad last year. Umbridge's group might have bonded the rest of Slytherin, but they all still held Nat at arm's length. No one wanted to sink their social standing by being too nice to the frequently fainting freak.
Astoria had been so kind to her, though. The girls quickly formed a connection based primarily on their illnesses, and jumped straight into an exclusive relationship. Nat had held a secret flame for Astoria since before she dated Ginny, but she knew everyone would find her extremely creepy for going after an eleven year old first year as a fourteen year old third year. But Nat figured fourteen and sixteen wasn't as weird, even though she'd be turning seventeen in just a few days.
Nat knew deep down that she had only chosen to be with Astoria upon realizing that Draco's repulsion might never wane. There was no question that Astoria had been a second choice, and it made Nat feel more and more like a piece of shit every time she thought about it, which was too often.
She forced herself to cut off the train of thought by packing another bowl and torching half of it. Rehashing the series of events that led to her misery at Hogwarts was one of Nat's brain's favorite ways of torturing her, second only to replaying the persistent and intrusive premonitions. The memories and fantasies were way too engrossing for her weak subconscious to easily drop, but she had to try harder. Nat could tell by her racing heart beat that the amphetamines had kicked in, so she made herself crack open the Defense Against The Dark Arts textbook.
Defense Against The Dark Arts was one of her worst classes, and she was terrified of studying under Professor Snape this year. Nat could never dedicate herself enough to learning the protective jinxes, even on extra meds. Besides, Nat had an inclination to protect herself with hexes and curses instead. Although the subject was not touched at Hogwarts, and she was rarely able to get away with practicing any of the spells, Nat had slowly collected a diverse collection of Dark spell books from stores in Knockturn Alley. After beginning to read them, the only value she ever really found in the Defense class was learning the effects of spells that could be used against her, and the ways they could be thwarted.
Predictably, Nat closed the textbook in less than five minutes. She grabbed her ancient copy of Unusual Hexes and Curses and cracked it open to the dog eared page near the end. Before diving in, Nat finished her bowl and returned it to its pouch. She tucked it under her pillow so she wouldn't have to expose her hand by reaching out to her nightstand drawer.
She reviewed the Unforgivable Curses section for the hundredth time. Compared to the other sadistic spells in the book, the curses seemed almost tame. The Killing Curse was downright humane next to some of the evisceration hexes. Like horror novels though, reading the descriptions and theory of the vicious spells was soothing to Nat. She finally relaxed, reading late into the night before slowly succumbing to a recurring dream.
Draco was laughing down at Nat, his stone wall grey eyes flashing black in near darkness. He straddled her waist, holding a gruesome and sadistic looking black knife just millimeters from her throat. They were on the floor in a gigantic room that was filled wall to ceiling with junk and treasures alike. When it wasn't given a specific purpose, The Room of Requirement reminded Nat of the Muggle antique shop she frequented at home. Looking back up at Draco, Nat became suddenly conscious of her nudity, which made her feel both exposed and aroused.
"Tell me where," Draco said quietly, leaning down over her pale, naked body to whisper in her ear. He pressed the blade gently into her skin, causing tiny droplets of blood to bead up. The sting was delightful, but Nat couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed with the lack of dominance Draco showed by allowing her to choose the spot.
Nat drew a slow line with her fingertip, right under her protruding left collar bone. Her back arched in anticipation, pressing herself into Draco. He shoved her down by the shoulder, then held her steady by placing her hand on her throat and pressing hard. Nat breathed, squeaking slightly, and felt Draco adjust his grip accordingly. Then, abruptly, he sliced the indicated spot, the knife cleanly gliding through the top layers of her skin. Nat cried out, but Draco's hand pressed threateningly on her windpipe. "Again," she managed to gasp, controlling herself from twitching underneath him. He swiftly cut a second, thinner line directly beneath the first, then carelessly tossed the black blade aside.
Draco pressed his lips to the incisions he had made, then licked slowly along the length of them. He released his hold on Nat's throat, using one hand to hold himself above her and the other to swirl two fingers in her pooling blood, then raised his hand to examine it in the light. Draco then pressed her breasts together, and Nat bit her lip hard to avoid crying out. The incisions parted like blooming petals, and they both grinned, snickering, at the sight of blood welling up and spilling down Nat's body. Draco dipped his fingers in it again, then shoved them past Nat's lips, forcing her to swallow her own blood. The iron taste, mingled with the endorphin rush of being cut, always caused her head to swim. Her blood must have had the same effect on Draco, as he wet his fingers in it again and sucked them clean.
"You fucking love this," Nat said coyly, while Draco wrote out 'half-blood slut' across her tits and stomach. Draco didn't return the playful sentiment, just silently embossed the words with more of her blood.
"You're going to lay here until classes, let that dry, and wear it under your uniform today," Draco said flatly, finally with the authority she craved. "And don't you dare wash it off," he commanded, almost as an afterthought. "I better see it again tonight."
Nat nodded, knowing better than to speak or show anything but compliance at this point. Without any sign of affection, or even a goodbye, Draco stood up and walked away from her. Nat laid still, watching Draco wipe blood from his face with his robes as he navigated his way out of the labyrinth with surprising ease.
Nat woke up with her hand already in her underwear, masturbating to the fading dream. It was her favorite vision to obsess over, and the one she wanted most desperately to fucking happen already. Replaying the dream in her mind always brought her to a quick and hard climax.
She tried to ignore the fact that she was unable to discern if these dreams were true visions, or just obsessive fantasies about becoming an unbridled Dark witch with her long term love as her partner in crime. They're real, Nat thought, half assuring herself, half hoping with all her heart.
As Nat rearranged her bed to fall back to sleep for a few hours, a thought kept repeating itself. We will be together, her mind asserted. She summoned another memory; Nat sat in a darkened bay window, her fingers entwined in Draco's, their eyes staring down at their matching, branded forearms.
Only the slightest hint of guilt twinged at her subconscious as she faded out again.