A/N : I do not own Harry Potter, I only own my characters :)
Thank you to emzigale07 for helping me with this!
Chapter 1
The mood in Hogwarts was dismal. The twinkling sky in the great hall was filled with dark clouds that were raining down droplets of water that would rival a golden snitch in size, when immobilized in the seekers hand. The usually cheerful and humorous ghost named Peeves was suspended quietly in the air rather then being a bother to the old and decrepit care taker Mr. Filch. But outside the students of Hogwarts were looking at something that would explain it all. The students of Gryffindor, known for their chivalry along with there bravery were wide eyed and frightened and the sight before them. Hufflepuffs, the kind hearted and generally nice students of the school, stood quivering and clutching each other as if their lives depended on the people who were holding them up. The pure blooded students of Slytherin were stunned into silence as they looked upon the scene of horror. The Ravenclaws, with some of the brightest witches and wizard of their age standing among them the houses with silent tears streaming down their faces.
My scarf that showed the Ravenclaw colors of blue and bronze, was wrapped tightly around my neck keeping the bitter cold from clawing at my skin. My black jacket stained a darker obsidian with my tears as I took in the sight of a tragedy that would be ingrained in my brain for years. My blacker then black raven hair with tight spiraling curls down to the small of my back, were whipping my face with such force that it could have hit the freckles of my face with one shot. My to small body shaking more out of fear then the bitter cold that I felt. My nose was red from crying, my midnight blue bug eyes, shedding large tears that could drown a mermaid dwelling in the black lake. My tiny hands were grasped around my best mate Rivet Clarkson.
As I look up at Rivet with wide crying eyes, I see that she is also in the same state I am. Her dark brown eyes were misted over with tears straining to be set free. Her mile long dark chocolate straight as a pin hair was tied back at the base of her slim tan neck. Her perfectly styled bangs that hung along her forehead were intruding into her eyes as she tried to keep her tears at bay. Her long and lean body stood tall trying to look over the many heads in front of us waiting for even a small glimpse of hope among the dismal scene.
She looks at me and shares a look of comfort. I have only experienced something this dreadful when I saw my beloved nanny killed in front of my eyes by the people I trusted most in the world.
My mother Addolorata Adelina Moretti stood short but strong with her obsidian hair hanging straight down her back. Her usually beautiful face was distorted with rage as she looked on at the timid women kneeling in front of her. Standing next to my mother with a silent alliance was my father Emiliano Nereo Moretti. He was tall with a lean build that could intimidate a Hungarian Horntail if need be. His dark brown curled hair was pressed perfectly styled against his head. His wise blue eyes looked at my mother with love and trust as he knew what she was about to do. "You thought you were going to get away with it! Weren't you?" My mother sneered as she began to circle my nanny with a wolf like prowl when hunting their prey. Her leathery tan skin was moist with sweat, her kind hazel eyes looked on with terror. She was short and stoat like most Italian women become with age. Her white apron was stained with food and blood as she looked at my mother with pleading eyes. "M-Mistress p-please! I have cared for your children for many years! I meant no harm!" She wept, but it seemed to have no effect on my mother or father. I stood holding my sister tightly around her waist with my four year old hear nestled into her stomach. Her tanned hand was holding my head keeping me from looking at the scene. She however did not succeed because I saw everything that happened in the drawing room of my home ten years ago. Maddelena was wise beyond her years, even as her eleven year old self held me that night I knew that something in her was about to change. I can picture my sister by memory, her skin a smooth flawless golden brown that lead into pitch black hair like my mother an I. Her hair with soft waves was down to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Her smile perfectly straight and white, her eye brows were perfectly shapped. She was perfect, just as a Moretti should be. She was starting her first year of Hogwarts in a few short weeks, un-doubtebly she would be one of the tallest ones there. "YOU MEANT NO HARM? YOU FILTHY HALF-BLOOD, HOW DARE YOU LIE TO ME!" My mother screeched at Adela. "B-but mistress, I have cared for your daughters when you were not able t-" "What do you mean by 'when you were not able.'" My mother hissed in a deadly tone. Her eyes flashes with un-relenting hatred. Even then my young mind knew that was the entirely wrong thing to say. My mother was never home, her and my father traveled world wide for their master. At that time I had no idea who he was, but I understand now. I know of no one who would ever go again their master. "Crucio!" My mother cried, breaking me out of my revive. I watched in horror as Adela curled into a ball crying out in agony. Tears started streaming down my eyes as I took in her clenched eye lids and her nose having liquid run out of it. I could see veins emerging out of her skin from her blood pumping violently. Her teeth were clenching to the point were I thought they could break. What was this curse? Why was my mother doing this? "P-p-p" Adela couldn't even form coherent word let alone a sentence to beg for mercy. Then all of a sudden, she stopped. I moved my gaze over to my mother, it seems that her wand was no longer raised at Adela. Why would my mother stop, I never knew my mother to show an ounce of mercy twords anyone, not even Maddelena or I. She always ruled with an iron fist and never regretted her actions. She was a lady of many words, and many more actions. "Avada Kedavra!"
"Yes?" My quiet tone carried over the screams from the crowd just enough for her to hear me. I could feel my eyebrows puckering in confusion. What was wrong with her? I know she was scared, but why was she looking at me?
"Val, you look...dreadful," As she spoke she slowly put her hand up to my forehead. My automatic reaction was to flinch away. Physical contact was never something I was fond of I only ever received attention was with my friends and my sister. My parents didn't believe in coddling their children, they think it is inappropriate and makes said children depend more on them.
"Valentina," Rivet said in a strong, demanding voice. She only used my full name when she was serious. Did I really look that bad? I was feeling fine.
"Rivet, i'm fine," I said in my almost silent tone. The corners of my small mouth turned up into a small smile to drive my point. Rivet nodded and turned twords the scene in the front of the stands. Shaking her head, she took my small and in hers, gave it a squeeze and started leading me to the castle. She always held my hand whenever she thought that I was scared. She always felt that I was a defenseless toddler. I'm not surprised that she feels that was, I only open up to a few people, others find my silence weird and unnerving. I was also a lot smaller then the other 4th years, my petite frame was towered over by the boys and girls in my year.
"Ouch," I mumbled under my breath. Finding myself on my knees surrounded by people runnning to get to the castle and leave behind the depressing scene. As I looked behind me I noticed that I must have tripped over a tree route, I could see it sticking out of the ground surrounded by dried mud with shoe imprints. Looking up I saw Rivet trying to fight the crowd to get to me. People parted around me like the red sea, not even bothering to help me.
Just before Rivet got to me I felt a strong tug on my arm. Looking over I noticed it was a pale hand attached to an equally pale arm, hidden under a black coat. The arm yanked me to my feet and pushed me forward. Looking up to the owner of that arm I noticed it was non other then the white haired Slytherin Draco Malfoy.
"Move along Moretti, some people are actually trying to get through," His silver eyes narrowed as he gazed down at me. I have never actually talked to the Slytherin Prince, but our families were in the same "business". His almost un natural platinum blonde hair was blowing softly around the sharp features of his face.
"Sorry," I mumble looking down at my small feet that were covered with equally small black flats.
"Whatever," He replied as he let go of my arm. I looked at his back as he stalked away with his two friends who towered over me like giants. Tearing my gaze away from him I turn twords the crowd where I last saw Rivet. But it seems she has disappeared. Taken by the crowd I assume.
I slowly make my way up to the grand castle that towered over the trees and mountains in the distance. Hogwarts was always a wonder to me. Its high cathedral ceilings with windows or marble in the highest peaks. The grand marble floors and pillars, always polished and bright. The weathered bricks that made up the outside giving it it's rightfully old appearance.
I made my way to the Ravenclaw tower where my room is. I share the room with Rivet and three other girls, their names were Chelsea Chansill, Luna Lovegood, and Acadia Smith. Chelsea was average height for a fourth year, she was big boned , but she was beautiful. She had long wavy brown hair that went to the bottom of her shoulder blades with sun kissed blonde highlights. Her bright hazel eyes always wide and confident. She spoke the truth even when no one asked for it. Chelsea was never that great at school work, but on the quidditch field she was spectacular. One of the best chasers the Ravenclaw house has ever seen. She was the one who encouraged me to tryout for the team in my 3rd year, surprisingly to me, I made the team as a chaser.
Luna's an interesting girl, to put it lightly. She was never fully there in my eyes. She's nice but sometimes she makes you feel stupid about not knowing what a Crumple-Horned Snorlack is. It seemed as though no matter what mood she was in she would always take time to say hello to you in the mourning. Luna wasn't in Rivet, Chelsea, Acadia or I's year, but rather, she was in the year below us. She was moved to our room when Professor Flitwick found out that she was being bullied in her old room. Luna has beautiful long wavy platinum blonde hair with light blue eyes. I've seen pictures of her father and she is a spitting image of him, just female.
Acadia was a tall stoic girl with choppy honey blonde hair that never went past her ears. Her eyes were a deep green with a dark blue ring around her iris. She was one of the smartest girls in school. She often compared her grades to mine, even though mine were far superior. She wasn't the nicest person in Hogwarts because she had a bit of an attitude that made you think that she thought she was better then you. She was much taller then Rivet, she was much taller then most of the guys in Hogwarts too. It gave her that 'holier then thow' impression.
Acadia is the first one who answers the door when I knock.
"Valentina," she regarded me with her ice cold gaze, and equally icy voice . As I looked into her hazel eyes and took in her face, I noticed she looked a sickly green compared to her flawless white skin, no doubt from the sudden change in mood from the beginning of the year to today.
"Hello Acadia," I replied with just the right amount of kindness so she wouldn't think I was annoyed by her blocking my way into the room. Knowing Acadia she would call a person out if she thought someone talked to her without the utmost respect, that she thought she deserved.
Acadia nodded at me and eventually let me into our room.
Our room, just as the other rooms, have deep blue walls with bronze detailing on the ceiling and above window frames. The beds set in a semi-circular pattern with again the same colors of blue and bronze set for the comforters that keep us warm at night. The bed frames are made of black steal that form a elegant curved design with four long arms that reach up and from a canopy. Hanging over the canopy's were sheer translucent blue sheets that offered very little privacy. All these small details of the bed set the scene for a large bronze eagle set at the foot of the bed. Its wings were thrown up into the air long and grand, as if it was about to take flight.
"Val! There you are! I was so worried! I couldn't get to you after you tripped, the crowd was to strong! How is your knee? It looks like its bleeding!" Rivet said as she started to ramble on. Rivet was always concerned about me, it was almost like the was trying to take the role as my older sister. But the problem is, I already have a sister who I love. I don't need anyone to take her place.
"Rivet, I'm fine, no need to fuss," I mumble under my breath as I make the way to the washroom to have a look at my knee.
Our washroom was extravagant to say the least. It had hard wood floors charmed so that they would never rot or have water damage. The sinks were made of granite along with the shower floor and walls. The faucets were made of a wonderfully aged bronze that shone even in the dark. The curtain hanging as a cover for the shower had a blue background, but it also had the same eagle that was molded onto our bed frames as a picture in the middle of the curtain. I would come to the conclusion that Rowena Ravenclaw had good taste.
As I sat down on the edge of the large sink, and hoist my leg over the basin, I try to remember what the spell is to heal minor wounds, after all, the spell is second year charms. Perhaps Rivet knows.
"Riv, would you happen to remember the spell for healing small wounds?" I raise my voice by barely an octave. Rivet always has an ear out even when you least suspect it, so I knew she would be able to hear my quiet tone.
"Yes, its epit-," She replied in a loud musical tone until she was rudely cut off my an obnoxious voice that could only belong to Acadia.
"I would suspect the smartest Ravenclaw in our year to remember a simple spell such as that! How sad," Acadia said with her arrogant tone that could make even the calmest Thestral lose its barrings.
"Shut it Acadia! Its Epistky Val," I hear Chelsea holler in her boisterous tone.
"Thank you Chels," I reply quietly. I could remember a time where Chelsea and I weren't the closest of mates. We were acquaintances up until the beginning of 3rd year. I remember that the day we became closer was the day Cedric Diggory broke her heart.
As I enter my shared room I cant help but sigh, Professor Snape had assigned us a twelve inch essay to write about werewolves. On top of that I have to write a nine inch essay in charms. It was going to be a long night. Just as I am about to reach into my trunk for some fresh parchment and a quill our door slams open. Surprised I draw my wand which is ten and a half inches long and made of Mahogany with a Chimaera scale core, and find that I have it pointed at Chelsea's head. "Bloody hell Chelsea! I could have hurt you!" I say in a shocked voice as I slowly put it back into my robe pocket. It only took me a few moments to realize that she was weeping large galleon sized tears. "Chelsea?" I say quietly as I approach her with caution. "Whats wrong?"
"Its your bloody quidditch captain!" she shrieked in a voice that hurt my ears. But I didn't dare flinch, I was afraid she would take it the wrong way. "What did he do?" I asked timidly. Why Cedric? Why did you have to do something to Chelsea? "He b-broke my heart!" she wept as she fell into me. Frozen, I didn't know quite what to do. Iv never experienced someone who needed comforting, and I was the only one around to give it.
Robotically, I slowly wound my arms around her back and gave her an awkward pat. I wasnt sure f that was the right thing to do, but whenever I saw Acadia sniffle a little after finding out my grades had yet again beat her, Padma Patil would always rub her back and say 'its alright, you'll get her next term'. "Y-you really think so?" she looked at me with something that could only be identified as hope in her hazel eyes. "I know so," I replied, trying to make my voice as warm as possible.
"Its alright Chelsea, he's not worth it anyway," I slowly twist Padma's words to fit the situation I was currently dealing with.
"Coming," I reply softly as I make my way out of the washroom.
Walking through the corridors with Rivet, I cant help but think how much this year has changed in just a few hours. We weren't surprised when we saw Harry Potter emerge victorious from the maze, but rather, we were shocked to see the condition of the person who he was clutching on to.
In the back of my mind, I cant help but wonder how next year will be. Will it be as catastrophic as this year, with the death of a student?As Rivet and I enter the great hall we immediately make our way over to the Ravenclaw table to find Chelsea. The Ravenclaw table was in an unfortunate place between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. Its common knowledge that these two houses to not get along under any circumstances. I preferred the Gryffindors over the Slytherins because they tend to be more knowledgeable and frankly, a lot nicer. I usually become a target to mockery from the Slytherins because of my quiet demeanor.
Stuck in my own mind I wasn't paying attention to where I was walking, and seemed to have bumped into something, well, rather someone.
I look up into the bright green eyes of the Tri Wizard Tournaments champion. Harry Potters long hair was hanging around his face in a mop-like fashion. He was much taller then me, although, most people are. But looking up at him I noticed that his usually striking face looked worn and tired, but above all, terrified.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," He spoke to me in a kind but tired tone.
"Its okay, I wasn't looking were I was walking," I replied in a soft tone as I looked into his troubled eyes.
He nodded and slowly made him way to the Gryffindor table.
"Hes so kind, even now," Rivet looks at his retreating back with admiration in her eyes. Rivet never admitted it, but I could tell that she had a small crush on the Boy Who Lived. The lingering glances, the accidental dropping of quills, and the large blushes that flair across her cheeks whenever he smiled at her. Sometimes I felt bad for her, after all, he seemed to be infatuated with Cho Chang.
"Attention students, please take your seats," The load voice of our Headmaster, Dumbledore boomed around the great hall.
I tugged on Rivets sleeve and slowly lead her to the table with the rest of the Ravenclaws.
I search the crowd sitting at the blue and bronze table, until I find Chelsea, sitting with Cho Chang. I Sneak a glance at Rivet to see her reaction to this, Rivet looks at me, then looks back at Chelsea and Cho, her hazel eyes hardening at the though of sitting near her "competition". Rivet takes my hand and leads me to an empty seat at the front of the table, right up close to Professor Dumbledore.
I look up into the wise twinkling blue eyes of our headmaster. Even though he looks impassive I can tell that there is a hidden sorrow in the way the wrinkles on his forehead deepen, and the way he twirls his bears around his fore, and middle finger. The headmaster was always there for every student, every ethnicity, every blood type, in all the years of being at this school, I have never heard that he had refused to help someone in need. Dumbledore was a man of few words, but those few words could change a generation if need be.
"Attention, attention students," He repeated for the second time as all the first years got their barrings together and sat down at their designated tables.
Dumbledore took a deep breath, and silenced the hall with the first words of his speech.
"Today we acknowledge a really terrible loss. Cedric Diggory was, as you all know, exceptionally hard working, infinitely fair-minded, and most importantly, a fierce, fierce friend," He said looking around the hall.
"Therefore, I feel you have the right to know exactly how he died. You see, Cedric Diggory was murdered, by Lord Voldemort," My sudden intake of breath was loud, and involuntary. But looking around, no one seemed to notice, because it seemed that everyone else had the same reaction I had. After all the Dark Lords name was something that shouldn't be taken lightly.
"The Ministry of Magic does not wish me to tell you this. But not to do so I feel would be an insult to his memory. Now the pain we all feel at this dreadful loss reminds me, and, reminds us, that though we may come from different countries and speak in different tongues, our hearts beat as one," He stated, as though it was a fact, rather then an opinion. As he said this, he also looked pointedly at the Slytherin table. He took a deep breath, and continued on with his memorium.
"In light of the recent events, the bonds of friendship made this year will be more important than ever. Remember that, and Cedric Diggory will not have died in vain," With that last statement, I couldn't help but feel like that was wrong. If He Who Must Not Be Named really did kill Diggory, I doubt that he did it because he had something against him, but rather, he died because he chose to get in the way of his real target, Harry Potter.
As that thought goes through my mind, I cant help but be ashamed of my thoughts, Cedric Diggory deserved a Honorable death, and who was I not to give it to him.
"You remember that, and we'll celebrate a boy who was kind, and honest, and brave, and true. Right to the very end," Dumbledore finished up his speech with this last sentence that summed up Diggory in a nutshell. Looking around to the back of the hall, noticed two weeping figures that I could only conclude were Diggorys parents. I choose to look away at the strong show of emotion.
The feast was slow and quiet. No doubt from the silent mourning of losing a fellow classmate, that deep down, everyone thought there was a chance of said classmate being them.
"When you are done eating, I ask you to go up to your dorms, and pack for the train that will bring you home. I wish you all have a safe summer." Dumbledore said, the last words of the year addressed to the students in a kind voice.
***
As I look around at my now empty dorm room i think about the words Dumbledore had said earlier. The sudden image of Potter clutching Diggorys dead body to himself earlier in the night makes me a little queasy. I didn't know him, but I will never forget Cedric Diggory.
Fourth year sure has been a trip, I think as I slowly close the door to my empty dorm room. Hopefully fifth year will be better.