CHAPTER 1
"What do you want?" I asked him, eyeing him quite irritably, seeing as he decided to plop himself down, quite elegantly, quite unexpectedly and arrogantly, like a predator who had found his prey across from me.
"Say, Hermione," he began, twirling his wand, in a way I'm sure he assumed to be appealing, "It's Granger for you," I cut him, before he could say further "Granger," he said, with a roll of his eyes and slight lope sided smile on appearing on his face, "how have you been?" he said, after what seemed to be eons.
I eyed him critically.
I couldn't come up with a reason to humor him, so I said, "What is it, really, that you want to ask me? Help for homework? If that's it, then come on out with it and say it, because if you hadn't noticed, I was, before you interrupted me quite rudely, reading something rather important and more interesting than this conversation that we're, rather you've got going on ."
He stared. "Do you need me to repeat that? I'd rather not, seeing as it is quite exhausting and – why are you getting up and walking towards me?" I said, the last part quite nervously as I reached for the wand in my dress robes. He was towering over me. In a very masculine effort to intimidate me, I think. I sighed, trying to be as nonchalant about it, as possible, as I gripped the wand in my pocket tightly. I was going to hex him if he tried anything.
I'd heard about him from the other girls and I was not interested in being manhandled by him in an endeavour to feel 'feminine' or whatever it is that he thought he made the girls feel.
"Godric, you speak in such long sentences," he chuckled, "Anyhow, I was going to ask, you, Granger, if you were free this weekened to accompany me to hogsmeade."
It was my turn to stare. And I did. What on earth gave Cormac McLaggen the inkling that I would be ridiculous enough to accept such an offer!?
I stared. I cleared my throat. "Uh, actually, I have plans," I weakly said. He shuffled on feet. His smile wavered. I restrained myself from rolling my eyes. What a douche.
"Oh," he said.
"Yes," I said.
"What plans?"
I got annoyed. "Plans. With Harry and Ron -"
"Is it Riddle?" He spoke at the same time I did.
"What?" I asked him stonily.
"There's a rumour going around about you and Riddle and I'm asking you if it's true. I'm asking you if you're slithering around with that snake, and if that's why you decided to pretend to be such a prude suddenly by coming up with an excuse of having plans with Harry and Ron?"
I laughed. There was nothing else to do. "Leave, before I hex your balls off," I said coldly.
He glared at me, before he left. I heaved a sigh of relief. I wanted to punch him. I wanted to use the new Vortelio curse on him, I wanted to -
"That was dramatic," I heard someone drawl from behind me. I stiffened slightly, before relaxing.
"You heard?"
He took a seat across from me. "Yes, I did."
"It's terribly cliched and boring. The stuff that's been going around," I say, shrugging, trying to be nonchalant about it. I told myself I shouldn't feel embarrassed for someone if they were being linked with me. I was a person worthy of being linked to. All the years of pain and embarrassment I'd put myself through for not being perfect, or someone's idea of perfect– I was a perfectly pleasant person to be associated with.
"Is it, though?" He asked, in a semi-curious, semi-nonchalant tone. I hated it when he did this. Threw around curious rags of confusing words which made me wonder, really wonder what they really meant, and if they were at all clues to something larger – I thought too much, I knew it, the whole world knew it, the whole world asked me to stop it. And I did. At least tried to. Especially in moments like these.
"What do you mean?" I asked, finally looking him in the eye. I usually didn't like to look him in the eye much. It was daunting. But I think he knew it, and therefore, I didn't like the feeling of satisfaction that oozed off of him, or was it my imagination, I'm not sure, but I tried to maintain as much eye-contact as possible.
"What do you think I mean?" he crossed his arms, his dark eyes scanning my face for a twitch, for something that he thought I had in me to give him. I wasn't sure what. I needed him to stop looking at me like that. It was annoying. And made me curious.
"I don't know," I answered disinterestedly, I wanted to read my book, not participate whatever game he was interested in playing. I heard him sigh. Like he was disappointed. Like he was a teacher who was disappointed that even after many hints, the student wasn't clever enough to catch on. I hated it. I hid it. I turned my eyes to my book.
"Are you done with your Potions essay, I assume, if you're pursuing extracurricular reading?"
I nodded, not looking up, hoping he would get the hint and leave me.
"It's going to be a full moon tonight," He said. I looked up at him and nodded in acknowledgement. He nodded and gave me a unique Riddle smile that I knew he saved only for me, before he got up and left. I liked Riddle in times like these. Where he didn't intrude, where he got the hint and let me read, where he remained calm and never forgot our rituals. I read a couple of pages more before I decided to be on my way to the Heads' dormitory.
It was the night of the full moon, after all.
We shared a secret chemistry, Riddle and I, that we didn't want to share it with the entire world.
In private moments, he and I were almost friends, if I may use that word. We never really bothered with labels. Just our small rituals. It started the first time, I had seen the bruises on his arm the day we were summoned to Dippet's office, to be officially recognized as Heads of the student body.
We had shaken hands and I had seen the blue and black on the inside of his wrist, seeing as his dress shirt, in fact, his dress robes, were smaller for him and didn't cover the whole of his hands. He spotted me staring and glared at me, before pursing his lips and looking away. I didn't say anything until later the next night in the Heads Room, when I saw that they were still unhealed.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, thank you." He said, clearing his throat and stepping into his room.
"I'm pretty sure your arm is bruised badly. Did you break your arm, or something, this Summer?"
He didn't answer for a while. "Right. I need to -"
"I can heal it," I said, taking his arm, before he had a chance to withdraw. All these years, Riddle had been such a silent overacheiver, so perfect in everything, seeing him bruised, and broken, I felt a sick sort of pleasure, I was happier to see that I was the one who was able to help him – He tried to snatch his hand back, but I held on.
I was stronger than one could assume. "I can do it. It won't take more than a minute," I said, uncuffing his dirty dress robes, I chose to not comment on, and pushing them up. "We can sneak in some Skele-Grow later," I said.
"I didn't have time to heal myself," is all he says. I don't reply. "It's really nice outside," he adds a little later, after I'm done healing him. "It's full moon," he says, when I raise an eyebrow. He only beckons me into his room, which I go in hesitantly, but he is insistent and I cannot resist. He walked towards the window seat in his room, and opened the window and stepped out. I stared, a little stumped. He had disappeared!
"Come on out, what are you waiting for?" I heard his voice, beckoning me. And I followed. After stepping out, I saw that he had applied a cushioning charm and a sticking charm on the slanting wall above his window, as he lay down looking down at me. "Take a seat," he said, waiting for me to help myself up next to him. We just lay there, sharing one of the most bizarre moments ever experienced by either of us, I think. House rivalries were forgotten. Homework and assignments forgotten. We just let ourselves be, in the simplest and hardest of ways. We just let ourselves breathe and live.
The next day we pretended like nothing happened. But every fortnight when the moon was full and swollen, or the weather was unpredictably lovely, we'd venture out. We'd speak sometimes, but rarely. We didn't want to know about each other. The silence was content. The night was content with us. Our curiosities put to rest. He was a cold blooded snake inside the Castle and guilty of several crimes according to my best friends. I was of less than noble blood, and a know-it-all for him. And that was that. That was inside. But outside we were just us but not us, we were someone else but also us, but a part of us, so vulnerable and queit we'd rather not share it with anyone than each other. It was odd, yet satisfactory. Our little ritual, if I may even call it.
"Hello," I said politely as I lay beside him. He shifted a little to accommodate me. The moon was full tonight and the night was a little colder than I was prepared for. But I put on a warming spell on me, and him, and just lay next to him. He made no move to acknowledge my presence save for him moving a little to make space for me.
We lay there for a while after which I got up to leave. It was nice. But I had to get some sleep to make sure to get to class on time tomorrow. Next morning came early and I was eager to get to Muggle Studies on time; we were studying how wizards sometimes wrote under the guise of muggles and published their work under the guise of fictional experiences.
The play we were studying was Christopher Marlowe's 'Dr. Faustus' and his experience in the afterlife and his deal with the devil. Although the story was farfetched and blotted with fiction in parts impossible to occur even in the Wizarding World.
It was an interesting read, nevertheless. There was so much about religion and how it is intermixed with literature that we got to learn. And it was interesting how Marlowe was such a transgressing muggle/wizard. Having exiled himself from the wizarding world he had taken up writing, he wrote in the Renaissance period, parodying the seven deadly sins as opposed to the didactic morality plays wont to that era. I sighed. I wish I had someone to talk about this. The only person intelligent and interested enough to converse in the same language as me was Riddle, who unfortunately loathed Muggle Studies and all things muggle. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to find Riddle standing, with his arm stretched out in front of him. He was holding my lucky quill. I raised an eyebrow. I needed it only when we had any tests. I was silly and superstitious that way, you see. But we didn't have any tests today as per my knowledge.
"Surprise quiz," was all he said. Ah, that explained it. Slughorn. He was real chummy with Riddle. Of course, Riddle had everyone charmed. Except a few of course. But Slughorn, he had wrapped around his finger. Any surprise quizzes or tests wouldn't be so much of a surprise for Riddle, for he'd be already informed of those by the teacher himself. I groaned, as I took the quill from me.
"You could've told me yesterday. I would've revised," I said, a little annoyed that he had to inform me last minute.
"The test is on the essay you wrote anyway," He said falling into line beside me. We were outside our door, walking down the corridor. Still far away from The Great Hall. Far away from everyone. That is why we were still talking. I shifted the band of my satchel to the other shoulder of mine. It was heavy.
I frowned as I said, "How do you know what my essay was about?"
He gave me a stare. The Riddle Stare. Which said, 'Why do you even ask such inane questions?' He just knows everything. Apparently. What a douche. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.
"Thank you," I said, as we neared The Great Hall. He nodded and stopped, waiting for me to proceed, so he can walk in a little after me. We had a nice little facade going on, him and I. I walked in and greeted Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna and Dean, as the took a seat beside Dean.
"Good morning!" I said chirpily, feeling quite happy looking at my friends' faces. They all looked so grumpy and annoyed in the morning, it was really endearing and funny. I took out the new camera I had bought recently, to capture the memories of my senior and last year in Hogwarts, and clicked a few snaps of them, au naturale, and startled them.
"For Godric's sake, 'Mione! You startled me!" Ron whined. I giggled.
"Oh, give it a rest, Ron. I hope you've all done your Charms essay? We have to hand it in today. I did remind you guys yesterday morning," I said, adding three cubes of sugar to my tea and mixing it well. I loved all things sweet. I sniffed my tea as discreetly as possible before taking a long satisfying sip. Hmm. It felt so good. Especially when accompanied with multiple groans, even from Ginny, who wasn't even in the same year as us.
I chuckled. "tut tut, you all better run to to the library in the third period, we might have a free period...no you cannot have my essay, but I will be kind enough to tell you the names of the books you must look up in order to write your essay, also, while you're at it, we've to submit our Potions essay tomorrow, so make sure you're done with that too, and -" I couldn't help but let out a roar of laughter at the sulky groaning faces of my friends, "we may have a quiz today, in Potions."
"For Merlin's sake, how are we supposed to get anything done!?" Dean asked, exasperated, his head in his hands.
"Ah, don't worry, everything will be okay, just get on with it, go on," I said cheerfully.
"Happy Hermone is nauseating," Ron said. Everyone nodded aggressively. I couldn't help but laugh more.
"Oh, well, I'm off to class. See you in fourth period," I said, taking my bag and heading towards the door, but not before looking at Riddle and finding him looking back at me. I looked at the door and nodded slightly. He would know.
In Muggle Studies, we read more of Marlowe and my Second Period was Herbology, which was with Hufflepuffs and I was paired with the sweetest and slowest girl ever. Which made me very impatient and mean. Although I tried not to be so. Whenever I felt I was being impatient with her, I felt like I was becoming someone like Professor Snape was with Neville. I shuddered.
"Hermione, is this okay?" Marla held the cup of bublous pus in her hand, it was supposed to be measured to 50ml but I could see that she had measured it wrong and it was 52ml. I forced myself not to sigh and smiled. "Yes, it's perfect," I said, taking it into my hand. She gave me the sweetest and happiest smile, and I was happy to have lied. But I was also tired and annoyed. "Can you please fetch some more mandrake stems from Professor Sprout? I think I dropped a few around. I'm so clumsy."
She nodded earnestly, happy to see that I had made a mistake and not her. I tried not to roll my eyes at the self-important look that took over her. It's all for the greater good, I thought and was taken aback at the piece of thought I had internalized from my Transfiguration professor. I took advantage of Marla's absence and quickly measured the bulbous pus correctly this time and kept it ready until she returned from fetching the mandrake stems. I had stuffed the ones I had collected in my lab coat. When she returned, I chopped the mandrake stems and added it to the bulbous pus. This was supposed to be added to the wounds the Thestrals had suffered having been injured in the recent bombings occuring in the Muggle World at the moment. The bombings had been close to the wizarding establishment, and closer to Thestral pen. The thought of the Muggle War saddened and angered me. The Wizarding World was not doing nearly enough to save the world.
I shook the sadness out of my limbs like dandruff, and started walking towards the Thestrals. I could see them, so could Marla. Since we were one of the few ones to have got the healing paste right at our first attempt, we were allowed to go off alone outside, with the others, to apply the paste to the wounds of Thestrals. I wasn't very keen on doing it. Not because I was disgusted of the wounds, which I was, but also because it would remind me of my own futility in the world at a very important time. But I think it was a very important reminder.
Marla and I quietly walked to our Thestral, the creature moanded and howled softly. Marla walked towards it confidently, while I followed hesitantly. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing. She knelt down beside the Thestral. And took out a carrot from her pocket. I was surprised.
"I – I read they're like the muggle animals, horses, and they like, carrots too, so, I brought some..." She explained, blushing lightly, I smiled encouragingly. I had undermined her, like I always did, with people. I was surprised to find this trait in me to undermine people constantly. "Would you want to...?" She looked at me expectantly. I nodded, eagerly. I took a carrot from her and sat next to her as I petted our Thestral on his head softly. There was a huge wound on his underbelly which was pressed against the grass. After the Thestral seemed to trust us, we started trying to coax it into lying on its side. The sight was ghastly. The wound was ghastly. The reality of war and death was ghastly. The irony was ghastly.
We applied the paste onto its belly and it moaned and sighed in satisfaction. Marla had tears running down her face, I noticed. I held mine in. We stayed with the Thestral even when the period was over. There was a soft lull of sadness, sickness and healing that had taken over this part of the grounds and everything and everyone moved in a synchorinized sadness of loss and recovery. We promised to spend an hour every Sunday with our Thestral.
I spotted Neville far away from me, he was helping people who were having difficulty getting their Thestral to cooperate. He was such a kind soul, I wish I had that much kindness in me. I wonder how it felt to be able to give so much, and still feel full and happy. I wonder if that is what love was. I wonder how much Neville loved the world. And how it felt to love so much and not feel empty for giving so much of yourself to world like he did.
Later that night lying against Riddle's wall, I breathed out the tears I had been holding in. The futility and smallness of my existence hit me and I cried. I felt someone – Riddle, take his place beside me. I cried, my mouth gaped, my body curled , my arms holding myself, so much of death and destruction, so much of desolation. So much of death and sadness. So much of too much and here I was with all my power and magic, I was still only pathetically human and selfish and juvenile. I cried. I cried until I was spent.
"You broke into my room," Riddle said, after a long time. I wiped my nose across my sleeve and didn't deign myself to reply. "The password is green socks," he said after a while. That warranted a watery giggle from me.
I was thankful. I was going to be okay. I was going to save someone someday. I was going to be help someone someday. I knew it. I needed to find courage first.
