Crucie missed Hogwarts, but she knew she would miss her family more from the moment she boarded the train. Standing on King's Cross Station with the Malfoys, Crucie sighed. She turned at Lucius and on a whim she hugged him. The man was completely taken by surprise.
"I'll miss you, uncle Lucius."
Slightly awkwardly, Lucius patted Crucie on her back.
"I'll miss you too Crucio…"
"Tell uncle Rabastan that I love him, okay?"
"Err… Sure. I will."
"I love you too, you know."
"Thanks. I… Err… I appreciate you too little one."
Crucie knew that was probably the most affectionate thing Lucius Abraxas Malfoy had ever said to anyone in public. When she finally released him from her hug, Crucie caught Draco's look. Ouch, if looks could kill… She giggled and resisted the urge to send her cousin a painful jab. After all, she had gotten a hug from Mr Malfoy whereas Draco had not, that should count as enough for now. Crucie got on the train and found herself an empty compartment. She let Timor out of his cat-bench and softly patted him.
"Back to Hogwarts, Timor… You looking forward to it too?"
"Mew."
"I knew you did."
Looking over her empty compartment, Crucie sighed. Usually she went to sit with Pansy's clique, but this time Pansy was hanging around (and on) Draco, and the other girls has spread over the train. Crucie hoped Daphne would come and sit with her. Eventually that didn't happen, instead she got the only two Slytherin boys she didn't think were complete idiots, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. She didn't know Blaise too well, but Theodore wasn't a ridiculously-easy-to-frighten appendage to Draco anymore, which was a definite improvement. He also seemed to have grown since the last time Crucie had really paid any attention to him. They didn't talk much, and during the train ride Crucie kept to herself mostly.
When the Hogwarts Express stopped, she felt something wasn't right. It just felt… wrong, the kind of wrong she knew from living in Malfoy Manor. Desperately wrong. She shivered involuntarily. The other two boys in her compartment seemed to feel it too. Something awful and desperate hung in the air and neither of them knew what it was. When the compartment door opened, they knew it. Theodore's eyes widened in pure fear as a tall, hooded creature entered, and with it all the positive feelings got drained from the space. Crucie didn't think she had ever felt so… so empty, devoid of every good feeling… She just sat there and stared. Theodore appeared to be having some kind of panic attack, Blaise tried to look at something else, and Crucie stared. The creature turned her way, and it was as if suddenly she was somewhere else. Empty grey corridors, flashes of faces, screaming, familiar curls, despair… Crucie didn't realize she was crying until someone shook her.
"Crucie, it's gone, wake up!"
She blinked and was back in the compartment, where Blaise Zabini was worriedly shaking her. Embarrassed, she dried her tears.
"I'm sorry."
"Seriously, Theo thought that thing had stolen your soul or something!"
"No… It was a warning."
Crucie's eyes met Theodore's, and she knew he understood what she meant. After all, the Lestranges hadn't been the only ones to get captured and thrown in Azkaban.
Her mind wandered back to the "Wanted" posters she had seen all over Diagon Alley. Sirius Black. A family member she had never met. Uncle Rabastan had told her long ago already that he was not one of them, and that the family wasn't on speaking terms with him. Nevertheless, Crucie was curious after the man. He had been There, where her parents were as well. Maybe he had seen them, spoken to them… and she wished for nothing more than news about her family, no matter how… awful it might be. She felt she had to know, even though that small sliver the dementor had granted her had already made her cry.
To know that her parents were There, deprived of all happiness, never seeing the sunlight, maddened with their own memories… Crucie hid her trembling hands from the boys. They didn't need to see her distress. Her dear family… Internally, Crucie felt like she could fall to her knees and wail, just wail in agony. Outwards she showed nothing of sorts, all she did was taking Timor on her lap and letting the cruciatus curse loose on him, unseen by the others. Control, it all came down to control.
The rest of the trip passed in relative silence only broken by Timor's loud mewing and purring, but the strange occurrence hung heavily between them…
(Pagebreak)
Everyone was looking forward to the classes given by new professors, eager to see if the new DADA professor would be any improvement, and whether or not Hagrid's biting monster books would devour someone before the first class. Surprisingly enough, it was a very, very old professor who gave the first interesting class. It wasn't he who made the class interesting though. Everyone was surprised to find not one but two ghosts in Professor Binns' classroom for the term's first History of Magic lesson.
"Nah-nah-nah-nah-naaaah!"
"And the goblin rebellion leader Radock was beheaded by…"
"Nah-NAH-NAH-NAH-NAAAAH!"
"… And the third accomplice in charge of the…"
"NA-NAH-NAHNAHNAAAH-NA-NA-NA-NA-NAAAHNAAAH!"
"Will you stop that Myrtle?"
"No."
"Myrtle."
"No."
"MYRTLE!"
"Well, if you wouldn't be so boring I wouldn't feel the need to interrupt you."
"I am not boring, you are simply vindictive because I gave you only a Dreadful for my class."
"Yes, you are boring. I mean, look around! Everyone would be sleeping if not for me! You have the most boring voice ever! Always droning on and on about the same damn boring subject!"
Moaning Myrtle tauntingly floated around Professor Binns, who glared at her in a surprisingly alive way. Annoyed he remarked.
"Myrtle, why don't you go back to your toilet and let me give my classes?"
"Well, unless that passed you by among with the history of the last 400 years, you should know my toilet is currently the habitual haunt of a fifty feet long BASILISK!" Myrtle looked indignant, but then grinned. "Not to mention that your classroom is far more interesting than that dreary toilet. Really, that place would make anyone cry."
Probably for the first time since long, Professor Binns had the class's full attention. Not that he could make good use of that. He was growing visibly vexed with Myrtle's ghost.
"Myrtle, you were such a nice girl when I had you in my class. What happened to you?"
"Spending fifty years in a toilet crying over being killed by a basilisk, and then discovering said basilisk has decided to come live there as well tends to do that to a person."
Professor Binns sighed.
"Fine, I see your point. You don't want to go back to your toilet. But why must you bother me with that!?"
"Because… because reasons!"
Myrtle pouted and floated circles around the exasperated professor. Everyone was now chuckling and giggling under their breaths, and Professor Binns appeared to realize the goblin rebellions would have to be taught another time.
"Class dismissed. I'm seeing the headmaster about this, Myrtle!"
Angrily, Professor Binns floated through the wall, leaving Myrtle cackling madly. Daphne bent to Crucie while they left the class.
"Wow… Moaning Myrtle has gone mad…"
"Yeah… apparently she has… It suits her better than the crying, I think."
"If she releases us from Binns then she has my full support…"
(Pagebreak)
After ditching the Pansy Clique, Crucie decided to make use of her spare time to visit her favourite "inhabitant" of Hogwarts, the one she had missed most.
"Hi there Mr Slytherin!"
"Missss Lessstrange…"
Crucie looked at the portrait, and was surprisingly enough met with a kind smile. She grinned.
"How were the holidays for you?"
"Your chrissssstmasss favour hassss brought me much joy… Sssshe isss very eager to meet you."
"Really?"
"Ah yessss… You are her Ignitor, sssso ssshe ssssharesss a certain connection with you."
"Wow… So… does she really haunt Myrtle's toilet?"
"Tssss… no, of courssse not. Sssshe hauntssss the whole cassstle. Don't worry, ssshe'll find you."
Suddenly, Crucie heard a loud hissing sound, and at the same time an unfamiliar deep female voice in her head.
"Someone talking about me?"
A moment later, the head of the basilisk ghost protruded from one of the corridor's walls. Salazar hissed something at the snake while pointing at Crucie.
The serpent bent towards her. She hissed, but at the same time Crucie heard the voice in her head again.
"So you are the hatchling that freed my spirit… Strange Pain, what an unusual name…"
"Err… How can I understand you? I… I don't mean to be rude, Miss Regina… but as far as I know I'm not a parselmouth…"
Both Salazar and the basilisk let out a similar hissing laugh that brought the blush to Crucie's cheeks.
"Assss I sssaid, you are the Ignitor of Regina'sss funeral pyre. Trough your connection you can undersssstand her."
"Oh. That's… nice."
"My Master speaks about you often, Strange Pain… a special female you are… I thank you for freeing me, consider me in your debt."
It was very strange; Crucie heard hissing, but her mind heard a human voice. It was a bit like synchronic translation. She smiled at Regina.
"You're welcome. I just wanted to make a friend happy."
"You certainly did."
"I wonder though… why do you call me Strange Pain?"
The portrait chuckled.
"It'ssss the parssseltongue transsslation of your name. Human namessss are particularly challenging to transsslate properly."
"Oh, I see."
"Sssso, care to tell ussss what you've been doing during the sssummer? I told Regina of your 'talent', and ssshe isss very interesssted to hear how you put it to use…"
Any awkwardness -that may have existed due to the strange nature of a serpent ghost, a magical portrait and a third year student meeting in an abandoned corridor- instantly disappeared as Crucie started telling them about her adventures, and a little later it was as if they had known each other for far longer already. Regina was truly a fascinating person, although indeed a little preoccupied with… mating. Crucie started to fear that she might have accidentally released a one-snake-matchmaking-service on herself…
(Author's Notes)
IMPORTANT INFORMATION HERE!
After a rather lengthy discussion with the lovely Qoheleth on the topic of the Lestrange Family Curse that was mentioned n the last chapter, I have decided to add a bit of an explanation of it here. In case you're just going to take the whole thing as it is, deus-ex-machina-style, don't read this. In case you're interested to know the idea behind it, READ IT! I know it's lengthy. Sorry.
*EXTRA INFORMATIVE PIECE*
The wording of a contract is often traditional and very old. Arranged marriages mostly aren't a matter of love, even when the contract specifies both parties have to "love, cherish and respect" the other, or something along those lines. It's simply the tradition to perform the ritual with that wording.
It is definitely true that one shouldn't sign a contract unthinkingly or without meaning it, but then again, when the wording of the contract is so old and standardized I can imagine people would forget that there may be consequences to breaking it that go beyond legal penalties, family feud and shame...
I do think Rabastan knew very well what he was getting into with the contract of betrothal, he himself had no intention of breaking it when he signed it.
As for the matter of "love"... The action of lovemaking is certainly not inhibited by the curse, and neither is physical attraction. (for proof, see Rabastan's over-active sexlife :P) The emotion however... (now I'm going to get mushy and fluffy, be warned)
With "true love" I meant a concept I once came across in a book I once read, I've forgotten the title but wrote down the quote because I liked it so much. (it's translated, forgive me if it sounds odd):
"To truly love is to see the soul behind the face, behind the actions. There are no ugly souls, only blind eyes... And we are all looking for the eyes that can see our soul."
The curse can't make someone "fall in love" with someone else, as in causing extreme infatuation or physical attraction, and it can't replace a bond of close friendship either... Instead it makes the cursed "see the soul" of his betrothed, it opens his mind to the inner beauty of that person in a way that can't be reversed or stopped. To be confronted with something like that is scarring, it makes everything else pale in comparison... it creates a need, a compulsion almost, to be accepted by said person, to be with that person.
Also, I believe that once the "seeing" has taken place under influence of the curse, no other person can be "seen" in that manner by the cursed again, therefor making a similar bond with someone else impossible.
So, technically the curse doesn't oblige the cursed to be in a relationship with his betrothed, he doesn't die or lose his magic if he breaks the contract, and he is still capable of having sex with or being attracted to other people... But all other people would be less attractive than the betrothed, because the curse has opened his mind to her true beauty. Even if she is physically unappealing, or doesn't have the nicest character, for there are no ugly souls. (let's not mention Voldemort here, I do think souls that got ripped apart can be ugly.)
*END EXTRA INFORMATIVE PIECE*
So, back to Author's Notes:
Yes, Crucie can understand Regina. I liked the concept of Regina, the slightly perverted bane of Myrtle's existence, a bit too much to keep her incomprehensible. I hope you guys don't mind.
The vision-thing Crucie experienced on the train, let's call it some evil dementor trick. I don't really want to get into that, but if anyone asks I'll devise some explanation for it.
Questions? I'll answer them. Critics? I NEED THEM! Compliments? They motivate me ;)
PLEASE REVIEW! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!