Chapter Two
I was sitting in my bedroom at Ashe manor when Fatigo came gliding through my open window. Since he'd delivered nothing but letters from Draco and Willow all summer, I was surprised to see him with a Hogwarts letter trapped in his beak. When I eagerly, yet nervously, broke open the envelope, I saw that it was a permission form for Hogsmede trips. This would be the first year I'd be allowed to partake.
Immediately, I skipped downstairs to find Mother. She and I had been talking excitedly about Hogsmede for the past month. I knew she'd sign the paper happily. Unfortunately, before I could find her, I ran into Father.
"What do you have there?" he asked, gesturing at the form that waved in my trembling grasp.
"Permission form to Hogsmeade," I muttered nervously, "Will you sign it?"
"Why?" he snarled, "So you can go to Honeyduke's and get even fatter?"
I looked at my feet as my cheeks heated in humiliation. Ever since my body begun to change, Father explained it by saying I'd been gaining weight. Draco told me that it was because he just didn't want me to grown up…but I knew better. Father just saw it as another excuse to torment me.
"No," I replied, taking a deep breath and forcing my voice to stay calm and confident, "So I can spend some time with Draco outside of school."
He watched me for a few seconds, and I forced myself to stare back. My eyes were begging to look away, but I continued staring. I'd played a card he couldn't refuse. I was well aware that the Ashes and Malfoys wanted Draco and I to marry when we were old enough. It would be a perfect way to ensure our families were brought even closer, and more importantly, that our massive funds were combined.
"Can you sign it?" I asked again before my mouth could agree with my mind.
I even accidentally thrust the paper closer to him.
He sneered down at it, and I expected him to say no. To make fun of me further. To take the piece of parchment and tear it up. To shove past me without saying anything more. I didn't expect him to pull his enchanted eagle feather quill out of his suit jacket.
Still sneering, he snatched the form out of my hand and scrawled his name on the blank line. I reached out my hand to take it back, but instead, he dropped it to the ground at his feet. Then he retreated down the hall like the encounter had never happened.
"You know what people are saying about Sirius Black?" Draco asked, and he answered without waiting for a response, "They're saying he's the Dark Lord's right hand."
I almost had to stop myself from laughing out loud.
I didn't know much about Sirius Black, but I was certain that he was not the right hand.
We were collecting our new school supplies at Diagon Alley when he'd brought it up. While shopping at Flourish and Blotts for new books, Mr. Malfoy had gone to the apothecary to buy our potions supplies for the year. Now, Draco and I searched for our third year books alone.
In addition to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Potions, third years were allowed to take Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. I was excited for Divination, but the COMC book was the most fun to collect. It was entitled "The Monster Book of Monsters" and was alive and dangerous, and when the book salesman went to grab two copies for me and Draco, one bit his arm.
We'd been enjoying ourselves when Draco brought up Black again like it was juicy gossip instead of a terrifying event. Especially terrifying since Mr. Malfoy refused to tell us anything more about Black. Regardless, I could tell that Draco was scared. He was generally pretty bad at hiding his fear.
"Do you think it's true?" he continued, "About Black being with the Dark Lord."
"Not really," I commented absently.
The death eaters would have mentioned him if he was that important. If I wasn't destined to be the Dark Lord's second, Bellatrix Lestrange surely was.
"Why not?"
"He'd be more famous if he was, don't you think?" I replied.
"I guess," he commented, "They're making a big deal about this, though. It was even on the muggle news."
"That's because," Lucius' voice came from behind us, making us freeze, "no one's ever escaped from Azkaban before. The Ministry is mistaking a technical prison error for an incredible amount of power."
He took a step forward, and I felt his heavy hand come to rest on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that his other hand fell on Draco's. He squeezed gently.
"As for Black, I already told you not to speak about him."
"That's difficult to do when you refuse to say anything about him," I shot back, glancing up and over my shoulder so that I was looking at him. At first, he snarled, but then a smirk slowly spread over his face.
"I suppose that's fair. All I'll tell you is that he is not affiliated with the Dark Lord. So you can now stop your absurd guessing game. And I'd advise both of you to feign total ignorance throughout this entire situation. It's best not to get involved."
I glanced and Draco, and it was clear that he was about as satisfied with this answer as I was – which is to say, not at all.
"Anything off the trolley, dears?" the witch on the Hogwarts Express asked when she made it to our compartment.
"A cauldron cake and two pumpkin pasties," Draco replied, ordering for both of us even though he hadn't asked what I wanted.
He hadn't needed to.
He knew what I liked.
The witch handed us our items as Crabbe and Goyle began their long order. Pansy sat across the compartment from Draco. She didn't even look up at the witch. For the most part, she sat silently, staring out the window, but every once and a while, I would catch her sneaking a furtive glance at Draco. And without fail, her cheeks heated if he were to look back at her.
A burning of envy flowed through me like thick, boiling water running through my veins.
"I'm bored," Draco complained as we finished our pastries, "Get up and walk around with me?"
I had been perfectly entertained previewing my transfiguration text book for the year, particularly the section on animagi, but I was still quick to accept Draco's offer to stretch my legs. Leaving Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy behind, we left the compartment and walked out into aisle train.
"Have you seen Willow?" I asked as I glanced into the compartments we passed.
"No," he scoffed.
After the Chamber incident, he was able to deduce that she was muggle born, which hurt his already shaky relationship with her. But had a suspicion that his newfound dislike had to do with something a little more serious than her blood purity.
Draco understood that the main reason I'd even been in the Chamber was to protect her. And he also understood that I'd almost died to ensure her safety. He could have lost me, and in his eyes, Willow would have been responsible.
The three of us hadn't been together since the Chamber, but I wasn't looking forward to the thick and predictable tension when Draco and Willow saw each other again. And while I continued looking for Willow in the compartments we passed, I didn't bring her up again to Draco.
So we walked in a comfortable silence until we stumbled upon Harry's compartment. Sitting with him was Weasley, Hermione, and another man I didn't recognize. The only thing that was quite clear was that he was no student. This was odd. I'd never seen a teacher riding the Hogwarts express before. Usually they found other means of getting to Hogwarts.
Draco quickly detoured into their compartment, and I found myself offering a warm smile to Harry and Hermione. I found that I didn't really care what Draco thought of my friendships with them anymore. I enjoyed their company, and we shared a mutual trust. I wouldn't forsake them, just as I knew Draco wouldn't forsake me.
The trio looked slightly older as well. Hermione's body had changed similarly to how mine had, and her hair looked shorter and thinner. She looked pretty. Harry and Ron didn't look too different, but it was clear that they'd given up their childish looks for something a little more mature.
"Well, well. Look who it is," Draco sneered nastily, "Potty and Weasel. I heard your father got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley. Did your mother die of shock?"
I wasn't an avid reader of the daily prophet, but I knew exactly what Draco was talking about. I received my news from Draco, Lucius, my mother, or occasionally my father. However, it wasn't from Draco that I'd heard this information. It was from Lucius as he muttered about it over tea one afternoon.
But as soon as the words left Draco's mouth, Harry and Weasley were on their feet. I stepped between them, my back to Draco, but effortlessly, he wrapped an arm around my waist and swung me out of the way. I just barely stopped myself from crashing into the side of the doorway as Draco took a threatening step towards the trio.
But then, he noticed the middle-aged man sleeping in the corner.
"Who's that?" he asked.
"New Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," Hermione answered.
She was still sitting down, a book opened in her lap.
"So I wouldn't do anything, if I were you," she added, looking back down at the book.
Draco paused, glaring at Harry and Weasley. Then he pivoted and shoved me into the hallway. He followed as I stumbled over my feet, and he slid the door shut after him.
"C'mon," he snarled, continuing back to our own compartment. He walked with purpose, but I refused to move.
"You know, you could be gentler with me. I don't appreciate being tossed around."
He paused, looking over his shoulder at me.
"You're right, Raven. I'm sorry. Now, come on."
I scowled, but if an argument was to be had, I didn't want to have it while we were still standing in front of the trio's compartment. Though I wasn't looking, I could feel their eyes on me, burning through the glass window. So I followed Draco.
We took our time, slowly walking through the dim hallway. We remained in silence until the tension between us seemed to dissipate. I had too big of a crush on Draco to stay mad at him for long. Besides, years of friendship seemed to remove the word 'grudge' from our vocabulary.
Because it was late, the train could no longer be lit by natural light coming through the windows. The corridor was now only lit by the soft glow of lanterns, and our small talk – when it started once more – was accompanied by the gentle patter of rain against the windows.
As we passed by a window, there was a group of Ravenclaw students sitting in silence. Out of the six that were in the compartment, four had books open in their laps. One had a stack of closed books in her lap. And one was holding an open journal and a pen.
He was also the only one who wasn't looking out the window or reading.
When I glanced up his body towards his face, I saw that he was staring right back at me.
Our eyes met, and there was a moment of familiarity that passed between us. I knew I'd seen him before, but I couldn't remember from where. And I knew I felt this feeling before of something stirring deep within me. It was something that felt a little bit like dread, but also like longing.
I was torn between wanting to run down the hallway and wanting to run into his cabin.
Neither happened. I just continued walking with Draco at our leisurely pace until the boy with slicked, black hair disappeared from my sight.
"Raven," Draco muttered, slowing to a stop a few compartments away from our own, "I've been wanting to talk to you about something."
"Yes?" I prompted, trying not to get my hopes up, but I was still breathless from making eye contact with the boy. The writer.
Besides, I didn't want to assume Draco was planning on asking me to be his girlfriend. I'd learned quickly that jumping to conclusions almost always led to disappointment.
"Well, we've been friends for a really long time, but-."
He stopped when the lights suddenly flickered out.
I could no longer see anything, but I could feel. Draco's hands were suddenly holding mine and his breath gently tickled strands of my hair. However, apart from those two sensations, it was like I wasn't even on the train anymore. I was standing in the middle of infinity.
Or like I had been submerged in one of those muggle contraptions.
A sensory deprivation tank?
Muggles were into strange things, but I supposed that was because they couldn't create their own magic.
I felt Draco pull me along, towards our compartment. I heard the door slide open before I was yanked through. Then it was slid shut again.
"What's going on?" I asked Draco as he gently sat me next to him.
"I don't know," he replied.
"No one does," Pansy added.
My eyes began to adjust to the little moonlight coming through the window, but before that, the only indication that it was truly our compartment was Crabbe and Goyle's heavy breathing and Pansy's voice.
Seconds later, I heard the door slide open again. Squinting, I could barely make out the silhouette of a person entering. They had long hair and were dressed in Hogwarts robes. As they came closer, I shrunk against Draco nervously before I noticed the Slytherin crest on the breast of their cloak.
"Willow?" I hissed.
"Raven!" she whimpered back in relief.
Instead of verbally replying, I reached for her. Careful not to startle her, I gently grabbed her hand and tugged her over to me.
"What's happening?" she asked, sitting down beside me.
"No one knows," I answered.
Then my eyes were drawn to the hallway, through the glass door. What looked like a floating, black cloak was drifting down through the train. I couldn't see in great detail, but it looked like a child on Halloween dressed as a ghost in a black sheet.
It passed our door, but that did nothing to calm anyone down. The arm Draco had around my shoulders tightened, and his other hand came up to the back of my head and pushed it into his chest. Willow, on my other side, was hanging onto my arm like it was the only thing keeping her from sinking into the seat.
After a while, it was apparent that the thing wouldn't be coming back, but that didn't keep all twelve of our wide eyes from staring back at the door in case it returned.