2nd September 1968
Chapter Three: Spaces and New Faces.
Andromeda and her classmates were back, as though they'd never been away, in their dusty and gloomy classroom. There was a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher though, as there had been every year for a long time. Some of the more insipid girls of Andromeda's class were giggling, whispering and fiddling with their hair. Andromeda paid them no attention. Instead, she opened the letter that had arrived for her earlier in the day. It was tricky business finding privacy in the Slytherin dungeons. Andromeda was grateful for the new teacher's imminent arrival. He was like an unwitting antelope approaching a pack of hungry hyenas.
Dear Andromeda,
Your father and I had to find out from Sigmund Gamp that Narcissa had been sorted into Slytherin, which was embarrassing for us. Tell Narcissa that we shall be having words with her at Christmas. But also, please-
"WOOF! WOOF!"
"Fuck off!"
"WOOF! aaWOOOOOOOOOO!"
"FUCK OFF!"
Doreen Shunpike had entered the classroom, late as usual.
Doreen Shunpike was Andromeda's only friend. She'd become so by being brave enough not to run away from Andromeda's scary sister in first year. Inevitably, Doreen and Bellatrix despised each other. Bellatrix was nasty, with a vicious temper and cruel eyes. Doreen was ugly, with matted hair and piano teeth. Bellatrix was bad-tempered. Doreen was vulgar. Bellatrix was a whore. Slag. Cocktease. Doreen was a gutter-rat. A creature. A dyke. It was Doreen who started Bellatrix's nickname. Snake. Because of Doreen, people hissed at Bellatrix in the corridors. It was Bellatrix who started Doreen's nickname. Dog. Because of Bellatrix, people woofed and howled at Doreen. This five-year war had lead to people nicknaming Andromeda too. Puppy. She'd be lost and alone without the Dog. The Dog protected her from the predators. And yet, for some reason, The Puppy wouldn't stop playing with The Snake.
"Greta fucking Gamp..." growled Doreen as she threw her bag on the floor and squeezed onto the bench beside Andromeda. "One day, she's gunna push me over the edge and I'll curse her straight into the hospital wing. Who's that from?" Doreen started to read the letter over Andromeda's shoulder.
"My mother. Funny you should mention Greta. She's owled her father with news of my sister's Sorting in the space of twenty four hours. How very strange."
Doreen rolled her eyes and turned round to face the back, where girls were still howling and woofing. "CAN'T MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS, CAN YOU, GRETA! HOW'S YOUR OLD MAN?"
"Doreen!" Andromeda hissed, grabbing her friend's cloak collar and turning her back round.
At the same time, the doors to the classroom rattled and swung open. Sunshine from the corridor lit up the centre aisle.
Ted Tonks, a lanky fair-haired Hufflepuff boy, ran in carrying an enormous stack of text books, which swayed as he moved. The pile buckled. As they began to fall, Ted practically dived at the teacher's desk and the books came crashing down onto it. Most of the class laughed as Ted went bright red, gathering the books up again.
"Settle down, please, class," said an unfamiliar, deep, soothing voice.
The room fell silent, except for the sound of Ted Tonks piling up textbooks.
Then, a slow rhythmic tapping sound echoed around the room, like a ticking grandfather clock. Andromeda watched the shadows. From within them, a tall, skinny fair-haired man emerged. Andromeda guessed him to be barely forty, but he wore thick-framed glasses and a tweed suit and hobbled down the aisle with the help of a wooden walking stick.
In a way, he resembled Ted Tonks: fair curly hair, long neck, bony.
"Sweet Merlin, that's him!" whispered Doreen.
"A little bit more light, I think..." decreed the man. Even Andromeda, who liked to think she was not as shallow as most other girls in fifth year, felt her insides turn to jelly a bit.
The man flicked his wand in the direction of the windows and the shutters prised open, letting sunlight flood the room once more after the doors shut. Everyone groaned for a second, then fell completely silent.
The man reached the front of the class and turned round to face the students.
"Good morning, class," he said.
"Good morning, Professor..." the class hesitated.
"Professor Fogget. Archibald Fogget. I'm your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Well, at least there was somebody pleasant to look at... and listen to.
Professor Fogget moved to the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk.
"Fourth year is notoriously dull for those who prefer the practical elements of this art," he explained as he began writing his name on the board. "I'm afraid I cannot be held responsible for your Repetitive Strain Injuries obtained by your note-taking."
Some students groaned.
"Sir?" called a boy from the other side of the classroom.
"Yup?"
"Was you a Hufflepuff at school, Sir?"
It was Brian Peverell who'd spoken. A few of his cronies were sniggering. He too was stifling a grin.
Professor Fogget turned round. "What makes you think I was a Hufflepuff?"
Brian shrugged. "Just guessing."
Professor Fogget raised an eyebrow and put down his chalk. "I was a Slytherin, actually."
Brian Peverell's nostrils flared. Andromeda guessed he was trying hard not to roll his eyes.
"Anyway, back to the lesson. We'll be using the school's theory text books this week so there'll be no need to bring your instruction books. Mr Tonks will hand them out."
Ted Tonks grabbed a pile of about ten and rushed past Professor Fogget to distribute them.
"Thank you, Mr Tonks. Now, when you get a book, turn to page 103 and copy down the title."
"Sir?"
"Mmm?"
Brian Peverell was persisting. Only this time, he looked a little reluctant to ask his question.
"Um, nothing. Don't worry."
Professor Fogget sighed. "Very well. Has everybody found page 103 yet?"
"Sir?"
Andromeda and Doreen gave each other bored looks as Professor Fogget groaned and faced the bunch of Slytherins again.
"What do you want?" he asked impatiently. By the way he spoke, Andromeda was under the impression that he was not comfortable with losing his temper.
This time, it had been Donald Zabini who'd spoken this time. Brian Peverell was sitting beside him, red in the face from having been dismissed from duty.
Donald Zabini was looking particularly daring. "Why d'you have a cane, Sir?"
"It's not a cane, it's a walking stick. I use it because I have a bad leg."
He hesitated. He looked around the room purposefully. "Any more questions?"
"Did you get injured?"
"Yes."
"How?"
Professor Fogget inhaled sharply. He gave Donald a hard stare. He swallowed thickly.
"What is your name, boy?"
"Zabini, Sir. Donald Zabini."
"Then tell me, Mr Zabini, do you enjoy Hogwarts?"
Donald peered around the room, uncertain of the question. Many other students were doing the same thing.
"Er, yeah. It's alright."
"Proud parents? Good set of friends?"
Donald raised his head and stuck his chest out. "Yeah, of course."
Professor Fogget smiled sadly. "Then I can't possibly expect you to understand."
Donald sank back into his seat, defeated but none-the-wiser. For some reason, Professor Fogget's enigma made Andromeda like him.
"Everybody start reading page 103. Our first topic for this term is The Imperius Curse."
Andromeda was at the front, so her book was delivered quickly. While the others were being passed around, she had a few seconds to read the rest of her mother's letter.
-keep an eye on Bellatrix. Her behaviour this term is paramount. Also tell her that we expect to hear good things about her. Your grandmother will not be persuaded to back down. Your father and I, too, are resolute.
Enjoy your first week back. Reply soon.
Mother.
oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo
At lunchtime, the Great Hall's usual seating arrangement had changed. First years were claiming spots along their House's tables, and older students were therefore being usurped. Bellatrix and her friends had a new position at the very end of their table, nearest the doors. To Bellatrix's dismay, however, they were now sat inches away from Janina Macmillan.
Bellatrix tried to appear casual, sitting languidly on the bench with Jesper Goyle and Iago Greengrass sat beside her, arguing about nothing that Bellatrix cared about.
"I dare you. Go on, I dare you."
"I told you, no!"
"You're too chicken," said Iago to Jesper in his snide, nasal voice that had always made Bellatrix's skin crawl.
"I bloody well am not! I'd do it in a heartbeat but it's just too much effort."
"Rubbish," droned Iago. "You just don't want to make a fool of yourself."
"It's not that."
"Yes it is."
Whilst they quarrelled, Bellatrix eyed the gaggle of Sixth years over in the far corner of the hall. It was mostly compromised of Gryffindors, with the Fabian and Gideon Prewett being the centre-piece of the ensemble. Their dumpy little sister, Molly, smiled gingerly around her as people made jokes. They were responsible for most of the noise and laughter in the hall. Of course, that was inevitable. The Prewett brothers were like Gods in Gryffindor House. Now that their sister had been confronted by the notorious Bellatrix Black and survived, she was a hero too. They were the talk of the school. They were not what interested Bellatrix though. She was watching Janina Macmillan with a keen eye. She was sat at the edge of the Prewett bubble, smiling pleasantly as everyone ignored her. The sight made her twitch.
"I'm ten times as capable as you are, Greengrass. I just don't fancy wasting my time with such nonsense..."
"Goyle, when will you just accept that you are too bloody chicken?"
Bellatrix rolled her eyes and leant back, looking at them from upside down. "Whatever you two are droning on about, it sound very boring. Please desist."
Iago and Jesper gave each other cold stares before Jesper grabbed his school bag, yanked it open and rummaged around in it.
"Now what are you doing?" asked Iago.
Moments later, Jesper pulled out a Potions exercise book and a short, stubby pencil. "I'm doing your bloody dare. I'm signing up."
"For what?" asked Bellatrix.
"Quidditch tryouts."
He ripped the corner of a page in his exercise book and began scribbling something onto it.
Bellatrix leapt to her feet and whacked the pencil out of his hands with her own book. "Don't even think about it."
"Why not?" Iago scoffed as Jesper looked startled. "It'll do him some good to challenge himself."
"Challenge himself?" Bellatrix echoed. She turned to Jesper. "Don't bother, Goyle. It's embarrassing."
Jesper wrinkled his nose. "What do you mean?"
Bellatrix sat up and spoke loudly. "Quidditch players are the ones who have no hope in succeeding academically. They turn to it as a last resort."
Several people laughed as the Prewett brothers glared at Bellatrix. However, last year's Slytherin team were far from impressed either.
Iago and Jesper exchanged a confused look, though Jesper did look slightly relieved that Bellatrix had spoken up.
"That's a pile of rubbish, Black," scoffed Iago. "Quidditch players at Hogwarts go down in history. It's prestigious."
"Not in my circle. It's a waste of time. Quidditch players have the wrong ambitions and no brains. Now, do you want to be associated with the wrong sort? Or are you content to shut your fucking trap?"
Iago flinched and remained silent. Satisfied, Bellatrix smirked and sat back down, facing the crowd of Prewett worshippers again.
"If anyone should sign up for Quidditch tryouts, Iago, it should be you. You don't have much of a reputation to lose. Wasn't your great-uncle Patrieth Greengrass a... what was it... a muggle sympathiser?"
Jesper snorted a laugh and Bellatrix grinned.
Iago scowled at the back of her head. "Tell me, Bella, how's your Uncle Alphard? I hear he's doing just fine in muggle London..."
As her back was turned, Iago could not see Bellatrix clench her teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about, Greengrass. I don't know anybody by the name of Alphard."
Iago scoffed. "Yeah? Of course."
Bellatrix whirled round to argue, but someone ran in to the Great Hall calling her name.
"Bella! Bellatrix!"
In ran a short, skinny girl with perfectly bouncy hazel-coloured ringlets springing around her shoulders, pinned here and there in an obsessively fixed way.
"Adelaide, my dear cousin!" smiled Bellatrix, not making any move to get up. "You've neglected to come and find me all day. How was your Summer?"
Adelaide Rosier was sickeningly pretty. At least, most people thought she was. She resembled a china doll in the plastic colour of her eyes and her perfectly shiny curls and her porcelain skin. It drove Bellatrix mad and it made her stomach roll. She never cared much for Cousin Adelaide, who was clingy and about as subtle as a brick when it came to climbing her way up the social ladder. She was tactless and ditzy, but she was also maliciously well-informed on the wizarding world and was guaranteed a good place in society when she was older.
Adelaide beamed at Bellatrix, who hadn't noticed the timid little minion cowering behind her.
"My Summer was wonderful, actually," said Adelaide proudly. "We went to America. Daddy has some very wealthy clients over there. We stayed with them on their estate."
"Spiffing," said Bellatrix dryly. "Mine was excellent, thank you for asking. We actually saw our father at one point. Cissy even spoke to him."
Adelaide flicked her hair behind her shoulder. "You simply must thank your parents for me. They sent me fifty galleons on my birthday. It was so thoughtful."
"Oh, I will."
Adelaide smirked, looking horrifically more smug. "I was ever so sorry to hear about your little predicament. I had no idea it was happening so soon."
Bellatrix's eyes widened.
"Bella?" hissed Jesper from beside her. "What's she talking about?"
"Maybe nothing will come of it," shrugged Adelaide. "But everyone knows that you're engaged to-"
"Rumours," sighed Bellatrix. "Honestly, we've been back at Hogwarts for two days and the rumour mill has started up again. No prizes for guessing who started that one..." Bellatrix looked over at the Prewetts. The others followed her gaze.
"The Prewetts?" asked Iago doubtfully.
"After that nasty little run-in I had with their sister yesterday, it's no wonder they're trying to get back at me."
"Ooh!" interjected Adelaide. "Is it true that Molly Prewett stamped on your foot?"
"What?! No!" Bellatrix leapt to her feet. She could feel blood burning in her cheeks.
"Wow..." said Jesper. "The Prewetts are full of it today... maybe we'll have to pay them a visit."
But before Jesper, Iago or Bellatrix moved towards the Gryffindor table, Bellatrix noticed someone she hadn't seen before.
From behind Adelaide, put stepped a younger girl. A tiny thing that Bellatrix almost didn't recognise.
"Who is this?" she asked, pushing Adelaide aside with the back of her hand. A small girl with dark hair and glasses stared wide-eyed at Bellatrix, not saying a word.
"Surely, this is not little Cassandra Rosier..."
Cassandra nodded vigorously.
Bellatrix leaned in, inches away from her face. The face was a beautiful thing to Bellatrix; everything was there. Bravery and fear, challenge and surrender... her little cousin was terrified.
"Congratulations, Cassandra. I saw you at the Sorting. You're a Slytherin. You must be very proud."
Cassandra smiled weakly and nodded.
Bellatrix cocked her head to the side. "You must share a dorm with dear Cissy. Is she well?"
"Yes."
"Oh, good. Do tell her that Bellatrix remembers her from when we used to speak."
Cassandra gulped and nodded again.
"You and Adelaide can sit with me," she slithered an arm around Cassandra's shoulders. She felt the girl shudder and was about to make things very uncomfortable for the Rosiers, but the doors to the Great Hall were flung open.
The noise died, leaving nothing but the sound of footsteps echoing through the hall. A tall girl with waist-length dark hair and caramel-coloured skin sauntered into the room. She was flanked by three people: Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and a tanned dark-haired woman in a tight snake-skin power suit, looking as though she was sucking a sour sweet.
"That girl," whispered Jesper. "She's not wearing her House colours."
"That's because she doesn't have any House colours," Adelaide whispered back. "That's Leonora De Luca. She's new. Her ancestors founded the Guido de Luca school in Italy thousands of years ago. Her parents are loaded."
"What's she doing here?" asked Bellatrix.
"No idea," replied Adelaide.
The girl, Leonora, looked round at the students, all of whom were staring at her. Leonora seemed unfazed. Dumbledore was gesturing to the hall and saying something to her mother, who was nodding.
"Dumbledore's showing them around," Jesper noticed. "Is she coming here?!"
Bellatrix rolled her eyes. "She's wearing Hogwarts robes, Goyle, what do you think?"
Dumbledore gestured towards the door and the group filed out. Standing by the doors were Barty Crouch and Rodolphus Lestrange, who were watching Leonora with raised eyebrows. As soon as she passed, Rodolphus looked up, straight at Bellatrix.
Bellatrix scowled at him and slumped back down into her seat as the noise picked up again.
"That Leonora girl," began Bellatrix, distracting herself. "Does she have a brother?"
"No idea," shrugged Adelaide. "Why?"
Bellatrix knew Rodolphus was still looking at her. It may have been the light, but he didn't look all too pleased to see her. Bellatrix hoped it was due to the cold look she had given him.
oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo
Dear Mother,
I've spoken to Narcissa and she promises to write to you as soon as she has the time, which sounds like she doesn't care but she does. I just think she's worried about looking too homesick. She seems to be settling in well and has already made some friends. I wouldn't worry.
I haven't seen Bella today but I'll try and find her tomorrow morning. I'll tell her what you said but I can't promise she'll understand your meaning. I hope she's not in trouble.
We met our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher today. He's about your age and he was in Slytherin when he was at Hogwarts, so you might know him. His name is Archibald Fogget.
All my love,
Andromeda.
Archibald Fogget... that was familiar indeed...
Druella folded the letter in half and pressed it to her chest. The only sounds in the house were the ticking grandfather clock and the house elves below the stairs, preparing Druella's dinner. Her husband would be dining with colleagues tonight. Just like last night.
oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo
A/N: Thank you for reading.
Next chapter will be up shortly, I hope.
N x