Six.
Jadyn woke up rather early for a teenager on a Sunday. She stared at the ceiling of her room and watched as the clouds passed slowly. Once she had a room of her own, she just had to enchant the ceiling to act and display the sky just as in the guest quarters in Severus' room did. Only, of course, hers were a little bit more interesting. At night the constellations of the stars would shift to their imagined forms and interact with one another for a few minutes before retreating back to their designated spaces and being still stars once more. During the day the abstract clouds would form shapes so that she could have fun guessing what they were changing into before they were completed. She rather liked watching the clouds, Tom and her used to do it often enough when they were in school. Jadyn blinked. Sometimes she forgot that she was still a teenager. Sometimes she felt so much older than the other students; it was somewhat true considering that she was at least fifty years older than them even if her body had stayed that of a seventeen-year-old. Jadyn brought an arm to cover her eyes and exhaled loudly; the pulses of pain should have been increasing at an alarming rate at this point but she supposed that rekindling some of the advantages of the bond would keep most of the pain away, for now.
She let herself be weak for a few more minutes before getting out of bed and grabbing a towel. When standing in her bathroom she could see that it followed some type of model that was present throughout the castle. The shower and tub were the same as Severus' and the sink was to her right. Instead of a granite and marble countertop however, hers was made of limestone with two sinks carved from the slab. It was a neutral tan color with veins of white and brown that made it look beautiful, if not delicate. The mirror had the advantage or disadvantage of being a magical one and although it had not spoken to her yet, it probably would in a few minutes. Magical mirrors that talked back always unnerved her; she was being watched and knew she was being watched but she would go about her business anyway. Shaking her head she undressed and tossed her clothes in a basket that had been placed in the corner. It had her name embroidered on it with silver and purple accented letters. Verny most likely had done it.
Facing the mirror she could see her tattoo clearly, the snake blinked at her while the raven merely opened its mouth in a silent scream. Although the snake had coiled its body around the raven's it was loose, almost protective unlike the crushing embrace it had been the other day. She ran a hand down the magically inked scales and found that the snake squirmed underneath her touch although it didn't seem uncomfortable. It bared its teeth at her however before biting the raven in the shoulder, succeeding in breaking the bone, making the wing useless until it healed. She sucked in a hiss and grabbed her right shoulder harshly. Although she had not taken any real damage, the brain would think she had. The tattoo was conniving like that and it was only another shackle of the bond. The snake seemed to laugh at her and a dark liquid could be seen dripping down her side of her tattoo, the inked blood pooling around the raven's wing. The bird had tried to cry out but of course no one could hear it save for her. Its eyes were glistening with unshed tears as its beak opened and closed rapidly. This was also a reason she hated magical tattoos and preferred to look at Muggle ones; magical tattoos could interact within the surroundings and the context of its art which in her case was unpleasant to watch at times.
Jadyn massaged her shoulder, effectively loosening it from the psychological pain but she could still feel as if her bone had been shattered and her flesh torn. She stepped into the shower and hissed in slight relief when the burning of the water seemed to ease her tense flesh. Muscles relaxed slightly and the steam rose as if it were a large, relieved sigh escaping from her lips.
/-
Tom Marolo Riddle had always been a very ambitious and cruel sort of child. He always wanted to know things—always asking questions and wondering how things worked, even if they were the small animals he had managed to trap in the orphanage. During his stay at his place of abandonment he spent his time observing others, becoming intimate with their reactions and habits while at the same time judging them and finding himself superior. In Hogwarts he head through every book he could get his hands on and practiced every spell either with his wand or within the confines of his imagination. When the professors weren't looking he would practice curses and charms on his fellow classmates and concoct potions in the privacy of the Chamber of Secrets left to him by Salazar Slytherin himself. Tom Riddle wanted to know everything about everything because knowledge was power and he needed to wield it. He taught himself magic that most people would not have even dreamed of performing. Throughout his years of schooling he had never considered any of his professors that informative; if he could have he would have skipped all his lessons and learned everything from his books. Yes, books were useful for the theoretical, but for the practical he needed to go to class to observe his classmates mistakes and to find shortcuts in wand movements.
Voldemort was currently sitting in front of the fire in his personal library, a book forgotten in his lap as he watched the flames lick the wood and battle amongst themselves. He had been reading over one of his more recently acquired texts when he was suddenly overcome with a pulse of magic that he associated with Jadyn. The snake on her side had been hissing with dark amusement for half an hour now and he could feel the warmth of blood in its mouth. It seems that the snake had bitten the raven again. Voldemort stared out his large bay window and watched as the sun rose higher into the sky. The pain did not seem to be progressing as he had thought which was fortunate for Jadyn. He did not want to take action until Springtime and he hoped that she would be able to endure until then. He had been somewhat sincere when he had told her to enjoy the next passing months but he had also felt the coldness of abandonment and uselessness when he had said those words. He chuckled softly. Jadyn had always been a loyal young woman, even if her loyalties and duties were only to him.
He closed the book in his lap and placed it on a side table before repositioning himself more comfortably in his chair. He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander for a while. From what he could remember of her Jadyn had always been an attractive girl. Her heritage had given her, her mother's straight, dark, Japanese hair and smooth, pale complexion. Her hairstyles had been ever changing but the last he remembered it was to her shoulders and had an interesting section of dyed, almost tarnished gold to the side of her head. She acquired her father's love for books and music her mother had told her. Jadyn had never met her father, he having died before her birth. It was an aspect that made them similar; both had father's who had abandoned their pregnant wives. Her intellect and personality were a combination of both parents he assumed but he often wondered how she didn't end up more like Snape with the way she had been brought up. Unlike the Potions Master, she had always smiled instead of brooded. She had perfect teeth: white and straight and her canines were sharper than most and gave her a wickedness that always amused him. Jadyn had grown to be quite the debonair pureblood as she grew up; her cultured background, stunning if not avant-garde fashion sense, and physical looks ensnaring the hearts of many. He could remember that at least a dozen boys would pluck up their courage and ask her out only to be turned down while she smiled at him discretely. She belonged to him and even if it was not spoken out loud, the fact was well enough known. But he couldn't berate the poor chaps for trying.
Jadyn had been a wonderful source of information and good company. He didn't like to admit it but without her he probably wouldn't have known most of what he knew in his time at Hogwarts. There were some things that could not be learned from a book he had found. She had been a patient teacher and easily handled his frustration, usually taking the brunt of his verbal, psychological, and sometimes physical abuse. He had made use of their bond enough times that he knew exactly how the snake on her side would coil around the raven and how the raven would cry silently. He suspected that only she could hear the piercing screams of the bird just as only he could hear the amused and satisfied hisses of the snake. Even now it was still hissing its dark pleasure and he wondered exactly where she hurt this time.
/-
Jadyn walked the halls of Hogwarts with no destination in mind. She would allow the castle to guide her and trust in the stairs to not let her fall. They had never disappointed her and she thanked them again and again with whispers and small caresses to stone and staircase and armor. The castle had enough stored up magic to be sentient and she dared not insult it or unleash its ire. She let the rumbling of the stones lead her to the piano room which seemed to have been forgotten over time. She pushed open the doors and was surprised to find someone already there, his blinding silver hair a stark contrast to the pitch blackness of the piano before him. He had noticed her presence; she could feel his magic quiver into a defense pose. Elegant, yet dangerous as most Malfoys were. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, an act of pureblood culture that demanded neutral ground, not weakness as most would think. She was not unguarded, merely curious. She listened and smiled. The Malfoy heir played Ravel's Pavane pour une infant defunte beautifully, if only a bit too fast or too slow as some points. Whoever his teacher had been, he or she was very adept. The words would not start until the song was finished; it was a respectful and polite act that spoke hostility otherwise. It was considered bad taste to interrupt a song or to request for another while the pianist still had the floor. Eventually the notes died away and Draco sat still, hands on the keys as if waiting for her to speak. He was being polite and she answered in the way of the dance.
"Your skills are impressive Mr Malfoy." Her voice was soft yet held an undertone she knew he would understand.
"Your words flatter me Miss Jaspar. Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?" Draco looked at her coolly. The question lingered in the air and Jadyn thought for a moment.
Neutrality.
"If you could play something of Debussy I would very much appreciate the sentiment." Debussy was neutral ground and she could see that Draco would recognize the request. But even then different pieces spoke entirely different things. Suspicion. Wariness. Trust. Superiority. Bafflement. She would have to wait for him to choose what to convey. Her impression of him would depend entirely on what he would play. It took her almost a minute to recognize the piece and she smiled. Deux Arabesque spoke of his indifference yet it held his underlying tones of caution. Yes, Draco was a fine player, a bit coarse but once he finished polishing his techniques he would be a fine man. The longer she listened the more his song spoke to her. As of now held no concrete views towards the war but he was leaning towards one side, the lighter, more neutral side of magic. She did not blame him, even she did not agree with more of Tom's more calculated moves. There was only so much culture you could teach a child who was not born into the ways. Draco would make a formidable ally should she ever have the need. She already had plans set to change the outcome of the war and to break the stifling stigmas that plagued the magical world. The song finished and she opened her eyes to look at Draco.
Draco Malfoy had found the piano room during his third year of Hogwarts after the humiliation and shame that burned on his face after the encounter with Granger. Today he had felt an urge to play, as if the castle itself wanted to hear him. He was on his fifth song when he felt the presence of her magic. It was not threatening, merely curious and he allowed her to stay if only to observe her. He had an inkling of her bloodline but needed to be sure. Once the song stopped he stayed poised and waiting. If she was what he thought she was then she would understand, if not then he would put this encounter behind him.
"Your skills are impressive Mr. Malfoy." The words were spoken softly but he detected the undercurrents. Impressive. Good but not perfect. If he had been she would have used impeccable or above reproach. He still had room for improvement. He smirked inwardly. So, she did know how to dance properly.
"Your words flatter me Miss Jaspar. Is there anything in particular you would like to hear?" Draco looked at her coolly. It was a question that spoke of neutrality and he wanted to test her skills. No one in Hogwarts could dance the pureblood tune as well as he and a sparring partner would be welcomed.
"If you could play something of Debussy I would very much appreciate the sentiment." Draco was slightly impressed, all purebloods knew that Debussy was neutral ground but now the real test came. Her judgment of him would all depend on his piece and he would not fail. Thinking to himself a bit he skimmed over all the Debussy pieces he knew and picked one. It seemed Deux Arabesque was the correct choice because her magic did not flare excitedly as it would and should have done had she caught him in a form of weakness. He played as well as he could have despite his knowledge that the timings were probably not to her standards. For her to critique his Pavane pour une infant defunte meant that she was also very comfortable with the dance. The song ended and she looked at him with a darkness in her eyes that unhinged him slightly. Surely he had done everything correct. He would not stumble.
"May I play something for you in response to your hospitality?" He relaxed slightly. He had played well. He inclined his head a fraction before standing and taking the space she had occupied on the wall, his stance mirroring her own. He waited as she took her seat. While she had judged him this piece would allow him to judge her as well. Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsody no 2 was a surprise. It was bold, much too bold after his piece and he narrowed his eyes. She wanted to tell him something. Her fingers moved quickly across the keys as if she had knew the piano from an earlier time. He had only ever heard his mother play with such clarity and perfection; he had yet to even perform the piece without the help of sheet music. Jadyn Jaspar was in a level that was above his and it made him shudder. There are a list pieces that purebloods use to test not only instrumental skill but of culture and personality. She was showing him her superiority but not in a way that she was flouncing it in his face, but in a way that spoke of openness and other key notes that he could not decipher. The song was very long and changed throughout the entire song. There was chaos and control and light and dark and he held his breath when she finished as if she were trying to hit the piano with all of her frustration. She looked at him with those burning eyes and he felt his breath fall out of his control. She had captured him and he had completely let her. She stood and walked towards him with slow purposeful steps and he closed his eyes in a gesture that mirrored her previous one. He dared not come off as threatening to this woman. The light touch on his arm made his eyes snap open.
"Would you accompany me for a walk?" She purred her request in the way that pureblood women spoke.
"It would be my honor." He offered her his arm and she took it with confidence. He let her lead him because it was her place to do so. They walked the halls silently not bothering with the strange looks that others cast towards them. All the pureblood gave them a wide berth understanding what their image represented and noticing immediately the subtlety of her leading. Those of lesser blood but some culture only inclined their heads politely. All the Muggleborns and those who did not follow pureblood standards of etiquette openly gaped, stared, and in the case of the Weasley's narrowed or opened their eyes in suspicion and surprise. Draco mentally sneered while casting a meaningful look at Blaise who stopped moving respectfully. By dinnertime all the Slytherins at least would know that Jadyn Jaspar was well their superior. He saw Severus glance at them before blending back into the shadows; he would want to talk later. They walked past the open courtyard and onto the Hogwarts grounds. They followed the perimeter of the Black Lake but he was not inclined to speak until she initiated the conversation. She seemed content enough to stay silent and he felt she was well inclined to it.
"It seems the old ways have not faded after all. I was afraid that most of you would not recognize this tune." She was speaking of culture but the way she spoke seemed to imply that she was dancing to a different melody than the rest of them. "I was afraid that the modern dance would be in discord to mine." Draco understood. She was dancing the waltz of old while he and his generation and probably that of their parents were dancing to a more upbeat and hazardous melody. The ways were changing with the swiftness and aggressiveness of the seasons.
"We preserve what we can Miss Jaspar." He hoped his answer was acceptable. She controlled this dance as of now and she could trip him so easily.
"Yes. It is in our nature to do so. But it is also within our tendencies to change." She stopped their walk and faced him towards the lake. The reflection of the sun on the surface of the water was breathtaking and he could not remember a time that he had thought so previously. "Do not merely act the lines and perform the actions because they are ingrained into your very soul. You must remember that your character, conviction, and feeling sway the meanings of your words." She released his arm and he stood uncertain, the outline for his steps gone. He quickly unscrambled her words and found that she was telling him not to act blindly due to the influences of others. She was telling him to make his own way. She was telling him he had a choice and it was within his power to take it. She smiled at him and he found himself returning it easily. She left him there by the side of the lake and the sun felt warmer than he had ever known it to be. He frowned. Along with her lines of encouragement he felt the need that she had to tell him that he was not as chained as she was. He looked back towards the path she had taken and wondered if the heat and brilliance of the sun was forever lost to her. He bowed respectfully at her retreating form as determination to follow the path that had always been the closed to him flared and gave him strength.
/-
Dinner was as chaotic as always, though there was anxiousness in the Slytherins that was not noticed except by their Head of House and Jadyn Jaspar. Piercing eyes flicked to her when people were too busy to notice. She was sitting as straight as always, yet she held a comfortableness and relax to her posture that few of them could ever achieve. Draco had proved to them that her dance was as dangerous and subtle as theirs but the unexpectedness of her superiority baffled them. They would not question her openly that was for sure. Times were changing and the newer generations of Hogwarts Slytherins were not as accepting as their parents to a way where they were to be slaves for a man who clearly felt that he should rule over them. This way of thought was especially prominent after Harry Potter had released the fact that Voldemort was, or had been, a half-blood. No one had taken the Mark since Draco and he had been scheming with the rest of them on ways to avoid it altogether. Most knew of his change of loyalties and did not begrudge him for it. Most would admit to doing the same thing if they were branded with the mark of servitude. They all looked at Jadyn Jaspar with eyes that hoped that she would somehow be able to help them and change the ways that they were chained into.
Severus spoke little throughout his meals but today felt that it was his duty to address the events the day had presented.
"Miss Jaspar, I take it that Draco was as pleasant as always." His voice was smooth and cutting but she did not flinch. She continued to cut her food with precise strokes of her knife.
"Yes, he waltzes very well for his age." She looked at Severus discretely and noticed that he had smirked.
"As one can expect from him." She was not sure that he understood correctly but made no comment.
"They are restless." She looked at the Slytherins who had all looked at her discretely from the safety of their table.
"You have caused quite a stir in the ranks. It is only natural that they feel that way." She put down her fork and turned her face fully to him.
"As their Head of House you should impose upon them the significance of choice." She said as she stood and left the High Table, leaving her perfectly cut fruit untouched. It was a sign that Severus unfortunately could not decipher due to his lack of skill.