A/N: Sorry this is so late. I started school this week (boo!) and got a huge amount of homework assigned :/ Anyway, this is really more of a filler chapter (which I suck at writing, another reason why this is so late) and it's rather short. But to make it up to you, I should have another (more eventful) chapter up tomorrow :)
Also (this is important): If I ever don't update in a few days, something probably has come up that's keeping me from posting. If I haven't updated in 4 or 5 days, check out my profile. I'll probably have a notice letting y'all know what's up and when I'll be posting again.
In other news, there was a citywide blackout yesterday! It was actually pretty cool. The stars were absolutely gorgeous.
Disclaimer: I own only Aria/Ari/Remy. Everything else is property of the fantabulicious JK Rowling.
Thank you to the following fantabulicious people who reviewed/favorited/subscribed in the past week: Twilight Woods, CierraLuv97, Electric-Aura, Carter Fairway, TheOneAndOnlyBellaRiddle, and AdonCa.
Please read the message at the bottom.
"The measure of a man is what he does with power." –Plato
Two-Faced [Harry Potter] Chapter Six: Reeling
The first week of school passes surprisingly quickly.
I see little of Draco – he avoids eye contact in the few classes we have in common, and I catch only glimpses of him in the halls. For once, I can't tell what he's thinking. That bothers me more than it should.
But as the days go on, I find another concern occupying my thoughts, poking and prodding at me until I can't ignore it any longer.
I'm supposed to be making friends.
Of all the things I was fretfully worrying about messing up on this mission, making friends was definitely not one of them. In fact, the issue barely even crossed my mind. It seemed like a miniscule problem in comparison with everything else going on – absurd to waste valuable time sweating over it. I knew I'd have to befriend the Gryffindors to 'fit in' and avoid suspicion, but I never thought it'd be this hard.
As it turns out, when you transfer into a new school in the second-to-last year, people have already settled into routines, wound their tightly-knit cliques and groups of friends. A lot of them aren't looking for new ones.
And, because I've spent that last eight years keeping a low profile under Mum's orders, my skills in making conversation are a little… rusty.
Not that they were ever very good.
Too many times throughout the first week I find myself just barely getting out of embarrassingly snarky, vicious comments that sound all too anti-mudblood and Death Eater-y. I've even slipped up and called Harry 'Potter' to his face and more than once I've had to cut myself off halfway through saying 'Mudblood.' If anyone's noticed this, they haven't pointed it out. But for how long?
It's because I'm worrying over this problem that I don't notice Granger marching purposefully towards me until she stops before me in the common room, clutching a stack of books to her chest like a lifeline and a determined expression on her face.
"Do you need tutoring in Ancient Runes?"
My head snaps up.
"Wh-what?" I furrow my eyebrows, wondering what the hell this girl is talking about.
"Do you need tutoring in Ancient Runes," she says again, "I noticed you looked a bit lost this week, so…"
What in Merlin's name is she going on about?
"I-I'm doing fine in Ancient Runes, thank you very much," I snap, blinking furiously, my pride taking control of my tongue. "I don't know where you got the impression that I wasn't, but –"
That's when it hits me.
I need to connect with the Mudblood, right? This may be the perfect opportunity to take care of just that.
"Alright," I start over, a small smile spreading over my lips, "You got me. I do think that I need a bit of extra help. Especially with this essay…"
"Really? I thought it was quite easy, actually, but then again I already read the textbook over the summer…"
Sweet Merlin, what I would give to be able to throttle this girl to death. Her ego is suffocating. It's taking up the air in the room. Does she take pleasure in making others feel stupid? Unnecessarily, in this case, as I don't really think the essay is hard – I finished it two days ago.
"Yeah," I say lamely, not quite sure of what to say. How does one respond to something like that?
Hermione Granger is possibly the worst tutor in the history of the planet.
By the time I enter the Great Hall at breakfast on Saturday morning, Mudblood has come to like Remy Turner well enough to let her sit next to her and the Golden Trio at the Gryffindor Table.
As I veer towards the group and fix a smile on my face, I think about what their reactions would be if they knew not Remy Turner, but Ari Desere, Dark Mark revealed.
I imagine there being a lot of screaming and casting of spells.
Suddenly, my fake smile becomes a little more real.
It's amazing to think that one symbol, one tattoo, one mark, can cause so much fear and panic and anger. Not only is it amazing – it's empowering. It makes me walk a little straighter, makes my chin tilt up a bit higher.
I slide into the bench next to Granger, who reintroduces me to Potter and Weasley. I smile demurely, make small talk, laugh at all the right places.
It's somehow easier, talking with them. I don't know why, but the words come more naturally with the Golden Trio than with everyone else in Gryffindor House. They just spill out of my mouth from somewhere in my head, and I don't realize they've been said until the three are laughing and nodding and letting me weasel my way into their group.
I've got a hunch that it's because they're more important than everyone else. Of everyone in the school, these three are the ones I've got to impress most. They're the most suspicious and weary of everyone, and they know what's really out there – Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, the war that's brewing. Maybe it's the tension, the knowing that even one slip up will cost me this mission, possibly my life. Maybe that pressure's what's making my lips move of their own accord, making my tongue mold the words like putty.
Maybe it's the fact that I can feel Draco's eyes on me, feel his gaze burning into my back. Maybe it's the pain coursing through my Dark Mark. Maybe it's the pound of adrenaline whizzing through my blood.
But I'm not sure about any of that.
All I know is that the Golden Trio likes Remy Turner. And Remy Turner likes the Golden Trio. Or she would if she wasn't me.
I spend the rest of the day smiling, chattering, and laughing away with Potter, Weasley, and Mudblood. I pick them apart. Dig into them. Try to figure out what makes them tick.
I know I'm not only here to help Draco – no, the Dark Lord would never waste a Death Eater or an opportunity like that. I'm also here to figure out what's going on. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that the Order of the Phoenix doesn't trust Severus Snape. Dumbledore might – or, at least, might appear to – but the rest of them don't, especially Potter. My job is to find out what Potter's planning. To figure out whatever he's not telling Dumbledore, or whatever Dumbledore's not telling Severus.
So far, I haven't got much.
Potter is preoccupied most of the time, has his nose always buried in the pages of his Potions textbook. What in Merlin's name he finds interesting in that dull book, I've not the vaguest idea. He's almost starting to turn into Granger.
She's a bit more predictable. The girl's like clockwork. She sticks to her Prefect schedule like it's a matter of life and death. Starts her homework promptly after classes. Rushes off to the library during breaks.
Weasley's…well, I don't really count him for anything. I figure he's more of the sidekick, the supportive best friend who doesn't really do much and is really just there for reassurance and a few laughs. Like the jester.
When night falls, the three of them are huddled over Potter's beloved Potions book that he can't seem to part with, talking in hushed voices. I strain to hear them, keeping my eyes carefully trained on my Ancient Runes homework, but it's impossible to catch more than a few words at a time without making it obvious that I'm listening in.
Granger's the one speaking. "…might have been… handwriting… more like a girl's than a boy's."
"…how many… have been princes?" There's Potter. "I better go… late for Dumbledore…"
I have to push back the urge to snap my head up and lean forward over my desk to hear more of the conversation. He's got a meeting with Dumbledore?
"Good luck!" says Granger, a bit more loudly, "We'll wait up, we want to hear what he teaches you!"
"Hope it goes okay," Weasley calls after Potter as he walks away from them.
I slink out of my chair, not bothering to pack up my books and papers. After making sure that Mudblood and Weasley aren't watching, I follow Potter out of the portrait hole. His shadowy figure is just barely disappearing down the corridor. I press against a wall and hurry after him, wondering what his meeting with Dumbledore could be about. Are they planning for the war? Do they know something new about the Dark Lord? Is Dumbledore giving Potter private defense lessons?
Potter ducks behind a statue as Professor Trelawney rounds a corner, and I do the same with the suit of armor standing at attention to my left. She hasn't seen either of us, as her attention is focused solely on the battered pack of cards in her hands.
"Two of spades: conflict," she mutters, "Seven of spades: an ill omen. Ten of spades: violence. Knave of spades: a dark young man, possibly troubled, one who dislikes the questioner –"
She stops suddenly. "Well, that can't be right," she says, reshuffling the cards and setting off again down the hall.
Potter moves from behind his statue, checking down the hall to make sure that the coast is clear, and hurries towards the lone gargoyle standing against a wall. I peer out from around the suit of armor, watching in confusion as he mutters something to the stone figure. It leaps to the side, revealing a moving stone spiral staircase. Potter steps onto the bottom landing of the stair and moves upwards with it, disappearing from my view.
I hiss and run towards the gargoyle, willing it not to do what I think it's about to do. But – oh, there it goes. It jumps back into its place of guarding the staircase. I scowl at its gnarled stone face. I hope I'm just imagining the smug quirk in its etchings.
I slip back into the common room in a foul mood and trudge up the steps to the girls' dormitories, my legs feeling heavy. Today was a good day, a productive one, but knowing what Potter was meeting with Dumbledore about would have topped it all.
My mind is reeling with suspicions and worries. The meeting has to be important, and I'd bet my wand that it's about the Dark Lord. Other worries plague me. What if Draco doesn't accept my help? What if he doesn't accept Severus's?
I fall face-first into the fluffy sheets of my four-poster bed, burying my face in my pillows. I suddenly feel dead-tired, like my blankets have sucked all the energy out of me. Who knew becoming an entirely different person could be so draining?
I can feel myself slipping away, giving into the beckons of sleep, when an incessant tapping sounds from one of the windows. I force my head up out of the pillows, spotting a brown and white speckled Eagle Owl sitting expectantly on the windowsill, a letter strapped to its left leg.
My heart jumps.
I know that owl.
I fling myself out of the bed, nearly tripping over the blankets that follow me and pool around my feet, and fling the window open, coaxing the bird into the room and tearing the letter from its leg.
There's that familiar scrawl, long and elegant and neat. It's different now, though, somehow more mature than I remember. It's lost its messy boyishness over the years.
A smile spreads over my face as I read over the letter.
Meet me in the DADA classroom at midnight tonight.
D.
Important:
AdonCa left me a review that I'd like to address, just in case anyone else has had doubts similar to hers.
First of all, I know Aria/Ari/Remy is a bitch right now, and I know that it may be kind of hard to sympathize with her.
But she will evolve. She will change. And as more of her past is revealed, I hope that she'll become a little more relatable.
As for her relationship with Draco, I just want to make this clear: the Draco Malfoy portrayed in this story will be a bit different than the Malfoy shown in the books and movies. I'm going to be giving him a backstory that shows why he does what he does. It may not justify his being an ass to Harry and Hermione and everyone else, but I'm providing a little bit more depth into his character based on what Rowling has revealed about him in interviews (and trust me, every twist I put on his character and the reasons behind his actions is based on an interview with Rowling).
If you've got any more concerns, feel free to leave them for me in a review or message. I'll be sure to address them. I won't bite ;)
-Flyx
