Author's Notes: Tsk, tsk! Dianthus tried to steal the show with this one. Shame on her. Let's be honest, did you expect anything else from this Slytherin snot? Oh! Hush! It's not bigotry if it's my own House I'm name-calling.
FYI: Noein is pronounced [No-een]
Dianthus's PoV.
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Chapter 8: Renegade Rhapsody
It was the third night, and sleep was as elusive as it had been on the first.
With each passing hour, Dianthus's anxiety doubled and the insomnia only amplified her fears. She couldn't stop thinking, worrying, wondering – replaying the sinister scene within her head. She kept reanalyzing every sentence, every tonal inflection, every implied warning, every strategic gesture, every hidden message, and every fleeting emotion that had played across his face during the reproof. Threats had laced his words to the point of near lethality. It had left Dianthus quite literally trembling where she had stood.
Voldemort and danger were synonymous. That's how it had been for as long as she'd known him. It's what made him so excruciatingly attractive. Mysterious, elegant, charming, handsome, articulate, intelligent, lethal – he encompassed everything a respectable witch could want. It was no wonder that half the Slytherin House pined for him. She was no different. She yearned for his attention because he was ridiculously selective with whom he deemed worthy. She strived to please him because he was perpetually somber. She followed orders precisely because she knew how particular he was with his schemes. She even set aside time to enforce his commands because she knew how busy his schedule was and how tired he must be after a day's work. She did all of this for him. Never once had she so much as sneezed in the wrong direction. That is, until she'd made one itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny mistake in allowing her feelings to interfere with one of his plans.
Was it such an unforgivable blunder to love him so much? Was her unwavering loyalty so intolerable?
Unquestionably, yes, it had been.
Because of that misstep, she'd been tossed atop the back burner like a pawn awaiting sacrifice during a brilliant chess match. She was expendable. He'd made that message clear three days ago.
It wasn't so much the threat to her life that had Dianthus in a tizzy (although she was undeniably distraught by the prospect of being murdered and her ego severely bruised) it was the implication that Noein, her sister, was to be drug into this mess on her behalf. Noein was eleven and innocent. She wouldn't have the slightest suspicion to Voldemort showing interest, nor stand a chance against attack.
The game was no longer fun.
Who was he to do this? She'd been nothing but loyal, nothing but trustworthy to him. How dare he threaten her, Dianthus Amelia Heteric, daughter of Herbert Heteric, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Without warning, she could have his arse hauled off and tried before The Wizengamot where he'd be sentenced to Azkaban for God only knows how long! She'd witnessed every crime he'd ever committed, she was sure of it. She could testify. She would testify. And because she was the daughter of such a prominent official, she could easily claim she was a victim to the conspiracy.
Dianthus could already read the front page of the Daily Prophet:
Hogwarts: Institution for the Criminally Insane
In fear for her baby sister's life, Dianthus Heteric – targeted for her father's celebrity in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement – was forced into the role of coconspirator to a string of heinous hate crimes instigated by disturbed orphan, Tom Marvolo Riddle, under the alias Lord Voldemort. The title was taken from an anagram of the boy's birth name, hinting at a possible delusional psychiatric condition. The crimes primarily took place in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry where Ms. Heteric and Mr. Riddle (who is half muggle) shared the house, Slytherin. Because of Heteric's knowledge of the law, her participation ensured the crimes went unnoticed at the esteemed school and at the Ministry of Magic. However, such events have lead many to question the safety of Hogwarts and its admittance of muggle-born students (see page 12 for article). Astoundingly, in a moment of daring, Ms. Heteric and her sister broke free from their captors and confessed the wrongdoings to local law enforcement.
Riddle and his willing accomplices are being tried before the Wizengamot for a number of allegations, which include kidnapping, torture, and homicide. It is presumed, though unverified, that Mr. Riddle will face the jury under the insanity defense. Due to the accuracy and execution of the crimes, however, it is unlikely that the plea will hold in court.
Ms. Heteric is recovering from the traumatic imprisonment, and is reported to be returning to her 'spirited self'."
All right, maybe the bit about mudbloods was wishful thinking, but that didn't change anything with Mr. Parseltongue. He couldn't stand a chance against her when it came to power. And she was talking about real power. He might outmatch her in magical ability and wit, but certainly not in social standing and entrapment! Her father didn't become head of Magical Law Enforcement by doing his job well. Ha! There were loads of people who outranked Herbert Heteric in skill, yet they held a position one step above a custodian. She'd learned a thing or two about politics and blackmail thanks to good ol' pops. If you wanted anything in this world, you took it; you didn't wait for it to fall into your lap because you worked hard and smiled pretty. For those that stood in your way…well, let's just say that you made sure lying down became more enticing than standing up.
Yes, she would deal with Tom. First, she had to wake Noein.
The hallways were dark, and the stone floor freezing. The dungeons forced students to acquire a taste for winter. Luckily, most Slytherins preferred the cold, but not all of them. For those few, the adjustment had been painful. Dianthus didn't mind the chill so much as the dimness of the corridors. She did like to see where she was going, after all. She relied more on memory and touch than on sight when navigating the tunnels. A mole would have been a more appropriate mascot for Slytherins, but then again such an animal would have repelled students. Even a badger was better than a mole! Still, it would have been more fitting than a snake. Only Salazar spoke Parseltongue. All Slytherins hid in the dark like blind rodents.
Finally, she found the bedchamber for the first years.
She ran her hand over the dry wood and pushed it open. The creaking hinges broke the silence. It was even darker in the room than in the hallway. Dianthus stood motionless for a few moments while her eyes adjusted to the black.
"Noein," she hissed, trying to keep her voice low.
There was no reply. All right, she was going to have to find the little brat.
"Lumos!"
The room alit with white light. Round faces snuggled under blankets reflected the glow. There, in the middle bed, slept Noein. Dianthus crept across the room to where her sister rested then abruptly shook her awake. She pressed a hand across the girl's mouth to muffle any complaints.
"Shut up! It's me, Dianthus. Don't. Say. A. Word," she warned.
The girl immediately stopped struggling and blinked in compliance. Dianthus removed her hand then leaned closer to her sister's confused face, "We're leaving. Grab your shoes, wand, and coat; we haven't the time or means to carry more. Don't ask questions. Don't gripe."
Noein opened her mouth to protest, but was blocked by an angry glare from her sister. Instead, the younger sibling slid out of bed and began gathering the objects Dianthus had ordered. Once the first year was finished and was garbed in a pale pink pea coat with wand at the ready, the two set out through a door to the main corridor. Dianthus took Noein's hand to guide her; her grip tightened as they wound through endless tunnels then finally approached a door.
"Noein, I mean it; don't try to run away or to scream. I'm doing this for your own protection. Do you understand?"
Noein furrowed her brow then replied, "Yeah, but what is it we're doing? What is it I need protection from?"
"I said no questions!"
The younger sister recoiled then tried to jerk her hand from Dianthus's. The fourth year squeezed her fingers tighter in response, "You will listen to me, and you will thank me later."
"You're hurting me!"
"I'll hurt you more if you don't quiet down. Now shut up and follow me," she tugged at her sister's hand then pushed open the wooden door.
Fresh air hit their faces. Stars twinkled above their heads and the moon reflected off of a lake in the distance. Noein smiled, "I always hoped I'd catch a glimpse of the giant squid."
Dianthus ignored her.
Hogwarts Castle could be seen flittering between trees. They were closer to the welcome carriages than to the actual school grounds, and Dianthus could see the coach house where they were stored. She jerked forward pulling Noein with her. She glanced around before sliding the mammoth doors open. Stationed inside were small horse drawn carriages and the stalls where the "horses" slept were empty – at least to Noein's eyes. Dianthus could see them clearly; they were the most beautifully frightening creatures she'd ever encountered, and tonight they were going to help her escape from an equally magnificent monster.
"Help me saddle them," she barked. Noein just stared at her dumbfounded.
Dianthus remembered that only those who had seen death could see thestrals. The closest thing Noein had come to death was flushing her dead goldfish down the loo.
"Don't just stand there. Fetch the saddles!"
Noein glanced about searching for the saddles before spotting them on a rack near the door. She grabbed one and hauled it over to Dianthus where she stood waiting. Dianthus took the saddle, but not before noticing a silver ring shaped like a serpent wrapped around her sister's middle finger.
"What is that?" she tossed the saddle to the ground before pulling her sister's hand closer.
Noein bit her lip then looked away, "a ring."
"Where did you get it, Noein? Who gave it to you!"
"Stop it! It was just a gift," the girl pulled her hand away.
"From whom?"
"Just a boy I met," she blushed.
Dianthus's heart plummeted into her stomach, "What was his name?"
"I don't know; it doesn't matter. Can we just do whatever it is we were going to do?"
Dianthus seized Noein by the shoulders then shook her hard, "Tell me his name! Who is he!"
"Tom! His name is Tom!"
"Tom…" Dianthus whispered. Her eyes grew wider as she realized the severity of the situation. The ring served as a tracking beacon. Voldemort would know they were out of the castle. She grabbed Noein's hand then worked the ring off of her finger.
"Stop! Give it back!" Noein lunged forward, trying to reclaim the piece of jewelry. Dianthus knocked her back with an elbow then blasted the ring into slivers with a flick of her wand.
That was it. They were going to be murdered and no one would ever know why or who did it. "You stupid girl; you've killed us," she whispered as silent tears slid down her cheeks.
"Not quite," said a cold voice from the doorway.
Dianthus turned to face him; she knew he'd be close to finding them, and she was right. His face and body were concealed by a hooded robe. Mud and snags lined the hem as the fabric drug against the ground. He'd been in a hurry.
He walked forward slowly, his footsteps silent, "You're right; death is inevitable, but I'll hardly allow a first year to take credit."
