Term began on a bad note. Draco and I weren't speaking. So Pansy and I weren't speaking. So Draco wasn't speaking to Pansy, because it was a family thing, and she shouldn't have been involved.
Jess and Carmeline weren't speaking to Draco or Pansy. Blaise wasn't speaking to anyone because he found conflict irksome, and so was avoiding it.
I don't think Crabbe and Goyle knew how to talk.
And of course, nobody else would shut up, because of all the amazing Christmas presents they'd got, and all the catching up they had to do, after spending a whole two weeks apart.
It was sheer agony to watch.
I was almost relieved that I didn't have to participate fully this year.
That relief disappeared on the second day of term, about midway through breakfast. I was drinking eating some scrambled eggs, and explaining to Marcus Cleevebridge just why I would never, ever, ever go out with him. Ever. Carmeline was flirting unsuccessfully with Blaise (who was maintaining his silent treatment of the whole table) and Jess was beginning the homework she was meant to have done in the holidays.
"… you're a little bit of a boor. I don't mean that unkindly.." I told Marcus, upon whom the past ten minutes of rejection had had no effect. He waggled his eyebrows at me.
"I'm a caveman, baby." He said, and I sniffed disdainfully.
"Is that supposed to be attractive? I can't really tell." He winked, and I turned desperately to Carmeline.
"Save me!" I demanded, and she turned away from Blaise irritated, only to shake her head and turn back to him.
"So… I'm guessing your holidays were good.." As Blaise failed to ask the traditional, reciprocal question, Carmeline decided to answer it, unasked. "Mine were good, too. I realised," she batted her eyelids, "over Christmas that something was missing from my presents.. That I wanted something that I hadn't been given- couldn't be given." She leaned forwards, exposing a reasonable amount of cleavage. "I need a man in my life."
Blaise looked at her impassively, then turned away, drumming his fingers Boredly on the table.
I turned back to Marcus. "I find intelligence incredibly attractive." I told him quickly. "And you're…. well, you're fairly stupid, really. So it just goes to show that if I find intelligence attractive, I find stupidity the biggest possible turn off."
Marcus frowned, and ironically attempted to show some sign of intelligent life. "There's no reason that it'd be a turn off." He said slowly. "It might just be… neutral. Why don't you find stupidity neutral?"
I threw my hands in the air in desperation. "I don't make the rules, Cleevebridge." I fumed.
Cleevebridge leaned forwards, putting his hand on my knee. "But baby, you can break them with me." He said, voice pitched low in an attempt to be sexy.
The few choice words I used to reply to him were unfortunately drowned out by the deafening flutter of wings as the post arrived.
"Goddamn!" I heard Jess swear. "Could these owls be more careless? I'm covered in marmalade, now." I glanced over at her, watching with a smile as she extracted the Daily Prophet from where it had crash landed on her plate.
"The colour suits you." I told her, and she threw a bread roll at me.
"How about you….. Merlin!"
I was grinning as I took a bite out of the roll, "what?" I laughed. "What?" Without saying a word, she flipped the Prophet over to show me the front page. I'd just managed to read the first few words- "MASS BREAKOUT… AZKABAN"- when I felt the bile rise up in my throat. Again, my fingers darted to my throat, where the bruises were still vivid against my skin.
Carmeline had her hand over her mouth in shock, and even Marcus had quietened. "Oh… Merlin." Somebody breathed. "Read it, Jess.. what does it say?"
Jess read, her eyes darting frantically across the paper. "Ten." She said quietly. "Ten got free. Ten high security prisoners."
Carmeline leaned over, frowning at the article. "Dolohov." She muttered. "Isn't Eli from sixth year a Dolohov?"
Marcus nodded slowly. "Yeah.. they're cousins, I think. Why? Reckon he was involved?"
"Don't be an idiot." Somebody snapped angrily. I realised after a moment that it was me. I frowned at them. "Eli wouldn't have anything to do with this. You can't choose your family." As I said that last, my eyes flicked up to Blaise, who was watching me impassively.
Jess nodded. "Besides- it says who is responsible." She flopped the paper onto the table in the middle of us all, and I winced as I recognised the faces of Bellatrix and my cousin- Lestrange. But Jess ignored them, her finger falling to rest on another face, printed in miniature. "Sirius Black." She said firmly. "He's behind it."
I craned my neck to look at his face, pretending that my heartbeat wasn't sounding in my ears. I waited for the shock of recognition, searched my mind for a memory of him- their ringleader, their boss. But I couldn't find one. I'd never seen that man in my life.
"Who is he?" I murmured, and Jess waved a hand dismissively.
"He escaped from Azkaban, a couple of years ago." She leaned in close. "He's the one who killed all those little muggles, and that other wizard. And my mother says that he sold the Potters to You Know Who." Enjoying her role as the information giver, Jess continued. "It says that he freed them in order to rally them up.. all You Know Who's followers." And then the smug look disappeared from her face as she looked at Carmeline. "Carmie," she said, concerned. "Are you okay?"
Carmeline was sitting silently, staring at her plate. "They think old death eaters broke them out?" She asked quietly. We all nodded, and she sighed, clenching her fists. When she looked up at us, her eyes were terrified. "So they'll want to be questioning most of our parents, then."
Jess shook her head wildly. "Not me, not me!" She insisted, "My father was the ambassador to Australia during the war. We had nothing to do with anything."
"Yeah, and my father said he'd been imperiurised and got off." Carmeline snapped. "Doesn't mean they won't be questioning him. And my mum. And Crabbe's dad, and Goyle's dad…. And the Malfoys."
I glanced up, keeping my eyes guarded. Only Blaise was watching me, looking thoughtful.
"I think you're overreacting." Jess said slowly, and Carmeline laughed, not being as sweet as usual anymore.
"Really? You do?" she scoffed. "Look around you, Jess." She gestured to the great hall. "The Hufflepuffs look worried, and the Ravenclaws look scared. The Gryffindors look like they're ready to go and hunt down these escapees themselves.. and us?" she sighed. "We look petrified, and some of us even look glad."
I looked around, considering what she'd said. It was true. "The whole hall is shouting." I said quietly. "They're all outraged. But Slytherin is silent- we're whispering, why are we whispering?"
"Because!" Carmeline said. "These are our relatives, and our parents old friends. Our families are at risk here."
The silence surrounding us all was deafening, especially in contrast with the shouts and calls from the other house tables.
"This must be a misprint."
We all turned to Blaise, bewildered by his words- the first, mind you, that he'd spoken since we got back to school.
"A misprint, Blaise. Really?" I snarled. "Which part? Or is it the whole article? Is the whole article a mistake?"
He shrugged coolly, but I saw the fear in his eyes before he turned away. His mother had been married a million times… had she been married to a Death Eater? Or was she related to one of the escapees?
Really, it could be anything. We were all implicated. Most of the Slytherins were purebloods, and many of the purebloods had been Death Eaters. I looked up at the table, wondering how many of my housemates had cousins in Azkaban, or parents who'd stood trial.
"I'm scared, Estelle." Carmeline said from my side, her voice small and pinched.
Cleevebridge was the one who answered her, frowning in confusion. "Oh, don't be, Burke." He said kindly. "They can't get into Hogwarts."
The look she gave him was blank and sad. He couldn't understand- he wasn't pureblood, he was halfblood. And his family wasn't hadn't been involved in the war at all.
"I'm not scared of the inmates." Carmeline said hollowly. "I'm scared of the Ministry. I'm scared for my father."
Nobody really knew what to say to that.
….
For the next few days, the Slytherin common room was solemn and quiet. I think that everybody was just avoiding talking about the breakout. After the initial, hushed, breakfast conversations, everybody wanted to forget it had ever happened.
But that didn't mean that we could.
Everyday, frantic letters were exchanged- parents to students to cousins to aunties to uncles to neighbours. Everybody was trying to work out- without being obvious- what was going on. Each and every student was desperate to be able to cross their parents off the list of potential suspects. But few people could.
Still, as the days went by, we returned to normal. There were still periods of fear and melancholy, and people wrote their parents every day, without exception, to keep up to date. But other than that, we were just like every other house.
Draco had started talking to me again. Sort of.
I hadn't started talking to him. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to. I kept seeing the Longbottom boy in the halls and remembering the line from that article- Bellatrix Lestrange had tortured his parents into insanity, and she was free.
And I'd met her.
And I hadn't told anybody.
The guilt was stifling. But how could I tell? It was so much harder now that I knew who they were, but I still couldn't do it. I couldn't destroy the Malfoys like that. They were my family. They were all I had.
And my instincts have always been towards self preservation.
More than that, though. I'd lost a family before- I wouldn't let it happen again.
Another way in which the breakout affected everybody was in our Defence Lessons. The entire school's frustration with Umbridge reached new heights as we were confronted with the very real possibility of a threat, and no way at all to counter it.
…
"This is pointless." I said. By my side, Jess shot me a dark look. She'd had enough trouble with Umbridge to be a little wary of irritating her. "What?" I hissed. "It is."
"Did you say something, dear?" I glanced up to see Umbridge standing not a foot away from me, smiling broadly. Clearly, she was content with today's lesson plan- copying out the first chapter of our textbook into note form.
Jess caught my eye, and slowly shook her head: No, Estelle.
"Um. No, I didn't." I said, frowning at Jess. "I didn't say anything."
Umbridge's smile broadened a little more, her lips stretched thin across her face. "Well." She said, clasping her stubby fingers together. "Well, that's good, now, isn't it? After all, you don't want to make that insolence of yours a habit now, do we?"
Unable to help myself, I glowered at her. "It may already be a habit, professor." I told her. Jess elbowed me in the ribs.
Clearly deciding that this battle could be fought another day, Umbridge nodded serenely and moved on, her beady eyes already flicking around for another target.
"This is a complete load of crap." I heard somebody matter. The voice could have come from anywhere- Slytherin, Ravenclaw. Later, both sides would claim that it had been one of their own who'd started the whole thing, as though it were something impressive, something to be proud of. Really, it was just something to be expected. We should have done it long ago.
My complaint had been whispered. I hadn't said it to make a scene or cause a fight- I'd just been expressing an opinion. This wasn't like that. Whoever that person was, they were inciting rebellion, and they wanted Umbridge to hear it.
So she did. "Who might've said that?" she asked, blinking innocently. "Which of you lovely children would say such a thing?"
There was a moment of silence, and then. "It came from the Slytherin side." A Ravenclaw blurted. "Not us! Them."
"That is such a lie!" Leon Bryce hissed. "It wasn't from our side- we heard it clearly. It came from the Ravenclaws… they think they're so smart." I had to bury my head in my hands to stop myself from grinning like an idiot.
Perhaps our reactions seem a little over the top. Why the blame game? It isn't like she could punish all of us? Not a whole house.
Only, she could. Just ask those third year Gryffindors.
"It was you!" A Ravenclaw girl added her voice to the mix. "I'll bet it was Osyth!"
By my side, Jess hissed in annoyance. "I've told you a hundred million times, Stevens." She snarled. "Your boyfriend threw himself at me- I rejected him. Like I'd want your sloppy seconds. Don't blame me for crap!"
"Language, Miss Osyth." Umbridge interjected chirpily. "And I think that will be quite enough of that behaviour."
Instant silence.
Umbridge gave a satisfied smile and waddled to the front of the classroom. "I've been very disappointed, since term began." She said, smiling a truly gruesome smile. "to see how your work ethic has deteriorated. Studiousness is key, but you spend your time gossiping, and complaining, and exchanging ridiculous conspiracy theories." Her voice turned harsh on that last note, and the whole class leaned back in fear. But almost instantly, the smile was back. "I have noticed this particularly in my lessons with you all. And it has been most disappointing indeed." She illustrated this with a mournful shake of her head. "The Minister for Magic has invested so much energy in this program, and you seem to be squandering his efforts."
I sighed, settling myself in for yet another hour long lecture on the wonders of Minister Fudge. Absently, I picked up my quill and began to doodle on the inside front cover of my textbook. After a moment, Carmeline leaned over to see, and had to stifle a laugh. Curious, Jess peeked at it as well, and smiled her favourite malicious smile.
"I'd believe it." she said softly.
I'd drawn a little caricature of Fudge and Umbridge, embracing by a fireplace, lying on the pelt of a centaur. After a moment of listening to her speech, I added a little speech bubble coming from her mouth:
"Don't worry, Minister. I've studied the theory of screwing most thoroughly."
Carmeline looked again, then bit down on her fist to keep from laughing. Jess shushed us angrily, pointing to the professor.
"I think, students, that you will find these lessons most useful." Umbridge was saying, her voice reaching that sickly level of sweetness which meant that she was ready to punish somebody. Thanks for the heads up, Jess.
"Yeah, but aren't we meant to be learning defence?" A Ravenclaw boy asked bravely. "How does this help with that?"
Umbridge waddled over to him, causing his friends to shoot five feet away, as though he were contaminated by some awful disease. "Well, Mr Corner, the Ministry of Magic itself approves this curriculum." She cooed. "And they had determined that a two-step process to learning such spells is most effective. Step one." She held up one horrid little finger. "You learn the theory of the spell." She gave him a pointed little smile, and eyeing the caricature again, Carmeline snorted. "Step two: when attacked, you use it." She leaned forwards, till she was inches away from the boy. "You don't think you know better than the Minister of Magic, do you, Mr Corner?"
I couldn't help it. Perhaps I ought to have shown restraint, but I was past that. "Yeah." I drawled. "Besides- I think it's clear how these methods can be used to ward off assailants in a two step system, as the professor says." There was an expectant silence, and I shrugged. "Step One: we unnerve the enemy with our truly excellent penmanship." I held up two fingers in a passing imitation of Umbrigde. "And two: we quote from the textbook at them, until they die of boredom."
Perhaps as a reaction from months of repression, the entire class let out an involuntary bark of laughter, almost like an explosion.
Of course, they all reigned themselves in almost instantly, exchanging shocked, terrified glances. They had seen people speak out before, and seen those who'd laughed be torn down. And by now, we'd all seen people – usually Gryffindors – emerging from her detentions with the skin on their hands raw and tender looking, or even worse- bleeding. Everybody knew to be careful.
But as Umbridge stood there, squat and almost puce in her anger, it was like we couldn't control ourselves. To my surprise, it was a Ravenclaw who began it. Not Loony Luna, or the Corner boy, but one of the more studious ones. I didn't know his name, only that he spent every class looking smugly superior and taking copious amounts of notes.
Not today, though. No, today, he started to giggle. Just little huffing noises at first, as though he was having trouble breathing. Then, his face turned pink, and his laugh got louder and more pronounced. And then, he was no longer alone. The whole class began to laugh, and not in an amused way- in a malicious way. Corner in particular was smiling deviously at Umbridge, as though revelling in her downfall. I couldn't blame him.
By my side, Jess was clutching her sides, tears in her eyes, and Carmeline had her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Marcus Cleevebridge was laughing in huge, guffawing bursts.
I can be vain, but I wasn't stupid. They weren't laughing at my half-hearted wit-they were laughing at the whole, ridiculous situation. At a year spent full of stress and panic over Umbridge's rules and regulations, over the lack of useful work we were doing. Over the news of the Azkaban breakout. They were terrified. And somehow, that had pushed them to the edge. The laughter was almost frenzied. It felt like it had gone on for hours, but in reality it was only a few seconds before Umbridge intervened.
"Enough!" She piped up, sounding like a child who'd dropped their ice-cream on the floor- petulant and indignant.
It took a moment for the laughter to die down, but it did, and as the class was quieting, it became clearer and clearer that Umbridge was seriously considering hexing me into oblivion. Her eyes were unnaturally focussed, and she was barely blinking. Her jaw was clenched, and you could see the vein on her head throbbing.
"Why is it," she began sweetly, "that after all this time, Miss Dahlquist, you still find it impossible to be civil?"
Difficult to answer. "I suppose." I said thoughtfully. "it's because you refuse to do your job." Her eyes bulged, and I continued. "If we were attacked, any of us- not by… You know Who… and not by some evil wizard, but just, I don't know, by an animal, or a mugger, or a psycho- not one of us could defend ourselves on what we've learned here." I leaned forwards. "If a muggle came at me with a knife, I'd have no idea what to do. If somebody tried to choke me…." My voice cracked a little, and with effort I pulled myself back together. "I'd just die unless somebody else stepped in."
"Twenty points from Slytherin." Umbridge smiled. "For.. histrionics."
I laughed. "What? Showing concern about my safety, and the safety of my classmates is histrionics now? There are dangerous witches and wizards on the loose." I snapped at her. "You've seen the papers. And apparently Azkaban- most secure prison of the Wizarding World- is less impregnable than we thought- especially if a single fugitive could battle of dozens of dementors to rescue his comrades. And if one man can break out ten prisoners, how many could a team of eleven free?" I smirked at her. "You're close to the minister, Professor." I drawled. "How long til the rest of Azbakan's inmates are walking the streets?"
There was a moment of silence. And then-
"Fifty points from Slytherin." There was a hiss of shock and outrage from the Slytherin side- such a huge deduction of points was excessive. Umbridge's voice was no longer sweet or jolly. She sounded like she'd rip me apart with her bear hands, if only it wouldn't stain her sweater. "You're spreading panic, Miss Dahlquist, and deliberately unnerving your fellow students. And your words demonstrate how little you understand about these matters."
"So… explain?" To my surprise, it was Marcus Cleevebridge who asked, for once not sounding like a complete idiot.
Umbridge spun to face him, faster than I'd imagined was possible for a woman her size. "You are children, Mr Cleevebridge." She said, all sweetness and charm once again, "these are matter for adults. Rest assured that the Minister is dedicated to ensuring all of your safety, and that this program is the best method to do so." She beamed at everybody. "That's all you need to know."
And with that she turned to me. "Miss Dahlquist." She said, tone clipped and restrained. "You will now move to the front of the classroom, away from your little friends." She gave a girlish titter. "Perhaps then you will find it easier to concentrate on the material."
As I held her gaze, Jess leaned over, subtley swapping our textbooks- she took my graffitied one, with the caricature of Umbridge, and slid her pristine one over to me. Inwardly grateful, I picked it up and strode to the front of the class, watching as Umbridge conjured a tiny pink desk to stand beside her own. "Right next to me, please, Miss Dahlquist." I dumped my things, accidentally upending my inkwell on the desk.
"Oops." I drawled, and collapsed languidly into the seat. Umbridge kept her girly smile plastered on her face as she cleaned up me mess for me.
"I think, Miss Dahlquist." She said sweetly, "That a week's worth of detentions with me would benefit you."
"I disagree."
"I shall also notify Professor Snape, and he can think of a punishment for you, as well." She smiled. "Beyond, of course, managing to lose seventy house points in ten minutes."
She was right. That had to be some sort of record.
…..
Jess and Carmeline caught up to me as we left. "Seventy points!" Jess moaned. "This is terrible! And detention and Snape. He already hates you!"
I shrugged. "Maybe he should get with Umbridge." I suggested. "Imagine their children… pure evil with greasy hair and a penchant for pastels."
Despite herself, Jess laughed along with Carmeline as we headed for the stairs.
"That was pretty cool- what you said."
I turned to see a couple of Ravenclaws leaning against the corner of the stairwell. I recognised the Corner boy from my class, and also the nerdy one who'd laughed first, although he looked a little disgruntled and uncomfortable.
I couldn't help but wink at him, just to make him squirm even more.
"Estelle!" Jess hissed, nudging me. On my other side, Carmeline refused to meet anybody's eyes, looking thoroughly pissed off. Seeing that she'd get no help from Carmeline, Jess turned to the Ravenclaws. "What are you talking about, bird brain?" she snapped.
The Corner boy shrugged, and I noticed that he had his arm slung around that awful, superior little Weasley girl. She met my gaze and smirked a little, placing one hand on Corner's chest and flicking her hair out of her eyes.
Corner shrugged again. "I'm not interested in starting a fight- I'm just saying, it's cool that you did that, even if you got detention."
Weaslette looked annoyed by this statement, and shifted a little under his arm. Corner smiled at her but didn't seem overly perturbed. He turned right back to me, although he was rubbing her back with easy affection. "So- why did you do it? Was it the breakout? Did that get you thinking? Cause Potter says…."
"Mike." Weaslette hissed, shooting him a darkly significant look.
"S'alright, Gin." He said, looking calmly back at me. "Just making conversation."
I wasn't looking. I hadn't been paying attention since he mentioned the Azkaban breakout. My nails were digging little crescents into my palms, and I felt my face flushing. "Come on, Jess, Carmeline." I said softly, but with a little steel in my voice.
Corner frowned. "Aren't you going to…?"
I met his gaze directly. "I never need an excuse to tear down a bitch." I told him simply, and then I strode off.
…..
"Bloody hell!" the boy exclaimed, "where did you spring from?"
I'd been running to lunch when out of nowhere, some oaf had careened into me. I seemed to be making a habit of being rammed by complete strangers.
Picking my things up off of the floor, with more than a little resentment, I shot a glare up at him, "haven't you had that talk with your parents yet, Gryffindor?"
To my surprise, I recognised him. It was that Weasley- the quidditch one- the awful at quidditch one. He flushed a pretty distinctive red, matching his hair, "obviously yours haven't talked to you about manners yet, Malfoy."
I raised an eyebrow, "Dahlquist," I corrected with a vicious little smile, "and my mother is dead. But hey, if the father I never knew comes to pay me a visit, I'll ask about these 'manners', as you call them."
He turned redder. I hadn't thought that possible.
"Ron, what are you…. Estelle!"
"Oh, great." I muttered.
Harry laughed, clapping the redheaded boy on the shoulder, "Ron, this is that girl I was telling you about."
"Of course he's a friend of yours," I said scathingly, "I should have known when he knocked all of the books out of my hands."
Harry rolled his eyes, and waved his hand dismissively. As though I'd made a particularly silly joke, not quite warranting his attention, but demonstrative of our wonderful friendship. Obviously, he'd been spending too much time around me.
"Oh, Estelle," he shook his head lightly and indulgently (what, was I a child?), then looked back at me, sharply, "so- are you looking forwards to the Hogsmeade weekend?"
I shrugged lightly, "can't say that I've given it too much thought, actually. Why?"
He grinned, "you should come with us- Ron and I- although I'm going with Cho, I think. Oh, and Hermione. But you don't know her…."
"I don't know him, either," I pointed out, jerking my head in the Weasley's direction. "and I can't say I feel that I'm at too much of a loss, so far."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "claws in, kitten." He said, and though his tone was still friendly, I could tell that he found my rudeness grating.
Interesting- he didn't mind how abrasive I was to him, but if I wasn't civil to his friends….
And more interesting still, I felt a little… guilty. As though I shouldn't have been rude. What was this?
"Sorry," I heard myself say, "it's sort of reflexive, lately."
"Being a bitch?" the Weasley asked sarcastically. Harry shot a glare his way.
I smiled tightly, "ma, oui," I said sweetly, "the French are always condescending. It is in our blood." And then again, that flash of guilt. This Weasley didn't seem so bad, "but truly, I am sorry. I don't know you- I shouldn't be cruel to you."
"No," he grumbled a little, but even as he did, he looked up at me, appraisingly. I felt myself stiffen, unsure if he was trying to gauge my character, or checking me out. I decided I didn't care. So what if he was smiling? His eyes showed that, like the rest, he was judging me.
I dislike being judged, "see something you like?" I asked, voice soft and breathy.
He blinked rapidly, thrown off, and his face turned redder.
"Um…"
"She's teasing, Ron." Harry's voice sounded bored. But more than that, he sounded annoyed. "Ignore her."
I felt a grin spring to my face, "if you can," I said, batting my eyelashes a little. Boys are so easy to make uncomfortable. This one was no exception. Beet red, to the tips of his ears, he muttered something awkward and looked to Potter.
I grinned in triumph. Potter, however, was unimpressed, "and so the Slytherin in you comes out," he said dryly, "you really like making people feel awkward, don't you?"
I shrugged, "I get a kick out of it, yes."
"Elle!" somebody called. I turned around to see Blaise and Draco heading towards me, and while Blaise just wore his usual, slightly sardonic expression, Draco looked livid.
"Merde." I muttered, and turned to face them, praying that Potter and his friend would get the message and bugger off before Draco killed them, "hey."
"What are you doing talking to them?" Blaise asked languidly, brushing my hair off of my shoulders. I could only hope that his tone, so casual, meant that the Gryffindors had done the sensible thing and left.
"Why do you get a say over who she talks to, Zabini?" I heard the Weasley boy spit.
"Shut it, blood traitor." Blaise said coolly, "and stand back. God, it just makes you long for the days when the peasants knew to keep their stinking selves away from the nobility."
"What?" the Weasley boy demanded, obviously intent on continuing his stupidity.
"I can smell your tainted blood from here, Weasley," Blaise smirked, his hand dropping to my waist.
"Oh, lighten up, Zabini," I said, annoyed now, "I can talk to whoever I like. Especially considering that some people aren't actually talking to me, at the moment." I knew better than to address Draco.
Blaise met my eyes, looking mildly surprised. "Of course you can. I didn't say you couldn't, I just asked why you would." I noticed that he side-stepped the issue of his 'silent treatment' tactic completely.
On his other side, Draco hissed at this statement, and Blaise rolled his eyes, "alright, Elle, I reckon we should move away from here before Draco has a fit." His eyes glanced over Potter and Weasley, "you want to say goodbye to the Boy-Who-Lost-It and his pet weasel?"
"Piss off, Zabini," Potter snarled, "or do you want to fight it out, here and now."
Men are so stupid sometimes.
"Do what you like." I announced, "I'm leaving. I'm hungry and the feast started ages ago. There'll be no good food left at all." And then, without looking back at them, I strode off, my fury mounting with each step.
How dare Blaise and Draco try and police my actions after ignoring me for two weeks? How dare Blaise be so touchy feely- as though we were some sort of couple. How dare Draco just sit there and say nothing at all. How dare that Weasley idiot attempt to defend me?
"Dahlquist!"
"Oh, go away, Zabini…" I began to say, but when I turned around, it was Potter. I sniffed. "What makes you think I want to talk to you?"
He shrugged, jamming his hands in his pockets. "I don't know." He said lamely. "I thought…."
"You didn't think." I snapped. "I don't want to talk to you. And why in hell would I want to go to Hogsmeade with you and your friends?" I ran my hands through my hair, beyond frustrated. "I don't know you, Potter. We're not really friends- do you understand that?"
Potter met my gaze steadily, looking pensive and serious. Eventually, he spoke. "I have thought about it, Dahlquist." He said, and I noticed for the first time that he was calling me by my last name. It sounded odd, somehow. "I have thought about it, and we are friends. Maybe it's you who needs to rethink this."
And with a knowing look, he strode off.
"Well." A voice said silkily from behind me. "He was in a hurry."
I jumped about a foot in the air, my hear beating furiously against my chest and my fingers clutching wildly at my wand. But it was just Blaise. As I watched, he raised his eyebrows appraisingly.
"Calm down, Dahlquist." He said, chastisingly. "I was just saying that Potter might be late."
I tried to calm myself down, cursing how jumpy I'd been since the holidays. "Oh? Late for what?"
Blaise's smile was slow and measured. "Remedial Potions." He said mockingly. "And you said that intelligence was the quality you found attractive."
…
Somehow, I ended up going with Elliot Pucey to the Hogsmeade weekend.
Jess almost slapped me, but was thankfully distracted by Blaise walking in wearing a rather dashing blazer/jeans ensemble. Carmeline just shook her head and told me that I was an idiot.
But they did help me get ready.
Or at least, they tried to wake me up.
…..
"Estelle! Estelle what are you doing?" I murmured sleepily, rolling over. Estelle!"
Somebody ripped the covers off of me. Most unkindly, too, I thought.
"NO!" I shouted vaguely, flailing around pathetically as I tried to find my quilt. "No… I…. sleep, please!"
Through my bleary eyes, I saw Jess' face swoop in, inches away from my own. "Wake up, Estelle." She snapped. "You have a date! You have to get ready!"
I considered this, thoughtfully weighing Pucey's potential as a date for Valentine's day against the merits of sleeping in.
Pucey was a quidditch player. He was a year older than us. He was tall and good looking, with thick brown hair and a well-defined jaw. He didn't have pimples and he was quite charming on occasion.
But my bed was so comfortable…
"I'm not going." I mumbled, shoving my head between my pillows and curling up into a ball.
Jess sighed, sitting on the edge of my bed. "Of course you are, sweetheart." She cooed sweetly, sounding freakishly like Umbridge. "It's not some pimply, awkward adolescent waiting for you down there- it's Elliot Pucey!"
"Oh.." I said, voice muffled by my pillows. "You can have him."
Jess made to answer, but was promptly distracted by my posture. "How can you breathe like that, Estelle?" she asked in wonder. "Your face is completely shoved into that pillow. It's like you're smothering yourself."
"I don't need to breathe." I mumbled. "I'm asleep."
"Sleeping people breathe, too." Jess corrected me gently. "But they don't talk. I don't think you're really asleep, Elle. I think you're avoiding this date."
Of course I was.
"Am not." I heard Jess sigh, and then suddenly I was drenched in icy cold water. "Merde! What are you doing, Osyth?" I sat bolt upright, rivulets of water trickling down my face to see Jess staring impassively at me.
As I watched, she shrugged. "Waking you up." She said simply.
Defeated, I stayed upright, slumping my shoulders and curling my legs underneath me. Maman always used to say that I stretched like a cat in the morning. She wasn't lying, and I had yet to grow out of it.
"He's boring." I lamented, while Jess made disappointed noises as she poked at the bird's nest that was my hair. "He only talks about quidditch!"
"Well don't listen to him, Elle!" Carmeline said from the neighbouring bed, peeking out from behind her drapes. "Just… spend that time admiring his physique."
I tried not to grimace. "Why do I do these things to myself?" I muttered in French.
Jess, whose second cousin had run off to France, murmured back. "Because you like to suffer." I shot her a bleary but affronted look, and Carmeline frowned.
"What did you say?" she asked sternly. "Come on- out with it. Just because I can't speak French.."
"I told Elle that she likes to suffer." Jess helpfully put in.
Carmeline's eyes brightened up. "Oh, that's true. It makes her feel better about herself."
"You're both no help." I snapped at them. "No help at all."
Jess frowned at me. "I help." She said. "I introduced you and Pucey.. back when I liked him. And now, I'm going to do something pretty with your hair…"
As she reached behind me, gently gathering my mess of hair into her hands, her fingers brushed my neck.
In a second, I was gone, darting away from her and scrambling for my wand.
"Estelle!" Carmeline cried in shock. It was only then that I saw that I had my wand pointed at Jess. I dropped it in shock.
"Oh, mon dieu." I breathed. "Jess, I…" My hands were shaking. "I just.. I don't like it when people touch my neck…" Now I was shivering all over.
It was clear from the expression on Jess' face that she would like nothing more than to attack me, shout and me and tear me to pieces for scaring her like that. I think that was how I realised that I must look a mess, because despite the anger on her face, after a moment looking at me, she seemed more concerned than anything else.
Carmeline approached from behind me, touching my arm gently. "Well," she said softly. "That was odd."
Embarassed and humiliated, I strode over to my bed, clasping my hands together to stop the shaking, lips pursed angrily. Still kneeling on my bed, Jess put a tentative hand to my forehead. "You feel really warm, Estelle." She said softly.
"I don't feel well." I said, my accent thicker than it had been in years. "I don't think I'll go today."
Jess nodded, thankfully saying nothing. "I'll tell Pucey," she murmured. I didn't really listen. All I could hear was Bellatrix's insane laugh, all I could see were Lestrange's crazed eyes. I started shaking again.
The odd thing was that my overwhelming emotion was no longer fear. Of course, at first it had been. And clearly, I was still afraid. But now, lying in my bed with memories of my almost-death swirling around me, the emotion I felt most was frustration.
Because, even had Jess been attacking me, even if my reflexes could be that quick when I felt threatened, I was still defenceless.
Because, no matter how fast I reacted, I had no idea how I could use the wand in my hand to defend myself.
That was Umbridge's fault. And I wasn't going to stand for it any longer.
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A/N:
First up, huge thankyou to all who reviewed. i really appreciate it! Especially those who've read The Life and Times, and are happy with this as a sequel.
now, a message to Dazzled-Midnight-Melody:
Thanks for taking the time to write that review.. you clearly put a fair amount of thought into it.
Now, for your questions.
The ministry may or may not have on record that Lee committed suicide. Her body was found by muggle authorities, and i think i've mentioned, although i may not have, that Estelle found her wand. So they would not have had that as evidence. However, they'd possibly know that she died of a killing curse. This doesn't necessarily mean that it's public information, though. Good thought though, thanks.
Another good thought: Estelle's inheritance.
I'm not sure about wizarding law in this area.. I'll have to read the books again, because I've been wondering about that. She will not get the house, whether by choice or by some loophole in the law (remember- Sirius specifically left the house to Harry.. this will come up later), but I'm keeping this canon as possible, so she won't inherit it.
And finally- I'm glad we think along the same lines. I won't give anything too much away, but I'm too attached to Sirius to not let him at least see Estelle once before he dies. That's all I'm saying.
Thanks to all the reviews. Each one has made me smile!
