"Sig!" Eowyn whined next to her, sky blue eyes throwing her that disapproving look she already knew all too well. Her friend's bony hand curled around her arm, attempting to pull her away through the mass of students that filled the long stone hallways, and Sigrid had to fight the urge to roll her eyes. "No way, Sig. Not again. You're always at the library after classes. Come eat dinner with us for once!"
The vivid chatter that filled the hall from all the students finally done with the week's classes was loud enough for their words to not call any attention. As usual, with the promise of the weekend ahead, it seemed that every student was already eager to enter into the comforting warmth of the Great Hall and joining in to joke and celebrate with their friends. Friday's were always the same.
"I have work to do." She complained, readjusting her bag- which was a little heavier than it should have been with books- over her shoulder, managing to break herself free from her friend's grasp. She was only thankful that the twins were nowhere to be seen for she was sure they would have managed to carry her all the way to the Great Hall without even listening to her protests.
"You always have work to do!" Eowyn chastised, shaking her head as she swayed her arms in exasperation. "We're in the same classes! What work could you have that I don't?"
"I just want to get ahead." She lied. Still, she knew that her lie would go on unnoticed, after all she had a reputation for liking the solitude of the library. "Besides, I have detention with McGonagall, remember?"
She hated to say that out loud again, but she knew that Eowyn would let her be under that excuse. Not that it was an excuse, for she did have detention with McGonagall in just a little less than an hour. It had been humiliating enough that night, well morning really, after she returned to the Gryffindor common room only to admit to her friends that she had been caught walking through the halls at night and now had to attend detention. Not that any of her friends had found that humiliating and embarrassing in the slightest, Elladan and Elrohir torn in between celebrating her for finally doing something against the school rules and chastising her for being as dumb as to being caught in the act.
She left out Lasgalen from her story though, not telling any of her friends – not even Eowyn in secret- that he had been a partial reason as to why she had been caught. She also failed to mention that he too had detention with her in less than an hour. And still, she could not really tell why she had left it out, why she had been so intent into keeping it a secret. But she could not get herself to tell it, already knowing the questions that Eowyn would ask, the way her eyes would throw warning looks at her as if to tell her that she should get away from him, that he only ever caused trouble. And then there was the fact that if she mentioned him in the tale, then she would need to explain why he had been there with her, and she could not get herself to speak of how utterly frightened and shaken she had found him.
It was all too strange and yet she could not get it out of her mind, like parasitic thought that had made a host of her head and she could not get away from it. She owed no loyalty to Lasgalen whatsoever, could not even consider him a friend. Then why did it bother her to tell anyone just frightened he had been? That she had seen him at all that night? It made no sense, but she felt as if she would be betraying a secret that she had not been asked to keep.
"Fine." Eowyn sighed begrudgingly, one of her hands placing a loose strand of her long golden waves behind her ear, rolling her sky blue eyes at her. "But you have to tell me everything about your detention later."
"I will." She promised, letting out a silent chuckle at her friend's interest in hearing about detention as if it was the school's latest gossip.
Not wanting Eowyn to change her mind and start questioning her again, she quickly started making her way through the crowd of students. She did not miss the occasional odd looks that were thrown her way, as she was obviously heading in the opposite direction of the mass of chatting students, but she could not have cared less.
She reached the library sooner than she had expected, her mind too full of questions and thoughts for her to fully be aware of her surroundings. And just as she had expected, it was empty. Good. She liked it empty.
Only Madam Pince occupied the room, as usual, her eyes not even lifting from a heavy tome she had over her desk as she heard the door open. Her black pointy hat suddenly appeared more menacing than ever before, and ugly twisted thing that made her face look longer and paler. Shaking her head slightly, and not wanting to be too noticed by the stern librarian, Sigrid made her way towards her usual table, the long wooden surface empty of any books and stretching vast into one corner of the room, next to the roaring fireplace.
She set her bag down on once of the chair, wincing slightly at the sound it made as the heavy books inside it collided with the wooden seat. She really should take some books out and leave them in her trunk in the Gryffindor tower instead of carrying them around. Her deep brown eyes searched for the large enchanted clock placed high on the wall over the fireplace. She had forty minutes before she had to show up at McGonagall's office, so she better use her time efficiently.
Without wasting another second, Sigrid made her way through the tall imposing shelves full of books of every single color, height and thickness, her feet seeming to know the way through the maze of books almost by heart. But of course she knew the way. She knew exactly where to look, she had been here the entire week, digging her nose through nearly every copy of the Daily Prophet that was stored in this particular shelf.
And once again, she could not really find any logical reason for what she was doing, as to why she was so intent in finding out something that she did not even know what it was. But she could not shake it out of her head, could not force her mind free from it. She could still see the slanted letters flying in front of her eyes…..St. Mungo's Hospital….'treatment'…So many dates, so many weeks sometimes months…September 4 2007 to September 7 2007…April 9 to April 14 2002…..She could not shake it out her mind, her curiosity stronger than her. And then there was that date, the one that she could still see plainly written behind her eyes every time she closed them…..June 6, 1996. There had been a year and half spent in St. Mungo's at that date, and none before that…..whatever happened needed to have started that day. But what? What was she looking for? Why was she looking for it? It was certainly none of her business.
She should never had opened that file at Dumbledore's office. She had had no right into looking inside it. And yet she had, and now that she had she could not shake off the feeling that she needed to know, her curiosity taking the most of her. She took a dep breath as she reached her destination, facing the tall imposing shelf full to bursting of old wrinkled copies of the Daily Prophet, glad that the school kept them as resources for research. It had been hell to find the section of newspaper's printed in 1996, and even more a torturous task to find any copy belonging to June of that year. But she had found them. It had taken her nearly the entire week to find where those copies where located in this massive shelf, all the while cursing Madam Pince for not labeling them, but she had found them.
She let her fingers travel to the pile of newspapers that belonged to June 1996, carefully taking them out of the self, looking out to not damage even a single corner of a page. A cloud of dust exploded in the air, as it always did, and she had to shake one of her hands in front of her face to void sneezing.
Throwing a long look around her, as if to confirm that the library was in fact empty, she lowered herself to sit on the floor, leaning her back against the hard wooden shelves of the bookcase. It was not worth the trouble to walk these heavy newspapers back to her table. And once again she started her task of going one by one through the newspapers, looking carefully at the dates printed in small back letters at the top right corner. She had already been through all of these, and yet she kept on looking, feeling that she must have missed it, it had to be here and she had just overlooked it. But it wasn't.
She let out a frustrated sigh as she ran her fingers through her blond locks, not caring as she accidentally pulled some strands free from her messy bun. No. it had to be here. Resolving herself to look again, she started once more her long look through the pile of newspapers sitting heavily on her lap, looking overly carefully at all the dates once again and checking to make sure she did not miss any. But it was not there. There were 29 copies of the Daily Prophet for June 1996, where there should have been 30…And the dates skipped from June 5 to June 7. There was no copy for June 6.
Sighing irritated, Sigrid let her head fall back against the wooden shelf. She had gone through every newspaper in the shelf already if only to trick herself into believing that perhaps that one copy had been misplaced, but all the copies where neatly placed in accordance to dates. Even the ones she held on her lap, the entire collection of that June were placed in order, from 1 to 30, only missing that dammed 6 in the middle.
She had also already gone through every single one of these copies laying on her lap, reading even the smallest of articles, and yet she had found nothing worth of her interest. Shaking her head slightly, she took out the only two copies that so much mentioned anything related to the Lasgalens, deciding that reading those articles a third time would do no harm, picking out the copies of June 8 and June 12.
She opened the June 12 first, well she did not really need to open it for the article that she had bene looking for was right in front of her covering the first page with bold black headlines.
"Prime Minister Oropher Lasgalen Stepping Down. Ministry Refuses to Disclose Reasons to the Press."
Right below the large title was a picture of the regal looking wizard she had seen in one article before. His long silvery hair which fell nearly to his waist and the pale sharp features of his face were immediately recognizable, wearing formal robes of a dark burgundy. She could see flashes washing over the image, no doubt from the many cameras trying to capture it, while the wizard in question raised his hands in front of his face and refused to look directly at the front. Still the article did not say much more than the title did, and instead talked little about any reasons for the late Prime Minister's unexpected resignation. There were some speculations mentioned by odious gossiping journalists attributing it to the position being beyond the wizard's capabilities, and others that tried to attach the reasons to his wife's recent death. But no real reason was given, and the article thus went on about who would take over and which were the most popular and preferred options.
And then there was the short obituary in the Daily Prophet for June 8 that year, almost forgotten and invisible in one corner of a page. She had to search for a little while before being able to find it again. But sure enough she found the picture of that beautiful witch with platinum hair and overly pale skin smiling back at her, looking more like a woman made of snow with the Moon in her hair. Her pearly teeth shone as she smiled brightly, illuminating the deep warmth in eyes of a very familiar icy blue color, except that these were open, wide pale blue oceans that expanded welcoming and inviting.
The name below the picture read in thin slanted letters: "Isadora L. Lasgalen, neé Isadora L. Merser. 10 December 1969 – 6 June 1996." There was not much written below the picture, just a few words about her and how she would be missed. It did not even mention any other names apart from her husband's Oropher Lasgalen, making her Thranduil's and Legolas' mother. And yet it was the only thing in any of the newspapers lying on her lap to mention that date: 6 June 1996. And still it did not help at all!
Letting out another frustrated sigh, she let her eyes wonder once more to the enchanted clock on the tall wall, cursing under her breath as she realized that she only had five minutes to make it to McGonagall's office. She knew better than to be late for detention. Pushing herself up, she carefully returned the newspapers back to the shelf where they belonged before walking back to her table, throwing her heavy school bag over her shoulder and grumpily leaving the quiet sanctuary of the library.
Outside the library, the long stone corridors were empty, the absence of the usual chatter and running footsteps making them feel longer and larger, the stone colder, as if it could whisper behind her back. She made her way without even paying attention where she was going, trying her best to ignore the many teasing comments she received from the paintings on the walls as she reached professor McGonagall's office.
Forcing herself to stand as straight as she could, she knocked on tall door, stepping cautiously inside as the door opened on its own after her first knock. The room inside was warm at least, warmer than the every cold that November had caste over the long corridors of the castle. A bright fire already danced in the modest fireplace, casting orange and yellow tones over the generously sized room.
"Miss Bowman." McGonagall's stern voice announced into the air as her grey piercing eyes looked at her over her delicate glasses. "I was beginning to wonder if you had forgotten about coming."
Her dark brown eyes flew to the clock hanging on the wall above McGonagall's desk, noticing that she was just right on time and making a mental note of arriving early should she get any other detention with McGonagall. Apparently she expected punctuality to the maximum and arriving on time would the same as arriving late.
Thranduil Lasgalen was already there, standing patiently in front of McGongall's desk, not even turning to look at her as she entered the piece. His long silvery hair cascaded freely down his back, as it usually did, towering tall and looking slightly out of place in this warm and welcoming room. At least he had known to arrive early.
"Good." McGonagall said as she set down her quill over her large desk, looking at them both underneath her sharp gaze that made her feel the need to apologize although she didn't know for what. "Now that you have both decided to be here, you can start with your tasks for the evening."
She nodded her in imitation of Lasgalen, walking to stand next to him facing the stern professor, feeling him towering a full head taller than her. She could feel sweat starting to form on her pals, her heart racing in her chest as she anticipated what it would be they would require to do tonight. She hated detention. She hated the disapproving look that professors always gave her during it, feeling that she should have known better than to cause trouble.
"Follow me." Professor McGonagall's voice left no space for argument, rising to her feet in a swift move and already making her way towards the door before any of them could react forcing her to have to run a little to be able to catch up.
They made their way through the cold hallways in complete silence, only the soft echo of their footsteps following them through the torch-lit corridors. A thousand different scenarios and destinations ran through her mind as she tried to push them back, not daring to ask where it was they were headed. At least- and thank Merlin- not dungeons, for they were located the opposite direction in which they walked. That was a relief.
The relief, however, was short-lived, her heart flipping wildly inside her chest as she noticed McGonagall leading them right to the obscenely large pair of doors of the castle's Main Entrance. They were going outside? But it was already dark? Merlin if they made them go into the Forbidden Forest she would panic and the Sorting Hat would definitely want to reconsider ever placing her in Gryffindor.
Yes, they were definitely going outside, she noticed as McGonagall pushed one of the doors open and walked right through it. She did not show her nerves, proud of her composure as they silently made their way down the many front steps and onto the slightly damp green grass. It was a wonder it had not yet snowed.
They crossed the ample yard and walked straight towards Hagrid's Hut, her hands straightening her dark school robes to give something to do to her hands as she heard McGongall knock patiently on the plain door. There a loud noised coming from inside, as if some pots or cups had fallen messily to the floor, and loud barking suddenly filled the air.
"Ah! Professor!." The door opened to a man that was almost too large to fit through it, his thick beard and massy hair covering nearly half of his face. Sigrid did not miss the particular ugly and half-burnt cooking glove that Hagrid still carried on his right hand, and she had to force her lips to not smile at it. "Are these the trouble-makers, eh?"
"Good evening, Hagrid." McGonagall inclined her head slightly, her eyes suspiciously looking past the half-giant and into the mess she knew must be inside the little hut. "These are the students who will carry on detention tonight, yes. I trust you can take it from here?"
"Sure!." Hagrid let out a roaring laugh that McGongall did not seem to find funny in the least, her mouth still pursed into a thin line. "I know just where to take 'em! Leave 'em to me, professor."
"Good." With a curt nod of head, McGonagall turned around, throwing one long stern look that seemed to be able to turn things into ice before starting her march back to the castle, leaving her and Lasgalen standing there in front of Hagrid, waiting for instructions.
"Fang!" Hagrid called behind his back, and she nearly jumped as a large black dog emerged from the hut, wagging its tail as it barked at nothing in particular. "Ye two come with me."
Sigrid swallowed once as Hagrid led them through the dark expanse of grass following the forest's edge. There was no moon on the sky that night, and the few silvery light that the starts managed to cast through the overly cast blackened sky helped little to see. Every once in a while, she would hear an owl through the branches, or crickets on the grass. They walked for what felt like an eternity, reaching the blackened mirror surface of the lake and rounding it for long minutes until Hagrid finally stopped in a large expanse of grass to one side of it. She could see the entire castle from here, orange light shining through the many tiny windows and illuminating the tall long towers and slanted roofs as it perched right at the top of the hill.
"Yer gonna need this." Hagrid's voice broke through the silence, handing them two lanterns that only now she realized he had been carrying. She took it eagerly, watching as Lasgalen took his without uttering a single sound. "Ye see this?"
Hagrid had crouched to the ground, as low as his massive size would allow it, using his own lantern to illuminate a patch of the damp grass by his feet. She had to lower herself a little to see, and felt her eyes widen in surprise as the thin needles of grass in font of Hagrid suddenly curled and wiggled like tiny antennae.
"These weeds are killing the grass 'round 'ere. And when they go near the water, the creatures in the lake don't like 'em." Hagrid continued, his overly large hand pulling hard at the moving little green spikes. She jumped back at the thing wailed loudly in a high-pitched screech, wriggling almost non-stop in Hagrid's hand. The thing that had come out of the earth, still covered in damp dirt, resembled an overgrown radish, and she could see something that resembled little legs, like that of an insect curling over Hagrid's fingers, as if trying to climb through them. In a too quick move, Hagrid dropped it unto a tall bucket he had placed next to him – when had he even gotten it?- the creature walking with its little legs almost desperately inside, wriggling's its antennae that looked exactly like grass blades.
"Yer task'll be to root 'em out 'n place 'em in 'ere." She nodded her head as Hagrid instructed, already starting to wonder how was she supposed to distinguish them from actual grass, and already feeling she would end up pulling handfuls of grass instead of her intended target. "And be careful. They bite."
"They bite?" Lasgalen spoke for the first time in the night, his face that perfectly composed expression that let nothing through, making it impossible to guess at what he was thinking.
"Nothing'll happen to ye if they bite ye." Hagrid nearly laughed, but there was nothing comforting in that sound. She most definitely wanted to avoid any sort of magical creature bite if possible. "but mind ye, it'll hurt."
"Off ye go!" Hagrid's hands waved at them, the movement resembling more of someone trying to shoo birds away from a crop, nearly hitting her in the head accidentally. "I'll come back in two hours."
And with that she was left alone in the expanse of grass with no other company that the tall Slytherin seeker, Hagrid's enormous figure disappearing through the darkness the same way they had come. She did not move, eyes the grass around her suspiciously as she tried to make up her mid as to where to start.
She nearly jumped once more as another loud screech filled the air, her head snapping around only to find Lasaglen holding one of the little creatures in his hand, dropping it hastily on the bucket with its sibling.
"Disgusting." He commented, his lips curving up in an amused smile, the first sort of expression she had seen on his face.
"Feels like de-gnoming a garden, does it not?" She muttered in return, reaching down quickly as she noticed a little blade of grass wriggle and curl, successfully pulling out another creature which screamed and curled in her hand before rushing to drop it in the bucket.
"I don't know how that feels like." His cold velvet lined voice replied, icy blue eyes not even turning to look in her direction as they remained fixed by his feet, and she had to control herself not to shake her head at him and his arrogance. Of course he would never have de-gnomed a garden before, there were probably house elves in his no doubt gigantic manor that took care of that.
She watched his tall form as he leaned down once more, only for the create to wriggle deep into the earth just before his hand could catch it, throwing powdered dirt flying around.
"Where did it go?" He seemed puzzled, looking at the spot in which the creature had dug itself into the earth- as if they needed anything else to make this task harder.
"It was faster than you." She failed to suppress a chuckle, dropping her eyes to her feet and faking to be searching for another creature as to avoid that perfectly raised eyebrow she knew she was receiving in return. Another loud screech, but she did not turn to look as she heard him dropping the crying creature in the bucket.
"Sorry for getting you caught." Hi swords surprised him, and she turned around to look only to find him carefully inspecting the grass below before pulling another creature. And yet, his voice had been neither cold nor warm, always that regal tone that let nothing through. She did not need to ask to know that he was referring to that night on the hallway, which had gained them both this detention. It had been him the one to ask her not to leave, and she stupidly had agreed.
"What had scared you like that?" She dared voice her question, her deep brown eyes starting through him sharply, watching as he almost imperceptibly tensed, dropping the creature he had managed to caught which squirmed quickly through the grass and dug itself into the damp earth.
When his ice blue eyes flashed in her direction they were once again cold, hard, impenetrable glaciers that were impossible to read, so detached and distant from everything around him, as if that wintery wall that seemed to always surround him had built back up in less than a second.
"That is none of your business." His voice was calmed, although there was a sudden chill to it that had not been there before, eyes quickly dropping back to the grass, scanning the area around.
"It is if it got me in trouble." She persisted, knowing that it was a weak excuse of an argument as to get him to tell her, but tired and angry at his cold mysterious demeanor and useless small-talk. And too curious not to want to know.
"It was nothing." He denied her, pulling out another creature and walking away to throw it in the bucket without ever so much giving her a glance. Every single one of his moves was as graceful as a practiced dance, so effortless, standing tall and giving an air of royalty that both fascinated her and made her stomach churn in disgust.
"You were shaking." She contradicted him, even though she knew he would not like it. But why was she pushing it? Still she remembered all too well how he had been gasping for breath as his whole body trembled, his fingers not able to unclasp the window open in his fright. She had never seen anyone so frightened before, so shaken.
"I will not tell anyone." She added quickly, but it did not seem to make any difference. Besides, why would he trust her not tell anyone?
"It was nothing." He replied, his voice so casual that she would have most certainly believed him had she not seen him shaking uncontrollably under the rain with her own two eyes. And she didn't know why, but she decided to drop the subject. He was not going to tell her anyway.
"Why are you always so friendly?" She had to hide her glare from showing on her face, shaking her head at his attitude.
"Perhaps because you cannot keep your nose in your own business." He was smirking at her now, those icy blue eyes as impenetrable as before, making her want to erase that smile from his face.
"Ow!" Pain flashed on her right hand's index finger and she immediately dropped the wriggling creature she had forgotten she was holding. A tiny cut was open in the tip of her finger, a few drops of bright crimson already emerging from it. "It bit me."
"See?" He let out a single chuckle that floated through the silent air, an eyebrow raised high on his face. "Mind your business."
She glared at him fiercely, cursing that he was not looking at her anymore and instead concentrated on searching for yet another creature to pull. She shook her hand, deciding not to waste her energy on him. Why was he always like that? One day asking for her help and being oddly nice and the next once again this cold arrogant self that she could not really place. He was so hard to read, as if he did not want anyone reading him, and yet he was never openly mean. And yet for a second she had believed that all of these shielded self and cautious atitute of his was nothing but a mask.
Perhaps she should finally listen to Eowyng and the twins, perhaps she should finally agree with what was said around the school and admit that Lasgalen was as coldhearted and despicable as the Gryffindor's said he was. And yet, she still wanted to find out for herself. She was only glad that most of the pain had vanished from her finger, the initial sting of the bite now completely gone and dulled to a mild ache. She would survive it.
"Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" She changed the topic of the conversation, not set on letting the silence he so liked to engulf them again, always using it as his shielding blanket. She had to admit that she herself could not wait to get out of the castle for the Satruday, the last visit to Hogsmeade felt almost too long ago.
"That is tomorrow?" He furrowed his brow as he spoke, dropping yet another creature in the bucket.
"Yes it is." She clarified, cleaning the dirt that covered her hands on her school robes- a thing that was useless at the moment for she knew she needed to continue pulling creatures from the grass. "You don't seem to pay much attention to dates."
She mocked him as he turned his eyes away from her, always distant and disinterested, recalling how he too seemed to have forgotten when his next Quidditch match was. Yet, he merely shrugged at her, as it knowing or not knowing when the next visit to the small town was did not really interest him.
"I guess I'll go, sure." He replied in that clamed tone she was starting to know all too well, that peaceful tone that could carry on superficial small talk for hours yet disappear in complete silence the second the conversation became of a more personal nature. "Alexis will want to go."
She hated how her stomach tied up in twisted knots at the mention of that name, proud that nothing at least showed up on her face. Why did she always get this feeling? This green monster that she hated so much yet would not leave her alone?
"Oh yeah. Is she your girlfriend?" She asked as casually as she had asked all of her previous questions, feigning ignorance when she already knew the answer to that question. She had already met the girl, so she could not completely pretend not knowing who she was.
"You could say." Was all the answer she received, watching him dick down and pull yet another squirming crying creature. "Will you go as well?"
"Yeah, of course." She shrugged, dropping another creature unto the bucket before it could earn her another bite. One was already enough. Had it not been two hours yet? This task seemed to be taking them all night!
"Are you going to buy more spicy mustard flavored sugar quills?" He mocked her, that arrogant smirk adorning his face underneath he icy gaze of his sky colored eyes.
"Stop mocking that." She half-heartedly glared, getting tired of that. Had he not mocked her for that already? Why repeat it? "That is getting old. Why do you like bringing that up?"
"Because it was the worst thing I've ever tried." He chuckled again, a sound so strangely refreshing that she could not tell how she felt about it.
"You are a strange human being who doesn't even like candy, so that makes you the worst person to judge what tasted good or bad." She muttered between he teeth.
"Hm." Was all the answer she got, but she forced herself to take a deep steadying breath and not lose her patience.
"Why the sudden interest in tomorrow's visit to Hogsmeade?" He spoke just when she had thought silence would wash over them once more.
"Simply trying to make conversation." Ice blue eyes were once again looking at her as if she was the strangest thing he had seen, a look that immediately made her feel uncomfortable, piercing through her yet letting her see nothing swirling in those wintery irises.
"Why?" He questioned her again, as if not really understanding what interest could she have in making conversation with him, and honestly she could not tell why either. It wasn't as if he was fun and nice to talk with.
"It's none of your business." Oh how good those words tasted on her tongue as she recited them right back at him, watching as his lips curved up slightly in another smirk before he turned to look away from her. He would not dare to argue against words he had previously used for his advantage.
"You too are so friendly." She could nearly hear the smirk in his voice as he turned around, already looking down and searching through the grass and pretending to no longer be paying any attention to her. Oh, he knew exactly how to bite back at her and make her blood boil, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeing that, it was enough to notice that amused victorious gleam in his eyes.
"Agh!" He hissed before she could think back of something to say in return, shaking his left hand wildly in the air as he dropped the creature he had just pulled out, already inspecting his middle finger. The radish-like creature went squirming through the grass, quickly digging itself into the earth and disappearing with a high-pitched cry.
"It hurts when they bite." She warned him – as if he did not know- slightly glad at the creature for biting him just in the appropriate time. He deserved it.
She turned her head to face him, her lips already curving up in a mocking smile, which dropped almost instantly. He was holding his left hand tightly in his right, his knuckles white, and even though she could only see a few droplets of blood coming out of the tiny bite in his finger, his eyes were shut tightly as his face contorted as if in extreme pain, ragged breathing coming out heavily through his nose and gritted teeth. She waited for a second, finding his reaction a little exaggerated and waiting for the pain of the bite to pass. It had hurt when she had gotten bit but certainly not this much?
"Are you ok?" She tentatively took a step forward when the worst of the pain did not seem to be passing. It had only hurt her a couple of seconds. Why was he still holding his arm as if the creature had bitten it off entirely? And yet she could not help the sudden worry that building in her stomach.
Lasgalen did not answer her, not even seeming to have heard her, biting forcefully into his lower lip as his continued to lay tightly shut, seeming to be trying to stifle a groan. In a couple of seconds his whole face had gone deathly pale and she could see tiny beads of sweat accumulating on his forehead. This was not the normal expected from that tiny bite. It could not be. What was wrong?
"Should I get Hagrid?" She asked, starting to panic a little, trying to think on something she could do. He was going to draw blood if he kept biting that hard into his lip.
He shook his head quickly, his right hand flying to grab at her arm before she could go anywhere preventing her from moving. He dropped it a second later, once he seemed to understand that she would not go get Hagrid, only to bring it back to grip his left hand tightly.
"What is it?" She continued to ask him, feeling increasingly useless at his obvious high level of pain. But he merely shook his head, gritting his teeth too hard for him to let out any word through them. He had not yet opened his eyes, his face still crunched up in agony under his tightly knit brow. This was not a normal reaction. It was more than a mere bite. But what was it?
And yet no matter how much she studied him in her panic to try to find any way to be able to help, the more she it became evident that it was the bite. Everything pointed to it, seeming clearly to be the cause of his pain, from the way in which he continued to clutch his hand desperately, opening his eye sonly to inspect his slightly bleeding finger which he did not even dare to touch in order to clean. But it did not make sense. The degree of pain in which he was was not correlational to such a tiny bite. In mere minutes he had gone so pale she feared he would fall over, not matter how steady he seemed on his feet.
She pushed him down by the shoulders to sit on the grass, glad when he did not complain, barely seeming to notice it through his greeted teeth and tense posture, and she dropped herself to sit next to him, trying to think of anything to do to help. His right hand dug fiercely into the grass next to where he sat, fingers nearly pulling out the thin green blades.
She didn't know how long she sat there, her heart racing inside her chest like a caged bird the entire time. It seemed almost an eternity until slowly, ever so slowly she saw his finger's relax, the tight knit on his brow easing as his breathing seemed to return to even deep breaths.
"Are you ok?" She repeated her question, not knowing what else to ask. What had happened?
He nodded his head, almost imperceptibly, blinking his eyes open only to reveal those icy blue irises that remained as guarded and unreadable as the unyielding surface of a frozen ocean. She sighed in relief, letting out a breath she had not known she had been holding.
"I'm not pulling out any more of those things." He said lowly, throwing a poisonous glare to the grass around him as if half expecting another of the creatures to suddenly jump at him.
"I think we already collected enough of them." She agreed, nodding her head in the direction to the half-full bucket of squirming and screeching creatures. Those were definitely enough for one night, and she also had lost all desire to keep pulled them out from the ground.
She took a second to carefully study him, not missing how he still kept his left arm safely resting over his lap against his body, his hand trembling lightly. She adverted her gaze quickly, not wanting to be caught staring. Instead, she lowered her eyes at her own finger, where she could see the little cut from the creature had bit her. It was still there, red and a little achy, looking exactly the same as the cut on his finger, but then again hers had hurt only the normal expected amount, like the tiny cut it was.
"Why did it hurt like that?" She asked, her voice nearly a whisper, not flinching as his eyes darkened coldly, a long second of silken stretching uncomfortably through the air.
He shrugged, turning his head to look in another direction, one again pretending to no longer be interested in talking. But it did not fool her. There was something he was not telling her. Not that it was any of her business, she had to remind herself.
"Not as if I truly expect any answer from you." She whispered in return, shaking her head in resignation before pushing herself to stand up, walking to retrieve the bucket from where they had left it.
"It just….hurt." His barely audible voice made her stop in her tracks, turning around to face him once more. He did not look up to meet her eyes, did not even turn his head in her direction, but there was something in his voice that had not been there before, as if suddenly sounding different without the cold regal string to it.
It was her turn to nod her head, not knowing why but suddenly losing all interest in questioning him momentarily. Instead, she carefully picked the forgotten bucket in both of her hands, trying not to look down at the disgusting creatures as the squirmed and tried to climb on top of one another in order to break free. She made her slow way back to where he too was pushing himself to his feet, depositing her charge just as she noticed a large silhouette making its way towards them through the yard. Hagrid. Their two hours were finally over.
Here's chapter 9! I hope you enjoy it! I know the plot develops slowly but all the details are needed for the story!
Thank you so much for your comments to Eryniel Greenleaf, Rose61393, It'sBeenARealSlice and guest!
Guest reviewer (sorry haha you left no name): I know it's taking ages to pick up but because all the details play a part in how the story needs to flow. Legolas will appear again soon, he's also involved in the plot although I won't say how yet!
Love,
Elena
