Year Two: The Chamber of Secrets
September first is back again and Marie is ready for her second year. Secrets continue to pile up, the homework gets harder and she's finally able to play a real game of Quidditch. But there's hissing within the dungeon walls, whispering to her...
Chapter Ten- Pieces That Fit
"I-I don't know what happened!" sobbed Ginny. The two girls were still locked in the washroom, away from the current commotion that was unraveling outside. There were screams of shock as the students and staff found Justin's still body. A long bang resounded, restoring the previous silence. It was McGonagall, Marie recognized, and she ordered everybody back to their classrooms.
"Caught in the act!" yelled Ernie MacMillan, another Hufflepuff. A friend of Justin's, thought Marie with another shuddering sob, clasping her hands over her mouth to keep her silence.
"That will do, MacMillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply. The chaos from earlier died into a series of murmurs, falling deaf to the second year girl. Peeves then broke into song:
"Oh, Potter you rotter, oh, what have you done,
You're killing off students, you think it's good fun-"
Marie groaned. Now Harry was catching the blame for the attack, adding to the rumors. This was definitely not her day. Of all things, she wanted Harry to stay out of trouble, not dive into it head first.
"That's enough Peeves!" barked McGonagall. By this point, Marie had stumbled over to the nearest stall and heaved whatever her stomach couldn't hold. Ginny had turned on the water from the sink on high, drowning any sound outside their hiding spot. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the corridor was fully silent again. Regaining her wind, Marie stepped out of the stall and bent over the sink so to splash her face with cold water.
Turning to look at Ginny, she saw that her legs were shaking terribly, feathers were stuck to her robes and her hands were caked in blood. She turned the younger girl toward the sink and started to scrub her hands, just like the night of the message on the wall.
"What happened?" whispered Marie, mouth dry. Her shoulders shook with tears and Marie hugged her tight, red hair tangling with her dark tresses. She shook her head, hiccuping.
"I-I don't know! One minute I was talking to Tom and thinking about taking a nap because I was so tired, b-but the next I'm outside Hagrid's house, looking like th-this and his dead rooster was in my hand!" she explained, voice turning shrill. At this point, she turned heel and ran for the stall, door slamming to the side as she gagged and heaved. Marie came up from behind and pulled her red hair away from her face, rubbing her back gently.
A few moments of quiet passed before an idea came to light. Maybe her friend could shine some light on what had happened to the first year? Couldn't hurt to ask.
"Well, we could just ask Tom what he saw. If he noticed anything weird when you two were talking. That should be a good place to start, right?" suggested Marie. Ginny got to her feet again and walked over to wash her hands, keeping her silence for the moment.
"What's wrong?" asked Marie stepping up to her again. "I'm sure Tom won't mind a few harmless questions, would he?" Ginny bit her lip and looked away, fiddling with a lock of hair.
"Well...Tom...isn't exactly...a person..." she managed. Marie tilted her head to the side, confused.
"Not a person? What is he then?" she asked, worry starting to gnaw at her insides. The first year looked embarrassed as she pulled a small leather book from inside her robe and held it out to the upperclassman. Her cheeks were pink, bringing back some natural coloring, better than the stark white she was previously.
"Tom's my diary," she confessed. Marie slowly took the book from her, looking at it with a wary eye. Something was off about this diary. It wasn't right but she didn't know why. She sighed and flipped through the pages, eyebrows furrowing when she saw that they were all blank.
"Um, Ginny, have you written in this at all? Or maybe it's invisible ink?" asked Marie, flipping the pages back the other direction.
"Oh yes, I've written in it. The pages soak up the ink and Tom uses it to write back," she explained. The Slytherin froze and looked at her friend with caution.
"Wait, Tom writes back?" she repeated slowly. Ginny nodded. "What does he say?"
The red head shrugged. "He just answers questions, he's sympathetic to me. He helps me through my day. He's my best friend," she confessed. She turned and rummaged through her bag and pulled out a quill that had been dipped in ink, handing it to the older girl.
"Write something, he'll show you. I've...told him about you too," she said. Marie took the quill and opened up to a random page in the center of the book. Swallowing thickly, the quill tip touched the page and she wrote,
Hello.
Her green eyes watched her ink fade into the paper like a sponge with water. Hardly a moment had passed before there was a response.
Hello, my Marie.
With a sharp yelp, she dropped the book with a clatter on the bathroom tile so fast as if it were on fire. Ginny looked at her wide eyed but Marie had dropped to her knees, scratching ink onto the page again.
Are you the same Tom?
Her pulse quickened, heart pounding against her ribs.
Yes.
She looked up at Ginny and then back at the book.
Why are you here with Ginny?
The writing came back slowly, fraying her already shot nerves.
She came across my diary and brought me to Hogwarts. That's how I found you and your dreams.
Well, if you're busy being a diary, why and how are you in my head? she wrote back furiously.
That's a story for a different day. Maybe you can ask me when we meet face to face again.
Her stomach dropped. Well, do you at least know what happened to Ginny?
Yes, I do, seeing as it was me who told her to do those things. Marie was about to say something when more writing appeared. But she'll never believe you. I'm her best friend after all. She's trusted me with so many secrets, her poor fragile heart-
At this point, Marie slammed the book closed, breathing hard and shaking. Merlin's beard, she wasn't going to be able to sleep that night. But what about Ginny? She was in trouble too...
"I-I know it's weird, I've never heard of a book that could talk back before, but Tom is really nice and-"
"I think...you shouldn't write to Tom for a bit," advised Marie, returning the book. "Just try to...leave it alone." After a moment, Ginny nodded in agreement, unable to read the older girl's expression. Was there fear?
"Okay..."
Finally, the first term came to a close, much to everyone's relief and there was a rush of last minute packing in the Slytherin dungeons.
"Now where did I leave my brush?" huffed Pansy as she scoured the girl's dormitory, searching high and low. A few pillows slumped to the ground as she continued her search. Happy the cat gave her a reproachful look as she neared Marie's bed, where she was currently napping.
"Pansy, you have about fifty different hair brushes. I think you'll be fine with what you packed so far," teased Marie. The snooty girl looked from her already over packed trunk and then to her friend, then back again. She sighed loudly.
"Fine. I suppose what I have will do. For now," she added. Marie smiled as Millie came up from behind, dragging her own trunk. Which was most likely lighter than Pansy's, if Marie had to guess.
"Are you ready yet, Pansy? The train's going to be here soon," reminded the taller girl. Pansy huffed again, now struggling to close the lid of her trunk. Marie laughed and took a seat on top of it, her weight keeping it shut long enough for the other to latch the lock into place.
"Finally," said Pansy, flipping her hair away from her face. She stood tall, pushing her shoulders back. "Onward, Millicent!" The bigger girl gave her teasing look, showing how she didn't care for her full name and playfully shouldered her as she passed. Pansy followed suit, though with a bit more difficulty due the weight of her luggage.
Marie waved goodbye to her friends as they vanished down the staircase. As soon as they were gone, she double checked the area and pulled out her piece of parchment addressed to Remus Lupin. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves. In this letter, she wrote out everything that happened so far in the term. Everything, including her true House. It was still the rough draft, covered in ink blots, crinkled edges and scratched out lines. She even included the monster, Tom and Ginny's mysterious self-thinking book.
She tugged her robe closer as she headed out into the castle, stuffing the parchment in her pocket. She would write a final copy once she entered the library, then she would borrow an owl and send it off to him. The idea of her guardian finding out the cold truth was a fear she needed to get over. It would at least be a fearful secret off her chest and she needed to toss it aside before it crushed her.
Marie had rounded the next hallway, almost connecting paths with Professor Snape. At the sight of her Head of House she flinched and lowered her gaze immediately, doing her best to avoid him.
"Miss Rogue." She froze, shoulders tensed. It took a moment for her to bring her green gaze up to his dark one. She distinctively remembered him instructing her to look him in the eye when speaking.
"Yes, sir?" she said softly. He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, folded envelope. Her eyes widened as he held his hand out to her, indicating that it belonged to her. She looked from the envelope, then up to him and back to the envelope. Slowly, she took the note from his long fingers, doing her best not to make any physical contact. It took her only a moment to open the letter and skim the lines quickly.
Immediately, her face lit up like the American Fourth of July, the bright lights from Muggle fireworks. Snape saw her eyes reread the letter just to be certain. She smiled up at him, grin radiant.
"Thank you, Professor!" she smiled. She turned heel sharply, heading back the way she came. She had a suitcase to pack after all.
Snape's dark eyes narrowed when a piece of parchment fluttered in her wake. Snatching it before it reached the floor he brought it up to eye level, the thick ink strokes and mad scribbles grabbing his attention. He stood in the hallway for a few moments, double checking what he had just read. With a heavy sigh, he pocketed the letter and resumed his path.
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