A/N: Last chapter, was a bit more emotional than I think it has been, and it's a bit like that through the beginning of this one. It starts a little darker as Raven starts to crack under the pressure of her doubt surrounding her past and the feeling that there is something very important that she doesn't know about herself. But I hope it's still good. Please review!
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, as if I don't know it already.
Raven's POV
I push a strand of black frizz from my tired eyes, listening to the sound of my own breathing as I pour over page after page of battered old books. The midnight owl pacing my dresser huffs indignantly, it's glossy feathers now ruffled at the sound of Mum's screeching, mostly likely over Hugo's developing obsession with photography. Though he now uses a wizard camera (thanks to my powers of persuasion, not to mention pocket, little bribes do wonders), he still won't put it down and the only way you can catch a glimpse of him is through the lens. Hushing the noisy owl, I sigh deeply. The quiet peace of my Christmas Masquerade seems a million miles away, and I wish it didn't. The amount of times people say 'feels like it were only yesterday'... I wish it were true. The steady calmness, a deep, steady heartbeat... who's heartbeat was it? Not mine, mine was like a little rabbit, still relaxed, but light and irregular. And cologne, dark and spicy. I can't really remember now, my brain's too addled from my searching. Too fritz to enlighten me. I hear the door open behind me.
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" I scream, eyes wide, hair falling out of its once neat ponytail, convinced of danger. A wordless scream echoes off the dark walls of my bedroom, the curse bouncing off the door and narrowly avoiding my expensive looking owl, which zooms out of the open window in disgust, leaving my bureau a mess of papers. The door flies open, and a disgruntled, non-attacker glares at me.
"Every time! Raven why are you so paranoid?!" She shrieks, looking exasperated as I shove my wand into the back pocket of my black jeans. I look up into the worried face of a middle aged woman, her narrowed eyes a brown-green hazel, a few inevitable lines of age creasing her otherwise pretty face. Chestnut hair, streaked with a light grey is piled on top of her head, her slim arms crossed over her apron in full foot-tapping mode.
"Sorry." I reply curtly, swinging my leathered office chair around again, effectively turning my back on the frowning figure of Hermione Granger-Weasley.
"It's time for dinner." She sighs, sounding weary.
"Not hungry."
"You haven't eaten a decent meal all week!" She cries, sounding as exhausted as I feel. "Ray, you're not healthy. You don't look well."
I pick at the faded black leather of the padded chair and pretend she's not there as I study the matt paintwork of my dull black walls.
"Oh Raven. What's happening to you?" I turn slowly, facing her with an empty expression that makes her cringe. I stare as a paint flake falls, revealing the bloody hell of my mind as it does so. If anything has ever scared her more she has never shown it. My bedroom has had a special charm on it since I was seven years old, one that reflects myself, the colour and vibrancy depends on me. It reminds me of a Patronus, or an Animagius. This is why she is scared. As the walls threaten to splinter and crack, so do I. Blinking slowly, I feel myself shaking. Mum jumps as empty butter beer bottles begin to pop and shatter all around my room as my magic overwhelms me. Shards fly against the walls, a few slicing my skin, yet I show no pain or emotion as I stare down the terrified woman.
"I think you should leave." I state slowly. "Before you get hurt." Hermione begins to cry.
"Raven? Baby?" She asks, oblivious to the damage she could sustain, oblivious to anything but her fear of losing me. Her ignorance makes her vulnerable, and the last thing I need is vulnerability. I have enough for a thousand of me, I don't need another. She has no idea.
"GO!" I scream as the walls violently change to a bright, blood red, the shade almost glossy enough to be wet. Frightened eyes wide, she scrambles away, closing the door behind her in her panicked frenzy of terror. I know how these explosive episodes end, and I refuse to let her see me break down on my brief decent into a frightening, yet temporary madness.
Scorpius' POV
How many times have I heard the words 'very disappointing' today? Hmm, I'd ask Grandpa Lucius but I'd surely lose a limb for my curiosity.
"...and I must say Scorpius, such stupidity is not only intolerable, but very disappointing." And there it is, Grandpa Lucius drops the 'very disappointing' bomb once again. My grandfather has a very strict idea of what is proper for a wizard of my 'stature', and what is not. And something he definitely won't tolerate is Muggle games. I enjoy the things they create, especially Poker. So fascinating, I must admit I've formed quite an obsession, one that may even rival that of the scrawny Hugo Weasley with his camera. Not only have I become quite attached, I have become very skilled too.
"I won't stop." I say quietly. "Even if it's just out of spite, I won't stop." Lucius Malfoy stares at me, a wordless rage unconcealed upon his furious face.
"You shall be punished for such insolence. You shall be a Malfoy, you ungrateful child, whether you like it or not. I don't give a damn about how much of a failure your good for nothing father has turned out to be, I shall make a success of you even if it kills-"
"Me."
"WHAT?!"
"You will make a success of me, even if it kills me. Never you. Me." The man raises a hand, trembling with fury, and it is not until it is too late that I spot the wand in it. Late enough that I cannot stop him from plunging me into the familiar white hot agony of the Cruciatus Curse.
(2 weeks later, after the holidays)
Raven's POV
"How was your Christmas, Ray?" Peter chirps, hopping into the free seat next to me. First lesson of the first full day back. Potions. But that's okay I suppose, seeing as Professor Slughorn favours Slytherins and a few select students, one of which is myself (even though I refuse to attend his little 'Slug Club'). No detention for me.
"Pretty bad."
"You still having those... episodes? The ones you told me about, in your letter?"
"Yeah, which meant I was basically alone most of the time. Mum kept bugging me to eat more and everybody kept telling me how ill I look."
"You really don't look right you know."
"Apparently not. It's...strange, you know? It's a bit like my body...or...mind is... trying to, you know, tell me something. Maybe something about my past. Maybe the present, future even. Perhaps all three." Peter looks confused. I sigh. "Merlin. I knew this was a bad idea. I sound crazy."
"No, you don't. But...tell you what? Who knows you better than you do?" He frowns and I shrug.
"No idea." I shrug. "But I do know that it's important. Real important."
"And these...things? They could be like, the side effect. You're stressing over what you think you don't know, and the additional pressure is making you lose control of your magic." Pete wonders slowly, as if figuring it out for the first time. "Which in turn overloads your senses, sending you into a brief fit of-"
"-Madness." I finish for him. He was thinking it, but I know he'd never say it. My saying so renders him silent with embarrassment and contemplation. We remain in awkward silence for a while.
"O-on brighter notes, I... have something to show you. You can have it, if you explain it to me." He adds, smiling as he slides what looks like a piece of paper across the desk. It's a photograph. Of a boy, and a girl. Slow dancing. At the Christmas Masquerade. Both tall and very pale, masks covering their lower faces. She contrasting beautifully in her blood red dress, he handsome in his black tux, crisp white shirt almost the same colour as his hair. White hair? No, blond...platinum blond. When I look closer, I realise it is in fact Scorpius Malfoy. And the beauty so tightly enveloped in his long, strong arms, is me.
"You gonna teach me, or are you gonna stand there smirking at me?" I'd challenged him, an eyebrow raised in defiance, arms crossed. He'd chuckled at me, but a slightly sinister kind of chuckle, like he knew something I didn't. I'd taken another look at the others, that I could just glimpse through the open doors and turned back to him. "Never mind. I think I see how this works." I'd added before he could respond, gripping his arms and wrapping them around my waist. He'd seemed a little surprised at my boldness as I'd wound my own arms around his neck. Maybe even wary and a tad suspicious. "Now, now, Malfoy. I don't bite." I'd smirked, stepping closer. "Hard." I added as a whisper in his ear. Had that been a blush that ghosted his cheeks? I think it was.
Then we had begun to sway, slowly, in time to the music played. After a bit, I'd rested my head on his shoulder, perhaps I'd even nuzzled into his neck a little. He'd seemed completely taken aback by the small, intimate gesture and I'd felt him tense up, and my eyes had flickered to his face. But he'd sighed a little and pressed me to him just a little tighter, though I'd barely noticed it then, as I'd went along with it so easily I had thought it to be my own action, in the tiny part of my brain that had registered it at all. If it even happened. I had felt... comfortable in his arms, and at the time, that hadn't felt strange or odd in the slightest. It had been... different. To know what it felt like to feel my arch enemy's heart thudding against mine, the smell of his skin, sort of spicy, mixed in with the warm smell of firewhisky.
"I must be drunker than I thought." He'd muttered, as if he had known I'd been thinking of alcohol. "And you must be absolutely smashed. Don't know why you'd offer me a dance if you weren't."
"Don't know why you'd accept it if you weren't." I'd countered. "I can still keep my balance and I haven't thrown up yet, so it can't be all bad." I had added, trying to remember how many I'd had. I still don't remember how many. He'd laughed at that and spun me again.
"Let me know if the balance situation changes. I can have that... effect on people."
"Hey, I feel like we're being... watched." I mutter in his ear as we spin together.
"Well, the girl in a Malfoy's arms is always watched, Blackjack ." He drawls, sounding very pompous and conceited.
"Now, now, let's not be an ass." I quip playfully, rolling my eyes. "As much as you love to play 'Mr. Hotshot' not everybody is simply dying of lust for you."
"Oh that's right, just every girl in the school bar you." Malfoy retorts with smirk. "Or... maybe you as well, I honestly wouldn't blame you." I roll my eyes again.
"Maybe you're right, maybe you're not, but not everyone loves you as much as you do."
"That's all you know." He snickers, spinning me out and back in again, making me giggle childishly. When I listen I realise the song has changed, but I was too comfortable to comment, so I'd secretly allowed him another dance, although he hadn't asked for it.
And when that song was over, we went home. And I knew that we'd probably never speak of his grandfather again. He'd watch his words carefully. And, like the children we still are, we'd keep our secrets close.
"Raven?!" A soft voice hisses beside me, snapping me out of my daze. "Are you dead?" Petey murmurs, nudging me sharply.
"What?!" I frown, trying to keep my voice down so Slughorn doesn't hear. There is a cauldron and ingredients on the desk, and instructions chalked on the board at the front of the class. We're meant to be making Draught of the Living Death. I glance over to the other side of the room at the blond boy, sitting next to his beefy friend, trying to begin his potion. Then I turn my attention to the photograph. At the two of us, all snuggled up, drunk as hell, talking about his sexual effect on girls.
"You spaced for a moment there." He replies, looking concerned. "I asked you about the picture, that's all, you don't have to-"
"I-It's fine. We- we were dates, that ridiculous scheme they had with the numbers. We both got twenty one. And, he- we... I found out. And I... helped him. He seemed so bothered about it, I... I offered him a dance, take his mind off things."
"Well, you do tend to distract." He chuckles. "You... found out? Found out what?" My friend asks carefully, not seeming to want to know. I don't blame him.
"I- Well, it's... not my place to say. It wouldn't be right. It's not my secret to tell." I mutter sadly, not wanting to think of what happens at that house. I look over at him now, and jump slightly to find him staring back, light eyes ablaze. Is he looking at me or through me? I can't tell. I realise it's gone very quiet, and my little whisper, in hindsight, suddenly seems very loud. Everyone eventually looks away. Except Malfoy. He looks a little...on edge. Don't blame him. I could have imagined it, but I'm sure he gave me a nod. He looks away then and so do I. Peter says nothing for a while.
"You're talking about his grandfather aren't you? Lucius."
"You knew?! Why didn't you do something?!" I whisper incredulously.
"What can be done?"
"Well, aside from killing the murderous bastard? I bought Malfoy some Bruise Remover for the black eye and told him to stand up for himself." I snap sharply, getting frustrated. "But not before I had a good long talk with that good for nothing Father of his. Damn coward."
"You pulled him up about it?! Draco Malfoy?" Peter asks, appalled. I hesitate, then nod and crush the Sophophorus beans (a tip from Uncle Harry) before adding it to the beaker. I pour in 250 . of water and add 5 oz. of African sea salt too. I don't really want to talk about this, but now I have nothing left to do. I set it aside and hope that the five minutes it should be left for passes quickly.
"Suicidal you are." He mutters, shaking his head in defeat.
"Well, somebody has to be." I snap, staring at the instructions. Next it all goes in the cauldron and add ten drops of essence of wormwood. I allow myself to look back at the photo on the desk. As much as it kills me to admit it, it's a good picture. We match, almost, we suit each other. A pretty couple. I scowl at the two figures, hating the way I'm mesmerized by their slow, circling motions. It's so strange. Strange how good we look in each others arms, the sheer intimacy. So close you couldn't fit a sheet of paper between us, my head snugly resting on the flat of his shoulder, and his head resting on mine. Both of us closed eyed in content as little flakes of snow fall around us.
"Where did you get this?" I ask a little quieter, surprised by how soft my voice is. Petey looks over, a little smile on his face.
"Hugo is more observant than anyone gives him credit for. I bought it from him for 3 Galleons."
"Oh." I slip it into my robe pocket. Silence.
"Why?" Petey asks, frowning. "Why did you do it? I thought you hated Scorpius." I hesitate a moment, busing myself with the next five steps of my draught, trying to think of what to say.
"I-I do. It just seemed the right thing to do. My duty as a human being, I guess." I sigh, still a little confused.
Scorpius' POV
After convincing Vinnie to leave the potion making to me, things went rather smoothly. I glanced over at the frizzy haired Slytherin a few times, perhaps out of habit, perhaps because of what happened at the Masquerade. But I quickly push thoughts such as those from my mind, trying to forget the kindness she'd shown me. That she just showed me, keeping my shameful little secret. She was right, it's not her secret to tell, but it's also not her secret to keep. No harm to her if it comes out. Yet she kept it, for me. She looks worried, mildly confused. Vinnie rambles on about something in my right ear, probably something to do with how much he hates Slughorn, and it's because of that I ignore him completely. When the Professor does come around, he smiles and nods at my cauldron, now containing a pale pink liquid.
"Excellent. As always, Scorpius. And Vincent! Ah...well done." He frowns slightly, eyeing up Vin, who never does anything, usually on my command, after last time he added too many slugs and near blew my head off. Man, Belmont thought that was real funny.
Hey, you're my Blackjack. The thought just jumps through my head. It's the first time I've ever considered that sentence since I said it, on that bench in the Hogwarts grounds, watching the snow fall, with her. Blackjack. My Blackjack. Why did I say that? Or, more relevant...why did I call her mine?
I look over at her now, for reasons I cannot fathom. She's looking right at me, curiosity in her eyes. The distrust and hatred that I have grown accustomed to isn't there. The girl cocks her head at me, brow furrowed in adorable confusion. Wait... Adorable? Where the hell did that come from? I shake my own head, frowning slightly, and depart. She leaves with her Gryffindor cousin, Potter, snorting a little giggle at something he's said. Just like she had as I spun her round, entertaining her with my ego. Dancing in the snow...
Sitting a few seats away, pushing her dinner around her plate, Raven Belmont looks tired. She whispers something to her friend, Zabini's sister, and starts to stand, but is pulled down by her arm. The Zabini girl whispers furiously in her ear, looking mighty pissed and a little concerned underneath it. Belmont proceeds to fiddle with her food again, her face stormy. The boy opposite her seems to be flirting quite heavily and she's paying no mind to him. He's not bad looking really, a little plain though, with light brown hair and watery blue eyes. Smirking slightly, I stand, walk over and stare at the flirting Fourth Year sitting there until he is uncomfortable enough to get up and stalk away. I flop down heavily on his vacated seat and smirk some more at the black haired Slytherin gazing up at me in shock, which she quickly masks with distaste.
"That's no way to greet your saviour." She raises an eyebrow. "Now that little flirt can quit putting you off your food" I grin, nabbing a chip from her plate.
"Hey, Blackjack." She smirks slightly, rolling her eyes.
"Blackjack?" Casius Zabini asks curiously. Raven opens her mouth as if to reply, and then closes it again, seeming a little surprised that she used the phrase herself. I start laughing and she scowls at me, blushing slightly.
"Inside joke. Isn't that right?... Blackjack?" I chuckle, running a hand through my hair.
"I thought he was Blackjack, Ray."
"I am. So is she."
"We're both Blackjack." She adds with a grin, looking from one confused face to the other. He never did seem the brightest of the Zabini twins to me. Belmont smiles at me a little, as if confused, head cocked, brow furrowed. After a small sigh, she rests her chin on her arms, which are folded on the table. I notice that her gaze is no longer on me, but on Pete, who has just sat down. My eyes dart between them as their eyes lock and he stares at her intently, like they're having a silent conversation. I sense her friend, Louise I think, watching them too, whereas the other twin shovels food into his mouth, oblivious to anything other than his fork and his face. Typical meathead. Peter opens his mouth to speak.
"Rave-" But she's not staying, she straightens up fast enough to jog her friends elbow, hindering his constant food intake enough to get his attention. I see something in her eyes as she stares at Pete, something that says not now. Then, mumbling the excuse of homework, she strides off, head down, hands in her robe pockets. "Well, that went well." He mutters, dashing after her. Something's not right.
Raven's POV
I'm not discussing things like that in front of them. Louise. Casius. Malfoy. Especially not Malfoy. Too soft, weak. I'll not have him think me either of those things. No. I'll not let Petey drag me into conversation about it around them. Too embarrassing. I hear Petey running after me, but ignore him, full out running down the stairs into the dungeons. Slytherin Common Room.
"Ray, please! Wait!" Peter pants, holding up a hand in defeat, wheezing slightly. He's never been particularly athletic. Okay on a broom though. "Raven!"
"WHAT?!" I scream, whirling round to face him from the stairs to the girls dorm. "What do you want?" I demand, coming down. He flinches.
"I'm sorry. I thought Lou and Cas should know. They worry about you, especially Lou."
"I don't want them to know. They won't understand. I told you because I knew you would." I cry in reply, slouching into a green armchair. "The Great Hall isn't the place to talk about stuff like that anyway. Especially..." I falter, closing my eyes and opening them. I sigh. "Especially in front of Malfoy." Peter blinks, realization slowly dawns and I see it clearly in his eyes.
"Oh." He murmurs weakly.
"Sometimes you forget we're not all as friendly with the ferret as you are. And I'd rather you didn't bring up my personal business where he can ease drop and tell the world." I snap, scowling at him as he shuffles awkwardly.
"I don't know, you seemed pretty friendly in there... Maybe you don't hate him as much as you think? Plus, if I know him, he would tell, not unless you told the world his secret. Maybe not even then."
"I still hate him. But I can get on for a few minutes at a time purely because I respect him."Sighing, I stand and go up to my dorm, and this time he doesn't stop me.
n