Hey ho!
This chapter is a little shorter, only about 3,000 words, but it didn't require much addition and I think it works well the way I've left it. And I really wanted to get on with the Second Task; let me tell you, you won't suspect a thing, I hope…
And to my reviewer: Anno, thanks for taking the time to review, and I'm glad you like my story. I hate cliff-hangers too, but they are kind of useful.
Thank you to my new followers and/or favouriters! Enjoy, and review!
"Everybody's gonna love today." - Love Today by Mika
Chapter 20: Love Screws Me Up
As if this day couldn't get any worse, now Fred had to contend with being in close proximity with the girl he was making plans to talk to without any warning.
"I'm so sorry!" Selene blushed crimson and pushed her hair out of her face, taking a few steps back from Fred. "I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Uh…" Fred gazed, transfixed with her eyes. "It's okay." He found himself saying, feeling a little bit detached with the real world. It was okay… it was completely okay. It was so adorable, the way she blushed…
Moving her gaze to her bag, Selene quickly picked it up from where it fallen, as the sunlight filtering through the window casually glanced off her hair, making it shine an almost dark blonde colour. Fred moved forwards unconsciously, standing so he was only a few inches away from her and closing the gap that Selene had produced when she moved backwards.
When she looked back at him again, she jumped backwards at their close proximity and knocked a suit of armour over in her shock. It landed on the floor with a resounding clang and very narrowly missed a very indignant Mrs Norris. "Argh!" Selene murmured, turning around to examine her handy work. "Reparo." She waved her wand and the armour fixed itself and attached itself to its pedestal again. "Sorry, I have a bit of a habit about breaking things."
"Never would have guessed." Fred joked, looking between the spot where the suit of armour was on the floor and Selene. "You okay though? It looked a little bit… destructive."
"I'll live." Selene shrugged and shifted her bag so it was higher up on her shoulder. "Sorry about that again, I never seem to be able to keep myself from breaking anything for any long period of time. I almost completely destroyed Professor Flitwick's office once." Her voice trailed off, like she was remembering something.
"I was on my way to the Great Hall, if you wanted to walk down with me?" Fred asked, crossing his fingers in his pocket as he did. In fact, he'd been about to annoy Madam Pince, but details didn't matter. "That is, if you're not busy or anything."
"Sure." Selene replied, sounding pleasantly surprised. Yet another piece of information to add to the long pile of propaganda against his theory that she hated him.
"So, I hardly know anything about you, apart from the fact that you have a younger brother and you play Chaser on the Quidditch team." Fred began, taking his hands out of his pockets and uncrossing his fingers. "What's your name? What's your favourite colour? What Quidditch team do you support?"
"Erm… Well, you know my name, I would hope. My favourite colour's blue and I support the Holyhead Harpies." Selene risked a sideways glance at Fred. "Don't look at me like that; I know your little sister supports them too."
"Chudley Cannons." Fred conferred proudly and Selene sniggered behind her hand. "Hey, they might not be the best but I believe that one day-"
"-Their Chaser will die from getting hit in the head with the Quaffle?" Selene guessed aloud. "They have no sense of direction, and their Seeker is pitiful."
"So, what else… favourite food? Favourite book? Favourite subject? By the way, I hate History of Magic so if you say History of Magic I will never talk to you again." Fred said seriously, looking at her gravely.
Selene ignored this comment. "I've read so many books I can't give you a favourite, sorry. And my favourite subject is Charms."
"Charms?" Fred scoffed. "Now I know, you're that girl."
"Excuse me? That girl? You can talk, I bet your favourite subject is Defence or something."
They continued in much the same way, laughing and joking about small, insignificant areas of their lives on their way to the Great Hall. Eventually, Selene's reservations and shyness faded away, and she forgot completely about the fact that she fancied the guy she was in deep conversation with, whilst Fred noted down everything she said, just in case. Eventually they dropped into a heated debate about Quidditch teams and whether The Chudley Cannons would ever improve before they went completely defunct. Selene was a strong supporter of the All-Witch Welsh Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies and ignored Fred's attempts to recruit her to the Cannon fan club.
"I've supported them since I was two Fred, you can't deviate my opinion either way now." She insisted, giggling slightly at his annoyed expression. "Oh, calm down, I'm sure the Cannons improve one day."
"Shut up." Fred groaned, ignoring her laughter. Now he was really starting to understand her, she was definitely the complete opposite of everything he had originally thought about her. She seemed to truly support the Holyhead Harpies, which sucked for him and his long-term relationship with her. What's more, she didn't reference them as snarky gits, which he found hard to believe. "Okay, don't tell Ron I told you this, but you are probably right, they won't ever win the Cup again, but we can still dream, right?"
"You can dream." Selene said in faux sombre voice, nodding gravely. "You can dream, but it's never going to happen."
"Why you little-"Fred gasped, putting a hand to her forehead. "Are you feeling okay? I didn't think you had it in you to bring the reputation of one of the finest Quidditch teams of all time. It seems you'll be harder then I thought."
Too late, Fred realised what he had said. And there was nothing on hand to whack himself with too.
Selene looked at him a little funny, with her eyebrows raised and her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted. It was an expression full of humour, but it was a little hesitant. Reluctant, even. Her mouth might be amused, but her eyes were quiet. The eyes are a window to the soul, someone had once said. And this had never been truer.
There wasn't a mirror on hand, but their expressions mirrored one another. But Fred's eyes were alight with something, something that might, in a different situation, at a different time, might have looked a little bit like love.
"Freddie?" George poked his twin with the feathered end of his quill pen sharply. "Are you okay in there? Hello? Earth to Fred Weasley! Requesting immediate contact, pronto!"
"Huh?" Fred looked up from the piece of parchment he had been staring at. "What? Has anyone discovered teleportation? Because that is something I could do with. No more endless walking around the place, waiting for something to happen or for Dumbledore to finally lift the anti-apparition wards."
George shook his head sadly and gazed deeply into the fire that blazed in the Gryffindor common room fireplace. "You have it bad, don't you?"
"What the bloody hell are you talking about?" Turning to his twin in confusion, Fred regarded George like he was about to burst into song. "I'm just upset, that's all. If Ange wanted to dump me, she could choose to let me down gently, not just walk up to me after dinner in full view of all of Gryffindor and casually say 'I'm dumping you'."
"Everyone thinks I'm clueless when it comes to women and that isn't entirely untrue, but I can tell when my twin brother is obsessing over something, especially when it's a someone." George alluded, nodding like he knew all. "Ludo Bagman maybe? No that isn't it, you would have said all your inner monologue out loud. And it's not Angelina, so don't even mention it. But it might be someone else… someone I know quite well…"
"Oh. That." Fred said, without feeling, in a monotone. "Pull your mind out of the gutter George; I am not obsessing over a girl. No, I'm just trying to think of a way to get Bagman without getting caught out."
Shrugging, George turned back to the piece of parchment he was scribbling on. "Just admit it, you've fallen for her."
"Fallen for who?" Fred asked tartly, doing his best Professor McGonagall expression. "Pigwidgeon?"
"Oh, don't tell me you don't know her, you have a permanently glazed look in your eyes whenever she walks into the room. Not to mention you basically obsessively stalk her when you bribe one of the Prefects to show you the patrol list. No, you have no idea who she is…"
Fred was gripped with a sudden sort of panic. "I have a permanently glazed look in my eyes when I see her? You have got to be kidding me. No, I can't be that obvious."
Nodding knowingly, George smiled. "I think you like her. No, actually, I think I'm going to go one up on that and say that I think you fancy her."
It hit Fred like their father's car had once hit the Whomping Willow. In other words, very hard and very fast. Now he really was in the deep end. Never in all of his sixteen and a bit years of life had something hit him like this. If it was a physical object he'd have a very nasty bruise on the side of his head. This couldn't be happening. He'd flirt with her yes, like he did with every girl this side of Mexico (excluding those in Slytherin of course) but he couldn't actually, properly like her. It was only early December that those all-important words had been spoken, and it was only Christmas that he had apologised. He'd felt something for her then, but he had dismissed it as just a friendly feeling, nothing more. And now he wanted more than just friendship.
"Oh Godric." He swore, flopping backwards on his armchair and staring up at the ceiling. "I fancy Selene Malfoy."
Those words made it sound final, like he couldn't move on from her now, he couldn't pretend that they were, and would remain, friends. Because every time he even looked at her, he would feel a pang of longing. He'd have to watch as she dated, got married, have kids… And now he was worrying over something that probably wouldn't happen for years. And he wasn't the kind of person to let someone go after realising something as momentous as that.
"I told you!" George exclaimed triumphantly. "And I knew it! This means we don't have to just focus on Bagman and his cheating arse, we can concentrate on setting you up with a certain girl whose initials are SM."
Selene's P.O.V.
It's going to be okay.
It has to be okay, it must be okay. I don't want to be here, I can't be here without me breaking down in helpless tears. The way the people look at me as I walk through the halls of the Ministry, clutching my mother's clammy hand, it makes me feel so helpless, so beyond help, it makes me want to curl up into a ball and wait for it to be over.
Because I cannot face this. I have never been courageous, even a little bit brave. I can't meet anyone's eyes. If I do, then it will feel like everything I know is lost. I will never see my father again.
Draco is too young to understand, and my parents too busy to care. So, in affect, I am alone. At least, I think, at least Draco does not have to witness this. He is far away, far away. He is free from this. Maybe if my parents were merciful, they would take this memory from me, delete it.
"Mrs Malfoy." Someone says sternly, without pity and without anger. It's monotonous, final. Two ways. I pray for one, but my heart says I must resign myself to the other. "I understand you have brought the witness?"
"That is correct." My mother nods to me, barely. "My eldest. I understand you need my wand?"
"Twelve inches… oak… phoenix feather. I will be holding onto this. You will be returned it naturally, but it remains to be seen if your husband returns to wherever you disgusting Death Eaters live." The someone sneers, and I clutch Mother's hand ever more tightly, squeezing my eyes tight shut.
It is times like this when I have never loved my mother more. She holds her head up high, she refuses to back down. Her voice is cordial, not polite. "That will do, I think." And with a gentle tug on my hand, we walk again.
This hall is black, reflective and it has the barest décor I have seen, possibly ever. It is simply a black marble hall, with un-effective lights dimly brightening it. Draco will not remember this walk, this trial, my father having to plead for a chance at watching us grow up. He is only twenty-seven, my mother twenty-six. This is no trial, this is a curse. There is no way I can have my father back after this.
I know more than they know. I know what my father stands accused of. I know who he has killed. And I know that, ultimately, he is wrong. I stood and watched while one of my father's greatest friends and he massacred people who were fighting for their life, the same as they were, so I cannot condone their actions. But Mother has taught me how to push past that, how to pretend that I am normal, that inside I am not screaming and crying, I am not wishing that I had a normal family. That my parents will always love me, even after what I know I must do.
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you stand accused of murdering and torturing Muggles, Muggle-borns and those who attempted to prevent you from doing so. You are accused of fighting alongside He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to rid the world of Muggles. How do you plead?"
"Not guilty." My father's voice is strong, and the rehearsed speech plays in my mind. He was Imperiused, as was my mother. He was forced into service. He was not thinking for himself. He was not acting consciously. My mother was not acting of her own accord.
"Witness for the defence, Miss Selene Malfoy, daughter of the accused." The Minister reads out, and my mother places a gentle but firm hand in the small of my back. This must be new for them, I surely must be the youngest witness to ever grace these halls.
I almost, stop, almost falter, but I keep my head down and I let my long hair hang in my face. I don't want to see them, the cold glares that will be staring down at me when I look up. Even young girls are possibly corruptible in this damaged world. And maybe three is not young for the Ministry. I don't feel young.
"Is it true that your father was in the service of You-Know-Who?" The Minister asks me.
I nod. I can't trust myself to speak. If I do, then I will betray my family's trust, their façade will falter and the truth will be out. Maybe it's best and I can pretend that I did do the right thing. But outside, in my mind, I have been told what I must say. And so I open my mouth.
"He had no choice." I find myself saying. "He had no choice." Like I have no choice now. "He-"My voice falters and I risk a glance at my father. He doesn't smile, but then he never does. He knows, and he nods at me, knowing the words that will come out of my mouth next. "-he was under the Imperius Curse."
My words are high, scared. I am forced to say them. I do not want to, but I must. I want to say how he murdered those brothers in front of me, but I can't. I cannot bring myself to say those words, to choke them out like I so badly want to. It is my fault, I am not brave. I can never be brave.
I am helpless.
Selene's book dropped from her limp grasp and landed with a crash on the floor. Hastily flushing red, Selene murmured an apology and retrieved it, determinedly avoiding the curious gazes of her friends. She hadn't told anyone, not even Cho, about the worse memories. The ones where she felt detached, helpless. Aloof, cold. Too old to be a three year old. To young to be sixteen, almost seventeen.
That didn't matter now. Voldemort was dead and gone. For a long time. There was no way that mattered now. Father was free and out of Azkaban.
And now she had a book to read and someone to think about. Opening the book to the slightly crumpled page she had been skim-reading, Selene traced one of the faded words, wondering how her life had changed on such a very short space of time. If you had told her this time last year that she would have a friend who completely understood her, had created a strange kind of allegiance with Harry Potter of all people and was freaking out over Fred Weasley, then she would have raised an eyebrow and directed them to the Medical Wing. But, all in all, life wasn't that different.
After all, she had bigger things to think about. The Second Triwizard task, for one. Fleur, although she seemed aloof and above everyone at the best of times, was not confident with her magical ability and often needed support as well as physical help. And tonight, the night before the task, would be the hardest for her.
"Excuse me?" Professor Flitwick spoke and Selene looked up from her book, sharing a curious glance with Cho. This was unexpected; normally by this time Flitwick was marking essays or whatever he chose to do in the evenings. "Can I please speak to Miss Chang?"
Cho shrugged at Selene, but obediently walked over to where the tiny Professor Flitwick stood in the corner of the common room. No one thought very much of this, and went back to their homework and other activities.
Sending an encouraging glance back at her friend, Cho left the room with the Head of Ravenclaw and disappeared from sight. Selene stared after where she had vanished for some time, pondering a question in her mind. Why Cho? Cho had never had a detention, and had actually been the favourite for Ravenclaw prefect before Flitwick chose Selene. And even now, no one was completely sure why he chose Selene over Cho. But why now, of all times if he needed to talk to her? Of all times…
Something clicked in the back of her mind and she sprang up, leaving the book on the chair. She had to warn Fleur.
Ha ha ha ha! As much as I hate cliff-hangers, they are fun to write.
And let me tell you, what will appear next chapter is unexpected. I'm sorry I made things move so fast, but I needed to for the plot.
I will see you soon!
Eleanor xxx
P.S. My friend Vivian has recently joined Fanfiction, she's called The soulless ones. Check her out, but don't be perturbed by her freaky bio!