A/N: Hello all! I just spent ages dealing with formatting issues again, but I finally fixed it!
Quick recap: Last chapter Bethany met Voldemort and got to know him better, Ron and Hermione haven't been owling Bethany and Harry, Bethany and Draco got into a fight, and Bethany learned more about her mother's family.
This chapter contains several quotes from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix!
Momento Mori
Chapter Twenty Four: The Persued, the Persuing, the Busy, and the Tired
Bethany,
I'm with Ron and Hermione now. I can't tell you where we are or what we are doing, but I promise I will tell you the moment I see you on the Hogwarts Express.
Love, Harry
With a frustrated, muffled yell, Bethany crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it at her wall. So that was it? After nearly an entire summer of being kept in the dark, Harry was shutting her out as well? When she was on the brink of losing her sanity in this godforsaken Manor?
She collapsed onto her bed, silently fuming. It was unfair. Why was she left out of the secret? She couldn't believe that Harry had...had betrayed her like this. Bethany buried her face in her hands, hoping there was some way she could disappear.
She had never felt this isolated before in her life— not even at the orphanage. That was partly a self imposed exile; besides, it wasn't as if she knew what it was like to have friends. But now, having known the warmth that came with companionship, the sting of being shoved aside and being left out felt like a dagger to the side.
She flopped down on her bed, closing her eyes. She wished that the floor with swallow her whole and take her away from this... this life. Things had been tense since her and Draco; gone were lengthy conversations and instead they were made awkward small talk at the dinner table.
Her lips trembled as she did her best to keep the tears from falling. Now Harry wasn't talking to her anymore, either. One of her only friends in the world had blown her off, now that he was part of the secret Ron and Hermione had been keeping all summer long.
Bethany missed the bustle of Hogwarts. She missed her chair in the library. She missed sipping on pumpkin juice. She missed the way the lake looked early in the morning with mist hovering above the waves.
She missed Fred Weasley.
He had been in the back of her mind for months now; the pleasant thought that she took out before she went to sleep and tucked away in the stressful hours of the day. She thought about what it would be like, if he were sitting there beside her. She imagined he would probably come up with some ridiculous albeit hilarious nickname for her father that would send her into peals of laughter.
Of course, all this was hypothetical. Fred probably fancied Angelina— and besides, Lucius and/or her father would lose their minds over the mere thought of a Weasley being in the Manor. But regardless, it was the happiest moments of her day when she could imagine him there beside her.
Something told her that this would be the year. The year that Fred might wake up and realize that she was somebody he fancied. He'd ask her out; it would be straightforward and maybe not as romantic as it was in the films, but it would be Fred so she would accept happily. They would spend Saturdays in Hogsmeade together, sipping cups of Butterbeer as their feet knocked together underneath the table. And then, as he dropped her off in front to the Ravenclaw Tower, he would lean in and kiss her. Sometimes she envisioned it being short and quick, but satisfying nonetheless. Other times, she longed for something slow and lingering. His hand would rest on her cheek while her hands came to thread their way into his hair and it would be perfect.
But she knew that she wasn't confident enough to undertake the task of letting him know she was interested. Her attempts at flirting were lamentable at best and often mortifying. It was all up to him, she decided, to approach the subject— that is, if it ever came up.
Thinking of Fred put her in brighter spirits. Something about the mere thought of him made her smile. She wiped away the tears that had been attempting to form in the corner of her eyes and rose to her feet.
She walked to other side of the room to kneel down and pick up Harry's letter. Now that the anger had subsided, she smoothed out the parchment, holding it close to herself. Harry must know how she was feeling; if he could have told her where they were, he would have by now. It wasn't his fault... but it probably was someone else's.
But whom?
A few days later, as Bethany, Draco, and Narcissa were gathered for lunch of cucumber sandwiches, two owls swooped in through the open windows, one settling by Bethany and the other by Draco. "What on Earth could it be?" Narcissa queried as Bethany accepted a small parcel from the owl.
Dear Miss Riddle,
I am pleased to inform you, after much deliberation, that you have been selected as a prefect for Ravenclaw. You are required to attend a short meeting on the Hogwarts Express to receive a timetable for your patrol duties. Enclosed is your badge, which you shall wear on your robes at all times. Further instructions will be given to you by this year's Head Boy and Head Girl, Ewan Donnelley and Crystin Llewelyn. You will patrol the train afterwards at your leisure and deduct points from any rule breakers.
I offer you my sincerest congratulations. I know you shall make Ravenclaw proud.
Sincerely,
Professor Filius Flitwick
Bethany stared at the letter in awe. She was a prefect. A prefect. It seemed too good to be true. She searched inside the envelope, procuring the badge. A large P was engraved on the blue and bronze badge, accompanied by the Ravenclaw eagle.
"Is that— it is!" Narcissa's voice was shriller than Bethany had ever heard it. She opened her mouth to say something, only to realize her outburst was because Draco was holding his own badge in the palm of his hand. "A prefect! Oh, my darling boy!" She stood up and ran to the other side of the table, hugging him tightly as he protested.
"And Bethany!" She beamed, spying the badge in her hands. "You've got one, too! How wonderful!" She fluttered to the other side of the table, eyes bright as she pulled Bethany into a side hug. Bethany did not reciprocate the gesture, feeling stiff as a statue as she stared at her badge, still stunned. "Two prefects! This is cause for celebration! I'll take the two of you to Diagon Alley today, and you can buy yourselves whatever you like!"
And so that was how Bethany found herself in Quidditch Quality Supplies, slouched over on a bench as Draco perused the aisles for Quidditch gear. Narcissa was following behind him, asking questions and tittering excitedly every time she remembered that he was prefect... which was at least every two minutes.
Bethany's gaze fell to the hardwood floors. After the initial excitement had faded, she felt strangely empty and discontent. She had no idea why— after all, she had wanted to be a prefect for years now. There was little voice inside her head, a cruel, spiteful voice feeding doubt after doubt. What if the only reason Dumbledore had allowed her to have the position was so that she could be a spy for him or something? Or maybe he really did suspect she was secretly evil... She just wished she could know if she had earned it herself or if this all had to do with her stupid father.
The bell on the door jingled, signaling that another customer had entered the shop. Her eyes glanced over to the door where she saw, much to her surprised, Mrs. Weasley. She was carrying a stack on books under her arms, wrapped in brown packaging. What was Mrs. Weasley doing here?
It wasn't until the woman turned around that she let out a noise of surprise. "Bethany! Oh, it's been ages since I've seen you, dear!" She smiled as she pulled Bethany into a warm, motherly embrace. "How have you been?" She asked sympathetically.
"All right," she lied. Public places weren't the best place to discuss her father. "And how have you been, Mrs. Weasley?"
"Oh, we've been having an eventful summer," she said, unknowing of the jealous coiling within Bethany. "We just found out that Ron is a prefect!"
Ron? Prefect? For some reason, Bethany had assumed Harry would be the prefect for Gryffindor. But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made; Ron wasn't nearly as prone to trouble as Harry was but he had proven over the years that he had all the traits Gryffindors admired. He was deserving of the position, through and through. However, her pride for him waned exponentially when she thought about how he hadn't bothered to send her an owl and tell him herself, ignoring the little voice in her head that point out she had yet to do the same. Still, she forced a smile and said, "Well, tell him I said congratulations! I'm a prefect as well, so I'll see him at the meeting on the train!"
Mrs. Weasley pulled her into another hug, congratulating her as she did so. "Hermione's one too, but that's no surprise!"
Bethany felt a second pang of bitterness but suppressed it. "She's brilliant," she said hollowly, unable to muster enough enthusiasm to make it seem genuine. "They'd be mad not to pick her."
Mrs. Weasley beamed. "She's going places, that's for sure. Mark my words, she'll be Head Girl— or maybe even Minister of Magic!" She lowered her voice as she said, "I do hope that Ron'll give her a chance. She's such a sweet girl. Don't tell him, but I think she'd be good for him."
Bethany's mind went back to their throw down at the Yule Ball. There was no doubt in her mind that Ron fancied Hermione as much as she fancied him. If only the two idiots would just say something to each other... "I think she would be, too," she said, feeling more sincere this time.
Mrs. Weasley grinned. "I'm glad to know someone else understands," she said proudly. "Arthur thinks I'm seeing things. Well," she placed a hand on Bethany's arm, "I've got to buy Ronnie's new broomstick. A Cleansweep," she added, not that Bethany understood the significance of it. She was hardly Quidditch savvy. "He wants a new broom so badly. I think he's planning on trying out for the team this year! Anyway, it was nice to see you, dear."
"It was nice to see you too, Mrs. Weasley. Tell Ron and everybody that I said hi," she added.
"Of course I will!" With that, Mrs. Weasley walked away, wandering towards one of the store employees... probably to find where Ron's new Cleansweep would be...
"What," Narcissa's voice was suddenly in her ear, "was that woman doing here?" Her bright red lips were pulled into a grimace, eying Mrs. Weasley as if she were a soggy worm on the pavement. Draco was at her side, giving Mrs. Weasley an identical, loathing glare.
"My friend Ron is a prefect now, too," Bethany said. "She's buying him a new broomstick."
"Weasley?" Draco was incredulous. "Don't tell me he's a prefect?"
"I just said he was, didn't I?" Bethany said with a grimace.
He smirked. "I thought for sure that Dumbledore would make sure Potter has the position. He's the favorite, after all."
Bethany scowled at him, but refused to deign him a response. "Narcissa," she said, ignoring him, "can we go to Flourish and Blotts now?" Her patience was wearing thin.
Narcissa glanced over at Draco. "I suppose so," she said. "You are done now, aren't you, Draco? Besides, you'll need to pick up your books for school."
Draco groaned loudly but followed Narcissa to the cash register. Bethany paid no attention to them, instead watching as Mrs. Weasley held Ron's Cleansweep in both hands, frowning. Bethany wondered how much the broom cost— she knew the Weasleys didn't have much money...
As they walked towards Flourish and Blotts, Draco made some attempts to speak to her. "What kind of broom was Weasley getting, anyway? I know his family can't afford a Firebolt, not unless they wanted to starve—"
"It wasn't funny when you made that joke the first time and it's not funny now," she snapped, hands clenching into fists. What the hell was wrong with him? First he essentially said that he was willing to join her father, ignore her for weeks, and now wanted to act as if nothing was wrong by belittling her closest friends? He had a lot of nerve.
"Why does he need a broom, anyway? Is he trying out for Gryffindor's team?"
"It's none of your business," she said coldly.
He frowned. "Why are you in such a bad mood? I thought you'd be happy about being a prefect!"
"I am!" She bit out. "I just wish that—" I wish my life were different, she wanted to say. I wish that my friends would actually tell me what was going on. I wish that I didn't have to find out that Ron and Hermione are prefects from Ron's Mum. I wish that we weren't on the brink of a war. But I wish, more than anything, that I wasn't his daughter. Realizing that she couldn't say any of this aloud, she said, "Never mind."
Much to her disappointment, the fun didn't end there. As soon Lucius arrived home from the Ministry, Narcissa saw it fit to inform him of the good news. After giving them his congratulations, Lucius stole away to his office. Bethany thought nothing of it at the time.
However, when she arrived to dinner and saw her Father seated in Lucius's normal spot, she knew what he had done. Indignation filled her at once. Why, in the name of all that was holy, did he have to be here? This was slowly turning into one of the worst days of her life...and somehow she suspected Hogwarts wouldn't be much better.
"Congratulations, Bethany," Father said as Narcissa directed her towards the chair closest to him. "I trust you will make me proud."
Bethany said nothing, staring down at her empty plate. Considering his idea of being a good prefect entailed setting giant snakes loose in the castle, it was unlikely she would meet his standards. "I understand Draco is a prefect as well," Father said, and thus Bethany tuned the conversation out.
When the meal was finished, the Malfoys stood up to leave. Bethany, half in a daze, began to follow suit until Father said, "I would appreciate it if you would stay here, Bethany. After all, I won't see you again until the Christmas holidays."
Bethany froze in place. "Oh. Okay." She sat back down as the Malfoys walked out of the dining room, oblivious to the fact Draco was craning his head around.
When the door closed, the dining room was silent. Bethany's hands sat folded in her lap, though her leg bounced up and down, belying her anxieties.
"I trust you are excited to be returning to Hogwarts?"
For the first time ever, her immediate thought wasn't Yes. It was hard to feel excited about school when your friends weren't talking to you. But nevertheless, she lied and said, "I'm always happy to return to Hogwarts."
Father nodded. "I felt the same way each summer. Hogwarts was the first place I felt comfortable to call my home."
Bethany wished he would stop talking. Hogwarts had also been her first real home as well, and she didn't like being reminded of how similar their pasts were. Or, rather, she hated being reminded of anysimilarities between them.
"This is a very important year for you, Bethany," he began, and she recognized that he was about to started his version of a paternal speech. Oh, joy. "For a variety of reasons." He paused before saying, "So I hope you will allow me to impart some fatherly advice."
Bethany said nothing. How could she? He was a homicidal maniac, after all. She prepared herself for the worst.
Father folded his skeletal hands atop the table, his wand nowhere in sight. "I know that last year there were quite a few rumors about you." Bethany did her best to ignore the blush creeping onto her cheeks. "Thankfully, none of them were true. But I must confess, I was very worried nonetheless. I do not think it appropriate for you to be consorting with boys when you should be studying for your upcoming examinations."
Bethany blinked. She had thought he would say something like Stay away from Harry Potter or Kill all the Muggleborns. She definitely hadn't expect him to weigh in on her lamentable love life and his desire that it remain lamentable.
Naturally, as it always seemed to, her mind wandered to Fred. She'd been longing for him to see her as more than Ron's friend for years now. It seemed unfair for him to ask this of her— to sacrifice a possibility of her happiness just so he could set his mind at ease over her OWL results. "But what if I made sure it didn't interfere with my studies?" She inquired.
"I am afraid that it would disappoint me greatly," he said, sounding tense, "to know my daughter was ignoring my express wishes." He narrowed his eyes at her. "You are my daughter, whether you like it or not. And I expect you to act like it. Therefore, if I discover that you have disobeyed me, whomever the young man you have decided to entangle yourself with shall pay the price."
Every fantasy about spending a winter's day in Hogsmeade with Fred was abandoned. She couldn't put him at risk like that... "Oh," she said quietly.
There was a silence as she stared down at the grains of wood on the table. "I know it must seem unfair," Father started, sounding less cold, "but I would hate for you to end up following the same path as your mother."
Bethany's head snapped up. Instead of flaring with anger, she couldn't help but feel the familiar ebbing of sorrow. "Why," she asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper, "do you hate her so much?" Hadn't he loved her at some point? Cherished her? How could he have had a child if he hadn't care about her in some capacity?
"I did not hate Delilah." He stated it as plainly as one would say The sky is blue. "However, I understand how you may have had that impression. The truth is your mother and I ended things on, ah, a bad note."
Bethany frowned. "What do you mean?" Had her mother grown weary of being with a murderer? Had she walked away from him? Had she died shortly thereafter? She had so many questions.
"Your mother was an emotional creature," he said. Bethany couldn't help but think he was speaking about a cute puppy instead of an adult woman. "And unfortunately she was very naïve. She thought life was a fairy tale and that I was her Prince Charming." He scoffed. "But... I must confess, I do not regret my time with her. She was very helpful to my cause in so many ways..."
He trailed off, his mind a million miles away. It was right then her heart softened towards him; he had cared about her mother after all. And maybe— just maybe— he cared about her, too. Maybe there was actually a man beneath the monstrous exterior. Someone who could love... and was capable of some goodness.
"You remind me of her," he confessed, hands flattening against the table's surface. "She was shy, just as you are. Very soft spoken."
Bethany's lips twitched as she held back a smile. Her reticent nature was something struggled with often, but to know her mother was the same way made her feel better about it.
"She made me promise, before you were even born, that I would not any harm fall on you," he uttered. "I may have failed in that promise before, but I do not intend to falter now."
Bethany didn't know whether to be reassured for frightened by this sentiment. Nevertheless, she said, "Thank you," if for nothing else than to fill the silence.
There was another awkward gap before he rose to his feet. "It is getting late," he said. "I must depart. I shall see you over the Christmas holidays. If you want to write me a letter, send it to Lucius and he'll see that it is delivered to me."
Bethany nodded, bidding him farewell before he left Malfoy Manor, Apparating away. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised by this clinical, cool goodbye. He divorced himself away from societal norms unless somebody else was in the room.
She let out a sigh of relief before heading upstairs to pack.
Bethany and Draco awkwardly walked down the hallway in pursuit of the prefect car. Neither of them wishing to go alone and they had wordlessly decided to undertake the adventure together. However, Bethany had no idea what to even begin to say to Draco and they were trapped in a strange, uneasy sort of silence.
Draco was the first to break. "Do you know who the male prefect from Ravenclaw is?"
Bethany, surprised he was willing to speak to her, shook her head. "Do you know the other Slytherin prefect?"
"No."
They were finally standing before the door. Bethany turned her head to look at Draco.
"You first—"
"You can go—"
They broke off, nervously laughing. Bethany ended up being the one to step in first.
The compartment was different from what Bethany had envisioned— and less elaborate than she had hoped for. It was, for all intents and purposes, an ordinary train car, sans the compartments. It was quite small, albeit large enough to seat everyone. The head boy and head girl were already there, whispering to one another. Several older prefects had gathered there as well, and but Hannah Abbot and Eddie Macmillan were the only ones from their year. Unwilling to go talk to them, Bethany and Draco found a seat to rest on.
"We'll have access to the prefect's bathroom this year," Draco remarked suddenly. "That will be nice."
Bethany agreed. "I've heard it's quite relaxing." Harry has claimed it was, at any rate. "Though you may want to be careful," she warned him, "Moaning Myrtle likes to go in there sometimes."
Draco's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Well that sounds awful."
They were silent once more. "I hope Michael Corner isn't the Ravenclaw prefect," Bethany said, desperately trying to fill the silence.
"Yeah," Draco said, without much emotion. "He seems like a prat."
"He doesn't like me."
"Why not?"
"Because of... well, you know." When the look he gave her made it clear that he did not understand, she leaned over and whispered, "My father."
Draco blinked. "Oh. That's a stupid reason."
"Yeah."
"How did he end up in Ravenclaw anyway?" He sneered, his personality finally bleeding through the painfully polite façade. "He doesn't seem terribly bright. Do you remember when he got bit by that plant last year in Herbology? What an idiot."
Bethany laughed. She recalled the incident fondly, even though it occurred long before he had started being nasty towards her. "I don't think he's smart either, but I'm probably just biased. I dislike him just as much as he dislikes me."
Draco scoffed, only to tense up when his eyes fell on the doorway. "Damn," he muttered.
"What?" Bethany asked, but there was no need. Pansy Parkinson was strutting into the car, a prefect badge pinned to her chest. "You've got to be kidding me," she said, just loud enough so Draco could hear her. "Snape couldn't have actually appointed her." Surely her favorite professor couldn't have betrayed her in such a way!
"This is just fantastic," Draco groaned as Pansy finally spotted them both. However, instead of glowering at them (well— instead of glowering at Bethany), she seemed sad. She wandered through the compartment until she found an empty seat.
"Good luck dealing with that this year," Bethany murmured to Draco. Her disdain had yet to fade.
"I'll need it." He glances up at the door again. "Your little friends are here."
Bethany wanted to roll her eyes— who was he? Her father?— but she merely turned to see Ron and Hermione enter. They were deep in conversation but knowing Ron and Hermione, they were bickering. Either way, they looked as if they were enjoying themselves.
Upon seeing Bethany, Ron and Hermione's face mirrored excitement before turning into hesitation once they spotted Draco beside her. Bethany's gaze flickered over to Draco. She didn't want him to go away... not after they had just started speaking to each other again.
"Aren't you going to say hello?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Maybe in a little while," she found herself saying, adjusting herself so she could sit closer to him. "I can sit with them later."
They were silent once more, but it was more companionable than before. Bethany took the opportunity to listen in to other conversations— Ernie was complaining about Justin Finch-Fletchey's younger sister, which was somewhat amusing. Pansy was talking to the sixth year Slytherin prefects, taking time to mournfully glance over to Draco.
"Alright, is everybody here?" Crystin asked, standing in the center of the room. Bethany was about to ask about her fellow prefect when she noticed Anthony Goldstein, who was seated next to Ernie. She felt a pang of sadness— she had hoped Terry might get the position. Out of all Ravenclaw boys, she knew him the best.
Crystin introduced herself and Ewan and thus began a long lecture that consisted mostly of reminding them what constituted as rule breaking. Bethany grew bored halfway through it, leaning back and stretching out her legs. Honestly, did they think they were daft? Anyone with common sense would know that abusing Muggle drugs and roaming the hallways past curfew was an offense.
Finally, once the meeting wound down, Ewan began passing out time tables. "The fifth year Hufflepuffs with have the first patrol once arrive to the castle," said Crystin, speaking loud enough to be heard amongst the chattering. "After that, it's the sixth year Gryffindors. Any questions?"
"I'm ready to leave," Draco mumbled, sitting on the edge of his seat as Ewan approached them. "This is boring."
Bethany agreed, her eyes darting over to Ron and Hermione. A part of her yearned to go over and talk to them but her own anxieties stopped her. What if they didn't actually want to be her friends anymore? What if they had been barely tolerating her? What if there was no secret at all, aside from their growing disdain towards her?
Bethany thanked Ewan as he handed them their time tables. Her first patrol with Anthony began tomorrow at nine o'clock. That wasn't too bad...
"Dammit!" Draco clenched his time table. Bethany leaned over, reading over his times. His first patrol was at eleven o'clock tomorrow night. She winced. Thankfully, her time slots weren't nearly so late.
"Oh, no," she said, giving him a sympathetic look.
"This is rubbish," he muttered. "I'm leaving."
Bethany opened her mouth to stop him before she realized all the other prefects were rising to their feet. "Okay," she said. "I'll see you later then, yeah?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah... see you around." Before Bethany could say anything else he walked away, stalking out of the prefect carriage.
She sighed, finally standing. She supposed she should go speak to Ron and Hermione now. The pair was standing up by their seats, whispering furiously to one another. She could help but they seemed closer than ever before... hopefully romance was on the wing.
When Hermione spotted her, she interrupted whatever Ron was saying to shriek, "Bethany!" and hug her fiercely. Bethany stared at Ron with wide eyes as Hermione's arms did their best impression of a boa constrictor.
"We've missed you!" Ron said emphatically, pulling her into a tight hug of his own (but thankfully one that didn't bruise her ribs).
"Come on, let's find Harry!" Hermione was practically bouncing with excitement.
Bethany shared an amused smile with Ron. Thing felt normal again, as if there had been no separation between them at all. She couldn't help but breathe a mental sigh of relief— her friends didn't secretly hate her after all.
The three of them managed to locate Harry, who was sharing a compartment with Ginny, Neville, and Luna. After exchanging greetings with them all (including a hug from Harry, along with a bar of chocolate— "It's a late birthday present," he explained), Bethany was suddenly aware that there were six seats and seven people inside the compartment. "Maybe I can squeeze in somewhere," she said as the realization dawned on everyone else. After all, that's what they usually did in these scenarios— more often than not, when seating was tight, due to her small size, Bethany found herself wedged in between Ron and Harry.
"Oh, that's alright," Luna said dreamily. Her blonde hair was pulled into a pony tail, allowing everyone to see her infamous radish earrings. "I'll just sit on Neville's lap. Then we'll all have enough room."
Hermione's eyes widened as Luna inched her way onto Neville's lap, oblivious that nearly everyone in the compartment had some sort of opinion on the matter. Neville's face was pink, but he said nothing to stop her. Ron, however, seemed seconds away from laughter.
Bethany sat next to Luna and Neville, somewhat uncomfortable yet not entirely disapproving. Hermione, who was on the opposite side of Bethany, kept shooting Luna nasty looks.
"So," Bethany said, looking across the compartment to look at Harry specifically. "What was it you thr— four," she corrected, remembering Ginny was there as well, "got up to this summer?"
Bethany felt Hermione stiffen beside her. Ron and Harry were exchanging worried glances. "Um," Harry said, awkwardly, looking pointedly at Neville and Luna, who were reading The Quibbler together, appearing quite cozy. "Uh, you see, it's uh..."
"Oh for heaven's sakes," Ginny exclaimed exasperatedly. "Hermione, just whisper it!"
Hermione bit her lip, seeming very worried. Finally, she cupped a hand around Bethany's ear. "We were with the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione said, very quietly. "It's an organization—"
That was it? That was their momentous secret? Irritated, Bethany said, "I know what it is!"
Ron's eyes bugged out of his head. "But how?" Hermione asked, voice shrill.
"Because my—" she stopped, suddenly annoyed by Neville and Luna's presence. She wracked her mind for something only they would get before saying, "Uh, Tom told me."
Bethany didn't miss the way Ginny flinched. "Sorry," she said without a second thought. She should have said something else. Ginny was, no doubt, just traumatized as her by that damnable diary...
"It's fine," Ginny said, but she didn't sound fine. In fact, her skin was taking on a white pallor.
"How does he know?" Harry demanded.
"I don't know," said Bethany, shrugging her shoulders. "He made it sound like it wasn't even a secret."
"He doesn't know where they're at though, right?" Ron spoke up. He was on the edge of his seat, elbows resting on his legs as he leaned forward.
"I don't think so," she replied. "I mean, I think you would know if he did."
The relief was palpable. "We're really sorry we couldn't tell you," said Hermione genuinely. "Harry was really angry with us for hiding it from him—"
"Don't deny it," Ron said as Harry opened his mouth. "You were furious, mate."
"—and we know you must feel the same," she concluded. "We wanted to tell you, but—"
"It's okay," Bethany said, her previous anger irritation dissipating. Their silence made plenty of sense— especially when she was dining with the Dark Lord at least once a week. If he had intercepted anything... "It would have been stupid for you to send me anything in writing."
Ron and Hermione's tension seemed to disappear as she said it. "I'm so glad you understand," Hermione said, smiling.
Ginny, sensing there was no point continuing the conversation with Luna and Neville in the same compartment, said, "So how was the prefect meeting, Ron?"
Ron launched into telling them who the prefects from the other houses were before saying, "And guess who the Slytherin prefect is?"
"Malfoy?" Harry answered glumly.
"Course," Ron grimaced.
Bethany, uncomfortable, shifted in her seat. It was hard, being stuck in the middle between them. Whenever Draco insulted her friends, she never hesitated to defend them. But when they expressed their distaste for him? What could she do? Draco was, as much as she hated to admit it, a bully.
"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," Hermione cut in, seeming to sense her discomfort. "How she got be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll—"
At this, Bethany laughed— but surprisingly, Luna laughed even harder. Her magazine fell to the floor as she dissolved into a fit of giggles. "Concussed—" she gasped for air, "—troll!"
Neville, through all of this, was beaming at her as if she were a... a... beautiful Mandrake. Or some sort of magical plant. Bethany couldn't bring herself to think up a better analogy— Herbology continued to be her least favorite subject, but she knew Neville loved plants.
"Can I look at this?" Harry asked, picking up Luna's copy of The Quibbler after she had calmed down.
"Oh, go ahead," said Luna, now more distracted by Neville's hair. She ran her fingers through it, staring down at him adoringly, oblivious to the fact that her feet were now residing on Bethany's lap as she twisted herself around to admire her boyfriend.
Harry paged through it, his surprise evident with each facial expression he made. Bethany was finding a hard time suppressing her laughter. On bad days, Bethany loved borrowing a copy of the magazine from Luna so she could have a good laugh. At first she thought it was satire at first only to be informed by Roger Davies that it was intended to be taken completely seriously.
"Anything good in there?" Ron asked, grinning.
Hermione scoffed. "Of course not. The Quibbler is rubbish, everyone knows that!"
Bethany froze. The entire compartment grew silent. Oh God... Hermione didn't know.
"Excuse me," Luna said, tearing her eyes away from Neville to fix Hermione with an icy glare, "My father is the editor."
Hermione began backpedaling at once. "Oh! I— uh, of course, I mean, it's very interesting—"
"I'll have that back, thank you," said Luna, standing up to snatch the magazine from Harry's hand. "Neville, I'm going to the loo. Please hold onto this for me." She handed it off to him before pressing a kiss to his cheek and leaving the compartment.
Everyone was left in a stunned silence. Finally, Neville, speaking up for nearly the first time since Bethany, Ron, and Hermione entered the compartment, said, "That wasn't very nice, Hermione."
Hermione gaped. "Well, how was I to know her father was the editor? No one told me!"
"It doesn't matter," Neville said sadly. "You know, a lot of people make fun of her for stuff like this." He held up the magazine. "She's really sensitive, even though she doesn't show it."
Hermione, who was properly embarrassed by now, didn't respond, simply staring down at her lap.
"I'm going to go talk to her," Neville continued, rising to his feet. "Just... try and be nice to her. I— I really care about her." He gave them a weak smile before stepping out of the compartment, Quibblerin his hands.
"Poor Neville," Ginny said softly, still looking at the door.
Bethany didn't know what to say. Hermione refused to look at anyone, head bowed. She tried to signal Ron to comfort her, but he seemed to be in a silent conversation with Harry over what just happened.
It was a while before any of them spoke again.
Prefects had to supervise the process of evacuating the train. Bethany found herself standing next to Anthony Goldstein, directing first years to a woman called Professor Grubbly-Plank (who explained, much to Bethany's chagrin, that she was filling in for Hagrid this year) and making sure nobody was breaking any rules. Anthony had said nothing to her thus far, which made the whole situation awkward.
When it seemed everyone had left the train, all the prefects filed out, ready to take their carriages to the school. Bethany was approaching the carriages as Ron disappeared into one, shutting the door. The carriage then rolled up to the castle.
Much to both her relief and displeasure, Draco and Pansy were also approaching the carriages. Like Bethany and Anthony, there seemed to be a distinct air of awkwardness. At least she wasn't the only person not getting on with their partner...
The seventh year Ravenclaw prefects Niall Eaton and Stephanie Fawcett climbed into the carriage. In the heat of the moment, Bethany darted away from Anthony's side to grab Draco by the wrist and all but drag him away from Pansy and into the carriage. Stephanie and Niall gaped at them both, but Bethany couldn't bring herself to care as the carriage pulled away. She didn't even bother wondering what Anthony must be thinking right now, let alone Pansy's reaction it to it all.
"Thanks," Draco finally said, once the shock had worn off.
"You're welcome. I thought you might need an escape. God knows I did."
"What's wrong with Goldstein?"
She shrugged. "He doesn't like me. He hasn't even said a single word to me. There's no way I wanted to be trapped in a carriage with him."
They chatted the rest of the way to the castle, ignoring the looks they were receiving from Stephanie and Niall. Draco complained about the way Pansy had been trying to get his attention whilst Bethany gave him an abridged version of the dispute between Luna and Hermione. "It was so uncomfortable," she finished as they climbed out of the carriage and towards the castle. "They wouldn't even look at each other when Luna came back."
Draco, meanwhile, seemed to be a couple steps behind. "So Longbottom really told Granger off?"
Bethany nodded. "Yeah. And he even managed to do it the 'I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed' kind of way." She shuddered.
Draco let out a bark of laughter. "Merlin, I wish I could have been there! That's real entertainment! I had to sit and listen to Goyle talk about his Crup's hemorrhoids."
"What?" Bethany covered her mouth, trying to stop herself from giggling.
"He wouldn't stop talking about it! It was driving me mad!"
By the time they arrived to the Great Hall, the rest of the students were waiting for the first years to come in for their sorting. Bethany said goodbye to Draco and sought out Padma and Terry.
After saying their hellos, Padma let out a gasp. "You're a prefect! Congratulations! I was wondering if it would be you!"
"Thanks," Bethany said, feeling a bit shy.
Padma craned her head. "Where's Anthony? Isn't he with you?"
"I kind of ditched him," she admitted, suddenly feeling shame. Sure, Anthony wasn't exactly being the most friendly... but then again, it seemed rude to just leave him...
"Why?" Terry asked, whilst Padma let out a laugh.
"Uh... well, he didn't seem to want to talk to me. So he didn't. At all."
Terry frowned, pressing his lips together. "I'll talk to him about it," he said, quite determined. "Don't worry about him. He's just... just don't worry."
Bethany cracked a smile. "Thank you for sending me that family tree, by the way," she said genuinely. "I really appreciated it."
Terry beamed. "It's no problem— if you'd like, I can help you find more information about the Shafiqs this year. We might be able to find some Riddle stuff, too—"
"Oh, that's fine," Bethany interrupted. If they delved too deeply into the Riddle family history, Terry would find himself staring at the indisputable knowledge that Bethany really was Voldemort's daughter. And who knows what kind of sinister secrets he was hiding about his own past? There were probably accounts of her father that were too horrific for her to even begin imagining. "I know a little bit about my dad already—" Like the fact he looks like a snake and hates green beans. "My mum's side is pretty much unknown."
Terry nodded. "Okay," he agreed, and before he could say anything else, the first years filed into the Great Hall, drinking in the sights and whispering excitedly to one another.
The Sorting Hat sang an ominous song, but Bethany tried not to think about it to much. After all, it was just a hat. There's no way a hat could predict the future... right?
"Abercrombie, Euan!" Professor McGonagall called out, and a small boy with large ears walked up to the stool. He was sorted into Gryffindor quickly.
"Boot, Sarah!"
"That's my little cousin," Terry said, grinning from ear to ear as a blonde girl walked to the front of the Great Hall. "She'll be in Ravenclaw, I'm sure of it."
He was right. Sarah hopped off the stool, scanning the table until she spotted Terry and sat next to him. Terry introduced her to Bethany and Padma as "Bosworth, Kyle!" was sorted into Gryffindor.
The rest of the Sorting seemed to fly by and before Bethany knew it, she was dining on a scrumptious feast of potatoes and chicken.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," Dumbledore began immediate after the feast concluded. He proceeded to remind students to not venture into the Forbidden Forest or to use magic in the hallways— both of which were routine warnings given at the beginning of each school year. However, his third point of business was more interesting. "We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."
Bethany suddenly noticed a short woman, dressed from head to toe in a garish shade of pink. "Oh, no," Bethany heard Padma mutter as the rest of the hall gave the professors and perfunctory clap. "Not her."
"What do you mean?" She asked, brow furrowed.
Padma cast a dark look on the woman. "My dad works at the Ministry and he says she is awful."
Bethany frowned. That wasn't comforting.
Dumbledore went to resume his speech. "Quidditch tryouts will be—"
" Hem hem ."
Professor Umbridge has risen to her feet. The other professors exchanged dubious looks, clearly disapproving her actions— none of them looking so taken aback than Professor Snape, who was looking at Professor Umbridge as if she were a bug he had smashed with his shoe. Dumbledore, however, seemed to take the interruption with ease and sat down as Professor Umbridge began her own speech.
"Thank you, Professor, for your kind words of welcome." Her voice was oddly saccharine. "Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!"
Bethany glanced over to Terry, who looked as perturbed as she felt. Did she think they were five years old? This felt like the first day of primary school, not first year!
"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!"
"I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to wear that ugly cardigan," Padma whispered, just loud enough for Bethany and Terry to hear and subsequently try not to laugh at.
Any sweetness in Professor Umbridge's voice seemed to vanish as she launched into the next part of her speech. "The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them for ever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Here, she decided to turn around and bow to her fellow professors, all of whom seemed bemused by this odd display. However, she was undeterred and carried on. "Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation, between purebloods and Muggleborns—"
Bethany started at this. Why was she bringing up blood status? Uneasy, her eyes roved the hall to see if anyone else was disturbed by this, but most everyone seemed to have tuned her out.
"—Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."
Dumbledore began the round of applause, followed by the other faculty members, who seemed less enthusiastic.
Once the feast properly ended, Bethany was tasked with directing the first years to the Common Room with Anthony. He managed to take the lead, parroting a speech similar to the one they had heard as first years whilst Bethany made sure none of the first years wandered off.
Upon arriving to the Common Room, Bethany discovered that many of the older students had huddled around. Bethany noticed Roger Davies was in the middle of this gathering. "What's this?" Bethany asked Terry quietly as she approached the group.
"We're talking about Umbridge's speech," he replied, lips twisted into a frown. "Well, rather, we're debating it. Some think it's fine that the Ministry is stepping into Hogwarts, but most of us don't like it."
"Well, why shouldn't they oversee what's going on here?" Lilith Fenwick-Phillips, a sixth year, asked, pouting as she did so. "In the Muggle world, the government regulates what goes on in schools. I don't see the difference."
"But we're wizards, not Muggles!" Roland Riggs exclaimed.
"So? Muggles have plenty of good ideas!" Lilith retorted, crossing her arms.
"Nobody is saying they don't!" Roger said, clearly attempting to pacify her. "It's just that a lot of us know that Umbridge is— well, she's downright nasty. Bigoted, too, even though she tries to hide it. Just... be wary of her, that's all."
Bethany frowned. All this commotion and chaos surrounding Umbridge was making her head spin. "I think I'm going to bed," she told Terry. "See you tomorrow."
"Night, Bethany," Terry said distractedly, still concentrated on the debate at hand.
As Bethany tucked herself into bed, she couldn't help but think that this year at Hogwarts might be the worst yet.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, especially the part with Luna! I hope you all enjoyed!