Author's note: A thought just struck me whilst I was waiting for this to load. I spend most of my waking hours thinking about people who don't exist. I take my fiction pretty seriously, (apparently that's because I'm a strange child?) and to me, the characters are real. But really, if you looked up their address, they wouldn't exist, would they? Only on the pages of books. Does that mean, half of the time, my thoughts don't exist either, because they're concentrated on things that don't physically exist?
Just a thought, felt like sharing.
I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear. ~Nelson Mandela
The one thing I do not like about Hogwarts: it is impossible to avoid anyone. And the confrontations you dread will always come to dread, ready or not...
It's the thing I like best about Hogwarts, too... The tight knit community. Most of my housemates felt more like teasing brothers and sisters than fellow pupils. They could be infuriating, and they could be sweet, but they were all my friends.
I knew every one of their faces, knew what made them tick, talked with them and laughed with them so often it became almost routine.
Perhaps it wasn't the same for everyone who passed through Hogwarts double doors. But there was no Gryffindor, in my year at the very least, whom I didn't know well and like...
Everyone knew everyone. That was just the way it was. And new first years had to be welcomed, had to be introduced to everyone, had to become part of the house system. Sooner or later, you would end up getting to know them, putting a face to a name at the very least.
"Morning." Harry greeted me. We were friendly at the very least, since two weeks ago, when we had first met properly at Hagrid's hut. He was a sweet kid- Lily, through and through. But there was a mischievous glint in his eye that reminded me irresistably of James...
"Morning." I replied, smiling and buttering my toast. That was when I spotted who was behind him. And the colour drained from both of our faces.
"Adele?" Harry asked anxiously.
"Is she going to faint?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes at me. Neville gulped and swayed, keeping his eyes locked on mine. I felt one of the twins touch my arm.
"I don't know." Harry grimaced, sounding panicked. I took a deep breath and turned back to my toast, my fingers trembling.
"I'm not going to faint." I managed to get out.
"You sure you're alright?" George asked, worry colouring his tone. I met his eyes.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I budged up to let Harry and Ron sit down. I nudged Harry. If I couldn't make light of the incident, and the looks in their eyes told me I couldn't, then I would at least distract them. Trying not to look at Neville Longbottom, still stood there as still as a statue (as if he had been frozen into place by Medusa herself, pure terror coursing through his veins.), I struck up a conversation.
"I hear congratulations are in order." I told him. He looked back at me, bemused. "Fred and George told me you made the Quiddich team, youngest seeker in a century."
"Oh." He said, swallowing his toast as if it had suddenly become rather solid. "Yeah."
"Well done." I grinned. "That's amazing Harry, really. Did you know your dad used to play seeker?"
"Yeah. Hermione Granger told me." He looked terrified at the mere thought. "Do you play?"
"Sometimes. I didn't do too badly in the flying lessons, but honestly, I'm not amazing. Nothing like you, from what I've heard."
Neville gave a whimper. We all turned to look at him, but thankfully it was taken to be a frightened sound at the prospect of flying lessons.
"Neville, ah, didn't have a great first experience on a broom." Ron told me, looking like he was trying not to laugh.
"Oh." I said, giving a gasp of comprehension. I tried to smile at him, but it felt like pushing the muscles in my face through drying cement. My facial muscles just refused to work, every pore in my body screaming at me, making me painfully aware of who this boy was...
"Don't worry about it." I told him, working hard to look him in the eye. "Lots of people in our year had awful first experiences on a broom. Isn't that right, George?"
George turned around, grinning, still laughing at some joke. "What? I'm Fred, by the way."
I rolled my eyes. "Don't try that one on me." I was rapidly regaining an outwardly normal stance. Inside, I was spinning completely out of control, my heart beating unnaturally fast, my head spinning, making me want to vomit. "I know you're George. Just answer the question."
"Oh, yeah. Bryony slid right off the end, fell 50 ft and nearly broke her neck. I wouldn't worry about it, Neville. There have been some much more spectacular falls than yours, let me tell you."
Neville tried to smile, with even less success than me, and slid into place beside Ron.
"So, what's all this about you lot duelling my cousin, as well?" I asked, grinning. Harry and Ron laughed.
"Malfoy set us up. Never showed up, sent Filch on our tail, hoping to get us expelled I think."
I glowered across the Great Hall. Ever since coming to Hogwarts, I had felt it. The pending estrangement between Draco and I. It wasn't me ignoring him anymore. He barely even nodded at me in the corridor, so concerned he was with the upkeep of his image, and with ensuring he had no ties with Gryffindors that could leave him vulnerable.
Whether this summer or the next or the one after that, I knew I tethered on a knife's edge. There was no way I could evade disownment forever, that much was certain... I was surprised how calmly I took the knowledge, and with how much assurance I was able to state the fact.
The fact of the matter was, I was following in the footsteps of Sirius Black, of Andromeda Tonks, of Cedrella Weasley. I didn't fit in in this family. It wasn't where I belonged... I liked to think of my birth as a kind of anomaly, an accident. I wasn't meant to fit in.
When I looked at it like that, it was easier to bare, to look at the facts objectively, to see the truth clearly.
I didn't fit in in the Black family tree. So I didn't try... I sought to mark myself out, to make a show of being different. And if I was going to be blasted off the family tree, by god, I was going to be blasted off with a bang.
And maybe, just maybe, that bang could shake the foundations of this family. Let a chink of light illuminate a tiny little block of the darkness. Change my aunt and cousin, at the very least... Maybe that was all that change really required.
Everything had to start somewhere. Why couldn't this family change for the better? And if so, why couldn't that start with me? The anomaly, this misfit, the freak... The one that could change the Black family tree.
They were deluded dreams indeed, and I knew it. But I clung to them with all I had, not only because they were the only hope for redemption this stupid family had, but because they were the only hope for me.
Still, there were times even that ludicrous dream could be shaken out of my grip, leaving pure and undiluted rage in it's wake.
It was a light evening, and my bag felt heavier than usual. The reason for that was simple- I was carrying 6 really heavy books. After sitting all evening, listening to Fred and George joke and laugh and just be loud, I was craving the peace and quiet of the library. So, under the pretext of wanting to study for an upcoming Potions test, I slipped out of the common room and into the haven of those seeking silence.
That was when the commotion reached my ears.
"Been looking for someone to practise that on, Longbottom. Oh, oh, oh. What're you going to do? Go running to your mummy? How'd a crying lump of baby like you get into Gryffindor anyways? You're the most pathetic, cowardly thing I've ever seen!"
"That is enough!" I shouted, running around the corner and blasting Draco aside. I don't know what I looked like, but it was enough to make my cousin recoil. Neville gave a whimper, and looked more terrified than ever. Anger coursed through my veins, and I advanced on my cousin.
"How dare you! How very dare you! Is that what you do, Draco? Just go around cursing people? Is there a purpose, or just for the hell of it? You're an arrogant, bullying, narrow minded idiot. You're not good enough to wipe the dirt off Neville's shoes, and yet you just prance around, acting all superior and generally being a prat? I practically raised you, Draco Vladimir Malfoy! Whenever your mother was too busy attending balls or arranging another meeting of 'pureblood ladies today', who else was there to wipe the snot off your nose? I was barely two years older than you, and yet I told you everything I knew. I tried to teach you how to be a decent human being, and then I find out you're tricking people into being expelled, hiding things in trees and cursing whoever happens to stumble into your path? You think your cool, think your invincible, protected by your mummy and daddy and their ill-gotten power and wealth and greed and ambition and blood status? You disgust me."
Draco just gulped.
"You've become everything I hoped you would never be." I whispered, looking at my fingers. "Just- get out of my sight. Now. I can't even look at you right now."
It came without warning, his fist. One moment he was cowering before me, the next he was swinging his curled hand, and smashing it into my jaw.
Just like his father.
I looked at him a moment, and saw my own shock echoed in his eyes. Only a moment. And then my own slap left a stinging blow across his face.
"You're making the wrong choices!" He screamed at me, clutching his cheek. "Wait until-"
"Until what, Draco?" I laughed mirthlessly. I had forgotten Neville on the floor, forgotten what initiated all this... The only thing I knew was the hate coursing through my veins. "Until you tell your father? By all means, tell someone I can't hit back. That's the big secret, isn't it? How I really got this bruise on my cheek. I can see it all so clearly now! But I am not the only one treading a dark path. And when the time comes, remember me. Remember that I loved you for you, without condition. Remember that I saw right and wrong, and that the wrong birth will never be an excuse. It will just be a downfall."
With one last glare, Draco went back down the corridor, a vibrant red slap mark still visible on his cheek. I scowled at his retreating back a few moments, before I remember the spark to the confrontation in the first place.
I bent down next to Neville, and made an effort to speak gently, knowing how much he despised me.
"Are you alright?"
"Your cheek." He stammered.
It hurt like hell, but I ignored it, shrugging as if it couldn't possibly matter. But it did. It really, really did... The intention behind it would continue to twist inside of me like some sort of diseased thing long after the mark from the blow had faded.
"This looks like a leglocker curse." I whispered. I pulled out my wand. The way he flinched away from the tip was not missed. I sighed.
"Why did you help me?" He asked suddenly, his eyes wide.
"I would've done it for anyone, to be honest. But I helped you because you're a good kid, who shouldn't believe a word my slimeball of a cousin says. You're an amazing person, Neville. You just have to discover how amazing. And because, I suppose," I took a deep breath. "You've been through more than any person should ever have to go through, and how you've managed to deal with it, I don't know. I admire you, Neville Longbottom, more than I can say. The very fact that your sat here is testament to how strong you are, and how wrong Malfoy is. And you deserve so, so much better than this world has given you. I guess you must really hate me, Neville."
He shook his head. "I don't hate you. I hate your parents, but I see that now. You're not them, are you?"
I smiled. "No, I'm not. I'm a freak of nature, and proud of it."
"You should be. And Adele? Thank you."