Chapter Twenty-eight:
Echoes of Envy

Months before it had been thirteen winters which I had lived upon the world, I was brought to Hogwarts as a second year student, for at the time, such transfers were permitted, encouraged–and thus, common. As I patrolled the lengths of corridor before the Ravenclaw tower at seventeen, my thoughts echoed with memories from this time in my life as loudly as my footsteps echoed in the castle after nightfall. For a week, I had been troubled by the words of the Sorting Hat, for when I delved deeply into the catacombs of my mind, I remembered that which it had whispered into my ear when atop my head it was placed. Ominous, it had seemed to me five years prior, yet I had discarded its warnings for more trivial thoughts.

I glanced at the ornate tapestry which obscured the entrance to the Ravenclaw tower, the woven designs upon it curling in the flickering light–whether it appeared as such only because of the torches and candles, I never knew. I traced my fingers along it as I passed; the patterns shrank back at my touch, then approached once more as though with caution. As was expected, the castle was empty, and I had encountered no one for the better portion of an hour. Tom, I knew, was somewhere beneath my feet, pacing the dungeons and searching, just as I did, for disturbances which would not be found.

That night when I performed my duty as Head Girl, I recalled the terror I had felt the moment the Sorting Hat slipped over my head, plunging my vision into darkness. I remembered sitting there for a long while, until at last it began to speak to me.

A transfer, I see, it had said. It was several moments before I realized that I alone could hear its voice at that time.

And intelligence I have seen quite rarely indeed. Yes, it had considered. There is no doubt where you belong. But, I wonder... is this truly where you need to be? Perhaps you shall be safer here. Your future's not been set in stone, you know. Although, I am not one to gamble with destiny...

I stopped, listening, my memory disrupted by the nearly inaudible sound of heavy breathing and bare feet pattering upon the ground. I sighed, then set my lips into a straightened line. I had hoped to slip away as quickly as I could, for the time approached that I was required to return to my dormitory. Yet I could not, as I had discovered a student wandering the school at night.

I pressed on toward the sound, yet as I neared, it began to lessen, then ceased all at once. I frowned, squinting my eyes into slits. That was when I spotted him, huddled inside a shadowed crevice of the wall. He neither moved nor spoke as I approached, as if his stillness would render him invisible beneath my gaze. I slowed my steps into a halt, the toes of my shoes pointing directly at the obscured figure. There was a sharp intake of breath, then the sound of his palm being clapped over his mouth.

"I know you are there." In the silence, my voice reverberated clearly. "It is of no use to hide."

Reluctantly, the boy emerged. He was small; I recognized him as one of the first years I had managed to glimpse during the ceremony of the Sorting. His hair, a lighter blonde than my own, was cropped just beneath his ears, and his eyes were pressed to the floor. Even in the partial darkness, I could discern the inflamed color of his cheeks.

"What business do you have in the castle at this hour?" I inquired. "Surely, you must know that it is against the rules to wander about so late. All the same, I must present you to the Headmaster, who will punish you accordingly." I recited this as if it were a script I had memorized, pausing little between thoughts.

"Please." He spoke for the first time. His voice was soft. "They said they just wanted to be friends." The boy savored this final word upon his tongue before continuing helplessly, "I didn't know... I didn't..."

His voice cracked, and he rubbed his eyes furiously to rid them of his tears. I was suddenly struck with pity for this boy, a display of despair. In a way, I was reminded of myself, for he clearly had been the brunt of a tasteless joke. My eyes softened.

"Just this once, perhaps," I murmured, then dismissed him. "See to it that you are not caught, for the others will not be so kind."

He sniffed into the sleeve of his robe, then fled.

-

I rose early the following morning in order to meet Tom before breakfast. It was a routine that we had begun that year, and I was glad for it, as we could both easily slip away before our House-mates awoke. Yet as I neared the library, I discovered that it and the surrounding corridor were void of any occupation. Puzzling this was, for never was he late, nor was I early.

I stood against the wall for several minutes, waiting in hopes that he had been but delayed. However, it was nigh a quarter of an hour past when I had arrived that I at last progressed toe the Great Hall, my stomach knotted in apprehension.

To my dismay, I found him seated near the head of the Slytherin table, immersed in a quiet discussion with several students I had no recollection of seeing ever before. There was a heavily built boy, whose broad shoulders were hunched in such a way that he seemed to be observing something upon the table before him. Beside him was another boy, though he seemed quite the opposite of the first, for he was slender, and his dark hair hung past his shoulders so as to obscure his face. A much younger boy peered eagerly at Tom from directly across him. His face I could not see, for he did not face me, and so I glimpsed but the shocking white-blonde hair which came to a point at the nape of his neck.

For a moment, I suppressed the compulsion to join them, then I noticed the being seated at Tom's right, and my heart seemed to sink into the very catacombs of the castle.

She was darkly beautiful in a way that I could never dream to become, her brown hair reminiscent of the damp soil which tops a newly-dug grave and the glittering stars in a midnight sky. She was pale, yet it was becoming, and accentuated the curving sneer of her crimson lips. My dismay transformed after a numb instant to hurt, then to an overwhelming anger as she leaned against him whispering only to have him whisper back, even smile. Through my anger, I felt a burning envy that I Had not felt before of another person. When her lips so poisonous formed the word Voldemort, I turned and briskly stumbled from the Hall.

My emotions were changing quickly then, and I felt each one wrack through me. My mind knew precisely where I was headed, yet I was detached from it, and felt not the movement of my feet as they carried me to the Headmaster's office. I heard myself inquire Professor Dippet of the password to the Slytherin dungeons, heard myself supply a reason for my query. I watched as I left without thanking him and sped away down a maze of stairways and corridors until I was well beneath the main parts of the school.

When I recovered my sense of existence, I was standing before the entrance of the Slytherin common room. I swayed upon the spot which I stood, suddenly dizzy and uncertain. For seconds, I could not remember my reason for being there. A strange thing had awoken within me, and not until later did I feel the ugliness of it. Yet then, it deafened me from voices of reason.

"Devil's Snare," I snarled, and stepped through the opening my words created.

The room was cast in an eerie glow of green, yet this was all I noticed about it for immediately I began to search for Tom's dormitory. Later, I could not even recall whether I had been alone.

I located it at once. The door which led to it was the closest to me, and the most easily accessible. The dark, polished wood was highly contrasted against an ornate silver seven at its center, the number held fast in the embrace of a sculpted serpent. At first, the silver knob would not turn, as though denying my entrance because it knew I should have not been requesting it. Though it was simply locked, and soon I was inside.

Just as Tom's dormitory had been simple to find, the bed in which he slept was most obvious. Favoritism was always apparent in the House of Salazar Slytherin, even more so when it held the sleeping place of the Head Boy. The four posts of his bed had been lavishly decorated with expensive hangings, and he had been granted the largest space of the small room in which to place his things. The other beds had been pressed closely together, save for one which had several inches of difference.

In spite of this, Tom kept his belongings in the trunk in which he had transported them from the orphanage. It was to this that I proceeded. I lifted the lid slowly, suddenly conscious to noises I might make. Inside, everything had been packed neatly, yet the diary I had given him a year or so before lay haphazardly tossed upon the top, as though he had been forced to hide it hurriedly. And thus, I snatched it from its place and closed the trunk.

I did not know where to take it, so I crawled onto his bed. What I thought I might find upon the thick pages I was not sure. For moments I would think that what I had done was foolish and without thought. I had not stopped to consider things logically, and my actions seemed to show that I had greatly overreacted. Yet other moments, that which I was doing made perfect sense, and I ceased to question it.

As I opened the leather-bound booklet, a piece of parchment fell into my lap. Curiously, I examined it, only to find that it was a list of names I did not know. However, I recognized the parchment itself, with a jolt, as the parchment Tom had hidden from me in his room at the orphanage. What had he not wished for me to see, I wondered, and why? The list was labeled with two letters, and at the time, they had no meaning. D.E., it read, and I was befuddled further.

-

I had been so engrossed in my search–a search whose purpose I did not know–that time had lost its meaning. I had forgotten of the day's classes and of any other obligations I might have had, as I had not yet been disturbed by anyone. The diary entries fascinated me in spite of myself, and never before had they been read, for I was the only other person who knew how to do so. I had been the initial creator of its secrecy, yet his words brought so much more. More, even, than secrecy, for there were often references to me that brought a smile to my lips, and I was even more thankful that there was no one to see me then.

Of the brunette fraternizing with Tom, I learned little more than her name. Druella Rosier, she seemed to be, the only female on his mysterious list of names, and in her fifth year. There were brief mentions of her every so often, yet nothing more, as though he was laxly monitoring her, or considering her for something. It was a comfort to find that she was written of differently than I was. There was no mention of her appearance, or even of things they had spoken of, though it still seemed peculiar, as I could not piece together an understanding of the relationship between them and the other names upon the list.

With a weary sigh, I closed the diary and set it upon the edge of the mattress. I curled my knees to my chest and rested my head against his pillows, slipping my legs beneath the topmost blanket until I was ensconced in its warmth. I was overwhelmed with shame for my strange mood, and had no comprehension of my actions. I felt almost sickened, and burying myself in Tom's bed, his scent surrounding me, was a panacea, and I quickly fell prey to slumber.

-

My cheeks color just in remembrance of this event, for even now it seemed an odd occurrence. There is amusement brewing in Albus' eyes, I know, and so I cannot meet them with my own. He has recognized the typical jealousy of adolescents, and I nearly regret that I have recounted this to him. Yet I know it is important that I have. The list which I discovered marked the formation of the very first of Tom's followers–or potential followers.

The names are of no use now, for their owners have almost all passed on. Druella, who is the only one from the list I can still recall, has died the most recently of them all.

-

My eyes opened with a start, for in my sleep I had been overwhelmed with the sense that there was a presence beside me. It was moments before I realized where I was, yet when I did, thoughts of worry crashed down upon my mind. I struggled to sit up, the blankets tangled about me until it seemed I was attempting to run blindly through thick liquid and fog.

Suddenly, I heard a low chuckle near my ear and felt a hand upon my back. I tensed, through in an instant I relaxed and sank once more into the pillows. I knew not how long I had slept, though I sensed that it had been long enough. Tom had returned to his dormitory; whether he had guessed what awaited him, I was not certain.

"I trust you have found what you were searching for," he murmured, and had there been any other occupants in the room, I alone still would have heard him.

I hung my head. "I am sorry."

He was a barely perceptible pause. "Rosier is nothing more than an asset."

I sighed hollowly and suddenly my throat seemed to clench. My eyes burned, and just as the boy whom I had met the previous evening had done, I rubbed at my eyes to dam the approaching river of tears. "Yet the way she conducts herself around you... The way you allow her to–"

Only the soft glint in his eyes could be seen in the darkness of the room. He touched my cheek, and I fell silent as he kissed me.

"Nothing more, Danielle. At times, one must do anything possible to gain what one desires most."

These words were to haunt me for the rest of my life.