A/N: Hello, everyone! How are you all doing? It's been a while since I finished Year 3 and here we are, starting Year 4. It bothers me to say that I haven't finished writing this year yet, mainly because the struggles with writer's block continue to disturb me. But I'm sure I'll get over it and provide you with a great year. Year 5 is also getting pretty interesting, especially now that they're talking about Athena's cousin. I wanna thank all the new followers and send a big shout out to all the new readers. Welcome aboard and leave your comment so I know your thoughts on this story. Anyway, as you already know, any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.
Chapter One – Something Wicked This Way Comes
Serenity; that's something I haven't felt for so long that I don't even know how to enjoy it anymore. I find myself worrying without reasons, waking up in the middle of the night as if the Vault of Fear is still endangering Hogwarts, but then I find myself lying in my bed in Lockhart Gardens.
I instantly run my fingers over the eleven tickling charms in my bracelet – which I don't remove for anything in the world – and I can recognize every single one of them, even in the dark.
There's Rowan's little tree, Penny's cauldron, Ben's lion, Bill's crossed wands, Tulip's tulip... and now the new additions: Charlie's dragon egg, Tonks' color changing sphere, Barnaby's unicorn, my grandma's small agate, my grandpa's pipe and Holly's colorful holly. Each one of these people holds a special place in my heart and I have much to be thankful for them.
I stare at my room's ceiling, the moonlight throwing ghostly shapes of the swinging trees all over it, and the movement works as a lullaby. I close my eyes, remembering when I first went to Hogwarts, thinking I'd have no friends, because everyone would think I was cursed.
I snicker in the dark, rolling to my side and hugging my herbal pillow. Now I have eight of the most wonderful friends and thinking of them brings instant peace to my heart.
My nightmares ceased to haunt me – for now, at least – and I've been having amazing nights of sleep where I mainly dream of my friends and I doing all sorts of dangerous things. For instance, once I dreamt that Rowan and I were flying my Silver Arrow in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean during a storm. Sounded pretty exciting during the dream, however.
Grandpa seems to be very happy to have me around again, because now we can discuss likely and unlikely plans for me to sneak into the Forbidden Forest and find the other Cursed Vault.
"First, it is very important that you read all you can about it," he says, filling his pipe. "There are all sorts of dangerous plants and creatures inside that forest and I don't you want you to venture without being prepared."
So I've been spending summer reading all I can about magical creatures and threatening plants – mainly from my grandma's potions room – to try and prepare before I go back to school to another year of rule-breaking and mortal dangers.
Grandpa also seems to be pretty skeptical about the famous Curse-Breaker mentioned by Dumbledore, who's apparently responsible now for finding the vaults and ending the imminent threat.
"It's like when they brought a bunch of allegedly incredible witches and wizards to help the faculty locate the Chamber of Secrets," he tells me. "In the end, they found nothing and concluded that the Chamber was a myth. Of course I never truly believed them. I mean, a girl was murdered and they tried to convince us it was merely an accident."
With grandpa's words still fresh on my mind, I put on a swimsuit, grab a book and head to our private little beach. My awfully pale skin is in some desperate need for some sunrays, so I lie over a towel and spend a while under the sun, reading about potentially dreadful mushrooms.
The Great Horned Deadly Mushroom is a fungus native from Japan and Korea, but which has already spread worldwide. Its red fruiting bodies contain potent toxins that can cause multiple organ failure in those unlucky enough to be bitten by it. Symptoms include stomach pain, peeling skin, low blood pressure, liver necrosis, acute kidney failure, and result in a slow and painful death.
"Interesting," I murmur to myself, looking at the mushroom that looks like a big coral with pointy teeth.
Those needle-like fangs bring Professor Lorcan to my mind. I was beginning to think he was actually a decent man – especially after I got an Outstanding in his class – but he managed to screw it up just a week before leaving school.
The doxies apparently weren't enough for him and it was Professor Snape who found out about Olivia Turner's midnight escapes to the dungeons. The girl, a Slytherin who looked exactly like I imagined Mina, from Dracula, gladly volunteered to allow him to vigorously drink from her blood. It's still unknown if it was fruit of a trance or an actual romance between her and our dhampir teacher, but Professor Snape caught him biting her neck after "unintentionally" entering the wrong classroom.
It came out in the front page of the Daily Prophet, in an obvious sensationalist article by the infamous Rita Skeeter, who mentioned a lawsuit upon Hogwarts and the famous model/singer Lorcan d'Eath. The school pronounced, informing the immediate demission of the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and apologizing to the family of the "victim".
Thankfully for poor Miss Turner, she graduated and won't have to deal with curious and judgmental eyes. Rowan, on the other hand, seems to be outraged not to have her dazzling part-vampire teacher anymore.
I would have gladly offered him my blood if he had asked. I can't believe he fell for some awful Slytherin girl... But it's obvious that Rita Skeeter's article is pure tabloid journalism. I mean, as if a gentleman like Lorcan d'Eath would ever hypnotize a helpless girl just to drink her blood... And he was an amazing teacher! I can't believe we won't be seeing him around anymore. But thank God he's releasing another album, so I'll be able to listen to his marvelous voice on the radio.
Anyway, Charlie has been writing all summer and...
The person who seemed to be exultant the most with Professor Lorcan's demission was our fearsome Potions Master. He seemed extra cheerful while watching our dhampir teacher pack and leave the school, escorted by a pair of Aurors. I could swear to see him devilishly smile at the unfolding scene, but when I looked again, the smile was gone.
I stopped by his office before leaving to take the train back home. He was, as I anticipated, filing a formulary to apply to the now vacant post of our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
"Don't," I said, hesitantly. "Please."
He simply stared at me with intensity, his raven eyes completely ignoring my request, for he turned them back to the form and continued to write. I left, desperately wishing that Professor Dumbledore wouldn't grant him his so long desired job. It was selfish of me, but I didn't want to see him leave because of a cursed position.
I lie down on my back, allowing the sun to kiss my face, and cover my eyes with the back of my hand. The sunbeams warm my skin and the violent sound of the waves breaking against the rocks and sand makes my mind relax for a bit.
My upcoming year won't be as different from my third one; I'll still take every class as possible, but not because I feel like occupying my mind in order not to think of my collapsing family. I'll do it because I managed to succeed in every single task – for my grandparents' delight – and even the simplest of classes, like Divination, brought me something of good. My grade report, bearing nothing but Outstanding's, was proudly pinned next to my schedule and the gorgeous Polaroid of Holly and I in the garden.
The thing that sucks the most about summer is the fact that my wand remains untouched, sitting over my desk, almost begging me to use it. Thankfully, I've been helping grandma to brew some potions and have also been practicing a few "tricks" that do not require incantations or wands, so they're technically allowed to be used outside of school.
I open my hand in front of my face, easily making a flower grow from my palm. I close my hand and the flower disappears, still bringing the delightful magical feeling to my heart.
After a while under the sun, I grab my stuff and return to the house, practicing lighting up the candles before entering the bath. I make the bubbles float around the bathroom and then make a gentle air breeze flow around my body to help me dry up. May seem silly, but these so-called tricks are immensely useful. I then sit by my desk, making the spoon move by itself inside my tea, while reading about how to turn book pages simply using the eyes.
Still, I miss the intricate wrist movements and the beautiful pronunciation of the spells. I rest my hand on my face and stare longingly at my cinnamon wand. The scent is still as strong as in the day I got her and Mr. Olivanders' words are also fresh in my mind: sensibility is my strength.
The many letters piling up over my desk seem to prove it. I was kind enough to understand, but also prevent Penny from drinking a Forgetfulness Potion; I also made Tulip understand that she doesn't need to be afraid of betraying us, because I trust her; and also made Barnaby realize that he can have caring friends that don't patronize him all the time.
"Athena?" Holly's voice startles me and the spoon stops moving. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that lunch is ready."
And then there's Holly. She blinks her jade eyes at me before leaving and I feel grateful for having her around. Perhaps I inherited the sensibility from my grandma, who kindly freed Holly from a lifetime of slavery and gave her a fair job in our house, with the right to a salary, a beautifully decorated bedroom in the attic, a place with us during every meal and even Christmas presents. Unlike any other house elf, she always seems to be utterly thrilled.
We all sit together to have lunch, in a table placed over the green grass, and I think that this is where I belong after all. If my brother had never gone missing, I wouldn't have known about my father's inclinations towards infidelity. I would have spent my life thinking he was a good man and wouldn't have experienced being shipped off to my muggle grandparents after my mum's death.
Despite all these tragedies, I still have fire burning inside my heart, that tells me I'll find my brother and that, no matter what, I'll always find the strength to smile.
"There are how many places to be filled in the Quidditch team this year, darling?" my grandfather asks.
"Two," I say. "Isaac, our Captain and keeper, and Jack, our chaser, graduated. They both got jobs in the Wimbourne Wasps."
"And who's the new Captain now?" he asks.
"Matt Miller," I say. "He's our beater."
"Oh. I could swear you'd be chosen as the new Captain."
"Grandps, I'm only fourteen," I snicker. "Perhaps next year."
"Can you imagine that, sweetie?" he says, looking at my grandma. "Our Athena, Quidditch Captain and Prefect!"
"I'm not sure I'll be chosen as a Prefect," I say. "I mean... I don't think Dumbledore likes me very much."
"Nonsense," grandma says. "What reasons he could possibly have not to like you?"
Grandpa and I exchange secretive looks.
"None," I lie, taking a sip from my iced tea.
My grandfather said my grandma would have an aneurism if she knew what I've been up too at school. He was able to intercept Professor Dumbledore's letter when it arrived and quickly burned it before grandma could even see it. She's completely unaware of my adventures regarding the Cursed Vaults and grandpa says he prefers her to be left out of it.
Everything related to the Cursed Vaults is carefully hidden inside my trunk, inside a small bag which my grandpa charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm. I have the messages from R, the mysterious letter, my brother's broken wand, the book, the map and the broken arrow. And yet, I still don't know how I'll be able to undetectably enter the Forbidden Forest without finding too much trouble.
When I go back to Hogwarts, I'll head straight to the library and try to find as much information as possible concerning the property's forest and the magical beings that lurk in there.
After lunch, Holly helps me practice my seeker skills by throwing and moving small objects in the air while I try to catch them. Grandpa sits in a chair over the lawn, holding a notebook and a quill, working on his next novel, randomly moving his eyes to watch me practice. It makes me tremendously happy that I managed to make him proud of me.
He claps when I grab a tiny sugar cube right before it hits the ground and I can barely wait for the upcoming Quidditch matches. It brought me great joy to help my team achieve the Quidditch Cup – for Isaac's total and complete bliss -, though it wasn't enough to grant Ravenclaw the House Cup. Once again, Slytherin was ahead of us. I never said anything about the hundred points I declined, because they would have certainly granted us the award.
Nevertheless, it didn't feel right to accept points for doing a bunch of dangerous things. Dumbledore made it very clear how disappointed he was about my mindless adventures and how I was supposed to let the mysterious Curse-Breaker deal with the vaults from now on.
Yeah.
He'd wish.
As much I want to trust this witch that I don't even know, something inside me still tells me that I must be the one to find my brother. He's been gone for over three years and after my mum's death anniversary, it felt even righter to jeopardize everything in order to find him.
Yet, I still don't feel like putting my friends' life in danger. Though most of them – like Charlie, Barnaby, Bill, Tulip and Tonks – seem very excited to enter the forest, I still don't want to risk getting them expelled or hurt. Like Frodo and the Ring, this is my burden to carry, doesn't matter how willing they are to follow me.
I haven't said anything yet; during all the letters we've been exchanging during the summer, I haven't mentioned I won't put them in hazard. I can always hear their voices, saying I've gone mad if I think I'll do this alone.
I return to my bedroom, tired and happy, and sink in my bed, running my eyes over the many letters from my wondrous friends.
We can do it – Bill.
I'll be there for you – Rowan.
We won't let Dumbledore stop us – Penny.
I'm scared, but I'm with you – Ben.
I can't wait to see the unicorns – Barnaby.
I sigh, holding the letters against my chest, feeling thankful for my incredible friends, but also scared and apprehensive.
My fourth year at Hogwarts will definitively be harder, more intense and extremely dangerous. I close my eyes, wondering if the fourteen year old kids at Ilvermorny, Durmstrang and the other wizarding schools are going through the same as me.
No?
Just me?
Alright.
