AN: See below
Chapter 18: Someone help me, I'm crawling in my skin
8th September 1985
The loud thudding of Dudley's fat body going down the stairs was what woke her up. The five-year-old groaned in pain, half because her head was still hurting from the wallop her aunt Petunia had given her for accidentally burning the beans, and half from the dust that had fallen into her eye from under the stairs.
It was then that she remembered it was the first day of school.
She sat up so quickly that she became dizzy. The nauseous feeling in her stomach grew until she was sure she was going to throw up - but she held it back. It wasn't helpful to throw up now because she would have to be the one to clean it up. And no matter how strong she'd become from having to hold the large heavy pans to cook with, she knew that she wouldn't be able to lift the mattress - even though she felt the floor through it.
The girl carefully moved from one side of her cupboard to the other where her clothes for school were carefully folded up. She knew that she didn't have very nice clothes. She saw the other little girls playing in the park, and the frilly pink skirts would follow them around when they ran.
Not to say she liked the colour pink very much, but she did want a skirt. All she got were Dudley's old clothes that were too big for her to wear.
Still, she tried to look nice with what she had on. Really she did, but it was hard to see in the dark cupboard. The small light wasn't very helpful because everything was as blurry as it had been for as long as she could remember it.
Still, she got ready.
She heard the lock on the door slide open but she waited for a few seconds. She never knew whether or not one of the Dursleys were standing outside waiting to do something horrible to her.
They didn't. She decided that that meant they were going to let her have a nice first day of school, so she quickly ran up the stairs to the bathroom and grabbed the stool that Dudley needed. She got out her toothbrush and the toothpaste and began to brush her teeth. She had seen aunt Petunia teach Dudley how to do it, and she'd copied it.
The mirror was there for when aunt Petunia wanted to do her makeup. It was big enough that she could see half her body. The little girl looked in the mirror.
Hallow cheeks. Thin lips - like aunt Petunias. Dark, curly hair that went in all directions after aunt Petunia had cut it off. It had grown back too quickly.
Freakish green eyes. Not natural eyes. She closed them, but only for a second. If she closed them for too long, she started to feel sick again.
She heard the door slam shut. Uncle Vernon was off to work. But the house was too quiet. She rinsed and dried her mouth, her little heart beating quickly in fear of the thought of the quiet house.
There was always noise, always.
In the morning, she would hear Dudley's loud moans. In the afternoon, aunt Petunia would tell her off for not doing a job properly. She would have to shout over the loud video games that Dudley would get. And in the evening, uncle Vernon would be talking about his latest sale. There were even snores at night.
There was always noise, so why couldn't she hear anything now?
She ran downstairs and outside the house. Because no-one was there.
Really, no-one was there. They'd left her alone in the house on her first day of school and she didn't know where to go. She felt the tears well in her eyes. And she wanted to tell herself that it was ok, that she was a big girl but she'd only been to the school once.
She didn't know where to go.
"What's wrong?" a voice called from behind her. When she turned around to look, the girl saw a woman - her neighbour. She hadn't seen her for a long time but she remembered her face a little bit. The woman had smiled at her once but she'd never talked to her before. She had been to university, aunt Petunia had said to one of her friends. Aunt Petunia didn't like the woman she'd called Hannah, but she'd never found out why.
"Nothing," she said quietly. Don't let them know you're upset. It only makes it worse. She had learnt that lesson a long time ago.
"You're lying. What's wrong?" the woman asked her again.
"I'm lost. I don't know how to get to school."
"Right. So where are your parents?" the woman asked but she couldn't answer - well she could but she didn't want to. Her parents were not good people. They were 'drunks' her aunt Petunia said. But what was better? Drunks or people who hit you?
"They're dead."
"Right then." She paused and then looked around. It looked like the woman was waiting for someone, but the girl couldn't see anyone around. "What school do you go to?"
"I'm not supposed to go with strangers," she said.
The woman rolled her eyes. "My name is Hannah Baker. I lived right there -" she pointed to her house - "before I went to university, but I'm back now and I want to help you get to school."
The girl paused for a minute. This was the only thing the Dursleys would tell her when she went outside to pull out the weeds. That even though they hated her freakish nature and even though her parents were horrid drunken wastes of spaces, she was not to go with strangers!
"Or I could leave you here and go about my day."
She bit her lip and frowned. She was still scared and she was still upset. Could she risk it?
But then she thought about how uncle Vernon would hit her if she missed school. He'd told her so himself: "I will beat you if you give me any trouble over school."
She gulped. Getting hit scared her a lot more than maybe getting taken by a stranger. So the green-eyed girl nodded. She didn't want to get punished.
5th January 1994
"I hope you all had a good holiday," Professor Vector said with all the air of someone who didn't care about their holidays at all. "And I hope you all completed your homework." That was really what Professor Vector cared about. It was an interesting start to Arithmancy, though Halley had to admit that the apathy was almost tame for her professor.
The class had all learnt very quickly in the school year that the woman had no patience for pleasantries. Nor did she have any patience for those who didn't finish their homework.
Much like she did in every class, the professor flicked her wand and the parchment that they had learnt to line up at the edge of their desks flew towards the front of the room. Fifteen pieces of parchment organised themselves on the professor's desk in their usual fashion. Even after months, it was still interesting to watch.
Halley wondered if anyone had forgotten to put their names on their homework. They were usually good at it - after Professor Vector had made an example of what would happen if someone forgot to put their name on it for the third week in a row - but everyone had just come back from the holidays. She figured there'd be at least one.
Then the class moved to get their textbooks out from their bags, but Professor Vector tutted.
"Not so fast!" The class stopped what they were doing immediately.
Halley noticed that Granger - who was definitely not in her seat just before the start of class - seemed confused and somewhat out of breath.
"I'm seating you all differently this term."
Now there were mutters and looks of confusion from everyone, not just Granger. Halley pushed her book back into her bag and waited for the instruction that was sure to come.
"Everyone, stand against the wall facing the blackboard. When I call your name, sit at the first available table."
Apparently, Professor Vector was aware of the odd numbers because the first set of people was a trio of Anthony Goldstein, Nott and whichever Patil twin was in Ravenclaw. As they moved, Nott caught her eye for a moment frowning. Halley pursed her lips and broke eye contact with him almost immediately.
The next pair was called, and then another. Two by two they dwindled down until it was only Halley and Granger. And it was interesting that they were given the exact same table that Granger would always sit at alone; the one closest to the door.
"Now then, for the rest of the year, you and your partners will come up with a project that showcases any aspect of Arithmancy that we have thus far covered. It must be practical and - yes it will go towards your final grade of the year."
Multiple hands went up though Professor Vector took the time to answer them all carefully.
It was worth 50% of their grade. The other half would come from the exam.
Professor Vector would set up office hours to go over their initial ideas in the coming week.
They would have three meetings throughout the rest of the year to assist with progress.
It must be a practical application of their skills.
The deadline was two weeks before their exam and each group was to demonstrate their project to the class.
There was a still sort of excited buzz that only came from a challenge being set in the classroom. Granger was practically buzzing in her seat which left Halley a little nervous. She had little against Granger other than the fact that her general demeanour was annoying, but Halley couldn't deny that Granger was very invested in her grades.
With everything that was going on, it was difficult to be as invested as her partner was probably going to be, and Halley doubted that Granger would cover for her as easily as Nott seemed to - though she still didn't understand why that was.
"Right," Professor Vector said, clapping her hands together, "onto the foundation of an Arithmancy Matrix. Open your books to chapter 7."
The rustle of students reaching into their bags made Halley focus, and she reached in to get her textbook out. She opened the hardback book to the contents page, only to find that she couldn't open it at all. Because all the pages were stuck together.
Halley tried again, but the book still wouldn't open. By the third time, Profesor Vector had begun lecturing and Granger was glaring at her.
"Stop fidgeting!" she whispered.
"I can't open the book."
"What do you mean?"
Halley huffed. "I mean, I can't open the book!"
"Ladies! What's the matter?" Professor Vector called from the front of the room.
The class all turned back to look at Halley and she flinched from the sudden attention and the professor's sharp tone. She cleared her throat and hoped no one had seen it but Nott was still frowning at her.
"My book won't open, Professor."
The Professor frowned, and Halley had to admit that the words sounded ridiculous coming out of her mouth, but the professor came towards the table regardless.
"Let me see, Miss Potter."
Halley handed the textbook to her right away. For a second, she had been scared that she was just being stupid. That the restless nights were catching up to her and she was going mad.
But when the Professor tried to open the book, it wouldn't budge. Just like before. Halley let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Professor Vector took out her wand and muttered "finite incantatem." The book opened easily. "There you are, Miss Potter."
"Thank you," she said as the professor retreated, embarrassed that it was so simply fixed. Professor Vector had managed to open the book at exactly the right page, so Halley just inked her quill and followed along with the lecture.
Everything was fine until it was time to turn the page and, once again, it just wouldn't.
Halley frowned at the book angrily. What was happening, and why was it only happening to her book?
She thought about calling casting the finite, but Professor Vector had a strict 'no unnecessary wands' policy and waving hers around would definitely get her in trouble. She also didn't know how many pages were stuck. Halley had a sinking feeling that it was all of them.
And Halley refused to ask Granger if she could share her book after Granger had been so prickly. So Halley sat there making notes as best as she could, but ultimately unable to understand the diagrams.
It was not a good lesson.
And it was made worse by the fact that, after the class had ended, Granger had followed her down the hall and demanded they meet in the Library after dinner to discuss their project.
Just so that she could leave, Halley agreed just before her books were sent flying by Ron Weasley as they all tried to get to Potions. And because she had to pick the books and pieces of parchment up, she was late to class. And as if that wasn't bad enough, her Potions textbook was also stuck together. But at least Nott was quick to share.
That night she went through all of her textbooks and sure enough, every single one of them had been spelled to stay closed. Halley chucked the Runes textbook on the floor in frustration, and Davis tutted.
"Will you shut up? Some of us are trying to finish our homework," she said angrily.
Halley sat on her bed and refused to look at Davis. If she did, she would lash out at the idiot. "Someone's spelled by books to stay closed," she snapped.
Parkinson got off her bed and picked the textbook up off the floor. "Well, that's annoying," she said. "But why don't you just counter it?"
"Oh my, why didn't I think about that?" Halley asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm that Parkinson just ignored. "Maybe it was because whoever did it somehow stuck every page together. So I'd have to counter at least 400 pages!"
"They did it on each page?" Bulstrode asked, horrified at the amount of time it would take.
"Yes!" Halley snapped.
"Best get on with it then, ey Potter," Davis said.
Halley looked over just in time to see the ugly smile on Davis' face and she felt herself swell with anger. "Do you know something about this Davis?" she asked in a low voice.
"As if I would waste my time doing that," Davis said.
Halley seethed, but Davis had a point; it would have taken far too long to stick the pages together individually unless the person who'd done it knew a spell to do it en masse. But no one had been taught that in Third Year yet which meant that it was more likely to be an older student.
But who?
Well, she wasn't going to sit there and mope about it. Nor was she going to get detention after detention because she couldn't open her stupid textbooks. She had a meeting with Professor Lupin for a few minutes. She'd take the books to him to see if he could help. Halley picked up the books from her bed and the one still in Parkinson's hand and stuffed them all into her bag. She made sure to prioritise the ones she'd need for tomorrow and the next day.
"Where are you going with those?" Bulstrode asked.
"To fix them."
The bag was heavy enough to put a significant amount of strain on her shoulder blade, but Halley kept walking. She was out of breath by the time she knocked on Professor Lupin's door, and there was a large knot in her shoulder.
He answered fairly quickly and looked very ill. "Is something wrong?" he asked.
Halley dumped the bag down, happy to get it off her and picked up a random textbook before explaining what had happened for the third time that day.
"Well, that's…" he looked at the pile of books, on his desk. "That's odd."
Halley watched him as he examined the books closely. He was frowning all the while with pinched eyebrows.
"Can you do something about it?" she asked.
"I think I might be able to, yes." He took out his wand and tapped the book twice, then he said a spell she'd never heard before. "Omino solve." The tip of his wand glowed a faint orange and when it was over he flipped through the book, fanning the pages as he went.
"You fixed it!" Halley said.
"Yes...I thought I recognised the spell. Would you like me to do the rest?"
Halley nodded.
When he was done, he helped her pack the books back in her bag and placed a featherlight charm on it for extra measure. That little extra act of helpfulness made Halley smile, suddenly very grateful for Professor Lupin.
"I have more in my dorm. Could I bring them by tomorrow?" she asked.
Professor Lupin gave her a strained smile. "Tomorrow is a staff meeting I'm afraid. It's why I asked you to come today instead."
Halley hummed. She'd wondered why it had changed to Wednesday instead of their usual Thursdays. But it didn't matter so much; all the books she needed for the next few days had been fixed.
"I can teach you the spell if you need it."
"That would be great."
He smiled at her eagerness. "Why did you come to me?" he finally asked.
Halley hesitated. Why had she gone to him? She hadn't even considered another teacher, though Professor Flitwick could have made more sense, or maybe even McGonagall.
But she hadn't.
"I...you told me that I should come to you for help if I needed it."
"That I did," he said slowly.
It seemed like the air hung with discomfort. Somehow Halley knew that this was a step towards the direction Lupin wanted them to take. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. People let her down. People changed their minds.
And Riddle had her caught up in something.
And Black was after her.
Eventually, she and Professor Lupin had had enough of the weird atmosphere because he offered her some orange juice and they began their lesson. For the third lesson in a row, she couldn't find a happy enough memory and there wasn't even a wisp of smoke.
It was the second week in January when Halley was called to stay behind in Binns' class.
Halley almost hadn't heard him; she had been too busy trying to figure out what her positive memory would be so that she could get a wisp out of her Patronus. It was almost surprising that it hadn't been her Hogwarts letter.
Halley had never gotten a letter before, and despite the fact that Petunia had shrieked so loudly that Halley had dropped an iron pan on her foot, breaking two toes in the process, she hadn't felt so much joy at learning she didn't belong to the Dursleys.
But when that hadn't worked, she thought about Hannah; her first friend.
Hannah was years older than her, and half the time Halley would never get to see her because she had a job abroad. But she came back to visit her parents often enough, and when she did, the Dursleys were forced to treat Halley better.
There was nothing worse than someone caring for the Freak, she supposed.
But Hannah would take her to the park. Buy her extra food - sometimes it was sweeties but most of the time it was fruit or something she could hide away for later - and she would let Halley come around her house to play games. She was even allowed to watch television.
It was the safest Halley ever felt, despite Hannah's parents looking on with frowns. But for some reason, those memories weren't strong enough.
And Halley didn't know what could have been stronger. Maybe it was because she'd had to leave Hannah without telling her where she was or what had happened.
The first night in Hogwarts, Halley had stayed awake from the sheer amount of guilt she felt from possibly worrying her friend. The very next day, she had sent a letter off with Hedwig. It had taken all day!
Apparently, Hannah had been in America on business and was very confused by the owl - and how it had found her - but she'd responded kindly. Even though, looking back, Halley was now sure that Hannah had thought the Dursleys had sent her to an orphanage.
But...that couldn't really be the case. Lupin had told her it didn't matter if a negative emotion attached itself to the positive one so long as you were able to feel the positive ones more.
And she still did, didn't she? So what else could she use?
"Potter!" Nott hissed.
Halley looked up to see that Binns was standing over her and had been calling her name.
"I'm sorry sir," she said quickly. It took a second to process the fact that Binns was actually floating in front of her rather than behind his desk. The ghost very rarely interacted with students, never mind approached them!
"See me after class, Porter."
Was that what he called her? Halley nodded and tried not to let the panic show on her face.
What had she done?
But Binns gave her nothing to go on. Instead, he bobbed back to his desk and continued his lecture on the Goblin Wards, and in response Halley paid extra attention to him, thus ignoring the strange looks Nott was giving her in the process all throughout the rest of class.
Then, when the lesson was over and Greengrass had promised to wait for her to walk to lunch together, Halley approached the incredibly dusty and rarely used desk.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Porter." Binns looked at her closely, and she looked back too.
She'd never had the opportunity to study Binns before. The ghost had a prominent mole that sat above a twirled moustache. And he had half-moon glasses like the headmaster, only his were slightly cracked in one corner and sat on his nose crookedly. And..was that a sauce stain on his lip? It was difficult to tell because everything was some varying shade of grey, but she was pretty sure that's what it was.
"Sir?" she asked.
"You didn't hand in your last essay, Porter."
Halley was confused. "What? I'm sure I did, sir. It was on the socio-political underpinnings of the second Goblin Rebellion."
"I do not have it."
No. She remembered handing it in because she'd asked Bulstrode to double-check a date before class. Halley had scribbled it down just before putting it on Binns' desk.
"Maybe you misplaced it, sir?" she asked worriedly.
Binns gave her a deadpanned look. "I have a piece of paper with your name on it and nought more," he said.
Halley frowned. "Can I see?"
Binns motioned to the bottom draw of his desk and stood there. Seconds passed before Halley realised that he wouldn't be able to open the desk himself and she would need to do it. She scrambled to get to the draw when she finally realised what he was motioning towards, and pushed away the awkward bone-chilling shiver as she put her hand through his arm to reach the bottom draw handle.
When she opened it, there was indeed a blank piece of parchment with her name carefully written on the top. "What?" she asked, more to herself than anyone else.
What was going on?!
"As you can see, I do not have your essay," Binns said, hovering just over her hand.
Halley felt her fingers begin to cramp and pulled the paper out of the draw - and her hand away from the ghost - immediately. The pain dissipated soon after, but her essay was still blank.
Had she accidentally used vanishing ink?
"Can I try a finite incantatem, sir?" she asked.
Binns curled his lip. "As if I didn't get a seventh year to do this the very moment I noticed it, Porter. You did not hand in your essay. And your previous work has been subpar at best. Therefore I'm going to have to give you detention."
"A detention?" she exclaimed.
"Yes. Tomorrow night. You will write out this essay and your previous, uninspired assignment, and it will be capped at 50%."
Halley swallowed back the groan of upset that was threatening to leave her throat and nodded. What was going on?
"You are free to leave now, Porter."
Greengrass was waiting for her when she left the room. "What did he want?"
Halley looked at Greengrass coldly. Her eyes glinted with anger. "Someone is intentionally trying to make my life very hard, and I have a feeling I know who it is."
She found them as they were coming out of the library a week later. It was very much by accident, and she didn't think the Weasley twins knew where the library was, but there they were by happy coincidence.
"Well, well," one of them began.
"If it isn't the Heir of Slytherin herself," the other followed.
She couldn't have cared less which one was which because as soon as she locked eyes with one, and then the other, she saw that same malicious hatred in them that she saw in Vernon. On instinct, she gripped her wand in her pocket.
They were the ones behind the pranks. She knew it!
The Weasleys had been suspiciously quiet since the start of the year. Other than Ron Weasley cornering her on the train, they'd done nothing to her. Sure, it may have been that their parents had told them not to do anything, and sure the professors may have said it wasn't Halley's fault, but the Weasleys all had a mean streak in them.
She'd seen it in the twins' horrible pranking wars with every house, she'd seen it when Ron had cornered her on the train, and she'd even seen it in the way that Percy Weasley ostracized his family in the Great Hall.
And the twins must have gotten it in their minds that Halley needed to pay for her death somehow.
It wasn't as bad as she'd expected it to have been, to be honest, but she was getting detentions now. Potions, Transfiguration and Charms. None of the professors believed what was happening, and the ones that did told her she needed to fix it, and soon.
And she didn't have time! She didn't have the energy. She needed it all to stop.
"You've been pranking me," she said.
The two of them grinned at the same time. Sharp and attacking. Halley held onto her wand harder.
"Clever little snake," the other said.
"But I don't think there's much you're going to be able to do about it," the first said.
"You don't have any proof."
"And really," the other said, taking a step towards her. He was much taller - they both were - and Halley stepped back instinctively. "You deserve so much worse, don't you?"
Halley heard steps come from around the corner. As they got closer, she saw the telling bushy hair and pursed her lips. Granger. When Granger saw the three of them, she froze. Her eyes darted between the twins and Halley, frowning the whole time and clutching her bag tighter.
The first twin turned to look at Granger and raised his brow. "Did you need something, Hermione?"
Granger shook her head.
"Good. Now, where were we?"
"Oh yes," the other said.
Too quickly for Halley to react, the twins raised their wands in unison and fired off the familiar purple of the stinging hex. Halley tried, but she couldn't duck in time. The first one caught her in her chest, and the second caught her just a little to the left of her scar.
She cried out in pain, and her bag dropped to the floor. She couldn't get her wand in time before another two stinging hexes came at her.
Her shoulder. Her stomach.
Halley fell down, and a third round hit her.
Her throat. Her lips.
She whimpered, bringing her arms around her head and tucking her body close to her chest to protect it.
The pain was excruciating. The twins had somehow managed to channel more power into the spell because that was not what stinging hexes usually felt like. The stings made the affected areas throb and burn, it was difficult to swallow, and her forehead felt like it had been smashed against a wall.
Halley heard them walk towards her and wondered if they'd really kick her when she was already on the ground. But the steps stopped shy of where she was lying and trying to catch her breath.
"Not so tough now, are you Potter?"
"That was for Ginny."
Then they left.
Halley waited a few more seconds just in case they decided to send one more spell flying but when nothing came, she let the breath she'd been holding go. Then she rolled onto her hands and knees, sitting upright.
Everything still hurt, but she'd had worse.
"Are you alright?"
Halley looked up and Granger was a few steps away from her. She had Halley's bag in the hand that wasn't clenching her books tightly to her chest.
"What do you care?" Halley asked. Her voice sounded rough from where the hex had hit her throat and when she swallowed it felt like her tonsils were swollen, trapping the saliva behind them just a little. It felt a little bit like she was drowning but she pushed that thought away as she rose to her feet.
Granger didn't say anything while she was trying to stand up, and she also didn't offer Halley any help. Not that Halley cared. In fact, it was probably easier on her pride if Granger didn't help her out of pity.
She hated pity.
"They shouldn't have done that," Granger said quietly. "I know they're upset but -"
"Why didn't you stop them, then?" Halley asked. She didn't know why. Maybe it was Granger's punishment for witnessing her fall to the ground like she was a child again.
Granger looked away.
Halley took the bag from her hand roughly. "So much for your Gryffindor courage and sensibilities," she choked out around the throbbing in her throat. "You're no better than them!"
Granger stiffened and her lips tightened. "Why do you always have to - you know what? Maybe Fred and George are right. Maybe you need to realise that actions have consequences!"
Halley scoffed as Granger pushed past her to get to the library. She, more than anyone, knew about consequences.
The Weasley twins didn't do anything else after that. Halley's books stayed unspelled and the essays weren't tampered with. Maybe they'd gotten the satisfaction they needed. She still didn't trust them though, so she stayed vigilant. They must have had someone working with them in her year because at the very least they knew her schedule enough to know when to strike.
And they couldn't have had access to her books all at one time either, which suggested that someone was working with them.
Her money was on Davis but, just like the twins had said, she had no way to prove it. Instead, she just told Parkinson and Greengrass and they promised to keep an eye out on their dormmate. It wasn't hard; between the three of them, everyone had a class with her except for Divination. But that hardly mattered.
In the meantime, Halley spent the next two weeks trying to get a hold of Granger - who was surprisingly difficult to pin down, and apparently was also able to be in two classes simultaneously.
Halley had been very confused when Greengrass had told her that Granger had been in Care of Magical Creatures when Ancient Runes had been happening at the same time.
And she wasn't just doing it for those classes either. Apparently, during Arithmancy she was also in Muggle Studies according to a Hufflepuff third year - but Halley had seen her come in.
Granger had sat next to her in stony silence throughout most of the lesson, only talking when they needed to do partner work. Halley tried following her after class, but Granger had ducked into a hallway and Halley had lost her in the process.
Whatever and however Granger was doing it, she'd been doing it since the start of the school year.
And it wasn't like Halley cared much. She had her own things to deal with after all, but if Granger could be in two places at the same time, then could Halley?
Certain things would definitely be made easier, that was for sure.
But somehow Granger hadn't approached her to work on their Arithmancy project for the last two weeks, so Halley couldn't find out. If they carried on like this, they would fail - and Granger wouldn't allow that to happen - so Halley figured all she had to do was sit back and wait it out.
In the meantime, she watched the Owls in the Great Hall deliver the Saturday post.
She watched absently, as people caught their letters. But then, an owl flew towards Dumbledore and her attention was fixed on him. She'd never seen him get an owl before, and Halley saw the quick flash of anger on his face before he left the hall.
But she couldn't think on it much because a letter dropped into her empty bowl. No-one needed to send her mail.
The last time she had gotten any was from Parkinson and Greengrass and Riddle. And considering the fact that they were staring at her letter across the table in concern, Halley was going to take an educated guess as to who it was from.
"Don't open it here," Parkinson said.
"I wasn't going to," Halley snapped back. Her tone drew some stares from the table.
"Come on," said Greengrass. "Outside."
They got up and made their way to just outside the Great Hall. Almost everyone was having lunch, and anyone who wasn't wouldn't be paying much attention to a group of Third Year girls.
Halley looked around one last time to check the hallway was empty and opened the letter.
She had expected a letter - of course she had - but there wasn't parchment inside the envelope. There was something black peeking out a little bit from the opening. Halley couldn't identify it until it was too late.
A large black body scuttled out of the envelope followed by a bunch of smaller ones. Halley shrieked, dropping the envelope but it was too late. The spiders had gotten onto her hand and no amount of shaking was dislodging them.
It was like they were multiplying as well.
She could feel the tiny legs crawling underneath her loose top and up her arm, tiny pinpricks and scampering going up her arm towards what felt like her neck and she screamed again, hitting at her arms to try and crush the spiders.
Halley could hear her name being called but she didn't know who by, and the panic and the feeling of them as they got closer and closer - and what if they managed to crawl into her mouth or in her ear - and she couldn't stop screaming or hitting at her body.
Parkinson tried to stop her from hitting her body, but the movements were so forceful and frantic that Potter had gotten a few good whacks on Pansy. The slapping was hard, and Pansy had never seen anything like it. It was almost like Potter was in a crazed fit - though she could understand why. No one wanted spiders on them.
But if she kept slapping herself like that, she would end up hurt.
She would have to cast a body bind on Potter if that were the case, at least until Greengrass brought someone back with her!
Pansy took out her wand, the spell on the tip of her tongue, but Potter stopped hitting at herself only a moment before her eyes crossed and she fainted hard on the stone floor. Then she started seizing and Pansy had never felt so useless in her life!
"What the fuck is going on?" she heard.
She turned to see Rowle, dishevelled and angry running ahead of Daphne. He took one look at Potter and, eyes wide with concern, levitated her body. "Come on!" he said before running towards the infirmary.
The two followed as quickly as they could in their heels and with their shorter legs but they managed to keep up with him fairly well.
When they got to the Infirmary, Madame Pomfrey snapped into action immediately. "What happened?" she asked, wand already out and casting spells.
Pansy tried to catch her breath but there was a reason she hadn't tried out for the Quidditch team. In the end, it was Daphne who answered.
In the meantime, Rowle pulled Pansy to the side. "Who did this?" he asked.
Pansy took her laboured breathing as an opportunity to think for a moment. Rowle wasn't inclined to be too concerned about his housemates - at least no more than was obligatory for the Seventh Years - but for some reason, he seemed particularly angry about this. Why?
"Why do you care?"
"Those were magical False Widows! They bite and can burrow their way under your skin to hatch eggs from the inside. If what you're saying is true and Potter opened the letter at the table, they could have attacked everyone in Slytherin!"
Pansy swallowed, suddenly very glad that she hadn't really tried to help Potter.
But this was...ideal. This meant war; it was one thing to go after isolated members of Slytherin house. There was very little you could do to stop that, and if that individual couldn't show some cunning in dealing with the problem, then...well. They would get help eventually, but the payout would be ostracization.
But such a clear attack on the House? This was something else.
Rowle couldn't have that as Head Boy. And more importantly, maybe Pansy could get Rowle to help them somehow. Maybe not with him, or even the Unbreakable Vow, but there was no doubt in her mind that the Weasley menaces were behind this.
Things had gone too far, and Potter was still so damn stubborn she hated getting help from anyone.
"The Weasleys."
AN: Lots of things happening here. I would love to hear people's thoughts on this chapter if you've got any you'd like to share or questions you'd like to ask.
I'm going to post next week but things may start to slow down soon as I will be changing jobs, possibly moving and I also only have about 6 chapters left in the backlog that I don't want to use up too soon without replenishing. I'm hoping NaNoWriMo will help motivate me to write a little more but there's gonna be a lot happening over the next couple of months for me so...yeah.