When Hazel woke up the next morning, she didn't immediately remember what the day was. The dorm was empty when she finally got up, a first given that she normally didn't sleep in this late, even on weekends. She was distracted by her thoughts, going over everything that had occurred the day before in her head until she felt some level of prepared to face the day.
And then it hit her as she descended the staircase into the common room to find it drastically redecorated from the norm; today was October 31st, AKA Halloween, AKA her birthday. It should've been cheesy, all the orange clashing with the Slytherin colors, but it still somehow seemed elegant.
The boys were upon her the moment they caught sight of her, clearly having been waiting for her. Momentarily panicked, she glanced around looking for danger after how she had gone off on Riddle yesterday, but the prefect wasn't present. Hazel's next thought was the hope that she hadn't kept them waiting for long, as they clearly seemed excited.
Obviously dressing up for the holiday, the group was dressed in varying autumnal shades. Abraxas stood out the most from the others, given that he looked like he had been inspired by the colors of the leaves, with soft brown slacks and a golden yellow shirt with a burgundy blazer overtop. Nott and Avery seemed to match with black slacks and orange sweaters, while Lestrange and Dolohov were in all black. Hazel was momentarily glad that she had unintentionally picked out clothes that matched the others, though her own were obviously of a lesser quality given their status. She was content with her simple black velvet pants and blood red blouse, which she had only chosen because it reminded her of Cetan. It wasn't the most Slytherin outfit, more Gryffindor if anything, but it was comfortable.
"Finally! Let's go, we have so many plans for today before the Halloween feast!"
"You don't mind, right?" Lestrange whispered to her as they walked down the corridors, and she was momentarily confused by his concern before she remembered their bonding session in the Owlery.
"Like I said last night, maybe it'll be nice to associate some new memories with my birthday," she replied just as quietly with a warm smile, and it seemed to relieve him. They brought her out to the Quidditch field, which was odd in itself, but then things got even weirder when they tied a blindfold around her eyes and promised to be back shortly. Hazel was wary at first, but she trusted them, so she laid back on the soft grass under her. The sun was shining down on the arena, a relief from the chill of the October weather. She hadn't meditated in awhile, and she could almost hear Mr. Coyote groaning in frustration in her head. But with all the ups and down with Riddle lately, she had been left off center and unsteady in a way that she wasn't used to.
"If this is too much, speak up now or else Malfoy will keep us busy all day," Dolohov spoke up suddenly, causing her to jolt; she had forgotten he had stayed behind to wait with her, "I don't know what was wrong with you at the Quidditch match, but we were worried. We'd be fine just hanging out in the common room all day if that's what you wanted." And she found herself feeling guilty yet touched. She was tempted to accept the out, but she wanted today to be something they could be proud of, wanted it to be something more than just sitting around.
"I'm fine now," she assured, messing with the ties of the blindfold just to have something to do, "But I'm just now realizing how my actions affect others, affect my friends. I don't mean to worry you all so often, mainly because I'm not used to having people that care about me like that."
"You may want to get better at that before you drive Malfoy and Riddle into an early grave," he chuckled, but there was still an undertone of seriousness that surprised her.
"Riddle?" But her question was drowned out by excited whoops and a loud gust of wind as their friends returned. Suddenly there were hands pulling her up, and when she unraveled her magic from around herself, there was a very familiar response from nearby.
"Surprise!" Abraxas all but shouted into her ear as he removed the piece of fabric covering her eyes, and when her eyes adjusted to all the light, she couldn't help but smile when there was a snout bumping into her hands.
"Odon? What's going on?" she asked in amazement, glancing around the group as if waiting for one of them to pull the rug out from under her.
"We got permission to go on a flight with you," Dolohov explained from his place still next to her.
"I even got Cetan, who has a letter for you by the way," Lestrange continued after his friend, and she was startled to find the bird perched on his arm, as she hadn't even noticed the hawk with the thestral demanding her attention. Now that she was aware of his presence though, he flew over to them, landing on the other creature without hesitation or care. Luckily, Odon didn't seem to mind, still giving off impressions of joy and excitement. When Cetan presented the letter to her, she took it with a smile to read later, promising the bird a treat at some point.
"You guys think that you can keep up?" Hazel teased as she pulled herself up and onto the thestral, who luckily had a saddle on this time. It definitely had Hagrid's work written all over it, especially given that Odon's name was sew into the supple leather.
"These are the fastest brooms money can buy," Nott scoffed at her challenge, but there was an amusement in his voice that showed he meant no offence. And a fire in his eyes that showed how eager he was to truly put it to the test.
"Guys, this wasn't supposed to be a race," Abraxas groaned, but even he was smiling, twirling his broom around mindlessly. It was a good look for him, the confident Quidditch player that he was shining through.
"But isn't this more fun?" Avery offered up with a smirk, mounting his broom as well. As they formed a starting lineup, she could feel Odon tensed under her, ready to break into a run at the slightest provocation. Cetan had taken to perching on the back of the saddle, though even he was clearly ready for takeoff as well.
"Go!" Hazel isn't sure who finally breaks the silence, but she doesn't really care. There's a moment when she almost feels like they're moving backwards as all the boys takeoff immediately, leaving her in their wake.
"Let's go!" she shouted as they trailed behind the group on the brooms, given that the thestral needed a moment to take off. But within seconds of leaving the ground, the creature was soaring over the others, Cetan easily keeping pace with them.
"No fair!" Lestrange laughed as the bird intentionally flew too close to him as a distraction, yelping when his momentary distraction had him drifting a bit too close to Dolohov, who all but snarled at his friend at the almost accident.
"We never made up any rules!" Nott exclaimed as he then proceeded to kick out at Avery with a smirk, who dodged the attack effortlessly.
It felt like they were a single unit, like her and the stead were perfectly in sync. Bat wings beat furiously at the air, and if she enclosed them in her magic to reduce drag and wind resistance, no one had to know. It seemed the thestral wanted to win as badly as her if the emotions she felt coming from him were any indication, whereas Cetan seemed almost bored with the whole race, given that he was faster than all of them. It was a relief that the animal got along so well with the creature, fly gently corkscrews around them like the show off he was. They were so far ahead that she found herself relaxing prematurely, only to feel something immediately behind them. And when she cautioned a look back, she found Abraxas grinning at her like he had just been waiting for her to notice him. It was smart, the way he was following behind them perfectly in order to take advantage of the slip stream.
"Didn't think you'd leave me behind so easily, did you?" he called out, coming close enough to brush Odon's tail in a teasing manner. The blonde was completely flat on his broom, laying on it rather than riding it, something that he made look effortless with his balance.
"Never!" she giggled, race clearly over as they both slowed down to cruise alongside each other. Cetan, who was clearly done with them all, landed on the front of his broom. Abraxas looked at the hawk in amazement, clearly not bothered by how the bird's talons were digging into the wood. It was peaceful, just the four of them flying aimlessly above the school.
"We have another activity at the lake!" he shouted after awhile, turning smoothly towards the body of water, the thestral following without needing to be told. As they flew lower, she spotted the rest of their friends gathered on a large blanket by the shore of the lake.
"You planned a picnic?" she asked incredulously, though already she could feel her mouth watering.
"With the help of a certain house elf," he explained with a wink as they made the final descent, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling widely.
"Took you guys long enough! Who won?" Lestrange asked as they landed, reaching out his hand to help her down from the thestral with something mischievous in his eyes, "My lady."
"Who do you think?" she asked rhetorically as she punched his arm for his teasing, to which he held up his hands in mock surrender. When the other Slytherin sat down, she took the place next to him, with Abraxas following their lead a moment later. Odon, who hadn't been told to leave, settled down behind her like the world's boniest pillow, but that didn't stop her and Lestrange from leaning into the thestral.
"Now don't eat too much, we still have the feast to gorge ourselves upon later," the Malfoy warned as they tore into the food as if they were starving, causing more than one of them to roll their eyes at his mother hen tendencies. Hazel wasn't surprised to find her tiny sandwiches in the assortment, everything from caprese to Peking duck, though she found herself missing the hot chocolate. There were plenty of fruits and cheeses to make up for it though. Every now and then she would catch one of them sneaking treats to Odon and Cetan, causing her to hide a grin, but she didn't say anything less she wound their prides.
"I can already taste the roasted meats and butterbeer," moaned Avery, as if the idea of the feast was better than sex, resulting in Dolohov almost shoving his food in his face.
"Or the desserts," Nott added with a dreamy expression, as if he was already planning exactly what he was going to eat. Then they fell silent as they all were busy with eating, until everything was gone despite Abraxas's warning. Hazel made herself even more comfortable, burrowing into Odon's side as the food coma hit. The others seemed to be feeling similarly, stretching out on the blanket. She had almost drifted off when movement suddenly had her eyes flying open, only to find Abraxas floating several gourds into the space that had been taken up by the food before, not hesitating to drop one on Nott's foot when he didn't seem inclined to make room.
"What are the pumpkins for?" she asked, bewildered, watching as each of them took one for themselves, following their lead and grabbing a rather rotund squash for herself.
"We thought we'd carved our own jack-o-lanterns!" Lestrange announced gleefully, spinning his own pumpkin like it was a top.
"I haven't done this since I was a kid," she considered wistfully, briefly remembering flashes of her Halloweens with her parents.
"We still are kids," Dolohov pointed out with a deadpan.
"Okay smartass, I mean when I was like 5," Hazel huffed, trying not to chuckle. She rotated her pumpkin, trying to decide which side was the least blemished and would work the best.
"Well, none of us have done it at all," Avery said, his tone light even though it was clear that this was a touchy subject, "It wasn't exactly something our parents wanted to do with us. Why do it yourself when you can conjure some up or have a servant do it?" None of them could really think of what to say after that, the mood plummeting briefly.
"Well, this should be easy enough with the Severing Charm," Abraxas began with a clap of his hands, as if to dispel the negative mood, "But what to carve?"
"We could do the traditional faces?" one of the others suggested, which they all answered with murmurs of agreement.
"In any case, we need to gut them first," Hazel said, moving to hover her wand over her pumpkin, focusing on the task at hand.
"Excuse me?" When she looked up, she found all of them staring at her like she was crazy.
"You know, when you cut off the top and remove the pulp and seeds?" she explained, pantomiming the actions as she said them. But there was no comprehension of any of their faces, and she was forcibly reminded that they didn't know what they were doing.
"That's a thing?" Avery cringed, looking at his pumpkin as if it had betrayed him.
"Well, you can't light it up properly if it isn't hollow," Abraxas pointed out, catching on first. After that, they followed her lead as she used the Severing Charm to cut into just the flesh of her pumpkin until she could pull off the top.
"This is so gross, why does it feel like this? And the smell," Nott complained, complete with overexaggerated gagging, as he felt around the inside of the gourd.
"I think it's kind of relaxing," Dolohov hummed, violently ripping out the guts as if he was murdering it.
"What do we do with this now?" Lestrange asked, holding up a handful of seeds tangled in the slimy pulp.
"Well, we could roast the seeds for a snack?" she suggested, causing his expression to light up.
"I've never had pumpkin seeds, are they as good as sunflower seeds?"
"Better," she assured, conjuring a huge mixing bowl to hold all of the pumpkin pulp and seeds.
In the end, they ended up just doing faces. Hazel made a scary face, with a mouth full of jagged teeth and wicked flaming eyes so it looked like a demon. Malfoy made a traditional face, with the triangle eyes and everything. Nott, Avery, and Lestrange had basically butchered their pumpkins while using the Severing Charm, some of them even cutting through the entire thing. Dolohov's carving was surprisingly the best, a realistic rendition of his own face. It took very little effort to wash the seeds and roast them carefully with a fire charm, even conjuring up some salt for flavor. They turned out great if she did say so herself, with only a few charred losses.
"That took so much longer than I was expecting," Nott groaned, even as he devoured handful after handful of roasted seeds.
"Yeah, but it was nice to do something new together," Abraxas brushed off the negativity with a shrug, still marveling at his carving.
"What do we do with the jack-o-lanterns now though?" And that was something to consider. They could preserve the pumpkins, but there wasn't much point to doing so. And bringing them inside wasn't a good idea, given that they would begin to rot.
"I think I have an idea," Hazel announced as they brainstormed, watching as Odon happily munched on the stray pieces of pumpkin that had gone flying while they were carving.
"What are you doing?" someone asked as she gathered up the jack-o-lanterns and began to levitate them over the group.
"Feeding the Giant Squid," she explained, moving the pumpkins to float over the lake.
"Offerings to the lake monster?" Dolohov asked skeptically, even as a curious tentacle emerged from the lake, batting at the proffered snacks.
"He's not a monster!" she scolded, though she hesitated briefly when even Lestrange looked wary, "He just looks scary, right?"
"She's insane," Avery muttered, though there was a certain amount of awe in his voice, as the creature suddenly and violently snatched all of the pumpkins out of the air, dragging them down into the lake with it.
"Yep," Nott agreed, popping the 'p' just to be annoying. They all stared at the lake in fascination until the water had stopped churning with the movements of the squid. She considered reaching out with her magic to communicate, but she wasn't sure if that would be appreciated, and it would also encompass their group, which she actively wanted to avoid if she could help it.
"We only have a few hours left," Abraxas muttered with disappointed as he finally looked at his watch, glaring at it as if that would cause time to rewind to give them more time to celebrate.
"I mean, we can always do things at and after the feast?" Hazel mused.
"That's true, we just don't normally partake in the activities," Lestrange pointed out, something awkward on his face that spread to the others as well, leaving Hazel in confusion.
"Well, why not?"
"Because it's childish," Avery groaned.
"Because we hate everyone," Nott jested.
"Because it makes Riddle angry," Dolohov announced with finality.
"Oh," was all she could think of as a response as the truth came out.
"But maybe he won't mind this time?" Abraxas offered up hesitantly, but Hazel just knew that he was lying to himself, "After all, maybe it'll actually be fun. We can bob for apples and trick or treat the paintings, watch the performance by the ghosts, maybe even attend the dance."
"There's a dance?" she asked, perking back up at the mention.
"It isn't like a formal ball or anything. It's more so just a bunch of kids that get together in the Great Hall after the feast and dancing happens," Nott explained, shrugging as if there wasn't a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, as if they all weren't thinking the same as her.
"How romantic, sweep me off of my feet now," she deadpanned, and when she pretended to swoon, the boys laughed at her display.
"If you insist, just be prepared," Lestrange warned, his attempt at a sexy smirk giving way to a smile, "Because I'm incredible on the dancefloor, just wait until you see my waltz."
"We're all good at dancing, we are heirs to prominent families after all," Avery pointed out, rolling his eyes at his friend's attitude.
"Have you ever taken any lessons, Hazel?" Dolohov spoke up, the question bringing the rest of their conversations to halt as they waited for her answer, curious about what she would say.
"Not really," she replied with a wince, "It wasn't exactly a concern of my parents nor of any of my tutors. Even Mr. Coyote didn't see it as important."
"I can't wait until he comes to visit you again, that man was amazing. And the long line of purebloods that he must be descended from, he's extraordinary," Nott sighed dreamily, as if her mentor was his new idol. She was just about to contradict his statement, given that the Native American didn't really fall into the categories of blood, but then Abraxas was grabbing her hand and pulling her along.
"As interesting as this conversation is, we have some other activities to get to." All of them began to clean up, getting rid of the blanket and basket while saving the remaining roasted pumpkin seeds for later. Hazel used this opportunity to address the thestral and the hawk, who had long grown bored of the humans and their oddities now that there was no treats or flying involved.
"You go directly back to the stables, Odon. Thank you for the ride. And Cetan, I'll read the letter and have a reply for you later, okay?" And just to be sure that they got her meanings, she pushed her feelings and thoughts towards them, not that she had to worry much. Both the creature and the bird were very smart, already taking off to the skies after a brief stretch. They began their trek towards the castle, carrying their extra seeds and brooms. Without Riddle among them, the others walk in a different formation, were they almost seem to surround her, but maybe that was because it was her special day.
"Ah, Ms. Walker, I'm glad I caught you!" a cheerful voice rings out as they enter Hogwarts, and she's not surprised in the slightest to find Dumbledore making his way towards them, "Even though I already gave you your presents, I still wanted to get around to telling you happy birthday. Have these boys been showing you a good time?" As he addressed her, his eyes slid over her friends as if they weren't even there, and his final question almost felt like he was giving her an out. And given that theses were her friends, who had gone out of their ways to make her birthday special, it felt like a slight.
"Of course Professor. Thank you for the birthday wishes," Hazel replied sweetly, though she's sure her eyes showed something sharp in them, as the older man seemed to pick up on her mood. He almost seemed to back down, finally acknowledging the rest of the group, who had almost unconsciously gravitated closer to her when they heard her fake sincerity as if to back her up.
"And a happy Halloween to the rest of you. I'll let you get back to your days, I trust I'll be seeing you later at the feast." And with that, the professor disappeared down the hall as if he hadn't even been there. Immediately, the boys flew into a storm of talking over each other, but all of their comments seemed to be the same. She barely even noticed as they continued to herd her through the castle.
"Is it just me or is weird how much attention he gives Hazel? It's kind of creepy," Lestrange pointed out with a shiver, concern and disgust mixed into his tone.
"It's nothing like that," she sighed, quick to defend Dumbledore, even though he clearly treated her with favoritism, "He was the one who came all the way to the desert in the states to retrieve me, who took me shopping and made me feel welcome in a foreign country."
"Such a Gryffindor," snorted Abraxas, rolling his eyes before turning to her directly, "But I'm glad that he was there for you."
'When we weren't,' was very clearly implied, though it wasn't like they could help it, given that they hadn't even known her at the time. It was only when someone spoke the password that she became aware that they had arrived in the dungeons.
"Why are we in the common room?" she murmured, as she had been under the impression that they had another activity planned. But she quickly caught on when her eyes caught on when she was pushed onto one of the couches, all of the boys that could fit on the furniture with her dragging over chairs to fit on.
"It's time for gifts!"
She was overwhelmed by the mountain of boxes and bags that were placed in front of her, all of varying sizes and weights. They were all professionally gift wrapped, with shiny silver foil and over-the-top bows. It was daunting, how much they had clearly gone overboard with the shopping. She paused before grabbing the first box on the pile, almost waiting for one of them to exclaim that it was a joke, but they were all just watching her eagerly.
There were less personal gifts, including enough candy to last her months, high quality parchment, and a collection of potions, but there were also things that showed that they had been listening when she mentioned some of the things she was interested in. There were books, ranging from mystery novels to encyclopedias of spells and charms. There was a wizarding chess set made of glass and crystals that sparkled in the light, but with Avery beaming at her proudly, she didn't dare comment on how expensive it must've been. There was a collection of winter clothes, which she was thankful for given that she didn't have anything suitable for the upcoming weather. There were fashionable scarves and leather gloves, a lovely emerald princess cut coat with fur trim and lining, and even some boots that had been spelled with warming and water warding charms. Somehow all the clothes were perfectly her size, which was mildly creepy, but she appreciate the gifts all the same, especially given how they seemed to take her own style into account.
And all throughout her opening the gifts, the boys had been fawning over everything to hype her up, followed by arguing about who got her the best present. They were rambunctious and untroubled in a way that they rarely showed, as they were normally occupied trying to be like Riddle, or at least how the prefect pretended to be. Even Dolohov, who idolized the leader of their group, was goofing around, playfully trying to strangle Nott with one of her new scarves. So when Abraxas pulled her to the side and gave her a single box after all of the others had been opened, none of the others even noticed. There was no explanation, as he just continued to look at her expectantly.
"What is it?" she asked, trying to guess the present from the weight of the box alone in her hand.
"I guess that you'll just have to open it and find out," he teased, gesturing at the present impatiently, eyes flitting between her face and the gift. Hazel huffed, though she indulgently began to unwrap the box. As she removed the lid, she held her breath, steeling herself for whatever extravagant bestowal the Malfoy had gotten her, only to find-
"A mirror?" she couldn't help but ask aloud as she took it in. While it was beautiful, made of some precious metal, it was clearly an antique. There were faint scratches on the glass, and it very much was in need of some polishing from where so many hands had held it.
"Excuse you, that is an enchanted mirror," Abraxas explained, mildly offended at her lackluster reaction.
"Well, what does it do then?" Hazel carefully picked up the mirror, turning it over carefully to reveal the precise etching of ruins into the metal backing. She couldn't read them, the language clearly long dead, but she could feel some kind of power from the phrases, almost a pulsation.
"It shows you the person you are thinking of and what they're doing."
"That seems a bit invasive," she argued as she just as carefully put the mirror back into the box.
"Well, it could be if you used it for the wrong reasons," he considered, as if he hadn't even thought of that before giving it to her, "I got it for you to see Mr. Iktomi whenever you miss him. Or for summer break when you start to miss my handsome face." Though Abraxas had clearly been going for a lighter tone, his blush gave away his honesty, that he wanted her to miss him when they would be separated.
"I love it, thank you, Abraxas," she murmured, pulling the startled Slytherin into a hug that had the rest of the group whooping. Though he hesitated before returning the gesture, he eventually wrapped his arms around her in a crushing embrace.
"Just don't let anyone know I gave it to you, it may or may not be illegal," he whispered into her ear as they parted eventually, as their friends began to approach them like a pack of vultures.
"I wonder why," she muttered sarcastically as they were engulfed by the others, teasing a still blushing Abraxas about the hug, despite both of their assertions that it was just a friendly gesture of affection. To make her point, she even hugged Lestrange, who immediately froze with strangled yelp when her fingers sharply poked him in the ribs.
"Come on guys, we should get moving if we don't want to keep Riddle waiting," Dolohov pointed out, and as they all checked the time, they found that the feast was due to start soon. Suddenly they were all running, someone's hand around her wrist forcing her to keep up as they ran through various halls and up a staircase. When they arrived to the entry of the Great Hall, they were all out of breath and disheveled, though it didn't stop them from smiling wildly.
"Shit, are we late?" Avery suddenly asked, slightly panicked, as they discovered the final Slytherin already seated at the table.
"No, he's always just early," Abraxas groaned, but he didn't exactly sound assuring. With that, they made their way into the Hall with their heads held high and their expressions blank, returning to the heirs that everyone else expected them to be. Hazel trailed behind as they entered, finally able to see the entirety of the room and the decorations.
"It's beautiful," she couldn't help but gasp, trying to take in every detail.
And it was, the room lit solely by jack-o-lanterns, casting it in a warm orange glow. There had to be hundreds, floating at various heights throughout the hall. Hazel was tempted to twirl around just to get the full effect, but Abraxas was already guiding her towards their usual seat at the Slytherin table when he noticed her lagging behind and blocking the entrance to the hall in her wonderment. Back in the presence of the Slytherin Prince, the group was noticeably less relaxed, tense. And as she took her place next to the blonde, diagonal from Riddle, she could see why. The boy, who was completely ignoring the greetings from Dolohov and Nott, was staring at her with dark and poisonous eyes. And unlike the rest of them, the prefect was dressed more formally in black dress robes, his hair shiny with gel to hold the shape of perfect curls.
"Hello Walker, have you had a pleasant birthday?" he asked, but it was clear that he wasn't interested in her answer in the slightest. All the same, she began to reply.
"Yes, it was wonderful. Thank you for-"
"I only ask because I was not made a part of any of your plans," the prefect cut her off, his malevolent gaze now searching the group as if deciding who to persecute for such a crime. And Hazel couldn't bring herself to respond, not that he would believe her anyway.
"We didn't think you'd be interested," Abraxas finally spoke up when no one else made any indication of doing so, Riddle's ire immediately falling onto the blonde.
"Oh really?" the Prince asked coldly, clearly just waiting for the Malfoy to dig his own grave.
"We had a race and then carved pumpkins, activities that you have shown contempt for in the past. We meant no offence," he explained calmly, though his face was devoid of all color, giving away his fear, "But if you would like to join us after the feast, Hazel wanted to attend some of the activities."
"Is that so?" And just like that, Riddle's attention was back on her, as if challenging her to contradict her friend.
"Yes, I thought it would be nice to go trick or treating, maybe even dance," she hurriedly responded, thankful that she hadn't stuttered. She had seen the prefect like this before, had him attack her multiple times even, but normally he had enough control to not act like this in such a public space and in front of his associates. He truly was spiraling, from his recent injuries and their fight to his sleep deprivation. He was slipping, and it was putting everyone else in danger.
"Such frivolousness, what is the point?" And Hazel had to fight down her first instinct to respond in kind, especially when she noticed the fear on the other boys' faces, fear of Riddle, fear for her. Because they didn't know the weird and messed up friendship that she had been trying to build with the prefect, they didn't know about the nightmares that only she knew about, they didn't know of the scared and traumatized boy hiding behind the façade. And they never would, not if the aforementioned Slytherin could help it. So she took a deep breath and stood up slowly, glad that they had arrived so early that the table was still largely empty. Abraxas made a move to grab her hand, but he drew back into himself after a sharp look from Riddle. She took her time walking around to the other side of the table, with even measured steps. And when she took the empty seat next to the prefect, she didn't hesitate to grab his hand under the table, where no one else could see. Of course his first response was to squeeze her hand to the point of making her bones creak threateningly, but she didn't let the display phase her.
"The point is to have fun. Today is Halloween, and I would like it to continue being a good day. And it would be better if you would join us," she explained calmly, only quiet enough for the two of them to hear, staring down at the wood in front of them, "It's my birthday, the first one I've celebrated in years, and I want to spend it with my friends, with you. So can you just be angry at me tomorrow instead?" She was close to begging, to self sacrifice, but this appeasement after their last conversation was the only thing she could do to soothe his anger.
Holding his hand like this allowed her feel his magic, his emotions. It was a whirlwind, and she was surprised to find jealousy and genuine hurt laced throughout his fury. But slowly, it calmed. There wasn't happiness per say, but there was a level of reluctant acceptance that let her know they were out of danger for now. And the hand that had previously been crushing her own instead moved to properly reciprocate the hold, thumb brushing over bruised knuckles with something like an apology.
"Don't think that you're out of trouble just because I'm going to allow you this one day, that I'm going to allow you to have them for now. If this foolishness is what you want to waste whatever favor you have with me on, so be it," he hissed just as quietly, directly into her ear. But at his words, she found herself able to breathe easy again, relaxing and thanking whatever God was watching over them for the miracle.
"Thank you," she murmured, squeezing his hand gently, finally lifting her gaze from the table to the others.
"I guess that I will join you for the other activities, since the birthday girl insisted," Riddle announced coldly to the rest of the group, who had clearly been trying to listen in to their private conversation if the guilty look on their faces was any indication. Abraxas still didn't look comforted by the prefect's approval, and he kept trying to tell her to return to her original seat with his eyes, clearly wanting her away from the volatile Slytherin. But she knew that Riddle would take offence, given how surprisingly sensitive he was to being left out, especially given his current state. And she still hadn't let go of his hand under the table, nor did she intend on doing so until it was time to eat. Hazel could keep him calm like this, even if it was out of the ordinary for them, her more stable emotions acting as a balm to his own chaotic self.
"Next time I'll be sure to drag you along all day just like the others," Hazel teased lightly, taking the opportunity to study the decorations further. The table itself was crowded with wreaths made from fallen leaves, candles shaped like skulls, and small gourds. It was delightful, a bit like Thanksgiving, though they obviously didn't celebrate the American holiday here.
"I'd like to see you try," Riddle challenged with a smirk, but there was something delighted to him, as if he truly liked her thinking of him in her future, "So tell me all about the gifts that you got her?" And of course the boys were instantly talking over each other, yet again trying to argue for who had gotten her the best present. The prefect listened to them ramble, though he clearly caught on to how Abraxas didn't join in. She understood why, given his gift to her, but it was suspicious. And his current pout didn't exactly help either, his out of character reluctance to join the conversation.
"Excuse me students, please settle down," the Headmaster suddenly boomed from the front of the hall, startling her enough to finally drop Riddle's hand, though he was just as surprised, "It is my pleasure to have you all here for another Halloween Feast. I know that times have been scary lately, with the wars occurring both in the wizarding world and the muggle world, but I would like to remind you all that you are safe here. Without further ado, let the feast begin!"
"There's a war going on in the muggle world as well?" Avery asked, even as his eyes were locked on the house elves bringing out tray after tray of food.
"Yep, World War 2," she confirmed, trying a glance at every tray and platter that passed by her as well. It was incredible, the sheer amount of smells that were tempting her. She wanted to try everything.
"There was a first one?" Nott asked next, and she could almost feel her mental processes screech to a halt. Her first instinct was to glance at Riddle in bewilderment, as if asking if the other Slytherin was serious. When she didn't get the response that she was hoping for, she instead became skeptical, wondering why he had allowed the ignorance.
"Don't look at me like that," Riddle scoffed, "None of them have even ever seen a muggle, let alone know any current world events."
"Let's not talk about such morose things tonight," Abraxas interjected before Hazel could begin lecturing them, and when she saw how none of the others were listening, she just sighed.
"He's right, we should just enjoy the feast," Lestrange offered from his place across from her, already piling a plate high. She turned her attention back to the food before her, yet again at a loss for what to eat. There were so many options and combinations that it was almost overwhelming. And though she was excited to try something new, she also found herself longing for a meal that she hadn't had in a while. So she began to fill her plate with a little bit of everything she could reach, though she made sure to obtain everything she needed for her creation.
"What are you doing?" the Slytherin next to her asked as he watched her begin to assemble her ingredients, his own plate still noticeably empty.
"Building a sandwich with croissants, roasted turkey, potatoes, cheese, gravy, and stuffing," she explained, finally topping her masterpiece with another croissant smeared with gooseberry sauce, the closest she could manage to get to the traditional cranberry sauce.
"Isn't it a bit messy?" he questioned skeptically as she began to lift the sandwich to her mouth for a glorious bite, causing the stuffing to overflow from the confines of the bread, but it wasn't like she cared.
"Yes, but it's more convenient than trying to get a little bit of everything onto one fork for the perfect bite," she answered after savoring and swallowing her first bite, slightly annoyed that he was interrupting her feasting while all of the others were shoveling food into their faces at an almost alarming speed.
"Of course you would reduce a magnificent feast into a sandwich. You have an obsession," Riddle sneered, though she noticed the way his eyes watched her continue to eat with gusto.
"You're just mad that you didn't think of it yourself," Hazel responded in kind, raising an eyebrow at his staring.
"Can you at least try to eat some vegetables?" he asserted, ignoring her previous statement and gesture completely.
"I will if you actually eat more than one bite of meat," she huffed, though she finally put down her food, as clearly he wouldn't leave her alone, continuing hesitantly, "My point still stands that you need to eat more."
"Fine, make me up a plate and I will eat every bite, just to satisfy your needless worrying," the prefect relented, though he made it sound like he was only willing to do it as a favor for her.
"You're a teenage boy, aren't you supposed to always be hungry?" she lamented as she snatched up his plate, beginning to assemble another sandwich for Riddle, and when he didn't protest, she relished in the idea that she had been right that he had wanted one as well.
"Why would I waste my time and energy thinking about when my next meal is?" he asked genuinely, as if the idea was absurd and had never occurred to him.
"Because food is important," she lectured, getting lost in her quest to fill his plate with as many nutritional foods as possible to the point where she continued to talk, a little bit too honestly, "I've had some tutors that didn't really care about making sure I had enough food, that I ate at regular intervals; it sucked and I always felt miserable. So why would someone as smart as you ever do that to yourself?" When Hazel handed back over his plate, she found that he was just staring at her seriously, cold fury barely tempered in his eyes, though it clearly wasn't directed at her.
"Give me names, and I will report them to the proper authorities," he ordered stiffly, but the expression on his face belied his intentions. She had no doubt that if she actually gave him names, that those people would end up in the newspapers for their bizarre disappearances and dying in horrible accidents.
"No one cared then, and it's in the past now. Don't worry about it," she deflected sharply, returning to her own plate of now cooling food. She didn't want to think anymore about the past right now, much less the tutors who had neglected her once they realized that they couldn't tame her magic or emotions, that had starved her on purpose occasionally as punishment for not obeying.
"And your parents didn't do anything?" Riddle continued to rip at the wound, even if he didn't know it. But it wasn't any of his business, and she clearly wasn't ready to talk about this.
"No, they didn't," she grit out before taking a vicious bite out of her sandwich, eyelids fluttering at the relief of being able to savor her creation once more. Of course she could almost sense the other Slytherin preparing another question, causing her to tense up and guard her food like he would take it from her, but suddenly someone else was speaking up.
"I don't know what you two are talking about, but can you please save it for a day that isn't for celebration?" Abraxas asked politely, but there was something stony about his tone, as if he was trying to defend her from Riddle, something they knew was easier said than done.
"What did you-" the aforementioned terror began to hiss out, his misplaced indignation targeted at her friend, at least before she cut him off.
"No, Abraxas is right. Now come on, finish eating so that we can all go trick or treating." With the reminder that he had agreed to eat all of the food that she had placed on his plate, and the attention of the rest of the group on them, he backed down with a scoff, finally turning his attention to the food. She watched from the corner of her eye as he delicately took a bite of the identical sandwich she had made for him, smirking to herself when he began to eat in earnest. And with no more distractions, she was finally able to eat her own food, including the various roasted meats, vegetables, and sauces she had added to her plate to try. And just when she thought that she couldn't eat anything else, the desserts began to make their way onto the tables, and she couldn't help herself. And when Riddle stayed true to his word and finished off his entire plate, she made sure not to mention it.
"How are you even supposed to eat this much candy?" Riddle asked awhile later, after they had been trick or treating the ghosts and paintings.
"You eat it all at once and hope that you don't throw up," Hazel chimed, sorting through her bag of sweets. Of course the prefect had been too stuck up to trick or treat himself, but he had joined them in walking around, only mocking them for being immature occasionally. Multiple paintings and professors had still forced treats upon him despite his lack of bag, resulting in the Slytherin having all of his pockets stuffed to the brim with candies that he hadn't even wanted but had been too polite to decline.
"I'll trade you all my chocolate frogs for that fudge," Lestrange all but pleaded with Abraxas, eyeing the massive hunk of fudge that some painting had bestowed upon the blonde like it was a precious gem.
"No way in hell," he chortled, and she could swear that the other was almost in tears.
"Can I try a piece?" she asked, curious if the fudge was actually that amazing. There was a pause as her friend seriously considered her request, but when she began to give him sad eyes, he immediately caved.
"Only because you asked nicely," he relented with a blush, avoiding eye contact with her amongst the chorus of complaints of favoritism from the others. He broke off a small piece, which she accepted with glee, teasing Lestrange. But upon actually eating it, she found herself shuddering and wishing for a glass of milk.
"That's sickly sweet," Hazel complained, turning down Abraxas's silent question of if she wanted any more, which of course caused most of them to look at her weirdly.
"Well, how about the sour apples?" he offered next, handing her another sweet that she ate without hesitation, eager to be rid of the lingering flavor of the fudge, humming in delight as she tasted the new candy, resulting in her friend laughing, "Of course you would like them." She assumed that was a dig at her oddities, but she didn't really mind, so she just shrugged.
"Hey Tom, would you like our sour apples too? We don't really like them, and we'd like you to have them," Dolohov asked the prefect, a pile of her new favorite candy growing in his hand as everyone relinquished them. Riddle considered the offer for a moment, clearly running the idea over in his head just to be spiteful to her.
"No, I have all the candy I could eat here, but thank you for the offer," he eventually decided, and just like that, she was grabbing all of the sour apples out of Dolohov's hand viciously. They continued to walk through the halls, searching for any paintings they may have missed, the rest of the group consumed in their bartering, leaving her and the prefect to follow along behind. Eventually though, they admitted defeat, and they began to move back towards the Great Hall, where the rest of the activities would still be going on.
"I don't understand why you're so popular," Hazel snarked, eating another sour apple. Though the side eye she received had her momentarily wondering if she had fucked up, he didn't seem too offended.
"I'm handsome, I'm helpful, and I'm smart," Riddle listed, as if it should be obvious. And while he was smart and handsome, his flaws were in no way outweighed by his positives. He was a manipulative asshole who didn't care about other people, they just couldn't see that.
"You are so full of yourself," she groaned, pretending to gag.
"Don't act like you haven't fallen for my charms as well," he asserted, and while he wasn't completely wrong, there was no way she was going to admit that.
"In your dreams, Riddle," she all but purred, clearly referencing the fact that the prefect doesn't sleep well.
"That was a low blow," he grumbled, though he almost seemed to appreciate the timing of her dig. By now they were almost to the Great Hall, their conversation drawing to an end now that their group was reforming. And Hazel was so excited for what laid just around the corner, they could even hear the music from here.
"You and your charms had it coming," she muttered, stepping into his space to get the last word, which no one else noticed. Imagine her surprise when all he did was elbow her in the side gently, like it was a warning to watch herself.
Entering the Great Hall, there were many things that she was expecting. She was expecting to hear laughter and to see people flying across the dancefloor, for there to be punch and junk food to snack on. But what they found was enough for her to almost deflate in her disappointment. There were people alright, but they were all sitting down along the edges of the room, leaving the dancefloor bare. The jack-o-lanterns had been dimmed to give the effect of mood lighting, but it came off as just depressing, especially with the overly formal classical music that was being played by a rather morose band of house elves. The snack table was laughable, only being filled with leftovers from the feast. In short, it was miserable.
"This is not what I was expecting. You know, considering that no one is dancing," Hazel sighed, trying to see any positives.
"Sorry that this was a dud, Hazel," Abraxas apologized sheepishly, which she just waved off.
"Hey, it's not like you can help it." They just stood there for a moment, debating whether to join the dance anyway or to just call it a night, unwilling to submit themselves to the awkwardness of sitting along the sidelines in silence like all the other students attending.
"As a prefect, it is my job to make sure that this year's festival goes off without a hitch, and that includes this miserable dance," Riddle suddenly announced, voice firm even with his clear disdain of dances, "Malfoy, go fix the music. Lestrange, go get people off of their seats and onto the floor. Avery, Nott, and Dolohov, get the house elves to bring out more snacks and butterbeer. And Walker, I will need you to join me." They all rushed off without question, glancing amongst each other with wild grins, clearly excited at the prefect making sure the dance went on.
"What are we doing exactly?" she asked nervously as she followed him into the Great Hall, all the eyes immediately falling on them as the music screeched to a halt. Riddle strutted like he owned the place, and she followed behind meekly, very much uncomfortable with the attention they were receiving. And once they reached the middle of the dancefloor, the prefect suddenly stopped and spun to face her, causing her to run into him bodily. Instead of immediately pushing her out of his space, he proceeded to do the exact opposite and grab onto her so she couldn't move away.
"We are about to kick off the dancing," he explained lowly, glancing over to where Abraxas waited by the band, nodding to signal the start of the music.
"Wait, what? I can't dance!" she whispered heatedly, but he didn't seem to care, only sighing as if she was being overdramatic.
"Just follow my lead," he commanded, and as they began to move, she didn't have much of a choice. Given how he was holding one of her hands, his other hand settled on her hip, she inferred that she was meant to rest her own hand on his shoulder.
Everything about this situation felt unnatural, being pulled along in an unfamiliar movement by Riddle, fellow students gawking at them like the spectacle they were. She could feel herself begin to panic, but after a moment of being dragged across the floor, the other Slytherin's hand tightened on her hip, properly grabbing her, forcing her to look up at him.
"Just relax, I promise that it'll be fine," he muttered, clearly acknowledging that she wasn't okay, not with this situation and not mentally.
"Easy for you to say," she hissed, unable to stop herself from glancing at their feet.
"Hazel, just focus on me," he asserted, and just like that, his magic was coiling around her, much like a snake. But it didn't feel threatening or dangerous, it almost felt like he was shielding her. And now that she was paying attention to him, he was all she could feel. His amusement and disdain, his tiredness, and even a hint of concern for her. Like this, it was easier to follow him, to just allow his body and magic to guide her through the motions of the dance, to feel the music take them both. While it was still classical music, it was faster paced than what had been playing before. It felt like a proper waltz that would be played at a ball, and the way Tom spun them around the dancefloor, it was like no one else existed. He even seemed to grin with something like pride when she began to keep up with his smooth movements, though it still wasn't easy given how much longer his legs were. At some points it almost felt like they were floating. The points of contact between them stopped her from being able to retreat from him, and their magics almost formed a sort of feedback loop. So when she began to smile, taken by the music and movement and how they both were feeling, he smiled in return. It was dangerous, them connecting like this, where everyone could see them, where they were vulnerable to each other, but it wasn't like they haven't been like this before. When she woke up to find herself nuzzled into his side, when he left her like that, when he was injured and still allowed her to use him as a pillow-
"Riddle, Hazel; may I cut in?" And just like that, at Abraxas's voice, they were falling out of sync, were no longer one, were falling apart. She felt like she was being forced awake after a particularly good dream, like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on her. And Tom, he was just watching her closely, not releasing her, clearly just waiting to see what she would chose. As she looked around them, she was startled to find that they were still in the center of the dancefloor, but now there were people, other students, surrounding them completely, forming some sort of bubble around them as the other couples danced in circles around them. How she hadn't noticed, she wasn't really sure, but it wasn't a great feeling. And although she just wanted to fall back into her partner, to let them resume their dance, their connection, could feel him wanting the same, his magic constricting around her as if to keep her in his orbit, she found herself turning to Abraxas with a weak smile.
"Well, of course," she murmured, throat suddenly dry. Hazel didn't look when Tom, when Riddle released her, didn't look at him when her friend immediately swept her into another waltz, didn't look as he disappeared into the crowd, but she could still feel the imprint of his magic around her, the sear of his hurt and hatred when she had agreed to dance with someone else like a brand. The blonde didn't say anything for awhile, like he could tell that she needed a moment to compose herself, which she was grateful for. She could feel the Malfoy's magic of course, given how they were in contact. Unlike before, now both of his hands were on her waist, so both of her hands clutched at his shoulders as she struggled to find the rhythm again, to the point where he was almost carrying her at some moments. And while she trusted her friend, she couldn't just fall into him like she did with Riddle. His magic, while not overwhelming, was cool around her, almost like a balm on a burn. But it didn't meld well with her own. Her magic was fluid, and it flowed around and through her like lightning. And in comparison, his was like water, like a gentle river that ebbed and flowed. She felt like one wrong move would electrocute him.
"Hazel, what exactly are you doing?" he eventually asked, startling her out of her analysis of his magic. And although she could feel what he wanted to know, what he meant, she found herself avoiding his gaze, staring at his chest as if that would drown everything else out. His worry and his affection, his fear and hatred, his jealousy-
"What do you mean, Abraxas?"
"With Riddle, what are you thinking?" She doesn't like the tone in his voice, doesn't like the way he is looking at her, doesn't like the way he is holding her.
"I'm thinking that he's a complete and utter asshole, but that even assholes need friends," she sighed, so tired of everything all of a sudden.
"You shouldn't trust him, you shouldn't get anywhere near him. I may be part of his group, but Riddle doesn't have friends. And I've always been loyal to him, don't get me wrong, but I care about you. And because I care about you, I'm telling you that you need to keep your distance from him," he cajoled, glancing around them to make sure that no one heard him, especially not the very person he was talking about.
"I know what kind of person he actually is, I know what kind of danger I'm putting myself in," she asserted, trying to soothe Abraxas. But it doesn't seem to work, his frustration and something like guilt flaring up.
"I really don't think you do," he chuckled darkly, taking a deep breath as if to stop himself from saying anything else.
"Abraxas, where is this coming from?" she asked cautiously, carefully, curious about why this was suddenly a problem.
"He's starting to act differently, especially when you're involved. I don't like it, I don't trust whatever he wants from you, because no matter what, it'll be more than you're going to be willing to give. And when he doesn't get what he wants, he'll just take it," the Malfoy warned her lowly, emphasizing the danger she was in, the danger that Riddle presented.
"He needs help, he needs someone to care about, to care about him. Maybe it isn't too late for him to be someone, something better," she murmured, bringing their dance to a halt. She gently pat her friend's cheek, causing him to sigh and lean into the touch, closing his eyes. When he reopened them, there was something like resignation in his gaze, something like loss.
"Why does it have to be you?" he whispered, one of his hands finding and cupping her own cheek in a mirror of how she held him.
"I don't know, but I'm here now," she whispered in return with a melancholy smile, stepping back from her friend. The moment they separated, Lestrange is there, asking her for his turn to dance with her, while a Ravenclaw girl appears to shyly ask the blonde if he wanted to dance. The difference is that while she agrees to the other Slytherin with a playful smile, Abraxas says no and disappears into the crowd completely.
Her night continues like that, being passed along among the rest of their friend group. To no one's surprise, Lestrange is actively the best dancer, twirling her around gracefully with a wicked grin. Avery only dances with her long enough to wish her happy birthday again, privately, before he's off dancing with a girl he's clearly had his eye on. Then there's Nott, and while it's awkward between them at first, they eventually find common ground in mocking some of the couples surrounding them. Last is Dolohov, who doesn't even ask to cut in so much as he bumps Nott out of the way, smoothly continuing the waltz even as the other Slytherin sputters curses behind them. They don't talk, but they don't need to. There's a certain understanding between them, since their bonding moment this morning at the Quidditch field, since they carried Riddle to the infirmary. And that must be how he just seems to know when she tires, when her feet begin to ache and her movements slow. Instead of fighting the crowd, he carries them through it, waltzing all the way out of the Great Hall. They rest for a moment against the wall, listening to the music and laughter still spilling from the entry way, catching their breath. And then, without a word, Dolohov proceeds to wink at her before making his way back inside the room.
She questions the oddness of the situation, even as she makes her way down silent corridors and staircases, past portraits that pay her no attention as she scurries along, to the dungeon. And of course, when she enters the common room, she finds Tom waiting for her with a book in hand, lounging on the couch. His eyes snap up the moment she enters the room, and she wonders how long he had been waiting for her, how many others had entered the Slytherin domain only to find the Prince himself glaring at them. Dolohov's wink suddenly makes sense, and she has to hold back a chuckle at the other's deviousness, not that she should be surprised. It's only when she joins him on the couch that he finally stops watching her, continuing his book in silence. There's only the sounds of their breathing, the turning pages of his novel, and the roar of the fire, and she doesn't even hesitate before grabbing a throw pillow, placing it next to Tom, and proceeding to lay down. He doesn't say anything about the action, and she doesn't say anything when a hand begins to gently tangle into her hair.
Hazel has almost completely fallen asleep, soothed by the hand that still brushed through her locks, when suddenly Tom is standing up from his place on the couch. She sits up at the movement, blinking up at the other teen drowsily, but he motions for her to not move. So she doesn't, even as he makes his way up the other set of stairs to the boy's dorm. She doesn't have to wait long before he comes back, returning to his previous position on the couch. He chose to sit rather close to her, so she doesn't bother moving away, knowing the distance to be intentional. If she did, he would just follow her. She's so consumed in her thoughts that she's startled when Tom sets a box into her hands.
"What's this?" she murmurs, though the answer is quite obvious.
"Your birthday gift from me," he explains calmly, and when she makes no move to open it, he urges her to continue with a huff. He watches her intently and it makes her nervous, but all the same she opens the small box, what she now realizes is a jewelry box. And inside is the most beautiful necklace that she's ever seen. It's a longer necklace, made from sterling silver that gleamed even in the low lighting, so that it would set exactly on her sternum if she was wearing it. Intertwining with the plain silver chain were two snakes coming from opposite directions, also made of silver, with such intricate detail that they almost seemed like they could be alive. And where the snakes should meet, they hung down to form a pendant. The snakes looped, touching before going back their separate directions, but where they met there was a setting with a beautiful gem, an emerald cut with so many facets that it almost seemed to glow. In simple terms, this necklace was something custom, and very expensive at that. But as she ran her fingers over the gem, she could feel something, some type of energy.
"I can't accept this, Tom. It's too much," Hazel demurred, placing the lid back on the box, hiding the jewelry away. And Tom, well, he had frozen at her words, but she could almost hear his thoughts running wild.
"It's just a necklace, stop being so rude," he snapped, though he made no move to take it back when she held it out to him. It's like he couldn't understand why she didn't want it, like he didn't understand why she didn't want to wear his claim around her neck.
"I can feel whatever is in it, whether it's a charm or curse or the residue of your own magic, but there's an intent that I don't understand and I won't accept it until I do," she explained, placing the box onto the side table before standing up. He grabs her wrist, but there's no force behind the hold, merely a plea for her to stay. So it doesn't take much for her to gently extract her arm from him, heading upstairs to the girl's dorm where he can't follow.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, loud enough for him to hear, and she really means it. But she doesn't turn around, even when she can hear things start flying. Or even as she can hear the beginning of a rage filled scream, cut off the moment she shuts the dorm door behind her.
And as she settles into bed, not even bothering to change her clothes or organize all her new gifts, Hazel doesn't even remember the unread letter still tucked away in her pocket.