Chapter 2
Bright and early, I was driven from my sleep by the sound of cloth ripping and tearing. My eyes popped open and I shot to my knees in a split second, a low growl already beginning in my chest. Rubbing the sleepy haze away, however, the only thing I saw was the torn remains of my pillows and the tufts of cotton still attached to the tips of my claws.
From the lack of movement in the room and the sounds of four steady heartbeats, no one else had gotten up yet. It was seven in the morning – a full hour before breakfast even started. With a deep sigh, I cast a spell to repair the pillows and focused on retracting my claws before shoving aside the curtains around my bed. Sliding off the mattress, I nearly jumped out of my skin the moment my feet hit the icy floor. Hurrying into my slippers, I waved my hand and set my bed about neatly remaking itself, grinning at how aggressively the blanket tucked itself back into place.
As quietly as possibly, I summoned my uniform and toiletry bag from my trunk and padded out of the dorm and into the bathroom directly across the hall. It was a perfect square with five sinks set along a long counter on the right and a little stool pushed beneath each of them; a mirror covered the entire wall above them. Straight ahead, there was a line of five separate showers with plastic curtains, and to the left, five toilet stalls. A long wooden bench was placed in the center of the bathroom.
"At least I'll never have to wait for a shower or toilet," I said to no one in particular, glancing at my disheveled reflection in the mirror.
"There was always only four of everything before," said Hermione quietly from the bathroom doorway. I hadn't even heard her get up. I was going to have get used to being around so many people. "I suppose the castle provided a fifth of everything to accommodate you."
"Are you always up so early?" I asked, taking in her messy bun and rumpled pajamas, as well as the bundle of clothes and toiletries in her arms.
"Yes… I also heard you leave the room," she said simply, dropping her clothes on the bench and neatly lining up her products on the counter. "I like to actually try and enjoy my breakfast before the rest of the monsters come down to the Great Hall."
"Monsters?" I said; apprehension sat in my gut like lead. She couldn't possibly know what the Sorting Hat had said to me the previous night.
"The rest of the Gryffindors," Hermione giggled, "They're always so loud – even in the morning. Sometimes I wonder if I would've done better in Ravenclaw."
"I suppose no one belongs solely to one house," was my reply as I hung my towel on the hook outside of the very first shower stall from the left.
The moment the hot spray of water hit my bare skin, I felt alive. Freeing my hair from its frizzy braid, I tilted my head back and allowed the water to soak through to my scalp, bringing my hair down back in wet, bloody waves. The shower directly beside me started up, though I found that I didn't mind Hermione sticking close by. Her very presence was sincere and welcoming. About five minutes into the shower, she began humming softly to herself. I couldn't tell what the song was but her voice was very soothing.
About fifteen minutes later, we emerged around the same time, both wrapped in thick towels, hair dripping and wild. Hermione didn't mention the tattoo that adorned my body again but I caught more than one curious glance as we both went about our morning grooming routines. It was about seven-thirty and the other girls still hadn't risen from bed yet.
"Bloody…" Hermione cursed quietly. I glanced over at her from my stool in front of the middle sink. She was holding the two parts of her now broken brush.
"You don't seem like the type to curse," I commented idly, expertly braiding my own wild hair into a French braid and pushing the stray curls in the front back with a red and gold headband.
"The boys are rubbing off on me," she muttered, dropping the pieces in the trash beneath the sink and rubbing her forehead irritably. "That's the third one in the last month. I'm honestly sick of this."
I raised an eyebrow. "Sick of the gorgeous, thick hair that some witches would pay hundreds of galleons to obtain?"
"It's not that I don't love my hair…" Hermione retorted defensively, patting her even bushier mane, "I just wish it was more manageable."
"You're a witch, Hermione," I said amusedly, coming to stand behind Hermione. "Haven't you ever tried any self-maintenance spells?"
Hermione slumped even further on her stool, her expression sour. "I'm muggleborn," she said defensively, avoiding my eye in the reflection of the mirror. "I didn't know self-maintenance spells existed."
"Well," I said bracingly, summoning a bright smile for the girl, "it's never too late to learn. Any witch worth her wand ought to know a handful of spells to keep her hygiene and appearance in top form."
I had begun working my fingers through her hair without invitation, but from the way she straightened up and leaned back into my touch, Hermione didn't seem to mind too much. "Just like any other hair or skin routine, you'll have to keep it up everyday or the effects will revert. Trust me Hermione, these curls don't maintain themselves."
Hermione's eyes roved over the shining red curls atop my head, deep in thought. I sensed her hesitation.
"Oh I don't know Gia…" she said uncertainly, biting her bottom lip. That seemed to be a nervous habit of hers. "I've never tried using magic on my hair. What if I permanently damage it or turn it blue?"
"First," I said plainly, still smiling, "blue hair would be bloody awesome. Second, even if you do mess it up – again – you're a witch, Hermione. You can always just change the color again. You could even shave it all off and regrow it with magic in minutes."
"I suppose I never thought about it like that…"
"We have a little time before breakfast but if you'd like some time to think about it…"
"No!" exclaimed Hermione as I backed away from her stool. She hesitated before unleashing her cinnamon-brown puppy eyes on me. "Would you – would you do it for me the first time? I can practice on my own after that."
"Absolutely. Think of it as a gift of friendship… or an act of mercy."
"Gee thanks…" muttered Hermione.
"I'm joking," I laughed, squeezing her shoulders softly to let her know there was no malicious intent intended. Slipping my wand from its holster, I threw my towel around her shoulders and set to work teaching Hermione a few grooming spells that my mother had once taught me.
By the time I'd finished working figurative and literal magic on Hermione's head, I could finally hear the other girls stirring from their beds. It was nearing eight o'clock. I was happy to say that the entire process only took about fifteen minutes. Hermione was still squealing and admiring her reflection, swinging her soft, honey-highlighted curls back and forth, when the others stumbled into the bathroom in various stages of undress.
"I don't know what you have in your trunk but keep it away from me," was Lavender's greeting before she disappeared into one of the toilet stalls.
"Don't mind her, Lav's not a morning person," said Parvati Patil, smiling and shaking her head at her best friend's antics. "She wanted the bed by the window last night but swears that something in your trunk scared her away from it. Nice to officially meet you, I'm Parvati."
Even I was confused. None of the dark objects in my trunk should've reacted to Lavender's presence, certainly not through the protective ward that I kept around it. Summoning a disarming smile, I shook Parvati's hand. "Gia. It's nice to meet you and Lavender too. I have no idea what could've frightened her but I'll make sure nothing got in my trunk on the train."
"Between the two of us, Lavender scares easily," said Parvati in a hushed tone.
"Oh," I laughed quietly, "Tell her not to be such a pussy."
Hermione choked on her gasp and the other girl, Elizabeth, I suppose, laughed outright.
"Finally, a roommate with a sense of humor," she said, smirking ever so slightly. Her grin widened at Parvati's "I heard that!" from the showers.
"Elizabeth Moon, welcome to Gryffindor."
"Gia Wilde, thank you very much," I said, shaking her hand.
She didn't immediately let go. In fact, she gripped my hand tighter and turned it over, studying the onyx ring set on a platinum band. "Ruby and onyx, huh?" she muttered, more to herself than to me.
I couldn't help but stare.
Her light pecan-brown skin was incredibly smooth – seemingly flawless. Her narrow eyes were dark and alluring, framed by thick lashes; and thick, straight black hair came down to her waist. There was something very intriguing about this girl…Elizabeth… I couldn't tear my eyes away as I watched her strip down without a care and step into the shower. She moved with such an easy grace I found myself envious, remembering the many years it had taken my mother and hired trainers to instill that kind of fluidity in me. We were about the same size, same small stature and toned frame – she was in great physical shape, but it was her magic and energy that kept my interest. She was calm and gentle in her movements, but something about her felt innately dangerous. I didn't sense any maliciousness or threat from her, but I wouldn't put it past her to wipe the floor with a witch or two if she had to.
"Oh thank you Gia, you're the best!" Hermione's happy squeals pulled me from my thoughts. I raised a neat, red eyebrow at her as she forced herself away from the mirror. I had a feeling that she didn't often indulge in the typical vanity of most teenage girls. "Are you ready for breakfast?"
The thought of food pushed Elizabeth further to back of my mind. Gathering our belongings, Hermione and I dropped everything in the dorm, grabbed our backpacks and headed down to the common room. A few students were milling about, either waiting for friends or trying to fully wake up before venturing out into the castle. I didn't see Neville, Harry, or Ron around but Hermione didn't hesitate before making towards the portrait hole, so I followed after her.
Turning the corner out into the main corridor, I went through a mental checklist to make sure that I had everything I'd need for the day. We were nearing the more active corridor that led towards the main staircase; once on the moving stairs, we were quickly surrounded by dozens of other students on their way down to breakfast. Rather than push the loud chatter back into a dull buzz, I embraced it and allowed it to distract me from my own nerves.
"Gift and a curse…" I muttered to myself, shaking my head as I picked up on more than a few conversations that were being had about me.
"What was that?" asked Hermione absently, somehow already scanning over what looked like neatly written notes.
I would've been blind not to notice the stares as we made our way down to the Great Hall. Mixed in with the curious looks were some more appreciative ones from more than a few guys. I fixed a small smirk on my lips – it was nice to be admired sometimes, though I could do without the rumors that were already spreading.
Before we'd even made it to the first floor they'd built up some sort of superhuman image of me.
I paused and hesitated outside of the Great Hall, taking a moment to collect myself.
"Are you all right?" asked Hermione, finally looking up from her roll of parchment.
"I…umm…" I said, resisting the urge to whack myself over the head.
In… out… in… out…
"I'm fine," I said, steeling myself and summoning my best confident smile as we strode inside.
The Gryffindor Table was still mostly empty when we arrived and I trailed after Hermione down to the center, the same places where we'd sat the night before. A full breakfast spread appeared up and down the table, and it was all I could do not to simply throw my face into the nearest platter of sizzling bacon. Hermione had begun to hum to herself again while I piled my plate.
"It is way too early to be that happy, Hermione," I joked, shaking my head as I mixed up my coffee and took a reviving sip, shivering as it warmed my stomach from within.
"I'm just excited to jump into our classes. I'm hoping we learn some really interesting this year," she gushed, pulling a thick book from her bag and propping it up against a heavy milk jug.
As small as I was, my favorite house-elf, Prim, had always joked that I'd eat us all into poverty. Thinking about Prim made me think about the home I had left behind, and soon I was rather dutifully and viciously tearing into my pancakes. Perhaps sensing the sudden darkening of my mood, Hermione remained with her head in her book, absently eating her own health-conscious breakfast. The silence was broken only as Professor McGonagall strode by, handing out schedules.
"Nice to see that some of my House are prepared for class," McGonagall said approvingly, her nose lifting as she scanned the rest of the still slowly-filling table.
"Good morning Professor," Hermione and I chimed respectfully. Her expression softened.
"Good morning girls. I'm expecting great things from you, Miss Wilde," she said suddenly. "Your mother was a fine witch and I'll accept nothing less from her daughter."
"Yes, ma'am," I replied seriously. I had every intention of making my mother proud in any way that I could.
"Miss Granger, do continue to make our House proud," she said, before she touched the girl's shoulder and quickly moved along as Hermione positively beamed.
"What have we got Monday mornings?" I asked, and then drank deeply from my huge mug as Hermione consulted the schedules.
"Herbology, with the Hufflepuffs." She glanced over at me, her warm brown eyes so open and caring. "And don't worry about anything, okay? We've all been through the first day jitters, but you'll do just fine."
"Thanks Hermione," I said quietly, gently bumping her shoulder with mine. "I really needed that."
"Right, so first, Herbology with the Hufflepuffs…"
At the mention of the badger's House, I glanced over my shoulder and scanned the Hufflepuff table until my eyes rested on a tall, broad-shouldered boy with wavy brown hair. He was facing the Gryffindor Table and must've felt my eyes on him because he paused in his seemingly hilarious conversation and met my gaze. A brilliant smile lit up his face as he recognized me and my spirit soared. Cedric Diggory raised a hand to wave and nearly the entire Hufflepuff table had turned to crane their necks and see whom he was greeting. As I raised my own hand to return the wave, a new burst of excited whispers swept the Hall.
Huffing, I turned back to our table as Hermione's two best friends came stumbling sleepily down the table and plopped down across from us, robes wrinkled and hairs still flying every which way. Neville wasn't far behind them.
"Morning Mione," both boys greeted fondly.
"Good morning Gia," Harry added, before immediately joining Ron in piling everything within reach onto their plates.
"Good morning Gia," said Neville, sliding into the seat to my left. "It's still a bit odd to see you here."
"Well, get used to my ugly mug, Nev, cause you'll be seeing it every day from now on," I said, fondly ruffling his hair; he laughed and swatted my hands away.
"What's after Herbology?"
As Hermione studied the schedule, Ron grunted out what was supposed to be a greeting, but his mouth was so thick with half-chewed food that it was the most he could manage. "After Herbology, we've got a break and then Care of Magical Creatures…" she made a pained expression.
"What's wrong with Care of Magical Creatures?" Harry asked around a mouthful of toast. I raised an eyebrow and he flushed, washing down the lump with a gulp of pumpkin juice. "We love having class with Hagrid."
"Except the part where we're almost burned, frozen, bitten, scratched, clawed, maimed, or eaten by one of his little pets," Ron added, finally coming up for air from his food.
"Well, he's not wrong about that," muttered Neville, fixing his own breakfast.
"Excuse me?" I snapped, mildly alarmed.
"He did say 'almost'," said Harry, laughing even harder at my expression. "Well, no one's been injured too badly yet."
"I suppose Malfoy's run in with Buckbeak last year didn't count?" Ron seemed to grin darkly at the memory.
Wait… Malfoy? Oh, Draco was going to kill me!
"Speaking of Malfoy," Hermione interrupted, "Hagrid's class is with the Slytherins."
Harry and Ron groaned.
And it looked like Draco would get the chance that very same day – I couldn't wait.
"Who thought it would be a good idea to put us with those…snakes, within range of dangerous, magical creatures?" Ron growled, stabbing his pancake as if it had personally offended him.
"They're begging for an accident to happen," Harry added, nodding darkly.
"Don't speak too badly about Malfoy in front of this one," said Neville, jerking his thumb at me. I nearly fell from my seat. I don't think I'd ever heard Neville use sarcasm, nor had I ever seen the look of dark amusement on his face.
What had transpired in the last couple years?
"What's that mean?" asked Hermione. Harry and Ron were both staring at me as well.
"It's sort of the same thing I told you last night about me and Neville," I said slowly, suddenly picking at the remains of my breakfast. "I've known Draco my entire life…about as long as I've known Neville. He's one of my best friends."
"WHAT?"
All three of them were staring at me with such shock and disbelief. Suddenly, I wondered if I'd ruined any chance of making friends in my own house.
"That can't be possible," said Ron fervently, shaking his head. "You seem…nice! And – and normal! And not completely evil or narcissistic."
"I know Draco can be a bit stuck up sometimes, and a little thorny, but he can't be that bad, right?" I asked, laughing hesitantly.
"A bit stuck up?" snorted Harry.
"A little thorny, she says," added Ron, looking extremely disturbed at the thought of anyone being friends with Draco. "Are you sure he didn't put some mind-control spell on you?"
"I tried to tell you in my letters, Gia," said Neville, shrugging and turning back to his food.
"I thought you'd be all for house unity, Hermione?" Ron asked around a mouthful of his ravaged pancakes. "You haven't said anything yet."
Hermione glared at her plate. "I am…but I'm not going to sit through another year of being harassed by Malfoy or his friends either. One more 'mudblood' out of Malfoy and he's going to get a lot worse than a bloody nose."
"He called you that?" I gasped, utterly horrified as they all nodded in unison. Then, I paused. "Wait…you – Hermione Granger – punched Draco Malfoy in the nose?"
"It was bloody brilliant," said Ron fervently.
"And well-deserved," Harry added.
"Oh I know he wasn't too pleased about that," I said, nearly smiling at the thought. When we were younger, Draco and I had gotten into our fair share of scrimmages – too young to use wands and so close that any perceived slight from the other was met with immediate retaliation. "Why? What happened?"
The trio shared a long look, one borne through years of solid friendship and clearly, misadventure. "That's a long story for another time," said Harry finally.
I decided to respect it and dropped the subject.
"Double Divination this afternoon," Harry groaned suddenly, changing the subject as he scanned over his own schedule. Ron grunted, clearly still annoyed.
"I don't know why you didn't drop the class last year when I did," lectured Hermione, "Then you wouldn't have to sit through a different bogus prediction of your tragic death each class."
"Wait – what?" I coughed, having snorted coffee through my nose. "The professor does what?"
Harry groaned, and he and Ron launched into a full detailed account of Professor Trelawney's class. In the end, I realized that even with the additional gifts bestowed upon my mother's bloodline, I had dodged a bullet by avoiding that class.
"Hermione's right. Unless you have Seer's blood, which I highly doubt because true Seers are very rare, you wouldn't get anything out of that class," an explanation that should've been given to any student considering taking Divination. "Divination can't be taught. Either you have the gift or you don't – and since I'm assuming that you don't, I would suggest dropping or swapping the class."
"Swap it for what? Muggle Studies?" Harry scowled. "I grew up with muggles – I think I already know enough about them, thanks."
"Wait – you didn't grow up…here? In this world?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
I suppose that would explain his lack of arrogance or the air of a pureblood elitist if he was raised away from the spotlight. Draco certainly hadn't mentioned this bit of information in his many rants about Harry, but I suppose that it wasn't common knowledge either. Harry seemed distinctly uncomfortable at the mention of his family and judging from the looks on Ron and Hermione's faces, it was quite personal.
"How about you talk to McGonagall about dropping the class?" I redirected the conversation. Merlin knows there were stories about my family that I'd rather not tell.
"But that'll leave him with two empty class periods!" Hermione gasped, quite appalled at the thought of wasted learning time.
"You could do what I did and submit a request for a self-study period," I shrugged, cleaning the last of my plate. "It still counts as a class and grade, and I can study whatever subject I'd like as long as I can demonstrate and prove that I've actually been studying something relevant – trust me, she'll check."
This information was met with raised eyebrows.
"I – I never knew that was an option," said Hermione quietly.
"I didn't either, at first – it's not mentioned in the most recent copies of A History, Hogwarts –"
"Oh not you too!" Ron groaned, very maturely sticking his tongue out at Hermione's smug face. "Hermione's always going on and on about that bloody book."
"You'd be surprised by how much relevant information is in that bloody book – as you called it," I said simply, shrugging my shoulders. "But as I was saying, I didn't know self-study was an option either, not until I got my letter and saw what electives were available. I'd corresponded with the headmaster and though he informed me that self-study was usually restricted to sixth and seventh years who were preparing for a specific career, he eventually approved my request."
"What do you study, then?" Harry asked as Ron and Hermione fell into what sounded like a long-standing argument on something or the other.
"I use the time to continue my training," I said vaguely. Harry's expression silently asked for elaboration. "Without going into too many details, my family's traditions means that each child is individually trained as soon as they begin walking and showing signs of magic."
"Trained in what, though?" he prompted, hardly glancing over at his two friends. Neville seemed to be doing his best to keep them from making a scene as Professor McGonagall could be seen eyeing our group suspiciously from the Head Table.
"Different things, depending on where the child's natural abilities lie, but I try to stay diverse – physical training, hand to hand, weapons training, and of course, working on controlling my own magic," I explained further.
"Wow," Harry whistled, "All of those sound so cool. I suppose I probably could use all the training I could get, what with –" he cut himself off and looked down.
"Voldemort?" I whispered, watching as his eyes shot to mine. There was surprise there, and even a fair bit of suspicion. "Oh come off it, I'm not completely dim, nor am I blind. I was at the World Cup too – I just didn't stay once the drama started."
"You were better off, trust me," Harry huffed, "But you're right. I can't continue on the way that I have. I think I'll talk to McGonagall later."
There was a sudden rustling noise above us, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Instinctively, I looked up, but there was no sign of my black owl, Ario, among the mass of brown and gray. The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed.
A large tawny owl soared down to Neville and deposited a parcel into his lap.
"Still as forgetful as always, eh?" I teased, laughing as he shoved my shoulder.
"Oh shut it."
On the other side of the Hall, an eagle owl that I recognized immediately landed on the shoulder of the topic of our earlier conversation, Draco, carrying what looked like a supply of sweets and cakes from home. Lady Malfoy must've snuck them out of the house because the Lucius I remembered would've never allowed such 'coddling', as he'd called it.
Harry seemed to be looking for something in particular, perhaps his own owl, but when he didn't see it, he looked rather upset. I distracted him from whatever he had been waiting for, engaging him in a long debate about the usefulness of the seekers and chasers in the World Cup. Needless to say, the simple fact that I was interested in Quidditch, knowledgeable about it, and actually played it, definitely cheered both Harry and Ron up considerably and seemed to redeem me in their eyes after revealing my relationship with Draco.
We were just rising from the table and the boys were still going on about the World Cup match, when I noticed Elizabeth seated at the very end of the Gryffindor table, nearest the door. Hermione must've noticed my glance because she leaned in and said, "She's been sitting alone since our first year. We tried to make her feel welcome but she always seemed to prefer her solitude, so we let her after a while."
The mysterious girl, very reminiscent of Hermione earlier, had her head buried in our assigned Potions textbook and seemed to have long-since blocked out the noise around her. Heeding Hermione's forewarning, I branched off from the group heading for the door.
"Elizabeth," I said calmly, not wanting to startle her…but something told me that even though she appeared focused on the words in front of her, she was still very aware of her surroundings. The more I observed her subtle behaviors, the more intriguing I found her.
"Yes?" was her simple reply, never looking up from the page she was on.
"Would you like to walk with us to Herbology?" I asked boldly, glancing over my shoulder, surprised and pleased to see that Neville and the others were waiting for me by the exit, looking on curiously.
It seemed that they weren't the only ones that were surprised because I caught the very quick flicker of uncertainty flash across Elizabeth's face. She paused…and then dog-eared the page and shoved the book into her backpack. "Sure, why not," she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder and rising to her feet to follow us out into the main corridor.
"Cousin," called a rather amused voice from behind me.
And sure enough, as my entire group turned around, Daphne Greengrass exited the Great Hall with that calculating smirk permanently planted on her lips.
"Daphne!" I said, as we rushed forward and greeted each other with a tight hug. "Oh, I'm so happy to see you. There was so much happening at once last night, I didn't have time to come around and greet you."
"I suppose I can let such treachery go this one time," she drawled sarcastically. "I'm happy you finally came to your senses and came to Hogwarts," she said, before glancing over my shoulder, "though I wish you'd found better company to keep."
"Daphne," I said warningly as I heard a couple angry intakes of breath behind me.
"Fine, fine," said my cousin, flicking her shiny obsidian hair over her shoulder. "I get it. You're a mighty Gryffindor now. I'll play nice – if I must."
"Yes, you must," I said, laughing and slinging my arm around her shoulder, turning back towards my housemates. "Guys, I'm sure you know my cousin, Daphne Greengrass."
"Your – cousin?" said Hermione apprehensively, eyeing Daphne like one might eye a particularly large spider they found in the cupboard.
"Like…a blood relative?" asked Harry, his expression cool.
"Our mothers are twin sisters, Potter," said Daphne, just as cold. "Is that bloody enough for you?"
"Do you know every Slytherin in the bloody castle?" groaned Ron, though there was more than just disgust in his eyes as he looked over Daphne. I couldn't blame him though, she was gorgeous, even without the added allure of a Lycan.
"Look what pathetic creature finally decided to drag itself in from outside," said Pansy Parkinson, sauntering out of the Great Hall, with a couple other girls I recognized from formal balls and ministry events – Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis, both of lower-level bloodlines.
"Watch it Parkinson," warned Daphne, her green eyes flashing.
"Think nothing of it, Daph," I said coolly, tightening my grip around her shoulder. If my temper's fuse was short, Daphne's was nonexistent, especially when it came to family. "Perhaps Pansy will learn to mind her tongue when I remove it."
The students gathered around us gasped, wide-eyed.
"You wouldn't dare!" said Pansy scathingly, her jaw clenched.
My wand flicked into my hand in the next second. "Who's going to stop me?" I said darkly, my eyes glowing.
"Let's see you try it now, you little –"
"Calm down, Pansy, Merlin!" groaned Draco, arriving with the rest of their class behind him. "You can't go anywhere without having a go at someone."
"But Draco," she whined, immediately turning her puppy eyes on him, "she started it."
"Who was it this ti –" but his words seemed to fail him as he looked upon me. "Gia," he said, a smile starting to upturn his lips until he focused behind me, and his expression turned sour. "Merlin, tell me you're not already consorting with Potter and his lot!"
"I didn't hear too many great things about you over breakfast either, prat," I said, laughing as I let go of Daphne and approached my oldest friend. "Really, Dray? You're throwing around the 'M' word? I should wash your mouth out myself!"
"But they always start it!" he said immediately, shooting a glare over my shoulder.
"Now you sound like Pansy," said Daphne, still amused by the entire exchange.
"I hope you won't be lowering yourself to associate with these…people, Daphne," said Pansy disdainfully, turning up her nose as she looked upon my new friends.
"I can associate with whomever I bloody well please, Pansy," replied Daphne smoothly, "Especially my own cousin. The others are of little importance, but I suppose I can stomach their presence for you, Gia."
"We can hear you, you know," said Ron from behind us.
"I know," said Daphne over her shoulder. Ron's cheeks flushed.
"How about everyone," I said loudly, "play nice, something that you lot clearly haven't been able to do in the past three years."
"Oh please," huffed Draco, rolling his eyes. "Potter's got his broom stuck so far up –"
"Maybe if you weren't such a bloody –"
And so, the corridor descended into a storm of cursing and name-calling, and I felt a throbbing begin in my head as the seconds ticked by.
In…
Out…
In…
Complete silence fell as a loud, ominous growl filled the corridor, utterly rattling my chest with its force. I didn't need a mirror to know that my eyes were glowing a brilliant amber and my claws were fully protracted. As a chorus of racing hearts reached me, I closed my eyes, rolled my head around my shoulders, and took a deep breath. Once my features had returned to normal, I looked at my new friends.
"We're going to be late to Herbology," I said calmly, amused at their mixed expressions of shock, horror, and obedience. Turning to my old friends (and the one annoyance), I smiled with my fangs. "You lot are going to behave and be nice, or I am going to be very, very angry – understood?"
I received a group of silent head nods in return.
"Great," I said cheerfully, clapping my hands together. "Now that that's settled, let's all go about our day like civilized witches and wizards, yeah?"
"I'll see you in Care of Magical Creatures, right?" asked Daphne, the first to recover. Her eyes were darting all about, and I just knew that those devious little cogs in her brain were working overtime.
"Yeah, see you in a bit," I replied, pecking her cheek. "Draco? We're good?"
"Yes," he said, before pausing. Striding forward, he pulled me in a tight hug that lasted much longer than it needed to. As we pulled apart and both turned back to our own housemates, the expression on Harry's face let me know that Draco knew exactly what he was doing.
"That sure was…something," said Elizabeth, the first to break the silence as we headed down into the entrance hall.
"Look," I said, coming to an abrupt halt and rounding on them. "Of course Daphne knows, as does Neville and Draco and you're likely to find out soon anyway – it's not much of a secret, but I am a Lycan. Both of my parents come from ancient Lycan bloodlines, but while my father's line, the Greys, tended to keep breeding within our community, the Wildes often interbred with powerful wizarding lines. There's a lot I could tell you about us, but not right now. We're similar to werewolves, but there are a lot of key differences – the most important being that we turn at will; we're not forced to turn on the full moon."
"That's awesome," said Elizabeth, the first to speak, punching my shoulder surprisingly hard.
"There's not much known about Lycan," said Hermione, utterly intrigued, "But from what I've read, your kind are extremely fascinating."
"So is – is Daphne like – like you?" asked Ron tentatively.
"No, the trait skipped her mother, and most likely Daphne and her little sister Astoria, too," I said, continuing our journey out onto the grounds. "Sometimes it's a little hard to control my temper, and you'll notice that I have more… abilities than the average human, but I promise I wouldn't hurt any of you."
"I haven't been maimed yet," said Neville, laughing and ducking my swat.
And that was that.
Despite the heavy turn our conversation had gone, the entire class was in high spirits, even as Professor Sprout introduced us to the ugliest plants I'd ever seen. They looked less like plants and more like thick, black giant slugs protruding vertically out of the soil.
Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid. "Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told us briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus –"
"The what?" said Seamus Finnigan, sounding revolted.
"Pus, Finnigan, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."
We broke up into groups after that. While I sent Neville to work with Harry and Ron, I grabbed Hermione and Elizabeth to make a group, and we set about squeezing the bubotubers for their pus. We talked quietly throughout the class period and I was pleased to learn that we were much more alike than I might've originally imagined. It was startling and brilliant to recognize that these two were intelligent, thoughtful, cautious individuals. Women such as these, who reminded me of the very best traits my mother possessed and instilled in me, were bound to be invaluable friends, and allies. Also, despite our very different upbringings, Elizabeth and I held many of the same values, and we'd even begun to exchange notes and tips on our training techniques.
"Any particular reason you've been isolating yourself since first year," I asked suddenly, squeezing a particularly fat bubotuber.
"Well, they didn't try very hard after the first week or so," Elizabeth replied calmly, no hint of accusation or bitterness in her tone, though Hermione's face immediately went red. "But I suppose I'm used to mostly being on my own, and once they started leaving me to my own devices, I settled back into the habit. Hermione gravitated towards those two after a few weeks," she gestured to Harry and Ron, who were playfully threatening each other with half-squeezed bubotubers, "and Lavender and Parvati were best friends by the end of the Welcoming Feast. No offense, but I'd rather not be stuck between those two airheads anyway – sharing a dorm has been more than enough bonding time for me."
We shared a small smile.
"Elizabeth, we didn't –"
"Don't worry about it, Hermione," said Elizabeth quickly.
"Siblings?" I pressed as we continued our work.
"Twin brothers, third year Gryffindors – my parents were pretty old when they had us. They were ecstatic to get those two menaces out of the house for most of the year," she laughed fondly.
"Thai?"
"Cambodian," she smiled proudly, the first true, full smile I'd seen from her, "The twins and I were born here in wizarding Britain, but our parents are from a small village in the south, close to the sea." She eyed me closely. "You're pretty tan to be English."
"My family moved around a lot – spent more time abroad than here honestly," I explained slowly. "We'd been living in Spain the past couple years before – before my mother died."
"Don't take offense –"
"I don't offend easily," I interjected as we sealed another bottle of pus.
"Are you a natural redhead?" she grinned, her eyes roving over my curls.
Hermione nearly dropped her bubotuber right then, though a small smile was on her face.
"Believe it or not, yes," I giggled, having answered the same question hundreds of times. "My father's hair is a slightly darker shade of red – nasty shock when mother pushed me out, thought my head was bleeding. My mother and her twin sister, Daphne's mum, both have the same black hair that Daphne and her sister have."
"No siblings then? I heard about… everything," Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You'll learn that nothing stays a secret very long in this castle and the second you got here last night, the stories started flowing. Sorry."
"I can't say it was unexpected," I sighed, "but yes, I'm an only child. Always wanted a little brother though."
Elizabeth snorted. "Keep mine for a summer and I promise you'll change your mind."
Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. We filled bottle after bottle as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson, had collected several pints.
"This will keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stopping the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus; hopefully it'll stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."
"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff in our year, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."
"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end."
A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and our classes separated. The Hufflepuffs headed up the stone steps for Transfiguration, while we went in the opposite direction, down the sloping lawns towards the Groundskeeper's cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of an enormous black boarhound. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and the dog was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely. As we drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached our ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions.
"Mornin'!" said Hagrid, beaming around at the class but saving an extra special smile for Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He happened to notice me standing with them, close to Hermione's left with Elizabeth on my left.
Hermione must've noticed his confusion because she dragged me forward by the arm. I swear I heard Elizabeth snort behind me. "Oh Hagrid, this is Gia! She was sorted into Gryffindor last night. Gia, this is Professor Hagrid," she said proudly.
Hagrid smiled kindly down at me and covered nearly my entire arm in his gentle grasp as we shook hands. I took an immediate liking to his sincere face. "Hello Professor Hagrid, it's a pleasure to be in your class," I said politely.
"Be'er wait fer the Slytherins, they won' want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!"
"Come again?" said Ron. Hagrid pointed down into the crates.
"And the fun begins – welcome to Hogwarts, Wilde," murmured Elizabeth.
"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender only a moment later, jumping backward away from the crates. I found that her reaction was warranted.
The Blast-Ended Skrewts look like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches.
"Only jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"
"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice. The Slytherins had arrived, and the speaker was Draco. Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.
"Don't think I won't hex you in class," I hissed as he came to stand beside me, the other Slytherins filling in the space on his other side, opposite my Gryffindor friends.
"Ruin all my fun on your first day, eh?" he murmured back, running a hand over his perfectly coifed hair.
"Tha's next lesson, Malfoy. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today," Hagrid said, in a very matter-of-fact sort of way. "Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things – I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer – I got ant eggs an' frog livers an'a bit o' grass snake – just try 'em out with a bit of each."
"First pus and now this," muttered Seamus.
Nothing but deep affection for Hagrid could have made Harry, Ron, and Hermione pick up squelchy handfuls of frog liver and lower them into the crates to tempt the Blast-Ended Skrewts. I agreed with Draco, however. I couldn't suppress the suspicion that the whole thing was entirely pointless, because the skrewts didn't seem to have mouths.
"Ouch!" yelled Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me."
Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious. "Its end exploded!" said Dean angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.
"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.
"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"
"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically. Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box. "I reckon they're the males..."
The rest of class was spent rather eventfully, but thankfully none of us were seriously harmed. As half the class used sticks to push the skrewts that were attempting to climb over the edge of the box back into it, Draco leaned over and whispered, "We need to talk."
"You bet your arse we do," I said, shooting him a dark look. "Mind telling me why you're acting like everything you claimed to hate the last time we spoke?"
His expression quelled my anger before it even got fired up. "Can you just meet me tonight? In the entrance hall after dinner? Please?" he said, nearly pleading.
"I'll be there."
As the Slytherins and Gryffindors separated outside the Great Hall, I met Draco's eye and gave him one last nod to let him know we had a plan. To my delight, Elizabeth continued to stick around and sat on my left, with Hermione on my right, while Neville sat across the table from us with Harry and Ron. We all helped ourselves to lamb chops and potatoes, but Hermione began to eat so fast that we all paused to stare at her.
"I thought I was the wild animal," I said jokingly, my fork paused over my plate.
"Err, is this the new stand on elf rights?" said Ron. "You're going to make yourself puke instead?"
"No," said Hermione, with as much dignity as she could muster with her mouth bulging with sprouts. "I just want to get to the library."
"What?" said Ron in disbelief. "Hermione – it's the first day back! We haven't even got homework yet!"
Hermione shrugged and continued to shovel down her food as though she had not eaten for days. Then she leapt to her feet, said, "See you at dinner!" and departed at high speed.
I didn't bother to ask, and shook my head when Harry looked ready to launch into an explanation. "I'm sure I'll find out all about it later," I said, shaking my head with a grin, "Besides, the bell's about to ring."
Sure enough, only a second later, the bell to signal the start of afternoon classes rang, and the boys looked at me in amazement.
"Are you sure you don't belong in Divination?" Ron asked, as he and the others gathered their things.
"Self-study?" asked Harry.
"I've got training to do, wonder boy," I said, waggling my fingers. "Maybe you'll be able to join me soon."
I watched them retreat, Elizabeth walking off with them, and let out a deep breath, my first moment alone since waking up that morning. I certainly didn't mind the company and the quick development of friendship, despite the odd standoff with the Slytherins earlier, but the constant companionship would take some getting used to.
Hurrying up to the Gryffindor Tower, I changed into black spandex shorts and a sports bra, along with plain black trainers. I wound my braid around and secured it into a bun, grabbed my wand, and left the Tower, nearly sprinting down to one of the exits on the first floor. The moment I felt the wind on my skin, I felt alive and took off at a light jog away from the castle and towards the sound of running water. Soon enough, the vast expanse of the Black Lake came into view and I paused beside it, only long enough to stretch a bit. Starting off with a jog off the right side of the lake, after about fifteen minutes, I kicked it up to a run. After about a mile, I stepped into a full-blown sprint, finally allowing myself to let loose since I was mostly out of view of the castle – at least too far for a human eye to see me. Pushing myself a bit faster, I was nearly a blur and I hadn't even broken a sweat yet. My heartbeat had only risen the slightest bit and I could probably carry a full conversation if I wasn't alone out there. After about an hour of this, I found a quiet spot near a cliff and conjured up some wooden dummies, using a spell my mother taught me to animate them. Surrounding myself with four human-sized dummies, I activated the spell and set about defending myself from multiple attackers. After I'd thoroughly decimated all of them, I went through a few acrobatic tricks that one of my trainers, Jax, had taught me and then conjured some weights to lift.
By the time I'd finished, I was dripping with sweat but thoroughly satisfied with the work I'd done for the day. I was particularly pleased that I hadn't allowed the sudden change in my schedule and environment to interrupt my training, and found myself smiling as I ran back to the castle. I had about thirty minutes before dinner started but found the dorm and showers vacant as I went to shower off my workout. With a few minutes left to spare, I hurried down to the library and waited outside for Hermione to come out, thinking it would be a pleasant surprise. However, when the bell would ring in five minutes, I went inside – only to find her surrounded by a fort of books, all seemingly on the subject of house-elves and magical creature rights.
"I tried to drag her away," said Elizabeth, throwing up her hands. "We've been in here since class ended."
Despite her protests, I sent all the books back to their rightful places with a spell and dragged her from the library. She was still moaning and groaning when we caught up to the boys, joining them on the walk down to dinner.
"Miserable old bat," said Ron bitterly. "That'll take all weekend that will…"
"Lots of homework?" said Hermione brightly. "Professor Vector didn't give us any at all!"
"Well, bully for Professor Vector," said Ron moodily.
During dinner, Daphne had stopped by the table to greet me, though I had a feeling it was more so that she could clearly establish herself as my closest acquaintance and confident within the castle in front of the others than anything else. Elizabeth had pointed out her brothers, about fifteen spaces down the table – two identical boys sat amongst their friends. They looked as much like Elizabeth as they did each other – same flawless, brown skin – same high cheekbones and dark eyes – same long, thick black hair, though theirs were pulled up into identical tight buns. They seemed to be regaling their group of friends with some hilarious tale, because all of the third years around them, Ron's little sister Ginny included, were laughing their heads off, pounding the table. They must've felt their older sister's eyes on them because they turned our way at the same time and sent her twin, mischievous smiles.
My chest froze as I noticed two pairs of slightly lengthened sharp canine teeth.
Bloody hell – there was absolutely no way…
"…drive me absolutely barmy! You'll change your mind about wanting a little brother soon enough, I promise you," continued Elizabeth, laughing fondly.
Loads of people were born with slightly longer teeth – it didn't mean anything. I even attempted to stretch out my senses and get a better feel for Elizabeth's aura, and though she certainly had an impressive well of magic inside of her and that same…almost catlike, deadly aura around her, I couldn't sense the same energy that surrounded my people.
Whatever mysterious powers she and her brothers held, they weren't Lycan for sure.
As dinner continued, Elizabeth and I were both able to relax more around the other Gryffindors. We were even properly introduced to Seamus, who seemed to have a bad habit of blowing up anything he touched, whether flammable or not, and Dean, who had an amazing talent as an artist. I was pleased that everyone tried to include Elizabeth and me in their conversations, and the meal passed by swimmingly. My mind and eyes continued to wander between her and her brothers, and I quickly learned that the boys were as perceptive as their sister as they caught me staring more than once, and finally sent twin flirtatious winks in my direction the last time. I learned that their names were Elias and Ezra.
When dinner had ended, I headed back up to Gryffindor Tower with the others, but excused myself after a few minutes, stating that I needed a moment alone. The time after dinner was typically spent in one's common room and so the corridors were completely deserted, but the moment I started down the dark hall, something happened.
The temperature in the corridor dropped dramatically, and a spiderweb of frost crept across the windows to my right. Within seconds, my breaths came out in visible, white puffs. At the opposite end of the corridor, the shadows in the corner darkened. In fact, the closer I crept, the more they seemed to deepen and grow, twisting in on itself.
Find it…
"What the –" I gasped, tensing as I flicked my wand into my right hand. "Who said that? Show yourself?"
Even with my nose raised in the air, I couldn't catch a fresh scent, at least not one that stood out or seemed strange.
It will be useful to you, girl…
I spun around, facing the way I'd come.
There was no one there.
"But… that's not…" I sputtered, my fingers trembling. I could've sworn that faint, male voice was just behind me. I felt its breath on my skin…
Find it!
Suddenly, my eyes shone so bright that the portraits on the walls, whom had been watching me suspiciously and concernedly, had to shield their eyes and turn away. A vibration started at the bottom of my feet and rose upwards through my legs, and then throughout the rest of my body. The pulsing glow of my eyes sped up. I was nearly lifted off my feet with the force of the magic welling up inside of me. A strange… nudge lurched in my gut and I took a forced step forward, bewildered by the entire event.
I was nudged forward again – this time much more insistently.
Turning the corner, I moved over to a wide, open window that bathed the entire section of the corridor in soft moonlight. Stepping before the opening, the instant rush of power that raged through my body was almost staggering as the iridescent glow washed over me. Slowly, I flexed my rigid, constant control over my primal energies and allowed the senses of my ancestors to enlighten me and help guide to me wherever I was supposed to be. Having grown up under the watchful eye of my mother, blessed with the Sight, I knew better than most how to read signs – I knew that everything happened for a reason.
My hair curled as an invisible wind began to stir, entirely magical in its nature. My fingernails grew long and sharp, changing from their normal, manicured appearance to obsidian black claws. I turned away from the window and my senses stretched far beyond what was normal. I could almost see the incredibly intricate and interwoven web of magic that spread throughout every inch, nook, and cranny of the castle, all in my mind's eye. As I breathed deeply, centuries' old scents…emotions…magical signatures come and gone came to me. There were several particularly strong and noticeable strands of magic that branched off into the castle's depths. I suspected that they belonged to the strongest magical presences in these walls.
My heart thundered in my ears and I reached out with my magic, merging with the forces acting from within my core. Seconds passed…
And then I had taken off at a blurred sprint, caution be damned, straight down the center of the corridor. My heart soared and exploded with pure love; my pulse positively raced – I would know that magical signature better than my own. As I ran, I naturally fell on all fours and nearly destroyed the stone floors with the force of my strides.
But I was so close – YES, so close!
My sprint took me to the farthest end of the seventh floor and around a corner that I was certain had not been there before. I was further than anyone had gone in recent years, judging from the lack of active magic in the area and the presence of layered dust everywhere. But her scent – her magic…it was strongest here. I had turned onto a short hallway that ended at a dead end but my eye's light pulsed stronger and brighter than ever before. Standing upright, I paced the hall repeated, tapping random stones in the wall and even casting revealing charms, but nothing appeared before me.
Finally, I walked the full length of the short hall and reached out a hand to touch the smooth stone –
"Huh –" I gasped; my hand disappeared through the wall up to my wrist and came in contact with what felt like a painted canvas.
Feeling around, it felt like an incredibly large portrait and the innate magic let me know that it was similar to the magic imbued within the Fat Lady. There was something here. On impulse, I raised my left hand and made a fist, pressing the face of my signet ring against the canvas – in an instant, I came face to face with the portrait's inhabitant.
She was…beyond beautiful – supernaturally so. Her pearl-white hair flowed mysteriously and swayed with such a fluid ease, any Veela would be envious. Her pale blue skin had the appearance of moving water, but it was her eyes – they were familiar.
She seemed to be sitting in jade-green grass at the edge of a pond; the backdrop was of a beautiful and clearly enchanted forest, and a waterfall crashed silently from nearby, feeding into the pond and sending ripples across its surface. The rich, natural colors took my breath away and I had to stop myself from reaching out to see if I could simply step into this beautiful scene. The most eye-catching feature of all, however, was undoubtedly the two large, multi-colored faery wings that protruded from the girl's back and shimmered a different palette each time she shifted her petite body.
When our eyes met, I felt as though my soul had been borne before her to peruse at her leisure, and I found that I didn't enjoy feeling so vulnerable. My senses faded back to normal, and the thrum of magic dimmed and retreated into my core. I felt my chin lift slightly as the faery leveled its gaze on me.
"It has been quite some time since my portrait has been discovered, young Lycan," the faery spoke, her voice the most beautiful and alluring sound I had ever heard in my life. She smiled suddenly, two small fangs peeking out from under her lips. "You are very powerful – I can feel it, even now that you look like a mortal girl – but I'd expect nothing less from her daughter."
My eyes snapped to hers. "Do you mean Ava Wilde? Did you know my mother?" I asked quickly, almost desperately.
At the sound of my mother's name, the girl's eyes brightened, almost glowing through the canvas. "Yes, of course!" she exclaimed, briefly lifting off the grass as her wings fluttered excitedly. "Only a true heir could be led to this place, let alone reveal its hidden location. Hundreds of mortals and magicals have tried over the centuries, but only those of the original bloodline may find me."
Understanding finally dawned and stories from my mother's school years flooded my mind. "So this – this is the East Tower?" I whispered reverently, my fingers grazing the shining golden frame that held the faery. "This is where…my mom lived when she was a student here. She told so many stories about this place – about the things she and her friends got into here but, but I never thought I'd get the chance…"
"It is your birthright!" the faery said fiercely, seeming almost angry at the thought of an heir being denied this secret pleasure. "Your ancestors sacrificed a lot so that their heirs may have a place of ultimate privacy and protection. Now," she said grandly, "step forward and enter your new home, heir."
A shiny, golden door handle appeared along the left side of the frame. I grasped it and then paused.
"What's your name?" I asked tentatively.
"Elena," she replied, grinning amusedly.
"Gia," I said before yanking open the portrait and quickly slipping into the darkness beyond it.
Inhaling deeply, the most beautiful and wonderful scent filled my nose – my mother's scent was all over the place. Holding my hands in a ball in front of me, I focused and watched as a ball of light grew between my palms and floated up into the air. Wizard's light – the most basic and simple form of controlled magic that most wizard-born children learn. Creating a few more spheres of light and sending them out, I was surprised that there were no spider webs, mold, or other signs of disuse. In fact, the black marble steps seemed to have been polished recently, and I peered down at my distorted reflection as I climbed them.
The staircase wound up in a spiral, and at the top of about twenty steps was a plain black door with the Wilde family crest upon it. I paused before the crest and peered closely at it, taking in the woman's head with two blank faces, one white and the other black, surrounded by a circle of ancient symbols – the two-faced goddess, a symbol of balance between light and dark. There was no doorknob or handle, but as I reached out and placed my fingers against the smooth surface, it swung open without a sound.
The moment I stepped into the room, a fire in an enormous fireplace off to the right sprang to life, bringing light and a wave of warmth throughout the place. The common room was a giant circle; the first thing I noticed was that the entire left half of the room was made of glass. It was a long, high, curved window overlooking a section of the Black Lake that was partially hidden by the high cliff that Hogwarts was perched upon. The next thing I noticed was that the ceiling had the same enchantment as the Great Hall and currently looked like the starry, night sky, complete with a glowing moon hanging overhead.
The common room was decorated with mostly glass and soft grey and white furniture; couches, armchairs, and even two large chaise lounges were spread out, along with a few glass tables, a wall with a full bookshelf, and an expensive rug that covered a majority of the shining marble floor. Directly across from the entrance was a grand staircase that led up to the second level; a white marble banister protected the walkway that circled the entire common room, all the way back around to the entrance. On either side of the double doors were other closed doors that I assumed led to dorms; there had to have been at least twenty rooms, ten on each side, with the double doors making it twenty-one all together.
As I took in the glowing moon overhead, I finally came to my senses. "Tempus!"
It had already been forty minutes since dinner ended.
Turning on my heels, I started racing back towards the entrance before I remembered who and what I was. Centering my magic, I gathered up a swirl of black wisps around me, until I was completely covered in them, and disappeared from East Tower without a sound, reappearing in a dark corner beside the Great Hall. Tiptoeing past the doors, I couldn't help but pause. It was quite a difference to see the enormous space at night, illuminated not by thousands of candles, but by moonlight. It was almost mesmerizing, to see the grand space bathed under the moon but I shook off the thought and ran to the entrance hall. Pausing at the top of the staircase, I looked around but saw nothing.
"Damn…" I sighed, clenching my fist as Draco was nowhere in sight.
Even with the behavior that I'd witness that day, I had to know what was going on with Draco. Inhaling deeply, his scent was strong. I figured that he must've left only moments ago.
"He probably thinks I'm furious with him…" I muttered, mentally berating myself for allowing myself to lose track of time so easily.
"I did...until I saw you show up a second ago," a quiet whisper reached me, and Draco stepped out from behind a suit of armor. "I thought…you weren't going to come."
His silver-blonde hair nearly glowed in the darkness of the entrance hall, and he was still dressed in his school uniform. Hands in his pockets, he walked closer to me, and as we met at the base of the stairs, I could more clearly the wide range of emotions in his eyes.
It still amazed me how much he'd physically changed in only a few years. It took longer than I would've liked to stop staring and drinking in his features.
"Of course I was going to show up, Draco. I had to find out why you're suddenly acting like your father's evil twin," I said quietly, unaccusingly.
Shame written all over his face, Draco looked down.
"You don't understand, Gia," He whispered, not looking at me.
Slowly, I closed the distance between us and gently lifted his chin until he was forced to look me in the eye. "Then help me understand Dray, because this isn't the friend that I used to know."
Draco pulled his face out of my hand, and his eyes flared angrily. "That little boy is gone, Giavana, and he's never coming back. He can't…" his voice softened again and he shook his head. "Not after everything that's happened…"
I heard Draco take a deep shuddering breath, and suddenly pulled the taller boy to me, wrapping my arms firmly around his waist. He stiffened. "After what, Dray? You know you can tell me anything. You said things were okay…when I asked at the funeral, but you were lying. I knew you were."
Slowly, very slowly, he brought his arms up and held onto me as if he were a drowning man, and I was his lifejacket. "You remember how father was when we were kids…" he began, and I shuddered remembering some of Malfoy Sr.'s worst moments. "Well, it certainly didn't get any better after you and your parents went traveling the world. It got worse – much worse. Hell couldn't even begin to describe what it was like being trapped in the manor with him, and even Mother could no longer protect me. Merlin, she could barely protect herself."
I held him tighter as his body began trembling. "The things he said and did to us…I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, Gia. I felt so weak and helpless… He did…horrible – terrifying things to us…"
I couldn't contain my horror, and now, both of our heartbeats thundered in my ears. "Draco…"
"I wanted to protect her – I tried, but it only got worse. No matter what… I could never measure up to be the heir he always wanted me to be," said Draco bitterly. "I was never cold enough – strong enough. I had questioned his superiority complex too many times, and he lectured me on all the ways muggles and muggleborns were beneath us as he –"
"I –" I started before cutting myself off, allowing him to continue though I dreaded hearing the rest.
"It got worse once I came to Hogwarts. I tried so hard to be the best at everything, but I just never could. Granger was always top student in academics, Potter constantly bested me in Quidditch, I couldn't do anything right and Father made sure to punish me for it." Draco took another shuddering breath. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't seem to find the words.
"Draco, I –"
"I need you to change me, Gia," he said suddenly, looking me directly in the eye. His eyes like molten silver – they were hard to look at.
"What?" I asked, hissing in shock.
"I need you to give me the bite – to change me," he said, much more insistently. "If – if I'm a Lycan, I'll be stronger – faster – more lethal. He couldn't hurt me or mother. I could – I could kill him with hardly any effort at all!"
"Draco, I… I can't," I whispered, my eyes welling up at the betrayal in his eyes.
"Why not?" he spat, taking a step back. "You think I can't do it? I can't challenge him?"
"Because there are rules, Draco! Laws! I can't just go changing anyone I want for just any reason!" I shot back, quietly as our voices echoed in the empty chamber. "And I'll not change you just so you can become a cold-blooded murderer and get yourself chucked into Azkaban!"
"Then what am I supposed to do, Gia? Huh? You tell me how I'm – supposed to – protect us…" he'd broken down in sobs.
I lurched forward and pulled him back into my arms, holding him up as he fell apart. It was well beyond curfew by then, and we were standing out in the openness of the entrance hall. Any wandering ghost or patrolling professor could see us if they passed by. I would not leave Draco alone in his current condition – I couldn't bring myself to if I tried.
Decision made, I wrapped Draco and myself in wispy shadows and we disappeared into the darkness.