Avery's hopes of making her fourth year at Hogwarts far better than her third were off to a rocky beginning from the minute her feet swang off her four poster bed and rested on the floor. Marilyn was, of course, still her dorm mate, and Avery couldn't help but notice her icy stare, even if she hadn't yet rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.
"Can I help you?" Avery mumbled sleepily. She had previously been determined to ignore Marilyn completely, but her tiredness seemed to have dis-inhibited her in that moment, and her agitation was made evident.
"How was your summer?" Marilyn asked coolly as she finally looked away from Avery to pull on her neatly pressed socks. Avery stared at her, bemused.
"What do you care? Last I checked we weren't speaking," Avery finally said, surveying her former friend with a look of distrust. Marilyn continued to focus on her feet while she responded.
"I was just thinking that maybe you'd had time to think about that over the summer. You know, reevaluate where your loyalties lie." Marilyn had emphasized the last few words of her sentence heavily, and Avery understood immediately what she had meant.
"You know exactly where they lie, so don't bother staring at me while I sleep any longer. Nothing is going to change my mind," Avery scoffed, pushing herself up and off the bed so that she could pull her robes out of her trunk and ready herself for the day.
"If you want to go the way of Felix, then so be it," she heard Marilyn mutter behind her. Avery rounded on her instantly.
"You're disgusting," she blurted out. White hot anger boiled in her chest at Marilyn's loaded mention of Avery's cousin- she wanted to say something cutting. She wanted to destroy Marilyn in that moment, but those were the only feeble words that tumbled out of her mouth. For a split second she considered grabbing her wand- maybe it could cut where her words had not. But Marilyn smirked, clearly not wounded by Avery's words, and traipsed out of the dormitory, leaving Avery fuming in her paisley pajamas.
Breakfast was perhaps an improvement, if loneliness could be considered better. She sat at the Hufflepuff table, several empty seats on either side of her, eating some cereal and surveying her class schedule. The other students around her were greeting each other and swapping stories of their summers, happy to be back among friends. But Avery didn't have any friends to have these exchanges with. Or, at least it didn't feel that way in this particular moment. She and Marilyn used to be so close, she scarcely needed another person to turn to. Then she had come to rely on Fred and George. But now she had not a semblance of a relationship with any of them, so all she really felt she had were acquaintances. She was comfortable talking to a handful of people who had regularly taken advantage of her services, of course, and Anne would occasionally go out of her way to engage Avery, but these hardly constituted real friendships in Avery's opinion. And this harsh realization while she was surrounded by the excited chattering of her classmates, who all seemed to be flush with friendships, was enough to put her off her corn flakes.
Her first class of the day was also a disappointment. Avery was not particularly fond of Herbology on the best of days, and in their first lesson they were assigned the odorous task of collecting bubotuber pus.
"Collect the what?" Avery heard Gryffindor Seamus Finnigan cry. He looked revolted, mirroring Avery's attitude.
"Pus, Finnigan, pus," Professor Sprout said in response, waving his obvious abhorrence away. "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."
Unfortunately for Avery, she had been distracted when Sprout had given them this tidbit, and got the undiluted pus on her hand, causing it to bubble up in a greenish blister. Sprout had no sympathy for Avery when she alerted the professor of the problem.
"Weren't listening, I suppose?" Sprout tutted, looking at Avery's rather menacing looking blisters. Avery swore she could hear Marilyn and a few others sniggering behind her. "Luckily I have some ointment here, but you would do well to work harder and pay more attention in my class, Miss Stone." Professor Sprout gave her a withering look before she slathered Avery's hand in a gloopy purple paste, a smarting sensation in her hand adding to her smarting ego.
Perhaps worst of all, however, was her Defense Against the Dark Arts class later that day with the Slytherins. She had been dreading this lesson since she had received the news a few weeks previously from her mother that Mad-Eye Moody would be their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Discovering that morning that the lesson was with the Slytherins had only heightened her sense of foreboding. She walked into the class that afternoon early, taking a seat in the far back corner. She hoped that claiming this seat would keep her out of the spotlight; or, that if Moody didn't have enough tact to leave her alone, that her not being as easily visible might at least keep him from attacking her consistently.
Other students filtered into the classroom, and Avery soon found herself surrounded by fellow Hufflepuffs, including Hannah Abbott, Ernie MacMillan, and Justin Finch-Fletchley. The Slytherins congregated on the opposite side of the classroom, and Marilyn, Avery noticed, sat on the border of the two groups. Soon they heard Moody's distinctive, clunking footsteps coming down the passageway toward their classroom. He entered the room, and Avery heard mutterings from some students around her, speculating how he had become so disfigured. He had a twisted, scarred face, and a large chunk of his nose was missing. He was also missing one eye, which had been replaced with a magical eye, which swiveled disconcertingly in every which way. Finally, he had a rough-hewn wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.
"You can put your books away," he growled, "you won't need them."
Those who had taken out their texts put them away, muttering excitedly.
Moody took a class register out of his robes and began to read off the names of the students, his normal eye moving down the list as he went, his magical eye swiveling to each of the students as they confirmed their presence. Avery couldn't help but notice there were a few names on which he seemed to hesitate.
"Crabbe... Jugson… Gregory… Malfoy… Nott…"
Avery also noticed that though he paused, he didn't seem to do much else in regards to those students. He didn't interrogate them regarding their parents being suspected of being Death Eaters. He didn't comment on his arresting them or baring witness to their trials. And she was relieved. Surely if he did not put any of them on the spot, he would not single her out. However, she was wrong.
"Stone," he said, his magical eye landing on her as she called out that she was present. "You don't go by Rosier, then?" he asked, both eyes now fixed on her, unblinkingly. Avery bristled at the sound of the name.
"Obviously not, or… or that would be the name on the register," Avery stammered, her words much braver than she felt. She felt several pairs of non-magical eyes swiveling in her direction now. Most of which she was sure were confused as to why she was being interrogated about her surname. Some, she was equally sure, understood the significance.
"That's right, your mum remarried, didn't she?" Moody said with an air of someone who had just remembered something obvious, though Avery was sure he had never forgotten.
"When I was two, Professor. I've never gone by… by any other name," Avery said. Moody sniffed loudly with what was left of his nose before he finally looked back down at his roll of parchment and, without another word, continued to call out the students names.
Avery was hot with irritation, looking down at her desk to avoid the gaze of any students who were still lingering on her. She should have known that she would not be so lucky as to escape Moody's wrath- the other students may have had Death Eaters for parents, but Avery was the only one who had a Death Eater for a parent who was at least partially responsible for Moody's mutilation.
Avery's father was Evan Rosier, a known Death Eater who was killed by Moody, though not before taking a bit of Moody's nose with him in a duel about a year after the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Moody had attempted to arrest Evan, but he refused to come quietly or renounce the Dark Lord, and so he fought and died for his master. Avery's mother, Lyla, was also accused of being a Death Eater. She, unlike her father, denied any affiliation vehemently. She claimed that she didn't even know her husband was involved in the dark arts, and would never have condoned it if she had. Due to her clout at the ministry, what with working in the Improper Use of Magic office, and with no concrete evidence to the contrary, Lyla was dismissed of all charges. She married another ministry worker named Ezra Stone a year later, when Avery was two years old. Avery had never known her biological father, and considered Ezra to be her real father. For that reason, and to avoid the association with dark wizards, Avery continued to go by Ezra's surname instead of Rosier.
When Avery finally looked back up from her desk, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Marilyn was looking at her. She thought of Marilyn's mention of her cousin, Felix Rosier, that morning, and found herself feeling even more furious and anxious. She did not look at Marilyn, but focused on Moody, trying to shake off her feeling of bitterness and resentment. But his lesson did little to distract Avery from her family history and the catastrophe it had caused, as Moody had decided their first lesson would be on Unforgivable Curses. Demonstrating on spiders, Avery swore that Moody was shooting dark looks to all the students whose parents he had known to be Death Eaters, probably trying to gauge their reactions. The Slytherin students whose names he had hesitated on were very interested indeed, if not downright excited. She, however, focused on looking impassive throughout the lesson, even though watching the curses being performed made her skin crawl.
By the time the lesson was over, Avery was furious as well as exhausted from trying to hide her fury. It was time for dinner in the Great Hall, but the idea of heading down just then set her even more on edge. She didn't want to see Marilyn, the Slytherins she's had class with, the twins, or Moody. She needed a minute to breathe. So, on her way down the stairs from the third floor, she stopped on the second floor. After a few minutes of brushing past all the other students exiting their classes and filing down the stairs towards dinner, she found an empty classroom and slipped inside. She collapsed into a chair and dropped her bag on the floor, laying her head on her folded arms on the desk. She was taking measured breaths, in through her nose, and out through her mouth.
You are a metamorphmagus. You are whoever you want to be. You are not defined by who your parents are, what they do or what they've done. she thought. It was a familiar sort of chant she often whispered to herself, or let play like a broken record in her head.
You are a metamorphmagus. You are whoever you want to be. You are not defined by who your parents are, what they do or what they've done. You have chosen to be like Felix. You are a metamorphmagus. You are whoever you want to be. You are not defined by-
Avery heard the click of the door opening behind her, and lifted her head to look around and see who had entered. It was George Weasley. He had slipped in and quietly closed the door behind him, so that they were alone in the dimly lit classroom. Like his brother, he was just as handsome as ever, though he did look like he was feeling a bit awkward in that moment. For some reason, Avery had never been quite as mad at George as she had been at Fred for the confunding. True, she knew and was furious that George was involved in the act and that he had manipulated her almost as much as Fred had, but Avery had somehow gotten the distinct impression that George was more contrite about it than Fred, and he had never exploded on her for destroying the snackboxes like Fred had. It was almost as if he didn't blame her.
They stared at each other wordlessly for a moment, before George muttered a greeting. Avery heaved a heavy sigh and rolled her eyes, folding her arms on the desk again.
"Honestly, George, I've had a rubbish day already and don't care to get into a row right now," she said.
"When then?" she heard him reply. She turned to gape at him, and saw her was wearing just a wisp of a smile.
"Are you saying you're like to schedule an argument with me?" Avery asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.
"Well, what's the alternative? Are we just going to hate each other the rest of our lives?"
"Well, I had counted on till the end of our Hogwarts careers at least."
"Come on, Avery," George moaned, taking a few steps nearer to her. "I mean, I understand why you're upset. What we did was terrible. We tried to tell you that over and over again last year- even offered to set it right with Diggory. We were caught up in the joke shop and it clouded our judgement. We felt terrible about it almost instantly. I mean, when we had to pull you back from the Whomping Willow, we realized just how much it meant to you. And, well…" he trailed off. Avery had put her head back down on her folded arms and shut her eyes, listening. Her mind was flooded with questions, and none of this was helping her temper.
"Would you say something?" George's voice came again, much softer now.
"I really don't want to deal with this right now," Avery said, her voice somewhat muffled.
"And I really don't want us to go on hating each other."
Avery heaved another sigh and sat up, but kept her eyes tightly closed. The questions she had be pondering over and over again since she first discovered their betrayal began to pour out of her. "Who came up with the idea? Why didn't you tell me when you realized how much it upset me? Why did you think it was okay to crush my hopes in order to further your own? Was our friendship real? Did Fred even like me?"
The questions spilled out of her so quickly, and it was on her last one that she finally opened her eyes, unable to keep in her tears hidden behind her eyelids any longer. She hastily wiped them away, hoping George hadn't seen. After a moment of silence, he took a seat at the desk nearest her, and sighed.
"Fred thought to confund you. I don't know that it really matters though, as I didn't object. We're both equally guilty… I think we were just… afraid. I mean, seeing you trying to chuck your broom into the Whomping Willow, we didn't know how you would react to the truth and I think we were afraid of losing your friendship. And your help with the business, too. I won't pretend it wasn't selfish," George said, looking at her solemnly. She had never seen him looking less jovial. He was very grave, indeed, as he pressed on. "We weren't thinking about it in terms of your dream versus ours. I don't reckon we really knew just how important it was to you. And I think… I think we are used to living in a world that only contains the two of us. Not that we don't think about others at all or anything, but… We can be selfish, sometimes, I suppose," he finished lamely. Avery looked away, not completely satisfied with his answer, but appreciating that he seemed to be genuine in his remorse.
"We really considered you a friend, though, Avery. Honest. Having you, not only as an investor, but as a friend was… Well, it meant a lot to me, anyway. As far as Fred, I think we should let him speak for himself. But I know that you had come to mean a lot to him, too."
"If that's true, then why did you betray me like that? And lie to me about it? For months?" she asked, but not aggressively. She really wanted to know. She really wanted to understand, and was hoping he had some sort of magic words that would help her forgive them.
"People make mistakes, Avery. They do stupid things when they're distracted... Do you reckon people can change?" George asked after a moment's pause. He had something like pleading in his eyes. "We would never do anything like that to you again."
Avery chuckled and sniffed. "I happen to believe that a person can be whoever or whatever they want to be… And, in this moment, I don't know that I want to be your friend. But, you're right. I don't want to go on hating you, either."
George looked like Christmas had come early for a moment before his expression clouded again. "So, you'll think about it then? Or…"
"I won't ignore you from here on out. But we can't just go back to before. We can be... acquaintances, for now."
"I'll take it," George said, beaming again. Avery gave him a weak smile in return. She still maintained the thought that their friendship would never again be what it once was, but she felt that there would certainly be no harm in having one or two fewer people to avoid.
Avery and George walked to the Great Hall together in silence. When they arrived, George left her side to go to his house table and take a seat with Fred and Lee Jordan. Avery tried to focus on finding a seat and selecting her dinner, although she was curious to see if George was telling Fred about their interaction and how Fred was reacting to the news. She wondered if he would find her sometime, like George had, and speak to her as genuinely as his twin. If he would really apologize and verbalize what their friendship, and their brief romance, had meant to him.
If he was going to though, it clearly wasn't going to be this evening. After Avery finished eating, she stood, hovering for a moment near her table, half hoping Fred would see her and follow her into the entrance hall, half rationalizing that it was unlikely he would approach her tonight. When she turned to stride out of the hall, she forced herself again not to look in his direction. Before she knew it, she was tapping the barrels to enter her common room, no one having followed or stopped her.
I'm sure he'll find me tomorrow or something Avery thought.
Upon entering the common room, she noticed several of her housemates milling around. Some were simply mingling. Others, it seemed, already had mountains of homework and were wearing frantic or pained expressions. Avery took a vacant seat near a plant she often harassed for help with Herbology and set to work on a short paper she had been assigned regarding bubotuber pus.
"Loads of assignments already?" she heard a familiar voice say from above her. She felt a swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach, before giving Cedric a nervous smile.
"Just the one paper, actually… Thank Merlin," Avery added, raising her eyebrows as she turned back to her parchment.
"Yeah? First day back go alright?" Cedric asked, taking a seat at her table. He seemed to sense something was off, judging by the searching look he was giving her. She bit her lip for a moment, debating exactly how honest she would be. Her knee-jerk reaction was to say something along the lines of "oh, it was fine" or "could've been better"- something non-committal, something vague. But surprising herself, she told him, "it was pretty dreadful, actually."
Cedric nodded, as though he already knew this would be her answer. "Want to talk about it?"
Avery sighed heavily, pursing her lips a little. "I dunno. Don't think it would be much help, really… I just… I was just really hoping this would be a good year, you know?" she said, meeting his eyes for a moment, and then quickly looking away. She felt a rush of adrenaline, like she had revealed too much somehow, even though she had said very little at all.
"Well, don't let one day ruin the whole year, then," Cedric replied, not unkindly. He had a sort of encouraging smile. Like she were a wounded animal he was trying to lure out of hiding so he could help it. Cedric seemed to be starting to say something when another sixth year Avery did not know called out to him from the other side of the common room.
"Oy! Diggory! Have a game of chess with me!"
"In a moment," Cedric called over his shoulder with a grin. Avery focused very hard on maintaining her own gap-toothed smile and not assuming Cedric's. He looked back at her. "I saw you were eating alone today… I know you haven't been friendly with the Weasley twins for a while now, and Marilyn... You know you're welcome to sit with me, don't you?"
"Uh, no, I didn't," Avery blurted out, slightly incredulous. She had never imagined he would invite her to join him at mealtimes. She quickly reasoned to herself that he was probably just being polite and that she would never attempt to take advantage of that offer.
"Of course. We're friends, aren't we?" Cedric asked, still smiling at her. She had to fight even harder to keep from mirroring it now.
"Right. Yeah. I mean… sure," she stammered uncomfortably, feeling her cheeks growing pink and then quickly focusing on keeping them their standard ivory color, hoping Cedric hadn't noticed.
"Well, keep that in mind in the future then, alright? Anyway, I better see to Frimley." Cedric made to stand, but Avery didn't want the conversation to end.
"Cedric?" She said. He met her eye and said "yeah?"
"Um… Do…. Do you reckon you'll enter your name? In the tournament, I mean?" Avery said, feeling quite stupid. She hadn't known what else to say. She simply didn't want to stop talking yet, and it was the first thing that popped into her head.
"Would a Hufflepuff winning the Triwizard Tournament make it a good year?" he asked, his eyes alight with excitement.
"Definitely," she said with a chuckle.
"Well, then I guess I'll just have to enter, won't I?" He gave her shoulder a warm squeeze, making her stomach fill with butterflies again, before he ambled off to play chess with Michael Frimley. Avery set back about her assignment, thinking the day had not been entirely rubbish, after all.
