PART ONE
CHAPTER TEN: GARDEN MARIGOLD
Reviews:
BabaLooWho: I know, right?
moonwatchersilveny: food is great, and a good motivator. That is a fact.
SiriusFangirl: thanks! Sirius is truly amazing, not gonna lie. You're right, and, well, you'll see.
Word count: 2,032
ONTO THE NEXT CHAPTER!
Sneaking out wasn't supposed to be easy. Raven knew this. But she didn't expect it to be this hard.
Earlier, Raven realized that Mary McDonald was less graceful than a newborn calf. With the combined efforts of her clumsiness and the magic that was everywhere at Hogwarts, she was a walking disaster. For example, Mary had a bad habit of tripping over completely flat floors. With the trick steps, she was even worse.
Lily was anxious. Even normally, anxiety wasn't the most productive thing in the world, but it was absolutely detrimental to secrecy. Every time something made a noise—be it the wind, one of the moving staircases, or even herself—she'd panic and start muttering apologies to Professor McGonagall. Why McGonagall? Raven wasn't sure.
(If they had to be caught, though, she hoped Alderton was the one who had the honor of doing so; he was dumb enough to fool easily.)
Marlene was, for all her prettiness, dumb, too. Well, maybe "dumb" wasn't the right adjective; it was more like... she couldn't control her tongue. Every time something happened—even if it wasn't particularly noteworthy—she'd comment on it. Although it was occasionally amusing, it was more annoying; silence was an important part of sneaking out.
And Hestia was... Actually, she was surprisingly good at sneaking out. Raven was seriously considering if she incorrectly labeled her as a goody-two-shoes.
Marlene's older sister, Elizabeth, had apparently told her that going to the kitchens in the middle of the night to celebrate something (anything, really; even the first week of the first year counted, apparently) wasn't uncommon. And so, after Marlene got the location of said kitchens from two redheaded twins in the second year (Fabian and Gideon Prewett, was it? Yes, of course it was; Raven had an impeccable memory, after all), they had set off to find the kitchens.
According to Marlene, it was near the Hufflepuff Common Room. Of course, Raven had no idea where the Hufflepuff Common Room was, but Marlene was weirdly liked, which meant that she had friends in Hufflepuff. Now, Raven wasn't the type to believe in stereotypes, but the Hufflepuffs she befriended must've been very gullible, because who tells someone they barely met a week ago where they sleep? (Better yet, who asks that?—but that was a question for another time.)
Finally, the five girls entered a corridor that was decorated with paintings of food. Marlene smirked triumphantly and sauntered forward, examining each piece of art like an extremely haughty critic. Finally, she stopped at a painting of fruit, reached out delicately, and... Was she tickling the pear?
Yes, Marlene was tickling a painted pear. Why exactly was someone so odd so popular?
But the painting swung open, revealing a room—the kitchens. Delicious smells wafted out, some familiar, some unrecognizable. Raven's mouth may or may not have watered a little.
Marlene grinned at Raven and the others and bowed with so much gusto, one would think that she designed that contraption herself, then said smugly, "After you, ladies."
Raven had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as Lily, Mary, and Hestia clapped.
The house elves inside guided them to some chairs, being overly polite as house elves tended to be. Raven found that her lips had tilted upwards as she watched them—although she wasn't particularly surprised. She had always had a soft spot for house elves, after all. They were very kind. Her favorite house elf, Fimmy, back at the Nightshade manor (there were three house elves serving the House of Nightshade) had always brewed her favorite tea for her whenever she was reading, without Raven having to ask. And then, when Raven had nothing else to do, she'd help Fimmy cook... Honestly, she missed her...
Raven was brought out of her reverie by the sound of something crashing—Mary's chair, that she had somehow knocked over. She smiled sheepishly.
Raven sighed. This was going to be a long night, wasn't it?
"That," Raven started, glaring viciously at the human-made monstrosity on the plate in front of her, "is disgusting. It looks like a sponge covered in bone paste. And this." She poked a yellow, triangular thing with her fork, already hating herself for contaminating it. "What is this? A tooth from the Cretaceous Period?"
Marlene rolled her stormy gray eyes, taking a bite of her own bone paste-covered sponge. "It's pineapple."
Raven brightened immediately. "Pineapple?" She had actually tried that before! It was probably the sweetest thing her tastebuds had ever had the pleasure of tasting—and Raven loved sweet things.
Then, she wrinkled her nose. "Why would someone ruin pineapple with bone paste?"
Marlene casually took another bite of the thing, like she wasn't eating what was probably the grossest thing on the planet. "Don't act like you've never seen cake or frosting before."
"...Cake...Frosting...?" Raven frowned. "I haven't even heard of it."
Marlene dropped her fork in shock.
"You haven't heard of cake or frosting before?" she demanded, setting her plate down. She was sitting next to Raven, so she wasn't naturally facing her, but she turned to do so. She leaned forward to look Raven properly in the eye. "What rock have you been living under?"
Raven scowled, recoiling backwards. "I'm not living under a rock," she muttered, wishing Marlene would stop acting like she was an idiot.
"A boulder, then." Marlene grabbed Raven's shoulders, shaking her like that would help her prove a point. "Everyone knows what cake is! And frosting! And—Wow, your skin is freezing. And now that I think about it, how is your skin so pale, too? It's not a bad thing—it's pretty—but it's weird."
Raven was not blushing with embarrassment at that. No. She would never.
At least, not to Marlene's knowledge...
Raven swatted her hands away. "You're an idiot," she grumbled.
Marlene wasn't bothered. "Yeah, you're right; I'm getting sidetracked. You have to try cake!"
"Have to?" Raven scoffed. "I refuse to be peer pressured, McKinnon. Try your tricks on someone else."
Marlene raised an eyebrow.
Raven glared.
Marlene raised her other eyebrow, too.
Raven continued glaring.
Marlene batted her eyelashes. "Come on. Please?"
...Raven did not melt. Of course not. She just maturely decided that this stare-down was stupid, and the easiest way out of it would be to comply.
Carefully, tentatively, she put her fork into the slice of cake.
Hating herself for being weak, she lifted the fork to her mouth.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
Dreading the future, she took the bite.
"...So?" Marlene prompted eagerly. "How is it?"
Raven sniffed back tears, abandoning all sense of pride. "It's... It's..."
"It's...?"
"...Perfect."
Marlene smirked. "Told you so."
"Y-You did."
"It's pineapple cake," Marlene informed. "It feels trite to say this, but there are many, many different types of cakes."
Raven wiped a tear from her cheek. "I've finally found the missing piece of my life."
Heartless didn't really have things as sweet as cake. The sweetest thing would be fruit—which was delicious, of course, but it wasn't cake. Cake was a slice of heaven.
"You know..." Marlene started suspiciously. "You seem different."
Was she different? Maybe. Raven had often been told that she's always different (good different) at night. She was livelier—happier, even—at night, whereas she was cold and intimidating and a bit of a burnout intellectual during the daytime. (Gray said it the most.)
She didn't see it though, but oh, well.
"Hey," Mary started (Raven had forgotten she existed since she hadn't broken anything in a while). "What do you think—Raven... Are you crying...?"
Raven sniffled again. "I suppose so."
"Are you all right?" Hestia's eyebrows crinkled with concern. "Did something happen?"
Raven nodded wordlessly. Marlene snickered.
"Did Marlene say something rude?" Lily asked.
"Hey!" Marlene protested. "I'd never do that. You ought to have more faith in me."
(She probably would've been more convincing if she wasn't smiling a huge crocodile grin.)
"Did she?" Lily pressed.
"N-No. Marlene is... wonderful. Perfect."
Marlene blinked before clasping her hands over her chest and cooing, "Awww... I like this version of you better."
Raven took another bite of the pineapple cake.
Mary started at her, long and hard. "Have you been brainwashed," she eventually started, "or is it your period?"
Raven choked—and immediately, she realized that she was crying and practically... No. She couldn't think it. Nevertheless, this was disgraceful! Atrocious!
"No!" Marlene exclaimed. Then, she thought about it. "Well, I don't know about her period, but she's not brainwashed. She just tried cake for the first time. Geez, how lowly do you think of me?"
"Lower than dirt," Raven whispered.
Marlene looked betrayed. "I thought I was wonderful and perfect?"
"Just... Don't ever speak of this again. Please?"
No one responded, because a rather familiar voice interrupted them:
"Just what, exactly, do you think you're doing here?"
Lily's emerald green eyes widened, then shut tightly. "Professor McGonagall! I'm so sorry! We just—"
James Potter's jaw dropped. "Pro-Professor McGonagall?!" he sputtered.
Lily and James were the only ones who weren't amused.
Was stupidity the new fashion? Because celebrating the first week of school was rather stupid, yet everyone seemed to want to do it. Even Raven did, and she didn't feel any shame in admitting it. It seemed as if pineapple cake had a magical effect on her, which wasn't strictly impossible, since she was a heartless and this was Hogwarts.
Heartless. It was such an odd name for a species. Now that she thought about it, she didn't actually like to be called heartless. It was edgy, yes, but it was the irritating kind of edgy that made her want to roll her eyes, even though it was an ironic joke. Besides, why would a species want to be edgy? It wasn't as if Edivar, the Spirit of Heartless, was super edgy himself. At least, Raven didn't think he was.
Why was she thinking about this? Because Remus Lupin had asked her, and she didn't know.
"Well, heartless are actually called quignis," she started, trying to give an answer because she didn't want to look stupid.
"Yes," he agreed, proving that he did know what heartless are actually called.
"Right. Of course you know." Raven forced a laugh. "And... well, heartless are a mysterious species, aren't they? I suppose we will never know."
She thought she wrapped it up quite nicely. Remus Lupin didn't.
"I don't think that's right," he said, frowning. "I mean, isn't religion really important for them?"
"...I suppose so," Raven mumbled.
"So, it probably has something to do with the Spirit of Heartless. Or maybe with the Spirit of Humans. That's kind of the only reason I can think of."
"Well, that does make sense...—Wait, did you say that there's a Spirit of Humans?"
This was news to Raven. And it was sort of world-shattering, too. If there was a Spirit of Humans... then, wouldn't that mean that the War of Eternity went directly against the Third Sacred Law: Don't do anything to disrespect a spirit?
"Yeah. I thought you knew?"
Remus had to have been wrong. He had to.
Otherwise, that could change everything.
In the language of flowers, GARDEN MARIGOLDS represent uneasiness.
Questions:
1. Favorite quote from chapter ten?
2. Why do you think Raven has never heard of the Spirit of Humans?
And, remember; please review!
~Sarcasticsnark13