Author's Note: Borrowed a bit of Paradise Lost, and since Milton's dead, I didn't ask permission.
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Chapter 28: We All Fall Down
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Voldemort's chamber had emptied for the night, save for the dying torches left flicking upon the walls, providing the dim light that so often cast shadows to hide the corners. Upon the back wall, cloaked in the veil of secrecy provided by the deep shadows, a lone oak table stood. It was covered in a silver cloth, with embroidered serpents along the hem, and hung to the dusty ground. On either end sat two large basins set atop serpent shaped holders. A gray powdery substance filled them, and singe marks along the sides of the basin showed that at one point, the powder had provided fuel for flame. And set upon the middle of the table, an ornate spellbook, bound in dark green cracking leather, with faded gold embossing that no longer was bright enough to portray the book's name. It was lying open, a dark green feather jammed into the book's binding to mark the page.
At the top read the title: "Impuesto." And written below it, in italicized letters read the inscription that would later be quoted (although the man would never admit it) by a Muggle in his own novel, Paradise Lost :
Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
These words had been underlined in green ink, and written next to them, in pristine writing was the name: Adrienne. A little further down the page, underlined in the same green ink, was the introduction to the curse:
For as long as I can remember, we have practiced the art of mental manipulation. Under my own powers, I have achieved this, but I am also privy to the knowledge that few will ever achieve the magical prowess in which I am endowed. Thus, in the following pages, taken straight from the Acabadian concept of mental manipulation, I have recorded my studies and bequeath them to my heir to use as he or she sees fit. - Salazar Slytherin.
* * *
"Are you even listening to me?" she snapped, her head jerking back and forth as if she were expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. "Well, you'd better be, because I'm tired of it, you hear me? I'm tired of it!" She stomped her foot in protest as Voldemort ignored her.
"I don't care who you think you are; I don't care what you think you are capable of doing, but you will leave me alone."
Adrienne smiled slightly as she felt the familiar cloudy feeling float through her brain. He was back, she could feel it.
'Are you finished yet?'
"No," Adrienne nearly shouted.
'Yes, you are,' Voldemort hissed. 'I have told you before, and I will tell you again, Perfect, you belong to me. Your future, your destiny has been already determined, written in the legacy of magic by the last Perfect before you, Salazar Slytherin himself. Is that clear?'
Adrienne shifted slightly and then turned, her arms behind her back. She slowly began to walk the length of her dormitory.
"Excuse me, sir," she said in a haughty voice, drawling out 'sir' with extreme distaste, "but I've never been the most apt student, per say. If you really are insistent upon knowing what I don't understand, then fine. I want to know how you're doing this," Adrienne pressed, trying very hard to focus her mental thoughts on something else, choosing to focus entirely on Crookshanks. She knew that Voldemort was capable of seeing her thoughts, and she wasn't about to make it easier for him by dwelling on them.
A cold, high laughter echoed through her mind, but Adrienne didn't shiver this time. She stood there, staring at Crookshanks, her eyes beginning to water, but she refused to blink. She needed something to keep her occupied and her gut was telling her that if she could keep focused on Crookshanks then perhaps she'd show Voldemort that she wasn't as weak as he thought.
'Do you think I'm foolish enough to tell you my plans? Do you think I'd be willing to risk everything just because you requested it?' Voldemort laughed again.
Adrienne didn't wince, she didn't even blink.
"I want you to leave me alone," she said calmly, her vision beginning to blur as her eyes lost focus.
'Or what, child, what would you possibly do? I thought we've been through this before. I thought I've explained to you that there is no one to whom you can turn for help. Do you not have any idea of what restrictions I've placed on you?'
Adrienne didn't reply at first, Crookshanks slipping out of her focus, her world losing all shape and visual countenance.
"You think I'm under your control?" Adrienne asked, her eyes crossing and her head beginning to ache, but she continued to stare ahead.
'You are under my control. I could make you do anything I wanted to, but not everything is in place. If it were, my plan would already have been fulfilled.'
Adrienne was shaking now, something in her gut telling her that it was working. Don't blink. She had no idea what she was doing, but something was telling her to continue doing it.
"You think I'm under your control?" Adrienne asked yet again as her vision went black and she was plunged into darkness.
'Where are you going with this?'
Voldemort was sitting at the edge of his chair, holding both his wand and Adrienne's original wand before him. He could feel it, although he didn't know exactly how or why. He couldn't see them, the thoughts that had for the last several months been running freely through his own mind as if they were his own. She was fighting, but how?
"I asked you a question and the least you can do is answer," Adrienne said again, biting her lip in pain as the pressure in her head built, her facial muscles struggling to keep her eyes open.
Voldemort tightened his grip on the wands and narrowed his eyes.
'You are under my control, but if you must know, not my complete control. I didn't fully complete the curse, child. I wanted to just push you in the direction. I guess you could say I was hoping you'd chose to follow me,' Voldemort whispered into her mind, deciding that perhaps it would be best to give her a little more information, especially something that told her that if she didn't cooperate, he would finish the curse.
Adrienne was shaking now. She honestly had no idea what she was doing. Something deep down in her gut was telling her to keep doing it though, the same something that had instructed her while she was in the MSB the day her necklace burned her. She was doing something right, she knew it, and so did Voldemort.
Voldemort's eyes widened as he stared at the space between the two wands he was holding before him. Every other time when he had communicated with her, an oval orb had appeared between the wands, furnished by streaks of light emitting from both wands, showing that the live connection between the two was open. But now, the light was flickering and the oval slowly fading. He shut his eyes and tried his hardest to focus on the thoughts he was drawing from Adrienne. But this time they only existed as little whispers of information in the back of his mind that he couldn't come close enough to grasping. She was escaping.
"I think then, sir, we have different views of what the word 'control' means," Adrienne whispered into her silent dormitory. "I'm warning you now, leave me alone, or I guarantee you, if we ever meet, you won't be a happy camper."
Voldemort's eyes snapped open, the red pupils flashing in the flickering torchlight.
'Child, don't you dare threaten me,' he hissed into his chamber, his voice flowing into the oval light before him and surfacing in Adrienne's mind. But this time Adrienne could barely hear it. She raised her right arm before her, to neck height, and spread her fingers.
"Get out of my mind," she hissed and then snapped her hand into a fist and smiled as she felt the haze leave the back of her mind.
She snapped her burning eyes shut and let out a moan of pain as tears flooded the burning tissue. She was breathing heavily, her mind reeling. She didn't know what curse he had used, but she had learned enough from Professor Hartel to know that all controlling curses, especially the Imperious Curse, could be broken by sheer will. She slowly opened her eyes, a sense of relief flooding her. If she could force Voldemort from her mind, she could somehow swallow the ridiculous fear that was hiding in her brain, and tell Hermione, Harry, and Ron what had been going on.
"After tonight, if they haven't been curious, they definitely will be," she whispered.
The dormitory had come back into a blurred focus. Adrienne turned around and stared into the mirror hanging upon the wall before her. She was still wearing her formal. She smiled at herself.
"Wolf cub my foot. No one's going to tell me what to do anymore. It's my future, and I'm going to be in charge of it," she assured herself, but Voldemort's words concerning that she hadn't been under a full curse were creeping into her mind, her insecurities pushing their way back into her thoughts.
Adrienne swallowed. She had a bad feeling. She set her jaw and turned on her heel. If he was going to try and really curse her now, she'd at least ask someone for help before he had the chance.
"My Lord, what happened?" Wormtail asked hurriedly, his eyes widening in fear at the look of fury inhabiting Voldemort's face. It almost rivaled that which he had worn the night Harry had escaped from the graveyard. A small breath of relief washed over Wormtail: At least Voldemort wasn't as angry as he had been that night.
"The entire family is worthless!" Voldemort exclaimed, his red eyes turning around to stare, flaming, at Wormtail.
"I thought we had already established that," Wormtail muttered, taking a hesitant step back.
"No, we established fourteen years ago that the parents were too noble. We established several times already that the boy must die. But, the girl, the Perfect, I had hoped she could have been converted. She's insecure enough. What did I tell you about Slytherin's research, Wormtail?" Voldemort asked, his voice cold and clipped. Wormtail swallowed.
"Um, well My Lord, you said he tried to convert Perfect spells to magic we could perform," Wormtail said hesitantly, not really remembering what Voldemort had told him.
"Fool!" Voldemort snapped, striding to the back of the chamber, flicking his wand at the table hidden in the shadows. Two bright green flames erupted from the basins at either end of the table.
"Perfects have the ability to control minds, which was only practiced by who, Wormtail?" Voldemort hissed. Wormtail trudged after his master, his head hung low in dread of what his master could possibly be using Slytherin's spellbook for.
"Mind control and manipulation were only practiced by the dark ones," Wormtail answered, stopping several feet behind Voldemort, not daring to step any closer.
"And how did he reconcile the strength difference between the Acabadian magic and our magic?"
Wormtail made a face, but racked his brains for the answer. Now he wished he had paid better attention to Voldemort's lectures, but he also had the funny feeling that this topic had never really been covered in any of his lectures: Cross-Arts Spells were never discussed.
"I don't know, My Lord," Wormtail replied. He didn't want to know either.
"He figured out something, Wormtail, something that lower wizards are only beginning to figure out today. There's a reason all Wizards have only one wand that suits them best. Your wand, over time, becomes associated with your mental process, and even can anticipate your thoughts. If you were to have another Wizard's wand, you could, if you knew the right curse, use it to control the individual. It's much more complex than the Imperious Curse, but far more difficult to break." Voldemort turned at this, his red eyes no longer gleaming with anger.
"I thought, and I thought wrong, that if I just played on the Perfect's fears, her insecurities, that she'd eventually give in. That she'd convince herself for us that she was a failure, she was a murderer, that she was below everyone. And once that threshold is crossed, turning her to the Dark Arts would be easy."
Voldemort turned back to face the table and placed a pale, spidery hand onto Slytherin's spellbook.
"But, Wormtail, I'm through with allowing her a chance to come over on her own will."
Voldemort ran his fingers up to the corner of the page and turned it, the parchment crackling beneath his fingers. His red eyes ran down the page, skimming the text and the instructions.
"She is stronger than I thought, but nevertheless, this will not happen again," he whispered furiously, and raised his wand into the air, his left hand raising Adrienne's wand.
"Does she think we don't notice her behavior changes? What does she take me for...a complete fool?" Hermione spat, quickening her pace.
"Hold on, Hermione," Harry called after her, jogging forward.
"It isn't that hard to come out and say that she has some form of survivor's guilt," Hermione sulked, ignoring Harry's protests. "But no, telling the truth and admitting her faults isn't good enough for her."
"Maybe she's in denial," Harry suggested. "Maybe she thinks that if she denies what happened then somehow it will just go away."
"And it's not just that, you do know she has a triangle burnt into her hand?" Hermione replied, stopping abruptly before the Fat Lady.
"Why would she burn a triangle into her hand?" Ron asked, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. Hermione whipped around, exasperated.
"How am I supposed to understand why she'd have a triangle on her palm? How am I supposed to understand her at all...she's mad!"
Ron smiled slightly at this.
"But you have to admit that she's the best looking mad-woman around," he said slyly. Hermione groaned.
"Inverness," she told the Fat Lady, and then stepped through the portrait hole.
The Gryffindor common room had filled substantially more since Adrienne had stomped through earlier. The large high-backed chairs by the fireplace were occupied; students were sprawled out on the ground, many still dressed from the dance. They didn't pay any attention to Hermione, Ron, and Harry's quick procession through the room.
"I don't care what crazy excuses she comes up with this time, that girl isn't moving forward in her life until she talks."
Harry raised his eyebrows to Ron at Hermione's latest exclamation. They scampered up the spiral staircase in silence, Hermione taking the time to reflect upon what she was going to say to Adrienne. She didn't, however, receive much time in which to accomplish this task.
"Umpf!"
"Ouch!"
Upon rounding the corner that led to the girl's corridor, Hermione ran headlong into Adrienne, who promptly jumped back, slapping a hand to her forehead in pain.
"Adrienne! Watch where you are going!" Hermione exclaimed, wincing.
Adrienne shook her head slightly, trying to relieve the slight throbbing pain that had procured from their collision.
"Are you two alright?" Harry asked, stepping forward to look at the two girls, still clinging to their heads.
Adrienne blinked and nodded, chuckling slightly. Despite the headache, this was the best her head and mind had felt in weeks. No crazy little voices echoing through her skull this time. The only lingering thought worrying her right now was that probably any moment Voldemort would be administering the curse for real. She had to tell them now.
"Yeah, that looked like it hurt," Ron interjected, rubbing his own head in empathy.
"Never mind that," Adrienne said suddenly, exhaling as she spoke.
"Yes, never mind that," Hermione began, dropping her hand and staring at Adrienne, her face a mixture of impatience and worry. "Adrienne - "
"Right," Adrienne interrupted, nodding her head vigorously, her hands shaking slightly. Just do it, she thought, but again she hesitated ... where to begin?
"Right what?" Ron asked curiously.
All three were staring rather intently now, and Adrienne suddenly didn't like all the attention. Hermione leaned forward in anticipation.
"Right," Adrienne started again, and then took a deep breath. "I'm a Perfect."
Whatever kind of explanation Hermione was expecting, this wasn't it. Next to her, Harry's jaw dropped and Ron raised a red eyebrow.
"Well, don't lets all start asking questions right away," Adrienne said, shifting her weight nervously.
Hermione continued to stare at her for several tense seconds before she began to chuckle.
"No, really, Adrienne, this isn't the time for your crazy imaginative games," she said lightheartedly, still laughing.
This time it was Adrienne's jaw that dropped.
"I'm not joking, Hermione," she spat, her face flushing slightly at the fact that they didn't believer her.
"Of course you are, Adrienne," Hermione said briskly, raising an eyebrow, momentarily forgetting the mission she had declared on their trip to Gryffindor Tower. "Come now, don't speak such nonsense."
"But it's true!" Adrienne exclaimed, raising her arms in exasperation.
"Question?" Harry had now entered the conversation, which was definitely not going the way Adrienne had hoped. Adrienne turned her attention quickly to him, a small hopeful smile breaking across her face.
"Aren't Perfects supposed to have unlimited magical abilities?" he asked a little apprehensively, agreeing fully with what Hermione was currently thinking: Adrienne had finally lost it.
"And your point?" Adrienne asked rather defensively; although, she had an idea where he was going with the comment.
"Well, unless you're keeping something drastic from us, you don't really have unlimited magical abilities."
Adrienne narrowed her eyes.
"That's beside the point," she snapped.
"So..." Ron started, hastily trying to change the subject, "you by any chance want to discuss what happened back at the dance?"
"Yes, what is going on, Adrienne? You know you can tell us,' Hermione added.
Adrienne rolled her eyes: This wasn't going to go over very well.
"I've been trying to tell you. I'm a Perfect and --"
"You are not! Whatever is bothering you can't be that bad that you feel you need to make up ridiculously impossible lies to cover it," Hermione chastised.
Adrienne scowled.
"I am too a Perfect. I'm not lying!" she growled, narrowing her eyes even more.
Whatever patience Hermione had been harboring left her at this point.
"Adrienne, there is no possible way you could be a Perfect." Hermione said this with the same conviction as she had had when informing Professor Lupin that under no possible circumstances could Peter Pettigrew be an anamagi, let alone be Scabbers.
"And why not?" Adrienne hissed, her fists balling.
She had thought that they would have at least attempted to believe her.
"Yeah, why not?" agreed Harry, turning to look at Hermione, whose face was just as infuriated as Adrienne's.
"Because everyone knows that Perfects can't use wands. The force of magic that Perfects produce is so concentrated that a wand submitted to it wouldn't be able to hold it, disintegrating under the immense power."
Ron opened his mouth to say that he hadn't known that, but Hermione cut him off.
"And you, Adrienne, if I'm not mistaken, use a wand. Has your wand, by any chance, ever disintegrated?"
Adrienne's silence served as a sufficient answer.
"Exactly my point. See, you can't be a Perfect."
Hermione smiled at her proof. Adrienne, on the other hand, frowned. That brought up an interesting concept...she did use her wand, she always had. Adrienne shoved this to the back of her mind, reminding herself that she probably didn't have much more time to try and enlist their aid.
"You guys have to believe me. That's why Voldemort came to Salem. That's why Professor Mondel," Adrienne shuddered at this, "and all the others died. All because I'm a Perfect."
"You're delusional!" Hermione declared abruptly.
Adrienne raised a hand to her head and pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance.
"Adrienne, you're suffering form survivor's guilt. It's a natural phenomenon and can be expected from someone in your position. You don't have to lie about it," Hermione said in a more soothing tone.
Adrienne shook her head.
"And why do I feel guilty? Because I'm a Perfect!"
"You are not!" Hermione cried.
"Ok, let's all take a deep breath," Ron suggested, stepping between the two girls who were both wearing murderous faces.
Adrienne stepped to her left to put Hermione back in her view. She had just opened her mouth to again plead her case when she felt it: Her head quickly became thick, her thoughts weighed down with a familiar haze.
"He's back," she whispered, her eyes widening in horror.
Hermione and Harry stared at her, and Ron whipped around. Adrienne's annoyed expression melted form her face, and her friends watched, confused, as she paled.
"Who's back, Adrienne?" Harry asked cautiously, stepping toward her.
Adrienne stepped away, shaking her head.
'They don't believe you, do they?'
'Go away,' Adrienne thought, forgetting that she was still standing in the corridor.
'No, I don't think I will.'
Adrienne shut her eyes and then snapped them back open, again becoming aware of her surrounding.
"I'm not lying, Harry," she pleaded, turning her attention to him.
'I wouldn't do that if I were you.'
"Oh shove off!" Adrienne snapped aloud by mistake.
"I warned you, child, did I not? I gave you the chance of a lifetime ... but did you accept my gift? No, foolish girl. You will learn not to disobey me in the future."
Voldemort looked back down at the book.
"Impuesto," he hissed, and Wormtail shuddered as a flash of blue light filled the dark room.
"Adrienne, are you all right?" Ron asked slowly, staring at Adrienne's bemused expression, which reminded Harry greatly of how Ginny looked upon waking in the Chamber of Secrets.
"No," she said suddenly, blinking rapidly, her face turning to an expression of panic.
"What is it?" Ron asked. Adrienne's eyes widened.
"Please believe me, I'm a Perfect," she pleaded.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Adrienne, enough is enough!" she breathed.
Adrienne opened her mouth to try again, but, to her amazement, she found herself unable to control what was flowing off her tongue.
"Fine. Fine! Have it your way! Just leave me alone!" she shouted, and then felt herself turning on her heel and stomping down the corridor.
Adrienne tried to turn back around, she tried to call out to them, but she couldn't. She shut her eyes suddenly, realizing what was happening...Voldemort had completed the curse.
"Adrienne!"
Adrienne kept walking as if she were on casters.
"Adrienne!"
Harry put a hand on her shoulder, and she wrenched herself out of his grasp.
"Leave me alone," she snapped, whipping around to look at him. He took a step back under her glare. "You know what, perhaps I did lie!" Adrienne tried to stop speaking, her mind working in horror at what she was saying. "But that's only because I'm sick of it. Harry Potter this, Harry Potter that. Look at his scar! Let's all bow down and lick the dust from before his feet.... It's famous Harry Potter! Leave me alone."
Then Adrienne found herself running into her empty dormitory and slamming it shut in his shocked face, her mind screaming that she didn't mean it. She tried to turn around and reopen the door, but her body didn't listen. And then, the haze over her mind lifted just slightly.
'Let's get something straight,' Voldemort's voice resounded in her mind.
"What did you do!" she said, realizing that she could decide what to say again.
'There's new rules, Perfect. You do what I tell you to, when I tell you to.'
"Oh yeah? And are you going to stay in my mind the entire time, trying to make sure I follow your little rules?" she asked, fixating her eyes again on Crookshanks.
'Don't think that you can just go breaking this curse with your powers. You can't. The strength you need is far beyond what you're capable of.'
Adrienne scowled.
'They didn't believe you, did they? t told you they wouldn't. And now they'll think you're a liar, trying to get attention. We'll let them think that. And then, when everything is in place, you'll go up to Harry and tell him you want to apologize. He'll follow you and walk right into my trap.'
"I'm not helping you," Adrienne growled.
'Sit down.'
Suddenly Adrienne's feet flew up from beneath her, and she fell to the ground with an almighty thump.
"OUCH!" she breathed as her tailbone hit the hard wood floor.
'Now, you don't have a choice. I tried to make it easier for you. But did you accept it? No, so now you will pay.'
Adrienne pursed her lips and clenched her fists.
"I will not help you. I won't," she whispered.
Voldemort laughed.
'Keep telling yourself that, child, keep telling yourself that. And by the way, you won't mention anything about me, what happened at Salem, this curse, or Perfects to anyone ... you understand that? And if they ask you about being a Perfect, you won't claim that again.'
"Perfect my foot," she mumbled, reaching back and beginning to unzip her dress.
Hermione pulled on a cotton nightgown and climbed into her warm covers, pulling them up to her neck. She stared up into the ceiling above her, her mind turning over what Adrienne had said, and just as in the corridor, she came up with the same conclusion ... impossible.
Neville let out a small squeak and slid down his seat until only his now sweating forehead appeared behind his desk. Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows at this but continued.
"The exams will be set for the first week of June. If, as I suggested at the beginning of the year, you have all been diligently working on your review packets - " several students snickered at this.
"We had review packets?" Adrienne groaned.
She was sitting alone at the front table, Hermione, Harry, and Ron, several tables back. During the past several weeks, Hermione had been adamant upon Adrienne explaining her odd behavior, and Adrienne, every time she tried, ended up saying something completely different. Just last night Adrienne had again tried to tell them that Voldemort had her under some kind of curse. The only thing she managed to say was a corny story about how she had seen a Muggle fireman fall off the firetruck he was riding as it zoomed down 5th Street in New York City. This had only served to anger Hermione even more and now accounted for why Hermione wouldn't speak to her. And Harry, who now completed believed that Adrienne was in a jealous rage similar to that of Ron's the previous year, refused to speak to her until she acknowledged she was wrong. And poor Ron, torn between his two best friends and his girlfriend, had chosen the ones he had known the longest.
So, now that they all were refusing to speak to her until she told them the truth, Adrienne, who couldn't do that, had applied herself diligently to her studies, not managing, in a disturbingly impressive way, to improve in any subject. Madam Pince was remarking to the other Professors that Adrienne frequented the library more now than Hermione. This bit of information only served to send several Professors on fieldtrips to the library, only to end up in heated debts over how Adrienne could be spending so much time studying and actually have her marks get worse.
None of their explanations, however, ranging from Snape's thought that all the reading was rotting her already spoilt mind, to Flitwick's thought that Adrienne wasn't studying at all, but only sleeping with her eyes open, came close to the real reason. Adrienne had been spending all her time searching through the library looking for whatever curse she could be under. She hadn't found anything helpful though.
What was worse was that during dueling practices, her record was becoming very inconsistent. She only won when Voldemort let her, and the other times found herself unable to even yell out a block or a curse. She didn't understand what the point of his doing this was, but she figured it was just to torture her.
" - then, you should have no problems completing these exams to the best of your given abilities. If, however, you feel that you need extra help in any of your subjects, please come speak with me, and I will assign you an upper-year tutor. Any questions?" finished McGonagall, her eyes now flickering over to Harry's table.
Hermione was sitting at the edge of her seat, her quill inked and ready to begin taking notes on, by the look of her face, something as world-changing as Africa disappearing off the face of the planet one drizzly summer night. Next to her sat Harry, who looked as if he was trying very hard to keep from screaming out in misery. On Harry's other side, Ron was slouched in his chair, visibly asleep. At the table at the front of the room Adrienne sat with her feet propped up on the table, her Transfiguration book open in her lap, and was muttering spells McGonagall couldn't make out.
"You have looked at those packets, haven't you?" McGonagall asked slowly, lowering her glasses down the bridge of her nose.
The majority of the class shifted uncomfortably; Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out a huge binder, Harry pulled out his battered review packet, Adrienne didn't look up from her book, and Ron let out a loud snore.
"I'm embarrassed by your distinct lack of effort," McGonagall started, her voice low and short.
"I beg to differ, Professor, I'm not lacking in the effort area; it's the talent thing that's got me tarred and feathered," Adrienne said, still not looking up from her text-book.
She was trying very hard to memorize the steps in Object-Animal Transfigurations. Several chuckles rang through the room, but McGonagall's mouth thinned, if possible, even more.
"I would have thought that all of you would be taking this seriously. This is an important and perhaps for some of you, career determining, exam, students. Do you realize that these scores will stay with you eternally? One mistake will haunt you forever."
McGonagall's speech was interrupted by the clock hands ticking to the 12, indicating the end of class.
"If you haven't started revising, it isn't too late," McGonagall called after the leaving students.
She sighed and collapsed into the wooden chair behind her desk, shaking her head, and raising a hand to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration.
Adrienne turned to look at the redhead who had spoken to her. Adrienne smiled bemusedly and shrugged.
"I don't know," she replied, turning the final corner on their trip to the Defense classroom.
"I mean, there is a reason they're illegal," Catherine continued, entwining her fingers nervously in front of her. "She really could get into all sorts of trouble doing this. My dad's an auror. If he knew that she was going to be chasing us around her classroom, screaming 'Imperio' at us, he'd be up in arms! I mean, I'm protesting. This so goes against my Constitutional rights! Whatever happened to the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness?"
Adrienne rolled her eyes and quickened her pace. Catherine had to be the most annoying girl she had ever met.
"The Constitution says we have those rights. This Imperious Curse business goes against my right to liberty. A right to liberty means a right to freedom. How can I be free when I have the Imperious Curse on me? Tyranny!" Catherine exclaimed, narrowing her eyes as they reached the open Defense classroom door. "Ouch!"
Adrienne had stopped abruptly in the middle of the doorway, causing Catherine to run right into her.
"Sorry," Adrienne said as she turned on her heel to face her classmate, "but, dearest Cat, you forget that we don't technically live under the American government, do we? The government that really controls us is the American Ministry of Magic. I see no relationship between the Capitol Hill government and the one down in the Gallows. The Ministry governs you, and the Ministry gave Professor Hartel permission; she told me last night. So really, get off this patriotic kick."
Catherine pursed her lips, placing her hands on her hips, and began tapping her foot impatiently.
"You have no idea - " she began, but Professor Hartel interrupted her.
"Ah, come in, come in. Once you two take your seats, class will be ready to start," Mia said, walking over from behind her desk.
She was wearing midnight blue robes and had her wand stuck behind her ear, reminding Adrienne of the school librarian. Adrienne quickly took her seat and sighed as Catherine took the chair next to hers.
"Communist," Catherine whispered under her breath. Adrienne shook her head and turned her attention to Professor Hartel, who had now seated herself atop her desk and was surveying the anxious fourth-year faces before her.
"Come now, smile," she said cheerfully, "this is going to be an interesting lesson."
Around Adrienne, several students smiled weakly, while the boy sitting on her right slowly lowered his hands to his stomach and Catherine raised hers to cross before her chest in a last ditch attempt of protesting.
"Now, as I told you yesterday, I will be demonstrating the effects of the Imperious Curse on all of you. I do not expect any of you to be able to ward it off. Actually, I'd be quite surprised if anyone did. The strength of this curse makes it very difficult to fight, and the ability to do so only greatens with age and practice. So, I will call on each one of you in turn. You will approach my desk and wait for me to place the curse on you. Once I do, I want you to try your very hardest to fight the curse. I may remind you that this lesson is purely voluntary; however, if you chose not to participate, you will be writing me quite a long research paper on how the Imperious Curse affects the neuron transmissions of the brain."
"Communist it'll be then," Catherine muttered, obviously agreeing that giving up her' freedom' for a few minutes was more favorable then a crazy research assignment.
Mia stood up and looked about the room expectantly.
"So, any volunteers?" she asked, her purple eyes lighting up with excitement as she reached up to grasp her wand. Not one hand raised into the air.
"Come on now, I promise, it doesn't hurt," she said, pursing her lips slightly.
She really hated it when no one volunteered. Adrienne cast a quick glance around the room, taking in the defensive faces, and then raised her hand.
"Miss Miles, I knew you were a brave one," Mia said, motioning for Adrienne to walk up to the front of the room.
Adrienne took a deep breath and stood up, tossing her wand into her pocket. The class sat with bated breath as Mia and Adrienne faced each other.
"You ready?" Mia asked, raising her wand and pointing it square between Adrienne's eyes.
"Curse me," Adrienne said, her voice quite steady, considering she was afraid her legs were going to turn into jelly.
"Imperio," Mia ordered in a clipped tone.
The class watched in awe as a short burst of white light sped straight for Adrienne and then disappeared as if it had been absorbed straight into her body.
"Now, the average wizard can hold off the curse for approximately five seconds after being given an order. Let's see how well Miss Miles will. Miss Miles, bring me the door."
Mia had said this, thinking that after the five second waiting period, Adrienne would turn and walk over to the door, proving that she was under Mia's control, giving Mia enough time to take the curse off her before she actually did mange to get the door off its hinges. However....
"Accio!" Adrienne called, having whipped her wand from her pocket immediately after Mia had said "door."
A second later, standing before Mia was the solid oak door, held up by two sets of fingers on either side. Adrienne, with difficulty, walked forward and handed it to Mia, who raised her hands to prevent it from falling upon her. With a quick, awkward flick of her wand (considering she was now holding up the door too), she removed the curse and Adrienne began to shaker her head, somewhat confused at what had just happened.
"Wow, two seconds," Catherine called from her seat, looking up from her watch. "I'd say Adrienne is below average then."
Adrienne glared at her.
"Some just have more trouble warding off the curse, that's all," Mia said as she put the door magically into place.
Mia shot a strange look at Adrienne and sent her back to her seat.
"I could keep it off for ten seconds," Catherine said proudly as she came back from her turn.
"Oh goodie," Adrienne mumbled, staring around the classroom dejectedly. She had been the only person who had not been able to ward off the curse at all. "This bites," she groaned.
Adrienne sat up straight in her bed and looked around, her vision blocked by her drawn hangings. Her dream lingered in her head, the words, her feelings, her actions mixing together in her mind. She focused on how she felt while under the Imperious Curse, smiling slightly.
"It's almost exactly like it...the curses have to be related," she whispered, reaching up and rubbing her eyes. "But I couldn't even fight off the Imperious Curse for more than two seconds."
She sighed and drew her knees to her chest. She knew Voldemort wasn't listening in on her thoughts. She had been able to tell when he was doing that and when he wasn't. When she was alone, her mind seemed less hazed, but she knew from experience that she was still under Voldemort's control, but how, she didn't understand.
"It doesn't matter if I'm not strong enough. Strength has to be built," she whispered suddenly. "You don't just go out and run a marathon, you have to build up to it. You don't go out and just perform cross-species transfiguration, you have to practice up to it."
"To break the curse, you have to start small," she whispered, trying to think what Professor Glenn or Hartel would tell her if she could ask them for their help.
She thought quickly of something small she could do, something, anything. And then it hit her: There was a dueling tournament Saturday. She didn't yet know whether Voldemort would let her win her match or make her lose again.
"I could really make him angry, make him feel he has to punish me," she whispered. "Make him declare that I'll loose my duel, and then I'll win anyway... I'll show him."
She smiled at her plan, pushing to the back of her mind the fact that she had no idea how she could win her duel if he had his mind set on her losing; she hadn't been able to attain that at all before. Adrienne lay back against her pillow.
"Now I just have to make him mad."
She smiled evilly; getting herself into trouble was her most marketable skill.
Hagrid's voice carried well through the blustery March day. A hint of green was returning to the Hogwarts grounds, and the whistle of the birds in the Forbidden Forest could be heard even out on the Quidditch Field, where the Care of Magical Creatures class was being held.
Hermione, Harry, and Ron pushed their way toward a nearby tin tub, Harry casting a backwards glance at Adrienne, who, along with Neville and Seamus, was staring down at their covered tub.
"Now, these fuzzy creatures – don't put yer hand in there, Malfoy - anyone know their name?" Hagrid bellowed.
Everyone leaned closer to their tubs, looking into them with unsure faces.
"Caterpillars?" Adrienne called out suddenly.
"No, Cannipillars, there's a big difference," Hermione corrected.
"Correct, five points to Gryffindor," Hagrid called out, ignoring Adrienne's scowling face.
"And why can't we touch them?" Malfoy drawled, kneeling down next to his tub. "They look rather harmless to me."
"They are if you handle them right. Now what do cannipillars eat?"
At this Ron wrinkled his nose.
"Don't they eat animals?" he asked.
Hagrid nodded and Malfoy laughed.
"Don't tell me you're afraid of a three inch bug, Weasel. These things couldn't hurt anything," Malfoy said, laughing some more.
"One couldn't do very much damage," Hermione called out, "but a whole bunch of them could eat you alive."
At this, Malfoy almost doubled over in hysterics.
"What fool would just sit back and let a bunch of bugs gnaw on him? You might, but me, I'd just smash them." Malfoy pounded his right fist in his left hand, and behind him, Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles menacingly.
"You just try that and see what happens," Hagrid said, starting down the two rows of tubs. "Their structure can't be destroyed by physical means. If you stepped on it, it would only piece itself back together and grow even larger. Each time it has to restructure itself, it doubles in size. Beautiful, amazing creatures, don't you think?"
Hagrid was smiling down warmly at Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyles' cannipillar.
In the back row, Adrienne took a step back form her tub in horror.
"How do you kill them?" she asked in a timid voice.
"They respond to chemical change, so the best way to kill them would be to place them in an open flame. But why would you want to do that?" Hagrid asked, aghast. "They're perfectly safe if you handle them right. Now. Dragon-hide gloves on..."
"Adrienne?"
Adrienne shut the library door behind her and turned around. Professor McGonagall was walking toward her, her scarlet robes billowing.
"Yes, Professor?" Adrienne said, shifting her potions textbook to hide the book on the Imperious Curse she had just taken. McGonagall stopped before her.
"Our last dueling tournament is tomorrow," McGonagall began, and Adrienne nodded, reaching up and brushing some loose strands of hair out of her face. McGonagall pursed her lips slightly.
"What is it Professor?" Adrienne prompted.
"If we don't win this tournament, we won't make it to the Final Tournament. Considering your less than usual performance in the dueling ring during practices, and also during Professor Lycé's class, I've decided that I'd like to change the line up of competitors tomorrow."
Adrienne started to frown and then stopped herself.
"Miss Granger will be dueling first, and Harry, last. I'm sure you understand that it's in the best interest of the team."
"Of course," Adrienne replied. "No hard feelings at all, Professor. See you tomorrow."
Adrienne turned and headed down the corridor, pouting slightly. It was tradition that Captains dueled either last or first, never in the middle. She narrowed her eyes.
"I'll win tomorrow if it kills me," she whispered, "I'll show everyone."
'Good evening child. My, my, my, you are a night-owl aren't you?' Voldemort asked slowly, his voice echoing inside her head.
Adrienne rolled her eyes and sat up suddenly.
'Perhaps,' she thought, reaching her arms above her to stretch.
'There's a duel tonight,' he said casually.
'Oh right on with that one. What have you done, memorized my schedule?' she thought torridly.
Voldemort laughed.
'I know things, Adrienne, and when you duel is among the information in which I have educated myself.'
Adrienne sighed and slouched.
'And I'm going to win this duel too,' she said defensively, waiting to see what he would say.
'Are you? I hadn't planned on you winning. Actually, I thought you losing again would finally convince you that you can't escape me,' he replied.
'I don't care what you think. I'm going to win,' Adrienne replied as sternly as her thoughts could manage.
'You'll win only if I let you, and I'm not planning on that.'
'Now you listen here,' Adrienne thought slowly, narrowing her eyes and staring at her hangings, 'I'm really sick and tired of this. You know that?" Adrienne laughed slightly and rolled her eyes. 'And I say I'm going to win, and I'm the only one who can decide that. Not you, not the Minister, not anyone. It's my choice. My winning lies solely in my abilities.'
'Like it did when you dueled the Ravenclaw girl?' Voldemort suggested coldly.
Adrienne narrowed her eyes.
'You can't, my child,' Voldemort whispered, 'I promise you, you can't. Try and win your duel. But you forget, don't you? You haven't been able to stop yourself from doing anything I've wanted you to do, have you?'
Adrienne shuddered at this; he did have a point.
'This time it's going to be different,' she thought, pursing her lips.
'Child, you won't win. I promise you.'
'Fine, it's a bet. You try and make me lose, and I'll try and win; we'll see who's more powerful tomorrow then,' Adrienne thought.
Back in his chamber, Voldemort glared; he didn't like this new show of courage. It took a great deal of self-control to maintain his patient attitude. He generally despised patience with any disobedient being, and had it not been for the fact that he still needed Adrienne's full cooperation later on, when his plan was finally ready, he would have by now taught her a million times over just what exactly happens to people who cross him. But instead, he took another deep breath and amused himself with what he could do to her, and that infinitesimally maddening brother of hers, after Slytherin's powers had finally been released.
'Fine, child. But remember, the time is coming ... remember child,' and then the voice was gone.
Adrienne sank back into a lying position, staring up at the top of her canopy. Now that she was sure that Voldemort was indeed planning on keeping her from winning, she had another problem to deal with: How she was actually going to win.
"He said I'm not strong enough to break the curse," she whispered, and then nodded slightly, agreeing partially with him.
She had never been strong. Sure, she spent four years learning how to fight with Professor Mondel. He had told her that martial arts procured greater self-confidence and self-worth, something that he had believed would help her with her studies and relatively low self-esteem. Sure, she had spent four years, rain or shine, sick or healthy, running. Professor Sloan had told her that running was more of a mental sport than anything. The key to being a successful runner was using you mind to push you past your physical limits. Whether her professors had actually believed these two activities to really be of any help to her, Adrienne wasn't sure; she was beginning to think they had just devised ways to keep her occupied and thus not creating havoc through the school.
But other than that, she had always been insecure. She had always been the outcast at 5th Street, the one no one would talk to. At Salem she had always been the clumsy one, except that is, in the dueling ring. Dueling had been the one thing that she was proud of herself for. Professor Hartel had always told her that she was so good at dueling because she had amazing focus.
"Focus," Adrienne said quietly. "She said I was good because I could block everything else out and just duel. Maybe that's why he can control me so well in the dueling ring, because I'm not even trying to fight his control, I'm just trying to duel. If, perhaps, I focused partly on him..." Adrienne paused to think. He never actually had told her to lose a match, he had just distracted her, making her lose her focus completely. She smiled broadly.
"It's just like when I dueled against multiple opponents. I split my focus. If I pay attention to my dueling opponent and try and fight off Voldemort, then maybe I can hold his commands at bay until I at least win."
Adrienne had to admit that this sounded a lot easier than it would likely be, but another thought was floating through her mind: Harry. She felt horrible about how she had treated him. And she felt horrible that now he thought she was a jealous liar.
She had never expressed her feelings. She had never told him what she had really thought about the revelation about them being twins. She really did like the idea, but couldn't bring herself to publicly acknowledge it. People at the school weren't too thrilled with her lately anyway, and if they found out she was related to Harry, she was afraid they'd even be more assured she was trying to show him up.
Adrienne rolled over. She had never been very good at expressing her feelings and had just gone about treating Harry as she had before, as a friend. She shut her eyes, remembering the night at King's Cross when he had saved her. She wasn't going to let Voldemort use herself against Harry. If she didn't win this duel, then Voldemort would be right, she would be a complete danger to him. Adrienne didn't like that thought.
"I have to win," she whispered into her pillow.
The entire school was there now, packed into the newly conjured bleachers, staring down at the ring below them, chatting expectantly. None of the duelers had emerged yet. The Gryffindors were in the room that the Tri-Wizard Champions had been called into the previous year. The Hufflepuffs were grouped in the hallway connecting the kitchens and the Great Hall.
"Alright," Professor McGonagall said, turning around from where she was standing before the fireplace. She was wearing emerald green robes and a stressed expression.
"You've all been practicing hard. You've all improved so much this year. And whether we lose or win, I want to take the moment to tell you all that I've enjoyed my time working with you immensely. You've all devoted much time and energy into this team, and your accomplishments are well deserved. Thus said, I want you to go out and do your best, enjoy yourself, and if possible, WIN." Professor McGonagall cracked a rare smile. "Yes, let's go out and win."
Lee Jordan stood up and wiggled his eyebrows.
"Yes ... team!" he exclaimed, stepping in front of McGonagall and facing his schoolmates. He clasped his hands before him and raised his eyebrows.
"Go, team, go!" he exclaimed in a very girly voice that sent Ron, Harry, and Samantha into hysterics.
"Hey, we need some pep!" he called in his defense. "And since none of the traditional cheering types are willing to do this..." he cast a furtive glance at Samantha, who rolled her eyes, then at Hermione, who tried hard not to laugh, and then finally at Adrienne, who was sitting with her back against a wall, her eyes closed.
"Come on, now, you're pretty peppy, give us a cheer," he said, lunging forward and grabbing Adrienne's hands, which she had resting on her legs.
He yanked Adrienne up and pulled her to the middle of the room. Her eyes flashed open.
"I was doing something," she hissed angrily.
Lee looked at her and grinned.
"Come on now, I bet some of these here have never seen a good cheer. You look like the type that might know one," he said in a confident voice.
Adrienne raised an eyebrow.
"Oh goodie," she muttered, then looking around the room, rolled her eyes and racked her brains for a cheer she had heard while at 5th Street. She couldn't remember one, so, she decided to improvise.
Adrienne pushed back her shoulders, pursed her lips and then said in a very slow, deliberate and dull, robotic voice:
"I had a donkey, his name was Fred
Lee dropped his smile and narrowed his eyes: what kind of cheer is that? What does a donkey have to do with dueling?
Adrienne shrugged and stopped signing. I've never cheered before.
"Fine, so Miles isn't the right type of girl," he grumbled, turning around, realizing that his attempt to lighten the nervous mood had failed miserably.
Adrienne promptly collapsed onto the ground, drawing her knees up to her chest, closing her eyes, and sitting there.
"And the winner of tonight's duel will be facing off with Ravenclaw in the Finals later on in the year," Neville was continuing to commentate, and watched with great interest as the judges, Dumbledore at the head of the procession, filed in and took their places at the High Table: It was almost time to begin.
"And I think, yes, I'm sure," Neville began, watching as Dumbledore nodded his head to Professor Sinistra, who was standing next to the doors that led to the rooms that held the two teams. "And here they come ... the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff Primary Dueling Teams!"
The two doors opened and the teams filed out, McGonagall leading the Gryffindors, Hermione following behind her. The two lines walked towards the dueling circle, the Gryffindors arcing toward the right and the Hufflepuffs taking the left, each heading toward their seats.
This time, however, it was Hermione who took the first chair, her eyes flitting nervously toward the dueling circle. Next to her sat a green looking Rodney Nells, and next to him, Ron. Adrienne sat in the sixth chair, and Harry, in the last.
"And dueling first are Hermione Granger for Gryffindor and Hufflepuff co-Captain, Jessica Clearwater," Neville announced.
Adrienne turned in her chair and sent a shaky thumbs up to Hermione. Hermione took a deep breath and saluted herself into the ring, staring with a suppressed look of confidence at short little Jessica, who was staring at Hermione as if she were a bull ready to charge.
"Face your opponent," Dumbledore called from the High Table.
Hermione fixed Jessica with a piercing stare, then bowed when Dumbledore instructed them to.
"On my mark; three, two, one, mark!"
A blinding flash of orange light burst into the air as Jessica sent her first curse sailing towards Hermione. Hermione sidestepped it, raising her wand, and with a slight flick of her risk and a quick shout of, "Tarantellegra," began her counter-attack.
Jessica blocked this easily, stepped backwards, and began circling the ring, sending curses Hermione's way left and right. Adrienne nodded her approval of Jessica's dueling style and crossed her fingers tighter in hopes that Hermione would keep up the excellent effort. She did. Finally, as Jessica stumbled, crossing a foot behind her as she made her way around the ring's circumference, Hermione called out, "Expelliarmus," and deftly caught Jessica's wand. Once Hermione had exited the ring, Adrienne congratulated her on her win, smiling hopefully.
"Thanks," Hermione replied, and not saying anything else, retook her seat.
Adrienne leaned back in her chair and shut her eyes. She slowly envisioned a dueling ring in her mind, and inside it, she pictured herself, facing a faceless opponent. Adrienne watched her imaginary self salute, raise her wand, and begin to duel.
She kept her eyes closed, oblivious to what was going on around her, completely missing Rodney's, Samantha's, and Ron's duels. She was taking slow, deep breaths, trying to calm the butterflies that were in her stomach. This wasn't just a normal duel anymore, it now more resembled a plain coin-toss. If Adrienne won, she would prove to herself and to Voldemort that she couldn't be controlled, but if she were to lose ... Adrienne really didn't want to think of that.
"Adrienne," Harry whispered, tapping her shoulder.
Adrienne opened her eyes and turned. Harry leaned closer to her.
"You're next, Lee has to be almost done," he said.
Adrienne turned to attention to the ring to where Lee was bouncing about, shooting off curses with elaborate flicks of his wrists.
"What's the score?" Adrienne asked.
"4-0, they can't win, we have it," Harry whispered back, his face lighting up: They were going on to the finals. This had seemed to override Harry's first desire to still wait for Adrienne to apologize.
"Well then, that takes a lot of pressure off you, doesn't it Mr. I'm-Dueling-Last-Just-In-Case-We-End-Up-With-Another-Tied-Game," Adrienne whispered back, smiling slightly.
Harry raised an eyebrow.
"And it takes the pressure off you too," he added.
Adrienne didn't look at him, but shook her head.
"No," she whispered hoarsely.
Harry was about to inquire further when Lee stunned Hannah Abbott and raised her wand victoriously into the air.
"Well, that's that," Adrienne thought, standing up, "the moment of reckoning; the test of wills; the abilities of the cat versus the mouse. She stopped ranmbling and then, holding her head high, her fingers gripping her wand tightly, she started walking toward the ring.
"Good luck, Miles," Samantha whispered.
"Yeah, Yank, give it to them," Lee shouted at her.
Adrienne snapped herself to attention, her entire mind focused on only the dueling ring, the entire audience completely blocked out.
'We'll see how you manage this one, Perfect,' Voldemort whispered to her as she took her place opposite Monica Brizentine. Adrienne raised an eyebrow at Monica and Monica gulped.
"Opponents, bow," Dumbledore said.
Adrienne bowed quickly, her eyes piercing Monica, searching for a weakness.
'You do realize that every time you duel your spells issue before you're ...'
'Stating the obvious again? I thought you would have had better material,' she thought.
'They'll know you're a Perfect. They'll see you as the threat you are. You're not strong enough to really handle the complications of the Art. They know you'll either join the Dark Side or go crazy trying not to,' Voldemort hissed.
"On my mark, three, two, one, mark!"
"Punzada!" Adrienne shouted, aiming her wand at Monica. Monica missed the block and tried to step out of the curses' way, but was to slow. The curse hit her left arm and she screamed as stabbing pain bled through her arm. Monica clenched her jaw and then threw a curse Adrienne's way.
Adrienne blocked it expertly, and had it not been for the fact that she was trying to carry on a conversation and duel at the same time, she would have disarmed Monica. But, she couldn't just ignore Voldemort and duel because she thought she had some idea of how this curse (although she still didn't know what it was) he had been talking about worked. When she just let him speak to her, her mind itself began to agree with what he said, but if she made a conscious attempt to try and contradict it, she could fight him off longer.
'And once they find out you're a Perfect and they realize that thus you are responsible for the deaths at the Gallows, you'll be an outcast. A murderer.'
Adrienne bit her lip and then yelled, "Expelliarmus."
Jessica blocked it. Adrienne sent another curse her way and lunged towards her right to avoid the Stunning charm.
'Give up, you can't beat me. Join me, Adrienne,' Voldemort hissed.
'Right, that's it,' she thought.
"Petrificus Totallus!" she screamed.
Jessica blocked this one too.
'Perhaps if you continue to be this troublesome, I'll have to teach you a lesson,' Voldemort hissed again.
'I thought cursing me for real was your idea of a lesson taught," she thought, rolling her eyes.
She tried again to stun Jessica, but to no avail...
Voldemort leaned back in his chair and watched the duel before him on the image that was portrayed between the two wands he was holding. He tightened his grip and smiled.
"Impuesto," he said again, deciding that perhaps the curse needed to be reapplied to her...
"Anoptico," Adrienne declared, shooting blue sparks at Jessica...
"Next time she tries to stun you, you won't block it," Voldemort spoke aloud in his chamber. In the dark corner, Lucius and Wormtail watched with interest...
'Nice try,' Adrienne thought.
"Serpensortia!" she called.
A large black snake shot from her wand and advanced on Monica. Monica didn't even blink, she just pointed her wand at it and transfigured it into a fly, and then with lightening precision, turned her wand back to Adrienne.
"Stupefy!" Jessica yelled, her face set.
Adrienne opened her mouth to block it, but nothing came out. Her mind screamed at her to move, but her muscles didn't respond, and then, as victorious laughter rang through her skull, everything went black.
"And at this rate, Adrienne Miles will not be retaining her International Underage Dueling title at this summer's championship," Neville announced into the still silent room.
Monica lowered Adrienne's wand and then took a step toward the unconscious girl.
"Ennervate," she whispered.
Adrienne slowly shook her head, and cracked open her eyes, wondering why she was lying on the ground in the Great Hall. Then suddenly she understood and she pressed her eyes closed in horror: She had lost.
'Do you believe me now, girl? Do you?'
The words echoed in her aching head, a bruise beginning to form where her head had hit the stone floor. Adrienne took a few deep breaths, a horrible feeling beginning to form in her gut: She had lost.
'Commendable effort, really, it was. But unfortunately, it just wasn't enough. Just think, I could make you do anything, couldn't I? Right now, if I wanted to, I could tell you to kill Potter.'
Adrienne took another deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut even tighter. He was right. He had been right the entire time. She wasn't strong enough. There was nothing she could do, there was nothing she'd be able to do. Adrienne's eyes snapped open, an intense anger coursing through her. She was angry with Voldemort for putting her in such a predicament. She was angry with Hermione, Harry, and Ron for not believing her. She was angry with McGonagall for not letting her duel when she was supposed to as a Captain. She was angry with Monica for beating her. But most of all she was angry with herself for not being able to solve her own problem.
Adrienne snapped her eyes open and jumped up, glaring maliciously at Monica. Monica held out her hand for Adrienne to take, but she didn't. Instead she walked straight up to the girl, grabbed back her wand, and then strode from the ring, not even saluting herself out. She didn't care if she looked like a poor loser. The entire school was going to think she had thrown the match anyway, since she hadn't even been able to attempt to block the Stunning Charm. What did it matter if they thought she was a baby about it too? No one, not even McGonagall, made an effort to go after her.
"And dueling last is Harry Potter for Gryffindor and Taytum Kalinski for Hufflepuff."
Neville's words followed Adrienne into the Entrance Hall, although muffled slightly. She stopped in the middle, taking a deep breath.
'Child, just give up. Stop fighting it. Just accept your purpose,' Voldemort hissed.
"No," Adrienne snapped, shaking her head.
"No," she repeated softer, shutting her eyes, a helpless feeling entering her heart, only serving to make her more angry.
Behind her she heard the creak of a hinge and turned to see who had left the tournament. Draco Malfoy, followed by Crabbe and Goyle exited, laughing and muttering something Adrienne couldn't make out. Once the doors shut behind them, they looked up, surprised to see her standing there. Adrienne quickly reached up and brushed away the tears that were beginning to streak down her face.
"What are you looking at?" she demanded coldly.
Malfoy smirked.
"Hmm, it seems to me you've lost again," he drawled, his gray eyes glittering menacingly. "Always knew you were worthless. And I thought you were some kind of hot shot dueler. Unstoppable. Undefeatable."
"Oh, go jump off a cliff," she said with a venomous tone.
"Crying, eh? Why, because you can't do anything right?" Malfoy continued. Crabbe and Goyle stood dumbly behind him. "At least you're worth more than your scar-head friend."
Adrienne's eyes narrowed at this.
"Can I ask a favor? When you're dueling at the Final, do that again. Play dumb like that and just let your opponent curse you. That way hopefully Gryffindor won't be winning. I bet you never thought that when you came here you'd be the downfall of the team, eh? Almost like a traitor. They trusted you because you were some famous dueler, and you betray them all by throwing your matches..."
Whatever Draco was going to say, he never finished. Perhaps it was because Adrienne was already in a horrible mood. Perhaps it was because that was along the same lines as what Voldemort had been telling her; that she'd betray everyone. But whatever it was, Adrienne lost her temper.
It happened much too fast for Draco to see it coming. In an instant Adrienne had covered the space between them and had slammed her fist into his face. Draco stumbled backward into Crabbe and Goyle. He raised his hand to his face and wiped away blood.
"Why you little," he began and then lunged at her, throwing an awkward punch her way. Adrienne's left arm shot up, pushing his punch to the side. Then she quickly rolled her wrist around and grabbed his forearm, pulling him towards her and shoving the heel of her palm into his solarplexes, causing him to double over as the wind flew out of him. She let go of his arm and stepped back, watching him straighten and the glare at her.
At Malfoy's command Crabbe rushed forward and Adrienne turned, sending her foot flying backward into his chest and then flipped back around to watch him fly back with an "Umph."
Malfoy, fully recovered now, and still smarting about his face, lunged at her again, and this time, Adrienne, who was thoroughly enjoying the irrational therapeutic effects of hitting something, punched him again, not as hard as before, just hard enough that he'd bruise really well later. This time Goyle came at her, arms raised and she jumped out of his way, sending him rushing back behind her, confused at her sudden disapperance .
Crabbe, reached into his robes and pulled out his wand, which Adrienne immediately kicked away and then turned her attention back to Malfoy, who was calling her every foul name he could possibly think of. Crabbe turned around and ran back into the Great Hall, quite unknown to Adrienne.
Harry and Taytum were just shaking hands, Taytum congratulating Harry on his win, when Crabbe's scream of "Fight!" echoed through the room. Usually the announcement of "Duel!" was the one to occasionally ring through the Hall, but "Fight!" was a rarity. In an instant the students took to their feet and made a mad rush toward the door, Professors McGonagall and Snape the next to follow, each drawing their wands.
"Excuse me," Professor McGonagall called, pushing through the throngs of students trying desperately to get toward the doors to see the fight.
"OUT OF THE WAY!" bellowed Snape, elbowing every student within reach.
Finally, the two professors, the rest of the professors on the way, made it to the front of the crowd. In the middle of the Entrance Hall stood Adrienne and Draco, who was currently struggling to release his neck from her arms and simultaneously, and not rather successfully, trying to dodge whatever new swipe at his head that she managed to throw in as an extra. Malfoy's eyes flashed with relief when he spotted Snape, but Adrienne seemed to be in a blind rage, oblivious to everything except her irrational urge to hit something.
"Miss Miles!" McGonagall called, walking through the door.
Adrienne leapt into the air and caught the side of Goyle's head, who had just lunged at her from behind, in a kick, sending him crumpling to the ground. Now there was only Malfoy, who was bleeding professedly from his nose and other scrapes on his face.
Malfoy narrowed his eyes, obviously embarrassed and again, tried in vain to hit her. This time Adrienne grabbed his arm stepped to the side and swung him to the ground, pulling his arm behind him. She stood there, breathing heavily, smiling slightly. She felt a lot better now. McGonagall took this moment to rush forward, her eyes flashing, and grab Adrienne by the arms, yanking her backwards. Snape too approached and pulled Draco off the ground, holding him up opposite Adrienne.
Adrienne's eyes widened in shock, her mind beginning to work, the reality of the situation finally coming to terms with her.
"Miss Potter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed, letting go of her and spinning her around to look at her. "What are you doing!"
Adrienne didn't say anything, her jaw just dropped, and she began to shake her head.
"Explain yourselves!" McGonagall snapped, her eyes moving from Adrienne to Malfoy's bloody face.
A livid bruise was forming around his left eye, and he was moaning in pain, looking like the only thing keeping him standing was Professor Snape.
"That, that monster, she just out and attacked me. She tried to kill me!" Draco moaned.
Adrienne didn't say anything in her defense. Her breath was coming in short, panicking breaths, and she dropped to the floor, unable to stand anymore.
"What is going on here?" Professor Dumbledore had now made his way into the Entrance Hall and was looking with a sad expression about the room.
Adrienne's eyes fell shut and she brought her knees to her chest, rested her forehead upon them, and began to cry.
"She attacked me, Headmaster. She tried to kill me!" Draco moaned again.
"Miss Potter, is this true?"
Slowly, through the crowd of students craning their necks from within the Great Hall, whispers of "Potter?" floated among them. Adrienne slowly raised her head and sniffed.
"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean to. It just, it just happened," she whispered.
Back a few feet into the crowd, Parvati and Lavender smiled in extreme delight.
"You should have seen the look on her face. It was something else, almost as if someone was trying to kill her and she was fighting for her life," George added.
Harry turned his back from the discussion taking place.
"What's taking so long?" Ron said, looking down at his watch. Hermione put her elbows on the table and propped up her head.
"Of all the stupid things she could have done," Hermione sighed, "this is it. Dumbledore told her if she got in another fight she'd be expelled."
"You don't think he'd really do that, do you?" Ron asked quickly, his face contorting into a worried expression.
Hermione shook her head, rubbing her temple as if she had a horrendous headache, which she did.
"Rules are rules. I can't see her getting out of this one," she sighed.
Harry didn't say anything; he just sat and listened. Something was bothering Adrienne, and he wished she'd just come out and say what it was. He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Perhaps they shouldn't have gotten mad at her like that, she was having a hard year. Bullocks to that, he thought. He had had worse years. His second year everyone thought him to be the one turning students into stone. And just last year he had to participate in that mad Tri-Wizard Tournament. Her year hadn't been half as bad as that.
The sound of the portrait hole snicking open drew him from his reverie, and he quickly turned his chair to see who had entered.
Adrienne stepped through the portrait hole. Her head was hung low and Harry couldn't see her face, but he didn't need to. Behind her, Professor McGonagall stepped through. Her face was furious and she her eyes were glaring. A murmur drifted through the common room as Adrienne and McGonagall walked through. As Adrienne passed them, she lifted her head and looked at Harry with red, puffy, tear-stained eyes. But once her eyes met his, she quickly looked away. No one spoke to her as she passed them, nor did she say anything, but as she began her ascent up the spiral staircase, Harry, Hermione, and Ron stood up in unison, and followed after in a hurried step.
When Harry arrived at the 5th year girl's dormitory, Adrienne and McGonagall were already in there. Professor McGonagall was standing by Adrienne's four-poster and was watching, with her arms crossed, Adrienne heave her trunk atop her bed. Adrienne then walked around her bed to her bedside cabinet, which she yanked open. Hermione and Ron had now too entered the room and were standing slightly behind Harry.
Adrienne pulled out her broom and tossed it into her trunk. She did the same with her schoolbooks and her clothes. She wasn't even placing them in nicely, and every once in a while, Adrienne would miss her trunk entirely and send something flying into the middle of the room. After Adrienne's running shoes landed on Lavender's bed, Harry took a few steps forward and picked the up, and then slowly made his way over to Adrienne's trunk and placed them inside it. Adrienne didn't notice this, and was currently lying on her stomach and reaching for a pair of pajamas under her bed.
"You can't go, Adrienne," Ron said as she slammed her trunk shut.
Adrienne ignored him and took one final look around her four-poster. She looked quickly at Professor McGonagall and nodded.
"So, you're just going to leave, is that it?" Hermione asked, striding forward.
"If you'll excuse us, Miss Granger, Miss Potter has a port-key waiting for her," Professor McGonagall said, pulling out her wand with intentions of charming Adrienne's trunk to make it feather-light. Hermione stood rooted to her spot, her eyes flickering from Adrienne, who was still wearing her black school robes and was currently staring at her feet, to the trunk that Professor McGonagall was levitating off the bed.
"You can't go," Hermione said urgently, forgetting that she was still angry with her. "Professor, please, don't make her leave."
Harry stared at the scene before him. Adrienne still wasn't looking up, and he had a funny feeling that she was tired of begging and had given up.
"The decision has already been made, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said curtly.
"We're talking about Draco Malfoy here, Professor," Harry exclaimed, stepping forward. "He must have done something to make her attack him."
Professor McGonagall's face softened slightly and Harry knew she had already explored this idea already.
"The only witnesses were Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle," she began, looking away. "They both say that Adrienne started it."
"So we're going on heresy?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Come along, Miss Potter," Professor McGonagall said, choosing to ignore Hermione's comment.
Adrienne began to walk forward, not looking up. She was too angry to look up, too afraid. She was angry with everyone because they didn't understand what was really happening. She was angry with Hermione, Harry, and Ron because they hadn't believed her in the first place. She was angry with herself because she couldn't explain what was happening. She was angry with Voldemort for torturing her like this. And then, she was afraid. She was afraid what the Professors at Salem would say when she arrived. She was afraid what Hermione, Harry, and Ron now thought about her, even though she didn't think their opinions of her could really get any worse. She walked by them without saying goodbye. She was too embarrassed by her own behavior to even face them now, not to mention that she wanted to give each of them a good pop round the head for believing her to be a liar.
"You're taking a port-key?" Ron asked, trying to get Adrienne's attention. "But I thought they taught apparation earlier there. I thought you knew how to Apparate?"
Adrienne stopped in the doorway and gave a hollow laugh.
"That's advanced transfiguration. I still haven't really mastered the first year curriculum," she said blandly without turning around.
Adrienne and McGonagall left the room in silence.
"She could have at least said good-bye," he said angrily.
Hermione sighed and looked up at Harry with blurring eyes.
"Perhaps we shouldn't have gotten mad at her," Harry suggested dulling, walking towards Hermione.
Hermione shook her head slowly.
"No, she should have told us what was going on, we might have been able to help her," she said ruefully.
"I can't believe she left without saying good-bye," Ron said, voicing his main concern at the moment.
"I can't believe she left, period," Harry answered.
The three lapsed into silence and stood awkwardly in the dark room.
'WHAT DID YOU DO!'
Adrienne had been wondering when Voldemort was going to realize that she had been returned to Salem. Despite her foul mood, she laughed slightly: This had to put some sort of horrible kink in his plan.
"And it's all your fault," she replied aloud, turning around in the path, taking in the familiar surroundings.
'You will pay dearly for this, Perfect,' Voldemort spat.
"You leave me alone," she whispered dangerously, narrowing her eyes, feeling quite a bit more confidant after her romp with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.
' Don't you threaten me,' Voldemort hissed, his tone the lowest she had ever heard it.
Adrienne blinked several times.
"Fine, have it your way." And with that she turned on her heel and began to march slowly up toward Salem, levitating her trunk behind her, her black Hogwarts robes whipping around her legs in the breeze.
"Oh, I'm in for it now," she whispered, suddenly more afraid of what she'd meet when she reached the school, than she was of what Voldemort might do to her.
She had the funny feeling as if his grasp, his control of her, was weaker. She had no idea why, but the longer she remained angry (though she had calmed down significantly from the last time that she had hit Draco) the easier it felt to stand up to him. She made a mental note to keep that in mind, and then took a deep breath and pushed the gates to the Salem grounds open.