19.
The next day passed in a sort of dream. She didn't have the strength to go to classes; Lorna and Diana seemed to be treating her as if she were on the brink of the grave, which didn't improve her temper much. She hadn't told them about what she'd found, she didn't want to put it into words.
The numbness began to disappear, and in its place she felt anger. Rage against those around her who could expect happy, normal lives, who had parents who loved them. It wasn't fair, she thought grimly.
It was afternoon on the second day after Vivian had read the report when Professor McGonagall ordered all students back to their common rooms. Vivian, who had been lying in bed wrapped in a blanket, forced herself to go downstairs to the Ravenclaw common room and find out what was going on.
The common room was abuzz with people talking in worried voices; most of them looked downright scared.
Diana and Lorna came up to her looking grave.
"What happened?" Vivian asked.
"There's been another attack." Diana said. She was looking more shocked than Vivian had ever seen her. "Apparently the heir of Slytherin's taken someone into the chamber of secrets."
"It's Ginny Weasly." Daniel Webster, another Ravenclaw fifth year said, coming over.
"How do you know?" Lorna asked.
"Well that's what everyone's saying."
"They'll have to close the school." Diana said flatly. Vivian felt a sudden feeling of despair.
"I can't believe it." She said stupidly, staring round at the pale and scared looking Ravenclaws. She had lost everything, she realised. If she was sent home from Hogwarts, she had nothing to look forward to except death.
During the strange, miserable day that followed, Vivian could do little except pace the floor of her dormitory, wondering what she could do.
Then she remembered: she had been about four or five; her father was reading to her from one of his books. She remembered the low, rhythmic sound of his voice, the crackling of the fire and the soft sound of the turning pages.
"Unicorn blood," her father read, "will, if you drink it, restore you to life, even if you are on the verge of death."
"Cool! Let's give some to granny," she had said. Her grandmother, her father's mother, was in very poor health. But her father shook his head gravely.
"It's a terrible price to pay for life." He said. Even when he'd explained, how it was a terrible crime to slay a unicorn, she still hadn't grasped the concept of selfishness. Well, she'd been young then.
"Maybe we've read enough for today." Her father said, putting the book back on the shelf.
"I'm going to find a unicorn, and kill it," she had said unrepentantly, "and then granny will be well again."
Her father had laughed ruefully, and from the other side of the room her mother had laughed too, the firelight glinting on her silvery hair.
Now she smiled rather bitterly at the memory, and wondered what to do. She understood the implications of the act: what she would obtain would be a cursed life, and she knew that most people would not understand the reasons for her act. She felt a surge of horrified awe – could she really do something so terrible to secure her own life?
I'm NOT going to die. She thought fiercely, clenching her fists. Not now, when life was suddenly so much more interesting. She reflected that her life had hardly been enviable. She had spent almost a decade as a hopeless invalid, and she had no intention of returning to that life.
She gazed at the empty beds of her three friends, her mind made up.
Franticly, she began to hunt round the room for certain books she had inherited from her mother. She flung them into a rucksack and, pocketing her wand, she reached under her bed and drew out her violin.
"Dear Lorna & Diana," she scrawled hurriedly "I'm sorry. I had to borrow Lorna's broom-"
Then she ripped up the note in disgust. She couldn't think what to say. She shrugged regretfully and, seizing Lorna's broom, clambered onto the windowsill.
Five minutes later she was speeding over the darkening forest.
The next day passed in a sort of dream. She didn't have the strength to go to classes; Lorna and Diana seemed to be treating her as if she were on the brink of the grave, which didn't improve her temper much. She hadn't told them about what she'd found, she didn't want to put it into words.
The numbness began to disappear, and in its place she felt anger. Rage against those around her who could expect happy, normal lives, who had parents who loved them. It wasn't fair, she thought grimly.
It was afternoon on the second day after Vivian had read the report when Professor McGonagall ordered all students back to their common rooms. Vivian, who had been lying in bed wrapped in a blanket, forced herself to go downstairs to the Ravenclaw common room and find out what was going on.
The common room was abuzz with people talking in worried voices; most of them looked downright scared.
Diana and Lorna came up to her looking grave.
"What happened?" Vivian asked.
"There's been another attack." Diana said. She was looking more shocked than Vivian had ever seen her. "Apparently the heir of Slytherin's taken someone into the chamber of secrets."
"It's Ginny Weasly." Daniel Webster, another Ravenclaw fifth year said, coming over.
"How do you know?" Lorna asked.
"Well that's what everyone's saying."
"They'll have to close the school." Diana said flatly. Vivian felt a sudden feeling of despair.
"I can't believe it." She said stupidly, staring round at the pale and scared looking Ravenclaws. She had lost everything, she realised. If she was sent home from Hogwarts, she had nothing to look forward to except death.
During the strange, miserable day that followed, Vivian could do little except pace the floor of her dormitory, wondering what she could do.
Then she remembered: she had been about four or five; her father was reading to her from one of his books. She remembered the low, rhythmic sound of his voice, the crackling of the fire and the soft sound of the turning pages.
"Unicorn blood," her father read, "will, if you drink it, restore you to life, even if you are on the verge of death."
"Cool! Let's give some to granny," she had said. Her grandmother, her father's mother, was in very poor health. But her father shook his head gravely.
"It's a terrible price to pay for life." He said. Even when he'd explained, how it was a terrible crime to slay a unicorn, she still hadn't grasped the concept of selfishness. Well, she'd been young then.
"Maybe we've read enough for today." Her father said, putting the book back on the shelf.
"I'm going to find a unicorn, and kill it," she had said unrepentantly, "and then granny will be well again."
Her father had laughed ruefully, and from the other side of the room her mother had laughed too, the firelight glinting on her silvery hair.
Now she smiled rather bitterly at the memory, and wondered what to do. She understood the implications of the act: what she would obtain would be a cursed life, and she knew that most people would not understand the reasons for her act. She felt a surge of horrified awe – could she really do something so terrible to secure her own life?
I'm NOT going to die. She thought fiercely, clenching her fists. Not now, when life was suddenly so much more interesting. She reflected that her life had hardly been enviable. She had spent almost a decade as a hopeless invalid, and she had no intention of returning to that life.
She gazed at the empty beds of her three friends, her mind made up.
Franticly, she began to hunt round the room for certain books she had inherited from her mother. She flung them into a rucksack and, pocketing her wand, she reached under her bed and drew out her violin.
"Dear Lorna & Diana," she scrawled hurriedly "I'm sorry. I had to borrow Lorna's broom-"
Then she ripped up the note in disgust. She couldn't think what to say. She shrugged regretfully and, seizing Lorna's broom, clambered onto the windowsill.
Five minutes later she was speeding over the darkening forest.