Author's note: Hello hello, I hope you are all doing well and that autumn is being kind to you. I'm quite excited (and scared) about next week's chapter, but for now, a bit more about Annabel's plan, and about Tom's feelings. Thank you for following/favouriting this story as always.
May 1944 - Never Cast a Clout 'Till May Is Out
"How about another?"
"One last" conceded the Slytherin.
The man reached for the two shot glasses before he pranced towards the liquor cabinet.
"One last for the road" he grinned before his stubby fingers uncorked the glass bottle in a pop and filled the boy's glass to the brim. He made his way back to the sofa and placed the two glasses on the coffee table as he heavily fell on the furniture.
"I certainly don't want to hold you hostage for too long"
"Far be it from me to wish to flee"
Tom grabbed the small crystal glass that stood in front of him with a polite smile. He tried not to glance at his watch, for he knew he was already late for his round, and a confirmation of the sort would only add to his nervousness.
"By the way, I heard from Professor Merrythought that you asked whether she intended to hire any assistant at the end of next year…"
The Slytherin brought the drink to his lips, suddenly concerned by his teacher's words. The latter's brows were furrowed like each time something was troubling him.
"Certainly your grades in Defence Against the Dark Arts are quite extraordinary, just like in every other discipline. The Headmaster himself said he has never seen a student so gifted in his entire career"
"However, Tom" Slughorn sighed before he stooped towards the young man.
"You do not want to end up stranded in Hogwarts... Trust me. Such an occupation might seem appealing from the outside, but from an insider's point of view, a professorship in this school is far from gratifying. And I'm not even talking about the meagre salary-"
"If I may, Professor, having the chance to instil knowledge in people is worth even the merest wage" interjected Tom.
He composed a virtuous look on his face but Slughorn had a patronising smile that made him stiffen.
"I know, you are extremely good at it. I only received positive feedback from your previous tutorship. Yet, Tom, you are young and talented. You should go explore the world, find yourself a position that will exploit your high potential"
"I will write you a recommendation letter for whichever position you will seek after school, but trust me…"
Slughorn let out a small presumptuous laugh.
"… your place is not in that decrepit castle"
—
Tom's footsteps echoed in the entrance hall as he went down the marble staircase, his fist still clenched. The corridors were empty at this hour, and his shadow was projected on the walls in the flickering light.
His patrolling partner was sick - a regrettable accident during her Quidditch weekly practice - but Tom was thankful for such fortunate solitude. At least, this gave him the time to reflect over Slughorn's words.
He knew his Head of House would have disagreed with his decision to remain at Hogwarts, partly because it deprived the old man from using him like a pawn. The latter intended to place him somewhere in the Ministry, where he could call himself responsible for the young man's amazing abilities, pretend that Tom's genius was his own. "I shaped him all those years" he could hear him say already, for Tom knew the old man fairly well by now… He had always indulged in Slughorn's little games, swaggering, wagging his tail only to please his Head of House... As far as he could get something in return.
Lately, though, Tom's feeling of being nothing but a show animal was overbearing. If the efforts he invested with the old man proved fruitless, he would have to disrupt the hierarchy and talk to Dippet himself.
The Slytherin reached the heavy entrance door which he unlocked with a spell, the latter magically opening in a squeak. Patrolling the park was requested in the milder months, for students liked to loiter by the lake far past dusk.
Yet, that evening, no student was to be found outside, to the exception of a silhouette he noticed from the corner of his eyes.
Yet, as always, Tom pretended like he had not seen her.
Because doing otherwise meant that he would have to speak to her.
Something he had not done since February.
Tom sighed, annoyed by her presence, even though it was not the first time that he saw her out of her dorm past the curfew. He remembered the first time he had noticed her, a few weeks ago, as he was heading just like now towards the entrance hall. He had been patrolling the corridors that night as well, until he had spotted a cloaked silhouette sneak behind the heavy front door, a blue velvet cape that had rustled against the stone floor. He had stalked her from afar, without knowing who she was, until he had noticed it, her unmistakable gait, graceful yet troubled, and he had known it was her, for Annabel Sybil Selwyn always walked like she carried the world on her shoulders.
The young man ran a hand through his hair, a lump growing in his throat.
What if something happened to her as she stood alone in the forest? What if she hurt herself, and no one was around?
He loathed himself, for such irrational thoughts that had never truly left him, for his constant worry.
Tom had hoped that taking his distance would provide him with some relief, and he had gone as as far as to ask their Herbology teacher to assign him another team partner for the herbarium project, a demand that had been thankfully accepted without his having to babble foolish excuses.
Yet Annabel was always there, in the corner of his mind.
He recalled how he had found her asleep at the library once, on the last day of the Easter holidays, her head resting on her folded arms, peaceful if not for the goose bumps that had covered her skin, because of course she was wearing little clothes, and her sleeves were rolled up, and he had stood there, in the middle of the alley for a while. "Silly girl, what would you do without me?" he had chastised her silently, upset by her helplessness, before he had finally walked towards her and grabbed the jacket that hung from the back of her chair, and gently placed it on the girl's shoulders.
Oh, how hard it had been for him that day, not to have his hands linger on her shoulders, not to kiss the crown of her head.
Tom gritted his teeth as he finally decided to cut his round short to head to his bedroom, from which he had an unobstructed view on the park. For just like every other night when he had spotted Annabel head to the Forbidden Forest, he would sit by the window and wait for her to come out, to see her make it to the castle safe and sound.
—
Annabel waited until she was far enough in the woods to cast a wand-lighting charm.
She had heard the heavy wooden door of the entrance squeak, which had forced her to hasten her pace, yet, when she had peeked over her shoulder once she was concealed by the trees, she had not seen anyone in the park.
Perhaps was it a renegade, who just like her deemed that this stupid curfew was by far less important than their plan… Because surely, hers was worth a few nocturnal escapades.
The girl walked further into the depths of the forest, her cloak rustling behind her. Once past the oak tree, she took off her cape, hung it from a branch. She knew she did not risk meeting anyone in the forest, especially not at this hour, and she had no need to conceal her identity any further. Besides, she ought to be as quiet as possible in order not to scare the creature she intended to approach.
She walked thirty good minutes, heading West, until a pond showed behind the row of trees, its water scintillating from a hundred fireflies. There they were, those beasts, exquisite, solid and graceful, with their delicate features and the haughty way they bore their neck.
They were three, their coat glistening in the darkness. A family, thought Annabel, as her eyes settled on the youngest one. Just like hers.
Annabel stayed concealed in the darkness for a while, enjoying the scenery, and she felt a pang in her chest at the thought of what she was about to do.
"It's just a little bit of blood" she told herself, before she furtively headed in the direction of the pond. As if the sixth sense of the animals was not enough to give her away, a dry branch cracked under her foot as she stepped forward.
Such signal sounded the alarm, and the beasts began to run. Annabel drew her wand, pointed it to the youngest that fell down in a harrowing sound, a plaintive moan escaping its muzzle. Annabel winced, before she quickly headed towards the young unicorn.
"I'm sorry" she said as she grabbed the halter she had made out of some rope that she had found in the glass house.
The creature showed little resistance, and Annabel pulled on the lead, forcing the beast to stand up. She casted a spell for the rope to attach itself to the nearest tree while she took a knife out of her pocket. She had blackmailed a house elf whom she had found slacking off, sleeping on a flour sack in the kitchen's storage room. "Go fetch me the sharpest knife you've got if you still want to be working here tomorrow" she had said between gritted teeth, gathering her most threatening voice.
She stroked the unicorn's flank to distract it from the pain as she pressed the blade on the beast's shoulder. Yet, the animal cried when she cut the thick skin.
"It's almost over" she whispered as she pulled out a vial from her pocket which she uncorked with her teeth and held under the wound. A few seconds later, a viscous liquid escaped from the notch.
"I have no other choice" she stated out loud, as if to convince herself, and once the vial was full, she put back the cork and searched for the branch of tea tree she had prepared. She threw a handful of leaves she had teared inside her mouth and the peculiar taste filled her taste buds as she began to chew. She spitted the content of her mouth in her palm once the plant turned into a paste and she rubbed the ointment in the wound.
The unicorn pinned its ears back to its neck and its muzzle tightened.
"It's over" whispered Annabel once the beast began to stomp its feet, and she quickly brought the knife to the halter and slid the rope.
The unicorn left with an angry neigh, disappeared in the darkness.
Annabel exhaled to calm herself, her back hitting the trunk behind her. After long minutes, she finally wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and headed back to the oak tree. She fumbled inside the pockets of her cloak, found the jar that contained the rest of the potion that would help her cast the spell. Supposedly.
With fidgeting fingers, Annabel raised the vial in front of her face.
"Please, please work" she silently prayed before she opened the other jar and slid the inside of her palm, held her hand above the glass container which slowly filled with her own blood.
She would add the unicorn's one later, once she had distilled it to ward off the evil eye, just like she had read.
In one month, on the last day of school, it should all be ready.
