Yay! It's another LOOONG chapter! (This one was 25 pages double-spaced, 14 normal. Oh well, lucky you I guess!)
DISCLAIMER: EVERYTHING belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling (who, I believe has just turned in her "Order of the Phoenix" manuscript… since its been given a release date of June 21st 2003!! DOUBLE YAY!). However, Alexander, Sarissa, Ariadne, Cassius, Nicolette and Roxane Malfoy, Vivien Travers, Edward Moss, Professor Cendric, Professor David, Geraldine, Roland and Benjamin Mulciber (excluding their last name), Raoul Snape (ditto), Christian Jacobs, Raïssa Garne, Mr. Norman and Clarice Jacobs, and the very cool Bernard, Emilie, Heléne and Rosaline de Pélagrie.
Okay, "Spook-ki-ki-kee" is from The Talented Mr. Ripley FILM (Dickie/Jude Law says it on the train to San Remo); and does anyone else see some little correlations between my interpretation of the young Lucius Malfoy with the young Michael Corleone (from "The Godfather". In the film I'm talking about Al Pacino). A little bit of necessity, I suppose.
Well, HAVE FUN—and don't forget to review "By The Light Of The Moon"!
***
First Year
October 20th, 1970
Dearest Mother,
I still can't believe I am actually here, at Hogwarts, writing to you—from my first-year dormitory, my blue pillow propped up behind me and my friends screeching downstairs as they try to finish their Potions homework… it still seems like a dream, Mother.
Thankyou for your letter, and for Grandfather's—Lucius and Sarissa keep cornering me in the hallways, disbelief in their eyes—and for your happiness that, not Slytherin, but Ravenclaw has called me home. Sarissa was saddened that I wouldn't be with her this year; I think she was counting on me since she fought with Vivien last year but I am sure that she will soon make new friends. She said that, even so, "brains can be better than ambition," and your letters relieved me of my worry. Evan, whenever I see him about, has taken to calling me 'Loony Lupin', since I must be crazy if I'm not in Slytherin. He's such an idiot!
So far, most of my schoolwork has been above-average, or so my professors say. I adore Potions; something about it is satisfying, that there is always a right answer, and a right way to preparing a cauldron. However, Professor McGonagall believes that I need to work extra-hard in Transfiguration, which I can't seem to grasp. I simply don't see the point in turning snuff boxes into mice—it always gives me a dead feeling in my stomach. But I will do my best, for you, Grandfather and for Uncle Cassius. How is Aunt Nicolette, by the way? I hope she has recovered from her flu, since I would like to see her again at Christmas time, if I come home, that is. Don't be shocked, Mother—as I'm writing this I practically feel the daggers you are shooting towards Hogwarts for making me want to stay… Edward Moss, who has three older sisters at Hogwarts, tells me that Mr. Ogg, the gameskeeper, and Mr. Hagrid bring gigantic fir trees into the Great Hall and light them with millions of tiny candles on the branches. I'd love to see it for myself.
I'm feeling a little weak, but thankyou for your concern, Mother. On the fifteenth I was given a small room in the dungeon, due to the fact that the Whomping Willow was still being tamed by Professor Sprout. Professor McGonagall made excuses, saying I was rather ill with the flu (caught from Aunt Nicolette, no doubt…) and needed seclusion in the Hospital Wing—no visitors allowed. My transformation was as usual, a little more painful than it used to be but I suppose that is natural? I'll have to ask Madam Pomfrey; she'd likely know more about it than me, or Mr. Ogg when he collects me for my first descent under the Willow. That's Black Friday, Mother—how fitting.
My friends don't suspect a thing—and all the better for them, really. Edward—I met him on the train, Mother, I think you'd like him—is one of the Canterbury Mosses, and the only way he'd ever be dangerous is if he made me laugh in Defence Against the Dark Arts… Professor Mulciber is quite strict, really. Apparently he knows Uncle Cassius, so he likes me reasonably well. My other good friend, Narcissa Lestrange, reminds me of Sarissa—minus the boy-craziness of a few years ago. The three of us rule the other first-year Ravenclaws, but then they're all too bookish for us! Never want to have any fun, worst luck… I'd like to invite Edward and Narcissa over this summer, if it's alright with you and with Grandfather.
Lucius is studying hard this year, or so Sarissa tells me—I don't know about that, but the first Quidditch Match of the season was on last Saturday, Slytherin versus Hufflepuff, and Lucius was definitely Wizard of the Match! He's a Chaser, as you know, but he's played reserve up until now apparently, only ever playing when someone breaks their arm and doesn't want to go on—which doesn't happen often! I felt really proud to see my Uncle, slicing through the cooling air, Quaffle in his hand ready to pitch it through the goal posts! It was such an exciting match that everyone cheered on Slytherin, despite disliking them so intensely… which is something I don't understand, Mother. Have they always felt like that? Why is Slytherin the hated one, Gryffindor the uplifted one, Hufflepuff the downtrodden and Ravenclaw the clever house? I'd rather be a Slytherin than a Gryffindor—but I'm a Ravenclaw, so it doesn't really matter anyway. Lucius secured the match, anyway, so I'm sure Grandfather will be especially proud of his victory. And Uncle Cassius, and Aunt Nicolette, and Sarissa and—you. Mother, having a large family isn't always the greatest thing, but other times it feels better having a lot of people behind you, supporting you… making you feel worthwhile. I love it right now.
Give my love to everyone, and tell them that, "YES!—Hogwarts is everything I ever imagined!"
Remus.
***
November 12th, 1970, 5:33pm
The Great Hall was alive with life and laughter as Remus sat down to dinner with his two best friends. Edward was attempting to describe the strange boy he'd noticed glaring at him from the Slytherin table while Narcissa and Remus giggled softly into their pumpkin juice and mushroom pie.
"So, he had black hair then, Ed? Sounds spooky…!" Narcissa waved her hands around in the air, Edward tossing his head as he pretended to laugh.
"Really, you guys—I'm being serious!"
Remus began tapping his index finger on the edge of the table, imitating a drum beat. "Spook-ki-ki-kee…"
This time Narcissa snorted her pumpkin juice across the table, the majority of it landing on Edward's robes. As he wiped them dry, with an annoyed smirk at Narcissa, he noticed Professor McGonagall appear behind Remus' head, a sombre look on her pale face. "Good Evening, Professor," he mumbled as he scrubbed at the wet patches with the edge of his napkin.
Turning to look up at her, Remus noticed Professor McGonagall's lips purse in consternation as she began to speak. "Evening, Moss, Lestrange." She then glanced down at Remus, and her eyes flickered toward the ceiling of the Hall, in which an almost-full moon rose in the sky. "Master Lupin, I am sorry to tell you that your Grandmother has just passed away." Remus' mouth gaped; not only as he knew he must, but at the reference to his long-dead grandmother.
"My Grandmother?" He looked to Edward and Narcissa, who were gazing at him, sorrowful eyes full of condolence and feeling. Remus felt a lone tear trickle down his cheek at the thought of his Nana, still alive and leaving him only on this day, with so much more wisdom imparted to him. Wiping it away with his fingers, he stood awkwardly in his seat, staring deeply into the mess of pastry crumbs and gravy smears on his plate.
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat brusquely then patted Remus' back reassuringly. "Your Mother has requested that you return home immediately—for the funeral." Gripping Remus' arm, she smiled weakly down at Edward and Narcissa. "He should be back at school by Saturday Night, Sunday Morning—would you please collect his class notes in the meantime?" Remus could only suppose they nodded; it seemed years before he noticed his feet moving beneath him, the cacophony of the Great Hall descending into the silence of autumnal twilight.
A soft breeze blew across his face as he exited the castle; Remus felt his blood growing warm, his skin tingle as he anticipated his transformation. This was to be his first time in the old shack that had been chosen for him—and he was sure it would be preferable to the previous two transformations, each unfolding in the damp Slytherin dungeons underneath Hogwarts. McGonagall left him near the Whomping Willow, where Groundskeeper Ogg greeted him with a warm smile. Remus felt better already just at the sight of the little, round man with the wispy grey beard and the dirty trousers.
"Good ter see yer again, Master Lupin." Ogg pulled the boy towards him and gestured to a long, knobbly stick in his right hand. "We'll be needin' this, m'boy. Tonight I'll be showin' yer how ter get in the Shack—the hardest part, actually. Now, stand back."
Remus watched intently as Ogg crept along close to the ground and thrust the stick at a seemingly innocuous knot in the tree. To his surprise, the Whomping Willow stretched its gyrating branches up into the air, holding them there, stiff and unmoving, momentarily. Ogg grasped his arm firmly and pushed him through a gap between the roots, causing Remus to slide several feet into the small, dank passageway below.
Standing to brush the dirt from his robes, and hitting his head on the ceiling of the tunnel in the process, Remus saw Ogg descend after him, and rubbed his head to dull the pain. They travelled the remainder of the tunnel wordlessly; Ogg's heavy breathing filling the stale air with a buzzing noise not unlike that Remus often heard from his bedroom in the summertime—mosquitos, crickets and frogs chirping out into the humid night. Several minutes later they reached a heavy wooden door that led into the basement of the Shrieking Shack, which would inevitably become his monthly haunt for the next seven years.
Ogg grinned as he entered, and gestured to the room beyond. It was furnished sparsely, a few pieces of rough furniture cluttering the dusty floor. Remus knew that it would not be long before those chairs and table were beyond repair; the heat was growing interminably within his veins, like volcanic lava ready to spew forth at any moment. He took a deep breath and smiled back at the groundskeeper, before seating himself on the nearest wooden chair. Ogg accepted his invitation and sat himself opposite, rocking on his heels as Remus sighed and waited.
"So, Master Lupin—are yer liking 'Ogwarts so far?"
Remus stared at the floor, studying the grain of the wood intently. "Yes… it still feels like a dream to be here. I can't thank Dumbledore—and everyone else—enough for taking the time, and the risk, of allowing me to come here. I can't believe it."
Ogg beamed heartily at him, and Remus felt his ears turn red with the attention. "Albus Dumbledore's a good man, alright. He's the best thing ter happen ter 'Ogwarts; Professor Dippet was losing his grip on the place, yer know? And he was very ol' fashioned—I'll bet yer got yerself a nasty response from him, if yer mother approached him about sendin' yer here."
"Yes, she did. Grandfather was very angry—he spoke as if I were a squib, and said it was hardly worth training someone such as myself. I—" Remus trailed off into thought, and Ogg looked at him curiously. "Well, I lost hope after that. I felt as if Hogwarts would always be closed to me; that I'd be an outcast forever. Especially… well, my family…"
"Aye, I remember yer Grandfather. Good man, he always was, but set his sights a little too high fer his own good, if yer know what I mean. Couldn't really see the diff'rence twixt the ligh' and the dark—got him in a fair bit o' trouble, if I remember rightly." Ogg leaned back in his chair and stretched languidly, not appearing in the least fazed that the full moon might rise at any moment. "That was long ago, o' course—an' it's a diff'rent world, all a bit wiser, if yer ask me."
Remus nodded slowly, not really understanding the 'troubles' to which Ogg referred. "Do you remember my mother, Ogg?"
A laugh escaped the man and Remus glanced up at him in surprise. "Aye, if she weren't the prettiest thing this side o' Edinburgh! An' always bein' sweet an' kind, not like yer usual Slytherin, I might add. Her brother, yer uncle Cassius, weren't bad either. They all had some honour in 'em, knew how ter behave—not that they didn' get inter scrapes, they weren't perfect, oh no… jus' diff'rent. Both real popular, too, never had a real enemy twixt 'em. Yer uncle, I reckon, he came right after the terror, himself."
"The terror?" Remus sat up, his eyes fixed on the older man, as he felt a rush of pain tingle in his fingertips. "What do you mean?"
Ogg shook his head. "Not ter speak o' it—a girl died, yer see. That was the same year Hagrid came ter work fer me, as my apprentice. The darkest days o' 'Ogwarts, if not fer Albus Dumbledore. They almost closed the school until a Prefect, Riddle somethin'-or-other, foun' the culprit an' Professor Dippet had him expelled. Serious business, that—why I don' speak o' it, myself."
There was a pause as Remus digested the information Ogg had just given him. Was Hogwarts really that dangerous—that someone could die here? With a cynical, inward laugh he thought of himself, and how others might view him as being a murderer. Was he a werewolf, or some other dark thing, unbeknownst to everyone else? How did the girl die…? Was it quick, instant death—or the type one might suffer at my own hands? Remus looked at the wristwatch he wore, and sighed emphatically. Ogg noticed a nervous twitch beginning to develop in his hands, and rose to leave.
"Well, Master Lupin, I'd best be gettin' back—nice ter speak ter yer, an' I'll see yer again in a day or two, alright?" He seemed to be moving towards the heavy wooden door very quickly, and Remus felt solid pain kick him in the stomach. Smiling weakly at the man, he doubled over and watched as Ogg opened the door, as a question came to mind.
"Ogg," Remus murmured, glancing up at the man who had pulled out his wand to magically lock the door. "Do you remember anyone by the name of Raoul Snape? He was… a friend of my mother's."
A flood of memories splashed through the groundskeeper's mind—and he saw Raoul's face; strong, pale, handsome, staring at him as if from the depths of hell. Ogg grinned, and nodded to Remus.
"Aye, Raoul. I remember him. Maybe, Master Lupin… that's a tale fer another time, not now." Remus sighed again, and Ogg closed the door on him, the door solidly locked, charmed and bolted behind him. Raoul Snape… he thought, the grin still evident on his lined face, what a question to ask!
***
December 25th, 1970, 6:49am
The wind was blowing a gale around Ravenclaw Tower when Remus awoke in his dormitory, snow piling heavily on the windowsills and the ground below. His bed felt warm from sleep, and drawing the covers closer to himself, Remus smiled happily at the thought of Christmas—Edward snoring softly in the adjacent bed, the squeals of several excited first-years downstairs almost drowned out by the whistling of the wind as it circled, leapt and jumped through the snowflakes. Remus savoured the moment gleefully, his heartbeat racing and hands shaking. Everything is perfectly… and his thought was interrupted by pounding footsteps echoing up the dormitory stairs, ending with a bang as Narcissa flung the door open, letting a gust of icy air into the room.
"Remus, Ed—come on, wake up, you lazy gits!"
She then proceeded to jump on top of Edward, who grunted angrily as his eyes flickered open. "What—oh, it's you, Cissie." He grinned sleepily at her as she pulled Remus' bed-drapes aside.
"I'm up, I'm up—" Remus trailed off as Narcissa began pitching Edward's presents at him and he sank back into his warm quilt, humming to himself as he ignored Edward's annoyed exclamations.
After a moment he rose and strode over to the foot of his own bed, where a small pile of presents lay in brightly-coloured wrapping. The top few were from his friends, as well as Lucius and Sarissa, the latter of whom had sent him what looked like an interesting book about advanced transfiguration. That is, if I ever pass first year—but on Christmas Day, the last thing entering Remus' mind was the thought of school. Lucius had conspired with Evan Rosier and sent Remus an exploding package, which flew around the dormitory, bouncing off the pale-blue walls and waking all those who were seemingly immune to Narcissa and Edward's prior shrieks. When it finally landed and revealed its contents, Remus was pleased to discover a set of parchment and quills labelled as Zonko's Magical Parchment: Handle with Care. His Mother had sent several packages of Cauldron Cakes, knowing that Remus despised mince pies, along with a new set of dress-robes, sparkling and shifting from dark purple to navy blue, which Remus pulled over his head immediately.
Narcissa glanced over at Remus, smiling and laughing. "Ooh, Remus! Those are gorgeous!" Moving forward, she touched the fabric and let the material run through her long, tapered fingers. "Beautiful…"
"Beautiful…" Edward echoed, mockingly, and Narcissa glared back. "Hey, Remus—what's that?" He pointed towards a long, knobbly present carefully wrapped in silver paper. Eagerly, Remus tore the wrapping away and the three of them gaped at what lay before them on the floor.
Narcissa spoke first. "Wow."
A green, shining broomstick sat with its silver name gleaming up at them—
"A Cleansweep Seven!" Edward jumped out of his bed and landed, sprawling, on the floor. "Who sent you that?"
Shaking slightly with excitement, Remus pulled a small card from the torn paper, which read:
Remus,
To help you practice your beating… I've noticed Lucius is not one to share. Though normally first-years aren't allowed broomsticks, Professor Dumbledore believed this might lift your spirits. Use it well.
Uncle Cassius
"It's from my uncle," Remus said haltingly, "he loves Quidditch too."
Narcissa furrowed her brow slightly. "I thought first-years weren't allowed—"
As she was interrupted by Edward's long-winded speech concerning the Chudley Cannons recently investing in a set of Cleansweep Seven's in the lead-up to the World Cup—to aid their already burgeoning talent, of course—Remus simply stared down at his Uncle's looped, sloping script on the card. His head seemed flushed with words to describe it, wonderful, fantastic, smashing…
"Perfect," he murmured to himself softly, as Narcissa and Edward fought over a Cauldron Cake. Everything is perfectly perfect.
***
February 28th, 1971
Dearest Mother,
The Holidays were fantastic, as usual, but part of me is glad to be getting down to work once more. Thankyou very much for the dress robes—Narcissa was very envious! Her mother is always sending her pink ones, a colour she despises… something Edward teases her about endlessly, I assure you! Also, send many, many thanks to Uncle Cassius for his gift; Madam Hooch believes that, with some practice, I might be strong enough to try out for the Quidditch Team next year.
Professor McGonagall has begun coaching me in Transfiguration—I'll probably never understand it entirely, but I'm less of a dunce at it now than when I started! Meanwhile, my latest Potions assessment went very well, leaving me on an average of two-hundred and ninety-eight percent; Professor Cendric wants to move me up into third year Potions next year, since I'm flying through the textbook like a natural(which she believes I am). She's also asked me to coach a few Hufflepuff's in the Easter Holidays, Christian Jacobs and Raïssa Garne. So, you probably won't see me back at the Malfoy Manor until June, worst luck!
Edward and Narcissa have both written to their parents concerning the Summer Hols, so if July is fine for you, Uncle Cassius and Grandfather, they'll come to stay with us then. Sarissa will be pleased by the company—she's become rather withdrawn lately, despite Lucius and Evan's attempts to encourage her. Of course, this tends to include letting Dungbombs off in her dormitory, sending Neptune downstairs yowling madly. I'd love for her to bring some friends home this summer as well—even Vivien Travers would be welcome, I believe, if it meant she'd have someone to talk to. She's even more bookish than me, if you can believe that Mother! Nothing like the giggly girl of two years ago, and it makes me feel strange to think of her that way. I hope something changes for her soon.
My next transformation should be uneventful, as usual—March 12th, in case you had forgotten. I wish you wouldn't worry so much; although the Shack is looking a little worse for wear—and my illnesses/emergencies are becoming a little unbelievable—no one suspects, and no one would even think of such a thing! Dumbledore has placed threats of expulsion around the Whomping Willow(as well as a broken shoulder or two, in some cases), and few would dare to challenge his word. Smile, Mother!—even though I know right now you're probably about to scratch my eyes out because you're such a worry-wart!
Give my love to all—and reassure Aunt Nicolette towards Sarissa. She simply hasn't found friend's worth fighting for… yet.
Remus
***
My first, innocuous year at Hogwarts was certainly the simplest I ever attended. Of the seven that would follow, our world would change in ways many had never imagined or would understand. Some would fall, some would conquer—and some would be defeated that yet triumph silently.
Although I had lost Severus, my first friend and one who had immeasurably changed my life, Edward Moss and Narcissa Lestrange were inevitably entangled within my years at Hogwarts. Later, one would fight by my side as the other gave into submission… and left what could be construed as a simple life behind. Narcissa's fate became part of my own, and that of my family, the summer following our first year. Her parents would one day be famous for unspeakable acts, her brother mindless and alone, destroyed by his own inner hatred.
Lucius, with his clever mind and light spirit, did study hard during his fifth year at Hogwarts. Although I received awards for the majority of my subjects—excluding Transfiguration, of course—Lucius was working for a higher power than I, hoping to please merely my mother and my Uncle. Lucius got his O.W.L.'s, all nine framed and hung happily within the trophy room in the Malfoy Manor, so that his Father—my Grandfather—might look upon him as a son, an heir, and ultimately a confidant. He had heard whispers through the Manor late at night, an unnamed fear spreading far and wide that merely excited his Father and Brother.
My first year passed, not in a flash of garish, insolent lights that are soon forgotten… but in the shape of snowflakes, fluttering on the breeze, each one so precious and individual that it remains in the mind as a jewel, sparkling no matter which way the shadows glance off it.
And, to show his appreciation for his son's achievement, my Grandfather hosted a ball for Lucius' sixteenth birthday—the day which would change the course of his life, of mine, of all who attended… forever.
***
July 2nd, 1971, 7:56pm
"Hey, Loony Lupin!"
Evan Rosier grinned as the younger boy sidled past him, his two friends whispering between themselves and giggling conspiratorially. Turning to Lucius, whose face seemed bright and shining in the hall-light, he pursed his lips and nudged his best friend hard in the ribs. "What?"
"Where's your other cousin, then?" He attempted to speak in his usual off-hand, joking manner, but inside his stomach was turning with the thought of seeing his face reflected in those defensive, violet eyes. "Y'know… Larissa, I thought her name was."
"Sarissa," Lucius corrected, rolling his eyes. "And she's my niece, not my cousin. I don't know where she is…" as he trailed off, Lucius looked at Evan suspiciously. "Why do you care, anyway? You've never taken any notice of her before."
Feeling hot all over his face, like little needles prickling his skin from the inside, Evan shook his head deferentially. "Well… I was just asking, since I always remember Remus, and I just thought that maybe she was ill, or away, or something since I hadn't seen her today and that it was a bit odd, seeing as you're her uncle and all, being away on your birthday." As he finished speaking, Evan laughed nervously, causing Lucius to smirk at his sudden realisation. He grabbed his friend's arm and pulled him into the ballroom.
"Come on, you great git… the guests'll arrive soon, and I've got to be there to greet them. Plus, if you're lucky—maybe Sarissa'll be inside too!" Evan relaxed and laughed again, more naturally this time, allowing himself to be dragged over to where Alexander and Cassius Malfoy stood, discussing something which seemed to be of great importance.
"Father, Cassius—is it almost time?" Lucius interrupted their conversation, but instead of what Evan had expected, annoyed and indulgent smiles from both parties, the two men looked down at Lucius with pleasure, and with pride. Certainly different from my family, Evan thought dismally, hoping against hope that this summer would once more be spent in Malfoy Manor, and away from the small house in Sussex where his infinitely respectable, but terribly poor Wizard parents lived. If Lucius ever met them—well, I don't know what I'd say. 'Here, friend, is where your rich, important, powerful Evan Rosier resides—a small, two-bedroom duplex with an outside toilet—except, of course, when he's holidaying in France, Malta, or even Japan! Unfortunately for Evan, his branch of the Rosier family had fallen into poverty in the past century, due mainly to the fall of Grindelwald in 1945, a Dark Wizard who had promised health, wealth and wisdom to all who followed him. And even now, new fears were escalating as seers prophesised all over the Wizarding World the 'Second Coming', as they called it, of a great Dark Wizard who would destroy all who challenged him. Evan, in his mind, swore to himself that he would never be swayed by the powers of a Dark Lord.
"So, Evan," Cassius spoke, bringing the boy from his reverie, "were you quite as fortunate as our Lucius in your O.W.L. results?"
Forcing a smile, Evan nodded to the man who captured his attention every time he spoke to him. "Yes, sir—only seven, I'm afraid, but my parents were quite pleased."
Cassius nodded, and a trumpet sounded from the orchestral pit, startling Evan considerably. "Very fine work, Mr. Rosier—and I am sure we will see much more of it from you in the future." He patted Evan on the shoulder and wandered off with Lucius to greet the guests the trumpet had announced. Evan wandered off to a round table where Remus, Narcissa Lestrange and Edward Moss were laughing and joking, greeting them with a wave. Remus gestured for him to sit down next to him.
"Thanks," Evan said gratefully, and noticed that a plate appeared in front of him, along with one on his left, the chair of which was not occupied. As he glanced around the table Evan saw small placards, named for the guests that would be sitting at the table. The one next to him read Rosaline de Pélagrie. The name sounded slightly familiar, and it rang in his head as the announcer began to introduce the arriving guests.
"Professor David Mulciber, of Surrey, along with his wife Geraldine and two sons, Roland and Benjamin." Evan recognised his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher immediately, and shuddered at the thought of being placed at a table with him, the one teacher in the faculty who adored Lucius but, for some reason, despised Evan. To his relief, Professor Mulciber was seated at a table across the room after being welcomed by Lucius and his relatives.
"Mr. Norman Jacobs, Minister of Internal Affairs, from Kent, with his daughter Clarice and…" The voice faded out of Evan's mind as he noticed a head of chestnut-brown hair appear in the corner of his eye and he frantically searched the crowd for it once more. As he scrambled about in his seat, Evan saw that the placard next to Ms. Pélagrie was that of Sarissa Malfoy, and he hurriedly changed seats with Rosaline, swapping placards and placing her next to Remus instead. He watched as Sarissa crossed the dance floor tentatively, her mauve dress robes shimmering under the heavy lights. Breathing deeply, he stood and pulled out the chair next to him in a gentlemanly gesture, ignoring the giggling from behind him, undoubtedly Remus' friends making fun of him.
Sarissa looked surprised when she saw Evan standing next to her chair, holding it out for her to sit down next to him. Checking the placard quickly—she was going to kill her mother for seating her there!—she watched Evan resume his seat and turn to look at her. "Hello."
"Hi," Evan felt like an idiot as he sat there, behind him Narcissa and Edward mimicking the interchange with their own additions. "You look beautiful," he breathed softly, so the others wouldn't hear him properly. Sarissa looked away and stared instead at the next group of guests that were being introduced.
"And, our very distinguished guests, the French Minister for Magic Bernard de Pélagrie, from Paris, with his wife Emilie, and daughters Heléne and Rosaline." Sarissa smiled in recognition at Rosaline; she had attended her Preparatory School in Switzerland before leaving for Beauxbatons, Sarissa for Hogwarts. Evan noted the smile and tapped Sarissa on the shoulder.
"She's sitting here, right between Remus and I—she can swap seats with me, if you'd like." Sarissa knew that she would certainly prefer sitting next to Rosaline, a girl she had merely met in the halls of school rather than Evan Rosier, the boy she had adored before she could spell properly. Instead of nodding, however, she shook her head and Evan beamed at her happily.
Dinner proceeded without much excitement, Sarissa ever conscious of Evan's eyes upon her, and Evan drinking in her every movement as languidly as he sipped at the glass of champagne Lucius had set in front of him with a slight smirk. Remus noticed the tension between the two, and murmured to Rosaline, the girl seated on his left, that Sarissa had been besotted with Evan ever since he could remember. All the male eyes in the hall were fixed on Rosaline and her sister, save Evan's, and Remus noted, with a glance to her pale-blonde hair and brown eyes, that she was quite possibly of Veela heritage.
The orchestra, which had played softly during the meal, began to increase their volume as the announcer declared the dance floor open. Lights dimmed and millions of tiny candles were magically lit, creating a romantic atmosphere. A queue of admirers instantly appeared behind Rosaline, and Remus threw away any hope of dancing with the beautiful girl at that moment. Evan immediately grasped Sarissa's hand when she consented to dance with him, and, to Remus' surprise, he saw Narcissa stand with Lucius and follow him to the centre of the floor.
Evan held Sarissa tightly as they danced a slow waltz, his heart beating faster than the tempo the music, causing him to stumble occasionally and he cursed himself for refusing the dancing lessons his mother had offered as a luxury when he was younger. Sarissa merely smiled and hoped that he wouldn't spoil the moment by stepping on one of her feet. As they twirled past Lucius and Narcissa, Sarissa noticed that Lucius was quite enraptured by the young girl, despite the presence of Rosaline and Heléne de Pélagrie, who seemed to have captured the hearts of the entire male attendance. Strange that he should choose to dance his first dance with her, rather than one of the more beautiful girls, she thought, and unthinkingly grinned at Evan who nearly fell over her in his excitement.
"Sarissa," he whispered, and her breath caught in her throat, "why have you been avoiding me?"
"What do you mean?" she asked as she quickly side-stepped his left foot.
He pursed his lips and looked away at Remus, who was now dancing with Clarice Jacobs, another Hogwarts first-year. "For the past year—longer, actually, since the Christmas before—you've been avoiding me. If I say anything to you in the halls, you just stare at the ground and walk away. Why?"
Sarissa's skin prickled at the memory. "Well, you've never taken any interest in me before, so I didn't think it mattered—"
"Is this to do with that Travers ninny? Telling you that I thought you were immature? I mean… back then—" Suddenly, Sarissa wrenched free of his grasp and ran across the ballroom and back into the main house, Evan following her closely. "Sarissa!" he yelled once he was back in the hall, and heard heavy footsteps upstairs, and the slam of a door. When he reached her bedroom on the second floor, the bolt was drawn across and he banged on the door mercilessly. "Sarissa, please—it was years ago! You used to follow us around all the time, of course Lucius and I thought you were annoying!"
A sob reverberated inside the room, and Evan felt like kicking himself. "Just go away!" Sarissa yelled through the closed door, and buried her face in her pillow, muffling her tears. Outside, Evan pulled out his wand and pointed it to where he supposed the bolt was—I can't wait for the Ministry to get a hold of this, underage usage of Magic for totally selfish reasons—and whispered, "Alohomora," causing the door to fly open. Sarissa looked up, her face red and blotchy from weeping, then covered her face. "Get out! I told you to go away!"
Closing the door behind him, Evan laughed bitterly. "People don't always do what you tell them to, I'm afraid." He sat himself down on the end of her bed and looked at Sarissa, her hands still covering her face and her eyes peering out between the gaps in her fingers. "What's wrong?"
Shaking her head stubbornly, Sarissa removed her hands and Evan thought she looked even more attractive than before, her face full of passion and emotion. "As if you didn't know. Of all people, you had to bring up her—Vivien. But then, I suppose you can't keep her out of your thoughts, since you're in love with her and all."
Evan nearly choked at this remark, and stared at Sarissa, his eyes wide and incredulous. "Let me guess, she told you that… the little idiot." He took a deep breath and examined his fingers rather than looking into that accusing, defiant face that made his blood run red hot. "Look, Sarissa—whatever she's said to you, it isn't true. In fact…" Evan looked up at her again, and saw that she was weakening, paling and calming herself down. "The only girl I've never been able to keep out of my thoughts is you."
Everything blurred as Sarissa leant towards him Evan kissed her softly, then a little more brutally, unable to keep himself from running his fingers through her soft hair roughly, trying to separate the perfect strands so that they were more like his own, coarse and dry. When they pulled apart she looked away at the quilt-cover, and as the traced the checked pattern murmured, "you'd better go now."
"Yeah," he drawled as he rose and walked to the door, closing it behind him, knees shaking as if he was still writhing in the power of her dreamlike gaze. Evan leant up against the wall as he struggled to remember every moment of their hasty embrace, and heard the guests counting down to midnight loudly in the ballroom below. A loud cheer reverberated through the house as Lucius' birthday arrived, and Evan grinned at the thought of his best friend. If he finds out about this… he's gonna kill me. His thoughts were interrupted as he heard voices at the bottom of the stairs, and he hid quickly behind a large suit of armour, frightened by the thought of Lucius'—or rather, Cassius'—wrath.
Alexander, Cassius and Lucius emerged at the top of the staircase, and Evan watched as Lucius was led into the closest room—Alexander Malfoy's study. Interest piqued, Evan crept over once the door closed behind them, leaving a small gap that let a trickle of light into the dark hall and allowed Evan to hear snippets of the conversation inside.
"Lucius… you must be prepared—" Alexander was speaking, and Evan wished that the guests downstairs might quiet themselves so that he could hear exactly what was being said to Lucius. Raucous screams travelled up as the orchestra began playing a vicious Charleston. "The young… needed for our task."
"Yes, Father." Lucius seemed to have agreed to whatever proposal Alexander had made, although Evan's creeping curiousity was not yet satisfied.
Cassius cleared his throat. "So, you will join us… him… a good man, very good… believes in the old ways, importance of magical… exclusively. Very good man."
Evan heard more voices downstairs, and decided to depart before he was discovered, eavesdropping on a private, and what appeared to be a very serious, conversation. I'll find out anyway, he thought reassuringly, his mind still full to the brim with Sarissa, Lucius tells me everything.
And the last thing he heard, as he silently skulked down the stairs, was Lucius' assurances to his Father, Brother… and possibly even someone else. "Yes, Father. I promise you that much."
***
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