Today I have my last two finals for the year! Yay! Which means I will have more time to write (Yay!) so I can finish chapter 13, which I am about half way done with (Yay!) and I can do some more work on my other fanfictions (Yay! Lol Sorry). Act II scene 1! Aaaaaaaaaand – Lights! -lights dim-
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The next morning Niger was hardly able to get himself out of bed. He had slept very poorly indeed. After his scar had begun to burn, his cry of pain had awoken the rest of the Slytherin First Year boys, so that he was yelled at for at least ten minutes before they all fell back to sleep. But Niger couldn't sleep. Even if his scar hadn't continued to burn throughout the night he would not have slept well. He still couldn't understand the way his father had been acting.
Besides that, he couldn't figure out why his scar was hurting. It had never happened before. What did it mean?
This question kept coming to mind as he went through the motions of that first day of school. At breakfast that morning, schedules of classes were handed out. Niger hardly looked at his. He had too much on his mind. He did have enough mind, however, to see what class he had right after breakfast. Potions. With the Gryffindors. That shouldn't be too bad, Niger thought to himself as he finished his breakfast without tasting it and stood to leave.
"Are you done already?" drawled a voice at his elbow. Niger had to suppress a scowl as he looked down at Malfoy.
"It appears that way, doesn't it?" Niger replied with a rolling of his eyes.
Without waiting for any kind of reply, Niger strode from the Great Hall and headed toward the dungeons to first grab his things and then find the Potions classroom.
Five minutes later he walked into the dimly lit room scattered with tables and found that he was the first to arrive. Well, don't I look eager? he thought sarcastically.
It wasn't long before he was joined by other first years, both those from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Niger had chosen a seat near the front on the right side making sure there was only one chair next to his own, so that if he had to sit by Draco and his cronies, at least he wouldn't have to sit between them. He was surprised, however, when the seat next to him was taken by someone else.
"Hello there," piped the boy as he sat down next to Niger. He remembered seeing the boy sorted the night before but couldn't quite think of his name.
"Hello," replied Niger shortly, still trying to remember his name.
"I'm Neville Longbottom. What's your name?"
"Niger. Niger Noctum. You're in Gryffindor, right?"
"Yeah. And you're in Slytherin." It wasn't a question.
Niger searched for the right words before speaking. "If you know I'm in Slytherin, why are you talking to me?"
Neville looked a bit put out by this, but he also looked as though he was trying to be optimistic about what Niger might mean by that. "If you don't want me to sit by you, I understand, but I really haven't got anything against Slytherins."
Niger laughed quietly. "No, no, it's not that. It's just that the last Gryffindor I spoke to didn't seem too keen with the idea of talking to a Slytherin. I just figured it was going to continue to be that way."
Neville smiled suddenly. "Well, then, if you don't object..." Neville proceeded to stack his things on the table in front of them, and Niger decided to do the same.
Not long after, Draco walked in. Niger could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head before he even realized Draco was there. He walked up the front table and turned to Neville.
"Get out of my seat," he growled.
"You're seat? But I was here before you." Neville seemed a bit confused by the sudden outburst.
"That's right, Malfoy, this is Neville's seat. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you sat on the other side of him." Draco's face fell in a most satisfactory way before he muttered something and sat down at the table behind Niger and Neville, where Crabbe and Goyle had already taken root.
"I'm sorry," mumbled Neville. "I would have moved, you know."
Niger smiled at him. "Not at all necessary; I should be thanking you, actually. He hasn't left me alone since we got here."
Neville seemed about to respond when they heard heavy footsteps followed by a deafening BANG as the dungeon door was closed.
Their professor walked to the front of the class and surveyed them before speaking. "My name is Professor Quentin." His voice was low and very articulate, as though he wanted to make sure that not a single word was misunderstood. "I'll give no silly speeches or warnings beforehand, because if you don't already know how dangerous potions making can be, a warning from me will do no good, will it?" He looked at the class again before calling role.
When he got to Niger, he paused a second, and looked sharply at him before smiling. He had very crooked teeth. Niger pulled his attention away from the horrible view in order to hear Professor Quentin as he spoke to him. "I know your father." After this pronouncement, he continued to look at Niger for a few more seconds before continuing on.
Fool, though Niger vehemently. Talking about his father in front of a bunch of people who have no idea what he's talking about! They were bound to ask questions after this. No doubt they were wondering, at this very moment, why Niger's father was so important to their potions master. Idiot!
After role, Prof. Quentin put simple potion instructions on the board and told all of them to work with the people at their table. For Niger, that meant he was working with Neville.
As they added the potions ingredients – Niger let Neville do most of the work...he never had liked potions making that much – Neville started talking. And he was talking about the last thing Niger wanted to discuss at the moment.
"He knows your dad, huh? He must be quite a man for the professor to mention it in class." Or Quentin is just a great dolt, thought Niger savagely. "My dad's an Auror." Neville continued with a kind of humble pride – humility for himself, pride for his father. "He's a great Auror too. Everyone at the Ministry knows his name. What's your dad's name? Would I know him?"
"Well, actually, he's not as famous as all that," said Niger, thinking quickly. "He kind of keeps his deeds a secret." That sounded so dumb, Niger!
"Yeah, my dad's real modest too." And with that, Neville smiled at Niger and got back to work on the potion, leaving Niger to his thoughts.
At the end of the class, Niger and Neville had one of the few correctly made potions in the room. Niger heard Draco complaining for a while afterwards that the only reason his hadn't worked was because he had had to work with Crabbe and Goyle. The only other group to be successful was Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, who seemed very proud of herself, despite the fact that she must have been able to hear Draco talking about her bloodline in a fake whisper from across the room. Niger looked back at him, however, and silenced him decisively.
Niger was very grateful for the class to be over...he tired of Professor Quentin's constant stares and the way he hovered around their table, hoping to get a chance to help the son of his master. It was sickening.
Their next class, strangely, also with the Gryffindors, was flying lessons. This, Niger was looking forward to. He was a natural on a broom. It was too bad that first years never made it on the house teams. He'd always wanted to be a seeker.
"Good morning, First Years, and welcome to your first flying lesson." The Professor, who introduced herself as Madame Hooch smiled around at them all and bellowed out instructions.
When she told them to command their brooms with "Up!" Niger's was the first to obey. Across from him, Hermione Granger was having quite a bit of difficulty, and kept shooting jealous glances at Niger. No doubt she was used to being the top of every class.
After several minutes, Madame Hooch continued her commands. "Now that you all have your brooms, you may mount them." She waited a few seconds. "On my whistle I want you to kick off hard, hover for a moment, then lean forward and touch back down."
Niger stifled a yawn as they finished this exercise.
"Now, who here has been on a broom before and would like to volunteer to give everyone a view of how it's done?" Niger's hand shot straight into the air. Across from him, Hermione jumped and looked at him with slight shock. He had to keep himself from laughing, remembering her doing the same thing whenever Professor Quentin had asked a question.
"Niger, good. I'll be in the air with you, just in case. Let's go, then." And at her signal, he soared. Niger almost sighed. This was what he had been waiting for. For the first time all day he wasn't thinking about his father, or his scar, it was as though he'd left all worries on the ground. It saddened him that they were sure to return as soon as his feet touched down again.
Following closely behind him like some kind of peculiar mother hen, Madame Hooch seemed to have tangled the band her whistle was on, and was hurriedly trying to dislodge herself from it. Niger looked back just as the whistle slipped from her fingers and plummeted toward the ground.
"Oh dear." Madame Hooch was about to fly after it when Niger's eyes lit up.
"I'll get it!" he bellowed loud enough that she was sure to hear, and dived after the whistle. He heard several of the other students below suck in breaths, obviously thinking that he had lost control of his broom, until he snatched the whistle out of the air just five feet before it hit the ground. He pulled sharply out of his dive and flew back up to where Madame Hooch was hovering, her hand covering her mouth and her face white as a sheet.
"Here," he said tentatively, handing her the offending whistle. "Sorry," he added when she made no move to receive the whistle from him but just sat there looking at him.
"Um...I caught your whistle for you," he reminded her, still proffering it.
She nodded, her hand finally away from her mouth which was still hanging open slightly.
She still didn't seem like she was going to take the whistle. "Shall we head back down?" he asked, hoping to snap her out of her trance.
"Wha –? Oh! Yes!" It worked. Finally taking the whistle from Niger, and with just one last glance at him, she flew back down, seeming to forget Niger's presence, which amused him, considering her scrutiny seconds before. The amusement didn't last long. As soon as he landed, he realized his folly.
Niger wasn't at all surprised to see the whitened face of Hermione Granger, who's mouth was opened in a silent scream, nor the envious face of Draco Malfoy. Niger almost laughed outright thinking about what might be going through Draco's head at this moment. He couldn't very well be mad at Niger for showing off and want to impress him at the same time. What a paradox for poor Malfoy.
Madame Hooch was strangely subdued for the rest of the class, and she wasn't the only one shooting constant glances in his direction. After class was over, she called him over to her before he could leave.
"What class do you have now?" He told her. "I don't think your professor would mind if you were a bit late. I'll explain afterwards..." she had begun talking quietly to herself and was now striding quickly away, looking over her shoulder occasionally to make sure Niger was still following.
He followed her into Hogwarts and up a couple flights of stairs until she stood outside an unmarked room. She rapped on the door, and waiting, smiling awkwardly back at him. Was Niger in trouble? He supposed he shouldn't have shown off, but he hadn't been able to resist the opportunity...
The door opened and out stepped Professor Snape. Oh no! I am getting in trouble!
"Severus, this is Niger Noctum, one of your new Slytherins."
Professor Snape glanced down at Niger, who tried to smile, then back at Madame Hooch. Niger could have kicked himself for the emotions he knew were playing on his face.
"I know I'm not supposed to be involved in these sorts of things, but I remembered that you lost several players last year but I have found you a new Seeker."
Niger no longer cared. He allowed his mouth to hang open. He didn't think he could have closed it had he tried to.
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The next several weeks passed by in the blur of classes, homework and Quidditch practice. Niger took great pleasure in seeing Draco after his own appointment as the new Slytherin Seeker, because he got to see the sickly green color that Malfoy adopted every time they came face to face. This, thankfully, kept Draco away from him most of the time. Good riddance.
Without Draco's company, Niger found himself making all sorts of new "friends." They weren't really friends, he would remind himself, just connections that may prove useful. Strangely, he found himself making friends with mostly Gryffindors. Though this troubled him, he did not allow himself to dwell on it. Classes were going fine. In fact, they were better than they should have been because, after his ordeal during flying lessons, Hermione Granger decided to befriend Niger. Though, her idea of being friends was quite a bit different than his. Still, her forcing study time on him was helping him get through his classes. It was true that Hermione was irritating, but she really wasn't all bad.
Quidditch practice became more intense as the first game approached. Slytherin verses Gryffindor. Of course. Why would it be any other? The morning of their first match, Niger couldn't eat.
I thought I could control such emotions, he thought savagely as his nervousness threatened to introduce his last several meals to him again. I won't throw up if I don't eat, he reasoned. He didn't think his body believed him.
As he sat pushing his untouched food around his plate, he sensed a presence next to him. It had better not be Malfoy. I can't handle his company right now. But instead of Malfoy, he turned to look at one of the Slytherin first years that he hadn't met yet. He had seen her hanging around Draco and that lot and had sincerely hoped she would never approach him. So much for hoping.
"Hello Niger," she cooed. He almost shivered. Hearing this girl coo was almost as bad as hearing Lord Voldemort chuckle.
He made a noncommittal noise in his throat and went back to picking at his food.
"I'm Pansy Parkinson." She waited, seeming to be hoping for some kind of reply. What did she want from him? She obviously already knew his name. Make her leave me alone, he pleaded, though who he expected to help him was unknown.
"I just wanted to tell you good luck. I know you'll do a great job today." She smiled at him, and he grimaced at her. She didn't get his meaning, however, and just accounted the look to nerves. When she walked away, Niger really did think he was going to throw up.
He saw Hermione across the room. She was sitting beside Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom. Those two had been pulled into Hermione's study groups as well, and had easily become part of Niger's group of...friends. He surprised himself by thinking that he wished one of them would come over and wish him luck, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. Most Gryffindors hated Slytherins, he was just an exception in some cases, which means that, despite their lack of animosity towards each other, they wanted Gryffindor to win just as much as Niger hoped to beat them.
Deciding that sitting there staring at his food wasn't going to do any good, Niger headed toward the Quidditch pitch. First years weren't allowed brooms, but since Niger had made the team, his father had sent him the new Nimbus 2000 which he carried over his shoulder as he walked. Another reason for Draco's jealousy. Niger was quite happy about that, both for the broom itself, and the result thereof.
He was the first player there and he had already changed into his green and silver robes and was stretching out a bit by the time the rest of the team showed up. A short pep-talk was given, which Niger happily ignored, and soon enough, it was time for the big match.
Niger followed his team out on the field and couldn't help but look up at the stands surrounding the pitch. I really am going to throw up.
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Alrighty then! Yay for Neville. I hope you liked this chapter (it's one of my favorites) and on Tuesday I'll post the Quidditch match. It's a fairly short chapter, so maybe reviews can convince me to post it sooner :)
Okay, I got 13 reviews (though one was sent directly to me by mail, which is okay -hint hint- lol) which means that I must keep my promise to have Draco be Niger's slave for the day. That little excerpt is after my thank yous! hehehe
Tarawen: Niger snogging a Gryffindor…erm…I just don't think so, I'm sorry. Can you imagine dear-old-dad finding out about that one? -shivers-
Zaxxon: Yeah, the whole idea of nature vs. nurture is one that I've started to play with in this story. I hope what I come up with is to your satisfaction.
Chips Challenge: Yeah, that contact in dreams was one of my better ideas :) Oh, and the whole thing with the scar…just think of what actually happens in the series, and then remember the "link" that Voldie accidentally gave him with the Crucio thing…-shrugs- Even though this story is set in an AU I try to stick to cannon when I can.
sami1010220: Ron begins playing a bigger role from this chapter on. And no, as I think was mentioned in an earlier chapter, Snape did not become a Death Eater. I have a reason for this bit of information that I may or may not be able to slip into the plot, but just know that there is a reason for it.
The Vampire Story Hunter: Yes well, even if he is Voldemort's son…does anyone have the will strong enough to lie to "the dark lord"? I mean really! Lol He's better at lying to other people, as you'll find out later. He just can't lie to "daddy." Lol
Peachybaby: If you I haven't said in the story how Niger knows that yet, then I will soon. See, I can't remember because I proof read my stories so often that I swear I have about three or four versions of all of them because I keep changing things every time I read through again. You will find out the answer to that question though. Don't worry.
Mark Evans: Thank you so much! I'm glad you think my story rocks :)
momma-dar: Thank you muchly! Brilliant writing, huh? -preens- I like that adjective! rotfl
Hermione HP: lol Well, if it makes any difference, I'm really glad you do review, and I'm even gladder (lol Yeah, I'm the daughter of an English teacher…) –ahem- more glad, that is, that you write longer reviews. More fun for me! hehehe
Adenara Yatman: Thank you!
Spaced Out Space Cadet: What can I say? I love torturing Draco in my stories. I mean, you have read Draco Duckling, right? I'm horrible to him in that one! It's great fun :) How many chapters of this have you read? I can't remember…
PippinsMyHobbit: Not feeling creative? Hehe I know that feeling! I just got out of one of the most intense finals I've ever had to take. Try taking a class from a feminist professor with a doctorate. Yikes! Lol Thanks for reviewing even if you weren't feeling creative ;)
Niger walks confidently into the room. After a slight pause, he sighs and signals behind him. Draco walks in wearing a black and white maid's dress. Niger tries to suppress a laugh but snorts loudly, causing Draco's face to darken. Niger points to a table in the middle of the room and Draco walks over to it. Instead of putting the small tray of coffee on the table, though, he sets it on the floor and stands on the table. He looks pleadingly back at Niger who just raises his eyebrows. Draco sighs. "I'm a little teapot short and stout. Here is my handle here is my spout. When I get all steamed up hear me shout. Tip me over and pour me out." Draco sings off-tune while doing all the hand and body motions required. Niger is doubled up with silent laughter and is just able to compose himself before Draco looks at him again. "Dance" Niger growls at him. Draco looks as if he may cry at this point. "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…"
rotfl! My, isn't Niger creative? -evil grins- I hope you all enjoyed that. I know I did! hehehehe Incentive: As soon as I get ten reviews (I got twelve this last time, so I know you can do it!) whether it be tomorrow or next Wednesday (normally I'd be posting one Tuesday) I'll post the chapter. It's up to you when I post! Ain't I evil?