Chapter 4
This is how I lived during my waking hours. With night came a feeling
of dread. Ever since I had entered the castle my dreams had ceased to
exist, yet in the hours before dawn broke I would awaken, suddenly,
drenched in sweat, taking deep breaths, and glancing around wildly.
Someone's watching me. I can feel its eyes. But where is it? I can
sense something... I know it's here. It was an insane feeling of being
watched. In my year with the Immortals I had been trained to observe.
And I knew something was there in the room. Although no matter how
many times I got up I found the dormitory deserted except for the
girls themselves.
About two weeks into my stay at Hogwarts I was introduced to a new
malice; only this one was easily identified and it had a name... Draco
Malfoy. Our encounter happened when dinner ended in the Great Hall and
most of the students had filtered out into to head up to their common
rooms. I scooted from my normal exclusive position at the end of the
table down towards Hermione who was furiously scratching out a mistake
she had just made on an essay she was writing for transfiguration.
"Having trouble?" I asked while taking out my own set of calligraphy
pens and parchment.
"It's just I can't remember whether it was Camiel of Aristed or
Gramsby of Netherhorn that invented the spell which accidentally
turned him into a rosebush," she said exasperatedly.
"I'd go with Gramsby. The spell had already been created by the time
Camiel was born."
"You really have a photographic memory! I can't remember half the
stuff in the chapters without studying."
"Well if it isn't the little mudblood with her pet muggle," came a
drawling voice from behind us. My head snapped around at the sound of
the insult. My eyes narrowed in contempt as I laid eyes on a sneering
boy with slicked-back blond hair. Along side of him were two hulking
masses of male testosterone; both of which looked too dull to tie
their own shoes.
"Leave us alone Malfoy," Hermione maliciously hissed as she continued
to work on her assignment.
"Your really scaring me now!" he mocked, "Where's your little
boyfriends Potter and Weasley to come to your rescue?" (Alright this
twit is starting to really bug me!)
"Shut up Malfoy!!" Hermione continued and had now turned to face her
tormenter. Malfoy averted his eyes from Hermione and turned his gaze
on me.
"It seems your companion doesn't like to talk... or is she just scared?"
That's it you bastard! I vaulted from the bench an elbowed Malfoy's
henchman on the left in the stomach. I then pushed past Malfoy,
practically knocking him over, and used the heel of my hand to slam
the second tub of lard square in the jaw. The larger ones are out of
the way now to have some fun! But before I could begin to pummel the
crap out of that snob he yelled:
"Expelliarmus!"
A silver jet of light shot out of the tip of Malfoy's wand that he had
retrieved from his robes; it propelled me off the ground and sent me
twenty feet backwards before skidding harshly across the marble floor
before colliding with a wooden bench. A thin stream of blood flowed
from my lip. I wiped it on my sleeve and got up to show I wasn't
deterred by the blast. Then I started to walk back toward Malfoy. He
stared amazed as he expected me to have run away in fear or something.
That was a dirty trick, but I have a few of my own. Let's see what you
make of them. My walk had now turned faster and faster. Now I was
running at full throttle. Right before I reached him I dropped and
slid across the slick finish. The momentum I had built up sent me
hurtling into his shins and he went flying over the top of my head.
Then I pounced on him and threw a flurry of swift punches at his head
which he had poorly protected.
"Stop Raven! Stop! Quick let's get out of here before a teacher sees
us! Come on!" She had grabbed both of our book bags and was now
attempting to pull me off of the curled up ball of bruises. With one
swift tug she tore me away from him. She kept a tight hold on my robes
until we were safely in the common room.
"What were you thinking?!" she screamed.
"Didn't you hear him? He was mocking us! I don't care what you do but
I won't allow some pissant walk all over me!" I yelled back.
"But you could have gotten seriously hurt! Why didn't you use your
wand?
"What? I don't need any magic tricks to save me! I was trained to
fight! I live by the laws of life. I would prefer to be the one who
survives, and you can only depend on what you do yourself... not some
silly enchantment!"
Then she looked me straight in the eyes. She wasn't telling me how I
should do something. She was pleading with me... so I wouldn't get
injured. She actually cared what happened to me.
"Why should you care about me? I have done nothing for you. You owe me
no debt."
"Do you think that the only reason to care for someone... is as a... a
reward?" I watched her silently. She was looking toward me with
sympathy. She was showing me pity. How do I react to this emotion? No
rule I was ever taught falls within these standards. What do you want
me to do? I don't understand. Now I could see tears in her eyes. They
tumbled down her cheeks until they were caught in the web of her
frizzy hair. The light from the fire threw shadows upon her face;
extenuating her features and making her look like a sad clown with
make-up on.
"Why are you so callous Raven? Haven't you ever cared for someone?"
she choked her voice still filled with tears.
I sat on a foot stool and gazed into the fire. I felt despair. I
didn't feel as though I could interact with anyone now. Had I not been
taught everything there was to know about being human? Had I not
learned simply emotions? I knew hate. I knew fear. I knew distrust,
but was I aware of what any positive emotions felt like. My hand
tightened in anger. That's when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. At
first I flinched. Hermione came to sit in front of me.
"I'm sorry. I don't know about your past and you don't even have to
tell me, but... we can still be friends... regardless of the past. Can't
you see that? So, if you're willing I can be your friend." She put out
a hand to me.
If I'm willing? I stared at her oddly. I didn't really want to
respond. Either because I was too stubborn to admit I wanted a friend
or I was afraid if I answered I would frighten away my companion.
This is how I lived during my waking hours. With night came a feeling
of dread. Ever since I had entered the castle my dreams had ceased to
exist, yet in the hours before dawn broke I would awaken, suddenly,
drenched in sweat, taking deep breaths, and glancing around wildly.
Someone's watching me. I can feel its eyes. But where is it? I can
sense something... I know it's here. It was an insane feeling of being
watched. In my year with the Immortals I had been trained to observe.
And I knew something was there in the room. Although no matter how
many times I got up I found the dormitory deserted except for the
girls themselves.
About two weeks into my stay at Hogwarts I was introduced to a new
malice; only this one was easily identified and it had a name... Draco
Malfoy. Our encounter happened when dinner ended in the Great Hall and
most of the students had filtered out into to head up to their common
rooms. I scooted from my normal exclusive position at the end of the
table down towards Hermione who was furiously scratching out a mistake
she had just made on an essay she was writing for transfiguration.
"Having trouble?" I asked while taking out my own set of calligraphy
pens and parchment.
"It's just I can't remember whether it was Camiel of Aristed or
Gramsby of Netherhorn that invented the spell which accidentally
turned him into a rosebush," she said exasperatedly.
"I'd go with Gramsby. The spell had already been created by the time
Camiel was born."
"You really have a photographic memory! I can't remember half the
stuff in the chapters without studying."
"Well if it isn't the little mudblood with her pet muggle," came a
drawling voice from behind us. My head snapped around at the sound of
the insult. My eyes narrowed in contempt as I laid eyes on a sneering
boy with slicked-back blond hair. Along side of him were two hulking
masses of male testosterone; both of which looked too dull to tie
their own shoes.
"Leave us alone Malfoy," Hermione maliciously hissed as she continued
to work on her assignment.
"Your really scaring me now!" he mocked, "Where's your little
boyfriends Potter and Weasley to come to your rescue?" (Alright this
twit is starting to really bug me!)
"Shut up Malfoy!!" Hermione continued and had now turned to face her
tormenter. Malfoy averted his eyes from Hermione and turned his gaze
on me.
"It seems your companion doesn't like to talk... or is she just scared?"
That's it you bastard! I vaulted from the bench an elbowed Malfoy's
henchman on the left in the stomach. I then pushed past Malfoy,
practically knocking him over, and used the heel of my hand to slam
the second tub of lard square in the jaw. The larger ones are out of
the way now to have some fun! But before I could begin to pummel the
crap out of that snob he yelled:
"Expelliarmus!"
A silver jet of light shot out of the tip of Malfoy's wand that he had
retrieved from his robes; it propelled me off the ground and sent me
twenty feet backwards before skidding harshly across the marble floor
before colliding with a wooden bench. A thin stream of blood flowed
from my lip. I wiped it on my sleeve and got up to show I wasn't
deterred by the blast. Then I started to walk back toward Malfoy. He
stared amazed as he expected me to have run away in fear or something.
That was a dirty trick, but I have a few of my own. Let's see what you
make of them. My walk had now turned faster and faster. Now I was
running at full throttle. Right before I reached him I dropped and
slid across the slick finish. The momentum I had built up sent me
hurtling into his shins and he went flying over the top of my head.
Then I pounced on him and threw a flurry of swift punches at his head
which he had poorly protected.
"Stop Raven! Stop! Quick let's get out of here before a teacher sees
us! Come on!" She had grabbed both of our book bags and was now
attempting to pull me off of the curled up ball of bruises. With one
swift tug she tore me away from him. She kept a tight hold on my robes
until we were safely in the common room.
"What were you thinking?!" she screamed.
"Didn't you hear him? He was mocking us! I don't care what you do but
I won't allow some pissant walk all over me!" I yelled back.
"But you could have gotten seriously hurt! Why didn't you use your
wand?
"What? I don't need any magic tricks to save me! I was trained to
fight! I live by the laws of life. I would prefer to be the one who
survives, and you can only depend on what you do yourself... not some
silly enchantment!"
Then she looked me straight in the eyes. She wasn't telling me how I
should do something. She was pleading with me... so I wouldn't get
injured. She actually cared what happened to me.
"Why should you care about me? I have done nothing for you. You owe me
no debt."
"Do you think that the only reason to care for someone... is as a... a
reward?" I watched her silently. She was looking toward me with
sympathy. She was showing me pity. How do I react to this emotion? No
rule I was ever taught falls within these standards. What do you want
me to do? I don't understand. Now I could see tears in her eyes. They
tumbled down her cheeks until they were caught in the web of her
frizzy hair. The light from the fire threw shadows upon her face;
extenuating her features and making her look like a sad clown with
make-up on.
"Why are you so callous Raven? Haven't you ever cared for someone?"
she choked her voice still filled with tears.
I sat on a foot stool and gazed into the fire. I felt despair. I
didn't feel as though I could interact with anyone now. Had I not been
taught everything there was to know about being human? Had I not
learned simply emotions? I knew hate. I knew fear. I knew distrust,
but was I aware of what any positive emotions felt like. My hand
tightened in anger. That's when I felt a soft hand on my shoulder. At
first I flinched. Hermione came to sit in front of me.
"I'm sorry. I don't know about your past and you don't even have to
tell me, but... we can still be friends... regardless of the past. Can't
you see that? So, if you're willing I can be your friend." She put out
a hand to me.
If I'm willing? I stared at her oddly. I didn't really want to
respond. Either because I was too stubborn to admit I wanted a friend
or I was afraid if I answered I would frighten away my companion.