Chapter 6: Sense and Sensibility.
"Never made it as a wise man
I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'
Tired of livin' like a blind man
I'm sick inside without a sense of feelin'
And this is how you remind me
This is how you remind me
Of what I really am" How you remind me, Nickelback.
April of 1997.
One good thing about the Christmas Eve attack was that some of the most restrained members of staff were now a bit more open on showing their emotions. Not that Minerva McGonagall was hugging students in the halls, but they didn't keep such a sterile distance anymore.
And Hagrid showed his affection so openly some of his protégés had their backs sore from his famous bear hugs. Harry showed at the dojo so hurt in January Arien had dismissed him for a week. He helped with the first belt students, though.
'there's not much else I could teach them.'
But for the moment Arien was much more concerned about herself. More specifically, some rumours about her that were running through the students of Hogwarts. With that in mind she came to speak with Dumbledore, hoping he could find a way to help her. The rumours were too close to the truth for her comfort. She was pretty much the same as when she entered the school- except she was less skinny, due to the efforts of the house elves on feeding her and to her daily fighting practice; and now had her haircut chin-level. The auburn mass was curled and wild, kept off her face with the help of tiaras and hair clasps. She was pretty much the same height – an impressive height, five feet and something, as tall as most of the fifth and sixth years. She'd always been the tallest of her class.
She had to wait for a professor who knew the password to take her in. When she finally was led up the gargoyle stairway, the headmaster's office was so loud with conversation she felt her ears buzzing.
"Professor Dumbledore?"
The noise faded. "Oh, hello, Arien. Please come in."
While Arien hasn't changed at all, Dumbledore had aged plenty in the last two years. He still had a twinkle in his eyes, but it seemed clouded most the times. Every now and then, his old usual self would emerge, but when he was at his office the merry eccentric old wizard was replaced by the cunning, analytical wizard, the one who defeated Grindewald and whom Voldemort was afraid of.
She did enter, shyly, dropping her heavy backpack on the ground and taking a seat as he offered.
"What's the matter, Arien?" he asked, joyfully. He always believed in letting the children going on their own, and leading them through their mistakes. As Harry once said, Dumbledore knew what children were up to, and made sure to give them rope enough.
"You know..." the student turned bright crimson, even when it was not a common thing on her. She had far more control over herself than the humans, but no illusion as her level of restraint compared to the elves she would face back home. "People are.. they are getting...suspicious. You know, of me. Dumbledore... you know what people are talking about me?"
"No, dear, my mind had been kept elsewhere." He replied, and she sank even deeper into the armchair. A war going on. And she was scared for her integrity 'but hey, I've got to survive this, right?' she took a deep breath, and prepared herself to defend her plea. It was no use to wear the elven mask of calm and cool serenity, as the man in question was Dumbledore, and he was very, very wise. Her best option was to be totally frank with him.
"For all this years "she began, her voice still smooth ,"I have managed to fit in. I studied the other students, I studied every book about local history, talked to the teachers. I was one of them."
She paused and looked into his eyes, finding them warm and supportive. The same eyes that looked at her in a morning of august, two years ago. Eyes that didn't judge her, but offered her guidance.
"You know how the situation is... tense... all this teenagers locked in. They are afraid, Dumbledore. They startle at everything and at nothing. And now... we know that there had been... previous episodes... of Death Eaters inside the castle. "She eyed him carefully. His eyes were still twinkling, but no longer merrily. It was a calculate twinkle, and it sent shivers down her stomach. "The thing is, Dumbledore, the students may start getting ideas. About me. About me being a Death Eater or something."
"And you think drinking an Ageing Potion will stop them from thinking so, my dear?"
She blinked furiously. Had she been that opbvious? "No, but it would be a start. My behaviour gives no reason to such a belief, however..."
"However?"
"Oh, don't look at me like that! I've never left school, I've never had contact with any Death Eater, except from that morning at the Forbidden Forest, so you don't have to look at me this way." She exploded. Dumbledore chuckled quietly behind his desk.
"I do apologise if I sounded in any way accusing, miss Arien. Do continue."
"It's my... my ears. They're such a damned give-away" she looked at him and felt overwhelmed with dread." I shouldn't have said that, I'm so sorry..."
The paintings on the wall had several different reactions. His own pictures were trying to muffle a laugh, while the previous headmasters and headmistress were looking disapprovingly at her.
"Oh, I haven't heard a thing, what was it that you said, anyway?"
"I've managed to keep them not overly noticed. The da-- ... the hat helps a lot. And they think it's a birth deformity, anyway. But look, it's starting to show off: a girl that doesn't age, who has pointy ears... I'm extremely surprised they haven't chased me in screams of 'kill the freak' yet."
"Aren't you judging us over old prejudice?"
"Is it really old? I feel the dread, Dumbledore. It's been growing in my mind everyday. They are taking second glances over me already. The suspicion in their eyes is growing. They are trapped, they are scared, and they'll hit the first thing they can. That's the way it is"
"So, you'd like to take the potion."
"Don't you think it prudent?" she didn't like the word wise, not referring to herself. It reminded her too much of the wise Lady of the Woods.
"That's not about what I think, Arien. This is your life, and you're the one who'll deal with the consequences of it. If you think it necessary, I'll give you leave to do it. But I must ask you to start slowly- people would be even more suspicious if you changed from a child to a woman overnight. Take a drop or two every three days, and see me at the end of the week, so we can judge the results."
She knew she was being dismissed. As she reached the door, she turned back with a twinkle of her own:
"Mr. Leal is a most agreeable person, is he not? He's one of my favourite teachers."
"Is he?" the headmaster replied with a twinkle of his own, his eyes nearly disappearing with his broad grin. They both knew she knew about Snape – she was a Ravenclaw, and she had been there– and it was a common source of secret delight to both how Snape was forced to play the role of the nice, caring professor. Most un-Snape-like.
"Yes." A dramatical sigh. "Too bad he doesn't find my company as fascinating as I find his."
"I have to go, Hermione."
"No bloody way! What is the problem with you guys?"
It was Friday night, and the Tenacious Trio had the Common room all to themselves. Ginny excused herself to study, and Arien would not have her wizarding training because she was at the hospital wing. Again. Some student must have knocked her out pretty bad.
"Hermione, we both know that as soon as I get out of Hogwarts, there'll be nothing between me and Voldemort. I'd rather be prepared."
"Too right, Harry." Sighed Ron.
"Don't give him ideas, Ron." Hermione spat. "Okay, I do agree with the whole 'I-gotta-be-ready part. Wholeheartedly. But from there to go to the first line of fire, practically begging to be hit..."
"Hermione!" Ron yelled. She didn't give him the slightest attention.
"...that's a bit too much, Harry."
"I'd prefer to be on my feet, Hermione. Look, it's going to happen anyway, so my chances are bigger if I have more people around. Besides, what'd be the effect on people if the -"and he blushed furiously "if I decided to run and hide. I mean, I'm the only one who ever survived. Snuffles is on the run, Snape's dead – and he was a damn powerful wizard, Dumbledore told us several times- what if I disappear? What will people think?"
"I tell you what people---"
"Hermione!" Ron was aghast. Hermione was usually a very well tempered person. Even when she was in an ill temper, she would use wit, not dirty words- but then now she was using every dirty word he ever said. He definitely had a bad influence over her.
"it would not do the Resistance good. Several good people would flee, and we would get weaker. I have to, Hermione. I do."
She was barely controlling herself. Her chin was trembling and her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"He is right, Hermione." Ron pushed his luck.
"And I want it to be over. As soon as possible."
"Ron?"
"And I'm going too, 'Mione."
"That's settled then. We go together." Her voice shaky.
"Hermione..."
"No, Harry. I'll hear nothing of it."
"You absolutely can't be serious!" Ginny cried.
"I can and I am." He replied, no trace of smug in his face.
"You'll be killed!"
"I confess the idea crossed my mind, but I'll have to take a position, won't I?"
she was pacing in the room like a furious wild tigress recently locked in a zoo jail – and the tigress didn't like the cell one bit.
"Gin, dear, are you all right?"
"All right? ALL RIGHT? I'M NO BLOODY RIGHT! I'M FURIOUS!" I'M---"
"Maybe I should strengthen the silencing spells before we move on? He asked sheepishly. She looked positively fuming. And nodded.
"Now, you may speak. But I'd appreciate if you didn't scream. My ears hurt."
"if you go on with this stupid idea of yours it'll not only be you ears hurting."
"I know." He said quietly.
"why?" she asked even quieter, which startled him somehow.
"Like I said, Ginny, I'll have to pick a side. I'm not a Gryffindor, courage is not my best trait, and I most definitely would like to be chased by only one side of the war, if possible."
"You could hide..." she tried. He chuckled, without any real joy.
"Aye, I could. But when the war is over, the winner side will hunt me down, Ginny, no mistake here. The Light Side will kill me for being a Death Eater-, which I'm not. And the Dark Side will kill me for being a traitor. Voldemort is not a nice fellow with the traitors, Ginny."
She stared at the wall, trying to control her tears.
"Bloody hell!"
"Too right."
"Oh, Draco, what will be of us?"
June of 1997"Enough!" she almost screamed. "Get the hell out of my sight!"
The students gathered around her were fifth years and up, her last class of the night. Some of them had reached the third belt, and her very first students – Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were already on the fourth. Two months of Ageing Potions had assured her some – slight- maturing, and the rumours had stopped for the time being. Although she knew it wouldn't last long. Not with her luck.
Her apprentices were most surprised by her tone. The joyful, mischievous, smart little (little? She's taller than I am!) girl was noticeable uncomfortable when it came to order people around. She always had a command with a tone that was kind and pleading, almost begging for people to do as she says- do you not agree? Would you like to?... - She only managed to keep the class on control basically because they were hell bent on learning whatever she may have to teach – she was a tough fight. Slytherins paid attention, and that was something.
But she'd been different in the last months... well, everybody was almost at nervous breakdown, but she seemed to be losing a battle with her own nerves. She was screaming! And cursing! The classes seemed to be getting tense, instead of the previous stress-relieving state. So, with so much as a final look, the older students got their bags and left the room for the bathrooms. Some went to the infirmary to heal some light cuts- they'd been training fighting with daggers.
Arien left a huge sigh escape her lungs as the last student left, closing the door behind him. she felt sick with the feeling that the huge stonewalls of the castle were closing in around her. And Dumbledore forbade her of going outside by any means- by all that's sacred, how was she supposed to live? The stress of the teenagers was driving her nearly insane. The fear was so thick she could taste it, sharp and metallic against her tongue, smelling acrid and foul. The worry for their loved ones – nearly half the students must be orphan by now.
And the walls. Huge, ancient, oppressive.
Overwhelming. Threatening. Maddening.
'So close ...so close ...twenty minutes of walk, not even five minutes if I run ... the forest ... the trees, the animals, the wet soil under my bare feet ... the breeze over my face ...'
Open. Enthralling. Bewitching.
Five minutes.
Freedom.
'Damn the castle.'
Gathering her wand and keeping it reassuringly on her right hand, a couple of twin daggers on her back, she fled to the only place she could think of being at the moment. a blur of grey and red, she crossed the stairs so fast the paintings didn't even had time to wonder what that had been.
Probably just a breeze.
Actually leaving the castle was absurdly easy. 'Maybe the problem is to get in, not out.' The night was blessedly cool, a soft breeze caressing the trees and creating little waves on the lake.
The grass has obviously been neglected, it was too high. But she kept on running to the forest, only stopping when she was deep into its core.
Arien raised her hand to caress the trees around her, recalling their names with teary eyes. Here was the first sycamore she talked to ... and there the oak who sheltered her during the death eater's attack two years ago ... some distance ahead, a group of willows.
She let the tears fall freely- it was not as if there was a crowd around her anyway.
She could finally breath.
She reacquainted with the trees, listened to them and went deeper in to see the most exotic animals ever. For obvious reasons, they'd been having only theoretical Care of the Magical Creatures lessons. The forest was very alive, with a pulsing heart of its own, and the little half-elven drank it all into her soul, savouring the feelings around her, the quietness and peace she so sorely missed.
It had been so long.
Far too long.
A couple of hours later, her senses jumped alert again, as there was something foul drawing near. 'Not all things in the forest are good, Arien' Dumbledore had said. 'it's forbidden for a reason.' And now whatever the reason was, it was coming towards her, quite fast. The almost non-existent noise of leaves being crushed. Too much noise.
One whole year locked in those damned stonewalls. One whole year without feeling the breeze but through the windows. One whole year suffering all the violent emotions of stressed teenagers, fearful, passionate; one whole year dreading their suspicions, hiding her past and her story, plus her future being as dark as her robes, one whole year praying to any god willing to listen to make a miracle and get her out of the hook.
One whole year of swallowing her emotions and being the perfect little Ravenclaw – smart, reasonable, witty. One whole year holding her guts and standing her ground.
One whole year of being damned stressed. But more than just one year of running and hiding.
Almost giggling on her decision, Arien pulled her daggers and got ready for some real action (training was kind of relieving, but it no longer demanded real effort from her).
And then ...
'How, on the name of all Valar, did this thing get on earth?'
Acromantula. Giant Spiders.
She'd been so, so stupid. They could have come to this world just through the very same path she had used. A portal. But how long ago did they come? They were certainly here for quite some time. Maybe the gate opens more frequently than the headmaster might think. But there was no time for such deliberations, as a couple of spiders were already running towards her.
And she'd let her bow and arrows up in her tower room. Bloody brilliant. Again. One year before, she'd forgotten the wand, and encountered a group of evil wizards. This year, she'd forgotten her bow, and encountered one of the very few magical creatures that were highly resilient to the use of magic.
Even though she had been craving for some action, something new, anything at all to save her from the emotional stress of the castle, that was a little bit too much. So she went back to the reasonable mode.
She ran.
"Need help?" said a deep rich voice behind her, and she had trouble to stop at her present speed. When she turned back, there was a worried-looking centaur approaching.
"Yes." She replied, letting out her breath. "The fastest way out of here. Where?"
"Obviously you can run. This way." He turned left, and started a gallop. She followed, not without effort, till they reached the borders of the forest. She stood there longingly.
"Ai! Why is it that I have to leave before I could even savour the forest?"
He chuckled." Savour the forest? Where are you from? This is a dark forest, child. It's dangerous here. You could have gotten bitten by a vampire, or a werewolf, or thousands of other things."
"But there's beauty within the danger, isn't it? For there are centaurs, and unicorns, and hippogriffs, and the trees are absolutely fascinating..."
"Trees? Fascinating?"
Damn. So much for subtlety.
"Time is growing late. The headmaster's going to have my head, I'm afraid. Who should I thank?"
"My name is Firenze. Have a good rest, good luck, and a good day. And if you meet the headmaster, tell him this before he has your head: Mars has reached the peak of its glory."
"I will give him your message, thought it sounds strange. Good night, my friend!" she said starting her run to the main entrance of the castle. She didn't have to open it.
"Miss Arien. Haven't I told you to remain inside?"
'Oh, shit. My lucky star...'