Nimue let out a sigh as she plopped down in the chair beside the fire. Today had been long and tiring, as it had been for the past six years. She had nearly been late for the train, as usual, and had almost not been able to find a place for her trunk much less herself. Eventually she had ended up sitting next to some strange boy named Neville who had managed to lose his frog at least seven times in the entire time it took to get from King's Cross to Hogwarts. When they had finally gotten to Hogwarts, Nimue's trunk had gone missing and she had had to go into the school wearing her muggle clothes. She had decided at that point that she was too tired to sit through the choosing of the first years, and for some reason wasn't that hungry anyway. So instead she retreated to the Gryffindor common room where she found her trunk waiting for her. She growled under her breath, then began to drag the trunk up the stairs to the room she had completely to herself, thanks to Dumbledore. After unpacking she'd tried to go take a shower only to find it already in use. That's when she'd gone back to the common room and sat in the chair beside the fire. She'd been there for less than a minute when her silence was interrupted by a voice coming through the portal.
'And this, first years,' it said, 'is the Gryffindor common room. To get in you tell the Fat Lady the password, which is Cocoa Creampuffs.' With that a hole in the wall swung open and a frizzy-haired girl, wearing a badge that said Head girl, entered followed by a crowd of first years.
'Now you may go to your own rooms.' The Head girl said, releasing the children to roam about in awe of the room. The Head girl, who Nimue knew to be called Hermione, sat at another chair by the fire and looked as if she was about to say something when Nimue stood up, deciding to go see if the shower was still being used.
After her shower she withdrew to her room, and tried to fall asleep, but was subconsciously afraid of the memories she would find there. Eventually she slipped into a half-sleep, but that didn't chase away the images. They assaulted her in her head and without her realizing it tears began to roll down her face. One vision stayed with her longer than a moment and it stuck in her head. Two men were fighting. One wore gold plated armor that was covered in dents. On his head was a gold helmet that came down in a point to cover his nose. A graying-blond, shaggy beard grew on his chin and under his nose. Sweat was pouring off his face and collecting in his beard. Every part of him that was not covered by armor had cuts or bruises on it. The other man wore ordinary armor. It was in no way fitted to his form, for he filled it out to its utmost. He wore no helmet, and his dark hair hung loosely to his shoulders. It too was soaked with sweat, and every time he spun around it would stick to a part of his face. His face was horribly grim, and he showed little emotion as he fought. Both men showed signs of fatigue, but the man in gold more so. Every time their broadswords connected he grew slowly weaker, until he could hardly hold the sword up against his opponent. With one last strike the man in gold fell to his knees. He threw his sword to the ground and removed his helmet, to reveal shoulder-length gray hair. The dark-haired man dropped his sword, grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet. He removed a dagger from the belt at his side and slid it under the gold plates.
'All I ever wanted from you, father, was love." Then he shoved the dagger into the man's abdomen. Before the older man fell he grabbed his own dagger and shoved it into the dark haired man.
'You never deserved my love, son.' He whispered, falling to the ground. The dark haired man stared in shock as blood began to pour from his side. Then he too fell, toppling onto the body of his father.
Nimue woke up in shock. Sweat drenched her and the sheets on her bed. She sat in silence for a moment, then jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom before she threw-up. Afterwards she climbed into the shower still in her nightgown, and let the cool water wash over her. She stayed like that for several minutes before she got out. She stripped off the soaking nightgown and put on a bathrobe she found. She felt her way back to her room, grabbed her glasses then went back down to the commons to sit in front of the fire. Almost immediately she was lost in the flames. She watched as they danced around, licking the edges of the log, trying to climb up the brick walls that surrounded it. She had almost dozed off again when she heard a noise in the passageway. Two seventh years slipped through the portal and began to sneak across the room. They kept snickering to themselves then punching each other to shut up. After they left Nimue noticed one of their wands lying on the ground. She thought about picking it up and taking it to them, but then figured they probably wouldn't notice her anyway. She sighed and turned back to the fire. After a few minutes one of the two boys came back to get his wand. He noticed her sitting by the fire and stared at her for a moment before speaking.
'I'm sorry. I didn't see you there before.' He walked over to her and held out his hand, 'I'm Harry Potter.' Angry violet eyes, magnified by enormous glasses, met his blue-green stare.
'I know.' She answered coolly. Harry looked at her uncertainly.
'What's your name?' He continued. The violet eyes glared into blue-green, and for a moment Nimue began to give in to his gaze. Then she blinked and turned to look at the fire.
'This is the seventh year in a row that you've asked for my name, Harry Potter.' She said sadly. Harry frowned and crouched down to look into her face. She turned to look at him and he reached up and pulled off the enormous glasses that rested on her nose. He was surprised to find that behind the glasses she was actually quite pretty. Her violet eyes were actually a swirl of blue and purple. Long, dark lashes framed her eyes, and her eyebrows grew untamed on her brow. Harry's eyes roamed down passed her small nose and rested on her thin, red lips.
'Nimue,' She whispered, 'My name is Nimue.'
'Nimue,' Harry whispered. She waited a moment until realization filled his eyes. Except it never came. He still didn't remember her. Nimue let out a silent sigh. No one ever remembered her, why should she expect Harry Potter to be any different? She turned her eyes back to the fire.
'I-I should be getting to my room. Ron is waiting.' Harry said. Nimue nodded slightly but didn't take her eyes off the fire. Harry turned to go but at the door he stopped and turned around. Her back was to him now and he could study her without her noticing. After a moment she pulled the bathrobe closer around her neck and snuggled into the back of the chair. Normally she kept her hair up in a severe knot that sat at the base of her neck, but now it hung loosely in long, dark waves to her waist. She gathered it all together in her hands and pulled it around to her front, then started combing through it with her fingers. Harry turned and left the room, to return to his own where he found Ron already fast asleep.
Nimue slowly stroked her hair, the repetitive motion calming her. She had sensed Harry still watching her, and had waited until after she knew he was gone before letting out the breath of air she had been holding. With that release tears slowly began to form in her eyes until they streamed down her face. It had been hard living the way she did. The way she acted and dressed were not natural to her. She hated having to be antisocial, almost never speaking. She hated having to wear baggy clothes and thick glasses to make her unappealing. But all of it was necessary, for the protection of herself and the people around her. When the tears had stopped Nimue climbed up the stairs, threw off the bathrobe and slipped into bed.
The next morning Nimue awoke slowly, and when she finally got up she was still horribly groggy and terrified to find that she was completely naked. She grabbed the bathrobe she had discarded last night and pulled it quickly around her. From there she ran out into the commons to find no one there. She ran back up to her room, threw on some clothes then ran out to the main hall, to find no one there.
'Dammit,' she said to herself, 'I'm late for breakfast.' When she got to the breakfast hall she discovered that all the food had been cleared and there was no one there but the house elves.
'Shit, this is definitely not a good start.' She thought. She quickly made her way to the potions room, where she found a room full of students already mixing something in their cauldrons. Trying to slide into a seat before anyone noticed her, Nimue managed to knock Draco Malfoy's cauldron slightly. He glared down at her and was about to speak before a deep voice sounded from somewhere above and behind her. She spun around to see Professor Snape leering down at her.
'Twenty points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, Miss Avignon, and detention for a month. Twenty more for inappropriate dress, and ten for knocking Mr. Malfoy's cauldron. You're not starting this year off very well, Miss Avignon.' He said sneering. He spun around, his cloak billowing behind him, and returned to his desk.
'Mr. Potter please fill Miss Avignon in on what we're working on.' He demanded. From somewhere behind her, Nimue felt someone grab her wrist and pull her over to a table. Before she turned to see whom it was she looked down and discovered the robe she had put on was a deep violet, instead of the black, which was required by the school. She turned a deep shade of red and wished she could untie her hair from the knot so that it would fall over her face.
'Don't worry about it,' a voice beside her said, 'He's not a nice person in general. Don't take it personally. Besides purple's a good color on you.' Nimue looked over to find herself staring into the same blue-green eyes from the night before. She frowned at him slightly.
'Yes, Mr. Potter, I know. I've had him for as many years as you have.' She said coolly turning back to the empty cauldron in front of her.
'Now what are we supposed to be doing?' She asked softly.
'Making some sort of potion that turns frogs blue, I think.' He replied with little emotion. The rest of potions went slowly. Originally Nimue's frog turned pink, so to fix it she added Willow Bark. Eventually her frog ended up neon green with equally bright pink spots. She let out a sigh, and then fled from the room before Snape got the chance to lecture her on stirring clockwise as opposed to counterclockwise.
The rest of her classes went just as slow, and by the time they were over she was ready to eat something then to collapse on the floor somewhere and think of absolutely nothing. Instead she was forced to listen to McGonagall drone on about the importance of getting to class on time. Then she reported to Snape who told her to scrub out all the cauldrons, even though most of them had been thoroughly rinsed already. After that she retreated to her room and started on her homework but didn't get far before it was time for dinner. When dinner had finished she withdrew to her room again and collapsed on her bed. She didn't wake up until hours later when her dreams had returned. This time she had dreamed of a woman who was being forced by the witches and wizards who manipulated her destiny to have the son of a man who was not her husband. When she awoke tears were running down her face. She walked slowly to the shower, turned on the cold and stood there for a while. When she stepped out she grabbed another bathrobe then went into the common room, curled up on her chair and fell asleep.
The next morning she awoke before everyone else, and was very careful about choosing her robes. She made sure they were the regulation black, then tied her hair in the severe knot and put on her thick glasses. Looking at herself in the mirror she sighed at the person staring back. She was early to breakfast, and on time for her first class. The rest of the day continued the same. Nimue managed not to lose any more points for Gryffindor until after lunch when she accidentally turned a dead flower into a neon green frog with equally bright pink spots, instead of a goose feather. The frog jumped on McGonagall's desk and left little wet stains all over the fourth years' papers on Animagi. McGonagall sighed and deducted fifteen points from Gryffindor. The rest of the day went smoothly. For detention she washed more already clean cauldrons, then returned to her room to find her homework slowly piling up. She started on her work for transfiguration but didn't get very far before the dinner bell rang. She growled softly under her breath then deserted her work for food. When she got back to the room she was horribly tired but managed to finish her work for the next day before collapsing onto her bed. No dreams haunted her that night; for her mind was so overworked it could not conjure up the memories.
Life continued this way for nearly a month. Nimue did not often dream for she was so overworked her mind chose not to function at night. Throughout the month more people came to help her clean cauldrons that weren't dirty. By the end of the month she rarely had to clean more than one cauldron, so her detention was much shorter and she had more time to do her homework. At the very end of the month she was released completely from the extra duty. That evening, for the first time since school had started, she finished all her homework before dinner, and was free to eat without worry. She went back up to her room, after the mean, and instead of showering she passed-out on her bed and didn't reawaken until much later. After not dreaming for nearly a month she had forgotten to be afraid of what lurked in her subconscious so she slid easily into her dreams.
A man sat on a small wooden chair in the center of a dark stone room. From where she stood she could only see the back of his head. He wore a tattered old robe that looked as if it had once been very fine. His feet were bare and his legs so thin she could barely tell the difference between him and the chair legs. His hands were tied behind his back, the rope that held them was so thin it looked as if had he still the strength, he could have snapped it off. Red rings formed around his wrists from the chafing of the string. His arms were so thin it looked as if the skin was simply melting off the bone. Without seeming to move she found herself standing in front of him. His chin rested on his chest, and from that view she could see a very large bald spot on the top of his head. Where there was hair it was coarse and gray, and hung a little passed his shoulders. A dark gray beard clung to his chin, falling to the middle of his stomach. Slowly he looked up, but did not make eye contact. His face was haggard and hard. Wrinkles covered his face, dragging it down as if it were a wax statue melting in the sun. His lips were terrible light and chapped. It looked as if he had not had water in several days. His skin was nearly translucent. She started to turn away but was caught by the man's eyes. He was watching her. The pain in his eyes was unbearable but she could not look away. In them she saw the complete and utter essence of suffering. In his lifetime he had seen more pain, and more hurt than any mortal man can take. And somewhere inside her, she knew that she was the cause of it.
This revelation expelled her from her subconscious and back into her sweat soaked bed. She jumped up and ran to the restroom before her dinner came back up. Afterwards she let herself fall to the floor and begin to sob. The sobs shook her so thoroughly that she could barely breathe. When they had subsided a bit her stomach hurt and she had a bruise on the back of her head from when she hit it on the wall during one of the sobs. She curled up against the wall for a moment then decided she had to get off the cold tile and left the restroom for her chair beside the fire. She didn't try going back to sleep, she didn't actually want to go back to sleep. Instead she stared into the fire until the sun started peaking through some of the windows. Then she went to take a quick shower and change into her school clothes. She was the first one to breakfast, getting there even before the house elves were done setting up. She sat at the far end of the table where she knew no one would notice her. About ten minutes later students began to wander in until the entire room was filled with students. Within that mass Nimue had never felt more alone than she did now. Looking around she saw that everyone had someone else to share his or her lives with. Even Neville had some people like himself to talk to. Nimue looked down at her food and suddenly couldn't stand to see it. Feeling a similar thing in her stomach as what she had felt last night she stood up and sprinted from the room. In the safe haven of the bathroom, Nimue let her guts pour forth. The same sobs from last night returned and she let them. The worst thing about sprinting from the room, she knew, was that no one had noticed. No one had even bothered to look up from his or her friends to see another student sprint from the room. No one gave a shit that she was even there. Slowly the sobs tapered off until she was just breathing heavily. Deep down she knew that she had to be alone. Getting close to anyone was dangerous, and not just for her own sake but for the sake of everyone else. She let out a sigh and decided it was time to face the world again. She washed off her face quickly then left the bathroom to go to potions.
The day passed as monotonously as it had for the past month. That night after supper she decided she had to get out of the castle for a while. She sneaked quietly out of the castle, grabbing her broom on the way. Outside she jumped easily onto it and took off. Soaring upward she loosened her hair until it was flowing in waves behind her. She loved the feel of it flowing about her as she glided through the air. The farther away from Hogwarts she was the faster she flew. The wind whipped at her face, making her cheeks rosy, her eyes teary, and her lips stung with windburn. Eventually when she looked down at the ground she realized she didn't recognize anything, and slowed to a stop. For a moment she hovered one thousand feet above ground, then she spun her broom around and raced back in the direction she'd come. When she saw the Forbidden Forest miles below her, she let herself free fall for a moment, and then she began to race toward the earth. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a gleam coming from the surface of a lake, and turned her broom slightly to follow it. The broom dove at the water, but just before she plunged into the cold depths of the Lake, she pulled up on it so that her toes barely touched the water. She let her feet skim along the lake for a moment before landing on a sand bar in the center of the lake. She lay back to look at the stars, believing that for just one moment she could be happy where she was. Unfortunately her thought was interrupted by someone clearing their throat on the Lake's shore.
'You're quite good, you know? You could play Quidditch if you had any interest.' Nimue sighed and sat up.
'I don't have any interest, thank you, Mr. Potter.' Nimue replied airily.
'I'm not a teacher; you don't have to keep referring to me as "Mr. Potter". Most people just call me Potter.'
'Well, thank you for that valuable information, Mr. Potter, I'll be sure to use it someday.' Nimue sneered.
'Did I do something wrong?' Harry asked. Nimue lay back on her elbows for a moment and let out a sigh as a tear rolled down her cheek. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then looked back over at the silhouette on the shore.
'No. You did nothing.' She said simply, then took up her broom and flew off on it. Harry stood on the shore for a moment wondering what the hell had just happened, then shrugged and returned to the castle on his own broom.