"If dreams are like movies, then memories are films about ghosts."-the Counting Crows
Films About Ghosts
Chapter Four: Hogwarts
Ariane spent a lot of time awake that night. She had slept for a thousand years—she didn't think losing one night was going to kill her. Perched in the window, she looked out and up into the green-blue waters of the lake, seeing shadows of fish and a giant tentacle-covered thing that she didn't know the name of, and once when the water became very still the white silhouette of the moon. Her breath made wet clouds on the cold glass windows, but she was thinking of other things.
Memories seemed to be leaking into her brain at a much faster rate. Now they swept her away when she was awake and tracing patterns her steamy breathe on the window, when she was standing in the bathroom staring at herself in the mirror, trying to find signs of the man that had given her his surname: Somerled. She even remembered things while she was hovering over the sink with a pair of scissors in hand; cutting her overlong hair into something that resembled the other girls'. It had turned out decently, she thought, especially as she had only learned how to wield the scissors that night. Ariane brushed her new fringe out of her eyes—she had made it too long on purpose, since every time she pushed her hair away she was reminded of the brother that had stolen her away from Death.
Had Salazar though that he had failed; had he died thinking that he hadn't been able to save his sister from the forever grasp of Death? Snape had said that her brother had left Hogwarts six years after she died and died himself ten years after that. What had made him leave? Did he know who it was who had killed her? Ariane put a hand to her mouth. Maybe that was why Salazar had left—he couldn't bear to be in the same castle with the person who had murdered his sister. He must have found out.
Ariane rested her head against the cold glass and tapped her head firmly against it, as though hoping to knock the memory out of hiding. Of all things for her not to remember. She had tried not trying, in the hopes that it would come out if not sought, like a cat, and she had tried trying until her head pounded and her eyes watered.
The funny thing was, she could remember most other things. A few gaps had not yet been filled in—when she was a small girl, some holes between girlhood and Hogwarts, but Hogwarts itself was crystal clear up until she turned fifteen. There it went spotty once more, ending with the hiss-shuck and the bloody mess in the grass. And the boy with pockmarks, who was so clearly precious to her that she wanted him back almost as much as she desired to see Salazar again. His name had been lost in the channels of her mind, but his face was one of the clearest.
She traced the cold glass with her finger, feeling beneath her fingers the soft flesh of a face, pitted here and there with pockmarks. He had a long nose and a mesmerizing way of flaring his nostrils when he was excited or angry. Sharp cheekbones gave him a slightly predatory look that was softened by his long hair, a rich dark copper that she had twirled idly around her fingers once—it made her marvel that she'd ever been able to do such a thing idly, since now that he was long dust she was fascinated by his every feature. The eyes were what she remembered best—sea green, with red eyelashes—and also the graphic feeling of kissing him, his hands on either side of her face and the rough bark of a tree pressing into her back.
They had been hiding from someone.
Ariane rested her chin on her knees, her eyelids growing steadily heavier. It might have been Godric, who she'd been betrothed to at one point. She had a hazy, indistinct memory of that troth being broken at some point, but maybe it had been rearranged; Salazar was moody with such things. A memory of Salazar being horribly angry rose to the top of her mind, followed by a distinct feeling of guilt. Ariane closed her heavy eyelids and leaned against the window, trying to make the memory clearer. She had done something wrong...but she couldn't remember what...and she had apologized...but her admission of guilt had driven him into a fury...that was it.
"Ariane? Hey, wake up," someone shook her and Ariane opened her gummy eyes. Tuyet's curiously slanted eyes looked back at her uncertainly. "I'm not sure what the custom is where you come from, but here we sleep in these nice cushy things called beds."
"I couldn't sleep," she explained, wincing as a muscle in her neck pulled. "So I was watching the water." When she tried to get off the windowsill her legs got tangled and she fell.
Tuyet caught her before she hit the floor. "Whoa there. You've still got a couple hours before breakfast, try and get some quality sleep. You're going to need it." She steered the silver-haired girl to her bed, and Ariane fell against the pillows, asleep before she could thank Tuyet.
To her surprise, the next thing that met her eyes was watery sunlight, filtered through the green lake. Someone was shaking her roughly, and then another voice called "Don't worry about her, Millicent. If she misses breakfast it's not our problem." Ariane rolled over and stared blankly at the ceiling, then, remembering where she was, sat up and looked about. Everyone had gone downstairs to breakfast except the massive Millicent, who was struggling to tie a necktie around her thick neck.
Ariane vaulted up and tugged on the uniform at the end of the bed, letting the black robes fall over her head. She splashed cold water on her face, scrubbed at her crusty eyes, and looped the necktie around her neck without bothering to tie it. Ruffling her fingers through her curls in an effort to make them look less slept-upon, Ariane hopped down the stairs while trying to put on her shoes.
As it turned out, her haste wasn't really necessary. The four long tables in the Great Hall were only half-filled with sleepy students, though it already contained more students than Ariane had ever seen in Salazar's Hogwarts. The huge flags that contained the various symbols of the houses abated any nervousness she had felt about accidentally sitting down at the wrong table, and she took her seat under the silver serpent. She snatched a few pieces of toast from a passing platter, spread them with jam, and then sprinkled sugar on top of that. Ariane chewed thoughtfully as her memories played once more.
"What are these?" she asked Salazar, who was trying to thread a needle to repair a green pendent. He was squinting and repeatedly jabbing the thread at the needle with no success. Ariane took it from him and threaded it in one try; he gave her a dirty look.
"Show off," he grumbled. "'S not my fault I can't do a woman's work."
"I know," said Ariane patiently. "What are they, Salazar?"
"My crest, for Hogwarts. It's going on a pole above my House." He shook out the green folds to display a serpent embroidered in silver threads over a black herbalist's symbol. A large three-cornered hole marred the end of the serpent's tail. Without being asked Ariane took up her own needle and thread and began on one side of the tear. "Thanks," he said, digging his needle into the other side. "So how do you like Hogwarts so far?"
"There's not many people my age," Ariane said, trying to improve her stitches, which were not small enough to suit her. "Seems like all the fourteen-year-olds are in the south."
Salazar frowned and stuck himself with the needle. "God's eyes!" He sucked on the finger he had jabbed and spoke around it: "Aren't there a few children from the village?"
"They're boys," Ariane squinted at the fabric. "Isn't there any better light? I'm going half blind in here."
"I'm a boy," Salazar pointed out, bringing the candle closer. "Look, if you're nervous about meeting them I could introduce you."
Ariane blushed. "I'm not nervous," she said uncomfortably. "It's just...well, I feel like you wouldn't like me talking to them."
Salazar stabbed himself again. "Damn!" He shook his hand as Ariane finished her leg of the tear and started on his, issuing a steady stream of curses as blood squeezed out of his fingertip. "Whatever gave you that idea?" Ariane shrugged blandly and tied off her thread near Salazar's messy stitches. "I'll introduce you to them tomorrow. They're good lads—the tanner's and the blacksmith's sons, aren't they?"
"Yes," muttered Ariane as she rose to her feet. "Good luck with the flags."
The memory skipped ahead, and she was lying on her back with roots poking into her spine, her fingers entwined with someone else's.
"That's the Great Bear," he was saying in a soft voice, his free arm pointing at the sky. "And over there—that's Andromeda."
"Who Perseus saved from the sea serpent," Ariane replied, her voice a murmur. "Draco." She pointed at the long string of stars, tracing the line with her finger. It took her a moment to realize that she was being watched, and she twisted her head to look at her companion.
"You're like a star yourself, you know," he said, twirling one of her silver curls around his finger. "Just as special."
"There are thousands of stars," she replied, looking up again. "Hundreds of thousands."
"But each one is different, in a way," he persisted, the grass rustling as he turned on his side. "Some glow blue, others yellow, some brighter than others."
"Sirius is the brightest," Ariane replied in an effort to bring the conversation to something she understood. What she didn't understand were the strange feelings of hope and desire running along her spine. There was silence filled with the small noises of the forest, and then he said:
"You didn't tell Salazar that we were out here, did you?" Ariane flinched but said nothing, then the other boy pulled himself to a half-sitting position. "Ariane?" he asked again. When she remained silent he propped an arm on either side of her and brought his grinning face within an inch of hers.
"Get off!" Ariane said, giggling. "Of course I didn't."
He laughed, and in that infinitesimal pause she saw stars reflecting from her eyes to his, and the stars of Draco tangled in his red hair. Sticks were digging into her back and she took his face and brought it down to hers and the crickets were chirping and the brightest star of all watched them as they kissed in the long grass of the field.
"Earth to new girl," Blaise whistled and waved his hands in front of her face. "You're losing your sugar rush."
Ariane blushed and grabbed the piece of toast that had fallen into her lap. "Thanks," she said, sponging sugar-gritty jelly from the front of her robes.
"Don't mention it. Snape told me to give you this," Blaise handed her a rolled piece of parchment, "And he also told me that he expects to see you in his office before any of your classes begin."
Ariane unrolled the parchment and scanned her schedule, noting that she had Charms and Potions that morning and History of Magic, double Herbology and a Flying lesson in the afternoon. "Wait!" she said as Blaise turned to go. "Where's Snape's office?" According to this schedule and the large clock on the wall, she had to fit him in before Charms began in fifteen minutes. Her schedule was packed—she was taking six classes and had Flying lessons twice per week. Flying? Ariane wondered as she waited for Blaise to talk, like on a broomstick? How dreadful!
"Down that hallway, take the first left you see, and then straight until you get to the dungeons. Those are pretty unmistakable. On your right." Blaise waved towards the passage she'd come in by, then went off to sit next to Tuyet, one of his hands tangling in her blonde hair. She pretended not to like it, but Ariane had seen the smile that passed over her face. Her heart ached as she thought of hair the color of dark copper.
Stuffing the schedule into her pocket, Ariane clambered out of her seat and started down the passageway, turning left at the first passageway she saw. Without a thought she put out her hand and braced herself on the wall as a dizzy spell washed over her.
"See this," Salazar ordered her proudly, running his hands over the wall. "I did all this myself, and doesn't it look fine?"
"Ariane." Snape shook her lightly, his black eyes unreadable as always. "Wake up."
"This was part of Hogwarts when I was a little girl," she said softly, her eyes unfocused.
Snape shook her harder, so that her teeth clacked together uncomfortably. "You need to stay in the present day, Ariane," he growled, his surly face an inch from hers.
Her eyes snapped back into focus. "Sorry," she murmured, looking away. "I can't help it."
"You'd better learn to help it," he said bruskly, releasing her with an abruptness that was rude. "You'll be in trouble if you don't pay attention in class." Ariane watched him walk away, her mouth slightly open in surprise at this rough treatment. "Follow me," he told her, speaking as though she were a half-wit, and she followed resentfully. He was going to make her late to Charms, which she'd never been particularly quick at. Not only that, she realized with a sinking stomach, but if she was late she would have to walk in to a class full of people she didn't know and they would stare at her. The thought made her shiver.
"In here."
A familiar smell rose to greet her, the pungent, slightly rotten odor of potion ingredients. "You teach Potions?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Snape looked back at her, every pore oozing with dislike. "Yes, I do," he said stiffly. "My office." He gestured her into a small room filled with jars and pickled things and a few barrels that Ariane was certain contained either dragon liver or blood—nothing else could be so pungent. She inhaled deeply and almost smiled but caught herself first: there was a spectacular thing on the table, filled with a silver light that shifted like nothing of this world. Unconsciously she reached out to it, wanting to cup the silver lights in her hands.
"Don't touch it," Snape snapped.
"It's beautiful," Ariane replied.
He sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's a Pensieve. It holds thoughts and memories." Stalking across his office, he threw back at her, "It's not supposed to be beautiful."
Ariane looked at it—she couldn't stop, it was hypnotic—until Snape prodded the contents with his wand. They swirled and turned dark, reflecting a starry night and two people lying on their backs, stargazing. The memory was so fresh in Ariane's mind that she jumped backwards. Her face flushed at the girl she recognized as herself kissed the red-haired boy. "Stop it!" she demanded, cheeks burning with humiliation. "You haven't any business watching that."
"You've forgotten that I've seen almost all the memories hidden away inside your mind. Dumbledore has seen them too, now that they are in the Pensieve." His eyes fixed insolently on hers, Snape prodded the contents and Ariane and the boy rippled away, replaced by a dark cellar. Ungodly screams were coming from above the ground, the screams of a woman being burned alive, and a silver-haired toddler sucked her thumb in the corner of a cellar. Another ripple and she was clambering down inside the quarry, her skirts shredded by rocks and her face stretched with laughter, yet another and she was standing in a dark corner with the boy and being kissed.
"Stop!" she cried. "I can't watch anymore." He raised his eyebrows at her but allowed the thoughts to become the opaque silver mist.
"You'll have to see them all sooner or later," he told her. "This Pensieve will always be here for you to look at whenever you want. You will be required to visit at least three times a week, though."
"I suppose you'll have to be here," Ariane said sullenly.
Snape shrugged and his mouth curled into a smirk. "Dumbledore or myself, yes." Ariane didn't reply, instead staring down at the indentations her fingernails had made in the palms of her hands. The silence stretched until Snape broke it. "Ah," he said, remembering something. "This is for you."
He handed her a long, slim box that, when she opened it, contained a wand that shone with new polish. Ariane took it out reverently, feeling the wood warm in her hands. "Is this Olivanders'?" she asked, turning it this way and that. "It looks exactly like my first wand."
"Yes, special order," Snape said. "Olivander keeps an extensive stock, luckily for you."
Experimentally Ariane twirled the wand, and then pointed it at one of the jars full of eyeballs. "Accio!" she said, and it zoomed towards her and landed gently in her outstretched palm. She grinned at Snape's annoyance. "Haven't done that in about a thousand years," she shrugged idly, sticking the wand into her pocket. "Tell Mr. Olivander that it's lovely."
Snape gave her a long look then turned away. "Get out of my office."
She hesitated, her mind full of stars. "Do you know what his name was?" she asked, her cheeks blushing once more. "The boy?"
For a moment it looked as though he would refuse to tell her, but then he sighed. "His name," he told her grudgingly, "was Laramy Ferrer." When she did not leave, but stood there with the name on her lips like a prayer, Snape snarled, "Get out." Ariane nearly skipped away, her heart so light that she felt as though she'd really died this time. Died and gone to heaven.
This feeling didn't last long—only until she realized that not only was she late to Charms, she had no idea where the class was located. Though the schedule did contain room numbers, nothing seemed to be located where the number suggested. The hallways were also deserted except for the occasional ghost, and Ariane didn't have enough courage to ask one of them for directions. She had walked for nearly half an hour when she finally spotted another student.
"Hello there!" she called, trotting up to him, trying to control the rush of blood to her face. What was her problem with blushing today? It was most embarrassing. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where the Charms classroom is? I can't seem to find it."
"Sure," he said, pointing to the opposite side of the school. "I don't know who gave you directions, but this isn't anywhere near Charms. It's way over in the east wing, third floor." He squinted at her, and then grinned as though he'd hit upon something extraordinary. She supposed he was good-looking, in a sort of dark way, even if he was obviously too vain to do something about his nearsightedness.
Ariane sighed. "This school is huge," she told him, in order to explain away her apparent stupidity about Hogwarts. "I'll never learn my way around."
"Are you a first year?" the boy asked in confusion. "You don't look—"
"I'm in the sixth year," she replied, trying to keep the conversation short. She was already very late to Charms, and if she didn't get clearer directions she would miss it entirely.
"What House? I've never seen you before..." his eyes lit upon the green and silver badge stitched to her black robes. "Oh. You're a Slytherin." He face fell.
"Yes," she said, confused. Why on earth would he look so disappointed by that? "Is that a problem?"
"No," he said hurriedly. "No, it's not." But he went off faster than Ariane thought necessary, and didn't look back. "So much for clear directions," she grumbled, and traipsed off in the direction he had indicated: east wing, third floor. To her great surprise, she recognized the section of the building—it had once been Rowena's workshop, except that when she had known it, it had been on the ground floor.
"Ariane!" someone hissed urgently. "In here!" Ariane saw Tuyet's blonde hair whisk out of sight around a doorframe and followed it. It was her Charms class, and they were packing up. She'd missed the lesson entirely. Grinding her teeth in vexation, Ariane walked through whispering students and introduced herself to the tiny teacher (who had to stand on his desk to speak to her face), Professor Flitwick.
"It's quite all right," he chirped when she explained her lateness. "Professor Snape has already assured me that you're quite competent in Charms."
What does he know? Ariane thought crossly. Oh, right. Everything. "That was kind of him," she said politely, resisting the urge to turn around and give the two giggling girls in the front row something to giggle about. They weren't even trying to be quiet as they talked about her.
"Look at her hair!"
"And that face?"
"Do you think she's anorexic?"
"What else? How could she be so skinny otherwise?"
Ariane dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and seriously considered turning around and giving the up-talker something to chew on, but instead concentrated on what Professor Flitwick was saying. "—And I hope you're familiar with your basic Mood-Altering Charms, like the Cheering Charms and such."
"Yes," she assured him, half-listening to the girls behind her.
"Where does she come from anyway?"
"I haven't got a clue? But I hear that she spent a week in the hospital wing?"
"My god, have you two got anything better to do that talk in questions? You're giving me a headache with your stupid conversation. Shut up—yes, I am talking to you." Ariane twisted enough to give Tuyet a grateful smile.
Professor Flitwick sighed gustily. "You can go have a seat next to Miss Bulstrode," he squeaked. "Class should be ending any minute now."
Ariane took a seat next to her massive classmate, who ignored her, and leaned across the aisle. "Thanks," she told Tuyet. "I was two seconds from giving them something to talk about."
"Don't mention it," Tuyet replied with a grin. "I use every chance I can get to mock those two. They're about as interesting as toe jam and talk at full bellow."
"Just because we can have a meaningful conversation without insulting someone?" the dark-haired girl said, flipping her thick hair over her shoulders.
"A conversation takes two intelligences, Padma, and between you and Mandy you've got about one."
Blaise laughed. "So that's what, a monologue?"
"I suppose," Tuyet smiled through her hair at him. "Not a particularly witty one, though."
"Kevin? Are you just going to let her mock me?" said Mandy, who was pale, freckled, and only saved from plainness by her long eyelashes.
Kevin swallowed visibly. "Now look here," he said firmly. "You can't just—you know—make fun of her when she didn't do anything."
Blaise leaned across the desk and patted Kevin on the back heartily. "Don't worry about it, Kev—she won't remember most of it after the wild loving you probably have in store for her." Kevin went purple and stared straight down at his desk.
Ariane giggled despite herself. "Is this how it always is?" she asked her blonde-haired friend.
"Mostly. Not always with the Gryffindors, because they know some nasty hexes," Tuyet said seriously. "A few of them practically turned Draco into a—" she closed her mouth as Draco turned around in his desk and glared at her.
"Don't talk about that," he said lightly, an edge on his voice that made Ariane want to vanish. He turned his pale eyes on Ariane. "Since you're a Slytherin, you should know this: nobody gossips about Draco Malfoy and doesn't regret it. Nobody at all." Draco smiled at Tuyet, his eyes still on the silver-haired girl. "Ask your new friend." He turned back to the front of the classroom just as the dismissal bell rang.
Ariane followed Tuyet out the door as they began the hike across the building to Snape's classroom. "What's he talking about?" she asked in an undertone as they turned a corner and went down a flight of stairs. Tuyet pretended to be tremendously busy stowing away her Charms homework, but Pansy leaned across her with a grin of grim pleasure.
"Third year she thought she'd spread false rumors about Draco," Pansy whispered conspiratorially. "But one day she woke up and found that spreading nasty stories was just about impossible." She moved off down the hall with a meaningful glance at Tuyet.
Ariane gazed at the blonde girl inquisitively until Tuyet sighed and explained. "While I was sleeping, someone—and I've a very shrewd idea who—snuck into our dormitory and hexed off my tongue."
She gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "You got it back, didn't you?"
"Well of course," her friend said, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. "But they left a note saying that if I went to Madam Pomfrey there'd be consequences."
"Like what?"
"Mainly that the hex would never wear off. If I kept mum about it, then it would be gone the next day."
"And you didn't tell anyone?" Ariane asked, watching her feet and Tuyet by turns as they went down the stairs. Her blonde hair swished against her shoulders as she shook her head. "Who did it? Draco?"
"I doubt it," Tuyet said tightly, "Because boys aren't allowed in our dormitory. There's a spell that stops them."
They walked in silence for a few more minutes, and then Ariane asked what she'd been dying to know since Pansy brought it up: "What did you say?"
Tuyet glared at her with her almond-shaped blue eyes. "Don't you think I've learned my lesson?" she snarled, and stepped inside the Potions classroom with an indignant swish of robes.
Films About Ghosts
Chapter Four: Hogwarts
Ariane spent a lot of time awake that night. She had slept for a thousand years—she didn't think losing one night was going to kill her. Perched in the window, she looked out and up into the green-blue waters of the lake, seeing shadows of fish and a giant tentacle-covered thing that she didn't know the name of, and once when the water became very still the white silhouette of the moon. Her breath made wet clouds on the cold glass windows, but she was thinking of other things.
Memories seemed to be leaking into her brain at a much faster rate. Now they swept her away when she was awake and tracing patterns her steamy breathe on the window, when she was standing in the bathroom staring at herself in the mirror, trying to find signs of the man that had given her his surname: Somerled. She even remembered things while she was hovering over the sink with a pair of scissors in hand; cutting her overlong hair into something that resembled the other girls'. It had turned out decently, she thought, especially as she had only learned how to wield the scissors that night. Ariane brushed her new fringe out of her eyes—she had made it too long on purpose, since every time she pushed her hair away she was reminded of the brother that had stolen her away from Death.
Had Salazar though that he had failed; had he died thinking that he hadn't been able to save his sister from the forever grasp of Death? Snape had said that her brother had left Hogwarts six years after she died and died himself ten years after that. What had made him leave? Did he know who it was who had killed her? Ariane put a hand to her mouth. Maybe that was why Salazar had left—he couldn't bear to be in the same castle with the person who had murdered his sister. He must have found out.
Ariane rested her head against the cold glass and tapped her head firmly against it, as though hoping to knock the memory out of hiding. Of all things for her not to remember. She had tried not trying, in the hopes that it would come out if not sought, like a cat, and she had tried trying until her head pounded and her eyes watered.
The funny thing was, she could remember most other things. A few gaps had not yet been filled in—when she was a small girl, some holes between girlhood and Hogwarts, but Hogwarts itself was crystal clear up until she turned fifteen. There it went spotty once more, ending with the hiss-shuck and the bloody mess in the grass. And the boy with pockmarks, who was so clearly precious to her that she wanted him back almost as much as she desired to see Salazar again. His name had been lost in the channels of her mind, but his face was one of the clearest.
She traced the cold glass with her finger, feeling beneath her fingers the soft flesh of a face, pitted here and there with pockmarks. He had a long nose and a mesmerizing way of flaring his nostrils when he was excited or angry. Sharp cheekbones gave him a slightly predatory look that was softened by his long hair, a rich dark copper that she had twirled idly around her fingers once—it made her marvel that she'd ever been able to do such a thing idly, since now that he was long dust she was fascinated by his every feature. The eyes were what she remembered best—sea green, with red eyelashes—and also the graphic feeling of kissing him, his hands on either side of her face and the rough bark of a tree pressing into her back.
They had been hiding from someone.
Ariane rested her chin on her knees, her eyelids growing steadily heavier. It might have been Godric, who she'd been betrothed to at one point. She had a hazy, indistinct memory of that troth being broken at some point, but maybe it had been rearranged; Salazar was moody with such things. A memory of Salazar being horribly angry rose to the top of her mind, followed by a distinct feeling of guilt. Ariane closed her heavy eyelids and leaned against the window, trying to make the memory clearer. She had done something wrong...but she couldn't remember what...and she had apologized...but her admission of guilt had driven him into a fury...that was it.
"Ariane? Hey, wake up," someone shook her and Ariane opened her gummy eyes. Tuyet's curiously slanted eyes looked back at her uncertainly. "I'm not sure what the custom is where you come from, but here we sleep in these nice cushy things called beds."
"I couldn't sleep," she explained, wincing as a muscle in her neck pulled. "So I was watching the water." When she tried to get off the windowsill her legs got tangled and she fell.
Tuyet caught her before she hit the floor. "Whoa there. You've still got a couple hours before breakfast, try and get some quality sleep. You're going to need it." She steered the silver-haired girl to her bed, and Ariane fell against the pillows, asleep before she could thank Tuyet.
To her surprise, the next thing that met her eyes was watery sunlight, filtered through the green lake. Someone was shaking her roughly, and then another voice called "Don't worry about her, Millicent. If she misses breakfast it's not our problem." Ariane rolled over and stared blankly at the ceiling, then, remembering where she was, sat up and looked about. Everyone had gone downstairs to breakfast except the massive Millicent, who was struggling to tie a necktie around her thick neck.
Ariane vaulted up and tugged on the uniform at the end of the bed, letting the black robes fall over her head. She splashed cold water on her face, scrubbed at her crusty eyes, and looped the necktie around her neck without bothering to tie it. Ruffling her fingers through her curls in an effort to make them look less slept-upon, Ariane hopped down the stairs while trying to put on her shoes.
As it turned out, her haste wasn't really necessary. The four long tables in the Great Hall were only half-filled with sleepy students, though it already contained more students than Ariane had ever seen in Salazar's Hogwarts. The huge flags that contained the various symbols of the houses abated any nervousness she had felt about accidentally sitting down at the wrong table, and she took her seat under the silver serpent. She snatched a few pieces of toast from a passing platter, spread them with jam, and then sprinkled sugar on top of that. Ariane chewed thoughtfully as her memories played once more.
"What are these?" she asked Salazar, who was trying to thread a needle to repair a green pendent. He was squinting and repeatedly jabbing the thread at the needle with no success. Ariane took it from him and threaded it in one try; he gave her a dirty look.
"Show off," he grumbled. "'S not my fault I can't do a woman's work."
"I know," said Ariane patiently. "What are they, Salazar?"
"My crest, for Hogwarts. It's going on a pole above my House." He shook out the green folds to display a serpent embroidered in silver threads over a black herbalist's symbol. A large three-cornered hole marred the end of the serpent's tail. Without being asked Ariane took up her own needle and thread and began on one side of the tear. "Thanks," he said, digging his needle into the other side. "So how do you like Hogwarts so far?"
"There's not many people my age," Ariane said, trying to improve her stitches, which were not small enough to suit her. "Seems like all the fourteen-year-olds are in the south."
Salazar frowned and stuck himself with the needle. "God's eyes!" He sucked on the finger he had jabbed and spoke around it: "Aren't there a few children from the village?"
"They're boys," Ariane squinted at the fabric. "Isn't there any better light? I'm going half blind in here."
"I'm a boy," Salazar pointed out, bringing the candle closer. "Look, if you're nervous about meeting them I could introduce you."
Ariane blushed. "I'm not nervous," she said uncomfortably. "It's just...well, I feel like you wouldn't like me talking to them."
Salazar stabbed himself again. "Damn!" He shook his hand as Ariane finished her leg of the tear and started on his, issuing a steady stream of curses as blood squeezed out of his fingertip. "Whatever gave you that idea?" Ariane shrugged blandly and tied off her thread near Salazar's messy stitches. "I'll introduce you to them tomorrow. They're good lads—the tanner's and the blacksmith's sons, aren't they?"
"Yes," muttered Ariane as she rose to her feet. "Good luck with the flags."
The memory skipped ahead, and she was lying on her back with roots poking into her spine, her fingers entwined with someone else's.
"That's the Great Bear," he was saying in a soft voice, his free arm pointing at the sky. "And over there—that's Andromeda."
"Who Perseus saved from the sea serpent," Ariane replied, her voice a murmur. "Draco." She pointed at the long string of stars, tracing the line with her finger. It took her a moment to realize that she was being watched, and she twisted her head to look at her companion.
"You're like a star yourself, you know," he said, twirling one of her silver curls around his finger. "Just as special."
"There are thousands of stars," she replied, looking up again. "Hundreds of thousands."
"But each one is different, in a way," he persisted, the grass rustling as he turned on his side. "Some glow blue, others yellow, some brighter than others."
"Sirius is the brightest," Ariane replied in an effort to bring the conversation to something she understood. What she didn't understand were the strange feelings of hope and desire running along her spine. There was silence filled with the small noises of the forest, and then he said:
"You didn't tell Salazar that we were out here, did you?" Ariane flinched but said nothing, then the other boy pulled himself to a half-sitting position. "Ariane?" he asked again. When she remained silent he propped an arm on either side of her and brought his grinning face within an inch of hers.
"Get off!" Ariane said, giggling. "Of course I didn't."
He laughed, and in that infinitesimal pause she saw stars reflecting from her eyes to his, and the stars of Draco tangled in his red hair. Sticks were digging into her back and she took his face and brought it down to hers and the crickets were chirping and the brightest star of all watched them as they kissed in the long grass of the field.
"Earth to new girl," Blaise whistled and waved his hands in front of her face. "You're losing your sugar rush."
Ariane blushed and grabbed the piece of toast that had fallen into her lap. "Thanks," she said, sponging sugar-gritty jelly from the front of her robes.
"Don't mention it. Snape told me to give you this," Blaise handed her a rolled piece of parchment, "And he also told me that he expects to see you in his office before any of your classes begin."
Ariane unrolled the parchment and scanned her schedule, noting that she had Charms and Potions that morning and History of Magic, double Herbology and a Flying lesson in the afternoon. "Wait!" she said as Blaise turned to go. "Where's Snape's office?" According to this schedule and the large clock on the wall, she had to fit him in before Charms began in fifteen minutes. Her schedule was packed—she was taking six classes and had Flying lessons twice per week. Flying? Ariane wondered as she waited for Blaise to talk, like on a broomstick? How dreadful!
"Down that hallway, take the first left you see, and then straight until you get to the dungeons. Those are pretty unmistakable. On your right." Blaise waved towards the passage she'd come in by, then went off to sit next to Tuyet, one of his hands tangling in her blonde hair. She pretended not to like it, but Ariane had seen the smile that passed over her face. Her heart ached as she thought of hair the color of dark copper.
Stuffing the schedule into her pocket, Ariane clambered out of her seat and started down the passageway, turning left at the first passageway she saw. Without a thought she put out her hand and braced herself on the wall as a dizzy spell washed over her.
"See this," Salazar ordered her proudly, running his hands over the wall. "I did all this myself, and doesn't it look fine?"
"Ariane." Snape shook her lightly, his black eyes unreadable as always. "Wake up."
"This was part of Hogwarts when I was a little girl," she said softly, her eyes unfocused.
Snape shook her harder, so that her teeth clacked together uncomfortably. "You need to stay in the present day, Ariane," he growled, his surly face an inch from hers.
Her eyes snapped back into focus. "Sorry," she murmured, looking away. "I can't help it."
"You'd better learn to help it," he said bruskly, releasing her with an abruptness that was rude. "You'll be in trouble if you don't pay attention in class." Ariane watched him walk away, her mouth slightly open in surprise at this rough treatment. "Follow me," he told her, speaking as though she were a half-wit, and she followed resentfully. He was going to make her late to Charms, which she'd never been particularly quick at. Not only that, she realized with a sinking stomach, but if she was late she would have to walk in to a class full of people she didn't know and they would stare at her. The thought made her shiver.
"In here."
A familiar smell rose to greet her, the pungent, slightly rotten odor of potion ingredients. "You teach Potions?" she asked before she could stop herself.
Snape looked back at her, every pore oozing with dislike. "Yes, I do," he said stiffly. "My office." He gestured her into a small room filled with jars and pickled things and a few barrels that Ariane was certain contained either dragon liver or blood—nothing else could be so pungent. She inhaled deeply and almost smiled but caught herself first: there was a spectacular thing on the table, filled with a silver light that shifted like nothing of this world. Unconsciously she reached out to it, wanting to cup the silver lights in her hands.
"Don't touch it," Snape snapped.
"It's beautiful," Ariane replied.
He sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's a Pensieve. It holds thoughts and memories." Stalking across his office, he threw back at her, "It's not supposed to be beautiful."
Ariane looked at it—she couldn't stop, it was hypnotic—until Snape prodded the contents with his wand. They swirled and turned dark, reflecting a starry night and two people lying on their backs, stargazing. The memory was so fresh in Ariane's mind that she jumped backwards. Her face flushed at the girl she recognized as herself kissed the red-haired boy. "Stop it!" she demanded, cheeks burning with humiliation. "You haven't any business watching that."
"You've forgotten that I've seen almost all the memories hidden away inside your mind. Dumbledore has seen them too, now that they are in the Pensieve." His eyes fixed insolently on hers, Snape prodded the contents and Ariane and the boy rippled away, replaced by a dark cellar. Ungodly screams were coming from above the ground, the screams of a woman being burned alive, and a silver-haired toddler sucked her thumb in the corner of a cellar. Another ripple and she was clambering down inside the quarry, her skirts shredded by rocks and her face stretched with laughter, yet another and she was standing in a dark corner with the boy and being kissed.
"Stop!" she cried. "I can't watch anymore." He raised his eyebrows at her but allowed the thoughts to become the opaque silver mist.
"You'll have to see them all sooner or later," he told her. "This Pensieve will always be here for you to look at whenever you want. You will be required to visit at least three times a week, though."
"I suppose you'll have to be here," Ariane said sullenly.
Snape shrugged and his mouth curled into a smirk. "Dumbledore or myself, yes." Ariane didn't reply, instead staring down at the indentations her fingernails had made in the palms of her hands. The silence stretched until Snape broke it. "Ah," he said, remembering something. "This is for you."
He handed her a long, slim box that, when she opened it, contained a wand that shone with new polish. Ariane took it out reverently, feeling the wood warm in her hands. "Is this Olivanders'?" she asked, turning it this way and that. "It looks exactly like my first wand."
"Yes, special order," Snape said. "Olivander keeps an extensive stock, luckily for you."
Experimentally Ariane twirled the wand, and then pointed it at one of the jars full of eyeballs. "Accio!" she said, and it zoomed towards her and landed gently in her outstretched palm. She grinned at Snape's annoyance. "Haven't done that in about a thousand years," she shrugged idly, sticking the wand into her pocket. "Tell Mr. Olivander that it's lovely."
Snape gave her a long look then turned away. "Get out of my office."
She hesitated, her mind full of stars. "Do you know what his name was?" she asked, her cheeks blushing once more. "The boy?"
For a moment it looked as though he would refuse to tell her, but then he sighed. "His name," he told her grudgingly, "was Laramy Ferrer." When she did not leave, but stood there with the name on her lips like a prayer, Snape snarled, "Get out." Ariane nearly skipped away, her heart so light that she felt as though she'd really died this time. Died and gone to heaven.
This feeling didn't last long—only until she realized that not only was she late to Charms, she had no idea where the class was located. Though the schedule did contain room numbers, nothing seemed to be located where the number suggested. The hallways were also deserted except for the occasional ghost, and Ariane didn't have enough courage to ask one of them for directions. She had walked for nearly half an hour when she finally spotted another student.
"Hello there!" she called, trotting up to him, trying to control the rush of blood to her face. What was her problem with blushing today? It was most embarrassing. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where the Charms classroom is? I can't seem to find it."
"Sure," he said, pointing to the opposite side of the school. "I don't know who gave you directions, but this isn't anywhere near Charms. It's way over in the east wing, third floor." He squinted at her, and then grinned as though he'd hit upon something extraordinary. She supposed he was good-looking, in a sort of dark way, even if he was obviously too vain to do something about his nearsightedness.
Ariane sighed. "This school is huge," she told him, in order to explain away her apparent stupidity about Hogwarts. "I'll never learn my way around."
"Are you a first year?" the boy asked in confusion. "You don't look—"
"I'm in the sixth year," she replied, trying to keep the conversation short. She was already very late to Charms, and if she didn't get clearer directions she would miss it entirely.
"What House? I've never seen you before..." his eyes lit upon the green and silver badge stitched to her black robes. "Oh. You're a Slytherin." He face fell.
"Yes," she said, confused. Why on earth would he look so disappointed by that? "Is that a problem?"
"No," he said hurriedly. "No, it's not." But he went off faster than Ariane thought necessary, and didn't look back. "So much for clear directions," she grumbled, and traipsed off in the direction he had indicated: east wing, third floor. To her great surprise, she recognized the section of the building—it had once been Rowena's workshop, except that when she had known it, it had been on the ground floor.
"Ariane!" someone hissed urgently. "In here!" Ariane saw Tuyet's blonde hair whisk out of sight around a doorframe and followed it. It was her Charms class, and they were packing up. She'd missed the lesson entirely. Grinding her teeth in vexation, Ariane walked through whispering students and introduced herself to the tiny teacher (who had to stand on his desk to speak to her face), Professor Flitwick.
"It's quite all right," he chirped when she explained her lateness. "Professor Snape has already assured me that you're quite competent in Charms."
What does he know? Ariane thought crossly. Oh, right. Everything. "That was kind of him," she said politely, resisting the urge to turn around and give the two giggling girls in the front row something to giggle about. They weren't even trying to be quiet as they talked about her.
"Look at her hair!"
"And that face?"
"Do you think she's anorexic?"
"What else? How could she be so skinny otherwise?"
Ariane dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and seriously considered turning around and giving the up-talker something to chew on, but instead concentrated on what Professor Flitwick was saying. "—And I hope you're familiar with your basic Mood-Altering Charms, like the Cheering Charms and such."
"Yes," she assured him, half-listening to the girls behind her.
"Where does she come from anyway?"
"I haven't got a clue? But I hear that she spent a week in the hospital wing?"
"My god, have you two got anything better to do that talk in questions? You're giving me a headache with your stupid conversation. Shut up—yes, I am talking to you." Ariane twisted enough to give Tuyet a grateful smile.
Professor Flitwick sighed gustily. "You can go have a seat next to Miss Bulstrode," he squeaked. "Class should be ending any minute now."
Ariane took a seat next to her massive classmate, who ignored her, and leaned across the aisle. "Thanks," she told Tuyet. "I was two seconds from giving them something to talk about."
"Don't mention it," Tuyet replied with a grin. "I use every chance I can get to mock those two. They're about as interesting as toe jam and talk at full bellow."
"Just because we can have a meaningful conversation without insulting someone?" the dark-haired girl said, flipping her thick hair over her shoulders.
"A conversation takes two intelligences, Padma, and between you and Mandy you've got about one."
Blaise laughed. "So that's what, a monologue?"
"I suppose," Tuyet smiled through her hair at him. "Not a particularly witty one, though."
"Kevin? Are you just going to let her mock me?" said Mandy, who was pale, freckled, and only saved from plainness by her long eyelashes.
Kevin swallowed visibly. "Now look here," he said firmly. "You can't just—you know—make fun of her when she didn't do anything."
Blaise leaned across the desk and patted Kevin on the back heartily. "Don't worry about it, Kev—she won't remember most of it after the wild loving you probably have in store for her." Kevin went purple and stared straight down at his desk.
Ariane giggled despite herself. "Is this how it always is?" she asked her blonde-haired friend.
"Mostly. Not always with the Gryffindors, because they know some nasty hexes," Tuyet said seriously. "A few of them practically turned Draco into a—" she closed her mouth as Draco turned around in his desk and glared at her.
"Don't talk about that," he said lightly, an edge on his voice that made Ariane want to vanish. He turned his pale eyes on Ariane. "Since you're a Slytherin, you should know this: nobody gossips about Draco Malfoy and doesn't regret it. Nobody at all." Draco smiled at Tuyet, his eyes still on the silver-haired girl. "Ask your new friend." He turned back to the front of the classroom just as the dismissal bell rang.
Ariane followed Tuyet out the door as they began the hike across the building to Snape's classroom. "What's he talking about?" she asked in an undertone as they turned a corner and went down a flight of stairs. Tuyet pretended to be tremendously busy stowing away her Charms homework, but Pansy leaned across her with a grin of grim pleasure.
"Third year she thought she'd spread false rumors about Draco," Pansy whispered conspiratorially. "But one day she woke up and found that spreading nasty stories was just about impossible." She moved off down the hall with a meaningful glance at Tuyet.
Ariane gazed at the blonde girl inquisitively until Tuyet sighed and explained. "While I was sleeping, someone—and I've a very shrewd idea who—snuck into our dormitory and hexed off my tongue."
She gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "You got it back, didn't you?"
"Well of course," her friend said, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. "But they left a note saying that if I went to Madam Pomfrey there'd be consequences."
"Like what?"
"Mainly that the hex would never wear off. If I kept mum about it, then it would be gone the next day."
"And you didn't tell anyone?" Ariane asked, watching her feet and Tuyet by turns as they went down the stairs. Her blonde hair swished against her shoulders as she shook her head. "Who did it? Draco?"
"I doubt it," Tuyet said tightly, "Because boys aren't allowed in our dormitory. There's a spell that stops them."
They walked in silence for a few more minutes, and then Ariane asked what she'd been dying to know since Pansy brought it up: "What did you say?"
Tuyet glared at her with her almond-shaped blue eyes. "Don't you think I've learned my lesson?" she snarled, and stepped inside the Potions classroom with an indignant swish of robes.