Trysten winced as Snape slammed his office door behind them, bracing herself for Snape's anger. "What in the bloody hell do you think you were doing? Dueling with Draco Malfoy?" Trysten concentrated on breathing while Snape shouted, his words lost in her disorientation. Feeling as if it would only get worse, she put up her hand and gasped audibly.
"As…fun as th-this…is…ca we…f-fix…" She gestured helplessly to her body, battling for air. Snape snapped out of his rant.
"What did he hit you with?" Snape asked, suddenly business-like. Trysten shrugged and tried to recall that particular moment. Sensing her struggle, Snape cleared his throat. "I'll use legimency to find out." Amused by the warning glare the girl shot him but refusing to show it, he gave her a glare in return. "Discuss it with me later, when you can talk." Not waiting for permission, he dove into her mind, trying to find the right moment. He saw a flash of flame, an empty corridor, then Potter and Draco standing at wand point. He worked slowly through the last few moments, then managed to hear Malfoy shout 'athsmatico'. Finding this out and oblivious to the second hex, he stepped out of her mind and pointed his wand at her. "Respiro normalus," he said. Waiting a moment to see if it worked, he nodded once when she took a deep sigh. "Now, what-"
"Professor, could I have something for…this?" She lifted her hand. Grumbling about putting things off, Severus dug in his desk for a salve and a potion.
"Pain killer," he motioned to the potion. He gave her an inquisitive look regarding the salve.
"I'll do it," she told him. He handed her the salve and she downed the potion before gingerly applying the salve to her hand.
"What happened?" Snape snapped impatiently.
"To my hand or in the hall?" she asked earnestly.
Snape deliberated a moment. "Hand first."
Trysten winced then gave him a sheepish grin. "I reached into a seeing fire."
Snape snorted. "Why on earth did you do that?"
"I didn't mean to," Trysten pouted playfully. Her expression grew somber. "Someone was…falling," she amended. Feeling Snape begin to pick at her brain, she snapped, "They're not my memories to give."
Giving an inward smirk at the Ravenclaw's Gryffindor-worthy show of honor, he stopped. "And in the hallway?"
She gestured to the roll of gauze Snape had ready, which he gave to her before she responded. "I saw a duel beginning between Draco and Harry, and…I stepped in." She snorted. "Literally. I stepped between them as the first hexes were cast, leaving me…" She gestured to her chest.
Snape smirked. "Potter wasn't quick enough to the draw?" Trysten didn't answer. As Snape was about to inquire further, a new thought crossed his mind. "And the Gryffindor Golden Boy just left you?"
Not having thought of it as betrayal and cowardice, Trysten paused. "Yes. I told him to," she admitted.
"While you were gasping for breath?"
Trysten blushed. "Before the hexes hit me."
"Hexes?" Snape asked, suddenly at attention. Trying to get Snape to ignore her mistake, she shifted in her seat, which happened to be the edge of Snape's desk.
"What about Draco? You're not going to punish him, are you?"
"As much as I wish I could forget this, this requires action. Even of my own house," he sighed regretfully.
"No," Trysten told him firmly.
"What?" he asked incredulously.
"No. I was wronged and I do not seek amends. I will not have you punishing him."
"I think I liked it better when you wouldn't breathe," he sneered.
Trysten smirked back. As she opened her mouth to retort, she found herself short of breath once more. Looking at the professor in accusation and disbelief, she found him just as confused as she.
"Respiro normalus," he snapped. "What was that?"
"How should I know?" She took a breath, having a theory. "Well…there was one more hex." At Snape's raised eyebrow, she sighed. "Harry was able to throw a hex back at Draco….which I received." She winced. "He didn't say anything. I think it was a mental casting."
Snape glared into space. "I can only imagine Mr. Potter used a hex which repeats the last hex used on you periodically for a set amount of time."
"Next," Trysten amended. "The next hex. Harry's hit me first. I was closer to him," she quickly added, seeing the professor's rage grow. Seeing the twinkle in his eye, she looked sternly at him. "You will give neither Draco nor Harry any grief about his, is that understood?" Seeing Severus' smug look, she glared. "If I find out either Draco or Harry has been made unhappy by you regarding this incident, you will find the image of Harry's naked body on to of yours permanently etched into your brain, as well as plastered in the Slytherin dorms." He fixed her a death glare, which she easily ignored. "It's almost time for class. Thank you for your help," she added as an afterthought, heading for the door.
"Miss Moonjade," Professor Snape began coolly, "Should the hex act up again, or your hand gives you trouble with which you cannot deal, you may go out into the hallway. If you require assistance, call for me in your mind, since you seen so fond of sending me…messages. I'll be listening. Go ahead; I'm going to clean up in here."
Trysten left the office, knowing that the door she closed behind her now had a silencing charm on it to mask the fact that her professor was ranting and swearing very loudly inside. Whipping out a piece of parchment, she tore it in half. Quickly, she wrote:
'Harry-
Tell me should Snape give you trouble. (More than usual)
-T. Moonjade'
She folded it quickly and walked by Harry's desk, dropping it atop his Potions book. Snape stormed out of his office and began to write on the board. The class quieted slightly, but continued chatting. Taking out the other half of the parchment, Trysten set to work.
'Draco-
Sorry your hex didn't go as planned. Snape's been told to leave you be. Should he try to punish you, let me know and I'll get it fixed.
-T. Moonjade'
She folded the paper into an origami crane and cast a spell to make it fly, a trick she learned from her time in Japan. She found Draco and caught his eye (which hadn't been hard since he was staring at her), then flew the note over to him.
She looked to the board as Snape began to lecture, then instructed them to do bookwork in small groups or individually. Trysten was halfway through her essay on Felix Felicis when the hex set in once more. Gasping in one breath and attempting to hold it, Trysten made for the door, the stool she knocked over an inconspicuous noise in the loud classroom. She got outside the classroom and sank down the wall. Struggling to breathe once more and the pain in her back starting up again, she clenched her eyes and thought as hard as she could, 'Severus!'
Draco hadn't worked at all that Potions class, pondering instead the note Moonjade had sent him. He was studying the girl when suddenly her face paled and contorted, followed by her escape from the room. He had hardly a moment to question this when a voice ripped through his mind. "Severus!" It called, its need and pain surprising Draco.
"Attention!" the teacher snapped suddenly. "I have to leave for a moment. No fooling around while I'm gone or you all will be punished. Giving the class a glare, Snape strode quickly from the room. Incredibly interested in why the girl had fled so suddenly, as well as why she called to his godfather by his first name, Draco gave Blaise and Pansy a mischievous smirk before silently slipping out the door. Pressing the door closed behind him, Draco leaned against it, listening. "Respiro normalus," Snape muttered. "Couldn't do that yourself?"
Draco could tell Severus was mad at himself for being worried and smirked. "Sorry, it's kind of hard to say an incantation correctly when you can't breathe!" Moonjade snapped.
"I can't see why you're protecting Mr. Malfoy," Snape commented.
"I can't see why you care," she retorted. "Beside, it's not Draco's curse that's doing this."
Not my curse? Draco asked himself, puzzled. Who else's could it be?
"Ah, yes," Snape sneered. "We have the charming Mr. Potter to blame for this. And yet you won't let me get at him either."
"No, I won't. Harry didn't mean to hit me."
Snape snorted. "But he left you writhing on the ground."
He did, didn't he? Draco questioned, amazed at the audacity the boy had shown. He had to have known he hit her with…whatever it was.
"Because I told him to. And I wasn't writhing. Severus Snape, you had better keep your anger in check before you do something you'll regret." Draco listened to her shoes scuffle on the stone as, he assumed, she tried successfully to stand.
"Miss Moonjade," Snape began in a playfully scornful tone, "You've ripped your uniform on the stone."
"I have not!" She cried indignantly. "That was from the bloody th-" She stopped.
"The bloody what?" Snape asked seriously.
The girl sighed. "Alright I'll tell you… better yet, I'll show you. So you'll know I'm not making it up." Draco butted in with his legimency as Snape begin to filter through. He went slowly through every moment, but as soon as Draco began to hear a man's voice, she booted Snape, and therefore Draco, abruptly.
"Whose voice was that?" Snape asked suspiciously.
"I…think it was Hagrid's," The girl answered. "He and Dumbledore came down to Hagrid's this morning." She sighed. "Professor, perhaps it is best we headed in. You have a class to attend to and I have an essay to write."
Snape nodded. "You go in first, amidst the raucous. I'll follow later." Realizing they were coming his way, Draco quickly slipped inside the chaotic room and went to his seat, pondering the strange Miss Moonjade and the majestic creature she had been with.
When the period had ended, Trysten was happy that she had managed to finish her Felix Felicis essay within the interrupted class time, and wasn't hit with another reoccurrence. Trysten hummed under her breath as she walked down to Hagrid's deciding to do so before it got dark and just eat dinner later. She knocked a syncopated rhythm on Hagrid's door, which cracked open. Frowning, she opened the door, only to find the fire cold and Hagrid nowhere to be found. She went out the back door, hoping to find Hagrid in the gardens, but wasn't surprised when he was absent.
Looking around, Trysten was surprised to see the thestral looking at her for the second time that day. It stood by the edge of the forest, staring at her warmly. Smiling, Trysten walked up to him, courteously bowing deeply before reaching out to stroke his leathery neck. Unbeknownst to her, the man from the morning came closer to watch.
"Hey, there, boy," she crooned. "Twice in one day? You'll spoil me." As Trysten opened her mouth to speak, she felt a familiar dizziness as her lungs refused to work. Surprised by the swift retribution of the hex, she stumbled sideways, catching herself roughly on a tree. Collapsing onto her knees as she grabbed for her wand, she didn't notice the pale young man moving towards her, confusion and worry disrupting his serene countenance. Pointing her wand at her chest and taking as deep a breath as she could manage, Trysten ground out, "Respiro normalus." Feeling her lungs relax and her heartbeat become steady, she groggily stood, her hand on her head.
She smiled reassuringly at the thestral, but saw instead a strange glint in his eye. His nostrils huffed, and the thestral bore its pointy teeth, slowly stepping toward her. Confused, Trysten put a hand up to calm it and paled at the sight that met her. Her injured hand had been battered in her fall and was once again bleeding steadily. A passage whipped through her mind. 'Thestrals are carnivorous and are attracted to the smell of blood.'
"Blood," she murmured, glancing at her hand. "Oh no!" Stumbling backwards, her eyes never leaving the thestral's, Trysten suddenly found herself covered in darkness, a cold hand on her shoulder. She heard a hiss and hooves stomping, then nothing. The darkness slowly left her, the billowing edges of a cloak leaving her vision. She looked before her to find the thestral gone. She gazed to her left and saw the pale young man of her morning's adventures leaning on a tree. "Thank you," she murmured, almost certain that the man had somehow saved her.
The man smirked. "A thestral may be friendly, but tempt any man with what he most desperately desires, and all ties will be forgotten until the desire is fulfilled."
An odd chill penetrated Trysten as she considered this remark. She cleared her throat to rid herself of the eerie feeling. "So the thestral is male, then?" The man nodded. "Suits him," she mumbled.
"What of you?" the elegant voice asked.
"I'm…not male," Trysten answered, quite confused.
He smiled. "No, I can see that. I meant your situation." He looked her over. "You seem to be having a rather poor day."
Trysten grinned. "If being bitten by a thestral, receiving massive Transfiguration homework, seeing horrid memories, burning your entire hand, being hexed twice, yelled at by a teacher, attacked by a thestral, and aggravating said hand to the point of bleeding twice would constitute as a poor day, then one might say that, yes," she finished dryly. "What about you?" She asked, looking him over. "Is there a point to you hanging around the Forbidden Forest, or are you looking for a honeymoon location?"
The man smiled, then shrugged regally. "One could say…I have a task to complete."
Raising one eyebrow, Trysten looked skeptically at hi, but knew the world of secrets well enough not to push the matter. "Is your name a secret as well?"
"No, it's not," he chuckled.
"Could you tell it to me, then?" she prodded. "Please?"
"Could I know yours?" The insistent gleam in his eye told Trysten she would have to disclose before he did.
Sighing, she looked to him in mock annoyance. "And if I decline?"
"Well, names aren't used that often, are they?" The man smiled, amused. The looked at her expectantly.
Stubborn as a Gryffindor (and made so by the head of Slytherin, ironically), she jutted out her chin. "No, I suppose not." She looked him in the eyes a mischievous glint adorning her own.
Amidst their stare-down, a voice broke the silence. "Hagrid!" It called. "Hagrid!"
"Interrupted yet again," the man murmured. "Very well. I'll be seeing you again; I have no doubt of it."
Giving him an amused smirk, Trysten turned and walked towards Hagrid's cabin, certain he'd disappear as before. She entered the back door and had just closed it when she heard a hurried knock from the front. She went to open it and looked into the surprised face of one Harry Potter. "C-Can I help you?" she asked, equally as shocked.
Harry shifted in place. "Where's Hagrid?" he asked suspiciously.
Trysten shrugged. "He was gone when I got here. He should be back soon, though. Would you like to wait inside?" Harry nodded stiffly after a moment's hesitation, and Trysten opened the door wider so he could slip inside. Shutting it behind him, she turned to find he had already seated himself. "Tea?"
"Please," Harry said, studying the girl as she bent to blow the flames to life. "Have you been waiting long?" he asked conversationally as he looked at her.
"Oh, not too long. Just since dinner began."
"Dinner's over," he told her, eying her as she jumped.
"Really?" the girl looked amazed and perplexed as she set the kettle on the now-roaring fire.
"Tell me," Harry began coldly, "if you have been here for nearly two hours, why is it you're just starting the fire now?"
Trysten looked him over, insulted by the insinuations he arrogantly spat at the girl who took a hex for and from him merely hours before. "Not that it's any of your business, but I was tending the garden."
"Hagrid is my business," Harry sneered.
"As he is mine," she said incredulously, shaking her head in disbelief. The tea kettle began to whistle, breaking the silence but not the tension. Trysten expertly got out two mugs and poured the tea, handing Harry a mug and keeping one for herself.
Harry cocked an eyebrow in amusement as the girl plopped down on Hagrid's bed and sat cross-legged. "What business brings you here?" she asked, sipping her tea experimentally. "Perhaps I can help."
"I doubt it," he told her, not noticing her hurt glare. "It has to do with…" He stalled, thinking of something only Hagrid could know. Recalling second year, Harry smirked, ready to show her how much more he knew than she did. "Aragog."
Awaiting her look of confusion, Harry was disappointed when she grimaced. "Not a nice little bugger, is he?" She snorted. "Nor that little." Harry stared in astonishment, but before he could question her, the door swung open.
"'Arry? Tryst'n?" Hagrid asked. Any worries he may have had dissolved taking in Trysten's relaxed posture. "What're you two doing here?"
"I came to…talk," Harry said secretively.
"About Aragog, apparently," Trysten added before drinking another gulp. "And I was wondering…" She looked to Hagrid hopefully.
"No solutions yet. As much as I hate to refer you, perhaps Professor Snape would know more about the topic tha' me." Trysten nodded and stood. "Too late tonigh'," Hagrid added. Trysten nodded and went to the door.
"Harry," she nodded, "Hagrid." She left, securing the door behind her.
"Puzzled, Hagrid turned to the boy at the table. "Now, 'Arry, why are yeh askin' after Aragog?" Harry shook his head and stirred his tea, Hagrid sitting down as he waited for Harry to explain.
Irritated by Harry's audacity, the feeling only accentuated by her growing hunger, Trysten stormed down to the kitchens. Tickling the pear rather painfully, she yanked open the door. Greeted by a few fearful, startled yelps from the house elves, Trysten took a deep breath to calm herself down. Forcing a small smiled, she looked down to see Rifka and Dobby side by side, awaiting orders.
"I seem to have missed dinner, do you think I could take some back to my dorm room?" Trysten asked tentatively. Seeing the rush the kitchens were in, she put up a hand to pause them. "You seem overrun. Could I help with cleanup first?" Glancing at Dobby, she smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I forgot. No helping."
"Of course Miss Moonjade can help!" Dobby cried, surprising her. "Dobby has heard what Miss Moonjade has done for Harry Potter. Dobby is sorry for doubting Miss Moonjade," he finished solemnly.
"Don't worry about it, Dobby," Trysten told him cheerfully. "How did you find out?"
"Dobby overheard Snape talking to headmaster Dumbledore," Dobby admitted.
Trysten's eyes flared. "Snape talked to Dumbledore?" She sighed. "Well, it wasn't Draco or Harry. Shall we get to work?" Dobby nodded and took Trysten reverently by the hand, Rifka following behind.
Draco had just finished his Transfiguration essay, having skipped dinner and spent it in the library. Wanting food for thought before starting his Potions essay, Draco headed down to the kitchens, knowing he'd receive his fill. With a grunt of disgust, Draco reached out and tickled the pear on a painting. Why in Merlin's name did Dumbledore make this the bloody trick to get into the kitchen? Probably some bloody muggle thing, he thought irritably. As he swung the door open, his indifferent mask was barely able to cover his surprise at the sight he saw. Amidst hundreds of house elves was the girl from earlier that day, cleaning dishes with the creatures as if she were one of them. Merlin! What does she think she's doing? He thought incredulously. The traitorous house elf that used to belong to the Malfoys dove behind the girl, startling her. She looked to the door, and, upon seeing Draco, she smiled. Wiping her hands on a towel she walked over to him, still smiling.
"Come for a late dinner, Draco?"
"Yes," he told her, still trying to figure her out.
"Rifka, could you come here a moment?" The girl called behind her.
Expecting another witch to be hidden behind a shelf, Draco was surprised when an elf came waddling up, although he would never show it. "Yes, Miss Moonjade?" the elf asked in its—her?—squeaky little voice.
"Could a few of you dif up something to eat? And remember, it's Trysten," she told it, smiling.
Is she on a first name basis with these things? Draco thought, appalled.
"Of course, Trysten," the elf said carefully.
"Thank you," Trysten murmured before turning back to Draco, motioning him to a nearby table. "Do you mind if I eat with you? I haven't eaten yet," she explained.
"Of course I mind," Draco snapped automatically, despite the odd feeling within him that had started at her request. Studying her, he noticed she seemed uncharacteristically hurt by this, and, for some reason, it bothered her. "I suppose it's the least I can do," he sighed, gesturing to the seat across from him. She sat, smiling gratefully.
The elves swiftly brought out dinner, the girl murmuring different phrases of gratitude, not all of them in English. They began to eat dinner, the only noise in the room the clinking of silverware. Tired of silence, Draco cleared his throat, making the girl jump. "What were you doing down here?"
"Just helping the elves," Trysten said, as if it were perfectly normal.
"Helping the elves? Merlin! Why would you do that?"
"They were bust," she told him simply.
"And they just let you come in here and help?" Draco nearly yelled.
"Oh, no. They wouldn't let me at first. But then Dobby heard about…what happened in the hallway, so he decided he trusted me not to poison 'Harry Potter'," she mimicked kindly.
She asked to help? Numerous times? Draco shook his head to clear it of the notion as if he were afraid it was contagious. Thinking over her sentence, Draco prodded his food with his fork a moment. "What did happen in the hallway?"
"What?" she asked, fear flickering over her face. "You were there, don't you remember?"
"Of course I remember," Draco sneered, masking his confusion over the relief that she showed. "That doesn't mean I understand it."
"Oh," she sighed, shifting in her seat. "What don't you understand?"
"Why Snape didn't kill me. Why you smiled after I hexed you. Why you said you were helping. Why you took a hex for Harry sodding Potter!"
Trysten smiled sadly and say back in her chair, as if she knew this was coming. "So many questions. First, Snape hasn't killed you yet," she put emphasis on the word, "because…I have a bit of leverage over him at the moment. But I've no doubt he is already searching for a way to beat that." Draco nodded, agreeing with this statement. Trysten sighed and shifted uncomfortably. "I assume the most pressing is why I protected Harry?" She asked simply. Draco nodded and she closed her eyes momentarily. "I had something of…a revelation this morning. I was in Divination this morning, looking through some memories…Harry's memories." At Draco's confused look she added," I'm on a somewhat…different project. Anyhow, I was struck by how much loss Harry has had to endure," she paused to glare at Draco's snort, "and…I was viewing one last memory…and I had to watch a man die. There was nothing I could do and-and-" She took a breath, realizing her voice was shaking. "I don't know if Harry's emotions were channeling through or…if it just struck to close to home, but-"
"You were the one," Draco interrupted, gazing at her in wonder. "In Divination, you were the one that screamed." Draco studied her as she blushed.
"Yes… I didn't know I was doing it at the time. After all of you left and after I had time to calm down, I walked to Potions, where I ran into Harry, Hermione, Ron…and you. I guess I was still a little emotional," she admitted, "because before I knew it I was telling Harry to leave and getting hexed from both sides." The girl dragged her fork through her food then dropped it. "So now you know why."
He studied her defeated, defensive posture and decided further insult wouldn't be appropriate. "What did Potter hex you with?" he asked, convincing himself it was only to know what the boy had tried to hit him with.
"He did it mentally, so we don't know the name," she told him. Draco raised an eyebrow at we' but allowed her to continue. "Its effects, however, we are pretty sure of. The hex Harry cast was designed to take the next spell cast on the person and repeats it periodically for a set amount of time. How periodically and how long we have no clue." Again, she smiled sadly and toyed with her food.
"How many times so far?"
"Three," she answered reaching for her glass.
Eyes attracted to the abrupt motion, Draco let out a hint of a grimace. "Your hand is bleeding," he pointed out.
"Bloody hell," she cried, exasperated. "Again?" Conjuring up gauze, she didn't see the amused shock that registered over Draco's face. "Scourgify," she murmured, cleansing away the blood.
So there is something behind that sweet disposition, Draco smirked. Awaiting the resumption of conversation, Draco watched the girl struggle to do bandage her wound one-handed. Amusement disappearing quickly to be replaced with impatience, Draco soon stood with a dry statement of "Merlin." Taking the bandage from the girl, he began to gently wind her hand in gauze. "How in Merlin's name did you manage to do this?" he asked, a twinge of unwanted worry entering his mind as he gazed upon the battered flesh.
She looked at him, a twinkle in her eye. "Remember that memory I had told you about? The man dying?" Draco nodded as he continued his work. "Well…he was falling. So, naturally, I reach out to grab him." Draco paused in his ministrations, wondering just what else was 'natural' for the girl. He resumed as she began to speak again. "It just didn't really register that the manifestation of the memory was made…of…fire," she finished, the last few words lost as she gazed at the delicate pale hands caressing her own. She sat silently as he finished.
Smirking as he stood to examine the work, a devastating thought crossed his mind. Did I just help her? Swallowing hard, Draco took a step backwards. "I should go," he told her. "I still have my Potions essay to finish."
Grimacing, the girl stood as well. "And I have Transfiguration." Watching with interest as the elves cleared the plates away, she shifted her weight to one side. "Thank you for the help," she told him, lifting her bandaged hand.
Wincing internally, Draco smirked. "Next time, don't stop into a duel," he advised smugly. "Bloody Gryffindor bravery." Draco strode toward the door.
"I'm not," Trysten called, making Draco freeze with his hand on the door.
"Not what?" he asked, not facing her.
"Gryffindor."
"…Oh," Draco managed to say, confused by a sense of relief set deep within him. Saying nothing more, Draco slipped out the door and closed it behind him. Draco walked to the Slytherin lair his thoughts preoccupied, and barely managed to glare at Pansy when she bounced up to him and started talking madly. Unable to drive her off, Draco went to his bedroom to work and slammed the door in her face.
Sitting before a roll of parchment, Draco sighed. I'd better make this quality work. Severus isn't likely to take it easy on me while he's ready to kill me. However, Draco did not start his essay for several minutes, the relationship between his godfather and Trysten occupying his thoughts.
(A/N: XeVanne: Don't worry, more Draco is on the way. And as for Harry in Chapter Four: In the summary I put "Characters brought to their extremes", or some variation of that. What I mean was Hermione will be extra snobbish and book-wormy, Ron will be thick and hot-headed, and Harry will be defensive and offensive, quick to blame, and quite selfish. I'm not sure which extremes others will be brought to, but those are the main ones. Sorry for the misspellings. If you'd let me know what they are, I can fix them. Or if it doesn't really matter that is fine too. And…Harold will be his first name… for no reason. Well, you will be granted more Draco, but since you're such a consistent reader, and the first reviewer, you can still have a character if you'd like. -.)
