"Dying is a Delicate Moment"
A fanfic by Agara
"Kill me. Kill me if you ever loved me."
And he kills her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN : CRASH INTO ME
Song : Crash into Me by The Venice Connection
Bold + Italics : Flash back
13.11.1943 :
Breakfast had become simpler over time. Each meal had become easier, to be honest. The food didn't feel out of proportion anymore, the simple thought of eating her fill didn't seem selfish anymore. She almost enjoyed those moments.
Since Cole's birthday, three days prior, the atmosphere among the students has been friendly.
"Still can't believe you let Cole win," Edgard spoke up, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.
"For the last time Edgard, it was his birthday." Hermione sighed. "And close your mouth for God's sake."
Edmund snickered at Hermione's comment and went to pour himself another glass of pumpkin juice.
Hermione perked up as she heard the familiar rustle of the owls. The Great Hall suddenly went quiet and the entire student body rose their heads towards the ceiling. Each owl was carrying one newspaper. Hermione smiled as she saw her own owl approaching.
During the summer she had finally decided on getting herself one. She had seen the bird one afternoon while walking in the Quartier des Musiciens. It had looked so fragile and scared. Hermione had simply extended her hand and had waited for the little owl to approach. It had not only approached her but had directly jumped into her palm.
Kaulitz gracefully landed on the table and dropped the newspaper next to Hermione's plate. It cocked his little head, patiently waiting for Hermione to pet it. The witch happily complied.
"Get this owl out of the table." Dolohov growled not far from her. Hermione rose her head and simply kept petting the little animal while looking at Antonin. Isodor laughed at the scene.
The lads and herself finally opened the newspaper and began reading. At usual, the headline stated something about Tuft. Even though not all the students were interested in politics, they all kept with the news and read the daily journal.
Something happened. Hermione wondered if she was hallucinating for a moment or if the letters were indeed moving. She heard small gasps around the room and little whisperings. She looked around her, she saw Edgard in front of her, his mouth a little agape. Then, she turned her head to the left and noticed Tom, his brows furrowed and his hand firmly gripping at the newspaper.
She finally lowered her eyes onto the front page and read what seemed to be an incentive to insurrection.
More than six months have passed since the dreadful day when the British wizards, blinded by promises from foes at home and abroad, lost touch with honor and freedom, thereby losing all.
Since that 14th of April, when this political change has come and ruined Britain's great future. When Wilhelmina Tuft, the Almighty saviour of the underdogs, has begun withholding the truth.
She fraternized with them. She created an entire department for them, hiding it from you for months. Department of Transitional Relations and Social Groups Cohesion as she would like to call it. A conceited name to blind you from seeing what it truly is : a way to involve the British Wizards to fight in this Second Muggle World War.
She is willing to sacrifice you for them. She wants to involve you in their war, make you their secret weapon for you will serve as cannon fodder.
Since the present government is incapable of making the right decision for its people, I ask you, the British Wizards to rise and to meet -
The newspaper vanished in her hands before she had the time to finish reading. Hermione quickly looked around her to get a glimpse of the rest but noticed that every newspaper had disappeared. Dippet, at the professor table, had his wand slightly risen, his eyes open wide and lips pursed into a thin line. The silence that followed was deafening. It only lasted for a minute before chaos came crashing back. Hermione couldn't even think with that much noise around her. She suddenly felt light-headed and a buzzing sound echoing in her brain.
She rose her head and looked at Abraxas. He was leaning towards Tom to talk to him and the latter was shaking his head no. Tom seemed distraught, he was still looking at where the newspaper was a couple of minutes prior as if he couldn't understand what just happened. He had not planned any of this.
What is going on ?
Hermione was still looking at Tom. She looked as he finally rose his head, his gaze still unfocused. Hermione knew him well enough now to know that he was only trying to sort everything out in his head. He could have looked scared if someone didn't know him. But he was far from scared, he was challenged.
"Silence !" Dippet voice echoed in the Great Hall. The student's voices lowered until nothing left could be heard. "Everyone resumes with their day, the perfects please escort the youngers to their first class."
13.11.1943:
Tom had avoided her gaze since breakfast ended. She had rushed past the students and had gone towards their DADA classroom. Dolohov had waited for him to talk, to say anything on the matter, however, Tom knew it was neither the time nor the place. As he finally entered the room he directly sat next to her, at the back. She startled a little and quickly ran away from his gaze.
"Did you finish reading it ?" He whispered.
"No. Did you ?"
Tom let a silence answer for him. Even though he didn't have the time to finish it, he'd imagine what the rest said. He wanted to tell her that she had just lost them their advantage. He had thousands though crossing through his mind but internally knew it was not the right moment to say.
The door behind them violently shut and someone walked towards the desk.
Tom remembered something. Today was their first day with Atticus Aldritch as their new professor. The auror put his dragon leather satchel on his desk and turned around to face the students. He was younger than Tom had imagined him to be. He had pictured an old man, more focused on politics than his auror job. However, he could not have been older than forty-five. Atticus had a light stubble on his cheeks as if he hadn't had the time to shave before coming today.
"Good morning everyone." He finally said. "First, I would like to apologize for not being able to teach since the beginning of the year. I can imagine Headmaster Dippet had told you about a previous engagement I had. I have talked with Professor Dumbledore about what you have begun to learn since school started. I must say I am really impressed, you have covered a lot of material. And knowing Dumbledore, I am sure you are all up to speed concerning DADA." He let out a small laugh.
Tom rolled his eyes. He really tried not to, but the fondness in his new teacher's voice about Dumbledore couldn't infuriate him more. Atticus sat on his desk and looked at the students in silence for a moment.
"I know you're all focused on what happened this morning. I want to make sure you all know this is just slander. None of what was written in this letter was true. I work closely with the government and believe me when I say that this was only lies. We are taking care of him."
"How would you even do that ?"
Tom turned his head towards where the question came from. Grace was looking at the teacher, her brows a little furrowed. The other students also turned around to face her, they were all baring pity in their eyes. Atticus shifted on the desk and looked at her.
"What do you mean Miss. Hortense ?" He calmly answered. Tom noticed he knew her last name.
"How do you plan on getting rid of Grindelwald sir ?"
Tom grabbed her wrist underneath the table and tightened his grip as a warning. She gulped but kept her gaze away from him. At the front of the room, Atticus Aldritch chuckled at the awkwardness of the situation.
"Even if I do appreciate your concern Miss Hortense and find it entirely legitimate, I don't think a DADA class is the right place to debate about politics. However, I'd gladly talk further about that with you after class if you're available."
Before Grace even opened her mouth to talk, Tom knew she would say something she ought not to. He knew her temper and it was explosive. That is why he tightened his grip even more as a silent "don't start". She simply nodded, silently agreeing to meet him after this class. Atticus shot her a last glance then went behind the desk to retrieve the register.
"Are you done ?" Tom whispered. Grace finally met his gaze and smirked. She smirked and Tom was fed up with her. She smirked and Tom let go of her hand.
"I was planning on following what Albus had started, but given the situation, I think we could all benefit from something a little bit cheering. What have you heard about patronuses ?" Atticus started.
"There are two types of patronuses." Milton answered. "The corporeal and incorporeal. The patronus charm is the primary protection against dementors and lethifolds."
"Good, Mister... ?"
"Mulciber."
"Mulciber ? As in Denniston Mulciber ?" Milton shyly nodded. "Brilliant chap, would you mind giving him my regards ?"
Milton shrunk. He literally lost two inches in the last sentence. He looked away and nodded again, shame rising in his cheeks. Tom almost felt pity for the small boy at this moment. Even when he was doing things right, Milton Mulciber was always brought back to his brother, the successful, intelligent, charismatic brother. How could Milton even compare to that ?
Atticus didn't even look at the boy as he said the last sentence, he simply began walking around the classroom, his gaze floating from one student to another. He seemed relaxed and in his element. "Does anyone know the incantation ?"
Tom rapidly rose his hand. Atticus nodded his head to allow him to speak.
"Tom Riddle, sir." Tom firstly introduced himself. "The incantation is Expecto Patronum with a circular hand movement."
"Good mister Riddle, 10 points to Slytherin."
The teacher stopped in front of his desk and put out his wand.
"I would like everyone to know that the patronus charm is one of the hardest spells. Not everyone in this classroom will be able to produce a corporeal one."
With a simple hand motion, a grey mist escaped his wand. The latter quickly materialised into an impala, galloping around the classroom. Gasps of wonder resounded around the room. At this moment, Tom acknowledged the appeal of this spell, it surely was one of the most impressive in terms of visual. However, he was not feeling as excited as the other students.
"Does anyone know how I produced it ?" The teacher asked.
The students were all to focus on the patronus to even think about an answer. Except one.
"With a happy thought." Grace said.
Tom frowned at her answer. Her voice was flat, not showing any emotion, however, her eyes betrayed something else. Tom was discreetly looking at her, at the way her lips were twitching when she finished answering.
"Very good Miss Hortense." Aldritch grinned at her. "I would like everyone to think about what Miss Hortense just described. What happy thought would you use ?"
The rest of the lesson went by rapidly. Atticus Aldritch was a good teacher, he was patient and understanding. He had this aura that made people like him. He let the students go without any homework and called for Grace to stay behind. Tom had planned on waiting for her outside the room, he couldn't be left in the dark. He couldn't bear it.
"Tom." Dolohov was waiting for him a little down the corridor, his satchel hanging from his left shoulder. "You don't even know how long it's going to take."
The prefect simply picked up his bag from the ground and followed Antonin to their next class.
She arrived thirty minutes after their history of magic class began. She dropped a letter on Mister Binns' desk and looked around the room for a place to sit. Belone had put her bag on the chair next to her for Grace. Tom was looking at her, looking for something that would tell him what happened in those thirty minutes with Atticus Aldritch. The only thing Grace let on before sitting next to her friend, was a wicked grin.
13.11.1943 :
Milton shut the door and joined the others around the table. All eyes were on Tom, casually leaning in his chair, at the end of the table. He had his right ankle on his left knee, both of his elbows on the armrest and he was playing with his ring.
"Go ahead. Say your piece." He ordered the lads. The others stayed silent for a second before Thorus rose and put both of his hands on the wooden table.
"Grindelwald got ahead of us. We all know he was the one who wrote the article this morning. He took our advantage away." Nott said. "We could have used this information as leverage I guess, or in a thousand other ways. But, we finally have more information about what this new department is."
Edgard was vehemently nodding his head as his friend talked, obviously agreeing with everything Thorus had just said. "I don't believe Grindelwald gave us the real purpose of this department though." Lestrange finally spoke up as Thorus sat back down. "Tuft may be a mudblood and muggle lover, but she is not stupid."
Hermione tried not to flinch at the insult. Edgard had spat the word as if it was the most disgusting thing in the world.
"What would the department be for then ?" Milton shyly asked.
"What about something about blood status ? She wants fucking cohesion apparently. She wants everyone to be equal and shit. She wants to strip us from our privileges." Edmund said.
"You mean between pureblood, half-blood, and mudblood ?" Milton asked.
"I think it's a possibility. She's maybe setting up an entire department to get rid of what we are and represent."
It was not Hermione's first meeting with the lads. She had heard several conversations and heated arguments. However, she had never witnessed a crisis centre like this one. They were scared of losing their heritage, they were blaming everyone, trying to find a way out.
"Could it be about races ? Between wizards, goblins, centaurs, and all the others ?" Abraxas suggested.
"Not possible." Isodor supplied. "I talked to Belone during lunch. As you know, her father is head of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and he had not heard anything about that."
Hermione cleared her throat and waited for the lads to all look at her.
"Grindelwald may have lied about the purpose of the department." Hermione began. "But I am entirely convinced that he has hidden the truth behind the words. In order to manipulate the truth, you need to have it first, you need to add several layers of lies on top of what is real. And what is persistent in the article ? The muggles. I think Tuft wants to create a department between the Magical World and the Muggle World."
"We already have that." Dolohov said in a condescending tone.
"Actually, we don't, Dolohov," Hermione replied in the same tone, "we have two ministers, one muggle and one magic, talking to each other once in a decade. I don't call that a department."
Dolohov's eyes became darker at Hermione's sentence and he closed his fists on the table.
"How about you do what is asked of you Hortense, before giving your two cents on this matter ?" He spat. "We're still waiting for your input on the pictures. Thanks to you, we lost our advantage today. If you had simply done what was asked of you, we wouldn't be here."
Hermione snorted at that. "And what would you have done with the information I would have given ? You would have stormed into the ministry, a picture in hand ?"
"At least, we would have a name." Abraxas defended his friend. "We would be able to do something about Avery's father."
The other lads chipped in, all of them giving their thoughts about the situation, about the fact that Hermione had not been able to recognize anyone in the pictures she had been given.
"Enough !"
They all startled at the sound and turned toward the voice. They had all almost forgotten Tom's presence in the room, he had been so quiet since the beginning of the meeting. He violently put his two hands on the table and rose from his seat. Tom slowly leaned above the table. The light from the chimney cast a somber shadow on his face. The scar he had gotten the day of the battle almost a year ago stood out even more and gave him an eerie look.
"Even in a time of crisis, you cannot go beyond your childish quarrels." Tom said. "What happened today only reminds us that we are not the only one working on Tuft's downfall. However, we are the only ones with pure ambition. The fact that we are all gathered on this day only proves that we are more than just students, we are the future of this nation. None of us is too proud, none of us too high, none is too rich, and none too poor, to stand together against an unfair executive."
Tom looked at them, each one of them before his eyes laid on her. Hermione didn't know what to think at this moment. She felt as if she was witnessing the birth of something bigger.
"All around us, the warning signs of a collapse are apparent." Tom continued. "This new department, the cabinet reshuffle, and more changes to come are her way of bringing us down. Her only ambition is to make a powerful and insidious attack on you. You, the future of our nation. You, the embodiment of what she despises : the true power you hold, the true tradition you want to keep alive. She wants to shatter everything you stand for and I will not let her."
Hermione couldn't tear her gaze away from him, she couldn't help but stay frozen on her chair. Tom's rhetoric was not only innate but also well thought out. He knew exactly what to say to capture their attention, he knew exactly what word to use to make them feel a part of his plan, he knew exactly what he was doing.
What happened before her eyes, was something she had never seen before. Tom was not a sixth-year prefect at this moment, he was a ruler. He was transcendent and it was beautiful.
"Today, as Thorus has said, we have missed an opportunity. We indeed had leverage with this information and it is not ours to share no more. We will not let this happen ever again. I will not let this happen ever again." Tom punctuated his last sentence for the lads and Hermione to understand the gravity of the situation.
The atmosphere shifted in the room. Hermione felt it. The seven lads were all nodding solemnly.
"Malfoy," Tom said, "use this newfound friendship with Lovegood to find out how Grindelwald infiltrated the Daily Prophet and get me a copy of the article in its entirety." The prefect looked at Edmund. "Rosier, find everything you can on undersecretary Rockwood from your father, we might need him. Dolohov, talk with Diggory and see if he would be willing to talk about his father's job and give you some intel. Lestrange, contact everyone you know within the ministry and give me a detailed report on the consequences of Grindelwald's article within the government." Tom stopped talking for a moment and looked at the chimney. "Nott, Mulciber, I need you to find out how the government will publicly respond to this. Avery, keep me posted about your father's job situation. If anything changes, I want to be informed. Was I clear ?"
The seven lads nodded their heads and Hermione was stunned. Tom had given his instruction at an impressive speed as if his mind had worked out everything perfectly. All the lads had simply nodded, not even asking why they should do what had been ordered. They simply accepted Tom's orders. Tom nodded for the lads to leave the room. Hermione also got up but he stopped her.
"You," Tom said. "sit."
The seven other boys looked at her in silence before leaving the room. Hermione gulped and slowly sat back down. She felt scared at this moment, she had just heard Tom's speech and she had finally understood what being in his ranks meant. She felt the beginning of a headache. Tom was looking at her, simply looking. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes. None of them were talking, only staring.
"I do not care how you will find Avery's future replacement, I do not care which means you will use to find him, pictures, intel, blackmail, thievery, I do not want to know, but you will find him. And once you find him, you will crush him, make him ineligible." He said. His voice was low and threatening. "Am I clear ?"
"Are you expecting me to simply nod ?"
Tom slowly tilted his head and smirked. He could have looked angry if someone didn't know him. But he was far from it, he was challenged and he liked it.
They were still looking at each other and Hermione heard loud and clear what Tom was silently asking her.
"Do you want to know what I thought about it ?" She finally asked him. They were both aware she was not talking about the Grindelwald situation nor the lads. They were both aware she was talking about Tom's speech. He didn't answer and she interpreted this silence as an approbation.
"Do you think they'll go as far as you're willing to go ?"
OoOoOo
16.11.1943 :
It had been a quiet night, the Great Hall had been relatively empty. Hermione was finishing her dinner with Thorus. It had been a long time since she had spent some alone time with him. Even though what happened a year ago with him, Hermione genuinely liked him. Thorus had a sharp mind and an impressive moral sense - considering the situation. She quickly looked around the room and saw Abraxas from afar, near the Ravenclaw table. He was talking to Romanolus Lovegood, just as Tom had ordered him a few days earlier. At the sight, Hermione remembered the conversation she had with Pollux during the team making for Cole's birthday. She had suggested putting the Ravenclaw in the same team as the Malfoy heir as she knew his father worked at the Daily Prophet.
Hermione then turned her head towards the entrance and saw Cole leaning against the door, in the middle of a conversation with Gemma Montague. She quickly wondered what they could be talking about before Thorus spoke up. "Well, I still have the runes essay to finish for tomorrow." The slytherin he rose from his seat. He shot her a small smile and left the dining hall. Hermione smiled back and went back to finishing her yogurt.
She heard loud steps coming her way and lifted her head to come face to face with a grinning Pollux. He put his right foot on the bench, his right arm on his knee. Hermione caught a glimpse of the childish watch she had offered him for his birthday.
"Follow me." He said. He was panting as if he had run down here.
"I'm eating Pollux."
"No Grace. I have something amazing to show you. Follow me."
Pollux began bouncing from excitement. His cheeks were a little flushed and he was still trying to catch his breath.
"May I finish my yogurt at least ?" Hermione asked him.
"No, you may not."
Pollux climbed above the table to be on the same side as her and gently grabbed her arm to put her up. "You're gonna be amazed kiddo. I know it."
Without saying anything else, Hermione was following Pollux through Hogwarts' corridors. He was still grinning ears to ears and Hermione's heart clenched at the sight. She couldn't help herself but smile too. Pollux stopped in front of a classroom and dramatically opened the door. Hermione expected something special in the room. In the year of knowing Pollux, Hermione had come to always expect something spectacular from her friend. He was spontaneous, surprising. Yet, Hermione found herself in an empty classroom.
"I really am amazed, Pollux." She smugly said. He hushed her and went to stand in the middle of the room. He mimed for her to stay silent and slowly rose his wand.
Hermione rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms, a small smile on her lips. Pollux exhaled loudly, closed his eyes, smiled, and spoke up. "Expecto patronum."
The grey mist escaping his wand slowly turned into a gracious fox. Hermione could only look at the animal parading around the round, jumping around. A grin slowly grew on her lips and an honest laugh escaped from them. Pollux directed his wand at her and the fox approached running. It turned around her, silently playing with Hermione. And she did too. She followed the patronus' movement and laughed at the visual representation of Pollux' soul. Because that is what it was : the bare soul of her friend welcoming her.
"You did it !" Hermione almost screamed from joy.
"Aren't you amazed now ?" Pollux replied. Hermione kept laughing and Pollux followed suit.
"So this is why I haven't seen you in days, Mister Parkinson." Hermione took a few steps towards her friend.
"Even more amazed, aren't you ?" Pollux grinned. "I don't think I've ever worked that hard on something before. I've come here every night for the last three weeks and practiced." Pollux was jumping around, excitement still running in his vein. "The hardest part was the memory. Which one ? Which one is powerful enough ?"
Hermione was simply looking at him. Pollux was rambling, the smile he had on his face and the sound of it in his voice brought warmth to Hermione's entire body.
"Then, I found it." Pollux kept talking. He finally stopped and faced her. Hermione was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to tell her the memory. "It's silly." Pollux shyly said.
He lowered his head and looked at his feet as if embarrassed. Hermione gently nudged him in the ribs and felt relieved as she heard a small laugh escape his lips. Pollux finally rose his head and gently smiled.
"I was ten if I remember correctly and he must have been eight." Pollux began explaining. "I don't even remember what we did but our parents were furious. They called us in the kitchen and began lecturing us. Then, I looked at him. He was maybe two inches smaller than me. And he looked back. And it was over. We just burst out laughing and we didn't stop. Cass was crying from laughter - it's the only time I ever saw him this way. My entire body was aching from laughing too."
As Pollux explained the memory, his gaze was stuck on something behind her in the room. The genuine smile he had a couple of minutes prior gave way to sadness. When he was done talking, he slowly shook his head and looked at her. "Silly you see." He gulped.
"It isn't." Hermione softly replied. "Actually, it's far from it. It's beautiful."
"I don't understand how this one works though. I mean, it's tarnished, isn't it ? I haven't spoken to my brother in weeks, I haven't had a smile directed at me in months and I haven't heard him laugh with me in years. It shouldn't work. It's not a happy memory. It's a melancholic one."
"We all have a different definition of what happiness is." Hermione said. "It could be something simple, something you didn't even think could be sorted as happy memory but the context around the memory makes it unique, special, positive. One could think of the feeling they got when chosen by their wand. One could think of their friends winning the quidditch cup. One could think of mundane moments with loved ones, laughing at something they don't even remember."
She stopped talking and considered telling Pollux hers.
Considered telling him about that night during their seventh-year, when they were on the run. Considered telling him that Ron had just left and they were scared. Considered telling him that at this moment she thought they would not make it, they would never find them. Considered telling him that they had stopped talking with Harry, they were in the same tent yet miles away. Considered telling him how lonely she felt. Considered telling him that they let the radio make the conversation for them. Considered telling him that on this night, the radio was playing a little bit louder than usual, and Harry had stretched out his hand in a silent plea. Considered telling him that she took it and that they danced, they laughed and they forgot where they were. Hermione really considered telling Pollux that during three little minutes, the world stopped and she had felt like being able to breathe for the first time in months.
Yet she didn't. It was hers and Harry's only.
OoOoOo
18.11.1943 :
The common room was fully packed on this November night. However, it was completely silent. Only the small sounds of the chimney broke this perfect studious atmosphere from time to time. Hermione was sitting on the floor, near the coffee table, and was skimming through a small pile of newspapers and other documents. The last meeting with the lads had brought her back to her task : finding Avery's replacement. Hermione had settled on looking through every piece of news available, hoping to find what she was looking for.
Not far from her, was Tom. Sat on the leather couch, reading - or pretending to read as his gaze was going back and forth between his reading material and Hermione. She knew for sure that he was not reading The Republic by Plato, she had seen him charm another book to look like this one.
"Hey," she heard a small whisper behind her. Hermione quickly turned around and saw Cole standing behind the couch. "I need your help." Cole's eyes were on the common room's door and Hermione didn't fully understand what this entire situation was about. Before answering Cole, she briefly looked at Tom. He had this look on his face.
"I'm quite busy now Cole. Later though ?" Hermione finally answered.
"I really need your help Grace." Hermione was still looking through the newspapers too focused to do anything else. "I can't right now Cole."
"Fancy a bite ?" He said in a tight voice. At the words, Hermione's head snapped up and saw the look on her friend's face. She exhaled, closed her newspaper, and followed him out of the room.
Not again.
Pollux was slouched against the wall, his eyes almost completely closed. He reeked of alcohol and what seemed to be his own sick.
"Oh for fuck sakes." Cole exhaled and cast a scourgify on his friend.
They knew the deal by now. They knew exactly what they had to do. Cole went by Pollux's left side and Hermione's by his right. They both put one of Pollux's arms around their shoulders and they slowly walked towards the kitchen.
"Kiddo." Pollux finally slurred. "we we-were waiting fo-for you."
"You know the deal Pollux," Cole whispered, "you stay quiet until we arrive in the kitchen, alright ?"
"You t-take such g-good care of me Cole." Pollux's voice was shy and pathetic. "I do-don't deserve you."
Hermione gently shushed him and looked at Cole. They didn't talk, but their expressions were meaningful. Cole tickled the pear and the three of them entered the kitchen. A small elf appeared in front of them.
"Master Woodcroft," the elf smiled, "what can I help you with ?"
"Good evening Zippy, would you be so kind as to make us sandwiches ? And some tea, maybe ?"
The elf quickly complied as Hermione and Cole gently put Pollux in the chair at the end of the table. Hermione sat at his right and Cole in front of her.
"What went through your mind to go to Abe's on a Thursday night ?" Hermione harshly whispered to Cole.
"I didn't want to go ! But you know as well as I do, he can't go to Hogsmeade alone !" Cole replied in the same tone.
"You could have stopped him from going to Hogsmeade. It's that simple Cole." Hermione knew it wasn't true, but seeing Pollux that way made her irrationally mad. Cole was about to shout back when the elf interrupted them and put a plate of sandwiches and cups of tea on the table. Pollux's eyes slowly opened at the smell and took a large bite of the sandwich. Hermione's face softened at the sight and exhaled before turning her gaze towards Cole again.
"I'm sorry." She said. "I shouldn't lash out at you."
Cole was massaging his eyes, apparently also fed up by the entire situation. Hermione wanted to smooth the frown he had between his eyebrows.
'I really try, you know." Cole replied in a hoarse voice, "I promise you, I try- it's hard but I truly do -"
"I know you do, and I see you do it too, Cole. Don't be too harsh on yourself, none of this is your fault."
"How can it not be my fault ?" Cole finally looked at her, his eyes a little glassy, and quickly averted his gaze to watch his best friend eat. The way Cole said it left Hermione wondering what was the underlying message. He seemed too guilty to simply have meant having a drink with Pollux on a Thursday night. Hermione knew that whatever she would say, Cole wouldn't believe her, so she simply took his hand and squeezed it lightly. She saw a small smile drawing on his lips.
An easy silence followed. Pollux had finished eating one sandwich and two cups of tea before slouching on the table and closing his eyes.
"Hey hey Pollux. Don't fall asleep here, you'll be way better in your bed, won't you ?" Cole talked to the drunken Slytherin in a soft voice.
Hermione didn't feel like coming back to the common room at this moment. She knew what was waiting for her back there, more pictures and pointless articles. Plus, she had always enjoyed spending time with Cole. And finally, Pollux was already asleep - sleeping another thirty minutes in this position would not hurt him more. She quickly looked around her and settled on something to say to linger in the kitchen.
"Have you eaten tonight, Cole ?" Hermione asked him. Cole turned in his chair to face her and realised the implication in the question. She slightly pushed the sandwiched plate towards him and shot him a soft smile to encourage him to eat. He nodded his head and let out a small laugh.
Pollux was soundly asleep next to her, his mouth agape. She gently stroked his hair.
"Let me guess," she said, "Cassandre ?"
"What else ?"
Cole quickly looked at Pollux. Hermione saw something in Cole's eyes as he watched his best friend sleep : pity ? sadness ? Cole began fidgeting on his chair and stared at his hands as if he was internally debating on speaking up or not.
"What has he told you ?" He finally asked her.
"Not so much. Bits by bits. They are from a pureblood family, meaning the heir is more important than the other child. At a certain age, Haurus Parkinson must have done or said something that created the existing cleavage between the two. Yet, I don't really understand why Cassandre is this jealous of Pollux ? He's clearly gonna do well in life. He's top of his class, prefect, likely to be Headboy. He doesn't need to be the heir to succeed."
Cole only nodded but it felt off. Hermione cocked her head and stared at him. "What are you not telling me ?" She added.
"Nothing." Cole quickly answered.
"Cole, tell me."
Cole looked at her and Hermione shivered at the sight. His eyes were dark and pleading her not to push the subject. She almost felt scared to ask but couldn't help herself. "What has he done that it's too much for you to tell me ?"
"He was drunk. I'm sure he wasn't even aware of half the things coming out of his mouth." Cole defended his friend before even telling her what happened.
"Cole, what happened ?" Hermione pressed.
"Cassandre was the one helping me sober up Pollux at the time. At the time, it was not that frequent and it was even funny at the beginning - we made fun of Pollux, teasing him about him being a lightweight. Of course, we didn't realise back then the amount of alcohol he was drinking." Cole stopped for a moment and looked at Pollux. "New years eve 1940, the Parkinson held a party at their house. Around 2AM Pollux was completely pissed and Cassandre helped me get him to his room."
Cole opened his mouth a couple of times, obviously trying to find the perfect formulation for what he was about to say.
"I was waiting outside his room, keeping watch just in case. I heard Cassandre pleading with Pollux to sleep and drink some water. And Pollux, he.. well he lashed out. I mean when you're drunk sometimes you say things who don't necessarily mean."
"What did he say Cole ? What did Pollux say ?"
"He told Cassandre that he was a nobody, that the only thing he was good at was to look after Pollux, as he was the one that really matters. That he would never be a prefect, never be top of his class, never be headboy." Cole let out a sad laugh as he said that. "He said that no one would ever choose Cassandre over him."
Hermione's hand stopped stroking Pollux hair and she carefully withdrew it. "He didn't mean it, right ?"
"Of course he didn't. He couldn't even remember anything the next morning. He still doesn't know."
"You didn't tell him ?"
Cole averted his eyes and gulped.
"Why ?" Hermione asked. "He's fucking himself up not knowing exactly when everything went south with Cassandre. You can tell him and you're fucking keeping that to yourself."
"You weren't there Grace. You didn't hear Pollux, you didn't see Cassandre's face. You don't know." Cole put his head in his hand and exhaled. "I can't tell him now, three years after. What would I even say ? I fucked up, I know. But you should have seen Pollux's face when he noticed that Cassandre wouldn't even look at him. I couldn't tell him that everything was his fault."
"Hey, hey." Hermione said in a soothing voice. She took hold of his wrists and put them back on the table before taking his hands. Cole looked at her and Hermione smiled.
"If I have to stand by his side while he gets drunk, drag him back to the castle, feed him, cast scourgify on him, and put him to bed to make sure he's not alone. I'll do it. Over and over again." He said.
Hermione rose up and pulled at Cole's hands for him to stand up, too.
"You know what ?" She smiled. "Let's do something." Hermione quickly looked around her then grinned. "Have you ever cooked before Mister Woodcroft ?"
"I've boiled an egg once." He smugly answered. Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. She pulled him towards the stove and began thinking about what they could cook.
"How about cannelés ?" She suggested. "Grab the flour and sugar." She ordered Cole as she went to fetch milk and eggs.
They began baking, Hermione showing Cole the right motions and laughing when he messed up. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did with him. Hermione felt almost shy at this moment, blushing from time to time when Cole gently teased her. Everything Cole did towards her was basked in softness, something Hermione had not felt in a long time.
They talked about classes and Cole told her the funniest anecdote about what happened in Binns' class with Paul Diggory. They talked about what Cole wanted to do next year and joked about the fact that he hated Quidditch to his father's dismay. They talked about Gemma too, that they both realized they were not what they were looking for in a relationship. That Cole preferred someone more poised and that Gemma would rather date someone older. Hermione told him about her visit to Abe's the week before and what she was planning to get him for Christmas. She also spoke her mind about what she thought of Divination and Cole couldn't agree more. Finally, she told him about Draco Malfoy - without using his name.
"... I swear it's true !" Hermione laughed.
"You punched a guy ?" Cole grinned.
"I not only punched a guy, I broke his nose."
Cole leaned against the counter, a cannelé in hand, and looked at her. His laughter echoed in the kitchen.
"I need to see you punch a guy now Grace."
"I'm sure next time will happen soon enough." Hermione half-joked as she mimicked punching someone. Cole stopped her fist mid-air and turned it to have her palm facing up.
"That's how you break your thumb." He softly smiled. "If you want to punch someone, at least do it without hurting yourself."
Hermione positioned herself in front of Cole, putting her thumb out of her fist and bounced a little on her feet. "Like that ?" She smiled.
Cole pushed himself off the counter to stand in front of her. "Give me everything you've got."
Hermione weakly punched him as they both laughed out loud.
"That's all you've got ?" Cole teased her, an eyebrow cocked. They both froze for a second before he grabbed her by the waist to prevent her from punching him further. Hermione's laughter died the second the kitchen's doors opened.
18.11.1943 :
Tom was about to get back from his round when he heard some noise down the corridor. He quickly looked around him before heading toward the sounds. He saw from afar the entry to the kitchens and remembered Cole asking Grace about eating something. He tickled the pear and entered the room, finding himself transfixed on the spot at the sight before his eyes. Cole was carefully lowering Grace back onto the floor, they were both flushed and grinning while Pollux snored, slumped on the kitchen table.
"Tom !" Cole smiled at him. His demeanour was the polar opposite of Grace's at this moment. Cole was all smiley and friendly whereas Grace was embarrassed and wary. Tom didn't know what to make of this situation so he said the only thing running through his mind.
"What is wrong with Parkinson ?"
"He's a little sick, nothing to worry about." Cole quickly said, approaching his friend. "He's simply asleep."
His eyes flickered to Grace. She appeared flustered and ready to get out of this situation as soon as possible. Her eyes met his.
"I thought you would be working." Tom coldly told her. Grace squinted her eyes.
"I'm sure she can work tomorrow." Cole tried to joke to defuse the new tension. "We better head back to the common room, it's-"
"You should bring Pollux back to your dorm, Cole." Grace told her friend, without averting her gaze away from Tom for a second. Cole looked at her and quickly understood that something was up.
"Are you alright ?" He finally asked her. Grace finally tore his gaze away and looked right at him.
"I'm fine, Cole." She fake smiled. "It'll not take long."
"I'd rather walk you back." Cole insisted.
"She said she was fine." Tom spoke up. Cole faced Tom and frowned. He took a step forward, almost ready to snap back but Grace took him by the hand to prevent him from doing so. She settled between the two and faced Cole.
"Everything's fine." She softly told him. "I'll see you tomorrow. Breakfast ?"
Tom shouldn't be surprised by Grace's attitude towards Cole. He had seen the way she talked to him, the softness, and easiness in their relationship. However, this time he didn't like it.
Cole nodded at her and pulled Pollux up to leave the room. As they both walked out, Cole shot an icy look at Tom.
"Was that necessary ?" She scolded. Grace crossed her arms upon her chest and stood straighter. As she sensed Tom wasn't about to answer, she kept going. "I've told you I was working on it. And you even told me you didn't care how I managed to complete the task."
"It sure looks like you are going to complete the task."
"What is wrong with you ?" She put her hands in her hair in exasperation.
Tom was simply angry. Only because Cole was ruining everything he had planned for and worked towards. How could he control Grace by flirting with her if she was already flirting with someone else ? It didn't sit well with Tom. He was convinced it was the only reason. The only reason why every time he saw Cole recently, something churned inside of him. And the only reason why when he saw Cole and Grace this evening, he was mad.
Cole is going to fuck all of my plans, Grace.
I cannot let him do that, right ?
That is what is wrong with me.
"I'm leaving." Grace finally said. "I'm outta here. When you'll stop being petty, we'll talk again." She walked past him to reach the door. Tom snorted at her sentence.
"He only wants to get into your pants." He blurted out. She stopped in her tracks and Tom turned around to look at her. "He is only playing you, you know."
"You're the one to talk."
She violently shut the door behind her and Tom was left alone in the kitchens.
Why did I fucking say that ?
OoOoOo
20.11.1943 :
Tom's stomach rumbled. He had not eaten anything more than an apple all day and he began to feel frail from hunger. He closed his book loudly and the sound echoed inside the large library. Dolohov, sitting in front of him, looked up. Tom only had to pick up his books for the other boy was already up and ready to leave. The walk to the Great Hall was silent and Tom appreciated that Dolohov didn't feel the need to talk.
Like every time he heard her voice - even though they weren't talking for two days now - Tom became alert. In the last couple of months, his attention had been slowly drifting towards Grace to the point of when she was near, he couldn't focus on anything else. He watched as she appeared around the corner, along Thorus and Silas.
They must have studied Runes together.
Nott was in the middle, laughing at something Silas had just said. Grace was silently nodding her head, a grin on her face. They seemed to get along quite well.
The five students almost got inside the Great Hall at the same time. As Silas parted ways with his two friends, Dolohov and Tom sat at their usual spot at the Slytherin table, joining the rest of the lads. Grace settled on sitting in front of Abraxas.
The atmosphere during the meals had settled back down since Grindelwald's article a couple a days before. At least, outside Tom's inner circle. He had some good feedback from Malfoy and Antonin. The latter had succeeded in getting closer to Diggory and building trust.
"Can I read it ?" She asked, her eyes pointing at the newspaper Malfoy was currently reading. "I was late this morning for breakfast and hadn't got the time to read it all day."
The blond silently gave it to her before turning back to eating his food. Grace's eyes skimmed through the content then froze at the bottom of the second page. For a good ten seconds, she didn't move, her eyes didn't tear away from the journal. Something was up. Something was wrong.
Grace finally closed the Daily Prophet, shot a small glance at the professor table, and left abruptly the room, the newspaper under her arm. Tom's eyes followed her every moment, from the moment she closed it to the way she frantically put it underneath her left arm. Without any second thoughts, he followed her out of the room, barely noticing that Dolohov must have been intrigued as well and was only a couple of steps behind. Grace's steps were resonating through the deserted hallways, Tom could see her from afar climbing the stairs. She stopped on the third floor and entered Dumbledore's office without even knocking.
Tom turned around and finally noticed Dolohov's presence. He put a finger on his mouth and they slowly approached the half-open door, making sure of staying out of sight.
"Miss Hortense ?" Dumbledore seemed surprised to see Grace.
"Fifteen deaths in France." The other replied. Tom heard the sound of what could be the newspaper being violently thrown on top of Dumbledore's desk. "Twenty-three in Bulgaria. and seven in Italy." Grace kept enumerating. "And it's only today's newspapers. He isn't going to stop. You and I both know it. He's gonna keep going while no one stops him. You've seen what he wrote in the Daily Prophet ! He is calling for a national insurrection. It's gonna be a bloodbath !"
"You are right Miss Hortense." Dumbledore calmly said. "It is only today's newspapers. So why haven't you come to see me before ?"
Tom understood that the conversation was way more important than what he had thought at the beginning. This was the kind of conversation that no one other than the two participants was supposed to hear. From this moment on, Tom knew he would not fully understand the conversation taking place in front of his eyes for it was filled with underlying messages. Tom needed to see the scene. He slightly craned his neck forward to look inside the room. Dumbledore was still sitting at his desk and the small light of the candles cast odd shadows on his face. In front of him stood Grace, both of her palms lying flat on the wooden desk.
"You've lived many months in a war zone, Miss Hortense, you've seen things that a woman your age shouldn't see. You've learnt to see enemies everywhere and that's why you are here tonight. But you have a bright mind, you should realise that I am not the enemy here."
"If you're not the enemy, you are under no circumstances the ally." Grace said.
"And who are your allies then ?" Dumbledore asked her. "Your fellow classmates ?"
Your fellow classmates ?
Are you talking about us, old man ?
Grace snorted at Dumbledore. "You are one to talk about the company I keep when we both know who you-"
The transfiguration teacher jumped from his seat and slammed both of his hands on the desk. Grace startled and took a step back. Tom quickly looked at Dolohov and saw the other Sythering as shocked as he was. They had never seen Dumbledore lose his composure, he was almost frightening. Even though Grace was probably scared, she didn't show it. She held his gaze, jutting her chin even more.
'Enough !" Dumbledore growled. "I don't allow you to make these kinds of assumptions about me."
"I didn't allow you to rummage inside my head. Yet, here we are." She snapped back.
The silence following Grace's declaration brought a heavy tension upon the four people present. Dumbledore was still towering over her and Grace had not dropped her gaze since the beginning of the altercation.
"We are both aware that war calls for harsh decisions. I have made this one and I am still not sure if I regret it or not." Dumbledore's voice went from outraged to calm in a matter of seconds. Tom didn't quite understand what Dumbledore meant in his last sentence.
"We are both aw-" Grace started but Peeves hurtled in the corridor and cut short the conversation.
Tom grabbed Dolohov by the shoulders and hurried them down the stairs;
"What the fuck just happened ?" Antonin asked.
"I have no idea." Tom said.
Tom knew - at least thought he knew - what just happened. He had witnessed earlier in the year, in March, the beginning of an argument between the two.
"Legilimency is illegal" She shouted.
"Miss Hortense, listen…"
"No ! You listen to me. You've been inside my head for two months. You had no right."
The conversation had also been cut short at this moment, Tom still behind the closed door at the time had suspected the use of a Silencio. So, Tom knew Dumbledore had used legilimency on Grace but he had never thought this through. But now Tom was really thinking about it and was starting to realise the impact it could have on him.
Fuck.
OoOoOo
22.11.1943 :
Most of the lads were lying on their beds, except for Abraxas and Thorus, playing exploding snaps on the floor of the dorm and Isodor reading a book not far. Tom was absently turning the page of The Dark Force : A Guide to Self-Protection, too focused on his thought to assiduously pay attention to the manual.
"I don't think I can do it yet." Isodor spoke up. Tom rose his head and saw the boy lost in a thick book.
"It's not with this state of mind that you'll succeed." Abraxas snickered.
"By the way, have you seen Olive lately ? She's getting fit." Edmund interrupted.
"For you, everyone's fit." Edgard mocked. "But what's the deal with Grace and Cole ?"
"Yeah, I saw them yesterday. They looked pretty closed." Isodor snickered. Tom shoved the latter in the ribs with his foot. "Read your book Avery."
They hadn't talked in four days. Tom knew the lads were wondering what happened.
"She's fit after all." Edmund shrugged. He was lying flat on his stomach, re-reading the letter he was about to send his father about Rockwood.
"Once again, everyone is fit for you Rosier." Tom scolded. A silence settled in the room. All the lads didn't dare talk further about the subject, they knew something was wrong and they especially knew not to broach the subject with Tom.
"Anyway, I'm still waiting for the day Milton gets his first kiss." Antonin laughed. Milton reached for something to throw at his friend on the floor. He picked up a piece of paper, crumpled it, and tried to aim for Dolohov. However, the paper sadly landed on Tom's lap. The prefect took a good look at it.
"For Merlin's sale Mulciber, this is from Zabini." He reprimanded the small boy. He put the letter on his bedside table.
"I'm not going to succeed." Isodor whined. He closed his books and laid on the floor. Tom dropped his book on the latter's stomach. Isodor huffed and grabbed it.
"It helped me." Tom simply said. Isodor strangely looked at the book, The Republic by Plato. "It is charmed to look that way Avery. Read the content."
23.11.1943 :
Hermione knocked twice on the door after dinner and nervously waited for someone to open. She was clutching at the letter her DADA professor had sent her earlier in the day. The door opened in a small crack and Atticus Aldritch hastened to let her in.
The room was warm and welcoming, surrounded by thick bookshelves and a large chimney at the back. Two love seats were facing, a small coffee table filled with drinks separated the two. Someone was standing in front of one of the bookshelf, his back to her.
"Thank you for inviting me here tonight, professor." Hermione smiled.
"It's my pleasure Grace." He offered her a drink she politely declined. "Let me introduce you to my dear friend."
Atticus gently pushed her towards the man. "Stilton, this is the student I talked to you about. Grace Hortense."
As the man turned around, Hermione froze. That was him. The man she had tried to find in pictures for months now. The man she was supposed to take down. The man after Isodor's father's job.
"Miss Hortense." Stilton wickedly grinned extending his hand. "Stilton Oswald, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
"Likewise." Hermione answered uneasy and offered her hand. Oswald brought her hand to his lips, lingering more than necessary.
"Let's sit down." Aldritch offered. Hermione settled on one of the couches and Oswald sat in front of her.
"Let me tell you Grace, your pictures don't do you justice." Oswald smiled at her. Hermione knew that Stilton was an attractive man and he surely had his ways with women. He was slender, wearing a navy blue suit. His hair was styled back and he had a thin mustache just above his upper lip. He was undeniably attractive, however, Hermione had never been that uneasy regarding a compliment in her life. She could feel him shamelessly undressing her with his eyes. Aldritch finally sat next to her and she suddenly felt safer.
"So Grace, Stliton is the current English ambassador in France. I'm sure he can help you with your research." Atticus said.
Everything finally made sense as to why she couldn't find any article or picture of him in the newspapers. She was only looking in the British press, not the foreign one.
"Je suis à votre entière disposition Mademoiselle Hortense." Oswald spoke up in a perfect french.
The way he had said this sentence, the way he had emphasised his words made Hermione feel dirty. "I am at your disposal" he had said, however, Hermione had understood something else, something underlying. She awkwardly smiled and tried to discreetly lower her skirt on her knees. Stilton suddenly rose and went by the bar to pour two drinks. He came back to where Hermione was sitting and put the drink in her hands. She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her. "J'insiste."
"Let's toast." Oswald grinned, staring right at Hermione. She simply gulped.
OoOoOo
23.11.1943 :
Hermione had left a message for Tom to meet her on the bleachers. She was feeling hot and cold at the same time, pacing back and forth, feeling dirty from solely being in contact with Oswald. She put her coat closer around her body and kept looking around her to make sure no one was lurking. She was not feeling safe and she was secretly hoping for Tom to arrive quickly.
She finally heard footsteps and Hermione violently snapped her head up towards the stairs. Tom was slowly walking towards her, both of his hands in his trouser's front pocket. He had this smug expression on his face, the one she understood as his winning smile. Was he that full of himself to believe he had won their little argument ?
"You wanted to talk to me ?" He smugly said. Hermione forced herself not to roll her eyes at the tone. She wanted this to be over with, she only needed to take a shower and crawl into bed.
"Stilton Oswald. It's him." She told him.
"Pardon ?"
"Stilton Oswald is the one taking Avery's job. He is the current English ambassador in France."
"How do you know that ?" Tom leaned against the guardrail and frowned. He crossed his ankle and slightly cocked his head to look at her. The moonlight was soft on his face and even the scar - usually hardening his face - was giving him a gentle aura.
"I just met him." Hermione said, still slightly shaking from the said meeting. "He was there, gave me brandy ? I don't know, I've never tasted brandy before. Well, he forced it into my hand - I just took a sma-"
Tom cut her short by putting his hands on her shoulders and applied a small pressure. She rose her head to meet his gaze and saw his confused frown.
"Grace, focus. I cannot understand." Tom harshly pressed her. Hermione suddenly felt a heavy pain in her head and tried to ignore it.
"He's a close friend of Aldritch."
"You went to see him and Oswald was there ?" Tom interpreted as he leaned back against the guardrail, his hands falling at his side. "You are lucky Hortense." He snickered. "Never met someone that lucky before."
"Lucky ?" Hermione slowly repeated. "Do you really think I rely on luck ?" She squinted her eyes. "I did what I always do, Tom. I planned on Aldritch to tell me his name, never thought I would meet him though. Do you remember the first DADA class with Aldritch ?"
She waited for Tom to nod, which he did. "So you also remember when you almost ripped off my wrist underneath the table because I spoke back to him ? Was that luck or did I do it on purpose for him to ask me to stay after class ?" She almost let out a laugh. "We had a nice talk, he asked me about my expectation for my future career and I may have let out that I was interested in Magical Cooperation but that Avery senior was not that fond of me."
"You played him." Tom smirked.
"Of course I did, and it worked. He introduced me to the future Head of Magical Cooperation, Stilton Oswald."
"I am impressed, Grace." Tom acknowledged. Hermione smiled a little and tightened her coat even more. "What is wrong ?" He asked her, his brows furrowed and his eyes squinted.
"Nothing." She lied. She slowly closed her eyes as the headache intensified.
"Tell me."
The headache became almost unbearable. She suddenly stopped and froze.
"Get out of my head, Riddle."
23.11.1943 :
"Get out of my head, Riddle." Her voice was low and threatening. He was almost there, he could have felt it and suddenly he felt as if something pushed him out and he stumbled back. He had never succeeded in getting inside her head since he had begun in May. Yet, he had felt so close right now.
"Since when ?" She almost spat. "You're too good to have just started."
"May."
Grace looked lost, her gaze was unfocused as if she was trying to remember something.
"It was you. You tried to get inside my head in June. The day of Myrtle's death. You tried to get inside my head during transfiguration. I thought it was-"
"Dumbledore ? Yes, he was the one who gave me the idea actually." Tom finished her sentence. "He saw something in your mind back then and I was intrigued. I only had to learn to do it."
"Why the fuck now ? We're on the same side." Grace got angrier by the second.
"I need to know what Dumbledore could see. As you said, we are on the same side, and it means you witnessed things I do not need Dumbledore knowing about. If I can get inside and see, so can he." Tom explained as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Moreover, the lads' minds are quite boring."
Grace scoffed and took a step back. "Are you fucking kidding me ?" She almost yelled. Tom reconsidered his behaviour for a second. He had not thought this to be a big deal and he gave her quite the compliment in the end, her mind was surely far from boring. Yet, Grace was furiously pacing in front of him. Tom slowly realised he may have screwed up.
"Why are you so mad ? I did not even get inside." He said. She simply looked at him in disbelief. "I was simply intrigued. Intrigued to see what is inside your head, Grace."
"You want to see that bad what's inside my head ?" She took two steps forwards, almost breathing the same air as he was. "Let's see, shall we ?"
As she said those words, Tom felt it. The invitation to get inside. He simply closed his eyes and accepted it.
The first time he got into Thorus' mind, Tom was shocked to see every memory in perfect order. Almost compartmentalized in small boxes, ready to be taken apart. He had access to everything, he could choose what to open first, what to see, and in which order. His mind was clearly not the most entertaining, if not dull.
Isodor's mind, on the contrary, was the pure embodiment of a mess. It was like listening to several songs at the same time while watching five different movies. There were so many things, everywhere. Tom had no choice on what to look at. He saw the memories passing by and simply dove in.
This time though, he didn't get into her mind. No, she crashed into him.
It began with screams and spells coming from everywhere. Children crying and begging. Tom turned around and couldn't lay his eyes on anything, everything was bloodied and agonizing.
Then, he suddenly fell into ice-cold water, falling at full speed, feeling the pressure around his ears, and the beginning of tinnitus. He felt submerged by emotions and panicked from not understanding what was happening. His lung became hurting from the lack of oxygen. He kept falling further, into the darkness.
Then, he fell on the ground, apparently back to where he was before, in the middle of a battlefield. He still couldn't focus on anything even though he tried. He put his hands on his ears to stop the screams from bursting his eardrums. He felt the burn of the spells brushing against his body.
Then, the water again. He was lost, the silence of the water contrasting with the hustle of the previous flash. He was not falling this time, he was getting closer to the surface but felt as if he could never reach it alive.
Then, Tom felt his skin burning. He was surrounded by walls of fire, climbing up to the sky. The contrast with the cold he has just experienced made him feel lightheaded.
Then, he saw her. On her knees, clutching a lifeless hand, in the middle of a large corridor. She was as thin as the first time he saw her and wearing the same clothes. Tom approached and saw the way her knuckles turned white as she held the redhead's hand. She was silently crying, silently begging for this nightmare to stop when a hand grabbed her wrist to pull her up.
Yet, she felt down. She was not wearing the same clothes. She was laying on a marble floor. Tom could only focus on her facial expression. She bore none. Her face was blank as if devoid of any feelings and it was the most horrifying thing Tom ever saw. Grace had always something in her eyes. Yet, here she was lying, as if already dead.
Then, he felt aspirated and fell on the ground in an explosion. The ground shook below him and his ears began ringing. She was standing not far from him in front of a wall of debris, screaming the name of her late best friend Henry.
He closed his eyes and reopened them in a dark place. He was running and so was she. Often looking behind her. He felt her heartbeat in his ribcage, pounding. He felt the ways her legs were tired from the lack of sleep and malnutrition. Yet, she kept running and running until she was not. A purple spell illuminated the darkness. Tom turned around and saw her standing straight a few steps away. Her mouth was open and she contorted herself from the pain. Her white shirt slowly became crimson red. So was his. Suddenly, it was his heartbeat back in his ribcage and he was the one short of breath. He was the one contorting himself from the pain. The worst pain he had ever experienced.
Then, he was back into the battlefield. Tom gripped the wall beside him and tried to anchor himself. Everything was moving too fast. Everything was too loud, too bright.
Then, complete silence. Tom wondered for a moment if he had lost his hearing. But he heard his shallow breath and he felt himself moving slowly. He was holding a wand, the only source of light in this darkness. Next, the smell. It attacked him and made him gag. He lowered the wand and noticed that he was walking in a puddle of blood. It was the acrid smell of blood and cadavers. His feet suddenly stopped and lowered his wand towards a body. He didn't know this man yet he knew exactly who he was. Theodorus Hortense.
Then, she was bent over a body, her hands pressed onto an open wound. Blood spilling out. He heard small pleads behind him but couldn't look. Everywhere she put her hands on, more blood appeared. Tom felt the fear in his guts from losing someone she must have loved.
Then, he got back into the chaos. He bent as he felt spells shooting above him. He heard the piercing cry of a child and the screams of other students. He saw green, purple, red spurting from everywhere. He, once again, couldn't focus on anything, too overwhelmed by everything happening around him.
And then, he could only focus on her, laying on the marble floor again. She had not yet this haunted look on her face, she was simply scared. He heard the first crucio, followed by the antagonising sound of Grace screaming, screaming, screaming. And a second, and a third, and it simply never stopped. It went on and on. Tom lost track of time, the crucio resonated all around him so did Grace's screams for death.
Abruptly it stopped. A dark figure crouched down and without a warning pierced her left arm with what he imagined to be a knife. He almost begged to listen to the crucio again rather than to look at the scarification. Because he knew what was being written on her skin. Grace was trashing on the ground, begging the shadow to stop, begging for death to come even. Tom had the sudden urge to push the figure away but he couldn't move a finger.
A silence settled. A deafening one after hearing Grace scream for what felt like hours. She turned her head and looked him in the eyes. She opened her mouth and let out the first words he heard since the beginning. "Am I entertaining enough ?"
Tom was pushed away and he firmly gripped the guardrail behind him. He was catching his breath, his legs and mind were tired. He finally looked at her and she was looking at him with the same emotionless expression she was baring in the last memory. Tom tried to take hold of himself. Tom experienced death for the first time, he experienced drowning and a pain so sharp he felt he would die from it. He experienced death and was not willing to do it ever again.
Never
"As you saw Tom, you have nothing to worry about." Grace spoke up. "I have way worse to show than you standing above the body of Myrtle Warren."
Tom was now standing straight, looking right at her. He was supposed to be horrified by what he just witnessed. He was supposed to feel sick from the images still flashing through his mind. Tom knew she was manipulative and cunning, always a step ahead of everyone and sometimes even himself.
Still, he felt like meeting her for the first time on this night for she was not a flame as he thought at the beginning but an entire wildfire. And he was basking in her blazing heat.
He looked at the scar on her neck. He must have looked at it hundreds of times yet he truly saw it for the first time. The scar he knew she bore below her coat, the one the purple spell carved, the one he felt and bled through his shirt was right there. And he felt the sudden urge to touch it. She was standing in front of him in all of her glory and she was magnificent.
"I once thought there was no glory in surviving." He said as he lit a cigarette, still unable to take his eyes off of her. She went by his side and leaned against it too, yet her elbows on the guardrail, facing the field. He didn't have to finish his sentence, he knew she understood as he turned his head to keep looking into her eyes.
Tom took a long drag from the cigarette and for the first time willingly offered it to her. "What are we going to do about Oswald then?" He asked.
"What am I going to do about him ?" She reformulated and took the fag. Tom watched her as she inhaled, bent her head backward, and exhaled the white smoke into the dark sky.
Authors' Note : Sorry for the little delay - to reassure ourselves we say that we've done worst with the six months hiatus :)
But the finals are over so we're officially on holidays - we do hope it means we're gonna write a lot.
Actually, we have been waiting a YEAR for the next four chapters. We are so excited to write them - we've been listening on loop for a year to the four songs corresponding to each chapter. Yes, we're really excited.
We're living for your reviews - they are all amazing and we don't know how to thank you enough for the time you spend reading and reviewing. We love them so much
By the way, the amazing AnnaCifer made a Spotify playlist with all the songs (and some we've used while writing) : playlist/0OONyzCzrWMmMUTjp3M4MI?si=-9i0C4yeQtqp4LM2xs1Hfw
Lots of love,
-DDM's Managers