Seven Years, Chapter 18.
Beta Reader: ChocolateOwl.
AN: I don't own any of the characters. Stop asking. Even my "O.C" characters are like 85% stolen from Friday the 13th anyhow (foreshadowing!)
Merula went to lunch the next day feeling more upbeat than usual, which really just meant she wasn't scowling. To her surprise, she saw an unexpected face at the end of the table where the seventh-year girls spent their lunches.
She approached slowly, watching the bastard who had poured pumpkin juice over her head the first night, her wand out, ready to hex him if he tried it again.
But then Merula was tackled from wand slipped from her fingers as she yelped in surprise. "Hey Merula! Having lunch with us again?" A.J's cheerful voice came as Merula jerked to her feet. She could feel her face flushing a bright red as she grabbed her wand.
Merula wanted to say yes, but the sight of Terence Higgs, the boy who had dumped a goblet of pumpkin juice over her head, made her hesitate.
"Oh come on." A.J laughed when Merula looked back at her. "He's here because we made him. if he doesn't apologize he'll vomit slugs all afternoon too."
Merula turned back to the rest of the seventh year girls and noticed several visible grins on their faces, but what caught her eye was how Higgs looked genuinely afraid.
In Merula's opinion, fear of her friends was barely enough to convince her to sit, much less feel relaxed. She didn't know all too much about Higgs except that he wasn't nearly as good a Seeker as the professionals she grew up watching, but if she had a cadre of seventh years willing to help her if something went wrong, she supposed she could accept the risk.
So she sat down, and she stared at Terence Higgs.
"So," A.J said cheerfully. "Anything to say, Terence?"
Merula watched the face of the former Slytherin Seeker. Annoyance flickered within her when he didn't say anything.
"Come on," one of the other girls, a scowling brunette in thick glasses named Deborah, complained. "You promised to apologize, didn't you? At least for trying to steal her broom."
Merula blinked as the information came to her slowly. Higgs tried to steal her broom? The same broom with her name engraved on it? How stupid could he be?
"I-" Higgs started. "There's a Quidditch tryout for the Seeker position."
"Go on," Merula heard A.J. say. "Two little words or we hex you."
"I'm sorry," Higgs muttered. "I shouldn't have thrown the juice at you. It was stupid."
"And the broom too," Deborah called.
"And the broom too," Higgs repeated, his head low. "I'm sorry."
"Not so hard now, was it?" Tiffany laughed, clapping Higgs hard on the back.
Merula nodded at the words. She wasn't ready to forgive the former Seeker, not until she figured out why he wanted her broom. Did Draco or Blaise put him up to it somehow? She doubted it. Higgs would probably have turned on them in a heartbeat if they did.
"If you don't mind it," Higgs said finally, after what seemed like several seconds of awkward staring. "I'd like to borrow your broom."
Merula glanced over to A.J., who merely shrugged and didn't say anything.
"Why should I?" Merula asked after a moment of internal debate. She wasn't actively using the broom, but Terence Higgs was very low on her list of people at Hogwarts she liked. If anything, he was somewhere between Pug-face and Draco, and she was inclined to not do any favours for either of them. "What's in it for me?"
"I can offer you money," Higgs said finally. "It would be only a few Sickles a month."
Merula snorted as she thought of the letter Lucius had sent her. She could withdraw a hundred Galleons on a monthly basis. What would a few Sickles do for her? "No."
Higgs grimaced. "I'm worried if we don't get a good broom, we'll lose to Gryffindor. Potter has maybe the second best broom on the market, after all."
"Have Flint lend you a broom," Merula muttered. "Take a Beater's broom."
"She has a point," Tiffany said with a roll of her eyes. "Make better offers, Higgs."
Higgs grimaced, but then he turned his gaze over to Tiffany. "I'm not from a rich family. What do you want me to offer, Mudblood?"
Merula felt her jaw drop as she turned over to Tiffany, finding, much to her own surprise, that the seventh year looked unfazed. Tiffany was a Muggleborn? Merula hadn't noticed at all.
"I've been called far worse," Tiffany replied with a roll of her eyes. "Upgrade your insult game while you're at it, Higgs."
"Higgs," Deborah hissed, her voice as cold as the Scottish winter. "Have you lost your mind or did you like vomiting slugs?"
"Cool it Debs," Tiffany scoffed, turning back to her lunch and continuing between bites. "Higgs calling me a Mudblood is nothing new. You know that, I know that, everyone here except Merula knows that."
Merula sat in her seat and tried her best to keep an emotionless face at the words of her roommates, hoping that they wouldn't see her silence as odd as she tried to make sense of the words.
Immediately, Merula realized she had caught a lucky break regarding the word Mudblood. She had no qualms of using the slur before, and if it hadn't been for Higgs invoking the wrath of her roommates, it very well could have been her.
And that suffering, all for one word she reserved for one particularly annoying witch, wasn't worth the risk of saying it, and Merula took careful notes to avoid using the word in school, especially when she realized she didn't know enough of Slytherin to know who was a Pureblood and who was a Mudblood.
But Merula realized she needed to steer the conversation away from the slur, before any of her friends became suspicious about her silence, so she turned to the disgraced Seeker with a question. "What happens if you don't get the broom, Higgs?"
"He says Draco might get the job if nobody else performs up to standard," A.J. said, a scoff in her voice. "Just because he had his stupid broom."
Merula opened her eyes again to squint at A.J. "Are you sure Flint is that desperate?"
"It's Flint," Tiffany laughed, sighing dramatically as she shook her head. "He'll do anything to win."
"It also looks bad for our house," A.J. admitted at last. "The Seeker is the only member of the Quidditch team to not have a fancy broom?"
Merula grimaced at the thought before she looked over to Higgs. She thought of his actions, and then she thought of Draco and Blaise. She had no doubt either of them could use a dumb brute like Higgs to their advantage, which meant she herself had to take the first step.
"Fine," Merula said finally. "You get the broom."
She enjoyed the sight of Higgs' jaw drop, his face contorted in confusion.
"On one condition," Merula added, glancing around the Great Hall.
"What is it?" Higgs asked, suddenly looking like a pleading dog, willing to do anything for his treat.
"Don't use the word Mudblood again," Merula replied, glancing over to Tiffany, who merely cocked her head slightly and turned back to her food. "We've lost enough points because of you already."
"Sure," Higgs said, his eyes darting around the table. "I could do that."
Merula sighed as she got up from her seat. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
"I'll come too," Merula heard A.J. say. "I want a word with Higgs, in private."
Merula frowned at A.J. when she stood up. What was it that she wanted to tell Higgs?
"Whatever," Higgs replied. "Just get me the broom alright."
Merula grimaced at the words as they left the dining hall, but she let the two older students take the lead regardless. When they reached the Common Room, Merula wasn't even surprised when A.J. suddenly pulled out her wand and rammed it into Higgs' back, a hiss that Merula couldn't hear clearly coming from her lips.
The effect was immediate, and Merula took a step back as Higgs fell to his knees, a fat slug spilling from his lips, followed by another, and another, and another.
"Call Tiffany a Mudblood again," A.J. said, her voice even colder than Deborah's voice in the Great Hall. "And you'll have to be moved to the infirmary full time, understand?"
Higgs vomited a slug in response, but Merula saw what seemed to be a parody of a nod from him when A.J flicked her wand, disappearing the slugs on the ground. Then, as if for good measure, A.J. kicked Higgs in the stomach, causing another slug to fall from his lips.
"Wait here," A.J. ordered Higgs before she turned to Merula, her eyes burning with anger. "Come on Merula. Let's get him his dumb broom."
Merula winced at the sight of the writhing slugs as she passed Higgs, now sprawled over on the carpet, groaning to himself, but she followed A.J. quietly, lest she provoke her roommate any further and be reduced to vomiting slugs herself. In the few seconds it took Merula to enter the seventh year girl's dorm, A.J. had already opened her suitcase, and laid out the expensive broom on her bed.
"How did you do that?" Merula asked finally, taking a quiet step back toward the door. If A.J. decided to turn on her, Merula didn't want to be on the same floor as her roommate. "What happened to Higgs, I mean."
"Slugulus Eructo," A.J replied as she slammed Merula's suitcase shut, standing up to face Merula, her face neutral but her eyes and voice still clearly furious. "It's a relatively harmless curse I know."
"Ah," Merula said, inching closer to the door. "You're not going to use it on me, right?"
A.J. chuckled at that, and Merula flinched when the next step she took backed her into the door. "No. You haven't given me a reason to, not yet. But you will back me up if… Higgs complains, yes?"
It wasn't a question Merula wanted to answer, but A.J. was coming too close for comfort so Merula took the smart, Slytherin option and hummed her confirmation.
"He won't complain," A.J. said with a little chuckle as she ran a hand through Merula's wild hair, causing Merula to feel a shiver run down her spine. "He's bright enough to avoid it, no matter how stupid he seems. He knows I was close with Murk."
"Murk?" Merula repeated She had never heard of the name before. "Who is that?"
"Ismelda Murk," A.J. replied as she opened the door to the common room. "She graduated the year before you came to Hogwarts, and well, she liked her curses."
"Really?" Merula was suddenly curious as a spark of malice ran through her veins.
"I'm not going to teach you any though." A.J. shook her head, her eyes growing hard. "With the exception of Slugulus Eructo, there's nothing she taught us that a second year can control. Not Sectumsempra, and certainly not Fiendfyre."
Merula shivered at the mention of the cursed fire that once burned three quarters of London to the ground. No, she had no desire to learn about that particular spell. But what was Sectumsempra? And why was it being mentioned in the same sentence as Fiendfyre?
"What's Sectumsempra?" Merula asked out loud. "I've never heard of that before."
"Good," A.J. replied, her voice cold and leaving no room for argument. "Keep it that way."
There wasn't anything for Merula to say as she watched A.J. drop into one of the unoccupied chairs at the centre of the Slytherin common room, dumping Merula's broom on Higgs in the process.
Merula swallowed slowly as her curiosity overcame her fear. "How bad could it be compared to Fiendfyre?"
"Merula," A.J said after a long second, her voice hard and her usually playful eyes deadly serious. "Sectumsempra and Fiendfyre are the two most dangerous curses any of us know of outside of the Unforgivables. Do you understand that?"
Merula nodded dumbly, hoping A.J. wouldn't hex her into an infirmary bed for what turned out to be an increasingly stupid question she had asked, given how angry AJ seemed.
"Cast it wrong," A.J continued after a long moment, her voice only slightly less furious. "And you could cut someone in half, and no healer in Wizarding Britain could help them. And I have no intent to teach you something like that until I know you're mature enough to use it."
Merula took a deep breath as A.J. stood up, kicking Higgs one more time before she headed up the stairs. "Get your books, Merula. Lunch is almost over."
The classes in Merula's afternoon were easy, boringly so, especially since she had read her books from cover to cover over the summer, even Lockhart's awful fiction. It made Merula think long and hard about A.J. 's warning. A curse that could cut someone in half? That was incredibly dangerous dark magic. A student named Ismelda Murk had learned it at Hogwarts? The notion seemed ridiculous with the useless professors who Merula had to put up with in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but perhaps Hogwarts was going through a difficult time during hiring. Perhaps the previous decade had seen more competent teaching on the subject.
In the middle of History of Magic, Merula was torn from her thoughts by the sound of slamming doors and shouts of surprise from what seemed like the entirety of the class behind her.
Merula turned her head to look, but she didn't get far, for suddenly she saw a man's dark cloak far too close to her for comfort as a strong hand dragged her upward.
"Flipendo!" Merula shrieked in panic the moment she could bring her wand against her attacker, and she felt a pang of satisfaction as she felt the hand on her shoulder disappear. But the moment she got a good look at her attacker, Merula felt her heart sink into her stomach.
The man picking himself up from the ground was an Auror, his face now flushed in rage.
Merula didn't have time to stand and gawk. She suddenly felt herself thrown back, her head slamming into the desk behind her with enough force that her thoughts shattered on impact, equal parts pain and confusion frying what little comprehension she still had left.
Merula clung to her wand, but she couldn't resist the second time the large, rough hands hoisted her up. Somewhere between the sounds of stunned gasps and mocking laughter, her wand slipped from her fingers too.
There was little left in Merula to fight, even as her wits slowly recovered. Her wand was gone, and though the pain in her head Merula's fuzzy mind realized that her chance at resistance was lost with it.
But there were other things that Merula's mind could still pick up though the pain, like the fact that her limbs were still hanging limp, or the fact that she was being carried higher into the castle, wherever they were truly going.
The answer became clear enough a few minutes later when Merula felt herself being suddenly and violently dumped into a seat. Across the office, Dumbledore rose from his seat with a look on his face that Merula had never seen on the old man before.
There was a brief flash of light from the end of Dumbledore's wand, and the pain in her head disappeared, though it was replaced with a black rage that clouded every thought passing through her mind.
Inside Merula's mind, she dreamed of spitting the Aurors in two, but that fantasy was cut short when the fireplace roared to life, and Merula turned her head in time to see a third Auror emerge from the flames, her blood running cold.
The Auror who had dragged her from Snyde Manor as a little girl now stood by the fireplace, and he looked angry. His pale wand pointed at her, like the cold, deathly hands of Voldemort in her nightmares.
"Auror Hadley," Dumbledore said, his voice containing more venom than Merula had thought possible with the sweet, somewhat silly headmaster. "What is this about?"
"Miss Snyde is required under the Muggle Protection Act to open her Gringotts Vault for inspection," the murdering Auror growled, his eyes glaring down into her own. "Refusal to comply will result in serious consequences."
There it was again. Weasley's Muggle Protection Act. First it had robbed her of family artifacts she hadn't even known existed, and now it was forcing her to take part personally? The more Merula thought of it, the angrier she felt.
"What do I have to do?" Merula asked through gritted teeth. "Open the vault myself?"
"Watch your tongue, Miss Snyde," the murdering Auror said, slamming what looked like a heavy book into Dumbledore's desk. "There is an acceptable time this Sunday. You will be escorted to Gringotts. There you will grant investigators access to your vault and assist them in their queries."
Merula took a deep breath as she moved over to look at the book, and she gritted her teeth when she saw that her name was stencilled in at a time well before daybreak, the ink seemingly having dried well before Merula had any inclination of what was about to happen.
"And what precautions will be taken inside the vault?" Dumbledore asked. "You may very well trigger a protective ward along the way. What will you do then?"
"We are professionals, Headmaster," the murdering Auror growled as he turned away from the desk, the thick book back under his arm. "You do not understand the importance of-"
"Arthur would not have approved of your actions here today," Merula heard Dumbledore say as he stood up, wagging a finger at the murdering Auror as if it was a wand or sword. "Had he seen how your men acted against a student in pursuit of your objectives, he would have torn the act up himself."
Merula watched as the three Aurors stood as well, their faces angry. But to her surprise, the Aurors did not strike out against Dumbledore. Instead, they disappeared into the fire one after another with little scoops of Floo powder, none of them even saying a word.
Only when Dumbledore turned around, did he break the silence. "Lemon Drop?"
"No, thank you," Merula said before she pushed herself to her feet, away from the stability the chair offered. "I… I think I should get back to class. I'm not sure where my wand is."
"I'm sure it has been picked up already," Dumbledore said. "But I do believe you will need to check in with Madam Pomfrey before you return to class. You seemed to have hit your head."
Merula nodded slowly as she took a wobbly first step. Yes, Dumbledore was right on that account. She would need to at least check in with Madam Pomfrey.
She took a second step. Or at least, what Merula thought was a second step until she saw the floor rising up to greet her before darkness took her.
It was dark when Merula woke again. A little groan escaped her parched throat when she realized she was in the infirmary yet again, with a bag of magical ice under her pillow.
Merula remained in bed for a few long minutes. She hoped that Madam Pomfrey had cured whatever had happened to her, but she wasn't going to risk another tumble to the hard floor if she could avoid it.
But boredom and hunger kicked in as Merula continued twisting and turning in the unfamiliar bed, not to mention her parched throat that scratched the back of her mouth. She slid from the bed, clinging onto the nightstand next to the bed for stability until she was sure her footing was sound.
Not wanting to risk another fall and possibly another injury in the process, Merula tested her legs from the relative safety of the cabinet. She found that,, at the very least, her legs were working fine.
She took one hesitant step forward, then another, before she heard a nearby door opening, with Madam Pomfrey stepping through the door.
"Miss Snyde," she called out, her voice warm and friendly. "I see you've recovered from your unfortunate fall. A mild concussion, nothing more, but no Quidditch in the future for you."
Merula managed a weak smile in turn as she shook her head. "I've lent my broom away regardless. I don't intend to play this year."
Madam Pomfrey pulled a note from her robes in response to her words. "There you go. A note for you, in the event any prefect needs to see it… not that I expect you to meet any."
Merula nodded in thanks as she took the little note from Madam Pomfrey, but before she could even walk out of the hospital wing, the door cracked open on its own. She found herself staring into the surprised face of Percy Weasley.
"Ah, Mr. Weasley," Merula heard Madam Pomfrey say. "What brings you here?"
"Hello, Madam Pomfrey." Percy waved slightly. "My partner and I were just checking up on Merula."
"How lovely of you," Madam Pomfrey continued. "Rest assured, Miss Snyde is in good health."
Merula gave a little nod at that. She took a step closer to Percy before another figure stepped through the door.
"Well," Victoria the prefect said, her lips in a tight frown. "Miss Snyde, we've met again. If Madam Pomfrey is alright with it, we'll take you back down to Slytherin."
Merula nodded at the words, but she didn't say anything. She didn't want to face the rest of her house, not with the inevitable stream of rumours and questions she suspected she would face, but sleep wasn't an option either, not when she had just climbed out of an infirmary bed, so she had little choice in the matter.
"Come," Victoria said. "We'll bring you back to the dungeons, and then we can fill you in there."
At the mention of more information, Merula rasped out, cringing at the sound of her own voice, "Question."
"Yes?" Percy asked when he turned to her. "And Madam, some water, please."
Despite the attention of the two prefects on her, Merula waited until Madam Pomfrey returned with a glass of water. She finished the water quickly before she spoke. "I…" Merula started, then stopped, suddenly concerned as she looked at the faces of the prefects. How much did they know of the events of the afternoon? Merula had no idea, but she knew the rumours would have spread like wildfire. "I think I dropped my wand after I… hit my head."
"Merula," Victoria said after a long, awkward pause. "We all heard about what those Aurors did to you. Your brother… well, you understand."
Merula gritted her teeth. Percy cleared his throat. "One of our second years picked up a lost wand today," he said. "Should I go get it?"
Merula glanced over to the older prefect, who shrugged. "We can accompany you there. Our patrol route passes by Gryffindor Tower regardless."
Merula nodded her agreement. She knew she wasn't going to be able to sleep if she returned to the dungeons. Her thoughts, guilt, rage, and embarrassment would make sure of that, and that was assuming that her roommates hadn't stayed up late waiting on her, given her most recent mishap.
It felt strange to be out and about in the darkness without having to scamper and hide, Merula realized as she climbed the great staircase up to the second floor. She took a few moments to let her eyes wander, though she saw little in the dark.
"Don't linger," Merula heard Victoria call from several steps above her. "We don't want you to get lost, do we?"
Merula murmured an apology from under her breath before she ran up the steps and caught up to the prefects, hoping they didn't notice how hot her face felt.
To her relief, however, the trip up to Gryffindor Tower was a quiet one, with no other would-be rulebreakers out and about and no ghosts to call her out on her alleged assault on an Auror.
"Wait here, please," Percy said as he stopped before a large painting of a very fat woman sleeping. "If you don't mind."
"Of course," Victoria said as she nudged Merula away. "We all have our secrets, Gryffindor."
"What secret are you talking about?" Merula asked as they headed back to the top of the staircase they had come in on, a fair distance away from the painting of the fat lady.
"Gryffindor's common room lies beyond the painting," Victoria replied. "And as much as we hate them for the stunt they pulled last year, we're not going to run in and wreak havoc."
Merula nodded. There was still an uneasy feeling within her chest that Merula knew only a distraction could push away, if only for a moment. And so she looked around the dark corridor, but she found little of interest within the range of Victoria's flickering lantern. Finally, when she could no longer distract herself from the feeling inside her, she asked the lingering question on her mind."What did Draco say happened?" With the Aurors I mean."
Victoria paused for a moment. "He said they tried to take you away for a crime, and the Aurors had to curse you to drag you off."
Merula grimaced. "I did use Flipendo against the one who grabbed me."
Victoria raised an eyebrow, but she continued nonetheless. "I don't know what anyone else involved heard or is saying, but I believe Angelina and the others will ensure that no harm comes to you… as bizarre as some of their methods may be."
"Angelina?" Merula asked, her mind coming to a blank on the name. "Who?"
"Angelina Jacquotte Mason," Victoria said. She paused for a moment before she looked into Merula's eyes. "Or, as you probably would know her, A.J."
"Oh." Merula thought of the seventh year dumping Merula's broom on the hapless Terence Higgs. To describe her methods as bizaare was an understatement.
"Might I ask you what the whole debacle was about?" Victoria asked finally. "I can't see any reason why the Aurors would want to drag off a second year."
Merula grimaced at the question as she glanced down the hallway. Weasley wasn't coming back yet, so Merula supposed she had time to talk candidly.
"The Aurors demanded I open up my family vaults under the Muggle Protection Act," Merula muttered, hoping to have a neutral party to vent to before Weasley came back. "Said I had no choice."
Victoria looked furious. "When are they making you open your vaults?"
"Sunday," Merula replied. "Four in the morning at Gringotts."
"Four in the morning?" The rage disappeared momentarily from the prefect's face, replaced with disbelief. Then the fury returned with full force. "How will you wake up?"
Merula paused for a second at the question. "I won't. Maybe I could drink coffee at dinner and stay up all night."
"Absolutely not." Victoria was already shaking her head. "There has to be some way to reschedule this whole thing."
Merula shrugged, feeling suddenly tired and worn down by the whole debacle. "I'd rather not imagine the alternative."
"The alternative to what?" Percy's voice called from the darkness, followed by a familiar hoot.
Merula squinted into the dark and almost smiled when she noticed Cloak in a small cage. Even though he looked significantly slimmer than before, he was otherwise alive and well.
But the presence of a Weasley, even the best of the group, made any further conversation awkward, and Merula had yet to finish with what the Aurors intended for her.
"She said the Aurors were enforcing your father's Muggle Protection Act," Victoria said, shattering Merula's hope that their conversation could have been held in confidence. "That she's due to Gringotts at four in the morning Sunday."
To Merula's surprise, Weasley's jaw fell wide open..
"Have I summarized it to your understanding, Merula?" Victoria asked after a moment of silence.
Merula could only nod in response, her eyes cast down to her owl, still in its cage.
"Father never would have…" Percy muttered, his hands shaking. "If he knew…"
"It doesn't matter," Merula muttered. "Come Sunday, I'll have to watch the Aurors rip up my family vault."
"You?" Percy sounded stunned. "What about your parents?"
"Azkaban," Merula said, pausing for a moment, deciding she would elaborate just a little further. "My mother's been dead for some time."
"Oh," Percy said, his lips pursing into a grimace. "I… I apologize on my father's behalf. He… he didn't mean the act to be forced upon children."
"It doesn't matter," Merula repeated again, her voice almost a whisper. A cold, dead feeling spread through her body, one that made her want to go to sleep and never wake again. "It's not like he can do anything anymore."
There was silence again in the hallway, and Merula swallowed slowly as she picked up Cloak's cage and turned back to the stairs. The full understanding of the situation was finally sinking in like wet clothes that pressed cold sorrow against her skin, sapping whatever joy she received from Cloak's safe return.
"Just one moment," Percy said, pulling Merula's wand out from his robes, his face bitter and sorrowful. "This is yours, and if you need anything..."
Merula slipped her wand back where it belonged before she ran down the flight of stairs. At the bottom, she slowed into a forced walk as her lungs burned with pain and her eyes misted with unshed tears.
Merula stopped and ducked into the nearest classroom, trying so hard to avoid the cold truth of what the Aurors were demanding of her, but her thoughts, fuelled by her own cold, relentless logic, rushed through her cold bones and deadened flesh, and tightened a vice around her pounding heart.
The tears fell quickly, and Merula wept, alone in a dark castle, both for her own family legacy she was going to have to tear down, and the guilt she would have to live with.
AN: Chapter 18 complete!
Read, Review, etc.
Before anyone hits me with another "Weasley hater" claim (I don't hate them, as much as I will admit butchering Ron's scene in the hallway), I'm only pointing out that Arthur Weasley likely wrote in provisions to the Muggle Protection Act to avoid pureblood families from simply stuffing their dark artefacts into Gringotts (hence why Lucius had to dump potentially dangerous items into B&B rather than stuffing them into a vault). All that matters is enforcement.
Foreshadowing!
