CHAPTER TWO:

Distant Memories

1

Fourth Year

"I said leave Martha alone!"

"Veronica, stop," Martha tries to step in front of her but Veronica doesn't budge (damn Gryffindor pride), "he's not worth it," she whispers.

Kurt was a great teammate on the quidditch field but the same curtesy didn't go outside the pitch. He glares at her saying, "Dumptruck doesn't need your help and even if she did she wouldn't take it from a mudblood—"

Veronica aims her wand. "Take that back," she doesn't pay mind to the crowd of students eager for a fight, "or else."

"Or else what? Mudblood."

Veronica doesn't think when she aims a horn-growing hex towards Kurt. It's a slightly more advanced spell that she learned studying books over the summer in between working at her part time job at the diner up on 3rd. She isn't one to act recklessly but when it comes to Martha she gets a little over protective. She deems horns fitting for Kurt and is longing to see them sprout from his head when—

"Protego!" Kurt's reflexes are better than she expected. He casts a protection spell and the hex bounces off his shield and hits her in the gut causing her to fall to her knees. Martha crowds her in a rush of words as twisting antlers sprout from her head. Kurt and his crew laugh, "holy shit! Look at her! She's gonna have to sit through all of potions like that."

Martha helps her up, "let's just go."

Veronica snatches her arm away from Martha and runs until Kurt's laughing is dulled behind the walls of the school. She makes a sharp right and bumps into the last person she wants to see (especially when her face is red and she's close to tears). Heather Chandler is leaning against the windowsill, the book she was reading falls to the floor when Veronica bumps her.

She expects Heather to snap at her but all she does is pick up her book and lean back up against the sill. Her disinterest hurts Veronica more than any scorn she would've given her so she runs past her towards the dormitory; there's no way she's going to class looking like a freak.

2

Veronica remembers that day. It wasn't the first time she'd embarrassed herself protecting Martha. But over the years her spells grew stronger, as did her reflexes, and she's proud to say she has bested Kurt more times than she's lost. Her contribution to their quidditch matches eventually did make Kurt submit and now he somewhat respects her but she can't say the same for his crew. Veronica still bunts heads with them. During most of her duels, in the crowd, she has always seen Heather, mostly hanging around JD, paying no attention to Veronica and the new group of bullies she was protecting Martha from. She never thought Heather noticed…that she didn't care.

Veronica brushes a strand of hair out of Heather's face when someone knocks on the door. "Heather!" Duke's voices sends chills up her spine. "Heather," she shouts again with another knock.

Veronica knows they have a silencing spell up around Heather's room but she doesn't trust Duke not to force herself inside somehow. And knowing the golden trio and how close their secrets go she doesn't doubt Duke has the knowledge to find a way. "Heather," she shakes her a bit too violently. Heather rolls out of bed and falls to the floor in a pile of limbs and blankets.

"What the fu—" Heather cuts herself off when Veronica peeks her head over the edge of the bed to check on her. Memories from last night must be resurfacing because a vibrant blush spreads from her face to the tip of her ears.

"Heather!" Duke shouts again.

Mac sounds timid, "do you think she overslept?"

"Wouldn't be the first time, lazy…"

"Shit." Heather hisses. She jumps to action but it only causes her to tangle herself further into the sheets. Heather eventually gets free, standing victorious in her oversized Slytherin shirt. "What time is it?" she asks, frantic.

"Uh—half past ten." Veronica says quickly. She's confused when Heather pulls on a bra in a frenzy before switching her shirt out for a dress shirt. Heather runs around the room and searches through her drawers for a clean outfit. It's Saturday so they don't have to wear their uniform around school but she's never seen Heather wear anything casual.

"Are you gonna help me or sit there gawking?" Heather calls her out.

"Sorry it's just, things would be a lot easier if you used a wand." Veronica says with a smirk, not knowing exactly where her sudden confidence is coming from.

"Can't really find it at the moment," Heather huffs, "someone threw it last night."

Veronica neither denies nor vouches for her innocence. Instead, she pulls out her own wand from her sock. She uses her wand to makeup Heather's bed and then points it at Heather herself before she can protest. In a couple of seconds Heather is dressed in one of her usual weekend outfits Veronica has often admired from afar: a green pleated skirt with high black socks, with a white blouse, and a charming black blazer—including a Slytherin green tie.

Heather pulls on the fabric with a scowl. "Seriously? What's up with the tie?"

"I think it looks nice on you." Veronica shrugs.

"Just nice?"

Veronica feels her face warm, "you're insufferable."

"Heather," the knocking continues.

"Shit." Heather sighs, "okay, let me think of how we're gonna get you out of here, maybe you can—"

"You don't do this often," Veronica asks suddenly, "do you?"

Heather purses her lips. "Not particularly. No."

"Neither do I," Veronica ducks her head.

"Really?"

Veronica smiles. "Yeah…but I know you're familiar with sneaking around the school. Let me use your invisibility cloak to get out of here."

Heather frowns, "how do you—"

"I pay attention."

"Your head's always in your journal, ya know? I didn't think you'd noticed." She wants to tell Heather just how much she's watched her over the years but Heather's retrieving her wand from her desk and saying, "accio invisibility cloak." Her cloak springs up from somewhere inside her closet and falls into her arms. "Here," Heather wraps it around Veronica, "use the east wing, it's pretty slow during the morning. Everyone should be in the great hall anyway or sleeping."

Veronica nods, "got it."

Heather turns to the door. "Okay, now I just have to take off the silencing spell then we're—"

Veronica pulls Heather in for a kiss. When she pulls away Heather's eyes are still closed so she takes the opportunity to hide her blush by slipping under the cloak. When Heather opens her eyes, Veronica's seemingly gone.

"Heather—" the second and third additions to the golden trio knock on the door again.

"For fucks sake," Heather rolls her eyes. She takes off the silencing spell and opens the door. Duke and Mac nearly fall to the floor. "What?"

Duke frowns, "don't what us! The hell took so long, Hess?"

"It's Saturday. You know I like to sleep in." Heather pulls them away from the door so Veronica can slip out unannounced. "What's going on?"

Mac holds up a vial, "we have the tears from Slughorn."

Slughorn, Veronica thinks, why does that name sound so familiar?

Heather does her best to keep the door open long enough for Veronica to slip out. Ample time, but Veronica slips further into the room where she's sure no one will detect her breathing or bump into her by accident. She knows she shouldn't but the shadow is after Heather and she wants to know why. Dark magic doesn't just target people for no reason. She wouldn't be surprised if Heather and her gangly group are poking their noses where they don't belong.

"You found it?" Heather finally closes the door to protect them from prying ears. "How?"

Duke huffs, "had to use the rest of my liquid luck to pry answers from Slughorn. I was gonna use that luck to ask out Mason, that hot upper classman."

"Please, with your personality," Heather rolls her eyes. "Now, back to Slughorn. Where was he?"

Duke relents, "he was hiding out at a muggle village, Budleigh Babberton. Mac sent some questions through the grapevine and eventually we got an anonymous tip. After that it wasn't hard to find a location, and then I came into the game with one of your Polyjuice potions. Slughorn thought I was an old friend of his. This way, if anything happens, nothing can be traced back to us."

Heather grabs the vial. "How does it work?"

Mac says, "we need a pensive. It's a device used to conjure the memory."

"Okay," Heather nods, "where do we get one? This building is centuries old, there has to be one laying around here somewhere, right?"

Duke winces, "there is."

"Brilliant." Heather looks ready to move but is put off by sullen faces. "…spit it out. What's the problem?"

Mac confesses, "there's one in Dumbledore's office."

"We're already on thin ice with Fleming." Heather frowns "how the hell are we going to get in there without him knowing? Or long enough to see the memories?"

"No clue," Mac presses the vial into Heather's hands. "But you're doing this mission solo."

"What! Why?"

Duke huffs, "because Dumbledore gives us the creeps, and I already risked my life having a shady old man literally cry on my shoulder—I deserve a pass from this one."

"What about you?" Heather turns to Mac. "You're the one who's good with small talk."

"We don't need small talk; we need to be sneaky and you're the best person for it." Mac says, "besides, Duke and I are going to dig into what happened at the game yesterday. The newspaper says they released the suspect on the grounds of foul play. There were traces of dark magic in his system; like he was being controlled, but that's all they're telling us."

"Fine," Heather gives, "I guess I can go solo for this one. Dumbledore shouldn't be in his office on the weekend so after breakfast I'll see what I can do."

"Just be careful about the portraits in his office. They're always watching."

Heather sighs, "I know, come on. I can't be sneaky on an empty stomach."

Veronica waits until they're gone before she slips out a few moments after they've left the lounging area. There are gears moving around in her head long after she's halfway to the great hall.

3

The great hall is practically deserted when Heather trudges in during lunch. She ended up having to skip breakfast, stealing an apple and some scones, because Fleming made good on her promise to punish her. While she could've been snooping in Dumbledore's office, she was locked up in the Fleming's classroom grading underclassmen essay's (the lazy old hag can't do her own work). It struck Heather as odd, how she was the only one, out of three others, to get punished for a group effort. At the same time, Heather isn't looking forward to running into Veronica anytime soon so she sucked it up but definitely graded the essay's harsher than usual.

"There she is," Ram says fondly as she collapses into the seat across from him, "Fleming had you grading essay's again?"

"This round of second years are idiots. They make Herbology harder than it should be."

Ram's face turns white as he looks over her shoulder. "Uhm, cue angry step-brother in three—two—"

"Hess," JD growls in her ear.

Heather and JD wrestle per their usual Saturday routine. Every Saturday afternoon JD publicly scolds Heather for her reckless behavior at the game the previous night. "Get off me," Heather hisses, flailing her arms wildly.

"What the hell was that yesterday, huh?"

Heather goes to grab her wand, to throw a hex JD's way (a nasty one she's been practicing just for him), but Ram snatches it away. "Let her go JD. No fighting in the great hall," he knows how quickly a brawl can break out between these two. "Heather's already being punished. Leave it alone."

JD lets her go but doesn't drop his glare even as he sits beside her. "You could've died."

Heather fixes her stretched collar. "The fall wasn't what I was worried about, I was too busy trying to shield myself from the crazy guy attacking me from the stands."

JD simmers down a bit. "…they caught the asshole so don't worry. The ministry will take care of him. He better get the kiss for the stunt he pulled."

"What do you think he wanted?" Ram asks.

JD looks away with a grimace. "…Heather's always had a target on her back." He's likely thinking back to the death threats and outlandish stares Heather received as a child. Heather hated putting JD and Mr. Dean in the position where they had to move to a muggle neighborhood just to avoid the threat of vengeful death eaters. She didn't want them to live in fear because of her. That's why she needs to figure out what new entity was causing so much destruction.

"You're safe here," Ram tries to reassure them but it doesn't change the grim looks on their faces. "Dumbledore can protect you. Right?"

Heather curses to herself at the mention of Dumbledore. She was too busy projecting her anger on second-year essays that she forgot about her mission. She needed to find a way into his office so she could view the memories from Slughorn.

"Right," JD brings her back to reality. "…the asshole is being detained, there's nothing to worry about."

Ram laughs. "You seem more worked up about this than Heather. What's wrong? Did he ruin your plans?"

"I had everything ready too! I was going to ask her out right after the game. For real this time."

Ram doesn't look convinced. "Really? How about you do it right now then."

"W-what?"

"Veronica just walked in. Ask her out now, make new plans."

Heather looks away when Veronica tries to meet her eyes. Suddenly she isn't hungry anymore. "Where're you going, Hess?"

Heather tries to smile, "I forgot I've got a shit tone of work to do for potions. But I'll see you guys later?"

JD looks worried but knows when to give her space. "Alright, I'll see you tonight or something. Dad sent us a letter about coming home for summer break but I was waiting to read it with you."

"Sounds great," Heather shoulders her bag, "see ya." She swiftly moves from the hall to the bathroom and slips into an empty stall. Heather pulls out a small dose of Polyjuice she keeps on hand and a strand of hair she stole from Fleming earlier (not a total waste of time). She mixes the concoction and downs it in one go. Her hand hits the metal wall, startling the inhabitant next to her. Heather tries to hold back a grunt at the uncomfortable shift.

The stall beside her opens and a hesitant voice asks, "are you okay in there?"

"Fine," she spits out once it's all over. "Miss Dunnstock. Thank you for your concern but I'm feeling fine just a little bug."

Martha adjusts her glasses. "Miss Fleming! I'm so sorry—"

"No worries," Heather washes her hands and plays the part, "if you'll excuse me I have some second-year essays to grade." She makes it out of the bathroom to Dumbledore's office without incident. When she gets inside she acts quick; Dumbledore can be here any minute and this potion won't last long (she couldn't get enough hair from Fleming on such short notice). "Ah, good afternoon," she greets the portraits on the wall, "Headmaster hasn't been here recently has he?"

A few of the portraits shake their heads but don't speak.

"This doesn't make this any easier. There has been some possible new information about the assailant at the match last night. I have some tears that may shine some light on what happened. I would wait for Professor Dumbledore but this is urgent, our students may be at risk." Heather gestures to the pensive, "do you mind?"

One of the portraits say, "of course not, if the manner is urgent and he can't be found at the moment…"

"Thank you, this is a huge help." Heather holds a steady hand and drops some of the tears into the pensive; they fall into the water in black drops that reach out in random directions. Heather ducks her head in—

4

Hogwarts, 1942

"I was in the library the other night, in the restricted section," Riddle walks towards Slughorn, "I read something rather odd about a bit of rare magic, it's called, as I understand it, a horcrux."

Slughorn looks faint. "I beg your pardon?"

"A horcrux, I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

Slughorn frowns, "I'm not sure what you're reading Tom but this is very dark stuff."

"Which is why I came to you."

"…a horcrux is an object in which a person can seal part of their soul."

"But," Tom moves closer, "I don't understand how that works, sir."

"One takes their soul and splits part of it inside an object. By doing so you are protecting it should you be attacked and your body destroyed."

"Protect it."

"So that part of your soul that's hidden can live on." Slughorn says shakily, "in other words, you can not die."

Tom soaks in the information and turns to stare into the fire. "And how does one split his soul, sir?"

"I think you already know the answer to that Tom."

"Murder?"

"Yes. Killing rips the soul apart because it's a violation against nature."

Tom hums, "can you only split the soul once? For instance, seven?"

"Seven?" Slughorn splutters, "Merlin's beard Tom, isn't it bad enough to consider killing one person? But to rip the soul into seven pieces…this is all hypothetical isn't it Tom? All academic?"

Tom turns around, smiling, "of course sir, it'll be our little secret."

5

Heather masks her expression and tries to keep her hands steady as she closes the vial. She smiles sullenly at the portraits, "just another perspective of the attack but not from the angle we need. Sorry to have wasted you time ladies, gentlemen. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Heather swiftly exits the room and tries not to run through the halls. "Professor Fleming," she stops right at the corner and does a slow turn, "I thought you left after you session with Miss Chandler?"

"Headmaster," she says politely, "how are you?"

"Enjoying this lovely Saturday. But, it's strange of you to be here longer than necessary. I know you have tea with Hagrid around this time so I'm curious as to—"

"Professor, there you are." Veronica runs up beside her, "ah, hello Headmaster. Sorry to interrupt."

Dumbledore nods, "not a problem Miss Sawyer."

Veronica smiles at her, "you promised to meet me in the library to help me find a topic to write about for my charms essay, remember?"

"Yes. I was just on my way there when I got a little side tracked," Heather smiles at Dumbledore, "if you'll excuse us?"

"Of course. Don't let me get in the way of learning. Sorry to keep you."

Heather follows Veronica to the library. They're almost there when Veronica pulls them into a dark corridor. "What the—"

"I know it's you, Heather." She folds her arms and scowls up at her, "almost getting caught like that. You should at least know her schedule before you try to impersonate her."

Heather doesn't budge, "I don't know what you're—" on cue, the Polyjuice wares out, "shoot," she tugs on the oversized clothes.

"Come on," Veronica yanks her into an empty broom closet.

Heather snaps, "what the heck Veronica? Why did you drag me here, and how'd you know I was Fleming?"

Veronica looks afraid to say, "because I'm the reason you were able to see Slughorn's memories."

"How did you—"

"Who do you think created a distraction long enough for Dumbledore to stay away from his office? A fight between a couple second years broke out and kept him busy. Someone landed a hex and started the whole thing."

Heather draws her wand and steps forward until it's stabbing Veronica in the chest. "And how did you know I was in there to see Slughorn's memories?" For all she knows, the shadow could be possessing Veronica.

Veronica looks away. "I never left this morning…I was going to leave but I was curious—but more worried! I'm sorry, but, I couldn't let you do this alone."

Heather suddenly feels tired. She lowers her wand in favor of running a hand through her wild locks.

"I don't need help—"

"You do—"

Heather snaps. "Not from you. Anybody but you."

Veronica looks like she's been slapped. "Why's that? Because I'm just a dirty mudblood who isn't good enough for—"

"No," Heather frowns, "because I care about you, idiot. If you hang around me it'll just put you in more danger, Veronica, trust me, this goes deeper than we could've imagined."

Veronica asks, "what did you see? In his memories."

Heather shakes her head.

"I can help!" Veronica begs, "let me help you."

"…horcruxes," she whispers after a moment of contemplation, "Riddle was a student of Slughorn's and during his sixth year he asked about them. Basically someone can split their soul apart into an object by killing someone, if protected correctly they could live forever. Riddle asked if a soul could be split apart seven times."

Veronica gasps, "seven?"

"They said my parents died killing him, they protected me from him that's why I have this scar," she rubs the mark on her head, it burns, as if it knows she's talking about it. "If they knew about the horcruxes and destroyed them that can be the reason he went after them."

"You don't think they got them all?"

Heather shrugs, "seven is a lot…maybe the shadow is after me because I have the other horcrux somewhere, a locket or something. Riddle can be revived if dark magic is bred into the object. Then there's no stopping him from making all the horcruxes he wants. He'd be unstoppable."

Veronica hugs herself, "then what do we do?"

"Look for the horcrux before the shadow gets to it. Then destroy it."

Veronica grabs her hand, "we look for it you mean. I'm with you."

Heather pulls away. "I don't want that."

"In which way?"

"Both." Heather forces herself to say, "it was a mistake."

Veronica's face twists, "you really think that?"

Heather rubs her face with a groan. "No, of course not, I'm sorry. But it's still wrong—"

"How?"

"My brother adores you. He has since forever and he was supposed to ask you out at the game but I ruined everything with that stupid shadow. I betrayed him."

"JD?" Veronica shakes her head, "even if he would've asked the answer would be the same. He's not the one I want. You know that, and this isn't wrong. What we have, what we've always had, is real. You know me and I know you." She laces their hands together and drops her forehead to Heather's.

"Veronica," she pulls away when their noses brush, "I can't do this to my brother, not again. I've already torn his life apart once and I won't do it twice. And you're staying away from this—"

"You need me." Veronica says when Heather tries to leave, "I'm the only one who can see the shadow."

"I don't want you to get hurt."

"You're hurting me now. Just, let me decide for myself. I'll just keep an eye out. I won't even get involved with any of the espionage stuff. I already know about the horcruxes."

Heather yields, "fine. But I'm serious, I don't want you putting yourself in danger. Just tell me if anything is out of the ordinary. And we don't involve Duke and Mac until we have solid evidence on this thing."

Veronica's smile blinds her. "Yes! I won't let you down."

"Deal?" Heather holds out her hand because she doesn't trust her smile alone.

"Deal."

Veronica takes her hand and uses it to pull her in for a kiss. Heather is ashamed when she lets it last longer than it should but prides herself on being the first to pull away. "I said—"

"I'm just making our deal official." Veronica looks far too innocent.

"This can't happen again so just respect my choice, okay? And send my cloak back whenever you get a chance," Heather grabs the door knob but stops one more time, "and thanks for having my back with Dumbledore."

"Before you go, can I ask you something?"

Heather looks over her shoulder. "Within reason. Go ahead."

"Fourth year, I don't know if you remember this but…I got into a fight with Kurt trying to protect Martha. He was calling her names and I couldn't really stand back and let him do it. I'd been working on this hex and I was way too confident and didn't think he'd be smart enough to put up a shield. It bounced off and hit me, gave me—"

"Antlers," Heather finishes, "yeah I remember."

Veronica smiles. "I bumped into you by the windowsill, perfect view of the courtyard. That day…were you watching me?"

Heather rolls her eyes. "I watched you lose against Kurt's crew like every other time."

"You were watching me. And when I bumped into you, usually you would yell, or threaten me, but you just picked up your book and didn't say anything. Why's that?"

Heather shrugs. "You were already stuck with those antlers for the rest of the day, with a crippled pride, so I just didn't think it was necessary to add fuel to the fire. No biggie."

"And all the times you watched me fight likely to lose, what'd you think?"

"I thought you were an idiot." Heather deadpans.

Veronica steps closer. "And when I won?"

Heather blindly twists the door knob to slip out. "Don't forget to return my cloak."

"I think you were happy. When I won." Veronica leans against the doorframe with a smug grin, "it makes since, right? No one watches something repeatedly when they're sure of the outcome every time."

"You're thinking about this too much—"

"You smiled," she says softly, "when I punched Kurt fourth year and sent him running I saw you. There was a crowd around me, praising me, but I saw you sitting on the brick with Mac and Duke. They were shocked, wondering what had happened, but you were smiling."

Heather remembers but doesn't dare give Veronica the pleasure in knowing she's right. "I'll see you in class, Sawyer."

Heather doesn't want to think too much into just how much attention Veronica's been giving her over the years. How well she must know her. Heather shakes her head. It can't happen. Family comes first.