Chapter Five: History Revealed
After a full day of classes, the common room was fairly empty. Theseus joined Freya and Evie at the couches, the leather cushions soft enough for her to sink into them. A game of Gobstones was laid out in front of them atop the coffee table, the occasional clink and slide resonating throughout the room. Each player competed by knocking the other's gobstones in and out of a circle. Freya was playing against Theseus, Lucretia and Oliver where off somewhere unknown, and Atrius—well, he was hovering around here somewhere.
Evie threw her head back and laughed as one of Freya's losing gobstones spat a putrid liquid in her face. "Didn't you say you were good at this game?" Evie said. "Or was Scorpius just that good when you played against him?"
"Nose down, Evie," Freya warned.
Theseus chuckled, sitting just down the couch from Evie. A teapot floated between them, pouring a bit of tea into Evie's cup as well as his. "Honestly, the way you two talk to one another—I'd never guess you were friends," he said.
Freya shrugged. "At least Evie bites back. Everyone else is scared of me."
"And for good reason," he said.
Freya stuck her tongue out at him. "Prickly personalities run in our family," she said, then her eyes jumped across the room. "You'd know all about that—wouldn't you, cousin?"
Evie didn't have to look back to know who Freya was talking to.
"What are you going on about?" Atrius muttered as he came around the couch and situated himself between herself and Theseus, to Evie's surprise. Not the free spot beside Freya on the other couch. The neighboring cushion depressed with his weight.
"Talking about having prickly personalities," Freya chirped. "Which you'd know all about."
Atrius swung one leg over the other and smirked. "Thought I was the ray of sunlight in this group."
"That would be Oliver," Theseus said.
"No—Oliver's the menace," said Freya. "I'm the comic relief. Theseus is the peacekeeper. Cousin, you're the emotional cactus."
"So, what's Evie?" Atrius said, then looked at her.
Evie had been staring into the massive fireplace, distracting herself with the ornate design and vastness of the pit. She blinked at the mention of her name, slowly looking at Atrius over her shoulder. "What?"
"What purpose do you serve in this group?"
Before she could answer (or even think about it), Atrius produced his wand from his pocket, and Evie instantly flinched a little at the sight of it. Atrius glanced at her, his silver gaze lingering on hers for a moment—but he didn't wear his signature look of discontent. Instead, he observed her carefully and then slowly, very slowly, lifted the wand into the air and waved it at the teacup. The porcelain clinked as the cup lifted into the air and floated toward him, with Evie watching without interference. His expression turned deadpan as he reached out with both hands to take it.
"That's Evie's cup," Theseus said.
Atrius paused for a split second, then brought the cup to his lips and sipped. "Is it?" he muttered.
Evie made a face.
And then he sipped again.
"Do you want to stop drinking from it now?" Theseus added, noting Evie's distress.
"Is she ill?" Atrius said.
"What?"
"Is Evie ill?"
"No," Evie was the one to answer. "She's not."
He arched a brow. "Then I see no problem."
Evie exchanged a glance with Freya. The girl's eyes were narrow with the same confusion Evie felt. Still, there was also a glimmer of amusement and—curiosity.
Evie looked back at Atrius. "You do realize my mouth's been on that, do you?"
This time, Atrius glanced down at the edge of the cup. Then he took another sip.
Fine, then. Evie rolled her eyes and pressed her back into the couch, digging the entire side of her body into the armrest. Atrius's weight beside her had the cushions sloping slightly in his direction. Still, Evie grappled the armrest with some defiance, swinging a leg over to cement her body in place. She focused on the basket of logs beside the fireplace this time, counting seven in total. The rustic candle stand upon the cupboard behind it had five candlesticks…
"Evie?" Evie turned toward Theseus at the sound of her name, looking across Atrius to see him. "Do you want to play?"
"I'm fine. Thanks."
It was hard pretending that Atrius wasn't sitting right there between them. Despite his leanness, he was so damnably tall. "I'll play," he said at that moment. "Thanks for asking, mate."
"You're so welcome."
Atrius slid his gaze toward Evie and said, "Hard to believe you're not in the mood."
He'd spoken to her—again?
Atrius held her stare when she pinned him with a look, his silver eyes flickering gold in the light of the fire, creamy skin visible in the ambient lighting. While Evie may not have verbally responded, her body yielded a familiar reaction. Palms sweating, muscles tensing as flashbacks began of the last time they'd really stared at one another like this. Facing off. Evie could still picture the movement of his lips, the colorless spell that erupted from his wand, setting shards to her body…
Damn it all. Deep down, she was still afraid of him.
Evie sat up straight, trying to conceal her reaction. What was the point of this?
"Leave her alone, Atrius," said Freya, her tone far more clipped than Evie might have expected. And when Evie glanced back to see Atrius's reaction, there was an inexplicable emotion scrawled tightly across his features—gone the second her eyes met his.
"Fine," he said.
Evie looked away. Off in the corner of the room, sitting around the table hard at work, a group of Slytherins had sat down to work. Only one among them didn't turn away immediately—Serana Bagshot was her name. A rather petite girl with delicate features. It stood out, the way she perused Atrius's face, dragging her light eyes back down to her book. Her black hair curtained her face on either side.
"So, Evie, when will you be putting your name into the Goblet?" Freya chimed pointedly from across the table, waving her wand to send another gobstone flying at one of Theseus's.
Evie swallowed thickly, her words still a bit jumbled inside her head. "Tomorrow. After potions."
"What about you, Atrius?" Freya asked without looking in his direction. Evie could smack her.
Atrius's eyes fluttered toward his cousin, his expression conveying the same thing Evie was thinking—what was Freya's aim in these chaotic lines of conversation? There wasn't a soul in the Wizarding World that didn't know the Lestrange reputation of sharp tongues and fiery personalities, but this? A call for utter chaos. Perhaps that's simply who Freya was.
Evie loved her all the same, for all the good qualities she possessed. Even if a layer of conflict-loving dust did cover those qualities occasionally.
Instead of answering, Atrius rose from the couch and left the common room, his footsteps echoing as he ascended to the dormitories. At that, Serana Bagshot packed her things and left, as well.
Wonderful—Evie could finally breathe again.
"Thanks for that," Evie said, shooting Freya a seething look. "What're you playing at, anyway? Are you honestly trying to start a fight?"
Freya straightened pointedly and arched a wicked brow. "I don't appreciate being accused of such things."
"Well, it's either that or you're genuinely trying to sew some discord into our lives—out of boredom, no less."
Theseus sucked in a breath, running the tip of his wand through his hair. He really didn't seem like he wanted to be there, and Evie was starting to feel the same.
"Well, you already know how much your life concerns me," Freya said, acquiescing with a touch of bitterness. She shrugged. "But fine. If it bothers you that much, I'll stay out of it."
"Stay out of what?" Evie was genuinely confused.
"Nothing." She sighed, then from the couch. A wave of her wand, and all the gobstones scattered outside the circle. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. See you later."
Theseus and Evie watched as Freya made her way out of the common room, going up to the dormitories.
"I really don't understand her sometimes," Evie said with a sigh.
Theseus looked at her, looking like he was refraining from a remark or two. "The cup was the first time you've spoken to Atrius in three years."
"So?"
A slow shrug. "So, if I had to guess, I'd say everyone's excited that the two of you are talking again. Oliver, Freya, and I, leastways."
"I'm not 'talking' to him," Evie said as she sat back. "You make it sound like we were friends before all this. But, even more, he's acting like it."
"There's a reason to everything Atrius does," Theseus said, glancing at the teacup. "Not a single thing he does for no reason. Not one."
Evie blinked. "Do you mean something by that?"
Theseus looked away, suddenly reluctant to clarify. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he finally said, "The last time he made a decision without thinking… a hefty price was paid. And now, he neither says nor does anything without giving it triple the amount of thought. He's smart—that mind of his works fast, but it also works hard."
A pause of silence. "You do him justice by saying all that."
"I wasn't trying to do him justice. If anything, you might take it as a…hint, of sorts."
"A hint for what?"
"That there are no accidents with Atrius. No coincidences."
"Are you saying there's extensive thought behind petty annoyances like drinking my tea and effectively inviting me to play gobstones?"
"I'm trying to get you to understand that you don't have to be so afraid of him anymore."
Evie narrowed her eyes. "Did he ask you to convey that to me?"
"Atrius never asks anyone for anything," Theseus said. "And anyway, I wouldn't want to get in the middle of it if he did. Suppose there's anything I might rationalize to you about Freya's behavior. In that case, it's that she wants this crossfire between the two of you to end. Of course, we all do—but if Atrius has any ulterior motives, we'll find out soon enough."
"I just want him to leave me alone," Evie said. "He's never even apologized for… what happened."
A pause of silence. "I know that was traumatizing for you," Theseus went on. "But Atrius has his own side of it. I doubt he likes revisiting it in his own mind, and I believe that's why he hasn't apologized."
She slid him a look. "What's 'his side' of it?"
"The day it happened—Freya went with you to the hospital wing, but Oliver and I stayed with him." A dark look came over his features. "Oliver won't talk about it, even to this day. Lucretia is…another story. But we were all there."
Evie waited for him to continue, watching the growing distance in his eyes, floating back to the memory. Then, when he didn't go on, Evie pushed, "What happened to him?"
Theseus looked at me. "Oliver and I followed him. At first, we thought he was wandering down the hallways in a daze, but then he stumbled into the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. God only knows what he believed to find in there—it was late at night if you recall—and we were alone.
"He began pounding against Professor Hornette's door, screaming and cursing some inane nonsense about his wand. It was unlike anything I'd ever seen from him, and I didn't understand it—haven't seen anything like it since," he said. "Half of what he said made no sense. The rest sounded like the words were being shaken from his body. Even as he started hitting the door with both hands, Hornette didn't answer. It was just enough time for us to pull him away and get him back into the hall. From there, he went straight to the lavatory on the sixth floor, and…."
Evie tilted her head to get a better look at his expression. It was darker than she'd ever seen it. "And what?"
"And it was the first time I'd ever seen him cry."
Evie felt frozen in place. "Atrius was…crying?"
"Yes, but not in the manner you'd imagine," Theseus explained, his expression filling with the memory. "No sobs were coming out of him. Only tears. He scrubbed his hands raw until they were bled into the sink, and even then, he wouldn't stop. It took mine and Oliver's combined strength to get him away from that thing. He fought us every second and then snapped his wand in half in a fit of rage. That was when Lucretia found us." Theseus's voice fell to a murmur, "I've…never seen her the way she was with him that day. Lu had him against the pillars within seconds, a hand at his neck. Said his weakness was disgusting."
Evie's heart twisted as she pictured it. She didn't know what to say.
Theseus went on, "After that, he was sent home for a week. When he came back, he was…different. Calmer than when he left, in the most unnerving way. I think some part of him calcified in those moments Lucretia had him. And that was the beginning of his coldness."
Evie considered all that for a long—very long—moment. "He didn't know, did he?"
"Know what?"
"That the spell would do that to me."
Theseus sighed. "I don't think so, but I don't know. Atrius doesn't talk about what happened. Don't look into it, Evie. You shouldn't tell anyone I told you this," Theseus said. "I don't think Atrius is proud of any part of what happened. I'm only telling you this now because you're talking to him again, and I think we've all taken that as some sort of sign."
Evie fell silent a moment. "It's not a sign of anything," she said. "There's nothing between us to reconcile. We weren't even friends back then… but thank you for telling me. I won't tell anyone we had this talk—wouldn't want to see Atrius's punishment for you."
"Yeah," Theseus said. "You never know what to expect from Atrius Malfoy."
