Things are progressing well, as planned. I received more questions while writing this chapter so I'm going to provide some lovely answers and hopefully make myself understood.
Q: Will the owl actually drink the potion?
A: No, the owl does not drink the potion.
Q: Why is the Sorting Hat so indiscreet? Why was Ron sorted before Harry? Does Snape have asthma or some speech impediment? Why is the Hufflepuff common room moved from the kitchens to a tower?
A: The Sorting hat is acting the same way it did with Harry in the first book which in essence is quite indiscreet. That was a mistake of mine that I actually fixed now so Ron gets sorted after Harry in the first chapter. Snape does not have asthma, I was trying to write in his dramatic pauses but gave up as I decided to leave you, the readers, to interpret it how you will. The Hufflepuff common room was changed from near the kitchens to show the distance between the rest of the school and Slytherin. Because they share the same castle does not mean that they like the Serpents and since this AU is Dark then it is also meant to demonstrate the ostracizing of the students, mainly Harry, Hermione and Ron as they are the ones that 'went against the grain.'
Onwards!
Harry stood there, unsure that he had heard correctly. Had professor Snape really just said he was the new seeker? Marcus looked at Harry again, giving him a once over before nodding. "He's got the frame for it, seems light…" The captain had a thick accent but Harry understood him nonetheless even if his r's were overly rolled. Still, Harry was thrilled. He was the new seeker! Marcus thought for a moment. "He can fly, right?" Snape looked at Harry and nodded. "He's… adequate." The professor said before nodding once at Marcus. "Thank you Mr. Flint, you may return to your class now." The captain shrugged and opened the door just as a dull explosion went off within the class. "Watch out!" Called someone from the inside before the door shut behind the large captain, muffled shouts coming through the wood before Snape and Harry walked off again. The professor was deep in thought as they walked and Harry glanced out the windows as they made their way down the halls. "Well Potter…" Said Snape, stopping and turning to Harry now that they had made their way back to the open grounds, some of the students gliding slowly in the air since while Harry had been gone, Madame Hooch had returned from the infirmary and had continued with the lesson.
Harry looked at the professor, blinking freely. "Sir?" Snape gestured to the students. "Go now. And welcome to the team." Harry nodded before awkwardly making his way back to the class. Snape looked at him go, irked by the resemblance the boy had to his father. Every day he saw Potter he could not distinguish him from James. Only the eyes were different, more pleasant. Snape shook his head and stalked off back to his classroom. Fairly soon it would be an advanced potions lesson with Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and he needed to prepare an example potion for that days class. Ron and Hermione were amongst several of the students who noticed Harry's return and they walked to the side of the group to meet him. Ron reached him first, Hermione making sure that no one would accidentally, or not, swoop down and hit them. Draco had seemed livid when his power-play had backfired and she could not see him anywhere, having lost sight of him as he threw away his broom and left the group while muttering about how his father would hear about this.
Ron stopped as soon as he reached Harry and looked at Snape. "Did you get in trouble, mate?" He asked, sure that Snape had taken Harry away to berate him or chastise him. Harry shook his head, smiling. "No, he actually wanted to tell me that-" At that Hermione reached them and pushed them down, it seemed that it was her turn to help them out. Another student, one of Malfoy's friends it seemed, had swooped down and almost crashed into them. Shaken, Harry, Ron and Hermione stood back up, brushing grass off their robes before turning to each other. That had been close. "Bloody hell…" whispered Ron before turning to Hermione. "Thanks…" He shivered and looked at the Slytherin who was flying over and laughing. It was Goyle, his fat frame barely fit on the stick of the broom. "Wanker…" Ron said, even though Madame Hooch had not noticed a thing as she was busy instructing a pair of Gryffindors on how to correctly get dirt out of the straws that formed the back end of their brooms; many of the students had accidentally landed straw first on the ground and dirtied the brooms.
Hermione shook her head and looked about. She had no luck when it came to flying, as her broom had ignored her commands to rise to her hand and had been forced to grab it off the ground, much to her chagrin and the entertainment of a few of the pure-bloods of the group. To make matters worse, when instructed on how to hover she had tried and barely lifted a few inches off the ground before the broom dropped her back down. "Class is almost finished and I had no luck flying." Ron and Harry nodded and she shrugged. "I don't mind, flying is not my thing anyway." Ron turned to Harry. "Well, what was it?" Harry looked at him, confused before realization dawned on him and he remembered what it was that he wanted to tell them. "Right… Snape wanted to talk to me. He saw my flying and took me to meet the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. I'm the new seeker." His two friends looked impressed. "Harry that's awesome!" Said Ron, punching his shoulder to which Harry chuckled, rubbing it. Hermione grinned and shrugged. "You'll do great Harry, everyone was impressed with your flying. Even the other Gryffindors said it was a good display. Malfoy was livid too, stalked off and went somewhere else."
Ron laughed. "Oh I bet he's going to be happy to hear that Harry is the new seeker. He won't be upset or anything of the sort." Hermione turned to Ron and chuckled, shaking her head. The class ended and they went on through their day, finding that Malfoy had returned to his old circle of friends and avoided the three as if they had the plague. They did not mind, however. They had each other and that was sufficient. On went a few days without incident, a welcome change to the routine they had gone through. The voices did not return and one night, Ron left the dormitory to find the spot where he had stashed the books he had taken from the Forbidden Section, eager to know what was so important about the knowledge they contained. Throughout the days he had been nervous that someone would discover them and trace them back to him, as his name was embroidered in the inside of the jacket's neck but when he reached the bed he had occupied in the infirmary, he felt relieved.
The bundle was still there, underneath the wooden frame. He grabbed it, shouldering it and turning around, walking for a while in the dark hallways before making his way upwards, rather than downwards. He intended on using the astronomy tower as it was secluded and rather private; if anyone asked, he could always say that that he was studying the stars and hope that they did not check his books. The stairs moved slowly, rumbling and sending vibrations up to his teeth, his vision tripling before the steps arrived at their destination and he could walk up. The path was lonely as for some reason he had not seen any prefects making their rounds. Ron picked up his pace, almost reaching his destination when he froze. A prefect was making her way down the hallway and if he did not hide he'd be spotted.
Ron held the bag tighter to his body and thought of hiding behind the suit of armor to his left, but he quickly dismissed the notion as it was a foolish idea and had too many chances of backfiring. He looked around; there were no doors nearby, just some more suits of armor and a vase. The prefect was still a little ways away so Ron had to think quickly. He threw the jacket into the recipient, the large pottery urn barely shifting as the books thudded within it and he crouched behind it. There was some space behind it right next to the wall and as the girl walked by, Ron shifted his positioning behind the urn, keeping himself in her blind spot as she slowly made her way past his hiding place. One of the portraits, a wizened old man who held a hearing horn grumbled and startled the prefect with a snap. "What are you doing?! We are trying to sleep!" He said, the girl whirling to him before sighing. "Apologies, sir." She said with a soft smile, flicking her wand and whispering the word 'Nox.' The light went out and Ron relied on his hearing to know where she was. He stealthily shifted around as her soft footsteps receded away and he sighed, his heart beating like mad within his chest. 'That was close…' He thought before standing up and looking at the urn. 'Now what do I do…' He thought.
Hermione was laying awake in her bed, the soft breathing of her female housemates filling the air. She got up and pushed her covers from on top of her legs, swinging them to the side and dropping to the floor, crouched as she did not wish to make an inordinate amount of noise. The room was very dark but Hermione had memorized the positioning of all the items that were there. To anybody else it would have been as if Hermione had the ability to see in the dark. In reality, it was more along the lines of Hermione having a map in her brain that had the exact location of everything in the room. She grabbed her cauldron which she had previously packed with ingredients earlier that evening. Hefting it up, she held it close to her chest, slowly walking down the steps and entering the common room which at that time was understandably empty. Hermione walked now, no longer having to hide, and opened the door, the chill air of the dungeons blowing past her and making a few torches sputter with the draft. She shivered and deposited the cauldron on the floor before grabbing a coat that hung near the entrance, pulling it on and making her way along the tunnels.
She had never done anything like this before. It felt exhilarating and terrifying at the same time and she loved it. So long had she been the perfect student that just a little bit of rebelliousness felt good. Not too much though as she still wanted to play it safe; she had heard that the prefects of all houses patrolled the halls of the castle and that any student caught out of bed would get many points taken away from his or her house. That was something that Hermione could not permit herself to do, so she made sure she went stealthily and silently through the stairs and hallways of Hogwarts. She was lucky, the path she had devised contained no prefects patrolling it, as it was an abandoned area of the castle and no one ever went to it.
Hermione reached the entrance to the abandoned lavatories, pushing open the doors and flinching as they opened, the hinges covered in dust and squealing open. She looked about before entering, closing the door with another soft squeal and standing up-right now that she did not need to hide herself. She had no idea why the bathrooms were abandoned but she decided she did not want to let it get to her head. It was a private spot and she needed to brew the potion sooner rather than later. The same girl had bumped into her and called her a mudblood again, which seemed to be a rather funny thing to say before her friends. Hermione was tired of it, so she was taking matters into her own hands. The potion was of her own design and if she had done the measurements correctly then it would work to her advantage.
She cast a fire spell into the empty bowl of one of the toilets, throwing a few pieces of wood into it so that it would burn strong by the time she had filled up the cauldron with water. Surprisingly, the taps were working well and she filled her cauldron up to halfway with water, huffing and puffing as she made her way with the now heavier item in her hands. She placed it slowly on the floor and stretched her back before lifting it again and somewhat noisily dropping it into the toilet. Thankfully, the porcelain held and the fire licked at the underbelly of the metal, the water heating up as Hermione gripped several small bags that had been within the cauldron earlier. One contained cutting utensils, sharp knives and a small mallet with which to crush ingredients. The others contained dried and powdered Fragla root, crushed Juniper flowerets, the vines of the Devil's Wit plant and its thorns, all of which had been finely chopped. Then was the troll's skin and hair. She had been doing some research on trolls after the incident and had found that they really did have many properties that could be used in potions. Suddenly, off the corner of her eyes, Hermione thought she saw something move but when she turned around she saw nothing. Gripping her wand and revising some spells of defense that she had learned, she stood up and said softly, "Hello…?"
Ron had less luck in his own endeavors as he had failed to realize that once he threw the bag into the large urn it would be much harder to grab the books. Still, there was no need to worry as he was safe now from the prying eyes of any prefect. For a while, Ron tried jumping and reaching into the opening of the urn but it was no use. He wondered if he could simply turn the urn on its side and reach in but he looked at the large vase before dismissing the notion. It was much too heavy and he doubted that he could lift it up again. Lift… He felt really foolish and somewhat dumb at that moment. Ron grabbed his wand and scanned both ends of the hallway before reaching in and hoping that he was pointing at the bag and not the urn itself. He was sure he could lift the books but the urn would be a much more troubling undertaking. He calmed himself and waved his wand, casting the spell as he pointed the tip into the urn. So far, he did not think he had cast it on the urn itself so he walked back and lifted his wand, the tip angling itself upwards as his wrist strained, essentially using one hand to lift up the heavy modified jacket. Ron tried it still, concentrating on the spell as he saw the tip of the scroll begin to show.
Using both hands now, he lifted the bag and quickly grabbed it, pressing it to his chest and hastily making his way up the tower before he was spotted. The door was unlocked and even if it had been, Ron would have simply used his bowtruckel to open it. He walked in, the smell of incense subtle though still noticeable as he panted softly, arms straining from the effort of carrying the heavy load up the countless steps that led to the Divination room which connected to the Astronomy observation deck. He was unfamiliar with the place but managed to find the thin ladder that corkscrewed up to the observation platform. No one was bound to be up there and so Ron could read in peace. The steps made no noise as he walked up though the metal itself bent slightly beneath his weight. The moon shone bright and it illuminated the open observatory, a very pleasant breeze blowing through as it had no windows. A large and very intricate telescope was held aloft by several support structures but there was a generous expanse of floor that Ron could use.
He knelt down and undid the knot which held the book and scrolls in place, though the jacket ripped apart with a sharp snap as its threads which were already rather worn finally broke. Not one to lose time, Ron grabbed the parchment first as it was the smallest and he wanted to see what it had to offer. He undid the twine that held it and tossed it aside, the sheet unfolding out beneath his hands with a soft rustle. The moon was bright enough and Ron could see what was written, save for one thing. There was nothing written on it. He grabbed it, confused as he turned it around but there was nothing on the back either. He was mystified, as the voices had spoken with urgency for him to grab it. Maybe he had grabbed the wrong parchment, or maybe… At this Ron looked at the sheet with suspicion. Maybe it was enchanted so that it would not show what was written in it. That would make sense considering how easy it had been to take it from the Forbidden Section or perhaps it had to do with the fact that it was sensitive information, Ron pointed at it with his wand. "Revelio!" He said and looked at the parchment again. A few words shimmered into presence and he squinted to distinguish them.
'Not that easy…' Read the words before vanishing again. Ron huffed, somewhat frustrated. So this is what the voices had meant when they said to find the secrets hidden within. He supposed it made sense, if the information was worth anything then the writers would have made sure they made it as hard as possible to gain the knowledge they shared. A sort of test, one could say. He leaned to one side, grabbing the twine and bound up the parchment before replacing it for the scroll of Bahamen, rolling it out on the floor. This one had words written that he could see however he could not make heads or tails of them as they were written in ancient runes. Ron huffed once more, eyes scanning the writings as he turned the wooden sticks that formed the supports of the scroll. He knelt there, hunched over the rustling parchments for a few minutes before quitting and rolling up the sticks together. He did not yet know the language and he'd need a translator in order to understand what was written. He switched the scroll then for the large book, its triple locks glinting beneath the pale moonlight. He was unsure of what would become of the success of his trip if the book was also undecipherable. He supposed he could make a trip to the Forbidden Section the next night and return the items or maybe to grab some books to aid in his studies. Ron ran a finger along the spine of the book as he looked out the observation deck, taking in the view of the lake glinting beneath the moon. This was his last chance of having a successful night.
Hermione was somewhat frightened at that moment. Her fingers quivered around her wand as she walked slowly along the tiled floor. She knew that the area was abandoned but not why and she refused to let it get to her. "Hello?" She called again, a little louder this time. Again, off the corner of her eye she saw movement and she quickly turned to it. Again, there was nothing there. Hermione felt some fear begin to grow in her and she suppressed a shiver as she slowly walked backwards. "No need to be afraid, no need to be afraid…" She said to herself, the mantra helping her calm down slightly. She then froze in place, her body shaking slightly as she came to a realization. It could be behind her.
"Hello!" Said a high pitched and rather girly voice. Hermione shrieked, whirling around before panting in relief. It was just a ghost, a girl sporting pigtails and some round glasses that looked much like Harry's. She was floating up and down, a manic grin plastered on her face before turning into a frown. "Why are you doing here?" She demanded to know, leaning over Hermione who in reflex backed away slowly. "J-just brewing a potion… I'm Hermione." She said nervously. "I didn't think anyone was here so I came here to work alone." The ghost cocked her head, pouting. "So, you didn't come to visit me then?" Hermione shook her head slowly before stopping. "Well… You know my name now but I don't know yours…" The ghost gasped, the sound high pitched and loud. Hermione looked at the doors, almost expecting to see all the prefects rushing into the room and deducting points. The ghost floated up and lay on the border of one of the stalls. "I'm Moaning Myrtle…" She said, kicking her feet as they passed through the wood of the stall.
Hermione blinked once, almost sure she had misheard. "Moaning Myrtle?" She repeated slowly before watching as the ghost nodded, giggling as she did so. "Why moaning?" She wondered before realizing that the water was bubbling in the cauldron. "Can we talk while I work?" She asked, sitting on the floor and grabbing one of the bags. Opening it, she grabbed some of the crushed Juniper flowerets and sprinkled them into the water, the air growing sweet with the scent of flowers in bloom. She threw in a few hairs and the air quickly shifted from sweet to acrid as the liquid thickened, now bubbling softly as the fire kept licking at the cauldron. Myrtle floated to her side, sniffing and startling Hermione. "What are you making? It doesn't smell nice at all." She complained. Hermione shrugged, adding some powdered Fragla root. The ghost was not an expected occurrence but Hermione would rather have her company than anybody else's at the moment. "It's um… a skin potion." She said, stirring the Fragla and letting it dissolve slightly into the brew. She did not want to stink up the bathroom with the troll hairs and skin but they were important for her plan to work.
Myrtle floated and dipped her ghostly hand in the potion, squealing at the heat and floating back up as she looked at Hermione, bored. "A potion for your skin?" She asked, smiling. "Not mine, someone… else's." Myrtle blew ghost air over Hermione who closed her eyes until it passed. "A friend?" Myrtle wondered as Hermione finished stirring, a soft vapor emanating from the hot liquid. She scooped up the remainder of the Fragla root and Juniper flowerets, tossing them in and letting the mix simmer with more heat. Hermione sighed and sat back down, looking at Myrtle. "No, Myrtle. They are not my friend. She's a bully…" She spat the word as if it tasted sour in her mouth. "She calls me a mudblood every time she sees me and whenever she bumps into me she always yells at me to get out of the way." Myrtle floated down now, placing her hands on Hermione's. "And what are you going to do to her?" She wondered. Hermione looked at the ghost and considered telling her the truth.
"I'm going to prove to her that she is not better than me simply because of her blood. Just because my parents are muggles does not mean that I am a bad witch!" She told the ghost, who nodded and encouraged her. "Let it out Hermione Granger. Let it all out." And Hermione did. She had trusted Draco to be a friend but he was just like the rest of students at the schools she'd gone to. The only ones she could count on were Harry and Ron, as they had saved her life from the troll. Harry had faced Draco when he was making fun of a student and embarrassing their house before the rest of the class, causing Draco to exit in a fit. Hermione looked at the ghost again. She then realized why she was called Moaning Myrtle and why the bathrooms were abandoned. No one came here to talk to her or to keep her company because no one wanted to. Hermione came to the conclusion that ghosts had to feel lonely at times as in essence it was like being immortal but without a body. Moaning Myrtle looked young so she had to have died either recently, which was a terrifying thought, or many years ago and thus she was understandably sad and alone.
Hermione took a breath before composing herself. She was not used to telling people about her issues or about her feelings and this felt, well… good. Gripping the Devil's Wit in one hand, she let it fall into the bubbling interior of the cauldron, the vapors becoming green with sparkly silver shooting through the air. Now came the tricky part, which was adding the crushed thorns alongside the troll skin. If all went well then at the very bottom of the cauldron would lay some of the devil's wit vine, perfectly prepared for her purposes. If it did not… well, she would deal with it if that happened. Now she had to make sure not to overexcite the concoction. With her wand in her hand, she muttered a reduction spell for the fire which went from a soft orange to dull blue, the flames much smaller than before.
While Ron and Hermione were off adventuring, unaware of the each other's activities and both being extremely disrespectful to the rules, Harry lay in his bed, wide awake. "Ron?" He whispered softly but there came no response, just the soft breathing of sleeping boys. Harry stared at the darkness, taking deep breaths. He'd had a nightmare that haunted him, partly because it was frightening and partly because he did not understand it. He had found himself in a dark hallway, the bricks that lined it smooth as glass and darker than the void though they gleamed with the soft light of the torches that lined the walls. He had no control over his movements save for his head, which he could turn left and right freely. Walking on through the hall, he saw many doors, all black with gold inlays and firmly locked. As if he were walking in a daze, his body left a vapor trail behind it, grey with flecks of black that spiraled around before vanishing. If he was wearing shoes of any sort he could not tell, his footsteps made no sound.
Harry had heard some whispering ahead that grew more intense with each step he took towards the door at the end of the hall. They were unintelligible, gibberish to his ears and yet unnatural enough to have sent his heart racing, beating with force against his ribs. There had been a sense of fear about and he could not remember what was behind the door as when he had opened the door he had woken with a start, knowing that some unknown terror lay behind it but not what shape it took or what its intentions were. Harry shivered and kicked off the covers of his bed, making his way to the common room and resting on one of the couches, the comfortable leather creaking beneath his weight and sinking into the plush cushions. He tried sleeping there, eyes closing and for a while, he managed to sleep.
Ron considered his options, placing the book on the smooth stone floor and grabbing his bowtruckel, which twisted and shivered before looking up at him, slouched slightly and moving from side to side. It seemed to be somewhat sleepy so Ron decided to work fast and let it sleep again. "Alright so I need you to open three locks." The bowtruckel stared at him then glanced around, seemingly not understanding. "Um…" He placed it near the locks. "Open them…" Ron waited and eventually the plant made its way to the metal locks, digging one of its vines inside and popping it open with a click, the lock snapping open and almost catapulting the bowtruckel through the open ends of the observatory. Ron took a deep breath, glad to see that the diminutive being was still within his hand, moving it to the next lock which popped open with the same effect. He was about to move the book so that if the bowtruckel did fly off it would land somewhere nearby where Ron could retrieve it when someone walked up the steps and Ron panicked, shoving the plant into a pocket and placing the book behind him, pretending to stargaze and hoping against all hope that it was not his brother Percy. Only he knew what he would say to their parents if he found his 'way-ward' brother out of bed late at night. It had to be nearly midnight.
To Ron's relief and surprise, it was the Ravenclaw girl, Luna Lovegood or something. She walked to him and smiled, standing while she gave him a faint wave. "Hello Ron Weasley." Luna whispered, or maybe it was her normal voice; Ron had no idea. "Hello um… Luna." He said to her, somewhat nervous at the facts that she was so close to him and, most importantly, the forbidden books. She smiled and looked up at the sky, the moon bathing them in a silver glow as a cloud was blown away from it with the wind. "I like to come up here sometimes, when I feel lonely." She said and Ron had the feeling that she did not expect an answer, she was happy either way. Ron looked up and nodded quickly. "Yep it's very… shiny." He replied, stealthily moving the book beneath the remains of his jacket and hoping she did not notice.
She did, and turned to him. "What books are those?" Luna asked, standing and walking around him before grabbing the large book and hefting it up, humming softly as she appreciated the weight of it. It was not that large, the weight itself came from the bindings and the metal of the chains that tightly wrapped around it. Whoever had decided to forbid this book had not been messing around. Only now was Ron appreciating the fact that maybe, that book had been forbidden for a reason. Luna blew some of the dust from the cover and read the title out loud. "The Ancient Religion and its Gods…" She turned to Ron with a faint smile, which seemed to be the only face she knew to make. Ron shivered, unsure of what that meant but knowing that it could not be a pleasant reason. Luna walked to him and handed him the book, which he took and placed on the ground. "Ronald-" Ron waved a hand. "Just Ron…" She nodded and continued. "Ron, I didn't know that you practiced the ancient ways…" She seemed happy to have found this out rather that surprised. Ron looked at her with surprise in his eyes. The ancient ways, what did she mean? She pointed at the book and then back at Ron. "The Old Religion…" Luna said and at the mention of its name the clouds that had been threatening to cover the moon fell away, the celestial body seeming to glow brighter to the point where to the two on the astronomy tower it seemed that the sun was rising early. A silent thrum went through the floor and Ron looked around, very startled and rather impressed. If this was the sort of power that the Old Religion could hand him then he was interested. "Well... not exactly. I am rather curious about it though." He admitted to Luna who knelt before the book and patted the ground beside her, where Ron quickly joined her. She turned to him, smiling as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "My father and I are practitioners of it. Or rather, we are followers of the light. The Old Religion is huge on aspects." At this Ron held up a hand, causing Luna to stop as he reached for his bag before realizing that he had not brought it with him. He looked at Luna and nodded. "Sorry… I thought I had some writing stuff but I'll remember." Ron promised before sitting back down and listening to Luna speak.
"It was huge in aspects. We believe that to everything right there is something wrong. To something pretty there is something ugly. To love there is hate. To intelligence there is foolishness." Ron nodded, following along and interjecting with his thoughts. "So to everything there is an opposite?" Luna nodded and looked out at the moon, Ron followed her example and looked at the bright celestial body. "That's a nice way of putting it…" She sat in silence before nodding, extending her arms out to either side. "Think of nature and life as if they are a potions balance." She tilted one arm down while bringing the other one up. "If there is too much light then the night suffers. If there is too much darkness then the day suffers. Everything must be balanced." She thought for a moment, lowering her arms and tapping her chin. "There is a story by Beetle the Bard. Beetle was also a follower of the Old Religion and he put many of our teachings into his stories. My father has one of his original books in our house." She thought for a moment, as she could not remember the name of it. No matter, she did remember the story itself.
"Once upon a time, before birds sang when then sun rose, there were two siblings. The sister was loved by all Creation and she loved them back. Anywhere she went there was singing, light and joy. Food grew around her, fruit trees sprouting from her every step and peace radiated from her at all times. Cat and mouse ate together, side by side before her. Even though all loved her, no one knew what she looked like as she always wore a veil that covered her face, the fabric always obscuring her features and thus no one knew her, not really. Her brother was hated by everything that was but he did not hate them back. Everywhere he went there was silence, deep and oppressing. All life shriveled around him, grass and trees dried up, the earth he stepped on became barren and around him there was conflict and violence. With him there was no peace and all who saw him turned on each other in mad rages. Unlike his sister, his face was always bare and people always knew who he was. One day, sister and brother were talking together, both of them radiating their influences when she asked him a question. She wanted to know why people loved her even when they did not know her and hated him when they understood him. As his reply the brother stood and walked away, disappearing from sight. At first all of Creation celebrated and the sister as well forgot about her brother's mysterious departure, simply enjoying the beautiful things in life. Eventually though, it grew too tiresome. There was too much light, too much warmth, too much of everything that they had once thought to be good. They begged her to leave their side and threatened to hurt her if she did not. Bereft but understanding their reasons she left and found her brother, who sat atop a mountain and had been watching her for as long as he had been gone. She sat beside him and now asked him why everyone hated her when he had gone. His reply was simple and full of honesty. She was a beautiful lie and he was an ugly truth, and even the most beautiful of lies can become unbearable when that is all that exists."
Ron stared at Luna. He had clearly underestimated her by judging her on visual impressions alone. He was now sure that she was the help he needed in finding the power to change his family and the image they gave; plus, he had a feeling she could help with both the scroll and the parchment. He nodded, understanding some of the lesson that the story had shared. "So you're telling me that as much good there is in the world, there must be that much bad?" He wasn't confused, not necessarily. Luna nodded and Ron understood, then she continued speaking. "Good and bad are more modern concepts, Ron. What is good for some is always going to be bad for others and vice versa. If I were to take this book for myself, it would be good for me, as I would learn about my beliefs but it would be bad for you because you would not be able to learn. Think less of good versus bad and concentrate more on right versus wrong. The existence of evil is good for balance, yet there are those that would see evil completely eradicated. Then where would we be?" Ron understood then and gave his answer. "We would be like Creation when the brother left. We'd be happy at first but then we would grow miserable."
Luna sat beside him after standing for her story. "You begin to understand, Ron. That is good." She said looking up at the moon before turning to him. "You know, I think people find me strange but maybe that's just me." Ron chuckled and shrugged. "I think you are alright, Luna." She smiled and returned to stargazing. Ron was deep in thought however, the night having turned greatly to his profit and knowledge. Maybe he had not necessarily been meant to decipher the books yet. Maybe the voices had told him to grab them so that he could meet with Luna and have this conversation; though that got him thinking, long and hard. "Luna?" He asked her softly. She continued staring at the stars but she heard him. "Yes, Ron?" She replied as a comet shot overhead and Luna made a wish. The same wish she had wished for years every time she saw a shooting star. Ron did not notice, as he was trying to phrase the question correctly. He did not wish to seem odd but then he realized this was Luna Lovegood. His politeness aside, she was the oddest student of the entire school.
"Do you understand this language?" He asked her, grabbing the thick scroll and rolling it out as Luna leaned close to the parchment, scanning the continuous page that slid before her. She tapped her chin, biting her lip as she did so. She did recognize the language but it was old and obscure. It was one of the many dead languages of magic, as a matter of fact, and she felt as if she had seen a similar scroll before. Luna nodded and pointed at a rune, her finger hovering over the parchment as if it might sting her. "That's the Sanskrit rune for 'the.'" She said before sitting leaning on her arms and looking up. Ron looked at the page, eyebrows arched as he tried to make heads or tails of the words. It was all gibberish to him. "Is it easy to learn?" He said, a bit of hopefulness in his voice that vanished as Luna laughed softly. "I don't think so. My father has a book of the language that he uses to translate Sanskrit writings with and he's been doing it for a very long time. He and I believe that the old Hindu wizards could talk with animals so he's been buying books and translating them to find the spells used to get the skill." She said, grinning at the thought. "Any luck?" Asked Ron with curiosity though she shook her head as a reply, to which Ron nodded slowly. He did not think it would have been successful either. "Well I have another question, actually." Luna nodded and Ron pondered on how to ask her before preferring to be blunt about it.
"Is it bad to want to be powerful?" He asked her, unsure of what her reply would be. Luna looked at the moon, its brilliance shining into her eyes, so stark when compared with the darkness of the night. She shrugged before turning to Ron. "I don't believe in good or bad, Ron. We have to believe in right or wrong. But for me…" She mused before standing and brushing her legs free of dust. "I think that if you want to be powerful for the right reasons then you should work to be so." She waved goodbye and Ron waved at her, watching as she left, her almost white hair bouncing up and down with each step she took. Soon she was gone and Ron was left to himself in order to think. If Luna was right, and given the fact that she was a Ravenclaw she probably knew what she was talking about, then he had to work on this. He had to change his family's image for the better. And he had to become a powerful wizard.
Hermione had been chatting with Myrtle for a while, allowing the cauldron to cool down before finishing the concoction. Myrtle had promised to not tell anyone about Hermione's potion making as long as she visited often which, now that she had a safe space to brew at, Hermione had all the intentions of doing. The liquid cooled and Hermione gingerly added the finely chopped Devil's Wit thorns and the troll skin. Instantly, the cauldron's opening burst into flames, catching Hermine's hand and burning her. It stung and she bit back a yelp as she accidentally rubbed her hand against her shirt, the fabric causing the sensitive skin to grow red and pulsating with the beating of her heart. She'd at least have a blister or two but it was a price worth paying if she had done her potion correctly. She pointed her wand, pressing her once again injured hand to her chest as she whispered the command-spell, "Finite!" Just like that, the flames all died off and the cauldron began to bubble softly even though the potion was moderately cold and nowhere near the boiling point. Hermione looked into it and nodded to both herself and Myrtle, satisfied with the results. "Ooh…" Said the ghost as she floated near the cauldron, inspecting it closely. "What is it going to do?" Hermione blew some air at her hand, though it only alleviated her pain temporarily. "The potion itself does nothing." She told the ghost, picking up the now slightly heavier cauldron with one hand before quitting, lest she spill the brew all over herself and the floor. She grimaced and ripped her one of the sleeves of her jacket off, soaking it in freezing water that came from one of the faucets and wrapping it around her hand and turning to the ghost. "It's the vines that I put inside that I need."
Now whole, albeit barely, she gripped the handle of the cauldron and lifted it up before angling it so that the liquid poured into the toilet, the porcelain bowl greedily drinking at the liquid that rushed into its pipe systems. Slowly so as to not accidentally flush down some of the precious plants, she spent the better part of half an hour making sure that she did not grow hasty and accidentally undo her entire plan. Before long though, she held a much lighter cauldron within which were several soggy tendrils of Devil's wit, now pale green and pulsating with deep grey lines. Myrtle looked inside and giggled before spiraling up and looking down at Hermione. "And what do they do?" She cooed, chuckling as she orbited around the girl. "Well… She is very conceited and cares a lot about her image, plus I noticed there is a boy she fancies. And she always tries to smell nice." She put on a thick glove which she had stolen from the green houses earlier that day. "So this will give her many pimples, early wrinkles, bad breath and body odor." Myrtle covered her mouth but she spun slowly as she laughed. She too had been bullied but nowhere near as badly as Hermione had been. The girls of her year only made fun of her for her glasses, but here Hermione faced the worst form of harassment; social, racial and verbal.
Hermione then carefully grabbed the vines which pulsated with a dull grey light, illuminating her eyes as she dropped them inside a small glass tube which she had taken from her potions making set, and placing a cork stopper in the opening when she was done. She looked at her handiwork, pleased with the result. There was no way it could get traced back to her, after all this was a potion of her own devising and she doubted anyone would notice her as the culprit. It was a harmless yet effective means of getting a point across. The most poetic form of revenge there was; justice. The girl was so obsessed with how she looked and how 'pure' her blood was? Then Hermione would make her look the same way the girl treated her. Myrtle floated alongside Hermione and took a ghostly breath. "What is this girl's name?" Hermione placed the tube within her bag, in a secure space where it would not easily shatter before turning to Myrtle. "I… I don't know… Some of the students call her Duchess but I doubt that is her real name." Myrtle snorted and floated up to the window. "Sounds like a pet's name… Some witch she must be, Hermione." She sighed and began floating, moaning and keening and causing several prefects that had decided to investigate the source of a rather acrid stench to turn around and exit the way they came, as they were not paid enough to deal with stuff like that.
Hermione packed her things, washing the inside of her cauldron with hot water and then rinsing it with cold, the metal gleaming by the time she was finished cleaning it. The lesson professor Snape had given her on the maintenance of their equipment had not gone to waste and she quickly made her way to the Slytherin common room, the cauldron containing her equipment pressed tight to her as she navigated her minds map and went through the castle. Ron too was making his way from the Astronomy tower, the tattered remains of his jacket binding the three items together as he clutched them close to his chest. He had had several close calls with a few prefects and twice he had been forced to hide in a broom closet in order to avoid being spotted. It was late at night and Ron just wanted to sleep, but he knew that if he let his guard down then he'd make a mistake, a slip up and pay the price. Thus, he continued slowly and hugging the walls, pausing for minutes at a time and making his way through the castle's extensive interiors.
Harry woke with a start, the cold of the lake seeping through the stone floors and past the magical windows that held the waters at bay. Something wriggled off in the water, a dull shape noticeable in the pitch black and slightly green backdrop, algae moving back and forth with the currents within the expansive body of water. Harry stood, moving closer to the window and shivering slightly as he pressed a hand to the glass, shockingly cold in contrast to the air of the dungeon. In comparison, the room was hot and Harry stopped shivering while thinking about it. He looked into the lake, fish darting back and forth but knowing that that was not the reason he had woken up from his sleep. Something had knocked on the tempered glass and then left.
Shrugging, he did the only thing that made sense to his sleep deprived mind. He made a fist and gently tapped with his knuckles against the glass, the sound absorbed by the watery depths. Thinking nothing of it, he merely stared at the green backdrop, pillars of silver stabbing through the dark green of the algae forest as clouds went before the moon and let its light shine through to the lake. Now Harry could see better and he spotted a mermaid swimming, her hair flowing behind her as she contorted around the light beams from above. He knocked again, a little louder this time and to his surprise he saw the mer-woman stop and turn in his direction. Slowly, she made her way closer to him, tail flicking powerfully, propelling herself towards him and he stepped back, realizing how much bigger than him she was. Her body was as long as the windows and she had to hunch in order to look at him. Her face was very noticeably not human, her ears enlarging behind her head like tubes and her hair was not the same as anyone Harry had ever met. It was actually composed of tentacles of many sizes, wriggling around and curling on themselves as she leaned close and smiled, exposing her extraordinarily sharp teeth, of which there were two rows within her mouth.
Unsure of what to do, Harry grinned back and waved at her before stopping. Maybe waving his hand had a different meaning for the mer-people. She looked with curiosity at his gesture and returned it, her hand flowing through the water and sending some particles of dirt spinning around as she moved it along before lowering it. She had fishlike lips which were covered in glittering fish scales. Her entire body was covered in them and they caused her to glimmer beneath the pale moonlight. Harry leaned closer to the window and the mer-woman moved herself so that she too was closer to him. He could hear a melody that vibrated through the glass, the beings lips moving as if she were speaking to him. He turned his head and pressed an ear to the cold surface, capable now of making out the meaning behind the sounds. It was a song, with a melody that felt familiar to Harry even though he could not remember where he had heard it before.
"… in the water. Swim, swim with us here where the flow is clear and our land is dear. Over and under we go, a path that you must follow." Harry took a shaky breath and leaned away from the window, the melody becoming less defined with each inch he put between himself and the mer-woman. What did she mean? He cocked his head and the mer-woman imitated his movement, her tentacle hair swirling about and covering one of her eyes before being brushed away by her hand, which Harry just then noticed was webbed and had wickedly sharp claws for fingernails. He was going to try and communicate when the common room door opened and he quickly made his way to the space between the wall and one of the couches, his youthful body fitting snugly in the cramped space. Someone closed the door, the locks snapping shut as whoever it was that had entered made their way to their common room. Soon, silence reigned again and Harry exited his hiding spot, looking about but seeing no one. The coast was clear and he turned to the window, hoping to continue listening to the mer-woman sing again.
She was not there, the glass revealing only the murky green depths of the lake, fish swimming past and algae rippling with the hidden currents that circled it at the bottom. He sighed, turning around before making his way to the boy's dormitory, crawling into bed and closing his eyes, the soft and lilting melody playing over and over in his mind, bringing peace to his rest and at last he managed to sleep well. He did not dream of the mysterious hallway that gleamed with ill-intent or the gut-wrenching fear that emanated from that door. Harry floated in a large and expansive ocean, the water warm as it swirled around him. He could see even though he did not have his glasses and he could hear despite being submerged. For miles on end there was nothing but the deep blue of the sea, the currents noticeable as lighter or darker shades of blue in the backdrop of the oceans waters. He looked at his hands thought they were normal, not webbed or anything. He felt his neck then looked at his feet, shivering with the view. They were normal as well, that was not the cause of his alarm. It was the miles long drop to the bottom of the ocean, as all he could see straight down was bluer and his outline in the water as his body blocked the rays of the sun. He looked up and squinted as his eyes felt the pain of staring directly up at the sun, sending a dull ache to the back of his head as he blinked freely. He stopped for a moment and realized that he was not breathing. Did he need to intake air? Then he remembered that he was dreaming and decided that maybe, he did not really need to breathe the air. So he swam for a while, enjoying the solitude of being himself. Just Harry Potter, not the Boy Who Lived. Not the Slayer of Voldemort, just… Harry Potter.
The person who had made their way to their common room while Harry was hiding was none other than Hermione Granger, who managed to place her cauldron underneath her bed without making too much of a clatter. If any of the Slytherin girls woke now then all would be ruined. Slowly, she uncorked the glass vial and made her way to Duchess' bed with her hand out in order to not accidentally bump into anything. She felt fabric beneath her fingers and stealthily poured the vines into it, their soft green and grey glowing lights disappearing as the vines sunk into the fabric and assimilated themselves in a similar texture. The deed was done and Hermione shakily returned to her bed, almost dropping her vial on the floor at the realization that she had carried out such a plan. It gave her a sense of guilt and she considered concocting an antidote. Suddenly, back to her mind came the words she had learned to hate. 'Out of my way! Filthy mudblood… Mudblood…' The laughter of her friends echoing snidely in Hermione's head and she clenched a fist, resolving to see it through.
Ron reached the door to the Slytherin common room a little after Hermione had and thus had no idea what his friends had been up to, assuming that they were sound asleep while he undertook his quest for knowledge. It had been a good night, he had learned a great deal and Ron felt that soon, if he continued studying with Luna and using her knowledge of the Old Religion then he could achieve his goals. Thus, he hid his books underneath his bed, inside a drawer that was cleverly disguised as a carving into the ancient wood and went to sleep, the sheets warm as his head buzzed with the information gained from the story. He drifted off to the land of dreams, dreaming of beings of pure light and darkness that towered over him, giants of shadow and beam of light that slowly walked around him. He wanted to be as tall as them but for the moment he did not know how to do it.
On went the night, peaceful and quiet as the three slept fitfully. Hermione nervous about the future, Ron hopeful about it and Harry sure that whatever lay ahead would be worth it. After all, he only wanted a normal life away from the spotlight that had been thrust at him from his birth. Was that so much to ask?
And another chapter is completed. If you reached this far and have not clicked the follow or favorite button then I would encourage you to do so. I would be sad to learn that people miss my posts and don't keep up with the story. Later!
