AN: Sorry it's late. This one seems to constantly get away from me even though I know Friday is approaching. I think I'm going to be a little more lenient with myself and say that the updates will happen at some point between Friday and Sunday every week because this isn't working so well for me.
Anways, thank you to everyone who has read, favourite and reviewed. Its so cool to see the numbers growing steadily each week :D
And as always, a giant thank you to WithPatienceComesPeace, JujuGentle and CleverMird for being my Betas. Soo many mistakes would be here if it wasn't for you three.
Chapter 5: Asking all around if I am anywhere to be found
The alley was quiet. Still. But she knew that there was movement everywhere the same way she knew that nobody would come for her if she screamed.
Riddle was holding her wrist and looking at her. He would do anything to keep it a secret. And she was connected to him somehow.
He felt angry. She felt scared.
The prostitute stood there with her wand out. She finished the spell and then she turned to Halley. She was asking for help, but the words didn't come out of her mouth.
Then Riddle lifted his wand. She couldn't see it, but she knew he had. He cast the spell. Suddenly she was watching from inside a mirror. This one she knew - it tingled with magic - the Mirror of Erised.
Riddle looked on, cold fury in his eyes. Halley was trapped. Inside the mirror. With Riddle.
She reached out and touched her fingertips to the glass.
The moment she did the familiar green of the spell hit the prostitute. The prostitute didn't fall to the ground like she was supposed to. Instead, she turned around and looked through the mirror at Halley.
The prostitute's eyes were unblinking. Vivid green. The same colour as the unforgivable. The same colour as Halley's eyes.
The prostitute was staring unblinking at her with Halley's own eyes. But they weren't Halley's eyes.
Then the prostitute opened her mouth wide, impossibly wide, unhinging at the jaw. Gaping. Her eyes still unblinking. She screamed a piercing wail. But it wasn't her voice. The same way they weren't Halley's eyes.
The wail dripped in fear and grief and desperation. Halley had heard it before.
Her mother's cry.
Halley's cry.
The prostitute's cry.
The prostitutes stepped through the mirror and Halley was raising her arm. Her wand in her hand. The spell was said: Avada Kedavra.
The prostitute crumpled at her hand.
Halley woke with a gasp of air. Not a small one, but one that hurt her lungs to breathe in with the force of it.
The dream had shaken her, but even now it was slipping away. The only bits she could remember properly were the mirror and the scream. Her mum's scream.
Halley didn't know how she knew it was her mum, but she was certain it was. Halley swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat. She didn't know what the time was, but judging by the lack of sound, it was too early for the rest of the household to be awake.
She sat up and curled in on herself, holding her knees and wrapping her hand around them.
The tears came then. As soon as she felt her own body heat at her chest Halley began crying. Really, she was surprised it hadn't started sooner.
The Chamber. Weasley. Riddle. The Dursley's.
Don't cry - don't cry!
But the tears flowed freely, the sobs wracked at her body, and all the while she sat, breathing in the dust from under the stairs, holding onto herself with no illusions that things would get better.
How could they?
But today, at least, she would be leaving for Hogwarts. There was some reprieve. She just had to get there.
Hedwig hadn't come back with her during the summer; it was better for everyone if she stayed at the grounds. Halley's trunk was already packed. She'd had the foresight to repack it the first night back because everything was on a whim with the Dursley's.
But they had locked it all away in the storing cupboard after Riddle had taken her away. Vernon had no intention of giving it back to her either; he had no intention of helping her at all.
But Halley had very little to lose right now. She would have to break the lock and steal money from one of their purses, but she would get herself to Platform 9 ¾.
Dry your eyes. Don't be weak.
It had all gone smoothly; Halley broke the lock with an old pair of shears in the toolbox, got her trunk and took the money she had been stealing over the summer.
Kings Cross hadn't changed in the two-and-a-half months since she'd last been there, but Halley had.
Everything felt different. She remembered stepping onto the train at the start of her second year. How worried she'd been as she waited for Snape to collect her from the station.
She had been so naive. It had only been a year ago.
Now, as she loaded her trunk and Hedwig's empty cage into the luggage compartment on the almost empty train, she swallowed and a part of her grieved for the little girl she had been.
And she wondered what type of girl she would be next time she stepped onto the platform.
Riddle had some sort of plan – she knew that - but what was it? And when would he put it into place? Worse yet, how big of a part would she end up playing? He'd kept her alive for some reason after all.
What would her silence cost her? Because people were counting on her in some way or another, and Voldemort was still alive. And what if Riddle joined him?
She'd made him swear he would teach her, so what would his tutelage give her?
Halley glanced once more around the station and then made her way onto the train to find a carriage. Other than one carriage with a dishevelled looking man, the rest were mostly empty. But she ignored them all and carried on down towards the Slytherin compartments.
The lack of people didn't surprise her. While the train arrived at the platform an hour before it was scheduled to depart, most students arrived at 10.30. Magic made easy access.
It was only the Muggleborns that came too early.
Halley found the compartment she'd ridden back in at the end of last year and sat herself down.
She didn't know when her peers would arrive; Halley hadn't known anyone in her first year and Dobby's magic had interfered with the last one, so she hadn't had the opportunity to ride with them. She assumed they would get there in the next half hour. In the meantime she sat quietly, strategically placed so that she would see anyone who passed the compartment.
That was how she saw Ron Weasley with enough time to have her wand at the ready.
Hayley was under no illusions about his intentions, but she hoped she was wrong.
She wasn't.
"On your own, Potter?" Weasley asked. His tone was nasty. Harsh. And his face matched it; angry with bags under his eyes like he hadn't slept the whole summer. Halley didn't doubt that he hadn't.
Halley didn't know what she should do. Weasley was looking at her like he wanted to hurt her badly, and she knew why.
"This is a bad idea, Weasley," she said softly. She noticed his wand resting at his side, but she chose to keep hers tucked into her sleeve. She would use it if she had to, but she didn't want to aggravate the situation any more than necessary. She didn't want to aggravate him.
"Is that a threat?" he asked.
Halley shook her head. "I don't want trouble."
Weasley laughed, his tone dark and cold enough to make the hair at the back of her neck stand to attention in anticipation. "That's funny. Ginny didn't want trouble either, but now she's dead."
Halley's mouth went dry at the implication.
Weasley stepped closer and in the same breath raised his wand so it was pointing right between her eyes.
The compartment suddenly felt far smaller than it had before. The glass windows only showed the brick wall of the station and made everything all the more claustrophobic and dangerous.
"I didn't kill her," she whispered through a sandpapered throat. "I - it wasn't me."
"You were the only other person in the Chamber, Potter. And everyone knows you're a Dark Lady in the making, as if being a Parselmouth wasn't enough proof!" he spat.
She was now thoroughly regretting staying seated. She should have stood up as soon as he entered the compartment. If she did that now, she ran the risk of her movements coming across as threatening. And while she didn't have much confidence in his magical ability, she knew he had a mind for strategy. Enough that he could turn most situations in his favour.
"I -" What could she say? Riddle's Imperious had meant that she wasn't able to tell anyone about the Chamber in and of itself, but the Vow had added another layer to the situation. Even if she had wanted to tell Weasley how his sister had died or what had happened, she couldn't. "I'm sorry."
That was all she could say.
She hadn't cared much for the Weasley girl. She'd only gone after her because she'd wanted the diary back, but Halley hadn't wanted the girl to die. She hadn't wanted any of this. She should have never picked up the diary.
"You will be," Weasley said.
She saw him clench his wand in preparation to cast a spell and she pulled her own wand out of her sleeve. Weasley tensed as she stood up. "Please don't," she said. "I don't want to hurt you."
He narrowed his eyes. "You think I'm afraid of you?" he asked.
Halley just looked at him with a level stare hoping that he would get it. That he would just back away. It wasn't worth it.
But she wouldn't know what he would decide, because a moment later the compartment door slid open and Parkinson walked through quietly, followed by Greengrass.
"I think you've come to the wrong compartment, Weasley," Greengrass said softly. It was pleasant enough but there was an edge that warned him against hexing Halley.
Parkinson hummed distastefully. "I'm sure I saw your...brood somewhere further along. They seemed like they were waiting for you."
Weasley snarled at the three of them, but he knew what would happen if he stayed. They all did. The three of them would overpower him, and for Weasley to attack House Potter, Parkinson and Greengrass unprovoked…
The Weasley's may have been Blood Traitors, but they knew enough to know that causing a family feud was not going to be a good course of action.
Halley had to wonder why he thought he could attack her alone. But then, maybe he was banking on her not understanding Pureblood customs. Or maybe he was just desperate.
But he lowered his wand and the girls parted for him, shutting the door immediately after he had left.
Parkinson narrowed her eyes and stared at Halley. "What the fuck was that, Potter?"
Halley just blinked and put her wand down.
"Don't pull that silent crap on us. What was Weasley doing in the compartment and why were you letting him hold you at Wand-point like that?" Parkinson asked.
"He was upset about his sister," Halley said.
Daphne Greengrass looked at Halley closely. There was something off about her this year. There had been something there on the train ride back as well, but they had mostly left her alone. Nobody knew exactly what had happened down in the Chamber, but Potter had looked bad enough that they didn't ask.
But she looked thinner now. More gaunt and...hollow. And Potter was certainly more on edge than Daphne had ever seen her before. She'd always been like that; she kept to herself and was cautious about everything, wary of everyone. But there had been a little give last year after they had all been accused by Filch.
Not much, but enough to make Daphne think the three of them were on the same page. But whatever had given way had been pushed firmly back in place and Daphne suspected it had quite a bit to do with Ginerva Weasley and the monster in the Chamber.
"What happened in the Chamber?" Daphne asked gently.
Green eyes flashed to hers and held them. For a moment she thought Halley would tell them and Daphne held her breath. But as soon as Halley looked away, the moment passed.
Halley shrugged. "I can't remember," she said.
Halley was careful not to let her voice change or give anything away. Greengrass was perceptive and Parkinson would chase after information until she'd clawed it from the source. If either of them were too suspicious of something then they would pry. It was in a Slytherin's nature.
"Sure, Potter."
Halley felt her spit catch in her throat at the look Parkinson gave her, but she breathed easier when the girl sat down on one of the seats. Greengrass took that as permission to sit next to Halley.
There wasn't enough time for either of them to say anything else because a moment later Millicent Bulstrode and Tracey Davis saw them through the glass and entered the compartment with an obligatory greeting to Halley.
The other two received a friendlier greeting but Halley found she didn't care very much.
There was a continuous flow of students passing the compartment doors now. If Halley had to guess, she would say that the train would be leaving in about ten minutes. But so long as Malfoy didn't come into their compartment, Halley would be fine. She didn't have the capacity to deal with him.
Though Davis could be as bad as Malfoy when the mood struck her, at least she was prone to ignoring Halley. She wasn't sure why Davis was so cold to her, but she didn't pay it much attention. If she tried something then Halley would retaliate. Until then, the mutual silence between them suited Halley very well.
"Who made Prefect this year?" Bulstrode asked.
Parkinson smiled a devious smile. "Selwyn and Travers, though I heard Selwyn got it by default," she said.
"That does not surprise me," Greengrass said without any judgement. "After that fight between Fawley and Avery then Selwyn was the last respectable female to be chosen for Prefect."
Halley remembered that fight. It had been ruthless and landed the two fourth years in the Infirmary for a week. The Howlers that had followed had been ones to scare the new first years as well. Apparently, fighting in the halls was for common filth and Mudbloods alike.
"Yes, but Selwyn?" Davis asked. "She won't last very long. She cracked under the pressure of her fourth-year exams! What will she do with Prefect responsibilities on top of her OWLs this year?"
"Fawley would have been a better choice, regardless," Parkinson agreed. She took a blood pop from its packet and delicately began nibbling at it. "She's capable enough to deal with Rowle's advances."
Greengrass tutted. "He and Lyra Rosier have an understanding, no?"
"I doubt that's going to stop him. This is his last year - and Head Boy to boot? He'll have girls in and out of his dorms," Davis said.
Halley listened and hummed when she was supposed to.
Bulstrode took another chocolate frog from the collection and opened it. She caught the thing before it could jump off and bit into it, chucking the card to the floor after an unimpressed glance at Nicholas Flamel. "I don't envy Selwyn. Not with Black on the loose."
Greengrass hummed. "The professors are sure to be on the lookout. Though, I find it interesting they aren't cancelling Hogsmeade this year."
"Don't jinx it, Daphne," Davis whined. "This is our first year."
"As if you haven't been to Hogsemede yet, Davis," Parkinson said. "Or haven't you?"
Davis flushed and glared at Parkinson. "Of course I have. What do you take me for? But don't tell me you aren't excited to be able to get out of the castle?"
"I suppose so," Parkinson said leaning back in her seat. "It would be more exciting if Draco got over himself and asked me there."
Halley scoffed lightly. Malfoy could only take himself to Hogsmeade with the size of his ego. Bulstrode seemed to agree.
"Malfoy's so full of himself you'd be lucky if he noticed you. He's too busy trying to goad Weasley into a fight," Bulstrode said. The compartment hummed in agreement.
Then Davis turned to Halley with an odd glint in her eye. "You must be nervous coming back this year, Potter."
"Why would I be nervous, Davis?" Halley asked. It seemed they had come to the end of their little quiet ceasefire and Davis was going to try and rile her up.
"Well, obviously because Black has escaped."
"What has that got to do with me?" she asked. And who was Black? This was the second time that they had said that name in the last few minutes. What had happened over the summer in the Wizarding world that Halley didn't know about?
Davis narrowed her eyes, but then something that looked like understanding crossed her face and she chuckled. "You don't know, do you?"
Halley hated that question. There was no way to answer it without the other person being the one in power unless you actually had the answers to those questions. It was just another way to prove that you were weaker than them.
"Enlighten me," she said through clenched teeth. Not for the first time she cursed Dumbledore for leaving her with the Dursley's.
Davis laughed. "Sirius Black - mass murderer and one of the Dark Lord's followers - broke out of Azkaban this summer."
"And?"
"Just before he broke out, the guards said they heard him muttering about how you were at Hogwarts."
Halley narrowed her eyes.
"That's not what they said, Tracey," Daphne said. "They said they heard him muttering about how they were at Hogwarts."
"Yes well. He's mad, isn't he? Mad and looking to finish off what his Lord started."
Halley found herself wanting to throttle Davis more than she had ever wanted to before. The idiot was truly on par with Malfoy.
If Black had escaped from Azkaban, then he was dangerous enough. And if he had the Black madness like the rest of them were supposed to have - then he was lethal. But Halley couldn't let Davis have the satisfaction of seeing her scared.
"It's so good to know that you aren't able to properly give facts, Davis," she said instead. Halley saw the smug smile fall off Davis' face. "It seems like all those tutors over Summer haven't helped you much. Hopefully you'll get up to scratch by the time OWLs come around otherwise it might be you and Longbottom tying for the worst score."
"You think you're so clever Potter," Davis hissed.
"More so than you," Halley retorted.
"I bet your parents thought the same. But it was Black that betrayed them to the Dark Lord, you know."
"What?" The words seemed to roll off Halley like she hadn't heard them properly and her mind scrambled to make sense of them. But Davis kept talking.
"Rumour has it, your parents even made him your Godfather," Davis spat. "Funny, isn't it. If he is your Godfather, then it's all the more ironic that he's coming to finish you off."
"I think it's better that you just keep quiet," Parkinson said tensely. "You're embarrassing us."
The help was unexpected, but Halley was so far beyond angry now. Fury was making her shake. For some reason the anger was making her cold.
"Davis!" Bulstrode said. "Stop."
"I would remind you who you're talking to, Davis. House Potter is still in stronger standing than House Davis," Greengrass said with narrow eyes.
"Like the bitch deserves it," Davis hissed.
Halley was about to lunge at her, but the train suddenly braked. Halley's reflexes were quicker than the others but even still, she was hurled forwards into Parkinson's lap as the force of the brakes kept her there.
"Bloody hell!" someone shouted.
"Why has the train stopped?"
Then the lights flickered off. All five of them sat still listening to their breathing and the panic coming from the other compartments.
"What the fuck is going on?" Parkinson asked.
Sounds of footsteps came from outside and then the compartment slid open. "Is everyone ok?" The voice was familiar enough to Halley, but she couldn't place it. Then a spell was cast, and they were all bathed in the warm glow of light. Because it was pointed at them Halley couldn't see who the voice belonged to, but the others seemed to recognise him.
"We're fine, Rowle," Greengrass said. "But what's going on?"
"I'm not sure, but we're going up to the driver to find out. Can any of you cast Lumos yet?" Rowle asked.
"Potter?" Greengrass asked her. Halley looked at the spell but she didn't recognise it from any of the books she'd read and she doubted she'd be able to pick it up on the first try at the moment.
"No," she said.
"Alright," Rowle said. "Just stay in your compartments until the lights come back on. I'll check in on you on my way back." Then the light moved away and the compartment door slid closed.
Halley was momentarily blinded as the spots cleared from her eyes but when they eventually did, she was able to see more clearly in the dark. Everything was getting clearer too, as her eyes adjusted.
Halley pushed the hair that had fallen into her eyes away, tucking the curly strand behind her ear. It was a good thing she didn't wear glasses with the number of times she'd fallen, or a quidditch ball had flown at her.
"This is just stupid," Bulstrode said. "What are they doing?"
"Has the train ever stopped before?" Halley asked.
Was this Riddle? Was he attacking the train for some reason? No, that didn't make any sense. He wanted her to stay quiet - to not bring any attention to him - so why would he attack the train?
"Not that I've ever heard," Parkinson said. "Figures this would be the year it happens."
A sudden chill swept over Halley and the hairs at the back of her neck stood up. She shivered and rubbed at her arms through the too-thin sleeved shirt.
Davis looked at Halley. "If this is Black, know I won't hesitate to hand you over, Potter."
"It's not Black!" Parkinson shouted. "Whatever interfered with the train is strong magic. Not a man who's been rotting in Azkaban for twelve years!"
"You never know."
"Stop it, Tracy," Bulstrode sighed, shivering a little herself. As she did so, her breath became visible.
Halley didn't realise at first. It came on slowly, but at some point, she realised she was freezing cold and she was miserable.
"What's happening?" Greengrass asked, her voice cracking.
It was the first time Halley had ever heard her tone break, and it worked to make her more scared.
Then, the sound of the door opening started again. Slowly. Creepingly.
Standing in the doorway was something Halley had never seen before, and it only took a second to know that she never wanted to see it again. Long, pitch black, robes draped on the floor. She couldn't see its face.
Halley looked down and started in fright. There was a hand protruding from the cloak and it was glistening, greyish, slimy-looking, and scabbed, like something dead that had decayed in water.
But it was visible only for a split second.
It was like the thing had sensed Halley's gaze on it, because the hand was suddenly withdrawn into the folds of its black cloak.
"Dementor," Bulstrode squeaked.
It was as if its name was a trigger for something because a second later it drew a long, slow, rattling breath like it was trying to suck something other than the air from the compartment.
An intense cold - one that reminded her too much of winters under the cupboard - crept into Halley and burrowed its way into her skin. Into her chest. Her heart.
Halley's eyes rolled up into her head with so much force that it hurt. She couldn't see anything. She was flailing around in the cold and it felt like water was rushing into her ears. Like she was being drowned.
A roaring sounded, louder and louder, growing heavier and pulling her further down.
And then, from far away, she heard screaming. Terrified, horrible, pleading screaming. Her mum screaming. And someone laughing.
"Potter? Potter! Halley!"
There was a sharp sting against her cheek. Halley opened her eyes and was met with bright lights overhead. The floor was shaking - slowly she realised that the train was moving again - and she was on the floor again.
She felt sick. So sick.
Between the dream, Davis and whatever had just happened, it was too much
Halley turned over and threw up on someone's shoes and then her eyes rolled back into her head. She had fainted.
AN: If you liked it, please leave a review. I do love hearing what people are thinking about it :)
