Author: Svelte Rose
Rating: K+
Title: Kill Time, Injure Eternity
Characters: Hermione Granger, Tom Riddle, Abraxas Malfoy, etc.
Warnings: The madness that I have pulled from my mind and transfused into this work.
Date: September 12th, 2007
Note: It's coming along slowly. I started it today but I'm betting the end of this chapter alone probably won't be until three weeks from now.
She had awoken to the sound of wind chimes ringing through the room. A slight breeze blew in from the open windows while outside, the sound of birds could be heard singing their morning tune. Sitting up in bed, her hand went instinctively to her neck and she noted with even more confusion that while there was a slight bump along where the glass had embedded itself, the pain no longer existed.
Where was she? She distinctively remembered being petrified by the lieu of Death Eaters which incidentally meant her capture but this was hardly the treatment she'd been expecting for being a prisoner of war.
Throwing the silk coverlets aside, she threw her legs over the bed and just as she was standing up, the door opened.
Eyes widening and hands flying to her mouth, she whispered with trepidation, "Lucius Malfoy…"
It was a long walk to the Headmaster's office and the climb up the five flights of ever-changing stairs was fairly grueling. Had she been in a more affable state of mind, she would have laughed at how normal this trip seemed. There was not a school year she had attended yet where she was not called into the Headmaster's office within at least the first three months of it and this only enabled the 'tradition' even more.
It was a grim situation and her face clearly showed it. She had long tucked her wand away having almost snapped it in half when she stalked from the classroom, a certain Prefect smirking after her.
She had not missed the undeniable challenge that he had issued in his eyes and was rightly incensed.
However she wasn't angry with him. Yes, he would make life extremely hard and yes, she would have to be extra careful.
But the blame lay on her shoulders and now she had to find someway to alleviate what she could of the entire situation. First things first…
Her brown eyes flickered between the three adults: Professor Slughorn, Armando Dippet, and Albus Dumbledore. For the last twenty minutes, she sat with a hand balanced on her leg while Slughorn relayed what he observed happening during the duel only pausing in between to answer questions asked by the other two men.
She kept a mask of outward calmness as she awaited their verdict. On the inside, however, she experienced a multitude of feelings and none were as great as the disappointment and anger at having been revealed so thoroughly. Of course, she had to be found out sooner or later- it was inevitable. The glamour charm was one of the easiest magic to detect; it was so easy that all one had to do was stare hard enough and they could even see through the charm with the naked eye. Had it been any other wizard known for their prowess in the academic field, she would have expected it. As it was him, however, it only gave her reasons for even greater apathy towards him.
How he knew, she still had no idea but her anger had time to simmer during the walk up to the Headmaster's tower. What was done was done and there was nothing she could do to take it back except salvage whatever was left of the situation. Unfortunately, she knew that had it not been for her outburst, she would probably have a better advantage than what she possessed now.
She had to hope for the best.
Grindelwald in the Wizarding World, Hitler in the Muggle World; conflict existed on both sides of the sphere. There was no escape. Tensions hung thick in the air and those frightened by the glooming war were quick to point fingers.
Thankfully, the glamour charm was somewhat short of being considered anything remotely dark magic and certainly not as serious as what her fifth year DADA professor had pulled with the Polyjuice potion.
Whether it was to make their eyelashes longer, lips plumper, cheeks became rosier, or basically anything to attract the object of their affections, hundreds of wizards and witches employed the use of the glamour charm. Her appearance had been composed of features far from the normal standards beauty but to her credit, it was not something the professors would comment on, even if it were plainly obvious.
Now, she would have to be more alert, more ready for him because she knew she had unwittingly angered him.
She narrowed her eyes, "I don't have to explain myself to anybody, least of all, you." She could not help but make the last word sound like dirt in her mouth.
The smiling countenance never left his face but she could see she had angered him by the darkening pools of emerald and the knuckle-white grip on his wand. He had to deal with enough people speaking to him in those tones- he would not want the same in a school he otherwise ruled.
She had seen the look in his eyes during their brief tête-à-tête and it would be forever etched crudely in her memory. Likewise, he was likely to not forget the slight he had suffered at her words and as was his vindictive nature, would retaliate in due time.
But those worries were not for here and now.
As long as she stayed level-headed around these three, very observant men, their questions could and would be parried by a swift exchange of words on her part.
So immersed in her own thoughts, she almost didn't catch the question being directed at her by the Headmaster.
"Hera?" Headmaster Dippet prodded gently for the third time as the other two watched her, a bit of concern in their eyes, "Is there something you need to tell us?"
She was surprise at the ease of how quickly she could lie with even a smile to accompany it, "I'm afraid I did it for selfish reasons."
Dumbledore seemed particularly interested in her answer as he was the next to nudge her into continuing, "Yes?"
So she answered, plainly and simply why she had done what she did.
Lying seemed to be about the only thing she could do right these days.
Her original appearance, while by no means a super beauty whatsoever, greatly outranked the appearance she had chosen to glamour herself with. She had not done this without purpose; it was the best disguise she could don that would garner the least amount of attention.
Because her hair, while fond of it as she was, it simply called for too much distinction. It was the reason she was the subject of harassment all throughout most of her child and teenage life and had been dealt with easily with in the past.
It was not a luxury she could afford in the present.
So she had answered that she thought her disguise prettier than her own appearance. Blond hair was a must. It was certainly easier to maintain.
She did not want to catch his attention but she most certainly had.
How?
She had been excused from the office after and as there was no real reason beyond that of superficiality (which was their reasoning) for keeping the disguise, it was more sensible (and generally agreed upon) to not use it as her general day-to-day appearance. It would be suspicious if she fought for it otherwise.
The glamour charm was marked under the list of 'harmless' spells by the Ministry as it was generally used to cloak certain aspects, unappealing aspects, of one's physical appearance. On a more advanced level, it could actually be used to change the structure of the actual object it had to act upon. It should have fell under the 'transfigurations' category but since not many chose to advance especially with such a seemingly useless spell, it was generally used as a simple, feature enhancing charm. That was a characteristic which Dumbledore had chose to emphasize quite a bit during their discussion.
After the initial shock, Slughorn had chuckled and marveled at how well it had been cast, patting her on the back and extending another invitation to his 'small get-togethers.'
Now there was something she could probably do without.
Dumbledore had not said another word and to the entire world, seemed just as pleased as Slughorn.
She knew better. He had played up the persona of a surprised and pleased Professor but from years of battle-honed instincts, she could tell that he was everything but surprised. He was pleased but not for the same reasons Slughorn was, though why, she could only fathom. She would wager that he had expected this to happen, which only caused even more questions on her part…
How had the two people she had sought so desperately to hide herself from figure out that she had been hiding all along?
"Why are fools and fanatics so certain of themselves, but wiser people so full of doubts?" The bronze statue questioned before her.
She responded promptly, "Because true wisdom acknowledges that there is always something to be learned."
The statue seemed to preen his feathers as though very pleased with the answer before swinging open to admit her entrance.
"Thank heavens!" A relieved voice said from behind a column.
She jerked to a stop, her hand flying to her wand instinctively.
A handsome looking boy with raven locks and cerulean blue eyes poked his head out from behind the column, grinning sheepishly. "I think we ruffled its feathers a bit – no pun intended – after our fifth answer, so it refused to open the door for us."
The statue chose this time to respond tartly, "This is the house for the cunning and the intelligent, not for the sarcastic and the stupid!"
The boy rolled his eyes, stepping out from behind the column, two other boys following after. "Just because you didn't like the answers doesn't mean they lacked intelligence."
She had immediately turned her head when she saw who his companions were. Suddenly wanting to get away as soon as possible, she stepped through the doorway quickly while the statue and the boys stood preoccupied arguing with each other.
"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit." She heard the statue bite back.
Flying through the common room and up the stone stairs that led to her dormitories, she chided herself for having been so self-absorbed. How had she overlooked the fact that one of her house mates could have passed for the twin of a boy she had hated so much during her years in school previous to this? Of course, logic stated that it was silly to worry so much because they didn't know who she was but the connections were there nonetheless. She wouldn't have survived if she didn't keep her mind open to all possibilities.
Shutting the door behind her, she fell to the floor with wide eyes and heavy breathing. For the sake of her nerves and something else much greater, she hoped fervently that she didn't come across them again.
What a web we weave when we at first, learn to deceive.
After the debacle in their Defense Against the Dark Arts class (of which Slughorn was the temporary professor for since the original was still recovering from a nasty hex he sustained on his trip to Egypt), she had become more aware of the students in her class. As she had suspected, the incident quickly carved its way through the student body and since it was early in the school year, there was nothing else more interesting to draw their attentions away from the newest 'on-dit.' Therefore, she found herself the object of many whispers and covert looks.
She also realized that she had not been as observant before the reveal. Now, she knew that she must have been lacking any common sense when she failed to noticed certain, major things that were occurring around her.
Invisible. That was what she'd been to them and them to her.
Not only had he revealed her to the entire world, but indirectly, revealed the world to her.
It was not something meant to be praise-worthy.
How had she missed the characteristic long, blond hair and poignant grey-eyes of a certain classmate which so mirrored a boy who was very much a despised acquaintance? How many classes were they in together and why only now, did she seem to notice?
Much as she hated to admit, she knew that it had something to do with her world suddenly revolving around a pair of chilling green eyes.
That had to change. There was need for much improvement.
She did not miss the several looks the blond-haired boy had thrown at her during class and thankfully, they couldn't have been categorized as anything more than a passing glance. Unfortunately, even a single passing glance from the wrong person raised her hackles these days.
Finally, during Quiet Period while composing their latest charms essay and all too encompassed with the final paragraph of her essay, she did not notice that someone had sat down until it nudged her arm, pushing her hand and quill across the otherwise pristine page.
"Sorry." Came the none-too-quiet whisper of the same blue-eyed, black haired boy she had only chance to meet once.
She cast a slightly miffed glance at him before murmuring her quiet acceptance. Her quill quickly picked up the same pace, eager as she was to finish their assignment.
A finger reached up and tugged at a stray curl and her quill immediately halted, blotting on the parchment as she jerked towards him and as a consequence, yanked the strand out of his hand.
He flashed another grin and she was reminded all too clearly of another painful memory of a shocked and pained face of a man toppling backwards.
There was a horrified scream and the flash of one who moved far too fast to be considered totally human only to appear behind the boy who had emitted the scream. A struggle ensued and while the boy was held back from jumping beyond the arch himself, the screams did not stop.
The screams would never stop.
Remus' half-wolf, half-human howl while Dolohov tortured him during his transformation, Kingsley's guttural scream as Rodolphus Lestrange's dark curse hit him in the back, causing his skin to bubble and rot off in just a few seconds, the shrieks and painful sobbing of an almost insane-Tonk's as she broke her fingernails on the bark of a tree she was clutching while Bellatrix tortured her by flogging with a transfigured wand…
She winced and a hand reached up to rub the bridge of her forehead as the blot on the parchment slowly disappeared, leaving behind only neat, scripted handwriting.
The amused boy did not notice but his grin did drop into something resembling that of concern as he reached for her shoulder, mouth open to say something until she jerked away, hand practically kneading at her temple. "I'm sorry, I didn't think I yanked so hard."
"What is it?" She bit out more harshly than she generally would have under…normal circumstances.
"That is…" he seemed flustered and brought his hand back, resting it on the table, "I never got to properly thank you at the entrance. Before any of us noticed, you were gone."
The ringing in her ears halted immediately as she turned to him, her eyes staring right into his. He was reminded slightly of autumn before her voice brought him back to the stuffy classroom with nothing but the scratching of quills upon parchment to remind him of where they were.
"It's fine." She clipped in such a frosty voice that autumn instantly changed into a winter so severe, he felt shivering despite the stifling heat in the room.
"Oh." He frowned, not used to receiving such a disobliging address. Just as he opened his mouth to say something in response, the air next to him shifted as a man with his blond hair pulled back by a simple velvet ribbon sat down and tapped him on the shoulder.
The girl turned back to her parchment and picked up her quill faster than was the norm, scribbling her final words at the bottom of the parchment.
The blue-eyed boy turned to meet a pair of grey-eyes staring at him expectantly and accompanied, as was characteristic, the arched brow.
"Are you finished with your essay?" The blond-haired boy drawled with a bored air.
He nodded instead of answering, suddenly all-too aware of some glares they were receiving from the students who had been bothered by the sudden changed in noise level.
"Then could we possibly proceed with luncheon? I find that being able to eat without having to sit through Crabbe and Goyle's less than austere table manners may do wonders for my digestion." He shrugged nonchalantly as he leaned towards his ear, "Besides, the Yule Ball is still three months away, could you possibly wait before you find another warm body to help you through that night?"
There was a bit of shuffling by his side but he was too annoyed to notice as he closed his blue eyes and grimaced, thankful that the words could not be heard by anyone but himself. His cheeks were slightly flushed at his friend's suggestive tone as he harshly responded, "You think I'm flirting?" He cast a surreptitious glance at the students around them, "I'm not Alphard!"
The blond smirked, his immaculate eyebrow arching once more as he pulled back, his own voice so low, the black-haired youth had to strain to listen, "Fine, play it that way," He held up five slender fingers and began ticking off each digit, "Harriet Tremaine, Felicity Bellwood, Tess Thornhill-,"
The black-haired youth's face flared up as he glared at the blond before interjecting, "Let's save this for a later debate. As I said before, I was not flirting. I was merely giving my thanks to the girl who helped us get into the common room that night."
A confused look was thrown at him as grey-eyes perused the area behind him, "Who are you talking about?"
"What do you mean who am I talking about? She's right-," He blinked several times, finally noticing the empty area next to him, "-here." Sighing, he turned back to his friend and grumbled, "Never mind. She ran off again." He glanced around the room once more, hoping to catch another glance of the elusive curly-haired witch but the results were less than favorable. Finally, he stood up and in a dry voice that was slightly mocking, said, "Let's see what we can do about that petulant stomach of yours, yeah?"
The blond-haired boy rolled his grey eyes before standing up himself, shifting his school bag onto the other shoulder, "Finally."
She fingered the tomes almost lovingly as the faint glow of enchanted lights floated around her, illuminating the titles and the pathway of the aisle. The dust that had settled on some of the sleeping books belied how long they had not been in use so with a bit of daredevil in her, she plucked a particularly plain book from the shelf, dust flying as she brought it down to her eye level, fingers tracing the golden letters.
She mused a bit upon on the title before a shock ran up her fingers and she dropped the book to the ground, hands rubbing together to help alleviate some of the sting. She stared confused at the book before a chuckle from behind made her conscious of her now-broken solitude. She turned her head around and was chagrined to find that it was the other black-haired youth that had accompanied the trio that night in front of the Ravenclaw entrance.
She had escaped to the library originally because of them, not so she could come across the final member of their entourage. She turned back and bent down to retrieve the book, yelping again when it shocked her once more. Instead of dropping it this time, she bounced it on her hands before shoving it unceremoniously back into the shelf, quickly pulling her swollen red fingers away.
He brushed past her, a faint scent of soap and shampoo filling her nostrils as he pulled his wand out and waved it, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Slightly affronted at having been shown what should have been her solution, she quickly decided to leave, having to move around him towards where the exit stood.
"Alphard Black." His baritone voice, somewhat hesitant, called out, halting her steps slightly.
"Who used to be here?" She asked, pointing to a burnt mark on the tapestry.
Blue eyes lit up and his rough features transformed into that of a fond look. She was reminded of why there was a good reason the Blacks were not only known for their family name but also for their good looks that even an incarceration in Azkaban could not take away from him.
"Alphard Black, the only person I respected in the Black family," He sighed, "He was the only one who didn't seem to buy into the whole pureblood, muggle-born business and the only one who was proud when I got sorted into a house other than Slytherin."
"Oh." She simply said, abashed that she had most likely brought up a seemingly sensitive issue. Folding her hands behind her back, she turned her head back and studied the large family tapestry quietly as her companion became lost to the memories of time.
"What's your name?" He finally asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice.
She had turned her head slightly and out of the corner of her eye, saw the handsome boy standing still as the book floated in front of him, small lights dancing as though to a tune that only they could hear. A small smile appeared on her face as she turned back around, a quiet answer escaping her lips, "Hera." Then she picked up her pace once more, eager to take the last few steps leading to the door.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Hera!" He said with a grin, halting the retreating figure once more.
The head nodded once before, curls bouncing once. Then a hand reached out to push the door open and she disappeared into the bustling hallways of a school still in session.