(A/N: Granville makes me very happypants! I've been reading Pottersues, good goodness, I hope I never show up on that. Reading bad things makes me want to write good things. Also, I'm starting to have dreams about these characters, which means I'm pretty absorbed. Headed off to England on the 2nd, so don't expect a lot of updates for a while.)
Granville was curled in a chair away from the fire. Fireside seats were very popular, but the area was always crowded. It was just as easy to sit by the window. He kept flicking his gaze out the window to the snowfall. It was the first snow of the semester. They'd been having an unusually warm autumn, but finally it was starting to look normal. Christmas holidays were fast approaching. The signup sheets for break would be going up in a few days.
Supposedly, Granville should have been focusing on a particularly nasty essay due for History of Magic on Muggle fears of Wizards. It was more long than hard, at least for him. Granville thought history was interesting and easy. He was able to stay awake really well, unlike most of his classmates. In his mind, how could anything talking about people being murdered be dull? Tacita seemed to agree, but thought the teacher and the texts were particularly boring. It was the one class she was doing badly in.
He wasn't sure if it'd been his winning personality, or the fact that she needed him to pass History of Magic, but Tacita had continued to be his friend outside of the week. A lot of people thought he was crazy for sticking so close to her, including his big brother, until it became obvious that she could help him with his "little potions problem." Currently, Granville was waiting for Grimwold and Tacita to get back from third-year remedial potions. He'd planned to get the essay done on his own, but he wanted Tacita's insight on Muggles.
She'd told him many times that she didn't know everything about Muggles, but he thought her going to a Muggle school and studying Muggle history put her at a greater advantage to talk about why Muggles were afraid of Wizards. Besides, he'd promised to help her, since she'd helped him with Professor Longbottom's essay on the uses of Devil's Snare.
Granville's head shot up when he heard the common room entrance open. He'd done it every time the door had opened for the past hour, but this time the two people he wanted to see were coming through it. Grimwold was looking sour, but then he always did. Granville was small and light, but Grimwold was built big. He would probably have a lot of muscle when he got older. He had his brother's sandy brown hair, and their mother's hazel eyes.
The pair of them walked over to the seats Granville had saved, though Tacita crawled up in the window seat, preferring that particular perch. It was a lot of why Granville had gotten a seat near the one window in the common room. Tacita explained that she kind of liked being colder than was comfortable. Granville hadn't questioned it.
"You're smiling," Granville said, looking at Tacita. Tacita didn't smile, not really. She'd smile when she was really, really relieved, but otherwise she didn't. Now her lips were slightly upturned, which for her meant she was absolutely glowing with happiness. "What happened?"
"Slughorn's in love with her," Grimwold said sourly.
Tacita stuck her tongue out at Grimwold. "He's just angry because I had to twist his ear to keep him from ruining his potion," she said.
At that, Grimwold rubbed his ear. "You mean you nearly wrenched it off. I'm still two years older than you, and I can push you around if I want to," he said.
Tacita gave him a level look. "Try it," she said coldly. It didn't happen often, but sometimes the girl would slip. Sometimes she'd show a part of herself that wasn't quite… sane. Grimwold worried about it because his baby brother didn't seem to recognize it. Granville seemed to think Tacita was the best thing since the self-cleaning broom handle. Grimwold had only started spending time with his younger sibling and his "best friend" because of what he saw in the girl.
"Anyway," Granville interjected, making Tacita focus on him instead. "What's got you so happy?"
"Professor Slughorn says he'll let me try some of the second-year potions," Tacita said proudly.
"Really?" Granville asked, happy for her.
"Tell him what the conditions are," Grimwold ordered.
Tacita nodded, but winced a little. "He says I can attempt some second-year potions, under his supervision, if I'll help him with the first year remedial potions," she said.
"Oh Tasi," Granville said sympathetically. The only remedial potions Tacita didn't attend was the first-year class. The first-year class didn't technically start until halfway through the first term, and it was only for students who were really not doing well. If Granville hadn't had Tacita to help him, he'd be in there already. Tacita, though friends with him, was still not very popular in their year or their house. She was still "That Lestrange Girl."
Tacita shook her head. "I'll just have to do it, then, won't I?" she asked; she was very much afraid of teaching. She was afraid that her year-mates would hate her because she was telling them what to do. But more than anything, she wanted to start second-year potions. She'd checked out a second-year textbook from the library, and she'd kept reading it until she had a certain number of the potions memorized. She already knew the first-year book practically by heart because she'd read it so many times.
"You can do it," Granville said. "Hey, since you're teaching the big group, I suppose I can start attending the class, too," he said.
"You don't need that class," Tacita snapped. She'd worked very hard to make sure he didn't.
"Only because you explain it so I can understand. I get nervous when I'm in class. Slughorn's intimidating," Granville said.
For a moment Tacita was left speechless. "We're talking about the same Professor Slughorn, right?" she finally got out.
"I have to agree with Stumphead," Grimwold said, earning a glare from his brother for his "affectionate nickname." "Slughorn's intimidating, just not… he's not physically intimidating like Hagrid. It's everybody he knows. He participated in the Battle of Hogwarts, and he knows everybody. The difference is that he likes you. I bet if you keep up being this good in Potions, in a few years he'll wrangle you into the Slug Club. Me and Granville don't stand a chance of getting in. We have no connections or super-special talent. My mother's trying to get me to impress Slughorn enough to get an invite to one of his Slug Club events."
"Then your mother's intimidating, not Professor Slughorn," Tacita said definitively, as if that settled the matter. It did for her, anyway. "But Granville, I help you out anyway, so why do you have to come to remedial potions?" she asked.
"I'm doing well on the essays," Granville said. "But I'll do better if I can get your help brewing the actual potions. Come on Tasi, it'll be good for both of us. I can be there for support," he pointed out.
Tacita frowned. "I don't need you to hold my hand," she snapped.
"I'm not saying that," Granville said. "Look, you're the only reason I'm not failing Potions and Herbology. I help you with History of Magic, but that's not really a fair trade, so let me be there for you, okay?" he asked. After a moment of silence, Tacita nodded and Granville's mouth split in a grin. "Awesome!"
"It could have been worse," Granville said quietly. His normal smile was gone.
"How?" Tacita demanded softly.
"Someone could have died," Granville offered.
"Yeah, well, there's that," Tacita said bitterly.
The pair walked quietly through the halls. They'd already passed their common room and the kitchens. It was late enough that most people had somewhere to be; either a class, or the library, or detention. They needed to be heading back so they wouldn't miss curfew, but Granville wasn't going to turn Tacita around yet.
Her fast day of tutoring had gone…badly.
"Granville, is this really all because of my parents, or do I bring it on myself?" Tacita asked.
Granville chewed on his bottom lip. "A little of both, I think," he said. Tacita would rather be insulted than lied to, he knew that. "They all think you're one way, and with what happened at the beginning of the year…and how quiet you are…they don't figure they have to think past any of that," he said.
"That girl, Virginia Stumps," Tacita said.
"Yeah?" Graneville asked.
"I think I hate her," Tacita said.
"I don't blame you; she's nasty," Granville said.
It had gone wrong from the beginning. They'd arrived early so Tacita could get instructions from Slughorn. Her job would be to wander around between the students and gently suggest fixes and try to guide them into making the potion the right way. Granville had been nervous before things even started.
"It's just a Wiggenweld Potion; it's easy," Tacita had told him.
"Easy for you, maybe," Granville had muttered under his breath as the other students came in. There was a good smattering of students, Three Hufflepuffs, three Gryffindors, two Slytherins, and a Ravenclaw. None of them looked happy to see Tacita, especially when Slughorn informed them that she would be assisting them with the Wiggenweld Potion.
No matter what Tacita had said, the potion was not easy. Granville struggled with it, badly, and Tacita kept having to monitor him. Three times, she caught him right before he made a terrible mistake. Unlike the others, to whom she didn't even want to speak, she openly berated Granville. When Slughorn left to get something from his office, leaving her in charge, she didn't even notice because she was trying to explain to Granville why the potion had to be made in a specific order.
"Gee, you think if I was her boyfriend, she'd give me attention like that, too?" the Ravenclaw, Virginia Stumps, asked loudly, making the others laugh.
"Do you need something?" Tacita asked in her normal quiet voice.
"Oh, nothing," Virginia said. "I was just wondering if I had famous parents like you, if I would be Slughorn's favorite, too?" she asked.
"That's not right," Granville defended. "Tacita works really hard on Potions. You're just jealous because you got stuck here," he said.
Virgina's cheeks flushed, and she glared at him before a nasty smile crossed her face. "At least I'm not going to be crazy in a few years," she said.
"What does that mean?" Tacita asked coldly. If Grimwold had been there, he would have known that provoking Tacita past that was a bad idea.
"Exactly what its sounds like. Everyone knows insanity runs in bloodlines. With how strong it was in yours, you'll probably be using Unforgivable Curses and murdering people before you graduate," Virginia said.
And it all went downhill from there.
"Are we heading somewhere?" Granville asked.
"Not really…I just didn't want to be around people right now," she said.
"Oh," Granville said.
"Don't worry, you're not people," Tacita said.
"Gee, thanks," Granville said. Tacita turned around to look at him, and he smiled, knowing she'd been teasing him. He quickened his stride to walk next to her instead of behind her. "So, was Slughorn really harsh?"
"Well, he told me that it was wrong to cast a Batbogey Hex on someone I was supposed to be teaching, and that he's taking me off the job until after break, so he can think it over," she said.
"That's not good," he said, about to look sympathetic.
"But I think he's going to let me come back after break," she added.
"Really?"
"Well, he also said that he hadn't seen a Batbogey Hex that inspired since Ginny Weasley," she added with a shrug.
"Really? You mean the one who plays Quidditch with the Hollyhead Harpies? Harry Potter's wife?" Granville asked.
"Yes, and you don't need to gush. She's not here to see it."
"But that's amazing! How do you know that spell? I mean, I know it, but not well enough to cast it," Granville said.
"It's my aunt's favorite. I must have seen her use it at least a dozen times or more," Tacita said. "But I was also really…angry? I don't think I could do it again, at least not that good, without a lot of practice," she admitted.
"You were pretty angry…" Granville said, trailing off. "Hey, I mean, if Slughorn's going to let you back, why are you so upset?"
Tacita stopped walking and went completely silent. "You know that Gryffindor, what's his name…? Sander?" she asked.
"Yeah, what about him?"
"He had a whole unicorn's horn sitting on his desk," she responded.
"So?"
"So, the spell we were making only needed powdered unicorn's horn. Those are really expensive, so the whole thing is only used for a really powerful potion," Tacita said, sounding surprisingly upset.
"You're miffed because he was wasting money?" Granville asked, not getting it at all.
"No, I'm upset because…because it was there. I'm upset…" she took a big breath and let it out. "I'm upset because when I got angry at Stumps, the first thing I thought of doing was stabbing her with that horn…and not just that. I really, really wanted to do it. I could see her screaming in pain …I really enjoyed that image." She sounded scared. "I got mad because…what if she's right? My dad said that illness got passed down on genes, but what about insanity?"
Granville stared at her for a moment. "So you hexed her because you didn't want to stab her?" he asked.
"Isn't that what I just said?"
"Yeah, but you didn't stab her," Granville pointed out. "As long as you're in control, it's fine." He said it as if that were the end of it. He looked down at his watch and reached out, tugging on the sleeve of her robe. "Come on, we're going to be late if we don't turn back now." He tugged her back toward their common room.
"I'm not sure it's that simple," she said as she walked back with him.
"And I'm sure it is," he responded, looking back at her with a smile. "Look, you didn't stab her, so don't worry about it. Worry about it when—if—you do stab someone. Until then, it's Christmas soon, and we get to go home and get presents."
"Not me," Tacita said gloomily.
"What do you mean by that?" Granville asked, stopping to look back at her.
"I'm staying here over break," Tacita said.
"Why?" Granville asked. "We can stay here any year. You should have at least waited until I got permission to stay too!" He protested.
"It's not that," Tacita said.
"Then what is it?"
"I haven't spoken to my Aunt since term started…I don't think she's going to want me back," she said quietly.
"Oh Tasi, I'm sorry," Granville said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Maybe you can come stay with us for the holidays?"
"That's sweet, but you haven't even told them that we're friends yet," she pointed out, making the boy flush. They'd already talked about the idea that his parents probably wouldn't be happy with him being friends with her. "You can invite me next year, after you've told them," she said. "I don't mind staying here."
"Yes, you do."
"Okay. Yes, I do, but I'm okay," she said. "Now come on, curfew," she said, striding past him, leaving Granville to catch up.
"Professor Longbottom. Can I speak to you for a moment?" Granville asked, knocking on Neville Longbottom's door as he stepped inside.
Professore Longbottom looked up from the papers he was grading. "Of course, Mr. Jorkins. Is it a house matter, or a class matter?" he asked.
"House. But have you graded my paper yet?" Granville asked, stepping in and shutting the door, eyeing the papers on the Herbology professor's desk.
"Yes. Don't worry, you did fine," Professor Longbottom said. "You had some help from your friends, right?" he asked.
"Yes, Professor…is that bad?" Granville asked.
"Not as long as you can pass the final, it's not," the professor responded, putting his quill down. "Have a seat, and let's talk."
"It's about my friend," Graville said slowly.
"Oh?" Neville asked having heard the "it's-my-friend-who's-actually-me" speech a lot already.
"I'm worried for Tacita," Granville said. "She's signed up to stay for the holidays," he said quickly.
Professor Longbottom raised an eyebrow. He hadn't exactly expected this. "I'm afraid that's her choice."
"No, Professor Longbottom. I mean…she told me that she isn't going home because her aunt hasn't sent her a letter since near the start of term," Granville said.
"Is there something you think I can do about this?" the professor asked.
"Well, Tacita said in Muggle schools, they have parent-teacher conferences…so I thought maybe you could have one of those with her aunt." He was suddenly feeling nervous for even suggesting it.
"I'll see what I can do, Mr. Jorkins, is there anything else?"
"No, sir."
"Then I need to get back to work."
"Of course," Granville said, standing. "Have a good evening, Professor," he added as he exited the room.
He wasn't exactly sure what made him do it, but he had a feeling it was the hopeful look in Granville Jorkins's eyes. He wasn't the brightest student, but he was loyal and hardworking, the quintessential Hufflepuff. He'd seen the young man with Tacita Lestrange for a while, but somehow he'd never believed that they were actually friends. From the moment Granville Jorkins had come requesting help for his friend, Neville Longbottom had been chastising himself for that. At the beginning of the year, he'd needed to continually remind himself that Tacita Lestrange was a child, and children acted like children.
He'd needed that reminder when Slughorn chortled about the excellent Batbogey Hex she'd cast on a Ravenclaw first-year. The reality was that he didn't spend every hour of his life thinking about the Lestrange family, and as the semester had dragged on, his thoughts had gone more to his own family, or his own friends, or even what he'd be doing for the holidays. Slughorn's laughing reminder had been jarring enough to make him wonder about her again. The fact that Slughorn had complemented the girl's hex as being one of the best he'd seen from a student in years made Neville raise an eyebrow. It had made him wonder again if she would be like her parents.
It also reminded him that students often had a something in them naturally that they were very good at. Harry had been the youngest Seeker in a century. Hermione had been lauded for being able to solve logic problems few adult wizards could. Ron was one of the best chess players Hogwarts had ever seen. Professor Sprout told Neville himself in his second year that he was the most promising Herbology student she'd seen in her entire tenure. Being good at a hex didn't make Tacita Lestrange abnormal; at least, no more abnormal than Neville's year.
Jorkins coming to his office and asked for help for her simply reminded Neville again that Tacita was just a girl, just a child. Neville was the adult, and he needed to act like it. Parent-professor conferences weren't unheard of, but they normally involved the parents coming to Hogwarts for the conference. Neville doubted a request for such a meeting would do anything but cause more problems, which was why he was now standing in front of the house of Vega Lestrange.
It reminded him of the Weasley house in that it was isolated from the normal Muggle houses. He'd needed to be directed to the Lestrange house once he found the right village. The Muggles had given him odd looks for wanting to visit there before he explained that he was the young Lestrange child's teacher. After that, they'd given him warnings but pointed him the right direction.
Some wizards would never have been able to ask for directions from Muggles, but one of the requirements for being an Auror was the ability to blend in when necessary, and that meant being able to look like a Muggle. He had a few very nice suits for just such occasions. Of course, it was unlikely to win him a new friend with Vega Lestrange, but he wasn't coming for this little visit to make friends. From what he'd heard from the Muggles, Vega Lestrange was haughty, and while she lived in the old squire's home, the villagers thought that the house was the last bit of wealth her family actually had. She treated them like she was better than they, but they all had the idea that she was constantly trying to get enough money together to buy bread.
Neville could see it in the way the yard was kept. The Burrow's yard was every bit like the house it surrounded, but there was warmth to the growth; there was life. This house, though large with a wide lawn, looked like it had once been beautiful and elegant. It was still beautiful, but its glory was faded under dusty porches, overgrown plants, untended topiaries, broken fences, and the fact that everything could have used a fresh coat of paint didn't help matters any. The windows looked sparkling, though, suggesting that maybe the inside wasn't so rundown, that there was at least some pride in the upkeep of the house, and the Lestrange name.
Observations like that had been drilled into his head when he'd trained to be an Auror, and it had saved his skin more than once. He pulled out his wand and cast a non-verbal shield charm, keeping a wary eye out. "State your business before I hex you," came a sudden hiss from behind him. Apparently he hadn't been wary enough.
Neville took a steady breath, glad for the shield charm. "Mrs. Lestrange? I'm Tacita's head of house; I came to speak with you concerning your niece." He spoke clearly.
"You came to speak to me… dressed like a Muggle?" she asked, and he Neville couldn't tell if she was angry or disbelieving. "State your name, boy," she demanded.
"Neville Longbottom," he said. Maybe if he were still a student, he would have hesitated or stuttered. Then again, he rather doubted it; not when faced with a Lestrange with a wand on him. If he was going to die at the hands of the people who'd tortured his parents, he wasn't going to stutter or beg. He would die with his head held high. Of course, it wasn't that dramatic this time.
"You're kidding me!" the woman exclaimed. She kept her wand trained on him and slowly walked around to face him. He'd never actually seen Vega Lestrange before. Like Bellatrix, she'd married into the family, and like Bellatrix he imagined she'd once been a very handsome woman. Now, though, her brown hair, cut unflatteringly short, looked like it belonged to someone at least ten years older than she had to be. Her skin was tight, but not in a healthy way. She was incredibly skinny, and he could see some sagging of the skin around her particularly bony elbows. There were wrinkles around her eyes and the corners of her lips. She looked like someone who'd seen too much life, someone who was not a healthy weight and he wondered if her incredible skinniness was from vanity or a lack of funds.
"I assure you, ma'am, the only thing that got me out here was a rather desperate plea from one of my students," he said. He gave the witch a level look until she lowered her wand, and he lowered his.
"You have a lot of brass," she said in a way that he couldn't tell was condescending or approving. "Follow me." she walked inside. It was at that point that he noticed a rather old and tattered invisibility cloak over her arm. A cloak like that wouldn't conceal anyone that well if they were moving. Constant vigilance; that was the mark of a good Auror. He may be a Herbology teacher now, but he'd left his old position because he preferred plants, not because he hadn't been good at his job. It now looked like he needed to remember some of his old Auror lessons.
Vega Lestrange led him inside. He was right to guess that the house was better cared-for on the inside. Even still, the furniture seemed ancient, and as he was led into the living room, he wondered if he would break the sofa if he sat on it.
"Pipsy!" the woman called, and an old house elf tottered out.
"Yes, Mistress?" the elf asked in a voice that may have been high pitched in his younger years.
"Refreshments," Vega said, walking to the sturdiest looking chair in the room and falling gracefully onto it. "Sit," she ordered Neville. He found the second-sturdiest chair and lowered himself carefully into the seat.
"Mrs. Lestrange—" he started, feeling the oddest sensation of those particular words falling off his tongue.
"Why are you here, Mr. Longbottom?" the woman asked, with mockery in her tone as she came to his last name.
"I'm here because a student—"
"Asked you to. I heard you the first time, Longbottom," the woman said. "So, my niece asked you to come, then."
"Actually, no. I'm not even sure she knows I'm here," Neville said. "One of her friends asked me to speak with you." Maybe that wasn't the best thing to reveal, but Vega Lestrange was talking to him, and neither of them were trying to hex each other's ears off, yet.
"Probably some Muggle-loving Hufflepuff," she muttered.
"I can't really attest to the Muggle-loving part," Neville said, nodding to the house elf as it brought him a drink. "But all of this is beside the point. Mrs. Lestrange, is it true that you haven't been in contact with your niece since start of term?" he asked.
"Is it the business of Hogwarts if I haven't?" she asked defensively.
"No, I suppose not," Neville admitted. "But, your niece has signed up to stay at Hogwarts over holiday break. Are you aware of that?"
Vega Lestrange sat very still for a moment. "No, I was not aware of that," she said.
"I can still get her name off the list if you want her home," Neville said, feeling like he was walking into dangerous waters now.
"She's already made her choice," the woman said, quickly and dismissively. Maybe Neville would have let it go, but he'd heard his Gran use that tone before. The most memorable time was when he'd broken a little clay pot his father had made as a boy. Gran had been very hurt, but she'd spoken of it as if it had been nothing.
"I'm sure she'd be willing to come home if she thought you wanted her to come. Mrs. Lestrange, I understand that you weren't happy with her being sorted into Hufflepuff," he said, knowing it was a rather large understatement, "but your niece is only eleven, and you're the adult. I imagine that she would like to know that you still want her. You are her only family, am I correct?"
"Not only, but the Malfoys are…less than happy to have us around," Vega said, sniffing in a rather snooty fashion. "Tell me, Professor Longbottom," she sneered over his name, "are you really here because you are fond of Tacita?"
"No. Actually, I rather prefer to not be around her if I can help it," he said.
"Truly?" she asked, and he wondered if she actually sounded pleased, or if it was simply his imagination.
"There are some things that are not…easily forgiven, even after the offenders are dead," he said simply.
"And yet you're here," she pointed out. "In a Lestrange house."
"Yes, but then, I too had to be reminded that I'm the responsible adult in charge," he said. "Frankly, I hope to never have to return here, or see you again, in my life. And I should hope to never see your niece again once she finishes schooling, or sooner."
Vega Lestrange nodded, sipping the drink Pipsy had brought earlier. "Is there anything else, Longbottom?"
"No, I believe that's all," he said.
"Then I suggest you leave," she said as he stood.
"Gladly," Neville said, finishing off his drink and heading for the door. There was no goodbye or any other parting words. For a brief moment, the two had been able to find a common connection. But as soon as the moment was gone, Neville knew he had a very short window of time before they'd be crossing wands. Another thing he knew was that Tacita Lestrange would be going home for Christmas break.
Two days later, a letter arrived in the mail for Tacita Lestrange. She was very startled when a post owl dropped the letter in front of her. She wondered for a moment who would be writing her, as she'd stopped expecting mail from her aunt. When she saw who it was from, she merely stared, somewhat afraid to open it. Finally, Granville tried to slip the envelope from her fingers, only for her to tighten her grip until he couldn't get it away.
"Fine, then. You open it," Granville said, almost as anxious as his friend. After his meeting with Professor Longbottom, he'd wondered if he had done the right thing. Sometimes, he was strongly convinced that he had; other times he felt a certain type of sick out of guilt. He hadn't told his friend what he'd done. She'd confided a very private kind of pain, and the first thing he'd done was gone and told someone else. He didn't think she'd appreciate it.
"Fine," Tacita said quietly. She carefully broke the seal, the Lestrange Family crest set in emerald wax. Tacita had a seal set as well, though her line used black ink, in reference to her mother. She knew that from letters she'd found that her father had sent before and after his marriage. Before the marriage, he'd used the emerald-colored wax as well.
Granville was half-certain he would scream if she didn't pull the letter our any faster. He wanted to know what it said. He was about to try and tug the envelope out of her hands again when she slowly lifted the letter out and unfolded it. After that, he wasn't sure he could remember how to breathe. Her eyes quickly ran over the words before flicking to him.
"Aunt Vega says that she wants me to come home for Christmas," she said.
"That's great!" Granville said instantly, hoping that his happy tone would keep her from telling him why she was looking at him so pointedly.
"That's not all," she said. "She said that while she'd been very disappointed in my getting into Hufflepuff, that she also doesn't hate me for it. She simply thinks that I failed to live up to my potential, and that I won't do well in Hufflepuff." She said this in a way that made him think that she thought it was true as well.
"Oh," Granville said, shifting a little under the girl's look. Why couldn't she stop looking at him like that?
"Yes, oh," she said, her tone getting a little sharper. "She also said that Professor Longbottom came to visit her…saying something about a friend of mine asking him to."
"Really. How interesting," he said, trying to sound off-handed.
"Granville," Tacita said. For just a moment, Granville wondered if her famous mother had been able to speak in such a way. Granville didn't normally speak about the woman, especially after he found out that he knew more about her than her own daughter. Secretly, Granville had a rather morbid fascination with the players in the Battle of Hogwarts.
"Okay, I went to him," Granville admitted. "I was worried, and you were really upset," he said. "I didn't tell you 'cause I thought you'd be angry," he said, which now, he thought, he'd been very spot on about.
"Angry," she asked, sounding, to him, surprisingly perplexed.
"Because you told me something secret…and then I went and told someone else," he said, chewing on his bottom lip. "I don't want you to be mad at me, but I'm not sorry," he said, holding his head a little higher than he normally did.
Tacita looked at him before looking back down at the letter. She was silent long enough that Granville started to get nervous, and then he started to get really worried when she still didn't speak. "I've thought about it," she finally said, making him sigh in relief, which earned him a tiny twitch of the lips from her. "I'm not happy with you, and I will be angry if you do it again…but I'm not." She looked back at the letter, reading it again, this time more slowly. "But…it was very kind, what you did," she said softly.
Granville sat there for a moment, looking stunned. He'd expected her to get really angry. He could normally entice her into yelling, but that was more fun because she wasn't really angry when she yelled. If he got her really, really mad, she just wouldn't speak at all. The silence worried him when he was with her. It was particularly troubling because silence seemed to be her default.
"So that's what it takes to make you stop talking." Tacita sounded amused. She stood up and gathered her books together. "Well, come on," she said.
Granville scrambled to get his things together. "Where are we headed?" he asked, following her out of breakfast.
"I need you to tell Professor Longbottom to take my name off the list of people staying for Christmas," she said. The list had been removed from the common room the day before.
"Why can't you do that yourself?" he asked.
"Because Professor Longbottom doesn't like me very much, and I don't like being around him. I'll be there, but you have to tell him," she said. "You told him about my problem in the first place, so you might as well finish it," she said.
"You are angry, aren't you?" he asked.
"No, I'm not angry," she said, as they headed to the professor's office. "But if you're going to butt into my affairs, there are consequences." She said this with a thoroughly pleasant smile that made him shiver. He needed to be sure never to get on her bad side.
"Okay, fine," he muttered as they finished their walk. He knocked the door, pushing it open when he heard the 'come in'.
"Professor Longbottom?" Granville said as he stepped in, looking up at their professor.
Professor Longbottom looked up from what he was doing, which was quickly pulling on his outside robe. It was made to get dirt all over it, but he didn't wear it except when he was out in the greenhouses, and then only over his normal attire. "What is it?" he asked.
Granville felt Tacita poke his side, and he realized he was supposed to say something. "Um…Tacita needs you to take her name off the stay-list," he said.
"Already taken care of," the professor said. "Now, it's almost time for class, go," he said, shooing them out so he could finish getting ready.
The pair quickly shooed, though Tacita looked a bit troubled. "How did he know to take care of it?" she asked.
"Maybe your aunt told him when he was there," he suggested. "Don't worry about it. Look, last Potions class today. Do you want to be late?"
"No, I don't suppose so," Tacita said, letting herself be led down to the dungeons.
Christmas break started only a day later. Tacita, who hadn't packed at all previously, was suddenly scrambling to get all her things together. She rather wished she could get Granville up to help her, but the stairs had already turned to a slide when he tried to come up and drop off some notes. There was no point risking that useless experiment anymore. She knew she'd be happy when she could learn the spell to make her things pack themselves.
Time came for them to be finished, and she'd finished just in time to pull on her Muggle clothes. Some people, like her aunt, dressed up in such a way that they would often get stares in Muggle areas, but Muggle dress rarely received stares in Wizarding areas. It was part of why Tacita preferred her Muggle dress outside of school. In school, she spent most of her time in her uniform.
She hurried down the stairs to where Granville and Grimwold were waiting for her. "Took you long enough," Grimwold said, surly since Slytherin had won against Ravenclaw. Tacita didn't understand the math of it all, but somehow beating Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff's first match after break, meant that it would be harder for Hufflepuff to win the Quidditch cup. She didn't question it much.
"It took as long as it took," she said blandly, standing next to Granville. Really, she wondered if Granville would look like his brother when he got older. She hadn't thought much of Grimwold until she'd seen him in his Quidditch uniforms. She'd heard one of the girls say anyone looked good in the uniform, and she'd supposed it was true until now. Uniforms really didn't suit anyone, but she wondered why Grimwold looked so different in Muggle clothes than in his uniform. He looked rather…handsome in Muggle clothes.
Tacita looked down at the book she had tucked under her arm to hide her blush. "I need to drop this off at the library," she said.
"I got a few myself. I'll go with you," Grimwold said. He had a pile, really. "Hey, Stumphead, we'll see you at breakfast." Grimwold grabbed up his books and headed out the common room entrance, Tacita following behind him.
"Why do you have so many books?" she asked.
"Muggle studies and Arthimancy," Grimwold said.
"Those don't sound like things you're interested in," she said.
"They aren't," Grimwold said. "Mom told me to take them." He shrugged. "Arithmancy isn't so bad, but Muggle Studies is…odd. They've had a hard time getting a teacher since the last one got eaten by a snake."
"When was that?" Tacita asked, surprised she hadn't heard about it.
"Back when Voldemort was still alive," he said. "It's been a few years, but they haven't found anyone good. The current lady has no idea. I mean, I have no idea, but she really has no clue what she's talking about," he said. "Some of the kids hang on her every word, but I don't think Muggles used electricity because it could power their home electronics."
"No, it was because it was more efficient and more powerful than what came before it: candles, fires, coal," she said. She wrinkled her nose a little. "That doesn't sound very good."
"It's not. I don't think she's going to be here next year. I heard they already have some new guy lined up," he said as they rounded the corner to the library.
"Grimwold?" Tacita asked as she waited for him to put his books in the drop box one by one under the careful gaze of Madame Pince.
"Yeah?" he asked, distracted.
"Is Granville going to tell your parents about me?" she asked quietly, and it wasn't her normal type of quiet. It was more anxious and unsure. Tacita was rarely unsure about anything, and that was why Grimwold turned to look at her.
"I don't know," he said. "My parents are very strongly anti-Death-Eater," he said. "I think maybe they're ashamed that they didn't speak up when it mattered." He had a somewhat low opinion of his parents, though Granville didn't seem to share that view. "He's just scared. Our parents are rather intimidating."
"Intimidating like Slughorn?" she asked, surprising a laugh out of Grimwold, which made her smile a little, though she didn't notice.
"Yeah, I doubt you'd be afraid of them, but they are our parents. We're contractually obligated to be afraid of them." He finished with his books and let the girl slip her own into the drop-box before escorting her down to breakfast. On the way she asked him about Arithmancy until he figured out that she was considering taking it when she started her third year.
Breakfast was a fairly loud affair, as everyone was happy for the end of classes and Christmas. Granville chattered about plans, explained how their family did Christmas, while Tacita nodded along. If she didn't interrupt him, Granville would talk forever, but she was normally content to listen, or at least nod along and stay quiet. Today was no exception. Consequently, Granville was one of the last done with lunch, so the three were some of the last in the coaches to Hogsmeade Station.
When the coaches arrived at the station they said their goodbyes, since the Jorkins were waiting for them there. Granville hung back at the coaches and Tacita felt hurt because she knew that he was hiding her from his parents. "Bye, Tacita. I'll see you when term starts up again," Granville said.
"Bye, Stumphead," Tacita said before hopping up to Grimwold and wrapping her arms around him in a rather uncharacteristic hug. "Bye Grimwold, have a good holiday." She waved and walked to the train. She felt like someone had slapped her from Granville's actions. Though for just a moment she'd felt a very distracting warmth when she'd hugged Grimwold. She set aside that feeling, though, not wanting to examine what it meant. Instead, she focused on her hurt. Granville was a nice guy, and he was protective of her during school, but she'd never say he was the bravest guy, especially when it came to his parents.
She sighed and let that go. It would be easy to focus on hurt feelings that came from being related to someone who people still feared and hated. She couldn't describe how it made her feel. She could say she felt sad, or frustrated, but it was different than that. She hadn't been able to find words for that feeling, but it felt like they were right on the tip of her tongue, which was just infuriating.
Tacita set aside all of her darker feelings as she found a seat on the train. She needed to focus on Christmas presents, and when she'd have time to buy anything, and if she'd be able to swing by the library at any point to try and get the dictionary she wanted for her science book. Those things were much more concrete worries, and she could handle the concrete, even if they were set in stone.
(A/N: Yes, I know this is ridiculously long. On final count it's 7,200+ words, and 24 pages long. I'm officially in England now, and I really don't have time to updates much, mostly because I'm either walking around the town or trying to finish the books I need to finish. Anyway, think you so much for reading. Reviews are much loved! Thank you!)