Hello people!
Check back in later chapters for OCs, not going to include until I get a couple more readers..
KEEP REVIEWING… it makes me write faster :D
Sorry about the shortness, but this is all I can get out with AP exams and finals coming up. Review!
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Draco Malfoy woke up with a screaming headache. It took the Slytherin a moment or two to realize he was in the hospital wing. A cursory glance at the clipboard on the nightstand told him that he had been checked in the night before. To his left were the large, paneled windows looking out over the Hogwarts Lake. To his right slept Ariadne Nocturne. Her hand supported her chin, and the mass of blonde hair tumbled across her face and down her arm messily. His pale eyes raked over her form hungrily. He wasn't sure if it was a potion Madam Pomfrey gave him, but it was one of the first times he did not feel jealousy or discontent when he looked at his fellow Slytherin. It might've been because she was sleeping, but Draco ruled that out. It was rubbish, the way that she infuriated him. She was always one step ahead.
As if hearing his mental ranting, the eyes of the young witch fluttered open slowly. Draco quickly slapped a scowl on his pale face and glared at his classmate.
"Why was I brought here, Nocturne?"
"Everyone realized you're mentally impaired at the same time. It was phenomenal." Draco shot up out of his covers and faced his rival.
"Don't tell me I've lost the duel to Taminama!" Draco kicked himself mentally. It was so embarrassing to lose to a half-blood. He couldn't imagine the horror of losing to a mudblood, either. Ariadne's eyes narrowed into slits as she hissed, "Yes, you prat, Hiro kicked your arse. And the way you looked, he's probably going to be transferred to Durmstrang. So, that being said, you're welcome for dragging your stupid sorry arse all the way from the dungeons!"
Draco's eyes widened involuntarily. He knew he had struck a nerve, and for a split second remorse stole across his stomach.
Wait, remorse?
He opened his mouth to apologize, but Ariadne had already left in an angry stupor.
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"The both of them are to be branded as Death Eaters over the Christmas holiday." a dark voice hissed. The two sets of adults bowed before their serpentine master and nodded. An enormous snake slid from the billows of the Dark Lord's cloak and pooled in coils on the mahogany floors. It was raining at the Malfoy Manor that evening, and the roaring fire in the marble-cut hearth threw the shadows of the Death Eaters into sharp relief. Bellatrix Lestrange leaned against the hearth with her thin arms crossed, glaring out the window and into the distance. Around twelve or thirteen Death Eaters attended the meeting that night, including Crabbe, Goyle, the Malfoys, the Nocturnes, the Carrow siblings, Dolohov, FenrirGreyback, Yaxley, and Peter Pettigrew. The rodent-like animagus scuttled from seat to seat, refilling wine glasses and clearing plates.
"My lord, do you really think these two are ready for such duties? Killing Albus Dumbledore is quite a hefty task." Bellatrix cooed from the window. Voldemort's eyes darted to his subordinate and narrowed.
"We shall have to see, Bella." he laid a white hand on Nagini's head. "Together, they show spectacular potential. From what Snape has told me, the girl can produce a Patronus. This fact should prove useful when trying to masquerade as a 'good' Slytherin." Bellatrix shrugged in response and resumed staring out towards the grounds.
"Did you hear that, Mrs. Nocturne? Young Ariadne's Patronus is a lion!" a thin smile cracked across the Dark Lord's lips and the room erupted into laughter. Mrs. Nocturne, always a proud woman, grew red in anger.
"And since when could any of you produce a Patronus?" the laughter cut instantly, albeit Voldemort continued with a quiet chuckle.
"Moving along now, Nocturne. I need you and your husband to terrorize the Muggles in downtown London. I want to see deaths in the headlines. Get out of my sight."
With a firm nod, Adrian Nocturne clasped the small hand of his wife and they spun out of sight. "Now, Narcissa. With those two out of the picture, I need Ariadne to come here for the Christmas break. If the Nocturnes make it back alive, invite them. Ariadne must be here. That girl is too kind to be a Slytherin."
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September ended without a grand flourish. An early snowstorm blanketed the grounds for three days straight. Ariadne watched the snow fall out of the single window in the Dungeons. Double potions with Gryffindor was getting arduous—today Snape demanded of them a near-perfect draught of Amortentia.
"We will be doing an interesting experiment with these tomorrow—so you'd better hope you brew it correctly." he leaned over Seamus Finnigan's cauldron and retched audibly—the smell of burning hair was pungent enough to choke a hippogriff.
Ariadne passively flipped to the page on Amortentia and rolled her eyes. The famed Amortentia project Snape always gave seventh years. It was rumored that Snape does something utterly embarrassing with them. She hoped he wouldn't reveal what was attractive to everyone. Malfoy grumbled at her side, surely a complaint about her making him get all of the ingredients. He shoved from his chair and yanked on his dragon hide gloves with a scowl.
"Oh, grow up. I always get the ingredients." Ariadne snapped.
"Everyone, please remember: 'Powerful infatuations can be induced by the skillful potioneer, but never yet has anyone managed to create the truly unbreakable, eternal, unconditional attachment that alone can be called Love'." with a flick of Snape's wand, the famous quote appeared on the chalkboard behind him. Draco came back with one Ashwinder egg, around seven rose thorns, a pinch of dried peppermint, some crushed moonstone powder, and the petals of a newly-bloomed belladonna flower.
"Put the Ashwinder in first." Ariadne ordered.
"Where does it say that, Nocturne?" the blonde raised an indignant brow.
"In the directions, you git! Now if you're going to muss up our potion, I'll do it myself! Make yourself useful and complete the worksheet!" Draco mocked her 'angry' voice and took the worksheet from his partner.
"Hand me all the ingredients before you soil them with your ugly." Malfoy's icy eyes narrowed as he swiped the ingredients across the lab table with his right arm.
"Bitch." he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?"
"I said witch, Nocturne."
"Oh, go suck a niffler then."
"Right after you, milady." Ariadne slapped her hand against the table, making the potion bubble dangerously close to the brim of their cauldron. With a scathing glare she added the rose thorns, which had been thoroughly crushed and mixed with the moonstone powder. The yolk of the Ashwinder egg broke from its shell and swirled with the clear liquid, flaring bright orange before darkening to the color of fresh blood.
"Miss Nocturne. Your potion is surprisingly….accurate. Did Granger help you?" Snape said suddenly, appearing from nowhere in a sweeping of cloaks.
"No, sir. Just following directions is all."
"Oh, really? I thought you were making it up as you went all this time. Good to see you not melting all of my spare cauldrons." with a sneer only Snape could give, he gave her potion a few stirs before stalking away.
"Well, all I have to do is add one pearl, and it's done." Ariadne was careful not to touch the pearl's surface with her fingers. Once the tiny sphere dropped into the brew, it dissolved instantly and the potion faded to a pale pink. The swirling, spiral-like tendrils of smoke curled from the brim of their cauldron. Ariadne smelled a chlorinated pool, the sharp scent of orange blossoms, and something…spicier…like cedar, or pine. Her nose wrinkled involuntarily.
"Smell something repugnant, Ari?" Blaise Zabini snickered. The smoke from his potion was billowing and a sickly green. "Maybe it's Malfoy's arse." Ariadne agreed half-heartedly. Where have I smelled that scent before? Her mental concentration was broken by a sudden interjection.
"Here is the twist." Snape snatched a vial from the recesses of his robes and dipped it into Ariadne's cauldron. He plucked a greasy hair from his head and shoved it in the glass before pushing in the stopper. The tiny vial glowed a brilliant green before fading back into its pale pink predecessor.
"You all will insert a hair into your vial. Be sure to put the girls' vials on the left side of my desk, the boys' on my right, or there will be some….interesting repercussions."
One by one the students collected vials of their Amortentia (or their attempts at Amortentia) and pushed their hair into them. A long, wavy strand of Ariadne's turned the potion a hot red before calming again. Draco's turned a dark blue, while Blaise and Hermione's both turned purple. Harry Potter's flashed gold, while Ron's settled into a chocolate tone. Every time a student presented a vial to Snape, he unstoppered it, sniffed it, and if it didn't match his expectations, he handed the student an "F" and an accurate vial of the potion.
"Add your DNA and put it in the pile." he droned. Once the piles were complete and the dungeon's surfaces were gleaming, a crooked smirk splayed across the stoic professor's face.
"And now…" he swished his wand and the two piles of vials began shifting rapidly, mixing within themselves and removing the name labels from their surfaces. Another lazy flick of Snape's wrist and the bottles reassembled in straight lines.
"On your way out today please take a vial from the correct section. I must see you drink it in front of me, or I'll assign a twenty-inch essay to all of you." Snape ignored the groans and growls of outrage and commenced handing out the samples.
Draco wanted to pick Ariadne's. He knew it. He walked up to his professor's oak desk and stared for a good three minutes at the rows of perfectly identical vials. He could choose Ariadne's, sure, but it was more likely he'd pick Parkinson's, knowing his luck. The young Slytherin squeezed his eyes shut and snatched one randomly. Snape's left eyebrow twitched ever so slightly.
The young Malfoy took this as a sign of encouragement and downed the bottle in one gulp.
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Ariadne didn't start feeling the effects of the Amortentia until dinner time. As soon as the golden platters were overflowing with food, the mouthwatering scent of the cinnamon hit the Slytherin girl like a freight train. A moment of clarity informed her that no one had seen her little olfactory episode. In fact, it looked as if others were reacting similarly. She couldn't pinpoint the object of her artificial affections yet, and she felt the foggy, euphoric feeling begin to settle in her brain.
It was at that moment when Cormac McLaggen walked into the Great Hall. There was an unnamable gleam in his steely eyes—they scanned the entire hall until they landed on the witch beside her. She was tall-ish, with layered silver hair and glittering green eyes. Underneath her half-opened blazer was a Slytherin t-shirt, a checkered tie, and on her feet were silver vans. These chic punk-rock tones helped her diluted brain realize the fellow witch was Wyvern Silvers. Wyvern was a nice seventh year who was three beds away in the girls' dormitory. She was a positive person, and loved potions. When the girl realized that Cormac was striding toward her, her pale skin flushed red.
"Wyvern, Cormac got your potion!" her friend giggled. Wyvern shook her head furiously and almost began to cry.
"But I don't love him! I love…..I love….." she broke off as her eyes raked the masses of Hogwarts students. "Crabbe!" she sprinted from her place at the Slytherin table to tackle Crabbe to the floor. It was to no prevail, however, as he already was clawing at the leg of Millicent Bullstrode. Ariadne rolled her eyes and turned her attention toward her food.
She took three bites of her Salisbury steak when her blue-green eyes found Blaise Zabini.
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