If I had to point out one thing that I was quite familiar with, it'd be ignorance.
I have been at both the giving and receiving ends. But the truth was, I could only pretend to ignore people. Internally, I was dying to inform them of how aware I was. But I never did, of course. That would defeat the purpose.
So it felt quite odd when others ignored me. I never actually cared, but always felt extremely curious as to what they were really thinking. Were they feigning ignorance like I did, or did it come naturally to them?
But when Abraxas ignored me, I felt quite different.
Because I actually cared. I cared that the lad who never spoke meanly of others, nor felt the need to make anyone feel unwanted, was bothered by what I said to Granger, so much that he forced himself to ignore me the whole of dinner. It was inconvenient, too, because now I couldn't discuss what spell I had in mind for the next day.
Guess it'll just have to be a surprise.
So when he decided to talk the next morning, I was stuck between feeling relieved and feeling worse because I knew he'd try to make me guilty.
He didn't, though. "I trust you know what you're doing. What spell are we trying today?"
It was as simple as that. "I'll tell you when we get there. Bring your broom."
He was surprised. "What about you?"
"Just because I hate flying," I muttered, "Doesn't mean I don't own a broom. And get one for Granger."
She was there when we arrived, and I honestly wasn't surprised. But she seemed to edge away from the balcony of the tower as far as possible.
"Can you fly?" I asked her.
She looked up with wide eyes, and said in a dazed tone. "Good morning. I can, but why?"
"We need to get on the roof for what I want us to try," I said.
"You'll push me when we get there."
She said this in such a matter-of-fact tone, I felt the rage build up in me. "And you'll have a broom. What's the problem?"
In the darkness, she stood silently. I knew she was blushing.
"Why are you afraid of the open end?" Abraxas asked.
"I friend of mine hurled himself off – a tower," she said, "And sometimes I think if stand at the edge, I'd be tempted to jump."
"Only if you think too much," I said, bored. "But how inconvenient. Are you chickening out?"
She shook her head. "Who is going first?"
"Me," I stepped to the balcony. "I'm going to create an imaginary platform, for us to stand on. I'll explain the spell when we get to the very tip of the tower."
"Why not here?"
My mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "You'll die when you find out about the spell, Granger. I don't like chicken shits, so I thought I'd surprise you."
She huffed, but I knew she was more curious now.
I positioned myself at the edge, and broke off. A few moments later, I reached the roof. I grabbed the foot of the spike, and stood on the slant surface carefully. I took out my wand and whispered, "Topotendo."
I extended a foot, and on feeling a platform, walked onto it confidently. With every step I took, the platform would extend.
They flew in together, and warily stepped onto the surface. I explained the platform concept to Granger – Malfoy was already familiar with how it worked – and said, "Are you terribly afraid of heights, Granger?"
Abraxas snorted. "It sure did take her a while to get on her broom."
"I can tolerate it if I need to," she said timidly.
"I thought we could try a spell to enhance our senses. You'll have to whisper once you've applied it, or your eardrums will burst. But first, drink this, " I handed them flasks.
"It's just sugar – water," I told Granger when her eyes flashed suspiciously at me. "This spell won't take too much energy, but just to be safe."
"We're going to walk over the lake, on our platform," I explained, once they were done. "We'll test how far the spell works. I suggest you inspect your surroundings, because the spell also helps you identify places where possible portals could open into."
"What if we fall?" Granger asked.
I sighed. "Malfoy, it's your turn to try out webbing."
"About damned time," he pointed his wand at the lake. "Arachnedo!"
He carefully extended it, so as to cover the whole area.
"What just happened?" Granger asked, confused.
"Look carefully."
She did, and gasped.
Hovering over the lake, mid air, was a gigantic spider web, spread out. It was an effective net, and captured you were you to fall.
"Won't someone see?"
"We've mastered every dillusionment spell there is," said Malfoy. "This spell is only perceived by those who the caster allows."
"Are you ready?" They nodded. I pointed my wand to my head. "Synestho Aspadico."
Almost immediately I was engulfed by a million different feelings. I could hear the wind like hearing a storm, I could hear the birds flap about and call, and if I listened carefully, I could hear flowers hum as they embraced the dawn.
My skin felt extraordinary, and tingled at my fingertips. Everything looked crystal clear to me, and when I peered down at the lake, I could actually make out insects splayed about in the weed. The only unpleasant sense was that of smell, and if I were to focus on scent for too long I'd get a headache.
"It works brilliantly," I whispered to them.
I couldn't help but stare at Granger. Despite the very fragile rays of dawn, her face seemed to glow. She hadn't even combed her hair. In fact, it appeared that she had just gotten up from bed and come straight, here. She parted her lips, and I realised the only thing she'd done was clean her mouth.
Her lips were a bit chapped, her eyes looked sleepy yet sparkled, her forehead seemed pale and a bit feverish, and her hair was so messy, it covered half her face. But despite hating anything out of place, I loved looking at her like this. I marveled at the naturalness. I think I finally realised what people meant by the phrase, "The real you."
Briefly, I wondered how lovely Cassandra would look in the morning. But a part of me firmly believed that no other girl could possibly wake up with half the fire Granger seemed to possess.
They followed pursuit – not even stuttering at the spell, considering I'd only said it once – and openly gasped, overwhelmed.
"I'm going to start walking now," I whispered, and they followed, enchanted.
LEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEFTYLEF TYLEFTYLEFTY
"That was amazing," Granger breathed.
We were back at the tower, and I had muttered the reverse, leaving no trace of the spell or the spider web. We had explored for a good half hour, finding a few spots where we could actually defy the wards and create a portal at.
I myself was in an unusually good mood. "Which part did you like best?" I asked, grinning. "Walking mid air despite being afraid of heights, or smelling the dew of leaves? Or maybe it was the part where we watched the sunrays glitter over the lake and you could see a hundred different shades of orange and red!"
My smile did not strike them as odd. They could completely relate, after all.
"Where did you learn that spell?" she asked.
I was going to lie and tell her it was from a library book, but Abraxas decided to be honest. "He bought a huge stack of books during the summer. Saved up for it and took hours to pick them out."
"Was that supposed to be a dark spell?" She scrunched her nose. "If it is, I'm speechless. None of it seemed dark to me."
I shrugged. "Grindelwald's men have used it to trace innocent wizards and finish them off. But the Ministry doesn't realise it's a useful spell for Aurors, too." I studied her face. Even after the spell had faded, I found her morning face stunning and real. "If you're going to tell Dumbledore, also tell him to try the spell first. He might gain some sense that way."
"What makes you think I'll go to Dumbledore?" she asked, surprised.
"You do share looks with him during meals," I pointed out.
"He knows why I'm here. He won't interfere," she said softly.
"You rhymed!" I and Abraxas said at the same time – and promptly burst into laughter.
Granger looked at us, amused. "You two are just ordinary sixteen year olds," She said this in a tone of awe, and it got us snickering again.
"Oh, must have been a shocking realization, I knew we'd pass for eighty," Abraxas said sarcastically.
"You do act all tough, you know," she said pointedly. "Well, not you, Abraxas, but Riddle, at least. And neither of you do anything out of place – no rude comments, no badmouthing professors – except Dumbledore – and combing your hair to such a point that makes me want to barf."
"Mine's messed up in bed," Malfoy grinned devilishly. "Ask the girls."
She snorted. "Good try, Malfoy."
"Rhymed again!" We exclaimed. A pause, then he says, "Okay, not really."
The whole hall was buzzing with excitement about the year's first Hogsmeade trip. Everyone was scrambling about to ask Granger to go with them – the Gryffindors, Avery, the Slytherins, Avery, the freaking Librarian, and oh, how could I forget, Avery.
She responded in the same way: She was going with some of the seventh year Ravenclaw girls.
"Ravenclaws are acceptable, I guess," Avery muttered, plopping into his seat.
Granger was sitting with the Gryffindors today, so the seat next to mine was empty during breakfast.
During lunch, though, Bolarden calmly seated herself next to me.
"Hi, Tom," she greeted, smiling. I noticed her lips were covered with some sheen- liquid. Smooth, flawless, delectable. Doll like.
Nothing like Granger's peachy – pink, chapped pout in the morning.
I smiled politely, my neck feeling hot.
"Tom, I really don't mean to be rude," she said so sweetly, even if she had sworn at me she wouldn't have sounded rude, "But one of your parents is a muggle, right?"
"Was," I corrected absently. "My father's dead. My mother is, too, to come to think of it. But I do know about muggles, if that's what you're asking."
She took a moment to recover, then blushed. "You caught on fast," she said softly. "There's, um. There's this boy in Ravenclaw…"
My heart sank a bit. Of course.
"He's really cute," she gushed. "Sixth year. He asked me if I wanted to come over to his room – with friends, of course – and watch a movie."
So she was interested in a boy younger than her. I mentally noted that. "And you don't know what a movie is."
She blushed again. "No. I mean, I know how to creep into the Ravenclaw dorms in the evening, but is a movie, like, a dangerous hobby? Would I get caught?"
"A movie is something you watch," I explained. "Basically you watch a story on a wall. Like, a series of photographs. Except once the people in the photo stop moving, you move on to the next scene. It happens nonstop."
"Like, picturing a book?"
"Sort of," I agreed. "Now imagine your favourite story book. People you never knew start acting – but they won't actually be there. You watch them reveal the story in a series of clips. Except it's so real, you'll be impressed. In black and white, though."
"Oh. So, I won't get caught?"
"No."
"Great. Thanks." She kissed my cheek and ran off to the Ravenclaw table. I saw her talk to one of the boys, his dimples Visible from all the way here as he greeted her.
I'd never felt so warm in my life. The other Slytherins stared, shocked.
At the corner of my eye, I saw Malfoy smile smugly as he chewed his toast.
A/N: The next chapter will be in Hermione's point of view. Just to explain things. And a surprise waits. I must warn you, though; Hermione's sixth year might be a little modified.