Chapter Five
Troll in the Dungeon
Halloween, 1968
On yet another trip to renew her still unread edition of 'Moste Potente Potions', Andromeda took the opportunity to pass through the Great Hall, as it would be her last opportunity to catch a glance at the lavish decorations before the Halloween Ball taking place the following day. It appeared that the Hogwarts makeshift interior design team had come out in full force to smother the entire room in decorations. Professor Sprout was hurrying up and down the tables, causing a long vine with black flowers to weave around every surface. Professor Egg was casting ominous mosaic patterns into the windows, whilst Professor McGonagall was attempting to not shout at Professor Slughorn, who had evidently grown tired of the proceedings, and had instead sat in Dumbledore's chair, swigging from his flask. In one corner, she spotted Professor Picardy, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, whipping a rope at a frightened bunch of fairies, who had refused to wear sets of miniature fangs. Fascinated, she watched as he was swiftly intercepted by Hagrid, who, it was rumoured, liked to raise magical creatures in good condition so that they were ripe for eating. After a couple of words passed between the two, Picardy shrugged, handed Hagrid the whip, and stalked off. Hagrid paused until Picardy was out of close range, then dropped the whip, instead producing a small bag of chocolate buttons, which the fairies instantly swarmed towards. Andromeda was impressed by his method; she had always assumed that giants were rather stupid beings. Then again, she reasoned, the oaf had probably just adapted to his surroundings, using his animal survival instinct.
Wondering whether fairies would constitute as starters, lunch or dinner to a giant, Andromeda climbed the staircase to the library. She and Edward had now developed a pattern to their encounters: she would arrive on Thursday evenings and, avoiding Madame Crouch, ask to renew the book, he would jokingly enquire whether she had started reading it yet, she would bat him off with a superbly placed insult, then he would eventually re-stamp the page and she would be on her way.
"Well if it isn't Miss. Pollyanna herself!" he greeted her as she approached the desk.
She furrowed her eyebrows, wondering if this was an insult that she didn't understand. "I beg your pardon?"
"Nothing... It was just an ironic reference... Oh never mind" He commented, as her expression became increasingly confused.
"Okay..." She pushed the book over to him, and he reached for the stamp. Flicking over to the loan page, he pressed it down onto the paper. Then again. And again. Frowning, he lifted the stamp back up, and inspected the base.
"Sorry, I think the ink cartridge has jammed. I'll go and get another one from the store cupboard."
"Can't you just correct it with magic?"
Edward laughed, his brown eyes crinkling at the edges. "Oh if only it were that simple. The ink is one of a kind and spell-proof, it's one of Madame Crouch's methods to keep people from faking the stamp when their books go overdue. There are more stamps in the cupboard though"
Andromeda stared at him in disbelief. "Seriously?"
"That's only the start when it comes to library pedantry, believe me. I had to take an initiation course when I started working here. I kid you not, it took twelve full days." He rifled in a desk draw, retrieving a set of keys, and gesturing to her to follow him. "It's mildly terrifying. Do you know, some of the books in the restricted section are programmed to scream at you if not opened with sufficient care? Scared the living daylights out of me, the first time it happened..."
They had reached a large wooden door next to the Transfiguration section, covered in various locks and safety charms. Andromeda watched as he expertly cracked fourteen different types of barrier, and the door swung open. Inside was a room almost the size of her bedroom at home, containing lines and lines of shelves bearing mostly stationary equipment and unused books. Edward wandered down a row, looking for the stamp box, and took the opportunity to have a snoop around the rest of the room. As she flicked through a notebook of book fines dating from 1926, she heard his voice from somewhere else in the room.
"Andromeda?" He sounded slightly unsure of himself.
Knowing that he was nowhere near her, she directed her comment to the ceiling. "Yes, Edward?"
"If you have no intention of reading that book, why do you keep taking it out?"
"It's supposed to be for an Independent Project."
"Oh." After his answer there was a long silence. Andromeda couldn't quite work out what it meant, which wasn't helped by the fact that she couldn't see his face. She walked down a different aisle, lined with replacement book jackets. He spoke again. "Why don't you just say you're too busy for the project then?"
"I can't. Slughorn would believe me, but Bellatrix wouldn't."
"Your sister? How does she come into it?" The naiveté in his disembodied voice genuinely made her laugh.
"You evidently haven't spend a lot of time with her! Bella... I guess she's got a lot of strong ideas, about a lot of things. And one of those things is the family reputation, which is where I come in. Frankly, she shows a lot more interest in my life and my so-called 'accomplishments' than both my parents put together, but that means she finds it very important that Sissy and I do well, so I told her I'd do the project to look pragmatic. She'll never let me abandon it. I just have to hope that she either forgets or graduates, whatever comes first."
"So the book is a prop? A symbol?"
"Exactly." She didn't know what it was, but something made her want to keep talking. "It's just difficult, that's all. I've accepted that I'll never live up to her, but she hasn't. She still wants me to be this amazing, smart, beautiful, powerful witch, but that's just not who I am. I accept that, but the amount of pressure she puts on us..."
"I don't think you're being particularly fair on yourself. Or accurate, for that matter"
"You don't know me that well either, then. I coast. That's what I do. I coast along, and always get by, but compared to people like Bella, I'm nothing. When it comes down to it, she has motivation, and I don't. Take her ideas about blood status for example. I'll bet you anything that within five years the ministry policies about mudblood inclusion will be totally different, and it will be a direct result of her actions. And I think it's only because she's been busy with schoolwork that she hasn't single-handedly ousted that giant. It's incredible, and I'm so proud of everything she does, but I can't be her equal, and I wish she would stop trying to make me be one."
Andromeda finished her rant, and turned a corner to see Edward quietly listening, sitting with his back against a shelf, having found the stamp box some time ago. He glanced around, and seeing her, climbed to his feet, putting the box back in it's place. He smiled and waved the replacement stamp, but something about the motion seemed a little forced. She stopped, a small distance away from him. Something about his actual physical presence made her emotionally retreat once more.
"Forget I said that. I shouldn't be complaining about her."
He hesitated, then put the new stamp in his trouser pocket. "Even if.. even if there are things you don't want to talk about with me, you should talk about them with someone. One of your friends, or -"
She scoffed. "-Urgh, spare me". The words came out sounding unintentionally aggressive. He appeared to take the cue, and made his way to the exit.
With a swift change of tone, he glanced over his shoulder. "So have you got any plans for the holidays?"
Completely taken aback by the U-turn in conversation, she found herself answering as they vacated the store cupboard. "Christmas is the same every year. We end up inviting half the wizarding population over to our house for an extended stay, so by Christmas itself, Bellatrix, Narcissa and I are banished to our old nursery to entertain all the cousins. It's awful. None of us are any good at it."
Edward laughed, and took out the stamp from his pocket as they approached the desk. "I'm afraid I can't share your pain. Youngest of the family, you see."
Suddenly, Andromeda felt herself becoming curious about his living situation. Obviously the boy wasn't too affluent, otherwise they would have a family connection, and 'Tonks' wasn't a name she could ever remember her father bringing up when he discussed the Ministry.
"How about you?"
For the first time ever, she saw him squirm. No, his parents definitely weren't high ranking wizards. He tried to conceal his action, and replied, twice as cheerfully as before.
"Oh nothing particularly interesting. Go back home, see my parents, my sister, eat, sleep, the usual. They only get a few days off work and after that it gets boring, so I'll be back here before the new year anyway"
Taking pity on his situation, she decided not to push the conversation further. Instead, she tried to make him feel at least a little less inadequate. "You don't even know the definition of the word 'boring' until you've sat through about ten consecutive Black family dinner parties. Maybe I should follow your lead, and escape back here!"
She picked up the book with far more grace than she had initially, having adjusted to it's weight over the weekly library visits. "I'll see you next week then?"
He was already settling back into his desk chair. "Wouldn't miss it for the world", he commented wryly.
His tone made Andromeda feel a small burst of affection for the boy in the library, and she looked back as she reached the exit.
"See you, Edward"
If anyone had walked into the 3rd year girl's dormitory at that point, they may well have thought that a rather vicious duel had just taken place. Clothes lay strewn all over the floor, and powder had been tipped all over Ophelia's bedside cabinet. It didn't help that all five girls – Narcissa, Alice, Ophelia, and their roommates, Barbara and May, had elected to get dressed at the same time. The much anticipated Halloween Ball was only hours away, and was the only event of the year where fancy-dress was encouraged. Of course, for Narcissa, this had meant multiple communications between her mother, herself, and the family seamstress over the last month, until she had managed to get herself a brightly patterned dress with an A-line skirt. The dress was a bright yellow, with lurid purple swirls covering it. Twirling around, she displayed it to the rest of the room. Alice, who was in the process of attaching owl feathers to her arms, looked bemused.
"Um... it's very... What are you supposed to be, exactly?"
Narcissa looked down at the outfit, and back to the girls. "I'm a muggle, duh!"
The girls stared at her, then promptly collapsed into giggles. "Cissy, that's brilliant!" Ophelia wheezed.
May came over to prod at it. "It's genuinely the most hideous dress I've ever seen."
"Making it perfect for Halloween, I know!" Narcissa grinned, using hairspray to build herself an enormous quiff.
"Ah, but will Tarquin like it?" Alice commented from her bed.
"I hope he hates it so much that he has to avoid being seen with me all evening!" she retaliated.
"That's one way of doing it, I suppose" Alice muttered under her breath, pushing the leftover feathers back inside a bag.
"Pardon?" Narcissa glanced over to her.
"Oh, nothing. Just thinking, that's all. So why are you going with him, again?"
"Because my life is one big, miserable joke, that's why. I have enough material to write a book. He picks his nose and then tries to hold my hand. I'm fairly certain that the only time he washes is after quidditch practice, and that's only once a week because he didn't make the first team! Oh, and the other day he asked me if magic was spelt with a G or a J. I wanted to cry on behalf of the rest of humanity."
"So dump him!"
"I can't! I'm trapped with him forever! When we die, alone, in our infested old cottage in the middle of the wasteland, please make sure I'm buried in a different graveyard to him. Different continent, ideally."
Alice tugged the feather headpiece that completed her outfit over her head, and stood up.
"Come on Cissy. You can do it. Tonight, you are a young, assertive, uh... semi-beautiful muggle girl who doesn't need some gross boy clinging to her every step. If not for yourself, do it for us! Do it for feminism!"
The girls all cheered over Narcissa's protests, and together they set off to the ball.
Narcissa enjoyed approximately fifteen and a half minutes in the company of her friends before Tarquin sprung out of the shadows. He had gunge dripping down his face, and his hair was cemented to his head. She desperately hoped that it wasn't permanent.
"I heard you came as a muggle. Very appropriate. Can't think of anything more horrifying." He started to itch at the area between his legs. Narcissa wanted to vomit.
"What are you?"
Tarquin indicated the gunge, as if she needed reminding of it's presence.
"I'm a troll"
"A troll. On Halloween. How original." The words slipped out before she could help herself. Tarquin gazed at her in shock, unused to hearing her angry tone. His dazed, slovenly expression only infuriated her further, and she decided to uncork her vial of repressed anger.
"See, if you were worth anything, McTavish, you would have thought to confer with me so we could find a way of matching outfits. Not that would be any use, because with that face, nothing will save you."
She became aware that most of the Slytherins from her year were now listening in, some looking shocked, Alice and Ophelia looking positively gleeful. It spurred her on.
"And Halloween? I couldn't think of an event more appropriate to attend with you. You're disgusting, unhygienic, and even after two months you still creep me out."
He continued to stand there, utterly speechless. She began to laugh.
"Merlin's Beard, please don't tell me that this surprises you!? Why on earth did this relationship even happen? We're so non-compatible, it would be funny - if you weren't so repulsive. I should never had said yes to you. You were just desperate, and I felt sorry for you." With that, she spun around and flounced off, leaving the girls desperately trying to suppress their laughter.
Narcissa picked up a blood orange cocktail from a tray which was hovering nearby, and made her way out to the entrance hall to cool off. As she came in, she saw Bellatrix deep in conversation with a group of people wearing thick black cloaks. She has highly tempted pull Bellatrix away so she could vent to her, but something about these people, and the way Bella was talking to them, made her think that they were important. She wasn't sure why, they must just be sixth or seventh years, but something stopped her from coming any closer. Bellatrix was talking to them earnestly, and eventually they started to head out of the castle doors. As they turned around, Narcissa thought she might spot a familiar face, but all of them, apart from Bellatrix, were wearing strange metal masks, with only small slots to reveal the eyes. Maybe Bellatrix was trying to get one for herself so that she wasn't left out? It must be some sort of secret society amongst the upper years. As Bellatrix left, Narcissa resolved to find out how to join.
At that point a hand touched her shoulder, and she smacked it away instinctively. It was Travers, and he looked angry.
"You can't do that" he exclaimed.
"If you touch me without my permission, I can do whatever the hell I want, thank you very much" Narcissa replied primly.
"I meant Tarquin, you harpy. That, back in there? That wasn't okay. We all hate you now"
"Oh no, do you really?" Narcissa pulled the best 'sad' expression she could muster.
"Yes"
"Oh I don't care about the others at all. Let them think what they like! But you, Travers! I thought you understood me. I thought we had a connection!"
He frowned, taken aback. "We... we do?"
"Yes, Travers. Can't you feel it? It's always been there. I've always had to ignore it, because McTavish is your best friend, and I would never... but it's just become too hard to ignore!"
Travers was paralysed.
"Oh, I'm so glad we can say this now. I'm a free woman, Travers, and now we can finally be together, just like we always wanted!"
"...Like we … always wanted?" He echoed.
"Of course, I'm so glad you agree. I'm so happy to be able to call you my boyfriend at last"
The poor boy was edging dangerously close to edging in to full shut-down mode. He made a strange grunting sound as she linked arms with him, and they went back into the hall once more.
Andromeda had never liked parties. Dinner parties, birthday parties, balls, they were all as bad as each other. At least when she had her sisters with her, there was someone with whom to talk. However at school, there was nobody she actually liked enough to call a friend, even if she spent most of her time with them. This especially went for the girls in her dorm. Isobel, Betty, Morgance and Carolyn were all nice enough, but they were silly and childish, and none of them had any interest in her beyond the rumours about the affluence and power of her family. Besides, as of last year, all four of them had decided that dating boys was the most important thing in the world, and she found it increasingly difficult not to dramatically sigh whenever she had to watch them flirt. Such an occasion was happening at present. Lucius Malfoy had strolled over, and the four girls were practically giving him a full-body massage.
"It's a fabulous event, isn't it?" Betty commented, straightening the collar of his shirt.
"Yes, rather, although I'd say I've seen better" Lucius drawled. "I notice they don't have the elvish choir that were here last year"
"Oh no, really?" gushed Carolyn.
"It's a terrible shame." He continued. "My father reckons that this whole place is going to the dogs. Dumbledore's lost it, in my opinion. What this place needs is some strong leadership, not an old fool running the show. There's a rumour going round that within ten years we won't even have a Halloween Ball. There's talk of downsizing it to a feast." The girls all gasped in horror.
She couldn't help it. Andromeda sighed heavily, but luckily no-one seemed to notice her.
"It's true. Budget cuts. My father says Hogwarts just isn't the place it used to be. I for one will be sending any child of mine to Durmstrang. They know how to maintain order. At the end of the day, it's the muggle problem, isn't it? They're tearing our heritage, our values, away from us, and Dumbledore, the fool, is all for it."
Andromeda nodded along with the rest of the girls, not really listening any more. She was watching Narcissa at the other side of the room near the cauldron of punch. She appeared to be in some dispute with some of the boys in her year. At that moment, McTavish swung round and smacked Travers in the jaw. The two boys then lunged at each other, kicking and biting until Professor McGonagall arrived to prize them apart. Narcissa was not at all shaken by the incident, and wandered off, accompanied by a couple of her friends.
Although Malfoy had been correct in noting the absence of last years Elven Choir, there was still a wizard band, who had just taken to the stage, which was positioned in the spot where the teacher's table usually stood. As the music kicked in, groups of students took to the dance-floor, creating bright combination of colours from their fancy-dress. Fancy-dress. Andromeda looked down at her conspicuously average outfit. She had completely forgotten about the fancy-dress aspect. Whoops.
The students had now created a large dancing area in the hall, and she drew back against the wall, in case anyone tried to force her into joining in. Morgance appeared next to her.
"Urgh, what a let-down. Malfoy's only gone and asked Isobel to dance with him. She doesn't even have proper dancing shoes. Oh well, such is life."
Andromeda nodded, watching the crowd. A circle of Hufflepuffs had formed in the middle of the floor, and various students were being thrown into the middle, in order to perform a solo dance. Boys and girls danced around chaotically, drastically lacking in style but clearly having a good time. Then, she saw the last face that she'd been expecting to see. It was Edward, the boy from the library. Except he wasn't in the library. He was in the Great Hall, in a large circle of Hufflepuffs. Andromeda felt like she had just seen a penguin in the sahara desert.
One girl pushed Edward into the centre of the circle and he laughed, taking her hand and pulling her in with him. The music was lively and upbeat, and he swung her around until she became giddy and had to break off. He grabbed another smiling girl, and then another, lifting them up and spinning them around like it was second nature to him. He looked happy; like he was having fun. Did he have fun when they spent time together in the library? Andromeda wondered whether she needed to tone down the string of insults that built the foundations of their relationship. Or their conversations. They didn't have a relationship, did they? The punch, which she had been vigorously drinking earlier in the evening, now seemed like less of a good idea. Her thoughts were becoming slightly muddled. Why was he here? He belonged with her, in the library. Who were all these Hufflepuffs?
"If only Lucius could be like that" Morgance commented. Andromeda looked at her, and realised that Morgance had seen what she was looking at. "That boy knows how it works. All those girls like him, so he dances with all of them. It's only fair, after all. But no, Lucius has to pick one girl – the worst girl, to add insult to injury. She's not even pretty!"
"I thought Isobel was your best friend?"
"Yeah, I chose her because she isn't pretty. She makes me look good in comparison."
This was another reason why Andromeda kept her distance from people. The people who you trusted most always seemed to be the first to stab you in the back.
"I don't think that's at all nice, Morgance. But anyway, I don't think those girls even like that guy over there. They're just friends."
"Are you kidding me? Look at them! They're all over that. I would be all over that if I had the opportunity. And that's really saying something, considering that he's a Hufflepuff."
Something snapped. Andromeda found herself slipping into auto-pilot mode. She heard herself, as in third person, announcing that she was tired, and that she's see the others later in dormitory. Morgance didn't put up much protest, and she quickly left for the Slytherin dungeons. It was only when she entered her empty dormitories that her heart-rate returned to it's natural level. All in all, it had been a very strange evening.
A/N: Thank you for reading! This is my longest chapter so far - the first story-arcs are really kicking in now and I'm having a great time writing them! Of course, any comments, follows, favourites are forever welcome, but I'd be particularly interested on your thoughts on Alice and/or Bellatrix. Both of them are side-lined at the moment, but I'm planning on both of them making a big impact later down the line. It would be lovely to hear from you x