Chapter Five

Summer came and went in the usual fashion, Purebloods coming over for tea, Amycus tormenting me as brothers do, and my mother and father always raving about how the country was going to the dogs. Lorraine and I spent as much time as possible together; she could come to my house to escape from her three older sisters, and we would sip lemonade in the garden or take the Floo to Diagon Alley for a day of shopping.

As ashamed as I was to admit it, I allowed a certain Mr. Dolohov to cross my mind far more often than was probably advisable, though it was always with an angry prickle of hatred that his face would appear in my thoughts. I didn't want to forgive him for wounding my pride, and I definitely wasn't too keen on seeing him again when school commenced in the fall. As it was, though, there was still some odd, unwelcome fascination toward him lingering in my subconscious, a feeling that- no matter how hard I tried to shake it- wouldn't seem to stop coming up at the least opportune times.

I was glad to have Lorraine that summer more than anything. While she wasn't entirely dull or stupid, she was always good to get the latest gossip. It seemed, as well, that too many hours in the heat of the sun had caused her to begin noticing boys as more than woman-abusing worms. I can't recall how many times that summer she stopped in the middle of a shop to watch a boy walking by through the front window, and then tugged my sleeve and whispered excitedly, "Did you see him? He was at least an eight-point-five."

Her silly scale-of-one-to-ten ratings of men kept me amused, if nothing else, though I never once spotted anyone who even came near Antonin's par. I suppose, borrowing Lorraine's scale, he would have been something close to a five hundred and fifty-two.

Only once did I ever have to face him that summer; he and Amycus had taken to meeting with other friends at larger, grander houses than ours. It was completely by accident. I'd been leaving Gringotts with my mother, prepared to buy my school books, and he was walking in the opposite direction.

My legs stopped working the second I caught a glimpse of him. If possible, he'd grown even more attractive over the summer; suddenly, my knees felt weak. His dark eyes narrowed slightly as he looked me over. It seemed that he might say something to me, or at least that he wanted to, but instead he torn his eyes away from mine and continued walking without a word.

Somehow, I found myself sorely disappointed.

---

The beginning of school was accompanied with urgings from my parents to be more social.

"You're getting too old for your childish aversion to other people," my mother sighed, after the late-summer birthday party in which I'd avoided most of my own guests.

"Mother, I'm just selective as to whom I spend my time with. You yourself taught me to be socially prudent," I replied, in the most respectful way possible. She frowned, obviously not liking that answer.

"Alecto, really. Your father and I have worked hard for the little status we've managed to scrape in Wizarding society." She paused to charm some of my clothes into my trunk for me; we never had a house elf. "It's your duty to the family to befriend suitable people, and marry one someday."

"I'm not sure I want to marry," I shrugged, forgetting, for a second that that was basically blasphemy coming from a young Purebood witch.

"Of course you do," she snapped hurriedly, glancing at the doorway as if afraid someone had overheard. Looking back, I think she was scared that my father might have witnessed that; he was a bit harsh with her, and probably wouldn't have reacted favourably to my comment.

I'd rolled my eyes, shrinking my cauldron and putting it into my trunk in order to buy myself a minute to think of how to respond. "Things have changed since you grew up," I told her finally. "I don't have to marry to be accepted in society. I could have a career, and be my own person. I don't need to sit on some man's coattails and do what he says for the rest of my life."

She shook her head and looked as if she rather would have liked to say something encouraging, but instead she stood from where she'd been sitting on my bed and made for the door. "Just make an effort to make friends besides Lorraine this year, Alecto. I've heard that Eleanor Crabbe is a nice girl, for one."

Though I knew full well that Eleanor Crabbe's kindness extended only to her gaggle of shallow gossiping buddies (and sometimes not even them), I just nodded and forced a smile. I was a Pureblood. Pretending to enjoy myself with people who I truly detested was a specialty of mine, and if it was required of me, my first duty was to my family's name.

---

As it was, Lorraine and I sat with Eleanor Crabbe and her bunch on the train that year. My brother and his friends, most of them fourth year or older, were apparently too "cool" to be seen associating with his little sister and her best friend, so we had to settle for a less favorable climate.

I'm sure my mother would have been pleased, could she have seen my behavior. I smiled, laughed, interjected the occasional polite comment, and otherwise was as socially acceptable as it was possible to be. Ellie (as she insisted on being called) raved about the gorgeous boys she'd met in Italy that summer, and showed us several photographs of herself and various tanned, beaming Italians. In every picture, the photograph version of Ellie could be seen kissing the boy on the cheek, or giggling and holding his hand. Occasionally, she would wave flirtatiously at the camera.

None of those boys, though, could hold a candle to Antonin. I'd seen him at the station before departure; he'd grown taller over the summer, and I'd had to look away to keep from staring. His features were so intense, they seemed to beg my attention, even after I'd dragged my eyes to scan other faces. I tried to put his burning gaze out of my mind, but even on the train, surrounded by Eleanor and her crowd, I couldn't forget the feeling I'd gotten of having my soul scrutinized.

Unwisely, I allowed myself to mention the shortcomings of her summer flings. "None of them are nearly as good-looking as Antonin Dolohov," I blurted, before I could stop myself. She, her three friends, and Lorraine looked at me as though I'd gotten something particularly nasty on my face.

Then, a smile crossed Eleanor's broad face. "Of course they wouldn't be, not in your eyes, anyway." She laughed, as did her cohorts, as though they had some sort of private joke at my expense. "Everyone knows about your darling crush on dear Tony."

I could feel myself going red. Lorraine glanced at me, and for once, I think the emotion of pity stirred somewhere in her soul. She immediately piped up, "Well, I think Alecto has a point. He's by far the best looking guy I've ever seen."

I shot her a grateful smile, and she returned it with one that expressed quite clearly, 'you owe me for this'. We both knew that we'd probably wind up on their list of favourite gossip subjects after that day, and that the result probably wouldn't be all that flattering.

"They're right," joined a girl who I think was of the Rosier family; she was small, pale, and hadn't spoken much up to that point. "He's at least the most gorgeous boy in the school, if not the country. I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be gay."

" Mary!" exclaimed Eleanor, and everyone burst into laughter. I joined in uneasily, though I didn't really see what was so funny about it. If Antonin turned out gay, I would probably die.

---

Lorraine, who I'd told about my mother's request, tried to help me as much as possible by staying with me in social situations. More times than just that one on the train, she'd talked me out of embarrassment.

Never were there words enough to express my thankfulness at having her around during those times, but even if there had been, Lory wouldn't have wanted to hear them. She'd rather I buy her something expensive for Christmas and, if it was that important to me to thank her, mention it in the card.

No amount of her catching my blunders, though, could save me from the terror that was Ellie Crabbe. Her brother, who was in my year, was unpleasant and had a sick sense of humour- but apparently, he was the nice one in the family. No, once Eleanor got it into her mind to ruin your life, she did so, no matter the cost.

Which was why it was extremely unfortunate that she had gotten it into her mind that I was the only thing standing between her and Antonin Dolohov.

Honestly, even if it would have bothered me just a bit out of my possessiveness over him, I wouldn't have minded them hooking up or whatever she had in mind. I didn't own him- he was free to do whatever, or whoever, he wanted.

She, however, didn't know that. In her mind, Alecto Carrow was just the name of an obstacle- and Eleanor Crabbe was well known for overcoming obstacles in the nastiest way she could think of.

With me, it was beginning the rumour that there wasn't a Slytherin- male or female- that I hadn't tried to kiss. Sure, most people didn't buy that. They knew that I kept mostly to myself, and were too afraid of Amycus's hastiness with his wand to ever propagate anything that scandalous about his sister. However, I did hear whispers about myself every now and then, thanks to her.

Apparently, though, Antonin wasn't phased, because Ellie herself cornered me one day in the corridor.

"Alecto," she growled, her fingernails digging into my wrist where she'd grabbed it to get my attention. "How are you, dear?"

I jerked the limb away from her. "I'm fine. Do you need something?" I wasn't falling for her false kindness, not for a second.

"Actually, yes, I do," she responded, her voice dripping with a sick sort of sweetness. It was nauseating. "I need for you to stay away from Antonin before you find your pretty little face not so pretty anymore."

Narrowing my eyes, I spat, "I'm not keeping you from him, Crabbe. He's all yours."

Apparently, she'd been expecting a fight, because she looked a bit taken aback. "You don't care if I steal your boyfriend?"

I snorted. Antonin, I knew, was not the sort of person who could be "stolen", nor was he my boyfriend. "For being such a gossip whore, you're extremely naive," I informed her simply. "If he'll have you, he's all yours. Though-" I paused and glanced over her, relishing in the fact that by my verbal jibes, I was repaying her for all of those rumours "-even he has standards, so who knows."

A second later, she'd gotten a fistful of my shirt and shoved me backwards into the wall. "You'd better watch it, Carrow, or I swear I'll make your life hell." For a second, it seemed as if she was going to punch me, but I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye, and we both turned to see Antonin, standing there as if he'd been summoned by our mentioning of him.

Releasing me, Eleanor immediately sashayed over to him, absolutely gushing with flirtatious comments. I rolled my eyes and turned away, not wanting to deal with that problem just then.