IT IS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED THAT YOU REREAD THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER FIRST BEFORE YOU READ THIS ONE. STRONGLY RECOMMENDED. STRONGLY RECOMMENDED.
Disclaimer: Nope. I'm just a fan. Writing fiction.
A/N: It's short, but sweet.
Pretending To Live
Chapter 9: Déjà Vu
And then the cauldron exploded.
Almost by itself, my wand somehow found its way to my hand and the Shield Charm I placed around myself to stop the splatters of the boiling hot unidentifiable substance landing on my skin seemed almost automatic, occurring within a matter of split seconds.
Inhaling sharply through my nose, I glanced over to my right to see Riddle had done the same and was now staring at me with an inscrutable look in his dark eyes.
Well, I thought, I guess those lessons with Dumbledore weren't for nothing, right?
"My goodness! Oh, what happened here?" Slughorn's voice boomed from the front of the classroom, and I switched my attention to the scene around me, surveying the wreck—my wreck.
It seemed not everyone had been as lucky as Riddle and I had been; some of the other Slytherins had been hit by the stray globs of our unfinished Befuddlement Draught and were now either sprouting various species of fungi from their face or simply staring around the dungeon with a very confused expression indeed.
Harry caught my eye across the room and contracted his eyebrows worriedly; I just winced and made a shushing gesture before turning back to the very bewildered Slughorn now in front of our desk.
"Is this from your cauldron Mr Riddle?" he asked us with something quite close to disbelief evident in his tone. "Miss de Lioncourt?"
"Er..."
Riddle was quicker.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Professor." he apologized smoothly, a sheepish, hesitant smile making its way on his features and I stared at him incredulously. "It seems... it seems I may have added too much of the armadillo bile, I'm afraid."
What is he doing?
Why was he covering up for me?
Slughorn was almost as shocked as I was, except for an entirely different reason. "Tom!" he exclaimed, and I could almost hear the 'naughty naughty' in his voice. "I expected better of you! Potions prince, twelve O.W.L.s!"
My eyes actually bugged out of my sockets when I saw the rising pink stain Riddle's hollow cheeks—this is far too much, I thought in disbelief. He can...actually... blush on cue?
He shifted in mock discomfort in his chair and it was then that I caught the brief glimmer of silver around his neck; my eyes narrowed.
That couldn't be...could it?
Making sure Riddle's attention was still focused on Slughorn, I craned my head slightly to the left. Again I saw the flash of bright metal but it was quickly obscured by the stiff white collar of Riddle's uniform before I had the chance to fully examine the item.
And if it was what I thought it was...
I pursed my lips.
This called for something a little more...drastic. Short of ripping the Dark Lord's shirt off his back, of course.
With one hand I purposely knocked over one of the small flasks at our table; it fell over with a crash and its contents mingled with unfinished potion puddled on our desk.
Both Riddle and Slughorn's eyes widened.
BANG!
Definitely was not expecting that, I thought grimly around Slughorn's semi transparent Shield Charm that he had thrown around us, and, ignoring the startled cries of the other students in the room, I whispered a charm of my own.
"Ventus!"
A small puff of air left the tip of my wand which was held under my chair and discretely pointed at Riddle and to my immense delight, the partially buttoned collar of his shirt flopped open slightly, exposing the mystery around his neck (not lecherous at all).
My eyes widened.
I had been right. Around his neck hung an elaborate chain that shone in the half light of the dungeons like moonlight made solid; it seemed to capture more than its fair share of light. And suspended from it, on an ornate half circlet—
My eyes, if possible grew bigger at the sight of the sapphire encrusted pale oval dangling from the chain.
The locket of Ravenclaw. The First Locket.
'Goodness gracious!" Slughorn's voice cut into my thoughts as I tore my eyes away from Riddle's chest to look at him. "Today simply just isn't our day, isn't it you two?"
"You could say that," I muttered acknowledgingly, still mulling over what I'd just seen. Riddle has the Locket... what does that mean for us?
"I'm sorry, Professor," Riddle whispered quietly, jaw tight and the red was back in his eyes.
What did the First Locket do?
The back of my neck prickled and I gripped the wooden desk with my hands suddenly filled with a terrible, terrible sense of foreboding. I refused to look at Riddle's face; for the first time since I'd entered this world, I felt desperately, and truly afraid.
The First Locket...
Riddle smiled charmingly at the oblivious Professor, and his teeth glinted silver in the sunlight, as white and sharp as a shark's. I stayed very still, frozen in my seat. "I wasn't supposed to do this."
... allowed the user...
Slughorn frowned in confusion. "Tom..."
A long fingered hand crept up to the collar of his shirt, and suddenly I could control my limbs again, could move, could do something-!
"No!" I yelled and lunged for his arm—
...to control and manipulate Time itself.
"Argh, fudge," I said out loud as I accidentally spilled some of the murky- yellow liquid on the desk in my muddled haze. "Dammit."
I considered jabbing my wand at the mess and hoping for the best, but I decided against it once I realized that setting the entire classroom on fire wasn't exactly a great first impression to make on your second day of classes.
Sighing to myself, I began to clean up the liquid the 'Muggle' way, with an old cloth I had found amongst my potions kit supplies—which I wouldn't have needed if I hadn't "chosen" to do Potions (much less Advanced Potions) this year.
"I'm gunna kill you, Dumbledore," I muttered sourly to myself, momentarily forgetting just who it was I was sitting next to.
"So I've heard," Riddle muttered as he added the belladonna solution into the sinisterly bubbling cauldron. "Ah, only 15 milligrams of armadillo bile is required, Miss de Lioncourt." His hand firmly caught my wrist as I decided to 'go with the flow' and chuck the whole lot of the bile in, effectively stopping me from making any additions.
"You don't say?" I said as he let go of my hand, taking the flask away from me.
"I do," he responded mildly as he measured out the thick brown liquid himself and dumped it into the cauldron, which hissed and turned a violent shade of purple. "Too much bile outbalances the regurgitating effects of the powdered knotgrass we added in earlier; if we had done so then out cauldron would have exploded." He said all of this with a polite, explaining smile.
I winced as I felt the abrupt spike in the pattern of my throbbing head. "Right. Sure. Glad that didn't happen, then."
Nausea washed over me in green waves and I clamped my lips tightly together, figuring the Heir of Slytherin wouldn't exactly welcome my upchuck over his shiny, shiny shoes. A chill ran up my spine and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up; I fought the sense of dread growing in the pit of my stomach. Biting back a groan, I pressed a clammy hand against my sweaty forehead and closed my eyes.Just a bout of nausea, just a bout of nausea Ari, I chanted to myself weakly. Nothing more.
Are you sure?
"Are you not feeling well today, Miss de Lioncourt?" Riddle again, his voice concerned.
How much of this is real?
"I'm wonderful," I gasped out as both the pounding in my head and the ice in my stomach increased tenfold. Something was wrong— everyone was talking too quickly around me, I was hearing words before people said them; each movement seemed like a nervous twitch to me, repetitive and consistent. That girl, the redhead with the braids—hadn't she already dropped her textbook on the floor? "Riddle, do you ever get... déjà vu?" I hated myself for asking him, but this was getting too weird and too unsettling. "Like... you've already done something before and you're just... repeating yourself?"
There was silence from Riddle's side of the table; I glanced at him.
His head was cocked slightly to one side as he looked at me, as if he was a small child regarding something new and unfamiliar in front of him. A strange gleam crept into his dark eyes and his eyebrows raised upwards in a delayed show of deliberate confusion at my words. "Now, why would you say that?"
"Now, why would you say that?"
My lips parted and the cold fingers running down my spine became knives raking through my skin. Staring into Voldemort's unfathomable eyes, I held my breath. "Wh—"
"Ah! Mr Riddle and Miss de Lioncourt, your potion is looking very nicely done!" I jolted away from Riddle at the sound of Slughorn's voice and turned my stare of disbelief at the portly, ginger Potions professor examining our cauldron with an expression of great admiration. "Very nicely done indeed—though I wouldn't expect anything less of you, Tom! Potions prince, twelve O.W.L.s!"
A light flush of pink stained the hollows of Voldemort's cheeks as accepted the praise with quiet thanks. Meanwhile I sat gaping at Slughorn as if had somehow grown an extra head and sprouted feelers while he had been talking.
This is crazy... incredibly insane...
"How—"
"And Miss de Lioncourt!" Slughorn exclaimed happily, switching his attention from Riddle to me, "Not a bad start, not a bad start at all!"
"I—"
"In fact..." Slughorn lowered his voice to a booming whisper, glancing around the classroom in a matter which I supposed he thought was secretive, "don't be surprised if you receive a little... 'something' in the mail from me tomorrow morning, hm?"
I shook my head slowly, as if the action would clear my murky thoughts. "Er... 'something', sir?"
The walrus moustached Potions master gave me a sly wink. "An invitation to a little 'get-together' I'm having quite soon..."
"You're joking." The word was flat, in incredulous disbelief.
He chuckled, apparently misunderstanding my words. "No joke, no joke at all, Miss de Lioncourt! And I'd very much appreciate it if you could come... You see," he added conspirationally, "not many people in my classes are invited to these little parties, if you know what I mean..."
Already, I begun to shake my head once more, this time in declination of his offer. "Professor, I really don't think—"
"You should come, Ariadne."
Riddle's voice was smooth and quiet as always, yet it cut off the rest of my breath like a punch to the gut. Was this guy kidding? Oh, sure, the Dark Lord was totally cajoling me into having a blast at a party for teenage wizards (and other creatures, I'm certain), that's a perfectly realistic situation! And not to mention use my full first name, which only my grandma and Dumbledore call me, after knowing me for about five minutes despite the fact that it's almost a taboo here in the 40's, where women still addressed their husbands as 'Mr Such and Such' to their friends! Right? Right?
There were no "maybe's" about it; I had officially begun panicking now.
Something's wrong, something's so wrong here—
Slughorn looked back and forth between us and began to laugh knowingly. "Oh ho ho ho! Well then it's settled!" he chuckled as he began to walk away from our table. "Carry on then, carry on..."
He was still chortling and I could only stare at his retreating figure in numb disbelief. "What just happened?"
Riddle chuckled lightly beside me, and I switched my dubious gape back to him. "You were apparently invited to a party, Miss de Lioncourt."
"Right," I said, feeling a faint sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Okay then..."
"I assure you, they're not all as shallow as they may seem upon initial consideration. Sometimes..." he paused thoughtfully, a slight smile curving his pale lips. "They can be quite interesting, actually."
My mouth twitched. "Sometimes."
His eyebrows raised as he smirked at me and I returned it without thinking. Riddle's eyes glinted and suddenly the full awareness of what I was doing hit me like a ton of bezoars. This is exactly what I was warned about—he charms his victims, Ari! He's playing you, using you to get the information that he wants!
Quickly, I began to pack up my things, sweeping an arm over the table and slamming everything into my bag, fighting my rising sense of panic.
Riddle frowned as he watched my ministrations. "What are you doing?"
"Leaving." I replied tersely.
"Leaving?" He looked genuinely confused as I slung my bag over my shoulder. "But it isn't yet time to—"
The Hogwarts bell began to chime and I swiftly departed the room, pushing past Draco as I broke into a run for the girl's toilets.
Bursting through the door, I ran to the sink and began to splash some of the cold water onto my face in an attempt to snap myself from whatever daze I was in; it only helped slightly. Gripping the sides of the sink, I tried to take deep, steadying breaths.
It's fine, it's okay, I repeated the words in my mind like a chant. This feeling's only in your head, it'll pass soon, don't worr—
I heaved the contents of my breakfast into the porcelain bowl.
"Ugh... that's disgusting."
Wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my robes quickly, I whipped around to face a rather short, chubby girl with thick glasses and pigtails, picking morosely at a spot on her nose.
"Myrtle?" I croaked incredulously and winced at the acrid taste in the back of my throat.
Myrtle eyed me for a moment, a frown coming onto her round face. "Have we met before?"
I turned back to the sink and drank some of the water from the tap before facing the would-be ghost in front of me in a state of shock. "No...no we haven't, it's just—you're alive."
I immediately regretted my words as soon as I said them—all of a sudden the flesh and blood student standing in front of me began to cry real tears, thick and pearly as she commenced her wailing. "You're making fun of me, aren't you?"
"No no wait, I didn't mean it like that—"
"You people are all the same!" she sobbed hysterically. "I've just met you and you insult me! Maybe Olive Hornby was right, nobody likes me, I'm so hideous—"
"Whoa, woman, calm down—"
At my words her voice rose to a piercing shriek and I winced. "Woman?" she repeated, now completely beside herself with indignation. "I suppose that's another way of calling me fat, is it?"
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being a little voluptuous—"
Myrtle burst into a fresh flood of tears and ran, sobbing, away from me, exiting the bathroom.
"Aw, crap." I mumbled. I felt terrible, but she must feel loads worse, thanks to me...
Shaking my head (which I most definitely should not have done—now the room was spinning) I made my way out of the toilets stumbling into Ron outside, with Harry and Draco. "Hey, watch it—oh, hey."
Harry appraised my dishevelled figure and his eyes narrowed. "What happened? What did Riddle do to you?"
"Hey Ari, you've got to see this—" Ron was waving his wand around excitedly in front of my face but I ignored him for the time being.
"I don't know," I replied worriedly to Harry's question. "but it was something, I know it—"
"—no seriously, Ari, you should see the spell my great great grandfather Ernie taught me, that terrific old bloke—"
"—my head's pounding like hell and I've been throwing up all over the place—"
"Delightful," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes.
"Ari! Ari, c'mon—"
"FOR GOD'S SAKES RONALD WEA—MCDONALD!" I roared at him and I reached a hand into my robes to pull out my wand. "I swear if you don't shut your freckled trap right now I'm gunna curse your a—"
My hand closed around the scorching, searing wood of my wand and I gasped, jolted as if a current of electricity had passed through me and suddenly—
-"My goodness! Oh, what happened here? Your cauldron—"
"-Er—"
"- I'm sorry, Professor—"
"-Tom! I expected better of you! Potions prince, twelve O.W.L.s!—"
"-Ventus!—"
...My eyes widened...
...Around his neck hung an elaborate chain that shone in the half light of the dungeons like moonlight made solid; it seemed to capture more than its fair share of light. And suspended from it, on an ornate half circlet—
The locket of Ravenclaw. The First Locket.
-Riddle has the Locket... what does that mean for us?—
"I'm sorry, Professor," Riddle whispered quietly, jaw tight and the red was back in his eyes.
What did the First Locket do?
The back of my neck prickled-
The First Locket...
-Riddle smiled charmingly at the oblivious Professor, and his teeth glinted silver in the sunlight, as white and sharp as a shark's. I stayed very still, frozen in my seat. "I wasn't supposed to do this."
... allowed the user...
"Tom..."
"No!" I yelled and lunged for his arm—
...to control and manipulate Time itself.
The sudden rush of images ended abruptly and I looked up at the others from my position where I had collapsed on the floor.
"Oh dear," I gasped out, and then I fainted.
A/N: Such a proper young woman, Ari is... *hand flutters on heart, gracefully sinks down*
But tell me, what did you think? You'll notice that the next few chapters will have waaay more plot than the last few, because we're really getting into the story now!
Anyway, please review!