Hello, Salinger Year fans! Before we get to the story, I have an exciting piece of news for you. I recently created a Salinger Year forum that we can now access. On the forum, you can ask questions, speculate, criticize or just talk about the Salinger Year series. Even better, I'm thinking about creating a Salinger Year role play forum- well, you can check out the forum for more details! As it's currently not showing up in the search whenever I search for it, here's the link (just add this on to the normal fan fiction dot net): /forum/Salinger-Year-Forum/182219/
Hope you guys enjoy the forum, and this chapter, of course!
The weekend was quiet. I spent the two days alternating between reading books, doing homework and tending to the ugly green-and-purple bruise that I'd gotten from Tommy. During meals, I scanned the Gryffindor table for him, hoping that he hadn't been punished- but the blond Wood boy was always missing.
Monday morning I woke earlier than anyone else in Ravenclaw. The sun wasn't even up yet, but I had no intention of going back to sleep. I'd been plagued by nightmares of rupturing skin, flashes of white and pools of blood soaking into the soil every time I fell asleep.
Besides some of the teachers, I was the only person in the Great Hall, too. Judging by their faces and the rings under the eyes of a few stray Hufflepuffs who slinked in five minutes after me, I wasn't the only person who was having bad dreams. And none of us had much of an appetite. I picked at a pastry for half an hour while reading The Tales of Beetle the Bard- an old family favorite- under the table. Then I gave up, accepted that I wasn't hungry, and went to class.
Because of how early it was, I expected to be the first person in the History of Magic classroom- and that included Professor Binns, who always got there right on time. But there was a boy with gold hair sitting in the last row, a boy in red-and-black robes.
"Tommy?" I said incredulously.
He turned around- and then cast his eyes to the floor once he saw me. "H-hi, Aly. Er, Alyssa."
"What's wrong?" I asked.
He attempted a fake smile. "What makes you think that something's wrong?" His voice was hoarse and cracked on the word wrong. As if that wasn't proof enough…
"You called me Alyssa," I pointed out. "Plus, you sound horrible." I took the seat beside him and lowered my voice. "Tell me what's wrong, Tommy."
He stayed silent.
"What did Finley do to you?" I whispered.
He paled. "Aly, I don't want to get in trouble," he mumbled, his voice wavering.
"You won't," I said quietly.
Tommy's breathing grew sporadic, and he gently pulled up his sleeve to reveal a mess of bruises and cuts on his upper arm. The injuries were nasty, and I turned away, hearing people drawing close to the classroom in the corridor. I stood up. "I'll see to Finley, make sure he doesn't do it again."
Then Nick, Nathan and a tall, thick boy named Nate Panther who had been Gryffindor Keeper the year before entered the room. Tommy whipped around, pulling his sleeve down, opening his mouth as if to make an excuse- but Nick, Nathan and Nate just sat down around him and started talking. A startled expression on his face, Tommy looked around only to see me setting down my things in the front row. Slowly, I gave him one long, gentle nod before turning around and sitting down, facing away from him and his friends.
When I was packing up after Professor Binns' long, tedious lecture on the Medieval Assembly of European Wizards- something we'd learned about in second year and apparently had to review- a note folded into a paper airplane slid onto my desk. Whipping around, I saw Tommy exiting the room with his friends. Nick caught my gaze and held it for a moment- then his nostrils flared and he turned away.
Heart hurting- I couldn't tell any friends except for my closest that I wasn't really a Damien-follower- I heaved a sigh, rotated around, and picked up the note. After unfolding it, I read the only two words scrawled on the parchment.
Thank you.
That night, I couldn't sleep. Visions of friends- Kayla, Ana, Nicole, and Nick, just to name a few- glaring at me like I'd betrayed them floated through my head, and whenever I managed to catch a few winks I saw people's skin burst and bleed, including Arthur; Margaret; and many other nameless, faceless students. Finally, I gave up and climbed out of bed.
Opening the curtains between my space and Polly's, I stared up at the silver moon. I could only see about half of it shining down on Hogwarts, but I knew the other side was there. Just like me. Anyone who looked up at the moon who hadn't been told that the entire moon was always there would say that only half of it was there. Anyone who looked at me who hadn't been told that I was a double agent would say that I was an evil, corrupted Damien-follower. But the other half was indeed there, just like the inside of me. People couldn't see it, but it was there.
Closing the curtains, I went down to the common room in my pajamas, only taking time to brush my hair up into a messy little ponytail of light brown curls. As usual, the common room was full of stacks of books, piles of paper, and heaps of dust covering most of it since there was a rule in the Ravenclaw commons: if someone's paper or book is in your way, you don't touch it.
I knew Polly, who hated dirt and dust, always kept a feather duster in her trunk. I had nothing better to do, so I went up to our room and fetched it. Then I started to clean.
Curtains, quills, papers, walls- no crevice or object escaped my rigorous dusting. Lit only by a few stray candles and the light of the moon and stars, I beat dust off of books, shook it off of statues and brushed it off of brass scales. The sun came up and still I cleaned as sunbeams burst through the high windows, completely illuminating the huge circular room. Finally, I was done, and I collapsed down onto an armchair.
Ow! I leapt up, feeling something sharp poke me. It was a corner of a book cover that was sticking suspiciously up the side of the armchair cushion, barely visible if you weren't looking for it. I reached for the cushion, heaved it up, and pulled out a large and heavy tome. Bookmarks stuck out all along the side. I peered at those bookmarks. I knew them.
They were Lanie's. I'd seen them before stuck in any book my friend had read here at Hogwarts- bright blue with LEK, Lanie's initials, written carefully across the top of each in beautiful calligraphy.
Cautiously, I turned the book over and read the title.
Magick Moste Evile, by someone named Godelot.
Wait… I've seen this before. Scrounging my memory, I remembered that I'd seen many a sixth- or seventh-year read the volume in these very commons. It was from the Restricted Section!
But these bookmarks are Lanie's. Why would Lanie have a book from the Restricted Section, and why would she put it under a chair cushion?
Deciding to confront her about it while we got ready- for the time the first class started was fast approaching- I stuck the book back under the chair cushion, nabbed Polly's feather duster from where it sat atop a pile of dust-free papers, and ran for the door that led to the dorms.
Polly wasn't awake yet, so I was able to return the duster to where I'd taken it from without having to explain anything, but everyone else was. They gave me odd looks when I loped into the room wearing pajamas carrying a bundle of multicolored, dusty feathers, but they all soon returned to normal.
Lanie looked exhausted. She had dark circles under her eyes and seemed very groggy. When I asked her about Magick Moste Evile, however, she snapped to attention and pulled me into her space, pulling the curtains shut.
"Sit," she ordered quietly, and I sat on her rumpled bed. Lanie sat next to me and heaved a sigh, grabbing her laurel wand from where it lay on the bedside table.
"It's my fault," she whispered after casting Muffliato, a charm that had risen to popularity during Harry Potter's time and filled the ears of anyone who could've heard our conversation with a loud buzzing noise. "I should've realized that there was a curse, that you guys were taunting us- not you, Aly, but Headmaster Damien's lackeys- and I should've been able to stop Arthur and Margaret. It's my fault they're dead."
I rubbed the bruised part of my arm. "Lanie, it isn't-"
"But it is," she insisted, a tear leaking into her eye. "Which means it's my duty to find a counter-curse for that border spell, whatever it is. I thought it would be in Magick Moste Evile, but so far none of the curses in there even come close to doing what that spell does."
"Listen, Lanie," I told her, quieting her, "I'll help. I'll help with finding a counter-curse. How did you get Magick Moste Evile out of the Restricted Section? Seeing as we're only fourth-years, you can't have just waltzed in and taken it out. I can use that same trick, whatever it is, to get more books- and I'm a faster reader than you, so we can read more in less time, and-"
"It won't work, Aly," Lanie interrupted softly.
"Why not?" I argued.
"Because I asked Professor Fourier for a note allowing me to have it. He hates the Damien-followers, Aly, and he doesn't know you're a double agent."
"So tell him!" I said, getting frustrated.
Lanie shook her head and explained, "I'm pretty sure that Headmaster Damien is having the teachers- especially Professor Fourier- spied on. Almost like electronic surveillance, but there's no way that he could disable the no-electronics spell on Hogwarts. It took four of the strongest wizards and witches of all time to cast that spell, and it would probably take even more to deactivate it. And last time I checked, there wasn't one witch or wizard as powerful as the Hogwarts founders, let alone four or more. Anyway, we can't tell him. It's too big of a risk."
I lifted my chin. "So I'll ask Headmaster Damien. I'll make up an excuse. I'm good at that sort of thing."
"What do you mean, no?" I cried.
It was the same day, three hours after I'd spoken with Lanie. After Potions- and Lanie was right; judging by the looks Professor Fourier had given me, Katy and Maile, he really did hate the Damien-followers- I'd hurried to Headmaster Damien's office, told the suits of armor it was me (student leader Aly Salinger) and ran up the stairs into his room. And then he'd said that no, I could not have permission to go into the Restricted Section as I pleased.
He folded his hands calmly on his desk. I noticed even more antiques cluttering the small tables surrounding it, and that made me wonder if they were his… or if he'd stolen even more from students. "Alyssa, there is no doubting that you are a wonderful student and the best protégé I could have picked. However, you are only a fourth-year, and without notes from teachers, anyone younger than sixth-years cannot read restricted books."
"Why can't you give me a note?" I said dumbly. "I'm your student leader!"
Calm, ice-blue eyes stared at me, and I felt like they were burrowing into my soul, ascertaining the real reason why I wanted books from the Restricted Section. Quickly, I added, "And I wanted to read up on curses that were mostly harmless but really hilarious so I could have fun with the first-years when they're not behaving properly! Like human Transfiguration- I once read about how a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher turned a student into a ferret and bounced him around in the courtyard."
I worried I might have been a tad overenthusiastic, but Headmaster Damien's face softened, just a little. He nodded. "Barty Crouch Jr. was a truly great Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Still, Alyssa, I can't give you a note for that." His gaze deepened, eyes glaring out from under thick eyebrows. "And as I am aware that some teachers treat my followers with preferential care, I expressly forbid you to use your status as leader of my supporters to gain a pass to the Restricted Section. Should I hear that you have indeed obtained a signed note from a teacher, you shall be denoted and that professor punished. Have I made myself clear, Alyssa?"
I bowed deeply, bile rising in my throat as I did so. "Yes, Commander. Thank you." Then I saluted, turned, and exited. I didn't have a pass to the Restricted Section, I was in danger of being denoted from my high rank- which would completely ruin my double-agent status- and possibly punished, and on top of it all I was late for Study of Ancient Runes. Life was not good.
Well? Did you like it? Don't forget to read, review, and check out the forum! Remember, the link is at the top of the page!
Finally, I'd like to wish a very happy birthday to the girl who inspired Maile- she is not evil in real life, and deserves the happiest of birthdays!
~atrfla