Chapter 2: Hello, Fate
Elizabeth stood bewildered by the plane of whiteness which stretched endlessly before her eyes. As she observed the unnaturalness of the mystic realm imprisoning her, her mind whirled with questions : where was she ? What was she doing there ? And how could she get out ?
Her footsteps resonated throughout the region, marching into nothingness. She stopped every once in a while to inspect her surroundings that could've perfectly suited the description of a blank page. She was the only accomplishment of an artist who failed to finish the painting, and she was left with a beating heart and a lonely universe of white. Looking down at her feet, Elizabeth saw that she was barefoot and draped in a light chemise which she found unbearably revealing. "Hello! Can you hear me ?!" A voice echoed over her shoulders, startling her.
She turned around to face her speaker. The look of him was alarming ; his face muddied, his attire ripped and stained, and he looked like he's been through the wars. Raspy gasps escaped his dry lips, and his green eyes shimmered under round spectacles that were remarkably askew. Elizabeth stood petrified as he edged nearer towards her. She didn't know if she should offer him a hand or flee instantly. Stopping in front of her, Elizabeth made out the shape of a curious scar cleaving his forehead. "What is this place? Do you know where we are ?" He asked. Elizabeth, not finding her voice, simply shook her head. The boy, he seemed to recognize her, for his jaw hung open slightly, and his flustered expression seemed to be wiped away only to be replaced by something worse; dislike and a whole lot of rage. "It is you," he muttered, cementing his sharp eyes onto her. "Me ? You recognize me?"Elizabeth chocked fearfully. The intensity of his gaze enhanced as he said,"You saved him, didn't you ?"
Elizabeth was cowering now. "What ?" The boy persisted to goggle at her like a somewhat repulsive alien. "Do you have any idea what you have started ?" He said. "Hey, back off !" Elizabeth barked at him unexpectedly, groping her apparel for a wand she didn't have. Although there was a good circular white spot between them, his angry demeanor made everything seem so clustered.
His rage might have been a side effect of something that had been broken deep down inside, for misery was evident in his green eyes. It was ironically safe to conclude that he had lost something or someone, and he took Elizabeth as responsible. "How do you-"
The first few words he uttered were perfectly understandable and coherent, until a cacophony of shrieking and drawling seemed to have been emitted from his throat. Not knowing how to react to that, not wanting to wander her gaze away from something that masqueraded as a human but being nowhere as one, Elizabeth lumbered away hastily and in fear. The boy, unaware of what came out of him, eyed her suspiciously as she stumbled away, away into another portal of darkness.
Her eyes fluttered opened to a portrait of chaos. She was in Hogwarts, but it wasn't the Hogwarts she'd known for the past four years ; it wasn't the Hogwarts she'd ever want to wake up to. Students she had never seen before scrambled away and tripped in attempt to flee stray hexes. The screaming never seemed to cease, and the heat coming from the rampaging inferno, which consumed most of the hallway into its crimson blaze, was that of hell. Elizabeth pulled herself to her feet and kept her head bowed as she skidded along the walls, trying to escape the havoc. Running down the corridor, Elizabeth pushed through panic-stricken students and those whose injuries left them on the tiles to be swarmed in puddles of their own blood. It was her anxiety kicking in all over again ; her eyes widening, her forehead sweating, her chest heaving, and her senses sharp and acute. She didn't know what she was thrashing for, what she was running to, but she knew she had to get to The Great Hall. Arriving right at its entryway, Elizabeth saw that its once mighty doors were blasted off, and it was in a similar scenery as the rest of the castle. The Great Hall was a blur of swishing green and scarlet hexes, fired at a frenzy manner to take down whoever. Amidst all the horror and confusion, all the blood and slaughter, Elizabeth's eyes caught a figure whose sight was truly frightening. She wasn't sure who he was, what he was, but if there was a living model for evil, it would've been him. Cloaked in black, the eyes of a man with the features of a serpent gleamed red, and he prowled the hall so casually, as if he's just so well-adapted to the homicide of minors and bloodshed. It was where he belonged. The most unexpected happened. He, it, caught her looking at him, and he didn't seems all too happy. Narrowing his eyes that were the red slits of a python, raised his wand at her, an Elizabeth couldn't move. Her legs had been turned to stone. She watched his lips mutter an incantation, and with the speed of lightning, the green tail of the killing curse traced her path, and struck her square in the chest.
I don't want to open my eyes. I don't have to open my eyes...
An eerie static enclosed around her ears as Elizabeth arose back to consciousness. Her back rubbed against a soft mattress and she was wrapped in a warm sheet. No more madness. This was Hogwarts ; the realm of reality.
Elizabeth blinked rapidly when her defenseless eyes met the wild light of the sun pouring in through the windows into the spacious room. Having adjusted to the dim room, she looked at her surroundings. Beds at her sides, behind her and ahead of her, she took in the silence of the hospital wing. It must be lunch. How long have I been here ?
Feeling the throbbing pain of her face, Elizabeth nervously caressed her numb cheek where the pitcher plant had struck. Her sensitive patch of skin stung red-hot that she didn't dare brush her index-finger so gently against it. Why, even her jaws creaked with pain when she tried to open her mouth. The pain was going to last a while, she knew that. Glancing to her side, she saw Tom Riddle stir noiselessly on his mattress. The way he slept was somewhat worrying. His skin was so pale and he didn't seem to breathe as he slept, not even his nose twitched, that it made him look like nothing but a cold demised body. His sheets were crumbled beneath his feet.
It must be so cold, Elizabeth thought, eyeing his bandaged shoulder, a bloody spot spreading halfway through the once stainless white of the bandage.
Her robes were lain motionlessly on a wooden chair opposite her, and she got up to put them on. Putting the robes over her shoulder and sliding her arms into the sleeves, she glanced at Tom one more time, his body slumped on the mattress like a lifeless chunk of stone, his wound was still painful to him and pulsing, no doubt.
She wished that if is she's ever to be in that position, she wouldn't be so badly neglected. Who would want to arise with a runny nose and a cough after surviving a lethal wound ? It just wasn't fair to leave him that way, and before the guilt mounting in her stomach could swamp her, she tiptoed to the edge of his bed, pulled the blanket from under his feet, and so motherly placed it over him.
"Miss Emerson, I see you're awake. Feeling better, I hope ?"
Professor Dumbeldore's tone echoed in her ears. To envision that scene and portray it, one could easily tell just how wrong the sight of Elizabeth standing beside Tom's bed, covering him could be intercepted by an innocent bystander. The idea did not demand to be stressed, for it was clear. It was clear enough for Elizabeth with the sunken, non-pulsed heart to understand. She so disbelievingly wheeled around to face the nonchalant look of Dumbeldore. What a wonderful timing. It just couldn't have possibly felt more like the odds have combined to destroy her.
Gazing deeply into the cage of those blue eyes of his, Elizabeth said,"Professor Dumbeldore, hello..."
Don't stutter, now. Don't look guilty. Oh, Heavens, why now ? Why here ?
"Oh, yes, Riddle must be feeling very cold indeed," he stated, glancing down at Tom.
"That was a very considerate thing to do, thank you, Miss Emerson."
Elizabeth kept her eyes downcast to her feet, curiously observing them as if she'd never seen them before and tried to bring a coherent sentence to her lips, but she couldn't.
For the first time in what seemed like eternity, she didn't windup in the hospital wing because she was so "incidentally" hexed in Charms or because someone thought of pulling a savage farce by stretching a foot and tripping her down the stairs, no. This wasn't one of those embarrassing occasions that really seemed to be what her Hogwarts life composed of where she went to see Madam Klerk all teary-eyed and left so shakily to be subjected to more sarcastic peer-pressure. Elizabeth was standing there with half of her face painfully numb because she's finally done something that was considered Gryffindor-ish. But, of course, it was still achieved by a smart slap across the face from a thick branch, but that didn't seem to wipe away the joyous pride of that hour. No, not even rub the surface.
Professor Dumbeldore blinked at the day-dreaming Elizabeth, captivating her wandering attention once again when he said, "Your parents were informed of what took place the other day."
They were informed ? The other day ? Her eyes widened as she tried to progress the situation. Knowing her mother, there was not a chance a week could go by without a delivery of approximately five letters that neither she nor Joelle bothered to skim anymore, and she couldn't, she just wouldn't let her mind wander anywhere near what her mother could've done in the light of Elizabeth's injury. She just couldn't. Her father, a very preoccupied merchant, wouldn't let it slide away so easily either. Elizabeth's stomach churned as she took note of the hurricane of fawning and scolding quickly swirling its way to her.
"... And if you feel apt enough to follow me, I'd take you to Headmaster Dippet's office where they are waiting for you."
At catching Professor Dumbeldore's words, the surprise of it all hit her like a pot that banged against her head. It was unasked for from her, but the image of her mother raving to a flustered Headmaster Dippet and her father nodding his agreement in boredom was slowly drawn in her mind by an invisible hand. "You... say they're here, Professor ?" She gulped. "Yes, Miss Emerson, that's what I said, and if you'll follow me, I shall take you to them," he proclaimed, gazing at her momentarily and turning away. Together, they left the hospital wing and crossed bustling hallways and made numerous turns that made it all seem like they were a mere pair of ants journeying their way through a vast garden maze. Heads turned and students lisped and whispered to each other when she walked by. For her, it didn't seem like they'd put in much effort to gossip without attracting her penetrating gaze. When you think about it, grabbing your mate in one arm to whisper to them with your hand covering their ear meanwhile gawping at the target of your gossip is not only not an exact perseverance of secrecy but quite tactless too. And that was exactly what all those girls failed to see, but Elizabeth decided not to react to it this time. It was still as nauseating as ever, but then, it was a simple "no" to her. The hallways seemed a whole lot more abandoned as they edged nearer to the Headmaster's office. In the light of legal guardians brought into question, Elizabeth couldn't help thinking about the befallen Tom laying back at the hospital wing. For sure his parents were informed too, weren't they ? Taking a deep breath, Elizabeth found herself saying,"Professor ?"
"Yes?" He replied, his hands tied behind his back and looking down at her as he paced on.
"It's probably none of my business, but I can't help wondering... What about Tom ?"
"What about Riddle ?" Dumbeldore's tone remained composed and thankfully not anywhere as edgy as Elizabeth thought it to be. "Haven't his - erm - parents been called in ?"
Professor Dumbeldore did take a pause to answer her, but when he did, he so simply said," That, Miss Emerson, concerns Riddle alone, for now, why don't you think about your parents ? I daresay, they seemed to be quite worried about your well-being."
I'm sure they did, Sir. Elizabeth inhaled deeply and braced herself for whatever was awaiting her, and there they were, standing before the grotesque gargoyle. "The Fourth Eclipse," Dumbeldore said to it, and it slowly moved to the side, scratching against the wall it shielded.
Dumbeldore stood aside and beckoned for Elizabeth to go in before him. Torches flickering at her sides and Dumbeldore's heavy footstep falling behind her, Elizabeth climbed the narrow stone staircase that led to the office where she could already hear her parents and Professor Dippet in a deep discussion. The picture of the ovally-shaped, carpeted office whose shelves adorned it like walls came into view as she marched up each step and so did that of her parents sitting around Dippet's desk in comfortable leather armchairs.
Dippet's shimmering brown eyes swiveled to where Elizabeth and Professor Dumbeldore stood and smiled.
"There she is, thank you, Albus." The headmaster beamed and beckoned to Elizabeth to come forward. Her mother's wide eyes twinkled with satisfaction as they fell upon her and looked like she was barely restraining herself from taking her into her arms. What really surprised Elizabeth was the sight of her father. A gentle smile crossed his lips and his eyes were the usual shade of blue and warm. She hadn't seen him since the very start of summer when he'd traveled to America, and there he was. He must've missed a great deal of work. Something felt satisfactory but also guilty about having him here. "Hi," Elizabeth breathed when she stood before her parents. "How are you feeling, Dear ?" Her father spoke. His blonde hair was ruffled and assumably neglected after numerous attempts to comb it but Elizabeth felt happy to see that nothing has really changed. "Great," she smiled.
"Well enough to return to your classes, I hope ?" Professor Dippet cut in, entwining his fingers under his chin. "Yes, I guess so, Sir." Her father stood up from his armchair and beamed widely. "Well, thank you for your time, Headmaster Dippet." He said and his wife followed. It cannot be denied how displeased Elizabeth was with such brief reunion. If you are going to journey such long distances and take-up a very hassled headmaster's time just to ask someone how they're doing, you might as well just write a letter and get it over with. Thinking along these lines, Elizabeth couldn't help admitting to herself how much she missed home and couldn't wait for the promising frost of winter and its Christmas to return back to its comforts. The three of them bid old Dippet farewell and excused Professor Dumbeldore as they made their way out of the office. "I could walk you to the doors," Elizabeth suggested after her mother wrapped her in her longing arms and held her to her chest. "Of course, you could," her father said, reaching a finger to swipe a thread of hair away from her eyes.
"We heard about the boy you helped the other day," her mother continued as they turned around a corner only to find themselves in another winding corridor. Elizabeth gulped silently at these words. She wasn't sure she was ready to discuss that yet. "He was really hurt, Mum," her words trailed off slowly. "But so were you," her father remarked matter-of-factly. "Well, I'm fine now, aren't am I ?" Elizabeth emphasized as she took to observing her pacing feet. "What was his name ? Thomas -Er- Something ?" He was something when it comes to everything, indeed. "Tom Riddle," She muttered, averting her gaze away from her father's. "It was very brave of you," her mother stated soothingly , stepping down a marble flight of staircase. "Very odd, too," father added. "Now, that's enough, Manuel." warned her husband patiently. He shrugged and responded," All I meant to say is that I find it odd that my little Lizzie here skipped class to come down to the greenhouses and peer at that Thomas Riley fellow."
Elizabeth opened her mouth to correct her father on many accounts ; Tom Riddle's name was one and the fact that her interest lay in the pitcher plant and not in him was another. But that was wiped clean from her mind and replaced by the scene which lay out in front of her as they walked past the hospital wing. Her grey eyes were stationed upon the three boys prattling as they stood thronged outside the door of the hospital wing. She watched and watched and it wasn't long until Lestrange, Avery, and Malfoy watched back. They silenced their murmuring and let their fathomless eyes, each with a hungrier spark than the other, pour into her. It was tense and all too scary until...
"Which one of you boys is Thomas Riley ?" Manuel called out.
Elizabeth felt her legs wobble underneath her as if they were chopsticks instead of legs. Defeatedly, embarrassingly, she shifted her eyes from her father staring expectantly at the boys and the boys staring back at him. Each one wore a different expression. Malfoy had his face perked in disgust and superiority as he stared at as if he had a bug crawling up his sleeve, meanwhile Avery, seeming to have grasped his question, smirked humorously back at him and shot him a most undermining look and Lestrange only peered angrily at him. Elizabeth felt her stomach squirm and she wanted to vomit. Breathing heavily, she rushed past her parents, leaving curious pairs of eyes tracing her down the hall and around the corner. "Elizabeth, darling," she heard her mother catch up, grasping her elbow. "No reason to run away like that," she said.
"Mum, that was so embarrassing !" Elizabeth burst out rather loudly. "I know, I know. But, honey, your father has the best intentions, and he is only somewhat - say - unpredictable at times." Mrs. Emerson explained, clutching Elizabeth's arm. "I don't care-" Trotting down the hallway, here came her father's booming voice, interrupting her," What happened ? What'd you run off for ?"
"What did you do ?!" Elizabeth asked grimly. "Nothing. We just had a laugh that's all." Elizabeth blushed furiously, knowing that her father was too oblivious to see that if a Malfoy, an Avery, and a Lestrange were all to laugh, the joke is on you, really. "Well, I'd hate to hold you back anymore. The doors are just this way...,"
They walked in silence until the majestic, oak doors that led to the grounds surfaced before them. Stopping abruptly, Elizabeth said,"Oh, farewell, then."
"Goodbye, Dear," Mrs. Emerson leaned in to give her a quick smooch on the cheek, which was quite inevitable then but the corridor was luckily empty. A few more minutes of hugs and farewells and Elizabeth was walking back to the Gryffindor common room. She wistfully thought of the classes she'd missed the other day and that entire morning. It was never a good thing to skip so many sessions especially if one was on their OWL year. Such tardiness meant a whole deal of staying up late in the library, flipping through tremendous amounts of books. Sighing in exasperation, Elizabeth stood before the portrait of The Fat Lady and said," Scarlet Armory." The portrait swung to the side to reveal the dim Gryffindor house wrapped in peculiar silence. Meanwhile she was peering in the deserted common room, the others were taking notes which were equal in significance as they were in boredom, without a doubt. Sighing once more, she stepped and it so felt like she'd plunged in an entirely new surface from the one she'd been in earlier, for the silence was gone and there was a monotone continues humming in the common room instead. Her head spinning she blindly headed for the stairs and heard the familiar words of a dream repeat in hear head,"But I do detect the suspicious movement of the stars..."
"What's that supposed to..."
The words seemed to collide in her head and all she could hear was a jumble of noise, and as she climbed the staircase leading to the girl's dormitory she heard the sentence that'd been repeating faintly in the back of her mind," Tomorrow, the boy dies ! Understood ?"
Soon enough, Elizabeth covered her mouth in sickness and rushed to grasp the door of the nearby bathroom open and jolted in. Lowering her head into the sink and breathing heavily, something felt wrong, so wrong. And such wrongness felt so close and watching her. Lifting her head up to gaze at the mirror, the one who gazed back at her with an untroubled smirk crossing his lips was not her reflection. He said with his voice that was parallel to that of the one she heard in hear dream before the attack of the pitcher plant, he said,"Hello."