Harry couldn't help but think of the magic the death eaters had used when they came to Voldemort's call, the night of the TriWizard Tournament, the night Cedric had been murdered. He was sure it was shadow magic… the same magic Valkyrie had used. Was she a death eater? Working right under his nose? After his experience with Moody/Barty Crouch junior, anything was possible. And now, with Umbridge at Hogwarts… she was working for the ministry, but she seemed like the type that would work against the muggles, as Voldemort did. Could she even be one of his followers? But Valkyrie didn't like Umbridge – she had insulted her twice before getting her name right, and it was clear from the prank she pulled with Fred and George that they hated each other. But Valkyrie had used Necromancy. And it wasn't exactly something you could just waltz up and ask her about 'Hey Valkyrie, how've you been, I was just wondering if you're working for the darkest wizard of all time? But Dumbledore would never have let them in if he knew she worked for Voldemort. But, Moody/Crouch managed to get that close to him without his suspicions rising until it was too late, it couldn't happen again could it?
Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It was the middle of the night so he couldn't'; exactly do anything about it now, but he knew if he went to sleep again, he would have nightmares. Absurdly real nightmares. Harry stood and walked to the window, opening it and letting in the cool air. He looked down, feeling the low wind bristle his hair, and felt his breath hitch in his throat. He could see someone. They were sitting on the hill, alone. No one should be out that late.
Harry closed the window quietly and turned, picking up his invisibility cloak from under his bed and throwing it over himself. He grabbed his wand and hurried out of the dorm and out of the common room, startling the poor Fat Lady from her slumber.
His heart pounding, he left the corridors, thanking Merlin that Filch or Peeves hadn't been around. He scurried across the courtyard, and down the stone steps out of the castle. He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was nearly pitch black outside, save for the faint glow of the moonlight.
"Lumos" He muttered, holding his wand under the cloak. A glow erupted from the top of his wand, illuminating a small circle around him. He hurried towards the hill, and then scurried around slightly, so he wouldn't collide with the person when he finally reached the top. He slowed his pace, trying to steady his breathing. He could be heard. His heart pounded in his chest as he began to trudge up the hill to the top, feeling the low wind on the cloak, before he realised who was sat with their knees pulled up to their chest, head held up with eyes closed, as if savouring the wind. It was Valkyrie. Her long dark hair was blowing slightly behind her as Harry tried not to make a sound.
Sat less than 5 meters away was a possible death eater, a possible servant of Lord Voldemort, and he was with her in the dead of night, with only his wand, his cloak and his pyjamas. Harry noticed that Valkyrie was wearing something different to what he had always seen her wearing. She was wearing a t-shirt that looked several sizes too big, and a pair of skin tight shorts. Her legs were bare and it looked like she was wearing slippers. She wasn't saying anything, or doing anything. Just sitting. Sitting on a hill in the middle of the night feeling the wind in her hair. Harry saw her open her eyes slightly, looking out blandly. She seemed almost sad. Then she sighed and ran her hand through her hair, itching slightly at the back of her head. She stretched out her legs form their bent position and cracked her knuckles. Harry could see the muscles in her legs, tones and strong, and then looked away. It didn't feel right to be watching her like this, when she was vulnerable, in her pyjamas, not having the faintest idea he was there. Should he show himself? He didn't know. If she was a death eater it would be the single most stupid idea ever. But if she wasn't, and she was just a teenage girl in need of someone her own age (or slightly younger) to talk to... Although he was sure she practised necromancy, she seemed friendly enough, even after she had beaten whose two criminals to a pulp she seemed friendly. That was the problem. She had beaten up 2 men, and acted exactly the same, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She is a detective, it probably is normal to her. Did that matter? Did that have any influence at all? Harry didn't know.
"Oh shut up." She muttered. Harry froze. Had he made a noise? No, he didn't, he was sure of it. She was talking to herself. Was she still asleep?
"I'm not letting you out, so just forget it." She said again. Then she scoffed, as if someone had made a witty yet stupid remark. "Not gonna happen, so get used to it."
Harry squinted his eyes slightly. Was there someone else in the dark he couldn't see? No, he would have heard them talking back to her. It wasn't the other detective, that was for sure. It seemed as if Valkyrie was having a conversation with herself, with someone in her head. Maybe Hermione was right about her having secrets. Was she a schizophrenic? Or just crazy? She seemed sane enough.
Valkyrie ran her fingers through her hair again, but didn't seem prepared to say anything more. Harry's wand was still lit up, but he didn't dare say 'nox' to extinguish it. She might hear him, and until he decided whether he was going to show himself or not, he didn't want her to realise he was there.
Harry felt like he was stood in the cold for ages before he finally decided that now was as good a time as any.
"Nox" He whispered before he removed the cloak. "Hey," Valkyrie jumped, conjuring a fireball in her hand in an instant before relaxing.
"God Harry you scared the crap out of me!" She muttered, holding it up as a light source. "What are you doing here, Harry. Students aren't allowed out of bed after hours."
"I could ask the same of you." Harry said shortly, before he sat on the grass beside her.
"I'm a teacher, I can stay up as late as I want." She smiled slightly, but now that Harry was closer to her, he noticed the dark circles under her eyes.
"Why are you out of bed?" He asked. She looked away and sighed.
"Just bad dreams. It's ok, it's normal. You?"
"Same. What are yours about?"
"Doesn't matter. It's nothing important." She muttered "Yours?"
"Nothing important." He said, in the same tone she used. She tilted her head to him, smiling.
"How long have yours been going on for?" She asked.
"Since just before school started this year, a lot of similar ones. Yours?"
"Years." She replied shortly "Nearly always the same." They fell silent, and the wind seemed to halt alongside them.
"Um, someone said that you, practised, Necromancy…"
"Yeah, I do." Valkyrie nodded. "But I wouldn't worry about it, I'm not a follower."
"A follower?" Harry said, a hint of worry in his voice.
"For sorceress, to become A Necromancer is to accept their religion. I was just told I had a knack for it, given the object that gets the power and trained up a bit. I don't think I'll stick with it though. Sorcerers have to choose their branch of magic when they turn 19-ish, out of Elemental, Necromancer or Adept. I think I'm going to choose Elemental."
"Can't you change, after you've decided?"
"You could, but it would be really difficult. Besides, Skulduggery's an elemental, so I can still train with him if I pick that. And Necromancy hasn't gotten a lot of good said about it as of late – they've been messing around with death and stuff. It's not good." Valkyrie sighed "You know, they tried to raise a death bringer the other year. Someone who could kill half the world's population at the same time to rupture the barrier between life and death, and put the whole world in limbo."
"They didn't!"
"They tried. We managed to stop them. Melancholia her name was. I do not want to meet her again." Valkyrie whistled "She did not like me."
"She didn't hurt you, did she?"
"God yeah. She hunted me out in the middle of the night, shadow-walked me a few miles and slit me to ribbons. When I recovered-"
"How do you recover form being slit to ribbons?!"
"With a lot of magical doctors and brilliance. Anyway, when I recovered, she began to try to kill everyone, even trying to kill me again. We managed to stop her, but only just."
"Is that what your nightmares are about? Melancholia?"
"They're…something to do with her I guess." Valkyrie said quietly. She wasn't looking at Harry anymore, and brought her knees back up to her chest.
"Was, was that you being tortured?" Harry asked.
"No" Valkyrie replied after a minute "I mean, I guess it could be classed as that, she did enjoy putting me through pain, but, no. Nerferian Serpine tortured me when I was thirteen, and I've been cut open and left on an operating table by a banshee called Dr Nye, I've been kidnapped so many times I've forgotten and beaten up so many times I'd like to forget. I've broken possibly every bone and punctured nearly every organ in some way or form." She sighed "And I've been in more pain than I thought was possible. But you know what?"
"What?" Harry asked. Valkyrie turned to him and smiled.
"It's been the best thing that ever happened to me. I couldn't imagine my life being any different." Harry looked up at her as she smiled sadly, and then she stood.
"C'mon. I'll go back to bed if you do."
"Ok." Harry muttered, standing. They walked back to the Gryffindor common room together, and Valkyrie waved goodbye, letting Harry disappear back to his dorm. As Harry lay on his bed, he couldn't help thinking about everything Valkyrie had said. She'd been through so much, and she was still fighting. If she was crazy, Harry wouldn't be surprised. Or shocked. Or judgemental. He reckoned that their conversation should remain secret, and that if she really was crazy, he wouldn't be surprised.
Valkyrie left Harry at the Fat Lady portrait, just before the Gryffindor common room, and began walking back to the teachers corridor. She didn't know if it was because they'd both been tortured, or if she was just lonely, but she felt like she could tell Harry things he would understand, things he wouldn't judge her about. But she couldn't tell him about Darquesse. She couldn't tell anyone about that, about the way the images of her destroying the world, murdering her family in cold blood, watching her friends writhe and die in agony, haunted her each night. No one could know about Darquesse, and know one could know about Lord Vile. Not now. Not ever.
If only she knew how wrong she could be
