I stared up at the hangings of my bed in the darkness. I was exhausted, but I couldn't sleep. I hadn't been able to sleep for days. I listened to the breath of the other three girls in my dormitory, and wondered whether Dora was awake too.
Even if I could have been certain that she was awake, I wasn't sure that I would have spoken to her. There was no way I would ever be able to explain what was troubling me, and I was fairly sure that I had noticed her withdrawing when it came to telling me about what was bothering her.
I had received another letter from my mother about wedding arrangements. I would be getting my nuptial robes from Madame Pussifoots, apparently, and the decorations would follow a white and silver theme. The cake would be twelve tiers of light sponge ("fruit cake in summer is dreadfully common"), with layers of lemon curd and cream. It would be accompanied by small meringues, thinly sliced bread and butter and champagne enchanted to glitter like liquid silver. A troupe of singing pixies would provide music.
I sighed and turned over, hopelessly trying to find a position in which I would be comfortable enough to sleep. My mind kept filling with horrible images: Lucius leading me in the first dance to the high voices of the pixies, dressed in silvery robes that matched both his cold eyes and the decorations. Even scarier was the idea that he might take it upon himself to go through my possessions for some reason, and chance upon one of the books Ted had given me. I still kept them both at the bottom of my trunk- despite my resolution to be rid of them, I hadn't brought myself get rid of them. Once I was married, I would have to- I couldn't risk them being found out. The very thought of doing so made me want to cry.
I must have slipped into sleep eventually because I was woken the next morning by the shrill cry of my clock ("Oi, lazybones! It's seven thirty!"). I was absolutely exhausted.
"Shut up," I mumbled.
"It's your fault if you're tired!" it screamed. "And your friend went downstairs thirty minutes ago!" I was reaching around for a pillow to throw at it when it added, "She was in tears!"
I froze. "What? Why?"
"How should I know! I'm just a clock!"
Narrowly resisting the temptation to slam it into the wall, I quickly got dressed to go and find Dora. Within minutes, I was all but running from the dormitory, heading towards the Great Hall although I suspected that she would probably be walking the grounds. On reaching the Hall, a quick glance up and down the Slytherin table showed that I was right. Dora was nowhere to be seen. I quickly grabbed a stack of toast and a banana before going outside. As soon as I left the castle I began to run, certain that something was very wrong. Dora didn't cry.
I found Dora by the lake. She wasn't crying, but her eyes were rimmed with red and her eyelashes clung together damply. She wore a thin set of black robes, but she didn't seem to be cold. I shivered- even in my woolly cloak, I was freezing.
"Dora?" I asked softly, sitting down beside her. "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer immediately, so I held out the stack of toast to her. She absently took a slice in her hand and held it as though she had forgotten what to do next.
"Dora?" I asked again.
She turned her tearstained face to me. "It's Evan."
I sat silently, waiting for her to continue. There was a long moment of silence. Dora began to shred the slice of toast, pulling off little bits and dropping them to the grass. She shook her head. "I-I can't say it." Tears sprung to her eyes again.
I reached to hug her but she pulled away quickly and gasped, "He's dead!" She tore the piece of toast in half and hurled it to the ground, breaking into noisy sobs. "Mother wrote to me this morning. I still don't believe it. How can he be dead?"
I hugged her again and this time she didn't pull away. She didn't respond at all, continuing to cry as though I wasn't even there. I felt helpless and incredibly sorry for her, unable even to imagine how I would cope if one of my sisters died. I wanted to ask what had happened to him, but didn't want to upset her more. Instead I just continued to sit there hugging her as she cried, wishing that there was something more I could do.
A few minutes later, the bell rang. I didn't move, not expecting Dora to be up to lessons and fully prepared to miss mine in order to keep her company. Instead, she stood stiffly.
"You're going to lessons?" I asked, surprised.
"Yeah," she said. Her voice was a little hoarse. "Can I have some toast please?"
"Um, of course," I said, passing her some toast. "But you don't have to go to lessons- I'm sure the teachers will understand if you don't."
"I won't let them win," she said stiffly. She shoved the toast in her mouth furiously and chewed twice before swallowing it almost whole.
I didn't ask who they were. Instead, I followed her up to the castle. When we got to the Entrance Hall, we separated to go to our different lessons. I hugged Dora tightly as we said goodbye, and hoped- prayed- she would be alright.
It was only when I got to my lesson (Potions) that the full force of what had happened hit me. Evan Rosier, my cousin Evan, was dead. I hadn't liked him particularly, or even really known him, despite being related. He had always been closer to Bella. Even so, I found myself biting back tears. I couldn't help but remember all the times he and Bella had babysat me, Dora and Cissy while our parents were at parties. When Cissy had been disappointed at not being allowed to go to balls, he'd attempted to teach the three of us to dance- laughing at Dora's clumsiness but patiently tutoring Cissy until she became better at it than he was. Those times felt like another lifetime- more recently, the only times he had been to our house were to hole up in Bella's room, going through the vast collection of books on Dark Magic she had amassed. Even so, I couldn't imagine him killing or torturing anyone: I had always imagined his interest in the Dark Arts to be purely academic, like Bella's.
A cold chill ran through me. What if Bella's interest wasn't purely academic?
"Miss Black?" Slughorn's voice cut through my train of thought.
I jerked my head up. "Yes."
"I asked you about the differences between the European and North American species of mandrake."
"Oh, uh..." I thought desperately, but my mind was a blank. I could feel the eyes of the entire class on me, and wondered whether they had heard about Evan's death. Judging by the lack of whispers when I had entered the room, it hadn't yet been reported in the Prophet.
"Are you feeling alright?" Slughorn asked, suddenly full of concern. For once, I was glad to be one of his favourites.
"Er… Actually, not really," I said, too quickly to be convincing. "I've, er, got a really bad headache. Sorry," I added, even less convincingly.
"Well, perhaps you'd better hurry along to the hospital wing. I'm sure your potion making skills are good enough to withstand you missing one lesson although we'll be sorry not to have you, of course," Slughorn said genially.
"Thank you, Sir," I said. I stood up, somewhat shakily, and made my way out of the room. I could feel the curious stares of my classmates on me, but I barely cared. When I reached the empty corridor outside the classroom, I stopped and leant against the wall for a few moments. Of course Bella wouldn't really use the spells she reads about, I told myself. She's not evil. She couldn't.
Could she?
I wondered whether Slughorn would check whether I had really gone to the hospital wing. I felt sick, but I knew there was nothing in the hospital wing that could make the slightest bit of difference. Instead, I turned and began to walk in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room. I didn't know what I'd do when I got there- my mind felt too fragmented and distracted to focus on anything.
When I arrived in our dormitory I found Dora lying on her bed. It was obvious that she had been crying- her cheeks were wet and her eyes red. Now, however, she was silent and still.
I ran to her bed, dropping my bag on the floor. "Dora, are you alright?" I realised immediately how stupid my question was. Of course she wasn't alright.
"I couldn't do it," she said flatly. "Turns out Arithmancy isn't as much of a distraction as I thought. Mother's going to come and pick me up after lunch."
"Oh… Right."
"I'm sorry, Meda- I can't stay here."
"No, I understand," I said.
"No you don't," she snapped. "All of your family is alive, none are in a prison where they'd be b-better off dead." She began to cry again.
"I suppose not," I admitted.
"So how can you possibly understand?" she sobbed. "No-one understands." I hugged her as she cried, and eventually she stopped and wiped her eyes fiercely. "Sorry. It's not your fault. I shouldn't have snapped at you."
"Don't you dare worry about it," I told her.
"I just want everything back to the way it was," she sobbed. "My father out of prison, and E-E-Evan-" She broke off. "I can't bear it!" She shook herself suddenly and wiped her eyes roughly with her sleeve again, before getting up and beginning to fold clothes.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked.
"Not really."
"Ok." I got up and began to help her fold her clothes and to pack them into her trunk with her books and her other belongings.
A few hours later, she had left Hogwarts. I was alone save for my other two housemates and the books in my trunk. To my disgust, my traitorous mind leapt immediately to the one person I most needed to avoid thinking about- Ted Tonks.
A/N: I found this chapter really hard to write. I've never had anyone close to me die, so I found it really hard to imagine how Dora would react.I hope it's semi-realistic and in character- and sorry if it isn't. The next chapter should be better- and will feature Ted again!