Hello everyone. Thank you for the favorites and the follows. RiddleAllOfMe, Split Syllables, 91, thank you for the follows. I hope you enjoy. Erika Albuquerque - I'm not sure if you will ever find the story again but here's to hoping.
Without further ado, here is the next chapter!
Chapter 7: Meltdown
Meissa was quiet, trailing after Harry and Ron with Hermione by her side. Taking the steps in a slow pace but at the same time keeping up with the boys as they chattered among themselves.
"I'm telling you, it's spooky," Weasley was whispering, "She knows more about you than you do."
Meissa glances at the brunette besides her, wondering if she's feeling okay, pausing with her when she saw something move out of the corner of her eyes.
"Who doesn't?"
"Harry, you should probably know that there's been these-," Meissa was saying before the staircase shuddered underneath them and with a sickening lurch she grabs the railing besides her.
"Ahh!"
Hermione gasped while Harry grabbed the railing too, his eyes wide behind his glasses. "What's happening?"
"The staircases change, remember?" Hermione retorts.
Meissa looks around before she narrows her eyes in recognition. Just as Harry tapped Ron on she grabs them both before they could run up the stairs. "This is the third floor," she hisses, "the Forbidden corridor is down this way." She points to another set of stairs that led down but it was the only option that wouldn't require them backtracking and wasting ten minutes to find their way around this latest problem.
"But we could cut through here to -," Ron was saying.
"Do you really want to have another meeting with that filthy cat and its owner?" Meissa interrupts.
"Meissa," Hermione scolds.
"What, you know I'm right," the raven-haired girl retorts. "Those two stalk the halls and I actually wouldn't be surprised if they were lurking around right now." The boys looked around out of paranoia. "Let's go," she takes the path she had pointed out, stopping about half way to see if anyone is following her.
The only one who even moved was Hermione and when she looks at the boys she saw that distrust were clear in their eyes.
"Honestly," she rolls her eyes at them. "I make a deal with you and you still don't trust me." She turns with a huff and was quick to make her way down the stairs. If they didn't want to trust her then that's fine with her.
Hermione slips a hand into Meissa's and gives her a reassuring smile when the raven-haired girl glances at her.
"Sometimes," the Slytherin remarks, "I wonder if you're too trusting."
Hermione squeeze her hand before she lets go. "I know a lot about the houses because of Hogwarts: A History," she remarks.
Meissa slowly stopped, the words barely registering at first but once it sunk in she couldn't stop laughing. She actually fell from tripping over her feet.
"Meissa!" Hermione cries when the raven-haired girl rolled down the rest of the steps, running after the fallen girl. She drops to her knees besides the girl who was still laughing. "Meissa, are you okay?" The Slytherin starts to wheeze, her laughter so intense she couldn't stop until she pressed her fist against her mouth. "Did you get hit by a spell?"
Her only answer was a head shake.
Hermione helps the Black heiress back to her feet, relieved that Meissa's laughter was actually dying off. "What has gotten into you?" Hermione asks, poking Meissa in her side. This actually made her giggle a bit before she tried - key word - to regain her composure.
"Sorry, it just, you're basing your opinions of the houses on a book written by Bathilda Bagshot?"
"What's so bad about it?"
"Nothing, nothing at all," Meissa laughs quietly, "It's just, you're going to trust the words of a woman over a century old?"
"But she's gone here," Hermione protests.
"So? There are plenty of secrets here that are well-kept," Meissa dismisses before they come to a corridor that split in opposite directions. She takes her wand out and lays it flat in her palm. "Point me Draco Malfoy," she whispers quietly and the wand spins in her palm once, twice, trice before it settled. The tip was pointing the way to their left. (1)
"That's a handy spell," Hermione remarks.
"Mhm. I don't remember where I found it," Meissa comments as she grips her wand.
"One of the spell books?"
"Maybe." Meissa repeats the spell except this time she used a different name. "Point me Gryffindor Tower." This time the tip fell to the right, indicating that the tower was to their right.
"You could've found your way to the tower without me," Hermione comment, wondering if it could've been easy for any other to find their way to the Gryffindor Tower.
"Not really. I needed to know its general location before I could actually use this spell," Meissa tells her. "Anyway, looks like you need to head that way. If you're not sure where to go use the spell and it'll point you down the right path."
"What, you're not coming with me?"
Meissa smiles brilliantly at her. "You should be able to handle yourself, Hermione. Besides, there isn't much I can do."
"But-."
"Hermione," Meissa clasp her on her shoulders. "You are a brilliant witch and I have all the confidence that with time you'll be the best."
"You've said something like that before."
"I meant it," Meissa remarks drily. "You have the potential to be far, far greater than Morgan Le Fay."
"Now you're really making things up."
Meissa shakes her head and starts backing away. "You'll find out for yourself, Hermione," she waves at the dumbfounded Gryffindor before she turns and ambles away. Her stride long and casual as she left Hermione staring after her.
Sometimes she has no idea what to make of the Black heiress.
~MJB~
Meissa was in the common room, steadfastly ignoring the marks from her supposed duel from the other day. She was dictating her quill what to write, trying her best not to let her mind get distracted like she normally would have.
Occasionally she would choose to mumble or end up talking herself into a circle.
It was actually because of this that she ends up having to write her essays by hand. But dictating her papers by voice meant that she could try and sort her thoughts out first before she has to write it out.
She was still working on her essay when Daphne came into the dungeon. She looked a bit worse for wear though Meissa couldn't fathom a reason for it. "Daphne, are you alright?" she asks before she took notice of her quill scribbling something. "Oi, hold on there!" she shouts as she snatches the quill from the parchment.
She glares at the enchanted quill, "Oh honestly, can't you tell the difference between a conversation and dictation." Annoyed she draws a line through the words it had half written before she had taken noticed.
"Have you lost your mind?" Daphne asks in a dry tone though when the raven-haired girl looks at her she notices that the blonde was keeping a fair distance from her.
"Daphne… what's the matter?" She crosses the room quickly, noting how much Daphne was making an effort to avoid her. "Okay now this is just getting ridiculous."
"Meissa its okay." Meissa narrows her eyes and grabs her wand. "Oh, you're seriously considering that?"
"Well if you would stop moving around!"
Daphne keeps dodging Meissa's attempts to catch up with her. Causing them to run around in circles in the common room until Meissa was scowling at the blonde. They were on opposite sides of the couches. She moves left, Daphne copies her. She moves right, she's copied.
"Daphne Greengrass, tell me what is wrong!"
"Why there has to be something wrong?"
Meissa grips the back of the couch, her anger rising - its jagged nails tearing at her. But at the same time there was something deep inside that told her. Told her she couldn't just let this slip.
"Greengrass, I'm giving you exactly one chance to tell me what is wrong or else I will start using spells!"
Daphne whips out her own wand and soon they were reduced to standing there, aiming at each other.
"I really don't want to do this," Daphne confess after they just stood there for a few seconds.
"Then tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing."
"That's about as true as me saying I'm muggleborn,"
Daphne glares at the raven-haired girl. "You're being ridiculous."
"I know I am, what about you."
"Just stop it!"
"So what, you're allowed to care about me but the second I start to do the same you just shut me down?" Meissa retorts angrily. "It isn't right!"
"Why not? You benefit from it!"
"Because that's not what friends are!"
The two of them stare at each other, poised to fight but extremely reluctant to. Daphne thought that Meissa could beat her hands down. Meissa thought about how much she didn't want to hurt Daphne.
"I've seen what you do," Daphne mutters.
"So?"
"So? So I don't want people to get hurt because of me!"
Meissa shakes her head in confusion. "People get hurt all the time!"
"Not because they hurt me! Not because you got angry that I was hurt or nearly hurt!"
"You're being unreasonable!"
"Well you're irrational!"
"That's the same thing!"
"You're not helping your point at all."
Meissa throws her arms up in frustration. "So what, do you want me to not defend you at all? Do you want me to sit back and let people like Parkinson just walk all over you?" she demands angrily.
"No!"
The two girls glare at each other from opposite sides of the couches.
"You're making no sense," Meissa whispers quietly. "What is it you want from me. Tell me and I'll do it without hesitation!"
"I don't want you to get in trouble with the professors over me."
"You're my friend. I thought…" Meissa shakes her head and bit her knuckle. Her wand trembling as she fought to understand. "I don't know anymore," she mutters quietly, her wand lowering.
"Meissa…"
She shakes her head, refusing to listen anymore, and with a long sweep of her wand her things organize themselves into a neat stack before it flies into her outstretched hand. "You want to be left alone," she mutters, "then I'll leave you alone."
With that she disappears down the stairs, ignoring Daphne's attempts to call her back.
~MJB~
The rest of October rolled by quickly and the stony silence between Greengrass and Black had become noticeable to all of Slytherin. Draco was privy to the dark moods his cousin was in and frequently had to shut her in an empty classroom when her expression turned thunderous and her fingers start to twitch.
Parkinson was quick to take advantage of the rift between the two and was frequently cornering Greengrass. Whenever Meissa catches Parkinson and Greengrass together she would watch them. A dark look would settle on her face as per what she said she left it alone. Often turning a blind eye to whatever was happening.
Soon Halloween was here and Meissa's mood has not improved one iota since the beginning of the month. So in Charms, when Professor Flitwick announced that he believed they were ready to start making objects fly her mood actually took a turn for the worst.
Daphne and her, prior their falling out, were usually partners in everything. Now, she's been pairing up with whomever is brave enough to face her dark moods and low tolerances for mess ups.
However, by Halloween - after two straight weeks - the number of students willing to pair up with her had gone from half of the class to maybe a small tiny handful. And the students she had yet to pair up with were incompetent.
From across the room Hermione tries to smile at her in reassurance, fully aware that for the last week or so the Slytherin's mood has been rather poor lately. But Meissa felt that Hermione needed the reassurance since she was paired with Ronald Weasley.
"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. And once again Meissa was fighting the urge to nudge one of the books out of place with a well-aimed spell. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too - never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."
Meissa eyes her partner, an apathetic Slytherin she couldn't quite place, and she gestures at the feather. "You first."
"Don't think you can do it?" her partner sneers.
"I rather show you up," she remarks drily.
Five tries later - and a fire at Harry and Seamus' table - and her partner had yet to lift the feather while Meissa sat nearby, her hand ready to block the errant wand before it could poke an eye out.
Meissa was looking around in class, and her attention fell on Hermione and Ron. The redhead looked to be at his wits end with the spell.
"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.
"You're saying it wrong, "she hears Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long." Meissa winces at the tone she had used - she had no doubt that the redhead would take offense to it.
"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.
Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"
Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.
"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"
Meissa smirks at the spluttering outrage from her partner.
"What, angry you've been shown up by a muggleborn?" Meissa chuckles as she takes her wand. "Perhaps I can help you feel better." With a swish and a flick she wordlessly sends the feather floating up to join Hermione's flower.
"A nonverbal spell!" her partner shrieks, earning the attention of Professor Flitwick.
"Who cast a nonverbal spell?"
"She did!"
Ousted Meissa meets the professor's gaze with a bored look.
"Most unexpected, Miss Black," the Professor compliments. He studies the floating feather with an approving smile. "An uncommon skill for one your age yet impressive nevertheless."
"Thank you Professor Flitwick," she bows her head.
"If I may, who taught you to perform non-verbal magic?"
"No one, sir," she answers smoothly, "I read in a book that non-verbal magic is harder to perform and the spells are often weaker."
He stares at her, studying her. "Then you mean to tell me that you learned how to cast a spell non-verbally for the challenge?" She nods her head. "Ten points to Slytherin for determination," he praises before he levels a stern look at her. "However, I do urge you to exercise caution when you practice your spells."
"Yes sir."
He studies her for another moment before he reminds the others that they still need to levitate their feathers.
~MJB~
Meissa was in a good mood by the end of the class - she managed to show up a Slytherin, an arrogant one at that - and she earned the house some points. Though now she has to wonder if it's possible for her to start learning how to cast the spells wandlessly.
It was this thought that distracted her as the rest of her house hurried out of the classroom, leaving her surrounded by the Gryffindors.
"Meissa," she hears someone greet her and when she turns to look she sees that it's Hermione.
"Ello," she greets as she slings her bag over her shoulder, sliding her wand into its' holster.
Hermione smiles at her, "You were brilliant in there."
Meissa barely managed to suppress her grin into a tiny smirk. "I've had a lot of practice," she excuses.
"How, we're the same age."
Meissa tilts her head thoughtfully at Hermione, thinking. "Being a pureblood has some advantage," she admits reluctantly. "Old families have wards set up that prevents the Ministry of Magic from detecting certain… types of magic," she explains in the lowest voice she could muster.
"But isn't that illegal?"
The Black heiress fidgets as she tries to think of an explanation. "The Ministry has to recognize that the older families practice traditions that have long been discarded by modern wizarding society," she finally starts to explain. "This, in a way, gives the old families some space to teach their children magic at a fairly young age."
"So, you were taught by your family?"
"I didn't say that."
Hermione looks puzzled at her. "Then what are you saying?"
Meissa sighs as she tries to figure out what to say. "My family didn't teach me any magic. It's too… fractured for that." She grimaced at the word she had chosen but couldn't take it back. "But because I'm a pureblood and because I was raised by my godfather the Ministry couldn't quite… put a Trace on me." She gestures at Hermione. "If you had been born to a witch or a wizard chances are they wouldn't have placed a Trace on you either."
Hermione shakes her head in confusion, "This makes little sense."
Meissa laughs softly. "I'm sorry, I know it doesn't make much sense but it's why I have a bit of an edge."
"I envy you," Hermione mutters quietly.
Meissa glances at her before staring at the two boys ahead of them. "Um… if you want, you could come over to my house over the summer and we could practice a bit…"
"Really?" Meissa didn't fail to hear the excited note in Hermione's voice but she sure didn't expect the Gryffindor to throw her arms around her happily. "Thank you!"
At first the Black heiress stiffened under the touch but just as Hermione was going to pull away - apologies on the tip of her tongue - she hugs her back. The Gryffindor barely had the time to register the returned gesture when it was gone. When she looks at the other girl she found that there was an uneasy look on her face coupled with a hesitant smile.
It was such a conflicting look Hermione had no idea what to do about it.
She was going to say something when they hear someone say something very loudly. "It's Leviosa, not Leviosar." Hermione tenses up at the words. "It's no wonder no one can stand her."
Meissa recognizes the voice to belong to Ron and her face darkens as she realizes what's happening. "She's a nightmare, honestly."
Hermione burst to tears and was hurrying away, knocking into Harry, before Meissa could say a word.
"Hermione!" she calls after the girl, giving chase. But before she went too far she whirls around to glare at the redhead. "Next time, Weasley, watch your mouth!" she growls at the startled boy.
Angry but at the same time worried, Meissa chases after Hermione and when she lost her - a group of Hufflepuff boys had obscured her vision - she retorts to using the point me spell.
The spell took her up to the fifth floor and when she entered the restroom she could hear Hermione's crying.
"Hermione…" she whispers quietly, easing the door shut behind her.
She stops and could barely make out the hitch in the Gryffindor's breathing. "Hermione, it's me, Meissa…"
"Leave me alone," Hermione sniffles from one of the stalls.
"You shouldn't be alone."
"But-."
"No buts," the Back heiress interrupts. She turns and, with a wave of her wand, she locks the door to ensure some privacy.
"Why do you want to be around me," the Gryffindor sniffles, "You heard what he said."
"Why would I listen to a Weasley?" A stall door cracks open and Meissa sees her disapproval. "Hey there," she smiles, amused by the look the other girl had given her. But the tears and red cheeks tugged at her heart. She made a vow to herself that she'll make the boy pay.
Hermione smiles shyly at her, rubbing her cheeks roughly to wipe away the tears. But Meissa could see that the Gryffindor was feeling insecure still and there was something in her eyes - other than tears - that told the Slytherin that she wanted to ask a question but was afraid to.
"Mione…"
"Am I a nightmare?"
Meissa raise an eyebrow at her before going over to her to clasp her shoulders. It was as close to a hug she was willing to get. "You're passionate," Meissa words carefully, "Opinionated." She smiles reassuringly at the depressed Gryffindor. "Compassionate. Responsible." Hermione starts to blush at the compliments but she was still sniffling. "Hey," she mutters, "Ron - he's a kind of guy who doesn't like to be shown up."
"But -."
"No buts," she interrupts. She had no intention to allow Hermione to wallow. She hated the tears and she didn't want her to cry, not ever again. "Please, don't cry anymore…"
"Why do you see so much they can't see?"
Meissa shrugs her shoulders, "I watch. I always watch and listen when no one else does."
"Then you may be even smarter than myself."
"No, Hermione, I observe. That's all. You…" she pause to try and find the right word. "I believe you can piece together what I've seen."
Hermione stares at her for a long moment before she shakes her head. "Thanks… you know, for following."
Meissa smiles at her before she points her wand at the floor nearest the wall. "Scourgify!" When the spot has cleared up and was clean she makes herself comfortable. "Whenever you're ready," she tells the Gryffindor. (2)
"But… what about the Halloween feast?"
The Black heiress gives her a look. "Way I see it, Mione, we have six more years of Hogwarts. We'll have another chance to enjoy the Halloween Feast. Right now, I just want to focus on you."
Hermione smiles shyly before she retreats into the stall.
Please leave a review and lemme know what you think. Also a note. I think I'll be updating the story once a month - possibly near the beginning of the month. I have up to fifteen chapters right now and I think I can say for sure that this story may cover the entire Hogwart years. So I can't promise I won't leave this story in the shelves. But I can try to warn you if I feel that future updates may be delayed.
Ja ne and have a great summer!
Translations:
1) Point me spell - used to find one's way to a location or person
2) Scourgify - Cleaning spell