Chapter 28: Heart of Helga
Unedited... Forgive me for any errors.
The woodsmen of the ancient village of Oar's Rest were fabled to be some of the finest gold miners of the world — no one knew how or from where these peasants extracted the gold, but somehow the magical properties that their metals bore remain unmatched to this day. The tiny patch of woods that covered the deep valley in The Bronze Peak Mountains used to be thriving and full of life, often frequented by wizards and witches and goblins and elves from all over the world, just to get their hands on a bit of gold that the villagers sold. And if the old tales were to be believed, it is said that ancient kings and queens from distant lands used THIS very gold to make their finest accessories and jewelry which, then got passed down generations as family 'heirlooms', because the Magic instilled within these objects were ancient and rare and far too powerful for ordinary metals to withstand the test of time. With each passing year, common gold undergoes wear and tear and diminishes in value — except the gold mined in this region.
The woodsmen continued to guard their secret and supplied the world with their 'magic' gold for several centuries, until one day, about six hundred years ago, doom fell upon them when a mad king visited their woods on a dragon's back. Greedy and drunk with power, the old wizard king ambushed them and unleashed his dragon upon the village without warning. The dragon raged on and on till every last brick and and twig crumbled to ash. Eyes glinting in pure delight, the king dismounted the beast and looted the place entirely until not a grain of gold remained.
Over time, the forest emerged once again from the ashes, but the woodsmen never returned and the place remained deserted forever — all except for one tiny hut under a dead tree's trunk that housed a lonesome girl, the last of the woodsmen guardians.
Wylwen Aerloth, daughter of the great Nardstyr Aerloth knew at a very young age that the sedentary life her mother had chosen for her and her seven children in the village beyond the mountains would never appeal to her and hence, the day she turned eighteen, she packed her basket and left for her ancestral home in The Bronze Peak valley. What reached her eyes upon arrival, however, took her breath away because what was once a beautiful old village was now a thicket of trees and bushes, home to a thousand birds — and she never left.
Apart from the occasional visits from her siblings and a lone traveler that came knocking on her door for a cup of tea every once in a while, Wylwen saw no one and continued to live a lonely life, speaking to the birds and practicing her magic in silence. Which was why, when on one chilly morning she heard the distant neighs of several horses whooshing towards her little rundown hut sitting under a dead tree, she nearly had a stroke! Ignoring the shattered cup of tea on the floor, old Wylwen rushed to her window and peered out through the nearly opaque glass and found a large, extremely posh carriage flitting about in the sky led by a trail of four winged-horses.
Her eyes widened in shock. Who could it be visiting this part of the mountains? she thought, fearfully shuffling backwards and toppling her tiny wooden table over. Looking at her reflection in the cracked, decayed mirror, she straightened out her shabby clothes and patted her mangy hair just in time to hear the large chariot screech to a halt followed by the trotting of hooves right outside her door.
"We're here, miss!" a tiny voice squeaked, followed by the sounds of a door opening and the clicking of heels against fine wood. Going by the groan of the wooden steps of the carriage, Wylwen could tell the traveler was pretty overweight.
"Oh, what a rough ride!" huffed a female voice. "Is this it? Are we here?" the voice spoke again. "My word, what a dump! Are you sure the woodsgirl lives here?" she asked again, as if she couldn't believe her eyes.
"Yes, madam, Hokey is sure of it!" squeaked the first voice.
Wylwen had nearly frozen on the spot and didn't dare to move, her eyes fixed permanently on the door.
"Oh, alright then!" huffed the second voice irritatedly. "Be a dear and knock on the door for me, Hokey! I daresay, she's probably dead in there going by the smell of this place!" the voice squealed.
And not a second later, a sharp knock resonated through the walls, slapping her awake once again. As if controlled by an invisible force, Wylwen jumped forwards and flung the door open making the woman and the little elf scream in terror.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin, what is it?" the woman squealed, clutching her tiny purse and to her bosom in complete terror. It took Wylwen a whole minute to wrap her head around the woman's appearance. She was a short, extremely stout woman, dressed in shocking pink overall robes that trailed the forest floor. She wore a pointy purple hat and a matching pair of pointy high heels around her short, stubby legs, and strings and strings of pearls around her nonexistent neck. The heavy makeup that she had on, almost made her look like a Chinese doll and the hair was near inexplicable!
"Who are you? What are you doing here in my cottage?" muttered Wylwen, staring uncertainly at the company.
"Ah, she speaks..." breathed the woman, clutching her head in relief. "Thank Helga! Er... Hello!" she squeaked, adjusting her pearls and curstying clumsily at the same time. "I am Hepzibah Smith, grand virtuoso of the Cladwell fame, Head of House Smith and Lady of Darstall Keep," she announced airily, her nose so high up in the air, Wylwen could actually see the inside of her nostrils! "Now, then, make way!" she squeaked, waving her hand impatiently in her face and ushering her inside her own house. Waltzing in and pulling the only chair that stood in the one-room hut, she sat down bossily and fanned her face with her wand. "Oh, what an odd way to live," she muttered, looking around the damp, dungeon-like walls with pure disgust, even as her tiny elf scurried hurriedly inside to stand beside her mistress. "But, then again, you lot are peasants, I couldn't possibly expect any better, now, could I?" Hepzibah giggled to herself, still fanning her face.
"Why have you come here?" Wylwen asked firmly.
"Ah! Good girl, I don't like small talk either," Hepzibah mused, chewing on the end of her perfectly painted nails. "Alright, darling, to get straight to the point then. I hear your late father was the great chieftain of your clan, yes?" she asked. Wylwen was yet to understand what all this was about but was too terrified to speak up. "Well?" Hepzibah pressed on.
"Yes, that is correct," replied Wylwen. "What about him? How did you know about me?"
"Oh, there's a magical registry for people like you," Hepzibah rolled her eyes, waving her off-handedly. "As to why I am here, though, is I want some information about a very ancient object," she said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "An heirloom that rightfully belongs to ME, you know what I mean? I mean, the Stuarts can contest it as much as they like, but I know my lineage!" she squealed as if making a statement to the Wizengamot themselves. "Anyway," she said quickly recovering and wiping her pink cheeks with a cherry red handkerchief, "I wanted to know if the woodsmen of Oar's Rest were ever responsible for forging any ornaments or accessories for the... you know? The Hufflepuff clan?"
Wylwen blinked. So, that's why she was here... For information. She folded her arms across her chest. "So, you're one of them? You believe in the myths, that the Hidden Kingdoms had indeed been opened, then?"
Hepzibah snorted. "I never doubted in their existence even for a second," she replied. "Everyone who called me loony for believing in the myth are eating their own words now, aren't they? And I know Dumbledore all too well, the old oaf! Always wanted everything for himself, didn't he? Isn't that how he became the greatest wizard of our time, by falsely claiming ownership to any magic even remotely potent in nature? He's not a wizard, he's a scam artist, that's what he is!" she huffed angrily, her large chest heaving and falling from the effort. "But not this time! He might have tricked the Ministry into thinking no such thing even exists, that it was all a falsehood, a fool's imagination, but I know it my BONES that it is, indeed, true and that he DOES have the precious heirlooms in his grasp!"
Wylwen shrugged curiously. "You seem to know everything. I still don't know why you're here, though..."
A wide smile cut her old, round face. "I know just how much the woodsmen of this village prided in their work, they almost rivalled the goblins in gold-making… What I came here for was this: what did the Hufflepuffs get your men to make for them that littered their castles for over a thousand years?" she asked, her eyes glinting hungrily.
Wylwen narrowed her eyes. "You came all the way here just to ask me this? To know WHAT we made for them?" she said, eyeing her suspiciously.
"As a matter of fact, yes, it's important to be able to tell the difference between an 'heirloom' and a useless piece of metal now, isn't it?" Hepzibah nodded, examining her polished nails. "Like I said in the beginning, I am a collector, and these details are very, very important."
Wylwen frowned. "And what would you do with it, if you do find it?" she asked, making Hepzibah's head snap up in surprise. Her face turned a ghastly shade of red at once, almost as if she was blushing furiously. "Surely, your journey all the way up here wasn't just to find the description of an heirloom that could potentially sit on one of your shelves, was it? No one, not even an avid virtuoso would risk coming to this part of the country for mere information."
Heozibah's face turned a bright, boiling scarlet all of a sudden. "My, my, you're a shrewd girl, aren't you?" she giggled, making her whole body wobble now. "Well, if you must know, I intend it to be a gift to someone, someone extremely special," she grinned, staring dreamily out the window. "Ah, I can't WAIT to see the look on his handsome face when I show him what I had got for him! And when I tell him I had to go to HELL and back to find it, the reward I am bound to get…" she trailed off, staring longingly into the distance while unconsciously licking her lips in glee. "He's quite naughty, you know? Has no regards for my gentle body…"
A look of pure disgust creeped up Wylwen's face, as she stood there watching Hepzibah tug at her own robe's collar. WHO in their right mind would ever want to do a painted, giggling potato like her, was beyond her.
"Right, then!" said Hepzibah, snapping back to reality. "I am getting late! Tell me everything you know, I don't have time for any more questions from you!" she huffed bossily.
"I am sorry, but an heirloom MUST remain within the walls of its rightful owners alone," Wylwen began. "The magic of the object could be compromised greatly if it changes hands, so forgive me, but as a proud woodsgirl of this sacred village, I... refuse..." she paused to give it more effect, "to tell you anything about it."
Hepzibah's face fell at once, almost as if she had been deflated by an invisible tube. "Wh-What? No! My dear, please don't say that!" she sputtered, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. "I've traveled all this way to this... this... godforsaken forest because you are my only hope! Nobody else can help me but you!" she pleaded, letting go of her airs for the first time since she arrived. "Besides, aren't I the rightful owner? Do I not have the right to know the whereabouts of my family heirloom? Please, my dear, I beg of you, please don't let me down..." she said desperately.
Wylwen flashed a satisfied smirk. "Now that's more like it," she said, glaring coldly down at her. "Say, I do help you find the heirloom..." she started, watching the old woman welling up with gratitude, "what are you willing to do for me in return...?" she asked, triggering all sorts of emotions in her guest.
The pained expression on Hepzibah's face got replaced by a look of pure evil almost at once. "Why, I didn't tout you to be the smart kind at all, aren't you delightful?" she grinned, finally leveling up with her. Whipping out her wand in a flash, she flicked it casually and conjured up a chair out of broken twigs that littered the floor and gestured at her to take a seat. "Sit, my dear, and let's have a talk," she said, her eyes glimmering in the morning light.
~oO Hogsmeade Village
11th April, 1976
"I can't believe this, Oreyn Fox and Calum Harper? OUR Harper? A Slytherin and a Gryffindor?" squealed Mary, clapping her hands excitedly. "WHEN? HOW? GIVE ME ALL THE DETAILS!" she screamed, making their Ravenclaw friends snigger uncontrollably at her flushed face.
Isabella couldn't blame her for ripping out her vocal chords like that, because the inn of The Three Broomsticks was so mind-numbingly, loud, crowded and rowdy today that, unless two people were having a screaming match, they couldn't possibly communicate with one another at all. The five Gryffindor girls were sat at a large, circular table along with four other of their Ravenclaw classmates.
"Alright, so the story goes like this," Ravyn Brocklehurst, Oreyn's best friend, starts excitedly. "So, it happened on the night of our victory party. You remember that match against Hufflepuff, don't you?" she asked looking in Isabella's direction, who in turn nodded enthusiastically. "Turns out, we were running out of food supplies and the crowd was getting rowdier by the second."
"That's what happens when you invite the Snakes! Serves you lot just right!" Alice shot back with a smirk.
The Ravenclaw girls all rolled their eyes at once.
"Hey! Some of us have friends from there, alright?" sniggered Ravyn. "Anyway, as Prefect and Quidditch Captain who had just championed her team to a glorious win, I demanded that there be more food! STAT!" she giggled, shrugging matter-of-factly.
"Unbelievable..." Lily grinned with a disapproving shake of her head. "You just put your whole House and everything it stands for to shame with that move there, Brocklehurst!"
Ursa MacDougal sniggered from Lily's other side. "She sure did!" she admitted. "Anyway, so Oreyn volunteered to make the trip to the kitchens herself and guess who she runs into —" she paused dramatically, prompting everyone to eagerly lean forwards, "— the Great Calum Harper and his band of hooligans!" she finished, slamming her hand against the table in a very 'I-rest-my-case' sort of way, making several jaws drop to the floor.
"That must have been quite a scene," said Claiborne, chuckling to herself. "One Slytherin bird amongst a pride of Lions, all looking for food at the same time?"
"A deadly combination, I agree!" said Ursa dreamily, clinking her glass with Claiborne's.
"And this was how Calum described the scene to the rest of us in the after-party the same day...!" Ravyn cut in, hardly able to hold back her laugh. "He said, and I quote, 'the boys and I were just nearly done with our eggs and toast,'" she said, screwing up her voice (and her face) to make it sound deep and manly, "when something blonde and cranky shuffled into the kitchen... 'FOOD!' it demanded, imperiously, throwing us all completely off our game!'"
Isabella nearly spat out all the water she had poured into her mouth a second ago. "This is funnier than I expected!" she snorted, snickering uncontrollably.
"Hang on, it gets funnier," guffawed Bluebell Boot from across her.
"Anyway, picture this!" said Ravyn, jumping off her high stool in uncontained excitement. "You know how built and big Benkley, Walker and Mathews are, right? Now imagine these hot pieces of arses," she said, sucking in her stomach and flexing her arms about for emphasis, "cowering and slinking away opposite a petite Fox, sulking and scowling in hunger and waiting for the poor peasants to do Her Highness's bidding!"
"And... And...!" wheezed Ursa, between laughs, "The saddest part of this story, according to Calum, was, 'to watch her stake claim to the bigger egg and the crunchier toast and us simply letting her violate our food like that!'" doing a slightly less impressive imitation of Calum than Ravyn.
"You should probably name the novel, The Lions, The Fox & The Toast," chuckled Mary, making the others with roar with laughter.
"What happened next?" guffawed Alice.
"Well, apparently Calum was the only one slightly less unnerved by the sudden female presence in the kitchens enough to gather as many items as he could get his hands on and present them to her..." Ravyn inhaled theatrically, "in a wicker basket lined with lilies and thymes that he conjured up on the spot especially for her..." she finished, triggering a volley of ooh's, aww's, appreciative nods and claps from her audience.
"Boy's got game," nodded Mary, looking beyond impressed.
"So, what was the clincher?" asked Claiborne, grinning widely.
Ursa sighed longingly. "Well, apparently Fox took one long look at the wicker basket and another longer look at the petrified face of Harper. And just when he thought she might actually whip out her wand and blast his head off, she got up, went up on her tippy toes and kissed him..."
"Awww..." said Isabella before she could stop herself.
"And right before leaving, she whispered a 'you're my hero. Thank you for not flipping out like your friends,' and kissed him one more time before bounding out of there," Ravyn continued dreamily, and most of the girls had slunk into seventh heaven themselves.
"You know, I bet there'd be a wedding announcement," declared Claiborne, downing her butterbeer, "AND SOON."
"I don't even doubt it," agreed Lisa Edgecomb, the other Ravenclaw among them. "It's been raining marriages of late, don't you think? It feels like everyone's suddenly woken up from a deep slumber and decided to marry the first girl that crossed their sight!"
"It sure does seem that way," Ursa admitted, popping a potato chip into her mouth. "But then again, I wouldn't be quick to condemn it... Actually many wizards are rushing to marry just so that they can extend their family wards to their significant other and protect them from the Dark..." she muttered.
"Yeah, I mean," Bluebell started, "people are dropping dead by the hundreds... And for absolutely no rhyme or reason!" she griped. "You're not going to believe this, but multiple Seers from around the world have predicted an outbreak of war by the turn of the decade, you know..." she said, shuddering slightly. "A war big enough to wipe out three quarters of our kind, apparently," she said, plunging them all into a sudden state of doom.
Lily grimaced, taking a large swig of butterbeer herself. "Yeah... I'd marry too if I had a significant other," she said out of the blue. "Ursa is right, none of us, Muggle-Borns, Half-Bloods and blood traitors alike, will be spared when the time comes. I'd rather want to spend every second of my life with him than cower in fear. Well, whatever life I have left that is..." she added as an afterthought, gripping her butterbeer mug tightly.
"And rumours about these 'supposedly' stolen heirlooms only seem to have made it WORSE..." said Lisa. Lily and Isabella exchanged quick glances of terror. "If you ask me, I'd say it is right here, in the castle, right under our noses, you know? I just wish someone would find them all and toss it in the Dark Lord's face and avert this stupid war!"
Lily shakily chewed on a cucumber and avoided everyone's eye.
"And what if it doesn't?" asked Claiborne at once. "What if it makes him stronger? We'd be more in danger then than now."
Claiborne. Bless her.
And just like that, all the merriment of the evening dissipated into thin air, only to get replaced with hopelessness and terror once again.
"Anyway, good talk ladies, but I am yet to decide what I'm wearing tonight, so if you'll excuse me," said Ravyn, pushing her stool back. "Honestly, though, why don't any of our Houses celebrate Founder's Day like the Puffs, eh?" she asked, getting up to her feet and giving each of the Gryffindors a hug. "Also, happy birthday, Williams!" she cooed, giving Isabella an extra tight squeeze.
"And to think she got Hogsmeade and a party on her birthday!" Lily teased, making Isabella gleefully pat the invisible crown on her head in response.
"See you girls on the other side, then!" Bluebell slurred and tipsily trotted after her friends towards the door, dodging incoming traffic of human bodies.
"I think we'd better head back up to the castle too, eh?" offered Alice dropping her share of change for the drinks.
"Yes, let's," said Lily, leaving her change as well and all five girls made their way through the bustling crowd. "I said I'd meet Severus at the Entrance Hall at half past seven and it's half past five already!" she shrieked.
"Remus is feeling under the weather as usual, so I doubt if he'd even make it to the party tonight," said Claiborne. "I nearly planned not to go too, but Peter convinced me otherwise — good heavens, why are you carrying that thing with you everywhere you go, Izzy?" Claiborne asked, glancing at the battered book she was shoving into her handbag.
Isabella shifted uneasily. "Well, I..." she started, "there are so many gripping tales in it that I can't seem to put it down these days!" she stuttered before safely bagging The Rise & Fall Of The Sacred Age. "Did you know that there was once a group of people, wizards, who made far superior quality gold than even the goblins? I'm surprised Hogwarts seems to NOT want to teach us that for some reason... They only teach us what they think we ought to know, eh? I'm telling you, something mighty fishy is going on around us and we don't even realise it!" she said, severely stressing on every syllable, making the others stifle their smirks and exchange exhausted looks with each other. "What?" she said, watching her friends openly withholding their sniggers in complete disbelief. "I'm not crazy!" Isabella pleaded desperately, only this time, the others really burst out laughing. "Oh. Alright then. Laugh away! Bring on the pity eye-rolls as much as you want, but you lot will be eating up your words very soon!" she said, jabbing her finger violently into Lily's shoulder who was now wheezing with uncontrolled laughter. "And just for the record though..."
"Merlin's beard, there's more?" Claiborne choked out, making the others double up more than ever now.
Scoffing haughtily, Isabella rolled her eyes resiliently. "...I just want to put it out there that I totally buy into Xenophillius's theory of us all being embroiled in a MEGA conspiracy championed by the Ministry!" she said, defiantly folded her arms across her chest.
The others, however, seemed to have collectively decided not to contest her opinion and walk on with rolled eyes, stifled smirks and half-snorts.
.
The girls spent the next two and a half hours obsessing over every detail of their outfit, starting with their hair, makeup, heels, robes, bracelets, earrings, choice of hair clips, and the biggest question of the century: to necklace-ify or to de-necklace-ify.
"Okay, you remember all the instructions Dumbledore gave us, don't you, Izzy?" Lily frantically whispered while checking out her reflection in the mirror. In Isabella's opinion, all the girls looked just great, but Lily especially looked stunning today in her glossy-black robes that clung to her body and trailed the floor behind her most elegantly. Isabella especially liked how she had elegantly twisted her hair into a low bun, framing her face perfectly.
"Uh huh," Isabella muttered back. "Straight faces. Remain unperturbed when confronted by a Ministry official. Greet the Minister if she chooses to walk up to you. Minimal interaction amongst the five of us. Blend in as much as possible. And make sure to eat scrumptiously," Isabella recited, having mugged up the instructions to the last letter.
Lily snorted. "Dumbledore does have a sense of humour, though, doesn't he?" she said, wearing her large, gold studs. "Are you nearly ready?" she asked Isabella, who was still debating between the black shimmering drops and the turquoise blue feather earrings. Finally deciding to go with the black ones, she quickly screwed them on and took a look at herself in the mirror: Not bad, Williams, she thought to herself, watching her scoop-neck, bottle green sequined robes glimmering in the candlelight. As a final touch, she slipped on her black elbow-length lace gloves and let her hair down. There. Perfect, she thought, before tearing her eyes off the mirror.
"We ready to go?" she asked, looking at the rest of the girls in the room. Unfortunately, Mary and Alice weren't even half way there and Claiborne looked like she'd bail any second. "What's the matter, Clay?" she asked.
"I dunno, Izzy, it's just... Remus would be all alone when we're down there," she said, looking perplexed. "I just wish I could stay back and watch over him —"
"— Clay, we've been through this," Isabella reasoned with her for the hundredth time that day, "we'll all be circling back to be with him every hour in turns, he'll be just fine!"
"But —"
"— No but's! We're going. End of discussion," Isabella said, ruffling out her pale pink flowy robes and tugging her by the hand.
"Alright, we better get moving, then," announced Lily, grabbing her wand and beckoning at her two best friends. "Don't be too late, you two!" she called out to Mary and Alice and all three of them bounded out of the room.
.
Dim lights from the thousand or so lanterns that hung from the ceiling, the low hum of music, and the absolutely enticing smell of food emanating from the corridor beyond the kitchens instantly brought a festive mood to the castle.
He brushed his hair off his face and glanced up at the giant clock.
"She's ten minutes late. As per usual..." Severus sighed irritably and hotly pocketed his hands in his crisp black robes.
He stood crouching in the cacophonous Entrance Hall teeming with dressed up teens, happily chatting and laughing around him, a look of disgust permanently etched in his features. Making a mental note to fix on a more deserted corridor to meet in the future, he patiently waited for Lily to arrive. In all honesty, ever since the fiasco at Slughorn's party, Severus had grown wary of large gatherings — it terrified him now. He couldn't afford another slip from his end this time, because that could literally end his relationship with his Lily... The thought of something going wrong again tonight had horrified so much that he had endured several nights of sleeplessness leading up to this day...
Just hold your tongue, he reminded himself again and again, afraid of his extremely thin temper these days.
A sudden burst of laughter broke out making him look up and realise the Gryffindors were finally here: trickling down from the floors above were a whole bunch of arrogant prats, and oddly, there was a quality to this lot that automatically drew a sense of raw, unfathomable loathing inside him. His gaze turned into a blood-curdling glare as he watched Black and Potter making a spectacle of themselves and drawing the biggest laughs and claps as per usual.
And just as he was about to look away, his eyes locked with those of James.
"Ooooh! Hey there, Snivelly!" James called out lazily waltzing down the stairs, over enunciating the syllables to (apparently) make it seem more condescending.
Severus merely rolled his eyes and avoided eye-contact.
"Looking fit, aren't we?" James fake-gasped looking him up and down, making the others around him chuckle bemusedly. "Ooh, that ain't right," he drawled urgently, as if Severus had committed a ghastly crime. "Some fixes, perhaps?" he suggested to no one in particular, an act that (for some reason) caused Eudora Bearfist to burst into psychotic giggles from Sirius's side. "Any ideas, Pads?" James asked, turning to his comrade in arms. "I want to help Snivellus go back to his usual grandeur! You know, the one that gets the birds going!" he jeered sarcastically.
Sirius simply grinned, his boyish good looks screaming louder than ever.
"Oh. A shovel would help," Sirius replied with a sickening snort, making the whole hall erupt into laughter.
Severus looked around at the laughing faces, his face contorting with rage at once.
"Now, now, no need to get so violent, Padfoot," James cooed making a disparaging noise.
Severus's hand twitched for his wand.
"Oh, you think that's vile?" asked Sirius, opting to choose an exaggeratedly surprised tone. "Well, what do you have in mind then, Prongsy?" he snarled, looking Severus dead in the eye.
By now, almost the entire hall had turned on them, watching the exchange in a nervous glee.
"You wouldn't dare," Severus said quietly, his hand already gripping the end of his wand.
James inhaled and dramatically clutched at his heart in fake-pain. "Did he...? He did not just...!" he choked, still pretending to have been hit by an invisible arrow. "DID HE JUST OPENLY DARE ME?" he cried out finally, making the whole hall to double up in hysterics once again.
And in just a blink of an eye, before Severus could think, before he could even breathe, James had cried, "Redatum Skullus!" followed by a blinding light that hit him squarely in the face, making him fly backwards and land painfully on his back, his robes fanning out around him like a bat's wing!
For a full three seconds, Severus didn't even know where he was; all he heard was loud laughter and the defeaning pounding of his own heart ringing in his ears. Blood rushed to his face as he realised how he must look to the pointing onlookers this very instant. Quickly shuffling back on his feet, he didn't know what everyone was pointing at and laughing until he realised his face had shrunk to the size of an orange.
"What is this? What's going on? SEV!" someone screamed and burst through the crowd. Severus looked up and saw James and Sirius on their knees and thumping the floor in uncontrollable laughter before Lily came into view. "Merlin's beard, what have they done to you!" she screamed once again before quickly pulling out her wand and muttering the counter-spell.
Severus felt his face painfully twist and churn and writhe until it grew back to its original size even as the crowd went berserk around him... This was humiliation beyond his wildest dreams. He felt absolutely numb with embarrassment enough to not even hear Lily yelling her lungs out at James and Sirius from next to him.
"Lily, stop it," he muttered at last, shaking off the giddiness that had crept up his face, even as he watched Lily smacking James repeatedly on the side, one that he was sure James was enjoying immensely. "Lily! You're not helping!" he roared out at last. "You're a prefect, either give them detention or turn them over to Filch —"
"No, Sev, they're not worth it! Just ignore them," she spat out, stabbing James and Sirius with a glare.
That did it.
Wrenching his hand out of her grip, he ground his teeth in indignance both at the Marauders and at Lily! His brain was ablaze with disbelief at the injustice in Lily's words. 'Ignore them'? THAT'S IT? How the BLOODY hell was he supposed to 'ignore them' when they make it their life's goal to publicly humiliate him like this. Every. Single. Time?
"Leave me alone, Lily!" he muttered. Unfortunately, it came out harsher than he intended, causing her to stiffen in surprise.
A look of shock crossed Lily's eyes.
"What?" Lily asked softly, her large doe-like eyes boring into his.
And his insides melted at once...
In an instant, all the anger burning in his heart got replaced with the deepest of desires for the girl in front of him.
How was it possible for someone to be so perfect? To be so ridiculously beautiful that his heart stopped beating nearly every time he saw her? How was it possible for him to be this affected by her that it moved him to tears to simply have her stand beside him, in this moment, despite how ruthless he had been just a second ago...?
Lily was precious. She was his whole life; a fragile flower made of glass... A tiny slip and she would shatter to pieces right in front of his eyes... How the hell was he going to protect her forever?
Don't be ridiculous. She'd never want to be with a shithead like you... he thought to himself.
It was true, he didn't deserve her. Because, despite the unfathomable, almost inexplicable devotion he felt for her, he had also been a complete arse to her! A loathesome, vile prick who was consumed in his own sorrow and all matters concerning him and him ONLY! And after all this, the fact that had she kept running back to him and loving him with all her heart was miracle enough.
Perhaps if you stopped being so miserable all the time? Perhaps if you just stopped snapping back at her all the damn time...? She might just say yes... Won't she?
Maybe not.
But you love her...
Severus closed his eyes and inhaled slowly to ease the painful lump in his throat. He didn't know what spell she had cast on him, but he was certain he was in too deep now, enough to be thoroughly overwhelmed at the mere thought of it. Why in Grim's name should she so fucking perfect? he thought as he took in her appearance tonight.
"Let's go," Lily said, blinking away her hurt and grabbing hold of his hand, leading him towards the kitchen corridor. Only then did he realise the Entrance Hall had nearly cleared up and that most students were already spilling into the Hufflepuff House's tower at the far end.
Ridden with guilt and kicking himself for having broken his promise to himself before the night had even begun, he let her drag him on to this stupid party. Frankly, he'd rather spend a quiet night with her by the lake than be here...
"I'm sorry," he whispered, bending a little to reach her ear. Lily simply wound her hand tighter around his. "I know," she said, making him sigh in relief as the pair walked down the long, earthy passage with the rest.
Quite unusually, as they walked down the corridor, Severus noticed several girls casting Lily unflattering glares and looks of deepest loathing as if they couldn't believe their eyes. In fact, one Slytherin girl twirled her wand between her fingers so menacingly that Severus almost feared she might jinx her.
"I finally get what 'looks to kill' means," Severus smiled, looking in the general direction of the girls and nodding at Lily.
Lily blushed crimson from the neck up. "You've outdone yourself too, Sev," she said, nodding appreciatively at his sleek black robes.
Watching the back of Potter and Black's heads ahead of them, Severus turned to look at Lily with a bemused expression. "I noticed only two of the Famous Four tonight," he started, watching her carefully. "Where're the others?" he challenged her.
Lily looked up exasperatedly, obviously tired of having this conversation again and again. "Oh, Sev, must you do this every single time? He's unwell as always..."
Severus scoffed at once. "What's his excuse this time? Lily, why are you so hell-bent on brushing aside my theory...?"
"Sev! Not here!" Lily whispered viciously. "Why don't you ever just leave them alone?"
"Oh. THEY can pick on me but I should leave them alone?"
"They pick on you because you never leave them alone!"
Severus opened his mouth to retort. "No! I am NOT doing this right now!" she said decidedly. "Can we please attempt at spending one night not bickering? Or is that too much to ask?" she said, scowling slightly.
Severus sighed. She's right. Lily's had it rough this year, she deserved some peace and quiet. And thankfully, Mucliber and Nott and the rest of the Slytherins boys had staved off her ever since she hexed them all in their very dorms a few weeks ago, so that was some relief. But he knew this respite was but temporary and that Mucliber would DEFINITELY strike again, and soon, but he forced the thought out of his mind and put on a smile...
The passage ended and the pair entered the Hufflepuff abode, a cosy, low-ceilinged circular room, and Severus's breath caught in his throat: it was perhaps one of the nicest Common Rooms he had ever set foot on... A colourful profusion of plants and flowers adorned the wooden circular shelves while copper-bottomed plant holders dangled amid the ceiling causing tendrils of ferns and ivies to brush their hair as they pass under them. More importantly, though, the place itself was covered delightfully in yellow and black banners and every wall had large, floor-to-ceiling portraits of the House's great ancestors, starting with Helga Hufflepuff herself, smiling serenely down at them.
The place, predictably, was packed with delegates and dignitaries from all over the world, everyone merrily sipping wine and chatting about the greatness of the Hufflepuff House. It may have been his imagination, but Severus thought the Hufflepuff crowd themselves seemed rather put off at the fact that their sacred day had been made open to all this year. All said and done, though, it was rather a pleasant sight to see the students donning dress robes hanging about elderly warlocks puffing on their pipes. His eyes also landed on several Aurors who lined the walls and watched the crowd like a hawk while the Minister kindly interacted with the who's-who of the magical world.
Lily's eyes, Severus noticed, were alert and constantly making eye-contact with her friends, Isabella and Claiborne, and all three of them kept shooting the Minister a cautionary look every now and then. And even as Lily took his hand and led him to the middle of the room to join the dozen or so couples in their slow waltz, he saw Dumbledore unmistakably nod at Lily before turning back to the Minister.
"Is everything —?" he started, but was interrupted when a tiny elf scuttled between their legs and held a plate of stuffed mushrooms up her head. "Snacky, miss?" she squeaked.
"Oh, no, thank you very much," Lily replied kindly and the elf bowed low before scampering away. "Everything's alright, Sev, we're just trying to keep a low profile while also driving home the point that the five of us didn't have anything to do with the You-Know-What!" she whispered feverishly.
Severus's jaw dropped, his patience dissipating at once. "Again about this?" he growled. "I thought tonight was going to be us!"
"Us? What do you mean...?" Lily asked distractedly, watching Isabella and Lucius deep in conversation with a pompous old wizard, nearly as tall as Lucius himself. Dumbledore and the Minister were just a few feet away from where they stood.
.
"— the recent troll attacks were indeed brutal," Lucius was saying to Jarleth Hobart, an elderly warlock from Armenia. Isabella took a tiny sip of pumpkin juice and nervously stole another quick glance at the Minister — except her eyes fell straight on the foul Auror Drudalf! Her stomach jolted so much, she thought her bottom fell off entirely.
"The reports said the trolls were quartered and hung from cliffs until their arms fell off," Lucius continued, while slipping a reassuring hand around her waist, almost as if he had sensed something wrong. "It's appalling to see wizard-kind slink to such depths..."
"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken, Mr. Malfoy," Hobart cut in, puffing his pipe. "The trolls had it coming because they were the first to encroach into our settlements —"
Lucius scoffed. "— Surely, warlock, you must know trolls have the intellectual range of a walnut. Is it really fair to hold them responsible for such a heinous act on them?"
Even in her current state of panic attack, she could tell Lucius was steering them into a discussion that consisted solely of kicks and blows by the way Hobart's face constricted in surprise. "My dear boy, there's a reason why they're called 'beasts'," he started, squinting at the pale face of Lucius. "They were, and will always be, meant to serve us. They don't matter. Their lives don't matter!" he stressed, clawing on to Lucius's face, a slight sneer starting to play on his features. "And at NO cost can wizard-blood be spilled for their sake —"
Isabella could feel Lucius's hand ball into a fist. "Er... But, of course you're right, warlock!" Isabella chimed in, flashing a plastic smile. "Such wisdom," she gushed in fake-awe and Lucius's nearly choked on his drink.
"And there's a clever girl!" Hobart nodded approvingly. "What's your name, dear?"
"Oh, I'm Isabella, Isabella Williams," she said, putting her hand out except the wizard had suddenly gone all pale in the face.
"Williams? I er... I... I've never... known of a wizard family with that name... Uh..." he started, his eyes darting frantically between her and Lucius. "Surely you're not a... A Muggle-born?" he asked, glaring at Lucius this time.
"Why, yes, she is," Lucius asserted before Isabella could even open her mouth. "Is there a problem?" He didn't bother with honorifics this time.
The warlock's pupils reduced to mere slits now. "You, dear boy, ought to have been the one with a problem!" he roared, flicking his head in her direction this time, his eyes wide now with incredulity. "To belong to the great house of Malfoy and yet stoop so low as to liaise with a Muggle-born, oh the tragedy!"
Lucius's mouth twitched dangerously, his eyes ablaze with rage.
"It's fine wizards like you that's —!"
"— Pardon me, but I have no interest in hearing the end of that sentence, warlock!" Lucius spat out, his eyes leveling up with the wizard. "And don't bother owling my father, sir, I take pleasure in sharing quite an amicable relationsh..."
Isabella didn't hear the rest of his sentence, because just then, two cold hands had slipped over her bare shoulders, making her jump up a little.
"Izzy, you good here?" she heard Sirius whisper in her ear from the back.
"Yes, all good, keeping an eye on that wench," she whispered back over, nudging her head in the general direction of Bagnold.
Sirius smirked and nodded encouragingly. "Good, good! Just DON'T let your guard down even for a second!"
Isabella stifled a smirk. "Sir, yes, sir!" she replied mockingly, earning a playful death glare from Sirius.
"Don't get cute," he chuckled, wagging a finger at her. "Anyway, Pete's just come down and it's my turn to go back up and keep Remus company. Send word if you need anything, alright? Anything at all!" he added warningly.
Isabella smiled warmly back at him. "Fine..." she grinned, nodding sincerely.
"Great! Oh, and er... Happy birthday again...!" he sang in a low voice grinning widely and giving her shoulders a good squeeze. "Definitely meet me before bed, alright?" he whispered, hurriedly pecking her on the cheek.
"What? Why?" Isabella asked, her face burning slightly now.
Sirius looked at her incredulously. "'Cause I'm not done with you yet, that's why?" he said matter-of-factly. "I need some quality time with the birthday girl, don't you think?" he scoffed, winking teasingly at her. "Anyway, off you go now," he said, kissing the side of her head once again and bounding out of sight before she could even nod her thanks. When she turned back around, however, she realised the old was man gone and Lucius was staring down at her, his eyes oozing with anguish and sympathy at the same time. "Sorry about that," he muttered jerking his head. "I hope you're not offended —"
"— Mr. Pettigrew, there you are!" they heard someone say loudly, making both of them whirl around. And sure enough, to Isabella's utter horror, Bagnold had spotted Peter already. "My Auror tells me that the last time he saw you, you were covered in exploding boils, is that true?" she asked crisply, her perfectly lined brow disappearing into her bangs.
"Er... Yes, ma'am, that will be correct," Peter stuttered, practically shaking on the spot.
"Must've been quite the recovery," Bagnold shook her head lightly. "Are you all well now, Mr. Pettigrew?"
Dumbledore chuckled from his side. "Well, he sure does look in perfect health to me."
"Why, of course," she mused sarcastically, and even from this distance, Isabella could tell Peter was about ready to pee his pants. "Remind me to pay Poppy a visit before the night ends, Albus, I'd very much like to have her expertise in my ranks!" Bagnold was saying, her eyes scanning the room for signs Madam Pomfrey. "It's not everyday that you come across miracle-workers now, do you?"
There was something about Bagnold's tone that sent raw chills up Isabella's spine.
"Why do you say so, Millicent?" Dumbledore asked, still sporting a deathly calm smile.
Bagnold's eyes finally fell on Isabella and instantly latched on to her gaze. Smiling devilishly, she said, "Because only one plant is ever known to affect wizards in such a manner and that plant is, but a myth today," she said, never breaking eye-contact. What made Isabella's blood run cold, however, was the faltering smile on Dumbledore's face.
What was happening? Why did he look so disturbed all of a sudden? Isabella thought to herself, her breathing getting shorter and shorter by the second.
"Would you care to join us, Miss Williams?" Bagnold said, smiling triumphantly.
Isabella wasn't sure if her head even moved when she nodded and broke away from Lucius towards the company.
"Why, good evening, Minister!" Isabella said, shakily putting her hand out.
"Nice of you to join us, Miss Williams," Bagnold said, still holding her in a cold stare. "D'you remember where Mr. Pettigrew acquired those stings? I believe you were with him when it happened, were you not?" she asked, her voice dripping with blatant mockery.
And as dire it was for Isabella to ooze with confidence and smear Bagnold's annoying questions back into her face, she was ironically not even listening... Because something else had caught her eye beyond Bagnold's shoulder that made the blood drain out of her face entirely... Her mouth went dry and her body froze up in complete and utter shock...
She was staring at it and yet, she wasn't sure if this was happening for real... Was she imagining it? Was her mind playing tricks with her? Could it be the lighting...? Are her eyes deceiving her...?
"Miss Williams!" Bagnold's voice ripped through her, knocking her out of breath completely!
"Oh! Er... No! Sorry, I-I don't... I wasn't... Y-I don't know how... He..." she stammered and looked around at the bewildered expressions on the onlookers' faces. An odd pounding rang in her ears as full-blown panic took over.
This can't be happening...
"I-I'm sorry, could you please excuse me?" she stuttered, and before the little company could even grasp what she had said, Isabella turned on the spot and hurtled out of there, pushing past dancing bodies, leaving Peter, Dumbledore, Bagnold and Drudalf staring after her in complete shock.
She didn't care. She had to leave that place at once! She couldn't stand there for a second longer...
This can't be happening! It couldn't! HOW could I have been so blind?! What on earth does any of this mean?
Isabella was so thoroughly and utterly freaked out of her bones, she couldn't even feel her legs anymore.
Merlin's beard, does this mean we could get sent to Akzakan?
She bolted out of the door and ran down the length of the corridor not stopping until she reached the deserted Entrance Hall. Heaving and panting, she held her waist and leaned against the balustrade for support, her mind still racing. And somehow, it all made sense now... Everything was finally falling into place, finally making sense, and yet, what she was unable to fathom, what stung her the most was the betrayal...
How could he have done this to them? she thought bitterly to herself.
Suddenly, the sound of loud footsteps hurtling towards her rang through the corridor walls, shaking her out of her reverie.
"Izzy, WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?" shrieked Lily, looking alarmed out of her wits, just as several more heads belonging to Lucius, Claiborne, Peter and Severus appeared behind her, all looking equally appalled. "We were supposed to lay LOW, not run berserk —!"
But Isabella wasn't listening. She looked up and looked straight at Peter, still panting.
"Bella, what in the world's going on?" Lucius muttered balefully, but she remained unstirred.
Pushing past Lucius, she walked towards Peter, boring a hole into his skull.
"Izzy, answer him!" yelled Lily from the side. "This was NOT what we'd discussed at all! Merlin's beard, d'you have ANY idea what this might translate to with Bagnold, we could be toast?" Lily hissed hysterically, but Isabella didn't say anything — she was too overwhelmed to even panic about the situation right now.
"Izzy..." Claiborne started, but cut in mid-sentence instantly.
"I'd like a word alone with Peter, everyone," Isabella whispered.
She had no idea from where she was getting the strength to remain this calm despite the recent harrowing revelations...
Claiborne frowned and Lily looked taken aback at that.
"Izzy, what...?"
"Lily, please."
Everyone froze, even as Isabella and Peter continued to stare at each other, exchanging a million unsaid words.
Claiborne looked fearfully between Isabella and Peter.
"Izzy... Peter, what... What's going on?" she asked. She had never him look this mortified in her whole life.
"Give us a minute?" he muttered, looking expectantly at the flabbergasted faces of his friends.
Exchanging extremely worried looks with eahc other, the three of them reluctantly turned and left, slipping into the Great Hall and out of earshot, plunging Isabella and Peter into absolute bone-crushing silence.
"Izzy..."
"You took it," she cut him, her shivers returning. "You stole it..."
"Izzy, please let me explain..."
"You lied to us, Peter!" she cried, trembling in fury now. "You lied to our faces, to your best friends!" she hissed.
"Izzy, it's not how it looks..."
"You have Hufflepuff's heirloom! You went down there all alone, you found it and you decided to LIE to us about it!" she spat out, her eyes welling up, unsure why she felt so much hurt. "You lied to Dumbledore, you lied to all of us, Peter, how could you?"
"I... I... Izzy, I... I'm sorry, I..."
"D'you've ANY idea how petrified we were when you came back looking like a green goblin?" she cried, slapping his hands away. "And to think the five of us risked our lives down there trying to find these darned objects and you go and LIE TO US ABOUT THIS, HOW COULD YOU, PETER!"
"Izzy, please, for the love of Merlin, please just listen to me!" he cried.
"Peter do you REALISE the depth of what you've done?! Bagnold is in there trying to sniff out the truth out of us, imagine what would happen if this cup slipped into the wrong hands?! We could be given The Kiss, Peter, DID YOU THINK OF THAT AT ALL?!" she yelled, hitting him hard on his hand.
The two of them fell silent, breathing hard. She couldn't believe Peter turned out to be such a knobhead of EPIC proportions!
After what felt like forever, Peter looked up again. "How... How d'you find out...?" he asked at long last.
Isabella gave him a death glare. She mutely raised her hand and pointed at the banner right behind him: there, hanging from the ceiling was a tapestry portraying the life-size painting of a kindly woman with golden blonde hair, holding a tiny gold cup with an embossed badger on it.