The work is planned to be heavy and contain many scenes of violence and school bullying.
All characters will be pretty dark.
Also, there is no happy ending in the usual sense.
The work contains an original female character.
"We thought you weren't coming back!"
Hermione hugged May tightly, making her bones almost crack.
"Hush, hush,"
She hugged her tightly in back and said, looking at Harry.
"I didn't think they would let me go. They guarded me the way Gringotts are not guarded, probably.
"Is it true that you didn't want to go back to school? Harry asked, smiling at her. He and May met eyes, hesitated for a second and she looked away and reluctantly answered
"I talked about it with Professor Dumbledore ... Then I talked about it with Moody…Well, as far as it is possible to talk about such things with him, but the Order obviously breathed a sigh of relief that I decided to come back and start the school year like everyone else".
"With Moody?" Ron asked in surprise, which made Hermione barely restrain herself from snorting: something like a sigh came out.
"We know everything about you and him" Harry could only say.
"And they talked a lot about what happened in the Department of Secrets with us. May, if you think that my opinion will somehow change about you, then no" He confidently shook his head "We are friends. We've been friends since the first year and nothing can change it, even him".
"Did you think that after everything we went through last year and before, you would just get rid of us so easily?"
Ron asked again as they walked down to the Great Hall for dinner. May was terribly hungry due to nerves before the upcoming meeting with friends and she refused to eat Mrs. Weasley 's lunch, convincing her that she was absolutely not hungry and would have time for dinner at school. May was all on nerves that tingles her back and fingertips with a nasty chill. She was afraid that they would never become friends again and would not be like before.
The fifth year in general turned out to be a real test for May. Firstly, it was Umbridge, who arranged abnormal surveillance of students, encouraging bullying that made staying at school almost unbearable, Harry's accusations of lying, Cedric's death, which weighed heavily on the whole school, and the Hufflepuffs were sure Harry just made it up because he supposedly lacked fame. Secondly, it was a hard fight with the Death eaters in the Ministry of Magic where Harry lost the most important person in his life — Sirius.
It was the first time May had seen death with her own eyes, and even though she knew how to kill an unforgivable spell, it was only then that she realized what Harry meant when he said that this green flash would never be forgotten if May happened to see it one day.
May was not allowed to rush after the Bellatrix who had strange and scary fun — Harry was already ahead of her — Lupin caught May, literally squeezing her so hard in his hands that it resembled a vice and threw May into the hands of Mr. Weasley, and he dived into the fireplace with May. May remembered that night as if it had happened just a couple of hours ago, as if every moment was like a movie in slow motion gently rolling before her eyes, where the frames replaced each other. The green lawn in front of the Weasley family's house, the grass wet from the rain and the ground on which May fell, resting on one knee and soiling her jeans in the mud. May was in a panic, not understanding why she was separated from her friends and Mrs. Weasley, who silently, but with a face full of horror, grabbed May by the arms and led her into a warm, baking-smelling house.
May didn't understand what was going on: she sat pinned down by Kingsley Shacklebolt's words, unable to say a word, as if all the bitterness, indignation and fear were stuck deep in her throat, and every new feeling that covered Mae's body and mind like an avalanche was like small hot needles prick her. She was silent. She was silent, even when Kingsley had nothing to say, and he was just waiting her reaction like everyone else. May didn't know what to say: a heavy oppressive feeling instantly settled in her chest, squeezing her throat with a ruthless and firm hand, which made it difficult to breathe, and her eyes moistened.
"May..."
Mrs. Weasley called softly, but May didn't react, clutching a mug of hot tea that Mrs. Weasley had served before talking to Kingsley.
"Sirius... Sirius is dead. Bellatrix killed him."
The words came out hard, went tight as if from a barrel.
"What happened at the Ministry—" Kingsley began, but May continued in a hoarse voice.:
"Sirius is dead. Sirius was killed by Bellatrix.
"May, it's not your fault"
It was everything he could say, looking into her face, and May strenuously shifted her gaze from the fireplace to the clock, on which all the Weasleys were visible.
"So… Why has no one told me for so many years that Voldemort is my father?! Why did everyone know about it and keep quiet? Why was Dumbledore keep silence? He loves so much to let Harry into all the secrets even those which could killing him. Why did he decided to keep this secret from me? What is he afraid of? Why didn't you bother to tell me this "wonderful" news for so many years, and now you have chosen the most inappropriate place and time?"
May's questions were asked nervously, jerkily, rolling like kernels.
"After all, that's why you pulled me out, right? Were you afraid that I would see my daddy for the first time in my life today?"
May grimaced at word "daddy" like she was punched in stomach.
"No one knew what his plan was" Grated Moody behind their backs, which made May jump in surprise, turning sharply at him. His eye was spinning wildly in its socket, and the rumble of the prosthesis carried throughout the first floor of the house.
"Yeah, also tell me that today he didn't send his henchmen for a prophecy and Harry and even he came himself"
May quipped, without taking her eyes off the Aurors, which earned her a hard look and Moody finally plopped into a chair, reached into the lining of his robes and took out a flask. He quickly took a sip from it and grimaced.
"Firewhisky. Molly, would you be so kind as to bring a tincture of star anise, son of the bitch Fenrir Greyback has catch me» And, noticing the horror on Mrs. Weasley's face, he added: "It was a spell, not the teeth"
Mrs. Weasley disappeared into the kitchen, where she could be heard rattling something metallic. Moody stared intently into May 's eyes and grated:
"He didn't just come for the Potter boy. He knew that you wouldn't leave your friends and would also be in the Ministry. He wanted to kill two birds with one stone.
"And you mean you didn't know?" May chuckled.
"Yes,"
Kingsley replied calmly and quietly, sinking down on the sofa.
" Helping someone is a game that can be played by two people, and sometimes even a whole team. All this year you have been under strict control not only of us, but of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He ordered his informers to watch you, to clear the way for you if necessary, and when Professor Umbridge began to run the school and arrange cruel punishments for students, which I was aware of, then by some incredible coincidence you were bypassed by the fate of other students. At first, we thought it was a coincidence, but an action repeated dozens of times can no longer be a coincidence or just luck. No one knows if there was any specific order…""
"It was" Croaked Moody, dripping on the wound with a tincture of star anise and refusing the bandages that Mrs. Weasley had brought him in advance. She wanted to offer tea to everyone, but Moody refused, and she sat down next to Kingsley, pursing her lips in displeasure and watching the drops of tincture heal the wounds on Moody's palm.
"It's not known for sure…"
Kingsley replied, to which Moody grinned and replied.
"Well, you may not know for sure, but I know that the order could not have been more precise. Not a single hair should have fallen from May Lawson's head. That's why hag Umbridge didn't dare touch her. I don't know how they did it, but no one dared to touch her"
Alostor pointed a finger at May.
"Why? Why does he need me?"
May asked.
"No one knows"
Kingsley answered for Moody.
" No one knows why he needed you at the Ministry besides Mr. Potter. If you haven't noticed, none of the Death Eaters even tried to get close to her"
"And... And what should I do?" May asked with a sigh: she was still waiting for the moment when she would be alone, without showing any emotions that could be regarded as beginning hysteria.
"Nothing" said Moody peremptorily. "Your task is to sit quietly like you don't know anything. Do not to write letters to Potter, as well as Granger and Weasley. You can be sure that the Death Eaters will want to say hello".
"You can go upstairs, there's a bed waiting for you, if you don't have any more questions,"
Mrs. Weasley said quietly, to which May thanked her, but she wasn't going to leave. Irritation was rising inside: Kingsley and Moody stubbornly withheld important details, maintaining a strange unanimity, and May's attempts to get more information were treated with general phrases, and Alostor, unable to stand it, muttered something inarticulate, but clearly not flattering, which earned Mrs. Weasley's withering gaze.
"What's wrong with Ron? Will he come for the holidays?"
May tried to get the conversation back on track again, to which Moody grimaced again, and Kingsley asked not to worry.
When May was left alone, wrapped in a warm blanket, she gave herself a slack for the first time. Tears flowed in an endless stream, and she muffled her sobs with a pillow, laying it on her face and pressing into it every time she wanted to scream. The scream, frozen in her throat, was noiselessly absorbed by the pillow, and May squeezed it until her fingers hurt, trying to expel all the pain, resentment and bitterness through tears. In front of her eyes stood Sirius, whose face had acquired a strange serenity after Bellatrix's spell: he staggered a little and, as if in slow motion, softly went limp on the floor. The red flash… It was Harry using Cruciatus on Bella, but she only rushed off into the corridors with a mad laugh, teasing him with a nasty, mocking "baby" word.
The days flew by unnoticed for May, changing night and day as in a very stupid and monochrome kaleidoscope, where there should be colored pictures, but instead of them only slowly rotating identical spheres. She couldn't eat, drink, or sleep: the delicious, carefully prepared food made her sick just by looking at her plate, and May managed to hate her own reflection in the mirror. Sometimes it seemed to her that she saw his face: it looked with a squint and a grin, cold empty eyes, as if testing her. She couldn't even bring herself to get out of bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling, watching the sunset flashes coming through the window dance on the dark wooden ceiling. May stayed in the Weasley house for no more than a week, and after Lupin, who tried to talk to her, but was stopped by Moody, apparated with her straight to 12 Grimmauld Place.
Instead of a green field outside the window, fresh grass and air, Mei now looked at the square, on which strange figures sometimes appeared and in which she tried to guess the Death Eaters. Moving into Sirius' house didn't make things any easier. She almost did not leave the room, also could not sleep and refused almost any food without feeling hungry. From within, she was devoured by a gluttonous beast, crossed with guilt, eating a hole in her every day, whispering like a snake that she was evil, since she was born from evil. Mei was sick of seeing her own face in the mirror, so she took it off in the bathroom, unable to see the one she hated with all her heart that caused so much pain. She did not know if she would return to school, because no one mentioned the beginning of the school year for her, although the calendar smoothly passed September 5th.
Three weeks after the start of the school year, when her condition and her anxiety attacks became unbearable for all the inhabitants of the house, who tried to somehow talk May or convince her to eat normally, Dumbledore appeared. It was a long and difficult conversation, and sometimes May got mad at him, sensing him trying to evade a direct answer by saying something completely unintelligible, but reassuring. May didn't want words that were encouraging and sugary-sweet like marshmallows, but only the truth that she tried to collect bit by bit from the Order of the Phoenix.
"Your friends are waiting and dreaming of seeing you again," he said softly, to which May breathed out nervously:
"Indeed? After Sirius' death, I think they have another feeling."
"Sirius Black was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange," he said calmly.
"I… You don't understand, I am…"
"I understand." he said softly: " I understand what you think and feel, but, May, you take responsibility for all his committed crimes and are ready to bear them on yourself as if they were always a part of you, when how to be his child is not crime. You have done nothing wrong, and you are not evil."
"Yeah. I'm just a very large part of him. God, we even look alike almost like two drops of water!"
"Harry is also a part of him and they are also very similar, especially in their destinies," the professor replied calmly: "And it's not easy for him too. Your friends believe and hope to see you again and hug you. Do not deny them this desire."
The conversation came out crumpled and about nothing, and May was not satisfied with the answers: like all members of the Order, Dumbledore missed an important part, and May strongly doubted that he could not know something. The conversation did not make her feel better, but at night, suffering from insomnia, she decided that even if the professor embellishes the attitude of her friends towards her, she should still look them in the eye and explain herself, even if it would be difficult.
Returning to school, she, with difficulty turning her legs from nerves, went up to the Gryffindor floor, noticing a familiar trio at the window. Hermione was the first to notice her, broke into a wide smile and rushed to meet her, which made May a little taken aback, preparing herself for a different reaction. She did not expect that the professor would be right, and the guys were really waiting for her, hoping to talk to her and discuss what had happened.
The great hall was full of students: dinner had already been served fifteen minutes ago, and therefore the cutlery was ringing on plates, glasses were filled with pumpkin juice, and hundreds of voices were carried to the ceiling, their buzzing resembled a swarm of bees. May cast a quick glance at the Slytherin table, where Draco was sitting discontentedly, surrounded by his invariable retinue: for a moment their eyes met, and May, without blinking, looked into his eyes, because it seemed to her that they were so close, as if two more tables of other faculties did not separate them. For a second it seemed to her that Draco's face was scared, but the next minute he made a grimace, and May only snorted, barely restraining herself from an obscene gesture.
"He's trying to be braver than he really is," Hermione remarked in an undertone as they sat down in their seats and started dinner.
"Do you think so? I think he's an asshole, as usual," May shrugged, biting off a chicken leg.
"Watch your mouth, young lady," Nearly Headless Nick said from behind. "You shouldn't swear in front of younger classmates."
"I'm sorry," May muttered with her full mouth and, turning to Hermione, clarified, "So you think these aren't Draco Malfoy's standard settings?"
"I bet it is not!" Ron answered for Hermione: "His dad is in Azkaban, his mom is shaking over him like crazy, and he shies away from his own shadow. To be honest, I've never seen anything like it."
"Ginny heard from Padma, and Padma heard from Alicia - also a Ravenclaw girl who is friends with a Slytherin girl - that Draco had become really bad," Hermione added, "Not that I felt sorry for him, but Alicia somehow thought he was crying... She was passing by the ladies' room on the fourth floor and could have sworn that she heard Draco Malfoy's voice and his sobs."
"So, the fourth floor is sort of Myrtle's fiefdom?" May didn't understand anything, literally swallowing mashed potatoes. For many weeks, the lack of appetite made itself felt. She wanted something else to eat, but her stomach was rumbling with pain, not hunger.
"So what?" Harry didn't understand.
"If it was Draco, Myrtle would have shared it with you," May couldn't help giggling.
Harry just rolled his eyes and didn't respond to the friendly giggles.
"Myrtle has feelings for everyone she meets," he said dryly, and May just smiled and added:
"Given the circle of people who passed the information, I doubt that Malfoy is suffering. It's unpleasant for him, of course, but I don't see any suffering on his face."
"Well, considering the conversations he was having on the train..." Harry began, and before he could finish, Ron and Hermione rolled their eyes almost simultaneously with a groan.
"Again..."
"What again" May didn't 't understand and Hermione explained:
"Harry thinks that Malfoy is a Death Eater and that he was sent to school by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I think he wouldn't trust Malfoy with anything important."
"Why?" Harry couldn't stand it: "How can you be so sure that Malfoy wasn't entrusted with anything? You saw for yourself what happened in the Borgin and Burkes."
"And what was there?" May asked, sipping pumpkin juice from a goblet: "I'm sorry, but I'm out of context: for these months, since last May, no one has really talked to me about anything outside Grimmauld Place. Everyone thought that my gentle mental health would simply not stand it, and I would commit suicide or something. Well… At least, I don't know what the Order thought about me".
May chuckled at these words, grimacing a little.
In an instant, all three of them were quiet, looking at her warily, which made May turn her surprised gaze to each in turn, gesturing for them to say something, rather than silently looking at her as if these words had turned her into a Basilisk. The first to find something to say was Hermione, who lowered her voice a little and said cautiously, leaning closer to May:
"We… We have also been trying to talk to the Order all these months, and we wanted to send you letters, but we were forbidden to do so, just like you. Lupin said that the Death Eaters literally spent nights and days in Grimmauld Place, and he saw Dolokhov and Bellatrix! They appeared every Tuesday and Thursday! Can you imagine that he sent these two to guard you?"
"Lupin said they definitely weren't going to catch you, because one day Kingsley wouldn't be able to apparate properly and ended up not on the doorstep of the house, but in the middle of the square and the Death Eaters didn't touch him! It looked like they were guarding Grimmauld Place or something... For the first time in two years, it was so safe for me to move around the street alone," Harry grinned: "I suddenly felt that I could go wherever I wanted and not worry at all that I would be attacked or ambushed. In an instant, you were probably better guarded than Gringots."
"The Order was crazy for it," Ron nodded in agreement: "Of course, Harry was not left without protection, but everybody has cared about you. Dad said they did it because the Order doesn't know what to do with you and, most importantly, what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will do."
"They also didn't know what you could do to yourself," Hermione said softly, hiding her gaze.: "Tonks said you were scary to look at and… And she heard you crying almost every night and mumbling in your sleep about Sirius and his death, you hung up all the mirrors in the room and… And you were lying like a dead man, just staring into the ceiling."
May barely refrained from wincing: until someone else described her condition, she didn't even think about how terrible everything looked from the outside, because all this time she was locked in her own thoughts, which she stretched in her head like sticky caramel. She was sure that her condition was no different from the previous one: she strenuously hid all her fears from the Order, allowing herself to say only something ordinary that would be understandable to them and not cause any unnecessary questions, but only after Hermione's words she suddenly realized that her acting abilities left much to be desired and The Order saw how every day the inner pain was tearing her apart from the inside.
"What... "May cleared her throat: "Was it that bad? I would never have a thought."
"Are you still trying to pretend to be strong?" Harry guessed with a slight grin: "Do you think that you have hidden your thoughts so well and no one will found out what is happening with you really?"
"Harry!" Hermione shushed him, which he just waved off:
"What? Can you tell me she doesn't look like a dead man right now? Look at her! She looks like she died yesterday and rose again to come and apologize for something that wasn't her fault. Of course, she would, be sure!"
"Was there any other way to express it?" Hermione couldn't stand it, giving him an irritated look and, turning to May, gently took her hand: "Harry wanted to say that you look… Unhealthy. You've lost a lot of weight, you're haggard, your uniform hangs on you like a sack, and it's scary to look into your eyes because they're empty. The Order was afraid that you would not stand it and kill yourself. They were guarding you not just as some unexpected artifact, as you might think, they were watching for your mental health and were very worried that one day you would not wake up. Tonks was on duty at your door every night."
"So that's who was poking around there," May tried to joke, but when faced with serious looks, she realized that the joke was inappropriate
"Why did you get that into your head at all?" Ron suddenly asked, "Why did you decide that you needed to take all his sins on yourself? He probably didn't give a shit that he didn't find you at the ministry".
"Ron!"
"What?"
"It's all right," May nodded, seeing Hermione glaring at Ron's freckled face: "I do not know why the Order did not allow him to see me. They probably decided he was too much... Too unusual for such news. As for your question, well, you know, it's not every day that you get such news and it's not every day that you discover that the wizard whom the whole magic world afraid of and hates is your father. What would you do?"
"I'd probably yell at everyone and demand an explanation," he shrugged, without thinking twice.
"Well, let's get back to the main thing: what is there on the Borgin and Burkes?"
May brought up this topic again when they, well-fed, were going up to the Gryffindor floor, not hurrying anywhere, while Hermione was carefully looking at the junior courses. May also found out about the appointment of her and Ron as heads of the faculty when they walked away from the table, May was surprised that the role of the second head of the faculty was assigned to Ron, not Harry. May did not voice this thought out loud, deciding that it's already quite enough fame for famous Harry Potter right now.
"Hey, come on, don't you dare say that curse!" Ron growled in her ear, noticing how one of the second years tried to cast a spell that caused Ron to vomit slugs in Hagrid's hut in his second year.
"Bloody hell! Every year they become more unbearable."
"You were the same and it is your first day as a Faculty Boy," Hermione chuckled, and Harry said, making his way through the dense crowd:
"We didn't see it, of course, but Malfoy and his mother were buying something there."
"Well? Maybe they wanted to buy something for the house," May shrugged.
"In a shop full of dark magic? Yep, don't hold your breath," Ron shook his head in disbelief: "And after the arrest, as my mother said, the Malfoys kept a low profile. Besides, Diagon Alley, which, after the news of the return of You-Know-Who, seems extinct. People are afraid. Disappearances have become more frequent, as it was before."
"And that's why you decided that Malfoy is a Death Eater?" May asked Harry as they reached Gryffindor Tower, passing a group of the first years.
"You don't believe that either?" he muttered with displeasure, to which May vaguely shrugged her shoulders:
"You see, Malfoy is a cowardly ferret. I don't believe that he can be, well, like Dolokhov, for example, or like his aunt. Bellatrix and he are not on the same level"
"Yes, but then what is he afraid of? Why is he almost crawling on the walls, just so that he won't be noticed?" Harry insisted as they settled into a dark corner of the common room, watching the fifth-year students begin their second game of Gobstones.
"Hmm, even if he was entrusted with something, I don't think it's something super important," May shrugged: "Most likely, Vold…"
"Don't say his name!" Ron shushed her, which attracted several looks at once: "What?"
"This is probably some kind of punishment," May finished her thought.
"Punishment?" Hermione repeated and added: "That sounds logical. His father was guilty, why not punish him by entrusting Malfoy with some kind of case?"
"Just what kind of case is this? I doubt he needs to go to the Forbidden Forest and bring unicorn blood," Harry said sarcastically.
"You know, I'd like to sleep," May said, "I don't know how to do all the homework. No one has sent me anything in these three weeks, and it will be difficult."
"Don't worry," said Ron lazily, "You're choosing your own classes this year. Harry and I have defense against the dark arts, transfiguration, spells, and herbology with potions.
"Do you attend potions' class? "May asked in amazement: "What about Snape?"
Snape is now a defense against the dark arts teacher," Harry made a grimace, which earned May another surprised look. "Potions are taught by a new professor — his name is Slughorn. He was once a professor at the school, then retired, and this year Dumbledore brought him back to school. Now it's more pleasant to go to potions than to defense"
"That sounds crazy. This role is cursed."
"Well, you know, if Snape suddenly gets sick, then I won't suffer," Harry grinned.
"So, okay, is there anything else that will surprise me just as much as Snape is DAAD teacher?" May asked, to which Hermione, after a little hesitation, replied:
"Since this year, starting from the fifth year, an elective in duels has been introduced. Under the supervision of teachers, we will attend classes every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. You don't have to go to this elective if you don't want to."
"Oh, wow..." May could only draw out, smiling dreamily, to which Hermione giggled and added:
"But I don't know anything about whether the ban on dueling with you was lifted after that incident in the second year."
"Oh, well, when was it!" May shook her head: "Yes, and a lot of things happened to Lockhart in class. Just remember how this genius released pixies and left us to deal with them. A hole in the ceiling was not the biggest problem of our second year."
"Yeah, and you decided to keep silent about the fact that the hole was three stories high?" Hermione giggled again, and the guys supported her with smiles: "And when Lockhart signed you and Ernie up as duelists, then your usual Bombard was thrown him into the opposite wall?"
"I didn't mean to," May shrugged and yawned. "I think I'll definitely enjoy this elective. Okay, I'm going to bed. "
May retired to the girls' room, noting how pleasant the perfume smells and the faint smell of incense is in the air. Her things were stacked in an even pile on the bed under the red canopy, which she did not expect to see after the events of May. Pulling off her uniform, which had become too big for her, she padded into the bathroom, where, standing under the shower, she involuntarily critically examined herself: the rib bones were noticeably protruding, covered with skin, and her face was haggard and gray.
"Harry's right, it looks like I died yesterday."
Hot water ran down her dark hair, which Mei wrung out by wrapping it in a bath towel, and wrapped herself in a bathrobe, feeling her body become heavier than usual from eating. In forty minutes, she managed to unpack her things, study the schedule, put her textbooks in a bag and dry her hair with a spell, braiding it into a braid. The dream fell on May with an unfamiliar bulk, crushing her with its weight, because of which she almost instantly fell into blackness.
At breakfast, when May was spreading strawberry jam on toast, Hermione asked:
"What classes have you decided to attend?"
"The standard list" she pushed the schedule to her:" I think that this is a starter kit for becoming Aurora."
"Yes, that's right," Hermione nodded, looking at May's schedule: "Oh, you've decided to take an optional dueling course. It will be interesting to see Professor McGonagall's face."
"I want to see it for myself," May giggled: "Well, what about potions? Is this Slughorn less pain in ass than Snape?"
"He likes to pick his favorites and run around with them like dog with a bone," Ron explained, "But he is not like Snape. He doesn't care which faculty you're from, but if you're one of his favorites, be prepared to attend his fancy parties."
"Parties?" May asked in surprise, sipping her coffee, and Harry just sighed heavily:
"He's clinging to me like a pincer and he's not going to let go. In fact, when Dumbledore convinced him to come back, he had the foresight to take me with him. Slughorn loves all kinds of famous wizards and wanted me to be in his "collection". And these evenings are something like a small party for… Special ones, or what?
"Wow, how much enthusiasm," May grinned:" Well, let's check out what kind of collector this is. We have our first lesson with him."
It was traditionally cold in the dungeons, and students were already crowding at the doors, snuggling closer to each other, trying to keep warm. Their eyes met Draco's again, and now she could see what had seemed fleeting and unworthy of attention to her last night. Draco hastily averted his eyes, clearly struggling to focus on what Pansy was chirping in his ear.
"He knows."
The thought that flashed through her mind, like lightning, pierced her muscles, and May involuntarily shuddered. He didn't just hypothetically know what had happened, and May was sure he knew exactly what had happened firsthand. The corners of her mouth twitched involuntarily: for a moment she felt uncomfortable, and Harry's obsession that Draco was a Death Eater was less and less like a conspiracy theory.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Harry asked in a whisper, to which May only shook her head, pretending that she hadn't guessed anything.
Professor Slughorn turned out to be a short, plump man in his forties, whose thick figure was covered in a purple robe made of obviously expensive fabric: his face, compared to Snape's sharp face, resembling a bird of prey, was soft, loose and, as it seemed to May, relaxed. He looked at the students in a friendly way and greeted them, letting them into the classroom.
"Oh, I see we have someone new in class?' he remarked, gazing intently at May's face, studying it in a way that somehow made her uneasy. She could only watch as people, meeting Harry for the first time, looked out for the scar on his forehead.
"What's your name, miss?"
"May Lawsen, sir," May replied politely, trying to force a smile, but it turned out, as it seemed to her, badly. The gaze was too intense and Slughorn himself looked as if he was trying hard to remember something. Finally, unable to stand it, he said in a soft tone, clearly trying to please:
"You remind me a lot of someone, Miss Lawsen. It looks like one of my students... You have a very familiar face.
"One of the students?"
He laughed, and May just smiled strangely, trying to answer as calmly as possible:
"No, Professor, it's unlikely: my parents are both muggle born."
"Really?" he asked, moving closer and not taking his eyes off May's face: "Your face… Ah, however, it doesn't matter, I think it won't affect our lesson today in any way. The topic of the lesson is Amortentia. What else is it called?"
May's hand shot up into the air half a second before Hermione's.
"Please, Miss Lawsen," he waved his hand.
"Love potion."
"Well, what are the consequences of using it?" he asked in an inviting tone, to which May replied:
"Amortentia causes a strong attachment to the object to which it was directed, but it is important to remember that the love potion is unable to cause love, it is just an imitation, more like an obsession. When its effect passes, the object of love, having recovered, is more likely to reject the person who prepared such a potion."
"Great, but how to distinguish it from hundreds of others?"
"The potion has a mother—of-pearl luster and spirals swirling around the cauldron," May waved towards the boiling cauldron on the professor's desk.
"Great! Ten points to Gryffindor. Yes, Amortentia is a love potion that can't cause love, and is is probably one of the most dangerous potions in this room. What else is Amortentia different?"
This time May decided to give way to Hermione, and she cleared her throat slightly and said:
"The potion smells different for everyone, depending on the object of love. It's too individual: for me it smells like freshly cut grass, parchment and…"
"Splendid!" Slughorn replied with satisfaction and, turning sharply on his heels, said: "Today we will brew truth serum with you. Yes, my predecessor was not eager to introduce this into the course, but my students will always know the difference between this and Amortentia. To anyone who prepares a decent-looking truth serum, I will allow you to reduce your homework by two scrolls."
A buzz swept through the class: there was a rather strong desire to shorten the task for themselves, because the teachers were just going crazy, managing to set a huge number of homework assignments in three weeks.
"You need to pick out the little feathers," Harry suddenly suggested quietly, watching May reach for the big feather in the basket.
"Why? The textbook says…
"Yes, only in my textbook someone smart left a bunch of notes in the margins, that's why potions turn out better that everyone else brews" he boasted, and May, looking at him in surprise, chose the smallest blue feathers and said softly, moving closer to Harry:
"Are you cheating?"
She smiled.
"You know, it's not often that I get high grades in potions. Snape has never been so generous to me, and thanks to this book, I can scrape together a decent grade."
"But you don't remember what's in there, do you?" May asked, to which Harry only grinned.:
"I would just like to get a better grade, it's important to become an Auror."
"But this book won't be with you forever," May said, to which he grinned:
"You sound just like Hermione."
"If I spoke like Hermione, I would demand to show this book to the professors immediately, because there can be something dangerous in there" May giggled, to which Harry also smiled.
May spent the rest of the lesson unable to shake the feeling that Slughorn had not accidentally walked past her and Harry's table many times, looking into the bowlers and trying to find in May's face who she looked so much like. Involuntarily, Dumbledore's words came to mind that she was almost an exact copy of her father in his youth, which made her even more uncomfortable: May could not accept this, could not see her reflection anywhere, and Slughorn's behavior only irritated her, immediately raising the question of what he taught her father during school years?
"Are you fine?"
Ron clarified when they got out of the cold dungeon and were basking in the sun in the school yard, waiting for the spells to begin.
"Yes. Just..." She paused. "Only now Slughorn was looking so intently. I wouldn't be surprised if he knew Vold…"
"Don't say his name!"
"Okay, okay" May waved her hands: "I wouldn't be surprised if he knew him."
"If you compare the years when Slughorn was a teacher and when he was a student, he would have been his student, probably" said Harry, "Slughorn seemed to stick to our table. Is it still bothering at you?"
"Yes" May said with a sigh: "It's eating me up from the inside. And it gnaws at me that everyone who teaches here remembers him. All these years they have looked at a familiar face and remained silent, so it also torments me."
"Is it gnawing at you that they were silent, or that you are you are similar in appearance?" Ron asked, squinting against the bright sun.
"The fact that we are similar bothers me more. If we are similar in appearance, then what if we are similar in other ways?"
"Don't talk nonsense, May, I've known you for six years! But there is also a plus: Malfoy wet himself at the sight of you and didn't say a word during the whole lesson. Usually no one can shut this ferret's mouth up and when he talks, there's a feeling that a ton of shit has been poured on you," Ron grinned. "I was too brave yesterday."
"Mr. Weasley, ladies are with you," Nick's reproachful tone was heard, to which Ron muttered something about apologies under the gaze of the ghost.
"Look who is morality police," Ron muttered as they hurried to transfiguration, and May just smiled. Ron's words made the situation a little more pleasant, but at the same time still unbearable.
In this year Professor McGonagall doesn't spare them at all. She gave a huge homework which made them groan and even Hermione who was used to do tons of homework look worried about all the stuff they have to do due to Thursday. Then before the end of the lesson, they had to turn a huge raccoon locked in a spacious cage into a wine glass. It turned out with varying success: the glass was not transparent, but dark like the fur of a raccoon. May poked her wand impotently, watching as the raccoon shrinks for a moment and then, swaying slightly, a wine glass with dark spots on the glass appears in its place.
"So far, Miss Granger and Miss Lawson have the best result, at least they managed to turn a raccoon into a glass," the professor said dryly, watching the torments of the students. Seamus Finnigan was trying so hard so he managed to turn the raccoon not into a glass, but into a huge beer mug, which is why the professor, although she praised him, did not count the attempt.
"But I did it!" Seamus responded resentfully to which the professor only sternly looked at him with a cool look from under half-glasses and he fell silent, deciding not to argue with the professor.
"Stupid raccoon!" Ron muttered, unsuccessfully trying to turn at least something out of the raccoon, but the animal only fingered the fruit at the bottom of the cage with his paws.
"Correct wand movements, Mr. Weasley, are the key to success." McGonagall said, watching Ron almost wave his wand like a flag. Ron didn't answer anything, just muttered something inarticulate and sat down heavily next to Harry, who decided to give up trying and not torment the animal in the cage.
"Shit! If you and Hermione didn't work out, what can we say about us!" Ron exclaimed angrily as he rolled out of the transfiguration room, led by the crowd in a disgusting mood.
"Speak for yourself, Ron, we almost did it which is not perfect, but means something, besides in this year transfiguration classes will be really difficult than it was in the las year" said Hermione gloomy when they hurry along with everyone to a lunch, hearing how schools clock strikes the noon.
"Oh, it bloody well spotted"
"God… How can I sort thing out?" she asked with worry in her voice.
"What are you talking about?" asked Harry.
"I am talking about homework. We have already had the tons of it! And I still have runes!"
"Why on the Erath you need runes? How will this affect becoming an Aurora?"
"The runes, Ronald, are an ancient science based on logic and mathematics," Hermione replied grumpily, "And logic is still necessary for any Auroras, even if he is perfect in spells."
May just giggled as she watched Ron roll his eyes, and Harry barely managed not to burst out laughing.
"Hi, Ron," a thin female voice said from behind all four of them. Lavender Brown floated by, smiling charmingly at Ron, which made him involuntarily freeze and follow her with an uncomprehending look and, turning around at Harry in confusion, he only could ask:
"What was it? Why did she say hello to me?"
"I don't know" he shrugged his shoulders and May barely managed not to burst out laughing.
"What? " They both looked at her uncomprehendingly, and May just smiled and sat down between Ginny and Hermione, who irritably opened the textbook on runes, causing the pumpkin juice in the cups to tremble.
"Hermione, what are you doing? "Harry didn't understand, watching his friend who was a foul mood and Ginny gently touched May's leg with her hip.
"Is your brother always like this?" May whispered in her ear, causing her to chuckle, and whispered back:
"He grew up among boys, he doesn't understand. The concept is too complicated for now. But you'd better keep quiet, let him found out."
"What are you whispering about?"
"We're discussing girly things," May waved off, and Ginny smiled and said:
"Nice to see you, May," and then she looked at Harry and said: "Recruitment to the Quidditch team is on this Saturday. There's such a crowd there – it's just awful!"
"I'll be there," Harry nodded: "This year I'm the captain of the team, where can I go."
"Do you already know about the duel club?" Ginny asked May, to which May nodded, taking up the broccoli cream soup.
"Are you having fun there?"
"Yes, indeed!" She chuckled: "I can't wait to be paired with Parkinson's… Can't want to see this bitch face after I will beat her!"
"I see you, kids, are having a true fun in there" May chuckled.
As long as the weather allowed, May wanted to stay under the warm sun longer, bask under it until the rainy season starts again. The sun warmed their backs warmly as they descended to the greenhouses, a soft breeze blew from the east, slightly cool, but still warm enough not to shiver from the cold. The smell of the approaching slushy and rainy autumn wafted from the ground, and the Forbidden Forest groaned in a thousand ways, and its crowns pressed against the high blue sky. This year, few people chose herbology, and therefore the greenhouses were spacious and quite quiet, except for the stirring of some plants in pots and the quiet creaking of mandrakes.
"Listen, you still haven't told us why you taught Neville duels separately," Harry remarked at length, when they were trying to extract juice from a poisonous tentacula that kept trying to grab them from behind and strangle them.
"Is it that important?" May asked, and noticing that the petal of the plant was already wrapped around her ankle, she exclaimed: "Diffindo!
In an instant, the leg was released and the sprout returned back to the tub.
"You refused to join Dumbledore's Squad and you sisn't say a word about teaching Neville" he remarked, to which May only sighed and replied:
"I didn't refuse to join the Squad. I refused duels. The duel club is now under the supervision of teachers and for sure all security measures will be observed there. In the Rescue Room, of course, there were pillows on which you could fall and not break your bones, but it was not so safe for you. You know, I have a ban on dueling."
"It doesn't sound like a solid reason" noticed Ron and May just shook her head:
"What do you think is solid enough?" May asked, to which all three looked at her expressively and she sighed and said:
"I promised Neville I wouldn't talk to anyone else about this, you know? It wasn't just duels, to be honest, he didn't need it at all, you saw for yourself what he can do. We talked about everything. About him, about his family, about what happened to his parents, about Bellatrix…"
At these words, May lowered her voice, which caused her friends to move closer to her, watching so that Neville, struggling with the tentacula in the opposite corner of the greenhouse, did not suddenly decide to unexpectedly come to them and did not hear their conversation.
"He didn't need duels, as I said," she continued, waving off the particularly clever parts of the plant with a spell: "He needed confidence, and for someone to listen to him. He really wants to prove to his grandmother that he is worth something, that he is worthy of his parents and when he faced with his worst enemy, he will not back down. Then at the Ministry – it was his revenge, a chance to prove that he is not an insecure Neville Longbottom, who is being bullied by everyone, but a real wizard. He saw his enemy, you know? She looked into Harry 's eyes and continued: "How did you feel when you came face to face with your enemy, when he became touchable and real?"
"It was fear," Harry said softly, and added, "Then hate. Because of Cedric."
"Neville has two "Cedrics" and they are lying in St. Mungo's Hospital with the consciousness of a five years old. Do you remember how we met him there when Mr. Weasley got there after being bitten by a snake?
They nodded small and quickly, and May continued, easily waving her wand and beating off tentacula's next intentions to strangle her:
"We talked about that, too. Neville, as you understand, is ashamed of his parents, and I convinced him that he has absolutely nothing to be ashamed of because they are heroes."
They were silent for a moment, and then May continued in an undertone:
"Just imagine how he came to me after your first class. He hesitated for a long time in the aisle, it was in the library, not even daring to come to my desk. It took me patience and some effort to get him to come, and then he began to ask me to help. I was amazed, because he had you, Harry! My reputation with duels is not the best because in the best scenario, Hogwarts would have been left without part of the wall, and in the worst case, I could have crippled Neville. And I'm a mediocre teacher because I've never used spells in practice, but he asked. I didn't understand why he needed it so much for a long time, and then, when our first lesson was over, I asked him to explain everything, and he did. We talked for two whole hours. He needed someone who is not the famous Harry Potter, and someone who would teach him to hold a wand in his hands properly, so he would not be ashamed and later he would be ready to meet face to face with Bellatrix…
"Why didn't he say that?!" Hermione whispered in amazement: "We would never…"
"I know," May nodded, "I know, and he didn't understand it, even though he knew. Shame prevented him from asking you for help. First, he trained with me, and then he came to you. You probably wondered why he was learning so fast," the last one was addressed to Harry, and he just nodded and added embarrassedly:
"I thought I was such a great teacher, and you did your best."
"He is a fast learner, but he just lacks self–confidence and... Diffindo!" the spell went down Harry's neck, where the tentacles of the plant were reaching, and immediately it went limp. "He needs time."
The rest of the lesson they tried to get juice from the tentacula, which came out only a couple of drops from the stem, and when the jars with her poison were tightly sealed, the sun had already passed the zenith and the greenhouse was not just warm, but stuffy, which made May feel her back sweating. The air instantly made her feel better and she breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't like greenhouses from the very first year, because from lack of oxygen, her head immediately began to spin and a sickening lump rolled up to her throat. For the same reason, Snape's dungeons – cold and dark – seemed to her the best place to study, if she had to choose between the dungeons and a greenhouse. The afternoon was set aside for self-study and under the joint sighs of Ron and Harry, she followed Hermione to the library, telling them that she would love try out Fred and George's new inventions, but there was such a big pile of homework that she would sort it out until the end of the semester, if she doesn't start right now. Ron tried to convince her that one of the best students in the faculty should not worry about this, but May only grinned at this statement and followed Hermione, reminding him that she was clearly not the best student here, and she only achieved her grades with titanic efforts.
May loved to study. She realized this in her first year, when a huge amount of magical knowledge has become her everyday life. May's parents were Muggles, so none of them could even think about magic, and they took the news about the magic school no more than a joke. At the same time, Professor McGonagall had to step in, who in August appeared on the doorstep of their house in the suburbs of London, meticulously explaining to the discouraged Lawsons what Hogwarts is. The parents did not immediately, but still came to terms with the idea that their daughter would spend a whole year in this strange school, and for all their friends explained May would do to the boarding school in abroad. May recalled how her mother was worried that she quitted figure skating and would no longer be able to participate in novice competitions all over the UK.
For May, going to a mysterious school, getting her first wand and going to her first spell lesson were in the distant past and were nothing more than an exciting adventure. After six difficult years, these memories were something distant and almost unreal. Now she was sitting among a pile of books, strenuously writing a huge essay on transfiguration by ten inches. Studying distracted her from depressing thoughts, from which she could not get rid of in any way because her brain gave a nasty gum from memories of the Ministry, her father and Dumbledore.
In the late afternoon, when there were more undergraduates in the library, poring over their assignments, May slammed the textbook and, looking at her hand watch, realized that the elective on duels was about to begin. She didn't want to miss it, at least because she dreamed of seeing the faces of Flitwick and McGonagall, who were eliminating the consequences of her duel in the second year, and therefore May rushed at full speed to the fourth floor of the east wing of the castle, almost jumping over the steps. The spacious hall was already crowded with students, and May, being sure that she slipped in unnoticed, immediately heard McGonagall's stern voice:
"Miss Lawsen, I don't remember that the ban on dueling with you was lifted."
May spun around on her heels and said in a pleading tone:
"But, professor, I can't help coming here, and besides, it will help a lot when passing exams next year and this year too."
She saw the hesitation on the professor's face, but after a second, she pursed her lips and said reluctantly:
"I assume that you will be careful, otherwise I will entrust the restoration of the school to you personally."
"Of course!" May nodded briskly, walking away to the guys and giving them a big smile.
"I thought they were going to get you out of here," Hermione said softly, smiling at her.
May didn't answer anything, just shrugged her shoulders, glad that the professor didn't forbid her to participate, but she couldn't help but feel her attentive gaze. The first duel was between a skinny and tall Slytherin and a chubby Hufflepuff who only circled like boxers in the ring, not daring to hit harder. Both professors prudently outlined a small area with a transparent wall that repelled attacks if the duelists suddenly missed. The students stuck to her in a heap, afraid to miss every move.
"Well, come on, cast on him something already!" Someone from the crowd shouted, goading and the professor issued a warning. As Ginny managed to enlighten May, there are three warnings and a bloodthirsty person is kicked out of the audience.
The guy from Hufflepuff froze for a second and at that moment the Slytherin guy hit him with a spell, causing him to smacked against the transparent wall without having time to put up a shield. The Slytherin crowd cheered when the rest of crowd rolled the roar of condemnation. The trick was not dirty at all, Hufflepuff 's guy hesitated, but May could so acutely and clearly feel the tension and rivalry between the faculties, and the Slytherins got especially hard, because the other three faculties united against them. May did not expect that the Gryffindors would simply push her into an improvised ring and she crossed the transparent line with one movement, realizing that she would not be able to go back. Without even having time to turn imploringly at the professor, who at that moment was stopping a fist fight between Ravenclaw and Slytherin, she only managed to give a quick glance at the friends when Malfoy was opposite May. There was fear in his eyes. They stared at each other in silence for a couple of seconds, and then May automatically reached for her wand, bowed to Draco, as it was necessary at the beginning of the duel, and, after counting to three, abruptly turned on her heels, exposing a shield on which red lightning floated from Malfoy's blow. She realized almost immediately that Malfoy did not expect such a rush from himself, but it was also clear that he did not intend to give up. May honed almost brought to automatism over the past year movement made a light pass with her hand:
"Depulso!"
The spell went off in a shockwave, almost knocking Malfoy off his feet, causing the crowd to roar in delight.
"Sectumsepra!"
A bright red flash vibrated as it hit the shield, and Mei turned around sharply, moving to the left with light steps, saying softly:
"Aresto momentum."
In an instant, Draco slowed down and May, having calculated from the movement of the wand that the next spell would not be the most pleasant, said:
"Alarte Askendare!"
Malfoy was thrown a few meters up and he, not having time to group in the air from surprise, almost fall flat on the floor, hitting his knee and barely restraining himself from howling in pain. May was sure that his knee was broken.
"Bombardo!" He roared.
"Protego!"
The spell was absorbed by the shield and May screamed:
"Duro!"
Malfoy froze like an idol in an absurdly broken pose, and at that moment Professor McGonagall, having made her way through the excited crowd, stopped the duel, because of which the crowd only roared with displeasure, and someone even whistled accusingly, but the professor, throwing a quick glance at crowd, forced to calm down.
"That's all! Mister Malfoy and Miss Lawsen showed us a good duel, but that's enough!"
The Gryffindors enthusiastically greeted May, tapping her on the shoulder and trying to touch her, while May broke into a happy smile, although she understood that it was a little dishonest with the slow spell, which she admitted to the guys, to which Ron and Harry only brushed it off:
"May, it's Malfoy. He would have thrown something unforgiving in your back if he could."
May couldn't argue with that, because they were right. Malfoy was afraid and angry, and it was felt during the duel, and he also terribly wanted to take revenge on at least one of them. If Harry had come out against him, the duel would have been dirty and bloody. Whispering to Hermione that she was about to take the textbooks to the Tower and return, Mae left the hall and headed for their wing, frozen halfway, watching a lake of warm water spill down the corridor.
"Wow!" she could only whistle, looking at the sea spilling over the floor: "Myrtle is in the middle of her mental breakdown again."
Raising the hem of her robes, she walked forward, hoping she wouldn't fill her boots with water before she reached the girls' bathroom, noting along the way that neither Filch nor his cat was in sight at all. Usually, if the corridors were flooded by someone once again, Filch appeared first, cursing dirtily and mumbling something under his breath about obnoxious children and terrible punishments for them. The door to the toilet was wide open, and there was a rustle of water, open from all the taps, gleaming metal in the dark.
"Myrtle?" May called softly, listening over the sound of the water for sobs from one of the stalls.
No one answered her and, turning off the water, she walked around the imposing washbasin in a circle, turning on the light on a wand and examining the flooded toilet. It was a moonless night, so May couldn't see much of anything. The door of one of the stalls was open, and May came closer, noticing a dark little object on the cistern that she would recognize from a thousand. At the sight of him, her heart began to beat faster, and May cautiously moved closer to it. On the cistern lay Tom Riddle's diary exactly as she remembered it before Harry had stabbed it with the Basilisk's fang. It lay completely untouched in a clean cover without a single drop of water or damage, as if someone had forgotten it there in a hurry.
"What the hell…" was all May whispered, reaching out to diary, but her fingers frozen within an inch of its clean cover. "It's impossible. Did someone come up with an ingenious plan to dump me the diary, rather than Ginny?"
She furtively turned around, leaning out of the booth and listening to the hanging silence. No one was heard in the corridor, only the torches burned steadily, reflected in the water.
"Probably, I'll regret it later and it would be worth calling the professor" she said under her breath: "but it will be later."
She picked up the diary, noticing the softness of the leather cover. Her heart fluttered as if Voldemort himself should jump out on her now from the next stall, but in response there was an oppressive silence. She turned it over in her hands, making sure that there was not even a scratch on it, and then, opened it in the middle, and in the next moment the world spun before her eyes and, without having time to gasp, she landed near to the pumpkin bed, watching the twilight gently fall on school.