In the coming days, Ariel found out that Slytherin had one new Seeker, but she had heard exactly zero homicidal voices.
One of those things would have been reassuring to her but instead, it was making Ariel begin to feel like she really was starting to lose it. She wasn't even quite sure Ron and Hermione would've believed her after she told them what had happened in Snape's classroom if Hermione hadn't seen Dobby for herself. They'd debated most of the night away what or who it might've been, but they'd come up empty handed. In the end, Ariel had tried to put the incident behind her, but it was difficult to write off the feeling that something was wrong.
As for Malfoy, Ariel was quite sick of Slytherins, and it was only two weeks into the school year.
Quidditch teams probably wouldn't have even been on her radar if it hadn't bothered Ron so much. He'd spent all of breakfast ranting about it one morning, as Ariel helped herself to the food he wouldn't. Ron losing his appetite probably should have been more alarming, but Hermione had told Ron she'd put a Mummy-Mouth Hex on him if he talked and ate at the same time.
"He bought his way on," Hermione said for the seventh time that morning. "Everyone knows it, Ron."
"Yeah, well, that doesn't mean they don't have an advantage, with their new bloody brooms." Ron said bitterly. "Fred and George said Flint told them that the Gryffindor teams' belong in a museum."
"But that doesn't mean Malfoy will be any good." Ariel offered, almost laughing at the idea of Malfoy flying face-first into a pole. "I'm probably the last person to be talking about Quidditch, but money can't buy talent."
Ron drummed his fingers against the table. "You're right — it shouldn't matter."
"It doesn't," Ariel agreed.
"But it does!" Ron's fist hit the table — not aggressively, but decisively. Poor Neville practically jumped out of his shoes. "Snape kicked the Gryffindor team off the field this morning so Malfoy could 'practice' — who knows what they'll pull next!"
Ariel glanced at the Slytherin table with a look of disgust. There was a crowd surrounding Malfoy, who was lapping up all the attention in a way that put Lockhart to shame. She rolled her eyes and looked up at the staff table to find Snape sitting directly next to Dumbledore that day. They were talking, though she wouldn't have really known it without watching them closely. They weren't looking at each other but she could see their mouths moving. Snape looked unhappy — then again, he always looked like that.
"If I were him, I certainly wouldn't be bragging about it." Hermione sniffed.
Ariel shrugged, turning her attention back to her friends. "Maybe Lockhart inspired him. Malfoy clearly seems to be loving it."
Hermione pursed her lips but didn't say anything, taking a big swig of her tea instead.
Ariel slipped the coin out of her pocket and rolled it over in her hands. Right now it read Great Hall, but there was no message on the other side. The Tracking Charm on Snape's side didn't work all the time — she probably should have guessed that, but the gesture of comfort had been enough to give her some rest at night. Other than the daily "have you been hearing voices or misbehaving?" message, Ariel hadn't spoken to Snape in some time. He'd told her prior to the school year that it was best in order to avoid answering hard questions, but she was still a little stung by the silence. He'd been in a horrid mood though, the other Houses already lowest in the rankings since he'd been docking points left and right. Their first Potions class, Snape had taken twenty points from Ron for sneezing.
Luckily, she'd been so busy with schoolwork that she hadn't had much time to be sad. Their other professors hadn't wasted any time assigning them boatloads of work – Snape had given them a test their very first class while McGonagall and Flitwick had given them so much reading that Ron had asked Fred and George to show them how to Charm their textbooks to read out loud to them. It hadn't done much good – half the time Ariel and Ron ended up falling asleep while Hermione found it bothersome.
Snape had actually begun to give her back essays, but he wrote comments in the margins, which is something he didn't do for others (Hermione had perused Ariel's several times — Snape never wrote more than the grade on hers). At first it came across like he was just being scathingly picky, until Ariel actually started to read what he wrote instead of calling him a git and cramming her work to the bottom of her rucksack. If Ariel hadn't known better, she might've thought Snape was trying to be helpful, in a maddeningly condescending way.
Ginny walked past them silently then, as though she were a ghost. Ariel and Hermione shared a Knowing Look, which was more serious than just a look, because they'd both known they'd just had the same thought. Ariel wished this phenomenon happened more, specifically during tests.
"Ginny!" Ariel called, scooching over to make a spot. "Come sit with us!"
She almost didn't stop for a moment before she whirled around, fidgeting with her hands like she'd gotten them caught in the cookie jar.
Ariel frowned — this wasn't the Ginny she'd known for almost two years. Ginny was confident and bright and blazing… not nervous and flighty. Her face was pale, the freckles on her face a stark contrast, dark circles underneath her eyes.
"I feel like we haven't seen you," Ariel quickly replaced her concerned expression with a comforting smile. "I don't think your friends are down here yet anyway."
Ginny's face pinched together in confusion. "Friends?"
(Ariel and Hermione exchanged another Look)
"The other girls in your year." Hermione said slowly, her eyes looking Ginny up and down.
"Oh," Ginny mumbled. "I thought you meant —" she shook her head, like she'd walked face-first into a mess of cobwebs and sat down beside Ariel.
Instead of reaching for the food in the middle of the table, she sat there quietly, as though she didn't know what to do next. Ariel and Hermione shared another Look — the strongest yet.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked, a fresh layer of concern on her face.
Ginny blinked a few times before answering. "Yes, I'm fine."
"You should see Madam Pomfrey," Ariel nudged Ron, who nearly spat out his orange juice. "Right, Ron?"
He stopped after wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Yeah, Gin, that's probably not a bad idea… you don't look so good."
"What Ron is trying to say," Ariel rubbed Ginny's arm reassuringly. "is that you look like you're getting sick."
"Maybe I am," Ginny rubbed her eyes — they were a bit red up close. "Maybe she could give me a Pepper-Up potion."
"There's a nasty cold starting to go around." Hermione said, reaching for Ron's glass. "Here, drink some orange juice, it's got loads of vitamin C —"
"No, thanks." Ginny sighed. "I'm really not that hungry."
"You should eat." Ariel said gently. "You've got classes all morning."
"Here," Ron slid over his plate. "Take mine. I've lost my appetite anyways." he sent another dark look over to the Slytherins.
Ariel made sure Ginny started to eat, albeit it was more nibbling, before she went back to her own meal, though she found that she didn't have much of an appetite anymore.
With a great deal of reluctance, Ariel added Ginny to the List of Things That Weren't Right she'd begun putting together, along with evil voices and Dobby the house elf.
Normally, it took at least until after Halloween for Severus to start feeling the results of teaching children, but he had begun to feel it in the form of a migraine only a few weeks into the school year.
Dumbledore hadn't been as perturbed as Severus would have expected about the girl's episode but had expressed concern that the events of last year had some lingering psychological effects. Severus had, however, known that was complete bullshit. The girl had heard something — something murderous, something dark. Dumbledore knew it too. The events of last year only proved that Miss Evans was more prone to whatever darkness reached out for her. Dumbledore had at least acknowledged that the voice, in addition to the kleptomaniac house elf and the girl flying a fucking car to Hogwarts, was impossible to ignore. What it all meant, however, was another matter entirely.
Severus had mused over Dumbledore's lack of a reaction. He'd spent any free time he had going over what the girl had said to him, her fear almost palpable until she'd sucked it all back to hide it from him. Gryffindors were terrible at hiding their emotions, at being able to separate fact from thought. Severus could tell Miss Evans had been trying, though, which is more than he could say for the other little idiots.
When he closed his eyes at night, he saw Quirrell's hands around her throat and heard the pained cries she'd wailed. Their memory cut through him like a carving knife.
She'd been all alone
Never again — it would not happen again. Looking Lily in the eyes — her knowledge that Severus would one day stand there and feel what she had felt a decade ago — had ignited something inside of him he could not shake. If Severus told Dumbledore, he'd spout back some nonsense about love and familial ties, but all it felt like to Severus was terror. It made him feel like he was losing his fucking mind most days.
This was how Severus found himself spending his preparatory period — seated in front of the fireplace in the staff room, pondering what he both could and couldn't do. He had Third Year Ravenclaws after this, and then he would be done for the day. He would have sawed off a limb to dismiss the class and take the remainder of the day to work on the only thing that mattered — protecting Miss Evans.
It had been blissfully empty for about a half hour, until the door swung open, and Minerva and Dumbledore hurried inside. Severus didn't turn to greet them, keeping his head tilted in the direction of the fire with a book in his lap and tried to ignore them as Minerva busied herself with making a cup of tea until he heard the most loathsome of names mentioned: Potter's.
"Well, James could be quite cheeky when he wanted to be." Minerva was saying. Severus could hear a smile in her voice.
Dumbledore chuckled in response. Severus stiffened automatically but kept his head down.
"It does bring up stirrings of certain memories," Dumbledore admitted. Severus could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him, then. It took every ounce of strength he had not to throw something at him. "it wouldn't be surprising — I do recall her father being unable to hold his tongue."
Shut up, you ridiculous old coot —
Minerva continued to busy herself around the kitchenette. Dumbledore asked: "When did he bring this to your attention?"
"A few days ago." Minerva replied, the spoon clinking against the side of her mug. Severus couldn't see her, but she could picture her doing so with an air of disdain. "I disregarded it until Gilderoy came to follow up. He was quite eager to know when he could assign her detention — with him — since he was quite put off by it originally."
The girl had offended Lockhart? Someone had managed to bruise that egregiously oversized ego?
Something swelled within Severus, taking him by surprise. For a brief moment, he thought he was having a heart attack.
"And what did you say?" Dumbledore asked, still sounding as if they were discussing delightful pieces of gossip instead of student discipline.
"I told him I'd deal with it," Minerva said, her tone suddenly cool. "I didn't think anything beyond that was warranted."
"Very well. I would like to hold onto it, in the meantime, just in the unfortunate instance we have another incident like this again."
"Pomona would have it framed; I'd imagine." Minerva said wryly. "She has yet to stop mentioning what he tried to do to the Willow when her back was turned to him."
They putzed about for a few minutes as Severus tried to figure out what the hell they were talking about. Miss Evans hadn't mentioned offending Lockhart in any way, but he was almost shocked to hear that he'd brought it to another staff member's attention. It was out of character, to bring up something that would have questioned his credibility or talent in any way. Although, children were fickle with those matters, they lacked the insight to distinguish true motives. If Lockhart had Minerva assign the detention, Miss Evans would likely believe that it had been her Head of House who had thought offending a professor warranted a detention, not Lockhart. That way, his beloved image wouldn't be harmed.
Miss Evans was smarter than that, though. He'd wanted her detention for the car incident too, and she'd been avoiding him like the plague. The Slytherins laughed about it in the hallways whenever the creep passed by.
The swell that had formed within him surged, rolling into something harder and wilder.
It was as this new thing burrowed that Severus realized it was silent again. Dumbledore, in the meantime, had slowly shuffled over to the other armchair, settling himself against the back comfortably.
"What did she do now?" Severus asked, without moving or opening his eyes.
There was a rustling of paper. Severus swiped it from Dumbledore's outstretched hand and looked it over. It took every ounce of control he had not to start shouting.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?
"What the fuck is this?" Severus forced through grit teeth.
"An entrance exam," Dumbledore's eyes were laughing, but his voice was even. "Gilderoy brought Ariel's to Minerva's attention. He was… a tad offended."
Severus' gaze hardened as he glanced down to the only question the girl had answered. She must have taken a while to write, because her handwriting was much neater than what he was usually given for his essays.
He bit back a smile. "Good."
"This was apparently to test whether or not they'd done their summer reading."
Severus practically threw the paper back at him. "There was no summer reading for Defense — their last professor was murdered. Not that any of the little nitwits are going to learn anything from that buffoon's books."
"There is plenty to be learned from him." Dumbledore's eyes turned hard for a brief moment, sparkling like diamonds, catching the warm light. "I would hope the students, Ariel especially, would learn what not to do or how to be when given a sliver of fame."
Severus' eyes narrowed suspiciously. "That's not all this is about. What aren't you telling me?"
He shifted almost uncomfortably, then, clasping his hands together in his lap. "Minerva expressed… concerns."
He raised an eyebrow. "About?"
"The same concerns she had with you last winter."
Severus recalled that conversation — Dumbledore had only told her after Quirrell was dead that Severus had kept Miss Evans in detention for months for her own protection. She had apologized profusely but Severus had found it difficult to hold a grudge against her for the insinuations and suspicions. It was a slight comfort to know that he was not the only one looking out for that girl's wellbeing.
"She is keenly aware of the spotlight that will be on her." Dumbledore went on, his voice almost a sigh. "As a witch, she worries that the attention will attract more unsavory characters, if you will. It's quite clear Petunia does not care if anything happened to Ariel. As her Head of House, Minerva is the closest thing Ariel will legally have as a parent and the responsibility that entails."
Severus felt his blood pumping through his ears, an itch in his teeth that began to burn his gums. "She is barely twelve —"
"I don't think it is anything to concern ourselves with." Dumbledore said quietly. "If Gilderoy were taking an unhealthy interest in Ariel, I would not keep him employed at this school a second longer."
"Ensure he isn't." Severus snarled. "If I get so much as an inkling of a feeling, he will leave this castle in a body bag."
"His own self infatuation rivals anything else." Dumbledore said, and Severus could tell he was being earnest by the strong decisiveness in his voice. "His interest in Ariel stems from trying to boast his own image. Gilderoy is harmless… aside from the fact that it is abundantly clear she is uncomfortable with it."
He thought of all the ways he could murder Lockhart — poison would be the safest route, but it had been immensely satisfying to crush in Quirrell's skull, watching the light leave his eyes as he took his last miserable breath. He'd never felt that way killing anyone else — not even in the early days of his Death Eaterhood… that was, besides his father. That had been the epitome of satisfaction. He supposed murdering Lockhart would herald the same reaction, but Dumbledore would be unhappy. Poison would be harder to pinpoint… easier to deny…
"How is Ariel, otherwise?" Dumbledore interrupted his scheming with a soft smile. It was a knowing smile; one Severus didn't care for in the slightest.
"I wouldn't know," Severus muttered, massaging his temple forcefully. "She's made no mention of hearing other voices and besides this incident she's been staying out of trouble. I'll give her another week, if that, before she starts wreaking havoc."
"Forgive me," Dumbledore mused, gazing thoughtfully into the fire. "but you don't suspect that Gilderoy might —"
Severus gave a ripping snort.
Whatever Lucius had done — or was doing — Severus was certain it was solely him and it had little to do with the Dark Lord. Lucius would not have met with him and come out unscathed. Severus knew that everyone that had denied him, everyone who had managed to avoid Azkaban, lived in terror of the day the Dark Lord would return. After last years' attempt on the girl's life, they were all on high alert, waiting for his next move. No, whatever Lucius was doing, it was something that would benefit him and him alone. Lockhart being involved was about as lucrative as involving Hagrid.
"I had the same thought." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling in amusement. "Well, I must say, Ariel does have your sense of humor, at the very least."
Severus blinked at him. "I don't have a sense of humor."
He laughed as he stood, giving Severus' shoulder a pat before he left. The room was quiet once again, but something in the distance rung, an unspoken word or phrase Severus couldn't make out. He wondered if that was how the girl felt sometimes. He knew she wanted more from him, wanted him to say more, but he couldn't. That was what Dumbledore had conveniently left out – what happened when Severus could not protect her from himself?
When he looked at Miss Evans, all he could see now were the eyes she'd inherited from him. The darkness that had touched her last year — was searching for her again — made Severus wonder what else she'd inherited.
Was that all he could possibly ever give her? Darkness? Endless, bottomless, the way her eyes stared at him sometimes? Severus remembered how they'd turned gold in Dumbledore's office, the night he'd almost gotten her killed.
You have to do better than that
He would. He would do better than that. He would do it for her – for them – no matter what it took.
Hermione was giving Ariel a look of half-pride, half-bewilderment. It was a wonder Ariel managed to see her around the tower of books she'd accumulated in only twenty minutes. The look of shock might've been because it had somehow broken Hermione's personal record, but Ariel couldn't sit and write a Transfiguration essay when there were more important things to worry about.
"What?" Ariel asked, pretending that she didn't look mental, carrying a stack of books almost as big as her back to their table in the library. "I thought you'd be crying tears of joy by now."
"Not that I'm not immensely proud," Hermione rolled her eyes, quickly recovering. "but this is… a lot."
Ariel shifted her weight, struggling to lift them onto the table before remembering she was a witch in a magic castle with a magic wand and levitated them instead. "This is all I could find on hearing creepy voices; can you believe it?"
Hermione's mouth set in a tight line before she reached forward. "Well, you can put the first three away. I've already read them, and you won't find what you're looking for there."
"Why's that?" Ariel jerked her wand too sharply and the books spilt everywhere, earning a disgruntled look from a group of Ravenclaws who were studying nearby. "Oops."
"I read them last week, nothing useful there. Most of them insinuate you've been Cursed, which you haven't," Hermione gave her a pointed look. "you'd know. And half the curses you can't look up without going to the Restricted Section. Madam Pince wouldn't even let me finish a sentence before saying no."
"Good to know, thanks." Ariel said sarcastically. "So I'm not Cursed, that only leaves about fifty other horrible things it could be."
She was surprised to see Hermione nodding along in agreement, but her eyebrows were furrowed deep in thought. She had a book on house elves out, but this was becoming a regular occurrence. While Ariel was going mad about hearing voices talking about blood and flesh and murder, Hermione was obsessively reading about house elves and their plight – which apparently was a plight, because according to Hermione, they really had no choice but to serve wizarding families. It made Ariel wonder what family Dobby had betrayed… how brave he was, even though he was still terribly annoying for all the grief he'd caused her.
"This one's about Dementors – never heard of those – but this one I think is about waking nightmares," Ariel glanced it over, the cover art something out of a horror movie. "I think."
Hermione opened her mouth but quickly snapped it shut, staring at her with wide eyes. Ariel sat up, alarmed, until she realized that Hermione wasn't looking at her anymore, but behind her at Snape, who had materialized seemingly out of thin air. He wore a scowl that could've made the bindings on the books unravel.
"Oh," Ariel turned in her chair. "hello."
Snape didn't say anything, but he handed her a paper — Ariel knew exactly what was on it, because it was her copy of the stupid pop quiz Lockhart had given them. She'd failed it miserably and hadn't cared very much until now.
"Care to explain this?" he raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the paper in question.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?
Landing this job at Hogwarts, she'd answered. She'd even used bigger handwriting to make it look like she'd written more. The rest of the page was blank. Ron had thought it was absolutely hilarious — she hadn't dared show it to Hermione, who had gotten every single question right.
"Well, he asked for our opinions." Ariel said defensively. "What's wrong with that?"
He frowned. "Your verbiage is a bit pointed."
"Well, I mean, it's true!"
Hermione's head spun back and forth between them as they spoke, looking terribly confused.
Snape gave her a bored sort of look. "Is that all you have to say?"
"You're the one who told me he was a numpty in the first place." she paused. "Don't tell me I'm in trouble for this."
"Not necessarily." he gave her a pointed glare. "Professor McGonagall was thinking of assigning you another detention over it, but luckily, herself and Professor Dumbledore were rather amused."
Hermione shot them both a look of outrage. Ariel breathed a sigh of relief.
Snape swiped the Stupid Test back from her. "If you would like to insult your superiors, you might find a way to do so that doesn't affect your grades."
Ariel almost fell over. "You're telling me you expected me to know all of that?"
"Certainly not," he rolled his eyes. "I would be worried if you did."
Hermione went fuchsia. Ariel wondered if she was breathing.
"Do try not to leave a paper trail next time." The test disintegrated in his hands, little flecks of burning ash floating their way around the table. "It was disappointingly very Gryffindor of you. It would be wise to avoid garnering any attention from him."
"You won't have to worry about that," she muttered. "He hasn't given us an assignment since."
"More time to work on your subpar Potions essays, then," he said flatly.
Ariel's entire body went hot, her temper flaring. "Like Malfoy's subpar Quidditch playing? That's why you kicked the Gryffindor team off the field this morning, isn't it?"
Hermione moaned behind her book, undoubtedly horrified. In her head, Ariel tried to imagine Ron cheering as her gut immediately twisted in regret.
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Are you questioning my actions as Head of House? Perhaps you do need to be assigned detention after all."
She could feel the perfect retort on the tip of her tongue but chewed the inside of her cheek instead, if not for her House point's sake, then for Hermione's.
"No." Ariel forced out.
"No, what?"
Ariel wanted to kick him in the shins. "No, sir."
Snape leaned forward so that his palm laid against the table, his arm blocking Ariel from Hermione's view. When he spoke, his breath tickled her forehead.
"You would do well," he hissed. "to remind yourself that I am not only your professor."
She didn't realize she was gaping at him until he rolled his eyes and began stalking away, his cloak cracking the air behind him as he turned. Stupid bat-looking git —
"His favorite color is lilac, by the way." Ariel practically shouted after him. "In case you were dying to know."
If he was, Snape didn't let on. He was gone as quickly as he had appeared, which was in an alarmingly short amount of time. Ariel wondered how he moved so quickly and quietly at the same time. Maybe he was a vampire… stealth like that wasn't human.
When she turned back to Hermione, she found that she had her face buried in her hands. Ariel scowled at the table, wishing it would burst into flames and take her with it. She tried harder in Potions than any other class – she'd read all of the stupid bloody books Snape had brought her over the summer and brewed Potions illegally in Aunt Petunia's attic and had even told Neville to just let her do everything in class this year when they were partners. Now, Snape thought she was a failure at Potions and Defense.
Hermione peeked up at her through her fingers.
"Don't," Ariel said, holding up a hand. "I know, it was stupid, okay?"
She frowned and sat up. "I wasn't going to say that."
"You were going to say it's not right to be disrespectful to any adult." she paused. "And I wasn't trying to offend Lockhart, I meant it! When Hagrid took me to get my school things last year, he'd told me the professors here were the best of the best —"
"And they are!" Hermione interrupted. "Lockhart's written all those books and traveled all over the world countless times helping people."
"That's all you can say about him!" Ariel said hotly. "All he has are those stupid bloody books — at least Snape actually teaches us what we need to know."
"I just…" Hermione shook her head. "I can't believe you talk to him like that."
Ariel went still. "Like what?"
Hermione hesitated. "So… casually."
"You're acting like it's a bad thing."
She opened and closed her mouth a few times before answering. "I wouldn't say it's bad… just… different, I guess. He doesn't seem any kinder."
Ariel bristled. "Well what's he supposed to act like, then? Is there a guidebook you haven't told me about? Or a how-to manual? Maybe you should start writing snarky comments on his tests!"
Hermione stood up suddenly. "Ariel – no, that came out wrong, I'm sorry!"
She slammed up from the table, leaving the useless books behind.
Ariel wondered if Snape had the same thought about her.
Ariel was still pretty peeved about what Hermione had said (and Snape — mostly Snape — but she wasn't going to admit that) the next day, heading down to breakfast by herself.
She'd overstuffed her rucksack so that she wouldn't have to stop in her dormitory in-between classes, wanting to head back to the library and read the books she'd left behind. Madam Pince was sure to have a few choice words and points docked for just leaving everything out, but Ariel didn't care much about that. She wanted some answers, and she wasn't going to get any from Snape or Lockhart. It was up to her to figure out what was wrong with her head.
Being mad at Hermione meant that when she walked straight into Colin that morning, there was no one there to intervene when the last of Ariel's self-control faltered.
"Hey, Ariel!" he was waving something at her as he rushed towards her, out of breath. "I've been waiting for you – you're later than usual, yeah?"
She didn't even want to begin to know what he was insinuating. "Colin, I don't have time for this today -"
"It'll just be a second!" he was breathless, and distantly, Ariel felt bad until she saw what he was holding. "Look!"
It was a picture of Lockhart trying to drag her into frame. She'd managed to free herself, but he was reaching back out again for her, smiling sheepishly at the camera as she disappeared. It reminded Ariel of a kraken getting hold of a ship and dragging it to its watery doom.
"Will you sign it?" Colin asked, practically shoving it in her face.
"I'll do you one better," Ariel tried to push past him. "I will pay you to burn it."
He looked hurt. "Why would I do that?"
Ariel hesitated before shaking her head. "I don't have time for this, I have to go."
"Wait!" his arm shot out and grabbed her rucksack, pulling her back. "Look, Professor Lockhart's already signed it, I just need yours!"
"I said no, Colin!"
She really shouldn't have been surprised when she saw Malfoy and Pansy turn the corner, Crabbe and Goyle in tow. Before Ariel could turn and high tail it out of there, they'd caught sight of the stupid photograph and the pen Colin was trying to shove in her hand.
"Look at this!" Pansy practically shrieked. "She's signing autographs!"
That managed to distract Colin long enough for Ariel to finally get her rucksack free. She quickly let her wand slide from her sleeve into her palm. The last thing she needed was to get in trouble for dueling – especially with Malfoy – but she could live with Hexing Pansy in the face.
"Should we have everybody line up, then?" Malfoy sneered, crossing his arms as he inspected the scene, his eyes glancing at the stupid photograph. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, after all."
"Shut up, Malfoy." Ariel snapped. "You wish."
"You're just jealous," Colin piped up, but Ariel quickly put herself in between him and Crabbe, who looked like he ate Colin Creeveys as a midnight snack.
"Jealous?" Malfoy laughed coldly. "Of what? Have you looked at yourself, Evans? There's nothing to be jealous of."
"She thinks having a crack in her head makes her special, Draco." Pansy smiled viciously. "Although I don't know anyone who'd want such an ugly scar."
Something roiled inside of her sternum, familiar and old and terrible. She thought of what Lucius had said to her in the bookstore, in front of her friends and all those people – I don't see what all the fuss is about – and how he'd gone to Snape afterwards, laughed and talked like they were old friends. And they had been old friends, still were, apparently. Old friends who talked, old friends who Malfoy undoubtedly overheard which was why he talked about her looks and her scar and her dead parents.
Subpar Potions essays
If this is some kind of farce
You've mentioned nothing of the sort before
She couldn't give them the satisfaction of riling her up. She'd done it last year and it had almost cost Ariel her life.
But she could absolutely rub that in Malfoy's face.
"Careful," Ariel said, trying to keep her voice even. "I almost gave you a pretty nasty scar last year too. Didn't I?"
Malfoy went white for a brief moment before his cheeks began to flush red with anger. "You couldn't even duel me properly." He spat. "You attacked me like some Muggle heathen!"
"Are you saying it wasn't fair?" she smirked. "Last I checked, you could've fought back, but I guess that's what Tweedle-dee and Tweedledumb are for." She jerked her head in Crabbe and Goyle's direction. "Daddy too, I guess."
Malfoy's grey eyes glinted dangerously, his nostrils flaring. Even Pansy's satisfied grin wavered for a moment, shooting Malfoy a hesitant, nervous glance.
"I'd like to know what you mean by that." He said in a deadly low voice.
"It means Ariel doesn't have parents that try to buy her status and talent." Hermione's voice called from behind them, crystal clear and confident. When Ariel turned, she was strutting towards them and made her way to Ariel's side, so close that their elbows bumped together. Ariel grabbed her hand and squeezed it, hard.
Malfoy sent them both a vicious glare. "No wonder the two of you are friends — my father says Evans looks just like her Mudblood mother. That must be the only reason you two get on so well – filth tends to stick, doesn't it?"
Ariel had absolutely no idea what the word Mudblood meant, but it seemed to upset Hermione, who gave a quick little gasp and covered her mouth with her hands. Not wanting to look like an idiot, Ariel leveled her gaze at Malfoy, who took a step back.
Be better
"Thanks," Ariel said coolly. "you couldn't have given a better compliment."
"And in case you forget, Granger," Malfoy shouted as they turned. "Evans doesn't have parents at all."
Ariel laughed, because that simply wasn't true. She even laughed a little harder than she probably should have, because when she turned to look at Malfoy, he was looking at her like she'd lost her mind.
She got stitches in her side when Hermione started to laugh too.