On the train platform, Ariadne looked around for the tell-tale platinum heads of Lucius or Narcissa, but she saw nothing of the sort. Down to her right, however, something small and gray entered her periphery, jumping up and down. Ariadne smiled in recognition and began to walk over.
"Mimsy!" She greeted, dropping down to hug the little elf. "What are you doing here? Not that I'm not glad to see you, of course."
"Mimsy was sent to pick up Miss!" Mimsy replied excitedly. "Mistress has been very busy preparing for the holiday!"
Mimsy Apparated Ariadne to the manor directly from the platform, which she'd been unaware was even possible. She was pretty sure Lucius and Narcissa couldn't do it, at least, or else they certainly would have before. When they entered the foyer, Ariadne took a second to both breathe through the nausea of the Apparation as well as lament her return to the manor. Greeted by the cold, black wooden floors and unwelcomingly high marble ceilings, Ariadne couldn't be certain that the pit in her stomach was from the Apparation alone.
Mimsy tugged Ariadne's hand, breaking her out of her reverie. "Mistress Malfoy told Mimsy to take Miss to the dressing room."
"Wait just a moment, Mimsy. First, where's Dobby?" Ariadne had not forgotten the mission that she had come here on, but was dismayed when Mimsy looked down, tears welling in her eyes.
"Dobby was a bad elf, Miss. Mimsy does not know where he is, only that he has been gone. A bad elf! Bad, bad!" Mimsy began to shake, and Ariadne placed a soothing hand on her shoulder. "Please, Miss. Let Mimsy take you to Mistress Malfoy, so Mimsy is not punished."
Ariadne nodded. "It's okay, Mimsy. I'll find him. Take me to Narcissa for now." She would play her part, dutiful and sweet.
Mimsy led Ariadne up to the north end of the north wing of the house, to Narcissa's private suite, which was connected to Lucius' private suite by a rooftop terrace. Though Ariadne was pretty sure that Lucius and Narcissa did love each other (she really couldn't be certain), it did seem that the aristocracy liked to have their space. It wasn't like her mom had shared a bed with anyone (that she knew of, gross) for her to compare their relationship.
Mimsy took Ariadne around the back and into an ornate dressing room, around the size of a good sized flat. Rather than walls, Narcissa had mirrors so that she could see herself from every possible angle. At the very center of the room stood Narcissa with her arms out by her side atop a small platform. A woman kneeled at Narcissa's feet, a tape measurer levitating in the air between them.
Mimsy poofed away with a crack, and the noise attracted Narcissa's attention. She turned to face Ariadne with a small smile.
"How nice of you to join, darling. Come, I'm almost done with my fitting. Sit and tell me about Hogwarts until it's your turn."
"My turn?" Ariadne questioned, moving over to a flat black ottoman in front of Narcissa. "Hello, Muffy," she greeted to the woman fitting Narcissa, remembering her from Diagon Alley. She was as thin and as frozen-faced as before, though the tops of her cheekbones were now unnaturally full relative to her size. Was there a wizarding equivalent to plastic surgery? Ariadne thought back to some of the muggle mums at her primary school whose foreheads couldn't form even the slightest wrinkle. Those mothers always sneered at her own in envy. At only nineteen when Ariadne was born, Selena was younger than some of the other mums by decades and as such, had quite a bit of trouble making friends. That, among other reasons.
Muffy looked surprised to have been remembered. "Lady Black!" She exclaimed, completely unaware of the effect that the moniker had on Ariadne. "Lovely to see you again."
Narcissa laughed (as much as she was prone to, which was to say not very much) at Ariadne's expression before letting out a nostalgic sigh. "Lady Black…" she repeated. "I remember those days."
"Lady Black?" Ariadne echoed, feeling rather stupid. Narcissa smiled down at her fondly.
"Yes, darling. You're the Heir of the House of Black, after all. For now, it's a courtesy more than anything else. You won't officially be Lady Black until you reach majority at seventeen, when we'll hold your debutante so that you can join society properly and take up your mantle officially. And then find an eligible suitor, of course."
"An eligible what?" Ariadne demanded, despite the fact that she now very much felt like a parrot.
"Darling, you're an heiress. This is how it works. I was engaged to Lucius by the time I was sixteen– still in Hogwarts. You'll be a bit older than that, not to worry– I can recongize that times are changing, but your late arrival to the family has already set us behind. I'm already thinking up contracts now, darling, this isn't a hasty decision. And of course, we'll put you into etiquette classes for the summer. You really do know so little. It should have been done the year before Hogwarts, but I thought I'd give you some time to adjust. Draco's been learning under Lucius since he was a boy."
Ariadne finally understood what Astoria meant that day on the train when she said that Daphne had been raised for that sort of thing. Daphne must be the Heir to the family, as the elder sister, making Astoria the spare.
"So, all of Draco's friends are just, what? Future Lords and Ladies? Is that how he chose them?"
"Of course not. Crabbe and Goyle's boys are not. And Pansy Parkinson won't inherit the seat, her elder brother will. But yes, they're all families of good standing, of course. Oh, don't give me that look, Ariadne. Harry Potter is an Heir, you know."
Ariadne's head popped up in surprise and Narcissa gave her a knowing smile. Ariadne silently cursed herself and attempted to smooth out her face, but the damage was done.
"So, you are friends with the Potter boy. I wrote to Draco after I received your letter– I had been very disappointed to hear that you were being ostracized by your House, and disappointed that Draco hadn't written to inform me about it. But he told me a very different story, that you had made friends with the little Gryffindor trio. Now which is the truth, Ariadne, hm?"
It was a test and she had failed. Ariadne chose her words carefully before speaking. "I wasn't lying. The whole House– whole school, even, does hate me. Draco stopped speaking to me as soon as I was sorted and if my House didn't hate me before because of my father, they do now that they think that I'm the Heir of Slytherin."
Narcissa jerked back at the title and Muffy stumbled at her feet, nearly ripping a stich she was sewing.
"You know what that is," Ariadne noted with surprise. "Do you know who it is?"
"Don't be ridiculous," Narcissa said sternly. Although her haughty face remained frozen perfection, Ariadne knew her well enough to know that she was rattled. "I have heard about this little Heir of Slytherin business because I'm a concerned parent at the school. And Lucius is the Chairman of the Board of Governors. Now enough talk of Hogwarts, it's time for your robe fitting."
Muffy looked up in surprise. "Oh, but Narcissa, I–"
"It's time." Narcissa demanded quietly, and Muffy stopped speaking instantly. Even Ariadne felt the silent command to get up onto the platform that Narcissa had just vacated. Narcissa pasted a pleasant look on her face once more.
"We'll be using the same silk from my robes to create Ariadne's. It'll be just adorable, darling, considering it's your first public celebration with the family."
Ariadne nodded as dark green silk floated from the floor beneath her and wrapped itself around her body. With a small flick of her wand, Muffy began to measure Ariadne as she had done for Narcissa. Pins floated from the cabinet behind her to make the necessary marks as Narcissa looked on in approval.
"Can you teach me a bit more about Pureblood etiquette now, Narcissa? I didn't realize quite how little I knew." Ariadne did not care about etiquette in the slightest and was dreading the classes that Narcissa had mentioned earlier but elected to move the conversation into safer territory. Narcissa's reaction to the Heir of Slytherin had warned her off pushing too hard, though it also forced her to reevaluate Draco's role with the Chamber. While Narcissa began to drone on about ancestral Wizengamot seats, Ariadne hoped that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would have luck getting answers with their Polyjuice.
The moment that she was able to escape Muffy's bony fingers and Narcissa's watchful gaze, Ariadne snuck off to her room to summon Dobby. Only he didn't show. Worried now, Ariadne began to comb the manor to look for him physically. She searched the kitchens, questioned the other elves, entered wings she had never even been in before. Still, Ariadne found nothing. She only stopped her search when she was summoned to dine with Narcissa, though even then everywhere that could be looked had already been checked twice over.
For the next few days, Ariadne saw nothing of Dobby. Though she woke up every morning in the hopes that he was in her room, it was always Mimsy, who had begun to take over some of Dobby's duties. Nothing changed on Christmas morning.
"Happy Christmas, Miss! And Happy Birthday! Mimsy has brought you a cake."
Ariadne had completely forgotten. As Mimsy placed a slightly tilting, tiny cylinder of cake in her lap, Ariadne realized with a shock that she was twelve today. Some people wouldn't have liked sharing their birthday with Christmas, but Ariadne never minded. Her mother only ever gave her twice the amount of love to make sure that she felt appreciated. At least until the last year of her life. Selena had grown paranoid in the year leading up to her suicide, and Ariadne's ninth birthday was the first sign that something was wrong. Rather than celebrate, Selena had locked herself in her room and refused to even talk to Ariadne, too sure that someone was watching her. There was no one there, of course, and she came out eventually, but that had been the beginning of the end. A year later, and she was dead.
"Thank you, Mimsy."
"Eat it later, Miss. Mistress would like to see you now."
Ariadne didn't bother changing out of her pajamas with the knowledge that Narcissa was probably going to dress her, so she arrived at Narcissa's dressing room in a gray pajama set provided for her by the Malfoys.
"There you are, Ariadne," Narcissa called from the back of the room. "Come to me."
Narcissa was seated at a gilded vanity and was staring at herself intently in the mirror. She patted the seat next to her for Ariadne to sit. Side by side in the mirror, their differences were striking. But so were their similarities.
Narcissa had the porcelain skin of someone who had never worked a day in their life, perfectly maintained despite the fact that she was now in her late thirties. Ariadne's skin, though smooth, retained a light tan year-round – a trait she had inherited from her mother. Her dark hair, on the other hand, must have come from her father. It was neither Narcissa's flaxen nor Selena's golden blonde, but a rich brown. And though their eyes were a similar gray, Narcissa's were the color of molten silver compared to Ariadne's striking blue-gray. It was in their facial structure, then, that their relation became apparent. They shared the same aristocratic cheekbones and delicate chin with a small, somewhat upturned nose.
"Lovely," Narcissa breathed. Which one of them she was referring to, Ariadne wasn't sure.
Bare-faced, Narcissa flicked her wand and color flooded her face. "This?" she asked Ariadne. "Or this?" With another flick of her wand, Narcissa's makeup changed once more, now in a more understated look.
Ariadne looked on, fascinated. "The second."
Narcissa laughed at Ariadne's admiration. "Alright, darling." She flicked her wand again, and a light dusting of pink covered Ariadne's cheeks and lips. Ariadne moved closer to the mirror, inspecting herself. "Happy Birthday, Ariadne," Narcissa proclaimed. "Come, let's get dressed. Mimsy!" she called.
Mimsy kept Ariadne extraordinarily occupied throughout the day, seemingly unsure of what exactly to do with her. Narcissa used her wand to curl, uncurl, and recurl Ariadne's hair all while forcing Mimsy to hem and re-hem Ariadne's dress. She put Ariadne to work picking tablecloth colors and sampling foods for the hors d'oeuvres, as if those decisions hadn't been made months previously. If Ariadne didn't know any better, she'd think Narcissa was trying to keep her distracted, but from what she could not say for sure.
Narcissa, meanwhile, looked resplendent in dark green silk robes, perfectly molded to her body. Ariadne, on the other hand, felt a bit stupid. Her robes were made of the same material and color as Narcissa's, and to add insult to injury, Narcissa commissioned a matching bow to pull Ariadne's hair back. She felt like Narcissa's mini-me doll, dressed up like a toddler to be presented as an accessory.
The ballroom was filled with people, a far cry from the empty manor that Ariadne had grown used to in the past two years. Wizarding society came to Wiltshire dressed in their finest and, having spotted Blaise, Daphne, and Theodore about, their finest was very fine indeed. Ariadne did not say hi, electing instead to retreat to the corner of the room, as far away as she could be from the floating orchestra blaring classical wizarding music.
Narcissa swept into the center room, back perfectly straight and chin held high, robes whipping elaborately behind her. Ariadne took a very brief moment, though she'd never admit it, to quietly admire Narcissa's ability to command a room. She had not yet uttered a sound and still the entire room had not only immediately hushed, but subtly moved back to allow her space. Even with the privileges afforded to her through her husband and family, it really was an enviable talent. Lucius followed behind Narcissa, using his serpentine cane to tap on the marble floor in time with his measured steps. If Narcissa ruled with poise, Lucius governed with fear.
When the two reached the middle of the room, Narcissa rested her hand on Lucius' elbow and stood for a moment in silence. Tall, blonde and aristocratic, Lucius and Narcissa took the time to be observed and admired before Lucius began to speak.
"Welcome to the Manor, everyone." He pasted on a practiced smile that would have been charming had Ariadne not lived with him for a year. "We're delighted to share our home with you all for Christmas once more. In a time where many wizards," Lucius sneered, "are attempting to force their methods of change, it's important that some things stay constant." The crowd, wealthy and privileged, cheered loudly. Lucius continued mockingly. And so, don't forget how to vote on the Arthur Weasley's upcoming Muggle Protection Act." Ariadne scoffed in disgust as his audience laughed. Lucius looked to Narcissa who continued for him smoothly.
"While our darling Draco has elected to stay at Hogwarts this break, Lucius and I are pleased to present Ariadne Black, my cousin's daughter." Every eye in the room found Ariadne's from the corner in which she had planned to hide. She turned bright red. "And we'd like to wish Ariadne a very Happy Birthday." Ariadne got even redder when Narcissa paused to indicate to the crowd that they should applaud. After they took their cue, she continued. "Happy Christmas to you all. Please, enjoy the festivities. And if you need anything at all, ask a house elf!"
Flush with embarrassment, Ariadne busied herself with the hem of her sleeve to avoid meeting the curious gaze of the crowd. As a result, she was startled when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"Ariadne… Black? I should have known…" Ariadne looked up and met the eyes of an older man, around Mr. Malfoy's age. He was very handsome (for an old guy, of course) with perfectly styled golden hair and eyes so dark they were almost black. He looked familiar, as though she'd seen him somewhere before.
"Oh! Yes, that's me. Hello!" Ariadne waited politely for the man to introduce himself, but he didn't. He continued to stare at her instead, dark eyes searching her face. There was something in them that she couldn't quite place. She coughed uncomfortably, and the man startled before schooling his expression.
"You must excuse me, it's just– you look terribly like your mother."
Ariadne tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before smiling. "Really?"
The man stared again, before shaking his head lightly. "Just right there– she used to do the exact same thing. Especially when she was a girl." He smiled at the memory.
"How did you know her?"
"How rude of me not to introduce myself. You can't blame a man for getting lost in his past, can you? I was a few years ahead of your mother at Hogwarts, the same as your Uncle Benjy. But I knew her long before that. The Fenwicks' and the Notts' go far back."
"Notts?"
"Yes, I'm Thaddeus Nott. You might know my son Theodore?"
"Oh, yes we've met. Draco introduced us." So that must be why Ariadne recognized him, at least a bit. He did look quite like his son, the same golden hair and sharp cheekbones. And the same dark eyes.
At her words, Mr. Nott's eyes darkened even further so that she could not tell iris from pupil. His gaze hardened. "In another life," he said bitterly. "In a better, fairer life, you'd have known Theodore long before you knew Draco." His mood turned abruptly somber as he reached forward and placed a hand on her cheek. Ariadne worked hard not to flinch away.
"It's been two years now, hasn't it?" Ariadne understood what he was saying instantly and nodded mutely. Two years since she moved in with the Malfoys, two years since her mother had died. He continued to look at her, through her, and she wished suddenly that Draco had come home with her so that at least someone could have noticed her plight.
"Ariadne!" A voice called out. "I can't believe I didn't know it was your birthday! How could you not tell me?"
Mr. Nott wrenched his hand away and Ariadne sighed with relief, though she was careful not to let it show. Astoria skipped over to the two of them and launched herself at Ariadne. Hanging of her with one arm, Astoria turned to Mr. Nott while giggling. "Mr. Nott! I didn't see you there, but I'm certainly glad to have found you! My father had a question for you about drinks this weekend."
"Astoria." Mr. Nott pulled his lips back tightly into something that nearly resembled a smile. "Energetic as ever I see. Ariadne, I look forward to meeting you again in the future." He smiled at her and Ariadne forced a smile back. She kept it on her face until his back blended in with the rest of the crowd.
With considerably less energy than she had exhibited seconds before, Astoria waited for Ariadne to turn back around before speaking quietly. "Hi, Ariadne. I didn't realize it was your birthday."
"Well, how would you know?" The girl who had bounded over to Ariadne with excitement and wished her a happy birthday, that was who Ariadne had met on the train. Who Ariadne had expected would be her friend at Hogwarts, Slytherin or not. She remembered Astoria's words in Potions and felt bitter. "Playing nice when I have the favor of pureblood parent council?"
"That's not fair." Astoria's face scrunched up with hurt, and Ariadne felt instantly guilty. None of it was really Astoria's fault anyway.
"No, it wasn't," Ariadne conceded. "Thanks. For the rescue." She turned to walk away.
Astoria called after her. "I want to be your friend, Ariadne. I just– I just don't know how." Ariadne turned back around.
"Don't know how? Tori, I want to be friends. And I don't blame you for avoiding me. But the only way to be friends is by being friends." She stepped closer.
"It's not as easy for the rest of us as you make it look."
"Easy?" Ariadne laughed, but it sounded hollow even to her. "Do you think any of this has been easy? The whole school hates me– has hated me, even before anyone got Petrified."
"They don't hate you, it's just– it's complicated. And now that you're always with Harry Potter and his group? People talk, Ariadne, and those are not insignificant allies."
"They're not allies, they're my friends– I think. Which is more than I can say for you."
"They're allies, whether you like it or not. I'm glad you didn't end up in Slytherin, Ariadne, I mean it." Her eyes welled up. "But I wish I could have had you with me. I'm not … cut out for all this. Not on my own, not like I had hoped I might be."
"We can be friends, Astoria. But not on your terms. You don't have to be the perfect Slytherin, you know. You can just be Astoria."
Astoria opened her mouth to reply but was stopped when Daphne approached. "Ariadne," she greeted plainly, and Ariadne nodded back. Daphne turned towards her little sister. "Astoria. Mother's looking for you. Come with me, now."
"Daphne, don't use your Heiress voice with me. I'm your sister, for Merlin's sake. Please, just give me a moment."
"Now, Astoria," Daphne said coldly, flipping a golden lock over her shoulder. She turned and did not wait for Astoria to follow. She didn't have to– Astoria shot Ariadne an apologetic look but ran to hurry after her, and Ariadne only looked on sadly. She retreated to her room silently, no longer in the mood to put up with the party.
The next morning, Ariadne awoke to a tapping on her window, long before Mimsy was set to arrive. A snowy owl was hovering on her balcony, hooting and tapping intermittently to get her attention. She walked over to the French doors and threw them open, and the owl flew in happily.
"Hedwig?" Ariadne squinted. "What are you doing here?"
Hedwig hooted a small reply before dropping a small letter on her desk. In a hasty scrawl on the front was one word: Aria. It must be Harry, she realized.
Dear Aria,
How's life at the Malfoys? Ron and I took the Polyjuice and everything went okay (Hermione had to go to the Hospital Wing, but don't worry, she's fine. We're visiting her every night, and she'd like to see you when you return.)
You were right– Malfoy isn't the Heir of Slytherin, and he doesn't even know who is. He seems to think that his dad does, though and that it was opened fifty years ago. No way his dad was at Hogwarts then, right?
Anyway, let us know if you learn anything. Happy Christmas!
P.S.
Malfoy mentioned something about a chamber under the drawing room? Let us know if you find anything.
Ariadne dropped the letter back onto the desk, scrambling downstairs. She grabbed a dressing robe and threw it on on her way down, nearly slipping on the smooth marble on the landing. Skidding to a stop when she saw Lucius walking by in the parlour, Ariadne made her steps inaudible as she tip-toed into the drawing room. She began searching the walls for any sort of hidden staircase in a bookshelf before dropping to her knees in the middle of the room to lift up the ornate carpet on the ground. Running her fingers along the floorboards, Ariadne paused her hand when she felt a groove out of place with the rest.
Tracing along the groove, Ariadne found a latch and lifted with all her might, to no avail. You're a bloody witch, she thought to herself. And your magic will go undetected if you're at the manor. She remembered that day before Hogwarts with Draco. "You're a Black," he had said, as if it was something to be proud of.
"Alohomora," she tried quietly, and to her surprise, the entrance unlocked itself. Lucius probably thought no one would ever find it. She walked down the stairs leading into the small chamber, lighting her wand with a quick "Lumos." Along the walls were shelves holding various objects, each one more disturbing than the next. Black quills, jars of eyeballs, a shriveled up hand… Ariadne shivered. Only when she got to the bottom of the stairs, however, did a small figure make her look closer.
"Dobby?" she asked.
"Miss?" he responded, shrouded in the dark. "What is Miss doing here? This is a very dark room, Miss. Very dark. Miss should leave Dobby."
"What's happened to you, Dobby? Was it Lucius? Is it about the Chamber?"
"Dobby did not respond to Master's summoning," Dobby said. He looked at the ground pitifully, refusing to meet Ariadne's gaze. "Dobby was at Hogwarts with Harry Potter, but Master does not know that. Dobby is to be punished until he is ready to serve at all times."
"You've been here since the Quidditch match? Oh, Dobby… this can't go on. Let's get you out of here." Ariadne said determinedly.
"Miss is too kind. But leave Dobby, please. Dobby must be punished, or else Master will be very angry."
"Well, has he come to visit you since the punishment began?" Dobby shook his head. "Then he'll never know. Follow me."
Ariadne snuck Dobby up the stairs, carefully relocking the chamber door with a quick "Colloportus." She sent Flitwick a quick internal thanks for covering the locking charms early on. Once in her bedroom, after making sure Dobby was safe, Ariadne turned to him seriously.
"Dobby," she began. "You have to be honest with me. What do you know about the Chamber of Secrets?"
Dobby recoiled with a shudder. Ariadne laid a hand on his small shoulder but pressed on. "Is Mr. Malfoy involved?"
"Dobby doesn't know much, Miss." Dobby took a deep breath but continued bravely. "And he is a bad elf to tell. But Master was given a book, a very bad book, which can do very bad things. The book knows, Miss, how to open the Chamber of Secrets. And Dobby does not know how, but now the book is in Hogwarts.
"A book? Like with dark spells?" Ariadne asked. "Is it in the Restricted Section?"
"Dobby does not know, Miss. Dobby only knows Master meant to open the chamber. To harm the students, to harm Harry Potter!" Dobby stood up straighter during his proclamation about Harry, as though ready to protect. Ariadne had never seen him act like that before, and her heart warmed at the sight.
She kneeled down and wrapped her arms around his tiny body, though in the back of her mind she was dimly aware of the filth of his cloth garments. "You're a good elf, Dobby. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."
Ariadne sat alone on the train back to Hogwarts, and though a small blonde Ravenclaw joined her in the carriage on the way back. The two girls sat in a companionable silence– Ariadne would have introduced herself, but the girl seemed lost in thought as she stared at the skeletal black horses that pulled the carriage. Though Ariadne had noticed them the first day, she had been too nervous for the sorting to truly give them much thought.
By the time they arrived at the castle, however, as the Ravenclaw was climbing off the carriage, Ariadne decided to grasp her last chance to ask. "Do you know what those are?" she questioned, indicating to the eerie beings that had stopped trotting only moments before.
The blonde looked surprised, widening her large silvery eyes in surprise. "Oh, wow. They're thestrals," she said softly. "You're very lovely, Ariadne, to have sat with me. I'm sorry I didn't speak much, I suspect the Wrackspurts have gotten into my head during the holiday!"
And with that, the strange girl retreated towards the castle, her straggly, waist-length hair swinging while she walked. A wrackswhat? Ariadne thought, before shaking it off and running to the Hospital Wing to visit Hermione. She suspected, rightfully, that she'd find Harry and Ron there as well.
She briefly greeted the two boys as she entered the wing, each seated at opposite ends of Hermione's bed. Though she planned to catch up with the three about their breaks later, right now Ariadne wanted to pool what they had learned about the Heir of Slytherin. After dropping flowers that she had cut from the manor garden in vase conjured on the side table, Ariadne turned to observe Hermione, and thoughts of the Chamber subsided. Harry had not specified in his letter why exactly Hermione was in the hospital wing, but looking at her now, the answer was simple. She was a cat, was being the operative word. It was clear that, at some point, Hermione had been more cat than girl. In the hospital bed now, she lay as an odd sort of hybrid– an amalgamation between human and feline. Though her whiskers had receded, the points from which they had once grown were clear. Similarly, though Hermione's face was now mostly skin, soft brown fur blended from the edges of her forehead onto her hairline.
"Oh!" Ariadne exclaimed involuntarily. When Hermione's face began to fall, hurt filling those odd, vertical pupils, Ariadne quickly tried to mend her accidental outburst. "It's not bad at all, Hermione! I was expecting the worst. You'll be back to normal in no time, I'm sure." She was lying– it was bad.
Hermione smiled, revealing canines slightly longer than her already large front teeth. "Thank you, Ariadne, but you don't have to lie. I have looked in a mirror, you know. Madame Pomfrey says that I should be fully healed within a month. I expect Harry and Ron will be bringing me our coursework in the interim." She looked at the two boys meaningfully. Ron looked at Ariadne, baffled.
"I think I'd take a bit of a break off school myself, if I was a cat." He scoffed.
Hermione brushed his comment aside. "Ariadne," she addressed. "What did you learn at the Malfoys?"
"I got Harry's letter," she responded, glancing up at him quickly. Ron gave Harry a look that Ariadne couldn't decipher, and so she pressed on. "The tip about the drawing room was very helpful– that's where I found Dobby. He thinks that Lucius had some sort of book that has the information about opening the Chamber, and that the book is in Hogwarts now. That's why he went to warn you, Harry, before school began."
"A book?" Hermione began to furiously take notes on a small piece of parchment. "You three should get to the Restricted Section as soon as you can."
"Alright," Harry began. "But we've got to get to the dorm soon. Snape's given me us more work than even he has time to grade. Aria, are you coming?"
"Oh!" Ariadne scrambled to collect her things and rushed to join Harry and Ron before looking back at Hermione. "I'll come back to visit you tomorrow! I had a Potions question I've been meaning to ask you anyway." Hermione nodded back, still looking over that piece of parchment.
As they left the wing, Harry paused outside and looked to Ron meaningfully. Ariadne watched on as Ron furrowed his brows at Harry, confusion evident. Harry coughed, angling his head towards Ariadne, and Ron's eyes widened in sudden realization.
"Oh! You lot go on ahead of me. I've got to– er. Got to ask Percy why, er, Scabbers has been sleeping so much lately!" And with that, Ron ran off in the opposite direction.
Ariadne grinned at the obvious lie before turning to Harry, who looked at her expectantly. "I suppose I owe you a conversation," she admitted.
"You do," he returned. "The portrait said–" he started over. "Were our– did my dad know yours?"
"I didn't know who my dad was until this year," Ariadne began apprehensively, biting her lip softly. "My mum never mentioned him, not if she could help it. Not directly at least. She used to tell me these stories, when she was a little– you know. Really little things about Hogwarts or the Wizarding World. But some of the stories were about this group in the year above her. She really admired them, I think a lot of people did. They were the coolest kids in school, the way she described them." Ariadne thought she might have been rambling, but pushed on anyway, determined to get this out. The memory of her mother stung a bit, on top of having to speak about her father. "I think, er, I think they were our dads. At least, two of them were." Ariadne watched as Harry closed his eyes, absorbing this information. He must not know much about his dad, she realized. Maybe even less than I do about mine. "Only, I don't really know what happened, because your dad was, well, your dad, and mine ended up in Azkaban for life."
Harry's eyes opened abruptly. "What?" he asked, shocked. "Is that what everyone's been on about? What did he do?"
Here, Ariadne had a choice to make, and even as she was making it, she knew she had chosen wrong. But if she told him the truth now, she was sure they could never be friends. If she could just hold off, keep Harry from finding out as long as she possibly could, he might be able to stomach her for at least a little bit longer.
"H-He killed twelve muggles. I don't know why." Ariadne rushed out, face crumbling with guilt. Mistaking this for sadness, Harry reached out and touched her hand as a gesture of comfort, albeit with all the awkwardness expected from a twelve-year-old boy. Ariadne nearly flinched away, ashamed, but held steady even as her eyes welled up.
"You're not your father, Aria," Harry said fiercely. "You're nothing like him." At that, Ariadne began to cry in earnest, prompting instant panic within Harry.
"Oh! No, no, er– don't do that." He patted her hand uncomfortably, and Ariadne giggled between sobs, wiping at her eyes with her sleeve. Her tears were mercifully (for them both) interrupted by an angry voice from around the corner.
"– expecting me to mop all night? That's it, I'm going to Dumbledore–" the voice muttered to itself, footsteps receding in the direction of Dumbledore's office. A door slammed, and the hall was silent.
"Was that Filch?" Ariadne asked, peering up at Harry through wet eyelashes. Harry poked his head around the corner, gesturing for Ariadne to follow suit, which she did with one final dab at her eyes. Seeping out from Myrtle's bathroom was a great pond of water, stretching nearly half the corridor. A wail echoed from the bathroom walls.
"Myrtle," Harry identified the sound grimly. He led Ariadne into the bathroom, holding his arm out to help her through the puddle. Ariadne grabbed on with one hand, lifting the hem of her robes to above her ankles with the other.
Inside, Myrtle hid in total darkness down her usual toilet and let out sobs so anguished that Ariadne's tears from earlier seemed like mere child's play. She popped her head up and out of her hands at Harry and Ariadne's entrance. "Who's that?" she choked out, voice childlike and whiny. "Have you come to throw something else at me?"
Harry moved closer, wading through the water puddling on the floor. "Throw something at you? Why would I do that?"
"I don't know!" Myrtle yelled, angry now. Water gushed out from her toilet with the force of her cry. "I'm only here, minding my own business, and someone thinks it's funny to throw a book at me."
Harry shot back around to face Ariadne, dragging his robes in the water at his feet as he did so. "A book?" he mouthed. Ariadne moved to join him in questioning Myrtle, tip-toeing across the water daintily. It was too late for her socks, but she could hope to save her hem.
"Did you say a book, Myrtle?" Ariadne piped in. Myrtle peered around Harry's shoulder to find who spoke, eyes narrowing when she saw Ariadne.
"Yes, a book I said! Have you even been listening?"
"I have been, Myrtle!" Harry jumped in, and Myrtle relaxed visibly. "Who threw it at you, anyway?"
"I don't know," she said slowly, in that high voice of hers. "I was just sitting, thinking about my death, when it fell through the top of my head. It's over there." She pointed to a small, black book under the sink, submerged in a deep point of the puddle of water. Harry and Ariadne moved closer, bending forward to observe.
"It can't be that easy, can it?" Harry asked, turning his head towards Ariadne before moving to pick it up. But she did not meet his eyes, instead continuing to stare down at the sopping book on the floor.
"Is that… Ginny's diary?"
Okay! So, a lot happening in this chapter. We learn a bit more about Ariadne's background (some hints of what's to come!) as well as a bit of divergence from the books, which I'm hoping we'll see more of as we go on. And a bit of the social dynamics at play! Things will be picking up from here, so stick around. As always, leave a review, favorite/follow and please let me know what you think. What do you hope is coming up, and what are you most excited to see play out?