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I am hoping the technical issues resolve soon.
Enjoy the latest chapter,
Xxsorenxx
Chapter 41 stalker
Senna awoke from her usual dream–Malos the serpent, stuck to her neck, asking for more. There wasn't any more she could give him. He had all of her magic. He nearly had her life too.
The space in Senna's chest felt heavy like a rock. It was her fault the Clearcil Orphanage burned down–if only she was able to keep her scars to herself, Struan wouldn't have attacked them.
No! Senna wiped the tears from her eyes. Her legs were heavy like stone, but she forced herself out of bed. She couldn't forget that this was Struan's doing. She could not let herself wallow in what could have been. It was best to channel that rage towards Struan. Her hate for Struan gave her the strength to drag herself out of bed. She tilted one of the potions into her mouth. The bitter taste made her gag.
When she finished the vial, she sat and waited for her limbs to feel alive again. Then, she was able to get dressed for the morning.
The memories of last night made their way into her mind. Clyde was missing somewhere within the Hogwarts campus. The muggle relations department had spent most of last night looking for him, and came up empty handed. That gave her more time.
Senna had to find him… but what for? She wasn't sure what she wanted from him, but she needed him.
Before breakfast, Senna knocked on Headmaster Roberts' office. After a few moments, he opened the door. His round and pink face greeted her, "Ah, Senna, what can I do for you this morning?"
Senna walked in. His office was modern and clean–the complete opposite of Hogwarts. The silver textile chair, and sleek black desk with minimal clutter gave off a feeling of freshness and industrialism.
"It's about Clyde." Senna told him, observing the framed certificates on the wall which were all of Roberts' various accomplishments, "Have they found him?"
"Not yet, my dear." He rounded the desk, and sat back down.
"Could we... keep him?" Senna asked, unsure of how to phrase her desire.
Roberts was silent for a moment. "What do you mean?"
"Well…" Senna wracked her brain for something that would make sense to her Headmaster, "I think he could help me... with the tournament. I know we're not supposed to seek help, but I think having him here would be a great benefit." She didn't mention that she thought Struan might have been behind the fire, and that Clyde was in danger if he were to decide to come back and finish the job.
"How so?" He leaned back in his chair, and the chair squeaked in protest under his weight.
"I need to be in top shape for the tournament. Athleticism is my only advantage, and Clyde… well–he was the best of the best back at Clearcil. He could do things, impossible things, that is what I need to win this. I need to be able to do the impossible." Senna said.
Roberts looked at her through his round glasses, contemplating her words. He turned back to his desk after a moment, staring at the empty wood. "I have someone coming to Hogwarts for you." He told her. Senna blinked, not understanding the sudden change of direction the conversation took. "Rachel Butler, an Ilvermorny graduate. She is my good friend's colleague, and after hearing about your predicament, and the sum of compensation I offered her, she's agreed to come to Great Britain to take a look at your curse."
"What does this have to do with Clyde?"
"She might be able to restore your magic." He told her, and she understood what he was implying. That she wouldn't need Clyde if her magic was restored.
Senna groaned. "Another Healer? Do you think she's better than Lord Bane?"
"Well, no. Actually, she's an Economist that works for the American Ministry of Magic."
Senna gaped at him. "She's not even a healer... How do you think she can restore my magic?"
"Because," Roberts pushed on the rim of his glasses, "She is a Parselmouth."
"What?" Senna was surprised.
"Yes, so she'll be able to interact with the magic in ways the other healers cannot."
"How is that possible?"
"One of the healers said your affliction is a result of Heirloom Magic, and only an expert in Parseltongue magic could reverse this, though she's no expert, we don't have many options."
"No, I mean… How is she a Parseltongue? I thought it was very rare."
Roberts sighed. "Yes. It is." He turned to pull a piece of paper from a stack on his desk and began to read from it. "Rachel Butler is from a mixed-blood family. It is difficult to track, since Rachel's lineage was not recorded at all. Upon investigation, it is possible she is a descendant of the founder of Ilvermorny, Isolt Sayre, who was not a Parseltongue herself, but carried the trait in her lineage."
"Hmmm." Senna pondered this. "Then maybe I am too." Maybe we both are, Struan, Senna thought to herself.
Roberts eyebrows drew together in confusion. "Why do you say that?"
"Um." Senna shifted uncomfortably. She thought her headmaster already knew that she was a Parseltongue. Doesn't he listen to the rumors his students spread?
"Because I am a Parseltongue." Senna said quietly.
Headmaster Roberts' jaw dropped a bit, forming a surprised 'o' with his mouth, but he quickly recovered. "O–Oh" He coughed unnaturally, "I see."
"That's why I am sure simply speaking Parseltongue is not a promising outlook. Otherwise, I would've figured it out by now, at least as well as an economist." Senna cringed. Being an economist sounded like a very boring job.
"Wel…" Roberts was flustered now, shuffling his papers unnecessarily. "It couldn't hurt now, could it? So Rachel will be here tomorrow or the next day, I expect you to be mindful of her time."
"But what about Clyde?"
"I'll see–I'll talk to the Ministry about this… maybe we can do something." Roberts was bubbly again, "I know it's been a tough time for you, with the orphanage and all, you need your brother, yes, I'll see what I can do."
Senna left his office then, and made her way to the Great Hall. She kept her eyes peeled on the walls and ceilings, knowing Clyde could be anywhere–he was a master at hiding in the most unlikely places.
Viola ignored her when Senna joined the Slytherin table. She tossed her red hair between them like a curtain, and then ate her breakfast with much haste.
"I know you're mad." Senna whispered to her hair.
Viola leaned away from her.
"I had to say goodbye to Clyde, you know that." Senna continued, "He wasn't there though, it seems like they lost him somewhere on campus."
Still no response from Viola.
"Look, there's nothing going on between me and her. Anymore. It was a long time ago. Okay?"
Senna saw her shoulders stiffen, but she did not say anything.
Viola's usual gang, consisting of Zuebeida Khan, Blaise Zabini, and several other Syltherins she never bothered to learn the names of, sensed Viola's foul mood, and did not dare speak to her. They kept their heads low, as if fearing their ring leader's wrath. Senna looked around at the crowd nearest to them. She heard their fearful thoughts and their reluctance to say anything at all, and was suddenly reminded of Struan at the dinner table full of scared Death Eaters. Senna mildly wondered if choosing Viola over Struan just meant choosing one villain over another.
Senna sighed, giving up her attempt to talk to Viola. She scooted away from her and began to dig into breakfast.
Viola unexpectedly stood up, pushing herself off away from the table with an aggressive demeanor.
Senna stood to follow her, but was tapped on the shoulder. Behind her, Professor Snape looked at her with his usual stoic expression. "Meet me at my office, Senna." And then he walked away. When Senna looked forward again, there was no trace of Viola in the Great Hall. Students had started to stand and make their way into the halls. Judging by the number of students wearing casual clothes, Senna deduced it must be the weekend again, and she had no idea where Viola was headed.
Senna sighed and made her way towards the dungeons.
When Senna entered Snape's office, he was sitting at his desk, his quill pressed up against his parchment, but his hand was not moving. "Close the door." He instructed without looking at her.
Senna gulped, and did as she was told.
Senna slowly approached his desk, and sat in the leather chair across from him. The smell in the room was rather musky, and it made her nose wrinkle. There were several jars on the shelves, where the lids were left open, the culprit for the odd smells.
Senna stared at the still man, waiting for him to acknowledge her.
Finally, he spoke. His voice was cold. "We have not had the chance to talk."
Senna nodded.
"I have heard a basic recount of events from the Aurors and Dumbledore, however skewed it may be, but I would like to hear it from you."
"Is it usual for the Hogwarts staff and the Aurors to meetup?" Senna wondered. But when she looked up and met Snape's cold eyes, she regretted speaking her mind. "Um," Senna quickly tried to recover the conversation, "The Aurors chased me into the forest, and someone kidnapped me from there."
"The Aurors detained you because you were using a bewitched object to communicate with the Dark Prince." He corrected.
Senna shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well… I didn't know who he was at first. Then he told me he was my brother. I couldn't just…" Senna had trouble finding the words.
"I don't believe you to be so ignorant as to toy with a magical object that can think for itself." Snape interjected, his voice growing louder.
"But, I had to know–"
"That is precisely the logic that can get you lured out and killed. Any promise of information, and you throw yourself into grave danger–"
"Well I wouldn't have to, if you had just told me the truth!" Senna could feel the heat rising in her chest. If he had called her here just to lecture her about her stupidity, she wasn't going to stay and listen. Senna stood up, and continued to rant when Snape opened his mouth. "Keeping me in the dark about all of this, is not helping!"
"Have I not been giving you the information I promised?" Snap hissed in an angry whisper, "I told you about your mother, and your relations to him."
"You said you didn't know what he wanted from me. You lied."
"I did not." Snape's voice was no longer a whisper.
"He wants to make me his queen."
Snape didn't comment. There was a pause, the air hung thick between them.
"But now that I refused him, the only thing he wants is for me to grovel to him for my power back, or my death."
"That's precisely why you need to be more careful."
"And you know what else you're not telling the truth about?" Senna ignored Snape's last comment. Snape looked up at her, his face cold and unreadable. "What you want from me."
Snape continued to stare, unsure of what she meant.
"You wanted to keep me from seeking him out… You wanted to keep me afraid… And for what? Was it because didn't trust me to refuse him? You thought I would join him and become a bigger problem for the wizarding world? Or are you on his side? Trying to keep me silent until you can serve me to Struan on a silver platter?"
Red tinged his sallow cheeks, "No!" Snape yelled.
"Then which is it?" Senna yelled back.
The red on his cheeks spread to his jawline and neck. There was something brewing in his mind that he was trying to hold back. Senna waited for it to surface.
"Your mother." Snape said through clenched teeth. It looked like it took a lot of effort for him to say.
This took Senna aback. "What?"
"Your mother." Snape repeated, speaking as if he were in a great deal of pain. "I promised her to spare you."
Senna blinked, unsure what he was telling her. "What do you mean spare me?"
"She wanted me to spare you from the life as the Dark Lord's Daughter."
There was a pause. "How else am I supposed to do that, other than to put you far away, away from the Dark Lord and the Dark Prince? What else can I do except try to get you to focus on your studies and live a normal life?"
Senna was speechless. She stared at Snape, his red face and greasy hair. She couldn't think of anything to say to him. Another long, silent moment passed between them. And then Senna had the urge to laugh. It bubbled up her throat, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't keep it down. And so she chuckled. And then the chuckle turned into a full blown laugh.
She couldn't pinpoint why she was laughing. This certainly wasn't funny. Maybe she was having a psychotic break. When she saw Snape's face, it looked as if he might agree with that assumption.
Abruptly, she stopped laughing. "You failed." Senna said in a soft voice.
Snape did not say anything.
"They tortured me at the Clearcil Orphanage. I was a freak, I had no friends. The only thing I could do–the only thing I knew how to do–was fight and stay alive. And it's really the only thing I know now. And because of that, every morning, when I wake up, I feel like I live in a different world than everyone else. Like everyone else lives in some sort of fantasy world, while I'm here, living in hell." Senna continued in a lifeless voice. "How am I supposed to build a normal life with that? Normal doesn't exist, not for me."
Snape opened his mouth, but no words came out.
But Senna was no longer in the mood to listen to what Snape had to say. She felt drained, and it had nothing to do with the curse.
Senna spun around and left his office, half-expecting Snape to stop her. But he did not. She marched down the corridors, not sure where her destination was.
Students scurried out of her way as usual–at least most of them did. Some students tried to smile at her, while others looked up in interest as she passed. But Senna didn't pay attention to them. When Senna entered the west area full of classrooms, it was void of people. It was the weekend after all.
Senna found herself standing on the dusty floors of the unused gym. Senna paced the floor. It was as she left it. Several pieces of training equipment were still erect. The dusty floors were smudged, and spattered with traces of blood–probably her blood. She had expected the room to reset itself, as it usually did. Unless… There was someone in the room this whole time.
"Clyde!" Senna called out, spinning around the large room, looking for the disheveled blonde. Senna scanned the equipment and floors, and also remembered to check the ceilings too. "You've become so unobservant." Someone whispered behind her in a disapproving tone.
Senna jumped with a yelp, and spun around to face Clyde. Senna placed her hand over her racing heart, "You scared me to death."
Clyde leaned back and chuckled. "And that would be your own fault."
Senna took notice of his large and muscular frame. His size was a sign of his success as a hunter and a thief. His talent made it so he was always able to eat well, and grow big and strong. Senna was lucky to get enough sustenance to grow tall, but she was rather spindly until she got to Brownwell, and was able to eat as many calories as she desired.
"Where were you last night?!" Senna asked him.
But Clyde did not answer. He pressed his finger on his lips, motioning for her to be quiet. He peered over her shoulder.
Senna looked around the empty room, but saw nothing.
"What is it?" She asked him in a whisper.
Clyde leaned into her ear. "You're being followed."
His words sent a pang of panic down her spine. She scanned the room, looking for her invisible stalker. It could be a Death Eater–or worse–Struan.
Clyde stalked forward suddenly, chasing an invisible opponent. To Senna's surprise, dusty footprints appeared along the floor, retreating from Clyde's approach.
Clyde lunged forward then, like a snake snapping into its prey, but a shimmering wave of light knocked him backwards. Clyde stumbled backward, but lunged forward again, chasing the invisible person as they retreated to the gym doors.
"Who are you?" Senna called as she ran behind Clyde towards the doors.
Clyde made another lunge as the gym door opened, but was knocked backwards by another shield charm. The door slammed shut, and Senna quickly opened it as Clyde stood up. They both peered into the empty halls.
They had lost him.
"That's odd." Senna contemplated. The stalker didn't seem like a Death Eater. His defenses were too gentle. Death Eaters hated muggles. If it were a Death Eater, Clyde would've been dead. It could've been a student… but a perfect Disillusionment Charm was much too advanced for the average student.
And then it dawned on her… The Aurors were watching her.
Clyde stepped out into the hall, and began sniffing the air. Then he knelt down to the floor, and began sniffing that too.
Senna watched in horror.
"What are you doing? Get up! You look like a dog."
Clyde stood up, glaring at her, unashamed. "You could learn a thing or two from hounds." He spit to his side, and then turned to her, "Have you forgotten how to use all your senses? Such a shame."
"And stop that. I'm not a street rat anymore, like you." She hurled back at him.
Senna heard his thoughts, he was sure he caught the stalker's scent, but Senna brushed it off. They couldn't smell every person at Hogwarts.
Clyde rolled his golden eyes. "Once a rat, always a rat." He told her, "The Sen I used to know would've used every tool in her toolbox to identify the danger."
Senna opened her mouth to retort, but Clyde moved quickly and grabbed her shoulders. He pushed her shoulder down so hard, it forced her knees to buckle, and Senna had to put her hands out in front of her to catch herself.
"What–" Senna started, but Clude interrupted her.
"Take a deep breath." Clyde instructed. "What do you smell?"
"Um." Senna struggled to keep up with his demands. "Dust?"
"And what else?"
Senna took a deep breath. The air was dusty, but caught a whiff of something sweet. It smelled like… Lavender. Maybe a hint of vanilla. It was very faint. But there was no mistaking it.
"Smell it?" Clyde asked her. "Smells like soap."
"Yeah…" Senna trailed off thoughtfully, her anger for Clyde momentarily forgotten.
"Now if you come across this scent again… you'll know." Clyde said triumphantly.
"There's no need." Senna told him. "I already know who it is."