So I wrote an emotional scene and when I showed it to my friend who I always brainstorm with he told me it reminded him of a nervous breakdown, and that it may be a trigger for some people. So to prevent any displeasures I made sure to include a TW at the notes. Be warned.
TW: Character suffers from a Nervous Breakdown
The world of Harry Potter and its characters belong to JKR. I do not support JKR. Trans women are women. Trans men are men. Trans people are people.
Chapter 11: Beating Flaming Hearts
"H-Helena?" Gryffindor breathed out, and Ron felt suddenly uncomfortable being in the same room as the two. The Grey Lady seemed like she had been the one to stare at a ghost, but Ron saw as her eyes suddenly filled with silver tears and she floated away. Gryffindor seemed rooted to his spot as if he had been petrified in his place, but something seemed to shake him off from his daze.
"Helena, wait!" Gryffindor said as he reached out to the Grey Lady, but it was too late by the time he had taken his first step she had rounded the corner and passed through the ceiling above.
Ron's master had a face of pure rejection and grief, Gryffindor sank down to his knees as his head bowed down in defeat. Ron looked around checking for anyone that could be nearby, seeing no one he walked to Gryffindor's side. Gryffindor looked heartbroken, he wore a similar expression to the one Ron had sometimes spotted on Sirius' expression whenever his time at Azkaban was mentioned, or Harry's parents.
Gryffindor was tall, taller even than Ron's father who was the tallest adult, besides Hagrid, he'd ever met. His large body made it hard for Ron to find a way to sit down without looking like a midget. Still he stayed by his side as he stared down at the floor like a defeated man. He turned his head and looked at Ron giving the young Weasley a strained smile he ruffled Ron with his large hand and looked at him amusedly.
"You need a haircut, ginger cub," he said. He stood up to his full height, cleaned invisible dust off Ron's shoulders and cleared his throat. "Well, I think I'll go to sleep tonight. Make sure you rest, Ron. Good night."
"Master Gryffindor?" but Gryffindor was already walking away, a somber aura surrounding him as he walked the halls of Hogwarts alone. Ron looked at the retreating figure of his mentor and tried to follow him, but as soon as he took a step in his trail Gryffindor's voice boomed across the hallway.
"Go back to your dorm and forget about it, Ronald," it was intimidating, like a lion who could talk instead of roar, but Ron only looked at his mentor as he walked away. Ron debated going back to the Common Room as Gryffindor suggested, but instead he followed his mentor as he roamed the halls of Hogwarts. The cold night offered no warmth for Ron, yet he didn't mind it. Gryffindor had comforted him when he had made a fool of himself in his first Quidditch Match, trying to help him was the least he could do.
He followed him to the training room where Ron could see that Gryffindor had sat down on a chair with his head in his hands. The older wizard seemed exhausted, like someone who'd just gone through a war, and Ron wouldn't be surprised if he had. Gryffindor lifted his head, and Ron froze in his spot, the older wizard sighed and conjured a second chair giving Ron the hint to sit down.
Gryffindor had taken off his gloves and rolled up the sleeves of his top leaving his numerous scars out in the open. It was haunting the amount he had, some were so disturbingly complex that they almost looked like tattoos, and Ron wondered to himself what kind of magic could do that.
"Magic that can kill you," Gryffindor almost growled, his voice seemed raspy as if he had just let out a scream and had lost his voice. The two stayed silent, Ron trying his best to keep his mind blank so that Gryffindor couldn't read it.
"Master?" Gryffindor hummed, signaling Ron to ask the question he knew the young boy had.
"Are you alright?"
Gryffindor clearly hadn't expected that, but he still managed to hide his surprise. What was he supposed to say? Yes, I'm alright young Ronald, I've only seen the ghost of my daughter for the first time because believe it or not I'm actually the most cowardly man you have ever met. He rubbed his eyes trying very hard to extinguish the tears before they even threatened to escape his eyes. Gryffindor shook his head.
Ron only nodded and stayed silent. Something gnawed at his mind, and Gryffindor must have underestimated his mind skills, because even though he knew Ron wanted to desperately ask something he wouldn't reveal what it was, no matter what.
Gryffindor didn't know how long the two had stayed like that. Almost frozen in time as his thoughts dwelled on Helena. She hadn't changed, not one bit. A mirror of his mother in every single way from her black eyes to her sleek black hair and pale skin. He couldn't have been more proud when he was born, because even when she looked almost nothing like him except for her freckles she was everything he could ever hope for in a daughter.
"Did you know I was almost late to her birth?" he said out of nowhere. Ron's head shot towards him, his gaze hanging on to every word. "I'd been having some trouble with nearby giants in the region. Your friend Hagrid talked to you about them, I believe. And then this little house elf suddenly appeared and started panicking, saying that Rowena was about to give birth."
He chuckled to himself, he had never been more scared in his entire life. Not even moments before his own death.
"So I dealt with them quickly," Godric continued. "I gave them every single piece of armour I had prepared to give them across several days. They were pleased enough to stop giving trouble for the next few months and I apparated right outside Hogwarts by the grounds. The moment I reached the castle I disabled the Anti-Apparition Charm and immediately apparated to her side. Helga almost fainted when I appeared by her side."
Almost was a bit of an understatement, Salazar had to levitate her to make sure she wouldn't hit her head.
"Rowena looked as she always did. Undeniably beautiful. Even when she looked tired and ready to pass out, she couldn't help, but to look like the fairest angel that ever graced the world. And after a very strenuous four hours she was born. Pale skin that made it look like snow covered her face, black eyes that glistened like onyx gems, and twelve freckles, six on each side of her face. Helena Ravenclaw. Our daughter."
Ron's eyes seemed to bulge out of their skull as he looked at his mentor. Gryffindor couldn't blame him.
"It's not common knowledge," said Gryffindor. "I'm not surprised that you don't know. Ravenclaw was a woman's family name; if she had been born a boy he'd have been named Hector Gryffindor. We tried conceiving more, I always wanted a large family, but we could only have her and her older brother, Alaistair. My body was far too damaged from my recklessness fighting dark creatures and such."
"I loved those two more than anything, they were my life, my being, they held my heart in their hands and I was happy to give it to them. Row raised her with every bit of knowledge she had, Helga taught her to be compassionate even Sal taught her a trick or two. I couldn't do that, I was basically a squib when I grew up. All that I learned I learned through the same effort that you go through, only worse. I stop you whenever you break a bone, I didn't. I give you a glass of water when you start spitting out blood, I didn't. I couldn't do what I did to myself and you to Helena."
"She resented me for it. She wanted to know the ways of Dragon Magic, but I just couldn't let her. I don't blame her…" Godric felt a knot form at the back of his throat as tears started to swell in his eyes. "And then she stole Rowena's Diadem… And contrary to the stupid and idiotic popular belief she didn't do it out of bitterness towards her mother… She did it out of bitterness towards me… Rowena would never tell me where she had gone, and when she got sick she sent that fucking obsessive student of Salazar's, instead of me."
He fisted his hands hard enough for his knuckles to turn white and for the torches lighting the room to flicker furiously.
"I knew from the start he was bad news," he growled. "A pretentious snotty boy that only cared about himself, he only got into my school because his parents practically begged Salazar. He couldn't have my little lioness, so he made sure no one could have her either. When I got back I found him first, I was so close to exorcizing him, completely erasing him from any plane of existence."
Godric's anger faltered as the flames stopped flickering.
"I died just a couple of years after Rowena did, and only about half after Helena died. By then Salazar was gone, and Helga was left alone to die from old age. The only of the four of us… According to Helga, Helena never talked, not once, she refused to speak to anyone one until her aunt Helga died. Even now, when I returned I seeked her, yet she always found ways of avoiding me. It was my fault, in the end my own daughter would rather spend eternity as a ghost than to go on to the afterlife with her father. Even now, when I returned I seeked her, yet she always found ways of avoiding me."
Ron didn't say anything. And the fact he hadn't shown disgust towards Godric surprised him. Surprise, he wasn't the bravest wizard alive, he was average at most. He heard Ron stand up, he wasn't trying to look into the young wizard's mind, he didn't want to see how he saw him now, he just couldn't. And then he felt an arm surround his shoulder trying to reach the right sight of his back.
"I… I…" Ron cleared his throat. "I don't really know much about parenting, but… I know that you're one of the best teachers I've had. In some ways you've raised me into someone better according to everyone else. I– I think you're pretty cool."
Gryffindor didn't know if he wanted to cry or laugh, so he did a bit of both. He moved his arm and wrapped Ron with his left arm almost covering all of his lean body. He sniffed and let out a snort that was a mix of a whine and a laugh.
Cool. That was a first. Brave, brilliant, incompetent, dirty squib, loving, handsome, disgusting, rude, vulgar, were all words he'd been called in the past and cool was the one that did him in. Cool. A word that only a teenager could use. A teenager who had faced things like the ones he did when he was younger.
For the rest of the night Ron and Gryffindor didn't do much except talk. And maybe drink a glass of Firewhisky or two.
When Ron woke up his head was killing him. The world seemed to have spinned last night and he was suffering the consequences of it. Sun rays hit his face and he turned over trying to go back to sleep.
"Wake up, you prat," he felt as a pillow collided with the side of his face as Harry's voice tried waking him up once more. "You're going to be late for breakfast, and we have Quidditch practice today."
Ron sat up on his bed swinging his legs and feeling the cold stone floor beneath the soles of his feet. He stood up almost dizzily as he headed to the shower bringing some clean clothes from his trunk as Harry explained some new moves he wanted to try during practice. When he was finally naked and under the shower head he felt himself relax more.
The cold water hit his pale skin relieving some of the aching in his head. He rinsed his scalp with his sandalwood shampoo, the only manly one that his mum usually bought for the whole house. He felt some of his dizziness and overall shitty state slip off him like mud that was cleaned by heavy rain.
Once he finished drying up, he took a look at himself in the mirror. He had changed a lot since the beginning of the year. His shaggy red hair had grown ever since he managed to avoid his mother's haircuts across the summer. It wasn't as long as Bill's or remotely close to his eldest brother's ridiculous length of hair, but it resembled Sirius' length more. It almost reached his shoulders and had lost its shaggy feature, looking more like simple straight hair with a few wavy locks. His shoulders had broadened and the start of muscles had appeared, according to his mum he had also grown taller, but that wasn't unusual at all.
A lot of people were telling him how different he was looking, comparing his current looks and behavior with those of his past self. Hell, he hadn't been lying when he told Gryffindor. It was weird as all Ron could see was the same tall skinny gangly freckled boy with a too long nose and blue eyes. The same boy who had screwed up his first Quidditch Match so badly he hadn't even returned to the Common Room that night to celebrate their win.
He got dressed and left the bathroom accompanying Harry and Neville on their way downstairs. When he came down to the Common Room he was almost immediately surrounded by cheers from his fellow Gryffindors, a smile that he couldn't control crawled up to his face as the corner of his lips turned upwards.
People were cheering and chanting "Weasley is Our King" although not as loud as last night. Whistling and applause filled the Common Room, and Ron was happy to see Cormac McLaggen with one of the most sour expressions on his face.
From the crowd of people Hermione made her way towards him, and Ron suddenly realized he hadn't really talked to her after his match. He made his way to breakfast with her, Harry, Neville and his siblings.
"Seriously, Ron," said Hermione for the umpteenth time. "When you came back to the Common Room you were really weird, you were swaying on the spot and were laughing at the simplest things. Are you sure you didn't come across any dangerous magic?"
"For the last time, Hermione," Ron responded, his ears turning their signature red. "I didn't. Me and Gryffindor only went to talk at a more private place. Nothing even happened."
"That's not true," Hermione called almost triumphantly. "Harry said that you went violent sick in the bathroom," Ron turned around to his best mate who had a guilty expression on his face.
"Harry!"
"I'm sorry, mate," said Harry, scratching the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to, it just slipped out," Ron narrowed his eyes before returning to his usual bickering with Hermione, missing Harry's amused expression as he looked at his two best friends.
Once inside the Great Hall they headed to the Gryffindor table ready to dig into some nice breakfast when a voice broke out.
"Weasley!" Ron turned his head and looked at Cedric Diggory staring at him. His expression told Ron nothing of how he felt. Was he angry for having lost the match yesterday? Perhaps he was looking for an excuse to fight Ron. After all, they were rivals in the tournament and Quidditch as well. The Hufflepuff Head Boy began walking towards Ron and all action ceased in the Great Hall. Students had stopped talking and were staring at the two champions of each house.
The professors looked wary as if expecting a fight, that was until Cedric extended his hand slowly and a smile crept up his face. The slightly taller boy was smiling at the Champion of Gryffindor with such honesty that Ron felt a smile of his own creep up. He took Cedric's hand and shook it as he congratulated Ron.
"Good match," said Cedric. "Couldn't really tell you with all the cheering after it."
"Thanks," said Ron. "Erm– Good match to you too, you're really good on a broom."
The two smiled at each other before they let go of the other's hand. The students began resuming their activities once the alluring thought of a fight between Diggory and Weasley was now non-existent. Professor Sprout looked quite proud of her student as she showed a smug and sneaky smirk towards McGonagall who rolled her eyes, but looked proud as well.
Ron sat down and put some food on his plate as he began eating. He looked up noticing Hermione reading an Arithmancy book completely ignoring her breakfast. Ron slid her plate closer to her and poked her with his fork. She looked confused at her best friend while Ron only pointed at her breakfast, Hermione looked like she was about to protest when Ron took out the old Prewett stare and she rolled her eyes taking a bite of her eggs. She looked at Ron as if to see if he was satisfied while he only kept intensely staring at her like a mad man. She laughed at the expression on his face and settled the book down on the table as she began to eat her breakfast.
While she ate, Ron couldn't help, but stare at her. It was hard not to, but how could he avoid it, the way her tongue licked her sugar stained lips as it seemed to dance inside her mouth along with her food. She let out a hum of delight as she closed her eyes, seemingly pleased by the taste of the food that morning. Ron could imagine her with the same expression in another situation–
"Excuse me, everyone!" The sudden bellowing voice of Helga Hufflepuff filled the Great Hall and broke Ron out of his thoughts. The Hufflepuff Founder, along with Salazar Slytherin were standing in front of the professors' table. And from what it looked like it seemed they were about to make an announcement.
"As you know," she said out loud. "Half of your year has already gone by. And with each day the Tournament comes closer and closer."
There was cheering from all the tables as they showed their excitement for the event.
"And," said Slytherin. "As you also may know from your… Perseverance, " it looked like Slytherin wanted to say something else and instead refrain from insulting his students. "There has been a secret training among the chosen champions that they haven't been allowed to discuss."
"Training that has been kept a secret for any other member of Hogwarts. Including other champions. But now we want to test our chosen students."
There was whispering and murmuring among the hall and Ron paid full attention to the founders. What were they implying?
"As such," said Slytherin, drawing out his voice. "We have prepared for the Champions, the teachers and students a Demonstration Match!"
"A small sample for you the students to see how much your Champions have progressed. It will take place in the Quidditch Pitch a week after the next Quidditch Match of Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw 20th of March!"
"For our champions," said Slytherin and his gaze was fixed on Daphne Greengrass. "Be. Ready."
"And for the rest," said Hufflepluff far more cheerily. "Prepare for the match!"
And with that the two founders left leaving an unwilling chaos amongst the students. People were approaching Ron, Cedric, Luna and Daphne all telling them how they were betting for them. Fred and George were in their element telling everyone around them that they could always place their bets at Weasely's Wizard Wheezes. Ron felt sick to his stomach.
A Quidditch Match was one thing. A test in front of the whole school where everyone could see Ron potentially getting his arse kicked was another. After breakfast he made his way to his Chambers for some training and when he entered his room he was surprised by what he saw.
There was a long box wrapped in red and yellow on top of the four poster bed. Ron saw a card attached to it.
Ron, see me in the Training Room with this. Happy Christmas.
– Godric Gryffindor
Ron opened the gift and his eyes widened. A silver sword with something that looked like black gems adorning the hilt and in the blade was engraved "Ron Weasley". It looked like the Sword of Gryffindor from the time he had seen Harry wield it, except for the red ruby gems that were replaced by blue sapphires. He swung it once, it didn't feel too heavy or too light, it felt perfect. Ron didn't know why, but his eyes started to slightly swim with tears and he wiped them with his forearm and tried composing himself quickly.
He placed the sword inside the scabbard that came along with it and opened his way to the training room. On his way Ron noticed something different, instead of a quick and short hall that connected his chambers and the training room there was a long narrow hallway with torches, however it wasn't long enough for Ron to spend a long time walking through it. Once he managed to exit the hallway he looked around and saw Gryffindor sitting with one of the training swords that they normally used.
His head snapped up looking at Ron and a smile settled underneath his wild red beard. He stood up making his way towards Ron.
"I see you got a hold of your gift," said Gryffindor. "The finest of warriors always held a sword back in the days. At least in my opinion," Ron couldn't lower the giant smile that he had on his face. "Now, as you might have heard, we have some preparation to do for next month. Are you ready," he said as he took an offensive stance.
"More than you think, Master," Ron responded, taking a defensive one.
For the past month or so Daphne had been feeling different. At first she didn't know if she felt different in a good or a bad way, but now she knew that she felt different in a good way. When she had returned from yule holidays going back into training with Lord Slytherin they had followed the same routine, they walked by the Black Lake, Slytherin casting a Nebulus Charm along with an Disillusionment Charm so that they could enter the secret entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.
They were practicing hex casting when Daphne first sensed it. Her wand movement, although acceptable, was too flashy, not effective enough in a real duel against an opponent who would know what they were doing. Her stance was good enough to keep her grounded if she needed to use an explosive curse like Confringo, but when using hexes she needed more grace, more assertiveness like a snake searing for its prey.
Slytherin apparently noticed it. At first he only showed slight hints of his interest, arching an eyebrow or humming to himself whenever she performed a perfect casting of a complicated hex she had been practicing for the last few weeks before the yule holidays which she could suddenly cast almost perfectly. It clearly intrigued him, but whatever had changed in Daphne made her wary of Slytherin's presence. Every time he approached her for something non-training related she would be extremely nervous, more so than usual.
Slytherin seemed to also clearly notice this. Her uneasiness towards her mentor had taken a toll on her duties. Her latest Arithmancy essay could've been done a bit better, even when Professor Vector had told her it was one of the best pieces of Numerology she'd ever read from a student. She was worried that at any second, at any class Lord Slytherin would summon her to uncover her newly improved skills.
They were in front of his statute in the Chamber of Secrets when the voice made its first appearance. She used the same stance as always, they had been practicing a new technique they were going to use for the Demonstration Match, Slytherin kept questioning her while she tried to cast a secret technique when suddenly a voice spoke in her head.
'You don't deserve this,' it was smooth, like honey dripping from a jar or the texture of silk made noise, incredibly captivating. 'You're doing everything perfectly, aren't you?'
Daphne stopped her exercises. Where did that voice come from? Could Slytherin also hear it? From what she could discern from his continuous neutral expression he probably couldn't.
'You need to focus on who you are,' said the voice once more. 'Daphne Greengrass, smartest witch in Hogwarts. Most brilliant student in centuries. Only shadowed by Hermione Granger, the know-it-all of Gryffindor.'
Although she was still concerned about the voice she couldn't help but to feel incredibly inclined to agree. She was all those things, she just didn't show it off like Granger did all the time. She focused, she could do this, if anyone could it was her, she put herself in a different stance, her gut was telling her she needed more grace in her posture. She spoke the words clearly and casted the technique successfully for the first time.
She felt giddy, however she hid her excitement successfully and bowed to her mentor as she made her way out of the Chamber of Secrets.
Their training sessions were all mostly just Lord Slytherin instructing her in what to do and what to say. Spells of all kinds, charms, hexes, jinxes, curses, transfigurations anything that could possibly help her during the Tournament. She had even learned to brew some potions that were more advanced for her year as they weren't against the rules. Whenever she would finish an assignment of his she would simply bow to him as he instructed and leave the Chamber to continue her day.
As she made her way to the Great Hall she bumped into someone else as they both made their way in.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she turned her head and saw Cedric Diggory with a charming smile on his face. Daphne gave him a look over and went to sit down by the Slytherin table, ignoring the somewhat hurt expression on Diggory's face in her wake. She dug into her meal ignoring some of the students that were speaking to her animatedly about how excited they were about the Demonstration Match. There were opportunists, before she had been chosen for the Tournament they'd held no desire to spend time with her and as such she held no desire to spend time with them.
She stared back at Cedric Diggory who had already sat down. The golden boy of Hufflepuff as some called him to his back. She couldn't lie and say that she didn't think so as well, he was many of the things people were normally jealous of: attractive, tall, fit, athletic, popular, smart. It wasn't surprising how many people liked him as well as how many people didn't. And since his apparently disastrous break up with Cho Chang he was probably the most desirable boy in all of Hogwarts.
She saw him laugh and smile among his friends, people who were with him even before the Quidditch, the Triwizard Tournament, the Prefect and Head Boy badges and now the new Tournament. They weren't with him for popularity or to climb social ladders, all of them simply enjoyed Diggory's company. It made sense, from what she knew he was a very likable person, but Daphne didn't do people.
And then Daphne turned her head, and it didn't make sense. Ron Weasley didn't make sense. Since day one he had made a sort of name for himself, accompanying Harry Potter as his lackey for his numerous adventures. Helping Gryffindor win the House Cup in their first year for "the best-played game of chess Hogwarts had seen in years". She'd like to see that for herself. He didn't excel in anything, in fact she was sure he was only above average compared to his best friend Granger. But the fact still remained that he was just Potter's lackey, nothing more, someone who managed to win the House Cup two years in a row because he went along on the ride with Potter.
And despite every fact he was somehow more popular than Potter nowadays. Since becoming Gryffindor's Champion, a Prefect and winning the latest Quidditch Match his popularity had risen. Yet, even with his supposed increased popularity his amount of friends still remained the same. He was a very social person with many friends and becoming those things hadn't increased his amount of friends or made people like Draco Malfoy, who had recently begun hanging out with Daphne, began to seek reasons to hang out with him.
He was tall, he had become more fit from what she'd overheard in the Girls Bathroom from Angelina Johnson, or any of his female teammates. From what the professors in their shared classes said his grades were improving and his rebel look of long hair made him apparently the third most attractive boy in Hogwarts, from the rumours and stupid gossiping she'd heard around the halls.
Daphne saw the truth however, Ron Weasley was a loser. He was dead last. Other than becoming Harry Potter's stupid best friend he was a nobody. Compared to his brothers who had achieved several accomplishments during their years at Hogwarts he brought nothing new to the table. He wasn't smart, or the best athlete until just a couple of weeks ago, and to her his long nose and large ears made him too ugly to consider him attractive.
So why was it that he was the one surrounded by friends at that moment? Why were Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil laughing at his jokes like they were the funniest thing in the world like they did months ago before the Champion Selection? Why were Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan joking around with him? Why was Neville Longbottom asking for his opinion on his new stupid magical plant discovery? Why were Potter and Granger so eager to spend time with him?
'Why can't it be me?' her voice bellowed the question and resonated like an echo inside her head. Jealousy and envy coursed through her veins as she saw red from the sheer anger that filled her being. She stood up, almost knocking down one of the younger students that had sat down beside her. She made her way to her private chambers, determined to not make a scene.
She didn't know why her eyes felt like they were attacked by tiny needles that tried poking her eyes out. But deep down, she knew. Because no matter how much she claimed to feel numb about her parents' constant prioritizing of her sister she had always craved it. The loneliness had taken a toll on her even when she refused to admit it. Why? Why did she have to be the one to constantly feel alone? Why couldn't it be Loony Lovegood? Nowadays even she had more friends than Daphne. When she finally made it to her room she crumbled down to her bed.
She probably looked ridiculous, like a hormonal teenage girl that had just been broken up with her boyfriend. She didn't want to cry. Crying showed weakness, and she wasn't weak. She began slapping herself as she berated her emotions.
"Stop!" she whined. "Stop! Stop! STOP!"
Her tears continued to flow down her cheeks as her cheeks began to burn and redden under her continuous ministrations. She pulled at her hair as she began to hyperventilate, her breathing becoming harder. Her scalp hurt and she felt as if her hair was about to be pulled from her hair at any minute when something broke her out of her self attack.
'Why can't it be you?' it said. Daphne's head shot up as she looked around the room searching for the source of the voice.
"Who –sniff– Who are you?" she asked as she brandished her wand pointing around her room.
'I'm someone like you, Daphne,' said the silky mysterious voice. 'I was one of the greatest students Hogwarts ever saw, but I never really had any friends. Just like you.'
"I don't need f-friends," she said as she wiped the tears from her face.
'Oh, but you do,' said the voice. 'You desire it so much your heart is practically craving it. Companionship, Friendship. Love. I was just like you, did you know my own father abandoned my mother when she had me in her womb, and she died delivering me so from the start I never had the love of either of my parents.'
"M-my parents… They lov–"
'No, they don't!' it spat out venomously. 'You try to lie to yourself that you don't care, but in fact you are so green with envy towards little Astoria that it's no surprise you were sorted into Slytherin.'
"I– I don't hate Astoria," and she knew it was the truth as her voice never quivered. "I love her."
'I know you do,' it said almost condescendingly. 'But that doesn't stop you from wanting the love she gets so badly, you'll go as far as to pretend to not care for such "trivial things" as you dubbed them, but deep down, you want it. Don't you?'
Daphne's body shook with whimpers and cries as her head nodded.
'Don't worry Daphne. With my help, you'll get everything you've ever wanted. You only have to trust me.'
"And who exactly," said Daphne as she sniffed. "Am I supposed to trust?"
'Nice to meet you Daphne. My name is Tom Riddle.'
Salazar Slytherin has and is many things. Among them, obliviousness is not of them. So he knew when his apprentice came back from winter break that she had come back different. Vastly different. From the way she talked, to the way she carried herself down the hall. There was a new presence in her being, almost arrogant if he were to say so himself.
Any of the normal and common mistakes that would make themselves present during their session would be non-existent, almost like she'd already done so on her own. But that wasn't possible, he would've been informed if she had performed magic out of school, he'd asked Severus and Albus personally. So just what was going on with the young Greengrass? What was the secret that seemed to be eating her away like a Basilisk did a spider? He intended to find out whether she wanted to or not.
Normally, this type of thing would be easy for him. A simple and small peek with Legilimency would tell him all he needed to know, but along with her other new differences in her behavior came a sort of shield that had suddenly appeared surrounding and protecting her mind, he knew he was more than capable to break through them, but if he were to do so she would most probably notice. It wasn't worth losing his champion's trust.
So the old method would have to do. Talking. To be honest, of all the things he'd learned in his old and long life talking was perhaps one of the hardest, ironically the Silver Tongued Snake was never the best smooth talker when it came to matters outside of manipulation, deceit and influence of the common poor mind.
And that's how he ended up there observing his apprentice as she waved her wand expertly on the latest self-made spell he had shown her. It had taken him months to create and weeks to perfect, but to her it seemed like the simplest Wingardium Leviosa . It was a bit embarrassing if he were to be honest. When she finished and bowed to him as she always did he spoke to her before she exited the Chamber of Secrets.
"Ms Greengrass," he called, her head whipped around. She had certainly changed, her slightly tanned skin had grown a tad paler, however she didn't look the least sickly. Her grey eyes normally dull seemed to have morphed to a darker shade. Her well kept brown hair was set loose instead of tied as she normally wore it. "Would you mind keeping yourself here for just a couple of more minutes?"
"Of course, sir," at least she hadn't lost her manners. She walked in front of him, with a straight back and a gaze filled with respect and something else entirely.
"Splendid work today," said Slytherin in what he hoped sounded like an impressed tone. "I have noticed improvement in all of your techniques. I must say I'm impressed with your rapid progress."
"Thank you, sir," Daphne's tone revealed nothing, if she was nervous Slytherin couldn't tell. Salazar walked towards her, making her look at him strangely. He put his arm on her shoulder and patted her uncomfortably.
"Good work," he said. Daphne nodded, and that's when Slytherin tried sensing any disturbances in her, but he failed to do so. The only thing he felt was a strong heartbeat coming from her, and then his eyes spotted a shimmer of gold coming from inside the robes of his apprentice. A gold he would recognize anywhere.
"Were you given anything for Christmas?" he asked, Daphne nodded and from her robes she took it out. His old locket, it was useless, the last time he had seen it was when he gave it to his own son with its original purpose completely gone by then. "Where did you get that?"
"It was given to me by a friend of my family," when she said the word friend it sounded almost like she had choked.
"May I see it?" holding out his hand to her, to which Daphne seemed to stare nervously at the founder before a smile set on her face slightly disturbing Salazar. She put the locket in his grasp, and just as he suspected…
Nothing.
He stared at it for a full minute before handing it back to Daphne dismissing her with a wave of his hand. He had completely missed as Daphne's eyes had gone red the second she had handed the locket to her mentor.