Chapter 12

Pansy huffed loudly for the tenth time as she did her best to emulate an irritated child and with good reason.

"All the whining and complaining in the world isn't going to turn us back Parkinson", Tracey called over her shoulder.

Pansy stamped her feet, letting out a frustrated and cautiously subdued scream. Her shorter legs working faster she caught up to step with her annoying friend and began hissing at her in the cold. "This is stupid Davies, its freezing out here, got to be what, midnight? and you've dragged me out in my best cloak with no explanation".

"Always been jealous of that cloak", Tracey spoke nonchalantly without care for the fact that they were indeed outside the castle at night. "A heavy black and lace velvet and silk hood, gods it just screams sex".

"You're such a weirdo", Pansy spat.

"Oh, hush child, your so prissy when your angry". Tracey kept a pace in front as she led the way, two dark hooded silhouettes in the open grounds. "Yes, it's a cold night I'll give you that but its more like half nine and hardly the crime of the century if we were caught, which we won't be!" she added the last with a great deal of mockery as it had taken a good twenty minutes of arguing and convincing under a heavy silencing charm just to get Pansy to leave their dorm knowing they were headed outside. She had no idea that the girl with the reputation of a vile snake was so averse to rule breaking.

Pansy's complaining and protesting had cost them time and made Tracey all the more ignorant with her. They were making their way down to the lake where the fields of grass met the shore. These were the sought after Spring sweet spots where waves of students came to bath and hang out in the rare, good weather. Crossing back over to the path on what Pansy could only suspect was a shortcut to wherever they were going, they began to head to what she assumed was the Quidditch Pitch. Some short time later they passed that too and headed for a spot where the Forbidden Forrest met the Black Lake and Her stomach began to drop.

Tracey paused when she heard a lack of footsteps. She turned to see Pansy had stopped with a wide-eyed moon filled face. "Come on were nearly there".

"I'm not going in that bloody forest!"

Tracey rolled her eyes, "we sort of 'are' going in there, yes, but not properly". She smiled, "think of it as dipping a toe". She turned and walked on, she could hear muffled screams of protest accompanied by angry stomps of those gorgeous boots that she wished she could fit in to and borrow.

Pansy, still softly ranting and franticly dancing her eyes over every shadow that threatened her, walked straight into Tracey as the girl stopped. Looking up at her she saw that they were quite literally only just about to enter the forest. They were stood on the outer most rim of the dark black mass, behind them the equally vast black mass of water where somewhere beyond, her bed lay submerged waiting for her.

Just as she was about to speak Tracey turned to her, Pansy expected another smug look from that same calm and confident face but instead she was smiling down at her very sadly. Pansy shrugged at her still irritated by the situation. She was unimpressed by this almost Gryffindor attitude to adventure and hoped they would be done soon. She honestly didn't care to find out what the mystery behind it was.

Without warning Tracey pulled the back of Pansy's head to her chest and enveloped her with her arms. A second in and Pansy thought about pulling away in protest until her softer and more apparent side of late came out and she pulled her friend in. She was unsure what the cause for the embrace was but she liked it all the more.

"You're not Gay, are you?" Pansy breathed into her chest, "I'm flattered, and it doesn't change anything but it's not really me".

Tracey instantly fell into hysterics, trying her best to stifle her laughter. "You're a bloody idiot you know Pansy, but gods I love you". Pansy pulled away and looked at her with confusion, Tracey scoffed, "no I'm not Gay", she laughed.

Pulling Pansy into the forest she brought her voice down to a whisper between them, she still had a firm grip around her and spoke softly but guided her on as she did. "Pansy I can't believe this week, I don't believe it, but it happened, and I don't know why but here we are". "We started this without any idea what we were doing or what it meant but now, you mean the world to me and I can only hope you feel the same".

Pansy stopped and looked up at her, realising Tracy was trying to sum them up after all that had happened. "Tracey, no one's meant more to me so quickly and it frightens the hell out of me. Going from being so bloody lonely to finding a best frei-…", she cut herself off.

Tracey's throat hitched as she spoke, a tear threatened in her eye, "…-best friends?"

"I didn't mean, I never meant", Pansy's cheeks flushed in the cold. She didn't even have to think about her slip up, she knew the truth of it was that she did think of the girl in that way, her only friend that wasn't by proxy. Pansy trusted Tracey with the truth. "You're my best friend", Pansy spoke with firmness, hints of similar tears threatening her eyes. "I didn't mean to say it but, it's true".

"I'd love to be your best friend", Tracy spoke with a mirroring tone to Pansy. Smiling she took to guiding her a few more steps on to where Pansy could now see the telling signs of starlight beyond the trees. "And if you're willing to accept what's to come, I'll take a sister as well as a best friend".

Ron had every intent of spending the day both stubbornly remaining alone and honestly believing it to be for the best for him. The morning in the Great Hall had clattered his plan to a halt as he'd 'made progress' with Hermione and Harry, he refused to say, 'made up'. But he had found breakfast not only bearable but enjoyable as he spent it mostly sending barbed ribs back and forth with Hermione and laughing at Harry's expense.

He gratefully spent some of the day together as they all managed to get the outstanding homework down to just the ongoing studies, they'd all have to continue to endure to stay ahead in class this year. It wasn't as peaceful as he'd hoped though as the subject was turned, predictably, to Umbridge by Harry. Ron completely agreed with him of course, but it had been far from the first time he'd had heard a scathing rant about her. He was more worried by Hermione's points that they would struggle to complete their exams while Harry's was more a direct hatred for the old Toad.

Now though in the evening he'd had enough and was stepping out onto the Quidditch pitch as he had the night before. He'd had to get away, the two had lightly tested a few boundaries as they all sat in a private alcove of the library. It started with Harry simply reaching over the table to casually take Hermione's hand in his as they all read from the respective books. Ron had paid little attention, but it was still a pantomime as each of them knew it was more than something so simple. It was another chess move, another that was new to him, and he had to take in the board as a whole, not focusing on the one piece.

The undertone was still there though as he knew they were waiting for his reaction, Ron couldn't allow himself to show a single sign that he'd noticed. That then turned into a guessing game of knowing whether to show that he had seen it and wasn't bothered by it or continue to ignore it as he had done. It was their first test to what was, his idea after all.

Not knowing if they had passed or not, it was some time until the next move. This time Hermione had finished helping Ron with his Transfiguration homework and went to sit with Harry to assist in his Charms. As she did, Harry casually lifted a leg over the bench to make room for her. As Hermione sat next to him, they both began to read from his book, as they settled Harry rested his head on her shoulder as his arm came to rest along her back. From then he spent the next hour nestled into her. Ron recognised how tense Hermione had been as Harry first did this and he managed to give her a look, rolling his eyes in exasperation which she seemed happy to take as Ron playing it off as if it were nothing.

Ron kicked off the ground hard and surged up into the cold air, the lights of the castle in his peripheral became a blur of colour. All sound became a roar as the wind rushed over his ears. The afternoon in the library bothered him, Harry's hand on Hermione's, his arm wrapping around her and holding her like it were second nature. It stabbed at him painfully.

Ron became weightless for a moment as he instantly levelled from the almost straight incline. For a long moment, he sat three hundred feet in the night sky. The brilliant silver moon silhouetting him as he looked out at the castle. He could see Gryffindor tower in the distance, he might even be level with it at this height. Again, the image of Harry holding Hermione bit into him, he closed his eyes to it. Pushing his broom down he dived into as vertical a drop as possible.

Plummeting down, his eyes still closed, he felt the air cruelly sting against his face as the speed and ferocity of the dive fired his senses into overdrive. The blood rushed and pounded his ears as his heart beat a feral rhythm in his chest. Two hundred meters down he opened his eyes to see the dark shapeless ground rising and filling his vision as he hurtled towards it. Twenty feet from the ground he pulled his broom up savagely and urged it back up. He could feel it vibrating under him as it powered into wanting to fly up to where he was pointing it. The inertia of the dive and gravity still pulling him to the ground he began to fire back upwards as he pulled out of the downward drift, ten feet from the pitch below. The Cleansweep picked up its speed with a solid and even power until Ron had found it would lurch forward with an unsuspecting blast of speed that erupted it onwards. Unlike Harry's Firebolt that was even and consistently paced. Ron had found an instant love for his broom the night before as he pushed it to its limits and beyond them, even taking a few painful tumbles to the ground. It was strong and punchy, and then that sudden sledgehammer of speed that surprised him every time, he adored the unpredictability.

He corkscrewed back up in tight circles that widened into looping arches in the sky, always gaining momentum and height, helped on by that surprising backfire of sudden speed. Then once again, as suddenly as he was cannon firing into the deep purple and black nights air, all that noise and sound halted in an instant as he stopped. Perched high above the grounds, almost touching the clouds, he took in a welcomed breath against the surge of adrenaline.

Ron spent long moments there, hanging effortlessly as he hovered in the night. He huffed in annoyance as the image of them both again attacked him. He wasn't angry at either of them so much as himself, he had asked to do this, and he was the one with the issue. The whole situation just seemed to be a glaring irritation that he couldn't quite get by without it jeering at him. He had wanted to believe that maybe he was right, that he wasn't that invested in her. But doubt crept in and he felt that he was wrong somewhere along the line, maybe he really was just trying to save face. A big part of him did want to feel how soft her hand would be in his, how it would be to have her nestle her head against his and pull her close into him.

"You fly like you don't want to live!" shouted a voice coming up from behind him. Ron leaned into his broom and swerved it round to turn, finding the voice. Harry came to stop a distance from him as he reached his level. "Merlin Ron, do you have a death wish or have you always been suicidal".

As quiet as Ron felt it was up here, they were still soaring beyond what they were taught was safe. It was windy and Harry had to shout to be heard. Ron didn't do this to feel reckless, he'd done this to feel something other than that irritation. He guessed it helped he was blasting around with a spur of anger edging him on though. Taking the opportunity to break in his broom properly, he'd turned a bad evening around somewhat. He guessed it had helped there was an element of fearlessness to the session, but he was only looking at it as a bonding exercise with what was, the only broom he'd ever got to call his own.

"I'm shocked at how well we fit together", Ron shouted, "it's not like having a go on yours. It's mental how much I can feel where its limits are".

Harry knew exactly why you'd want to take a broom to its limits. Anyone who was a flyer knew the thrill, it was in your blood as it rushed through you, every nerve of your body going into a sensory overload. But to Harry this felt foolish and dangerous. "I don't want you to-".

"What?" Ron roared back as a patch of choppy wind hit them, making it hard to hear each other. "You want to what?"

"I DON'T WANT YOU TO GET HURT", Harry yelled.

"Oh!" Ron gave his head a jerk towards the ground figuring Harry would get the hint. He leaned forward and hurtled back down, not quite the nosedive he'd just performed but he was still speeding with fierce velocity.

"BLOODY HELL", Harry yelled aloud as he darted down after him. He caught up to Ron quickly but as he pulled up Ron didn't and for a millisecond his heart was in his throat as he thought his mate was going to crash to the floor.

But Ron pulled up smoothly to a seamless landing as he hopped off only a foot from the grass. He looked down feeling his Cleansweep vibrating in his hand, it hummed in anticipation, wanting him to get back on. He threw it over his shoulder dismissing the urge as Harry touched down.

Harry's face was red, "you mental! what was that?"

"What was what?" Ron fired back, he didn't get this sudden stressing and from Harry of all people.

"That was not safe mate".

"I know my limits".

"Do you!" Harry took a step towards him growing angrier, "or is this you having a strop because you couldn't handle a bit of hand holding".

Heat instantly filled Ron's face and he took a step towards Harry in anger.

Tracey pushed past a thicket of brambles which parted in a suspiciously organised way that gave Pansy the impression they were about to pass through an entrance of sorts. Still within the thinnest of treelines, only just on the inside of the forest. As Pansy was led inside the girl turned, placing her hands on Pansy's shoulders. Tracey was blocking her view as she spoke a final time. "This is where I leave you".

Tracey pulled out her wand and gave it a swish over her front and a black lace fabric vail appeared hiding her face, she slid out of her cloak revealing a plain black dress that was un-shapely and equally unflattering. It looked old and beaten as though she was wearing a relic. The sight did nothing to help Pansy's confusion.

Tracey backed away and Pansy watched as darkness swallowed her. Pansy tried to take in what she could of her surroundings, all she could manage in the darkness was to look up to see the tree line against the dark sky, she was in a small clearing. Eerily she noticed how she had been stood in moonlight seconds ago, the thin undergrowth of the forest allowing the field of night light to spill through and now, it was gone. Then a fear hit her, she was in the Forbidden Forrest, she couldn't see, and she was alone. Panic threatened to take hold of her and as it did, reason coughed in the back of her head, announcing its presence. It reminded her that she had been brought here by Tracey, and she trusted the girl completely. She took a moment to control her breathing.

Then came a murmuring of gentle dissonant whispering in the air, it was low and unrecognisable but still there as it chorused around her. A hiss of sound rang out as a flame ignited in the centre of the clearing; her surroundings suddenly alighted in a spectrum of Livid green light from the coloured flame. Taking a step forward she saw a low, wide tree stump where atop sat an ancient looking skull. The flame, she saw came from inside the scull where it burnt brightly, illuminating her as the light spilled from the eye sockets.

Pansy heard a muttering of words. Loud enough that it just drowned out the whispering voices. Again, she couldn't make out what any of it was, but this was a new voice. It put her in mind that this voice was from the here and now, and the whispering was from long ago, another chill ran through her. When she heard the voice again the small flames became more intense and grew brighter. As the light grew Pansy was able to take in more. Hard to miss now was a prominent old moss-covered Rune stone that she could see was the true centre piece of wherever this clearing was. It stood adjacent to the old stump. It looked unremarkable and battered, warped by time. Pansy noticed it resembled a small dais like basin as was carved into the top.

Then quite out of nowhere she had to still her thundering heart as she realised, she was surrounded by four figures. They hadn't appeared as much as she'd only just noticed them silhouetted in the black. Again, reason saved her nerves as it reassured her it had to be Tracey and the girls; it didn't stop her clutching her wand tightly. More light flickered and it allowed her to make out that they all wore the same bland old dresses that covered them from neck to ankle, their faces covered in black vails.

The tallest stepped forward, Pansy could make out Harrier's figure, her long blond hair was now up in a tight bun. All the girls, from what Pansy could make out seemed to be purposely simple and plain. The only item of note that separated them and kept Harrier apart was her necklace that so often drew Pansy's eyes to her neck. Pansy had to rub her eyes and squint in the darkness as she took in what she was seeing. The piece of jewellery, that desperately beautiful black and silvered carved necklace that perfectly formed a snake, was no longer an inanimate item that sat gleaming with its emerald eyes. It was now moving of its own accord, it slithered across her throat slowly, repeatedly as it tangled around her neck. The pale orb that she was so used to see it coiled around, dangling along with its head like a beautiful pendant down towards her chest was now balancing on the snake's tail as it slithered back and forth across her jugular.

Harrier took another step towards her, Pansy's eyes had never left the snake in fascination, now found Harrier's, they burned in the acid light. Now fixated on them she struggled to focus on everything that was there to take in. Transfixed, she watched as Harrier stopped in front of her and lifted her delicate hands, hovering before her. Pansy took them in hers as Harrier turned hers over to look at her palms. She eyed them for a moment then fixed her gaze on Pansy. There was a low and threat worthy hiss that escaped Harrier's lips, it made the hairs on Pansy's neck stand on end when she heard it. Her eyes widened as she saw the snakes head look up at Harrier. Realisation hit Pansy with a shudder, Harrier was speaking Parceltongue.

There was another hiss, this time Pansy recognised it as English, "are you frightened?" Harrier asked with a whisper.

Pansy couldn't look away from Harrier's beautiful piercing eyes, "no", she was surprised to hear herself answer. She was aware her brain had stopped working and she hadn't thought to speak. She would have thought that, had she had the wherewithal to answer she'd have said 'yes'. She was terrified. Then in that same instance she realised she had answered honestly, she wasn't frightened at all. She was running on adrenaline for the first time, it made her feel sick, but she liked it. She trusted that whatever this was, she was safe with them, and no, she was right, she absolutely wasn't frightened.

"What do you fear the most?", Harrier's voice was a distant whisper on the wind to her ears.

"Being alone, unloved", Pansy breathed, again she was barely aware she was speaking.

"If we offered you nothing and gave you the chance to leave, would you take it?"

Pansy shook her head, unsure if she could run if she tried. She was again aware she didn't want to run, but it was odd to feel safe and paralysis at the same time.

"And if we offered you a family, would you bleed for us?".

"I would", she managed.

Harrier again whispered, this time a hiss and again Pansy recognised it as Parceltongue. The snake, which seemed to be listening to Harrier and watching Pansy intently, wound its way from around Harrier's neck and slithered down to her arm. There it crossed over to pansy's where it encircled both hers and Harrier's hands together. Pansy wasn't afraid of snakes, but at the current moment she was frozen by it. "And If I asked for blood, would you offer it willingly, would you give it?"

Pansy's eyes still hadn't left Harriers, "I would".

Harrier whispered again in Parceltongue, this time it was a harsh hiss, eye's narrowed as she ordered down at the snake. It looked up at her and as if nodding to her it hissed back in acknowledgment before striking down and embedding its fangs into Pansy's palm.

Pansy let out a pained yelp that she realised was from the shock, because there was no pain even with the snake biting into her. Blood pooled around its mouth, but still she felt nothing. The snake released her and slithered up Pansy's arm and around her own neck. There it pulled back as it lifted its small head to stare into her eyes. Completely dumbfounded that a piece of jewellery was wrapped around her neck and now staring into her soul, Pansy still couldn't move. It remained for a moment and then retreated back across her wrist, making its way to Harrier who accepted it back and lifted it to her own neck. Taking its place where it appeared most comfortable, it continued to encircle the girls throat as before, the two never ceasing in there hissing conversation.

Finally, after what felt like an age Harrier's face softened as it stopped and lifted its little head to the girls ear, "he likes you", she smiled, "I believe he's accepted you".