#Chapter 67
#Curse and Blessing

Almost two weeks go by without him even glancing at me. He spends most of his time unseen, in silence – and due to his self-imposed exclusion watching him duel, to spot movement patterns before certain maneuvers, hence fails spectacularly as well.
I'd imagined it all a bit easier …

Everyone in the camp is simply in his delusion's nirvana, there is nothing to do, to achieve, nothing to talk about – and Grindelwald himself seems to know least of all what he's up to.
And this is supposed to be his revolution …

Apart from that, I avoid Edwin, and he knows it. I'm sure he does, but as long as I don't run into him, he can't prove anything.

So I just lie here in another day's cold twilight, on an uncomfortable cot, sleepless as ever, trapped in my running thoughts for the time being.

We were, however, lucky in one respect. Thanks to Queenie, no one here mistrusted us enough to put us in separate tents. We were able to keep to ourselves right from the start. A few protective spells later, we were finally able to discuss how incredibly inconvenient I found it that I supposedly attended the Koldovstoretz despite not speaking Russian. How the soldiers paradoxically saved our situation and almost, but only almost, I mentioned that Edwin gave me a a headache.

But I haven't mentioned that connection to Harper. And still I just close my eyes and concentrate on what's important.
I need a plan. How are we all going to get out of here alive and with answers before I run out of Polyjuice Potion?

"How much do we have left?"

"Not much at all, Vivian," I repeat. "Maybe it's a sign. Maybe I should just walk into his tent and –"

"He'll coming to you," Queenie protests. "I'm sure of it. As mad as he's been the last few days, our words are working in him. He'll set out for Godric's Hollow with you, I just know it."

"You've been saying that for eight days," I grumble. "And as much as I'd love to eat your goulash forever –"

"Tom's already got quite a healthy complexion," Vivian chortles.

"At last the boy's eating properly," Queenie agrees.

"Something needs to happen," I say and sit up to glance at the ladies. "We don't have much time left."

"Well, you should already be back in school," Vivian says in mock concern. "I wonder what your teachers think about you just dropping off the face of the earth …"

"That's by far the least of our worries!"

Vivian snorts. "Don't say that – at Beauxbatons I would have been expelled."

"I would've gotten at least six months of detention at Ilvermorny." Queenie smiles, letting her magic fill a washbowl with water.

"Tom, would you –"

"Look away?" I sigh and turn over on my cot. "Sure, provided there's a heads-up …"

"A heads-up?" Vivian asks, impatient by the very notion. "Don't be cheeky, kid, my clothes were wet and the other day you really were in the wrong place at the wrong time!"

I protest, "How was I supposed to know that your clothes were wet?"

"Oh, doesn't really matter anyway, it's not like the world hasn't long seen me dance for the Windmill Theatre …"

"Viv," Queenie rebukes with a giggle, "it'll be your fault if that gives the boy some of them ideas …"

"It can hardly get worse than thinking about a Horcrux," she snaps. "And he's of age, and certainly no saint …"

"Not in the eyes of a saint," I dully reply.

"Tell me," Queenie is abrupt to change the subject, sounding a little wistful, "what do you miss, being so far away from home?"

The immediate thought of Harper, her laughter, her lips, her silhouette and her ever-amused eye roll gives me a strange twinge. My stomach tightens as though I've forgotten something terribly important, and at the same time I feel unbearably warm.
Her soft touch on my cold skin was probably the most carefree moment of my life.
Free from guilt, far from conventions, a synergy of her light and my darkness that for once let me breathe a sigh of relief, as if the very veil that had overshadowed my entire life was being lifted.
Nothing has ever been more right.
Nothing has ever been more wrong …

"I miss Jim, that old grumpy man," Vivian sighs.

"I miss my Jacob." One can literally hear Queenie's pain. "And Tina. But I miss her when I'm in England, too … Now you, Tom. Who do you miss?"

"No one."

"That's a lie!" Queenie claims and, judging by the noise, starts to powder her face. "Everyone misses someone."

"I'm not everyone."

Queenie groans. "Stop it! Like I didn't see it when we first shook hands, Tom! Tell us about her already!"

"Her?" Vivian is quick to repeat, giggling in awe. "Oh, do tell us!"

"There's nothing to tell –"

Queenie obviously disagrees, turning to Vivian. "So she's a Ravenclaw –"

"No way," Vivian gloats, "a Raven?"

"The images in Tom's head were adorable, Viv," Queenie gushes, "the two of them reading and studying and kissing and –"

"Goldstein, bloody hell!" I groan in exasperation, and yet I'm ignored.

"What does she look like? Come on, Queenie!"

"Blonde hair –"

"Oh, Tom," Vivian purrs, all touched, "have you been looking for a Shirley?"

"Faye," I languidly correct. "Her name was Faye. And no – things turned out very differently –"

Suddenly we hear something rustling on the floor – Vivian flinches, thunderstruck, jumping straight to the other end of the tent.

"Viv, what is it?" Queenie asks, startled as well.

"Giant snake," Vivian mumbles as her phobia takes a firm hold of her – goose bumps are clearly visible down her forearms.

"Where have you been all this time?" I immediately ask Nagini as she wriggles onto my cot. "We thought you'd gone missing …"

She wraps herself around my arm, soon around my neck too, as I sit up, then she hisses, "I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"Did you make any progress?" she asks instead of giving me an answer.

I sigh. "We're still alive, aren't we?"

"Yes," she hisses, "but for how much longer? Even if you get your answers – Queenie and Vivian will be in danger if you disappear soon after."

I nod. That's what I had on my mind for a couple of days as well. But getting that far just seemed unlikely anyway …

"You have to die," Nagini whispers.

"In theory, we all have to at some point," I somewhat agree. "Hence the Horcrux –"

"He must believe you're dead – you know it as well as I do. Vivian and Queenie have to take your supposedly dead body home to bury it. It's the only way they can get out of here safely …"

"Brilliant – so you suggest I just drop dead."

"You're going to make me sick if you keep hissing like that," Vivian complains in disgust. "Stop it!"

"I got inspired in the forest," Nagini claims.

"Pray tell …"

But she doesn't whisper.

Out of the blue, she bites into my thigh – and, damn it, her jaws are truly powerful. There's even a bit of blood, unpleasantly reminding me of Morfin.

I'm all too distracted by this very thought when Queenie rushes to my me, only half-dressed and hectic.

"No!" she shouts, lost for breath. "Nagini! What have you done?" Her panic becomes visible, and even Vivian, despite her disgust, rushes to my side to cup my face in her hands.

"Tom? Tom! Look at me! She's highly toxic, you mustn't fall asleep now!"

Nagini stays right where she is, her sublime gaze in mine.

I've never been more awake. Shortly before death, life should hardly be full of surprise and adrenaline … There can be no antidote for a snake like Nagini. But I've never felt better.

"Oh, Tom," Vivian whimpers, shaking her head in grief already. "What are we supposed to do? Nagini, help us! What's gotten into you?"

I just look up at the tent ceiling, as if in a trance.
Because – nothing is happening, no matter how frightened Queenie and Vivian seem to be.

"How quickly does her poison kill?" I ask simply.

Vivian swallows. "I've seen it twice. A minute, hardly more …"

"Oh, good heavens," Queenie mumbles. "No, no, that can't be, we … we need to do something!"

I can feel the bite marks, and their consequence – blood – on my leg does indeed seem to justify concern.

But as I stare down at myself and time passes uneventfully, I exchange glances with Nagini yet again and nod, shrugging my shoulders.

"That's a good way to die," I finally agree.

"Without calling death," she replies, inching closer again.

"Still, a warning would've been nice," I inform her. "And I probably would've given you a finger, not my leg, but –"

"Then we wouldn't have known if it was just the small amount of poison," she whispers.

I nod and stroke her head, all while Queenie and Vivian look at each other, more and more pale and completely overwhelmed.

"What's going on?"

"I'm immune to her poison," I say matter-of-factly, although I'm quite surprised about that myself.

"I'm sure you're also immune to her gaze," Nagini whispers.

Immune to the look that kills?
The glance from yellow eyes?

"How did you know –"

"You're Slytherin's heir," she hisses, "it was a guess."

I can't help but grin. "Head you live, tail you die? For science?"

She nods and nuzzles my neck. "I knew you wouldn't be mad."

"I don't understand any of it," Vivian grumbles, "but I don't want to any longer. Thank you for the nightmares of the next twenty years!"