Chapter 16 – Birthdays and Deathdays
Angelina caught the sunlight as she twisted on her broom, catching a forward pass from Alicia. She swerved to avoid Harry, their makeshift defender, before leaning to the side as a bludger from Fred whistled past her shoulder.
She resisted the temptation to speed ahead as Harry lagged behind, letting her teammates catch up. A lobbed pass made its way to Katie as Angelina made a 'V' with her fingers, and pointed it forward: the signal for a Hawkshead decoy. The younger chaser took the head of the triangle but passed the quaffle back under the cover of scarlet robes. Angelina caught the ball and tucked it under her left arm before slotting into the gap in Katie's right flank.
Alicia lagged behind, obscuring Angelina's possession from Harry.
The seeker had slowed down to dodge the bludger and could only watch as the girls triple-teamed Oliver. Angelina watched the keeper as she crisscrossed with Alicia and flew to the left hoop, the quaffle still obscured by her body. Oliver glanced at Katie, expecting her to have the ball.
Angelina grinned and switched the quaffle into her throwing hand. Oliver's head snapped to her the second the scarlet ball was in his field of vision. She made the shot, and to his credit, Oliver managed to block it with the tips of his fingers. In his surprise, he overextended, flying farther than he'd intended. From there, it was all too easy for Katie to pass the rebounding quaffle to Alicia, who sent it through the hoop effortlessly.
"That's a risky play," Oliver commented as he signalled the team to hit the ground. "Carrying the quaffle in your off-hand that long. One slip-up and it's the easiest steal the other team will ever get."
"I suppose we'll have to try it in a game to know," Angelina shrugged as she descended with him in tow. "It might be risky, but I don't think the play is bad…"
"Never said it was," Oliver smiled as he hit the ground. "Nice ploy, using Katie as a decoy. I noticed most of our midfield fakes end with her getting the final possession. Good to know you're on top of it."
Angelina grinned as the wet grass squelched under her feet. "I can't take full credit. She was the one to notice, actually."
"Really?" Oliver's eyebrows shot up. "I didn't know she paid attention to our macro strategy like that."
She snorted. "She doesn't. She felt bad that she scored most of our points and that Alicia and I didn't get as much playtime in the goal box."
He shook his head fondly. "That sounds more like her."
Angelina nodded airily. She tossed a limp bludger to Oliver, who caught it and strapped it into its box. Harry ran up to them, snitch in hand. He deposited it in the box at Oliver's feet before running off to join Alicia and Katie by the water jugs.
She didn't miss the frown that crossed Oliver's face at Harry's retreating form. She, too, frowned. Oliver knew what was going on with Harry. Alicia hadn't even told her yet, but she told him?
She bristled a little at that. She thought Alicia hadn't said anything because it was private. But if Oliver knew, why couldn't she?
What's next? Fred and George were in on the secret, and she wasn't?
Oliver and the twins exchanged a grim look.
Oh, these Machiavellian little shits.
Angelina stuffed down the rising frustration and tried her best to sound nonchalant.
"Speaking of trying new things, what happened to the scrimmage business? Did Flint curse you out of the room after Katie socked Malfoy?"
"Nah," Oliver shook his head. "Hartley got Flint onboard somehow, but she threw the scheduling onto me. I've been dying trying to work around all these practices. I thought scheduling a team practice was bad, but scheduling four at once is impossible."
Angelina winced. "Ouch, good luck. I'd like to get a scrim at least before our first game. Maybe try out the Hawkshead decoy."
"That's what you're calling it?"
"I suppose. You got any better ideas?"
Oliver held up his hands in surrender. "Nope. You made it, you name it."
She snorted, and the two sped up to catch the rest of their team.
One hot shower and trek to Gryffindor Tower later, Angelina sprawled into one of the plush armchairs with a contented sigh. Her strained, taut muscles relaxed as she sank into the soft, upholstered cushions.
"I'm going to die," Alicia groaned as she fell into the chair beside Angelina. "Oliver is going to end up killing me one day. Or I'm going to kill him."
"Today wasn't that bad," Angelina argued. Alicia made a rude gesture.
"Of course, you'd think that," she rolled her eyes. "Your mum probably used a quaffle as a dummy. Bloody fanatic."
"Merlin, you're so overdramatic," Angelina laughed.
"I hate you so much," Alicia grumbled. Angelina looked over to find the smaller girl sunk so low into the cushions that she was completely hidden from view. "My arm is still sore from that stupid bludger. I'm going to kill George."
Angelina snorted and looked over at the twins. They were huddled at a side table, not too far from the girls. That itself was not unusual. What was, however, was the second year sitting with them, rapidly chattering away.
Angelina glanced warily at the three before turning to Alicia.
"What are those three up to? Nothing good, surely."
Alicia rose from her half-lying, half-sitting position just long enough to glance at the conspicuous gathering. She spoke as she fell back into her chair. "Nah. Harry and the twins have been a lot closer since the summer."
Her answer was short and succinct, but Angelina had the niggling feeling she got when someone made an inside reference that only she didn't get. She frowned, though Alicia couldn't see.
"Ladies," Oliver greeted as he dropped onto the couch opposite them. He raised an eyebrow at Angelina's perturbed expression. She shook her head, and he nodded imperceptibly. "Good practice, eh?"
"I'll kill you," Alicia raised an arm menacingly before dropping it to her side with a pitiful moan. "Later."
"I'll hold you to that," Oliver's lip quirked, and Angelina shook her head exasperatedly.
"What's that for?" Alicia, having sat up, nodded at the stack of parchment Oliver was carrying.
"These," he slapped the top of the stack with a grimace. "Are all the timetables of every Quidditch player at Hogwarts, including pre-existing team practice schedules."
He sifted through the stack before pulling out a handful. "This is us."
"You have to sort through all of that?" Angelina asked, horror etched on her face.
Oliver nodded solemnly. "Yup. And I've got to come up with scrimmage times that somehow work for all these people."
"Merlin," Alicia winced. "Good luck."
Oliver flipped her off.
"Where's Katie?" Oliver asked, surveying the common room for the third year.
"She went searching for Hermione," Alicia said. "She said she was going to, and I quote, 'drag her out of the library, kicking and screaming.'"
Alicia made air quotes, and Oliver's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline.
"Since when is Katie such good friends with Harry's little gang?"
Alicia shrugged. "Since the summer, I suppose. She and Hermione ran into each other on a camping trip, and I guess they bonded over worrying about Harry's mail embargo."
Angelina snorted. "Granger is best friends with two boys; she was probably desperate for a girl to talk to."
"True," Alicia nodded solemnly. "If I were friends with only boys, I think I would go insane."
"Hey!" Oliver chimed. "We're not that bad."
Alicia and Angelina gave him identical unimpressed looks, and he flipped them off with both hands. A gesture they returned with wide grins.
Silence settled over the trio as the older boy returned to his mountain of busy work. Angelina closed her eyes for what felt like a moment that quickly became a shallow slumber.
She woke with a start as a heavy mass was thrown into her lap. She found it to be an unfamiliar rucksack.
"Morgana's knickers, is the entire library in here?" She hefted the bag and saw a contrite Hermione Granger standing before her, next to a grinning Katie Bell.
"I'm so sorry! Katie took my bag. I hope you weren't hurt," Granger rambled, hurriedly pulling the bag from her grasp.
"I'm alright," Angelina mumbled blearily. "What happened?"
"Well, I found Hermione wasting away in the library," Katie said, and the second year glared at her.
"I wasn't wasting away, I was studying!"
"Hermione," Katie said slowly, her voice dripping with condescension. "There's no reason for you to be making exam study schedules in October."
Granger crossed her arms and glared at Katie like a tiger ready to tear apart anything between her and her prey. Angelina made a mental note never to come between the bushy-haired girl and her books. "We have midterms in December."
"Which is two months away," Katie deadpanned. "Not to mention – do you even know what's on the exam?"
Hermione opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. She was saved from responding by Harry choosing that moment to plop into the seat next to Oliver.
"Hermione, it's a Saturday morning. We did all our homework last night. Just relax for a bit, will you?"
Hermione huffed. "Well, I was bored," she whined petulantly.
"And your choice of pastime is studying?" Angelina asked, horrified.
"You were making schedules?" Oliver piped up before a red-faced Hermione spontaneously combusted. She nodded primly. "Are you any good?"
"She made me and Ron study schedules for our exams last year," Harry added.
"Ron and I," Hermione and Katie corrected in tandem before grinning at each other. Harry made a face at them.
"There are two of you now?" he groaned. "As I was saying, she even made me another one once I got out of the hospital wing last Spring."
"Perfect. Do you think you could help me schedule Quidditch practices?"
Hermione blinked. "Pardon?"
"Remember, the four Quidditch captains agreed to practice against each other? You were there when we were talking about it."
"Wait, really?" Harry exclaimed. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"
"Cause Oliver told everyone on the train," Alicia interjected. "The train that you weren't on."
Harry flushed. "Oh yeah, I forgot about that."
"How do you forget about taking a ruddy flying car to school and crashing it into the Whomping Willow?" Angelina asked dryly.
Harry made a rude gesture, which had the older girls snickering. Their laughter only doubled at Hermione's scandalised look.
"Anyway," Oliver rolled his eyes. "The teams are holding scrimmages, and it's come down to me to schedule them. Except I'm rubbish at all this organising business."
"And you want me to – what – make the schedules for you?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.
"Essentially, yes," he nodded. "I could talk to McGonagall – get you a fancy title – Hogwarts Quidditch Manager or summat. It'll look nice on your resume, I'm sure. Plus, it gives you something to do that isn't studying."
Hermione worried her lip between her teeth. "Could I have a look?"
Oliver eagerly handed her the Gryffindor schedules.
"Is this your team?" She asked, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline as she sifted through the sheaf of parchment. Oliver nodded, and Harry winced.
"PRACTICE THREE TIMES A WEEK?"
Harry sank back into his chair with a groan.
"Three practices a week is inhumane!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking the parchment aggressively. "That's three days of the week that you're completely exhausted, and that's not even mentioning the next morning. How are your players supposed to be productive in classes? When are they supposed to study?"
She ranted for another minute or so. Angelina promptly tuned her out, though it was amusing to watch Oliver sink lower and lower into his seat as a twelve-year-old girl berated him on how to run his team.
"To be fair," Harry chimed in, shaking off Hermione's heated gaze with practised ease. "Oliver's only holding three practices a week because we have a game coming up. He usually only holds two a week, with only one the month before exams, and cancels them altogether during prep week. We're not getting worked to death, 'Mione. All of us are there because we want to be."
"Speak for yourself, Potter," Alicia called, wiping imaginary sweat off her brow. "I'm getting worked to death out here."
Harry glared at her, and she gave him an impish grin in return.
"Oh," Hermione said, sounding out of breath. Which made sense, since Angelina was certain the second year hadn't breathed that whole tirade. "Why didn't you just say that then?"
Oliver just stared at her, slack-jawed.
"Does that mean you're in?"
"Get me that title from McGonagall, and we have a deal."
A beat of silence passed in their little corner of the common room. No one had batted an eye at Hermione's tirade. They were common enough, and most assumed it was directed at Harry.
Angelina surveyed the room. Oliver looked shell-shocked, and Harry was watching the whole interaction with amusement. Alicia was silently snickering, and Katie stood behind Hermione with wide eyes and puffed cheeks in an abominable cross between pure awe and suppressed hysteria.
She looked so bloody stupid.
Then, her roving gaze met Angelina's.
The dam broke, and the two girls exploded into raucous laughter. Alicia forwent her silent amusement to match them, and even Hermione quirked a smile.
As the weeks passed, Angelina's frustration with her friends only mounted. As the end of October drew nearer, her friends only became more and more cryptic. Something told her it was a different secret this time around, partially because Katie and Harry, too, seemed to be in on it, and they seemed more nervous – excited, perhaps, compared to the grim looks the others had shared during the prior weeks.
Angelina hated feeling like an outsider. It reminded her too much of her childhood. Growing up, she had been the girl who would rather play Quidditch than dress up. But the boys monopolised the skies, forcing her to watch more than she ever got to fly. Being out of the loop like this reminded her of the cruel names the children of Godric's Hollow had called her behind her back.
She tried to remind herself that Alicia and her friends weren't cruel like that. "I'm sure they have good reasons," was a mantra that she found herself repeating often.
Still, insecurity was wearing away at that faith.
She was in the library with Alicia, who, for some reason, had insisted on finishing up their Charms essay that was due next week. Why she had picked that day of all days, Angelina didn't know.
Because that day in particular was Angelina's birthday.
The day had started out rather hectic. Alicia had woken her up with a pillow aimed to the head. Her excited yells quickly turned to shrieks as Angelina woke up enough to tackle her to the ground, wrest the pillow from her grasp, and give her a taste of her own medicine.
Their dorm mate, Patricia Stimpson, watched them with amusement. "Happy Birthday," she grinned as she walked out the door. "You might want to get a move on; I doubt Snape will care that it's your birthday."
"What time is it?" Alicia called from the floor.
"Three-quarters to eight," Patricia called from the stairs.
Angelina swore loudly. The two girls scrambled to get ready for the day. They barely made it to breakfast with time to grab a croissant before dashing to the dungeons. The day had been pure chaos, and Angelina hadn't had the opportunity to even speak to any of her close friends – the likes of Oliver and Katie. That they hadn't been at lunch had struck her as odd.
After classes, Alicia insisted on finishing their charms essay that had been assigned that day. Angelina's protests of "but we only got them today" fell on deaf ears. So, the birthday girl spent most of her special day in the library.
Fun.
Around three hours before curfew, Alicia peeked at her watch before standing up abruptly. "I've got to use the loo; be right back," she rambled before darting out of the library. Angelina raised an eyebrow, trying to shake the feeling that she'd just been ditched.
She sighed and returned to her work, though her thoughts were more focused on her friends' peculiar behaviour than on the intricacies of the summoning charm.
"Hey, Johnson."
Angelina looked up to see Summers, the Hufflepuff captain, standing before her.
"Summers, right? What can I do for you?"
"Uh – Oliver asked me to tell you to come down to pitch. Apparently, he has an idea for a defensive formation that simply cannot wait. I don't know the specifics, though, for obvious reasons." Summers grinned, and Angelina snorted.
"I imagine that would defeat the entire purpose, yes," she said as she shoved her things into her bag. She then noticed that Alicia had taken her pack with her – so much for a bathroom break. She hid her frown behind her long, black braids.
"I'll admit," Summers said as she handed Angelina a quill off the floor. She muttered a thanks as the older girl watched her pack. "I am a little curious about the things Oliver cooks up. He's certainly the most Quidditch-crazed person I know."
Angelina nodded. "He's a little fanatical, even for me, and I eat, sleep, and breathe Quidditch. Some of his ideas are just insane."
"Like getting a second year to schedule practices for the entire school league?" Summers said with a sly smile. Angelina laughed.
"Exactly like that, but somehow, his ideas tend to work out," she shrugged. "He's insane, but there's a little bit of genius in there, too. It's definitely easier being vocal when I know my wildest ideas will appear tame in comparison to some of his schemes. I think that's why we make a good team. I temper the insanity just enough to make things realistic, and he helps me be bolder with my ideas."
Summers hummed. "And would you say that you two are close?"
Angelina shrugged. "I suppose. We're teammates and friends. Not nearly as close as I am with Alicia, but I'd say we trust each other."
Bitterness had crept into her voice without her bidding. She shook her head surreptitiously and put on a sharp smile. "Why? Staking out the competition?"
Summers coughed loudly. "What?"
"Nothing," Angelina grinned impishly. "Just for your information, Oliver is the team's big brother. That's how I see him, and that's how Alicia sees him. Just for your information, of course."
Summers nodded jerkily, and Angelina threw her rucksack over her shoulder before heading for the exit. "Good talk. See you around, Summers."
The older girl could only wave as she walked past. Angelina snickered all the way to the Entrance Hall.
She pushed open the great doors to the grounds and shuddered as her day robes were battered against the rolling Scottish winds. She rubbed her arms as she half-jogged to the Quidditch pitch, cursing Oliver out the entire way.
Angelina ran to the changing rooms. She closed the door, wringing her hands to shoo the cold away. She blew warm air into her palms as she turned around, before gasping and nearly falling over in surprise.
"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team was crowded in the middle of their locker room, decorated with golden streamers and red balloons. A scarlet banner with 'Happy Birthday Angelina!' emblazoned in shimmering yellow hung over the door to the captain's office.
Angelina just stared as her brain caught up to the scene before her.
"Merlin's shiny bald spot, what the hell is this?" she guffawed as Katie, wearing a silly, conical hat painted red with gold stripes, forced an identical hat on her head. She reflexively adjusted the elastic string that secured it so it wouldn't press against her neck.
"We're trying to figure that out ourselves," George said mournfully, pulling grumpily at his hat. "George and I were abducted against our wills."
At the same time, Fred cried. "Save us, Angelina, we're being held hostage!"
Alicia reached out and whacked them both over the back of the head. The twins let out a dramatic yelp that had Angelina rolling her eyes.
"Sorry for running out on you," Alicia said sheepishly. "I was in charge of getting the cake from the kitchen, and I kind of forgot. I told them I was the worst person for distraction duty, but they wouldn't listen."
Angelina shook her head in disbelief. She stepped deeper into the room, drinking in her surroundings. She revelled in the warmth that filled her chest, which was entirely unrelated to the magical heating that kept out the autumn chill.
"So, this is why you lot have been acting shifty all week?" She looked at the spindly table in the middle of the room. Upon it was a German chocolate cake with swirly red frosting. In the centre, written with strawberry jam, were the words "Don't bother making a wish, nothing gets better than your best friend."
Alicia caught her looking. "That was my idea," she grinned.
"I assumed as much," Angelina said drolly. "Katie wouldn't be so bigheaded."
"She does have a tiny head," Alicia said sagely.
"My head is perfectly normal-sized, thank you very much," Katie said sternly, though her mouth was set in a wide grin.
Angelina made a show of splaying her fingers before grabbing Katie's head. The younger girl squealed, batting her away as her hair was mussed up.
"I spent a whole five minutes doing my hair for you, and this is how you repay me?" Katie pouted.
"Wow, you must've put a lot of planning into this party if you want so far as to run a comb through that rat's nest of yours," Angelina snarked.
"Hey! My hair's not that bad. At least not as bad as Harry's."
The raven-haired boy snacked on a pumpkin pasty as he watched the exchange with amusement. He started at the mention of his name. "Leave me out of this," Harry said dryly. "Uncle Vernon always said never to comment on a woman's appearance."
Angelina caught a shadow as it momentarily flickered over Alicia's countenance. She swallowed the knot that formed in her throat.
I'm sure they have a good reason.
She grinned wide. "Well, did he also have a thing for leaving perfectly good cake uneaten?"
Harry shook his head with a small grin. "No, the cake wouldn't have lasted this long if he were here."
"In that case," Angelina rubbed her hands together. "Let's make like your Uncle Vernon and demolish this cake, shall we?"
Katie watched as the small party devolved into chaos. The twins had got the elves to make a second, decoy cake that they'd rigged with a tiny explosive that covered Angelina from head to toe in shredded coconut and buttercream frosting. After chasing the twins around for good measure, Angelina had dipped into the showers to get cleaned up while Oliver cast scourgify on her robes.
Katie sat on her usual bench, going to town on a large slice of rich chocolate cake. A piece of coconut lodged itself in her teeth, and she picked at it with her fork.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" Angelina asked, a smile dancing on her lips as she sat down next to her. The older girl's hair was still damp, and she was dressed in her Quidditch jersey.
"Coconut. Got stuck," Katie managed with a fork in her mouth. "Got it!"
"Nice," Angelina said, leaning back against the wall. She and Katie watched the twins goad Oliver into doing a somersault. "Thanks for all this, by the way. Alicia told me it was your idea."
Katie gave Angelina a wide grin and poked at her birthday hat. Angelina yelped.
"You're welcome," Katie chirped. "You seemed a little down lately; I thought you could use some cheering up. Plus, birthdays don't exactly happen often, do they?"
"No, they don't," Angelina agreed. The older girl hummed to herself as she tore into a slice of her birthday cake.
Katie watched the rest of the party in silence. Harry was huddled in a corner with the twins, who seemed to be goading him into something. Near the captain's office, Alicia and Oliver had their heads together in tense conversation.
"Do you get the feeling there's something the rest of the team is keeping from us?" Angelina asked coolly, and Katie looked at her critically.
"You've noticed it too?" She confirmed, and Angelina's forehead creased slightly. Katie sighed. "I didn't want to say anything – none of my business, you know?"
Angelina hummed noncommittally.
"Maybe it's got something to do with someone we don't know," Katie suggested feebly. "Maybe it's about some stranger, so we weren't told."
"Someone that Oliver, Alicia, and the twins know, that we don't," Angelina said nonplussed. "That's an empty list, right there."
Katie shrugged helplessly with a wry grin. Angelina shook her head with a matching smile.
"Besides, I'm certain whatever they're whispering about has to do with Harry."
Katie cocked her head to the side, a thoughtful expression across her features. "What makes you say that?"
Angelina jerked her chin towards Oliver and Alicia. The third chaser was speaking heatedly to her captain. They kept glancing at Harry's turned back. Katie's lip curled downward.
"What's he up to now?" Katie said, feeling more confused than angry. She'd learned her lesson last year and was making a conscious effort to refrain from jumping to conclusions.
"No idea, but he doesn't seem to be in on their conversations," Angelina said, her eyes calculating as she gazed upon her best friend, captain, and youngest teammate. "Rather, he's the subject."
Katie's frown grew steeper. "If something was wrong with Harry, they'd tell us, right? If he needed help?"
Angelina nodded. "They know that if there was anything we could do to help, we would do it. I'm sure they'd tell us."
She didn't know who she was convincing, Katie or herself. Either way, it wasn't particularly effective.
The two girls sat in silence, each lost in thought. Katie wanted to just go up to Harry and ask him what the hell was going on. But she held back because she didn't want a repeat of last year. She would let Harry come and tell her when he was ready.
If there was something she could do to help, she would trust him to ask.
That's what friends do, right? Trust each other?
While her mind wandered, she watched absently as Harry approached Alicia and Oliver's sombre discussion, which ceased abruptly at his approach. In the back of her mind, Katie filed that away as confirmation that Harry wasn't privy to whatever secret they were discussing. That only made her more curious.
What kind of secret did they have that Harry was involved with, but not a keeper of?
He carried two heaping plates of chocolate cake that he handed to Oliver and Alicia. They thanked him before picking up their forks. Katie knew from Harry's subtle step backwards that chaos was imminent.
She bit the inside of her cheek to prevent a smile as she watched her teammates sink their forks into their slices, which promptly exploded in their faces with a loud BANG.
Oliver's short brown hair was flecked with coconut and chocolate frosting, and his face was a mixture of shock and hilarity. Alicia had been covered in frosting and cake in such a way that Katie had a good idea of what the older girl would look like with a lumberjack beard and a unibrow. The fourth year let out a low growl.
"You're so dead, Potter," Alicia said quietly, her eyes filled with a dangerous gleam. The second year blanched and broke into a sprint, hiding behind Katie and Angelina, who promptly stood and moved out of the way.
"Traitors," Harry glared. Katie just smiled sweetly.
He tried to sidestep around them to evade a rapidly approaching Alicia but slipped on some smeared frosting before falling on his arse.
"Got you, you little shit," Alicia said triumphantly as she caught up to the twelve-year-old.
"Let's talk about this," Harry tried, but Alicia gave him a feral grin before snatching Katie's half-eaten plate from her hands ("Hey!") and shoving it into Harry's face.
"I was going to eat that!" Katie whined between her laughter as the dark-haired pre-teen lay spread-eagled on the floor with an overturned plate of chocolate cake covering his face. Alicia rolled her eyes.
"The cake isn't going anywhere – just go get another slice," she deadpanned.
"It's about the principle," Katie argued.
"I can't blame you," Harry's muffled voice came from the floor, his features still obscured by the dinnerware. "This cake is fantastic"
"House-elves really outdid themselves," Oliver agreed as he watched Harry with a raised eyebrow. The plate wiggled on Harry's face as the boy licked it clean. "You getting up anytime soon, Potter?"
"I might have a nap," Harry replied.
Katie smirked. She turned to Angelina.
"You can't tell me you've had a more eventful birthday at Hogwarts."
"No," Angelina shook her head with a broad grin. "This definitely takes the cake."
The entire team groaned in unison; even Harry's tinny voice joined them from under the plate.
"You're horrible, Angelina," Katie declared with a playful scowl.
The older girl just grinned wider.
The day was Halloween, and Harry was in a foul mood. This would be his first Halloween since he became a Chosen – since he met and lost his mother a second time.
It made the anniversary of his parents' deaths hurt that much more.
He hadn't wanted to get out of bed that morning, but it had been Ron, of all people, who dragged him out.
"We've still got classes, mate," he said. "If you don't get up, Hermione will kill you for skipping, then kill me for letting you."
Such a sound argument had never been made, and Harry grudgingly got dressed and made his way to the Great Hall. He wasn't feeling particularly social and definitely didn't want to be treated like glass by his friends, read: Alicia, so he grabbed an apple before slipping out.
The apple remained uneaten, and Harry wandered the halls under his invisibility cloak, which had become a permanent fixture inside his rucksack.
At one point, he came across a fellow wanderer in one Ginny Weasley. Normally, he would've said hi to Ron's little sister, but he wasn't in a personable mood, and she didn't seem lost, so he stayed under his cloak.
He wondered what she was doing on the second floor when it was far too early to be out for classes. His curiosity was sated when she turned into a girls' lavatory.
The wandering came to a stop outside his potions classroom – his first class of the day. The day trudged on, and Harry with it. It was as he, Ron, and Hermione were on the way to the Great Hall for the feast that he remembered his promise to Nearly-Headless Nick.
A short while ago, Filch had caught Harry on the return from Quidditch practice, tracking mud in the halls. Nearly-Headless Nick had staged a distraction that allowed Harry to get away scot-free from what would've surely been an exhausting lecture and probably detention. In return, the ghost had requested Harry's presence at his Death-Day party.
When he told her about it, Hermione was instantly fascinated.
"How do ghosts celebrate? Do they have unique traditions?" She asked expectantly, as if Harry would have the answer. He only shrugged.
Ron's concerns were more elementary. "D'you think they'll have snacks?"
"Honestly, Ron," Hermione huffed. "How would they even eat? They're ghosts!"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Then why are we even going?"
"Because it would be fascinating to see ghostly traditions," said Hermione excitedly.
Harry gave her an odd look. "You two don't have to come if you don't want to."
"And miss out on this opportunity to get a firsthand look at ghostly culture?" Hermione said, aghast. Ron shrugged.
"I have nothing better to do. I guess I've got to join you lot."
Harry grinned. "Thanks."
He severely regretted accepting Nearly-Headless Nick's invitation. The party was a total bust.
The second years walked into the abandoned classroom in the dungeons that served as the venue for the Death Day party. Where a birthday party – like the one Harry had helped organise for Angelina only a few weeks prior – was usually filled with bright colours, streamers, cake, and presents, a Death Day party was quite the opposite.
The walls were covered in drab, tattered cloth of darkening shades of grey and black. Instead of Hors d'oeuvres and snacks, the scattered tables were filled with rotting fish and rats and other critters that emitted a stench so foul that Harry felt on the verge of fainting. Worst of all was the company. Ghosts packed the room, passing through each other on a whim. They seemed to forget that not everyone in the room was dead, for they floated through Harry several times, giving the second year that awful sensation of being doused in ice water.
He had been having a particularly rough time, owing to his heightened senses as a result of Theia's blessing. He could only thank his occlumency-wrought self-control and empty stomach that he didn't throw up in the middle of the abandoned classroom.
On a whim, he'd slipped his bracelet off his wrist and into his robes. His senses instantly dulled, and while it was disorienting for a moment, it was worth it to avoid the overwhelming stench.
Even with his dulled senses, Harry and the others didn't last much longer. He wasn't sure what was more unbearable: the rotting stench or Ron's constant whinging. Either way, the trio nearly ran out of the dungeons, breathing only when they were an entire storey away.
"Bloody hell, that was horrible," Ron's face was screwed up in consternation as he tried desperately to get the smell of decaying seafood out of his lungs.
"I should've just let Filch write me up," Harry agreed. Even Hermione couldn't feign anything except revulsion.
"Was that fascinating enough for you, 'Mione?" Ron snickered. The girl glared, if half-heartedly. She didn't have a retort, and Harry knew that when it came to Hermione Granger, that was about as close to victory as one got.
"Come on," said Ron. "Let's go down to the feast. Maybe they haven't cleared the pudding yet."
Harry's stomach rumbled at the thought of edible, living-people food. The trio strolled down the hallway. It was at the lip of the side staircase that Harry heard the voice.
"… So hungry… for so long…"
Harry froze, his hand on the railing.
"Did you two say anything?" He asked his friends. They looked at him weird.
"No," Hermione frowned. "Are you alright, Harry?"
But Harry wasn't listening. Instead of stepping off the landing that would take him to the Great Hall, he continued climbing up another floor, toward the voice. A deep, rumbling hiss rang through the hall that seemed to come out of the very ground itself.
"Harry, what're you doing?"
"Shh. Shut up a minute, listen."
Hermione looked at him worriedly. "Listen to what?"
"Just listen!" he hissed. Ron and Hermione froze on the landing.
The voice was getting fainter now.
"… kill … time to kill."
Harry broke into a sprint. He was only vaguely aware of Ron and Hermione chasing after him. "It's going to kill someone!"
"Why are we chasing it, then?" Ron asked incredulously, speeding up to catch up to him.
Harry rounded a corner, skidding to a stop and nearly getting bowled over by his panting friends.
"What the hell are you doing, Harry?" Ron demanded, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "What voice – I didn't hear anything."
They couldn't hear the voice? As Harry gripped at the realisation, Hermione gasped. Harry turned around instantly. He realised that the corridor he was in was the same one he'd crossed in the morning. He remembered the bathroom he'd seen Ginny go into.
What he didn't remember was the message that made his stomach turn. Written in blood were the words, 'The Chamber of Secrets has been reopened. Enemies of the Heir, beware.'
Harry's heart thudded against his ribs when his eyes trailed below the message. Hanging from its tail was a cat. Not just any cat, but possibly the most hated cat in Hogwarts. Mrs. Norris hung suspended from the wall.
"Is she dead?" Hermione asked weakly.
Without thinking, Harry focused. The world lit with colour, and he took a moment to adjust to the overwhelming cacophony of magic. He squinted and found that his mage sight felt duller – weaker. Still, he pushed forward.
He scanned the magical residue on the wall. There was nothing on the blood-writing. That meant that the blood didn't belong to a magical creature – that ruled out wizards. He breathed an involuntary sigh of relief.
His gaze turned to the cat. There was magic on the cat, so whatever had attacked it was magical. And it was definitely a 'what', for the magic lacked the almost sentient quality that denoted the human kind. The static shimmer of the magic meant this was the handiwork of a creature. He reached out a hand to identify the creature.
"Harry!" Hermione's voice cut through his focus. His vision flickered and returned to the monotony of the regular world. "You were glowing!"
He froze. Ron and Hermione were watching him with shock and awe, as if expecting him to spontaneously combust. He made an astounding impression of a goldfish as he tried to think up a suitable excuse. None came.
He was saved by a sudden swell of noise. Lazy chatter from the belly-full students returning from the Halloween feast filled his ears. The nature of the incriminating scene before him became obvious to Harry, who backpedalled, putting as much space between himself and the cat as possible. He had no interest in repeating the dragon incident from last year.
Still, it was for nought. There was nowhere for Harry and company to hide, for the sound of students came from both ends of the hall. The chatter died the moment they turned the corner.
There was a split second of eerie, heavy silence as the student body swallowed the sight before them. A familiar, nasal voice sliced through the tension.
"Enemies of the heir, beware." Malfoy's sharp features were contorted in a cruel grin. "You'll be next, mudbloods!"
The caretaker, Argus Filch, pushed his way to the front to see what was causing the traffic jam. He hobbled over to the writing on the wall. Harry saw the man's face drain of colour as he read the words. When his gaze landed on his hanging cat, he made a strangled noise. Despite his intense dislike of the man, Harry felt a rush of pity for Filch. He imagined finding Hedwig in Mrs. Norris' place and felt a ball of lead form in his stomach. He resolved to go visit his owl at the first opportunity.
"Who did this?" Filch cried, his voice halfway between a sob and a snarl. "Who killed Mrs. Norris?"
He surveilled the students before his gaze landed on Harry and his friends. "You!" He advanced on Harry, who took multiple steps backwards. The caretaker's splotchy purple face reminded him too much of Uncle Vernon for his liking. "What did you do to her? I'll see you expelled for this!"
"I didn't do anything," Harry pleaded. "She was like this when we got here."
Filch wasn't listening. He grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, who fumbled in his robes for his wand.
"Hey, let him go!" Ron yelled from somewhere behind him.
"Argus!" Dumbledore's booming voice rang through the crowded hallway like thunder, and the crowd parted as the headmaster, followed by his deputy and the heads of houses, filled the empty circle the students had made. "Release him."
Filch released Harry reluctantly and turned to Dumbledore with thunderous anger in his gaze.
"The boy killed my cat, headmaster. I want to see punishment!"
"Justice will be done, Argus," Dumbledore said calmly as he patted the distraught man on the shoulder. "But not here. Let us take this somewhere more private."
"My office is nearest, Professor," Lockhart simpered, which clashed horribly with his overly grave look. "Let us take this conversation there."
"That is most kind of you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore smiled genially. He turned to the three students. "If you three will come with me so that we may get this sorted."
Harry, Ron, and Hermione made the trek to the common room in silence. Each was lost in their own train of thought. Harry stuck his hands in his robes as he walked and felt cool metal. Out of his robes, he pulled his silver bracelet. He withheld a groan as he thumbed the lily charm. That was why his mage sight felt weaker. He kicked himself as he slid it back onto his wrist.
The bracelet brought his memory back to the wall – specifically, Ron and Hermione catching him using mage sight. The entire trip back, he had tried to think of a plausible excuse but was coming up dry.
The trio slipped into the common room, and Harry found the Quidditch team gathered around the fire. Alicia looked up when the portrait opened and beckoned them over. With a sense of déjà vu, Harry approached the gathered team. It was only when he saw Katie curled up on the corner of the settee, asleep, that he realised it was quite late. It was with a feeling of trepidation that Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down next to the sleeping Katie on the sofa. The shifting cushions roused the third-year girl. She blinked the sleep out of her eyes as she sat back.
"Oh, you're back," she said between yawns. "Took your sweet time, didn't you?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Sorry, let me tell Dumbledore to talk faster next time."
"Oh, I'd love to see that," Katie grinned. "You should do it to Snape instead. Do it in potions, and I'll sneak out of class to watch."
Harry snorted. "I like living, thank you very much."
Katie snickered before falling silent. The lighthearted atmosphere was replaced by a tense silence. Harry coughed. "So, how was the feast?"
Angelina rolled her eyes. "Merlin, you lot are horrible. Speccy, what the hell was that writing on the wall, and what were you doing there?"
Harry gulped and recounted the story. Making sure to keep his voice low to prevent any eavesdroppers from hearing, he told them about the voices, Dumbledore declaring Mrs. Norris as not dead, just petrified, and the mandrakes that would be ready by the end of the year. By the end of the story, even the twins were forced into silence.
"Hearing voices no one else can isn't a good thing, Harry," Ron said gravely. "Even in the wizarding world."
"Thanks, Ron," Harry said dryly. "That's really helpful, mate."
"Just saying," Ron shrugged helplessly.
"I can't lie, this doesn't look all that good for you, Harry," Katie admitted, and he rounded on her.
"What?" She raised her hands defensively. "I'm not saying he petrified Filch's cat. I mean, look at him." She poked his shoulder. "He couldn't hurt a fly."
"I resent that," Harry glared. Katie only grinned wider.
"Anyway, what I meant was," she pulled on a loose strand of her hair. "Think about it from an outside perspective. Harry wasn't at meals all today – and from what little I saw of him, he was acting a right git."
Alicia opened her mouth to say something, but Katie cut her off. "I know, I know. Today's a tough day for him – I get it. And Harry, you know I'm here for you if you want to talk or something, but people on the outside don't know that. To them, Halloween is about sweets, spooky things, and celebrating Voldemort's downfall. Only to Harry and those who care about him is Halloween a sombre day."
She shook her head and started counting off her fingers. "You've been missing all day, a surly prat in classes, skipped the feast, and were caught at the scene of the crime. Can't you see how people might think you did it?"
"Well, what do I do then?" Harry asked hotly. A feeling enveloped him, quite like being immersed in tar.
"You? Just business as usual," Katie said coolly. "The rest of us will have to get ready to jinx everyone bad-mouthing you."
Harry smiled weakly.
Katie frowned a little. "I just wanted you to be ready – I remember how much the dragon business last year hurt you. This time, we've got your back, no matter what."
"All of us," she added firmly. Harry smiled a little wider and bumped Katie's shoulder in return.
"Thanks."
"Of course," she said. "What are friends for?"
Harry nodded, and he fiddled with the bracelet around his wrist.
Friends.
"I've got something to tell you lot," Harry said quietly. Alicia raised an eyebrow when she saw him pulling at his bracelet. He met her gaze and nodded slightly. "There's this secret I've been keeping since the beginning of first year."
He took a deep breath. "I can control ancient magic."
A/N: HI IM STILL ALIVE
barely.
school is killing me dawg
plus, i've just been in an absolute slump when it comes to writing... you know when you have a plot point you reeeeaaallly want to get to but you have to set it up and you really dont want to write the setup? yeah im going through that right now
Also, I think I need a beta-reader to help me iron out some of my writing before release, because i find that no matter how many times I look, I always find some mistake after release. So if anyone is interested, hit me up. If you're interested but too shy to put it in a review, you can PM me on here. Also, throw the word pineapple in the message so I know you aren't a bot. You wouldn't believe the number of 'artists' I get in my DMs...
Either way. Finally we have a chapter, and hopefully the next one won't take a month and a half (sorry about that btw)
P.S. Good news, I passed my midterms and got well over the curve on both, so we eating good over in my camp. Bad news, my next midterm season is next week so probably no chapter 17 for a hot minute either.