The evening both dragged by and sped up for Aster; one moment she felt like the world had slowed down to a painful amount, only to look at the time and see that a half hour had passed. Their small group was divided in the common room for a chance - Daphne and Pansy were sitting with a couple of older girls, and Malfoy and his goons were posturing elsewhere. This left Aster with Blaise and Theo, which made it both easier to handle her nerve and feel immensely trapped as they could fine tune their focus on her.
She knew that they were worried about her. She was aware of their whispered conversations on what to so. She also pretended that she 'forgot' she had put more on her plate than she thought, or had made a new cup of tea. She was also certain that they knew she allowed them to do so.
It was weird having people concerned about her - she didn't know if she was doing the right thing by letting them do it. All she could think was: if it helps them, what the hell?
Her familiars, too, had been paying her more affection and attention, following her around the castle and grounds - Clacker even somehow getting into the dorm each night. It was a rare sight to be seen without a crow perched on her shoulder or a cat twining between her legs, hissing at unfamiliar people who came near them. If she was in a better mindset she'd find it hilarious; as it was she merely felt a niggling sense of amusement.
So on that evening she was sat curled up in her usual armchair, ostentatiously pretending to read a book and ignoring the looks the boys shared. She'd flick a page occasionally to help the image but in reality nary a sentence was remembered. Binky was squashed between her legs and the arm of the chair, purring softly and making her relax a little in the soothing tones. Clacker was on the back of the chair by her head and would occasionally nestle in, ensuring she didn't forget he was there.
The boys were sitting across one another, Theo pretending to teach the basics of chess to Blaise in a forced calm voice. It would have worked if it were not for three things. One - his white knuckled grip on the Knight that was gasping for unneeded breath. Two - Blaise actually looking interested and not bored to tears. And three - that they chose chess to spend their time with. There was a reason Theo and Malfoy were the only ones who would go off to the chess sets in the room - they were the only ones who cared.
As such, due to this unlikely of occurrences to be genuine, Aster was overcome with guilt at the knowing her mood was so effecting her friends. She just hoped that whatever she was suffering from would bugger off after tonight as she was sick to death with it. She missed laughing, she yearned to be able to focus and she positively was desperate to be able to enjoy a cup of tea again properly. Now she understood the saying 'it's the small things in life'. She had thought with her time at the Dursleys she would be well acquainted with the concepts; but even there she was allowed one cup of tea a day. They may have been brutes, but they were still proudly British.
She looked up at the clock again; it was nearing eight now, even though she was sure it should be closer to nine. Maybe if she counted how long it actually read a page and then use that to check the time instead? But no, the boys would notice the difference in her pattern. She always read disjointedly as some of the time she would go off on a tangent in her head instead of reading.
If she wasn't so worried about being late to see the creepy professor, she would have tried to go for a nap. Although, her nerves were fried so she wasn't likely to settle and no doubt her painted parents would choose that moment to see her. They had been strangely absent of late, but Aster reasoned to herself that they were probably caught up in the preparations for the court case. Made sense, the guy was meant to have been her guardian along with her grandfather.
Another ten minutes slowly crept by and the boys had begun a slow start to the game. It briefly held Aster's attention as she watched Blaise show a rare moment of serious concentration and Theo leaking out smug amusement. It was strangely fascinating to witness their emotions in reverse, although she may faint if Theo began to flirt needlessly.
Trial by fire seemed to be the lesson choice as Theo charged ahead and stole piece after piece off Blaise. He had in turn only taken two pawns off the board. Quickly growing bored of the predicted outcome, she tried to earnestly read her book, a sappy novel that Pansy had recommended. The few sentences she did read made her cringe at the prose and misogyny openly displayed. Why the other girl thought she'd like it was beyond her. But it did explain Daphne's small smirk as the book was tossed to her.
Twenty-five minutes now passed and she was closer to nine o'clock than eight. Maybe she could write to someone to pass some time? She tended to struggle in knowing what to actually put in them that it may help close the gap that bit more. Perhaps not Grandfather; he'd pick up something wrong in her tone immediately, as he had done every other letter. Mita would be a good choice as she'd ignore any weird undertones and take in her questions with ease. Sagina, too, was a viable candidate as a recipient; she barely asked questions in fear of upsetting Grandfather, but it ran the risk of her passing on her own worries to the man.
Perhaps she could make internal letters to the three of them instead. That should easily eat up the remaining time. Not to mention she was likely to go off topic in some way. Risk free and helpful. It was a win-win situation. For the most part. Because as much as she wished time would speed up, she wanted it to drag so that she wouldn't meet her doom quite so quickly.
Briefly looking at the boys, Aster couldn't help but raise her eyebrows a little at the sight of Blaise collecting Theo's pieces with relative skill. By the shock and frown on his face, Theo wasn't quite sure what was happening himself.
"I don't know how you're doing it...but you're cheating." Theo accused, scowling down at the board.
"Hey! I'm just doing what you told me. Not my fault I'm so gifted!" Blaise retorted as he moved Theo into check.
"Shouldn't you be crying you don't cheat?" Aster asked curiously, tilting her head as she looked more closely at the scene in front of her.
"Pfft. Everyone cheats. Anyone who says they don't are lying. It just depends on if you get caught or not, and Zabinis don't get caught." He informed her, smirking at the annoyed frustration on his friend's face as he tried to maneuver his pieces out without becoming trapped.
"I'll keep that in mind. Er, Theo? What're you doing?"
Theo barely glanced at her as he squatted on the floor and looking at the pieces from a lower level with narrowed eyes and his head tilting in different directions.
"I'm trying to get a new perspective on this. Because the day Zabini has genuinely beat me at chess it'll be snowing in the desert."
Blaise smirked deviously, his dark eyes sparkling with laughter as he leaned back in his chair. At Aster's questioning look he winked at her knowingly, before settling his expression to his usual haughty and lazy smirk.
"Come on, Nott. Either make a move of forfeit. If you want, we can do another game. It may be a fluke, you know?"
Theo glared darkly at him, "I refuse to forfeit. But you've trapped me. The only move I can make I'll end up in check in two moves again." He whinged, slumping back into his chair and folding his arms. "Reset the board. And I'll be watching you more this time."
"Oh good. Means you'll be less focused on the game itself. How kind of you."
"Shut it." Theo growled, indicating with his head impatiently for Blaise to do the board.
The new game followed along the lines of the last, although with Theo keeping his word on staring at Blaise, the boy was not as able to pilfer the pieces.
It was five to the hour and Aster flicked her eyes to her familiars, waiting for them to begin their distraction. Binky got up and stretched, digging his claws into the plush carpet before flicking his tail and trotting off to the other cats in the common room.
He had long established himself as rather above the other familiars in the House, pushing them off places if he felt like it. There were many occasions that he had caused fights for the mere amusement of it, before slinking off in the chaos that ensued. Clacker also would lend a wing in causing a ruckus, squawking and poofing out feathers throughout the screeches and hissing.
Binky forced himself into the sleeping hoard of animals, sitting in the centre as they woke up at his approach. They all slowly begun to raise their hackles, watching him through narrowed eyes.
Once all the animals were awake they all stared in silence until he yowled, and Clacker flew over, slamming into a smaller cat. After a moment he screeched, causing mayhem as they all fought with one another, creating something akin to a brawl. Cats were hissing and swiping at one another, birds were flapping and biting with their beaks on others.
All the remaining students stood and yelled as they watched the free for all, scrambling to save their pets from each other. Yelling joined in the cacophony of noises as they all scavenged for their animals. Students flocked to the pandemonium, calling out any who they thought had harmed their darlings, checking them over for injury.
The peculiar coloured Cat and the Crow slunk away in the disorder, proudly surveying the outcomes of their efforts as their Mistress slipped through the entrance hole unnoticed. Even her close companions had missed her exit, taken in by the show of violence which erupted in the usually calm House. Most fights were done through words - either barbs directly spoken or through bribery and blackmail. It made things easier so people knew where they more or less stood with one another.
Both Sephtis (also known as Binky) and Stefanus kept watch in the shadows for a further ten minutes. They unabashedly sat enjoying the view of the prim spawns of Wizarding kind debase themselves in a clamour for those they thought belonged to them, forgetting their lessons of unemotional facades. However, as time moved on and the sour faced professor swept into the room, they left. They couldn't allow her to go completely alone. They were her Guardians, and they had a job to do.
The corridors of Hogwarts had a totally different atmosphere at night. Footsteps which seemed so close were actually far away, and there always seemed to be a breeze ruffling her hair. The sconces and torches were lit to the minimum as most were confined to their House common rooms, barring the prefects and staff. The overall effect drew long shadows, stretching across the stone walls and floors.
She kept to the side of the corridor as much as possible, even with the Cloak draped over her. She knew Snape, Filch and his cat tended to leave the dungeons alone as much as possible in their patrols, but she wasn't risking it. She had only encountered Quirrell's irrational anger a few times, but she dreaded to think what he would do if she didn't turn up. Not for the first time she wished she could have confided in Theo or Blaise. And right now she couldn't rightly remember all the firm reasons for failing to do so.
It wasn't too long before she got to the Entrance Hall, slipping off the Cloak silently and placing it in her bag. Like hell was she going to let the creep know about it.
"You're late." Came the blunt statement as she stepped into view, revealing her usually stammering professor halfway hidden by the marble banister. Clearly recalling that he had a speech issue he ushered her to him. "C-come. W-we ha-have m-much t-to d-do."
Nodding she walked behind him in his shadow as they walked up the moving staircases and twisting corridors. When they reached the third floor, Quirrell strode over to a door which was less dusty than the others. Peeking inside he grinned at the sight of the slobbering beast inside and conjured a harp to play itself as a decoy, watching as the dog fell asleep.
Closing the door back over he looked over at Aster with undisguised loathing, watching as she faintly trembled wrung her hands together. She was terrified, especially having seen the actual Cerberus casually residing in an abandoned classroom only protected by a first year spell.
Snatching her wrist in an iron clad grip, he dragged the girl deeper into the corridor, his nails digging harshly into her skin. The hallway became even more dusty, cobwebs peeking out from tapestries that had a layer of grime.
In the midst of her terror, Aster couldn't help but marvel at the idea that any House Elf would allow the castle to get to this state. If any of the school Elves were like Eppy or Jospo, then surely they'd be on top of all the cleaning - especially as she was told Hogwarts had nearly an army of them.
Then again, if they were ordered to leave it, perhaps even make it look utterly abandoned, they would do so.
Quirrel stopped in front of another wooden door, breathing heavily as he clenched his fist tighter around Aster's skinny wrists, making them throb in pain.
With a trembling hand and heaving chest, he brought out his wand and spoke an incantation, unlocking the door with a smirk. The spell seemed to ooze an almost rotting stench, filling Aster's nostrils and making her gag at the scent of rotting eggs.
The man shoved her forwards so hard she stumbled into the room, only not managing to fall as he still grasped her arm. He stepped through the doorway, flicking his wand so as to quietly shut the door, blanketing the in darkness and silence.
She wished he had slammed it shut instead.
Slamming doors and loud noises Aster could deal with. She had spent enough time growing up surrounded by this that she could understand the nuances. Silence, however, was a different matter. There were only a few times that the Dursleys went quiet, and each time she was left uncertain as the reactions were always different. This was the same.
Her professor stood only a few feet inside the room, his arms shaking by his sides, once he had finally let her go. She could barely make out his silhouette as there were only a few candles lit in sconces and the moon from the night didn't reach inside. She could hear his raspy breaths as he muttered to himself absently, his head jerking from side to side and wafting his own stink with each sharp movement.
Gathering her almost non existent courage, Aster slowly backed away from him, barely taking in her surrounding fully as she kept Quirrell in eyesight at all times if possible. She noticed a particularly dark corner of the room and edged her way there, hoping to hide herself in it. Shadows had always helped her in the past, and since her learning and accepting her heritage the last summer, she seemed to be almost welcomed by them.
Her entire body felt frozen, ice creeping up her spine, and her scar scalding like frostbite all the way through her skull. Tears built up in her eyes and her jaw ached from clenching it so hard to prevent herself screaming.
Quirrel slid through the room, ignoring her for now as he searched the room, before a new third voice murmured making him stiffen and shoot to the opposite corner of the room Aster was edging to. Striding with large steps he brought his hand out and brandished his wand in the other, making almost random slashes and flourishes. A shimmer began to appear, a rainbow of colours flickering about like oil on water, slowly revealing an ornate golden mirror.
Aster couldn't help but stare as Quirrell vibrated in excitement as he rushed to the mirror, clasping the sides tightly and his nose almost pressed up to the glass. His turban slowly unravelled, the purple tendrils falling as he paced in a circle when quickly spinning to clutch the mirror again.
"Y-yes Master! Y-you w-were right!" He cried happily as he tugged at his loosening cloth clawing himself in his eagerness to remove it.
Aster stared at him in horrorfied concern as he spoke to himself, bloodying his face as his nails cut into him. Time seemed to slow again as the back of the professor's head came into view; the gnarled mess of blackened skin fusing another face on to him.
Aster howled as her entire head and neck blazed anew; invisible flames licking and cutting into her. Green flashes shot through her vision, laughter ringing in her ears. The smell of decaying flesh and garlic enveloped her as her head was yanked back as she was dragged out of her corner.
The flagstone floor cut into her legs, her nails splitting as she desperately scrabbled for purchase. Her entire being felt like it was burning, barely feeling the smacks to her face until she lost her balance and crashed to the floor.
"Be silent!" A new snarl spat at her, making her look up through her tangled hair.
The face was hideous. At a closer glance, Aster noticed that Quirrell really did have charred skin, surrounded by what looked like red and wet blisters, seeping pus. Thinly slitted red eyes glared at her, almost lost in the jigsaw of colours of Quirrell's head. The nose was barely there, looking as if it had the skin tightly stretched over a bump. The mouth was thin and pale, a tarnished silver glinting at the edges.
It was the image of nightmares.
"Now... You have proven yourself... suitable. We have watched you over the year." The voice rasped, making shudders crash down Aster's spine.
"A veritable unknown in the Snake Pit... yes... you will do very well."
Aster shook as the thing stared at her unblinking, sizing her up calculating in his blood red gaze.
"Look in the mirror...NOW! I said look in the mirror!" He screeched, making Aster jump and scramble to do as told.
Edging around the man, she moved in front of the glass, her eyes flicking to her every other moment so quickly she couldn't fully focus on what appeared in front of her. When she finally realised she stopped dead.
In the mirror she stood, smiling brightly as her Grandfather stood behind her with his genial smile, but it were those beside him that made her heart lurch. There was a petite woman standing to her side, playing with a lock of Aster's hair, her green eyes shimmering with love, and on the other side a tall man with messy black hair stood laughing with an arm slung across Aster's shoulders. The small family beamed at one another as the image blurred into a new one of Aster kneeling in
her garden, listening as Jospo taught and told her all about nature, with Eppy dancing about, launching hugs at random intervals. Again the mirror shimmered to one of the Slytherin common room, the first years now visibly a few years older and had clearly established themselves as a group. They were sat in front of the main fireplace, Daphne and Pansy gossiping on a loveseat, Malfoy in an armchair and then her and the boys on a sofa. She was in the middle, her back leaning against Blaise as she read, and her legs thrown over Theo.
It was surprisingly painful to witness this, knowing that the first would never happen and the final, if it was to come true, wouldn't for several years. Her heart ached with longing as the scenes spiralled once again into one another, creating a mirage of colour, people and agony. Every turn was like a stab to her gut, and what at the start was bliss, became a nightmare. Knowing that she'd never feel her mother's fingers brush her hair, or the shakes of her father's laughter as he fell into giggles broke her. But she found it so difficult to look away.
"What do you see?" The rasped voice interrupted, startling her once again.
"F-family." She whispered, reaching a hand out to touch the glass, desperate to touch the scene.
"Yes... Quirinus told me... you are an orphan." He croaked, analysing every movement and twitch of the child before him. "I too was without a family. I too desired one." He confided, acknowledging that to compare themselves as similar
could be a way in. He watched her further still, minutely irritated that he was being ignored for an unachievable dream. "I could give them back to you." He crooned after a few minutes, relishing as she stiffened her back and slowly turned back to him.
"You'd do that?" She whispered tremulously, licking her lips as she looked at the thing in front of her. "Why? You don't know me. I can't give you anything."
Voldemort smiled, amused at the false bravado of the chit. So young, so small, and so suspicious. In another life he would have taken her under his wing, nourished her scepticism into cunning.
"You are smart. You have potential. All you need to do is one small thing." He moved his eyes to the mirror, glaring at the Stone innocently sitting within. "There is a... treasure inside. All you need do is wish for it to be in your hand."
Aster frowned, glancing at the golden mirror before looking back at him, "If you can't do it, how could I? I'm a first year." She fidgeted, crossing her arms for a moment before dropping them and twisting her hands together instead.
Voldemort smiled sardonically at her, his lips twisting in a snarl. "It is enchanted against adults."
Well that sounded rather unlikely. Deciding not to tick off the malformed man, Aster turned her attention away from him, staring past the collage of dreams. After a few minutes the reflection changed to show her holding a blood red stone in confusion. The girl blinked at it, running her fingers over it before looking at the real Aster and shaking her head before walking away, leaving Aster utterly confused.
As the silence lengthened Quirrel - or more the man at the back of him - moved closer to her, before making the professor slam his hands on her and spinning her around.
Quirrell's eyes were completely glazed over, his irises a dark red glinting in the candlelight. He almost looked dead. He slowly turned around again, making Aster have a disturbing close up to the monster that possessed him.
He cocked his head as he narrowed his eyes at her, clenching and unclenching his fists in a random rhythm. Taking a step toward her he breathed in deeply, catching the smell of her unbridled fear. He relished in it, too long it had been since the tang of terror wrapped around him, the spice of iron as people's blood thrummed with adrenaline. He could almost taste it, and he wanted more. He took another step closer, crowding into her personal space so that she had to crane her neck further to look at him.
"Give the ssssstone to me." He purred, walking around her in slow and deliberate circles. Quirrell's robes gently brushing against her, taunting her that she couldn't escape.
"I - I don't have - have it. Sir." Aster quietly responded, her shoulders inching ever more closer to her ears and her lips almost bleeding where she kept biting them.
"Lies!" He snapped, suddenly in front of her, his line of a mouth bared his teeth in a snarl. "Give it to me. Now!"
Aster flinched, falling to the floor as she held up her hands above her. "I don't! I swear it! Please!" She sobbed, "I'm not lying, I don't have it."
Sneering the man straightened up. "Shh, don't cry." He crooned, slowly circling her again. "Perhapsss you can ssstill be ussseful. After all, Lord Voldemort is merccciful."
Aster froze, her eyes blown wide. Shaking she moved her hands away just enough to look at the now named monstrosity. This was the man that killed her parents? This was the man Longbottom had defeated?
Looking at his grotesque face, and the abominable curse he had inflicted upon the professor, he was a textbook villain. He fit the profile for a supernatural overlord, hellbent on destruction. Here was the Sauron of her world.
"You've heard of me, I ssssee." He chuckled, interrupting Aster's astonished revelations. "I hope I excccceed the tales. Now. Get me the Sssstone and I'll reward you beyond measssure." He crouched in front of her, Quirrell's legs looking broken in the torque. "Quirinussss has told me you are an orphan. I can give you back your parentsss. Give you your family." He murmured, moving his head back and forth to try and catch the girl's eye.
Aster paused. She couldn't help but think of what he offered - a reality where she could fully have her parents instead of talking portraits and vivid dreams. Have a full family of grandparent and parents together, laughing and living in harmony. If he could do that, would do that, should she do it? Could she do it? This man mindlessly struck down her parents without a thought, turned Longbottom into a boy martyr, turned the Wizarding World even darker and more black than ever.
No, she couldn't do it. She wouldn't. But how could she get out of this situation in tact. She was only eleven years old, with barely any spells to her name, and this guy was meant to be one of the greatest Wizards to have lived in generations. Maybe she should just stall until someone a lot more qualified stumbled upon them.
Tired of her silence, Voldemort sighed before he grasped a hold of her jumper and hauled her to her feet. "Get...the...Ssstone."
Nodding jerkily, she turned back to the glass, keeping Voldemort in her peripheral. Again, the mirror didn't show any indication of her getting the trophy within. Gulping, she resolutely glared into it, willing it to even show her a way of how to get out. If the damn thing was meant to show her wants and desires, surely it would do that.
Finally - finally - an image showed herself grabbing a hold of Voldemort and him screaming in agony, allowing her to run. But not how to do it. Because that would be helpful.
Deciding to just wing it, she stumbled back and clawed at her pocket with a frown until she snapped her head up to look at him in shock as he grinned manically, practically vibrating with excitement.
"You have it?" He rasped, sliding further into her personal space, "Give it to me." He demanded, holding out Quirrell's hand in a gruesome position, sticking out at an unnatural angle.
Aster gulped, gritting her teeth as she clenched her fist and steeled herself to what she was about to do.
Her stomach swooped as tears began to build before she slapped her hand on to his and Voldemort and Quirrell immediately shrieked.
She watched in fascination as his skin began to burn and sizzle, the smell of cooking meat circling in the air. Bubbles of red skin formed, turning white in the sheer heat of whatever curse was taking effect. He slammed to the floor on his knees, the pain of sharp stone lost in the torture of fire.
Taking advantage she grabbed his head, pressing her palms in as much as she could, knowing that any less and she'd lose her nerve. Tears flowed down her cheeks and nausea coiled in the bottom of her stomach, his screams echoing in her ears. Her heart was beating out of her chest, thundering so much she was sure it would burst.
His face, along with Quirrell's she suspected, blackened and cracked under her hands, black veins crawling out to the rest of him, flaking flaps of skin off him and hitting the floor with a wet splat.
Her own skin began to warm, reddening the longer she clutched at him. Her hair on her arms and the back of her neck rose as the magic kept growing, and her hair crackling in tandem.
It all sprung to a crescendo, Voldemort's entire face mottled with black charred skin, blood seeping from the wounds, travelled all the way to Quirrell who had fallen silent long ago. She pretended she didn't know why.
Voldemort howled one final time before an explosion rocked throughout Aster as a cloud of acrid grey smoke enveloped her and Quirrell's body.
Silence from Voldemort suddenly surrounded Aster, the only sound being her broken sobs as she looked down at the broken corpse of her professor, her skin blistering with burns as blood steadily dripped on to the flagstone floor.
Pain was her only thought. Pure agony, splintering flames licking at her every nerve, her scar a heated knife digging into her with every breath.
Oh gods. She was alone. So alone. Why didn't she say anything? Why didn't she tell anyone? Why didn't she -
Complete silence rang through the room after the faint thud of another body slumped to the ground.
Death watched on grimly, his hand slowly descending to rest by his side once again. He had to do it. Now he needed to shepherd the Guardians.
So I'm back.
I wrote most of this months ago NGL but couldn't figure a way to continue.
And yes - i made myself feel sick at what I was writing.
So I'm back.
I wrote most of this months ago NGL but couldn't figure a way to continue.
And yes - i made myself feel sick at what I was writing.