I could hardly face Pansy as I sat back down in my seat with a heap. She quickly rubbed my arm to comfort me, helping to ease the stress of my mind recalling the vague memory of the spider crying and hissing in utter pain. I let out a sigh, nodding at her with thanks as I scooted my seat closer to hers. Burying the unwanted emotions that had begun to surface, I focused all my attention on the present; with Pansy.
I silently grasped at her hand, and held it tenderly as she continued to look on at me with condolences for having to stand before everyone as a creature was quite literally tortured. If my mind were paying more attention rather than digging up my own problems I probably would have been worse off. I gave her a small smile and a small squeeze to her hand to reassure I was fine; silently thanking her for her constant care for my more hidden self.
She only began to smirk when a chill rushing down my spine snapped my head to the front of the class, where a familiar spell was about to be cast. Professor Moody, standing in front of Hermione’s desk. With the spider wearily placed before her he raised his brow at the meager shaking of her head. All I could see was her hair bouncing slightly as she did so, Chiara rubbing Hermione’s back, clearly hoping to help offset the horror that flashed in all of our minds.
The professor gave a tiny shrug as he spoke. “No?” He then pointed his wand down at her desk and the hair all over my body stood on end. My heart began pounding in my ears and I instinctively gulped for air. I knew what was coming, and I could almost feel the familiar presence brewing at the end of the professor’s wand. As if the world had slowed down, I watched as with each syllable from the professor’s lips, the feeling grew louder along with the green hue at the tip of his wand. “Avada Kedavra!”
As the flash of green light encompassed the spider, I let out the breath I was inadvertently holding, needing another for my beating heart. This was a feeling I didn’t quite understand. I wasn’t filled with rage, nor fear of seeing the spell, not the kind of overwhelming fear I had when seeing it almost be used like during the terrorist attack. I was both of those things, but not to the extreme. I was distraught over the poor creature being abused and killed. However, I was left confused at my body’s virulent reaction to the spell.
The spider curled up its legs, its body’s rigor mortis twitching its legs without the need for life of the creature. “Lucas… That hurts…” Pansy whispered with a bit of unease. I blankly glanced at her small wince, then down at my hand, my nails slightly digging into her precious skin. With a small gasp, I almost threw my hand off of Pansy’s, distraught over accidently hurting her. “Oh my goodness…! I-I’m so sorr-” I was in the middle of apologizing, only to have the professor interrupt me, continuing the lesson.
“The killing curse!” The words snapped my attention back to the front of the class where he slowly limped his way closer to the center, his eyes targeted to a singular student with tell tale black hair. “Only one person is known to have survived it…” He finally stopped before Potter’s desk, looking at him with intrigue as he continued. “And he’s sitting in this room…” He muttered, staring directly down at Potter for a few moments of uncomfortable silence before suddenly grasping at his chest for his flask.
The clock tower slowly began to chime, indicating class was over, the time the length of class seeming shorter than how it actually was. Everyone grabbed their books and hurried to the door, wanting to leave the classroom as fast as their legs could carry them. Draco was among them, almost pulling me out of the door while Pansy followed suit. However, all I could look at was the back of Pansy’s hand with small marks of my nails embedded in her skin.
“That man is insane! I should talk to my father about getting a teacher that isn’t mad.” Draco complained as we walked to our next class, but it fell on deaf ears while Pansy and I looked at one another. “Pansy, I really-” I was about to start, but Pansy’s smile paused my words. She grabbed my hand with her hurt one, using her other hand to place my other atop of her injured one, essentially making both of my hands above and below her injured one.
“Lucas, it’s all right…” She whispered so Draco couldn’t overhear, patting my top hand with her free one. Her pure smile held no hint of blame to be placed on me, in fact, her smile grew a bit larger as she carefully brought her hand closer to my face, nearly resting it against my chest. “But perhaps a small kiss would help the pain go away?” She asked, tilting her head a bit, pulling my hand atop of hers away to showcase the small red marks my nails caused.
I couldn’t help but smile at her forgiveness, for witches in high standing, their skin was their life. I had seen a few younger girls in Slytherin not leave even to the common room for having been careless in their ingredients and having their face and hands burst into boils. Even the smallest of blemishes were scrupulously targeted as a weakness at any social gathering, and Pansy was no different. Many girls looked up to her, and many more wished to take her place in popularity.
With a small sigh, I traced my thumb over the damage I had done to her, finally raising her hand to my lips and giving a small kiss just as she asked. I glanced back up at her, my face a little warm in embarrassment as I spoke. “Does it feel better?” To my surprise, Pansy’s warm smile had slightly morphed into a defeated one. She chuckled a bit, taking my hand and interlacing my fingers just as I had accidentally hurt her moments prior, but acting as if nothing had even happened. “I suppose that works too…” She happily sighed, making me wonder if she was hoping for something more.
“Oh for the- Let me know when you’re going to be off in your own world!” A sudden yell of Draco brought my attention back to him as he scowled at the both of us. “What were you talking about?” Pansy asked with an obviously fake ‘innocent’ smile, wanting to upset Draco a bit more as he held back his fuming of the third wheel.
***
“How are you feeling?” Chiara asked Hermione, both girls in the bathroom for a moment away from others. Random girls from other houses and years came and went while they both stood in the corner near the sinks and mirrors. Hermione, already long done with washing her hands, splashed some water on her face to keep her mind in the present. Chiara quickly allowed for Hermione to use her robed sleeve to dry off her face, a gesture Hermione couldn’t help but take. “Better…” She murmured with a small smile.
After removing her face from Chiara’s sleeve, Hermione heaved a deep sigh. “I should be asking you the same question.” Hermione muttered with a frown, grabbing hold of Chiara’s arms, this new relationship between the two of them still nervously explored between both girls, their old moments of physical contact now with new meaning. Chiara slightly blushed, unable to look at Hermione, and Hermione was embarrassed as well, but held firm; she needed to show that she was more than willing to help Chiara in times of need just as Chiara always did to her.
Chiara remained silent until the sound of the door closing behind the last remaining girl in the bathroom left. She then gasped, and Hermione only noticed now that her eyes sparkled with a silver hue. She forcefully wrapped her arms around Hermione, tightly holding her into a close embrace as her shaking breath tickled Hermione’s ear through her raggedy hair. “I’ll be fine… In a bit…” Chiara whispered between bated breath, Hermione’s reddened face almost steaming with shame.
Needing to change the conversation, hoping to move Chiara’s as well as her own thoughts away from the sudden onset excitement, Hermione fumbled what she really meant by her words. “I- I meant… A-About the last curse…” She whispered, her own hands slowly sliding around Chiara’s back, unable to just have them down by her sides. However, to Hermione's surprise, Chiara pulled away. Her eyes no longer shining silver, the instinctual need to be as close to Hermione as possible now gone. "Oh..." Chiara muttered before silently fidgeting as her mind made up the correct words for her to use.
Finally Chiara shook her head apologetically, possibly also giving up on trying to find the right words to say. “I’m sorry…”
Hermione squinted her eyes in confusion at Chiara who was now avoiding eye-contact in shame. “What? Why would you be sorry?” She asked, Chiara's fidgeting grew more as her mind spun with possible pathways to this conversation, all leading to the same place. Licking her dry lips, and taking a small breath to quell her guilt, Chiara finally spoke. “My mind put up a wall on the worst parts of that day…” Hermione blinked a few times, not understanding what Chiara meant by those words.
Chiara, sensing Hermione’s confusion, gulped before explaining in greater detail. “It happens when someone has experienced too much… Their minds block the memory to keep themselves safe… I only remember the first explosion… Us running… And Lucas… Everything else is just a blur…” Hermione gasped, covering her mouth in horror at the problems she hadn’t known Chiara had gone through. Losing memories is a terrifying idea, knowing important parts of your life are unable to be reached, making you wonder if you even lived through them at all.
“Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me!?” Hermione cried out, instantly placing Chiara into another hug. “I’m sorry…” Chiara mumbled once again, Hermione shaking her head at whatever she was apologizing for now. “I… I couldn't say that I left you alone with those bad memories… You told everyone about what happened to us with that spell, b- but I was just as shocked.” Chiara muttered, her voice muffled with her face buried in Hermione’s shoulder.
Hermione shook her head once again, rubbing Chiara’s back to ease her as she spoke. “No, No, None of that is your fault in the least… It was traumatizing for all of us. You lost a lot of blood, and were hardly conscious while Lucas carried you the floo network. There is nothing to hold against you.” Chiara, ever so slowly, grabbed at Hermione’s robes, a small sniffle to stop herself from dirtying her clothes before she nodded into Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione continuously rubbed Chiara’s back, being the shoulder for her to lean on, until a sudden question popped into her mind that escaped her lips before she could stop herself.
“Has this happened to you before?” Chiara froze in place, her grip on Hermione’s robes tightening for a bit before slowly releasing themselves as she built up the nerve to speak her mind. “Yes… The night I was changed… I don’t remember any of it…” Hermione silently nodded at Chiara, understanding that night would be something better left forgotten. After a few more moments of silence, she finally decided to reassure Chiara once again. “It’s okay, It’s all okay now… We’re best friends. More than best friends… Okay?” She asked with a caring smile. Chiara’s body shivered, a larger sniffle stopping anything from leaking onto Hermione, but Hermione could feel her smiling even through the thick material of robe over her shoulder. “Okay…”
I could hardly face Pansy as I sat back down in my seat with a heap. She quickly rubbed my arm to comfort me, helping to ease the stress of my mind recalling the vague memory of the spider crying and hissing in utter pain. I let out a sigh, nodding at her with thanks as I scooted my seat closer to hers. Burying the unwanted emotions that had begun to surface, I focused all my attention on the present; with Pansy.
I silently grasped at her hand, and held it tenderly as she continued to look on at me with condolences for having to stand before everyone as a creature was quite literally tortured. If my mind were paying more attention rather than digging up my own problems I probably would have been worse off. I gave her a small smile and a small squeeze to her hand to reassure I was fine; silently thanking her for her constant care for my more hidden self.
She only began to smirk when a chill rushing down my spine snapped my head to the front of the class, where a familiar spell was about to be cast. Professor Moody, standing in front of Hermione’s desk. With the spider wearily placed before her he raised his brow at the meager shaking of her head. All I could see was her hair bouncing slightly as she did so, Chiara rubbing Hermione’s back, clearly hoping to help offset the horror that flashed in all of our minds.
The professor gave a tiny shrug as he spoke. “No?” He then pointed his wand down at her desk and the hair all over my body stood on end. My heart began pounding in my ears and I instinctively gulped for air. I knew what was coming, and I could almost feel the familiar presence brewing at the end of the professor’s wand. As if the world had slowed down, I watched as with each syllable from the professor’s lips, the feeling grew louder along with the green hue at the tip of his wand. “Avada Kedavra!”
As the flash of green light encompassed the spider, I let out the breath I was inadvertently holding, needing another for my beating heart. This was a feeling I didn’t quite understand. I wasn’t filled with rage, nor fear of seeing the spell, not the kind of overwhelming fear I had when seeing it almost be used like during the terrorist attack. I was both of those things, but not to the extreme. I was distraught over the poor creature being abused and killed. However, I was left confused at my body’s virulent reaction to the spell.
The spider curled up its legs, its body’s rigor mortis twitching its legs without the need for life of the creature. “Lucas… That hurts…” Pansy whispered with a bit of unease. I blankly glanced at her small wince, then down at my hand, my nails slightly digging into her precious skin. With a small gasp, I almost threw my hand off of Pansy’s, distraught over accidently hurting her. “Oh my goodness…! I-I’m so sorr-” I was in the middle of apologizing, only to have the professor interrupt me, continuing the lesson.
“The killing curse!” The words snapped my attention back to the front of the class where he slowly limped his way closer to the center, his eyes targeted to a singular student with tell tale black hair. “Only one person is known to have survived it…” He finally stopped before Potter’s desk, looking at him with intrigue as he continued. “And he’s sitting in this room…” He muttered, staring directly down at Potter for a few moments of uncomfortable silence before suddenly grasping at his chest for his flask.
The clock tower slowly began to chime, indicating class was over, the time the length of class seeming shorter than how it actually was. Everyone grabbed their books and hurried to the door, wanting to leave the classroom as fast as their legs could carry them. Draco was among them, almost pulling me out of the door while Pansy followed suit. However, all I could look at was the back of Pansy’s hand with small marks of my nails embedded in her skin.
“That man is insane! I should talk to my father about getting a teacher that isn’t mad.” Draco complained as we walked to our next class, but it fell on deaf ears while Pansy and I looked at one another. “Pansy, I really-” I was about to start, but Pansy’s smile paused my words. She grabbed my hand with her hurt one, using her other hand to place my other atop of her injured one, essentially making both of my hands above and below her injured one.
“Lucas, it’s all right…” She whispered so Draco couldn’t overhear, patting my top hand with her free one. Her pure smile held no hint of blame to be placed on me, in fact, her smile grew a bit larger as she carefully brought her hand closer to my face, nearly resting it against my chest. “But perhaps a small kiss would help the pain go away?” She asked, tilting her head a bit, pulling my hand atop of hers away to showcase the small red marks my nails caused.
I couldn’t help but smile at her forgiveness, for witches in high standing, their skin was their life. I had seen a few younger girls in Slytherin not leave even to the common room for having been careless in their ingredients and having their face and hands burst into boils. Even the smallest of blemishes were scrupulously targeted as a weakness at any social gathering, and Pansy was no different. Many girls looked up to her, and many more wished to take her place in popularity.
With a small sigh, I traced my thumb over the damage I had done to her, finally raising her hand to my lips and giving a small kiss just as she asked. I glanced back up at her, my face a little warm in embarrassment as I spoke. “Does it feel better?” To my surprise, Pansy’s warm smile had slightly morphed into a defeated one. She chuckled a bit, taking my hand and interlacing my fingers just as I had accidentally hurt her moments prior, but acting as if nothing had even happened. “I suppose that works too…” She happily sighed, making me wonder if she was hoping for something more.
“Oh for the- Let me know when you’re going to be off in your own world!” A sudden yell of Draco brought my attention back to him as he scowled at the both of us. “What were you talking about?” Pansy asked with an obviously fake ‘innocent’ smile, wanting to upset Draco a bit more as he held back his fuming of the third wheel.
***
“How are you feeling?” Chiara asked Hermione, both girls in the bathroom for a moment away from others. Random girls from other houses and years came and went while they both stood in the corner near the sinks and mirrors. Hermione, already long done with washing her hands, splashed some water on her face to keep her mind in the present. Chiara quickly allowed for Hermione to use her robed sleeve to dry off her face, a gesture Hermione couldn’t help but take. “Better…” She murmured with a small smile.
After removing her face from Chiara’s sleeve, Hermione heaved a deep sigh. “I should be asking you the same question.” Hermione muttered with a frown, grabbing hold of Chiara’s arms, this new relationship between the two of them still nervously explored between both girls, their old moments of physical contact now with new meaning. Chiara slightly blushed, unable to look at Hermione, and Hermione was embarrassed as well, but held firm; she needed to show that she was more than willing to help Chiara in times of need just as Chiara always did to her.
Chiara remained silent until the sound of the door closing behind the last remaining girl in the bathroom left. She then gasped, and Hermione only noticed now that her eyes sparkled with a silver hue. She forcefully wrapped her arms around Hermione, tightly holding her into a close embrace as her shaking breath tickled Hermione’s ear through her raggedy hair. “I’ll be fine… In a bit…” Chiara whispered between bated breath, Hermione’s reddened face almost steaming with shame.
Needing to change the conversation, hoping to move Chiara’s as well as her own thoughts away from the sudden onset excitement, Hermione fumbled what she really meant by her words. “I- I meant… A-About the last curse…” She whispered, her own hands slowly sliding around Chiara’s back, unable to just have them down by her sides. However, to Hermione's surprise, Chiara pulled away. Her eyes no longer shining silver, the instinctual need to be as close to Hermione as possible now gone. "Oh..." Chiara muttered before silently fidgeting as her mind made up the correct words for her to use.
Finally Chiara shook her head apologetically, possibly also giving up on trying to find the right words to say. “I’m sorry…”
Hermione squinted her eyes in confusion at Chiara who was now avoiding eye-contact in shame. “What? Why would you be sorry?” She asked, Chiara's fidgeting grew more as her mind spun with possible pathways to this conversation, all leading to the same place. Licking her dry lips, and taking a small breath to quell her guilt, Chiara finally spoke. “My mind put up a wall on the worst parts of that day…” Hermione blinked a few times, not understanding what Chiara meant by those words.
Chiara, sensing Hermione’s confusion, gulped before explaining in greater detail. “It happens when someone has experienced too much… Their minds block the memory to keep themselves safe… I only remember the first explosion… Us running… And Lucas… Everything else is just a blur…” Hermione gasped, covering her mouth in horror at the problems she hadn’t known Chiara had gone through. Losing memories is a terrifying idea, knowing important parts of your life are unable to be reached, making you wonder if you even lived through them at all.
“Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell me!?” Hermione cried out, instantly placing Chiara into another hug. “I’m sorry…” Chiara mumbled once again, Hermione shaking her head at whatever she was apologizing for now. “I… I couldn't say that I left you alone with those bad memories… You told everyone about what happened to us with that spell, b- but I was just as shocked.” Chiara muttered, her voice muffled with her face buried in Hermione’s shoulder.
Hermione shook her head once again, rubbing Chiara’s back to ease her as she spoke. “No, No, None of that is your fault in the least… It was traumatizing for all of us. You lost a lot of blood, and were hardly conscious while Lucas carried you the floo network. There is nothing to hold against you.” Chiara, ever so slowly, grabbed at Hermione’s robes, a small sniffle to stop herself from dirtying her clothes before she nodded into Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione continuously rubbed Chiara’s back, being the shoulder for her to lean on, until a sudden question popped into her mind that escaped her lips before she could stop herself.
“Has this happened to you before?” Chiara froze in place, her grip on Hermione’s robes tightening for a bit before slowly releasing themselves as she built up the nerve to speak her mind. “Yes… The night I was changed… I don’t remember any of it…” Hermione silently nodded at Chiara, understanding that night would be something better left forgotten. After a few more moments of silence, she finally decided to reassure Chiara once again. “It’s okay, It’s all okay now… We’re best friends. More than best friends… Okay?” She asked with a caring smile. Chiara’s body shivered, a larger sniffle stopping anything from leaking onto Hermione, but Hermione could feel her smiling even through the thick material of robe over her shoulder. “Okay…”
