Chapter 29
January 4th, 1944
Hope
“So, essentially, you’ve entered into a relationship with an evil villain,” Mary surmises, her eyes very narrowed as she stares at me.
“No, not exactly,” I tell both of them, trying to think of the best way to explain. “I’m dating someone that could turn into an evil villain, right now he’s just a student at Hogwarts. He’s seen his future if he continues down the path he planned before I arrived here, but he doesn’t want that anymore. Even before I expressed my extreme dislike of a world like that, Tom was disgusted by what might happen.”
“Are you sure, Hope?” Anthony asks, searching my face for any hint of weakness. “Who’s to say he isn’t already off his rocker? We just don’t want you to get hurt—or worse.”
After a sigh, I look both of them in the eyes, one right after the other, “Is there still the potential that Tom will end up turning on me once he’s gotten what he wants? I’m not going to lie and say no, but there’s also a chance that one of you will turn me into the Ministry for being an undocumented werewolf.”
“Hope, you must know we would never!”
“If he did, I’d kill him!”
My friends shout over each other, anger and surprise twisting their features. I simply look at them with a reassuring smile while telling them, “Exactly what I thought, but there always is the chance.
“While he has far more reason to betray me, you are both just as capable of ruining my life. All I ask is that you give him a chance, this him, and trust that I would never allow anything like the future I read about to happen.”
“Is there a reason this is the first real thing you’ve told us about your past?” Mary asks in a small voice. She’s giving me an open, insecure expression that breaks my heart a little.
Sitting around a desk in an unoccupied, spelled classroom, the three of us pick at a very early breakfast. Tom quite literally banged me to sleep, and I woke up around 4 am. My swearing woke him up in a panic, and I was summoning clothes while hastily explaining that I was late for a very important friend-date. I was out the door before he could do more than let out a confused grunt.
With silenced shoes, I ran through the halls at top speed, thankful that no one would be awake at this hour. Only, the moment my feet cross the threshold of my dorm room, one of the occupied beds stirs, and then there was a bleary-eyed Weasley glaring at me dizzily. Anthony was notified in no time, and after a quick trip to pilfer the kitchens, we set up camp somewhere they promised we wouldn’t be bothered.
The various anti-detection charms casted will only help us achieve that goal. But, they do have a point. Despite the full story of Tom and I getting together mentioning my werewolf self and why I disappear during full moons, I have been focused on Hogwarts as a whole. We aren’t here to talk about my knowledge of this world or its current and future tenants— but that’s so much easier.
“Yes, mainly that I’m a coward,” I sigh with a humorless smile. “It’s a secret that’s easier to talk to about, to explain why I was so hesitant or why I was really weird the first time we went to Hogsmeade.”
Mary’s lips twitch at the memory of me trying— and failing— to hold in my excitement. Between the magical candy, butter beer, and general architecture, I was a mess. That was only the first hour, I very quickly devolved into a miming fan-girl, unable to explain my animated emotions.
“Well, I’m still curious about what you meant by ‘your memories would make someone piss themself,’ as you so eloquently put it,” Anthony interjects with a finger raised, his other hand gripping above the opposite elbow.
That makes me chuckle a little, but I prepare myself for more explanations, “Essentially, I’ve been hunted my entire life, by multiple enemies. Since my conception, other’s have wanted to use my powers for themselves. Beyond that, I come from a very supernatural family. After about a thousand years of them taking their anger issues out on everyone and everything, they also had amassed an amount of enemies that would eventually come for me.
“Both of my parents died protecting me, in completely separate situations, and as it turns out— my entire existence is because of a loophole. It’s very confusing, but the gist of it is that a genocidal monster had no way to die; Nature doesn’t like that. The monster was created with the blood of one witch, one werewolf, and one vampire: so when Nature was given the opportunity to allow one being who is all of those things to come into existence— it enabled my mother to get pregnant with me. In my world, they call me a Trybrid, but I’m only two of the three at this moment. Although, soon I have to activate my vampire side. I…I have to die to do so.”
Breathing out a huff, I hesitantly check my friend’s reactions to my info-dump. Mary is blinking far too much with a barely open mouth, while Anthony’s jaw is hanging probably as far open as anatomically possible. Dumbfounded astonishment is written across both faces, just in their own adorable ways.
The silence starts to become really uncomfortable, and then Mary just starts laughing. Hard enough that tears form in the corner of her eyes and I find myself very thankful I thought to add a really good silencing charm to the room. Once she really gets going, Anthony practically bursts before joining in with her. Before long, the three of us are no better than three hyenas cackling in the night.
“Of course you’re some legendary, once in a million years kind of witch,” Mary wheezes while whipping her eyes. “For a little while, you had me convinced you were either a dangerous criminal or a secret super slag!”
“However, you are simply the most powerful witch this world will ever see,” Anthony joins in, clutching his stomach while shaking his head at how absurd that all actually sounds out loud.
Once we settle down, after a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, I take a bite of a buttery croissant. Anthony ends up putting a hand on my shoulder, pulling my attention back from the food, “Hope, I’ve understood just how far above the rest of us you are from the first week of school. I did not care a week ago, and I do not care today. You’re Hope; the goofy girl that is unwilling to sit through the pompous standards that are forced down our throats from every front.”
“No kidding,” Mary agrees, determination in her bright eyes. “I do feel better now that some loose threads are starting to stitch together. However, I am sorry that you go through so much pain every month— I thought I had it bad.”
That makes me snort, and she grabs my hand before continuing, “I am not interested in your gifts, only your friendship. Other than your music, there is nothing that I want to steal. Already it sounds like the burden they’ve placed on you are greater than anything I would willingly pay, and I don’t doubt you feel the same. If I can ask, when do you have to…to do it?”
Despite a sudden lump in my throat, I power through to answer while squeezing her hand, “I can probably make you both a crystal, try to spell some ear plugs? Insert tiny chips from the main crystals into each?”
Only pausing to chuckle lightly with my friends, “But, I have to do it by the end of my birthday in this world. My Aunts need my blood in my old world, and then I’ll officially be free to live a somewhat normal…forever.”
My voice doesn’t even sound convincing to my ears, and Anthony appraises me in a very jockish manner, “So, what do you think you’ll be able to do once everything is said and done?”
“That was quick,” Mary mutters, smacking his arm hard enough to elicit a sharp ‘ow!’ from him.
My shock is more at how immediately accepting they are, if anything they seem relieved that my secret is just that I’m a lot more powerful than previously let on. After shaking my head with a timid smile, I admit, “Honestly, I’m not sure. I’m the first of my kind, and it isn’t like I was prophesied about beyond being a potential problem. Likely, I’ll have the abilities of each part of me, but I’m not sure how they might combine or compound…I’m not even sure that I’ll wake up still me when this is over.”
“Would you allow us to be there for you?” Mary asks curiously. Thankfully, she’s foregone her shyness now that she knows more about all the things I’ve kept hidden.
Anthony nods with a resolute expression, “If we’re there, then we can help you through it. You said it must be done by your birthday? That’s in the end of July, no?”
“It is,” I say with a light chuckle. Of course my amazingly protective friends want to be there for me. I shouldn’t be taken off guard by their reactions, I should have trusted that they would understand, “I guess there isn’t a reason why you both can’t come, but you’ll have to make your peace with Tom before then. He’s probably not willing to miss my transition for anything.”
Mary rolls her eyes, “We need to make our peace with him far before then, Hope. Being in a relationship with our close friend means that he needs to impress us, lest the two main mouths in your ear might withdraw their previous support.”
******
Tom
The walk back to the Slytherin common room is filled with pleased confusion. Last night with Hope was…fantastic. Very few witches in this school were deemed tight lipped enough to introduce to the various fantasies I’ve had since hitting puberty. Dominating my partners came easy, it was always the after part that made me question my arrangements. Walburga was the main participant in such activities, however I believe she became rather attached thanks to the few moments of after care I practiced.
They were necessary, my deepest temptations are rather dark, but Ms. Black should not have relished the perfunctory cuddling or soft words. On the other hand, with Hope? Holding her sleeping form while whispering praises felt calming for me, it felt right. For a time, I was content listening only to her even breathing and strong heart beat, her body creating a symphony of life that settled something deep within me. Waking up to her racing around the room while magically dressing herself was equal parts confusing and comical, and the rushed explanation as she flew out the door resolved any initial worries.
Hope could have woken up and regretted the night before, but I believe her reaction would have been very different if that were the case. The names of her friends kept sounding over her mumbles, in between promising to see me at breakfast, so I’ll learn soon enough just how affected she was by our night together.
“There you are,” Abraxas sighs, standing from the black leather chair he was lounging on, moving away from the other people in the room. “I assume your evening was enjoyable if you’re only arriving now.”
With a tilt of my head, Malfoy follows me out of the common room, and back into the outer dungeons. He knows better than to say more as we walk, our footsteps echoing through the damp, stone hallways. Our meeting place is difficult to get to— if you don’t know where you’re going. However, we make quick work of entering our secret hideaway, and I sit at the head of the formal dining set my men smuggled in here.
Once Abraxas sits to my right, I lean forward and tell him, “Some of the followers have decided to attempt to turn Hope against me by sharing some of our secrets.”
“What?” he asks in absolute shock, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. “Wh-why would they do that? We could all get into more than enough trouble if the wrong person overheard. Why risk exposure?”
My laughter is absent of all humor, and my smile feels more like a sneer, “To snare Hope into no longer being with me. It seems that for some, the threat of their families disappointment out weighs mine, and I’m curious why they decided to act the very same day we had our public display.”
“Would their plan work? If she finds out everything we’ve done…Hope seems the type who prefers to stay in the morally white area,” Abraxas asks while scratching his chin thoughtfully. His other hand absently drums against his crossed legs, and then I notice him chewing on his lip.
“That’s a non-issue,” I flippantly tell him, waving off his concerns. “Hope might not know the specifics of what we’ve done, but she has a very good idea.”
That makes Malfoy’s head snap towards me, “What have you told her? I never thought you would be the one to share our secrets.”
Biting the inside of my mouth, I debate on whether or not I should divulge this particular bit about Hope’s past with him. On the one hand, I did decide to bring him more into the fold, and detailing how I fail, along with his descendants, would help in my efforts to change course.
However, Hope has kept her secrets hidden for a reason, and breaching her trust would not end well for me. Although, if I tell her that I’ve only shared the books or films with Abraxas, swearing him to absolute secrecy, then she may forgive me. Tactically, I know in my gut that I’m going to share this information with Malfoy, it’s just a matter of when.
“If I share something with you about Hope, then you cannot tell another soul. Not one being outside the three of us can know or discuss this matter. Of all the secrets I have asked you to keep, this is the one that can and will change our fates. Do you understand?” My question comes out more like a demand, but I have to be sure.
Abraxas looks at me with wide, slightly scared, eyes. The silver-grey surrounding his pupils darts around my face, taking in how serious I am. Telling him the truth is a gamble, but I truly do not want the future that Hope showed me. Wanting to rule the world requires a world to rule, I just don’t understand how I lost sight of such a thing.
When Hope first mentioned that Dark Magic might actually hurt the user, I thought she might be victim to the wide spread paranoia that follows such a thing. The story about her friend helped slightly, however I was still skeptical about a type of magic that could poison users. Now? After seeing what I turn into, the horrors I lead, I can’t imagine being in my right mind while committing such heinous crimes.
“Tom, of course I will not tell anyone. What is going on?” Worry is written all over his face, clear in his tone.
After taking a deep breath, I pull my chair closer to his, folding my hands in my lap, “In the world that Hope came from, there is a book series that details the lives of various people in this world. Many have not been born yet, some are your descendants, however it shows the results of our plans and efforts.”
The look of utter shock on his face is the correct reaction, yet we’ve only just begun discussing the matter, “O-okay, then what happens?”
“The short version is that I go completely mad from Dark Magic, and the results are…terrible,” I start, raking my fingers through my curls in irritation. “Specifically for your lineage, despite not currently holding any ill will towards your family. What she showed me, I do not want that future— for any of us.
“Hope is more than aware of my life story and the evils I commit after going mad, I have not told her a single detail of what we have done here. Which is why she would not be surprised by our actions, however Myrtle is a character in the books, meaning that there are some specifics she is fully aware of. Hope made it clear that she is unwilling to live in that future, and with her help, I believe we can fix it.”
Leaning back in his chair, Malfoy releases a long breath. A hand ends up tugging his hair, and I watch while he digests this conversation. It is a lot to take in, I’m still reeling from when she told me. While I understand that I must change my plans, this is the first true step I’ve taken. Pivoting is my current strategy, however there are so many factors to consider, along with a group of followers banking on bigotry. Abraxas will help shift their perspectives, without divulging this secret, and we will handle the consequences.
While she managed to keep the majority of the ‘good side’ hidden, one thing was made abundantly clear; my opposition was filled with many competent witches and wizards. Understanding that my followers and I targeted Muggleborns or Halfbloods allowed me to come to the easy conclusion that they are the ones making up the majority that fought against me. If any of my current followers decide to abandon ship, perhaps I might expand the membership guidelines.
“So, what do we do? How do we fix our paths?” Malfoy asks, pulling me from my thoughts.
He’s paler than usual, but overall is taking all this rather well. I can see in his face that he both does and does not want to ask what happens to his family. One day, he might ask Hope, meaning I need to make myself abundantly clear about my wishes for the future.
“We adjust— I am still working on just how and would appreciate your input. Other than including Hope in our plans, the only change I am confident in making is asking for your input. From now on, I want you to formally be brought into the fold, and assist in our collective futures. How does that sound?” This goes against everything that I taught myself, but change is rarely comfortable. In this case, change is necessary, no matter how much it goes against the grain.
If Malfoy opens his eyes anymore, they might just fall out. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat before breathlessly inquiring, “What did she show you?”
“Would you like to see?” I ask with a raised eyebrow.
He nods, looking unsure of his request, but determined to see it through. With a shrug, I enter Abraxas’ mind before pushing my memories into his head. The large cauldron that birthed what would become my new body, the results of the potion looking more snake-like than human, and the following meeting with the disciples. Hogwarts in shambles, people wearing black attacking children in droves, and the ghastly version of me being defeated by the outline of a student.
An elderly Dumbledore and I battling in the Ministry of Magic. My power is impressive, I’d be lying if I said my future might didn’t tickle my fancy, however my exterior is too horrifying to get passed. Lastly, the memory of Hope explaining the various terrible deeds done under my reign, how my appearance changed over time because of how I practice magic.
“That is what Dark Magic does to you?” Malfoy gasps as I return to my body. My nod prompts him to continue with a hand flying to his forehead, “Shite you look bloody frightful in that future! I-I don’t want you to turn into that either, and the way you spoke to my-my son? No, that will not be the future. Not to mention the losing aspect as well, I’ll do everything I can to keep any of that from happening.”
My chuckle is dark, and I summon some firewhiskey and glasses from the bar in a corner. Opening the bottle, I pour us both a finger full before setting it down between us.
Malfoy downs it immediately, and I end up asking in an amused voice, “So, what do you suppose we do about it?”
“Well, first I’d say we find a way to safely practice Dark Magic,” sounding a little unsure that his input is actually being considered. Sudden tenacity takes over his expression, and he meets my gaze when he says, “However, I have a suggestion about another predicament that I would like to make. You and I both heard about the female attention Hope received yesterday; I understand that other followers trying to ruin your relationship is a bad thing, but why not use that to solve your problem?
“My assumption is that your plan is to send other trustworthy people to be with her when you cannot, however if the other followers goal is to win her over— surely they would jump to her defense. They will be scheming regardless, it seems, of their affiliation with you, so why not allow them a small outlet in exchange for them keeping her safe?”
Weighing his idea in my head, I realize that my only objections are rooted firmly in jealousy. The want for Hope to not be around anyone who would try to turn her away from me, however I don’t believe any of my followers are able to truly affect her opinion. None of them know what I do, how close we have become. If anything, she’s disgusted by their obvious lust for her abilities. Something only I have managed to look passed it seems.
“I don’t hate the idea,” I tell him honestly after a moment of deliberation. “If this is the route we take, we need to make them believe protecting her is their idea. However, we will need to consult her before allowing such a thing.”
***
Hope
Humming a song as we enter the Great Hall, I can’t help when my gaze flies to the Slytherin table. I hear Mary chuckling at me, but my eyes are too busy searching the table for the face I want. Exhaustion has a funny way of lowering inhibitions, and after only a handful of hours of sleep, the three of us have matching bags under our eyes. My feet stop moving when I don’t see Riddle, and then I look between my friends in confusion. Their feet carried them both a couple steps in front of me, and my confusion is mirrored on both their faces.
I’m about to ask where they think Tom is, when arms appear around my waist, and a voice whispers in my ear, “Looking for someone?”
A smile splits across my face, and I turn within the arms of my boyfriend, placing my hands on his chest, while breathing a sigh of relief, “Yes, actually. I didn’t mean to run out on you this morning, but I promised my friends I would finally tell them about me.”
“Oh?” he asks, turning to look at Anthony and then Mary.
Taking one of the hands still around my waist, I pull him closer to them, “So, now that everyone knows about my history, I wanted to formally introduce you all to each other.”
Tom raises an eyebrow at me for a moment before smiling kindly at my friends. They’ve been in the same year for their whole Hogwarts careers, but now my friends are more or less aware of who I knew Tom Riddle to be before getting to know him. Thankfully, Anthony shakes his hand with only a touch of hesitancy, but Mary is a different story.
“If you hurt her,” Mary tells Tom with a murderous smile, tugging on the hand that he offered until she is as much in his face as her smaller stature will allow. “I will make it my personal life obligation to ruin whatever is important to you at the time. If we are at Hogwarts, you’ll find you suddenly are failing your exams. Whether it is a job, a new business prospect, a new date; I will see to it that you fail miserably.”
My eyes widen at her statements, but Tom lets out a hearty laugh as he continues to shake her hand before telling her reassuringly, “I would expect nothing less for betraying her. However, I would sooner allow you to do all that before willingly allowing harm to befall her. Hope has nothing to fear from me.”
“That includes sticking your prick in any other witches,” Mary continues, still looking like a mixture of sweet and deadly. Her tone sounding like poisoned honey, “Or wizards for that matter.”
When I turn to Anthony with a pleading look for help, I find him barely concealing his laughter. My eyes narrow at him, at the complete lack of assistance he’s offering, and then resume watching Mary’s intimidation. They’ve been shaking each other’s hands for far too long now, and when I look, I find their grips straining as they both squeeze tightly.
“While I appreciate your gumption, I see no need to stray from the perfection I’ve been allowed access to,” Tom says with a casual shrug, seeming surprisingly calm despite the obvious threats. “Only a fool would be unfaithful to a witch like Hope, and I assure you that I am no fool.”
After a rather tense face-off between the two, Mary puts on a genuine smile. Finally releasing his hand, she places hers behind her back, saying, “Wonderful, in that case, it seems the four of us should have a meal together sometime. What with the holiday we will all be taking for Hope’s birthday.”
This time is Tom’s turn to look shocked, and I simply nod at the curious expression he sends my way. Both of my friends want to be there for me during what can only be a very tough day, regardless of my craving their blood after I wake up. Once they understood that Tom would definitely be tagging along, Mary insisted that we all start hanging out. Just to ensure that however long our trip ends up being isn’t turned into an awkward kind of torture. Introducing them again is the first step, but at some point we’ll all likely meet in the kitchens for that meal she suggested.
“Whenever you would like, I’ll be there,” Tom responds after a moment, ever the polite gentleman. “Merely send me the time and place.”
Satisfied with his answer, Mary puts her arm through Anthony’s while exclaiming, “Lovely! Well, we will leave you two to it. Come on Anthony, I’m famished.”
Which is a lie, but I don’t contradict her as she hauls a chuckling Anthony towards our usual seats at the Ravenclaw table. The three of us consumed ample food during our breakfast chat, almost four hours of explanations is enough to make anyone hungry.
“I knew the Lady Weasley was outspoken, but I must say that I’m impressed,” Tom says, pulling my attention back to him. “In another world, her and Walburga may have been great friends. If their values were not in such opposition.”
That steals a surprised laugh from deep in my chest, “I think I’d pay to see that world. But, I was planning on telling you about our updated plans, that only just happened this morning. Are you…you’re not upset, are you?”
Pulling me back into his arms, he smiles at me brightly, “While I was not expecting the company, I’m not upset. This is something you’ve waited for your entire life, I want you to be as comfortable as possible given the itinerary. If having your friends there will help in any way, then I would greatly appreciate their company.”
My muscles immediately relax, and my hands return to his chest, “Thank you, and I really did have a good night with you. Next time, we’ll properly wake up together, and I won’t go running from the room.”
“That sounds like a wonderful proposition,” he says through more chuckles, kissing the top of my forehead. “However, I do have something I would like to suggest. How would you feel about a small scheme to keep you safe?”
****
January 7th, 1944
Hope
To be or not to be; a very good question posed by a very dead playwright. Hamlet was asking himself whether he should be strong and face life’s hardships, or if the more noble thing would be to take himself out of the equation. Sometimes I wish I could ask myself the same question, especially after a week like this.
However, I don’t have the option of an easy way out. The only way death could solve my problem, is if I kill the pests that seem to swarm me. It is still an option, I haven’t completely discounted it yet.
“Oh, hello, Hope. Fancy meeting you here, would you care for some company on the way to your next class?”
“Lestrange,” I say by way of greeting, not bothering to hide my narrowed eyes. I’ve just stepped out of my Charms class, and here skulking just outside the door, is one of my least favorite escorts. The sarcasm is clear in my voice when I say, “Long time, no see.”
A smarmy smile takes over his face, but I still begrudgingly take the arm he’s offered me. He begins the walk to my next class, which he’s memorized, before Arnold continues, “How have you managed to look even more radiant today? If you continue at this rate, one day I may go blind from simply looking at you.”
“I can always speed up the process if you want,” I tell him in a monotone voice. I’m so excited for the weekend, if only to get away from my chaperones.
Arnold lets out a low chuckle, clearly amused rather than deterred, “As tempting as that offer is, I’d rather keep my sight intact. Would be a shame to miss the chance to gaze upon you every day.”
I roll my eyes with a sigh, “You and I both know you aren’t here to flirt, Lestrange.”
“True,” he admits easily, smirk never faltering. “However, can you blame me for enjoying myself a little?”
“Yes.”
His laughter continues, much like the glares that still follow me. Whenever Tom can, he’s the one to walk me to classes or meals, which usually works out better on days I have Potions and Defense. Abraxas will also tap in, but it seems neither are able to reach my side on the days where we don’t share classes. I understand, both want to finish the year with high marks, and ditching class five minutes before it’s over to run across a castle won’t help in that endeavor.
Tom explained that his followers would likely scheme to break us up regardless of his instructions, so using them to get the witches of Hogwarts to leave me alone makes sense. So far, the plan has worked, it seems that people are only willing to hex me when I’m not next to an eligible bachelor. The only drawback is how fucking annoying these guys are.
“Oh come now,” Lestrange continues with a fake grin. “If you allowed me the chance, I might make a great friend to you.”
The Transfiguration classroom is only a couple hallways away at this point, the urge to make a run for it courses through me as I respond, “If you actually wanted to be my friend, I might give you that chance.”
“I do want to be your friend, Hope,” he tells me with an almost earnest tone. “You will need plenty of friends, given who you’ve decided to attach yourself to.”
There it is, the topic that all the Slytherin boys want to talk to me about. The big, bad Tom Riddle who will huff, and puff, and destroy my life the moment my legs close. Some have mentioned that he plans to steal my powers, even tasked them with finding such a ceremony.
It wasn’t surprising, really they warned me about everything I worried about during the first semester. If anything, the third degree from them feels tedious. There’s no need to shove my decision in my face while insinuating that I picked wrong, I’m more than aware that each Pureblood would prefer I be with them rather than their leader. The biggest surprise is that they’re still breathing after warning me away from Tom.
“Well, there’s my class. I think you’ve successfully brought me unharmed, feel free to be on your way,” I tell him, not feeling like thanking him for the escort.
“Very well,” he sighs. Leaning closer to me briefly, he whispers, “I look forward to dancing with you next week at our after party.”
Then he’s walking away before I can tell him that won’t be happening, not that I even could if he stayed. Having completely forgotten about my side gig DJing, the surprise at the realization of the Gryffindor-Slytherin Quidditch game steals the breath from my lungs. Standing just a few steps away from the door, I feel a touch of panic hit me.
Students pass around me, some passing so closely that I hear our robes kissing, and the smell of pubescent teenagers is suddenly suffocating. If I thought my first experience there was rough, I can only imagine how this will go. The last week has been filled with nauseating flattery and obvious attempts to gain my confidence. How Tom plans on ruling over followers that are busy on their own paths is beyond me, but dread fills my body as the possibilities filter through my mind.
Standing just a few feet from the door, I end up turning away from the classroom. There’s a courtyard nearby, a place filled with enough crisp, cold air to refresh my thoughts in. My feet take me quickly, and I don’t even bother with a warming charm. With a wave of my hand, a bench is cleared of the piled snow, and I plop down on the frozen stone.
The air bites my exposed skin while the sun tries it’s best to warm the space. After a few minutes of deep breathing, the chilly atmosphere calms the worst of my anxieties. Being more or less trapped in a room filled with wizards that see me as nothing more than a magical baby factory is a fate worse than death, but I’m Hope Mikaelson.
Just because I’ve been dealing with silly, high school drama doesn’t mean that I have to play by their rules. If either of my parents were here, they would tell me to make them regret their flirting, the way they see me. Maybe I can, whether from quietly hexing them or enlisting Tom and Abraxas to ruin their evenings.
Only, footsteps crunching in the snow pulls me from my plotting. My head whips around, a scowl already present to scare away whichever Pureblood thinks they can take this opportunity to try to get under my skin. This is my quiet time after all, there are only a few more minutes before the next classes are scheduled to start.
But, I’m surprised when my gaze lands on a pretty, blonde Slytherin girl. The scowl is immediately whipped from my face, replaced by confusion as I try to place why this girl looks so familiar. A scared expression is painted across her pretty features, and it isn’t difficult to realize that she isn’t in my year, likely younger.
While wringing her hands in front of herself, the girl stands as still as a statue, just a stone throws distance from me, acting like I’m a wild animal about to gobble her up. Getting past the look on her face, I inevitably realize that this is the girl that I briefly danced with that night in Slytherin’s common room.
“Hello,” I call out, noticing when the girl flinches at my voice. “I’ve met you before, right?”
She nods, staring at my knees instead of making eye contact as she timidly responds, “Y-yes, after the Slytherin game.”
It isn’t like I was actually introduced to her, I have not one idea what her name is. But, she doesn’t continue talking— granted she also doesn’t leave. Based on my interactions with other witches in her house, I wouldn’t be surprised if she came here to hex me in some weird form of jealous revenge. That being said, I’ve never been attacked by someone this quiet before.
Not to mention that there’s no aggressiveness in her stance. If anything she looks like she’s trying to curl in on herself, make herself as small as possible. Animal instinct insists on making yourself as big as possible before striking, one thing humans still have from our more beastie days. Prey is who cowers, but I haven’t presented myself as a predator? I make it through about forty five seconds of complete silence before my patience breaks.
“I’m Hope, and you are…?” I ask, trailing off while tilting my head to the side.
“Eithne Sayre,” she tells me so quietly I may not have heard her if not for my supernatural senses. “I—I’m here to give my apologies for those that have attacked you. The other witches simply wish they received a fraction of the attentions you have, especially from those wizards.”
My breath puffs out in front of me, making my tiny gasp of surprise visible. Then I’m smiling kindly at the dainty looking girl, staying still so as to not frighten her into movement. Despite the kind words coming out of her mouth, Eithne seems just as frightened as when I first looked up at her.
“Thank you, I appreciate that. Not many have come to the same conclusion, especially in your house,” I say while leaning casually against the bench, ignoring the subfreezing environment we’re hanging out in. Ms. Sayre simply nods, turning her head slightly like she’s debating on running away, but I’m far too curious, “Is there a reason you sympathize with me, maybe?”
Sheer terror enters her gaze, and Eithne takes a step back while she looks from side to side. Whether she’s looking for help or to make sure no one heard me, I can’t tell, but I’m up and moving before I can think better of it.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I chant reassuringly with my hands outstretched, stopping a couple feet in front of her. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, I was just curious. No ulterior motive, I swear.”
Despite being startled by my sudden, rather fast movements, she does relax a touch. Not enough to seem comfortable, but when she speaks, her voice is strong, “My housemates are not always good to me. I’m a Halfblood and some believe that is enough to doom me as a free, community pin cushion, and you were kind to me on a night I never thought someone would ask me to dance. Someone who would do something like that, does not deserve all you have been put through.”
That was not what I was expecting, yet I calm further at the honesty radiating off of her, “I’m a Halfblood too, so the next person to give you any shit can talk to me about how good we are. You don’t deserve that either, not for being who you were born as.”
“Yes, I’d heard that,” she says and her lips barely turn up. “However, there almost never is a situation where you are fighting one Slytherin— that I could handle. Unfortunately, my housemates tend to attack in packs.”
A little chuckle escapes me at her candor, “I bet you could, I have Defense with Walburga. A house plate could disarm her if she isn’t acting enraged; if the other Pureblood witches follow the same leader as those in my class, I imagine your year is the same?”
“Should you hear what they say about Defense, you would never be able to look at them the same,” Eithne tells me quietly through a storm of giggles, taking a step closer. “Beyond basic self defense spells, most witches are taught that it is unseemly to be adept in such masculine activities. If the class was not required by the curriculum, you likely would not have any Pureblood witches in your class.”
My hand flies over my mouth to stifle a round of intense laughter, and enjoying the comradery that this girl seems to be lacking. At least, that’s the vibe I get by the twitchy respite that goes through her. I literally watch a nervous shiver go down her spine, and if it wasn’t for the ticking clock, I might not have sprung this on her.
“Well, sadly we should both go to class, but you should come study in the library with my friends and I sometime. If you see me, make sure to tell me hello, if you’d like.”
The genuine smile I send her way makes her eyes widen, and she blushes deeply before offering a shy grin. Opting to nod, Eithne jogs in the opposite direction that I need to go, and I genuinely hope that she follows through with that. I remember how miserable she looked standing alone at that party, if that’s been her Hogwarts experience because she was sorted into Slytherin, then surely becoming her friend can’t change the timeline too much. Right?