Veloxardor

Violet Potter had decided to spend the evening in the library in hopes of finding a moment of peace and quiet. All she had wanted was some peace and quiet. It was something hard enough to find in Gryffindor House on a calm day, but throw in Sirius Black and a gaggle of dementors and let Chaos reign. 

It had been a horrible year for Violet so far, which was honestly saying something after how the first two had been. Sirius Black was going to send Violet into an early grave by means of anxiety, that was if his knife didn’t do the job first.

All of the Hogwarts professors and staff had taken to stalking Violet. They watched her every move for the sake of her ‘protection’. It was invasive and demeaning and it had just gotten the students gossiping about her more. She had overheard some of the gossip herself. They were talking about her reactions to the dementors, about how Sirius Black was coming to kill her, some were still calling her the Heir of Slytherin and cursing her as a dark witch. 

Things with her friends were even rocky at the moment. Violet wasn’t talking to Hermione at the moment for various reasons. Those reasons included, but were not limited to, the fact that the other girl felt the need to control everything and everyone around her at all times. The other girl had always been a control freak and slightly condescending, but it was like it had been taken to a whole new level. Since the start of their third year Hermione had been nearly unbearable to be around, so Violet chose not to be around her much. Not that the other girl even seemed to notice, always attending to stacks and stacks of assignments. 

She was avoiding Ron at the moment because he was throwing a fit about something, she wasn’t sure what but knew it to be something different than the fit he’d thrown just a few days before. He had been acting weird all year too, getting mad about weird things and turning bright red at the oddest times. She knew he was easily embarrassed and quick to temper but it didn’t make sense. He also wasn’t talking to Hermione, except for when he was screaming at her about Crookshanks trying to eat Scabbers. 

Fred and George had been acting even shadier than usual, a feat for the two of them. She saw them at quidditch practice, but outside of that, their presence seemed to be more scarce. When Violet did see the two around the common room, they were usually in hushed conversations with other students, usually older boys, while glancing around suspiciously. She thought it was probably something to do with the twins' prank products, as the couple of times one of the twins caught her looking at them they would just wink at her and smirk. 

The youngest Weasley was about to drive her insane. Ginny’s hero worship had kicked into hyperdrive ever since the whole Chamber thing and Violet was about one more compliment away from hexing the girl. She wasn’t quite sure how the younger girl felt about her and it honestly didn’t matter to her. She wasn’t interested in having a devotee. The girl had already had unrealistic opinions about Violet before she had met her and Violet wasn’t sure how to dissuade her of that. She wasn’t sure she even could after the Chamber.

She was glad the girl didn’t die but saving her hadn’t done Violet any favors. No one outside of the chosen few even knew about anything that happened that night. Violet was pleased with that in a sense, but it also meant that ther majority of the school didn’t have a satisfactory answer about who opened the Chamber and if it was actually closed for good. As the rumors proved, people still suspected her.

Violet had a stressful summer that turned into a stressful school year and thanks to the presence of the dementors around Hogwarts even her sleeping hours became riddled with nightmares of curses and cackles and screams. 

Her quest for silence had led Violet to the library, where she decided to get a headstart on her potions essay. Violet found an empty table in a back corner of the library and got her parchment, quill, and ink pot all set up. She hung her bag hanging from the back of her chair before stepping away to a nearby shelf to grab a book that she knew would be helpful for her essay. 

Violet returned to her seat and pulled out a sugar quill that one of the Weasleys had picked up for her in Hogsmeade. She had been drawn into the book about how to properly identify and gather certain potions ingredients, and she happily munched away on her candy quill as she read. Violet had finished reading and was about three paragraphs into her essay when she started to notice that she felt… weird.

Violet set her quill down on the table beside her parchment and placed both hands flat on the table in front of her. She blinked a couple of times trying to get her eyes to focus. Her head was spinning slightly and her eyes were blurring in a way they hadn’t since she’d seen the eye healer in Knockturn over the summer.

Once a few years ago Vernon had gotten a big deal or promotion or something and her aunt and uncle had made both Violet and Dudley drink a small glass of champagne in celebration. Dudley had just taken it as an excuse to act even rowdier than normal, but not Violet. Violet had always been a petite girl and even such a small amount of alcohol had immediately taken effect. Violet didn’t loosen up the way her cousin did, she had instead became hyper aware of every thought she had and every movement she made.

It was a similar feeling, only different. Violet felt a sudden burst of heat at the core of her being. It was like a jolt to her person and for a brief and horrifying moment, Violet thought she peed herself.

She tensed as she felt her muscles start to relax of their own accord. The inner warmth starting to radiate outwards through her body, slowly and subtly. If Violet hadn’t been so attuned to her body she was sure she wouldn’t have even noticed. If Violet hadn’t spent hours upon hours of every day for ten years of her life sat in a cupboard with nothing but her mind and her body. As it was, her mind now screamed ‘danger!’ at her, on repeat.

Violet hastened to cap her ink bottle, she shoved her essay and writing supplies into her bag and all but ran from the library; feeling eyes on her as she left. She knew she could have made a more subtle exit, but she didn’t have the wherewithal to actually do so, as she all but shoved a group of boys in Slytherin colors out of her way.   

Violet walked quickly until she got to a hallway where there weren’t groups of students around and she took off running. She wasn’t sure where she was going and she didn’t quite care. The thought of going to Gryffindor Tower or the Hospital Wing didn’t even occur to her. Safe, she needed somewhere safe.

Violet ran down one corridor before turning down another. She was being followed. She didn’t know if it was someone who had followed her from the library for nefarious purposes or someone who just happened to see her run by and wanted to get a good curse or jinx in.

What she did know was that she had heard running footsteps behind her and cursing at one point in a British accent, which really narrowed down her pool of suspects. She ran harder and faster, her mind had started to haze over slightly as the heat grew. Her movements were slightly too sluggish and her bag was an unwelcome burden as she tried to quicken her pace.

Violet saw the shadow of a figure not her own being cast down a corridor every so often and she would take off in the opposite direction. She had no destination, purely driven on instincts and paranoia. Violet knew that at least one person in the castle was stalking her like prey on that night.

Violet cursed herself for not carrying her invisibility cloak with her at all times. It wasn’t a mistake she would make again. The farther into the castle she ran, the heavier her limbs felt, her skin warm to the touch in the frigid basement. 

After what felt like an eternity of Violet dragging her body in loops around the corridors of Hogwarts, she was nearly certain that she had lost her pursuer. She was standing in a dimly lit gray stone corridor with a long green rug. Violet made her way into one of the small alcoves that was hidden from the adjoining hall. Violet leaned against the cool stone wall, the cold surface soothing her burning skin. She allowed herself to slide to the floor, her head swimming, and her muscles finally giving out.

***

The evening was growing late as Marcus Flint made his way towards the Hogwarts' dungeons. Nearly an hour had passed since he had called an end to practice and he was just ready to get back to his dorm. As the captain, Marcus had to wait until everyone else was off of the pitch and out of the locker room before he could head back himself.

Marcus hated the showers down by the pitch, so instead of using them he had merely wiped himself down with a towel after practice. He switched out his sweaty jersey for the jumper he had worn earlier in the day, planning on taking an actual shower once he was in the comforts of the dungeons. 

Though, he was starting to regret just how quick the wipe down had been, as the thin sheen of sweat still clinging to him started to freeze in the cold corridor. Marcus pulled his cloak tighter around his body as he hastened his descent to the dungeons.

The journey was a familiar one to Marcus, having taken it multiple times per week since he became Slytherin’s quidditch captain in his fourth year.  His chosen route was slightly longer than strictly necessary, choosing to take the backways and side halls that tend to be less frequented, in hopes of coming across as few people as possible. Something about tonight, however, was odd.

It was late in the evening, nearing curfew, and yet Marcus had come across several other students on his walk to the dungeons. Each person he came upon made the uneasy feeling in his gut grow stronger and stronger.

The first had been a group of younger Slytherin boys, library books in hand. They had been in a heated conversation via whispers when they spotted Marcus and immediately fled in the direction of their common room. It was odd behavior, even knowing the way most of the school saw him. Large and intimidating. He didn’t mind that that was his reputation, as it meant people knew not to mess with him. Even so, odd.

Marcus took a shortcut he knew of a hidden path behind a tapestry, and came out from another tapestry that was hidden from view by a pillar. He stepped out into the hall and instantly set eyes on the two Weasley menaces who were staring at an old piece of parchment. He saw both twins jolt in surprise and look up and immediately at him. Interesting. One twin shoved the parchment into his pocket while they both looked Marcus over. He quirked a brow as the twins seemed to notice his quidditch bag and then glanced at each other. As one, they clicked their heels together and stood at attention, each raising a different hand in salute.

““Captain!”” they shouted in unison.

And with that, they spun on their heels and disappeared down the hall behind them. Marcus continued on, baffled, but not caring enough to really wonder about what a Weasley was up to. As long as it didn't affect him.

It seemed like the journey was much longer that night than usual. Marcus kept hearing noises that he wrote off as the wind or a ghost. He thought he saw the end of a cloak disappear around a corner at one point and shadows at other times. He had his wand in hand before too long. Of course other students were allowed to walk the hall, teachers too, but it was nearing curfew and these halls were usually empty, and Marcus was honestly just feeling paranoid.

He was in the lowest levels of the school, the coldest part, and only about a minute or two from the Slytherin entrance when Marcus turned a corner and saw what was undoubtedly a person. A male student if he had to guess, but it was hard to tell as Marcus could only really see the silhouette of a relatively tall person, and their shadow flickering across the floor and wall.

“Who are you?” His voice came out slightly gruffer than normal, having not spoken much since he’d dismissed his players. 

Marcus stepped closer, trying to discern who was in the basement at this time of night. Marcus wasn’t a prefect, but he was a 6th year and quidditch captain, and that earned him some kind of authority and respect in the dungeons. Marcus couldn’t make out the other boys face, as he was backlit by a torch and there wasn’t much other light. 

“Lumos-“

Before Marcus was half way through the two syllable word, the other figure was turning and fleeing. The tip of Marcus wand came alight just in time to see red-lined robes fluttering after the body they were attached to. A lion down that way at any time was curious. Marcus decided to check out the corridor the figure had been lurking around, just slightly out of his way.

He kept his wand tip lit and walked down the dim hallway. He knew that corridor, though it was one that was rarely traveled, as few went to where it led. The floor and walls were both made of a light gray stone, a long emerald green and silver runner rug ran down the length of the long hall, small alcoves cut out every so often along one of the walls. 

Marcus shone his light down the hallway and didn’t see anyone or anything else. He still had an uneasy feeling in his gut and decided to look a little further. He had walked nearly half way down the hall and hadn’t seen anything when he heard something that sounded like a whimper. Marcus walked a bit further and peeked into the fourth alcove.

***

Violet hurt all over. She was starting to think that someone had cursed her to die via some demented form of the flu. She half laid on top of her puddled robes, cheek squished against cool stone, as her awareness flickered in and out. It was so hot, she’d never been so hot before in her life. She thought her skin might blister if it were to keep on for much longer.

She didn’t know how long she had been laying there. Seconds, minutes, hours, when a bright light a few feet away from her jolted Violet back to reality. She stared up at the figure in confusion and then horror. Had her stalker found her? Was this it? She couldn’t see who it was as the ‘lumos’ blocked her view, until they lowered their wand slightly to the side, allowing their features to be illuminated.

The horror fled her body in an instant, and unknowingly to her, her expression. She knew this wasn’t her stalker, and if it was, he wouldn’t do anything too bad to her. She didn’t know how she knew that, gut instinct maybe? She was still confused though.

”Flint?” Her voice croaked and a shutter racked through her body. That was a new development.

The older boy looked just as confused as she felt, though she noticed he also looked slightly pink in the dim light.

”Potter? What are you doing down here? What’s wrong with you?”

Violet opened her mouth to respond when the world went dark. 

***

Marcus let go of his wand and jumped forward as Violet Potter’s body went limp. His large hand came between the girl’s head and the hard stone wall a split second before she nearly slammed into it. His other hand was braced against Violet’s neck and shoulder in an attempt to support her. Only, touching Violet was like touching the sun. The girl was hot. And not like… well… okay, well. Her skin was on fire. 

He would have thought her drunk, it would explain the state he had found her in. He had been shocked to find Violet Potter hidden away in the alcove, letting out little whimpers. She had been leaning against the wall that had almost just brained her, skin a flush pink and her hair fully loose and wild, having presumably fallen out of her customary braid. She sat on a pile of her school robes, her tie, socks, and shoes discarded off to one side. Her calf-length school skirt was pooled around her thighs and her blouse sleeves rolled haphazardly, while the chest was unbuttoned to a near improper level.

Marcus couldn’t help but blush and try not to stare and embarrass the both of them. He would have thought that Violet was drunk but it didn’t add up knowing what little he did about her, and with the lurking lion earlier, and this location of all places. And then the girl had fainted and he had touched her.

She had woken up at that. Well, as much as he thought she could be awake in the state she was in. He had dropped his wand, but it was still lit where it layed on the floor a few feet away from them. Marcus could see the hazy expression on Violet’s face through the distorted light. He had never been this close to her before. 

He didn’t realize his hand was still on the girl’s neck until she leaned into it. He pulled away, startled, and she let out another whimper. He was about to stand up when she reached out and pulled one of his hand up against the side of her face, letting out a sigh at the contact and nuzzling against it slightly. 

Marcus was shocked, to say the least. He had seen his fair share of Violet Potter over the past couple years. The little girl who had dominated as seeker had fascinated him and he had noticed little things here and there. One thing was that Violet Potter didn’t seem to like to be touched. He’d seen her avoid it time and time again, from different people, in different senarios. And so, her behavior now was a shock for him. There had to be something seriously wrong with her. His thoughts went back to the Gryffindor that he had seen right outside this very hall. The one who must have been following a clearly intoxicated Violet. Marcus felt a dark urge to hunt. 

His urge to murder and maim was snuffed in an instant as he felt the sensation of his hand being dragged across skin. Violet had her head tilted to the side as she moved his hand across her neck and slightly into the hairline of her thick black curls. His fingers tightened involuntarily, tugging slightly before letting go, causing Violet to let out a sigh that Marcus valiantly chose to ignore.

Marcus had an idea of what was happening and knew he needed to get her help soon, before someone else saw her like this. The Hospital Wing was the obvious choice, but Snape was so close. Everyone knew that the relationship between potions master and girl-who-lived was complicated, but Marcus knew he would help, he just had to get Violet there. 

“Potter…” Marcus repeated the name a couple of times before trying, 

“Violet…”

The girl stared up at him, green eyes twinkling in a way that wasn’t natural.

”How do you feel, Violet?” Marcus asked in an uncharacteristically gentle voice.

”I don’t…” A cloud of confusion entered the green eyes that stared into his soul, a small wrinkle forming between her brows. He smoothed it out with his thumb without even thinking about it. 

“It’s okay, I’m going to take you to get help. The Hospital Wing is too far so were going to go to Snape and get an antidote and you’ll be fine.”

He had been trying to assure her but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. Violet’s face flashed through a myriad of emotions: panic, confusion, wariness, along with something else that he couldn’t place. Once again, the girl opened her mouth to say something only to fall over in a faint.

Marcus was much closer this time, still crouched down, and easily caught her. He lifted the back of his hand to her forehead, seeing if the same method would wake her twice. It didn’t. She barely stirred.

Marcus was panicked and not quite sure what to do. Okay, he knew what to do but it didn’t mean he wasn’t still panicking. Mind slightly blanking in the face of the unconscious and clearly potioned little witch laying in his arms. 

He knew what he had to do. Marcus leaned Violet back so she was propped up in one of the corners before looking around the alcove. He grabbed her bag from where she had discarded it, put her tie in one of the front pockets and carefully placed her shoes inside so they didn’t get any papers dirty. 

Marcus looked at Violet and held back another blush. It wasn’t right of him to think that way while she was in this state. Whether or not she had a fever, it was literally freezing in the dungeons and she was wearing far too little. Marcus picked up the pair of socks and carefully slipped them on the girls feet, making a conscious effort not to think about what he was doing as he slid the thick socks up to her knee, his fingers barely brushing against warm skin.

He looked at the cloak that Violet was still partially on top of, a thin cotton meant for warm weather that would do nothing to keep her warm on a cold night. He thought about it for a moment before taking a peak around the hallway outside the alcove. Though he knew there was really only a chance of one person coming this way, it wouldn’t look good to be caught in this position and Marcus wasn’t sure he would have time to even try to explain himself before being cursed to death. 

Marcus unclasped his thick cloak and draped it over his quidditch bag, where he’d placed it on the floor. He pulled off his merino jumper, black with gray cuffs, the colors of Flint; and was quick to swap it for the warm cloak. He cast a quick warming charm on both garments, as both him and Violet would only be wearing a single layer of cotton underneath.

He gathered up the jumper and headed over to wear Violet still lay, unconscious but restless. It reminded Marcus of when his cousin had made him dress up her dolls as kids, and that thought was highly disconcerting to the boy. It wasn’t hard to get her head through the large neckhole once Marcus figured out how to get her large mass of unruly curls through the hole. It felt wrong touching her hair, touching her, while she was in this state. He tried to keep his touches as methodical as possible. Professional. Hell if he knew what the profession was but he wouldn’t be one of those sick bastards who got off on potioned girls. 

Marcus threw his quidditch bag across his back and Violet’s bag over one shoulder before stooping down to pull the little seeker into his arms. He lifted her into a bridal carry, her cloak wrapped around her haphazardly. She groaned and shifted slightly and he thought for a second that she was going to wake up, instead she nuzzled her face into the side of his neck and let out a sigh, the warm air leaving goosebumps as it ghosted across his skin. 

Marcus followed the emerald-rugged corridor towards a wing that few visited. He knew it was risky but it was also the safest bet right now for both his and Violet’s reputations and honor. Marcus couldn’t give two shits about his reputation, but he would never allow Violet’s honor to be besmirched. Not by his hands. Not when she had been potioned and nothing had happened. 

Marcus' thoughts once again went back to the mysterious person that had presumably drugged and followed Violet. He wondered what they had slipped her, as most love and lust potions he knew of didn’t do this to a person. His grip on Violet grew slightly tighter as his thoughts grew darker. He would find out who did this and they would know to never even think of a repeat attempt. By the time Marcus was done with them they would be lucky if they ever sired children. Marcus had been so lost in his rage-filled thoughts as he marched down the hall, that he hadn’t noticed Violet shift slightly in his hold, turning into him and  bringing her arms up around his neck.

The hall with the alcove had a door at the end that led into an area with three sets of stairs leading in different directions. Marcus continued straight ahead and followed a portrait lined hall that skirted the back side of the Slytherin common room. There were very few doors on this hall and all the ones that they passed had been locked for many years.

Marcus had only been down here a couple of times in the five years he had been at Hogwarts , but he knew he had the correct door by the snake statue that stood guard outside of it.

“Tell the Professor that Marcus Flint is here to see him and that it’s an emergency.”

The snake stared at him for a second too long in Marcus' opinion before it turned around on its pedestal and disappeared into a small hole in the wall. It was only a few more seconds before the door in front of him seemed to open of its own accord.

”Enter,” a voice drawled from somewhere inside.