Stars
𝄥𝄞─secrets of the abandoned classroom─𝄇
Celeste Evans seemed to blend in with her surroundings. No one ever noticed her in the corridors, great hall, library, or even classes. She was just so ordinary – just a solitary Ravenclaw, impossible to spot although hiding in plain sight. She was clever not to attract any attention, always keeping herself to herself.
With her head bowed down and auburn hair cloaking her delicate yet alluring features, she hurried away from the Great Hall and towards the Gryffindor Tower, wanting to ask her sister something.
"Lil?" She whispered tentatively into her sister's ear, looking nervously around as James Potter and his cronies stared at her. "I've got something to ask you."
"Alright, Cel," Lily Evans turned her head to a fellow Gryffindor. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Alice!"
"Lily, do you know someone that is in Slytherin and looks like Sirius Black?" Celeste said.
"Yes, Regulus Black, Sirius's younger brother. Why do you ask?"
"Um, nothing." Celeste replied hurriedly, knowing that Lily would never approve of her befriending a Slytherin after the incident with Severus, and a muggle-hating one more specifically. "Thanks, Lily. I'll be going."
"Alright, bye, Celeste...?" The sentence sounded rather like a question that trailed after Celeste as she hurried away.
It wasn't often that her sister talked to her, let alone anyone.
"Who was that girl?" Sirius Black asked as they hid behind the corner, spying on Lily and Celeste.
"No idea." James replied, staring after her. "She looks like my darling Lily-flower."
"We could try and find out?" Remus said. "But she wasn't wearing her house-tie."
"It would be fun." Peter squeaked out. "Lily knows her, yet we don't."
And from that point, the marauders kept their eyes open for someone with auburn hair – slightly darker than Lily's – and emerald eyes.
The strange thing was that every time they saw her and had the intention of walking towards her, she disappeared. James and Sirius were very frustrated by this fact. "She was just right here!" James complained as they rounded a corner. "I saw her!"
"She's...not on the map?" Remus scanned the parchment for anyone near the corridor they were standing in. "There's no one near this corridor, Prongs."
"But I saw her!' He declared firmly.
Sirius sighed. "Do you need to get your eyes checked, Prongsie? There's clearly no one here."
Regulus stood, concealed by the stone pillar as he listened to his older brother's conversation with his Gryffindor friends. How could the girl go unnoticed? He wondered, doing a quick invisibility spell so he could slip away. Their silly 'map' could spot anyone – but her. He went out to the snow-covered courtyard alone, wanting to breathe some fresh air.
He strolled down the frosty path, scarf flickering in the zephyr, unconsciously humming verses of the Syrinx that had been engraved in his mind by the auburn-haired girl who played the flute. The landscape was pure white and the lake had frozen over. At a closer glance, Regulus could see some outré blade lines on the mirror-like ice. Raising his head, he could see papers scattered across the entire length of the lake, covering the blade lines.
"Accio paper." He pointed his wand at the papers – they flew to his hand, and he read the title out. "Chant de Linos, André Jolivet. Property of C. Bluebell E."
◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹
Bluebell. The name reverbated in his mind. C. Bluebell E. I wonder who that stands for. Regulus exhaled deeply, forming a puff of mist in front of him as he trudged up the slope, clutching the music sheets as if it was his lifeline. Bluebell sounds like a muggle name, perhaps she's a half-blood? He wasn't sure. But he couldn't waste time scouting every nook and cranny of the Hogwarts Castle — he had something to do.
Learning Dark spells.
They were hidden in the dusty grey corners of the forbidden section in the Hogwarts library, waiting for students to borrow and devour its contents. Never seeing daylight, those Dark books were all on Death Eaters' Must Read list. Regulus suppressed a shudder as he browsed the bookshelf, spotting books with what looked like blood spatters on Absolutely Forgivable. Tentatively, he reached out and pulled Torturing out of the dusty shelves, stifling a sneeze as bits of grey fluff flew out.
The very idea of torturing replused him, but he had to do it. The Dark Lord has "invited" him to join his cousin Bellatrix, Lestrange, Montague and several others to go on a muggle raid next week, and according to Bella, the Dark Lord would watch them torture the muggles, and if he performed well enough, Regulus would be marked.
He didn't want to be marked, not one bit.
Pureblood supremacy was one thing, but being forever branded as the Dark Lord's servant was another. Regulus had grown up with the ideology "Muggles are disgusting" even though he had never encountered any. It was preposterous really. If the muggles didn't bother us, why did we have to bother them? They were disgusting anyway, shouldn't we just stay away from them?
He saw no point in torturing muggles. It was sick too, torturing people. Regulus thought, entering an unused classroom, silencing and warding it.. Even if they were muggles, torturing them would make us disgusting — with others' blood on our hands.
He should have ran off with his brother... He shouldn't have stayed in Grimmauld Place.
There was no going back now. Regulus heaved a breath to calm himself, and steeled himself to learn the Dark spells.
The most repulsing spells in the book were the Entail-expelling curse, the Gouging spell and the three Unforgivables. The entail-expelling curse was to make the victim throw up his organs one by one, the last being their heart. Regulus felt as if his very soul was breaking apart when he slashed his wand at the conjured rat.
"Iactare omnia." He intoned, following the book's instructions. Nothing seemed to happen to the rat except for it to spit a small puddle of blood out of its mouth.
"Iactare omnia!" He cried again, and it worked. Slughorn was right, Regulus thought bitterly, turning away from the fast dying rat. I am a fast learner.
He decided that the Gouging spell would please the Dark Lord most. It was one of Bella's favourite hobbies, gouging people's skin out. He once witnessed Bella carve multiple slurs onto a muggle, including the word "mudblood". Feeling sorry for the rat, he casted a quick healing spell and took a deep breath. "Exsculpere sanguine!" The flash of neon orange light shot from his wand and hit the rat, incising the word "Apologies" onto its body. Blood spilled from the wound, and Regulus quickly healed it.
The scars were still clearly seen.
"Salazar." Regulus cursed and gritted his teeth, closing his eyes.
If these Dark spells were already this horrible, the Unforgivables must be worse...
There was a strange hissing sound nearby, and he opened his eyes. What was that?
A thin wisp of mist was emerging from the cracks of the stone wall in front of him. The white vapour dotted with gold didn't seem like the smoke rising from the black lake – it seeped through, slowly drifting towards Regulus. He scrambled back, startled, as the spineless tentacles glided closer, multiplying in number. It looked ethereal and gossamer-fragile, harmless, Regulus decided. It writhed and coiled with delight, as he approached, its ghostly scarves wrapping his vision in a maze of mist. It pulled him towards the wall, and he tried to escape – he couldn't walk into solid walls – but he couldn't. The mist was too strong, and the wall loomed closer and closer, he was going to smash into it, this is his end—
—Regulus closed his eyes tightly, wishing that he was never born into the Black family – I wouldn't be in this mess if I weren't – there was a loud crack, the wall had split into half just before he crashed into it, the stones were crumbling down, beneath his eyelids he saw sparks dancing among the white mist tinged with red...he felt the ground vibrate, he heard the rumble of stones falling – he was going to be crushed—
—He opened his eyes, dust and mist filled his vision, tendrils of it still wrapped him in a oddly cold yet comfortable embrace, it pulled him backwards, his feet dragging on the floor, he gasped as sparks emerged from the rubble he stood before, heat exploded in front of him in waves, it was just so unbearably hot, he knew he wouldn't last long in this extreme heat—
—The mist pulled him back further, the temperature dropped until it was bitter and he was plunged into the murky darkness of what seemed to be the dungeons – he twisted his head around and saw stones around him, there was a crashing sound and he whipped his head back – the stones cranked and banged, stacking themselves back up, sealing the diminutive room with only a crack for Regulus to escape and not even mice could fit in—
—He struggled to loosen the misty bonds to flee, he was claustrophobic but the white mist was so strong, they refused to let go of him, he felt then tug him from behind, his back hit solid wood, he heard a masculine voice yell, the mist tightened his hold – he couldn't breathe – he needed to flee, he needed to go, there were voices, yelling, whimpering, pleading—
"Focus! You can control it!"
"I can't!"
"No!"
"Breath! You can do this!"
"I can't!"
"Let me go!"
The voices mixed together – he didn't know which were his and which were not – he just couldn't breathe, the tendrils of mists held so tight—
—The solid wall behind him crashed open, the mist pulled him backwards, there was a glint of something golden – was that the snitch? – Regulus turned her head and a familiar redhead met his gaze and he gasped—
The mists loosened their hold, and he collapsed onto the floor, seeing stars, the image of horrifying silvery-red pupils imprinted in his mind.
◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹
"Focus, Miss Evans!"
"I'm trying to!" Celeste murmured.
It wasn't the first (and definitely wouldn't be the last) time she had to practice controlling her power with Headmaster Dumbledore. White mist encircled the two, and Celeste tried desperately to hold in the Obscurial Parasite that resided inside her. She wasn't dangerous, unlike other obscurials, hers was special. It wasn't a black mass – it was a gloop of pure white speckled with gold. Her Obscurial wouldn't – couldn't hurt anyone, but her power could be...explosive if uncontrolled.
Celeste took a deep breath and blew it out again, willing her mind to be silent and harness her Obscurial. Thoughts dissipated, she spoke.
Please come back?
...
Your soulmate is out there.
...
Just come back, please?
...
You need your soulmate. He needs help.
...
No, please! Please! She cried out.
She spiralled out of control – her Obscurial wanted its own way when she wanted another – it wrenched its way out of her, the white-gold mists twirling around, she heard someone yell, she knew she had to try controlling it, but it didn't listen—
For the first time in her life, she let go. She couldn't control her Obscurial — it was too hard. The mists stretched out eagerly, exploring its newfound freedom, and her eyes glowed silver as the Obscurial whipped around her, the wind making her hair swirl around her, the mists bolting straight for the locked wooden door.
Albus Dumbledore was at a loss of what to do. There was a controllable-yet-dangerous Obscurial on the loose and this had never happened before. He didn't know what she was doing or what the Obscurial was thinking...
-DISCONTINUED-