Chapter 4 : Son of a Mutilated, Wailing Banshee
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“How was it?” Hermione asked the moment I walked in through the door. She felt guilty. I could see it in her bright eyes.
“It was brilliant,” I muttered sarcastically, plotting myself on the sofa. I looked to Harry and saw how he was sitting in James’ favourite seat. Their postures were exactly the same as well.
“Did he make you sort out files?” Harry asked, looking back at me. It's like having Lily Evans look back at me, making the moment feel a lot more uncomfortable, considering what I had just unearthed in Snivelly’s dungeon.
I nodded, “Yup.”
“You're back early though?” his brows were furrowed. Please, STOP LOOKING LIKE JAMES! Honestly, one of these nights I'll creep into your room and twist a flexy wand around your throat! No, I wouldn't do that...
“He gave me a stern warning and I promised not to do it again,” I yawned, bored. Looking around the room, I caught a little, glistening golden trophy sitting on a mahogany shelf. Frowning – I hadn't seen that back in my time – I got up and walked towards it.
The others watched as I tread slowly. I put my finger out and poked at it, recoiling slightly as I felt the ice cold touch of metal. I bent my knees slightly and brought my face towards the medal.
Oh Dear Fuzzing Merlin.
“Lily Evans and James Potter?!” I gasped, eyes still on the golden engravings of James Potter – Head Boy and Lily Evans – Head Girl. “James Potter?!” I breathed. James Potter? Head Boy? Un-bloody-believable.
I felt the others get up from their seats to come join me. Suddenly, Hermione and Harry were standing right besides me, Harry eyeing me very carefully before looking back at the medal.
“Yeah, that was my dad,” he sighed, looking at the medal longingly, “And my mum.”
My mouth was hanging open. Oh my Godzilla. Head Boy and Head Girl... No wonder they got married! Wow, that's... scary. That just proves my theory of head boys and girls.
“So his head did deflate...” I sighed, moving back from the medal.
The others looked at me weirdly.
I shook my head lightly, realizing what I had just said, and smiled broadly, “I heard he had... a big... head,” I trailed, drawing an imaginary, extremely large head around mine. My excuse was bloody crap, but they seemed to believe me. Phew.
Hermione looked to Harry before she spoke. He nodded lightly.
“Selene, would you want to come over to Ron's house for Christmas?” Was it just me or did she seem slightly sheepish? A Christmas Dinner to make up for her little out of control frenzy? Hell yeah.
“Yeah and we can squeeze you in Ginny's room if Fred and George don't want to share rooms,” Ron said excitedly, joining in the conversation.
Oho, he has brothers!
“We’re having it at Grimmauld Place this year,” Harry told him.
I ignored whatever Harry said and asked the most important question, “You have brothers?”
“Yeah, five of them.” Oho! Five! Ohohoho. Count me in! “But one of them's the biggest prick and works for the ministry and another one's out in Romania, working with dragons.”
I looked at him, slightly stunned and awed before smiling innocently, “Alright, cool.”
There was silence while I smiled. Hello, talk a little. And that's what the famous Harry Potter did.
“You know, you look familiar,” he said suddenly.
I turned to him, smile still on my face though the raging dragon in my stomach frowned ever so fiercely. “How so?”
“I don't know.” His brows furrowed again, reminding me so much of James (whenever he was to answer a Transfiguration question - bloody clueless) and the titanical sized urge to hit him went over me. My mind acted as the bloody iceberg, stopping me from whacking him with a fist.
I chuckled lightly at the sweet memory of a loud thump that sounded when I had smacked James on the back of the head... Ah, bloody great times.
“And you can meet Si-!” Hermione yelled enthusiastically, only to be cut off by Harry.
“Meet my Godfather,” Harry said, shooting Hermione a 'watch-what-you-say-or-there'll-be-godzilla-sized-bloody-hell' kind of look. Her face slightly fell as I raised an eyebrow. Godfather? Whoa, oh whoa, Godfather! Someone my age, for once! At least, I’m assuming…
I forced another little smile.
The days flew by, things uninteresting happening on each and every one of them. That is, until Sunday morning before breakfast, where the Malfoy boy stopped me and the other three once again.
“Hey Roster,” he winked, his sleek blonde hair totally begging to be messed up. Oh, he is hot.
“Malfoy.” I nodded curtly, smiling a small smile as to infuse my persona with mystery.
He smirked at me before raising an eyebrow – oh so attractively – towards the other three, who sneered at him.
“You'll be going to Hogsmeade then?” His simper was just to die for. My knees buckled right there and his smirk just got a thousand feet wider.
I wiggled my eyebrows lightly before pulling Hermione forward with me, leaving him simpering after me. Not much longer and he'd be mine for a night.
“You really shouldn't associate with him,” Hermione warned me as Harry and Ron caught up with us. I smiled at her thankfully.
“He's the worse kind of pure blood,” Ron muttered, disgruntled.
“I”m not so sure.” I said softly. Of course he wasn't. If he was just some arrogant prat who happened to be brought up by stiff pure bloods, then of course he wasn’t. My grandmother... Now, she’s a completely different story. She was pure, pure, pure crack evil.
We set off for Hogsmeade after a quick breakfast. Oh, how I missed Hogsmeade. It brought tears to my eyes just thinking about it... Not really. But oh, I loved it.
I had totally owned Hogsmeade back in the day. Well, really, only Honeydukes. The Marauders had claimed Zonko's and the other shops were just little 'sharing' stores which the marauders and I 'shared'. Ha, so they thought.
Then a thought hit me. The shop owners... THEY WOULD KNOW! Oh geez, can my life get any harder? I'm guessing it can... It wasn’t so hard right now. I pushed the thought out of my head. It had been twenty years ago. Maybe they've all gotten a good knock on the head since then.
“You've never been here, have you?” Hermione asked me as we walked through the gateway, which bore 'HOGSMEADE' engraved into the wood.
I looked around the place as memories flooded my head. Sirius Black and I's famous little duel was right there - a few feet away from where we were standing. That had been in our third year. Our first actual duel... Well, that had been in our first, the instant we had stepped foot into the Gryffindor Common Room. Ah, memories.
“It's this way to the Three Broomsticks,” Hermione said, leading the way through the mushy snow.
I smiled as I recalled throwing a bottle of butterbeer at Peter Pettigrew’s thick head. Ha, he deserved it for being so obtuse.
The little bell jingled and I sat myself closest to the window, back turned.
Ron ordered us each a bottle of butterbeer and I resisted the temptation the slam my bottle at the back of Harry's head when it arrived. Of course, it was harder now that he was sitting next to me.
“Hey, so I missed out on the O.W.Ls, right?” I would honestly die and send myself back to St. Mungos with Dr. Freak if I didn't. Going through it once was enough.
The others nodded and I felt an instant relief.
Grinning slightly, I snatched at my bottle hastily, eager to taste the deliciousness of it all. The other three watched me as I glugged at my bottle, only slowing down once I had realised that they were watching me. I smiled sheepishly.
“It's good,” I muttered defensively. The others laughed and continued on their conversation.
Suddenly, there was a soft rattle on the glass window behind me. I turned my body around to see a certain blonde hair Slytherin smirking.
He jerked his head towards the side and raised an eyebrow. I returned his little smirk and turned back around to face the table. It kept him guessing to see whether I'd go or not.
There was another little tap and when I turned around his smirk was wider and deeply irresistible. He wiggled his eyebrow once and turned away, sure that I'd follow.
Call me a fool, whatever, but I did.
“Hey guys, I want to go get some fresh air okay? I don't like closed in spaces much.” The other three stopped their conversation and nodded. I smiled thankfully and got off of my seat.
I walked slowly out towards the door, looking around before turning to the side of the building where Draco Malfoy stood, hands in his pockets, hair slightly windswept.
I fixed up my beanie and scarf before walking up towards him, pouting.
“What do you want Malfoy?” I asked as I reached him. He merely raised his left eyebrow, smirking as he did so.
I knew exactly what he wanted, but hey, he wouldn't know that I had been playing dumb. So, I raised my eyebrow back at him.
“Follow me, Roster,” he ordered, holding on to my wrist and pulling me further and further around the building, into the more 'secluded' area of Hogsmeade.
I shuddered as I the haunted shrieking shack came into view. Never, in my prolonged life had I ever stepped foot in it. Never had, never will. The howls and screams, oh, the nightmares.
He stopped abruptly causing myself to bump into his hard back. I scowled under my breath; a warning would’ve been nice. It quite hurt my chest.
He turned around and held my shoulders, his smirk growing wider and wider with the minute. Gosh, his face must be huge to be able to hold a smile that wide...
I bit down on my bottom lip seductively and looked at him with round eyes, fluttering my eyelashes at him
His smirk was stunning as he pulled my shoulders towards him hastily, crushing his lips onto mine as he moved his hand to the back of my neck. I pulled back softly but sharply, causing his smirk to drastically change to a longing look.
He held his hand at the back of my neck and pushed me forward, gently, only to be stopped again by a hand placed firmly on his firm chest.
He looked at me inquiringly, his hand still at the back of my neck, rubbing it lightly. I simpered at him, pushing my lips out a bit. He licked his own and the rubbing ceased.
I smiled broadly and pushed away from him, turning back carefully and stepping over rocks and twigs.
“Roster, wait,” he called out. I knew it. I was just too hard to resist. My insides cackled maniacally. I didn't turn around. Instead, I continued walking ahead. Not long after, I heard him running after me. I wasn’t cruel, so I didn't make him run too much. Almost in no time, Malfoy caught up to me and held my wrist again, gripping it much more tightly.
“Don't go,” he said. I wiped the evil smile off of my face before turning towards him.
“You think you could just take me into the forest and start sno-”
Before I could finish, he stepped forward and kissed me even more aggressively, almost desperately. My insides relaxed out of content.
This time, I didn't hold back or release him. Instead I pushed back at him, holding on to his shoulder for grip. All too soon, he slid his tongue over my lips. Needless to say, I parted mine and let him explore.
He held onto my arms tightly, making sure I couldn't run off again. Not that I wanted to. The kiss was fiery!
He pulled back to catch a breath. Ha! Even I could hold my breath longer than him. Of course, I was probably much more experienced. He was panting slightly as I smiled mightily. He looked down at me and I blinked calmly, gazing into his silver eyes. He grinned conceitedly.
I let out a little chuckle and let him go, walking back to the Three Broomsticks. This time, he didn't follow.
“Where've you been?” Ron asked as he held his almost empty bottle in his hand.
“I couldn't help but look around the shops,” I lied, and I felt bad, “Sorry.” I added.
The others nodded and I smiled sweetly at the three. Maybe too sweetly as they looked at me slightly stunned.
We spent the rest of the day exploring Hogsmeade, my beloved Honeydukes (although I took extreme care to hide my face around the owners), even the Marauder's famous Zonkos. Oh, how much I was missing out on back in my days.
We came back out of the shops carrying multiple paper bags, filled with sweets, gadgets and dungbombs.
As we were walking back to the castle, we passed the glass windowed Madam Puddifoots and just inside, I had a tiny little glimpse of Draco Malfoy snogging Pansy Parkinson passionately over the table. I couldn't help but snort and shake my head at him – Hermione glancing at me uncertainly before ignoring my weird behaviour. Bloody Malfoy.
The weeks went by, Malfoy and I exchanging slight glances whenever we were within proximity, and before I knew it, the last day at Hogwarts before the Christmas Holidays came.
Snivelly treated me worse than usual, which was sad. I was really cut up about it. No, not really. I felt satisfied that he was being meaner. It meant I had made my mark. And what a painful mark that was. But being an angel as I was, I did not tell any spirit nor body about what I'd discovered so cruelly.
Especially not Harry. That would have to be worse than putting him under the Cruciatus Curse, I imagine. He could just had an ultra violent breakdown if he even considered the possibility that his mother and Snape were to go out. Even I shudder at the horrid thought. Yuck.
Hermione and I packed our backpacks of clothes for we were to be spending the Christmas holidays in Number Twelve Grimmauld Place... wherever that is.
For some peculiar reason, Dumbledore had to write the address on a piece of parchment. Hermione told me to memorise it and then burned it to little teeny bits and left it crumbling and wheezing on the floor. What in Merlin’s pants was that about?
“Would I need swimmers?” I asked her, hoping it would be something like summer over wherever we're going.
“No, we'll still be in London,” she answered and I frowned disappointedly, putting my swimmers back in a drawer.
I didn't like the winter much, nor the summer. I loved Autumn. The one season when all the little plants die, including the bloody willow's leaves - oh I hate it – brought about some sort of sadistic pleasure.
“I didn't get anyone presents,” I told her, actually quite worried.
“Don't worry,” she said, not entirely focused on the conversation as she was rooting through my suitcase for clothes. I frowned at her slightly and folded my jumper neatly, smiling at the finished product.
“Selene,” she said slowly, the digging through my suitcase like a cute little mole stopped.
“Hm?” I continued folding my clothes.
“There's something you should know,” Oh Merlin, it better not be that I have to sleep out in the shed. I hate that. Or maybe Ron's sister snores badly... I hope that's not the case either. Maybe his mother's a banshee... Oh dear Merlin, a wailing banshee in the house? I would cry.
“Go on,” I told her, stopping to look at her.
“Harry's Godfather...” Oh, he's a fifty-year-old nutcase? Let's hope not. He's deceased? He's a ghost? Oh boy oh boy, the suspense!
“Yeah...?” I nodded at her slowly, raising an eyebrow.
“He's... He's not all that bad. There was just a really big misunderstanding,” Hermione's brows furrowed and she looked grim. Misunderstanding? He's not all that bad? He's a giant! I knew it!
I didn't say anything. But inside my head, a voice was yelling at her to hurry the hell up and continue. I'm not good with patience. Patience was never my virtue.
“He's not that murderer,” Wait, wait, wait... A BLOODY MURDERER?! And I'm spending the holidays with him? WHAT IN THE BLOODY UNIVERSE?! Before I could scream at her hysterically, the words she muttered acted like a bullet through my skull.
“It wasn't Sirius Black to have killed them,” she looked at me hopefully, to see if I would understand.
I didn't. My mouth dropped open all the way into the core of the earth, until it touched the pinnacle of hell and I felt a huge wave of deep piss anger erupt from my chest, my stomach, my brain and out threw my nostrils... or arse. Either way, it came out again.
I would be spending my bloody Christmas with bloody Sirius Black... THAT FUDGING SON OF A MUTILATED, WAILING BANSHEE!
A/N: Hello everyone! :D The next chapter's already up if you want to find out what happens but I haven't revised it yet :( Hopefully you like it all the same!
Thanks for reading and comments will be appreciated! :)
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