The three of them were sitting at the foot of Shayla’s bed with the book open. It was from the restricted section, and Myra could not work out how Minerva had managed to get the book, after all they were only fourth years.
“So, you think we’ve got the theory correct?” asked Shayla, looking at Minerva.
“Why are we even doing this? It’s so dangerous if we get it wrong.” Squeaked Myra.
“Oh shush!” said Shayla, bored with Myra’s panicked attitude.
“I think it’s right. But I don’t know it’s right.”
“Well, there is only one way to find out.” Smiled Shayla.
“We’ve got to manifest out inner animal.” Sighed Minerva.
“I’ll go first to get it over with.” Whispered Myra.
She closed her eyes, thinking of any elegant animal. She opened her eyes, Shayla and Minerva jumped off the bed. Shayla was pointing wildly at her.
Myra thought hard, and suddenly she was human again.
“I’m a sheep! My inner animal is a sheep!” laughed Myra.
Minerva laughed so hardly suddenly she was a tabby cat.
“This is so fun!” giggled Shayla.
Minerva’s cat looked like she was wearing the same glasses as Minerva did. She looked a bit skinny and wasn’t the most attractive cat, but it was more inconspicuous than a sheep. Minerva was suddenly her old self.
“Just you to go Shayla.”
Minerva and Myra watched their friend. They were expecting something impressive.
“You’re a swan.”
Druella looked up at the star studded night; each one looked like a diamond. Mad, passionate love had driven her to this point. She was terrified; her heart beat a million miles an hour.
“I could have any guy in the school. But the one I want won’t have me. How is that fair?”
I was standing on the window ledge looking at the massive drop that she was about to fall. Out of the tower and down onto the hard ground of a courtyard below. Druella started to cry, Tom would not be impressed with her weakness, and he did not like weak people. Maybe that was why he didn’t love her, because she was weak. Druella could see down onto the balcony below her and slightly to the right. People were running onto it, there was a feeling of fear. Druella blinked, and one of them had gone.
Shayla looked out at the stars. Tom had tried to keep her in the air for as long as possible, tiring her and surrounding her. Shayla felt like he was suffocating her. He had swooped around her and she had heard his voice resounding in her head.
“You’re mine! You want me! You love me! You adore me!”
The match had ended after five hours, Gryffindor had lost, Tom plucking the snitch out of the path her outstretched fingers in one swoop. The Slytherin’s had whooped and cheered and Shayla felt crushed. Tom’s voice had seeped into her head again.
“You can’t beat me. You will never win. Give up trying. Give yourself to me.”
Shayla had not wanted to face the disappointed crowds in the Gryffindor common room, so she had decided to come and look at the stars, and contemplate her life. She would never be free with Tom always watching her and controlling her. Shayla knew that she could never defeat Tom Riddle, maybe the easiest way out was to hurl herself off the balcony she was standing on. Shayla did not fear death. In fact she was afraid of quite the opposite. The fear that blazed though her veins everyday was the fear of what life had in store for her. Abraxas Malfoy? Why, Shayla could never love him.
She hadn’t noticed she was crying. The tears were warm as the swelled and then slid down her pale cheeks. There was nothing she could do to free herself, except maybe death. Shayla wiped her tears away violently; she knew he was standing right behind her.
“Abraxas Malfoy. Why a lady such as your good self surely doesn’t want Abraxas Malfoy. I warn you he is conceited, arrogant, manipulative and controlling.” He said in his honey smooth voice.
“Like you Tom? They are four words that I believe would aptly describe you.”
She cut a dignified stance in the warm air. She was looking at him straight in the eyes. There was no use denying that he was handsome. She could see why girls fell at his feet in adoration, but there was no warmth behind those steely eyes. His nostrils flared at her insults but his voice remained calm.
“You do not like me then Miss Rosier?” he said stepping forward.
“Not in the slightest, Tom.”
He chuckled faintly, this unnerved Shayla. His voice was high and cold and she felt as if icy water was dripping down the back of her neck. All the hairs on her arms were standing on end.
“I am my own person,” she thought frantically, “and I am not a puppet of Tom Riddle.”
“Miss Rosier, do you seriously believe you are your own person and you are not my puppet?”
Shayla froze, could he read her mind too?
“Dumbledore told you that did he?” Tom smirked. He stood there smiling at her misfortune and it enraged her.
“I am not yours Tom. Oh, and does my sister still believe you’re a pureblood.”
Tom’s smile slid off his face.
“I am a pureblood, and I am no longer Tom Riddle.” He said calmly, but his voice was cold and brittle.
“Well what am I to call you?”
Tom withdrew his wand from his cloak and started to write burning red letters in to night air. He wrote out his name, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and then gave his wand a tiny flick. The letters rearranged themselves in front of Shayla’s eyes.
“I am Lord Voldemort, Shayla.” Whispered Tom, abandoning the swirling letters to advance closer towards her. She stepped back nervously, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Shayla, Lord Voldemort always gets what he wants.”
“And what does he want?” she asked, trying to keep him talking until she thought of a plan. She had been stupid enough to leave her wand upstairs in her dorm, so she would easily be prey to the starving belly of Tom’s lust. She was clinging to the railings of the balcony now; beads of sweat were rolling down her forehead as she panicked. Tom took one long, pale finger and traced the line of her jaw up to her ear. Then he ran his hand through her hair. Shayla squirmed inwardly; she wanted nothing more than to push him away.
“Lord Voldemort wants you.” He breathed deeply as he took in the scent of her perfume. Shayla shuddered as he ran his lips down her neck. Shayla shivered, she desired him, but at the same she was repulsed by him.
“But I don’t want you!”
Shayla pushed him away; she knew her way of escape. He looked livid, his eyes almost burning scarlet.
“Well if I can’t have you, nobody will!” He raised his wand menacingly into her face and she blinked as she rose into the sky, the swan climbing higher and higher away from him.
The green light shot past Shayla as she soared above him. Tom smiled; he wasn’t going to kill her, there was something much worse that he could do. The spell was cast and a jet of blue light propelled itself towards Shayla and it hit her without making a sound. Shayla thought it was a pathetic curse as it did nothing to her.
Soon he was out of her sight and Shayla laughed gleefully in her head, he had failed to hurt her. She flew away from the school and towards the Forbidden Forest. The darkness of the trees came closer and closer, until the branches and thickets were pulling her inwards. She was torn from the sky and landed on the hard ground with a thump. She arranged herself and then prepared to return to her human form.
She blinked again.
She was still a swan.
She was still a swan.
Tom smiled as he did the complex memory curse, she would be forgotton.
Druella was miserable. Yes, she’d stopped herself from hurling herself off the balcony but she was still miserable. Tom didn’t love her. He was hopelessly and madly in love with someone else. He was in love with...
Minerva and Myra sat in their dormitory playing Monopoly. Minerva loved the Muggle game and beat Myra without much effort. Nobody else in their dorm played with them. Julia just sat on her bed reading her charms book and waving her wand aimlessly. Harriet watched them in awe, getting overly excited when either of them ended up in jail.
There had never been anyone else in their dorm...
Tom smiled joyfully as he watched the swan flying frantically around Gryffindor Tower. She would never be free. It was her own fault for not giving herself to him willingly.
Minerva’s headaches were getting worse and worse. Albus had told her to come to the Headmaster’s office and that he knew how to get rid of the migraines that kept plaguing her existence. She had strolled along the corridor towards the giant eagle that hid Dumbledore’s office.
“Lollipops.” She whispered as the eagle moved. She had been impressed today. Harry Potter had accidently turned his beetle into a bird. Okay, he was a third year and should have been turning the beetle into a small ball, but it showed potential. Within moments she found herself sitting opposite Dumbledore and for some reason felt quite small with his looking at her like that. Suddenly she noticed the swan sitting on the perch where Dumbledore’s great Phoenix usually sat. Minerva looked at the swan that had followed her relentlessly since her sixth year at Hogwarts. It was fifty years later and the swan hadn’t died, and hadn’t given up.
“Your headaches,” began Dumbledore as he handed her a glass of Lemonade, “you’ve noticed they appear when you discuss certain things.”
“Yes,” started Minerva, “it’s when I talk about Animagi, my time at Hogwarts, hear waltz music and...Myra.” Minerva started to sob at the mention of her best friend’s name. She had been part of the First Order of the Phoenix and had been murdered by You-Know-Who himself. Myra had been one of the first to go, and since that day Minerva had felt increasingly isolated. She did not have one friend left from Hogwarts.
“Well, what links those three?”
Minerva bit her lip nervously. She had never disclosed her indiscretions at Hogwarts to Dumbledore before, but she knew it may help her.
“In fourth year, Myra and I worked out how to become Animagi. We were up in the dorm and Myra’s form was a sheep, and I was a tabby cat. And...”
Minerva stopped. And...what?
“Are you remembering something Minerva?” smiled Dumbledore, sipping his own Lemonade. Minerva racked her brain, now she thought about it, she was sure she was missing something.
“Well, you and Myra turned into unregistered Animagi. Were there any other animals there that day?” asked Dumbledore, putting down his glass.
“What? Wait!” said Minerva trying to think. Dumbledore was smiling at her jovially as he got up from his seat and started to stroke the swan.
“The swan...” concluded Minerva, “I don’t know why but...”
“Okay, waltz music. Why waltz music?” asked Dumbledore, sitting down again, smiling at Minerva.
“I honestly don’t know. But I think it’s awful.” Sniped Minerva as she crossed her arms.
“When was the last time you listened to waltz music without getting a headache?” questioned Dumbledore as the swan flew from its perch and landed gracefully on his desk. Minerva watched the bird as she thought.
“The ball...at Hogwarts...the one at Christmas. I was with Myra, it was the one where...” Minerva stopped abruptly. She didn’t want to tell Dumbledore the whole rotten truth.
“The one where you tried to impress Tom Riddle.” Finished Dumbledore. Minerva found herself blushing like a school girl.
“Yes, okay, but he had his attentions on...” Minerva stopped again, looking at the swan. The swan. The Hogwarts Express.
“I had another friend at Hogwarts, didn’t I Dumbledore?” said Minerva bluntly.
“Yes, I’ve just remembered her myself. I managed to break through the memory curse.”
Minerva gasped, shocked. She looked directly at the swan.
“Do you have a brother and sister?” Minerva looked at the swan wide eyed as it nodded. Minerva suddenly remembered and the guilt washed over her.
“Druella and Edgard Rosier.” The swan nodded really violently this time. Minerva suddenly found herself sobbing. Dumbledore came round and patted her gently on the shoulder.
“We can turn her back.” He whispered as he pointed his wand at the bird. The bird fluttered down onto the floor and Dumbledore’s counter curse hit her as the swan began to transform.
When she looked up, she was looking into the face of her forgotten friend.
Thank you to everyone who has read this or will read this in the future. For a first attempt, I didn't think it was that bad. To tempt anyone to review my story I want you to decide what I post next (Other than Myrtle's Story). Here are your options:
1) A Founders fic, either about Helena Ravenclaw or Helga Hufflepuff. I can't decide.
2) A Scorpius and Rose next Gen fic. It will be different I promise!!!
3) A collection of short stories set around Hogwarts during the 1000 years its been open.