She whispered

by Lucas Chesterton

  There is only one.

  Bas sits alone, the only student not reading the paper, and she can see where the heavy scent of sage is coming from when she sees him hanging the lightly burning herbs above the table. While most students in their class prefer the burning of mallowsweet, she finds sage more effective in relaxing what Trelawney calls their ‘inner eye.’

  She sits down next to him and he looks up at her, slightly surprised, but doesn’t tell her to leave. Instead, he sits down across from her, pulling out a few rolls of parchment from his satchel and places them next to the text they’ve been assigned to read for an upcoming seance.

  ‘Any luck conjuring spirits?’ she asks and a grin appears on his lips.

  ‘Any luck getting out of another bought of detention?’ he responds and she raises an eyebrow, curiously.

  ‘Good news travel that fast or did you see that in your afternoon tea leaves?’ she asks him and he lets out a chuckle.

  ‘The former, I’m afraid,’ he tells her. ‘The tea leaves spoke of an opportunity for upcoming festivities that would arise but I haven’t quite figured that one out yet.’

  ‘I’m starting to feel as though detention is a way of life for me now,’ she says boredly, lighting her own small batch of sage and hanging it next to Bas’. ‘Like in Third Year when I had that rebellious streak that got me sent to McGonagall on a weekly basis.’

  ‘So when exactly do you think that rebellious streak is going to end?’ he teases and despite the anger still pulsing through Thea’s veins, she can’t help but smile at his cheek. ‘So, throwing hexes in the Potions store room? How harsh was McGonagall on that? Please tell me she saw fit to kick you off the Quidditch team?’

  ‘Nothing so drastic, Sebastian,’ she says and his exaggerated disappointment leaves him with his lip puckered slightly. ‘It was determined that while I was, in fact, caught shaking my wand at your mate, James, I was also only defending myself from a debatably deserved slap to the face by Valerie Thomas,’ she says, pointing to the cut on her lip. ‘So I’ll be in the library arranging books for Madame Huynh.’

  ‘That doesn’t seem so���’

  ‘Without magic,’ she specifies and he cringes. ‘So where is Trelawney?’

  Bas shrugs, sliding the Daily Prophet over in front of her where the front page has a picture of a beautiful woman with dark features and knowing eyes. She suddenly sees why the room is so sullen, her eyes traveling over the words. The headline, ‘Prominent Seer, Death Linked to Dark Magic Followers’ sends a wave of uneasiness over Thea as she scans the article.

  No names are mentioned, but the woman, Parvati Patil, is a known participant in the Battle of Hogwarts and the war against Lord Voldemort. She recognizes the name, from the text sitting in front of Bas, and she knows this woman was not only a student with her father at Hogwarts, but also the promising protege of Professor Trelawney.

  ‘Why do they think it was linked to dark magic?’ she asks and Bas opens the newspaper to the the inside page where there is a picture of a note.

  Traitor is the sole word on the image, but in place of the ‘o’ is a symbol she knows quite well.

  ‘The Dark Mark?’ she whispers. Bas nods. ‘Voldemort’s dead. Why would anyone use his mark to further their agenda?’

  ‘Why not?’ he says. ‘The Dark Mark was a symbol that struck fear into everyone during Voldemort’s reign of terror. Whoever is using it now, wants to remind people of that fear.’

  She reads the article in full as she processes Bas’ words. He sits across from her, taking notes from the text. There are no suspects to the murder, and no details of what actually happened to Parvati Patil. Only that there was evidence of dark magic used at the scene and that the note left was, as Bas said, likely intended to stir discomfort through the wizarding communities.

  Thea thinks of her dad, of the life he’s put behind him since the war and she wonders if it stirs the same fear in him as well. He doesn’t talk about it much, but she knows it was a time he was ashamed of. She can see it in his eyes every time someone looks at him with skepticism or fear.

  She closes her eyes as she closes the paper and sets it aside. Her breaths are deep and steady and the sage causes her to relax into each breath as though she is sinking into a dreamlike state. But she’s awake, fully aware of the whispers she tries to drown out and the light clanking of Bas’ lighter as he flicks at it absentmindedly.

  And then it stops.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asks and she opens her eyes. He’s looking at her strangely.

  She looks down at her hands, fidgeting with the edges of her oversized robes and slides her right hand across the table, slowly. He stares at it as it inches closer. She turns it, palm side up and he sighs.

  ‘Thea,’ he says warily, glancing back at the parchment.

  ‘You’ve seen something,’ she whispers. ‘I saw it the day you took my palm on the bridge. Tell me.’

  ‘I am a novice, at best.’

  ‘You’re lying,’ she says. ‘Trelawney herself says your potential is greater than most students she’s taught in a lifetime.’

  ‘I still don’t think you should put stock in these things. It’s not like I look at you hand and I see your future. It’s all feeling, guesswork.’

  ‘Ok, now you sound like Rosie,’ she says, frowning. ‘I know you believe in this stuff. Hell, I believe in this stuff. And you’re lucky enough that you have the intuition, I lack.’

  ‘You know as well as I do that it’s not exact.’

  ‘I don’t care,’ she tells him. ‘An approximation will do.’

  ‘I don’t know what I saw,’ he tells her. ‘I couldn’t be sure���’

  ‘Then look again.’

  He stares at her palm and then back at her.

  ‘Why do you want to know?’

  ‘You already know the answer to that too, I think,’ she says and he sighs again, this time heavy as he reaches slowly for her hand.

  He places her hand hand in his left and brushes his right fingers over the flesh of her wrist, down several lines as they bridge and intertwine. There is uncertainty in his eyes, but there is also something else, the something she wants defined. She’s seen the same look in his brown eyes when he took her reading before. This time, the same as last, he pauses over the life line. He glances at her left hand, flips it as he analyzes the same line in the left and shakes his head.

  ‘It’s conflicting,’ he says.

  ‘What is?’

  ‘These, here, look at the edges of the base of the line,’ he says, pointing to the freys of her life line on the right hand. ‘And the rise in the Mount of Venus.’ She sees the mount, pronounced and wide.

  ‘So you’re saying I’m great in bed,’ she half-heartedly teases but he doesn’t smile.

  ‘The mount is well-defined, sure, but I see something else,’ he tells her, pointing lower towards the thumb. ‘You’re private, but that’s obvious. But this is something else entirely, something you won’t share with anyone. Something that is driving a wedge between you and others…or will…I don’t know, it’s all blurry.’

  ‘So in summary?’ she asks him and he’s shaking his head.

  ‘Whatever you’re hiding,’ he tells her, placing her palm back on the table gently as he glances back down at it. ‘It will only make things worse the longer you keep it inside. And if it’s what I think it is…then you should stop pretending it’s nothing.’

  She’s startled by Bas’ realness in that moment. They’ve rarely ever had a moment pass between them without sarcasm or laughter. But there is real concern in his eyes, mixed with the confusion he feels and it’s that which frightens her. Bas is not just guessing. He feels it, he sees it. And perhaps it’s unclear to him, but to her his words hit hard.

  She clears her throat, pulling her hand back onto her lap and she forces a smile that they both know is false.

  ‘Am I right?’ he asks her and her response is a small rise in the corners of her lips. ‘Why, t
hen?’ he asks and her brow wrinkles slightly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Why bother with all of this? It’s obvious it only makes it harder for you.’

  ‘No, Sebastian…it makes it easier. In the long run.’

  She gathers her bag, letting her braid fall across her face as she reaches down to grab it in hopes that it hides the fear in her own eyes. She pulls the sage from where it hangs above them and places it on the plate on the table where it will simmer out eventually, like the anxiety rising in her chest.

  As she starts to leave, she spots the tea cup on the table near Bas’ quill. She looks up at him, his eyes still watching her curiously and she points to the cup.

  ‘What was it you said again about festivities?’

  It’s Thursday night and the library is crowded, perhaps more than usual. His study group is larger than last week and he knows the number of O.W.L students continues to rise with the upcoming Astronomy exam for fourth and fifth years. He’s grading practice exams they’ve done earlier in the week whilst they work in pairs and he’s trying desperately to pay attention but is distracted by red hair and a pair of eyes that keep meeting his.

  Rose is not part of his study group but she too has taken to the library on a Thursday night to work on her potions project with Thea. She’s standing in a nearby aisle while Thea flips through pages of a large book called Potions and Lunar Motions which she nearly disappears behind.

  Rose, too, seems distracted as she keeps looking over though Thea pays her no mind as she scribbles in her notebook. Scorpius looks back down at the paper in front of him and he marks off a few points for a partially correct answer about the Andromeda Galaxy.

  ‘Scorpius,’ one of the fourth years speaks up, and he looks up from the paper to see them all staring at him.

  ‘Yes, Aida?’ he asks.

  ‘We were wondering, or rather we heard a rumor,’ she starts and one of them nudges her to continue. ‘Is it true that the Slytherin’s hold a secret party in the dungeons every year?’

  Scorpius furrows his brow as he sets his quill down on the desktop.

  ‘Where did you hear that?’ he asks.

  ‘I heard it from a girl in Gryffindor who swore she overheard two Slytherin seventh years boasting about it in the greenhouses yesterday,’ Aida says and Scorpius scoffs.

  ‘I am not sure how valuable that information would be,’ he mutters. ‘And anyways, if the Slytherins were throwing a party every year, the faculty would know. There are enchantments in place to keep students from that kind of rule breaking.’

  The students look disappointed as they glance back down at their parchment and Scorpius leaves them to their work as he grabs a list from his book and walks over to Rose. He can see Thea’s expression change even though she doesn’t look up from her book but he ignores her annoyed frown as he watches Rose pretend she hasn’t noticed him at all.

  ‘Lunar studies?’ he asks, glancing down at the title and she smirks. ‘I happen to know a great deal about Astronomy. Top marks, in fact.’

  ‘For now,’ she teases, still glancing down at the page though she hasn’t read a word since he arrived.

  ‘I’ve read this book a few times,’ he tells her and she’s trying desperately to hold back a grin. ‘If you were looking for something in particular���’

  ‘Milton’s Method,’ Thea pipes up from where she sits atop the desk and for the first time Scorpius notices how tired she looks. He furrows his brow, watching her hazel eyes glance up from her notes. ‘We’re looking for how it is affected under a New Moon.’

  Scorpius remembers learning Milton’s Method last year, appropriate for adjusting weather conditions in enclosed spaces in order to mimic seasonal patterns. He can only assume they must be attempting it for their potions project but he’s never actually seen it performed. It’s a spell they barely glossed over in 6th Year Charms and he’s never found a reason to attempt it until now.

  ‘You won’t find it in there,’ he tells them and Thea gives Rose a look that signifies that perhaps she already knew this. Rose closes the book in frustration.

  ‘I’ve been reading this for hours,’ she says and Scorpius grins, finding her annoyed grumbling adorable.

  ‘There is a book that might help,’ Scorpius adds and they both look up at him, their attention peaked. ‘Come one, I’ll show you,’ he says and Thea doesn’t budge.

  ‘I’ll wait here,’ says Thea, boredly.

  Scorpius and Rose glance at each other and Rose shrugs when he gives her a questioning look. He tells her he’ll meet her over in the Lunar Studies section and she nods, leaving him with Thea who bites anxiously on the edge of her thumbnail.

  ‘Have you been getting any sleep?’ he asks and she jumps slightly as if she’s already forgotten he was there.

  ‘Yes,’ she says, glancing around. ‘I haven’t forgotten any potions so you don’t have to worry about it.’

  He stands next to her, leaning against the study table that she’s perched on. He can see her scribbled notes are rushed and scratchy, unlike her usual neatly looped cursive and he frowns.

  ‘You look terrible,’ he says, a misstep he immediately regrets.

  ‘Thanks,’ she mutters.

  ‘I just mean,’ he attempts but he has never really been the best at saying things like this and Thea always manages to brush him off. ‘I’m worried about you. When was the last time you talked to Albus?’

  ‘Albus is busy,’ she says, another abrupt answer and he wonders how she simultaneous manages to continue writing at the same time.

  ‘Well,’ he says hesitantly. ‘You know you can talk to me…right?’

  Her quill stops scratching and there is a pause before she looks up. For a moment, Scorpius thinks she might say something, allude to anything akin to whatever has been weighing down on her these last few weeks but she lets out a barely audible sigh before shaking her head.

  ‘Rose is waiting,’ she says finally and maybe he expected it but he is still disappointed by the callous response as she returns to her notebook as if he’d never interrupted her at all.

  Lunar Studies is only a few aisles away, but it’s secluded and obscure enough that no one, aside from Rose, is anywhere to be seen. She notices his concerned expression and returns it with one of her own but he tries to shake it off, chalking up Thea’s attitude to her lack of sleep and row with Albus.

  ‘Is she alright?’ Rose asks and the sincerity in her voice surprises him. No one ever asks him about his sister except perhaps their father or McGonagall. But Rose looks as worried as he feels.

  ‘She’s lonely, I think,’ he speculates. ‘She and Albus still haven’t made up and I don’t know that there is anyone else she gets along with. Except you, of course.’

  ‘We’re not exactly close,’ she says and he nods.

  ‘It’s not easy to get close to my sister,’ he tells her, stepping closer and pulling her hand into his. ‘Don’t take it personally.’

  ‘I don’t,’ she says. ‘I already have one Malfoy under my spell. I’m not sure it is possible to have you both.’ He laughs, kissing her cheek. ‘You don’t think she’s mad, do you? About us?’

  ‘She and I don’t get caught up with that sort of thing,’ he tells her. ‘And anyways, Theodora rarely gets mad about anything.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Rose disagrees. ‘I’ve seen her lose her mind over James.’

  Scorpius can only laugh.

  ‘Yes, perhaps you’re right about that,’ he says. ‘But James Potter may be the exception. The most severe reaction she can usually muster is utter indifference. She’s content in her own world.’

  ‘What about you?’ she asks him, inching closer and Scorpius watches her fingers toy with the edge of his tie. ‘What gets under Scorpius Malfoy’s skin?’

  ‘Currently,’ he says and he lets his hips meet hers as they stand so close that he can smell her sweet perfume. ‘I think the only thing that can get under my skin is you.’

&n
bsp; ‘I hope that’s a compliment,’ she says and he nods, placing his lips against hers despite their usual abhorrence for public displays of affection. But it’s the third time he’s been unable to control himself and he blames her for being so god damn enticing.

  He likes the way she feels against him, the way her hands toy with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. He loves the taste of her lips and they way the corners of them curve when he wraps his hands around her waist.

  Rose Granger-Weasley is magic.

  THEA

  A storm is brewing. She can see the large black cloud looming in the distance but she does her best to ignore the impending downpour as she glances back down at her notebook. She finds the chaos of the Gryffindor quidditch practice soothing as she concentrates on her homework for Ancient Runes.

  Her only company is the redheaded Lucy Weasley at her side. Lucy doesn’t appreciate the shouts of the quidditch team quite as much, but she tolerates it enough for Thea’s sake as they both scribble notes onto their parchment. Lucy’s nose is scrunched slightly as her quill pauses and Thea allows her a full five minutes of confused pondering before chiming in.

  ‘Tubers,’ says Thea and Lucy’s head snaps up. ‘That’s the word you’re looking for isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Lucy says with a wide grin. ‘It’s the piece inside the pod of the Snargaluff? The green pieces?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Thea replies, back to her own homework. ‘If you need more research I have a copy of Flesh-Eating Trees of the World in my dorm. I can lend it to you.’

  ‘Would you?’ Lucy asks, her voice high. Thea suppresses a smile, and pretends not to be proud of the young girl’s interest in herbology and simply nods.

  A shout causes Thea to glance up and she can see James Potter hollering indistinguishable things to his players as they hover nearby. While she can’t quite make out the words, she knows it has something to do with Davy’s nearly hitting him with a bludger. He takes the club from his beater’s hands and throws it in the opposite direction. Their match with Ravenclaw is only one week away and as usual, Potter is consumed with his desire to win.