34: Mudblood

[Daphne's Pov]

The soft moon glow couldn't penetrate the lake waters, encroaching on the common room in a comfortable darkness, save for the spot where I was sitting.

The single candle lit above gave me just enough light for me to immerse myself in my readings.

It was already deep into the night, but I still didn't stop reading the old tome on my tighs.

At some point, I lost myself in the pages of the book, each word failing to give me hope for what I was looking for.

This title was one of the many I had sneaked from the library at home. All of them mentioned the curse, yet none gave me the answers I wanted.

I began reading the volume a few hours ago after Alaric left us and we returned to the common room. Without me noticing, slowly, fewer and fewer students were present around me.

Tracey knew better than to bother me when it came to this. She knew how important it was for me, so she should have left a while ago.

As time frittered away, I found myself all alone in the dark common room, my only company being the sound of the flipping pages and the occasional giant tentacles that swam near the windows gazing at the lake.

Moments like these, away from the constant pressure of having to prove myself, not having to keep up my fake persona, and being disconnected from the oppression of being the female heir to a most ancient and noble house... moments like these healed my soul.

I adored my friends. Very much so. But I think some alone time does wonders for everyone.

Lost in my reading, I failed to notice a figure hunching over my chair.

"Blood maledictus...?"

Startled, I instantly closed my book. Looking above, with his shoulder-length silver hairs almost touching my face, Alaric was looking over at the book.

For a moment, I lost myself in his pale blue eyes, shining with interest while gazing over the title of the tome.

"Blood magic isn't exactly what I would choose for a late-night reading,"

His comment sapped me out of my thoughts, and I quickly sat up, hiding the book behind me.

I could feel my face burning with embarrassment, my cheekbones acquiring a shade of pink.

"W-What are you doing here?" Afraid of what he might think, I tried to change the subject. Any magic related to blood would be considered dark and heavily frowned upon.

By dark, I don't mean the magic our school looks down to. 'Dark' as in illegal across several ministries, the British included.

"Isn't this my common room as well?" he asked, approaching me.

We stared at each other for a while, his closeness evoking some fuzzy feelings within me. I could feel his breath from that distance.

He reached out his hand, making me close my eyes. For a moment, I thought he was going to touch me... not that I minded. However, instead, he swiftly stole the book from my hands.

My face turned even redder, and my lips quivered.

"Give that back, Alaric!" I whined, trying to take the tome from his hands.

"Now, now, Daphne, no need to be so flustered — I just wanted to take a look," he reassured, passing the book to my hands.

I wanted to storm out of the room, to run away from the shame, but alas, I couldn't.

I didn't understand this feeling I had whenever Alaric was around.

Sometimes, I would feel calm and content around him, like he completed what I didn't.

Other times, I just felt agitation and unease, not knowing how to act around him.

And every so often, some obsessive thoughts came around... but I tried to ignore those, for the most part.

"Are you interested in it?" Alaric asked me, with a strange glint in his eyes.

"N-No, blood magic is illegal," I mumbled, hiding the book again. "I must've brought the wrong book from the library,"

"Yeah, because the Hogwarts library is totally known for stocking shelves with illegal and forbidden texts," he chuckled.

Struggling to articulate a reply, I locked gazes with him. For a while, the only sound in the room originated from the occasional flicker of the candle flames, which slowly dimmed.

*Sigh*

Sighing, Alaric turned around to leave, walking to his dorm. Before disappearing through the long and dark corridor, he looked at me with a kind smile.

"I know some stuff about... blood magic. If you need, I'll be glad to help," He said, before walking away, leaving me alone once again in the darkness of the common room.

__________

[Alaric's Pov]

After my late encounter with Daphne, the days continued to go by.

She tried to pretend that it didn't happen, but she wasn't exactly good at it. From being constantly flustered or embarrassed whenever I was around, to always trying to change the subject whenever I pried too much.

Apart from her episodes, I had a lot on my hands.

Every night, I would go to the restricted section to try my luck with the pendant. However, my luck was down in the gutters, as the necklace didn't show any signs of activity.

The book we found in the vault remained a mystery. There were no references to the language, neither in the Hogwarts library nor in Grandfather's books.

As for that ice spell, well... it didn't take a genius to connect it to the magic I started to feel after I found the Ice Vault.

With that, I concluded that the necklace served as a catalyst for the magic. And maybe, if the restricted section had another vault within it, it could be also used as a compass.

And if there were other vaults, then they were the key to deciphering this magic.

There were also the snake-related visions. Since I started learning parseltongue using the same method as the African and Indian healers, some mildly disturbing events started to happen.

I would wake up with cold sweats, a weird hissing voice sounding in my ears. The fact that I wasn't yet fluent in parseltongue helped me distinguish some words that were mixed with the random hissings that I would hear.

Words like 'go' or 'wake up' would be the norm, but sometimes... a deeper, more animalistic voice would talk, and from what it said, one thing was certain. It wanted to kill.

I really wanted to blame my seer blood for these voices, but they started to sound too real to be just side effects from visions.

It was troubling, but I had no clue where to start investigating these voices.

Luckily for me, I had something I could use to distract myself from the obnoxious amount of problems I had — The Mischief Brigade.

As Fred stated, it was a group they created in order to test unfinished and finished products for their future shop. But alas, Lockhart came along.

Apparently, they started observing the man after the balding incident and quickly realized his true colors.

I wasn't exactly subtle with the stuff I did to Lockhart — Not like I needed to be, the man still thought I was one of his fanatics — so Fred and George discovered I was the one behind everything.

After I joined, they changed the objective of the group to cause absolute chaos.

Lockhart was in for a ride, one he definitely wasn't going to like

__________

[3rd Pov]

"One more, Theo, give it everything you've got!"

Within Alaric's dorm, the trio diligently completed their daily exercise regimen.

Theodore exerted every ounce of strength, his arms quivering with effort as he struggled to push his body upward. Beads of sweat clung to his soaked white shirt, while his forehead glistened.

Blaise stood by his side, encouraging him, while Alaric, having already completed his routine, observed his own body in the mirror, checking the progress since the last time.

Some muscles were starting to show in certain places, the proof of his continuous hard work on the condition of his body.

He knew, compared to adults, it wasn't anything special, but if he continued on this path, in a few years, he would have a big advantage in comparison to most wizards.

*KNOCK*KNOCK*

It was six in the morning, so the three were startled when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," said Blaise. The door, being unlocked, was slowly opened. Behind the door, an older girl, with almond hair and eyes stared at the three, with her hands on her hips.

"What do you want Carrow?" spat Theodore, looking at their Quidditch teammate.

"You three have fifteen minutes to be in the Quidditch stadium," she said, smirking at Theo. "We have some new babies to test,"

And with that, she walked away and closed the door with a bang.

"Fucking cow," snorted Blaise, grabbing his quidditch robes. "What babies do you think she's talking about?"

The two boys looked at Alaric, who was already draped in his robes.

"Probably some new rubbish Malfoy's dad bought," Alaric said, grabbing his new custom broom he made.

Fifteen minutes later, the three arrived at the stadium. However, instead of seeing their team practice, they saw them all gathered in the middle of the pitch, in a confrontation with the Gryffindor team.

"But I booked the field!" said Wood, the lions' quidditch captain, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"

"Ah," said Flint, grinning. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train with their new brooms'. "

"You've got new brooms?" asked Wood, distracted from the earlier argument.

Apart from the three that just arrived all of them held out their broomsticks. Highly polished, brand-new handles and sets of fine gold lettering spelling the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One, gleamed under the Gryffindors' noses in the early morning sun.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from the end of his own. "Courtesy of Draco's father,"

None of the Gryffindor team could think of anything to say for a moment. Malfoy was smirking so broadly that his cold eyes were reduced to slits.

"Rubbish, eh?" joked Blaise. He crossed his arms and glanced at Alaric, who had an uninterested expression on his face.

"I can do you two one better," he offered.

While they were talking, Ron, Hermione, and Hope were crossing the field to see what was going on. Behind me followed Lysandra, slightly disconnected, reading a book.

"What's going on?" Hope asked her brother, who had a frown on his face while looking at Draco.

"My father's the new team sponsor, Potter," Malfoy exclaimed, smugly. "We need the field to test these beauties,"

Ron's mouth gapped open, looking with jealousy at the pristine new brooms.

"Good, aren't they?" Malfoy added, before glancing at the Gryffindor team. "But I guess not everyone can buy them. Did you get yours from a museum?"

Seeing Malfoy looking at their brooms, Fred and George narrowed their eyes.

'Oh, he's screwed.' Alaric thought, watching as Malfoy dug his grave by trying to mess with the Weasley twins.

"Unlike some, the Gryffindor team earned their positions purely based on their talent, not by waving around their parents' gold," spat Hermione back.

"You can't expect people like him to comprehend the concept of hard work and merit," Hope added, shrugging her shoulders.

The smug look on Malfoy's expression flickered, replaced by a frown.

"No one asked your opinion, Potter," he said to Hope before turning to Hermione. "And filthy mudbloods such as yourself shouldn't be allowed to talk,"

There was an instant uproar to his words. Harry tried to launch himself at Malfoy, but Flint stopped him. Ron tried to jinx the Slytherin boy, but his broken wand made the spell hit him instead.

Seeing Malfoy take his wand out, Alaric was about to disarm him, but someone was faster.

However, instead of Draco's wand flying out of his hand, it flew up and pressed against the boy's neck.

Alaric smirked. From behind the Gryffindor players, Lysandra appeared, her wand pointing to the blonde boy.

"Call her that again. I dare you," Lysandra threatened, a blood-curling expression on her face.

**********

A/N: Stuff's about to go down.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter!

And don't forget to stone me!