Candescent

I didn’t go back to my common room. I took the chance to walk the grounds by myself. Because even though I hadn’t told Dumbledore, I had a feeling that I knew what had caused my scar to hurt. It had something to do with Quirrell.

There was too much suspicious stuff going on for it to not be connected. The Philosopher’s stone, Quirrell’s behaviour, my innate sense that kept telling me weird stuff, voices I was hearing in my head and a hurting cursed scar were not making me feel any better. I knew hearing voices wasn’t a good sign. Looking back in the History books, most of them had been crazy and I had the strangest feeling that was the direction I was heading in.

I made my way back into the castle with the intent of getting something before I had to do that detention with Snape. Unfortunately all I actually got was the return of a headache. It didn’t come from my scar and it wasn’t as painful, but it was still there.

It stayed with me for the next few days, gradually fading. But I couldn’t deny that it worried me. But I pushed it aside and filled my head with all the work I needed to catch up on. I realised that week in class that I'd once again pushed myself ahead.

“I have no idea how you do it,” Hermione commented to me one day as we walked into the Great Hall for dinner. “You study for a grand total of a week and you catch up on a month of missed work!”

I shrugged, but smiled.

She put down her bag by her seat at the Gryffindor table, but almost as though she had been electrocuted she jumped up again and said to me hurriedly, “I'm sorry, but I said I'd meet Harry so we can go and see Ron.”

“I heard about that,” I replied, standing awkwardly by the end of the Gryffindor’s table. “So what actually happened to Weasley?”

“Dog bite,” Hermione shrugged.

“You’re a horrible liar Hermione.”

“I know right,” she sighed. “Oh well.”

Dragon.

There it was, that incessant voice again. Dragon. So…Hagrid had a dragon…and Ron was attacked by it?

“Dragon bite?” I asked lowly.

Hermione looked up at me in astonishment. You know? Her eyes said.

“I saw Hagrid a couple of days ago and I'm fairly good at sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Well,” she said, obviously put off as she looked from the corridor back to me. “We’re sending it away. Ron’s brother works with dragons and we don’t want Hagrid getting into trouble.”

“Safe with me,” I said, placing my hand over my heart.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly before practically running off as I made my way to the Slytherin table and setting myself down next to Blaise.

“Alyssa! Haven’t seen you in a while,” he commented in surprise as I reached for the jug of cordial on the table. “Been doing anything interesting?”

“Detention,” I shrugged, beginning to pile food onto my plate. “That’s about as interesting as it gets. What about you?”

“I'm having a bit of trouble with the Transfiguration essay.”

“Essay…”

“The one about changing mushrooms textures.”

What a boring topic was the only thing in my head at that moment.

“McGonagall’s getting even more inventive isn’t she?” I asked sarcastically.

“Talking about the mushroom essay are we,” a voice said from behind me as a boy with white-blond hair slipped into place on my left – his cronies following suit. “Would’ve thought you’d love it Tyler! Bit of a bludge for you isn’t it?”

“A bit too much of a bludge,” I answered Malfoy, returning to my food. “I mean, if I have nothing to do in terms of school work, what am I supposed to do with my time?”

“Well there’s always the usual,” Blaise answered beginning to list off activities. “Wizard’s chess, refusing to help us do our homework, reading, watching us beg you to help us with our homework, Quidditch, hexing us because we won’t shut up about our homework, game of gobstones, possibly doing our homework…”

He trailed off hopefully but his face fell when he saw my expression.

“Doubtful Zabini,” I replied. “Very doubtful.”

xxxxx

Walking back to my common room that evening I detoured by the Astronomy Tower.
It had nothing to do with the dragon that Hermione had told me she was giving to Charlie Weasley. No, this was just a personal visit.

Generally, no one came to the Astronomy Tower of their own free will. Therefore Astronomy Tower=Solitude=Good place to think.

Voices in my head. Philosopher’s Stone. Professor Quirrell. Professor Snape. Harry Potter. Scar. Ouch. Derek Tyler. Dead.

“Shut up!” I muttered to my brain as I sank into the wall beside a window.

“I wasn’t talking.”

I jumped up as Draco came strolling casually around the corner with his hands in his pockets.

“I was just er…”

“Talking to yourself?” he suggested. “I do it all the time.”

I smiled even though he probably couldn’t see it in the dark.

“What are you doing up here?” he enquired. “I thought I was the only one who liked to stretch curfew to its limits.”

I didn’t actually pay attention to curfew; I didn’t even know what time it was.

“Thinking,” I replied vacantly.

“Yeah, I heard about what happened on the holidays. I'm sorry to hear about it.”

It took me a moment to realise what he meant. When I sunk it I looked up at him in horror. “Who told you?!” I asked furiously.

“Just heard a few rumours, pieced it together and came up with a plausible solution. I'm sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I answered defensively, standing up and taking a final look at the stars. “He wasn’t your father.”

“Yeah, but my father’s-never mind. Point is, we need to get back to the common room before Snape comes breathing down our necks. By the way, I hear he gave you detention. What did you do?”

That certainly wasn't a very subtle topic change, but I let it pass.

“I er, had a temptation for an early morning walk.”

“Very early?” he asked as we walked down the many stairs of the Astronomy Tower.

“Aha,” I nodded. “But hopefully everything will get back to normal now. I'll do my homework, keep my head down and not hex any teachers or break any rules.”

That was the first promise in a very long line that I had a very strong feeling I wouldn’t be able to keep.