The Raven

My whole head hurt. Not from an ache so much as sinus congestion of some sort. My whole body felt cold and damp, and as I rose, I realized that I was lying down in the low tide of the Black Lake. Night owned the sky, but the full moon gave some room for sight. I couldn’t quite see the castle, but I made out that I was on the shoals of the lake, so I hurried up and out of the water, but I was hit with such a bitter cold that I sat back down and checked my robe for my wand. Nyathera rose from the water, but from deeper in the tide. She made her way over to me and then sat down. “Have you ever fallen asleep in a bath, Tom?”

“No,” I spat and continued to rummage around for my wand, “Why would I?”

Nyathera suddenly straddled me and pushed me back down into the low tide by my shoulders. The water whipped the hair behind my ear and tickled my lobe. “To see if you could die.”

“No,” I whispered to her, “I’ve never wished death upon myself.”

She smirked, “Of course not. You want to make yourself a god.” She ripped my robe and shirtsleeve over my right bicep. I was somehow immobilized by her audacity, giving her the freedom of her hands. She shone a light from her wand over my bicep, “A skull made of snakes? Interesting.”

Adrenaline rushed through my body and I pushed her off of me; her wand went flying upward while she grabbed me by the shoulders again, but this time she pulled me down into the water with her. I watched as the water had no effect on her body while she watched as I was fighting off drowning. I could feel the cold air on the back of my head, but she kept me submerged just enough to die. And then she let me free. I pushed her down hard enough to propel me out of the water. I gasped for air but violently coughed out spurts of water. I fell backward once I could breathe again, but I quickly got up again and raced to her wand.

Nyathera somehow got there first; she popped out of the water with her wand in hand. “You know what’s odd?”

“What?” I shouted in anger and disbelief. What’s happening?

“I’m the only dark skinned member in my family. The rest of my family is pale, like you, yet I’m rather dark. At first I just didn’t get sunburns. Then it turns out I couldn’t die in the fiend fire that Grindelwald sent into my home.”

I took a step closer to her.

She grabbed me by the throat and dug her nails into my flesh. She looked me in the eyes while harshly and bitterly whispering, “What you’re seeking is a curse. There is no reason to have an infinite reign and immortality. People are made to die. Some of us are made to suffer.”

She pushed me back into the water and left.

It took me all night to find my way back to the castle. I immediately took a long, hot shower in the prefect’s bathroom and did my best to dry my clothes magically, but without my wand. The night’s affairs left me tired and drained, so my clothes were still a bit damp; I made it back to my quarters soon after my shower and kicked out the other boys. I found my wand on bed, but all I really wanted was to sleep.

I awoke hours later. I’ve missed all my classes, so after snagging some fruit from the Great Hall, I went roaming around the castle. The door to the Room of Requirement was showing; it was unlocked, so I walked inside. Nyathera and Longbottom were at their beach scene again, but their previous depressed intimacy has been replaced with a romantic sort. I only saw their bare feet and calves twisting and flexing, the rest of their bodies were hidden behind a beach bolder. His toes were buried in the sand while her legs kept phasing between her golden honey state and the regular human body. Their sounds and the motion of their legs gave away the closeness of being over, so I quietly rushed over and poked my head over the bolder. Her body remained the consistency of a physical object with mass, but her skin was swirling with an almost blinding, gooey gold. Longbottom’s pale body had blotches of the gold stuck to him, but once they hit their finish and he rolled off, the gold absorbed into his body, giving him glow about him. It looked like previous wounds were healing, but he noticed me noticing him.

“What in bloody hell?” Longbottom shrieked and tossed sand up into my face. He was screaming at me for being some sort of pervert while they shuffled back into their clothes. Longbottom darted out and punched me square in the nose. I fell back into the sand and laughed.

“Who goes about canoodling without locking their door?”

Longbottom straddled me and went to punch me again, but a gold tinted, olive hand wrapped around his fist. Nyathera gently tugged him back to his feet and quietly led him to the door, so I got up and punched him in the back of the neck. Longbottom dropped to the floor and Nyathera spun around to face me. I went to block a fist that didn’t end up forming; she wrapped her arms around me and forced a kiss on my lips. She tasted of fresh melon and felt like perfect pillow cushions. I wrapped my arms around her to continue this wonderfully odd feeling, but the taste turned bitter and the comfort turned into sharp stings. I fell to the sandy floor and she followed; she pulled her lips directly an inch above mine and sucked out bits of my essence. I watched in amazement and horror while she held my life in her mouth. She dashed over to Longbottom and pressed the lips of her carefully opened mouth to his neck. He started to move around again; he rolled over and panted heavily. Nyathera tugged him onto his feet and helped him walk out, yet again, leaving me on the brink of death on a useless lot of sand.

I woke up the next day back in my bed. I didn’t bother asking how or why or who, but I did make my way to morning potions with Malfoy. In class, I told Malfoy that I caught the two going at it. He snickered and asked if I’d given them detention.

“No,” I yawned, “I figure I’d bring it up with Slughorn.”

“And what’s he going to care?”

“Not him,” I rolled my eyes, “the other students.”

Malfoy immediately caught on and grinned.

I raised my hand so that Slughorn would call on me. “Professor, I know that the stone from a goat’s stomach—”

“A bezoar,” Slughorn smiled at me.

“Yes,” I resisted sighing, “I know that a bezoar can save one from most potions induced poisons, but could it help Nyathera and Algie? They’ve been…intimate all over the castle!”

Most of the students started to laugh or chuckle. All the girls blushed before flashing shamming eyes over to Nyathera. Slughorn shuffled a bit before stating, “That sort of activity is inappropriate, and so is talk of it.”

“Oh for Merlin’s sake,” Nyathera groaned and stood up. Longbottom followed closely behind her, eliciting grins and whistles. But Nyathera stopped at me instead of going to the door. She leaned over and whispered harshly in my ear,

“Have you had time to regenerate your energies?”

“Wha—?”

She turned her right pointer finger into gooey gold and stuck it in my open mouth. Just a few droplets consumed by whole body; my muscled flex and my bones thickened, forcing me to wiggle out of control. The experience of absorbing her essence is completely different when it’s an additive rather than a fix.

She pulled her finger away from me and said, “You’d never handle it, Tom. Stop trying for it. You’re wasting your life.”