Lumos: Year Two

After hearing that exams weren't cancelled, Lanee and Helena decided to head to library after class and get some homework done. Lanee knew she had an essay in History of Magic due in a few days, but instead her hands led her to a huge poitions book, which she buried herself in.

“I can’t believe I’m going to have to spend the rest of the week studying… I won’t be able to relax at all until summer, and I barely even relax then.” Helena said bleakly as Lanee tore a page from the book and placed it in her sock. She was surprised no one had noticed that she had been taking pages from the library books for the past years. Yet, who else read all these old potions books but her?

“I know. I don’t really get how anyone expects us to learn when we’re too worried about our safety.” Lanee responded, flipping through the pages. Helena began to talk about how her father deemed his daughter safe, seeing as she was a Slytherin.

“Trust me when I say that dads aren’t all that they’re made to be. Especially when you’re a mistake in their life and they feed off your misery.” The Slytherin added. Just then, it occured to Lanee how much she trusted this girl. The mention of fathers made Lanee think, Why can't I share my seceret with Helena? She swallowed hard, this wasn't going to be easy. She had learned from a young age to keep the seceret she was about to tell this girl.

“I’m not clueless about dads, you know—“ She began, but she was suddenly interupted. McGonagall's voice echoed through the near empty library, instructing all the students to return to their dormitories. Her heart stopped for a moment as her stomach fell. Another student must have been attacked, she knew it, only this time it must be worse. Worse than petrified; dead. Why else would everyone be sent to their rooms?

Her mind raced. She thought of Dean, a possible Muggleborn. Was he okay? She had to get to the common room as fast as she could. Helena suggested another attack could have happened, but Lanee was already sure of that in her mind. She quickly said her goodbyes to her friend, collected her bag, and sprinted out of the library. She didn't know why, but a voice in her head kept telling her that Dean was hurt.

The door opened without a password, the common room full of confused Gryffindors. Dean was easy to spot, his dark skin stood out among the others. Lanee sighed in relief and attack him with a hug before he even realized Lanee had come into the room.

"Geez, 'Nee." Dean laughed as she released him. "What gives?"

"I thought you had been attacked." She caught her breath from sprinting to the library.

"Guys." Seamus said as he approached. "I think I know who was attacked. There aren't any Weasley's in here."

"Impossible." Lanee responded, her hair dark brown from fear, slowling returned to it's usual blood red. "They're all purebloods."

"Then tell me where they are." Seamus responded. She bit her lip, he was right. Not a Weasley in sight.

Dean cleared his throat and lowered his voice. "Unless, one of them was the heir. Ron is close to Potter, and everyone thought the heir was Potter, but what if it was Ron all along? And he's gone to the Chamber of Secerets, taking all his siblings with him!"

"That's ridiculous, Dean." Lanee laughed, a little amused at his assumption. "Ron Weasley can't even levitate a feather, you expect me to beleive he's behind all these attacks?"

They waited in silence. Bored, Lanee begant to rummage through her bag. She hadn't cleaned it our since the end of last year. Digging to the bottom, she came across a small golden card. She recognized it as the card she received on Valentine's Day, the one she never opened. She had swiped the card from the dwarf and stormed away, angry at Lockhart for setting up a ridiculous system. Keeping the card hidden in her bag, she finally read it.

I thought love was just a mirage of the mind,
it's an illusion, it's fake, impossible to find.
But the day I met you, I began to see,
that love is real, and exists in me.

She searched the card for a name, but not a single one was found. A red blush had settled on her cheeks and her heart skipped a beat. It must have been a joke. For one, every boy she knew was twelve or thirteen, no boy that young knew what love was. And beyond that, who could like her? A poor little freak who liked to tear pages out of library books and steal pixies from class. Something told her just to toss the card, but the poem was so sweet. What if it was real? No, it's a prank. Lanee scolded herself, yet she tucked the card into her History of Magic textbook, where it would be forever, but never read again.

Dean pulled out his sketchpad suddenly. "Don't move, Lanee." He said as his pencil glided over the paper. She had grown used to this, Dean suddenly drawing her. She knew his sketchbook was filled with drawings of her, but she never asked to look at them. She wasn't sure if Dean wanted to share them.

"Why do you always draw me, Dean?" Lanee suddenly asked.

"Because you don't look like most people." He said, his attention still focused on the drawing. "You're face is very angular and it's symmetrical. You're beautiful, but not in the way that other people are. Plus you have cool hair." Dean's explanation made her feel better than the possibly real Valentine's Day card.

"Hey!" Seamus interjected. "How come everytime I compliment Lanee it's awkward but when you do it, it's okay?"

"Because you make it awkward, Shay." Lanee laughed. "You blush and turn away instead of just saying it like it's no big deal."

For a while, they forgot why they were all locked in their common room rather than in class. As time dragged on, no students went to bed, desperate to hear news. It had gotten around that the ginger clan was missing, and rumors had already started. Some first year girls say it was Ginny that stole Potter's notebook, that it had the map to the Chamber inside. A story even started that George was actually a monster disguised as a twin. Everyone failed to mention that Harry Potter was missing too, Well if something crazy is happening, Potter is probably there. Lanee and several others thought.

The waiting continued.