We Can't Wake Up

Marcus caught Anne’s hand as she was walking into the hall for breakfast. She struggled to keep her face blank as she looked at his face.

“Morning,” Anne stepped closer so that she could hear him better. “I trust you slept well.” Marcus continued. Anne nodded and smiled. “Anne, would you go to the ball with me?”

Anne smiled widely and it took all the will power she possessed not to throw her arms around him. “Yes,” she formed the words with her lips, knowing that if she actually spoke she would probably cry out.

Marcus nodded and walked past her into the hall. Anne stood where she was for a few moments longer until she realised that a couple of Slytherin second years were glaring at her. She smiled sweetly at them and then walked into the hall to eat. Arabella sat beside her and nudged her side.

“I saw that,” Arabella whispered.

“Saw what?” Anne turned to look at her friend.

“You are going to the ball with Marcus Lestrange.” Arabella continued. Anne looked away again when Arabella said Lestrange. She pursed her lips as she remembered that Lestrange wasn’t his real surname. In truth he was Marcus Riddle. She shook her head and let the thought slide form her mind. After yesterday she had decided that it didn’t matter.

Marcus had sent a letter back to Thomas and Mary requesting that they sent his dress robes to him. All the students were receiving large parcels from their parents and girls were constantly gushing about what they were going to wear, how they were going to do their hair and makeup and who they were going with.

Most of the student body knew that Marcus and Anne were going together. Many of them thought back to the day when Marcus had protected Anne from Matthew. Arabella and the rest of Anne’s friends subtly asked her questions about him but to little avail.

Marcus was receiving glares from many students – girls who had wanted to go with him and boys who had wanted to ask Anne to the ball. It almost amused him. What he did not find amusing was the fact that Anne was constantly being plagued with questions about him and so he hadn’t been able to talk to her since he had asked her to the ball.

Three days before the ball he wandered into the library, hoping to borrow a book when he saw her sitting by herself working.

He sat down opposite her and she looked up and smiled. “Sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you,” he spoke quietly as usual but it seemed like he was talking at a normal level because of the silence in the library.

“Don’t worry,” Anne hid the smile that was desperate to burst out. He had never said anything like that before; it was almost as if he were changing, as if he were becoming a different person.

Marcus could also feel the difference. He frowned inwardly as he pondered this for a few moments. Could he really change?

Anne waited, watching him before looking down and starting her work again. Marcus reached out and caught her hand. He removed the quill from her fingers and took her hand in his. They sat unspeaking as he watched his hand as his fingers gently stroked the smooth skin.

Anne smiled to herself as she too watched his fingers. They weren’t the only ones watching. The students who were in the same area of the library as Anne and Marcus watched them and gossiped in hushed voices.