Dark Whispers and Deadly Nights [t.n.]

02

After the incident with Nott, the rest of the ride went fast like a blur. Before she knew it, the train came to a halt and the landscape outside her window stilled. Grabbing her trunk, Blanche, along with Malena, headed to the carriages, maneuvering her way past the excited but nervous first years.

Walking swiftly alongside each other, the two brunettes picked the nearest carriage and climbed in, their hair dancing over their shoulders in the brisk wind. Malena and Blanche were peculiar friends, in a way; they were content with conversing little instead of always talking like typical people. It was like they knew what the other felt without having to vocalize, so they didn't really chat unless they needed to or something was bothering them. Both halves of the duo were avid bookworms and the Ravenclaw took out her newest read while Blanche pulled out one of her all-time favorite novels, Pride and Prejudice. Malena loved exploring new books with undiscovered plots, but her Gryffindor counterpart was the opposite. Blanche stuck with the same few works that served as a source of comfort and never changed whenever she re-visited them. The girl, in general, was used to stability in her life, which was ironic since she was in a house well-known for its recklessness.

When they arrived at school, she felt a warm rush of nostalgia rush through her. It was hard for her to process that she was now a fifth-year, on the brink of adulthood with her OWLs coming up on the horizon. A jolt ran through her bones as she jumped out of the carriage, her shoes meeting the gravel on the ground. She ventured towards the castle, her best friend following in her tracks, fixated on the beautiful architecture framed by the stars in the night sky.

They parted ways when they reached the Main Hall. Malena sent Blanche a kind smile before sitting down with Luna Lovegood at the Ravenclaw table, looking rather hungry.

Sighing, the other brunette turned towards the Gryffindor table, searching for a spare seat. All the spots were taken except for the one next to Hermione Granger, a girl in her year. She and Blanche were roommates, but they didn't talk often since the former was always busy with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. The two male Gryffindors crossed paths with danger too often. Apparently, the one encounter Potter had with death as an infant wasn't enough, for the whole time he'd attended Hogwarts, there had been multiple occurrences where he almost died. It was like trouble was attracted to him as bees were to honey.

Taking a step forward, she sat next to the curly-haired girl, whose head was buried in a book. One thing they definitely had in common was their keenness for reading. Unlike her, though, Blanche used it as an escape from reality, not because she genuinely loved it. "Hi, Hermione," she greeted her, nervously grinning. "How was your summer?"

Looking up, her roommate returned her grin when she saw who it was. "Blanche, hello. It was good, thanks. A little hectic, after what happened last year, but it was okay. How about yours?"

Shrugging, Blanche folded her hands in her lap and responded, "Er, it was okay I suppose. I didn't do much, since my parents freaked out after happened and kept too close of an eye on me. To be honest, I don't think they really wanted me to come back here. Hopefully, it will be different this year."

She cringed at her tendency to info-dump. Did Hermione really need to know about her parents' tendencies? Probably not, she concluded.

But, she knew fifth-year wouldn't be different. The events of the previous school term were embedded into everyone's minds and wouldn't go away. The whole wizarding world had thought that Voldemort, arguably the darkest wizard ever, had gone away after trying to kill Potter as a baby. Last year, however, he showed up again during the Triwizard Tournament and killed a seventh-year Hufflepuff. Once again, he tried to kill Harry but it didn't work and he went into hiding. All the students were on edge of him returning for the millionth time, like an infection. Well, not all of them, actually.