Dark

Chapter 26

Harry
The conversation at breakfast was hushed. Ron, Hermione, and I were all rather restless. I can’t say for either of them, but I hadn’t slept at all the previous night. Eleanor’s words kept running through my mind, repeating themselves, becoming ingrained within my skull. She had been eleven and should have been at Hogwarts, but instead she suffered at an orphanage only to be kicked out and attacked.
Attacked.
That single word was the root of everything that I couldn’t get out of my mind. There had been no details, no explanation. She had said that she had been attacked and never once specified in what way she was attacked. And yet we all knew exactly what she meant. We knew deep down from the uneasy feelings in our stomachs that she had meant one thing in particular.
I spent months trying to reconcile the fact that I could even possibly have a sister, and that whole time she must have just been thankful to be away from that orphanage and everything else. Every thought I had over the past few months seemed completely selfish since last night. I hadn’t even bothered to speak to her properly the first time we had met. It was no wonder that Eleanor resented me.
“But what do we do now?” Ron asked quietly. “Do we just ignore it, do we bring it up? Are we supposed to tell someone?”
“Dumbledore likely already knows.” Hermione said. Her eyes were noticeably red and I knew that she must have been crying throughout the night. “Look, if Eleanor brings it up again, that’s one thing. But she may not want to talk about it. She was drunk, she probably never even meant to tell us in the first place. So if she doesn’t want to talk about it, then don’t.”
“You’re right, she was completely wasted. She may not even remember what happened.” Ron nodded.
Hermione’s head suddenly perked up and her eyes widened as she whispered, “There she is.”
Ron and I followed Hermione’s gaze to find that Eleanor had just walked into the Great Hall.
“Is she heading this way?” Ron asked as we watched Eleanor turn toward the Gryffindor table.
She looked exhausted, and her eyes kept shifting away from us as she approached. The Eleanor I saw last night was completely unlike the Eleanor I had experienced in the past few months. I had only seen her smile or laugh a couple of times, and she never appeared to be particularly happy. Until she started talking about the orphanage last night, that was all Eleanor was. She was smiling and laughing and almost bubbly in a way. It was almost the most normal I had ever seen her be. But now she was neither her usual self or the girl that I had encountered last night. Now she looked confused and lost, unsure of her next move. It was very similar to the sudden change I saw in her when she had started to talk about the orphanage. It was vulnerability. After only knowing the strong and independent version of Eleanor for months now, vulnerability was difficult to see on her.
As she reached the table, her eyes shifted between the three of us, lingering for a moment on me before she looked away again. Her usual ability to stare down even the likes of Moody or Snape had evaporated.
“You’re going to forget about everything that happened last night. Anything I may have said is completely off limits. We will never mention it again, and if you do then you’ll be sorry.” Eleanor said harshly, though the usual bite to her words had disappeared. She finally looked back up at us before simply stating, “That’s all.”
Eleanor turned and took two steps away from us, but then she came to a sudden stop. She turned around again and looked right at me. In that moment her gaze seemed to intensify. It was close to the same feeling of being x-rayed that I had around Dumbledore.
“Why were you down near Slytherin house anyway?” It was a simple question.
“I was looking for you.” I said, trying to keep my eyes trained on Eleanor’s. I hadn’t had the chance to tell her after I realized she was drunk, but now I could make sure she knew. I needed her to know. “I wanted to let you know that you were wrong. I don’t hate you.”
I wasn’t sure what to expect. I never really knew how Eleanor would react to anything. It took a moment before anything happened, a moment in which Eleanor just stared at me, her expression never changing and completely unreadable. Then she quickly shook her head and walked away without another word.
“I think that went better than expected.” Ron said from beside me. “I mean, she didn’t hex us out of our seats, so…”
I wasn’t paying attention though. I had looked away for only a second, but when I looked up again I could see Eleanor reach the doors of the Great Hall at the same moment that Malfoy was walking in. He tried to say something to her but she didn’t even acknowledge him before disappearing into the Entrance Hall.
As Malfoy watched after her I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly he was going to do with the information he had learned about her last night. I couldn’t imagine how much more broken Eleanor could get if that kind of secret got out to the entire school. The strange thing though, was that Eleanor didn’t seem to be the only person today who was different than usual. Malfoy looked just as confused and lost as Eleanor had.
When he finally turned away from the doors of the Great Hall, his eyes latched onto me for a brief moment. Any concern that had traced his face just previously had melted away as his nose scrunched up at me. Then he was gone, headed for the Slytherin table.

Draco
I’ve been trying to speak to Eleanor all day. By the time I got to the Slytherin common room this morning she was already gone. Then I had run into her on my way into the Great Hall. I tried to talk to her, but she just walked away. I wasn’t sure what I would say, really, but I felt like I had to say something. And for the rest of the day, I haven’t been able to get close enough to Eleanor to get her attention. In the course of one night, a number of things had seemed to change.
Eleanor has always been different. I could tell that from the moment she was sorted. I could tell during our first Defense Against the Dark Arts class together. It was in the way that she didn’t shy away from the idea of Dark Magic. It was intriguing, and that intrigue is what pulled me in and made me look closer. She was a closed book, full of secrets. And I had wanted to know those secrets, to figure them out.
Now that I’m aware of just how dark some of her secrets are, I don’t want to try to figure them all out. Yet I still want to be around her. As much as I wanted to pretend that my desire to be around her was because of a need to discover what she was hiding about her past or about the whichever book she was currently carrying around, that wasn’t truly the case. I knew now, for certain, that I cared for Eleanor on some level. I didn’t want to be friends to piss off Potter, I didn’t want to be friends to trick her into revealing her secrets. I just wanted to be her friend.
By far, it’s one of the strangest things I’ve ever experienced. I would have never expected to be friends with a Potter of all people.
There was only one class left, Defense Against the Dark Arts. I had decided earlier in the day that if I hadn’t spoken to Eleanor by this class, then I would have to make sure she heard me out before she could run off at the end.
Eventually the seat next to me was filled and when I looked over I was glad to see that it was Eleanor. I had worried that in her efforts to avoid me today she may not even sit next to me for this period. But there she was, as she always had been this year.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as she pulled out her text book, followed by another and much larger one. She propped it open on the desk and buried herself within the pages. I took a closer look at the book only to find that it had been charmed so that I couldn’t read it. If this book had been charmed just like the copy of Secrets of the Darkest Arts that she had been reading a couple of months ago, then it was safe to assume that this book was about Dark Magic as well.
How was she even getting her hands on these?
“So which book is that then?” I asked.
She didn’t answer, she kept her eyes trained on the pages and her mouth shut tight.
“We don’t have to talk about last night, you know.” I told her.
Still no reaction.
“Do you even remember last night? You were pretty wasted.” I said more quietly. It was a risk, but making her mad was more likely to get me a reaction of some sort.
“Of course I remember last night.” Eleanor said through clenched teeth as she shot me a furious glare. “I remember all of last night. Drunk or not, I have a pretty damn good memory, Malfoy. Now leave me alone.”
I was about to respond when Moody walked in and drew the class’s attention to the front of the room. I had gotten her to at least react to me, to say something. That was a start.
I sat through the remainder of class, trying to think of what I could possibly say, but nothing came to mind. I couldn’t help but keep glancing toward Eleanor for the entire period, trying to read her face, to tell what it was she was thinking. But she was completely unreadable.
When the bell finally rang and Eleanor sprang out of her seat I reached out for her arm and pulled her back down. She turned her face to me again, looking livid.
“You’re wrong, by the way.” I started, the words tumbling out of my mouth before I could actually think of what I was about to say. “You’re not alone, and you do have friends. Maybe not back then, but you do now.”
“No, I don’t, Malfoy.” Eleanor hissed at me quietly.
“Yes, you do. I don’t just want to be friends with you to piss off Potter, no matter how much you think that’s the truth.” I tried to reign in the anger that was seeping out into my words. I had never felt so unsure of something that I was about to say as I did then, so I took a deep breath before continuing, “You’re different Eleanor, different from pretty much everyone else. I actually enjoy your company which is saying a lot with you being a Potter and all. I like to think we’re actual friends, even if you don’t think so yet. And I think Zabini and that Astoria girl are your friends too.”
I waited for Eleanor to say something, anything. But nothing ever came. She just stared me down, that unreadable expression still on her face. Then in one swift movement she had removed my hand from her arm and was walking out of the classroom.

Eleanor
My head has been spinning for over twenty-four hours. From the moment that Harry decided to ensure all the hostages were pulled out of the lake, I’ve been trying to catch up to everything happening around me. At the moment though, my attempts seemed hopeless.
I was standing at the top of a circular staircase, waiting outside the door of an office I had no desire to visit. Dumbledore had sent for me and I truly didn’t want to be there in that moment. It was only reluctantly that I raised my hand and rapped upon the door.
“Enter,” sounded Dumbledore’s muffled voice.
When I step into the office I notice that it looked much the same as the last time I was here. I hadn’t visited the Headmaster’s Office more than twice before, but on the last occasion I was being told that I could join the fourth years’ class. I had been mistakenly happy about that back then. Now I felt it was pointless to have attempted to do anything to get closer to Harry. As I had been every time someone showed interest at the orphanage, I was sorely disappointed in the end.
Of course, over the years I had stopped expecting that anyone would want to adopt me. So as I grew older and the meetings between myself and potential new parents occurred less often, I knew beforehand that there was no hope. With no expectations, there were no longer any disappointments. When I found out about magic, about Hogwarts, and about Harry, I had allowed myself to hope again. Hope brings disappointment, almost every time.
Dumbledore was seated at the end of the room, behind his desk. He watched me over the top of his half-moon spectacles and I had that ever present feeling around him that he was trying to sift through my mind.
“Professor Snape said that you wanted to see me, sir.” I said as I took the solitary chair across from Dumbledore.
“Yes, Eleanor. I was hoping that we could discuss how you’ve been doing. I’ve been pleasantly surprised by your performance in the tasks thus far. Your ability to take on a fully grown dragon was quite remarkable.” Dumbledore smiled slightly at this, watching me closely before his smile faded again. “But I sense that you’ve been struggling elsewhere.”
I shifted in my seat. One of the few people here that could make me feel nervous was Dumbledore. I knew too well where this conversation was heading now.
“It seems that you and Harry are often at odds with each other.” Dumbledore stated.
“Yes, sir.” I refused to move my gaze from Dumbledore’s.
“Is there any particular reason?” He asked, with that all-knowing expression on his face.
“Harry says that I’m not family to him, sir. He either doesn’t believe that I could be related to him or he’s in denial. Whichever it is makes no difference. He’s made it clear that we shouldn’t be a part of each other’s lives. Truthfully, sir, I think we only speak at all because of the tournament.” I watched Dumbledore as closely as he was watching me. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but just the same as every other time I have been in his presence, he was largely unreadable.
“I’m sure that what Harry said, was said out of anger or confusion. Perhaps even both. I wouldn’t hold it against him if I were you. The situation you two are in, and the suddenness upon which everything has been thrust upon the both you…well it can be quite a lot to handle.” Dumbledore said, only confirming what I already knew. He, much like everyone else favored Harry.
“Well I’m handling it just fine, sir.” I said stiffly.
“Are you sure about that?”
“My studies are going well, I’ve been able to juggle both my school work and preparation for the tasks with ease, and I’ve only had one detention. So I would say that I’m handling things just fine.” I said, finding it more difficult to meet Dumbledore’s gaze as I avoided any mention of the previous night.
“Unfortunately, Miss Potter, that only tells a part of the story. Doesn’t it?” He asked. “It is my understanding that your detention was given for having hexed Rita Skeeter after the wand weighing ceremony.”
“Yes, sir.” I agreed. “Though I daresay she deserved it.”
“I’ve also noticed that you haven’t been attending many meals in the Great Hall. When you do, you don’t often eat.”
Not this again.
“I didn’t realize that attendance at meals was required, sir.”
“It is not, but I do have to admit that I am somewhat worried that you are depriving yourself of the wonderful food that Hogwarts has to offer.”
“I eat, sir. If I weren’t then I think it would be a bit more obvious.” I countered.
“Then let us move on to another concern. You don’t seem to be connecting well with any of the other students.” Dumbledore said.
“Is it now required that I have friends as well as attend meals?” I asked, trying desperately to keep the sarcastic edge out of my voice.
“Eleanor,” Dumbledore leaned a little closer to his desk, “I think that you and I both know how difficult your life has been. I had simply hoped that you could be happy here. After the events of last night though –“
“What events of last night?” I said suddenly.
“We both know what happened last night, Miss Potter.” Dumbledore said simply, as though I should accept that he knows and move on from the idea.
“How do you know?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.
“I have my ways.” He answered.
“Look, last night was last night. It’s done and over with, and it changes nothing.”
“Eleanor –“
“No. This meeting is over. I don’t need to sit here and be taught about the importance of eating full meals and making lasting friendships. You may be the Headmaster, but that’s it. You have no right to get involved in my personal business if it’s not a matter that concerns the school. My grades are good, I’ve had two detentions all year for something that I honestly don’t regret, and I have faced two tasks in this tournament now and I’ve done well. There is nothing else that needs to be discussed.”
All of the words had rushed out of my mouth and before I knew what I was doing I was descending the circular staircase outside of Dumbledore’s office again.
“My, my…In quite the hurry, aren’t we?” Said the stone gargoyle as it settled back into its place before the staircase.
“Shut up.” I hissed back.
My life was none of Dumbledore’s business. It was none of Harry’s or Malfoy’s business either. I was thoroughly sick of the prying. Worse than that though, I was sick of the looks that I kept getting today. Every time I looked at Harry, Ron, Hermione, or Malfoy, it was the same thing. That look of pity, sadness, concern. I didn’t need that, I didn’t want that. It was always easier to pretend that it never happened, and that had always been easier when no one had known.