Dark

Chapter 29

Draco
It was strange to think that Eleanor and I were now friends. Not in the strained way that we had been before, but actual friends. I wasn’t sure if the strangeness of it all came from the fact that Eleanor was a Potter, or that she was likely the only person I wasn’t friends with simply because of their connection to my family. And even though I had been drawn to her and had wanted to be friends with her, I knew that it was going to take getting used to. Not only on my part, but on Eleanor’s as well.
Though I grew up having friends thanks to my father’s connections to other important families, I felt as though I could relate to Eleanor in a way. She had said that she hadn’t had friends before, and it had become clear through the past months that this was true. She certainly didn’t seem to understand how to make or keep friends, but she also never seemed to want to make connections with people in the first place. Other than Potter that is. Though that seems to be a thing of the past now as well. When I think about it though, I’ve never made friends simply because I liked a person. It’s always been about connections, about blood-statuses. This was different, it was new.
The fact that Eleanor would need time to get used to the new situation became even more obvious during our next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Eleanor had filed into the room behind me and taken the seat next to me as usual. While I had been annoyed by this at the beginning of the year, I was now glad that this seat was filled by her rather than Crabbe or Goyle. At least someone competent was sitting next to me.
“Today we’ll be focusing on hex-deflection.” Moody had growled from the front of the room.
As Moody blathered on about hexes and their counters, I found my attention wandering. I didn’t appear to be the only one. In fact, the only person who seemed to be completely focused on Moody other than Granger was Eleanor. Unlike Granger though, who appeared to be listening intently to every single word, Eleanor was simply keeping her eyes trained on Moody and set into that blazing glare of hers. This wasn’t unusual behavior for her towards Moody, but I found myself wondering why it was that she was so often hostile towards him. I suppose his trick early in the year where he revealed the secret of her wand core didn’t help lighten Eleanor’s attitude towards him. But she had been acting this way with him since our very first lesson. Was simply that she resented his use of the Unforgivable Curses that day, or was it something else entirely?
“What’s going on?” I asked quietly, watching Eleanor closely for any change in expression.
“Nothing.” She whispered.
“You know, friends are supposed to talk to each other, and if we’re friends now, I think you should tell me what exactly it is about Moody that sets you off so badly.” I responded.
For the first time since Moody entered the room, Eleanor looks away from him and her eyes bore into me instead. I can nearly feel her trying to read the intentions of my question from my face. Calculating. Eleanor was always calculating what and when to share something that was on her mind. Never an open book.
Just when I think she’s about to answer me, she looks away again.
Minutes later, with Eleanor still watching him pointedly, Moody informs us that we’ll be demonstrating our hex-deflection abilities. He begins to call students up one at a time, sending a hex their way. Some are able to protect themselves, some aren’t so lucky. When a student fails to deflect a hex, Moody corrects their mistakes and then gives them another go. By the second chance, most students are able to deflect the minor hexes that Moody is using.
Potter nearly misses his name being called to go next, and when I look over toward him I see that he’s watching Eleanor. He looks odd, and I recognize the expression on his face as guilt. What could he have managed to do to Eleanor this time?
Once Weasley has finally grabbed Potter’s attention and pushed him towards the front of the room, I remember that Eleanor never showed back up in Hogsmeade on Saturday. She had disappeared to do something that she refused to explain, and though she had said she would be back, she never returned. I had looked for her at dinner that night, but she wasn’t there. She hadn’t even been in the common room late that night like she would usually have been after everyone else had gone off to bed. I didn’t see her again until the next day. So something must have happened between them then, why else would Eleanor have disappeared for the rest of the day, and why else would Potter be looking so guilty now?
As Potter took his seat again between Weasley and Granger, I caught him looking back at Eleanor every couple of minutes, that same strained expression of guilt on his face.
Eventually Eleanor and I were amongst the last four or so students that hadn’t been called. That was when Moody called her to the front of the room. As she approached him, I got the feeling that Moody wasn’t going to test Eleanor in the same way he had tested everyone else. Much like his hostile test of the Imperius curse on her, I could practically sense that he was going to challenge her more severely in this than he had with the other students.
“Ready Miss Potter?” Moody asks, narrowing his eyes slightly at Eleanor.
“Yes.” She answered simply.
Moody’s hex was quick, just a mere flick of his wand. He hadn’t even uttered a word when he sent it. Just as I had suspected, he was treating Eleanor differently, challenging her more than the rest of us. Rather than give her the split-second advantage of knowing what hex he was using, he sent her a non-verbal one.
Even with that added complexity, Eleanor managed to deflect the hex easily. She had just started to turn back toward the desks when Moody raised his wand again. Another non-verbal hex had been shot from his wand and Eleanor just barely managed to defend herself. As soon as she had, another hex was flying in her direction, a sickly green shot of light headed right for her. This time she was ready for the onslaught. She deflected the hex almost effortlessly and before Moody had the chance to move his wand arm at all she had already shot a spell at him. I had never heard the spell she used, but if I had to guess I was sure that it had come from one of the books she had been taking from the restricted section of the library.
Moody deflected the hex with a non-verbal spell, making it simply dissipate in mid-air before it could reach him. Moody’s eyes were narrowed more severely now towards Eleanor and when I looked at her again I noticed that her eyes had gone wide. Something had just happened between the two of them, something that the rest of us didn’t understand. But I needed to know.
Eleanor stood there for a moment as her typical glare returned to her face, she waited for Moody to challenge her again but it never came. After nearly a full minute of silence, Moody called Davis to the front of the room. Eleanor returned to her seat, her hand still clamped tightly around her wand.
“What the hell was that about?” I whispered harshly.
“It was nothing.” Eleanor answered, refusing to look my way.
“Eleanor –“ I started.
“Not right now, okay?” Eleanor whispered back. “I’ll tell you some other time, just not right now.”

Harry
It had been nearly a week since I met with Sirius. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up with Eleanor. I wanted to try to mend our relationship, to fix what damage I had caused, but I wasn’t sure that I could. Would Eleanor simply hold a grudge against me for the rest of our lives? Could she ever really forgive me for having denied her? For having turned her away? And what is thinking now?
I had specifically decided against telling Eleanor about seeing Sirius last weekend, I had figured she wouldn’t find out. Now that she had though, I wasn’t sure what she would think of the situation. Does she assume that I did it because I didn’t want her there? Did she think that I didn’t want for her to know Sirius? All of these questions had been running through my head in a near constant stream since Saturday afternoon.
Ron and Hermione had tried to reason that talking to Eleanor could solve everything. While they were probably right, I simply didn’t know how to start a conversation with her. I didn’t know how to approach her seeking peace, when I was certain that she hated me.
All in all, I was utterly surprised when Potions rolled around on Friday afternoon and Eleanor walked it and made her way towards our table rather than Malfoy’s. I wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but setting her stuff down and taking a seat with Ron, Hermione, and I was not what I expected. Apparently Malfoy hadn’t been expecting it either, as he glared in our direction for a moment before turning toward the front of the room again.
Eleanor didn’t try to speak to us, or offer any explanation of what she was doing. She didn’t speak at all until Neville showed up to take his usual seat at our table only to find it filled by Eleanor.
“Sorry Neville, but I need this spot today. I convinced Seasmus to take my spot though, so you could still sit with the Gryffindor’s and wouldn’t have to deal with Malfoy. I hope that’s alright.” Eleanor said, giving Neville a soft expression, not something she did for many people from what I could tell.
“Oh…alright then. Just today, right?” Neville asked timidly.
“Yes. Just today Neville.” Eleanor answered.
As Neville shuffled off to another table Snape swept into the room. With a flick of his wand the door slammed shut. A stifling silence followed before Snape spoke.
“Today you will each be brewing a different potion.” He drawled. “These slips of parchment are the potion that you will be brewing, begin immediately.” With a wave of Snape’s wand, a pile of parchment slips floated off his desk and divided themselves amongst us.
I caught up my slip of parchment as it reached me and turned it over to read the words Dizziness Draught written upon it. When I looked up I noticed Eleanor’s hand was raised. Unlike everyone else in the room, she didn’t seem to have received a piece of parchment.
“Miss Potter, I’d like to speak with you up front, please.” Snape said, not even looking up to notice Eleanor’s raised hand.
I watched as she walked away and exchanged quiet words with Snape at his desk. Within moments she was walking back towards our table with a book clutched in her hands. She set it down as she dug out her supplies and I could make out the words “Advanced Potion Making” on the front cover.
Snape was giving Eleanor a more advanced potion to make yet again. I couldn’t help but wonder why he did this, and why only with Eleanor. Surely Hermione was the top of the class in Potions just like everything else. If Eleanor was being given more advanced work because of her skills, wouldn’t Hermione be given more advanced work as well? Or was he only providing Eleanor with extra opportunities because she was in his house? In addition to that, Snape always seemed to treat Eleanor more kindly than the rest of us. That is if anyone could use the word kind in describing Snape in any situation. It was true though, he treated Eleanor differently. He had hated me from the moment he saw me arrive at Hogwarts, all because I was the son of James Potter. So why doesn’t he hate Eleanor as well? What’s so different about her that makes Snape treat her this way? It can’t only be because she’s in his house, can it?
I’m only pulled back out of my thoughts when I hear Eleanor say my name.
“So, Harry, what exactly do you think of Professor Moody?” She asked as she carefully sprinkled a powdered ingredient into her cauldron.
“Moody?” I asked, unsure where such a random question was coming from. “I suppose he’s fine. Why?”
“Something is off about him. I’m not sure what, but I just know that something is wrong.” Eleanor answers. “In Defense yesterday, when I sent that hex at him, the way he blocked it…the spell he used to do that is really Dark Magic. Most people wouldn’t even know that spell if Dark Magic wasn’t their typical means of defense.”
I considered her for a moment, unsure what to say. Was she really suggesting that Moody was some sort of Dark wizard? He couldn’t be. He had fought against them for the Ministry for years.
“Moody used to be an Auror, Eleanor. He probably just knows about that spell from his work with the Ministry. I mean, that would make sense, wouldn’t it Hermione?” I turned to Hermione for support, waiting a moment as her eyes moved between me and Eleanor. After a moment of hesitation, Hermione nodded her head.
“Yes, he could have learned it simply from having to defend himself against a variety of Dark Magic as an Auror.” Hermione said quietly, her eyes once again trained on her cauldron.
“Don’t you ever feel strange around him? Like he’s up to something, or he’s hiding something?” Eleanor asked.
“No. Not really.” I told her, before trying to change the subject. “Look, Eleanor, about last weekend…do you know about the dog we were with?”
“You mean about Black?” She answered simply as she stirred her potion counterclockwise. “Of course I knew. It was obvious the moment I saw the three of you standing there with a big black dog. Dumbledore’s already informed me about Black’s animagus form.”
“Look, I’m really sorry –“
“Just stop, Harry. You’ve made it clear that you don’t consider us family, so why would I ever expect you to act as though I have a right to know about or to even see or speak to Black?” Eleanor looked up at me, her face blank. “I’m not at all surprised that you left me out of it. People don’t invite people they don’t like to tag along with them.”
“That’s not true, Eleanor. I don’t dislike you…” I said quietly.
She never responded though. She was silent again until the end of class, not once bothering to even look up in my direction.
“Bring a phial of your potion to the front for grading.” Snape called out as the bell rang out for the end of the lesson.
As Eleanor siphoned some of her potion into a phial, Hermione leaned over and peered into the cauldron, her brows scrunched up in confusion.
“What potion did Snape have you brew, Eleanor?” She asked.
“Just a Blood Replenishing Potion.” Eleanor answered simply.
Hermione’s eyes widened at this news and her mouth hung slightly open for a moment.
“That’s N.E.W.T. level work. Snape has you doing something that advanced?” Hermione asked, looking incredulous.
“I suppose so.” Eleanor said, as she emptied her cauldron of its contents with a simple wave of her wand.
Without any further explanation, Eleanor packed up her belongings, took her phial to Snape, and swept quickly out of the room.
“How do you think she got Seasmus to sit with the Slytherins?” Ron asked as we packed our supplies away.
“She promised to do my next two potions essays.” Seasmus said as he walked by our table.
“The next two?” Ron asked loudly. “I wonder if I can get her to do mine too.”
“Ron!” Hermione said harshly.
As we made our way to the Great Hall for dinner, I couldn’t help but wonder why Eleanor distrusted Moody so much. Surely an Auror was someone that we should be able to trust. And of course, it only seemed likely that Moody could have learned plenty of Dark Magic during his days as an Auror. In fact, I had no idea what spell Eleanor used against Moody, maybe the only proper way to deflect it was the spell that Moody used. Maybe that’s why he had to use Dark Magic, because it was the only option Eleanor had given him. It would only be too likely that Eleanor had used Dark Magic herself. Or course, that would mean that Eleanor wanted Moody to look bad. Could that really be the case? Maybe that was the only way to deflect whatever spell she had used, and she just didn’t realize it?
As we walked into the Great Hall minutes later, I found my eyes wandering to the staff table. There Moody was, drinking from his private hip flask, caught up in conversation with Professor Sprout. Could there really be something off about him?
Then my mind wandered back to questions of what I could do to set things right with Eleanor. I couldn’t simply leave things the way they were. Yet I didn’t know how to make the situation any better.
It had only been a few minutes when the Weasley twins jumped into the seats next to Ron and I. As usual, they wore wide grins.
“What have you done this time?” Ron asked warily.
“Oh nothing.” One of the twins answered.
“Just tricked Lee into eating some Ice Mice. He’s chattering and squeaking his way up to the hospital wing now for Madame Pompfrey to set him right.” The other chimed in.
“So mature.” Hermione said derisively.
“Oh calm down, Hermione. It was all in good fun.”
I had turned back to my food and my thoughts again only to be dragged back to the conversation by one of the twins.
“What’s up with you? We thought you’d at least find the Ice Mice funny.”
“It’s nothing.” I answered casually.
“He’s just upset about Eleanor.” Ron said through a mouthful of food.
“Eleanor? What’s up with her anyway?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“She ran right into me in Hogsmeade, wasn’t watching where she was going I guess. She seemed really upset about something, not quite like herself. At least not from what I can tell.”
“Yeah, that was Harry.” Ron said, jumping into the conversation again.
I narrowed my eyes at him, wishing he would shut his mouth or at least stuff it with so much food he couldn’t speak properly.
“What did you do to her, Harry?”
“Nothing.” I said quickly. The twins eyed me suspiciously and I let out a sigh as I continued on. “Alright, I just…I upset her. I didn’t mean to, but now I don’t really know how to put it right.”
“Well maybe you should just talk it out with her.” One of the twins suggested.
“That’s what Ron and I have been trying to tell him, but he won’t listen.” Hermione said.
“Can we please not turn dinner into some sort of therapy session?” I pleaded.
Eventually the conversation turned towards the tournament, and I sat quietly as the others guessed at what the next task could be.