Shadow of the Prophecy

Ch.2 - What If I Told You I'm A Mastermind?

Helena's heart skips and flops strangely in her chest on the way back to Ravenclaw tower, and no matter how she evens her breathing and focuses, she can not remove the smile from her face.

She replays the scene from the library over and over in her head on her way, her cheeks growing ever hotter as she does so.

That boy, hovering over Helena at the bookshelf as her heart had pounded from her fright. The way he had smirked at having caught her as his hand had caught her hip. It had been like some game that they were playing and she had lost.

As she had taken stock of how close they were, her heart had begun to pound for different reasons. She had looked down to see if his robes would give her any indication of how much trouble she was in and they had, of course, when she had seen the badge. Of all the people to be caught by, it just had to be one of the most attractive prefects she had ever laid eyes on.

Helena had never been one for luck, truth be told.

Then, just as she had begun to think that he - this Slytherin Prefect - was most definitely going to drag her out of the library and give her detention, he had mocked her word choice and pulled the book down himself.

Helena had felt oddly disappointed when he had stepped back, though that had been easily forgotten when he had given her advice - advice! - on how to use the disillusionment charm to avoid detection in the first place. She hadn't been able to help herself, then; slighted a bit at the insinuation that she did not know the disillusionment charm's limitations. She had needed to draw attention to the prefects' decided lack of it; a blow to pride for a blow to pride and he had not disappointed.

He had scowled and Helena had momentarily forgotten what air was as it darkened his rich brown eyes and marred the freckles spattered like paint flecks across the bridge of his nose and his strong cheekbones. She had needed to laugh and joke, desperate to play off how her mind had screamed at his handsome features and her heart had skipped a beat when he leaned back against the bookshelf.

Forgive her the moxy, but Helena had needed to regain some control over the sense he had stolen from her. He had talked to her like they were just two students flirting, not a Prefect and a student he had caught out of bed in an off-limits space. Besides, that stretch of his! Markedly unfair, as was the way he had rolled her name around in his mouth like he had wanted to taste it.

Perhaps it is true what the other houses say. Slytherins really can be a dangerous lot.

And then! Then - and this is the part Helena is ashamed to admit had been the final nail in the coffin of her traitorous heart - the prefect had let her make her rambling case and handed her the book before escorting her out of the library.

When she had looked back at him to appreciate the look of him one more time, Helena had tripped up on her own feet and he had covered for her. She'd wear out the memory of him looking up at her from under his dark, messy bangs and long lashes, she was sure, because it had gone straight from her heart to someplace much deeper and lower.

Helena had never felt anything like that before.

The image, the way the boy had covered for her; it almost makes her feel a little bad about being dishonest, if that look hadn't come about as a direct result of her actions in the first place.

Helena hadn't lied, per se. The book did contain information on the various flora and fauna around Hogwarts. It just doesn't happen to be all it contains. It had been a little white lie. A Slytherin should know better than to take someone's word at face value without at least flicking through the pages and verifying the truth, anyway.