Serena Black || 𝑨𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒂

Cold as Ice

• Edmund Hall •

"We are all lost stars
trying to light up the sky."

There was hardly any sign of autumn at the end of November. The trees had completely shed their colourful leaves and the temperatures had dropped so low that the students could expect a huge load of snow at any second.

Edmund sat on the shore of the black lake and stared up at the blue-grey sky. If one didn't know any better, they'd think he was one of the children who looked up every day, looking for a sign of the first snow. But he hadn't come here to look for a cloud that would turn the lands of Hogwarts into a white winter wonderland. He had come here to think, which he often did in this very spot.

From his pocket, he pulled out a rather worn piece of parchment, the last thing he had from his mum. He had only found the letter weeks after her death and this discovery had finally confirmed to him that she had not died of natural causes. Because it was a farewell letter with a warning.

Camille Hall had never agreed with her husband's views, yet she had largely allowed her children to be brought up according to these very beliefs. Edmund had seen through this, unlike Damien. She had done it to protect herself and her two sons. But the letter confirmed that Edmund's mother had in no way sat idly by, on the contrary, it seemed she had tried to take action against the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. She had tried to carry on Regulus Black's legacy, what exactly that meant Edmund didn't know, only that it had been her undoing. She was gone. Edmund's only support against his cold and traditional father.

If it had been any colder, the warm tear would certainly have frozen to ice on his skin after a few seconds. Like a tiny icicle. Somehow he liked the idea.

He thought of his only brother, Damien couldn't help it if he was like this. That he was the first-born and therefore had to fulfil his duties, he knew no other way. Edmund, on the other hand, was more than unimportant to his father and he let him feel this often enough, that he was beneath his brother. Just the way Damien ordered him around and gave him tasks that were actually his duties. He was tired of doing the dirty work for him, but he was already way too deep into it, he knew that he was playing his role perfectly. But sometimes appearances got mixed up with reality and that could be his undoing. Perhaps he was beginning to feel too comfortable in this wishful thinking.

Over the next few weeks, Edmund spent quite a lot of time with Black. At least more than usual. Almost every day she insisted on being allowed to read one of his books or at least borrow one from him.

The dark curls fell into her face as she bent over the book almost eagerly. He almost felt bad. She was trying so hard and he already knew that there would be nothing useful in the books.

Edmund's gaze fell on her hand or, more precisely, on the back of her hand. Black tried to hide it with the sleeves of her blouse, but he had noticed it days ago. The wound now looked as if it had just been torn open, which was probably no surprise after detention an hour ago.

Then he did something rather risky; he bent over the table and before Black could react, he had already grabbed her hand. He gently brushed her sleeve aside and stared at the words carved into it, which he hadn't been able to fully decipher before: I need to know who I have to obey.

"You should put something on it," Edmund muttered, ignoring the indignant look Black gave him. He reached into his cloak with his free hand and pulled out a small vial. He knew from his own experience that this would help the wound to heal and prevent a scar.

"Thank you," she murmured after he had dripped a little of the transparent liquid onto the back of her hand. A little embarrassed, she withdrew her hand. "What's that?"

"Magic water."

Black snorted contemptuously at him and raised one of her eyebrows impatiently.

"Diptam," Edmund finally corrected himself with a grin. "After a few applications, you won't even see a scar and you'll be spared any annoying questions."

She nodded briefly and bit her lower lip, as if she wanted to answer, but then changed her mind. Black immersed herself in her book again and Edmund looked at her for a while, lost in thought, before holding the deadly boring book in front of his nose again and not even bothering to really understand what was written there.

Over the next half hour, he noticed that Black looked at her wristwatch disproportionately often and finally hurriedly packed up her things. "Sorry, I have to go. I'm meeting Maxon."

"That's all right," Edmund replied, also tidying up the books after she had hurried out of the library. With a pile of books under his arms, he was about to step through the high door when he almost bumped into the Frenchman.

"Watch it, Hall," Devillier grumbled at him, but Edmund merely grinned superiorly. "Well, you've just missed your girlfriend."

He turned back to him, his eyes flashing angrily. "You'd better stay away from her, or do you think I don't know what your little meetings are really for?"

"Unlike you, I won't keep her waiting," Edmund replied mockingly. "If you hurry, you might still be on time."

"On time for what?" Devillier asked suspiciously, scrutinising him from top to bottom as if he expected him to be plotting something.

"Well, for your date," he added, visibly impatient. Was the Frenchman really that slow on the uptake? Or had he perhaps even completely forgotten that he had a date with his girlfriend?

"Maybe we'd have one today if she hadn't cancelled on me all week because of you," Devillier commented sourly and it seemed as if he had had enough of the Slytherin in front of him, because shaking his head, Devillier disappeared behind a shelf of books on magical plants.

Edmund remained at the entrance to the library, somewhat puzzled. The whole week? But then why did Black run off every time with the excuse of wanting to meet him? Why had she lied to him? And not only him, but also her oh-so-great boyfriend. But the longer he thought about the supposed reason, the less sense her hasty disappearance made. There was now only one option for Edmund; to find out for himself at the next opportunity.