Ascendio - Book 1

Chapter 11 - Crescentia

I was not happy with my Potions partner.

I sat at the end of the desk, inching away from my brother. The cauldron in front of us was bubbling strangely, so I flipped through my textbook to fix it, trying to find excuses not to look at him.

The silence was suffocating.

"Ah, a nice brew of Angel's Trumpet Draught," Professor Slughorn said, smiling as he walked over from another student's table. "Now, remember not to lean to close to the potion while you work--if you inhale it, you may receive fairly nasty effects."

When neither of us responded, the professor forces his smile and walks toward another table.

I wish I could just walk away from this awkward situation, I thought longingly. Being paired with my brother was just another stroke of bad luck. I really wished he would break the ice--I don't want to talk to him first. I don't really want to talk to him at all, but I know one of us has to.

"So... how is Hufflepuff house?" Chandler asked awkwardly.

I glared at him, but inwardly I gave a sigh of relief. "They're nice people. At least, they're better than the people you associate with."

A flicker of annoyance flashes over his face, and he turns back to his book.

I dice up an Angel's Trumpet flower, sprinkling the cut petals into the bubbling mixture.
My words taste sour in my mouth, and I find myself wishing I could take them back. I pick up the ladle and swirl it around in the Draught, trying to distract myself.

My head hurts when I look at him--I want to connect with him, to talk with him, but I... can't. It's weird, being separated from him. It's almost painful. And sitting next to him... this ache in my head keeps building. It'll burst any moment, and I'm not sure what I'll do.

Distracted, I swirl the ladel a bit too much and hot potion splashes on to my hand. I stifle a cry and pull back my hand, my eyes watering.

Chandler looks over, worried, and grabs a wet cloth. Instead of handing it to me, he gently cleans my hand himself, then shoves the now-warm cloth to the side of the table and looks away.

"I'm sorry," I blurt. It's no more than a whisper, but I'm sure he can hear me. The ache in my head is pounding through my skull, and I just can't resist it anymore, no matter how much I wish I could. "I... I know there are good Slytherins. I know that you are a good Sly--a good person. I just... I can't forgive them."

Chandler turns back towards me and smiles. "I'm sorry for... abandoning you in Hufflepuff house. And sorry for whatever else you're mad at me for."

I grin at him, then turn back to the potion. I can feel tears behind my eyes, but I hold them in. Today was going to be good. I could feel it.

I head to my room, my head tired from all the facts stuffed into my head after the long day.

The few friends I've made in Hufflepuff are all studying together. I can feel Tristan's eyes on me as I leave the room, but I'm too exhausted to talk to him.

The few stairs to my bedroom seem like an endless climb. When I finally get to the top, I'm heaving for breath, my books clutched tightly to my chest. I just want to sleep...

I open the creaky door to my shared room and sigh in relief. My roommates aren't here. Perfect! I get some peace and quiet to myself.

I toss my books on the bedside table and flop onto my covers with a sigh. Who knew wizarding school was so stressful? I need to hold my grades... maybe I should've stayed downstairs with the other kids... Defeated, I roll onto my side, gazing at my bedside table.

There's a little glass vase I put the violet in this morning. It glimmers in the fading sunlight, throwing tiny arcs of rainbow and light across the otherwise dim dorm room. The purple of the flower and the gold of the sunset compliment each other--the color of the petals are fading fast, but I drink them in nonetheless, savoring the rich purple color. My flower looks rather dead compared to the one next to it--

--wait. Another violet?

I sit up in bed, staring at the table. I don't remember putting another one there... And no one in Hufflepuff knows about Violetta. No one in the school knows... except...

My eyes well up. Oh, Chandler, I sniffle. Laying back down on my bed, I pull my covers over me and gaze at the little glass vase. As I slowly drift asleep, the flowers in the vase seem to move the tiniest bit, like Violetta had gently drifted a hand over them.

The darkness of dreams was tinted purple and gold that night.

Hey, DinoNeko here. Sorry for the (really) late and (really) short chapter. I'm just getting back in the swing of things, and plus, I've started a new Percy Jackson story with the talented supernaturalbones, who does most of my book covers.

Spring break is coming up, so I'll probably post more Acendio then.

See you around!