In Finding My Honor

Chapter 16: Suspicions

By the time the snow had melted, Violet's sixteenth birthday had gone. Alyssa had been able to convince the kitchen elves of making her a small, chocolate-strawberry cake, but Violet could only guess that in Alyssa's vocabulary convince and bribe were synonyms. The breakfast of her birthday had brought a few owls barring gifts from her family, and Ginny had offered her a bottle of moisturizing pixie dust oil. More exciting than the presents, though, her father had sent back a letter in response of her intrigue on horcruxes. To her dismay, he too had never heard of such a thing. Late that evening, she snuck off with Draco, the boy wishing her a delightful birthday as they spoke for an hour or more. However, besides this nothing very interesting had occurred on that day, but she wasn't complaining; rather uneventfully celebrate a birthday than not at all.

"Okay, but you have to admit, he's so attractive," said Emma, an obvious flush to her cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess, but he's not really for me." For the last two days, Emma would not shut up about Anthony Goldstein, the Ravenclaw prefect a year older than them.

"I mean, there I was, sitting, all alone in the library," the smile plastered on Emma's face still did not dwindle, even as she began retelling the story for what seemed like the fifth time that morning, "I was absolutely struggling with my Transfiguration's document analysis. All hope was gone, but just as I'm about to give up this handsome young man approaches me. He asked me if I needed any help—and of course seeing that blue prefect badge next to his Ravenclaw one—I had no other choice than to accept the offer," the girl took a gulp of air before continuing, "Gosh, he was so kind. Funny too."

"Then why don't you connect with him more?" Violet encouraged as the pair weaved their way through the jungle of students on their way back from a surprisingly interesting History of Magic class, "It won't do you any good if you just sneak away, day dreaming about him all day,"

"That's true... Violet, you should have seen his eyes! Such beautiful eyes," Her face suddenly dropped, "Oh no, what if he thinks I'm stupid? I was having so much trouble with that document analysis...What if he thinks I'm bottom of the class?"

Violet stopped the girl, setting a supportive hand on her shoulder, "Emma, relax. Just go talk to him."

"Yeah, you're right. If I see him at lunch, I promise I'll talk to him," her voice trailed off before picking up again, "And on top of all of that he's comes from a pureblood family!"

Emma, who also came from a line of purebloods, was the last person to ever call someone out for being muggle-born or to discriminate based on blood status, but there was no denying her attraction to powerful bloodlines. Seeing as her parents no longer believed in the old purist views and had raised their children with much more tolerant ideals, this was surely a trait Emma had picked up from her old-fashioned aunts and uncles.

The crowd grew as the girls turned onto the sixth floor corridor. The densely packed students made it near impossible to navigate through. With mutual agreement, they decided to take the small stairwell on the other end of the sixth floor instead. This route was far from the most direct to Gryffindor Tower, but seeing the circumstances it should prove much quicker than the usual main corridor.

In complete contrast to where they just were, the seventh floor was almost deserted. In fact, the only other person was a small girl in the distance. As they approached Violet spotted the large tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet opposite the stretch of wall where she knew hid the Room of Requirements.

"Nymphadil?" Violet called, finally catching the face of the young girl before them. The first year froze in her tracks. She didn't speak a word. "Nymphadil, is everything okay?" Violet asked, noticing the girl's twitching hands.