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"I was no one special. Not really. I walked from class to class each day with my head down, clutching my precious books to my chest: the only friends I had in that stone fortress they called a school. I was small–still am–and plain; nothing exciting about my limp blonde hair or dull gray eyes. I had given up on my appearance years before, realizing that it was not worth spending my time in vain attempting to make myself presentable–or, what the world saw as presentable..."
I awoke the next morning to the pattering of rain on the glass dormitory windows, a booming roll of thunder occasionally shaking them. I shivered and pulled the blankets up around my nose at the thought of my bare toes touching the stone floor. The air was damp and cool.
Even after Tom had politely excused himself hours ago, I stayed in the library, surrounded by my dusty, steadfast companions. I used to imagine that they spoke to me, though in a way they did, but kept repeating themselves each time.
"Where did you get that?" His voice was strained. I blinked at him exhaustedly, shifting to a more comfortable position. I noticed an odd glimmer in his eyes as his hands seemed to itch with the need to grasp the rotting wood. His disposition frightened me, and though I unconsciously tried to hide my discoveries from him, I felt my arms move out of their own accord and hold the wand out to him.
The school year was drawing to an end while summer was already upon us. The only thoughts that seemed to be on anyone's minds were those of freedom and an escape from endless work. Eyes wandered and drifted off to gaze out of the thick glass windows instead of concentrating on the blackboard or the notes they were supposed to be writing.
Of Mutterings and Lockets
It was quite mysterious, the locket, unlike any other. The silver was tarnished, hinting of age, its tiny-linked chain equally as such. Its shape was the peculiar part, however. It seemed to be an elongated diamond with its corners rounded as if it were made to hold something in particular. The silver was also studded with jagged fragments of peridot in the center. I longed to know what it contained, but I managed to restrain myself from undoing the clasp and peering inside
Letters Bring Death
On the night of the thirtieth of August, I found myself straddled on the back of Tom's Tinderblast with my eyes clenched shut in fear, my arms clasped tightly around his middle. I could not bring myself to look down at the sleeping muggle town, for I knew it was unnaturally far below us
Whispers and Secrets Revealed
I felt a hot surge of anger well up inside of me as I gazed hostiley at the door. Hunger ebbed at my stomach, pinching and bubbling and clawing it. But I waited, concentrating thoroughly on Rowan, who was lazily preening his feathers. Their golden tips caught what few meager rays of sunlight that had managed to penetrate through the curtains. It took my mind from things, however temporarily.
The Chamber of Secrets
My lips quivered. There was a note of anger in his voice that he had not ever used with me before. But there was also disbelief, and for that, I could not help but feel sickeningly proud. I had caught him, at last. "I f-followed you," I stammered, then added, before he could protest, "I was worried about you, Tom! You should have told me, and I would not have had to!"
A curious reflex caused me to pry my gaze from the ground, and I screamed. An enormous snake had begun to slither through the crack that had soon widened to a crevice. "DO NOT LOOK UP!" he bellowed. I instantaneously averted my eyes and covered them with my hands. I knew what it was.
I Am Lady Teilleen Bellezareph
I wake the next morning to the bitter cold that has greeted me each day since He left. My body feels heavy and it is all that I can do to keep from sinking slowly back into my bed, never to be seen again by anyone in this world. If only I can. But I have not yet completed my tale, so here I must remain.
The Bridge Between Sanity and Madness
"From now on, Danielle, you must never enter the Chamber again. Ever. You heard what It said." He did not meet my gaze. There was something vital that he had left out, and was hiding from me, purposefully elusive.
I longed to see him again, my heart aching more and more as the days passed. But on one of those days, I met someone who could relieve the pain while I was in his presence. A friendly "giant" by the name of Rubeus Hagrid.
Forgiveness and Reasoning
"There is a girl... in the lavatory that contains the entrance to the Chamber... She's dead, Danielle, the Basilisk killed her. She looked into its eyes."
The End of Another Year
Although I was but fifteen, a fickle age for most girls such as I, I understood what it meant to be in love. Yes, I loved him with every fiber of my being. I had thought that the mere attraction that I had felt for him at fourteen was what was described as that strange, new idea. It was nothing in comparison to the emotion that burned deeply in the confines of my chest.
Haunting Words and an Early Birthday Gift
"What do you plan to do once you've finished schooling?" he asked. His hands were consumed by the odorous bubbles. I was sitting near enough that I was frequently spattered by tiny flecks of moisture from his vigorous cleaning. I looked at him, startled.
I described to him what had happened. As I spoke, his expression changed from a pained look to one of fear. "I've got the Sight, Hagrid. A-and I think... I've Seen something I wasn't supposed to..."
I wrenched myself from his grip, choking on the saltiness of my tears. "Do you not understand?!" I sobbed furiously, briefly biting down upon the inside of my cheek. "It's because I love you, Tom!"
Warning and Conflict
"Somethin's diff'ren' 'bout yeh, Danielle. Riddle hasn' done summat ter yeh, 'as 'e?" He gazed at me curiously through a wild mass of hair and tiny, beetle-like eyes. I stiffened, though I was unsure why I had done so. "Ah, well–about Tom. We're engaged." It felt as if an immense weight had been liften from my chest as I said it, so relieved did I feel that someone at last knew. But it would not last.
The Forgotten Memory
I sigh, seeming to slip once more into the mind of my sixteen-years-of-age self. I close my eyes and strain to remember, my weakened heart thudding dully in my ears. I wish nothing more than to disappear and become lost in my past, though it nearly feels as if I am. Albus, I know, has sensed the change, and yet he does not realize why I have done so. And thus, he is curt, tiring of my newly-found charade.
When The Sky Falls
"The rain," he gestured to the sky above, " was not due to arrive until tomorrow. Remember this, Danielle Parmellie. The stars have not been known to often deceive us. Let us hope their meaning can be changed."
The Bridge Crossed
At some point in the duration of three seconds, I had managed to clamp my eyes firmly shut, and when the cold, constricting rush suddenly ceased, and I opened them once more, I found that I could do nothing more than stare. We were in a cave of sorts, damp and chilled, and the ceilings dripped in a dull, methodic fashion. To one side, I could hear the gentle lapping of water against the rocks, though at that moment, I had not yet realized it was from the ocean.
The Severed Core
I buffeted the opening with a multitude of spell, jynxes, and curses; all for naught, as everything remained the same. At first, I began to doubt my abilities and perceptiveness as a witch. Then, the thought that perhaps Tom had invented something crept slowly into my mind. As we had grown close, I had discovered his brilliance; brilliance that could be countered by none but Professor Dumbledore at Hogwarts. My own wit fell short, for it could only go so long ere it failed.
Halloween passed, as did the Thanksgiving I had celebrated in America some years before. Autumn led to winter, bringing Christmas with its many flurries of snow. The castle was bedecked festively with garlands, fairies, and miseltoe, and the corridors echoed with many a carol sung by the students and ghosts. Tom and I were to stay for the holidays as we had always done, though there was but one difference in our usual routine. That year, we were obliged to attend a Christmas party, hosted by the Potions Master, Professor Slughorn.
Summer of Silence
He did not seem surprised, though I supposed my mind had become entirely too predictable to him then. Though our marriage was to be a year from then, I could not help but think of it. Perhaps the summer air and Tom’s visit with Mr. Burke had started these thoughts, snapping me into the reality of the fact that I would be a wife, and Tom my husband. At times, I wondered if I could stand the wait.
Then and Now
Momentarily, I felt stunned. What was to become of me after my life at the castle? I would be married, and that was the extent of my knowledge. A part of me would never wish to leave the place I had home to call my home for the majority of the past six years of my life. I once toyed with the idea of remaining behind as a teacher, but I quickly banished the thought. I felt that I was too young to hold such a position, and almost that Tom would not approve of it. How wrong I was in this latter thought.
That Which September Brings
The moment the hat fell silent, the Great Hall erupted in whispers, befuddled and nervous. I glanced at the Slytherin table, searching for Tom. When I found him, he looked up, and our eyes briefly locked. Though we never discussed it between us, even after we had exited the room, we both knew somehow that the song had indirectly been meant for us.
Echoes of Envy
My emotions were changing quickly then, and I felt each one wrack through me. My mind knew precisely where I was headed, yet I was detached from it, and felt not the movement of my feet as they carried me to the Headmaster’s office. I heard myself inquire Professor Dippet of the password to the Slytherin dungeons, heard myself supply a reason for my query. I watched as I left without thanking him and sped away down a maze of stairways and corridors until I was well beneath the main parts of the school.
The weeks had begun to pass, and I had been swallowed up by my schooling as I had been in years before. And I found myself also stealing into Tom’s dormitory whenever a possible moment to do so presented itself. I never questioned what seemed to be sheer coincidence, in that it was always empty, even when I had not yet informed Tom of my intentions. Once again, yet ever so slowly, I began to sense the connection between our minds.
Once Upon a December
I look at Albus squarely. “It was then that all doubts were obliterated from my mind, even those that might have attempted to linger, hesitant to leave. Perhaps this was selfish of me, for I had decided that whatever it was that Tom chose to do, it did not matter. He cared for me, and at the time I thought of nothing further. I decided to not stand before him and slow the progress of his plans. Perhaps this is the greatest mistake I have ever made. Intelligence is only valuable and worthwhile if one uses it.”
At first, worry clenched at my stomach, for I could not suppress the thought that perhaps Tom was somehow involved. Would he strive even for the assassination of a teacher? And if so, what circumstances had surrounded such a horrible act?
The Secret Society of Slytherins
This time, it is I who interrupts my tale as I pause, remembering. “I do not believe,” I say, “that I mentioned before what it was that I did to the diary I found and gave to Tom so many years ago.”
The Other Chamber
Later, I could not explain what prompted me to walk the seventh floor corridors that day, or why I paused before a particular—and foolish-looking—tapestry. Yet I did so all the same, my fingers idly fidgeting with the sleeves of my robes. I was restless, as my free period had only just begun, and for once I wanted nothing more than for it to end.
The Passage of Time
And then it was May. Each passing month had become redundant, for they always slipped by unnoticed by my eyes. I had always looked to Tom to slow time for me, casting an anchor to fit both of our grasps. Yet now we were both like leaves upon the surface of a pond, and he was gliding along beside me leaving no ripples behind.
The Beginning of the End
"You are so good to me," I murmured, so quietly that he could not hear to reply. Or perhaps he simply wished not to argue, but not to disagree as well. In that small slice in the grand scheme of time, it did not matter that there were occasions in the past where my statement would have been horrendously false.
Silent Wedding Bells
Rain drummed against the roof the morning of our wedding. I sat upon the edge of my bed in the flat which was serving as our temporary home; I was waiting for the time to pass. In hours Tom and I would be wed, yet even the seconds dragged on, days within themselves, and so it felt as though the moment would never arrive.
Over the course of the first month, I wandered the streets of both Knockturn and Diagon Alley. I enjoyed the latter for its brightness and familiarity; though it was never brimming with people as it was at the end of each August, the shops were always the same. And at times, I preferred the quiet. However, Knockturn Alley was then my home, and so I felt obligated to become as familiar with it as its cheerful counterpart.
Keeper and Thief of Time
As the season progressed, I graduated from my apprenticeship to Griselda Marchbanks and became an Unspeakable, full-fledged, just as she had once predicted. From then on, I was asked to do things unimaginable—unimaginable even if they had been expected. Nearly at once, I realized that there was an enormous amount of information being kept from the wizarding public, and more often than not with good reasoning behind it.
It was when I began to pull a glass from the cupboard that there came an enormous rush of air from behind me. Quickly, I turned, and the glass slipped from my touch and shattered as it hit the floor. However, I ignored this, nearly stepping upon the broken pieces. I was more concerned with whatever it was that had suddenly entered my home.
Riddles in the Dark
This thought seemed to strike a fire within my being, and it was unexplainable, for I had never entirely approved of his methods and morals. Yet what if he had done as much to secure my hand as he had his father's house? Had he wished to have me so badly that he had manipulated all obstacles away from us to pull me into oblivion? And was I touched by this? By the flames licking at my heart, stirring emotion and burning disapproval, I knew that I was.
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