Chapter Text
August 2014
CONTRARY TO POPULAR BELIEF, MAYA RAJESH loves mornings.
It's not that waking up early doesn't irritate her - on the contrary, it's one of her biggest pet peeves to have to wake up to the sound of an annoying alarm. It's the atmosphere which she likes. The soft sounds of traffic outside - sounds that don't even faze her after five years of living in New York - are what coax Maya out of her heavy slumber, clumsy hands fumbling at her nightstand as she gropes around for her glasses.
She supposes it's the calmness she likes, the brief period of quiet before the chaos of yet another busy day. A soft silence settles over the room as she slowly gets out of bed, tying her tangled hair into a bun. No one's really awake yet, at this time of day, except her and maybe her mom. It gives her a chance to recuperate, to mentally prepare herself before diving back into her day yet again. Maya straightens her pajamas quickly -which are one size too small and an embarrassing shade of pink - hating the way they've bunched up around her body from tossing and turning during her dreams.
Today is different, from the rest of the peaceful summer mornings that have transpired like this. It's her last day in New York before she heads off to England for the summer, as preparation for the year she's going to start at Hogwarts. The Weasleys have graciously agreed to take her in - old friends from when her parents used to live in the UK - for the remaining two weeks, three days of which will be spent at the Quidditch world cup. Maya isn't fully okay with this plan, obviously. She'd rather stay in New York with Alec, Izzy and the gang, but what can you do when your mother has the superpower of being able to guilt you into doing anything?
Halfway through when she's changing her clothes - into her favorite white-t-shirt and jeans with red converse - , a yeasty, sort of sweet smell wafts in from the kitchen, immediately making her look up from when she's tying her shoelaces. Maya frowns, as she wonders what it possibly might be. Her mother clearly doesn't have time to bake anymore, considering demon-hunting takes up most of her energy, and she rarely buys baked goods from outside. It's not like Nandini starves her daughter - in fact, she sometimes has to force Maya to eat when she accidentally skips a meal - neither of them really want to bake or buy things nowadays, since they're both so busy.
Maya quickly ties her hair into a ponytail, as she walks down to the kitchen. The sight that greets her is a welcome surprise - Nandini chatting with Magnus over a cup of chai, his green eyes lined with their usual splash of flamboyant gold eyeliner. His face stretches into a smile as he catches sight of the young girl, more dressed up than usual in her bright attire. Nandini looks at Maya with a stretch of pity, wondering what exactly she's putting her daughter through by sending her to Hogwarts.
"Look at you!" he gestures, proudly, "All dressed up for your last day in New York"
"It's not my last" corrects Maya, frowning, "I'll still be able to come home for summer"
"Still, none of us will be seeing you for a while"
"Not much today either," corrects Nandini, wryly,"The Lightwoods have her booked all day."
"Please tell me you'll be home by eight" interjects Magnus, an almost pained look on his face, "I finally managed to make dinner reservations at La Maison"
"The place with the amazing canapes and truffle dip?" questions Maya, excitedly. She's been wanting to go there forever, with her friends, but the reservations are very strict, and there's no way they'll let a bunch of teenagers in without prior notice.
"The very same. Your friends are welcome, but please, tell Alexander to wear something other than black" replies Nandini, expression downcast, "Half the time, he looks like he's attending a funeral"
Probably because he's been in the closet for the last five years.
"Are those....blueberry scones?" she questions, changing the subject to the basket of baked goods lying next to her mother.
"Catarina's" replies Magnus, taking one and sighing with pleasure as he bites into it, "I swear to Raziel, they get better with each batch"
"Agreed," she replies, as the sweet doughiness dissolves on her tongue. Nandini shakes her head at the duo, not even grimacing as she takes a sip from her cup of black coffee - her signature drink for every morning.
"I don't know how you can even stomach eating those" she says, to the two of them, "Full of sugar and whatnot-"
"Who hurt you?" asks Magnus, pointedly, sound slightly muffled by the piece of scone in his mouth.
"No one," replies Nandini, now scowling.
"You have no soul" Maya tries to state, pointedly, but due to the considerable amount of dough in her mouth, the words come out garbled, as she swallows, "I mean, how can someone not like scones?"
"Are we really having this discussion right now?"
"You started it by insulting perfectly good scones!"
"Magnus, are you siding with my thirteen-year-old daughter?"
"Who is almost fourteen, for your kind information!"
"I only side with the winners, Nandini"
"Traitor"
"Says the woman who passed out from two drinks, after promising to be my wing woman at the Hunter's Moon"
"That was one time!!!"
"Suuure..."
Maya rolls her eyes, sliding off of the barstool as she grabs her phone off of the counter.
"I have to go, anyway" she replies, nonchalantly, "Izzy will kill me if I'm not at the train station by -"
She checks her watch.
"Fifteen minutes ago - crap, I'm late!"
"Seven-thirty!" reminds Nandini, as Maya's about to rush out the door, a warning look in her eyes, "You can't go to La Maison in that"
Maya rolls her eyes, forcing down a sarcastic retort to appease her mother.
"Wouldn't dream of it, mumsie"
Nandini sighs as Maya leaves, the door accidentally slamming shut behind her. Magnus waits until she's well out of earshot to drop his smile, replaced with a grim look that cuts straight to the bone.
"How long are you going to hide this from her, Nandini?" he quips, placing his chai mug on the counter as he crosses his arms over his chest.
Her facade falls, grip tightening on her mug as a pensive expression appears on her face. Nandini's jade-colored eyes lock with Magnus's, the amount of ferocity in them frightening.
"As long as I bloody well can"
"She needs to know"
"What? That her father is a demon? Not like she hasn't figured it out already"
"You know damn well what will happen if you don't tell her the truth soon"
"She's thirteen. Let her be a kid, for once"
"The longer you hide it, the easier it'll be for him to get closer"
"Don't you think I know that?"
"You're clearly not realizing the consequences. She leaves tomorrow."
"Hogwarts is safe. He can't harm her if she has the amulet"
"Nowhere is safe unless she knows that her life is in danger. Letting her roam around New York, with the Lightwoods no less, it's a miracle she hasn't been kidnapped yet, or taken to-"
"What do you want me to do? Lock her in the house, make her repeat protective charms and spells - which she's already learned from you - shut her away from the world? Maya deserves her independence-"
"That's not what I meant-"
"She deserves a normal life, Magnus, like anyone else on this goddamn planet. That's what I'm trying to give her"
"You have to let her go, she's old enough, she'll understand-"
"No! I don't care about what's going to happen or what he'll do to me. I am not putting her in danger at any cost"
"End of discussion"
The swishing sound of skates on ice fill the cavernous room, carving circular patterns as the four of them glide across the floor. Maya laughs as Alec grips onto her for dear life, stumbling as his sister supports him on the other side. His face is red, short puffs of air escaping his throat as he stumbles along the ice, his parabatai not far behind.
"I - hate - you - all"
Both Maya and Isabelle burst into laughter at this, as the three of them finally reach the railing. Alec's cobalt eyes glare daggers at the two of them, wanting to cross his arms over his chest but holding onto the metal behind him for dear life.
"It's summer. Who comes to an ice-skating rink during summer?"
"Us" replies Isabelle, a hint of a smile gracing her features. Standing together like this, the three of them almost look like cousins - they're probably related on some level, considering the fact that Nandini comes from pure Shadowhunter lineage - with the same dark hair and blue eyes, though they're of different shades. The four of them (including Jace) are practically family, having grown up together since they were little kids.
Maya can't remember much of her life before moving to New York, the defining features of her existence having started right here in the. The few memories that she can recall are hazy, filled with blurry landscapes of the rolling British countryside, the weather muggy and cloud-filled. Her father also appears in some of them, laughing as he pushes her four-year-old self on the swing set.
She can barely remember what it was like to be with him.
Maya and her mother have always been a matching set, firmly locked together with a mixture of love and family bonds. They've been on their own for a while, almost ten years, in fact. She gets most of her features from Nandini - pitch-black hair, skinny, small build, high cheekbones, delicate facial structure. But her eyes are the one thing that set her apart from the rest of her family ; dark, dark blue, studded with silver flecks around the iris.
Eyes that look nothing like either of her parents.
She knows that he isn't her real father - simply a kind man who raised her as his own daughter. There are pictures of him all over the house, a tall, handsome man in a maroon sherwani on his wedding day, joined by her mother in a regal red saree. But Maya can't replace his position with anyone else in her mind, even if the memories she has of him are far and few between. Arjun will forever hold a place in her heart, a scar that's never really healed in the nine years that have passed since his death.
Nandini has never told her who her actual father was, only mentioned that he was a demon whom had been part of a one-night stand before her wedding. Maya has never questioned it, but she's always been a little suspicious of how tight-lipped her mother has been about the secret. She's brushed off her daughter's questions before, saying that she herself didn't know the name of the man in question. But curiosity has gotten the better of her over the years, making Maya's mind run in circles over the possibilities.
Not that she's ever voiced it out loud.
Alec and Izzy are the only people who she'd ever trust with something like that. It's not that she has something against Jace - they get along pretty well, actually - it's because of his slight prejudice towards downworlders, people with demon blood in their veins. Though he's never treated her differently because of it - she doesn't know why - Maya is scared to tell him the truth, that she's more of an abomination that people make her out to be.
That every horrible word the clave has said about her is true.
"Mini? You there?"
Maya immediately snaps back to reality, shaking her head to rid herself of the waterlogged feeling that's always there whenever she goes deep into thought. Izzy looks at her quizzically, as she returns to her usual demeanor, rolling her eyes at the embarrassing nickname that's been bestowed upon her due to her small size. Alec is unfazed, used to her moments of suddenly spacing out. The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, as a familiar sight graces the three of them.
Jace is leaning against the railing on the other side, his dark blond hair pushed back with what suspiciously looks to be a shit ton of hair mouse. He appears to be chatting up a curvy brunette, her mouth in a maroon-lipsticked scowl. She looks to be exactly his type - dark, tall, intimidating, the kind of girl people would avoid on the street.
The three of them hush their laughter, quietly skating closer to watch the scene unfold. It proves difficult, since Alec has the clumsiness of a drunken troll on skates, but they manage to make it in time.
".....did you fall from heaven? Because you have the face of an angel"
"Classic" mutters Isabelle, rolling her eyes as Maya snickers, "I've heard him use that one about twenty times"
"Wait for it...." mutters Alec, as the three of them huddle closer together, trying to control their laughter.
"No, I crawled my way out from hell" replies the girl, scowl deepening.
Jace falters for a moment, before the lazy smirk comes back onto his face.
"Explains why you're so damn hot"
"Damn" whispers Maya, a low whistle escaping her lips, "You've got to admit it, he's smooth"
"The fact that Jace has had five girlfriends in a year bamboozles me" replies Alec, as the two girls give him a knowing look.
"What?" he questions, shrugging with feigned innocence.
"You're hopeless, Alec" states Maya, pointedly, turning back to watch the scene in front of them.
Isabelle doesn't let go of the topic, looking at her brother with a crestfallen expression on her face. Both of them know the real reason Alec's so abraisive towards Jace's relationships - it's the fact that he's in love with the boy himself. Both Maya and him have tried numerous times to get him to admit it, but he refuses.
And weirdly, Maya gets it.
If she was in his place, she wouldn't want to say it either.
"Guys, look"
The brunette girl rolls her eyes, as Jace is in the middle of another one of his "romantic" monologues. Without warning, she flings her hot chocolate directly onto his white t-shirt, the remnants of the scalding liquid steaming out from the paper cup.
"Here's a warning," she hisses, baring her teeth at a very shocked Jace, "Next time, take a hint, chump"
All of them burst into laughter the moment she left, Isabelle and Maya clutching onto each other for dear life as Alec bends over the railing in hysterics. Jace glares daggers at them, crossing his arms over his chest in an effort to cover the hot chocolate stain on his shirt.
"Man, rejection is so much more fun when it's happening to you" Maya finally manages to gasp out, as Jace rolls his eyes.
"Says the girl who's never had a boyfriend"
"You know how my mom is-"
"Why do I have a feeling that you'll start dating as soon as you get to - what's it called again, Hogwash?"
"Hogwarts"
"Yeah, right, that place."
"Ew, I have better things to do"
"Sure, like I didn't see that your search history was full of "Leonardo Dicaprio" "
"I'm human, Jace, not frigid"
Isabelle snorted at this, patting Maya on the head, as the younger girl glared up at her.
"You'll feel differently once you get there, I'm sure"
"Yeah, right. Like I'll be mooning over some boy"
"Please, she'd scare him off with one look"
"Exactly"
Maya smirks as Isabelle rolls her eyes, slinging an arm over her shoulder as they skate to the gate.
"How about we go get a milkshake at Eddie's to cure Jace's broken heart?"
"Shut up!"
Before Maya knows it, the day is over, the dark hues of dusk settling down on New York city. Isabelle forced her to change, into a simple, sleeveless dark blue dress that falls to her knees, with nude kitten heels. She walks into the restaurant alone, after a grim goodbye with her friends (which was short, considering they're planning to send her off in the morning). Her hair is curled, by Izzy of course, due to the Shadowhunter's insistence that she needed to "dress for the occasion".
If anything, Maya feels overdressed.
In a short while, she spots Magnus and Nandini sitting at a circular table in the corner, sipping white wine from thin-stemmed glasses. Her mother gives her a pointed look, about to admonish her for her lack of punctuality, but she falls short as her eyes catch Maya in her dress, an approving smile curving it's way across her face instead.
"I suppose this is Isabelle's work?" quips Nandini, softly, placing a gentle kiss on Maya's forehead, as a hint of a smile appears on her face.
"She wanted me to look like a decent human being"
"I disagree," states Magnus, smacking his lips as he took another sip of wine, "You look beautiful, muffin, as always"
"That's because of my genes" replies Nandini, proudly, as the warlock rolls his eyes.
"Suure..."
"Oh my god, Mina, get back here-"
Maya's face breaks out into a smile, as a tiny girl in a pink dress toddles over to her, reaching her chubby arms up so she can be lifted into Maya's lap.
"You didn't tell me Tessa was coming!" she replies, exactly the moment where a pretty woman in her twenties runs over to the table, purse swinging violently on her elbow.
"Well" replies the panting woman in question, brushing the nonexistent dust off of her pale blue dress, "It was supposed to be a surprise, but uh - that one there - " she points to Mina, "decided to pour the milk into the sink when we were about to leave"
"Dum-dum told me to!"
"This imaginary friend thing is getting completely out of hand, " replied Tessa, exasperated, as Maya laughs, shooting her a warning look, "It's not funny! - She once put my hairpins into the microwave because of the exact same reason!"
"I thought they were marshmawows!"
"Why would you think that, sweetie?"
"Because Mommy said that marshmawows go black once they're roasted!"
"If they were already roasted, why would you put them in the microwave?"
"Because Magnus told me to have high standwawds"
All eyes immediately flit to the warlock in question, who freezes midway through taking another sip from his glass.
"Don't look at me"
"One of these days..." mutters Tessa, giving Magnus a disapproving look as he rolls his eyes.
"Can you believe how grown up she is?" he states, gesturing to Maya, who blushes, "It feels like just yesterday, she was walking around with that old blanket - what did she call it?"
"George" corrects Maya, a little embarrassed at her childhood "companion" - a threadbare blanket that had once belonged to her father - Arjun, of course.
"Ahh yes," continues Nandini, fondly reminiscing on old memories, "She used to want to hear stories about my missions all the time - the kid-friendly ones, of course"
"Yeah, now I know the real ones" replies Maya, looking surprised at her mother's affronted look, "What? Maryse told me everything"
"And I wonder why you hang around with the Lightwoods so much"
"Especially Jace" states Tessa, suggestively wiggling her eyebrows as she takes a sip of her water, "You'd think there was something going on between you two, the way you act around each other"
Both Nandini and Maya choke on their respective drinks at the same time, as Magnus's eyes widen. Nandini tries to speak first, opening her mouth in indignation, but her daughter beats her to it.
"Ew! He's like my brother!" she groans, insides already squirming in disgust at the thought of dating Jace.
"Besides, she's too young for a boyfriend" Nandini finishes, shooting her daughter a pointed look as Maya rolls her eyes.
"You never know with them at this age" replied Tessa, mystically, "Once she gets to puberty, though, that's when all hell breaks loose"
"Oh my god-"
"Ugh, don't remind me" replied Magnus, lip curling in distaste, "They're so disagreeable when they get to that age"
"Stubborn"
"Rebellious"
"Noisy"
Maya rolls her eyes, as the adults around her immerse into conversation. Though they're mildly insulting her (or at least her future self), she fights a rueful smile as she looks down at the toddler in her lap, beaming up at her with a confused look.
"You going to miss me Mina?" she asks, softly, the child giggling as Maya gently boops her on the nose with her pointer finger.
"Nuh-uh!" replies Mina, laughing as Maya fakes a sad look.
"Really?"
"Okay, maybe a wittle bit..."
And for a moment, she genuinely feels at home.
Chapter Text
August 2014
TWO DAYS LATER, MAYA IS BOTH CONFUSED AND INTRIGUED at the sight in front of her.
Her mother is holding the map in utter confusion, the yellowed edges of the parchment contrasting greatly with her crimson-painted nails. It's a little after seven in the evening, the time where the sky is streaked with beautiful hues of pink and gold with strips of white clouds floating here and there. The sight is ethereal, majestic, an idyllic backdrop of the English countryside.
"Mom, are you sure we're in the right place?" Maya asks, apprehensively looking at the house - if she can even call it that.
"That's what these directions say" replies Nandini, frowning, "Wait, let me try Google Maps-"
"There's no signal out here"
"Oh, hush"
Maya sighs, knowing that her mother's mind clearly isn't in any discernible place on the earth at this very moment. Nandini has been oddly distracted ever since they arrived in London, the day before yesterday, barely speaking to her only daughter for a reason she can't even begin to imagine. She knows it's probably just separation anxiety, that her mother is preparing herself for not being able to see Maya for nine months.
But some deep instinct tells her that there's more to it.
The structure in front of her is quite....bizarre, to say the least. It looks like someone has stacked two different houses on top of each other, with little to no support from the ground. Rooms are haphazardly jammed in between the slats, made of vastly different materials. It reminds of her of a patchwork quilt, mismatched yet oddly comforting. Warm light spills from the inside, the smell of baking bread drifting out towards them. A shabby pair of boots lay haphazardly next to the door, followed by a trail of feathers that indicate the presence of domesticied chicken nearby. It fills Maya with a sort of longing, a brief happiness at seeing a house look so much like home.
Though she bets that Magnus would be horrified if he saw the architecture.
Her thoughts are abruptly cut short, as a plump, red-haired woman makes her way out the door, her face lighting up the moment she catches sight of the two clueless young women standing in the grassy field.
"Nandini!" she replies, rushing over to her mother with open arms, "It's been far too long!"
"Bloody hell, Molly, it has" states her mother, sweetly, as the two older women embrace, "How're Arthur and the kids?"
"They're a riot, as usual. Arthur's in Surrey to pick up Ha-"
A crash resounds from inside.
"And they're back" finishes Molly, tutting in disapproval as the faint sound of voices start to resound from the house.
When they walk in, two teenagers are congregated around the fireplace, chattering excitedly, along with a skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy with a lighting-shaped scar on the side of his forehead.
"..Did he eat it?" asks one of the tall ones, animatedly, a devious grin spreading over his freckled face.
"Yeah" replies the black-haired boy, straightening up, "What was it?"
"Ton-tongue toffee. George and I invented them, and we've been looking for someone to test them on all summer...."
The tiny kitchen explodes with laughter, mainly from the four boys sitting at the fresh-scrubbed kitchen table.
"How're you doing, Harry?" says one of them, standing up and extending his hand. His face is broad and good-natured, which is weather beaten and so freckly that it almost looks tanned - with muscular, well-built arms, one with a large, shiny burn on it.
Wait...Harry?
Everything suddenly starts to make sense in Maya's head - wild, messy hair, emerald green eyes, nervous demeanor, glasses and lightning-shaped scar.
Oh my god, that's Harry freaking Potter.
Before she can have time to process this, however, all eyes are on her, the Weasleys finally having noticed that she's in the room. Molly is the first to react, an embarrassed flush on her cheeks at the half-alarmed, half-curious expression on Maya's face.
She doesn't blame her.
Any sane person would fear for her sons's sanity if they heard this conversation completely out of context.
"I'm so sorry, dear, I almost forgot!" she exclaims stepping forward to pull Maya into an unexpected hug, "Have you eaten lunch yet? There's soup on the stove, it'll be ready in just a bit!"
"It's fine, Mrs. Weasley, and thank you" replies Maya, politely, the woman's eyes lighting up at the young girl's shyness.
"Boys, this is Maya," she states, as the Weasleys at the table snap back to her, "She'll be staying with us for the remainder of the summer, and I expect you to be on your best behavior around her-"
"Mum, you're acting like we're vicious dragons-"
"Considering what just came out of George's mouth, I'm surprised she hasn't run for the hills yet-"
"Trust me, my friends have said weirder things before" replies Maya, quickly, a blush forming on her cheeks as she tries to ease the tension.
Easy laughter breaks throughout the room, specifically from one of the younger boys sitting at the table. He looks to be about her age, tall and lanky, with violently ginger hair and a smattering of freckles across his nose.
"I'm Ron" he offers, introducing himself as Maya smiles softly, "You're from New York?"
"Queens" she clarifies, as a curious expression breaks out onto his face.
"That's where the Institute is, right?"
"No, it's all the way in Manhattan-"
Before Maya can continue their conversation, two more people step out of the fire, which glows green from floor powder. The older man, probably in his 30s or 40s, brushes the dust off of his coat, a furious expression onto his face as the boy next to him gives him a sheepish look.
"That wasn't funny, Fred!" he shouts, visibly irritated, "What on earth did you give that Muggle boy?"
"I didn't give him anything," replies the boy in question, a devious grin coating his face, "I just dropped it......It was his fault that he went and ate it, I never told him to"
"You dropped it on purpose!" roars the man, who Maya now guesses is probably Mr. Weasley, "You knew he'd eat it, You knew he was on a diet-"
"How big did his tongue get?" asks George, eagerly who she thinks is Fred's twin.
"It was four feet long before his parents would let me shrink it!"
Everyone bursts into laughter again, even Maya, who has absolutely no clue what's going on.
"It isn't funny!" shouts Mr. Weasley, "“That sort of behavior seriously undermines wizard–Muggle relations! I spend half my life campaigning against the mistreatment of Muggles, and my own sons —”
“We didn’t give it to him because he’s a Muggle!” says Fred indignantly.
“No, we gave it to him because he’s a great bullying git,” replies George, scowling. “Isn’t he, Harry?”
“Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley,” says Harry earnestly.
“That’s not the point!” rages Mr. Weasley. “You wait until I tell your mother —”
“Tell me what?” says a voice behind them
Maya turns to find Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway, an expression of pure suspicion on her previously kind face. Along with her are two girls, one of whom has incredibly bushy hair and rather large front teeth. A ginormous ginger cat is perched in her arms, face rather flattened, as though it's run straight into a brick wall. The other one is rather small and redheaded, just about her height. She blushes quite adorably as Harry returns their previous smiles, which makes Maya suspect a beginning of a possible crush.
Not that it's any of her business.
“Tell me what, Arthur?” Mrs. Weasley repeats, in a dangerous sort of voice, one that she's only ever heard her mother use in absolute fury.
“It’s nothing, Molly,” mumbles Mr. Weasley, clearly very intimidated by his wife, “Fred and George just — but I’ve had words with them —”
“What have they done this time?” says Mrs. Weasley.
“If it’s got anything to do with Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes —”
“Why don’t you show Harry where he’s sleeping, Ron?” says the bushy-haired girl, from the doorway, clearly trying to diffuse the tension.
“He knows where he’s sleeping,” says Ron, “in my room, he slept there last —”
"Ginny, why don't you show Maya where she's sleeping?" asks Mrs. Weasley, pointedly, as the girls finally notice she's in the room. They exchange polite smiles.
"Hi, I'm Hermione"
"Ginny"
"Maya - wait, you already knew that"
Nervous laughter ensues, none of them knowing what to do to calm down the daggers that are currently spewing from Mrs. Weasley's eyes.
“We can all go,” says Hermione pointedly.
“Oh,” says Ron, finally taking the hint. “Right.”
“Yeah, we’ll come too,” said George.
“You stay where you are!” snarled Mrs. Weasley
Harry and Ron edge out of the kitchen, and they, Hermione, Ginny and Maya set off along the narrow hallway and up the rickety staircase that zigzaggs through the house to the upper stories
. “What are Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes?” asks Maya, confused, as they climb.
Ron and Ginny both laugh, although Hermione doesn't.
“Mum found this stack of order forms when she was cleaning Fred and George’s room,” says Ron quietly. “Great long price lists for stuff they’ve invented. Joke stuff, you know. Fake wands and trick sweets, loads of stuff. It was brilliant, I never knew they’d been inventing all that . . .”
"Wow..." replies Maya, a little shocked at what the Weasley twins get up to in their spare time.
Her mother would murder her if she ever tried something like that.
“We’ve been hearing explosions out of their room for ages, but we never thought they were actually making things,” says Ginny, sheepishly. “We thought they just liked the noise.”
“Only, most of the stuff — well, all of it, really — was a bit dangerous,” says Ron, “and, you know, they were planning to sell it at Hogwarts to make some money, and Mum went mad at them. Told them they weren’t allowed to make any more of it, and burned all the order forms. . . . She’s furious at them anyway. They didn’t get as many O.W.L.s as she expected.”
O.W.L.s, to Maya's understanding, stand for Ordinary Wizarding Levels, the examinations Hogwarts students take at the age of fifteen. She, thankfully, is exempt from them for another year, being only thirteen, the youngest student in her year.
“And then there was this big row,” Ginny continues, “because Mum wants them to go into the Ministry of Magic like Dad, and they told her all they want to do is open a joke shop.”
Just then a door on the second landing opens, and a face pokes, out wearing horn-rimmed glasses and a very annoyed expression.
“Hi, Percy,” says Harry, warily.
“Oh hello, Harry, Maya” says Percy, nodding briefly in her direction . “I was wondering who was making all the noise. I’m trying to work in here, you know — I’ve got a report to finish for the office — and it’s rather difficult to concentrate when people keep thundering up and down the stairs.”
“We’re not thundering,” says Ron irritably. “We’re walking. Sorry if we’ve disturbed the top-secret workings of the Ministry of Magic.”
“What are you working on?” says Harry, curiously.
“A report for the Department of International Magical Cooperation,” replies Percy, smugly. “We’re trying to standardize cauldron thickness. Some of these foreign imports are just a shade too thin — leakages have been increasing at a rate of almost three percent a year —”
“That’ll change the world, that report will,” says Ron, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Front page of the Daily Prophet, I expect, cauldron leaks.”
Percy goes slightly pink.
“You might sneer, Ron,” he says, heatedly, “but unless some sort of international law is imposed we might well find the market flooded with flimsy, shallow-bottomed products that seriously endanger —”
“Yeah, yeah, all right,” says Ron, rolling his eyes and he starts off upstairs again. Percy slams his bedroom door shut. As Harry follows Ron up three more flights of stairs, shouts from the kitchen below echo up to them. It sounds as though Mr. Weasley has told Mrs. Weasley about the toffees.
This surely has been interesting so far.
"C'mon" gestures Ginny, leading Hermione and Maya towards the landing. She opens the door to another room, the ceiling slanting towards the chimney. Two beds lay in the centre, the dresser leaning against the faded, daisy-patterned wallpaper, piled with books and assorted posters. A spare cot lays in the middle, piled with pillows and mismatched blankets.
It's not home, but it certainly feels comfortable.
Suddenly, staying with the Weasleys suddenly doesn't seem like that bad of an idea.
"What's that in your pocket?" asks Hermione, suddenly curious.
Maya is confused at first, but she soon picks up on the hint as Hermione's eyes flit to the metal rod in the back pocket of her jeans. She slowly takes it out, admiring the runes etched onto the beautiful adamas.
"It's a stele" she explains, lightly turning it over in her hands, "I use it to draw runes"
"Your mother is a Shadowhunter, right?" questions Ginny, lightly. Maya can tell that both of them are genuinely interested, not in a prying way, but in an "oh my god that's so cool" way.
Who is she to deny them?
"Yeah," replies Maya, with a proud smile, sitting down on the bed, "She's head of Defense at the Institute"
"If you don't mind me asking, why don't you have any runes?" questions Hermione, brown eyes casting over Maya's little exposed skin.
Maya's breath catches in her throat, as the question persists in the air. These people are dangerously close, close to the secret that she's been forced to hide.
The secret that's forced her to run all her life.
She decides to give them the short version of the story.
"I'm only half nephilim," she explains, "Well, not exactly half - I think it's more complicated than that, actually - but the short version is that I never knew my father. My biological father, I mean. My adoptive dad passed away when I was four. Anyway, um, I have demon blood, and the way it reacts and functions with my body means that I can't draw runes - on myself, - they just...disappear."
To demonstrate, she draws an agility rune on her wrist, the sting not even bothering her anymore. It's the most basic one she can think of, taught in primary school for budding Shadowhunters. It glows on her skin for a brief moment, the dancing gold glitter lighting up the room, before fading away, leaving no trace of the markings that were once on her skin.
"Bloody hell" whispers Ginny, shock and awe laced into her voice at the same time, "You really are something, eh?"
"Apparently," replies Maya, lightly, causing the redhead to laugh.
"I can't believe I've never heard of this before!," exclaims Hermione, curiously, as Maya resists the urge to roll her eyes, "Are there others like you?"
"Not that I know of" she replies, uneasily, deciding not to reveal Tessa's identity.
The last thing the poor woman needs is scrutiny from the wizarding world.
"What's your body count?" asks Ginny, nonchalantly, like the question is what she ate for breakfast.
If Maya was drinking water, she would've spit it out immediately.
Hermione shoots her an alarmed look, as Maya clears her throat, fidgeting with her top before answering.
"Two spiders"
There's an awkward silence for a minute, before they realize that Maya's joking. Easy, relieved laughs erupt from all of them, the start of a robust friendship blooming in the moonlit sky.
"Relax, I'm not allowed to go on missions....thanks to my mum. She's never really wanted me involved in that side of our lives" replies Maya, a teasing smile on her face, "However, the moment I turn sixteen-"
"You'll set the world on fire" finishes Ginny.
She has absolutely no idea what she's talking about.
Or how true her words will become.
It feels like she's just closed her eyes, when Mrs. Weasley gently shakes her awake.
"Time to get up, dear" she coaxes, softly, as Maya resists the urge to groan, sitting up and stretching out her back with a sigh.
It's still dark out, as they all get dressed, not even talking, the silence punctuated with yawns and sighs. Maya grabs the first clothes she can find - a pair of black jeans and a dark green crop top that Isabelle bought her in secrecy. She laces up her signature converse clumsily, not even sweeping her hair out of her eyes so she can see.
Jet lag really has decided to kick her arse today.
Maya plays with the end of her braid as they all walk down into the kitchen, Ginny almost slamming directly into her with grogginess.. Her quick reflexes thankfully save her from being crushed to a pulp by a treacherous fall from the steep stairs.
"M'sorry," grumbles the redhead, rubbing her eyes with sheer exhaustion, "Just so...tired"
"It's fine," she replies, stretching out yet again (there are numerous knots in her back from tossing and turning the entire night), "I'm not much of a morning person either"
Hermione, however, is the most chipper out of the three of them, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Maya and Ginny look at her suspiciously, with narrowed eyes and skepticism, wondering exactly how much coffee she's had to make her so unnaturally chipper.
"What?" she quips, as Mrs. Weasley stirs a pot of something on the stove, noticing the way the two other girls are staring at her.
"How are you so...happy?" questions Maya, voice dripping with drowsiness.
"Yeah, it's so early" mutters Ginny, leaning against Maya as the other girl wraps an arm around her shoulder, "Not even close to 'awake time' yet"
"Just habit, I guess" replies Hermione, shrugging in nonchalance, a hushed yawn slipping out from her lips. Maya envies her ability to keep a clear head, in the wee hours of the morning, push sleep to the back of her mind as she prepares for the day ahead.
Maybe if she could muster some of that gumption, Maya wouldn't have stumbled directly into a wall one fine morning two weeks ago.
"Oh good, you're all here!" exclaims Mr. Weasley, seated at the table as he looks through their tickets, “We’ve got a bit of a walk,”
“Walk?” says Harry, confus4ed. “What, are we walking to the World Cup?”
“No, no, that’s miles away,” he replies, smiling. “We only need to walk a short way. It’s just that it’s very difficult for a large number of wizards to congregate without attracting Muggle attention. We have to be very careful about how we travel at the best of times, and on a huge occasion like the Quidditch World Cup —”
“George!” says Mrs. Weasley, sharply, as they all jolt to full alertness at her tone.
“What?” replies George, in an innocent tone that sounds exactly like Isabelle trying to explain to Maryse why she walked back home in last night's dress, reeking of alcohol
“What is that in your pocket?”
“Nothing!”
“Don’t you lie to me!”
Mrs. Weasley points her wand at George’s pocket.
“Accio!”
Several small, brightly colored objects zoom out of George’s pocket; he makes a grab for them but misses, and they speed right into Mrs. Weasley’s outstretched hand.
Oh my god, Maya thinks to herself, astounded They really tried to smuggle the sweets to the World Cup.
“We told you to destroy them!” says Mrs. Weasley furiously, holding up what are unmistakably more Ton-Tongue Toffees. “We told you to get rid of the lot! Empty your pockets, go on, both of you!”
It's an unpleasant scene; the twins have evidently been trying to smuggle as many toffees out of the house as possible, and it's only by using her Summoning Charm that Mrs. Weasley manages to find them all.
. “Accio! Accio! Accio!” she shouts, and toffees zoom from all sorts of unlikely places, including the lining of George’s jacket and the turn-ups of Fred’s jeans.
“We spent six months developing those!” Fred shouts at his mother as she threw the toffees away.
“Oh a fine way to spend six months!” she shrieks. “No wonder you didn’t get more O.W.L.s!”
The atmosphere is understandably tense as they leave, a glowering Mrs. Weasley kissing her husband on the cheek, rucksacks hoisted on their backs. Maya sticks next to Harry and Mr. Weasley, surprised at how difficult she finds it to keep up with them.
“So how does everyone get there without all the Mundanes - sorry, Muggles - noticing?” she asks,
“It’s been a massive organizational problem,” sighs Mr. Weasley. “The trouble is, about a hundred thousand wizards turn up at the World Cup, and of course, we just haven’t got a magical site big enough to accommodate them all. There are places Muggles can’t penetrate, but imagine trying to pack a hundred thousand wizards into Diagon Alley or platform nine and three-quarters. So we had to find a nice deserted moor, and set up as many antiMuggle precautions as possible. The whole Ministry’s been working on it for months. First, of course, we have to stagger the arrivals. People with cheaper tickets have to arrive two weeks beforehand. A limited number use Muggle transport, but we can’t have too many clogging up their buses and trains — remember, wizards are coming from all over the world. Some Apparate, of course, but we have to set up safe points for them to appear, well away from Muggles. I believe there’s a handy wood they’re using as the Apparition point. For those who don’t want to Apparate, or can’t, we use Portkeys. They’re objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do large groups at a time if you need to. There have been two hundred Portkeys placed at strategic points around Britain, and the nearest one to us is up at the top of Stoatshead Hill, so that’s where we’re headed.”
The amount of talking starts to cease, as they begin to near the top. Maya is honestly a little ashamed at how she's huffing and puffing for just climbing up a hill. After all, this shouldn't even feel that bad, considering the side effects she felt after spending hours in training for her shapeshifting powers with Tessa.
“Whew,” pants Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his sweater.“Well, we’ve made good time — we’ve got ten minutes. . . .”
Hermione comes over the crest of the hill last, clutching a stitch in her side.
“Now we just need the Portkey,” says Mr. Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. “It won’t be big. . . . Come on . . .”
They spread out, searching. They've only been at it for a couple of minutes, however, when a shout rings the still air.
“Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we’ve got it!”
Two tall figures are silhouetted against the starry sky on the other side of the hilltop.
“Amos!” says Mr. Weasley, smiling as he strides over to the man who's shouted.
The rest of them follow. Mr. Weasley was shaking is with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who's holding a moldy-looking old boot in his other hand.
“This is Amos Diggory, everyone,” says Mr. Weasley. “He works for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?”
The first thing Maya notices about Cedric - ashamedly, she admits - is his stunning looks; dark copper hair, oceanic eyes, lean, sinewy frame and a dimple in his left cheek as he smiles, good-naturedly. He's the type of handsome that belongs in an another time, the kind that Isabelle would dismiss as being too “nice-guy looking”
“Hi,” says Cedric, looking around at them all.
“Long walk, Arthur?” Cedric’s father asks
“Not too bad,” says Mr. Weasley. “We live just on the other side of the village there. You?”
“Had to get up at two, didn’t we, Ced? I tell you, I’ll be glad when he’s got his Apparition test. Still . . . not complaining . . . Quidditch World Cup, wouldn’t miss it for a sackful of Galleons — and the tickets cost about that. Mind you, looks like I got off easy. . . .”
Amos Diggory peers good-naturedly around at the three Weasley boys, her, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny
. “All these yours, Arthur?” “
Oh no, only the redheads,” says Mr. Weasley, pointing out his children. “This is Hermione, friend of Ron’s — Maya, we knew her father well at school, and Harry, another friend —”
“Merlin’s beard,” says Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. “Harry? Harry Potter?”
“Er — yeah,” says Harry, uncomfortable.
“Ced’s talked about you, of course,” says Amos Diggory. “Told us all about playing against you last year. . . . I said to him, I said — Ced, that’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, that will. . . . You beat Harry Potter!”
Maya stays silent, knowing that this probably isn’t in her place to discuss. Fred and George are both scowling again. Cedric looks slightly embarrassed.
“Harry fell off his broom, Dad,” he mutters. “I told you . . . it was an accident. . . .”
He’s more decent of a person than she originally figured.
It’s in her nature to expect the worst of people - in fact, it’s not even something she’s proud of. Maya does try to see the good in everyone, harness the ability that makes her mother so well-liked in the Nephilim community,
“Yes, but you didn’t fall off, did you?” roars Amos genially, slapping his son on his back. “Always modest, our Ced, always the gentleman . . . but the best man won, I’m sure Harry’d say the same, wouldn’t you, eh? One falls off his broom, one stays on, you don’t need to be a genius to tell which one’s the better flier!”
“Must be nearly time,” says Mr. Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. “Do you know whether we’re waiting for any more, Amos?”
“No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn’t get tickets,” says Mr. Diggory. “There aren’t any more of us in this area, are there?”
“Not that I know of,” says Mr. Weasley. “Yes, it’s a minute off. . . . We’d better get ready. . . .”
He looks around at Harry and Maya.
“You just need to touch the Portkey, that’s all, a finger will do —”
With difficulty, owing to their bulky backpacks, the ten of them crowd around the old boot held out by Amos Diggory. They all stand there, in a tight circle, as a chill breeze sweeps over the hilltop. Nobody speaks. It suddenly occurs to Maya how odd this would look if a Mundane were to walk up here now . . . ten people, two of them grown men, clutching this manky old boot in the semidarkness, waiting. . .
. “Three . . .” mutters Mr. Weasley, one eye still on his watch, “two . . . one . . .”
And with a bang, they’re off to the Quidditch world cup.
“Prime seats!” says the Ministry witch at the entrance when she checks their tickets. “Top Box! Straight upstairs, Arthur, and as high as you can go.”
Wow, thinks Maya to herself, impressed as they enter the stadium. She didn't expect the seating to be this fancy, although Nandini did hint that it would be nice. She stifles a yawn, the exertion from the walk and the amount of time it took to set up everything catching up to her.
Or maybe it's just the fact that she lay awake almost all night due to jet lag.
At least, that's what she tells herself.
The stairs into the stadium are carpeted in rich purple. They clamber upward with the rest of the crowd, which slowly filters away through doors into the stands to their left and right. Mr. Weasley’s party keeps climbing, and at last they reach the top of the staircase and find themselves in a small box, set at the highest point of the stadium and situated exactly halfway between the golden goal posts.
About twenty purple-and-gilt chairs stand in two rows here, and Maya is utterly dumbstruck, looks down upon a scene the likes of which she could never have imagined. A hundred thousand witches and wizards are taking their places in the seats, which rise in levels around the long oval field. Everything is suffused with a mysterious golden light, which seems to come from the stadium itself. The field looks smooth as velvet from their lofty position. At either end of the field stand three goal hoops, fifty feet high; right opposite them, a little above Maya's eye level, is a gigantic blackboard. Gold writing keeps dashing across it, as though an invisible giant’s hand is scrawling upon the blackboard and then wiping it off again; watching it, Maya realizes that it's flashing advertisements across the field, similar to the way sponsors paint themselves across the boundaries in mundane football.
Some things never change.
She looks to her right, to see Harry deeply engaged in conversation with a house-elf, eyebrows furrowing by the second. A flurry of excitement goes through her at the game she's about to witness. Maya has never been the type of person to be enthusiastic about sports, though she's no stranger to exercise and physical exertion. But standing here, almost at the top of the world, she suddenly understands why her father (Arjun) used to love Quidditch so much. The collective tension merges, and though she tries to hide it, the corner of her mouth turns up with anticipation, as she turns back to observe the scene around her.
Ron pulls out his Omnioculars and starts testing them, staring down into the crowd on the other side of the stadium.
“Wild!” he says, twiddling the replay knob on the side. “I can make that old bloke down there pick his nose again . . . and again . . . and again ."
Gross.
Hermione, meanwhile, is skimming eagerly through her velvet-covered, tasseled program.
“ ‘A display from the team mascots will precede the match,’ ” she reads aloud.
“Oh that’s always worth watching,” says Mr. Weasley. “National teams bring creatures from their native land, you know, to put on a bit of a show.”
"Sounds interesting" quips Maya, as Ron gives her an approving grin.
The box fills gradually around them over the next half hour. Mr. Weasley keeps shaking hands with people who are obviously very important wizards. Percy jumps to his feet so often that Maya has to resist the urge to snicker; he looks as though he's trying to sit on a hedgehog. When Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself, arrives Percy bows so low that his glasses fall off and shatter. Highly embarrassed, he repairs them with his wand and thereafter remains in his seat, throwing jealous looks at Harry, whom Cornelius Fudge had greeted like an old friend.
“Harry Potter, you know,” he tells the Bulgarian minister loudly, who's wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold and doesn’t seem to understand a word of English. “Harry Potter . . . oh come on now, you know who he is . . . the boy who survived You-Know-Who . . . you do know who he is —”
The Bulgarian wizard suddenly spots Harry’s scar and starts gabbling loudly and excitedly, pointing at it.
“Knew we’d get there in the end,” says Fudge wearily to Maya, who gives him an awkward nod. “I’m no great shakes at languages; I need Barty Crouch for this sort of thing. Ah, I see his house-elf’s saving him a seat. . . . Good job too, these Bulgarian blighters have been trying to cadge all the best places . . . ah, and here’s Lucius!”
Maya turns, as Mr. Weasley's face morphs into one of grim placidness. She gently pushes past Ron to find the object of his clear irritation.
A tall, blond man comes into focus, his robes clearly expensive, with a silver carved cane to match. He wears a snooty expression to match, pale blue eyes glittering with something that makes Maya take an instant dislike to him. A woman, who she assumes is his wife, stands next to him, tall and slim. She's clearly attractive, all sharp-featured and grey-eyed, but it's dampened by the expression on her face, as though there's a nasty smell under her nose that she just can't shake.
However, Maya's eyes immediately flit to the two teenagers standing directly behind them ; a boy and a girl. The boy shares the height gene that looks to be predominant in their family, easily clearing six feet in his all-black suit - a bit extra for the occasion, considering they're at a Quidditch match. His hair is the whitest blond she's ever seen, almost glowing against the `dark backdrop of the star-studded sky around them. She can't really see his face, but when he turns to look their way, her eyes accidentally lock with his, dark pools of grey, the exact color of mercury.
Maya has the urge to shudder, but she represses it, not letting herself be intimidated by someone she hasn't even met yet.
The girl, however, she picks up a different energy from. Her hair is the same color, pulled back with a headband and cut just above her shoulders, but with more yellow tones, contrasting greatly against her red sweater, that's tucked into an expensive black skirt she suspects costs more than her college savings. She gives Maya a soft smile, as soon as their eyes flit to each other, and she can't help but return it, feeling a sort of warmth emanating from this new person, a sharp difference from the rest of her family, who all look like the iceberg that ended the Titanic.
“Ah, Fudge,” says Mr. Malfoy, holding out his hand as he reachea the Minister of Magic. “How are you? I don’t think you’ve met my wife, Narcissa? Or our children, Draco and Diana?”
“How do you do, how do you do?” says Fudge, smiling and bowing to Mrs. Malfoy. “And allow me to introduce you to Mr. Oblansk — Obalonsk — Mr. — well, he’s the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, and he can’t understand a word I’m saying anyway, so never mind. And let’s see who else — you know Arthur Weasley, I daresay?”
The moment is very tense - Maya suddenly feels like she's intruding on something private. The two families glare at each other with pure loathing, except Diana, who shares the same confused expression as her.
“Good lord, Arthur,”says Lucius, softly. “What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much?”
Maya suddenly has a vivid vision of her fist connecting with his face, and has to look away so she can compose herself.
Fudge, who isn’t listening, says, “Lucius has just given a very generous contribution to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, Arthur. He’s here as my guest.”
“How — how nice,” says Mr. Weasley, with a very strained smile.
Mr. Malfoy’s eyes have returned to Hermione, who goes slightly pink, but stared determinedly back at him. However, they quickly flit to Maya, scanning her up and down with calculation, triumphance glittering as she crosses her arms over her chest. She narrows her eyes, using the look that's worked so well on everyone back home - resting bitch face, as Jace likes to call it - and feels a sliver of satisfaction as he looks away, though his son's eyes on her still persist.
She ignores him.
However, under the gaze of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Malfoy doesn't dare say anything. He nods sneeringly to Mr. Weasley and continues down the line to his seats. The boy shoots Harry, Ron, and Hermione one contemptuous look, though his eyes linger on her, then settled himself between his mother and father. Diana waves at Maya with a smile, but it quickly falls from her face as her brother whispers something in her ear, immediately looking away with a flush on her cheeks.
“Slimy gits,” Ron mutters as he, Harry, Hermione and Maya turn to face the field again.
"Indeed" replies Maya, sardonically.
Next moment, Ludo Bagman charges into the box.
“Everyone ready?” he says, his round face gleaming like a great, excited Edam. “Minister — ready to go?"
“Ready when you are, Ludo,” says Fudge, comfortably.
Ludo whips out his wand, directs it at his own throat, and said “Sonorus!” and then speaks over the roar of sound that was now filling the packed stadium; his voice echoes over them, booming into every corner of the stands.
“Ladies and gentlemen . . . welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”
Long story short, Ireland lost, Krum catching the Snitch at the very last moment.
Maya's still a little miffed from her expectations.
"Viktor I love you-"
"Viktor I do-"
"When we're apart-"
"My heart beats only for yooou!!"
Maya and Ginny double over in almost-hysterical laughter, at the Twin's teasing of Ron, who looks very, very offended, the tips of his ears burning scarlet from sheer embarrassment. Hermione smiles, as Maya sees her eyes, which are adoringly trained on the redheaded boy.
Looks like someone has a crush.
"Shut up" he mutters, almost going scarlet.
"I think you're in love, Ron" teases Ginny, as tears of mirth escape Maya's eyes. The moment is light, happy, giving her a sensation of security that she hasn't felt in a while. For once, Maya feels like she belongs, feeling none of the usual anxiety and stress that comes with new situations and meeting new people.
Suddenly, Mr. Weasley rushes in, all chatter ceasing at the grave, urgent look on his face.
"“Get up! Ron — Harry — Maya, come on now, get up, this is urgent!”
They all give each other confused looks, standing up as Maya brushes the nonexistent dust off of her jeans. A sudden tremor goes through her as she hears screams - horrified ones - and she instinctively grabs her phone from one of the beds, practically ripping it out of it's wall socket in her haste to get out of there.
Her eyes are not at all prepared for the sight that graces her.
People in black robes storm the area, shooting spells at innocent civilians, who run for their lives. She barely has time to process anything, before Hermione is dragging her along by the wrist, her bushy hair flying out behind her. Maya's heart is thundering inside her chest, as she starts running, a purple jet of light narrowly missing Ginny as she pulls her out of the way.
She's had experience with combat before, about a year ago, when the Institute's wards failed to protect themselves from wraith demons. Maya can sometimes still hear the screams, the shouts of pure terror as a pair of razor-sharp demon wings pierced the tender skin of her arm. She remembers pulling Max with her, horrified as Nandini screamed at her to hide. Maya had locked the two of them in Alec's room, trying to calm the child down as to not alert the demons of their presence.
She doesn't even have to look at their masks to know what these people are.
Death Eaters.
Maya doesn't even notice the fact that they've run into the forest until she hears an oof! from the ground; she looks down and sees him sprawled out on the muddy earth.
“Tripped over a tree root,” he says angrily, getting to his feet again.
“Well, with feet that size, hard not to,” replies a drawling voice from behind them.
Draco Malfoy is standing alone nearby, leaning against a tree, looking utterly relaxed. His arms folded, he seems to have been watching the scene at the campsite through a gap in the trees. A sick feeling goes through her stomach at the sight of him, looking as if he's used to this, as if seeing wizards and witches die is what he watches on the after-school Disney Channel circuit.
Ron tells Malfoy to do something that Maya knows would get her grounded if she ever dared repeat it in front of her mother.
“Language, Weasley,” says Malfoy, his pale eyes glittering. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along, now? You wouldn’t like her spotted, would you?”
His eyes flit to Hermione.
And the implication in his voice is the last straw for Maya.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” replies Hermione defiantly.
“Granger, they’re after Muggles,” says Malfoy. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in midair? Because if you do, hang around . . . they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”
“Hermione’s a witch,” Harry snarls.
“Have it your own way, Potter,” replies Malfoy, grinning maliciously. “If you think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.”
Maya resists the urge to slap his pretty face to Edom as she steps closer, folding her arms over her chest in an attempt to look threatening.
"And what's your cowardly ass doing out here?" she spits, scathingly, "Waiting for Mummy and Dad to finish the job at the campsite so you can go home?"
Something flickers in his eyes, as he looks at her, and Maya gulps, finally noticing that he's a head taller than her in the moonlight.
"Maya-" starts Ginny, alarmed, as the girl in question gives her a warning look.
"Well, well, well" he drawls, stepping closer, "Look what we have here. A new addition to Potter's little gang-"
"Shut your mouth, Malfoy" spits Harry, looking as though he would very well like to push him into the ground.
"I suppose you're a filthy muggle lover then?" he questions, daring her to answer back, "Just like the rest of them?"
"What if I am?"
The tone of her voice is very, very dangerous, a simmering cauldron waiting to boil over beneath the calm. Her eyes are filled with the scorching timbres of rage, full and clear in the dark, fierce sapphires that send a shudder down Draco's spine. There's a certain air about her, that hints there's more than meets the eye.
For a moment, she seems not quite human.
He's misjudged her very, very badly, Draco thinks to himself. Sure, she doesn't look like a threat, incredibly petite, dressed anassumingly in a muggle shirt and jeans, hair falling in innocent waves down her back from a ponytail that's starting to fall out. She shouldn't intimidate him, shouldn't even be of notice, but somehow, she manages to do anything but.
Whoever she is, Draco has a feeling that she could - and would - kill him if she wanted to.
He doesn't know what motivates the next few words to leave his mouth.
"Then you better watch your back"
Her eyes harden at his words, instinctively reaching for what he thinks is her wand. However, the Weasley girl stops her, grabbing her by the arm, and muttering something in her ear.
"Is that a threat?" she replies, raising an eyebrow, "Because if it is.....you don't know who you're screwing with, Malfoy"
"Maya, come on!"
She finally takes the hint, shooting him a venomous look as the girl runs after her friends. Draco watches her leave, his mouth set in a thin line as footsteps sound behind him.
"She's cute" muses Diana, a thin smirk on her face as she leans against a nearby tree.
More like scary as hell, he thinks to himself.
Draco rolls his eyes, shooting her an incredulous look.
"She's also a blood traitor" he reminds her, internally sighing as his younger sister rolls her eyes.
"Come on, don't tell me that you believe all the crap that we're being fed" she replies
"It's the truth"
"Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night?"
Draco ignores her, looking over his shoulder as he walks away.
"C'mon. Mum and Dad are waiting at the gate"
His eyes catch sight of the new girl, her slender figure sillhouetted against the smoke that's starting to blanket the entire forest. They catch on something in her jacket - a shiny piece of metal with crystals on both ends, carved with runes that signify it to be one thing, and one thing only.
A stele.
Looks like little miss spitfire has a secret.
Chapter Text
September 2014
NANDINI HAD ALMOST CRIED WHEN SHE SAW MAYA for the first time since the cup.
Magnus had been there too, his anxious face morphing to one of immense relief as soon as he caught sight of her petite figure stumbling back to the house after a particularly tense car ride. Maya hadn't even questioned why he was there, knowing that Magnus was family at this point, considering that he had half-raised her when Nandini had been busy on missions. It's not that her mother was away all the time. After all, she didn't like the feeling of having her daughter being alone for so long - hence why she'd been very apprehensive about sending her to Hogwarts.
And the incident at the Quidditch World Cup definitely hadn't helped.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?" questions Nandini, worriedly, a hand on Maya's shoulder as her daughter prepares to depart for the Hogwarts express. The train is standing there in all it's garangutan glory, thick ivory smoke billowing in heaps onto the platform. It irritates her lungs, Nandini having to spare a fit of coughing, for fear that the people around her will suspect that she's a chronic smoker - she does have one cigarette from time to time, but it's never enough to make her dependent on the nicotine or develop a chronic disease.
At least, that's what she thinks.
"It's not too late to pull you out of school, " she offers, as Maya sighs, "You could always go to Ilvermorny-"
"Mom, I'll be fine." replies Maya, softly, "Besides, I have friends here, people I know...."
Her words trail off, as she glances at the trio chattering about something a little further down the platform. Hermione's hair is as bushy as ever, matching Crookshanks's thick, spiky coat as her eyebrows are raised, clearly in the midst of an indignant monologue. Ron runs a frustrated hair through his violently ginger hair, shooting Maya an awkward look as Harry and Hermione's argument continues. Ginny gives her a sympathetic smile, sensing the American's nervousness at joining a boarding school for the first time. Maya returns it, turning back to her mother as Nandini's words continue.
"Remember, if you need anything, I'm just one call away. You can also send a fire message, if you want, though I'd suggest you only use it for emergencies - lord knows we don't want an accident like last time..."
"Amma (1), it's been two years!"
"Yet Church still hasn't recovered from the disaster that ensued in Magnus's kitchen-"
"Fine, fine, I'll stay out of trouble" mutters Maya, a little annoyed with her mother's overprotectiveness. She lets Nandini have it, though, knowing that it's just a front for her sadness for not seeing her daughter for the next nine months.
"And remember, school comes first" adds Magnus, pointedly, "I know academics won't be a problem for you - considering you're way above this level - but keep in mind the real reason you're here."
"Yeah, asian excellence won't always work for you"
Maya rolls her eyes playfully, crossing her arms over her chest as she checks the time on her watch.
10:55
"Shi- Crap, I'm so late!"
"Go!" replies Magnus, panicked, as Ginny grabs Maya's wrist with a pointed look, dragging her to the train at top speed. Maya waves to her mom and Magnus, her petite figure soon becoming obscured by the smoke. Magnus's cheery facade falls, as he turns to Nandini, the same grave, cutting expression on his face.
"You're running out of time."
"Her birthday is in three months-"
"We don't have that long. For all we know, he could already have someone tailing her-"
"That's not true, the amulet would have showed us-"
"Maya needs to know the truth. She deserves to find out who her real father is-'
"The time isn't right-"
"It's been thirteen years, Nandini. How long are you going to keep the truth from her?"
"I told you, I'm figuring it out"
"Tessa's worried. The signs already show that he's starting to resurface-"
"Maya is safe at Hogwarts."
"We don't know how long that's going to last. And with Dumbledore's eccentricities....it's a grave mistake to send her off like this - like a lamb to the slaughter"
"She'll be fine. Maya has friends, people looking out for her. The professors know the truth - at least, Snape and Mcgonnagall. Nothing's going to happen to her-"
"You have to tell her, Nandini. There's no getting around it. The question is, when?"
"Soon" replies Nandini, ominously, looking off into the distance. It feels like her heart has dropped into her stomach, the pits of dread increasing with each second the scarlet engine pulls away. She can see Maya inside, collapsing over in laughter to some joke one of the kids have said.
Even though her daughter is happy, why does it feel like she's making a very, very big mistake?
“. . . Father actually considered sending me to Durmstrang rather than Hogwarts, you know. He knows the headmaster, you see. Well, you know his opinion of Dumbledore — the man’s such a Mudblood-lover — and Durmstrang doesn’t admit that sort of riffraff. But Mother didn’t like the idea of me going to school so far away. Father says Durmstrang takes a far more sensible line than Hogwarts about the Dark Arts. Durmstrang students actually learn them, not just the defense rubbish we do. . . .”
"Please don't tell me he's going to come barging in here again" mutters Maya, scowling at her notebook, "One time is too many"
Hermione gets up, tiptoes to the compartment door, and slides it shut, blocking out Malfoy’s voice.
Finally, thinks Maya to herself, scribbling out the rest of the verse that's come to her head. She does this a lot, write poetry. Not poetry, exactly, but rhyming couplets, clever little whims and snaggles that come to her mind at times.
“So he thinks Durmstrang would have suited him, does he?” she says, angrily. “I wish he had gone, then we wouldn’t have to put up with him.”
“Durmstrang’s another wizarding school?” says Harry
“Yes,” says Hermione sniffily, “and it’s got a horrible reputation. According to An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, it puts a lot of emphasis on the Dark Arts.”
"Ugh.." shudders Maya, disgusted, "What kind of school would even allow that?"
“I think I’ve heard of it,” says Ron vaguely. “Where is it? What country?”
“Well, nobody knows, do they?” replies Hermione, raising her eyebrows.
“Wait, what? “ whispers Maya, incredulous, eyes wide, stuffing her notebook in her bag as she leans closer.
"There’s traditionally been a lot of rivalry between all the magic schools. Durmstrang and Beauxbatons like to conceal their whereabouts so nobody can steal their secrets,” says Hermione, matter-offactly.
“Come off it,” says Ron, starting to laugh. “Durmstrang’s got to be about the same size as Hogwarts — how are you going to hide a great big castle?”
“But Hogwarts is hidden,” says Hermione, in surprise. “Everyone knows that . . . well, everyone who’s read Hogwarts, A History, anyway.”
“Just you, then,” says Harry. “So go on — how d’you hide a place like Hogwarts?”
“It’s bewitched,” replies Hermione, a tad miffed. “If a Muggle looks at it, all they see is a moldering old ruin with a sign over the entrance saying danger, do not enter, unsafe.”
“So Durmstrang’ll just look like a ruin to an outsider too?” questions Maya, very much interested.
“Maybe,” says Hermione, shrugging, “or it might have Muggle repelling charms on it, like the World Cup stadium. And to keep foreign wizards from finding it, they’ll have made it Unplottable —”
“Come again?”
“Well, you can enchant a building so it’s impossible to plot on a map, can’t you?”
“Er . . . if you say so,” says Harry, confused.
“But I think Durmstrang must be somewhere in the far north,” replies Hermione thoughtfully. “Somewhere very cold, because they’ve got fur capes as part of their uniforms.”
“Ah, think of the possibilities,” replies Ron dreamily. “It would’ve been so easy to push Malfoy off a glacier and make it look like an accident. . . . Shame his mother likes him. . . .”
Maya chokes on her water, almost spitting it out as she laughs, the back of her hand placed over her mouth.
"Bloody hell" she finally manages to say, leaning back in her seat, "You guys really are something, aren't you?"
The rain outside gets deeper as they move into the Scottish countryside, the landscape being so dark that the lanterns are lit by midday. Maya ends up dozing off half an hour later, head slumped against the window, the notebook still in her hand. She supposes that all the jet lag and stress has finally caught up to her, considering that she can't remember napping in the afternoon since she was a toddler. It works though, since she feels much more refreshed once she stirs, four hours later, to the soft sounds of conversation in the compartment.
“Oh wow,” says Neville, enviously as Ron tips a figure of Krum onto his pudgy hand.
“We saw him right up close, as well,” he replies, proudly, “We were in the Top Box —”
“For the first and last time in your life, Weasley.”
Draco Malfoy appears in the doorway, his tall body leaning against the doorframe. Behind him stand two thuggish-looking boys, both as thick as tree-trunks and eyeing Maya in a calculated way that sends a repressed shudder down her spine.
“Don’t remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,” replies Harry coolly.
“Weasley . . . what is that?” says Malfoy, pointing at Pigwidgeon’s cage.
A sleeve of Ron’s dress robes is dangling from it, swaying with the motion of the train, the moldy lace cuff very obvious. Ron tries to stuff the robes out of sight, but Malfoy is too quick for him; he seizes the sleeve and pulls.
“Look at this!” says Malfoy in ecstasy, holding up Ron’s robes and showing the two boys, “Weasley, you weren’t thinking of wearing these, were you? I mean — they were very fashionable in about eighteen ninety. . . .”
"Oh, burn in hell" snarls Maya, which just makes him laugh harder.
"I see you've decided to join Potter's little party-"
“Eat dung, Malfoy!” says Ron, the same color as the dress robes as he snatches them back out of Malfoy’s grip.
Malfoy howls with derisive laughter.
. “So . . . going to enter, Weasley? Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There’s money involved as well, you know . . . you’d be able to afford some decent robes if you won. . . .”
“What are you talking about?” snaps Ron.
“Are you going to enter?” Malfoy repeats
“I suppose you will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?”
“Either explain what you’re on about or go away, Malfoy,” replies Hermione testily, over the top of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.
A gleeful smile spreads across Malfoy’s pale face.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know?” he says, delightedly. “You’ve got a father and brother at the Ministry and you don’t even know? My God, my father told me about it ages ago . . . heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father’s always associated with the top people at the Ministry. . . . Maybe your father’s too junior to know about it, Weasley . . . yes . . . they probably don’t talk about important stuff in front of him. . . .”
"Do you ever stop talking?" snaps Maya, closing her book shut with a perfunctory snap. Malfoy's pale eyes flit to her, and for a moment, he looks threatened, but the glittering malice comes back as she stands up, in all her diminutive glory.
"So you are coming to Hogwarts this year"
"Is that a problem?"
"Why have I never heard of you before?..." mutters Draco, silently, racking his brain for any information about the girl in front of him.
Maya sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose as a few moments go by.
"Take a picture, Malfoy" she snaps, finally noticing his stare, "It'll last longer"
Suddenly, another girl pokes her head into compartment, hair identical to her brother's.
"Hi" she says, softly, giving Maya a smile as she notices her, "Um, Draco, sorry to interrupt your little barbecue, but Pansy wants to talk to you."
"What does she want now?" replies Draco, irritated.
"She needs to know what color tie you're wearing, so she can match it to her dress-"
"I already told her, I'm not going to the-"
He cuts himself off abruptly, realizing the presence of the lowly people around him.
"Fine." he growls, running a hand through his perfectly gelled hair - a trait no doubt picked up from his scheming liar of a father, Maya thinks to herself, viciously. She doesn't know why she hates him so much, with his rich-boy attitude, clear prejudice and bratty voice. He absolutely infuriates her, and it is with great restraint that Maya forces herself to stop imagining the ten different ways she could stab him with her quill.
"If you're done, the door is that way" she snaps, gesturing to the sliding apparatus behind him.
Correction. Eleven.
Draco rolls his eyes, a dark chuckle escaping his lips as he glances at her one last time.
"Scared?" he questions.
Maya scoffs.
"In your dreams"
Draco Malfoy raises his eyebrows, before leaving, slamming the compartment door shut as his tall figure strides away from them.
"What an arse" mutters Neville, as Maya frowns, sitting back down.
"Understatement of the year"
Diana Malfoy fidgets with her collar, smoothing the black fabric back as she adjusts her hairband for the millionth time. The Great Hall is bustling with chatter, all 10,000 students back for yet another year. Warm candlelight shimmers against the starlit sky above them, the fake ceiling incredibly realistic compared to the flimsy substitute back at Beauxbatons.
She's starting to wish she'd holed back up in France.
Sure, it wasn't exactly her choice to come back to England - in fact, she rather enjoyed the freedom at Beauxbatons, away from the prying eyes and suffocating demeanor that comes with being part of the Malfoys. In those three years that she spent at the school, deep in the Pyrenees, Diana has changed - in ways that could be deemed unsatisfactory by the fragile hierarchy that deems the lives of those privileged and prosperous around her. She learned to think for herself, to disobey the rules, to breathe. Of course, Diana hasn't mentioned a word of her previous activities to her family - she doubts her father would be pleased if he found out about her frequent trips to muggle Paris, roaming the city late at night whilst snacking on various flavored macarons.
Shit, now she's hungry.
Point being, Diana doesn't want to be at Hogwarts with her older brother. But what Lucius Malfoy says is as good as law, and the last thing any of them want to do is go against his word. Draco learned that the hard way, after a red handprint made it’s way onto his cheek when he refused to put on his shoes at the age of four. She’s also been subject to the same fortune many times, and it took her three years and a talk with the school’s guidance counselor to figure out that what happened to both of them was wrong.
Maybe that’s why Draco’s changed so drastically, she thinks to herself, glancing at her older brother at the Slytherin table. His face is rested in his palm, an undeniably bored expression on his face as the rest of his “friends” go chattering away. He’s become so cold, cruel, calculating in a way that unsettles her. Diana knows it’s just a defense mechanism, a mask that Draco puts on to hide his pain. She knows there has to be some crevice of him that resents their father, for what he’s done - doing - to their family.
But the prospect seems less certain as the seconds go by.
Diana looks to her left, eyes immediately landing on a certain dark-haired girl, apparently engrossed with something on her cell-phone (she learned that word from Lucille). She stands on her tip toes, waving the device up over her head. Diana supposes she’s trying to find a signal, making a mental note to inform her of the wards that mess with muggle devices such as these. She doesn’t persist, however, tucking the phone in a pocket of her robes with a scowl on her face.
“The Astronomy Tower!”, Diana whispers in her direction, when no one’s looking their way.
The girl blinks, leaning closer in confusion.
“What?”
“That’s the only place you can get a decent phone signal around here”
She looks miffed for a second, then breaks out into a nervous smile, enhancing the dimple in her left cheek.
“Um….thanks, I guess”
Diana sighs, putting her hand on her head in utter embarrassment.
Sacre bleu (2), why does she always come off as a psychopath whenever she tries to introduce herself?
“Sorry, I didn’t get a proper chance to tell you during the world cup. I’m Diana, Diana Malfoy”
The girl gives her a perfunctory smile, one that truly does seem genuine as she shrugs, nonchalantly.
“I’m Maya Rajesh.”
Diana sticks her hand out hesitantly, hoping Maya won’t leave her hanging.
“Welcome to Hogwarts, Maya”
She takes it.
And for once, Diana can sigh in relief.
At least she has one friend around here.
“And now, for our first transfer student for this year, Maya Rajesh!”
The girl in question takes a few steps forward, silently praying that her feet support her on the seemingly endless journey to the sorting hat. She shakily takes a seat on the wooden stool, rocking precariously beneath her, wiping her sweaty palms on the black uniform skirt that suddenly seems a little too short.
“Mmm….another Desai-”
Maya jumps, for a split second, not at all prepared for the low drawl of the sorting hat’s voice in her head. She hasn’t heard that name for nine years, long dormant since the untimely demise of her father.
And she doesn’t like being referred to with it either.
“But you’re not like the rest of them, are you now?” it muses, almost bored, “A thirst for knowledge, a rebellious streak, a tendency to be able to get what you want no matter the cost, you’d do very well in Slytherin my dear, very well indeed….”
Maya glances at the table blanketed in emerald and silver. A familiar pair of grey eyes make her acquaintance, and she immediately looks away, instantly regretting her decision.
Oh hell no.
“Not Slytherin,”she whispers in desperation, “Anything but Slytherin, please…”
“Not Slytherin, eh? I suppose it isn’t that great of a choice either, what with your fiery temper, adventurous tendencies, you’d set the place on fire within a matter of seconds. Oh well. If it isn’t Slytherin, better be…...GRYFFINDOR!!”
The table covered in red and gold cheers, as a blanket of relief closes over her. Maya’s shoulders drop in relief as she walks over to the table quickly, not wanting to draw more attention to herself than she already has.
“Congrats!” states Fred, heartily, as the lapels on her robes change to scarlet, “I knew you were one of us from the start!”
“I actually pictured you as more of a Ravenclaw” states Ginny, placing a french fry into her mouth, the end lathered with ketchup. Hermione shoots her a look, at what she thinks offends Maya, but in reality, she isn’t bothered in the slightest.
Although you never really know with her. Some days, it takes just a simple comment to set her off. Others, the whole world could burn to the ground and she couldn’t care less. It’s not that she’s oblivious, well, to most things. It’s that Maya’s used to harsh criticism from her peers, considering what goes on behind her mother’s back at the Institute.
That’s the only reason she’s ever considered leaving New York.
“I did too” she confesses, spooning some pasta onto her plate. It’s pretty good, for school food, she thinks, taking a tentative bite. But there’s nothing like her mother’s lasagna at home
“And now, for our second transfer student…..Diana Malfoy!”
Diana sits on the stool with her head high, shoulders square. Her face is a mask of entitlement, icy confidence that she hopes doesn’t give away the fact that her legs have turned into a quivering pile of girl-jello.
“Another Malfoy, hmm….” drawls the sorting hat, “I had the pleasure of sorting your brother three fine years ago - bit nasty he is, yeah. But - oh, wait, what do we have here? Lots of hope in that fine head of yours, a hardworking nature, a thirst to prove yourself, fierce loyalty to your loved ones. You feel conflicted, your thoughts differ from that of your family. The path you choose now will determine the outcome for the rest of your life. Good god, you’re very complicated, hmm…..”
Draco’s eyes are trained on her, his expressionless face nothing but a mask for the storm of anxiety swirling around in the pit of his stomach. The siblings share a tense look.
The sorting shouldn’t be taking this long.
Slytherin prays Diana, in her head, It has to be Slytherin, come on….
Both of them know what’s going to happen if it isn’t.
“Very well, Miss Malfoy..” states the hat, “It seems you’ve made your choice-”
Finally...Diana thinks to herself, in sheer relief.
There are no discrepancies. She’ll get sorted into Slytherin, just like everyone else. Everything will be alright, more than alright, in fact. Who knows, maybe she’ll carve the same path to greatness as her grandfather-
“Let it be……….HUFFLEPUFF!!”
Her jaw promptly hits the floor.
The great hall lapses into pin-drop silence, all eyes suddenly flitting to her. It feels like her heart has stopped, suddenly free from it’s delirious rapture of pumping the blood through her body.
The centuries of blood that she’s gone against.
The sorting hat’s verdict has been set.
A Malfoy - a bonafide, in-the-flesh MALFOY - has been placed into hufflepuff.
Professor Sprout catches her by the wrist, pulling her away from the stool. Whispers break out in the hall, some of them reaching her ears. Diana doesn’t even look at her brother, already picturing the horrified expression that graces his face.
“Professor, there has to be some sort of mistake-” she tries, in desperation, “I mean, I can’t be in hufflepuff, it’s just not possible!-”
“The sorting hat tells no lies, Ms. Malfoy,” replies Sprout, a grave expression on her face, “Whatever it means, you were sent here for a reason. I’ll owl your father in the morning to let him know-”
“But-”
“Enjoy the feast. You’ll need your energy tomorrow”
Diana slumps in her seat, hunching over in a way that would horrify her mother. Her head is in her hands, ignoring most of the whispers that pass over her. She blinks the tears from her eyes, willing herself not to lose control just yet.
She’s done for.
Diana’s failed everyone - her parents, her brother, her “friends”. There’s no going back now, not when something like this has happened. Diana watches the lapels of her robes turn yellow, a color she’s always found loathsome, too cheery and bright to exist. Her world has come halting to a stop.
And there’s no one to blame but her.
Notes:
(1) Amma - Tamil for mom
(2) Sacre Bleu - expletive, French
Chapter 4
Notes:
tw: death, anxiety and a little bit of blood + hints of emotional abuse. this chapter delves into what really happened the night arjun died in the form of a nightmare + maya's trauma, so proceed with caution.
Chapter Text
January 2005
ARJUN CAN BARELY SEE THE ROAD ahead of him.
The fog is stagnant, unnaturally thick, and white in the way that it covers the path. The smell of Chinese takeout wafts toward his nose, enticing an angry growl from his stomach, which hasn't eaten anything since an incredibly unsatisfying lunch. It's that time of the month for his wife, the time where everything and anything irritates her.
She may be a foot shorter than him, but she's terrifying when she wants to be.
To "appease the beast", as Arjun would normally put it, he's bringing over some takeout from their favorite Chinese place. Moo-shu pork and fried rice for him, stir-fried tofu and pineapple fried rice for his wife, and bao buns - four filled with stir-fried tofu and vegetables, two filled with custard, for Maya, who is also vegetarian, like her mother.
He hasn't seen much of his family of late - the Auror office has been keeping him busy in that regard. Voldemort’s men are rising up in large numbers, determined to avenge their fallen leader in a way unlike anything he’s ever seen before. It’s almost like they’re waiting for him to come back, even though it’s very clear that he’s gone….right?
The Shadow World isn’t all that quiet either. Nandini’s expression of late has been grave, tense, like she’s bound to break any second. He knows that she’s still in contact with Maryse Lightwood, and therefore, is informed of the sudden hub of activity in New York. Previously dormant areas are now filled with vampire haunts, seelie drug clubs and god knows how many more dens of iniquity. It makes him nervous, this sudden rise in danger, afraid for more to come.
He tries not to think about the fact that his wife and daughter are alone at home.
What does it mean, all of these signs? The Order hasn’t found anything yet - they’ve been so useless lately that he wonders why he even joined in the first place. Something dark is starting to brew around them - that much he knows.
And Arjun can’t help but wonder if it’s centered around the three of them.
A figure suddenly darts in front of his car, forcing him to make an abrupt stop. He’s thrown forward in his seat, immediately hissing as his head smacks against the dashboard.
“Who the frick-”
You can say “fuck”, Maya isn’t here, his brain reminds him, but he ignores it.
Arjun’s head snaps back up, face twisted into one of pure irritation, a bruise already starting to form on the place where he hit his head.
Oh come on.
“Bloody hell, are you blind-”
There’s no one in front of him.
Fear suddenly takes over Arjun’s body, as the same blur runs across the road one more time, too fast to give him a clear image. His knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel, heart thundering in his chest.
At last, they’ve cornered him.
He doesn’t see the headlights of the truck until it’s too late.
October 2014
SHE WAKES UP AS SOON AS THE CAR HITS THE TREE.
Maya bolts upright in bed, her head slamming against the headboard with unintended force. She immediately hisses, body curling into an almost-fetal position.
Only then does she realize that she’s about to cry.
She’s no stranger to nightmares - for most of her early childhood, they were present on an almost-daily basis. But as Maya got older, they began to become less frequent, less intense. She hasn’t had a dream like this in over two years.
Especially one about an accident she didn’t even witness.
“Maya?” questions a groggy voice, to her left, “You alright?”
Maya’s head snaps to the other girl’s direction, pulling the covers off of herself as she leans against the headboard. Diana’s blonde hair is messed up, yawning as she runs a sleepy hand through it. Hermione’s also just starting to stir, but thinks the better of it as the soft words leave her lips.
“I-I’m fine, “ she replies, quietly,”Just a bad dream?”
“Are you sure?” replies Hermione, sleepily propping up her face in her hand. Her copper-colored curls have fallen out of her bun, framing her face in a haphazard - yet, appealing manner, “You look very pale”
“It’s okay. I just…...I think I’ll take a walk, or something”
“It’s three in the morning” reminds Diana, looking at her strangely.
“I’ll be quiet, I promise, I just….need some air”
“Avoid the Great Hall and Courtyards - that’s where Filch patrols the most” Hermione states, sinking back into the crimson sheets, “And take your wand with you for good measure, you don’t know who could be out this time of night-”
Maya indirectly picks up on what she means, but doesn’t want to say in front of Diana.
Malfoy.
The thought of running into him in the middle of the night is about as pleasant as swallowing a porcupine. It’s enough to make her stop in her tracks, but she doesn’t.
One way or another, she has to get this out of her system.
And Maya knows exactly what she’s going to do.
Draco can’t sleep.
He doesn’t know why - maybe it’s the test on Astronomy he has tomorrow, or the fact that he’s drunk way too much coffee for anyone’s liking. Maybe it’s Pansy sending suggestive glances his way to come spend the night at her dormitory, or Blaise spouting crap about his mother’s new husband, but yet again, his thoughts are too loud for him, swirling around his head in an indiscernible tornado of voices.
His father’s voice has been the most predominant of late.
Diana being sorted into Hufflepuff is a complete nightmare for her older brother. Sure, she’s always been a little different from the rest of his family, considering she’s been at Beauxbatons for the past three years, and yeah, her views on mudbloods (normal humans, as she calls them) are more than liberal. But he was absolutely sure that she’s exactly like him - determined, ambitious, willing to use all means at her disposal to exact revenge.
Is this really the same girl who broke his toy broomstick after he accidentally knocked over her dollhouse?
And blamed it on one of the elves?
Now, however, Draco’s initial bewilderment has morphed into a deep-rooted fear. It’s times like this where he wishes that he was able to do more, more than just sitting here and letting Diana take the fall. Even though he can’t stand the sight of those Hufflepuffs in their canary yellow uniforms, she couldn’t exactly control being sorted into the wrong house, could she? And what, with their dormitories being completely full, it makes it even worse for Diana to be forced to stay with the Gryffindors.
Bloody hell, is he actually pitying her?
Just as he predicted, an ornate door appears on the wall, almost as if out of thin air. He’s been to this place a few times before - the come-and-go room is what they call it - on nights like this, where his mind is racing too fast for his body to keep up. Draco doubts anyone in his year knows where exactly it is, considering the place to be nothing more than an urban legend.
He opens the door.
Instead of a tub filled with bubbles, as he had desired, the room is dark, only lit by the stars glittering in the night sky outside. Cushions lay scattered about the room, as if someone has thrown them haphazardly. He spots a metal object lying on the table, realizing that, on closer inspection, it’s the same stele he saw at the Quidditch world cup.
A stele that now belongs to a certain Gryffindor.
No. Absolutely not.
There’s no way she’s here, in the middle of the night, when everyone with common sense is asleep. In fact, there is absolutely no chance that he’ll run into her. After all, she’s probably not even in the room, considering that he can’t even see her-
Oh. My. Merlin.
Draco scrambles to hide behind a shelf, quickly shielding his body as footsteps make their way from a corner of the room. His eyes flit to the figure on the other side, not daring - or wanting - to believe what he’s seeing.
Maya Rajesh has her back to him, clad in an old, faded t-shirt and a pair of patterned pajama pants that look as though they belong in the 1980s. Her hair is the darkest color he’s ever seen - so black that it shimmers with blue - almost unnatural in it’s sheer intensity. In fact, a lot of the details about her appearance seem eerie….almost like they aren’t there in the first place.
She seems very concentrated on something, hands firmly by her side, back straight, completely still. He wishes he was close enough to hear what she’s whispering underneath her breath, the words completely indiscernible from the distance he’s standing at.
Draco is completely unprepared for what happens next.
Without warning, her silhouette starts to warp - he can’t find any other way to describe it. It’s as if someone has thrown a stone into a pond, the ripples scattering throughout her body. Her skin becomes translucent, then a coffee color. She shoots up in height, hair becoming shorter until it’s at her shoulders. Her legs lengthen and as she turns around, he can see that her eyes are now green. There are black markings covering her exposed skin, and as the moonlight hits them, he realizes, with horror, that they’re actually runes, angelic markings used to power beings known as Shadowhunters, the likes of which he’s never seen before.
Who the hell is this girl?
And why is she at Hogwarts?
In a millisecond, their eyes meet.
Maya Rajesh reaches for her wand, at the same time as him, immediately straightening up. Draco’s stare is challenging, wand pointed at her neck, hers at his chest. He should be scared of her - he realizes, with a bit of pride - this strange new girl with powers that he didn’t even know existed.
“Care to explain why you’re stalking me?” she hisses, through gritted teeth. Her accent annoys him to no end, as Draco steps a few feet closer to her. These bloody Americans - he thinks to himself - so dumb, always too wrapped up in their own little worlds to realize what’s going on around them.
“If you’d cared to look behind you, you would have noticed that I was here first”
Liar, liar, taunts his mind.
“Get out”
“No”
“Leave, or else….”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to give orders, are you, Rajesh?”
She freezes for a millisecond, the color draining from her face as she realizes what he’s witnessed.
Draco smirks.
“I knew there was something off from the start. Explain, will you? You’re clearly not human……..so what the hell are you?”
Chapter Text
October 2014
THERE IS PIN-DROP SILENCE, as she glares at him, the ferocity smoldering in her dark indigo eyes.
"I don't owe you anything" she spits, quite venomously for someone stuck in her predicament.
Draco doesn't know what pushed him to spill the words that left his lips just moments prior. It feels like something is clawing at his insides, an acrid poison spewing flames inside his lungs.
Or maybe, that’s just how he wants to describe it.
In reality, he’s intrigued, confused, almost, by this strange, quiet girl who’s mysteriously joined Hogwarts this year. Lucius himself had a grave look on his face after the Quidditch world cup, when Draco mentioned to him the incident of their unfortunate encounter.
“That girl is trouble” he’d replied, drowsy over a glass of firewhiskey, “The kind of trouble that’s caught the attention of the Dark Lord. You’d do best to keep an eye on her, boy. Wouldn’t want him to be displeased, would you?”
Of course, he’d been sort of amused at first. All sarcasm and fieriness aside, Maya Rajesh doesn’t even come up to his shoulder, her attempt at anger reminding him of a disgruntled pomeranian. Really? This pint-sized firecracker is trouble according to the Dark Lord? The worst thing she could do was stab someone with a toothpick.
Well, that was before he found out that she’s an actual freak of nature.
Draco finally finds words again, as she turns to leave.
“Diana is one of your roommates, am I correct?”
She freezes.
“What about it?”
Draco sighs, running a hand through his hair as vague sentences start to form in his mind.
Is he really contemplating asking Maya Rajesh for a favor?
“Being a…..Malfoy…...the other kids are bound to pick on her for being a Hufflepuff. And though she may not act like it, it will hurt a lot…”
“And your point is?...”
“If I do anything to stop them, it’ll screw things up for both of us. And I doubt my friends are dumb enough to help her either….”
Maya knows exactly where this is going.
And the last thing she wants to do at three in the morning is agree to a sordid favor for this albino rich boy in front of her.
But she can see it in his eyes, he truly does care about his sister. The way he talked about her just now, his tone was desperate, pleading, like he wants to protect her. He’s a coward, obviously, but maybe….maybe he’s a little less cruel than he seems to be.
Towards his family, at least.
“And what exactly do I have to do with this?”
Malfoy looks at her incredulously.
“Look out for her, make sure she doesn’t get hurt…….and maybe I’ll make sure the whole school doesn’t find out about your little secret”
Maya narrows her eyes at him. For some reason, she feels that the deal is a little too good to be true, that there’s an underlying sense of deceit in his tone. She can once remember Arjun telling her to never trust a snake, that they’ll strike once your back is turned. And this boy in front of her is the shrewdest of the pack, eyes glinting with a mischieviousness that unsettles her.
“And…..why should I trust you?”
He smirks.
“You shouldn’t. In fact, I’d probably advise against it for the near future. But I don’t think you have another choice, do you?”
“You’re insane, Malfoy. I barely know you – and I don’t want to either”
“Which is what makes this so much easier” he replies, with a shit-eating grin on his face that makes it twice as hard for Maya to resist the urge to slap it off of his face.
, “You don’t like me. I don’t like you. If you say yes, this will be the last time I ever bring it up…..that is, of course, if you keep up our agreement”
Maya sighs, closing her eyes. She pinches the bridge of her nose with a mixture of annoyance & frustration, silently regretting ever getting out of bed in the first place.
But there’s a part of her that pities him, feels a little bad for his sister. Maya knows what it feels like to not belong – hell, she’s contemplated it all her life. There’s constant derision directed at her and her mother at the Institute – Shadowhunters who can’t seem to accept the fact that Nandini broke the rules so Maya could exist. She’s been called horrific names by everyone – little kids, teenagers, even adults. Freak, outcast, abomination – that seems to be a favorite among them – the Lightwoods have been the only people who have ever treated her as human.
And she’ll be damned if she lets an innocent girl go through what makes her feel like she’s never good enough.
So it’s definitely a surprise to her rational mind when a reluctant “fine” slips it’s way out of her lips.
When they both leave, after a few minutes, Maya can't help but glance back at Draco Malfoy's retreating figure. The sight of him brings confusing emotions to her, but her main frustration is the fact of how easily he gets under her skin.
And she won't award that privilege to just anybody.
The next week passes by quickly, classes and translating phrases to the international students taking up most of her time. Looking at the Beauxbatons students, Maya wonders what her life would've been like if she had chosen to study in France, with their romantic language, silky, pale blue uniform, skiing in the alps.
She'd probably break her neck by the second week.
However, now, as the golden plates return to their original spotless state, her thoughts have no time to wander. There's a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall, which dies away almost instantly as Dumbledore gets to his feet. It's Saturday, the Saturday, the day the champions for the Triwizard tournament are selected.
Maya didn't know what to make of it at first, during the long speech Dumbledore gave at the beginning of the year. The prize is one thousand galleons, which, in America, would amount to two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
You could make a down payment on a house with that much cash thinks Maya to herself, awed.
In all honesty, though, it does sound pretty interesting. Three champions, three schools, three tasks and a hefty prize to the one who wins, she wonders what exactly those tasks entail. The one thing that she does know is that one of them involves dragons, considering that the trio came back with smoking clothes a few days ago.
She's suddenly glad that the tournament doesn't allow anyone under seventeen to enter.
On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime look as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman is beaming and winking at various students. Mr. Crouch, however, looks quite uninterested, almost bored.
Almost like there's something off about him.
“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” says Dumbledore. “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber” — he indicates the door behind the staff table — “where they will be receiving their first instructions.”
He takes out his wand and gives a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins are extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness, similar to the quiet moments before a movie begins at the theaters. The Goblet of Fire now shines more brightly than anything in the whole Hall, the sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames almost painful on the eyes.
Maya is relieved that she doesn't need glasses, otherwise her eyes would be fried by now
Everyone watches, waiting. . . . A few people keep checking their watches. . . .
“Any second,” Lee Jordan whispers, four seats away from her.
The flames inside the goblet suddenly turns red again. Sparks begin to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shoots into the air, a charred piece of parchment flutters out of it — the whole room gasps.
Dumbledore catches the piece of parchment and holds it at arm’s length, so that he can read it by the light of the flames, which have turned back to blue-white.
“The champion for Durmstrang,” he reads, in a strong, clear voice, “will be Viktor Krum!.”
“No surprises there!” yells Ron as a storm of applause and cheering sweeps the Hall. Viktor Krum rises from the Slytherin table and slouches up toward Dumbledore; he turns right, walks along the staff table, and disappears through the door into the next chamber.
“Bravo, Viktor!” booms Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone can hear him, even over all the applause. “Knew you had it in you!"
The clapping and chatting dies down. Now everyone’s attentionis focused again on the goblet, which, seconds later, turns red once more. A second piece of parchment shoots out of it, propelled by the flames.
“The champion for Beauxbatons,” says Dumbledore, “is Fleur Delacour!”
“It’s her, Ron!” Harry shouts as the girl who so resembles a veela gets gracefully to her feet, shakes back her sheets of silvery blonde hair, and sweeps up between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. Even Maya is dumbfounded by her beauty, more radiant than Raziel himself, catching the eye of all the boys - and a few girls - around her.
If she wasn't straight.........somewhat, she'd be head over heels for Miss Delcaour right now.
“Oh look, they’re all disappointed,” Hermione says over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party.
“Disappointed” is a bit of an understatement, Maya thinks. Two of the girls who were not selected have dissolved into tears and are sobbing with their heads on their arms. When Fleur Delacour too has vanished into the side chamber, silence falls again, but this time it is a silence so stiff with excitement you can almost taste it. The Hogwarts champion next . . .
The Goblet of Fire turns red once more; sparks shower out of it; the tongues of flame shoot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulls the third piece of parchment.
“The Hogwarts champion,” he calls, “is Cedric Diggory!”
“No!” says Ron loudly, but nobody hears him except Maya; the uproar from the next table is too great. Every single Hufflepuff has jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric makes his way past them, grinning broadly, and heads off toward the chamber behind the teachers’ table. Maya gives him an approving smile, and he returns it, though a little nervously.
She hopes he knows what he's gotten himself into.
Indeed, the applause for Cedric goes on so long, that it is some time before Dumbledore can make himself heard again.
“Excellent!” Dumbledore calls happily as at last the tumult dies down. “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real —”
But Dumbledore suddenly stops speaking, and it is apparent to everybody what has distracted him
The fire in the goblet has just turned red again. Sparks are flying out of it. A long flame shoots suddenly into the air, and borne upon it is another piece of parchment. Automatically, it seems, Dumbledore reaches out a long hand and seizes the parchment. He holds it out and stares at the name written upon it.
Maya's heart suddenly drops into her stomach, a strange lurch jerking her body slightly to the side. Diana's eyes meet hers, full of fear and confusion. A fourth champion? There is no way this is possible. After all, the tournament only accomodates three, unless Ilvermorny has decided to make a sudden surprise appearance-
There is a long pause, during which Dumbledore stares at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stares at Dumbledore. And then, at long last, Dumbledore cleares his throat and reads out —
“Harry Potter.”
Maya chokes on her pumpkin juice.
Chapter Text
October 2014
HARRY? HARRY POTTER? No, that can't be right.
At least, that was what she thought at first.
How - how could his name have even ended up inside the cup? Did he enter, somehow? No, he can't, considering what happened to Fred and George after they tried to cross the age line. An older student could have also done it, wait no, that wasn't possible. You could only put in your own name...........right?
These are the thoughts going through her head as she walks to her next divination lesson......or at least, tries to. All the corridors are starting to look indiscernible from each other, feeling like she's walking through a maze instead of just going to class like a normal person.
Maya nervously fingers the thin chain that hangs around her neck, a gift of sorts given to her by Nandini just before she left. A small, heart-shaped locket of gold, imbued with angel blood that supposedly "protects her", from who or what neither Magnus or her mother specified. She's been instructed to never take it off, no matter the circumstances, otherwise.......well, none of them went into further detail.
Their secrecy confuses her to no end. As far as Maya can tell, she's nobody in the Shadow or Wizarding world. Not many people even know of her existence, the few that do choosing to either ignore or treat her like any normal person. But both of her parents - well, one parent and a very concerned uncle - are acting like someone is after her, trying to hurt her. Like she's an eighty-year-old mafia boss with too many enemies to count.
What exactly are they hiding?
"Ow!"
Maya falls back on the ground, her materials spilling out of her black bag and scattering out onto the stone. She hisses at the sheer force of the impact, as a pale hand extends toward her.
"Sorry, erm - do you need any help?"
Cedric Diggory helps her to her feet, Maya shooting him a grateful look. She flicks her wand in a sweeping motion, the textbooks and quills levitating for a brief second before dropping neatly into her bag.
"I'm fine, thank you" she replies, politely, "I really should've watched where I was going-"
"It's not your fault, accidents happen" he replies, with a friendly smile, which then turns into a frown, "Not to be rude, but aren't you - um - supposed to be in class right now?"
"About that..." replies Maya, with a nervous laugh, "I....don't exactly know where the Divination classroom is"
Cedric chuckles, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.
"Oh, you're new here, I forgot" he laughs, "Um, just go all the way down the corridor over there - " he points to her left " - and take a right turn. The spiral staircase is what will take you to the classroom"
"Oh, um, thanks!" Maya replies, with a smile.
"Also" he adds, as she leaves, "Don't believe all of Professor Trelawney's bullshit. Every year, she likes to scare us by "predicting" that one student will die before the year ends-"
"What?!" sputters out Maya, stupefied.
"Don't question it. Last year it was me who she picked, and I still exist, so...."
"That's quite an interesting way to teach.."
"Luckily, I dropped Divination in fifth year," adds Cedric, a tinge of relief in his tone, "But it was quite an experience, to say the least. Just be careful with what you say to her. She tends to change her predictions to ghastly deaths if you piss her off
"Good to know" replies Maya, warily, now regretting ever taking Divination.
This is not at all what she signed up for.
The classroom is still absent of their professor when Maya gets there. The curtains are all closed; the circular room is bathed in a dim reddish light cast by the many lamps, which are all draped with scarves and shawls. She sits down between two Gryffindor girls, which she vaguely remembers Hermione pointing her out to on the first day; Parvati Patel, with a penchant for gossip and a sleek black plait falling down her left shoulder, and Lavender Brown, with curly brown hair and an almost over-enthusiastic demeanor.
They give her a perfunctory nod, as she sits down, going back to what she now hears as the rumors of a student-teacher affair. Maya isn't offended by their lack of attention - in fact, she prefers it. It's a relief not to have a pair of eyes watching her every move. Waiting for her to fail.
"Good afternoon, my children"
Professor Trelawney's lilting voice wavers around the room, the chatter ceasing as soon as everyone catches sight of her, swathed in numerous gauzy shawls and beaded, gaudy necklaces. She reminds Maya of an oversized beetle, dark eyes magnified by huge, wire-rimmed spectacles.
"I apologize for my late arrival, the inner eye has been troubling me of late. Nevertheless, let us commence the lesson. We will continue with the study of our birth charts. Please open your books to page 79-"
Divination, as Maya soon learns, is a very arcane subject. Her head spins while trying to decipher the star chart that's laid out in front of her, numerous indecipherable symbols and markings laid about the piece of navy-blue paper. Parvati and Lavender gloss over theirs with a keen eye, sighing and fretting at the omens that don't suit them. Trelawney makes rounds about the room, occasionally dropping in to check on a student's chart with a disapproving tut.
"My dear..." she stops, suddenly, at their table, looking directly at Maya "Hand me your birth chart for a second..."
Maya does as she instructs, flushing with embarrassment at how many spelling mistakes she's made when trying to fill it out to the best of her ability. Trelawney mutters something to herself, eyebrows raising once, twice as she looks it over, at one point, a gasp even escaping her lips at one point. She eventually hands it back to Maya with a grave look on her face, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"It seems that your inner eye is fogged over today, young lady," she recites, ominously, "That's the only way what I foresaw on your chart would make any sense......"
She trails off, looking out of the window as Parvati shoots Maya a questioning look. She shrugs, not having a clue about the meaning of anything that's coming out of Trelawney's mouth.
"Stay after class, will you?" orders Professor Trelawney, swallowing nervously, "There are some urgent matters we need to discuss..."
Lavender gasps as soon as she walks away, snatching Maya's chart out of her hand before she can even protest.
"Sweet Merlin!" exclaims Parvati, as her dark-brown eyes fill with shock, "I can't believe it!"
"What? What's wrong?" questions Maya, starting to feel a little panicked.
"Your chart...."
"What about my chart?"
"H-half of it is filled with death omens!!"
"Oh come off of it, Lavender" exclaims Hannah Abbott, sitting at the table next to them, "That can't be true. Besides, we all know that Trelawney's rubbish at predictions anyway-"
"That's not true!" insists Parvati, eyes wide, "Last year, she predicted that my bunny rabbit would die, and it did!-"
"That was a freak accident, come on!" insists Susan Bones, rolling her eyes.
Parvati and Lavender both huff, turning back to face Maya, who has a lightly amused look on her face, not believing a word of this death omen rubbish. People like Trelawney are looked down upon in the warlock community, perceived as being money-hungry, and their predictions are usually very, very inaccurate.
"It's just a foretelling, I don't know why you're taking it so seriously-"
"Divination is serious business, Maya" interjects Parvati, looking very concerned, "You should never let these things slide, especially in your case..."
Her and Lavender share a look, lapsing off into chatter as Maya sighs, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. Part of her brushes off the predictions, years of advice and nonchalance backing up the fact that she shouldn't let it get to her head. After all, nothing on paper proves that they are correct, that something actually is going to happen to her.
But that doesn't explain why Nandini and Magnus are acting the way they are. A special necklace, constant warnings, clear hesitation, it's almost like they knew about these predictions. That bad things are going to happen to her very soon.
Is that why they sent her to Hogwarts, so they could keep her out of danger?
But what danger could she possibly be in?
Class soon wraps up, everyone else trudging outside to the crisp evening ahead of them. Maya slings her back back over her shoulder, reluctantly walking over to Trelawney's desk to see what the Professor has in store for her.
"Sage leaf tea often helps clear the mind," explains the older woman, pouring out a cup for Maya. Her face is one of agitation, the contents of Maya's birth chart deeply disturbing her, "People like you, Ms. Rajesh, often have trouble discerning their worries from their visions."
Maya nods, not really knowing the point of this conversation. The last thing she wants to spend her Thursday evening doing is being stuck in a boring conversation with her divination teacher, who seems to have a penchant for death predictions.
"Professor, you said you wanted to talk to me about my birth chart?" she questions, wanting to get straight to the point.
"Ah, yes" interjects Trelawney, evidently remembering the cause of this little encounter, "What I saw was very....grim."
"What do you mean?"
Something suddenly changes, in Professor Trelawney's demeanour. Her back (which is facing Maya), become almost rigidly straight, hands themselves starting to tremble.
Trelawney suddenly turns around, eyes rolled back in her head as the sage-leaf tea crashes to the floor in a steaming puddle. Her movements seem as though they're being controlled by someone else, rigid, jerky, and as Maya backs away, almost stumbling into a velvet pouffe, a sound somewhere between a growl and a gasp leaves her lips.
"P-professor?"
"Dark times are coming for you, Maya Rajesh" she hisses, voice sounding guttural, unnatural, nothing like her usual lofty tones, "The now whom you have not yet seen will soon rise, and your happiness will fall along with it. Three of those you care about the most will perish, one by one-"
"Professor, what are you talking about?" exclaims Maya, voice almost hysterical with fear.
"Do not trust anyone except those pure of heart around you, for in time, they will be the traitors who feed you to the demons. Soon, you will be forced to make a choice, between what is right, and what you desire. Choose wisely.......for you will never be able to turn back"
Maya's heart is pounding in her chest, almost running backwards as she bumps into the door. She fumbles with the latch, finally pushing open the door and running outside, ignoring the looks she gets as Trelawney's voice calls after her.
"Wait, dear, don't you want to talk about your birth chart?"
She doesn't stick around to find out.
Maya,
Things haven't been the same without you back here in New York. Raj is an asshole, as usual. Jace crashed the car into a pole - don't ask me why....or even how that happened. Anyway, Mom gave him an earful, and blamed me for even letting him drive underage in the first place.
Alec misses you the most out of all of us, even though he won't admit it. He's been getting the most dangerous missions lately, which reminds me. Demon attacks have been on the rise ever since you left. Eleven mundanes have died. The clave is trying to tie them to the warlock rebellion in France, but we all know how that's going to go.
I hope you're not
wreaking havoc at Hogwarts. From what I heard, there's some sort of tournament this year between three schools. What's the deal with the fourth champion? Did Harry Potter actually enter underage? Jace reckons that you'd be one of the people to try and enter underage, but we both know you're not that stupid.
Have you made any new friends? Or gotten it on with any hot British wizards? Alec thinks the last thing you'd do is date.....but come on. A new school, a fresh start, a place where no one knows who you are. I know there has to be at least one guy on your mind.....unless it's a professor. EW. I want to hear EVERYTHING when you get back for winter break, do you hear me?
Anyway, I'm sorry this is so short. We both know I'm shitty at writing letters. Seriously, why can't they make the castle cellphone-friendly? Stay safe, stay out of trouble and don't lose your sparkle.
- xx, Izzy
Maya manages a small smile at the letter, a swoop of relief going through her chest at the fact that her best friend hasn't forgotten about her. It doesn't undo the knot in her stomach, tangled with the fear of whatever it was that happened to Professor Trelawney just a mere three hours ago.
"Three of those you care about the most will perish, one by one..."
Out of sheer horror, three names pop into her head.
Alec. Isabelle. Jace.
No.
Absolutely not.
Unless...
There's no way Trelawney could have actually predicted what's in store for her. True seers are very, very rare, the last known one being over a century ago. Besides, everyone says she's a load of tosh. Nothing will ever come true.....right?
One thing is for sure. In terms of her goals for this school year, death predictions definitely weren't on the list.
Chapter 7: Chapter 7
Chapter Text
𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
THE LAST PLACE DRACO MALFOY EXPECTS to find Maya Rajesh is at the Owlery.
Her sillhouette is the only thing visible in the semidarkness, the soft scratching of a quill indicating her purpose here. He seems to have a bad habit of running into her, Draco thinks to himself, chills running up his spine at the words that leave her lips next.
"If you're going to stalk me, at least learn to do it right"
He raises an eyebrow, swallowing the fear in his throat as he takes a few steps forward.
"First of all, I'm not stalking you-"
"Sure.."
"I just happened to be here to send off a letter. What are you doing here?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
Her snark cuts deep, for some reason. Draco is suddenly angry at her. How do people tolerate Maya Rajesh, someone so petulant and disarming? He doubts he's seen her smile once in the short weeks that school has commenced. She always hangs around Granger and Potter, probably planning world domination along with them.
Draco really wouldn't put anything past her.
Then he remembers their agreement, and all venomous thoughts fall away.
"How's Diana?" he questions, as she sighs, turning around to face him, "Or have you forgotten about our deal already?"
"You know what? How about you go ahead and shove it up your-"
"Is everything that comes out of your mouth poisonous, or are you just like that with me?"
"What do you think?"
Draco sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose to keep his temper.
"You still haven't answered my question yet"
She fiddles with the hem of her crimson sweater, black skirt swaying in the breeze that ruffles his hair.
"If you must know, she's fine. The Hufflepuffs mostly just ignore her, though some of them have made an effort to be civil. Diana gets through her classes well. She's a lot better at Arithmancy than I will ever be -"
"And you're not mistreating her?"
She looks very shocked, for a second, expression morphing into one of disgust.
"Do you really think that low of me?"
"I'm not going to answer that"
She rolls her eyes, grip loosening against the railing behind her.
"Well, if you're done with this absolutely scintillating conversation, then I'm leaving. Curfew's in fifteen minutes, and I'd rather not be caught out of bed by Filch-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know" replies Draco, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "Wouldn't want to tarnish the goody-two-shoes image you have going on."
She gives him a sarcastic grin.
"I see you've finally caught on"
"Whatever"
"Oh, and Malfoy?" she questions, in a faux sweet voice.
Maya Rajesh steps closer to him for a brief second. At this proximity, he's able to smell her pomegranate shampoo, see the dark tint of black in her navy eyes that makes her look, if only for a moment, like a threat.
"The next time you even think about spilling a word of what you saw that night," she continues, the tone of her voice becoming terrifyingly icy, "Keep in mind that I know ten different ways to stab you with a quill. Lethally. And if you don't want to die at fourteen, I suggest you keep your mouth shut."
Draco scoffs as she leaves, her petite figure making it's way down the stairs before disappearing completely out of sight. A nervous shudder runs down his spine at the thought of what could possibly happen if she went through with her threat. Maya Rajesh may be part-firecracker, but she's not crazy enough to actually impale him-
Right?
"So Trelawney just went completely psycho on you for no reason?" asks Diana, incredulously, as they walk to their lessons.
Even though the younger Malfoy is in the year below Maya, their schedules coincidentally align after lunch on Thursdays, making it easier for them to walk to their seperate classes together. Contrary to what you might think, it's not completely because of whatever agreement she naively made with Malfoy. Maya actually enjoys Diana's presence in her life. Something about her bubbly, cheerful personality is hard to resist, like a walking ray of sunshine.
It isn't so hard to believe why she's been sorted into Hufflepuff.
"I know it sounds crazy," replies Maya, nervously rubbing her arms, "But there's no other way to describe it. One second she's stirring the tea, the next, acting like she's from The Exorcist"
"What's that?"
"Munda - Muggle horror movie. It's famous for the scene where the possessed girl turns her head three-hundred-and-sixty degrees."
"Ugh," grimaces Diana, shuddering as she paints a mental picture in her head, "That must've been quite a shock"
"It was," replies Maya, looking down at the ground, "W-what if - what if what she said actually comes true? Could Professor Trelawney have predicted something?"
"I doubt it," answers Diana, looking skeptical, "She uses her ancestry as a form of credibility. And Draco's always saying that-"
"Wait, you two have started talking again?"
Diana sheepishly looks down at the ground, confirming Maya's suspicions.
"Not in public - don't look at me like that!!"
Maya looks away, cheeks flushed.
"What do you mean?"
Diana sighs, exasperated.
"He told me that even though it's a disappointment that I'm in Hufflepuff, I couldn't exactly control what happened. And although our parents probably aren't going to forgive me for a while, it doesn't change the fact that I'll always be his somewhat annoying little sister-"
Maya rolls her eyes at this.
"Though I'd probably say he's the more irritating one."
Tell me about it, goes her mind, That guy has ZERO chill.
"You know I'm not going to treat you any differently, right?" states Maya, suddenly, "Since you're a Malfoy in Hufflepuff? Trust me, I know exactly what it feels like to not belong-"
"You do?" questions Diana, surprised.
Maya sighs.
"Look, back in New York, I've dealt with my fair share of discrimination. I mean, what else do you expect with a single mother who's a Shadowhunter?-"
"Your mother is a Shadowhunter?!"
"Long story. Anyway, don't think too much about it, okay? From what I've experienced, people - especially kids - are scared of what's different. And honestly? You shouldn't be giving a flying fuck about what they think. You're here for a reason, and even though things haven't turned out like you expected, it's up to you to own it"
Diana looks at her in surprise, a faint pink tint covering her pale skin. Maya gives her a questioning smile, reaching back and adjusting the strands falling out from her ponytail.
"What?"
"That....actually isn't horrible advice"
Needless to say, Maya is very, very late for defense against the dark arts.
Their teacher thankfully isn't here yet; She slides into a seat in the back and opens up her copy of "The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection", and wait, usnusually quiet. Soon she heard Moody’s distinctive clunking footsteps coming down the corridor, and he enters the room, looking as strange and frightening as ever. They can all just see his clawed, wooden foot protruding from underneath his robes.
“You can put those away,” he growls, stomping over to his desk and sitting down, “those books. You won’t need them.”
They return the books to their bags, Ron looking excited. Moody takes out a register, shakes his long mane of grizzled gray hair out of his twisted and scarred face, and begins to call out names, his normal eye moving steadily down the list while his magical eye swivels around, fixing upon each student as he or she answers.
“Right then,” he says, as the last person declares themselves present, “I’ve had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you’ve had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures — you’ve covered boggarts, Red Caps, hinkypunks, grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?”
Does accidentally running into one count? Maya thinks to herself, shuddering as she remembered the time Magnus had gone to Jade Wolf, a hub for New York's werewolves disguised as a Chinese restaurant - which also, incidentally, serves pretty good chow mein.
There is a general murmur of assent.
“But you’re behind — very behind — on dealing with curses,”
Moody looks directly at her as the words leave his lips, an inexplicable chill going down her spine at his gaze. Maya doesn't know why she suddenly feels so uneasy, unconsciously shifting in her seat. His magical eye isn't spinning for once - the electric blue orb is looking directly at her. She gulps, his x-raying gaze feeling as though he's trying to unpack her mind, become privy to secrets only she has ever been allowed to know.
Suddenly, something feels off.
“So I’m here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I’ve got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark —”
“What, aren’t you staying?” Ron blurts out.
Moody’s magical eye spins around to stare at Ron; Ron looks extremely apprehensive, but after a moment Moody smiles — the first time Maya has seen him do so. The effect makes his heavily scarred face look more twisted and contorted than ever, but it's nevertheless good to know that he ever does anything as friendly as smile. Ron looks deeply relieved.
“You’ll be Arthur Weasley’s son, eh?” Moody says. “Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago. . . . Yeah, I’m staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore. . . . One year, and then back to my quiet retirement.”
He gives a harsh laugh and then claps his gnarled hands together.
“So — straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I’m supposed to teach you countercurses and leave it at that. I’m not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you’re in the sixth year. You’re not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then. But Professor Dumbledore’s got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you’re up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you’ve never seen? A wizard who’s about to put an illegal curse on you isn’t going to tell you what he’s about to do. He’s not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to put that away, Miss Brown, when I’m talking.”
Lavender jumps, blushing. She's been showing Parvati her completed horoscope under the desk. Apparently, Moody’s magical eye can see through solid wood, as well as out of the back of his head.
Which does nothing to calm her nerves about their strange new teacher.
“So . . . do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by wizarding law?”
Several hands rise tentatively into the air, including Ron’s and Hermione’s. Moody points at Ron, though his magical eye is still fixed on Lavender.
“Er,” says Ron tentatively, “my dad told me about one. . . . Is it called the Imperius Curse, or something?”
The name rings a faint bell in her head, though clearly not a good one, considering the sick feeling in her stomach that arises with it.
“Ah, yes,” says Moody appreciatively. “Your father would know that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse.”
Moody gets heavily to his mismatched feet, opens his desk drawer, and takes out a glass jar. Three large black spiders are scuttling around inside it. Maya sees Ron recoil slightly at the sight — she remembers that he has a fear of spiders. Moody reaches into the jar, catches one of the spiders, and holds it in the palm of his hand, so that they can all see it. He then points his wand at it and mutters, “Imperio!”
The spider leaps from Moody’s hand on a fine thread of silk and begins to swing backward and forward as though on a trapeze. It stretches out its legs rigidly, then backflips, breaking the thread and landing on the desk, where it begins to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerks his wand, and the spider rises onto two of its hind legs and goes into what is unmistakably a tap dance. Everyone's laughing — everyone except Maya.
She squeezes her eyes shut, slumping against the desk while her hands cover her face. It's like a switch has suddenly flipped inside her - her heartbeat is so loud that she's sure everyone can hear the thundering inside her chest. She swallows, to calm the sudden dryness in her mouth, a cold, clammy sweat forming on her skin as she runs a suddenly trembling hand through her hair, completely petrified at the sudden crack in her facade. Maya doesn't know why she's reacting like this to something so small and insignificant - almost like a low-grade anxiety attack that's triggered by a spider of all thing. All she can perceive is the strong urge for it to stop, for Moody to put down his wand, for the spider to go back into his pocket.
“Think it’s funny, do you?” growls their teacher. “You’d like it, would you, if I did it to you?”
The laughter dies away almost instantly.
“Total control,” says Moody quietly as the spider balls itself up and began to roll over and over. “I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself down one of your throats . . .” Ron gives an involuntary shudder.
Maya finally manages the courage to sit back up, hands still covering part of her face. Her skin is glazed with sweat, and she can feel the stares at her hands, which still bear traces of the nervous tremors that plagued them moments ago.
“Years back, there were a lot of witches and wizards being controlled by the Imperius Curse,” says Moody, and Maya knows he's talking about the days in which Voldemort was all-powerful. “Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. “The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I’ll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not everyone’s got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” he barks, and everyone jumps.
Maya suddenly wishes she never, ever signed up for Defense Against The Dark Arts.
Moody picks up the somersaulting spider and throws it back into the jar.
“Anyone else know one? Another illegal curse?”
Hermione’s hand flies into the air again and so, to Maya’s surprise, so does Neville’s. The only class in which Neville usually volunteers information was Herbology, which is easily his best subject. Neville looks surprised at his own daring.
“Yes?” says Moody, his magical eye rolling right over to fix on Neville.
“There’s one — the Cruciatus Curse,” says Neville in a small but distinct voice. Maya's heart sinks. Moody is looking very intently at Neville, this time with both eyes.
“Your name’s Longbottom?” he says, his magical eye swooping down to check the register again.
Neville nods nervously, but Moody makes no further inquiries. Turning back to the class at large, he reaches into the jar for the next spider and places it upon the desktop, where it remains, motionless, apparently too scared to move.
“The Cruciatus Curse,” says Moody. “Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea,” he saus, pointing his wand at the spider. “Engorgio!”
The spider swells. It is now larger than a tarantula. Abandoning all pretense, Ron pushes his chair backward, as far away from Moody’s desk as possible. Moody raises his wand again. He points it at the spider, and mutters, “Crucio!”
At once, the spider’s legs bend in upon its body; it rolls over and begins to twitch horribly, rocking from side to side. No sound comes from it, but Maya is sure that if it can speak, screams would be ringing throughout the room. Moody does not remove his wand, and the spider starts to shudder and jerk more violently —
Maya doesn't know what comes over her in the next few moments, her stomach lurching violently, feeling like she's going to vomit any second.
"Stop it!" she half-screams, shrilly, "Just stop, please!!"
The room lapses into pin-drop silence, and she can feel Hermione's horrified stare in her direction. “Reducio,” Moody mutters, and the spider shrinks back to its proper size. He puts it back into the jar.
“Pain,” says Moody softly. “You don’t need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse. . . . That one was very popular once too."
This is sick, spits her mind, venomously, This is so fucking sick.
He looks around them, eyes fixing on her in particular.
"And I suppose you, Miss Rajesh, will be able to tell us the last one?"
Maya gulps, feeling herself break out into a cold sweat once more. Her fists clench violently, fingernails digging into her palms and probably leaving marks, but she couldn't care less about breaking skin right now. Something catches in her throat, some impediment telling her to contain her speech, push down the meek 'yes' that threatens to leave her throat.
Her voice is a whisper when she finally works up the courage to speak.
"No"
Moody laughs, clearly thinking that she made a mistake.
"I'm sorry?"
Maya clears her throat, standing up and placing her hands on her desk with more confidence than she originally planned.
"I said no. I don't want to tell you the answer"
He looks at her for a moment, expressionless as people start to whisper around them.
What are you doing?!?! screams the rational part of her brain You need to keep your head down, not invite trouble!!
Maya knows this by heart; it's what's been ingrained into her psyche all this time. In the Shadow world, damn the righteous ways to uphold "justice" as they call it, whistle-blowing is what gets you killed. And in Nandini's case, as Maya has been forced to observe, drawing attention to yourself is the last thing you want to do, especially if you're already in hot water with the clave. And in a world where the cells of your blood determine everything, it's practically a death sentence to make any type of noise.
She's surprised the clave hasn't eradicated her yet.
Moody chuckles, a hint of menace in his tone.
"Well, I don't know what you were taught in America, but in my class, you won't have that option"
Looking back, she thinks the next few moments were fueled by pure insanity.
"Then I guess I don't want to be in your class anymore"
Maya slides out of her seat, slinging her schoolbag over her shoulder with finality. Her shoes - plain black mary janes that she detests beyond belief - click rapidly against the floor, falling into line with the shouts that ring after her as she exits the room.
She knows the impression she's suddenly made on everyone.
And that it will undoubtedly get her in trouble later.
But oddly, her own plight is the farthest thing from her mind.
Instead, her insides are twisted into knots with suspicion, fear.
Something is very, very wrong with Mad-Eye Moody.
And it definitely doesn't have anything to do with his wooden leg.
Chapter 8: Chapter 8
Chapter Text
𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
STRANGELY, MOODY NEVER PUNISHES HER.
If anything, he seems to be intrigued. Her little stunt in class may have shattered the image she wanted to project to her classmates, but she's earned the respect of her professor - at least, that's what Maya thinks. He doesn't really bother her during classes anymore, just watches her with a certain look in his eye that she can't place.
She doesn't know whether to be on edge or act normal.
Maya doesn't usually like attention unless it's from certain people, namely her close friends and family, but lo and behold, look what she did to herself. Now everyone whispers about her in the halls, eyes darting away as soon as she realizes that they've noticed. Most of them are just odd, curious mutterings about who she is, where she's from. But some of them hit where it hurts, especially from Pansy Parkinson and the Slytherin girls. She tries to ignore the looks they give her, the venom that spews from their lips about her single, spinster mother - thankfully, they're unaware of the fact that she's a Shadowhunter.
Anyway, that's the last thing that matters to her right now.
Point being, Maya's procrastinated again, this time, with a Potions essay. She's always tried to stay on top of her game when it comes to her schoolwork, usually managing to balance school and her social life decently. But now, with this prophecy thing, Malfoy, and all that drama with Harry being the fourth champion, her mind has been elsewhere recently.
Get your priorities straight, she tells herself, sternly, School comes first, always.
"Bloody hell," mutters Diana, sliding into the seat next to her, "It's like they have three brain cells"
"Who?", questions Maya, not looking up from her essay. She dips her quill into the ink as Diana takes out some of her books, returning it to her parchment just as a shrill, high-pitched giggle rings throughout the room.
Diana growls in frustration, snapping the quill in her hand as she sighs.
"I take it Viktor Krum's decided to pay the library a visit, then?"
She spots the student in question drifting through a stack of books near the Herbology section. A gaggle of sixth and fourth years hover anear him, cheeks flushed as unintelligible chatter pours from their lips. One of them is reapplying copious amounts of glossy pink lipstick - the kind that Maya hates because of how easily it smears - her Bulgaria sweater wrapped enticingly around her narrow hips.
"They're everywhere" complains the blonde, rifling through her Arithmancy textbook, "I heard that Tracey Davies was planning to slip him a love potion"
"How do they even find him attractive?" mutters Maya, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.
"You don't?"
"Ew, no. He looks like an overgrown eagle."
Diana snorts, managing to cover it up before Krum glances their way.
"If you don't mind me asking, what is your type, then?"
Maya raises her eyebrows, peering over her essay to meet the cerulean eyes of her friend.
"You mean if I prefer girls or boys?"
Diana blushes.
"Pretty much"
Maya sighs.
"Well, I haven't really......dated, but for now I'd say guys"
"Wait, you've never had a boyfriend?"
Maya laughs.
"Don't you think it's a little early for that? I'm not even fourteen yet"
Diana shrugs.
"I dunno. I had my first "boyfriend" when I was six.......though you couldn't exactly call it a relationship if we never did anything besides play Quidditch together"
"Do you have a crush on anyone, at the moment?"
Diana makes a face.
"I don't know......honestly, I doubt anyone in my year is crush-worthy at all. And besides,, who wants to tie themselves down so early? I want to be able to have fun before I let anyone get a piece of this"
She gestures to herself dramatically as Maya snickers, brushing a strand of stray hair out of her face before going back to finish the last paragraph of her essay. Maya opens her water bottle, twisting off the cap, and taking a deep gulp to quench her thirst.
"What about you?" asks Diana, looking back to her textbook, "Do you fancy anyone? Like, I don't know........my brother?"
Maya's eyes go wide, and she almost spits her water out as Diana snorts. Her friend thumps her on the back, effectively stopping her from choking as she manages to swallow some of the water.
"What the fuck?!" she practically screeches, cheeks blossoming an angry red, "Why would that even cross your mind?"
Diana smirks.
"So it is true"
"What is wrong with you?"
"You act so nervous around him.....is there something going on between you two?"
If only she knew.
Though it's nothing of the sort that Diana's hinting about.
"No. Just no."
Maya doesn't even find him remotely attractive, at least not in the way Diana is suggesting. Sure, he's tall, and rich....okay, fine and looks somewhat decent. But his smug, stuck-up attitude ruins everything for her, especially the prejudice against anyone who isn't a pureblood. He somehow knows exactly how to irritate her, get under her skin, and if it weren't for the deal, she's sure that he'd never be in her life in the first place.
He's not even close to her type.
Right?
"Suuure" drawls Diana, making Maya roll her eyes.
"I'm serious. I don't even like him normally, much less in that way."
"Whatever you say, Gryffindor"
Maya sighs, placing her head in her hands.
"You're not going to let go of this, are you?"
Diana grins wolfishly.
"Never"
On the Saturday before the first task, all students in the third year and above are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade. Hermione drags a begrudging Maya away from the castle, stating that it would do her good to get away from the castle for a bit, and brings her to persuade Harry.
“What about Ron, though?” he says, to Hermione. “Don’t you want to go with him?”
“Oh . . . well . . .” Hermione goes slightly pink. “I thought we might meet up with him in the Three Broomsticks. . . .”
“No,” says Harry flatly.
Maya sighs, running a hand through her hair.
“Oh Harry, this is so stupid —”
He glares at her.
“I’ll come, but I’m not meeting Ron, and I’m wearing my Invisibility Cloak.”
“Oh all right then . . .” Hermione snaps, “but I hate talking to you in that cloak, I never know if I’m looking at you or not.”
A few minutes later, he, Maya, and Hermione set off for Hogsmeade. Admittedly, it's very weird having Harry under the cloak; she doesn't know whether she's talking to him or the ground half the time. Other students walk by, most of them sporting Support Cedric Diggory! badges, but no horrible remarks come his way for a change, and nobody quotes that stupid article Rita Skeeter wrote a while back.
“People keep looking at me now,” says Hermione grumpily as they come out of Honeydukes Sweetshop later, eating large cream-
filled chocolates. “They think I’m talking to myself.”
“Don’t move your lips so much then.” replies Maya, airily.
“Come on, please just take off your cloak for a bit, no one’s going to bother you here.”
“Oh yeah?” says Harry. “Look behind you.”
Rita Skeeter and her photographer friend emerge from the Three Broomsticks pub. Talking in low voices, they pass right by Hermione without looking at her. Harry backs into the wall of Honeydukes to stop Rita Skeeter from hitting him with her crocodile-skin handbag.
There's a moment in which none of them dare to breathe.
When they're gone, Maya says, “She’s staying in the village. I bet she’s coming to watch the first task.”
Harry's face suddenly floods with a wave of molten panic. He doesn't mention this; Maya, Hermione and he haven't discussed what'll happen during the first task, and she has a feeling that he doesn't want to talk about it.
“She’s gone,” says Hermione, looking right through Harry toward the end of the street. “Why don’t we go and have a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, it’s a bit cold, isn’t it? You don’t have to talk to Ron!” she adds irritably, correctly interpreting his silence.
The Three Broomsticks is packed, mainly with Hogwarts students enjoying their free afternoon, but also with a variety of magical people, Maya rarely sees anywhere else. Hogsmeade's the only all-wizard village in Britain, so it's a bit of a haven for creatures like hags, who are not as adept as wizards at disguising themselves. It's very hard to move through crowds in the Invisibility Cloak, in case you accidentally trod on someone, which tends to lead to awkward questions. Maya and Harry edge slowly toward a spare table in the corner while Hermione goes to buy drinks. On his way through the pub, Maya spots Ron, who's sitting with Fred, George, and Lee Jordan. Pulling a venomous-looking Harry away from that particular direction, they finally manage to sit down unnoticed. Hermione joins them a moment later and a butterbeer under Harry's cloak.
She pulls out a notebook in which she's been keeping a record of S.P.E.W. members. Maya sees her, Harry, and Ron's names at the
top of the very short list. It seems a long time ago that they had sat making up these predictions together, and Hermione had
turned up and appointed them secretary and treasurer, and vice-president.
“You know, maybe I should try and get some of the villagers involved in S.P.E.W.,” Hermione says thoughtfully, looking around the pub.
“Yeah, right,” says Harry. He takes a swig of butterbeer under his cloak. “Hermione, when are you going to give up on this spew
stuff?”
Maya smacks the back of his head - at least, what she thinks is the back of his head.
"Sexist much?"
“When house-elves have decent wages and working conditions!” hisses back Hermione. “You know, I’m starting to think it’s time for more
direct action. I wonder how you get into the school kitchens?”
“No idea, ask Fred and George,” says Harry.
Hermione lapses into thoughtful silence, and while Harry drink his butterbeer, Maya starts watching the people in the pub. All of them look
cheerful and relaxed. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot are swapping Chocolate Frog cards at a nearby table; both of them sporting Support Cedric Diggory! badges on their cloaks. Right over by the door are Cho and a large group of her Ravenclaw friends. She isn’t wearing a Cedric badge though - Maya supposes Harry is very pleased with this, considering his more than obvious crush on her.
“Look, it’s Hagrid!” says Hermione, suddenly.
The back of Hagrid’s enormous shaggy head — he's mercifully abandoned his bunches — emerges over the crowd. Maya wonders why she hasn’t spotted him at once, as Hagrid's so large, but standing up, she sees that Hagrid has been leaning low, talking to Professor Moody. Hagrid has his usual enormous tankard in front of him, but Moody's drinking from his hip flask.
What's with him always carrying that thing around? she thinks, suspiciously. Moody told them all during their last Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson that he prefers to prepare his own food and drink at all times, as it's so easy for Dark wizards to poison an unattended cup.
Madam Rosmerta, the pretty landlady, doesn’t seem to think much of this; she's looking askance at Moody as she collects glasses from tables around them. Perhaps she thinks it's an insult to her mulled mead.
“All right, Hermione, Maya?” says Hagrid loudly, approaching their table.
“Hello,” said Hermione, smiling back. Maya greets him with the same.
Moody limps around the table and bends down; Maya thinks he's reading the S.P.E.W. notebook, until he mutters, “Nice cloak, Potter.”
Harry stares at him in amazement. The large chunk missing from Moody’s nose is particularly obvious at a few inches’ distance. Moody grins.
“Can your eye — I mean, can you — ?”
“Yeah, it can see through Invisibility Cloaks,” Moody says quietly. “And it’s come in useful at times, I can tell you.”
His eye flits to Maya for a second and she gulps. For a moment, genuine fear takes over, fear that he knows, about the very thing she's been forced to hide all this time. But he suddenly looks away, breaking the moment, and she's left confused.
Hagrid's beaming down at Harry too. He bends down on the pretext of reading the S.P.E.W notebook and whispers something in his ear. Maya frowns as Harry's expression changes, but she doesn't have time to think over it.
Straightening up, Hagrid says loudly, “Nice ter see yeh, Hermione, Maya” winks, and departs. Moody follows him.
“Why does Hagrid want me to meet him at midnight?” Harry says, very surprised.
“Does he?” said Hermione, looking startled. “I wonder what he’s up to? I don’t know whether you should go, Harry. . . .”
"Yeah, especially after what happened with the cup. The person who sabotaged you could still be out there" agrees Maya, concerned.
"Hagrid's never asked me to come this late," he replies, nonchalantly, "It must be something important"
Maya sighs.
"Harry....are you really not seeing the danger here? I'm not saying that you shouldn't trust Hagrid, but think about it. Is it really safe for you to be out this late, after all that's happened?"
Harry gives her a look.
Suddenly, Hermione's voice chirps up, an idea bright in her head.
"Why don't we all go together?"
Harry's face falls.
"Wait, what?"
"Think about it. If someone decides to attack you, it'll be three against one."
"You think a dark wizard's going to be intimidated by three schoolchildren?"
"It's better than him or her catching you alone."
He turns to her.
"Maya? Thoughts?"
Maya sighs, exasperated.
"As much as I hate to disagree with you. Hermione's right. It's safer for all of us to go together."
Harry looks at her for a moment, swallowing nervously.
"Are you serious?"
Maya raises his eyebrows.
Is he really-
"Unless you're trying to end up dead, I'd say we're your best bet.."
Harry sighs.
"This is not what I signed up for"
"Oh yeah? Well, get used to it."
At half-past eleven that evening, Harry meets them just outside the portrait hole. The common room is still packed with people, mainly the Creevey brothers, who've got hold of some "support Cedric Diggory" badges, and are trying to make them say "support Harry Potter" - so far, all they've done is manage to get the badges stuck on "Potter Stinks" - that it's a miracle no one sees them as they escape.
The grounds are quite dark. Harry walks down the lawn toward the lights shining in Hagrid’s cabin, with Maya and Hermione right behind him, concealed underneath the invisibility cloak. The inside of the enormous Beauxbatons carriage is also lit up; Maya can hear Madame Maxime talking inside as Harry knocks on the front door.
“You there, Harry?” Hagrid whispers, opening the door and looking around.
“Yeah,” says Harry, slipping inside the cabin. Maya and Hermione shuffle after him, finding it a great struggle to not trip over their own feet. “What’s up?”
“Got summat ter show yeh,” says Hagrid.
There's an air of enormous excitement about Hagrid. He's wearing a flower that resembles an oversized artichoke in his buttonhole. It looks as though he's abandoned the use of axle grease, but he has certainly attempted to comb his hair — Maya can see the comb’s broken teeth tangled in it.
“What’re you showing me?” Harry says, warily.
“Come with me, keep quiet, an’ stay out of sight,” says Hagrid. “We won’ take Fang, he won’ like it. . . .”
“Listen, Hagrid, I can’t stay long. . . . I’ve got to be back up at the castle by one o’clock —”
But Hagrid's not listening; he's opening the cabin door and striding off into the night. They all hurry along to follow and find, to Maya's great surprise, that Hagrid was leading him to the Beauxbatons carriage.
“Hagrid, what — ?”
“Shhh!” says Hagrid, and he knocks three times on the door bearing the crossed golden wands.
Madame Maxime opens it. She's wearing a silk shawl wrapped around her massive shoulders. She smiles when she sees Hagrid.
“Ah, ’Agrid . . . it is time?”
“Bong-sewer,” says Hagrid, beaming at her, and holding out a hand to help her down the golden steps.
Maya snickers under her breath, then immediately covers it up, as Harry sends a sharp glance her way.
Madame Maxime closes the door behind her, Hagrid offers her his arm, and they set off around the edge of the paddock containing Madame Maxime’s giant winged horses, with Maya in tow, totally bewildered, running to keep up with them, seeing as she's the one with the shortest legs there. Does Hagrid want to show Harry Madame Maxime? He can see her any old time he wants . . . she isn't exactly hard to miss. . . .
But it seemed that Madame Maxime's in for the same treat as them, because after a while she says playfully, “Wair is it you are taking me, ’Agrid?”
“Yeh’ll enjoy this,” says Hagrid gruffly, “worth seein’, trust me. On’y — don’ go tellin’ anyone I showed yeh, right? Yeh’re not s’posed ter know.”
“Of course not,” says Madame Maxime, fluttering her long black eyelashes.
Maya has to admit, their attempts at flirting with each other are certainly entertaining.
And still, they walk, Maya getting more and more irritated as she jogs along in their wake, checking his watch every now and then. Although she's not exactly an athlete, running around and training at the institute has built up her stamina, but all the sitting around and studying at Hogwarts has certainly brought it down. If they don’t get there soon, she's going to turn around, go straight back to the castle, and leave Hagrid to enjoy his moonlit stroll with Madame Maxime. . . .
But then — when they've walked so far around the perimeter of the forest that the castle and the lake are out of sight — Maya hears something. Men are shouting up ahead . . . then comes a deafening, earsplitting roar. . . .
Hagrid leads Madame Maxime around a clump of trees and comes to a halt. Maya and Hermione hurry up alongside them — for a split second, Maya thinks she's seeing bonfires, and men darting around them — and then her mouth falls open.
Dragons.
"Oh my god" she whispers to Hermione, awestruck.
Four fully grown, enormous, vicious-looking dragons are rearing onto their hind legs inside an enclosure fenced with thick planks of wood, roaring and snorting — torrents of fire are shooting into the dark sky from their open, fanged mouths, fifty feet above the ground on their outstretched necks. There's a silvery-blue one with long, pointed horns, snapping and snarling at the wizards on the ground; a smooth-scaled green one, which is writhing and stamping with all its might; a red one with an odd fringe of fine gold spikes around its face, which is shooting mushroom-shaped fire clouds into the air; and a gigantic black one, more lizard-like than the others, which is nearest to them.
At least thirty wizards, seven or eight to each dragon, are attempting to control them, pulling on the chains connected to heavy leather straps around their necks and legs. Mesmerized, Maya looks up, high above herself, and sees the eyes of the black dragon, with vertical pupils like a cat’s, bulging with either fear or rage, she can’t tell which. . . . It's making a horrible noise, a yowling, screeching scream. . . .
“Keep back there, Hagrid!” yells a wizard near the fence, straining on the chain he's holding. “They can shoot fire at a range of twenty feet, you know! I’ve seen this Horntail do forty!”
“Isn't it beautiful?” said Hagrid softly.
He clearly has a very misplaced sense of attractiveness.
“It’s no good!” yells another wizard. “Stunning Spells, on the count of three!”
She sees each of the dragon keepers pull out their wands
“Stupefy!” they shout in unison, and the Stunning Spells shoot into the darkness like fiery rockets, bursting in showers of stars on
the dragons’ scaly hides —
Maya watches the dragon nearest to them teeter dangerously on its back legs; its jaws stretched wide in a silent howl; its nostrils
are suddenly devoid of flame, though still smoking — then, very slowly, it falls. Several tons of sinewy, scaly-black dragon hit the
ground with a thud that Maya swears make the trees behind them quake.
The dragon keepers lower their wands and walked forward to their fallen charges, each of which is the size of a small hill. They
hurry to tighten the chains and fasten them securely to iron pegs, which they force deep into the ground with their wands.
“Wan’ a closer look?” Hagrid asks Madame Maxime excitedly.
No! screams the rational part of Maya's brain I'll stay right here in safety, thank you very much!
The pair of them move right up to the fence, and Harry follows, quickly slipping under the invisibility cloak with Maya and Hermione. The wizard who warned Hagrid not to come any closer turns and Maya realizes who it is: Charlie Weasley.
“All right, Hagrid?” he pants, coming over to talk. “They should be okay now — we put them out with a Sleeping Draft on the way here, thought it might be better for them to wake up in the dark and the quiet — but, like you saw, they weren’t happy, not happy at all —”
“What breeds you got here, Charlie?” says Hagrid, gazing at the closest dragon, the black one, with something close to reverence.
Maya starts to wonder if he's slightly insane
Its eye are still just open. Maya can see a strip of gleaming yellow beneath its wrinkled black eyelid.
“This is a Hungarian Horntail,” says Charlie. “There’s a Common Welsh Green over there, the smaller one — a Swedish Short-Snout, that blue-gray — and a Chinese Fireball, that’s the red.”
Charlie looks around; Madame Maxime is strolling away around the edge of the enclosure, gazing at the stunned dragons.
“I didn’t know you were bringing her, Hagrid,” Charlie says, frowning. “The champions aren’t supposed to know what’s coming — she’s bound to tell her student, isn’t she?”
“Jus’ thought she’d like ter see ’em,” shrugs Hagrid, still gazing, enraptured, at the dragons.
“Really romantic date, Hagrid,” says Charlie, shaking his head.
Finally, someone with common sense! screams her brain.
“Four . . .” says Hagrid, “so it’s one fer each o’ the champions, is it? What’ve they gotta do — fight ’em?”
“Just get past them, I think,” says Charlie. “We’ll be on hand if it gets nasty, Extinguishing Spells at the ready. They wanted nesting mothers, I don’t know why . . . but I tell you this, I don’t envy the one who gets the Horntail. Vicious thing. Its back end’s as dangerous as its front, look.”
Charlie points toward the Horntail’s tail, and Maya sees long, bronze-colored spikes protruding along it every few inches. Five of Charlie’s fellow keepers stagger up to the Horntail at that moment, carrying a clutch of huge granite-gray eggs between them in a blanket. They place them carefully at the Horntail’s side. Hagrid lets out a moan of longing.
“I’ve got them counted, Hagrid,” says Charlie sternly. Then he said, “How’s Harry?”
“Fine,” said Hagrid. He's still gazing at the eggs.
“Just hope he’s still fine after he’s faced this lot,” says Charlie grimly, looking out over the dragons’ enclosure. “I didn’t dare tell Mum what he’s got to do for the first task; she’s already having kittens about him. . . .”
Charlie imitates his mother’s anxious voice, “ ‘How could they let him enter that tournament, he’s much too young! I thought they were all safe, I thought there was going to be an age limit!’ " She was in floods after that Daily Prophet article about him. " ‘He still cries about his parents! Oh bless him, I never knew!’ "
"What about the Rajesh girl's parents?" questions Hagrid, frowning.
Charlie sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Her mother was beside herself. It was a big mistake, taking her there, what, with the line of work Nandini's in. Anyone could've come to hurt Maya for revenge. Plus, there's the matter of her parentage-"
"What about it?" asks Hagrid
"I'm not allowed to reveal any details - Bane's orders - but let's just say it doesn't bode well for the poor girl. If things go south.......she could very well end up dead"
Hermione gives a little gasp, as Maya freezes.
This is the closest she's ever been to finding out who her real father is.
The moment suddenly breaks, as she feels Harry slip out from underneath the cloak, signaling the rest of them to follow. They've overstayed their welcome - by the looks of it, Charlie's friends are starting to turn suspicious. Maya reluctantly follows Harry and Hermione back to the castle, lagging behind a bit due to the cacophony of thoughts swirling around in her head.
These past three months have brought so many ominous events with them - first the quidditch cup, then Malfoy, then the prophecy, now this?! Maya's starting to wonder about the real reason she's at Hogwarts. As time passes by, it's become more and more clear that something very fishy is going on - and it's centered around her.
No letters have arrived from New York for her, not even from Nandini. Maya suspects that her mother is busy - with what, she's suspicious of, but that doesn't explain the complete silence from her friends. Izzy promised to write every day, Tessa promised to stay in touch, even Magnus hinted that he'd stay in regular contact with her. But there's dead silence on their behalf. And it's come at the worst time for her, because now, she feels more homesick than ever.
Without warning, Maya runa into something very solid. She falls backward, her hair askew, clutching the cloak around herself. A voice nearby says, “Ouch! Who’s there?”
Maya hastily checks that the cloak is covering her and lies very still, staring up at the dark outline of the wizard she's hit. She recognizes the goatee . . . it's Karkaroff.
“Who’s there?” says Karkaroff again, very suspiciously, looking around in the darkness. Maya remains still and silent, though her heart threatens to burst out of her chest.
After a minute or so, Karkaroff seems to decide that he's hit some sort of an animal; he's looking around at waist height, as though expecting to see a dog. Then he creeps back under the cover of the trees and starts to edge forward toward the place where the dragons are.
Very slowly and very carefully, Maya gets to her feet and sets off again as fast as she can without making too much noise, hurrying
through the darkness back toward Hogwarts. She has no doubt whatsoever what Karkaroff is up to. He's sneaked off his ship to try and find out what the first task's going to be. He might even have spotted Hagrid and Madame Maxime heading off around the forest together — they're hardly difficult to spot at a distance . . . and now all Karkaroff has to do is follow the sound of voices, and he, like Madame Maxime, will know what's in store for the champions.
By the looks of it, the only champion who'll be facing the unknown on Tuesday is Cedric.
Maya reaches the castle, slips in through the front doors, and begins to climb the marble stairs; she's very out of breath but didn’t doesn't dare slow down. . . .Filch could be around the corner any second. Her muscles are quite sore and it's a struggle to keep her eyes open, but she keeps her pace until the portrait hole, muttering the password to a very disgruntled Fat Lady and stumbling back to her dormitory.
Oddly, the light is on when she finally opens the door to her room. Hermione is changing into her pajamas, while Diana's standing at the window, reading a letter from home with almost scary precision. Even in her exhausted state, Maya can tell that something's wrong. Her posture is way too stiff, fists clenched with what seems to be a mixture of anger and frustration.
"Di....you okay?" she questions, quietly shutting the door as she takes of her shoes.
A tense "Fine" is the resolute answer she gets, as Hermione heads off to the bathroom. Maya sighs, knowing the Hufflepuff well enough to realize that her response is nothing short of a lie.
"What's wrong?"
She hears a sudden sniffle, as Diana turns around. Her eyes are glazed over with tears, and Maya immediately pulls her into a hug as the younger girl starts to cry, her tears soaking Maya's Gryffindor sweater.
"T-they won't let me go back home"
Her heart pangs.
"Who?"
"Mum and Dad" Diana chokes out, finally stepping back and wiping her tears, "They're having a stupid ball and since I'm in the 'wrong house'. they think I'll embarrass them in front of all the purebloods"
"That's horrible" whispers Maya, shocked, "Do you have anywhere else to stay during the break?"
"Hermione offered to stay with the Weasley's along with her, but that's as good as walking into the lion's den"
She sighs. Diana must notice her worry, because she straightens up and makes an attempt to look decent.
"Don't worry, Maya" she manages a weak smile, "I'll be fine. School's probably the best-"
"You're coming with me"
Diana freezes.
"What?"
"Look, we're all coming back on the 24th. You'll be alone for five days, and there's plenty of space in New York for you. My mom will be more than fine with it, plus, you'll get to meet all my friends - well, three of them anyway."
"But my parents-"
"Screw them" Maya remarks, fiercely, "It's settled. You're going back home with me, and we're going to celebrate in style"
Diana's eyes brighten.
"Y-you'd really do that?"
Maya smiles.
"Of course. What do you think friends are for?"
Chapter 9: Chapter 9
Chapter Text
𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
TO DISTRACT HERSELF FROM NEW EVENTS, Maya decides to go skating, Diana in tow.
The sky is a cloudy gray as they lace up their skates, Maya tugging her sweater around herself due to the moderate chill in the air. Snow paints the edges of the lake, falling in little clumps over the frozen grass. Some is caught in her hair, flakes sprinkled through the messy braids which hand on either side of her face, the bird's nest that is the top of her head hidden underneath a beanie. The cold has reddened her cheeks, as well as the tip of her nose, making Diana let out a snort of laughter as she glances at her friend.
"You look like an elf"
Maya rolls her eyes at the remark, brushing the remaining snow off of her jeans as she stands up, slightly wobbling due to the added height of her skates.
"Shut up"
Diana grasps onto Maya's hand to steady herself, legs awkwardly spasming due to her being rusty with skating.
"If you drop me, I'll kill you" she mutters, resentfully.
Maya snickers.
"Don't worry, darling" she replies, a little mockingly, "I'll make sure nothing harms a hair on your pretty little head"
"Oh, shut it" replies Diana, playfully, as they begin to glide across the ice, following a little behind Maya, "Tell me about your friends from New York."
"The ones we're going to meet over break?"
"Yeah, those"
Maya sighs, getting distracted for a moment.
"Well, first off, there's Isabelle - everyone calls her Izzy. She's a year older than me, super badass, one of the Institute's best fighters. I aspire to be like her when I grow up."
"Wow" replies Diana, with an awestruck chuckle. She almost slams into Maya, suddenly dodging to avoid an oncoming student.
"Total softie on the inside, though. Then there's Alec, her older brother. Pretty serious, uptight, protective of his family..........and also denying the fact that he's gay as fuck"
"Wait, what?"
"Long story. Anyway, no one's figured it out yet, except Izzy and me, of course. Then there's Jace, their adopted brother. He used to be nice as a kid, but puberty turned him into a cocky little shit. Huge ladies man, never seen with the same girl more than twice. Don't worry, he's not going to make a move on you" she adds, seeing Diana's alarmed expression, "....I think"
"What about your parents?"
Maya glances away at this, looking at the forest to gather her thoughts. A few more figures join them on the lake, and she's suddenly overwhelmed with the fact of how ridiculous she must look, haphazardly dressed, with messy hair and a hat that she's had since primary school. Pansy Parkinson especially seems to notice this difference; She turns her nose up at Maya's appearance as she skates past the two of them, the silky strands of her black bob being ruffled by the wind.
Her voice is considerably softer when she speaks.
"It's just me and my mom"
Diana's face falls.
"Maya, I'm so sorry, I didn't know-"
"It's fine" interrupts Maya, her voice turning back to normal, "She's head of defense at The Institute, and her work takes her around the world. But Magnus usually lets me stay with him in case I can't go with her. He's kind of like a parent, in a way, considering he part-raised me after my dad passed when I was four, but a lot less strict"
"Maya, really, I'm so sorry-"
"Diana" interjects Maya, pointedly, "I told you, it's fine. There's no way you would've known, considering I don't exactly go parading it around. Besides......it's kind of fun having a single mom. You get more freedom, none of the drama, and don't need to have any of the awkward puberty conversations.....yet, I know mine's coming soon"
"My parents avoid the topic completely," replies Diana, bemused, "Once I asked them where Draco came from. They told me a hippogriff delivered him"
Maya snorts.
"Classic"
Conversation soon ceases, and Maya drifts apart as Diana tries practicing some of her old moves. Maya's body feels lighter, on the ice, like a ballet dancer raising her arms up in the air. Her skates glide across it seamlessly from years of practice, and unbeknownst to her, people soon start making way for her to stand by and watch.
Moments like these are rare for Maya. Her mind is usually racing in circles over mundane details, and it's in her nature to have an overactive imagination. Sure, it helps her in English and creative writing, but sometimes, everything gets a little too loud. So when she doesn't have to focus on anything except moving her legs, it's easy to feel free, unbothered, so light that it seems like a breeze will topple her over.
Or rather, a person.
Maya crashes face-first into someone's chest, losing her balance as her skates slide backward. A shriek escapes her lips, and her arms fly out, wrapping around the nearest thing she can find to steady herself. Her brain immediately visualizes the sharp crack of her head hitting the ice, the snap of her skull as it fractures, the blood spreading across the glistening surface of the lake.
She'd be passed out in less than a minute.
With horror, Maya realizes that she's holding onto a person, one much, much taller than her, judging by the fact of her lowered eye level. The fabric of his coat feels expensive, her arms wrapped around his shoulders bringing her in just enough proximity to smell mint, and something that feels similar to a green apple.
She looks up.
Bloody hell.
It's Draco fucking Malfoy.
Draco didn't expect to crash into the last person he wants to see at the moment.
In all honesty, he doesn't even want to be here at the Black Lake in freezing weather. But Pansy insisted on dragging him along, to show him off as her boyfriend, no doubt. He's let her assume that they're together, to avoid her constant flirting and suggestive hints, which he had to deal with all of last year. Hell, he's even kissed her a few times, dry, meaningless gestures of the lips that feel more robotic than his night routine. But their relationship doesn't mean anything to him........if you can even call it that.
Seriously, the bloody woman's more clingy than the giant squid.
Her cheeks are flushed, blue eyes wide with what he judges to be shock. Arms loosely wrapped around his shoulders, her waist in his hands, he's dipping her like she's his tango partner. Her hair streams to the surface of the lake. At this distance, he can see the faint outline of a scar just above her right eyebrow, a thin, white line that's hardly noticeable unless you look closely. It oddly makes her face look more symmetrical, intrinsic features all perfectly fitting together like pieces of a puzzle.
He lets go of her waist just as his eyes flit to her lips, which are slightly reddened due to the cold weather.
Bloody hell, what is wrong with him?
"Watch where you're going next time" he snaps, adjusting the collar of his coat as she scowls, pulling away.
Her hair is in two, incredibly messy pigtails, accessorized by a faded grey beanie. Rajesh's clothing is so odd, almost entirely made up of muggle pieces that look as though they should belong to a child. But weirdly, they make her look endearing. Dimple in her left cheek, lashes that brush against the hollows of her cheekbones, cheeks and the tip of her nose reddened from the cold, she looks like a panda. In fact, some could even use the word "cute" to describe the current state of her appearance.
Not him, though.
Definitely not him.
"If I recall" she replies, snarkily crossing her arms over her chest, "You were the one that bumped into me"
"Whatever helps you sleep at night"
She scoffs.
"FYI, Diana's coming to New York with me for winter break"
His eyebrows raise in shock.
"Wait, what?!"
"She didn't tell you?" replies Rajesh, with a derisive snort, "Figures"
"Oh shut up"
"Make me"
Oh, he will.
"And who allowed this?"
"No one. My parents are fine with it, and I'm pretty sure yours don't care"
Ouch.
"Don't act like you know everything. It's unbecoming."
"Unbecoming? Who died and made you Shakespeare?"
She's starting to annoy him more and more by the second.
"When is she coming back?"
"Twenty-fourth, like everyone else"
Well, that's a bit of a relief.
"And I assume you'll be hanging around with Nephilim and Mudblood Riffraff?"
She glares at him so viciously, it feels like she's trying to burn holes into his forehead.
"Insult my friends again and we'll see what happens"
"What're you going to do? Punch me? You're barely five feet tall"
She smiles sadistically.
"But you've sunk low enough for me to reach"
Insufferable blood traitor, he thinks to himself, venomously.
"You two lovebirds done? They're serving hot chocolate at the castle and I don't want to walk back alone."
Both of them turn to find Diana, a knowing look in her eyes as she gazes at the both of them. Her arms are crossed over her red coat, blonde curls slightly ruffled, and it's clear she's been standing there for a while. Blood rushes to his cheeks, and it's all Draco can do to refrain from telling his sister to shut up.
"Y-yeah, I'll be right there" replies Rajesh, shooting him one last glare before leaving. He watches her retreating figure, forcing himself to push down the unfamiliar feeling crawling up from his chest.
"Mate, you're blushing"
Draco doesn't have to turn around to know that it's Blaise who's pointed this fact out.
"It's the cold"
Chapter 10: Chapter 10
Chapter Text
𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
THE DAY OF THE FIRST TASK comes sooner than expected.
Hermione and her wish a pale-looking Harry good luck as they walk down to the area where they'll watch the event. Diana joins them, her canary yellow scarf bright against the grim backdrop of the sky behind them, blonde curls cheerfully bouncing on her shoulders. Maya's chest is tight with anxiety, and her mouth is pressed together in a thin line at what's to come. Hermione bears the same expression if only a little less stressed, considering Diana's suspicion at both of their less-than-positive moods.
"Lighten up, you two!" she replies, cheerfully, nudging their shoulders, oblivious to what she hasn't witnessed yet. Maya and Hermione have decided to keep their knowledge to themselves, for fearing of it getting into the wrong hands. She feels wrong about keeping it from the one person who she actually trusts - not that there's anything wrong with them, but they're a little judgemental when it comes to her decisions.
It seems like hours before Cedric emerges from the tent (after the three of them take their seats in the stands), his yellow-and-black robes billowing in the wind. He's visibly nervous, and her heart drops into her stomach as she realizes that he's facing the Swedish-short snout. The crowd roars and the deafening sound is enough to lapse Maya into silence.
She can't quite recall how exactly the first three champions make it through their tasks, memories distorted and blurred with anxiety. The smell of singed flesh finally jolts her out of her reverie, Diana and her both coughing as the smoke fills their lungs. Hermione is absorbed in "Hogwarts: A History", as usual, only looking up when Harry's name is called.
Oh bloody hell.
His face pales as he sees the crowd, some cheering, some leering at him, Maya part of the former group. She tries to shoot him a reassuring look, but it's proven difficult, given that he's standing with his back to her. And there/s the Horntail, at the other end of the enclosure, crouched low over her clutch of eggs, her wings half-furled, her evil, yellow eyes upon him, a monstrous, scaly, black lizard, thrashing her spiked tail, leaving yard-long gouge marks in the hard ground. The crowd's making a great deal of noise, but whether friendly or not, it's certainly not helping with his nervousness.
His hand shakes as he raises his wand.
“Accio Firebolt!” he shouts.
There's a deafening silence as everyone waits in anticipation.
And then she hears it, speeding through the air behind Harry; he turns and sees his Firebolt hurtling toward him around the edge
of the woods, soaring into the enclosure, and stopping dead in midair beside him, waiting for him to mount. The crowd's mak-
ing even more noise. . . . Bagman is shouting something . . . but Harry looks as though he's not listening at all.
He swings his leg over the broom and kicks off from the ground. Maya watches intently, wondering what on earth he's doing as Harry's figure disappears into the clouds
Is he trying to run for it?
Suddenly, he dives. The Horntail’s head follows him; Maya inhales sharply as he pulls out of the dive just in time; a jet of fire has been released exactly where he would have been had he not swerved away.
“Great Scott, he can fly!” yells Bagman as the crowd shrieks and gasps. “Are you watching this, Mr. Krum?”
Harry soars higher in a circle; the Horntail is still following his progress; its head revolving on its long neck — if he keeps this
up, it'll be nicely dizzy — but better not push it too long, or it'd be breathing fire again —
Harry plummets just as the Horntail opened its mouth, but this time he's less lucky — he misses the flames, but the tail comes whipping up to meet him instead, and as he swerves to the left, one of the long spikes grazes his shoulder, ripping his robes. The crowd screams and groans, but the cut doesn't seem to be deep — Maya still grimaces at the blood pouring from it — . . . . Now he zooms around the back of the Horntail, trying to distract her into giving up her eggs.
The Horntail doesn’t seem to want to take off, she's too protective of her eggs. Though she writhes and twists, furling and unfurling her wings and keeping those fearsome yellow eyes on Harry, she's afraid to move too far from them . . . but he has to
persuade her to do it, or he’s never going to get near them. . . . The trick's to do it carefully, gradually. . . .
He begins to fly, first this way, then the other, not near enough to make her breathe fire to stave him off, but still posing a sufficient threat to ensure she keeps her eyes on him. Her head sways this way and that, watching him out of those vertical pupils, her fangs bared. . . .
He flies higher. The Horntail’s head rises with him, her neck now stretched to its fullest extent, still swaying, like a snake before its charmer. . . .
Harry rises a few more feet, and she lets out a roar of exasperation. He's like a fly to her, a fly she's longing to swat; her tail thrashes again, but he's too high to reach now. . . . She shoots fire into the air, which he dodges. . . . Her jaws open wide.
And then she rears spreading her great, black, leathery wings at last, as wide as those of a small airplane — and Harry dives.
Before the dragon knows what she's done, or where she's disappeared to, he's speeding toward the ground as fast as he can go, towards the eggs now unprotected by her clawed front legs — he's taken his hands off his Firebolt — he seizes the golden egg —
And with a huge spurt of speed, he's off, soaring out over the stands, the heavy egg safely under his uninjured arm, and
it's as though somebody has just turned the volume back up — for the first time, Maya releases the breath she's been holding the entire time, becoming properly aware of the noise of the crowd (including her), which is screaming and applauding as loudly as the Irish
supporters at the World Cup —
“Look at that!” Bagman is yelling. “Will you look at that! Our youngest champion is the quickest to get his egg! Well, this is going to
shorten the odds on Mr. Potter!”
Maya sees the dragon keepers rushing forward to subdue the Horntail, and, over at the entrance to the enclosure, Professor McGonagall, Professor Moody, and Hagrid hurry to meet him, all of them waving him toward them, their smiles evident even from this distance. He flies back over the stands, the noise of the crowd pounding her eardrums, and comes in smoothly to land.
Maya relaxes, as Diana and Hermione cheer, rushing towards Harry to congratulate him.
One task down, another two to go.
She's walking back from the bathroom when she hears strange noises from underneath the quidditch pitch.
Maya ignores them at first, but her instincts soon get the better of her. It sounds like two people are having an argument, their hushed voices getting louder and louder as she tiptoes to hide on the bleachers. There's a thin opening in the wood, in which she can see the two people in question. Karkaroff's face is pale, his dark hair and goatee in disarray as the shorter man in front of him - one word in his voice, and she already recognizes him as Moody - gesticulates violently.
"How could you have confused their names?" growls Moody, livid, "They don't even sound the least bit similar!!"
"I told you, I do not know how it happened. The Potter boy's name wasn't supposed to go in the cup-"
"Then how exactly did it end up in there?"
Wait, what?!
Maya's eyebrows raise in shock.
"I told you, I don't know!! But it doesn't make a difference, the Dark Lord wants both of them-"
"The whole reason for this plan was to weaken her, make her easier to finish off!! And because of your stupid mistake, we have an entirely new problem on our hands!-"
"Just gain her trust!! She's a thirteen-year-old girl, how hard can it be?"
"The bloody witch avoids me like the plague! The Shadowhunter taught her well, clearly thinks something's not right, by the looks of it"
"Well get to know her, then! Bring up her father or some rubbish! You were at Hogwarts during his time, were you not?"
"She'll see through that, considering the marks she's getting in class. The girl's quite a piece of work, a tough nut to crack-"
"Which is essential......unless you want us both to end up dead. You know he doesn't like being displeased."
"I know what I'm doing, you daft prat! It's her life or ours.....and this time, we're on the winning side"
Maya doesn't even have to think to know that they're talking about her.
Something dark is brewing at Hogwarts.
And it's only a matter of time before things boil over.
Chapter 11: Chapter 11
Chapter Text
𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
NEEDLESS TO SAY, HARRY AND RON'S FRIENDSHIP IS NOW MENDED.
The three of them walk to the Owlery that evening so that Harry can send Sirius a letter telling him that he's managed to get past his dragon unscathed. On the way, Harry fills Ron & Maya in on everything Sirius told him about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time they entered the Owlery Ron was saying that they ought to have suspected it all along.
“Fits, doesn’t it?” he says. “Remember what Malfoy said on the train, about his dad being friends with Karkaroff? Now we know where they knew each other. They were probably running around in masks together at the World Cup. . . . I’ll tell you one thing, though, Harry, if it was Karkaroff who put your name in the goblet, he’s going to be feeling really stupid now, isn’t he? Didn’t work, did it? You only got a scratch! Come here — I’ll do it —”
Maya bites her lip, leaning against the railing as she sinks deeper into thought about what she witnessed a few hours ago. Pigwidgeon is so overexcited at the idea of delivery, he's flying around and around Harry’s head, hooting incessantly. Ron snatches Pigwidgeon out of the air and holds him still while Harry attaches the letter to his leg.
“There’s no way any of the other tasks are going to be that dangerous, how could they be?” Ron goes on as he carried Pigwidgeon to the window. “You know what? I reckon you could win this tournament, Harry, I’m serious.”
Maya knows that Ron is only saying this to make up for his behavior of the last few weeks, but Harry appreciates it all the same. Hermione, however, leans against the Owlery wall, folds her arms, and frowns at Ron.
“Harry’s got a long way to go before he finishes this tournament,” she says, seriously. “If that was the first task, I hate to think what’s coming next.”
“Right little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” says Ron. “You and Professor Trelawney should get together sometime.”
Hermione rolls her as Ron throws Pigwidgeon out of the window. Pigwidgeon plummets twelve feet before managing to pull himself back up again; the letter attached to his leg is much longer and heavier than usual — Harry clearly hasn’t been able to resist giving Sirius a blow-by-blow account of exactly how he swerved, circled, and dodged the Horntail. They watch Pigwidgeon disappear into the darkness, and then Ron speaks.
"You okay, Maya?" he questions, concerned, "You've been awfully quiet all evening"
"I'm fine" replies Maya, managing a weak smile, "I'm just a bit tired, I guess. It's been a long day"
"Tell me about it" replies Harry, slinging an arm over Ron's shoulder. Maya chuckles at the mention of their camaraderie but feels Hermione's questioning look. Her smile falls, and she rubs her arms, the cold starting to get to her.
"This came for you" Diana replies, as soon as the girls get back to their dormitory. Hermione sheds her coat, swapping out her slightly heeled ankle boots for a pair of Uggs. The blonde girl hands Maya a letter, stamp haphazardly stuck on. Her name is scripted in familiar, left-slanted handwriting, the rose-and-sandalwood smelling parchment sending a warm feeling through her chest.
Hermione frowns as Maya curls up on the bed, taking off her flats and placing them on the floor.
"Aren't you coming down to the party?" she questions, frowning, as Diana joins her, looking lovely in a sleeveless dress of dark red.
"In a little bit, I just need some time to relax" replies Maya, detachedly, fingers sliding open the flap of the envelope of the letter as they leave.
"I'll save some butterbeer for you!" calls Diana, from down the Hall, as Maya snickers.
She just hopes Diana doesn't actually drink any alcohol, otherwise she'd have an entirely different problem on her hands.
My dear daughter,
I'm sorry it took me so long to write you back, a lot of work and some other stuff came up. Magnus and I miss you so much. We can't wait to see you during the break! Speaking of which, have Diana's parents agreed to let her come to New York? The Malfoys are already a troubled lot - considering how their son behaved with you at the Quidditch world cup - and the last thing we want to do is worsen things for her. Poor girl. I can't imagine what she went through after being sorted into Hufflepuff!!
How are things for you, sweetheart? Professor McGonagall tells me your grades are very consistent - always first or second rank in class. Clearly, one year of homeschooling has immensely paid off. Both of us are very proud of you. I always knew you'd do well at Hogwarts! Are you making friends? I hope no one's giving you trouble, but you know how to stand up for yourself, I'm sure.
Your birthday's coming up soon, on the 7th of December! I can't believe you're turning fourteen already - it seems as though you were learning how to walk just yesterday. I know I can't be there to celebrate it with you this year, but I'm sending my wishes in spirit! Don't worry, you're still getting presents - though I'm not specifying what they are just yet!
As you're a teenager now, you'll have a lot more freedom, as well as responsibility, and I expect that you will use it in the correct manner. People will try to take advantage of the fact that you see the good in people, and I hope you know how to differentiate between flattery and kindness. I'm not trying to scare you, but tensions are rising in the down world
. There are rumors that Valentine could rise again. People who were vehemently against his views in the past are being killed, mysteriously, with no trace of the weapon whatsoever. We aren't in any immediate danger, but the attacks are slowly getting closer to New York, which is where Jocelyn Fairchild was rumored to have disappeared.
As you know, Magnus and I were close to her in the past, just before she vanished. She had a daughter who didn't die in the fire - I can't remember her name - but the girl would be about your age now. Whoever's killing the victims could try and use you as bait to worm information out of Magnus. Even though you're safer in England than if you were here, I urge you to be cautious. Don't be quick to trust anyone. Walk in groups. Keep your head down. Don't attract the wrong kind of attention. And most importantly, never, ever, tell anyone about the fact that you can Change. I'm not trying to scare you, but at this point, your safety is my utmost concern.
Now that the hard part's over, I love you, no matter what. Always remember that. You're always going to be my daughter, no matter what happens or what you do. I trust you to do the right thing, even when it seems impossible. You have your own life, and friends, and I trust that you will use that freedom wisely. Stay out of trouble, stay away from the boys (no matter how tempting they might be), and see you on the 17th!
With love,
Nandini.
Maya's heart lifts as she reads the letter, then slowly sinks down into her stomach by the time she reaches the end. She carefully puts it back into the envelope, sliding it into the nightstand and locking the drawer with a flick of her wand.
She leans back on the bed, groaning into her hands. Maya's brain has short-circuted, completely overwhelmed with new information to even muster the smallest thoughts of her own volition. There's too much in her head, like rabid fishes swimming around in a tank until they crash.
Maya needs a goddamn break.
After redoing her messy bun, and changing into a decent-looking sweater, Maya walks down to the Gryffindor common room, which explodes with cheers and yells again. There are mountains of cakes and flagons of pumpkin juice and butterbeer on every surface; Lee Jordan's let off some Filibuster’s Fireworks, so that the air is thick with stars and sparks; and Dean Thomas, who's very good at drawing, has put up some impressive new banners, most of which depict Harry zooming around the Horntail’s head on his Firebolt, though a couple show Cedric with his head on fire.
Maya helps herself to a little bit of the food; Her nervousness seems to have stolen most of her appetite, and she sits down next to the trio and Diana. The Hufflepuff offers her a butterbeer, and she gladly takes it, feeling a bit of willpower return as the icy cold liquid slides down her throat.
“Blimey, this is heavy,” says Lee Jordan, picking up the golden egg, which Harry has left on a table, and weighing it in his hands.
“Open it, Harry, go on! Let’s just see what’s inside it!”
“He’s supposed to work out the clue on his own,” Hermione says swiftly. “It’s in the tournament rules. . . .”
“I was supposed to work out how to get past the dragon on my own too,” Harry mutters, so only Hermione and Maya can hear him, and the former grins rather guiltily.
“Yeah, go on, Harry, open it!” several people echo.
Lee passes Harry the egg, and he digs his fingernails into the groove that runs all the way around it and prises it open.
It's hollow and completely empty — but the moment Harry opens it, the most horrible noise, a loud and screechy wailing, fills the room. Maya hisses as she covers her ears, the sound incredibly painful to her delicate eardrums. The closest thing she's heard to it has to be nails on a chalkboard, except this has to be that intensified by three.
“Shut it!” Fred bellows, his hands over his ears.
“What was that?” says Seamus Finnigan, staring at the egg as Harry slams it shut again. “Sounded like a banshee. . . . Maybe you’ve got to get past one of those next, Harry!”
Maya's suddenly glad she never even thought of signing up for the tournament.
“It was someone being tortured!” says Neville, who has gone white and spilled sausage rolls all over the floor. “You’re going
to have to fight the Cruciatus Curse!”
“Don’t be a prat, Neville, that’s illegal,” says George. “They wouldn’t use the Cruciatus Curse on the champions. I thought it sounded a bit like Percy singing . . . maybe you’ve got to attack him while he’s in the shower, Harry.”
“Want a jam tart, Hermione?” says Fred. Hermione looks doubtfully at the plate he's offering her. Fred grins.
“It’s all right,” he says. “I haven’t done anything to them. It’s the custard creams you’ve got to watch —”
Maya, who has just bitten into a custard cream, chokes and spits it out. Fred laughs.
“Just my little joke, Maya. . . .”
She glares at him.
"Not funny"
Hermione takes a jam tart. Then she says, “Did you get all this from the kitchens, Fred?”
“Yep,” says Fred, grinning at her. He puts on a high-pitched squeak and imitates a house-elf. “ ‘Anything we can get you, sir, anything at all!’ They’re dead helpful . . . get me a roast ox if I said I was peckish.”
“How do you get in there?” Hermione says, in an innocently casual sort of voice.
“Easy,” says Fred, “concealed door behind a painting of a bowl of fruit. Just tickle the pear, and it giggles and —” He stops and looks suspiciously at her “Why?”
“Nothing,” says Hermione quickly.
“Going to try and lead the house-elves out on strike now, are you?” replies George. “Going to give up all the leaflet stuff and try and stir them up into rebellion?”
Several people chortle. Hermione doesn’t answer. Maya feels a flame of anger stoke within her, with the sexist way Hermione's passions are being brushed aside, her glare deepening even more as she gives George the nastiest look she can muster.
"Looks like someone's angry" he remarks, as Maya opens her mouth, something scathing making its way up her throat.
Just then, Neville causes a slight diversion by turning into a large canary.
“Oh — sorry, Neville!” Fred shouts over all the laughter. “I forgot — it was the custard creams we hexed —”
Within a minute, however, Neville molts, and once his feathers have fallen off, he reappears looking entirely normal. He even joins in laughing. Maya's eyes widen in horror, immediately shooting down to herself, but even after five minutes, no feathers decide to appear.
Maybe it just doesn't work on Nephilim.
“Canary Creams!” Fred shouts to the excitable crowd. “George and I invented them — seven Sickles each, a bargain!”
It's nearly one in the morning when Harry finally goes up to the dormitory with Ron, Neville, Seamus, and Dean, Maya, Diana, and Hermione going to theirs about the same time. Before she pulls the curtains of her four-poster shut, Maya glances at her locked drawer, the letter from her mother still inside. She contemplates writing a reply, an honest one, finally coming clean about everything that's going on in her life.
Hey mom,
I got your letter. Does having an agreement in place with my best friend's jerk brother (who knows about your powers because he walked in on you using them in the middle of the night) count as disobedience? And while I'm at it, Trelawney made a prediction that three people closest to me would die, Moody is acting shady as fuck, and Karkaroff said that my name was meant to go in the cup instead of Harry's. So really, everything is just A-OKAY-
Her mind shuts the possibility down just as she even considers it.
Maya lets the curtains of her four-poster fall shut as she flops onto her bed, not bothering to change into her nightclothes. Her brain is beyond exhausted with the whirlwind of a day she's just had, and she can't even muster the energy to think, let alone write a full reply back to her mother.
This can definitely wait.
The start of December brings wind and sleet to Hogwarts. Drafts slither through the castle, snow pouring in a blizzard outside. Maya is forced to start wearing woolen tights under her skirts to combat the cold, sometimes ditching the piece of clothing for her heavy-duty black jeans, which are barely noticeable when covered with her robes. Most of the teachers don't notice the fact that she's breaking the dress code, the rare odd look from Snape being all the recognition she gets.
Maya wakes up the morning of her fourteenth birthday with a strange feeling in her chest, as though something insignificant has changed within her. The sunlight streams in through the window, and it takes her one look at her alarm clock to realize that she's very, very late for Care Of Magical Creatures. She throws the sheets backward, scrambling to the bathroom and freshening up as best as she can, before slipping into her clothes, her uniform being completely forsaken on this momentous occasion.
Hagrid, she notices, silently slipping in with the rest of her class, is keeping Madame Maxime’s horses well provided with their preferred drink of single-malt whiskey; the fumes wafting from the trough in the corner of their paddock is enough to make the entire Care of Magical Creatures class light-headed. This is unhelpful, as they're still tending the horrible skrewts and need their wits about them.
"Bloody hell!" exclaims Diana, coughing as she bats the fumes away from her face, "You could fill a speakeasy with the number of fumes in this place!"
"And how exactly do you know what a speakeasy is?" questions Maya, suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.
Diana smirks, looking unnervingly like her brother.
"I hear things" she replies, unconvincingly, making Maya's suspicions deepen even further.
“I’m not sure whether they hibernate or not,” Hagrid tells the shivering class in the windy pumpkin patch next lesson. “Thought we’d jus’ try an’ see if they fancied a kip . . . we’ll jus’ settle ’em down in these boxes. . . .”
There are now only ten skrewts left; apparently, their desire to kill one another has not been exercised out of them. Each of them is now approaching six feet in length. Their thick gray armor; their powerful, scuttling legs; their fire-blasting ends; their stings and their suckers, combine to make the skrewts the most repulsive things Maya has ever seen. The class looks dispiritedly at the enormous boxes Hagrid has brought out, all lined with pillows and fluffy blankets.
“We’ll jus’ lead ’em in here,” Hagrid says, “an’ put the lids on, and we’ll see what happens.”
But the skrewts, it transpires, do not hibernate, and do not appreciate being forced into pillow-lined boxes and nailed in. Hagrid's soon yelling, “Don’ panic, now, don’ panic!” while the skrewts rampage around the pumpkin patch, now strewn with the smoldering wreckage of the boxes. Most of the class — Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the lead — flee into Hagrid’s cabin, Diana pulling Maya inside before she can protest.
"Do you want to get fried to death on your birthday?" she hisses, as Maya rolls her eyes.
“Don’ frighten him, now!” Hagrid shouts from outside. Maya looks out the window, eyes widening as she sees Ron and Harry using their wands to shoot jets of fiery sparks at the skrewt, which is advancing menacingly on them, its sting arched, quivering, over its back. “Jus’ try an’ slip the rope ’round his sting, so he won’ hurt any o’ the others!”
"By the angel..." she mutters, face going white.
"Is that your scarf?"
Maya turns around, squinting in the dim light to figure out what object Diana's pointing out. Her eyes latch onto a blue silk shawl, faintly patterned with white daisies, the very same one she wore to combat the cold a few days ago when they all went down for tea with Hagrid. It's also, incidentally, the same day she discovered his rock cakes, which caused her to almost lose a tooth when she tried to bite into them.
Maya supposes that the same thing would've happened had she tried to make them.
Only instead of just losing a tooth, they all would've been sent to the hospital wing to get their stomachs pumped.
Oh well, at least it's better than Magnus's attempts at soup.
Anyway, it's a gift from him that belongs to her mother, a specific Chinese print that isn't available anywhere in the UK or America. Nandini made Maya promise that it would return in the pristine condition that it left in, knowing her daughter's forgetful tendencies all too well. It temporarily cures her homesickness each time she wears it, still decorated in the smell of sandalwood incense and honey that decorates the apartment back in New York.
And the last thing she wants to do is lose it.
Maya slips through the crowd unnoticed, slinking towards the cupboard door the scarf hangs on. She sighs as she realizes that it's above her height level, slowly standing up on her tiptoes as her fingertips brush the fringed edge of the silk.
Just as she begins to grasp it in her hand, a figure suddenly slams into her. Maya shrieks, falling directly against the spinning door; both of them go crashing into the opposite wall of the cupboard in a tangle of limbs. Her head slams into the ground, hair tumbling out of it's bun and sprawling over the oak floors. Maya hisses in pain, feeling a fugue of irritation bubble up as she looks upward, ready to give the person who slammed into her a piece of her mind.
She freezes.
Grey eyes stare back at her, pupils wide with shock. Draco Malfoy looks completely bewildered - which quickly changes to horrified - as she lays under him, too flabbergasted for words. His white-blond hair falls over his forehead, almost tickling the top of Maya's forehead with how long his bangs are. This close, she can see the ring of silvery-blue that surrounds the iris, the way his pale skin appears incredibly irritatingly unblemished. She can feel the heat of his lips over hers, and her unconsciously flit to them, a little surprised at their slight rosiness, tracing the shape of the cupid's bow-
Sweet Raziel, what on earth is she even doing?
She does not find him good-looking at all, not even remotely attractive.
She was not just staring at his lips for no reason.
Her cheeks are not blooming red at the audacity of her current situation.
"What the hell?! Get off of me!"
Ahh, the sweet throes of denial.
Maya's hands shove him backward, doubling back onto her shins as she stands up. Draco Malfoy scowls at her from his place on the floor, the space not big enough for both of them to stand at the same time. She pushes at the door, but finds it firmly locked in place, the sides jammed into the wall with the force of their fall.
Crap.
Malfoy's face turns white as he fumbles for his wand, finding his pockets completely empty. Maya does the same, and her heart sinks as she realizes that both their wands are outside, the last place they need to be in. She can hear the sound of the students filtering out of the cabin, chattering as they head to their next classes, unaware of the fact that the two of them are trapped in the cupboard together.
She is not enjoying this.
She is not enjoying this at all.
"Open, damn it!!" Maya exclaims with frustration, repeatedly kicking the door. It loosens a tiny bit, but still stays firmly locked in place. Draco Malfoy rolls his eyes, standing up as best as he can in the cramped space next to Maya. His arm plants on the wall next to her head for balance, and even as Maya tells herself to ignore it, she can't resist the shiver that jolts up her spine at the action.
"Are you trying to break your leg, or are you just plain stupid?"
Maya scowls.
"You're lucky I don't have my wand, otherwise I'd have hexed you to Edom by now"
"Sure you would" he replies, scoffing.
"Don't test me, Malfoy"
The name rolls off of her tongue like honey with a bitter aftertaste, masking the sharpness of her tone. Maya swallows as she reaches into her back pocket, fingers grasping onto a familiar, double-ended object of adamas, set with glowing crystals that shimmer in the dim light. Malfoy's eyes widen as he catches sight of his, long fingers grasping onto her wrist to slow her down.
"Where the hell did you get that?"
She shakes him off.
"None of your business."
Maya presses her stele to the wood of the door, taking a deep breath before tracing an unlock rune into it, the smell of searing wood starting to emanate through the cupboard. The mark glows once she's done, faintly humming before the door spins, creating a small space in which she can slip through.
Malfoy looks astounded.
"Thank me later" she replies, before he can say anything. Maya slips out of the room, slinging her bag over her shoulder and hooking the scarf off of the stand.
Next time, she's leaving it in her dorm.
Maya dreads double Divination that afternoon; they're still doing star charts and predictions, but now that Harry and Ron are friends once more, the whole thing seems somewhat bearable again. Professor Trelawney, who has been so pleased with the two of them when Harry and Ron were predicting their own horrific deaths, quickly becomes irritated as they snigger through her explanation of the various ways in which Pluto can disrupt everyday life.
“I would think,” she says, in a mystical whisper that does not conceal her obvious annoyance, “that some of us” — she stares very meaningfully at Harry — “might be a little less frivolous had they seen what I have seen during my crystal gazing last night. As I sat here, absorbed in my needlework, the urge to consult the orb overpowered me. I arose, I settled myself before it, and I gazed into its crystalline depths . . . and what do you think I saw gazing back at me?”
“An ugly old bat in outsize specs?” Ron mutters under his breath.
Maya snorts. Harry fights hard to keep his face straight.
“Death, my dears.”
Parvati and Lavender both put their hands over their mouths, looking horrified.
“Yes,” says Professor Trelawney, nodding impressively, “it comes, ever closer, it circles overhead like a vulture, ever lower . . . ever lower over the castle. . . .”
She looks pointedly at Harry, who yawns and stretches, then her eyes suddenly flit to Maya.
"And I am afraid that it concerns you, my dear."
Maya's eyes widen.
"Me?" she questions, disbelievingly
"Yes, you" Trelawney's eyes take on a mystical tone "The fates do not lie, Miss Rajesh; Death is searching for you in particular, I can see his shadows looming over your head. But something is protecting you. . . . I cannot see what, but it is very powerful. Light and dark are colliding in a mishmash of forces, and soon, you will be forced to choose. I am afraid, my dear, that your future is anything if not deadly"
Maya freezes in fear.
“It’d be a bit more impressive if she hadn’t done it about eighty times before,” Harry says as they finally regain the fresh air of the staircase beneath Professor Trelawney’s room. “But if I’d dropped dead every time she’s told me I’m going to, I’d be a medical miracle.”
She manages a weak laugh.
“You’d be a sort of extra-concentrated ghost,” says Ron, chortling, as they pass the Bloody Baron going in the opposite direction, his wide eyes staring sinisterly. “At least we didn’t get homework. I hope Hermione got loads off Professor Vector, I love not working when she is. . . .”
Wherever she is, Maya supposes that Hermione definitely would be handling this situation better than herself if their places were switched.
Mom,
I miss you and Magnus so much. My birthday was interesting at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley sent me a blue sweater with a big 'M' on the front. Hermione got me a huge set of parchment and quills from Flourish and Botts. Harry and Ron got me chocolates from Honeydukes, and Diana got me a copy of "To Kill A Mockingbird"! But the best of all is your present - I still can't believe that I now own a laptop. The case is beautiful, I'm booting it up right now and so far, things are going well!
I hope everything's all right in New York. I read the part about the sudden deaths and it freaked me out! I know you and Magnus have the capabilities to defend yourselves, but I'm still a bit worried. Izzy says she'll give my present once I come back for break......I don't know whether to be scared or excited for what she has planned. Anyway, Diana's parents okayed her coming home with me. I'm starting to get the feeling that they're trying to disown her, but I don't think she knows yet. I have so many things planned for the trip and I can't wait to see everyone!
Love,
Maya.
Nandini smiles brightly as she reads the letter, the steam from her coffee spiraling into swirls in the air. Rain falls outside in heavy sheets, the entire city painted in a gloomy colour, marking the beginning of another winter in New York.
"Bribing her with a laptop? Really?"
She swivels around in her chair, smile fading as soon as she catches sight of Magnus, hair ruffled from running his hands through it all day. His gaze is accusing as Nandini fidgets, knowing the lecture she's about to receive from her longtime friend.
"Magnus, I can't do this right now"
"How long are you going to keep it from her?" he questions, tone gentler this time, "She's fourteen now, and Maya's going to want answers soon."
"I know, I just-"
"You keep saying that you want to protect her, but keeping her in the dark is just cruel, Nandini. Maya needs to know the truth about her father, so she'll have some way of protecting herself from him."
"He's not going to hurt her-" Nandini tries, weakly.
"How do you know that?" questions Magnus, sharply, "She's his only chance at a proper return, what makes you think that he won't burn the world to the ground so he can find her?"
"Hogwarts is safe-"
"Is it? Because Remus told me that there's a chance a spy might be at the school, and Maya could be a target alongside Harry Potter."
Nandini's face pales.
"Did he- Were those his exact words?'
Magnus sighs, putting his coffee down on the counter and placing both hands on her shoulders.
"Nandini, you know I love you, but this isn't fair. If he tries to hurt her, Maya will be completely unarmed - even with her powers. She won't know how to defend herself against him. We could lose her forever if we don't tell her soon."
"I know, Magnus" replies Nandini, suddenly looking worn-down, "You've told me this a million times. I promise, I'll do it soon"
Magnus sighs, removing his hands from her shoulders.
His voice is hard when he speaks.
"That's what you've been saying for the past fourteen years, Nandini"
Chapter 12: Chapter 12
Chapter Text
𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
"POTTER! WEASLEY! WOULD YOU PLEASE PAY ATTENTION?!"
Professor McGonagall’s irritated voice cracks like a whip through the Transfiguration class on Thursday, and Harry and Ron
both jump and look up. It's the end of the lesson; they've finished their work; the guinea fowl they have been changing into guinea pigs have been shut away in a large cage on Professor McGonagall’s desk (Neville’s still has feathers); they've copied down their homework from the blackboard (“Describe, with examples, the ways in which Transforming Spells must be adapted when performing Cross-Species Switches”).
The bell's due to ring at any moment, and Harry and Ron, who had been having a sword fight with a couple of Fred and George’s fake wands at the back of the class - Maya's not even questioning why they're doing this in McGonagall's class, of all places - , look up, Ron holding a tin
parrot and Harry, a rubber haddock.
“Now that Potter and Weasley have been kind enough to act their age,” says Professor McGonagall, with an angry look at the pair of them as the head of Harry’s haddock droops and falls silently to the floor (Maya stifles a laugh at this) — Ron’s parrot’s beak has severed it moments
before — “I have something to say to you all.
“The Yule Ball is approaching — a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above — although you may invite a younger student if you wish —”
Lavender Brown lets out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudges her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fights not to
giggle. They both look around at Harry. Professor McGonagall ignores them, continuing on with her speech.
“Dress robes will be worn,” Professor McGonagall continues, “and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day, finishing
at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then —”
Professor McGonagall stares deliberately around the class.
“The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to — er — let our hair down,” she says, in a disapproving voice.
Lavender giggles harder than ever, with her hand pressed hard against her mouth to stifle the sound. Maya can finally see what's
funny this time: Professor McGonagall, with her hair in a tight bun, looks as though she's never let her hair down in any sense.
“But that does NOT mean,” Professor McGonagall goes on,“that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way.”
The bell rings, and there's the usual scuffle of activity as everyone packs their bags and swings them onto their shoulders. Maya hears Professor McGonagall calling for Harry, but she doesn't register the words. Hermione meets her outside, this being her last class of the day (same going for Maya), walking to the library together.
"Did you hear about the ball?" questions Hermione, eyes uncharacteristically wide with excitement.
"Yeah, McGonagall just told us," she replies, raising her eyebrows at the slight blush on the Gryffindor's cheeks, "What's got you so excited?"
"Oh, nothing" replies Hermione, beaming. Maya chuckles, knowingly. Viktor Krum passes them by in the hall, his crimson, fur-trimmed robes flowing behind his tall, muscled frame. Krum's dark eyes are flitting over Hermione, the action subtle yet appraising enough to hint at romantic interest. His usual gaggle of admirers trots behind him, oblivious to the fact that he only has eyes for one person.
"Krum, huh?" Maya teases, smirking as soon as the blush deepens on her cheeks.
"What?" questions Hermione, innocently, "Stop looking at me like that!"
"He stares at you in the library, you know" she replies, amused by the slight eagerness in the other girl's expression, "When you're not looking."
"H-he does?" replies Hermione, pointedly looking anywhere but Maya.
"You're whipped" declares the other girl, making Hermione roll her eyes.
"I am not"
"I bet he's going to ask you to the ball" replies Maya, amusement filling her voice, as Hermione snorts.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night"
The last week of term becomes increasingly boisterous as it progresses. Rumors about the Yule Ball are flying everywhere, though Maya doesn’t believe half of them — for instance, that Dumbledore has bought eight hundred barrels of mulled mead from Madam Rosmerta. It seems to be fact, however, that he has booked the Weird Sisters. Exactly who or what the Weird Sisters are Maya doesn’t know, never having had access to a wizard’s wireless — yes, they still used radio back here — but she deduces from the wild excitement of those who've grown up listening to the WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network) that they're a very famous musical group.
Kind of like the magical version of One Direction.
Some of the teachers, like little Professor Flitwick, give up trying to teach them much when their minds are so clearly elsewhere; he
allows them to play games - while Maya reads - in his lesson on Wednesday, and spends most of it talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm he had used during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament.
Other teachers are not so generous. Nothing ever deflects Professor Binns, for example, from plowing on through his notes on goblin rebellions — as Binns hadn’t even let his own death stand in the way of continuing to teach, they suppose a small thing like Christmas isn’t going to put him off. It's amazing how he can make even bloody and vicious goblin riots sound as boring as Percy’s cauldron-bottom report. Maya's suddenly glad that she didn't have to deal with three years of this, thankfully being homeschooled ever since she was eleven. Professors McGonagall and Moody keep them working until the very last second of their classes too, and Snape, of course, would no sooner let them play games in class than adopt Harry. Staring nastily around at them all, he informs them that he will be testing them on poison antidotes during the last lesson of the term.
“Evil, he is,” Ron says bitterly that night in the Gryffindor common room. “Springing a test on us on the last day. Ruining the last bit of term with a whole load of studying.”
“Mmm . . . you’re not exactly straining yourself, though, are you?” says Hermione, looking at him over the top of her Potions notes. Ron is busy building a card castle out of his Exploding Snap pack — a much more volatile pastime than with Mundane cards, because of the chance that the whole thing will blow up at any second.
Maya wonders if she should start worrying about his mental health.
“It’s Christmas, Hermione,” says Diana lazily; she's flipping through a glossy Witch Weekly magazine with disinterest. Harry makes a noise of assent, sprawled out on the couch in a starfish position, "Lighten up!"
Hermione ignores Diana and looks severely over at Harry too. “I’d have thought you’d be doing something constructive, Harry, even if you don’ want to learn your antidotes!”
"By the Angel, not this again!" grumbles Maya, burying her face into her hands, curled up into a ball next to Diana.
“Like what?” Harry says as he watches Joey Jenkins of the Cannons belt a Bludger toward a Ballycastle Bats Chaser.
“That egg!” Hermione hisses
“Come on, Hermione, I’ve got till February the twenty-fourth,” Harry says
“But it might take weeks to work it out!” says Hermione. “You’re going to look a real idiot if everyone else knows what the next task is and you don’t!”
“Leave him alone, Hermione, he’s earned a bit of a break,” says Ron, and he places the last two cards on top of the castle and the
whole lot blows up, singeing his eyebrows.
“Nice look, Ron . . . go well with your dress robes, that will.”
It was Fred and George. They sit down at the couch with Harry, Maya, Ron, and Hermione as Ron feels how much damage had been done.
“Ron, can we borrow Pigwidgeon?” George asks.
“No, he’s off delivering a letter,” says Ron. “Why?”
“Because George wants to invite him to the ball,” says Fred sarcastically.
“Because we want to send a letter, you stupid great prat,” says George.
“Who d’you two keep writing to, eh?” says Ron.
“Nose out, Ron, or I’ll burn that for you too,” says Fred, waving his wand threateningly. “So . . . you lot got dates for the ball yet?”
“Nope,” says Ron
“Well, you’d better hurry up, mate, or all the good ones will be gone,” says Fred.
“Who’re you going with, then?” says Ron.
“Angelina,” says Fred promptly, without a trace of embarrassment.
“What?” questions Ron, taken aback. “You’ve already asked her?”
“Good point,” says Fred. He turns his head and calls across the common room, “Oi! Angelina!”
Angelina, who's been chatting with Alicia Spinnet near the fire, looks over at him.
“What?” she calls back.
“Want to come to the ball with me?”
Angelina gives Fred an appraising sort of look.
“All right, then,” she says, and turns back to Alicia, carrying on chatting with a bit of a grin on her face.
“There you go,” says Fred to Harry and Ron, “piece of cake.”
He got to his feet, yawning, and said, “We’d better use a school owl then, George, come on. . . .”
They leave. Ron stops feeling his eyebrows and looks across the smoldering wreck of his card castle at Harry.
“We should get a move on, you know . . . ask someone. He’s right. We don’t want to end up with a pair of trolls.”
Hermione let out a sputter of indignation. Diana glares at them over her magazine. Maya's eyebrows raise.
Wrong move, Ron. Wrong move.
“A pair of . . . what? -" stutters Hermione shocked.
"Excuse me?” contradicts Maya.
“Well — you know,” says Ron, shrugging. “I’d rather go alone than with — with Eloise Midgen, say.”
“Her acne’s loads better lately — and she’s really nice!” interjects Diana.
“Her nose is off-center,” says Ron.
“Oh I see,” Hermione says, bristling. “So basically, you’re going to take the best-looking girl who’ll have you, even if she’s completely horrible?”
“Er — yeah, that sounds about right,” says Ron.
“I’m going to bed,” Hermione snaps, and she swept off toward the girls’ staircase without another word.
Boys, Maya thinks to herself, who needs them?
Diana brings up the question of the ball later when they're getting ready for bed.
"Anyone special in mind?" she asks, wiggling her eyebrows as Maya plaits her long hair, "For your date?"
"I don't even know if I'm going in the first place" replies Maya, aghast, looking in the mirror, "You know I'm not good at parties"
"It's not a party, It's a ball."
"Still," she states, tying the ends of her hair back with a blue hair elastic, "We're leaving for New York tomorrow. Isn't it a little too late to start thinking about asking someone out?"
"You could always do it tomorrow morning" suggests Diana, somehow still awake at this time of night, blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders. Hermione mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep, tawny ringlets spread out over her pillow as she turns on her side.
Maya raises an eyebrow at her, amused.
"Sounds like you're more excited for the ball than I am."
Diana flushes, knowing she's been caught.
"I want to go, but I'm a third-year and I don't think anyone's willing to invite me"
A pang of pain goes through Maya's heart at these words. She knows all too well what it's like to be left out, having to walk the halls alone instead of with your friends. To see everyone else having fun and knowing that you won't be part of it. Their friendship is about so much more than the stupid arrangement with Draco Malfoy; Maya's actually having fun with Diana, she genuinely cares about her, trusts her — which is incredibly unusual, considering the way she puts up a wall with certain people. And the look on her friend's face right now, it's crushing disappointment, hurt, loneliness. All because she's in the wrong house, different, and that makes it "okay" for people to ostracize her.
Maya has the sneaking suspicion that Pansy is behind most of this behavior.
A lightbulb suddenly flickers on in her head.
"How about we make a deal?" she offers, relieved as it piques Diana's interest, "I promise to go with you to the ball, if you promise to not leave me alone with any creepy guys."
"You don't have to do that-" starts Diana, but Maya interrupts.
"Look, I don't want to go there alone. You want to go, but you need to be invited by someone. Think of it as a win-win situation"
Diana rolls her eyes, a smile lighting up her face in spite of itself. She seems to be thinking it over for a moment, then clarity comes over her features, and she replies.
"Deal"
Maya sighs, happily stretching out on top of her bed. A moment of sleepy bliss almost overcomes her, then a nagging suspicion pops into her head.
"Wait, what are we gonna wear?"
Diana coughs as the steam from the train billows onto the platform, the crowd barely registering the presence of her and her Gryffindor friend. Chatter envelops them, families welcoming their children back for the next (and in some cases, two) weeks. Maya's entourage isn't here yet; she's on the phone with her mum right now, so they stand off to the side, casually waiting.
Draco jogs toward his sister, black wool coat flying out behind him. He's just gotten away from Pansy, from the looks of it — his hair is disheveled, and there's the faintest hint of a lipstick mark on his cheek.
"Had fun?" questions Diana, smirking, as her older brother flushes with embarrassment.
"Shut up" he mutters, face taking on a worried look, "Are you sure you want to spend the break with......her?" — he gestures to Maya, who narrows her eyes at him in suspicion — "I can talk to Mum and Dad, so they'd be willing to let you stay-"
"Draco, it's fine" interrupts Diana, stopping her brother from continuing his speech, "Besides, I'd rather spend a week in New York with my best friend than having to deal with pugface Parkinson half the time"
"Best friend?" Draco questions, raising his eyebrows.
"I don't know why you act like she's Satan's spawn" replies Diana, sighing, "Maya's nicer than you give her credit for, okay? Plus, she's also kind of a badass-"
"With that height? Yeah, sure" scoffs Draco. Diana glares at him.
She feels a tap on her shoulder and looks around to find Maya's cerulean orbs looking back at her.
"Sorry to interrupt your little......conversation" Maya states, looking warily at Draco, "But Di, we need to go. My mother and Magnus are waiting at the entrance"
"Be careful, okay?" reminds Draco, sighing with anxiety, "I don't want you to get into trouble for being irresponsible."
"My middle name is responsible" replies Diana, rolling her eyes then smiling, "I'll be fine, big brother. There's nothing to worry about."
Draco sighs again, not convinced but just a tiny bit reassured.
"Well then," he replies, tightly, offering his hand to the younger girl, "Off you go! See you in a week"
Diana rolls her eyes at his "macho" demeanor.
"Oh, come here, you"
She pulls him into an unexpected hug, resting her head on his chest, and her arms wrap around him tight. Draco freezes, not really used to this type of affection, but melting into it all the same. After a few moments, they break apart, Diana waving at his retreating figure as she and Maya scamper off to the entrance. It feels like the beginning of something she can't put into words, a calm sort of excitement that hints at adventures to come.
Maya's eyes light up as she catches sight of her parents waiting at the gate, straightening up when they see the two girls striding towards them. A strikingly pretty, dark-haired woman rushes toward them first, looking exactly like Maya, with her caramel skin and high cheekbones except for her eyes, which are a serene shade of jade green.
"Welcome home, sweetheart" she whispers, as Maya lets go. Her smile broadens as she catches sight of Diana, shy in her demeanor.
"And you must be Diana" replies Maya's mother, pulling the younger Malfoy into a warm hug, "I'm so glad you decided to stay with us during the break — this is the first time Maya's brought a friend home-"
"Mom!" hisses the girl in question, overcome with embarrassment.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Subramanian" replies Diana, politely, trying her best to pronounce the woman's name correctly, "I hope I'm not intruding on whatever you have planned"
"Oh, not at all!" replies Nandini, beaming as she lets go, "And there's no need for the formalities, you can just call me Nandini"
"This is Magnus Bane, an old friend of my mother's" states Maya, a few moments later, gesturing to a tall asian man with kohl-lined eyes and flamboyantly spiked hair, "He practically raised me as a kid"
"Oh, now, you're giving me too much credit, Maya" replies Magnus, a smile gracing his chiseled features, "Diana Malfoy, you say?" — she nods, a little uncomfortable with the prestigiousness of her surname — "I think I may know your father. Lucius, right?"
"Yes, sir," she replies, lightly, "He's mentioned you a few times, all good things of course"
That's a complete lie, but Magnus seems to buy it, face morphing into one of pure astonishment.
"Well, that's a relief to hear" he replies, breaking the tension as light chuckles emanate from the party of four.
They all walk to a secluded alleyway, a few moments, later, Maya checking the space around them for muggles, before giving a thumbs up to Magnus. Diana watches in amazement as magic flows out of his hands in glowing ribbons, muttering something in Chthonian before opening up a portal, the unfamiliar "whoosh" making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
"After you" replies Magnus, gesturing for the two girls to go first.
Diana sighs, nervously gripping onto Maya's hand as the other girl shoots her a reassuring look. She takes a deep breath, walking forward, and letting herself tip into the vortex of magic.
The squeezing sensation hits her like a truck, spiraling through the world at the speed of light. White hot-magic swirls around her, and just as when she feels the warmth of Maya's hand start to slip, they hurtle onto the concrete, the Gryffindor catching Diana by the arm before she falls.
Afternoon sunlight streams down onto the snow-covered pavement, passerby not giving them a second look as they stand on the sidewalk, catching their breath. The yeasty smell of bread wafts down the pavement from the bagel shop down the street, mixed with what smells like gasoline and a tinge of alcohol. Street hawkers selling keychains run after them, their voices intermingling in a chatter of gaggle. Cars hurtle down the street, narrowly missing jaywalkers with no sense of safety. Some would call this place chaotic, dangerous even.
But to Diana, she finds it oddly beautiful, an awed 'wow' escaping her lips.
Maya chuckles at the statement, probably used to the buzz after living here practically all her life.
"Welcome to New York, my friend"
Chapter Text
𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
❝JET LAG REALLY IS A BITCH❞
The sky is dark as the five of them congregate in the kitchen, the digital timer on the oven reading 4:05 am. Neither Maya nor Diana can go to sleep, because their internal clocks are still on UK time and haven't adjusted to the hustle and bustle of New York yet. Nandini is at the Institute, working her last night shift before the holidays officially start, and Magnus is in Paris, trying to buy a particular brand of red wine that they enjoy every Christmas — excluding Maya, of course, not as they'd ever let her drink in front of them. Nandini has trusted Alec — since he's the "legal adult" out of the three of them — to make sure that the "kids" (as she likes to call them) don't get into any trouble.
Then again, he's probably the most innocent out of the five of them.
"This is the least responsible thing we could be doing," proclaims Alec, haughtily, Maya stifling a laugh at the sheer amount of sprinkles and whipped cream topping his hot chocolate, similar to the "fancy" kind she used to have from Starbucks as a six-year-old. His eyes are bright, for once, a merry redness staining the pale skin from the cozy atmosphere around them.
"Says you" she retorts, gesturing to the drink in his hand. Alec rolls his eyes, feigning nonchalance at being caught in his hypocrisy red-handed.
"How the fuck is dark chocolate different from white?" exclaims Jace, looking between the two canisters of hot chocolate mix with something that resembles bewilderment. Maya's eyes widen slightly with shock before she remembers that it's Jace whose mouth the words came out of. Even the densest comments from him wouldn't surprise her, after having known the boy practically all her life.
"It's in the name, dumbass" replies Izzy, smacking the back of his head. Diana chuckles lightly, his eyes softly flitting to her as the lilting sound escapes her lips. For a moment, something in his golden eyes softens, Maya, frowning, having never seen that look on his face before. A soft smile threatens to make its way onto his lips, but it vanishes the moment Diana's aquamarine orbs flit to him, a pink tint appearing on Jace's cheekbones as he becomes very interested in the tiled backsplash of the kitchen walls.
Sweet Circe, if he's crushing on her best friend-
"So how do you know Maya?" questions Alec, now sporting a foam mustache. Diana fights a laugh but manages to answer nonetheless.
"Well, we share the same dorm, and ever since I got sorted into Hufflepuff, Maya's kind of taken me under her wing" she replies, sweetly, making a surprised grin appear on Isabelle's face.
"Interesting..." replies Isabelle, making Diana chuckle, "Not that it's a bad thing, it's just that Maya's usually pretty shy when it comes to making friends-"
"I am not shy!" contradicts Maya, haughtily, scoffing as everyone around her bursts into snickers.
"Sure, like I didn't have to drag you out of your room so you could attend your own birthday party" Isabelle snorts.
"Don't forget the time Mr. Diaz almost fell out of his chair when Maya finally decided to speak up in class" reminisces Alec, chuckling.
"Or the time she hid in the library and read all day because she didn't want to admit that she was scared of Aline" recounts Jace, with a smirk.
Maya rolls her eyes at their immaturity, Diana trying to control her laughter but failing miserably.
"Traitor..." she mutters, resentfully, shooting a scorned look in Diana's direction. Diana merely rolls her eyes, shrugging nonchalantly.
"What?" she questions, feebly, "I'm weak. You knew that when you met me"
"I like her already" replies Jace, smoothly, flirtatiously throwing a smirk Diana's way. Maya chokes, almost gagging on her hot chocolate.
"Down, boy" she replies, unimpressed at his attempts to flirt with her best friend. Isabelle and Alec snort, uncontrollable laughter escaping their lips at Diana's sudden blush. Jace glares at Maya, who just looks amused at his frustration. The look on her face says everything - you ain't getting any tonight.
"Cockblock" he mutters, underneath his breath, which Maya hears.
"Asshole" she fires back, causing him to sigh and look away.
"A ball, you say?" questions Tessa, raising her eyebrows with interest as she slurps her coffee. The Lightwoods are thankfully out getting baking ingredients, Nandini going along with them to make sure they don't accidentally end up buying sugar instead of salt - yes, that actually happened once. Diana is unpacking her suitcase in Maya's room (which they're sharing for the holidays), leaving Tessa to catch up with her goddaughter, a.k.a grill Maya about the so-called juicy gossip that goes around at Hogwarts.
"I didn't want to go at first" replies Maya, from her sprawled-out position on the couch, "But Diana somehow convinced me that it would be fun."
"Anyone special you're planning on taking?" she questions, her grey-blue eyes glinting with mischief, something that Maya doesn't really see often these days, considering that she has a one-year-old on her hands. A one-year-old who's currently causing havoc at playgroup with Magnus, who prefers to limit his interactions with Shadowhunters as much as he can.
Except for her mother, of course.
But now that she thinks about it, their relationship has been noticeably rocky lately. Maya doesn't miss the tense looks they sometimes share when the two of them think she isn't looking. She saw the light in her mother's room on way past the hours of decency two days ago, hushed voices floating gently down the hall to where Maya was walking back to her room after her midnight rendezvous with Diana & Co.
"......have to tell her...."
".......trying, it's not working....."
"....he's getting closer, it's only a matter of time before her father...."
".......could be a spy at school, you never know....."
Her mind has been running in circles over these snippets in the past few days. They confirm her suspicions — that something sinister, greater than herself is running in the background. Her parents (as she thinks the appropriate way to refer to them) know at least something about the whole affair, considering the coded terms they use to keep word from getting out. And her father — her actual father — has something to do with it, a man Maya has never met, or wanted to meet.
What could possibly be going on?
Maya is a very minor character in terms of the dynamics of the Shadow World. Apart from the Lightwoods, Tessa & Magnus, everyone mostly ignores her, though she's no stranger to the usual derogatory comments from Downworlders and Nephilim alike. But it's never been to the extent to where someone would actually want to hurt her, cause harm to the witch herself and her family. Besides, she's never done anything remotely bad enough to warrant revenge. Apart from the usual parent-child arguments, Maya's life has been relatively smooth thus far.
So what the hell is going on?
"Earth to Maya..."
"Huh?"
Her head snaps back up, realizing that she spaced out for far too long to not be suspicious. Tessa looks at her with amusement, a flicker of concern in her eyes that quickly disappears as Maya sits up, trying to get a grip on her bearings one again.
"Boy problems?" questions Tessa, smirking with amusement as Maya blanches in horror.
"Ew, no!"
"Come on, you're still young" she drawls, setting her now-empty coffee mug, "There has to be at least someone on your mind."
"I don't know what you're talking about" replies Maya, nonchalantly.
"Is it a girl?"
Maya chokes on air.
"No! I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that — I-I just — Damn it, Tessa!!"
The older warlock laughs, throwing her head back as Maya groans with embarrassment, burying her face in her hands. Her cheeks are burning, wondering how the hell does Tessa know exactly how to put her on the spot. Diana walks in, quickly picking up on their conversation as Tessa and her share knowing grins.
"Me and Diana are going as friends" she emphasizes, finally gathering the courage to look the other woman in the eye, "And I'm not interested in anyone, boy or girl"
"Sure, like I haven't caught you checking out Draco before...."
Tessa gasps, in mock outrage, as Maya glares at Diana with a viciousness that matches one of a virago. It doesn't create the intended effect, however — Diana just snickers at how puny the other girl is.
"For the last time, I do not have a crush on your brother!" Maya exclaims, indignantly, causing Tessa to let out a mystical sigh, as she dreamily stares out the window.
"That's what they all say...." she replies, with a sigh, Diana nodding in agreement.
"You don't know that!" replies Maya, very much miffed.
Tessa laughs.
"Sweetheart, I'm one-hundred-and-fifty-two years old. I've been married twice, with three kids in total. I know a crush when I see one"
"Finally, someone that shares my beliefs!" replies Diana, dramatically, throwing her hands up in the air out of exasperation. They high-five. Maya groans, grabbing a pillow and burying her face into it.
"I hate you all" she growls.
"You'll thank us later"
"Oh my god...."
Diana breathes out the words like a prayer, lifting up the yellow silk of the dress, her outfit for the ball. The color is an unintentional nod to her house, standing out beautifully against her pale skin. In the evening light, her blonde hair glows ethereally against her bare shoulders, glossy and immaculate as usual.
Maya has always acknowledged the fact that Diana is objectively good-looking. She emits the kind of beauty you would expect to see painted on the ceiling of a church; timeless, angelic, pure, on a different plane than most boys and girls her age. But today, it stuns them all. Nandini has a satisfied smile — one that she's never seen on her mother's face directed towards her — eyes shining with pride. Izzy is grinning unabashedly, nudging Maya with pride at their selection. Alec looks platonically impressed, but not in the appreciative way that a man would usually look over a woman's body. Jace, however, sports the exact opposite expression. His mouth is half-open, agape, face looking as though a ray of the purest sunlight has hit it. Adoration is written all over his features, and even as Maya tries to be against it, she can't help but feel that something in him has changed since the moment he laid eyes on her best friend.
"You look incredible" whispers Tessa, in a hushed voice. Mina looks up from the book of fairytales she's been focused on, her dark brown eyes widening as soon as she catches sight of the blonde witch.
"Mama, is she a princess now?" questions the toddler, face alight with wonder. Diana blushes. Maya smiles with pride. Nandini and Tessa manage small "aww"s at the sweetness of her words.
"Yes, she is!" exclaims Maya, grabbing the lid of a pan from the counter and dramatically placing it on top of Diana's head to resemble a tiara.
"Queen of the Hufflepuffs" she proclaims, gesturing to the other girl in an exaggerated manner. Diana just shakes her head, chuckling ruefully.
"Just when I thought Maya couldn't get any weirder.." mutters Isabelle, as Maya rolls her eyes.
"You're just jealous that you weren't blessed with my inherent uniqueness" she replies, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she scoffs exaggeratedly.
"Okay, Queen Victoria," proclaims Nandini, sliding off of the arm rest of the couch, "It's your turn now. Come on"
Maya's eyes widen as her mother gestures down the hall, into the laundry room. There's no way in hell they would have been able to afford a fancy dress for her. Sure, Nandini and Maya aren't exactly poor, but the rent and food bills usually take up most of the budget, and her mother's job as a Shadowhunter doesn't exactly pay much to throw around on luxurious purchases. Maya had originally intended to wear a transfigured version of the blue sleeveless dress she wore to the last dinner with Magnus before school started. Work with what you have, she told herself, too proud to ask for money from her mother or Magnus.
Which is what makes Maya all the more confused as they enter Nandini's bedroom.
The older woman goes into the closet for a second, sounds of clothes being pulled aside audible from outside.
"Mom, what are you doing — " starts Maya.
"Just wait for a second, will you?" replies Nandini, impatiently. Maya hears the sounds of a few objects clattering to the floor — hopefully nothing breakable, given their family trait for clumsiness, she hopes — before Nandini finally steps out, carrying a black garment bag in her hands. Maya sits down on the bed as Nandini hands it to her, looking up at her mother with utter confusion on her features.
"Oh, get over yourself" huffs Nandini, exasperated as she sits down next to her daughter, "Stop gawking at me like a lost chicken and just open the bloody thing!"
Maya glares at her for a split second, before sliding the zipper all the way down. Her eyes widen as specks of gold glitter fall to the floor, flaking off from the stunning gold embroidery on the skirt.
Beautiful strips of gold ribbon weave around the hem, before cascading into hand-sewn roses and vines of gold, swirling all around the turmeric silk, also adorning the waistband. A tassled thread hangs down from the waist, clearly meant for flaunting judging by the golden brooch that ornaments it. It's absolutely incredible, the heft of the fabric giving off the impression that it carries decades, if not centuries of history.
"It used to be mine," states Nandini, softly, eyes soft with shadows from her past as she runs her fingers over the silky fabric, "I wore it to my coming-of-age ceremony, when I was just a little younger than you."
Maya's eyes widen in surprise, as she glances at her mother. Nandini's past is something they tread lightly on. She knows the bare minimum about her mother's childhood, the bits Nandini has mentioned to her sounding strained and fraught with tension. Most of it is fraught with a sense of betrayal, considering the fact that she was sent away at the young age of six with no prior warning. Her foster parents were quite strict and traditional, being first-generation Indian immigrants from Punjab. Nandini has a few important items she's kept from her time being raised in an Anglo-Indian household, mostly pieces of jewelry and the occasional vintage kurta or 90's style dress. Her clothes from the past are important to her, the last pieces of family she has left, after her adoptive parents cast her out for falling in love with Arjun.
And Maya has no clue why her mother is entrusting her, of all people, with something so treasured.
"It's beautiful...." she whispers, hesitantly meeting Nandini's eyes, "But.....aren't you afraid I'll ruin it or something?"
Nandini sighs, rolling her eyes.
"If I doubted your responsibility, I wouldn't have even showed it to you in the first place" she quips, "Besides, I've had it for years now. It's high time I pass it on to someone else, and who better than my lovely daughter?"
"Lovely?" questions Maya, grinning as she raises her eyebrows in question.
"Well, that may be a bit of a stretch" replies Nandini, smirking, as Maya playfully slaps her shoulder. Her expression softens, "But at least you're not like Jace, with a penchant for driving cars into poles"
"Do we know who even gave him the SUV in the first place?" questions Maya, confused, "I don't even trust him with my phone"
"I think Robert was trying to teach him how to drive, but it backfired. Quite literally" she adds, causing a snort to escape Maya's lips.
When they're both finished laughing, Nandini's eyes suddenly turn misty.
"You know I trust you, right?" she says, suddenly, causing Maya to frown.
"Yeah.....Mom, are you okay?" questions Maya, noticing the abrupt change in the older woman's demeanor.
"I'm fine," she replies, taking one of her daughter's hands and squeezing lightly, "Things are changing around us, Maya. A lot of what I thought was gone before has reappeared and it's making me a bit worried about your well-being. I just want you to know that if you ever want to tell me something, or talk, I'm here."
"Mom, why are you saying these things?" Maya questions, with a tinge of alarm, "Is something wrong?"
"It's nothing" replies the older woman, dismissively standing up, "I should probably go check on the cookies, unless Alec's taken them out already"
She leaves quickly, leaving a very confused Maya in her room, fingering the silk tassels on the lehenga.
What the bloody hell is going on?
"Stop it! I told you not to splash me!"
Diana giggles, as the foam lands on her sweater. She mock-glares at Jace, who holds his soap-covered hands up in surrender.
"You never specifically mentioned that I couldn't splash your sweater" he retorts, as she rolls her eyes.
"You always find a loophole, don't you?"
"Isn't that the point?"
Diana blushes slightly, finding hard to meet the attractive teenager's honey-colored eyes. In the past few days of being here, they've grown surprisingly close, much to her surprise and Maya's chagrin. In fact, she might be developing the beginnings of what is commonly referred to as a 'crush' on him. Though they've only known each other for four days, something about his magnetic, easygoing demeanor immediately puts a calm feeling in her chest, mixed with a bubbling ebullience that arises in his presence. She doesn't know why, but a part of her genuinely likes him, and it's becoming more and more confusing as to whether her feelings are platonic or romantic in nature.
"Am I making you nervous, mademoiselle?" purrs Jace, noticing her blush as he leans in closer to her. Diana swallows, her mouth drying. She doesn't know why, but sudden feelings of uneasiness spring up in her chest. However, she's momentarily distracted by the way the light catches in his eyes, making them almost glow in the dim light of the kitchen.
Weirdly, Diana feels the sudden need to put distance between them.
"Of course not!" she scoffs, playfully waving in his direction, turning her attention back to the polka-dotted mug she was washing in the past.
"Yeah...." he drawls, leaning against the counter, one elbow on the marble. Diana tries to focus on the cabinet as she feels him slowly glancing at her, "I think I do"
She turns around, an indignant retort on the tip of her tongue, when suddenly, her foot slips on the hardwood floor. Diana shrieks, feeling herself rapidly toppling backwards, about to hit the floor as a pair of arms wrap around her waist. Jace quickly pulls her out of harm's way, then his breath hitches as they stand almost completely pressed up against each other, chest-to-chest level. His eyes widen momentarily, but a slight gasp escapes her mouth as they linger at her lips.
But oddly, nothing inside her tell her to lean in and close the distance.
She jumps backwards as their lips brush together, gently pushing him away with the tips of her fingers on his chest. A mixture of disgust and revulsion runs through her at the way he wipes his lips, staring at her with a blend of shame and embarrassment.
"Diana — " starts Jace, fearfully, as she gently backs away, "I'm sorry if I startled you. I just thought you felt the same way — "
Does she?
"I do" she clarifies, awkwardly, rubbing her hands together, "It's just — um — I'm sorry, it's not anything about you, it's me"
"Wait!" he practically shouts, as she walks away, down the hall to Maya's bedroom. The older girl is inside, eyes distractedly poring over the pages of a book she can't recognize.
"You okay?" questions Maya, frowning at her pale skin and flushed cheeks, "Di, you look like you've seen a ghost"
Diana collapses on the bed next to her, confusing feelings running through her head and taking over her brain. She knows she likes Jace — hell, she's even acknowledged it. He's good-looking, kind, nice, funny....
So why didn't she want to kiss him?
"Earth to Diana?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired, is all"
Chapter Text
𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
❝YOU LOOK AMAZING❞
Diana smiles, proudly as her brother compliments her, dryly. Her gown of yellow satin falls to the floor in ochre rivulets, the butterflies trailing up the hem shimmering in the light, from tapers fixated onto the walls next to them. As he waits for the doors to open, Pansy next to him in a pink, frilly dress that doesn't flatter her figure at all, Draco sees some of the eyes linger on his younger sister, and protectively places a hand on her shoulder.
"Have you seen Maya?" she pipes up, oblivious to the way people are looking at her. Draco rolls his eyes.
"How would I know where the bloody witch is? It's not like I have a map"
Diana snorts, raising her eyebrows in questions. For some reason, she's always been able to see right through him, behind the facade of cruelty and bullshit that is his exterior.
If she weren’t his sister, it would unnerve him beyond words.
“Why do you hate her so much?” she questions, hands on her hips, “She’s been nothing but nice to me. You seem to be trying to find reasons to ridicule her.”
“She’s insufferable!” he retorts, as Diana rolls her eyes, “No, really! What a hot-headed do-gooder. She acts like she’s so much better than everyone else, like she knows everything. And bloody hell, she’s freaking scary with those eyes of hers, always watching you. I feel like she’s trying to rip me apart sometimes. And that mouth of hers, Merlin, she never shuts up!-”
“Sounds to me, big brother” interrupts his sister, looking unnervingly like him as she smirks, “Like you fancy her”
Draco sputters, outraged.
“Merlin’s beard, what is wrong with you, Diana?” he practically screams, as his sister bites back a peal of laughter, “Do you consider my standards as being that low? I hate her. She’s so scrawny, not even the least bit attractive. And with the way she dresses-”
“Draco, mate?” comes the voice of his best friend.
“What, Blaise?!” he snaps, turning to face the other slytherin, in green robes. Blaise rolls his eyes, gesturing to something - or someone - at the top of the stairs.
And for the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy forgets how to breathe.
Maya Rajesh sucks in a deep breath, as she feels the eyes start to linger on her. Her exposed skin tingles, and for the first time, she admits, she really hasn’t done a bad job with her look for tonight. Confidence runs through her veins - an emotion that she often struggles with - and for the first time in a while, Maya feels like she could accomplish anything.
Isabelle was right. Beauty is on the inside, but looking good certainly doesn’t hurt.
Her looks have never been - and Maya’s being genuinely honest when she says this - of major importance to her. Sure, it feels nice to dress up and get ready for a night out, but her focus has always been on more mundane things, on her academic future. She’s not condemning the people who take pride in their appearance - in fact, she admires them for their ability to make themselves look good - it’s just that Maya has never looked at clothes or makeup as a form of self- expression. She prefers to use her words to express herself, even though her actual voice is somewhat subdued and quieter compared to that of Isabelle’s or Diana’s.
But getting ready for tonight feels like it’s opened her eyes to a completely different world.
Her breath suddenly catches in her chest, as she catches sight of a familiar, tall Slytherin leaning against the wall.
If Maya had known what would ensue after, she would have kicked herself for thinking that Draco Malfoy was even remotely attractive.
But with the atmosphere around them, candlelight burning and soft music echoing from inside the closed hall, it’s hard not to think of anything in a rose-colored manner. He looks good, she realizes, with a sharp jolt in her stomach. No, better than good, great. The way his dark suit fits him, broadening his shoulders and lengthening his legs, the way the material contrasts oh-so-well with his pale skin and hair, the way the silver cufflinks on his shirt make his grey eyes look just a tiny bit more piercing, by the angel, if she were a different person, Maya would take it upon herself to-
She doesn’t realize how long she’s been standing there until Diana shoots her a confused look and gestures for her to descend the rest of the way.
Oh.
“What took you so long?” questions the Hufflepuff, concerned as she sees how flushed Maya’s face is, “You were almost done getting ready when I left”
“Oh, um” replies Maya, awkwardly fidgeting with a strand of her hair that’s fallen out from the intricate braid, pointedly glancing away from Malfoy, whose gaze hasn’t moved from her at all, “I….lost my phone”
In actuality, Maya had to spend fifteen minutes summoning the nerve to walk out here in front of everyone, voluntarily putting herself on a pedestal for judgement. She notices the way Parkinson looks at her with narrowed eyes, her dark hair curled and half-pinned back with sparkly clips for the occasion. The hairstyle seems to be meant to suit her, but it only makes her face look saggy and more pug-ish. The look in her eyes is shrewd, calculating, determining how much of a threat exactly is Maya.
“Lost your phone?” questions Diana, incredulously, “You have it with you at all times….”
Draco Malfoy’s eyes meet hers again and the same jolted feeling returns. Her skin prickles as he gazes at her with his mouth half-open - even an expression that comical looks good on him, she thinks, with something that feels akin to frustration. His hair isn’t gelled for once, she notices, but rather combed, falling over his face in an entirely new - and somewhat attractive way. Her skin flushes once more, and a sort of excitement runs through her veins, an ebullience that she can’t find words to describe.
“Helloo? Earth to Maya?”
Diana’s words snap Maya back to her current reality, and she blinks a few times, disoriented, as though she’s just escaped from a trance. She shakes her head as if to rid her ears of water, and finally manages to answer.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
Diana sighs, looking between the pair of them with a mixture of wry amusement and exasperation.
“You two are hopeless.” she states, dryly, as Draco flushes & Maya rolls her eyes.
Fleur Delacour passes them, looking stunning in a simple dress of silver-gray satin, and accompanied by the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain, Roger Davies. When they disappear, Maya stands straight again and tried to look over the heads of the crowd.
The oak front doors open, and everyone turns to look as the Durmstrang students enter with Professor Karkaroff. Krum is at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in a blue gown Maya vaguely recognizes .
Over their heads she sees that an area of lawn right in front of the castle has been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights — meaning hundreds of actual living fairies are sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seem to be Santa Claus and his reindeer.
Then Professor McGonagall’s voice calls, “Champions over here, please!” Parvati waves to Maya as she walks with Harry, looking rather pretty in a lehenga of shocking pink. Professor McGonagall, who is wearing a matronly dress of red tartan and has arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, tells them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else goes inside; they are to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies station themselves nearest the doors; Davies looks so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he can hardly take his eyes off her. Cedric and Cho are close to Maya too;. The older Hufflepuff sends her a friendly wave as she gives him a polite smile. Her eyes fall instead on the girl next to Krum
Maya’s jaw drops
It’s Hermione.
But she doesn’t look like Hermione at all. She’s done something with her hair; it’s no longer bushy but sleek and shiny, and twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. Her dress is stunning, made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and Hermione’s holding herself differently, somehow — or maybe it’s merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually has slung over her back. She’s also smiling — rather nervously — but the reduction in the size of her front teeth is more noticeable than ever; Maya can’t believe that she hasn’t noticed it before.
“Hi, Maya!” she says, brightly. “Hi, Diana!”
Diana stares at Hermione in unbelievable disbelief. She isn’t the only one either; when the doors to the Great Hall open, Krum’s fan club from the library stalk past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Maya resists the urge to throw her middle finger at them. Pansy Parkinson gapes at her as she walks by with Malfoy, and even he doesn’t seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her. Ron, however, walks right past Hermione without looking at her.
Prick, Maya thinks to herself, before she can stop herself.
Once everyone else is settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall tells the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs follow her. They do so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauds as they enter and start walking up towards a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges are sitting.
The walls of the Hall have been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables have vanished; instead, there are about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.
Parvati seemes to be enjoying herself, from what Maya can see; she’s beaming around at everybody, steering Harry so forcefully that it looks as though he’s a show dog she’s putting through its paces — Diana hides a laugh at this. Ron watches Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. Padma looks sulky.
Dumbledore smiles happily as the champions approach the top table, but Karkaroff wears an expression remarkably like Ron’s as he watches Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, is clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who has changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, is applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Maya suddenly realizes, was not there. The fifth seat at the table is occupied by Percy Weasley.
When the champions and their partners reached their tables, Hermione shooting a look for Maya and Diana to come along with them — which they reluctantly do —, Percy draws out the empty chair beside him, staring pointedly at Harry, who takes the hint and sits down next to Percy, who is wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of such smugness that Maya thinks it ought to be fined.
“I’ve been promoted,” Percy says before Maya can even ask, and from his tone, he might be announcing his election as supreme ruler of the universe. “I’m now Mr. Crouch’s personal assistant, and I’m here representing him.”
“Why didn’t he come?” Harry asks, looking as though he’s preparing himself to be lectured on cauldron bottoms all through dinner.
“I’m afraid to say Mr. Crouch isn’t well, not well at all. Hasn’t been right since the World Cup. Hardly surprising — overwork. He’s not as young as he was — though still quite brilliant, of course, the mind remains as great as it ever was. But the World Cup was a fiasco for the whole Ministry, and then, Mr. Crouch suffered a huge personal shock with the misbehavior of that house-elf of his, “ — Diana shares her expression of disgust at this — “Blinky, or whatever she was called. Naturally, he dismissed her immediately afterward, but — well, as I say, he’s getting on, he needs looking after, and I think he’s found a definite drop in his home comforts since she left. And then we had the tournament to arrange, and the aftermath of the Cup to deal with — that revolting Skeeter woman buzzing around — no, poor man, he’s having a well earned, quiet Christmas. I’m just glad he knew he had someone he could rely upon to take his place.”
Maya wants very much to ask whether Mr. Crouch has stopped calling Percy “Weatherby” yet, but resists the temptation.
There is no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus are lying in front of each of them. Maya picks hers up uncertainly and looks around — there are no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looks carefully down at his own menu, then says very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!” And pork chops appear. Getting the idea, the rest of the table place their orders with their plates too — Maya with her pad thai, Diana with shepherd’s pie.
Maya glances up at Hermione to see how she feels about this new and more complicated method of dining — surely it means plenty of extra work for the house-elves? — but for once, Hermione doesn’t seem to be thinking about S.P.E.W. She is deep in talk with Viktor Krum and hardly seems to notice what she was eating. It now occurs to Maya that she has never actually heard Krum speak before, but he’s certainly talking now, and very enthusiastically at that.
“Veil, ve have a castle also, not as big as this, nor as comfortable, I am thinking,” he tells Hermione. “Ve have just four floors, and the fires are lit only for magical purposes. But ve have grounds larger even than these — though in vinter, ve have very little daylight, so ve are not enjoying them. But in summer ve are flying every day, over the lakes and the mountains —”
“Now, now, Viktor!” says Karkaroff with a laugh that doesn’t reach his cold eyes, “don’t go giving away anything else, now, or your charming friend will know exactly where to find us!”
Creepy bastard...Maya thinks to herself. She doesn’t know why, but to her, something is just off about him. The shifty glint in his dark eyes speaks of distrust, and malice.
And Maya isn’t sure whether he’s directing it towards her.
Dumbledore smiles, his eyes twinkling. “Igor, all this secrecy . . .one would almost think you didn’t want visitors.”
“Well, Dumbledore,” says Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, “we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school’s secrets, and right to protect them?”
“Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts’ secrets, Igor,” says Dumbledore amicably. “Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon — or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder.”
Harry snorts into his plate of goulash. Percy frowns. Maya and Diana share a look full of mirth, and have difficulty keeping their composure. Meanwhile Fleur Delacour criticizes the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.
“Zis is nothing,” she says dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. “At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we ’ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course . . . zey are like ’uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we ’ave choirs of wood nymphs, ’oo serenade us as we eat. We ’ave none of zis ugly armor in ze ’alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, ’e would be expelled like zat.” She slaps her hand onto the table impatiently.
Roger Davies is watching her talk with a very dazed look on his face, and he keeps missing his mouth with his fork. Maya has the impression that Davies is too busy staring at Fleur to take in a word she’s saying.
“Absolutely right,” he says quickly, slapping his own hand down on the table in imitation of Fleur. “Like that. Yeah.”
Maya looks around the Hall. Hagrid is sitting at one of the other staff tables; he’s back in his horrible hairy brown suit and gazing up at the top table. Maya sees him give a small wave, and looking around, sees Madame Maxime return it, her opals glittering in the candlelight.
Hermione’s now teaching Krum to say her name properly; he keeps calling her “Hermy-own.”
“Her-my-oh-nee,” she says, slowly and clearly.
“Herm-own-ninny.”
“Close enough,” she says, catching Maya’s eye and grinning.
When all the food has been consumed, Dumbledore stands up and asks the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoom back along the walls leaving the floor clear, and then he conjures a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes are set upon it.
The Weird Sisters now troop up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause; they are all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that have been artfully ripped and torn. They pick up their instruments, and Maya & Diana go back down to the floor, leaning against the wall as they begin to watch the champions dance.
Harry trips over his dress robes as he stands up. The Weird Sisters strike up a slow, mournful tune; Harry walks onto the brightly lit dance floor, carefully avoiding catching anyone’s eye (Maya can see Seamus and Dean waving at him and sniggering), and next moment, Parvati seizes his hands, places one around her waist, and holds the other tightly in hers.
Soon enough, the champions aren’t the centre of attention anymore, other students joining them on the dance floor. Diana drags Maya along impatiently, even after she complains that dancing is a waste of time, and they’re only going to make fools of themselves, and her bharatanatyam classes aren’t going to do shit for her anyways, so why even try-
Diana really has a knack for ignoring her protests.
“See, this isn’t so bad!” proclaims the Hufflepuff, arms slung casually around Maya’s shoulders as they glide along the dance floor, “You just need to get used to it!”
“I feel like I’m going to trip over my own feet” mutters Maya, with her hands chastely placed around Diana’s waist. She looks around them, quickly, to see if anyone’s watching them. All the couples around them are either too focused on themselves or too busy whispering endearments to notice anyone else around them.
“You’re not that bad” interjects Diana, pointedly, “Quite graceful, compared to him” She cocks her head to a pair of familiar Gryffindors.
Neville and Ginny are dancing nearby — Maya can see Ginny wincing frequently as Neville trods on her feet — and Dumbledore is waltzing with Madame Maxime. He’s so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickles her chin; however, she moves very gracefully for a woman so large. Mad-Eye Moody is doing an extremely ungainly two-step with Professor Sinistra, who nervously avoids his wooden leg.
Soon, however, the teachers disperse, and the beat of the music picks up, swelling as they switch partners with the person to their right. Diana gets paired up with Blaise Zabini, and Maya is left with his date, Daphne Greengrass, a startlingly pretty blonde — which is the hair color that seems to be the most predominant in Slytherin, she thinks dryly to herself. She seems relatively shy, notices Maya, timid, barely even looking at her as they awkwardly dance together before moving onto the next person.
This repeats a few times, and Maya soon gets used to the steps. Harry and her somehow end up together, and she has to edge out of the way multiple times, his moves either being overenthusiastic or not trying at all. As much as she tries to encourage him, there’s a small part of her that feels pity for Parvati. Maya’s suddenly glad she’s not wearing heels, otherwise she’d have to resist the urge to kick him for how many times he’s stepped on her feet in the short time they’ve been dancing together.
It’s an incredible relief when she gets paired up with Hermione, who’s still laughing from her encounter with Krum. Dancing with her is relatively easier than with Harry, and Maya even manages to giggle, brightly, as they spin each other around. She spots Diana on the other end of the dance floor, with a petite ravenclaw girl Maya recognizes as Luna Lovegood, doing some sort of uncanny dance that involves them skipping around each other with their hands waving above their heads. An intoxicated redness stains her pale cheeks, and if she didn’t know any better, Maya would just mistake it of being from the cold. Her sharp eyes don’t miss the empty cups of punch next to the two of them, the very same drink that she saw a very smug-looking Terry Boot sneak away from thirty seconds ago, silver flask stashed underneath his robes.
She just hopes Diana knows what exactly she’s drinking.
Maya’s suddenly spun away from Hermione, raising her arms up above her head, just as she’s done the last five times before, the stray curls from her braid flying out behind her. She absentmindedly catches her next partner’s hand without looking to see who it is, being spun around once more to face them.
When their eyes meet, she freezes.
Because staring back at her, aren’t the familiar dark red hair and brown eyes of George Weasley. There’s no mischievous glint, rumpled shirt, or easy, joking laughter that usually emanates from him. In fact, it’s the exact opposite.
Looking back at her, are the familiar silver spheres and white-blond strands of Draco Malfoy, his black suit still completely pristine, faint smudges of pink lip gloss present on his jaw. His hand on her waist feels icy, but in a sort of pleasant manner, shivers running up and down her spine. Their hands freeze in the air, about to interlock, hovering.
There’s no way this is possible.
But with the way Maya’s luck tends to fail her, she probably should have expected it.
Draco Malfoy can’t believe his eyes.
In all honesty, Pansy really can’t dance. She was more concerned about trying to snog him on the dance floor, hence the horrid pink lipstick smudged beneath his jaw. The bloody woman barely let anyone else dance with him, always making sure they ended up together after they’d switched partners one or two times. Pansy has claws like a wild bear, fingernails almost digging into his arms with the monstrous grip she had on him, almost the entire evening.
Draco considers the fact that he was even able to get out of her sight a major accomplishment.
Now, however, as he looks at the girl in front of him, his heart starts to pound with what feels like anxiety. Maya Rajesh is unnervingly close to him, in a way that almost feels indecent. Draco sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes unknowingly rove over her features, noticing specks of silver glitter scattered over her high cheekbones. They contrast with the dark blue of her eyes, amplified in ten by the turmeric-colored fabric of her skirt. Her pupils widen slightly as she gazes at him, eyes lingering on the lipstick smudges around his jaw, a hint of a smirk forming on her face.
There’s only one thing he can think of to keep the peace.
“Shall we dance?” quips Draco, hoping she can’t sense the edge of anxiety in his tone. She raises an elegant eyebrow, before interlocking their hands above her shoulder, her palm feeling surprisingly warm and soft in his.
“Why not?”
And with that, they begin to move, Draco taking the lead as he guides them slowly around the floor. She catches on fast, fluidly responding to his motions as if it’s second nature to her. Her skin is surprisingly warm, almost feverish compared to the cool atmosphere around them. Up close, her features seem dainty, finely carved, meant to be girlish and innocent. But there’s a certain intensity that Maya Rajesh carries herself with — a quiet sense of self-assuredness, a firm belief in her own willpower — that makes her look fierce, a lioness in human form . Unapproachable, almost, though in actuality, she barely even comes up to his chin.
And oddly, Draco finds himself drawn to it.
“You’re better than I thought” remarks Rajesh, as he spins her around, her back now facing his chest as her arm wraps around the back of his neck. This position feels more intimate, closer, even though they aren’t even looking at each other. He can feel her soft puffs of air on just underneath his jaw, and struggles not to flush at the warm, tingly sensation that spreads over his skin at the provocation.
“I’ve had years of practice” replies Draco, trying to sound self-assured even as his voice comes out a little shaky. He feels her tense slightly, beneath him, her soft hair brushing against the column of his neck.
She spins again, changing her place to what they started with. This time, they’re way too close together to be considered decent. Her lips are painted the color of terracotta, and as she wets her bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, Draco flushes crimson, having to blink a few times to maintain his previous composure.
What is wrong with him?
“Do I make you nervous, Malfoy?” quips Maya Rajesh, smirking as they glide around each other. Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes at the taunting tone of her words.
“In your dreams” he answers, earning a snort from her.
“Yeah, sure. Like you weren’t staring at me the entire time before the doors opened,”
Does she really want to play this game with him?
“You certainly couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself a few minutes back” retorts Draco, smirking as her cheeks redden. He has the upper hand again, trying not to lose in this fragile, tense game that they’ve decided to play with each other.
“I was only looking at you because I had to” replies Rajesh, the words sounding a tad bit forced, “It’s part of the dance. Didn’t you know?”
“Who’s lying now?” he taunts, as they merge again, his hands on her waist, hers on his shoulders. She’s touching him in a completely chaste way, but somehow, it feels like he’s playing with fire, watching the embers dance in his hands, knowing he’ll undoubtedly get burnt in the end.
Then, she goes in for the kill.
“Had fun with Parkinson?” she replies, snarkily. Draco tenses, glaring daggers at her, as Rajesh grins, knowing she’s hit a nerve.
“Shut up” he mutters, wanting to sink down into the floor out of embarrassment.
Merlin, agreeing to be her date for the night really was a horrible idea.
“Someone’s angry” remarks Rajesh. Draco is livid, fuming as he lifts her up a little higher than necessary, a little shriek escaping her lips. She clearly didn’t expect that move, considering the way her hands tighten on his shoulders. Rajesh glares at him when he sets her down, a chuckle escaping his lips at the hard set of her features.
“Jerk” she mutters, out of irritation.
“Know-It-All” he retorts, not missing the way she rolls her eyes at him.
“You’re only insulting me to change the subject,” Draco replies, smoothly, as the music swells. He smirks, “Admit it. You were looking at me because you think I looked good,”
“Never”
His eyebrows lift up in an unmistakable show of challenge.
“So why were you looking at me, then?” questions Draco, enjoying the way she refuses to meet his eyes, a blush spreading across her cheeks once more.
“I told you” she replies, gritting her teeth as they glide back and forth, “It was because I had to”
“So defensive…” he mutters, satisfied, as they circle each other once more, “In all honesty, you don’t look bad either, Rajesh. My sister’s a lucky woman”
Her eyes widen for a split second, before her lazy smirk falls back into place.
“Oh my…..are you flirting with me, Malfoy?” she questions, as his hand tightens on her lower back.
Draco mirrors her expression, looking directly into her eyes as he dips her, back perfectly arched in his arms. One of her arms is hooked around the back of his neck, the other gracefully trailing to the floor.
“Of course not” he replies, smoothly, “I was just stating a fact”
Maya freezes as the song ends, and they let go of each other, an inexplicable pang going through her chest at the loss of contact. Her heart thunders in his chest, and try as she might to act unfazed, Maya can’t bring herself to look him in the eye anymore.
“Ever the gentleman, aren’t you, Malfoy?” she replies, trying to be mysterious, though her voice falters a little bit, “Do you act like this with every girl you meet?”
He smirks that insufferable little smirk again. Only instead of wanting to punch him, Maya feels drawn to Draco Malfoy in a way she can’t explain.
“I think you know the answer to that, Rajesh”
And with that, he walks away, leaving Maya to ponder her fate as the rest of the students exit the dance floor. She exhales sharply, her chest feeling oddly tight for some weird reason. Her eyes glare at his retreating back, and if Maya was feeling more vindictive, she’d contemplate hexing the bastard.
But not tonight.
Something has changed between them, Maya realizes, with a jolt. Before, she was just annoyed by him, irritated by his prejudice and constant smugness that hangs to him like cigarette to a smoke addict. But now she’s noticed him, in a completely different — and somewhat unnerving way. He affects her, makes her falter, somehow manages to pull apart her usual mask with a few words.
And for once in her life, Maya Rajesh is out of answers.
That night, as she falls asleep in her four-poster-bed, Diana drunkenly snoring in the bed next to her — after doing some embarrassing things that are perfect blackmail material — Maya’s thoughts aren’t racing around unpredictable circumstances, or the strange, cryptic manners of the people close to her. They’re filled with a person, a certain annoying Slytherin, with white-blond hair and silver eyes.
What has she gotten herself into?
Chapter 15: Chapter 15
Chapter Text
𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟒
THE NIGHT IS CHILLY, as Draco Malfoy leans against a hedge.
His breaths shiver with each exhale, the fog stilling in the frosty air. The fabric of his suit may be expensive, but the thin silk does absolutely nothing to dull the cold that seems to seep into his bones. The view is worth it, though; the sky is beautiful this time of year, rich navy-blue, dotted with stars that seem to swirl within the vast cosmos.
Just like her eyes.
Damn it!
It's only been one dance, and Draco is unable to get Maya Rajesh out of his thoughts. He doesn't even know why she's in them in the first place. It wasn't like they voluntarily picked each other to dance; they had to, otherwise people would suspect something. He certainly didn't enjoy it, what, with the way he had to bend down for each step, to match her height. She wasn't even that good; movements barely synchronized with his, almost tripping when the music got fast.
But he can still feel her slender hands on his shoulders, warmer than he had expected. Up until now, Draco has always seen Maya Rajesh as cold, glacial in her appearance and behavior. She emanates the kind of frigidity that keeps people at a safe distance, thin sheets of frost covering rose petals. But up close, the heat of her is endless, white-hot flames burning under her skin. Her eyes looked piercing, carefully lined with black kohl, deep-set enough to seem as though they were staring directly into his soul. And when she smirked, he felt a chill go up his spine at the sheer wickedness of that expression on her face —
Draco stops his thoughts before he can even finish them.
"In all honesty, you don’t look bad either, Rajesh. My sister’s a lucky woman”
What is wrong with him? Why did he say those things, why did he do those things? Merlin's beard, the punch really must've gotten to his head, otherwise there is no way on earth that he would be thinking like this. Draco Malfoy is not a romantic. And although he's fancied one or two girls himself, they've always been pureblooded enough to making getting together not much of a risk to his reputation.
Not that he wants to be anywhere near her.
"Ah, Draco" comes a familiar voice, one that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, "Just the boy I was looking for"
Lucius Malfoy steps out of the shadows, hair identical to Draco's, except his father's is longer, tips brushing the start of his waist. He's dressed — as always — in immaculate black robes of the finest fabric, dragon-hide boots tipped with sterling silver. Draco immediately straightens up, schooling his features into that of an obedient schoolboy as he brushes the dust off of his suit.
"Father" he replies, calmly, turning up his chin, "I didn't know you were coming."
The tone of his voice is carefully neutral, calculated. It's a basic instinct for Draco to tread on eggshells around the man that contributed to raising him. His armor must appear flawless, all cracks and crevices momentarily hidden. One wrong move, one wrong syllable, one wrong breath, and the house of cards that is Lucius's rage will inevitably fall down. And when that happens, Draco knows that no mercy will be spared on him. Malfoy men are tough, according to his father. They don't slip up, adhering strictly to generational — and foundational — pureblood values that have been instilled beaten into them.
And somehow, before Lucius even speaks, Draco knows that he's landed himself in trouble.
"I had to be here" replies Lucius, coolly surveying his firstborn offspring, "Dumbledore was able to hold this event only with my....contributions".
Draco's skin prickles at the fact that he's used "my" instead of "our".
"I also learned something of interest" he replies, stalking closer to Draco, "The Dark Lord is displeased with the scant information we've recieved about her . Have you even attempted going about the task I informed you of?"
"I-I'm trying" Draco falters, "But it's hard to get close to her without looking suspicious. Potter and his friends are constantly hanging around her —"
"Are you telling me that you're failing?" questions Lucius, eyes hardening within a millisecond.
"No, Father, I —"
Draco is suddenly shoved into the hedge, the tip of Lucius's wand pressed into his throat. He chokes, audibly, as the sharp tip of Lucius's boot digs into his calf in a painful manner.
"Listen here, boy" snarls the older Malfoy, barely concealing his rage, "I did not affiliate our family with the Dark Lord so my first-born son could act like a fucking chicken and try to back out of a task which wouldn't have been given to anyone less honorable. You do not get a choice in this. I don't care about what you have to do. Beg, seduce, grovel, flirt, you have until the end of term to gain her trust? Is that clear?"
It's times like these where Draco wishes he could sink into the ground and disappear forever. Whatever exuberance he had a few moments ago is gone, replaced by cold, dead horror. The threat in Lucius's angry tone is clear; if he fails, somehow, to earn Maya Rajesh's trust, everything and anything he knows will crumble into dust. His house, his parents, his sister, all of them will be gone. He will be known as the black sheep, the one who sank instead of swimming. He'll be a disgrace to the Malfoy name.
A blood-traitor.
"Y-Yes, sir" answers Draco, swallowing the fear that threatens to jump out of his bones.
Maya sleeps soundly that night, more than she has in a long time. She doesn't know why that is — maybe it's because of how long the ball was, all the dancing she got roped into (the sore muscles in her legs are a testament to that), Percy's boasting that she had to endure for over an hour, or maybe just the fact that she had to escort a very drunk (and mischief-ridden) Diana back to their dorm after chasing her all over the school.
Don't even ask how that went.
She sleeps so deeply, dreamlessly that it feels almost as though someone has beat her up when she finally stirs awake, arms and legs aching as she stretches, groaning, watching the soft winter sunlight filter in through their window at the Gryffindor tower. A momentary peace stills over the three of them; Maya just waking up, Diana snoring with serenity, sleeping off her hangover under her ivory-colored covers, `the sound of running water from the bathroom indicating that Hermione is inside. It's just the three of them, peacefully going about their routines for yet another day at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft & Wizardry, where the year is finally drawing to a close.
Maya's eyes widen as she catches sight of her yellow and white bangles from the previous night scattered over the dresser, her earrings in the same sort of disarray. Though her clothes are neatly folded, top and skirt resting on a nearby chair, the sight of them is jarring, rapidly shattering the facade of peace that had existed around her moments before. They bring back the memories of the previous night; condescending smirks, his icy hands on her waist, guarded conversation that seemed to light something inside her in the most subtle of ways.
By the Angel, what has she done to herself?
Up until now, Maya Rajesh has always seen Draco Malfoy as an annoyance — a cocky, entitled prick who gets off on having power over other people. He was never of real importance to her — he still isn't , Maya tells herself — but something about last night, be it the "romantic" lighting, ethereal atmosphere and just generally couple-y vibes have made her notice him in an entirely different way.
It's not like Maya's completely innocent; She knows what a crush feels like, hell, she's had one or two over the years. Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic, that cute dance instructor with the dark hair and tanned skin that sent her heart racing because he decided to smile at her one day, Maya is no stranger to the feelings of budding romance — although nothing has really come out of her previous attractions thus far. But Maya isn't even sure whether she can call her emotions — the word instincts would be more accurate, actually — towards him a crush. She doesn't even like him — his personality is pure shit, to be honest — in fact, she detests him. But there's something, something else. A tiny, crystallized shard of a feeling Maya can't describe.
And it frustrates her beyond all rational belief.
Maya's mother is one of the wisest people she knows. Unlike herself, Nandini is pragmatic, calm, knowledge ready to be shared in the event of a crisis. One of her favorite sayings is " chai jatil vichaaron ke maadhyam se kaam karane ka ek tareeka hai " or, when translated into English, "Tea is a way of working through complex ideas". Some might find this musing philosophical, an arcane metaphor for a different meaning entirely. But in the Rajesh household, the truth of it is very much literal.
You know what they say; A cup of hot tea is a stepping stone for the mind.
Actually, nobody says that.
Nevertheless, after quickly casting a brushing charm on her teeth — she's too tired to crawl out of bed — Maya conjures water into a mug, then heats it up with a flick of her wand. She grabs the box of mahgrebi powder from under her bed — an instant version of a certain blend of Moroccan mint tea that Maya's in love with. After stirring the green powder into the water until it dissolves, Maya duplicates the cup of tea twice, so that there's enough for her dorm mates, one of whom has just emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of cinnamon-scented mist.
"Thanks" replies Hermione, somewhat subdued, cradling the warm mug as Maya hands it to her. Her expression is crestfallen, considering the screaming match between Ron and her at the end of last night. And though Hermione might disagree, Maya thinks he deserves every bit of it, the jealous prat.
"S'going on?" comes a groggy voice from her right.
Diana immediately groans as the light hits her eyes, using her elbow to shield herself from the pain. Maya immediately draws in the curtains subtly, knowing the symptoms of post-drunkenness quite well.
What? She's around Magnus 70% of the time. A girl has to know these things.
" Good morning, sunshine, " replies Maya, hiding a smirk as she takes a sweet sip of her tea. Diana scowls at her, the foul expression looking out of place on her usually serene face.
It takes a few moments for the Hufflepuff to even be able to piece together words.
"What — happened — last night?" stutters Diana, voice hoarse from the copious amounts of firewhiskey-laced punch poured down her throat. Hermione snickers behind her mug as Maya flares, "I-I can barely remember anything"
"Oh, I don't know " replied Maya, sarcastically, "Maybe you're currently hungover because someone decided to chug over a gallon of spiked punch and wreak havoc all over the castle — and mind it, forcing me to chase you across it!"
Diana pales.
"I — what?"
Maya sighs, rubbing her temples with frustration. She hands the younger girl her mug of peppermint tea, which seems to help as Diana takes a deep, shuddering sip, closing her eyes at the feeling of warmth trickling down to het toes.
"You did some ....... pretty crazy shit"
"Like what?" Diana frowns — as best as she can in her weakened state.
Maya groans, irritation flashing through her at the chaotic memories of the previous night.
"You tried to stick Marshmallows on the doorframe of Snape's office" she states, causing Diana's eyes to widen. Hermione snickers, almost spitting out her tea from the force of laughter that escapes her lips, "With a permanent sticking charm, might I add."
"Did I succeed?" questions Diana, lightening the mood. Maya rolls her eyes.
" Obviously not. You just kept running around, shouting things at people — there was a couple sincerely snogging outside the great hall, and you cheered and told them to get into it — but it was utter chaos. You're so lucky that no teachers found out"
Diana lies back on the bed in pure shock, to Maya's amusement, groaning as she runs her hands through her bedraggled hair.
"I'm never going near alcohol again"
"Good" Maya replies, somewhat relieved
𝐉𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
Time seems to speed up in the next few days. The new term starts, Maya and Diana heading off to their respective classes, the next week passing by in a flurry of classes and homework. As February approaches, snow is still thick upon the grounds, and the greenhouse window are covered in condensation, so thick that they can’t see out of them in Herbology. Nobody is looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures much in this weather, though as Ron says, the skrewts will probably warm them up nicely, either by chasing them, or blasting off so forcefully that Hagrid’s cabin will catch fire.
When they arrive at Hagrid’s cabin, however, they find an elderly witch with closely cropped gray hair and a very prominent chin standing before his front door.
“Hurry up, now, the bell rang five minutes ago,” she barks at them, as they struggle towards her through the snow.
“Who’re you?” says Ron, staring at her. “Where’s Hagrid?”
“My name is Professor Grubbly-Plank,” she says, briskly. “I am your temporary Care of Magical Creatures teacher.”
“Where’s Hagrid?” Harry repeats loudly.
“He is indisposed,” says Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.
Soft and unpleasant laughter reach Maya’s ears. She turns; Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins are joining the class. All of them look gleeful, and none of them look surprised to see Professor Grubbly-Plank.
Suddenly, Maya has a very, very bad feeling about this class.
“This way, please,” says Professor Grubbly-Plank, and she strides off around the paddock where the Beauxbatons horses are shiver-
ing. Harry, Ron, Hermione & Maya follow her, looking back over their shoulders at Hagrid’s cabin. All the curtains are closed.
"What’s wrong with Hagrid?” questions Maya, hurrying to catch up with Professor Grubbly-Plank.
“Never you mind,” she says, as though Professor Grubbly-Plank thinks she's being nosy.
“I do mind, though,” says Maya, hotly. “What’s up with him?”
Professor Grubbly-Plank acts as though she can't her Maya. She leads them past the paddock where the huge Beauxbatons horses
are standing, huddled against the cold, and towards a tree on the edge of the forest, where a large and beautiful unicorn is tethered. Maya gasps. Many of the girls “oooooh!” at the sight of the unicorn.
“Oh it’s so beautiful!” whispers Lavender Brown. “How did she get it? They’re supposed to be really hard to catch!”
The unicorn is so brightly white it makes the snow all around them look gray. It's pawing the ground nervously with its golden hooves and throwing back its horned head.
“Boys keep back!” barks Professor Grubbly-Plank, throwing out an arm and catching Harry hard in the chest, who groans on the other side of her. “They prefer the woman’s touch, unicorns. Girls to the front, and approach with
care, come on, easy does it. . . .”
She and the girls walked slowly forward toward the unicorn, Maya staying behind, leaving the boys standing near the paddock fence, watching. The moment Professor Grubbly-Plank was out of earshot, Harry turns to Ron, right in Maya's line of hearing at the back of the crowd.
“What d’you reckon’s wrong with him? You don’t think a skrewt — ?”
“Oh he hasn’t been attacked, Potter, if that’s what you’re thinking,” says Malfoy softly. “No, he’s just too ashamed to show his big, ugly face.”
Back to being a prick again? Maya thinks to herself, leaning against the fence as she studies the scene, waiting for her turn with the unicorn.
“What d’you mean?” says Harry sharply.
Malfoy puts his hand inside the pocket of his robes and pulls out a folded page of newsprint.
Oh no.
“There you go,” he says . “Hate to break it to you, Potter. . . .”
He smirks as Harry snatches the page, Maya stalking over to read it behind him, unfolds it, and reads it, with Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville looking over their shoulders. It's an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.
DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE
Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the parthuman Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.
Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed theposition of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.
An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being “very frightening.”
“I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm,” says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. “We all hate Hagrid, but we’re just too scared to say anything.”
Draco Malfoy, you little shit! Maya thinks to herself, enraged, Who the fuck does he think he is?
Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed “Blast-Ended Skrewts,” highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions.
“I was just having some fun,” he says, before hastily changing the subject.
As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not — as he has always pretended — a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of HeWho-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsiblefor some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.
While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.
In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who’s fall from
power — thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend — but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry
Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.
, Harry finishes reading and looks up at Ron, whose mouth is hanging open, and Maya, whose teeth are gritted in pure fury.
“How did she find out?” whispers Ron.
“What d’you mean, ‘we all hate Hagrid’?” Harry spits at Malfoy, “What’s this rubbish about him” — he points at Crabbe — “get-
ting a bad bite off a flobberworm? They haven’t even got teeth!”
Crabbe is sniggering, apparently very pleased with himself.
“Well, I think this should put an end to the oaf’s teaching career,” says Malfoy, his eyes glinting. “Half-giant . . . and there was me thinking he’d just swallowed a bottle of Skele-Gro when he was young. . . . None of the mummies and daddies are going to like this at all. . . . They’ll be worried he’ll eat their kids, ha, ha. . . .”
“You —” sputters Harry, outraged.
Maya finishes the job for him.
"You xenophobic prick" she spits, venom spewed from every inch of her tone, "Were you really so desperate for you r fifteen minutes of fame that you decided to discredit a teacher in order to satisfy your thirst for attention? I thought you were bad before, but by the Angel, this is a new level of low. And that thing with the Hippogriff — "
"You weren't even there" scoffs Malfoy, though with decidedly less malice than she's used to. Maya studies him with caution; His expression is downcast, disappointed , as if she's actually hurt him. There's a sudden openness in his eyes — as if she's managed to break through an invisible layer of whatever surrounds his innermost mind. He looks at her with curiosity, like a cat surveying it's prey, gauging what she'll do next.
And for some reason, it unsettles her. Why is she the object of interest in this conversation? And why isn't he trying to hurt her, the venom laced into his tone on many previous occasions suddenly dimmed?
Is he planning something?
"From the looks of it," replies Maya, trying to maintain the same flare that she had moments before, "I have a suspicion that you provoked the bird”
Mission Accomplished.
Malfoy's face flushes red, and Maya knows from his expression, that she's hit a nerve.
“Are you paying attention over there?”
Professor Grubbly-Plank’s voice carries over to the boys; the girls are all clustered around the unicorn now, stroking it. Harry is so angry that the Daily Prophet article shakes in his hands as he turns to stare unseeingly at the unicorn, whose many magical properties Professor Grubbly-Plank is now enumerating in a loud voice, so that the boys could hear too. Maya throws Draco Malfoy the dirtiest look she can muster, before slinging her bag over her shoulder and walking back to the group of girls.
Draco Malfoy is a prick, she reminds herself A prejudiced, nasty, attention-seeking prick.
A prick whom she certainly does not find herself drawn to.
There's a Hogsmeade visit halfway through January. Hermione is very surprised that Harry is going to go, considering the second task is in less than a month.
“I just thought you’d want to take advantage of the common room being quiet,” she says. “Really get to work on that egg.”
“Oh I — I reckon I’ve got a pretty good idea what it’s about now,” Harry replies, a little too quickly for Maya's taste.
“Have you really?” says Hermione, looking impressed. “Well done!”
He, Ron, Maya and Hermione leave the castle together on Saturday and set off through the cold, wet grounds toward the gates. As they pass the Durmstrang ship moored in the lake, they see Viktor Krum emerge onto the deck, dressed in nothing but swimming trunks. He's very skinny indeed, but apparently a lot tougher than he looks, because he climbs up onto the side of the ship, stretches out his arms, and dives, right into the lake.
“He’s mad!” says Harry, staring at Krum’s dark head as it bobs out into the middle of the lake. “It must be freezing, it’s January!”
“It’s a lot colder where he comes from,” says Hermione. “I suppose it feels quite warm to him.”
“Yeah, but there’s still the giant squid,” says Ron. He doesn’t sound anxious — if anything, he sounds hopeful. Hermione notices his tone of voice and frowned.
“He’s really nice, you know,” she says. “He’s not at all like you’d think, coming from Durmstrang. He likes it much better here, he told me.”
Ron says nothing.
The pub is as crowded as ever. Harry goes up to the bar with the other three and orders four butterbeers from Madam Rosmerta. Malfoy isn’t here, notices Maya, a twinge of relief appearing in her mind.
“Doesn’t he ever go into the office?” Hermione whispers suddenly. “Look!”
She points into the mirror behind the bar, and Maya sees Ludo Bagman reflected there, sitting in a shadowy corner with a bunch of goblins. Bagman is talking very fast in a low voice to the goblins, all of whom have their arms crossed and are looking rather menacing.
It’s a bit odd, Maya thinks, that Bagman is here at the Three Broomsticks, on a weekend when there’s no Triwizard events, and therefore no judging to be done. She glances at Bagman in the mirror. He looks strained again, quite as strained as he did that night in the forest before the Dark Mark had appeared.
But just then Bagman glances over at the bar, sees Harry, and stands up.
“In a moment, in a moment!” Maya hears him say brusquely to the goblins, and Bagman hurries through the pub towards Harry, his boyish grin back in place.
“Harry!” he says. “How are you? Been hoping to run into you! Everything going all right?”
“Fine, thanks,” says Harry.
“Wonder if I could have a quick, private word, Harry?” says Bagman eagerly. “You couldn’t give us a moment, you three, could you?”
“Er — okay,” says Ron, and he, Hermione & Maya go off to find a table. Harry appears to be in serious conversation with Bagman for a few minutes, before Fred & George arrive, and he rejoins the three of them at their table.
“What did he want?” Ron questions, the moment Harry sits down.
“He offered to help me with the golden egg,” says Harry.
“He shouldn’t be doing that!” replies Hermione, looking very shocked. “He’s one of the judges! And anyway, you’ve already worked it out — haven’t you?”
“Er . . . nearly,” says Harry, trying to sound convincing, which comes off as anything but to Maya’s years.
“Well, I don’t think Dumbledore would like it if he knew Bagman was trying to persuade you to cheat!” says Hermione, still looking deeply disapproving. “I hope he’s trying to help Cedric as much!”
“He’s not, I asked,” says Harry.
“What else did he say?” questions Maya, warmth spreading down to her toes as she takes a sip of her butterbeer, eager to change the subject.
“The goblins at his table, apparently they were looking for Crouch” clarifies Harry, to Maya’s surprise.
“Isn’t he at the Ministry or something?” she asks, confused, “Why would they be looking for him here?”
“Apparently, they’ve got no idea where he is” continues Harry, “He’s stopped coming to work for the past couple weeks. Percy apparently says he’s ill, because all he’s doing is sending in instructions by owl. Bagman’s scared that Rita Skeeter’s going to work it up into something sinister, that he’s gone missing like Bertha Jorkins”
“That’s definitely fishy…” agrees Maya, a frown on her face.
“What happened to her anyway?” asks Hermione, leaning forward with interest.
“There are people looking, apparently. ” — ‘about time’, mutters Ron — “He said that it was very strange. She arrived in Albania, had a cousin there or something. And then she left the cousin’s house to go south and see an aunt . . .disappeared along the way. She didn’t seem like the type to elope. Then he started talking about the egg, and, well. . .”
“Maybe Percy’s poisoning him,” says Ron, airily. “Probably thinks if Crouch snuffs it he’ll be made head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”
Hermione gives Ron a don’t-joke-about-things-like-that look, and says, “Funny, goblins looking for Mr. Crouch. . . . They’d normally deal with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.”
“Crouch can speak loads of different languages, though,” says Harry. “Maybe they need an interpreter.”
“Worrying about poor ’ickle goblins, now, are you?” Ron asks Hermione. “Thinking of starting up S.P.U.G. or something? Society for the Protection of Ugly Goblins?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” says Hermione sarcastically. “Goblins don’t need protection. Haven’t you been listening to what Professor Binns has been telling us about goblin rebellions?”
“No,” say Harry and Ron together. Maya rolls her eyes at the pair of them.
“Well, they’re quite capable of dealing with wizards,” saysHermione, taking another sip of butterbeer. “They’re very clever. They’re not like house-elves, who never stick up for themselves.”
“Uh-oh,” says Ron, staring at the door.
Rita Skeeter has just entered — to Maya’s mingled anger and horror. She’s wearing banana-yellow robes today; her long nails are painted shocking pink, and accompanied by her paunchy photographer. She buys drinks, and she and the photographer make their way through the crowds to a table nearby, the four of them giving her looks of pure loathing as she approaches. She’s talking fast, and looking very satisfied about something.
“. . . didn’t seem very keen to talk to us, did he, Bozo? Now, why would that be, do you think? And what’s he doing with a pack of goblins in tow anyway? Showing them the sights . . . what nonsense . . . he was always a bad liar. Reckon something’s up? Think we should do a bit of digging? ‘Disgraced Ex-Head of Magical Games and Sports, Ludo Bagman . . .’ Snappy start to a sentence, Bozo — we just need to find a story to fit it —”
“Trying to ruin someone else’s life?” says Harry loudly.
A few people look around. Rita Skeeter’s eyes widen behind her jeweled spectacles as she sees who’s spoken.
“Harry!” she says, beaming. “How lovely! Why don’t you come and join — ?”
“I wouldn’t come near you with a ten-foot broomstick,” says Harry furiously. “What did you do that to Hagrid for, eh?”
Rita Skeeter raises her heavily penciled eyebrows.
“Our readers have a right to the truth, Harry. I am merely doing my —”
“ That was your idea of the truth?!” questions Maya, tone scathing.
“Who cares if he’s half-giant?” Harry shouts. “There’s nothing wrong with him!”
The whole pub goes very quiet. Madam Rosmerta is staring over from behind the bar, apparently oblivious to the fact that the flagon she is filling with mead’s overflowing. Rita Skeeter’s smile flickers very slightly, but she hitches it back up almost at once; she snapped open her crocodile-skin handbag, pulls out her Quick-Quotes Quill, and says,
“How about giving me an interview about the Hagrid you know, Harry? The man behind the muscles? Your unlikely friendship and the reasons behind it. Would you call him a father substitute?”
Hermione stands up very abruptly, her butterbeer clutched in her hand as though it is a grenade.
“You horrible woman,” she says, through gritted teeth, “you don’t care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won’t they? Even Ludo Bagman —”
“Sit down, you silly little girl, and don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” says Rita Skeeter coldly, her eyes hardening as they fall on Hermione. “I know things about Ludo Bagman that
would make your hair curl . . . not that it needs it —” she adds, eyeing Hermione’s bushy hair.
And that’s the last straw for Maya.
“Let’s go,” said Hermione, “c’mon, Harry — Ron . . .”
“Don’t talk to her like that” snarls Maya, absolutely done with the vile woman standing in front of her. There’s a growing tension at the base of her skull, white-hot anger begging to be unleashed on the disgraced reporter.
Rita Skeeter smiles rather nastily, chewing on her quill as she surveys Maya.
“And who might you be?” she questions, false sweetness laced into her tone, “Oh wait! I know — you’re Arjun Desai’s daughter, aren’t you? Maya. Tell me, sweetheart, how is your lovely mother doing these days? Has she moved onto someone else, perhaps another heir with a bank account that could buy an island or two? Or — ooh, I know! — is she expecting another child, perhaps legitimate this time?”
A collective gasp resonates from the trio behind her, Hermione looking livid at the way Maya has been insulted. The girl in question is struggling to keep herself from hexing the nasty reporter in front of her, Hermione’s grip on her wrist being the only thing keeping her next to them.
It takes a few moments for Maya to even be able to form a coherent response.
“I may be a bastard, but at least I’m not a self-absorbed hag like you” Maya responds, coolly, her rage under control. Rita Skeeter’s face falls, for a split second, a moment of childish triumph going through her at being able to have the last word, “And if I ever hear you talk about my mother like that again, perhaps I’ll let Dumbledore know about your little information tactics ”
“Come on, Maya” replies Hermione, indignantly, “Let’s go!!”
Maya lets Hermione drag her out, ignoring the whispers that pervade their way to the door.
“Keep your eyes open, will you?” shouts Skeeter, after them, “The public is hungry for the truth; We could even fit in a special interview sometime —”
“She’ll be after you two next, Hermione, Maya” says Ron in a low and worried voice as they walk quickly back up the street.
“Let her try!” replies Hermione defiantly; she’s shaking with rage. “I’ll show her! Silly little girl, am I? Oh, I’ll get her back for this. First Harry, then Hagrid . . .”
“I can’t believe she had the guts to say that about my mother” fumes Maya, angrily, “ ‘ Illegitimate daughter’ I swear to God, she’s going to get exposed someday, and I’ll be there to applaud her as she falls— “
“You don’t want to go upsetting Rita Skeeter,” says Ron nervously. “I’m serious, Maya ,she’ll dig up something on you both —”
“My parents don’t read the Daily Prophet. She can’t scare me into hiding!” says Hermione, now striding along so fast that it’s all Harry and Ron can do to keep up with her.
“Mine doesn’t trust mainstream media” replies Maya scathingly, “I used to think that was weird, but now I know why — all these reporters write are bullshit. Seriously, what happened to ethical journalism?”
“It’s practically dead now” interjects Hermione, “These people, they’d do anything for a juicy story — given the lengths that bloody Skeeter woman was willing to go”
“One of these days….” mutters Maya, matching her fury, “Karma’s going to screw that disgusting hag over. Who actually believes her?”
“Loads of people, apparently,” replies Ron, uncomfortable, “She’s got quite a lot of sway with the public — though none of them actually know how she gets her information.”
Then something clicks in Maya’s head.
Her mother always used to talk about how the world needed more journalists — fair, ethical writers who would expose issues brushed aside by big newspapers. And as a kid, after hearing about it for a while, Maya would look up to journalists like Barkha Dutt, whose field reporting in the 1999 Kargil conflict brought her to prominence, winning the coveted Padma Shri award for her bravery in the 2004 tsunami. The ambition was encouraged as a kid, fostered into a passion that still stands today.
And after what happened a few moments ago, Maya might just act on it.
You said you’d already worked out that egg clue!” says Hermione indignantly.
“Keep your voice down!” says Harry crossly. “I just need to — sort of fine-tune it, all right?”
He, Ron, Maya and Hermione are sitting at the very back of the Charms class with a table to themselves. They’re supposed to be practicing the opposite of the Summoning Charm today — the Banishing Charm. Owing to the potential for nasty accidents when objects kept flying across the room, Professor Flitwick has given each student a stack of cushions on which to practice, the theory being that these won’t hurt anyone if they go off target. It’s a good theory, but it’s not working very well. Neville’s aim is so poor that he keeps accidentally sending much heavier things flying across the room — Professor Flitwick, for instance.
“Just forget the egg for a minute, all right?” Harry hisses as Professor Flitwick goes whizzing resignedly past them, landing on top of a large cabinet. “I’m trying to tell you about Snape and
Moody. . . .”
This class is an ideal cover for a private conversation, as everyones having far too much fun to pay them any attention. Harry’s been recounting his adventures of the previous night in whispered installments for the last half hour.
“Snape said Moody’s searched his office as well?” Ron whispers, his eyes alight with interest as he Banishes a cushion with a sweep of his wand (it soars into the air and knocks Parvati’s hat off). “What . . . d’you reckon Moody’s here to keep an eye on Snape as well as Karkaroff?”
“Well, I dunno if that’s what Dumbledore asked him to do, but he’s definitely doing it,” says Harry, waving his wand without paying much attention, so that his cushion does an odd sort of belly flop off the desk. “Moody said Dumbledore only lets Snape stay here because he’s giving him a second chance or something. . . .”
“What?” said Ron, his eyes widening, his next cushion spinning high into the air, ricocheting off the chandelier, and dropping heavily onto Flitwick’s desk. “Harry . . . maybe Moody thinks Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!”
“Oh Ron,” says Hermione, shaking her head sceptically, “we thought Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and it turned out he was saving Harry’s life, remember?”
“Besides,” adds Maya, successfully landing her cushion into the box along with Hermione’s, “I doubt he’d have a good reason to do it. Snape may be a prick, but I doubt he’d try to endanger your life, Harry”
“I don’t care what Moody says,” Hermione goes on. “Dumbledore’s not stupid. He was right to trust Hagrid and Professor Lupin, even though loads of people wouldn’t have given them jobs, so why shouldn’t he be right about Snape, even if Snape is a bit —”
“— evil,” says Ron promptly. “Come on, Hermione, why are all these Dark wizard catchers searching his office, then?”
“Why has Mr. Crouch been pretending to be ill?” says Hermione, ignoring Ron. “It’s a bit funny, isn’t it, that he can’t manage to come to the Yule Ball, but he can get up here in the middle of the night when he wants to?”
“You just don’t like Crouch because of that elf, Winky,” says Ron, sending a cushion soaring into the window.
“You just want to think Snape’s up to something,” says Hermione, airily waving her wand.
“I just want to know what Snape did with his first chance, if he’s on his second one,” says Harry grimly, and his cushion flies straight across the room and lands neatly on top of Maya’’s.
“Probably almost got fired for never washing his hair,” mutters Maya, as Ron snorts.
“Where is he?” mutters Diana, over the roar of the crowd. It’s the day of the second task, and the fourth champion has yet to show up, “D’you think he’s backing out?”
“He can’t, remember?” reminds Maya, anxiously adjusting her scarf, “Once you’re in the competition, it’s impossible to withdraw.”
“Wait, there he is!”
Maya’s shoulders sigh with relief as Harry jogs onto the platform, looking pale and wan in comparison to the other champions. Percy glares at him for a moment, disapproving words leaving his lips, before Bagman speaks again, magically-amplified voice booming across the courtyard.
“Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . three!”
The whistle echoes shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupt with cheers and applause. From where Maya’s standing, she can see Harry stuffing something into his mouth, but she’s too far to make out what it is. He wades deeper into the muddy water, until it’s at his waist. Harry looks as though he’s waiting for something, an effect that will propel him forward. She hears the jeers of the Slytherins as the minutes pass by.
Then suddenly, something happens; Harry gasps, hands flying to the sides of his neck. He chokes, quite audibly, as Diana’s eyebrows raise in shock.
Suddenly, Harry plunges into the water.
“Is he mad?! ” Maya practically shrieks.
“Probably” replies Diana, equally as tense.
The crowd is silent with anticipation, Maya’s growing anxiety heightened as the minutes pass by, none of the champions appearing. What if it’s a trap, set by the very person who put Harry’s name into the cup? And if it is, why would they do it in front of all these people? To make a spectacle, prove the best of the best don’t live up to their name?
“Is he going to come back?” whispers Diana, now just as worried as Maya. Although they’re not that close, the thought of having Harry never come back up would definitely have a large effect on Maya. And Diana too, judging by how she keeps craning her neck to look beneath the water every two seconds.
Suddenly, the surface of the lake is broken. Cedric gasps for air, breathing heavily. His arms are locked around someone —
Cho,
Maya realises, as she takes a closer look at the familiar Ravenclaw. The crowd cheers as both of them swim back to the podium, climbing onto the platform as blankets and hot chocolate are handed to them.
Oh.
That’s the objective of the game, Maya realizes, with shock. “They have an hour to recover what has been taken from them” how could she have been so stupid?! The people that are the most important to them are underwater, the champion’s job being to save them before the time is up.
Maya knows the rumors about mermaids residing in the lake. The thought makes her shiver. In actuality, they’re nothing like the Disney movies portray, pretty and perfect, conveniently lying on a rock for the male gaze. She’s heard the horror stories from sailors who tried to catch them — violent, fiercely protective of their clans, not afraid to spill blood. It’s in human nature to kill — a principle that Shadowhunters use to excuse the violence they use against demons, and sometimes, downworlders — Maya knows this, but the thought that Dumbledore is allowing this to happen, sending his own students down there aware of the risks and what could possibly happen to them, it makes her shiver with horror at what they’ll have to face in the final task.
No wonder you had to be of age to enter.
Krum is the next one to swim back to the shore with Hermione in his arms — Maya actually finds the two of them together kind of sweet — his features morphing from that of a shark to a human again. She doesn’t miss the relieved look that comes over his face when he sees that Hermione is alright, safely sitting next to Cho as she drinks a mug of steaming hot chocolate.
While they wait for the next person, Maya calculates who could possibly be left; Harry doesn’t have a girlfriend, as far as she knows, so the “important” person has to be one of his friends, preferably Ron, since Krum already has Hermione. But for Fleur, she honestly has no clue. Maybe it’s that little girl that’s always with her, with the exact same silvery-blonde hair to her waist, her sister, maybe?
But when Fleur resurfaces, there’s no one with her. She’s injured, clearly, from the crescent parts that marr her robes, and crying, yelling something distraught in French as people help her onto the podium.
“Bloody hell…” mutters Diana, shocked at the third champion’s ghastly appearance, “Something must’ve attacked her on the way back….”
Fleur continues crying, gesturing at the water as they wait for Harry to appear. Maya checks her watch — it’s well past the allotted hour given to him. Her heart drops into her stomach at the thought of Harry never reappearing from the water.
Suddenly, Harry breaks the surface, cheers erupting from the entire audience, looking spectacularly relieved at surviving his second task. Ron is right behind him, both of them supporting a young girl, who Maya now recognizes as Gabrielle, Fleur’s younger sister. She reaches out for her younger sister even before they reach the platform, sobbing with relief as Gabrielle pats her head, somewhat awkwardly. Percy seizes Ron, immediately checking to see if he’s alright out of brotherly duty. Fleur says something to Harry in French, a grateful expression on her face before she suddenly kisses him on both cheeks, the younger boy looking both awestruck and taken aback. Diana snorts at the expression on his face as she does the same to Ron.
“It looks like he’s just discovered oxygen.”
Maya hides a laugh.
A few moments later, after the judges have come out of their huddle, Ludo Bagman speaks again.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows. . . .
“Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points.”
Applause from the stands ensues.
“I deserved zero,” says Fleur throatily, shaking her magnificent head.
“Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour.” Enormous cheers erupt from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Maya sees Cho give Cedric a glowing look. “We therefore award him forty-seven points.”
“Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points.”
Karkaroff claps particularly hard, looking very superior.
“Harry Potter used gillyweed to great effect,” Bagman continues. “He returned last, and well outside the time limit of an hour. However, the Merchieftainess informs us that Mr. Potter was first to reach the hostages, and that the delay in his return was due to his determination to return all hostages to safety, not merely his own.”
Ron and Hermione both give Harry half-exasperated, half-commiserating looks.
“Most of the judges,” and here, Bagman gives Karkaroff a very nasty look, “feel that this shows moral fiber and merits full marks. However . . . Mr. Potter’s score is forty-five points.”
Whoops and cheers erupt from the stands, louder than ever before. Maya stands, beaming with pride as she claps.
“Whoo!” yells Diana, pumping her fist in the air, “Go Harry!”
Go Harry indeed, Maya thinks to herself.
“Hey, wait!”
Maya’s walking back from the lake when she hears the familiar voice call out behind her. She frowns, turning around as Diana chatters with the Trio ahead of her.
Draco Malfoy runs after her, stopping a few feet away so he can catch his breath. A flare of irritations pricks her previous bubble of enthusiasm; what does he want with her now?
“Come to piss me off again, Malfoy?” she questions, dryly as he rolls his eyes, briefly clasping her arm to lead her to an alcove, where barely anyone will be able to see them. His touch sends a brief strait of warmth through her lower abdomen, “What do you want me to do this time? Curse Harry? Prepare a potion for you to seduce Pans-”
“Oh, shut up, will you?” he scoffs. Maya raises her eyebrows at his interesting choice of words, “Don’t get your wand in a knot.”
“What? Don’t expect me to not think the worst of you.” she replies, scathingly, crossing her, “After what you pulled with Hagrid — “
“Oh come on, you still can’t be mad about that — “
“ Still be mad?” Maya replies, incredulously, “You almost got him sacked with that interview you gave — to Rita Skeeter, of all people. So yeah, I have every right to be angry with you, Malfoy.”
He pales, visibly for a moment; It’s clear that some part of her previous statement has gotten to him. Draco Malfoy then meets her eyes — Maya resisting the urge to shiver by the shining determination in them.
“I came to ask what you are”
Maya falters, all previous thoughts in her head forgotten.
“What did you just say?”
Something in him seems to straighten up at her reaction; Malfoy squares his shoulders, gaze steely. His voice turns quiet.
“You and I both know that you’re far from normal, Rajesh. That little display of shape-shifting in the Room of Requirement — I can’t stop thinking about it. No normal witch would have reacted as quickly as you did. In fact, I don’t even think you’re a witch anymore. If we’re going to keep this agreement, I need to know what exactly I’m working with. So explain, please.”
“What exactly are you?”
Chapter 16: Chapter 16
Chapter Text
tw: anxiety, racial slander (kind of), mentions of a breakdown, mentions of an abortion (very briefly) this is an emotionally sensitive chapter, but nothing dark......at least, not compared to chapter twenty, which will arrive in the next month.
𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
"I-I DON'T KNOW"
For the first time since he's met her, Maya Rajesh looks thrown, completely bewildered. Her mouth opens, then closes again, stuttering, as if she can't even form words. Draco Malfoy doesn't know how to feel about this — on one hand, he's enjoying being the one doing the throwing, but a small part of him is unnerved by her cluelessness and clear discomfort.
"What do you mean, you don't know?" he questions, tone slightly less abraisive.
She shoots him an annoyed look.
"I mean" replies Maya Rajesh, gritting her teeth, "There isn't.......a word.....for what I am"
"Well, what do you call yourself?"
"A warlock" she replies, hands running through her hair as a small groan erupts from the back of her throat, "But that's not accurate either — wait a minute. Why the sudden change of heart? Are you trying to lure me into another one of your brilliant schemes again, Malfoy?"
"As much fun as it would be to do that, " replies Draco, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "I don't want anything from you. I just want to know what you are, for......research purposes"
She raises an eyebrow. Draco feels an inexplicable pang go through his abdomen.
"Research purposes?"
"You know what I mean," he replies, irritation cutting through his tone at the way she's deliberately prolonging his question, "Quit stalling and give me the answer."
"Ask nicely and maybe I'll consider it" she replies, taunting him. Draco raises his eyebrows, internally groaning at having no choice but to rise to the bait. He's the one who's usually playing the games — Draco admits this truthfully, with no remorse — but he didn't expect her to dish it right back to him. A Gryffindor, of all people, coming down to his level.
She's definitely less righteous than he thought.
"Fine" replies Draco, fists clenching as he growls the word out, "Please, Rajesh — "
"Maya" she corrects, the taunting expression slightly vanishing from her face. Draco frowns — why is she suddenly asking him to use her first name? He searches for the answer in her eyes, but they're hardened, glazed-over in a way that makes seeing beyond them impossible.
"Please, Maya" he corrects himself, somehow liking the sound of her name on his tongue, "Would it be possible for you to kindly tell me what you really are?"
"There," she replies, smugly, "That wasn't so hard, was it?"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake — "
"Alright, fine, fine" she replies, exasperated, throwing her hands up in surrender, "I'll tell you. Though it's a bit of a long story — "
"I have time"
She narrows her eyes at him, sighing for a brief moment before she speaks.
"On my birth certificate, it says 'witch'," she replies, voice lowering, "But when I was born, the healers had no clue what I was. So they basically just wrote that as a fill-in. As I got older, I realized that I could do things that other kids my age couldn't — "
"Didn't you grow up around Shadowhunters?" he questions, as she shoots him a glare.
"I was getting to that" replies Rajesh — Maya, Draco corrects himself — , "Anyway, my mother quickly realized that I could Change — another word for the ability to shapeshift — " she adds, seeing his confused expression, " into anyone I wanted, as long as I had a piece of their clothing, or anything that they touched for a long period of time. She told me the truth — my dad - Arjun, obviously - wasn't my biological father. It was someone else, a Eidolon demon she'd met before the wedding —"
"A demon?" Draco questions, shocked. Maya Rajesh looks vaguely uncomfortable, squirming slightly in her spot before answering.
"Yeah, a demon" she replies, somewhat discomfited, "She doesn't like to talk about it. But I've been learning how to control them ever since I was four, and I'm pretty decent at it now."
Draco stands there for a few moments, trying to process what he just heard. His brain has gone kaput, completely refusing to work at the new information that has entered his ears. He feels overwhelmed, a confusing mix of feelings scattered through his mind. They fog up his rational thinking like steam on a window, like someone has just cast a confundus charm and left him there.
When he asked her what she was, he certainly didn't expect this. In fact, Draco isn't even sure what he expected. But the fact that she's demon spawn, normal-looking, hiding in plain sight among the other students all this time — it scares him, more than he'd like to admit.
"Malfoy?"
Draco jumps backward, quite violently, as Maya's — he still can't believe he's calling her that — eyes widen with shock. She's standing closer to him than before — a little too close, some would say. The air around them suddenly feels warm, charged with something he can't explain. It's like the Yule ball all over again, he can feel the heat of the magic underneath her skin, seeping out, trying to touch him. It should put him off, make him want to increase the distance between the two of them — but, oddly, it draws him in further, and Draco has to physically force himself to step back so he doesn't come off as touchy.
"Are you okay?" she questions, genuinely looking concerned, "I know it was a lot of information.....but you look like you've seen a ghost?"
"I'm fine" Draco replies, uncharacteristically nervous, running a sweaty hand through his hair, "I-I just needed a moment"
Maya Rajesh sighs, still looking at him oddly for a moment before she speaks again.
"Okay, well I should probably go," she states, somewhat awkwardly, "Diana will probably be wondering where I am, and I don't want to feed the rumor mill by coming back without an explanation. Remember, this stays between us."
Draco scoffs, all previous feelings vanishing and being replaced by annoyance.
"D'you really think I'm stupid enough to go around running my mouth about this to other people?"
She gives him an appraising look, coolly, from head to toe, in a way that makes a strange shiver go down the back of his spine.
"I wouldn't put it past you"
Draco rolls his eyes as she walks away, a few moments later, a strange feeling brewing in the pit of his stomach..
Maya Rajesh may be irritating, but you can't deny that she's something else entirely.
And he's amazed that he didn't figure out how literal that statement was before.
“But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve,” Ron assures Padma Patil, a few days later in the common room, who seems to be a lot keener on Ron now that he's getting so much attention and is making a point of talking to him every time they pass each other in the corridors. “I could’ve taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted.”
“What were you going to do, snore at them?” says, Hermione waspishly. People have been teasing her so much about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss that she's in a rather tetchy mood.
Ron’s ears go red, and thereafter, he reverts to the bewitched sleep version of events.
Maya tries to hide her amusement at their new dynamic.
As they enter March, the weather becomes drier, but cruel winds skin their hands and faces every time they go out onto the grounds. There are delays in the post because the owls keep getting blown off course. The brown owl that Harry sent to Sirius with the dates of the Hogsmeade weekend turns up at breakfast on Friday morning, with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry no sooner tears off Sirius’s reply than it takes flight, clearly afraid that it's going to be sent outside again. Maya doesn't pay attention to the contents of the letter, stirring her bowl of cornflakes with no appetite; it's that time of the month for her, and cramps are doubly worse, stealing away her appetite and forcing a constant grimace onto her face.
“He hasn’t come back to Hogsmeade?” says, Ron incredulously.
“It looks like it, doesn’t it?” says Hermione.
“I can’t believe him,” says Harry tensely, “if he’s caught . . .”
“Made it so far, though, hasn’t he?” says Ron. “And it’s not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore.”
Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle are standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson’s gang of Slytherin girls, when they all go down for their last lesson of the day, Double Potions. All of them are looking at something Maya can’t see and sniggering heartily. Pansy’s pug-like face peers excitedly around Goyle’s broad back as the four of them approach. Malfoy just looks oddly tense, and when their eyes meet, she immediately knows something's wrong.
“There they are, there they are!” giggles Parkinson, and the knot of Slytherins break apart. Maya sees that Pansy has a magazine in her hands — Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front shows a curly-haired witch, who's smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.
“You might find something to interest you in there, Granger, Rajesh!” Pansy says loudly, and she throws the magazine at them, Hermione
catches it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opens, and Snape beckons them all inside.
Hermione, Harry, Maya and Ron head for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape has turned his back on them to
write up the ingredients of today’s potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifles through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, she finds what they're looking for. Harry and Ron lean in closer. A color photograph of Harry heads a short piece entitled:
Harry Potter’s Secret Heartache (s)
A boy like no other, perhaps — yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys’ affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has “never felt this way about any other girl.”
However, it might not be Miss Granger’s doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys’ interest.
“She’s really ugly,” says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, “but she’d be well up to making a Love Potion, she’s quite brainy. I think that’s how she’s doing it.”
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. But all is not lost, however — Mr. Potter may have a second chance in the near future. Maya Rajesh, the illegitimate product of the Nephilim scandal that rocked the Indian pureblood community fourteen years ago, is often seen hanging around Harry and his friends, according to an inside source at Hogwarts.
"They're quite close," adds Pansy, yet again, "Even though she just transferred from America last year, she's managed to make a few friends in Gryffindor — how, I don't know. She's okay-looking — severely lacking in the height department — but none of us really know anything about her. Kind of cold, though — she's got a nasty mouth on her when provoked."
And this holds true. When asked for an interview to address the speculation around the whereabouts of her mother, Rajesh shouted something not permissible to print. The young witch certainly has a short temper, more so than that of her late father, who was known for his disdain towards the press. For Harry's sake, let's hope she hasn't inherited the manipulative streak present in Mrs. Subramanian — though at this point, even that is doubtful.
“I told you!” Ron hisses at Hermione as she stares down at the article. “I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She’s made you two out to be some sort of — of scarlet women!”
Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. Maya however, feels something prickling at her eyes. Her chest tightens, jaw clenching with pure fury as her nails dig into the wood of the bench.
“Scarlet woman?” repeats Hermione shaking with suppressed giggles as she looks around at Ron.
“It’s what my mum calls them,” Ron mutters, his ears going red.
“If that’s the best Rita can do, she’s losing her touch,” says Hermione, still giggling, as she throws Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. “What a pile of old rubbish.”
Maya wants to agree with her, but finds herself struggling to breathe instead, the breaths she can manage coming out shaky and uneven. A white-hot wave of anxiety washes over her, and she suddenly finds her hands shaking slightly.
What has she done?
As much as Maya hates to admit it — Ron was right; Pissing off Rita Skeeter has brought consequences she couldn't have even imagined. Her plan to lay low is practically dead at this point — what, with the way everyone's looking at her. She left New York to escape this kind of scrutiny, but now that the secret of her parentage is out for everyone, there's bound to be backlash — especially from the pureblood students, who already look down upon her because she's friends with the Trio.
And she can only imagine how bad it's going to be for Hermione.
Maya suddenly feels a violent lurch in her stomach and claps her hand over her mouth.
Why can't she just keep her fucking mouth shut?
"Maya?" questions Harry, looking very concerned, "You alright?"
A fresh wave of cold sweeps over her. Suddenly, Maya feels suffocated in the room full of people. She can't breathe at all, like something heavy is pressing down on her ribcage, the painful pressure radiating throughout the fragile bones.
"I-I need to go" she stammers, quietly, as Snape's back is turned. Maya ignores the protests of her friends, silently snatching her bag and slipping out of the open dungeon door. She walks as fast as she can, striding far away from the classroom. Maya knows this will get her in loads of trouble later, perhaps even landing herself in detention, but she can't. She physically can't think straight like this.
Once she's safely out of sight, away from any — more accurately, all people — Maya finally allows herself to let go.
A choked cry emanates from her lips, and she gasps, stumbling and falling against a wall in the process. Air rapidly fills and exits her lungs; Maya realizes too late that she's hyperventilating, the cracks that were always beneath her footing falling away and giving life to a chasm. One that feels like it's swallowing her whole as the tears stream down her face, making Maya's eyeliner run down her skin in navy-blue trails.
Everything has gone to shit.
And for once in her life, Maya Rajesh has no idea how to fix what she's gotten herself into.
It's an hour or so after classes have ended, and Draco's in the library. His fingers skim over the titles stacked on the bookshelves in the Transfiguration aisle, looking for one particular encyclopedia that contains the definitions needed to finish his essay. He can't remember the name for the life of him, but knows what the spine looks like, considering it's on his bedroom shelf back at home. Draco swears he saw it somewhere in this aisle, but for some reason, he can't remember where.
Then again, his memory has never been that reliable.
However, these thoughts soon leave his head, as he hears a strange sound reverberating from around the corner. Draco can’t discern exactly what it is; he ignores the disturbance and goes on searching for the book.
But when it happens again, distinctly louder, Draco recognizes it as a sniffle, someone wiping away their tears to mask the fact that they’re crying. He doesn’t know why, but it sends a strange pang through his chest — the voice of the person sounds vaguely familiar. Against his usual behaviour, Draco furrows an eyebrow, quietly walking towards the source of the sound. It’s in the aisle next to him, he realizes, with mingled curiosity and hesitance.
His eyes fly wide in shock at the sight in front of him.
Maya Rajesh is slumped against the other bookshelf, knees drawn up to her chest. Her dark hair is messily strewn over it’s shoulders, fallen out of it’s usual neat ponytail. Her bag is haphazardly scattered next to her, a few books falling out. She’s breathing heavily, and the cries that escape her lips between her breaths make something hurt inside him — and for the life of himself, Draco can’t figure out why that is.
The words escape his lips before he has a chance to stop himself.
“Maya?”
Her name feels interesting on his lips, foreign, a hint of something deeper. Maya’s head abruptly snaps up. Draco’s stomach lurches. Her eyes are reddened, and she sucks in a shaky breath. He can see the black-ish trails going down her cheeks, the way her wet lashes brush against the tips of her cheekbones, which are somehow more defined by the way the light hits them.
Then her face abruptly fills with cold horror, and they both freeze.
For a single moment, neither of them know what to say.
She breaks the silence first.
“Fancy seeing you here” states Maya Rajesh, though it sounds breathless, with a hint of fear, lacking the usual sass that so easily rolls off of her tongue, “Were you….following me or something?”
Against his will, Draco’s face flushes.
“N-no” he stammers, ashamed at the sudden stutter in his voices, “I was — I was doing homework.”
Even in her disheveled state, she still manages to raise a sardonic eyebrow.
“A likely story”
Draco sighs, momentarily closing his eyes as he runs a hand through her hair. A part of him is sick of the constant games that come with their interactions — for some reason, he wants to know why she’s spending her Friday evening sulking in the library. He sits down in his place, a safe distance away from her, but the position still feels oddly intimate.
“You saw the Prophet, didn’t you, Malfoy?” she questions, dryly, as if she’s read his mind. There’s a hint of vulnerability in her tone, hinting that there’s more that lies beneath her cold, indifferent exterior, “Skeeter’s decide to give me my fifteen minutes of fame — for all the wrong reasons, of course.”
Something prickles in him at her words. Draco isn’t exactly sensitive — he just pretends not to care — but the way she bites her lip, quietly staring down at the bottom shelf with tears in her eyes, it pricks something inside of him, a spot that, up until now, Draco wasn’t even aware existed.
“Are you - “ he tries, tone somewhat softer, “ Are you okay?”
Something changes in her expression, some wall that falls at the impact of her words. The previous arrogance is gone, and replaced with a blank slate. Her expression is emotionless, betraying a hint of surprise, but otherwise, he can’t tell what she’s thinking.
“I-” she states, tone somewhat quieter and smaller, “I don’t know”
Oh.
Draco feels very tetchy around her — he’s not exactly experienced with comforting crying people, in fact, he’s mostly uncomfortable around them. With Diana, a few quiet words and a pat on the back seem to do the trick, but with her…...Draco isn’t sure what to do. In fact, he doesn’t even know why this affects him, why he wants to comfort Maya Rajesh of all people.
“I never said anything — wrong — to her” replies Maya, a little shocked at her own words, then narrowing her eyes at his “oh really?” expression, “Okay, I might have snapped at her for a few seconds. But I didn’t curse at that woman, like she said. She - she kept going on and on about my mother — horrible, nasty things about how she was a gold digger” — her voice gets slightly choked up at this, “She called me illegitimate. Like I wasn’t even a person anymore.”
She scoffs, continuing.
“It’s not that different from what the Clave thinks of me, really.” her voice drops lower, getting somewhat insecure, “...They wanted my mother to have an abortion when she found out that she was pregnant with me. Said I was a “danger to society”. But she refused. She didn’t want them to have jurisdiction over her body. She wanted me to grow up away from the spotlight, from reporters, as normal as I possibly could be. And now…..”
Maya trails off, another tear running down her cheek as she makes an empty hand gesture.
“I feel like I’ve ruined everything for her. Before, it didn’t really matter to me who my parents were. I didn’t know about all of…….this. Shadowhunters aren’t exactly welcoming, but they aren’t openly racist either. According to the laws of the Clave, I’m not supposed to exist. I’m not allowed to exist. The only reason they haven’t done anything to sabotage my mother’s job is because I haven’t done anything to hurt their agenda, ruin their image. But if they see this article — which they probably will — we could lose everything. All because I forgot to think before I spoke”
There’s a few moments of silence. Maya wipes away the tears that have accumulated on her face, vanishing the black streaks with a snap of her fingers as Draco absorbs the information he just heard.
Draco isn’t really familiar with Shadowhunter government — the Clave — as Maya Rajesh like to call them. He didn’t know it was like this for her. Oppression, to him, is silent, mere words that never get put into action. To Draco, you can say whatever the hell you want, but in truth, there’s a very small chance it’s actually going to come true.
Apparently, he’s wrong.
He sighs, placing his head back against the bookshelf.
“I don’t think you’re a danger to society” he breathes out. Maya freezes, in the middle of tying her long locks back into a ponytail.
“What?” she whispers, shocked.
Draco resists the urge to groan at her sheer cluelessness. How in one second, she can go from talking about injustice to being utterly oblivious, he’ll never know.
“Sure, you’re a bit — annoying “ he bites the word out as she rolls her eyes, “Bossy. And way too angry for someone your size. But calling you a danger to society is a bit much. Are they really stupid enough to sack your mother over one article?”
“They — could.” she fires back, now looking doubtful. Draco frowns, having never seen that expression on her face before - an eyebrow lifted up in thought, nose slightly scrunched. It’s — becoming, he’ll give her that. Some would even go so far as to call it ‘cute’
But not him. Definitely not him.
“Overthinking seems to be your speciality, Rajesh” Draco replies, less smoothly than he intended, “Tell me, has there ever been a day where that brain of yours hasn’t blown things out of proportion?”
“Are you trying to insult me or compliment me?” she questions, usual sass back in place, with a hint of playfulness this time, “You can’t do both….Draco”
Oh Bloody Hell.
He might as well be turning into Weaselbee with the amount of cursing he’s doing.
Draco doesn’t know why — probably not the first time today — but the sound of his name on her lips is……..he doesn’t know how to describe it. It feels wrong and right all at once, contradictions woven into the syllables themselves. He doesn’t know why she manages to unsettle him so often, so easily. He’s not the type of person who gets thrown easily — in fact, Draco prides himself on his ability to keep his cool around girls.
Well, normal girls. Not ones who spew fire any chance they get.
There’s something different about her; nothing to do with the fact that she’s a hybrid of god-knows-what. Like it or not, Draco is intrigued as to what lies behind her indifferent exterior.
And now that he’s gotten a glimpse of it, Draco can’t help but want more.
“Draco…” comes her voice, out of nowhere again, “Are you okay? You’ve been staring at that book for a while, and I doubt household spells are going to be of any use to you…”
He snaps back to reality within in an instant, shaking his head to remind himself where he is.
Who he’s with.
“I’m fine.”
Chapter Text
tw: blatant racism, anti-asian sentiments, race-related bullying, burn-related injuries (don't read if you're uncomfortable; it's not very graphic)
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
MAYA'S NEVER BEEN IN THIS DIRECTION OF HOGSMEADE BEFORE
On this particular afternoon, the trio and her are headed to see Sirius. Sirius Black, to be exact. The mass-murderer that managed to escape Azkaban last year, the very same one the Ministry is currently on a witch-hunt for. Hermione has explained the truth to her — that Sirius was actually framed by his best friend, Peter Pettigrew, after the death of James and Lily Potter. Maya's always had doubts about his sentencing, considering that he used to be a friend of her fathers, a tall, dark-haired man present in the old yearbooks that collect dust at home, sitting in a box beneath her mother's bed. He's also present in some of her baby pictures, laughing uproariously as her two-year-old self zooms around the house with a toy broom.
Even still, it doesn't quell her nervousness at meeting him for the first time.
The winding lane leads them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages are fewer here, and their gardens larger; they are walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lies. Then they turn a corner and see a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for them, its front paws on the topmost bar, is a very large, shaggy black dog, which is carrying some newspapers in its mouth and oddly, looking very familiar. . . .
“Hello, Sirius,” says Harry when they reach him.
What?! screams her brain.
Apparently he's an animagus.
The black dog sniffs Harry’s bag eagerly, wags its tail once, then turns and begins to trot away from them across the scrubby
patch of ground that rises to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. The four of them climb over the stile and follow. Sirius leads them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground is covered with boulders and rocks. It's easy for him, with his four paws, but Harry, Ron, Hermione and Maya are soon out of breath. They follow Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climb a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius’s wagging tail, sweating in the sun. Maya starts to wonder whether she should've just curled up with a novel and stayed in her dormitory.
Then, at last, Sirius slips out of sight, and when they reach the place where he vanishes, Maya sees a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeeze into it and find themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, is a Hippogriff. Maya's eyes widen in shock
What has she gotten herself into?
Half gray horse, half giant eagle, it’s fierce orange eye flashes at the sight of them. All four of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, the Hippogriff bends his scaly front knees and allows Hermione to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck.
Maya, however, looks at the black dog, which has just transformed back into a man.
Sirius is wearing ragged gray robes; the material hinting that it used to be part of a prison uniform. He looks drastically different than he did in the old pictures; it has been thirteen years, after all. His black hair is greying and matted, falling to his shoulders in a tangled mess that looks as though it hasn't seen a brush in years. He's still tall, but incredibly thin, to the point where he could be considered emaciated; Sirius's cheekbones jut out of his skin, though his eyes still have the same mischief-ridden sparkle that her father used to mention.
“Chicken!” he says, hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor. Harry pulls open his bag and hands over the bundle of chicken legs and bread.
“Thanks,” says Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor, and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. “I’ve been living off rats mostly. Can’t steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I’d draw attention to myself.”
Harry returns his grin, but only just barely.
“What’re you doing here, Sirius?” he says, warily.
“Fulfilling my duty as godfather,” says Sirius, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way. “Don’t worry about it. Who's your friend?" he question, cocking his head in Maya's direction.
"This is Maya" replies Harry, gently putting a hand on her shoulder, "Maya Rajesh. She transferred from New York at the beginning of term"
Sirius's face goes pale in recognition.
"You're Arjun's daughter, aren't you?" he questions, a slow smile breaking out onto his face, "You look so much like your mother — but you have his nose, and hair color....."
Maya's heart pangs at the fact that he's unaware of her true source of parentage.
"You were only this big the last time I saw you" Sirius proves this by keeping his hand two or three feet above the ground, "It's weird to see you all grown up now"
He's still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harry’s face, reverts back to his original point, tone serious and grave, “I want to be on the spot. Your last letter . . . well, let’s just say things are getting fishier. I’ve been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I’m not the only one who’s getting worried.”
He nods at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picks them up and unfolds them. Harry, however, continues to stare at Sirius.
“What if they catch you? What if you’re seen?”
“You three and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I’m an Animagus,” says Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to
devour the chicken leg, "And now Maya, of course". She flashes him a tight smile.
Ron nudges Maya and passes her the Daily Prophets. There are two: The first bears the headline "Mystery Illness of Bartemius
Crouch", the second, "Ministry Witch Still Missing — Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved."
Maya scans the story about Crouch. Phrases jump out at her: hasn’t been seen in public since November . . . house appears deserted . . . St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment . . . Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness. . . .
“They’re making it sound like he’s dying,” says Maya, slowly.
“But he can’t be that ill if he managed to get up here. . . .” trails off Harry, confused.
“My brother’s Crouch’s personal assistant,” Ron informs Sirius, “He says Crouch is suffering from overwork.”
“Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close,” says Harry, still reading the story. “The night my name came out
of the goblet. . . .”
“Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn’t he?” says Hermione, an edge to her voice. She's stroking Buckbeak, who
is crunching up Sirius’s chicken bones. “I bet he wishes he hadn’t done it now — bet he feels the difference now she’s not there to
look after him.”
“Hermione’s obsessed with house-elfs,” Ron mutters to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look. Sirius, however, looks interested.
“Crouch sacked his house-elf?”
“Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup,” says Harry, and he launches into the story of the Dark Mark’s appearance, and Winky being found with Harry’s wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch’s fury. When Harry finishes, Sirius is on his feet again and starts pacing up and down the cave.
“Let me get this straight,” he says, after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. “You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?”
“Right,” say Harry, Ron, Hermione and Maya together.
“But Crouch didn’t turn up for the match?”
“No,” says Harry. “I think he said he’d been too busy.”
Sirius paces all around the cave in silence. Then he says, “Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you’d left the Top Box?”
“Erm . . .” Harry thinks hard
. “No,” he says, finally. “I didn’t need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars.” He stares at Sirius.
“Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?”
“It’s possible,” says Sirius.
“Winky didn’t steal that wand!” Hermione insists
“The elf wasn’t the only one in that box,” says Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continues to pace. “Who else was sitting behind
you?”
“Loads of people,” says Maya, her mind reverting back to that night. “Some Bulgarian ministers . . . Cornelius Fudge . . . the Malfoys . . .”
The name brings a rush of fear to her mind.
“The Malfoys!” says Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoes all around the cave, and Buckbeak tosses his head nervously. “I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!”
Or maybe his son, taunts the malicious part of her brain. Maya's eyes flash in alarm, but she quickly covers it up. There's no way a fourteen-year-old boy would know how to cast the dark mark — even if his father is an ex-death eater.
Right?
“Anyone else?” says Sirius.
“No one,” says Harry.
“Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman,” Hermione reminds him.
“Oh yeah . . .”
“I don’t know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps,” says Sirius, still pacing. “What’s
he like?”
“He’s okay,” says Harry. “He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament.”
“Does he, now?” says Sirius, frowning more deeply. “I wonder why he’d do that?”
“Says he’s taken a liking to me,” says Harry.
“Hmm,” says Sirius, looking thoughtful.
“We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared,” Hermione tells Sirius. “Remember?” she says to the other three of them
“Yeah, but he didn’t stay in the forest, did he?” says Ron. “The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite.”
“How d’you know?” Hermione shoots back. “How d’you know where he Disapparated to?”
“Come off it,” says Ron incredulously. “Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?”
“It’s more likely he did it than Winky,” says Hermione stubbornly.
“Told you,” says Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, “told you she’s obsessed with house —”
"Oh shut up!" snaps Maya, tired of Ron's constant beration of Hermione's passions..
But Sirius holds up a hand to silence them both
“When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry’s wand, what did Crouch do?”
“Went to look in the bushes,” says Harry, “but there wasn’t anyone else there.”
“Of course,” Sirius mutters, pacing up and down, “of course, he’d want to pin it on anyone but his own elf . . . and then he sacked her?”
“Yes,” says Hermione in a heated voice, “he sacked her, just because she hadn’t stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled —”
“Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!” says Ron. Maya opens her mouth to to retort, but immediately stops as Sirius shoots her a wary look.
Sirius shakes his head and says, “She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”
He runs a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.
“All these absences of Barty Crouch’s . . . he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch
World Cup, but doesn’t bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops
coming to that too. . . . It’s not like Crouch. If he’s ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I’ll eat Buckbeak.”
The Hippogriff gives an indignant squawk of protest.
“D’you know Crouch, then?” says Harry.
Sirius’s face darkens. He suddenly looks as menacing as the "wanted" picture of his face that decorates the daily Prophet.
“Oh I know Crouch all right,” he says, quietly. “He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban — without a
trial.”
“What?” say Ron and Hermione together.
“You’re kidding!” says Maya, appalled.
“No, I’m not,” says Sirius, taking another great bite of chicken. “Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn’t you know?”
The four of them shake their heads.
“He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic,” says Sirius. “He’s a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical — and power-hungry. Oh never a Voldemort supporter,” he says, reading the look on Harry’s face. “No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark Side . . . well, you wouldn’t understand . . . you’re too young. . . .”
“That’s what my dad said at the World Cup,” says Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. “Try us, why don’t you?”
"Yeah, we weren't born yesterday" replies Maya, defiantly setting her chin. She swears she sees a flicker of pride in his eyes, as a grin flashes across Sirius’s thin face.
“All right, I’ll try you. . . .” He walks once up the cave, back again, and then says, “Imagine that Voldemort’s powerful now. You don’t know who his supporters are, you don’t know who’s working for him and who isn’t; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You’re scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing . . . the Ministry of Magic’s in disarray, they don’t know what to do, they’re trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere . . .panic . . . confusion . . . that’s how it used to be.
"Like the dark days of the Circle. . . . " Maya whispers, in shock as Sirius continues.
“Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch’s principles might’ve been good in the beginning — I wouldn’t know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort’s supporters. The Aurors were given new powers — powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn’t the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you — plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him to take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened. . . .”
Sirius smiles grimly.
“Crouch’s own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who’d managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power.”
“Crouch’s son was caught?” gasps Hermione.
“Yep,” says Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. “Nasty little shock for old Barty, I’d imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn’t he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while . . .gotten to know his own son.”
He begins to wolf down large pieces of bread.
“Was his son a Death Eater?” says Harry.
“No idea,” says Sirius, still stuffing down bread. “I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I’ve found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I’d bet my life were Death Eaters — but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf.”
“Did Crouch try and get his son off?” Maya whispers.
Sirius lets out a laugh that's much more like a bark.
“Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Maya! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again — doesn’t that tell you what he’s like? Crouch’s fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn’t much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy . . . then he sent him straight to Azkaban.”
“He gave his own son to the dementors?” asks Harry, quietly.
“That’s right,” says Sirius, and he doesn’t look remotely amused now. “I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through
the bars in my cell door. He can’t have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his
mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though . . .they all went quiet in the end . . . except when they shrieked in
their sleep. . . .”
For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius’s eyes becomes more pronounced than ever, as though shutters have closed behind them.
“So he’s still in Azkaban?” Harry says.
“No,” says Sirius dully. “No, he’s not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in.”
“He died?” questions Maya, shocked.
“He wasn’t the only one,” says Sirius bitterly. “Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got excited. That boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently, shortly afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son’s body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it.”
Sirius throws aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth and instead picks up the flask of pumpkin juice and drains it.
“So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made,” he continues, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic . . . next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I’ve heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”
There's a long silence. Maya thinks of the way Crouch’s eyes had bulged as he’d looked down at his disobedient house-elf back in the wood at the Quidditch World Cup. This, then, must be why Crouch overreacted to Winky being found beneath the Dark Mark. It had brought back memories of his son, and the old scandal, and his fall from grace at the Ministry.
“Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards,” Harry tells Sirius.
“Yeah, I’ve heard it’s become a bit of a mania with him,” says Sirius, nodding. “If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater.”
“And he sneaked up here to search Snape’s office!” says Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.
“Yes, and that doesn’t make sense at all,” says Sirius.
“Yeah, it does!” says Ron excitedly, but Sirius shakes his head.
“Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn’t he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him.”
“So you think Snape could be up to something, then?” asks Harry, but Hermione breaks in.
“Look, I don’t care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape —”
“Oh give it a rest, Hermione,” says Ron impatiently. “I know Dumbledore’s brilliant and everything, but that doesn’t mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn’t fool him —”
“Why did Snape save Harry’s life in the first year, then? Why didn’t he just let him die?”
“I dunno — maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out —”
“What d’you think, Sirius?” Harry says loudly, and Ron and Hermione stop bickering to listen.
“I think they’ve both got a point,” says Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione. “Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I’ve wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape’s always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,” Sirius adds, and Harry and Ron grin at each other. “Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters.”
Sirius holds up his fingers and begins ticking off names.
“Rosier and Wilkes — they were both killed by Aurors the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges — they’re a married couple — they’re in Azkaban. Avery — from what I’ve heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he’d been acting under the Imperius Curse — he’s still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater — not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape’s certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble.”
“Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet,” says Ron.
“Yeah, you should’ve seen Snape’s face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!” says Harry quickly. “Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he says Snape’s been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn’t see what it was.”
“He showed Snape something on his arm?” says Sirius, looking frankly bewildered. He runs his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugs again. “Well, I’ve no idea what that’s about . . . but if Karkaroff’s genuinely worried, and he’s going to Snape for answers . . .”
Sirius stares at the cave wall, then makes a grimace of frustration.
“There’s still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn’t, but I just can’t see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he’d ever worked for Voldemort.”
“Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape’s office then?” says Ron stubbornly.
“Well,” says Sirius slowly, “I wouldn’t put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher’s office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I’m not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he’s seen, it’s not surprising. I’ll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though . . . he’s a different matter . . . is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape’s office? And if he’s not . . . what’s he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn’t turn up in the Top Box? What’s he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?”
Sirius lapses into silence, still staring at the cave wall. Buckbeak's ferreting around on the rocky floor, looking for bones he might have overlooked. Finally, Sirius looks up at Ron.
“You say your brother’s Crouch’s personal assistant? Any chance you could ask him if he’s seen Crouch lately?”
“I can try,” says Ron doubtfully. “Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch.”
“And you might try and find out whether they’ve got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you’re at it,” says Sirius, gesturing to the
second copy of the Daily Prophet.
“Bagman told me they hadn’t,” says Harry.
“Yes, he’s quoted in the article in there,” says Sirius, nodding at the paper. “Blustering on about how bad Bertha’s memory is. Well, maybe she’s changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn’t forgetful at all — quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew when to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic . . . maybe that’s why Bagman didn’t bother to look for her for so long. . . .”
Sirius heaves an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes.
“What’s the time?”
Harry checks his watch.
“It’s half past three,” says Hermione.
“You’d better get back to school,” Sirius says, getting to his feet.
“Now listen . . .” He looks particularly hard at Harry. “I don’t want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you’re not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you.”
“No one’s tried to attack me so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows,” Harry says, but Sirius scowls at him.
“I don’t care . . . I’ll breathe freely again when this tournament’s over, and that’s not until June. And don’t forget, if you’re talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?”
You can't judge a book by it's cover, Maya thinks, as she falls asleep that night, Ironically, an ex-convinct is the only responsible adult in my life as of late.
By breakfast the next day Ron’s and Hermione’s bad moods have burnt out. When the post owls arrive, Hermione looks up eagerly; she
seems to be expecting something.
“Percy won’t’ve had time to answer yet,” says Ron. “We only sent Hedwig yesterday.”
“No, it’s not that,” says Hermione. “I’ve taken out a subscription to the Daily Prophet. I’m getting sick of finding everything out from the Slytherins.”
“Good thinking!” said Harry, also looking up at the owls. “Hey, Hermione, I think you’re in luck —”
A gray owl is soaring down toward Hermione.
“It hasn’t got a newspaper, though,” she says, looking disappointed. “It’s —”
But to Maya's bewilderment, the gray owl lands in front of Hermione's plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.
“How many subscriptions did you take out?” says Maya, seizing Hermione’s goblet before it's knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom are jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.
“What on earth — ?” Hermione says, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. “Oh really!” she sputters, going rather red.
“What’s up?” says Ron.
“It’s — oh how ridiculous —”
She thrusts the letter at Harry, Maya leaning over to read it, and seeing that it's not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seem to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.
"You are a WickEd giRL. HarRy PotTER desErves BeTteR. GO back wherE you cAMe from mUGgle."
"What the hell?" Maya whispers, horrified and angry at the same time. She expected some backlash, but hate mail?
“They’re all like it!” says Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another. “ ‘Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you. . . .’ ‘You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn. . . .’ Ouch!”
She opens the last envelope, and yellowish-green liquid smelling strongly of petrol gushes over her hands, which begins to erupt in large yellow boils. Maya gasps in horror, hands flying to cover her mouth.
“Undiluted bubotuber pus!” says Ron, picking up the envelope gingerly and sniffing it.
“Ow!” said Hermione, tears starting in her eyes as she tries to rub the pus off her hands with a napkin, but her fingers are now
so thickly covered in painful sores that it looks as though she's wearing a pair of thick, knobbly gloves.
“You’d better get up to the hospital wing,” says Harry as the owls around Hermione take flight. “We’ll tell Professor Sprout where you’ve gone. . . .”
"No matter," replies Maya, gently taking Hermione's hands in hers to inspect the damage, "I can try and heal them; Magnus taught me how"
But there's no time to dwell on Hermione's injuries; a tawny owl Maya doesn't recognize drops a package in front of her plate. Harry and Ron flash her warning looks, but she sighs.
"Can't possibly be worse than that" replies Maya, gesturing to Hermione's hands, "Besides, it's probably something from back home"
"Maya, don't —"
She ignores them, quickly unwrapping the paper-covered package to reveal a bright purple bottle, completely unmarked. Maya frowns. Could this possibly be that new shampoo Isabelle was talking about — Kerasilk or something, makes your hair grow longer? Maybe the young Shadowhunter's decided to send her a sample —
Maya shrieks as the bottle explodes, red-hot liquid flying everywhere. She tries to cover herself, but it's too late; the crimson liquid stains her white blouse, burning holes in the fabric as it steams and hisses on her neck. A pained shriek escapes her lips as the liquid burns on her skin, Maya hissing in pain as she furiously tries to wipe it off with her hands, creating blisters on her fingers.
"Ow!!" she screams, as Harry grabs her hands to stop Maya from hurting herself even more, "By the Angel, it HURTS-"
"Pepper-up potion" replies Hermione, masking her pain through gritted teeth, "A nasty little trick if you ask me. It burns your skin if you accidentally spill it."
"And it looks like Romilda Vane's the culprit" says Ron, warily cocking his head to the seat of the curly-haired Gryffindor. She sniggers to her friends, shooting a triumphant look in Maya's direction. The latter's hands curl into fists, nails piercing the soft flesh of her palms. Maya gives Romilda a murderous glare, eyes slowly filling with tears because of the sheer physical pain she's in.
"There's a note too. . . ." whispers Hermione, looking at Maya with pity despite her own injuries. Maya's eyes are filled with liquid fury as she snatches the piece of paper from the table, somehow untouched by the potion. She unfolds it.
"Go back to your country, you gold-digging bitch"
And that's the last straw for her.
“You two better get up to the hospital wing,” says Harry, concerned, as the owls around them take flight. “We’ll tell Professor Sprout where you’ve gone. . . .”
"Don't bother" snarls Maya, snatching her satchel from the bench, "I'm not giving her the satisfaction of hurting me"
"You're not going to walk around all day with that, are you?!" questions Ron, horrified as Hermione also stands up, Maya helping her with her textbooks in order to reduce the pain in her fingers.
"We'll see" she replies, defiantly, before striding out of the Great Hall, avoiding the eyes of Romilda and her gang of girls.
"She really made a mess of you, didn't she?"
Maya hisses as Diana lightly presses her fingers to the edge of the burn on Maya's shoulder, trying to do something to help her. It's three hours later, and after numerous cooling charms and reapplications of salve, the injury still burns as though she's trapped in the sweltering heat of Edom. Maya's sat out of classes up until lunch, barely able to move an inch without putting herself in excruciating pain. Now, however, she's starving, having barely touched her breakfast, which had the potion spilled all over it.
"What did I even do to her?" questions Maya, softly, jerking backwards as Diana tries to cast a healing charm, "I don't even like Harry that way — ow!"
"She's just jealous that you get to hang out with him and she doesn't" replies Diana, smoothly, grumbling out her next words, "What a cow. And stop moving, it's only going to make the pain worse!"
"I'm trying!" hisses Maya, impatiently, "It feels like someone's set my skin on fire."
"I can't do this," replies Diana, finally drawing back, wand clutched in her hand, "It's too serious; I think you should go to the Hospital wing"
"Are you crazy?" questions Maya, raising her eyebrows, "I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of having hurt me!"
"You literally can't move because of the amount of pain you're in"
"I'll deal with it myself later" replies Maya, wrapping the strap of her bag on her wrist instead of on her shoulder, "Right now, I'm starving."
"Maya, this isn't healthy," states Diana, concerned, "You shouldn't hurt yourself just to prove a point"
"Di" chastisizes Maya, brushing a strand of blond hair out of the Hufflepuff's face, "I'll be fine. Magnus has a spell that he's used on similar injuries. I'll call and ask him about it after classes, okay?"
Diana sounds unconvinced, but sighs and gives her a terse nod. Maya grabs her hand and they walk to the Great Hall for lunch.
The one-hour-break passes by somewhat smoothly — Hermione is still stuck in the hospital wing, Harry and Ron are disgruntled and moody from Herbology, Diana's nervous about her transfiguration test, which Maya helped her study for last night. They eat lunch in a relatively comfortable silence, Maya adjusting her robes around herself to hide the fact that she's wearing a grey crew-neck t-shirt instead of her uniform blouse and sweater, since the latter irritates the sensitive, inflamed skin even more.
“Aaah, don’ worry,” says Hagrid gently, looking down at her with concern during Care Of Magical Creatures. “I got some o’ those letters an’ all, after Rita Skeeter wrote abou’ me mum. 'Yeh’re a monster an’ yeh should be put down.’ ‘Yer mother killed innocent people an’ if you had any decency you’d jump in a lake.’ ”
Maya suddenly feels foolish for thinking that no one could have it worse than her.
After two more classes (and countless cooling charms) her school day ends and she decides to head to the library for some quiet reading time. Sure, Maya would normally go back to her dormitory if she wanted to curl up with a novel, but something within her decides a change of scenery would help her sour mood. Also, it's a bit of a risk going back there by herself. If Romilda had the courage to hurt her in front of all those people, who knows what she would do if she found Maya in her dorm, alone?
The thought makes a terrified shiver go down her spine.
Anyway, it's about an hour or so after she's made this decision when Maya's browsing one of the shelves in the library filled with wizarding romance novels. Maya has an affinity for these types of texts — not that she's ever going to admit it to anyone. They're refreshing to her, stories that have romantic pursuits as the main elements, a kind of detox from the draining aspects of everyday life. Maya knows it's a bit cliched, but they just make her happy, in some strange way.
Although she's never fallen in love herself (and doesn't plan to anytime soon) the process of watching the love interests meet, grow closer, facing obstacles together weirdly gives her a strange type of satisfaction. The classic ones are her favorite. Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte — though that's more of a horror novel than a romance one — Wuthering Heights, and most recently, Persuasion, by Jane Austen. Though she's only five or so chapters in, Maya's already hooked by the character of Anne Elliot, a twenty-nine year old heiress who's plagued by the lost love of Captain Wentworth, a fearless naval officer and her ex-fiancee. Though Wentworth hasn't even appeared yet, the side characters are interesting enough to keep her engaged, particularly that of Mary Musgrove, whose attention-seeking behaviour she finds amusing and reminiscent of Magnus's when he's sulking.
Although now, it reminds her more of a certain blond Slytherin boy.
"You read Jane Austen?"
Maya jumps at the familiar voice, swiveling around to find none other than the person who'd just crossed her mind. Draco Malfoy raises his eyebrows, as the pain in her shoulder worsens from such a sudden movement. In hand is a floral-patterned copy of Persuasion, the very same one she accidentally left in the library two days ago.
"Give me that!" Maya practically snaps , hand reaching for the book, an embarrassed flush painting her cheekbones. He holds it higher, smirking, so that it's out of her reach. Maya is irritated by the flare of amusement in his eyes, as she jumps, arms flying upwards to catch the book. Draco doesn't let up, just holding it higher out of her reach.
"Didn't peg you as the romantic type, Maya" he taunts, with that insufferable smirk on his face yet again. Maya grits her teeth, resisting the urge to grab her wand and hex him senseless.
Just when she thought her day might be getting better, ferret boy had to show up.
"Give me the damn book, Malfoy" she snarls, not even bothering to conceal her rage.
"Someone's in a bad mood today, " he remarks, still dangling the book tauntingly out of her reach. Maya's eyes narrow menacingly, and she glares up at him with as much malice as she possibly can — which does absolutely nothing to coax him into giving it back.
"You'd be too if you were getting hate mail"
Something in his expression changes at her words. Maya's cheeks flush with embarrassment, wondering how easily the words left her lips in front of him. She usually prefers to keep her personal struggles out of the spotlight, grin and bear it instead of burdening other people. But for some reason, her usual filter seems to disappear in front of him.
"You're what?"
"Nothing" Maya replies, a little too quickly, turning back to the shelf to avoid making eye contact with him, "I didn't say anything".
She can feel his eyes narrow behind her.
"You're a horrible liar, Maya, you know that?" he states, leaning against the opposite shelf. She rolls her eyes.
"You don't even know me, Draco"
"But I can tell that you're trying to cover something up"
Maya sighs, turning around to face him.
"Why do you care?" she retorts, defensively crossing her arms over her chest.
"I don't" he replies, something flashing in his eyes, as he surveys her, "I'm just curious as to why you're so.....wound up"
Maya exhales, running a hand through her hair — for some reason, she feels completely exhausted, both emotionally and physically. Granted, it's been a pretty eventful two days, but somehow, her resolve seems weaker today. And the way Draco is being so persistent, like an ice pick chipping away at the surface of a lake, she knows he's going to wear her down completely. Besides, what's the harm in telling him? It's not like he's going to do anything about it — as if he'd ever be caught dead with a Gryffindor.
Which still doesn't explain why his insults toward her aren't as harsh as they used to be.
"After Skeeter's article," she starts, unsure of how to word this, "Some idiots thought it would be a brilliant idea to start sending me hate mail. At first, they were just notes, super petty, nasty stuff that some jealous fangirls tried to hurt us with. But some of them took it too far. Hermione got sent bubotuber pus at breakfast today — it exploded all over her hands, she was in the hospital wing all morning. I thought it would end there. Romilda Vane decided that it would be splendid to send me Pepper-Up Potion disguised as shampoo. I thought it was from a friend, so I opened it — and it exploded. All over me."
"Oh yeah" replies Draco, an almost-wistful expression on his face, "I remember seeing you running out of the Great Hall"
"You were looking at me?" she questions, raising an eyebrow.
Draco rolls his eyes.
"The entirety of Slytherin was looking at you" he replies, switching to a new tone at her now-murderous expression, "Though that probably doesn't help with your — condition, if I may call it that"
She snorts, turning back to the shelf and continuing to browse the selection of Wizarding romance novels.
"Are you hurt or anything? Your shoulder looks......questionable"
Maya looks over her shoulder, surprised.
"You noticed?"
He scoffs.
"You aren't exactly doing a good job at hiding it. Aren't you going to go to the hospital and let Pomfrey do something about it?"
She looks at him like he's suggested she jump into the icy waters of the black lake.
"Romilda will know if I go there, and I don't want to give her the satisfaction of having hurt me"
Draco raises his eyebrows in shock.
"You look like a dragon just mauled you"
She sighs in frustration.
"I'll deal with it later"
Maya hears Draco groan, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shuts his eyes.
"If you're not going to get it healed, what about Vane? Are you just going to let her get away with it?"
Maya is shocked, turning and looking at Draco with wide eyes.
"What, and go down to her level?" she retorts, "No way in hell"
He scoffs, looking up at the ceiling as if trying to draw strength from it.
"Merlin, I knew you were a Gryffindor," replies Draco, haughtily, "But I never thought you'd be this righteous"
"I'm not righteous" states Maya, indignantly, flushing at the 'oh really?' look he gives her, "What? I'm not! I just — I just don't think fighting fire with fire is going to do much. If anything, it just proves that I'm no better than her."
"She could've seriously hurt you," retorts Draco, annoyed, "Blinded you — if the potion had gotten in your eyes"
"You won't get it" states Maya, annoyance filling her tone, "You're used to retaliating — I'd rather move on and keep the peace,"
"It's not about 'keeping the peace' " replies Draco, through gritted teeth, "It's about making them pay for the way they hurt you. You think it's going to stop at this? She could trash your dorm, throw your textbooks into the lake —"
"I doubt she'd actually go that far" interrupts Maya, as Draco rolls his eyes. He gives her a hard look, cutting into her bones with how pissed-off it is.
"I don't understand why you're being so stubborn," he says, quietly, voice betraying his frustration at her refusal to attain revenge.
"I just don't want to make the situation worse than it already is," replies Maya, tone a little softer, crossing her arms over her chest, "It's different for you, Malfoy. You'll be able to walk away with no damage caused. But me? If I fight back, she'll hit harder. It'll become a vicious cycle. There's no use in trying to get even when you know you're going to get hurt in the end"
They look at each other for a long time — Draco still has the same hard expression in his eyes, one that now mirrors Maya's. He'll never know, Maya thinks to herself, what being hurt feels like. Draco Malfoy was born with privilege oozing off of him. He's never had to fight for anything in his life. He can just walk through the same rooms Maya has to claw her way into. 'Oppression' is just a word to him, not something he'll ever have to experience.
No matter how hard they try, Maya knows they're never going to be able to truly understand where the other comes from.
"If you're not going to do anything about Vane's little 'surprise', at least let me heal you" he states, a little while later, to her pure astonishment.
"And why would I ever do that?" she replies, warily, eyeing his wand.
"As much as I.......dislike..... you" he states, "I'm not going to let you walk around like that. I've spilled Pepper-Up Potion on myself before — I know what to do"
Maya still looks at him suspiciously. How can she even trust him? Wasn't he the one who decided to blackmail her in the first place? Although now, she's starting to think that this arrangement means more than that to him. In fact, Maya doubts 'arrangement' is even the right word for it anymore.
"Oh for fuck's sake, stop with the fuss, Rajesh" he snaps, exasperation filling his tone, "I'm not going to hex you"
Maya sighs, debating the options in her head. Walk away with her dignity, and endure another day of classes & pain? Or risk inviting a curse and let Draco Malfoy, of all people, heal her? What to do, what to do. . .
Maya sighs, walking so she's within reaching distance of him. Something triumphant flickers in Draco's eyes at her submission — a hint of a smirk appears on his face from the way he's bent her will — and she glares up at him, defiantly, letting her hands nervously rest at her sides.
"Try anything funny, and I'll make sure your ancestors roll in their graves" she spits, malevolently. Draco just rolls his eyes, letting his fingers delicately skim the edge of the burn. Maya hisses, but one look from him renders her silent. He whips out his wand from the pocket of his trousers.
"Et calor trahere" he breathes out.
Maya shudders as blue light escapes the tip of his wand, a strangely cool tingling feeling touching her skin. It doesn't feel unpleasant, more soothing, actually. It wraps all around the edges of the burn, up to where the neckline of her shirt starts. He taps it once against her skin, and the burn vanishes, skin faintly pink where it was burning moments ago. There's still a bit more, right between her breasts, but Draco's cheeks flush as he meets her eyes.
"I-I think you can do the rest yourself," he stammers, eyes still not wavering from hers.
Maya somehow cracks a smile at his awkwardness, it's different, kind of cute in fact, seeing him like this, flustered.
"Thanks. . . . Draco" she manages, as his eyes widen.
What is this sorcery?! screams the rational part of her brain, How can you go from hating him to thanking him in just a few moments?
"Don't mention it, " he replies, voice strangely tight as he looks down at her. Something's different between them, a lingering sense of faint trust in the air.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my two favorite lovebirds" drawls a familiar voice from around the corner. Diana stands at the end of the aisle, a telltale smirk on her face. Draco jumps back, removing his hand from her shoulder — right on her bra strap, where it was moments before.
"Diana, it's not what it looks like — " Maya tries, face scarlet with embarrassment. Her smirk only grows wider.
"So you weren't just groping my best friend?" questions Diana, shamelessly, turning to her brother. Draco's face turns scarlet, resembling that of a tomato, and he backs against the opposite shelf, putting a considerable amount of distance between them.
"No! Of course not!"
Diana snorts, the sound indicating that she will never let Maya hear the end of this.
"A likely story"
Chapter Text
tw: racism, use of racial slurs, mild violence (dueling scene), mentions of past discrimination.
𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
"YOU'RE WASTING A PERFECTLY GOOD FRIDAY NIGHT, MAYA! WHERE'S YOUR SENSE OF ADVENTURE?"
Maya sighs, rolling her eyes at Isabelle's words through the phone. She's staying in tonight; Diana and Hermione have gone to the pitch to watch the Gryffindor team's Quidditch practice, and as much as she's interested in hanging out with the golden trio, Maya feels like she needs a break from people in general. The drama that's currently going on — hate mail and whatnot — is starting to chip away at her patience. Not that she's counting, but over the past few days, owls have delivered her more letters than she's ever recieved in her entire life. She's stopped reading them at this point, just chucking them into the bin, unopened, waiting to be burned at a later date.
Maya tries to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest at the fact that she hasn't said a single word about this to her mother.
"I don't know" she replies, searching on her shelf for the sparkly blue bottle of nail polish that Isabelle gave her for Christmas, "I just need my alone time, I guess"
"Does your alone time involve painting your nails, a bag of mint milanos, and rewatching 'Jennifer's Body' for the thirteenth time?"
Maya guiltily looks down at herself, wearing a dusty old pair of pastel pink pajama pants covered in white hearts, with a faded camisole to match. She then looks at her bed, where the aforementioned items are cocooned amass her duvet and fluffy pillows.
"First of all, they're raspberry chocolate milanos-"
"By the Angel, " groans Isabelle, from the other end of the phone, "Sweetheart, have you ever considered stepping out of your shell? Going out, getting to know other people except your laptop screen?"
"Hey!" interjects Maya, finally locating the nail polish on her dresser, "I have friends! You've literally met one of them!"
"Where is she, then, currently?"
"She-" sputters Maya, "She's at the quidditch pitch. Watching Harry and the boys practicing."
"Oh yeah..." muses Isabelle, "Remember when we tried to play?"
"Alec fell off of his broom six times" snorts Maya, nostalgia floating in the air at her childhood memories, "Jace broke his within an hour — explains his horrible coordination when driving. I screamed as soon as the broom started to lift. Now that I think about it, you were actually the only one who managed to fly correctly —"
"And still can" interrupts Isabelle, a hint of pride in her voice; Maya can feel her satisfied smirk from the other end of the phone, "But that's not the point. What're you doing alone? It's not like you. . . ."
"I —" tries Maya, her voice becoming exasperated, "I just — I don't know. People are exhausting."
"If you really thought that, you wouldn't be talking to me right now,"
Maya manages a smile from the other end of the phone, sitting cross-legged on her bed as she opens the bag of milano cookies.
"You're not most people, Iz" she says, quietly, "I can tolerate you"
"Yeah, you love me, I know" replies the other girl, joking tone now turning serious, "But seriously, Maya, what's going on? You don't really sound like yourself. . . "
Maya sighs, rubbing her temples to quell the aching in them, popping a raspberry cookie into her mouth.
"Remember the article that Skeeter woman wrote about me and Mom?" she replies, tone somewhat softer. Maya can sense Izzy's sharp intake of breath.
"The one where she slandered you both for no reason other than the fact that you told her to leave you alone?" replies the young Shadowhunter, a malicious edge in her voice, "Have people been bothering you about it?"
"Kind of" Maya stutters, a little taken aback at Isabelle's anger, "Ever since it came out. . . . .people started sending Hermione and me. . . . things"
"Like what?" questions Isabelle, brows probably furrowed together in confusion. Maya's heart drops into her stomach.
"At first they were just notes" continues Maya, "Things like "you're a bitch" and "Harry could do so much better than you". Super trivial. But then it slowly got worse. Someone sent Hermione undiluted bubotuber pus at breakfast two days ago — it spilled all over her hands and her skin erupted in boils."
"By the Angel!" whispers Isabelle, shocked, "Is she okay now?"
"Somewhat" replies Maya, an edge to her voice, "It's still a bit painful to use her hands — she still needs to be careful when holding a quill, but otherwise, she's almost completely back to normal. . . . ."
Maya stops there, but it becomes clear that her friend isn't going to let up.
"And?" presses Izzy, wanting more information.
"There's no 'and'"
"There's always an 'and' with you, sweetheart" replies Isabelle, taking absolutely none of her bullshit. Maya sighs.
This is getting into darker territory than she originally thought it would.
"If I tell you" says Maya, slowly, "You can't freak out. And you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not Alec, not Jace, not even Mom"
"Why can't I tell your mother?" questions Isabelle, suspiciously, "Maya, what's going on?"
"Yes or no, Izzy?" Maya questions, impatiently. She hears Isabelle sigh from the other end of the phone.
"Fine" replies the Shadowhunter, disgruntled, "I'll keep my cool, and keep your secret to myself. What's the deal?"
Maya sucks in a deep breath, taking a few moments to prepare herself for the flood of emotions that is to come.
"Maya, you there?" questions Izzy, after what feels like half and hour, but in reality, it's only been ten minutes.
Here goes nothing.
"RomildaVanesentmeanexplodingpepperuppotion" Maya stammers out, eyes screwed shut in fear.
There's a thick silence in the air for a minute.
"What did you just say?" replies Isabelle, very confused.
Maya sighs.
"Romilda - Vane - sent - me - an - exploding - pepper - up - potion" she replies, carefully, enunciating her words, "It happened right after the bubotuber pus incident. Someone sent me a bottle wrapped in brown paper — I thought it was from you, that shampoo you were talking about before, Kerasilk or something? Anyway, I opened it" Maya rolls her eyes at Isabelle's frustrated groan, "I know — I know, okay? — it was really stupid, opening it when I didn't know what it was, but nevertheless, I did it, and as soon as I touched the bottle, the entire thing exploded. Everywhere, all over my shirt, my hands, even on my waffles"
"Oh my god. . . ." Isabelle makes a disgusted noise from the other end of the line, "Did you get hurt or anything?"
"It burned my skin" explains Maya, a shocked sound coming from the other end, "Not severely — but it was bad enough that I could barely get out of bed the entire morning. There's scarring on my collarbones now — little white marks going until just beneath my breasts. But that's not even the worst part. There was a note, a lovely little letter our beautiful Miss Vane decided to send me; Go back to your country, you gold-digging bitch. Written in big, fat serial-killer letters"
There's an uncomfortable silence in the room for a few minutes; It seems as though for the first time in her life, Isabelle Lightwood has been rendered speechless. Maya anxiously fiddles with stray curls hanging out of her bun, twirling the deep black strands around her fingers as a form of stress relief.
After another ten minutes or so, Maya starts to get worried.
"Iz? You there?" she questions, blowing into the speaker to remove any dust, hearing Isabelle wince from the sound, "Say something. . . . .you're scaring me."
"Have your teachers done. . . . . anything?" asks Isabelle, voice tight, "They had to have seen it. . .it happened right at the breakfast table"
"The potion exploded when their backs were turned," explains Maya, "When they looked down, all they could see was the liquid splattered everywhere. It looked as though I'd poured it on myself."
"B-but that's absurd!" sputters the Shadowhunter, clearly angry, "She could've permanently injured you. It happened in front of everyone, someone had to have put the dots together!"
"Iz-" tries Maya, but her friend doesn't relent.
"This — this is fucking insane" snarls Isabelle, "She tried to hurt you, because of purely racist, jealous reasons. You have scars because of her, and that cheating, lying bitch just gets to walk free? And you're asking me to not tell anyone about this?"
"Izzy-"
"How is this fair, Maya?" questions Isabelle, voice pained, "She'll use your silence as an excuse to keep doing this shit — "
"Retaliating won't make me any better than her," replies Maya, placidly, admiring her painted nails, "Besides, I only have three months until the end of school. It'll blow over —"
"How long are you going to be able to keep this up?" retorts Isabelle; Maya can practically feel her defensively putting her hands on her hips, "You don't have to retaliate — though I think she deserves it — but at least do something. Why don't you try bringing it up to your mother? I'm sure she'd do something — she wouldn't let something like this slide"
"But that makes me a — "
"No, it does not!, " replies Isabelle, quite sternly, "This isn't bullying anymore — you're being verbally and physically harrassed because of something you can't control. You can't let this go, Maya. If you do, it'll just get worse"
Maya sighs, hearing the soft laughter and footsteps of her roommates approach the door. Her voice drops.
"I'll think about it"
Hate mail continues to arrive for Hermione and Maya over the following months, and although Maya follows Hagrid's advice and stops opening the letters, several of Hermione's ill-wishers send Howlers, which explode at the Gryffindor table and shriek insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Maya's slandering however, is done more privately; usually when she's alone or with her roommates. The letters get exponentially worse with each week that passes; Maya can't even read the contents without feeling sick. She usually just burns them after they arrive, but a few howlers have exploded too soon, yelling horrible, racist insults that still ring in her ears days after. Even the people who don’t read Witch Weekly know all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione-Maya square now. Maya's getting sick of telling people that Harry isn't her boyfriend.
“It’ll die down, though,” Harry tells Maya, sometime in April, “if we just ignore it. . . . People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last
time —”
Maya resists the urge to tell him that it's been over two months.
“I want to know how she’s listening into private conversations when she’s supposed to be banned from the grounds!” says Hermione angrily.
Hermione hangs back in their next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Moody something. The rest of the class
is very eager to leave; Moody has given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them are nursing small injuries.
Harry has such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he needs to hold his hands clamped over them as they walk away from the class. Maya wrings her hands together, trying to get rid of the tingling as well as stop them from trembling.
“Well, Rita’s definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!”
Hermione pants five minutes later, catching up with Harry, Ron and Maya in the entrance hall. “Moody says he didn’t see her anywhere near the judges’ table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!”
“Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?” says Ron.
“No!” says Hermione stubbornly. “I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid’s mum!”
"And how she managed to get a word with Pansy!" adds Maya, equally annoyed.
“Maybe she had you bugged,” says Harry.
“Bugged?” says Ron blankly. “What . . . put fleas on her or something?”
Maya starts to explain to Ron the purpose of hidden microphones and recording equipment, but stops as soon as Hermione interrupts her.
“Aren’t you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History?”
“What’s the point?” says Ron. “You know it by heart, we can just ask you.”
“All those substitutes for magic Muggles use — electricity, computers, cell phones, and all those things — they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there’s too much magic in the air. No, Rita’s using magic to eavesdrop, she must be. . . . If I could just find out what it is . . . ooh, if it’s illegal, I’ll have her . . .”
“Haven’t we got enough to worry about?” Ron asks her. “Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?”
“I’m not asking you to help!” Hermione snaps. “I’ll do it on my own!”
She marches back up the marble staircase without a backward glance. Maya's quite sure she's going to the library.
“What’s the betting she comes back with a box of I Hate Rita Skeeter badges?” says Ron.
Maya glares at him.
"You don't get it," she states, quite plainly, "So stop condemning Hermione for taking measures to protect herself"
Hermione, however, does not ask Harry and Ron to help her pursue vengeance against Rita Skeeter, because their workload mounts ever higher in the days before the Easter holidays. Maya marvels at the fact that Hermione can research magical methods of eavesdropping as
well as everything else they have to do. She's working flat-out just to get through all their homework, though Harry makes a point of
sending regular food packages up to the cave in the mountain for Sirius.
Hedwig doesn’t return until the end of the Easter holidays. Percy’s letter is enclosed in a package of Easter eggs that Mrs. Weasley
had sent. Both Harry’s and Ron’s are the size of dragon eggs and full of homemade toffee. Hermione's & Maya's, however, are smaller than chicken eggs. Hermione's face falls when she sees them.
“Your mum doesn’t read Witch Weekly, by any chance, does she, Ron?” asks Maya, quietly.
“Yeah,” says Ron, whose mouth was full of toffee. “Gets it for the recipes.”
Hermione looks sadly at her tiny egg. Normally, Maya would have to resist the urge to laugh, but her sour mood makes her bite off half of her egg in one go, some of it spilling on her fingers.
“Don’t you want to see what Percy’s written?” Harry asks Hermione, hastily.
Percy’s letter is short and irritated.
"As I am constantly telling the Daily Prophet, Mr. Crouch is taking a well-deserved break. He is sending in regular owls with instructions. No, I haven’t actually seen him, but I think I can be trusted to know my own superior’s handwriting. I have quite enough to do at the moment without trying to quash these ridiculous rumors. Please don’t bother me again unless it’s something important. Happy Easter."
The next month passes by soundly, or that's just what Maya tries to tell herself. Keeping up with her work becomes harder and harder as the end of the school year approaches. The letters don't die down; they still pour in at a steady pace, making her room smell like smoke from the amount of times she's burnt them during the day. Diana just gives her a knowing look whenever she tries to feign nonchalance. Maya's common sense tells her to take this issue to McGonagall, but her pride doesn't give her any leeway.
Subramanian women aren't quitters Nandini's voice rings in her head on a balmy evening in the last week of May, as her, Ron and Hermione scribble out an essay for Snape, We never give up, darling. When faced with adversity, we fight through it, tooth and nail. And above all, we never let anyone undermine us. Remember that.
"I'm still eight inches short" mutters Ron, grimacing at the size of his parchment; The minimum Snape has assigned them is four feet, Maya still has six inches to go.
"Try writing larger" she quips, biting the end of her quill in thought, "Or just cite your sources, that always takes up a lot of space"
"I can't believe we have to submit this by tomorrow" groans the ginger, burying his face in his hands. Hermione scowls, grip tightening on her quill.
"Maybe if you'd started on it Wednesday as I told you to, you wouldn't be complaining right now"
"Easy for you to say," mutters Ron, under his breath. Hermione flushes and glares at him.
"What's that supposed to mean? —"
"Guys!" interrupts Maya, sick of their constant bickering, "Focus. We're not going to accomplish anything by snapping at each other"
There's dead silence for the next half hour or so, in which Maya finally manages to finish the last six inches of her essay, letting the ink dry for a few moments before rolling it up and placing it in her satchel. She lets out a yawn of relief, stretching and sinking back into the couch cushions. Maya's eyes start to flutter, the pleasant warmth of the room numbing her senses and rendering her even sleepier than she was before.
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to drift off right here. . . . . . in the safe, toasty warmth of the Gryffindor common room. . . . far away from the hatred and disdain that plague her in the halls. . . .
"Harry forgot his wand" says Hermione, out of nowhere, nudging her chin towards the side table, startling Maya awake. She groans, rubbing her tired eyes with the back of her palm.
"What?" she manages to get out, yawning as she sits up, stretching her arms, "Didn't he take it with him for the whole champion's meeting thing?"
"Must've slipped his mind" mutters Ron, eyes glazed over, very focused on a particularly burnt patch of the wallpaper. Hermione lightly smacks the back of his head, and he jerks, blinking for a few moments before getting back to work on his essay.
"I better go give it to him," she mumbles, after a while, using a spare rubber band on her wrist to tie her messy hair back, "He's going to be useless if they ask him to demonstrate what magic he knows"
Maya gets up, quickly, reflexes a little slower than they were when she left the Institute. Her wand is stowed in the front pocket of her jeans, and she grabs Harry's wand off of the side table, climbing through the portrait hole a little clumsily due to her sleepiness. The halls are surprisingly empty as she jogs down to where the champions are gathered, spotting Harry and Krum together next to the forest. Maya tries to wave to him, to signal that she's there, but he's too far away to notice her.
Something in her tells Maya it's a bad idea to jog down towards them, but she does it anyway, rationality taking over as she crosses the courtyard. Her legs aren't very long, but she's fast, and makes it past the other champions, sleepiness replaced with a bit of adrenaline at the change in her surroundings, fresh, cool air filling her lungs. Her mood is slightly improved when she reaches them, but Maya slows down at the heated discussion they seem to be having.
"Harry?" she says, quietly, not wanting to disrupt their argument, throwing the wand to Harry "It's me, Maya. You forgot your wand in the common room — "
Harry catches his wand as he turns around, Krum frowning at the sight of her. But the initial awkwardness dissipates, as a strange rustling noise begins to sound from the bushes. It sounds as if an animal is heading towards them, the sound of a twig breaking making Maya jump, the hairs on the back of her neck stand end. She automatically reaches for her wand, fingers grasping around the enchanted wood.
Suddenly a man staggers out from behind a tall oak. For a moment, Maya doesn’t recognize him . . . but the severe, pointed features start to register. . . . then she realizes that it's Mr. Crouch.
"What on earth?!" whispers Maya, beyond bewildered at the sight in front of her.
He looks as though he's been traveling for days. The knees of his robes are ripped and bloody, his face scratched; he's unshaven and gray with exhaustion. His neat hair and mustache are both in need of a wash and a trim. His strange appearance,
however, is nothing to the way he's behaving. Muttering and gesticulating, Mr. Crouch appears to be talking to someone that
he alone can see.
“Vosn’t he a judge?” says Krum, staring at Mr. Crouch. “Isn’t he vith your Ministry?”
Harry nods, hesitating for a moment, then walks slowly toward Mr. Crouch, who does not look at him, but continues to talk to a nearby tree.
Maya would find this situation comical if the man hadn't just suddenly appeared out of the bushes.
“. . . and when you’ve done that, Weatherby, send an owl to Dumbledore confirming the number of Durmstrang students who will be attending the tournament, Karkaroff has just sent word there will be twelve. . . .”
“Mr. Crouch?” says Harry, cautiously.
“. . . and then send another owl to Madame Maxime, because she might want to up the number of students she’s bringing, now Karkaroff’s made it a round dozen . . . do that, Weatherby, will you? Will you? Will . . .”
Mr. Crouch’s eyes are bulging. He stands staring at the tree, muttering soundlessly at it. Then he staggers sideways and falls to his knees.
“Mr. Crouch?” says Harry, loudly, as Maya runs over to them. “Are you all right?”
Crouch’s eyes are rolling in his head. Maya looks around at Krum, who's followed her into the trees, and looks down at Crouch in alarm.
“Vot is wrong with him?”
“No idea,” Harry mutters. “Listen, you’d better go and get someone —”
“Dumbledore!” gasps Mr. Crouch. He reaches out and seizes a handful of Harry’s robes, dragging him closer, though his eyes are staring over Harry’s head. “I need . . . see . . . Dumbledore. . . .”
“Okay,” says Harry, “if you get up, Mr. Crouch, we can go up to the —”
“I’ve done . . . stupid . . . thing . . .” Mr. Crouch breathes. He looks utterly mad. His eyes are rolling and bulging, and a trickle of spittle slides down his chin. Every word he says seems to cost him a terrible effort. “Must . . . tell . . . Dumbledore . . .”
“Get up, Mr. Crouch,” says Harry, loudly and clearly. “Get up, I’ll take you to Dumbledore!”
Mr. Crouch’s eyes roll forward onto Harry.
“Who . . . you?” he whispers.
“I’m a student at the school,” says Harry, looking around at Krum for some help, but Krum hangs back, looking extremely nervous. Maya stands beside Harry, a worried expression on her face. Her wand is at the ready, defensive magic ready to be cast in case the situation goes south.
“You’re not . . . his?” whispers Crouch, his mouth sagging.
“No,” says Harry, without the faintest idea what Crouch is talking about.
“Dumbledore’s?”
“That’s right,” says Harry.
Crouch pulls him closer; Harry tries to loosen Crouch’s grip on his robes, but it's too powerful.
“Warn . . . Dumbledore . . .”
“I’ll get Dumbledore if you let go of me,” says Harry. “Just let go, Mr. Crouch, and I’ll get him. . . .”
“Thank you, Weatherby, and when you have done that, I would like a cup of tea. My wife and son will be arriving shortly, we are at-
tending a concert tonight with Mr. and Mrs. Fudge.”
Crouch is now talking fluently to a tree again, and seems completely unaware that Harry is there, which surprises Maya so much she doesn’t notice that Crouch has released him.
“Yes, my son has recently gained twelve O.W.L.s, most satisfactory, yes, thank you, yes, very proud indeed. Now, if you could bring me that memo from the Andorran Minister of Magic, I think I will have time to draft a response. . . .”
“You stay here with him!” Harry says to Krum. “Maya and I'll get Dumbledore, I know where his office is —”
“He is mad,” says Krum doubtfully, staring down at Crouch, who's still gabbling to the tree, apparently convinced that it's Percy.
“Just stay with him,” says Harry, starting to get up, but his movement seems to trigger another abrupt change in Mr. Crouch, who seizes him hard around the knees and pulls Harry back to the ground.
“Don’t . . . leave . . . me!” he whispers, his eyes bulging again. “I . . . escaped . . . must warn . . . must tell . . . see Dumbledore . . . my fault . . . all my fault . . . Bertha . . . dead . . . all my fault . . . my son . . . my fault . . . tell Dumbledore . . . Harry Potter . . . the Dark Lord . . . stronger . . . Harry Potter . . .”
“I’ll get Dumbledore if you let me go, Mr. Crouch!” says Harry. He looks furiously around at Maya. “Help me, will you?”
Looking and feeling extremely apprehensive, she moves forward and squats down next to Mr. Crouch. Her movements seems to trigger something in the man; His eyes suddenly bulge wide, and with a great gasp, he seizes Maya's wrist with an iron grip.
"You!" he hisses, as Maya gasps and tries to pry herself away from him, " Rajesh girl . . . . .demon. . . . .they. . . .take. . . .you. . . ."
"What?!" whispers Maya, horrified, managing to loosen his fingers from her wrist, "Mr. Crouch, what are you saying?"
"Find. . . .Dumbledore. . ." whispers Crouch, as Harry pulls her free, both of them standing.
“Just keep him here,” says Harry, to Krum, pulling himself free of Mr. Crouch. “I’ll be back with Dumbledore.”
“Hurry, von’t you?” Krum calls after them as Harry & Maya sprint away from the forest and up through the dark grounds. They're deserted; Bagman, Cedric, and Fleur have disappeared. Maya tears up the stone steps, through the oak front doors, and off up the marble staircase, towards the second floor.
Five minutes later, both of them are hurtling toward a stone gargoyle standing halfway along an empty corridor.
“Sher — sherbet lemon!” he pants at it, which Maya supposes is the password to get in.
The password has evidently changed, however, for the stone gargoyle does not spring to life and jump aside, but stands frozen, glaring at Harry and Maya malevolently.
“Move!” Harry shouts at it. “C’mon!”
"Harry. . ." tries Maya, as she hears footsteps from around the corner, "I don't think it's working —"
He looks up and down the dark corridor. Something seems to click in his head, and Harry starts running as fast as he can toward the staircase, dragging Maya along with him —
“POTTER! RAJESH!”
Maya skids to a halt and looked around. Snape has just emerged from the hidden staircase behind the stone gargoyle. The
wall is sliding shut behind him even as he beckons the both of them back toward him.
“What are you doing here, you two?” replies Snape, nasally, suspiciously looking at the pair of them, "Out for a romantic evening stroll?"
“We need to see Professor Dumbledore!” says Harry, “It’s Mr. Crouch . . . he’s just turned up . . . he’s in the forest . . . he’s asking —”
“What is this rubbish?” says Snape, his black eyes glittering. “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Crouch!” Maya tries. “From the Ministry! He’s ill or something — he’s in the forest, he wants to see Dumbledore! Just give us the password up to —”
“The headmaster is busy, Rajesh,” says Snape, his thin mouth curling into an unpleasant smile.
“I’ve got to tell Dumbledore!” Harry yells.
“Didn’t you hear me, Potter?”
Maya can tell Snape is thoroughly enjoying himself, denying Harry the thing he wants when he's so panicky.
“Look,” says Harry angrily, “Crouch isn’t right — he’s — he’s out of his mind — he says he wants to warn —”
The stone wall behind Snape slides open. Dumbledore's standing there, wearing long green robes and a mildly curious expression.
“Is there a problem?” he says, looking between the three of them.
“Professor!” Harry says, sidestepping Snape before he can speak, “Mr. Crouch is here — he’s down in the forest, he wants to speak to you!”
Maya expects Dumbledore to ask questions but to her relief, he does nothing of the sort.
“Lead the way,” he says promptly, and he sweeps off along the corridor behind Harry and Maya, leaving Snape standing next to the gargoyle
and looking twice as ugly.
“What did Mr. Crouch say, Harry?” says Dumbledore as they walk swiftly down the marble staircase.
“Said he wants to warn you . . . said he’s done something terrible . . . he mentioned his son . . . and Bertha Jorkins . . .and — and Voldemort . . . something about Voldemort getting stronger. . . .”
"Something about a demon. . ." adds Maya, worried, "Mentioned my name along with it. . ."
“Indeed,” says Dumbledore, and he quickens his pace as they hurry out into the pitch-darkness.
“He’s not acting normally,” Harry says, hurrying along beside Dumbledore. “He doesn’t seem to know where he is. He keeps
talking like he thinks Percy Weasley’s there, and then he changes, and says he needs to see you. . . . I left him with Viktor Krum.”
“You did?” says Dumbledore sharply, and he begins to take longer strides still, so that Maya's running to keep up. “Do you know if anybody else saw Mr. Crouch?”
“No,” says Harry. “Krum and I were talking, Mr. Bagman had just finished telling us about the third task, we stayed behind, Maya came to give me my wand after I forgot it in the common room and then we saw Mr. Crouch coming out of the forest —”
“Where are they?” says Dumbledore as the Beauxbatons carriage emerges from the darkness.
“Over here,” says Harry, moving in front of Dumbledore and Maya, leading the way through the trees. She can’t hear Crouch’s voice any-
more, but Maya knows where she's going; it hadn’t been much past the Beauxbatons carriage . . . somewhere around here. . . .
“Viktor?” Harry shouts.
No one answers.
“They were here,” Maya says to Dumbledore. “They were definitely somewhere around here. . . .”
“Lumos,” Dumbledore says, lighting his wand and holding it up.
Its narrow beam travels from black trunk to black trunk, illuminating the ground. And then it falls upon a pair of feet.
The three of them hurry forward. Krum is sprawled on the forest floor. He seems to be unconscious. There's no sign at all of Mr. Crouch.
Dumbledore bends over Krum and gently lifts one of his eyelids.
“Stunned,” he says softly. His half-moon glasses glitter in the wand light as he peers around at the surrounding trees.
“Should I go and get someone?” says Maya. “Madam Pomfrey?”
“No,” says Dumbledore swiftly. “Stay here, both of you.”
He raises his wand into the air and points it in the direction of Hagrid’s cabin. Maya sees something silvery dart out of it and streak away through the trees like a ghostly bird. Then Dumbledore bends over Krum again, points his wand at him, and mutters, “Rennervate.”
Krum opens his eyes. He looks dazed. When he sees Dumbledore, he tries to sit up, but Dumbledore puts a hand on his shoul-
der and makes him lie still.
“He attacked me!” Krum mutters, putting a hand up to his head. “The old madman attacked me! I vos looking around to see
vare Potter and his girlfriend had gone and he attacked from behind!”
"I'm not his girlfriend!" Maya corrects, at the same time Harry does. They look at each once and turn red.
“Lie still for a moment,” Dumbledore says, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
The sound of thunderous footfalls reach them, and Hagrid comes panting into sight with Fang at his heels. He's carrying his crossbow.
“Professor Dumbledore!” he says, his eyes widening. “Harry, Maya— what the — ?”
“Hagrid, I need you to fetch Professor Karkaroff,” says Dumbledore. “His student has been attacked. When you’ve done that, kindly alert Professor Moody —”
“No need, Dumbledore,” says a wheezy growl. “I’m here.” Moody limps toward them, leaning on his staff, his wand lit.
“Damn leg,” he says furiously. “Would’ve been here quicker . . .what’s happened? Snape said something about Crouch —”
“Crouch?” says Hagrid blankly.
“Karkaroff, please, Hagrid!” says Dumbledore sharply.
“Oh yeah . . . right y’are, Professor . . .” says Hagrid, and he turns and disappears into the dark trees, Fang trotting after him.
“I don’t know where Barty Crouch is,” Dumbledore tells Moody, “but it is essential that we find him.”
“I’m onto it,” growls Moody, and he pulls out his wand and limps off into the forest.
Neither Dumbledore, Maya nor Harry speak again until they hear the unmistakable sounds of Hagrid and Fang returning. Karkaroff is
hurrying along behind them. He's wearing his sleek silver furs, and he looks pale and agitated.
“What is this?” he cries when he sees Krum on the ground and Dumbledore, Maya and Harry beside him. “What’s going on?”
“I vos attacked!” says Krum, sitting up now and rubbing his head. “Mr. Crouch or votever his name —”
“Crouch attacked you? Crouch attacked you? The Triwizard judge?”
“Igor,” Dumbledore begins, but Karkaroff draws himself up, clutching his furs around him, looking livid.
“Treachery!” he bellows, pointing at Dumbledore. “It is a plot! You and your Ministry of Magic have lured me here under false pretenses, Dumbledore! This is not an equal competition! First you sneak Potter into the tournament, though he is underage! Now one of your Ministry friends attempts to put my champion out of action! I smell double-dealing and corruption in this whole affair, and you, Dumbledore, you, with your talk of closer international wizarding links, of rebuilding old ties, of forgetting old differences — here’s what I think of you!”
Karkaroff spits onto the ground at Dumbledore’s feet. In one swift movement, Hagrid seizes the front of Karkaroff’s furs, lifts him into the air, and slams him against a nearby tree.
“Apologize!” Hagrid snarls as Karkaroff gasped for breath, Hagrid’s massive fist at his throat, his feet dangling in midair.
“Hagrid, no!” Dumbledore shouts, his eyes flashing.
Hagrid removes the hand pinning Karkaroff to the tree, and Karkaroff slides all the way down the trunk and slumps in a huddle at its roots; a few twigs and leaves shower down upon his head.
“Kindly escort Harry and Maya back up to the castle, Hagrid,” says Dumbledore sharply.
Breathing heavily, Hagrid gives Karkaroff a glowering look.
“Maybe I’d better stay here, Headmaster. . . .”
“You will take Harry and Maya back to school, Hagrid,” Dumbledore repeats firmly. “Take them right up to Gryffindor Tower. And Harry — I want you to stay there. Anything you might want to do — any owls you might want to send — they can wait until morning, do you understand me?”
“Er — yes,” says Harry, staring at him.
Dumbledore gives Maya a look.
"You too, Maya"
"Yes Professor," she says, quietly, not wanting to raise any suspicions.
“I’ll leave Fang with yeh, Headmaster,” Hagrid says, staring menacingly at Karkaroff, who is still sprawled at the foot of the tree, tangled in furs and tree roots. “Stay, Fang. C’mon, Harry.”
They march in silence past the Beauxbatons carriage and up toward the castle.
“How dare he,” Hagrid growls as they stride past the lake. “How dare he accuse Dumbledore. Like Dumbledore’d do anythin’ like that. Like Dumbledore wanted you in the tournament in the firs’ place. Worried! I dunno when I seen Dumbledore more worried than he’s bin lately. An’ you!” Hagrid suddenly says angrily to Harry, who looks up at him, taken aback. “What were yeh doin’, wanderin’ off with ruddy Krum? He’s from Durmstrang, Harry! Coulda jinxed yeh right there, couldn’ he? Hasn’ Moody taught yeh nothin’? ’Magine lettin’ him lure yeh off on yer own —”
“Krum’s all right!” says Harry, as they climbed the steps into the entrance hall. “He wasn’t trying to jinx me, he just wanted to talk
about Hermione —”
“I’ll be havin’ a few words with her, an’ all,” says Hagrid grimly, stomping up the stairs. “The less you lot ’ave ter do with these for-
eigners, the happier yeh’ll be. Yeh can’ trust any of ’em.”
“You were getting on all right with Madame Maxime,” Harry says, annoyed.
“Don’ you talk ter me abou’ her!” says Hagrid, and he looks quite frightening for a moment. “I’ve got her number now! Tryin’ ter get back in my good books, tryin’ ter get me ter tell her what’s comin’ in the third task. Ha! You can’ trust any of ’em!”
Hagrid in in such a bad mood, Maya's quite glad to say good-bye to him in front of the Fat Lady. She clambers through the portrait hole into the common room and hurries straight for the corner where Ron and Hermione are sitting, to tell them what's just happened.
"It comes down to this,” says Hermione, rubbing her forehead. “Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else at-
tacked both of them when Viktor wasn’t looking.”
“It must’ve been Crouch,” says Ron at once. “That’s why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He’d done a runner.”
“I don’t think so,” says Maya, shaking her head. “He seemed really weak — I don’t think he was up to Disapparating or anything.”
“You can’t Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven’t I told you enough times?” says Hermione.
“Okay . . . how’s this for a theory,” says Ron excitedly. “Krum attacked Crouch — no, wait for it — and then Stunned himself!”
“And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?” says Hermione coldly.
“Oh yeah . . .”
It's daybreak. Harry, Ron, Maya and Hermione have crept out of their dormitories very early and hurried up to the Owlery together
to send a note to Sirius. Now they're standing looking out at the misty grounds. All four of them are puffy-eyed and pale because
they were been talking late into the night about Mr. Crouch.
“Just go through it again, Harry,” said Hermione. “What did Mr. Crouch actually say?”
“I’ve told you, he wasn’t making much sense,” says Harry. “He said he wanted to warn Dumbledore about something. He definitely mentioned Bertha Jorkins, and he seemed to think she was dead. He kept saying stuff was his fault. . . . He mentioned his son.”
“Well, that was his fault,” says Hermione testily.
“He was out of his mind,” says Maya. “Half the time he seemed to think his wife and son were still alive, and he kept talking to Percy about work and giving him instructions.”
“And . . . remind me what he said about You-Know-Who?” says Ron tentatively.
“I’ve told you,” Harry repeated dully. “He said he’s getting stronger.”
There was a pause. Then Ron said in a falsely confident voice,
“But he was out of his mind, like you said, so half of it was probably just raving. . . .”
“He was sanest when he was trying to talk about Voldemort,” says Harry, and Ron winces at the sound of the name. “He was having real trouble stringing two words together, but that was when he seemed to know where he was, and know what he wanted to do. He just kept saying he had to see Dumbledore.”
Harry turns away from the window and stared up into the rafters. The many perches are half-empty; every now and then, another owl swoops in through one of the windows, returning from its night’s hunting with a mouse in its beak.
“If Snape hadn’t held me up,” Harry says bitterly, “we might’ve got there in time. ‘The headmaster is busy, Potter . . . what’s this
rubbish, Potter?’ Why couldn’t he have just got out of the way?”
“Maybe he didn’t want you to get there!” says Ron quickly.
“Maybe — hang on — how fast d’you reckon he could’ve gotten down to the forest? D’you reckon he could’ve beaten you two and
Dumbledore there?”
“Not unless he can turn himself into a bat or something,” says Maya.
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Ron mutters.
“We need to see Professor Moody,” says Hermione. “We need to find out whether he found Mr. Crouch.”
“If he had the Marauder’s Map on him, it would’ve been easy,” says Harry.
“Unless Crouch was already outside the grounds,” says Ron, “because it only shows up to the boundaries, doesn’t —”
“Shh!” says Hermione suddenly.
Somebody's climbing the steps up to the Owlery. Maya can hear two voices arguing, coming closer and closer.
“— that’s blackmail, that is, we could get into a lot of trouble for that —”
“— we’ve tried being polite; it’s time to play dirty, like him. He wouldn’t like the Ministry of Magic knowing what he did —”
“I’m telling you, if you put that in writing, it’s blackmail!”
“Yeah, and you won’t be complaining if we get a nice fat payoff, will you?”
The Owlery door bangs open. Fred and George come over the threshold, then freeze at the sight of Harry, Ron, Maya and Hermione.
“What’re you doing here?” Ron and Fred say at the same time.
“Sending a letter,” say Harry and George in unison.
“What, at this time?” say Maya and Fred.
Fred grins.
“Fine — we won’t ask you what you’re doing, if you don’t ask us,” he says.
He's holding a sealed envelope in his hands. Maya glances at it, but Fred, whether accidentally or on purpose, shifts his hand so that the name on it is covered.
“Well, don’t let us hold you up,” Fred says, making a mock bow and pointing at the door.
Ron doesn’t move. “Who’re you blackmailing?” he says.
The grin vanishes from Fred’s face. Maya sees George half glance at Fred, before smiling at Ron.
“Don’t be stupid, I was only joking,” he says easily.
“Didn’t sound like that,” says Ron.
Fred and George look at each other. Then Fred says abruptly,
“I’ve told you before, Ron, keep your nose out if you like it the shape it is. Can’t see why you would, but —”
“It’s my business if you’re blackmailing someone,” says Ron, “George’s right, you could end up in serious trouble for that.”
“Told you, I was joking,” says George. He walks over to Fred, pulls the letter out of his hands, and begins attaching it to the leg
of the nearest barn owl. “You’re starting to sound a bit like our dear older brother, you are, Ron. Carry on like this and you’ll be made a
prefect.”
“No, I won’t!” says Ron hotly.
George carries the barn owl over to the window and it takes off. He turns around and grins at Ron.
“Well, stop telling people what to do then. See you later.”
He and Fred leave the Owlery. Harry, Ron, Maya and Hermione stare at one another.
“You don’t think they know something about all this, do you?” Maya whispers. “About Crouch and everything?”
“No,” says Harry. “If it was something that serious, they’d tell someone. They’d tell Dumbledore.”
Ron, however, looks uncomfortable.
“What’s the matter?” Hermione asks him.
“Well . . .” says Ron slowly, “I dunno if they would. They’re . . .they’re obsessed with making money lately, I noticed it when I was
hanging around with them — when — you know —”
“We weren’t talking.” Harry finishes the sentence for him.
“Yeah, but blackmail . . .”
“It’s this joke shop idea they’ve got,” says Ron. “I thought they were only saying it to annoy Mum, but they really mean it, they want to start one. They’ve only got a year left at Hogwarts, they keep going on about how it’s time to think about their future, and Dad can’t help them, and they need gold to get started.”
Hermione looks uncomfortable now.
“Yes, but . . . they wouldn’t do anything against the law to get gold.”
“Wouldn’t they?” said Ron, looking skeptical. “I dunno . . . they don’t exactly mind breaking rules, do they?”
“Yes, but this is the law,” says Hermione, looking scared, “This isn’t some silly school rule. . . . They’ll get a lot more than detention for blackmail! Ron . . . maybe you’d better tell Percy. . . .”
“Are you mad?” says Ron. “Tell Percy? He’d probably do a Crouch and turn them in.” He stares at the window through which Fred
and Georges owl has departed, then says, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast.”
The next few days pass by without any incident for Maya; except for the letters of course, they just keep pouring in. The crass behavior doesn't stop there; Romilda and her friends have taken to congregating in the corridors whenever Maya passes by, giggling and whispering statements that would turn Hermione's hair even bushier than it already is. She ignores them, but it soon becomes apparent that they aren't going to leave her alone.
"Just ignore them" mutters Maya, as Diana and her pass them by during the first week of June, "Idiots. . . . .probably don't have anything better to do. . . ."
"Hey, Rajesh!" one of them calls out, voice taunting, "Where's Harry? Did you two break up?"
Maya rolls her eyes, looking over her shoulder.
"He's not my boyfriend, Clearwater"
"That's not what Rita Skeeter says," interjects Romilda, reapplying her flashy, pink lip gloss while pouting into a hand mirror. Maya rolls her eyes, Diana scoffing at the Gryffindor's words.
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Romilda?" retorts the Hufflepuff, only stopping as Maya pulls her back. Something flashes triumphantly in Romilda's eyes; she sets down the mirror, puckering her lips in distaste as she walks towards Maya and Diana.
"What if I do?" Romilda retorts, voice dripping with false sweetness.
The words leave Maya's lips before she can stop herself.
"Then you clearly don't have anything better to do than stalking me. Didn't Flitwick give you a 'T' on our last Charms essay?"
Gasps resound from around them; Diana whispering in Maya's ear for them to leave now, before the situation gets worse. But Maya doesn't budge; some small, silent part of her is roaring at finally being able to fight back. Romilda, however, is unfazed, except for a small, malicious twinkle appearing in her left eye.
"Grades can be fixed," replies Romilda, casually inspecting her nails, "What can't however, is your sordid little past. Tell me, dear Maya, how is your family these days?"
Maya clenches her teeth, hands balling into fists at her sides.
"Oh, I forgot!" states Romilda, airily, as the girls behind her cackle, "You don't have one!"
Diana gives an outraged gasp behind her; A crowd gathers around them, Maya being able to spot the lithe, smirking outline of Pansy Parkinson within seconds.
"You don't know what you're talking about," hisses Maya, through gritted teeth, as 'ooh' s resonate around them.
"Don't I?" replies Romilda, tone simpering, a faux pout etched onto her glossed lips, "Because it seems to me, sweetheart, that your parents never loved each other. After all, we all know that the only reason they ever got married was that your mother was eyeing the poor man's money."
"She did not" seethes Diana, next to her, about ready to hex the precocious girl, "She did not just go there —"
"Oh, she did" replies Maya, furious, taking out her wand, "And she's going to pay for it"
"It's pathetic, really, your situation, " muses Romilda, faux-casually, "No friends, no family, even your boyfriend doesn't want you in his life. What on earth are you going to do with your poor self?"
"Resist the urge to kick your ass" Maya replies, seething.
Romilda's expression twists into something darker, ugly jealousy splattered like venom all over her features. Before Maya can do anything, she raises her wand.
"Anteoculatia!" shouts Romilda, a red jet of light suddenly escaping her wand, headed straight for Maya's chest. Diana screams, as Maya suddenly dodges it, pulling her friend to the side.
"Aqua Eructo!" Maya retorts, sending a clear jet of water straight into Romilda's face. It isn't a hex — Maya's still scared of sinking down to her level — but enough to slow her down, buying Maya and Diana time to escape.
Unfortunately, Maya's attempt to back out isn't gone unnoticed by the other Gryffindor.
"You — you coward!" shrieks Romilda, not even bothering to conceal her rage, "Calvorio!!'
The scalping curse is what wakes Maya up; This isn't just a petty fight anymore. Romilda's anger is rooted in something truly ugly, an acrid posion that rots tooth and flesh alike. She feels the same darkness inside her; Hell, it's chasing itself into her blood right now, screaming bloody murder for her to lash out. But unlike Romilda, Maya realizes, too late, she knows how to control it, use it sparingly.
And that's what makes this fight unfair.
Fuck not fighting fire with fire, she'll burn her assailant to the ground if she has to.
"Avis!" screams Maya, weeks of suppressed rage burning in her eyes. The yellow birds assimilate themselves into a line, then fly toward Romilda in rapid succession, clawing and attacking her as she screams and covers her face. Vicious satisfaction courses through Maya at her work, a strange sense of power floating through her veins at the curse she managed to rack out of her brain.
Draco Malfoy was right; Revenge is sweet.
"RAJESH!! VANE!! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"
Snape looks murderous, vanishing the birds, immediately stalking over to Maya, grabbing her by the wrist as he snatches her wand out of her hand. White-hot fear floods through Maya at this, and she suddenly blanches at her previous actions.
Oh God.
Why did she ever, ever think that hexing Romilda Vane — with the Oppugno curse, no less — was a good idea? Usually, Maya prides herself at being able to have a significant amount of control over her emotions. That doesn't mean that she doesn't feel things, it's just that she prefers to work by logic instead. But at this very moment, all rationality seems to have escaped her; She lost complete control over her anger and hexed another student, in front of a crowd!!
Maya can't even begin to imagine the amount of trouble she's gotten herself in for this.
"Professor — " pleads Maya, trying to get him to listen to her, as Snape drags them both straight to McGonagall's office, "If you could just let me explain — "
"Shut up!" he snaps at her, so venomously that Maya jerks back in his grip, "There are absolutely no excuses for your actions, Rajesh. If you were in my house, I'd have you suspended before you could even utter a single word. "
Maya's heart is furiously pounding in her chest by the time they reach the door of her head of house's office; Snape raps his knuckles on the door twice before a stern voice gives them the go-ahead to come inside. Her stomach lurches violently as Snape practically throws her inside, having to grip onto the chair for balance as the room sways around her. McGonagall raises her eyebrows, setting down the piece of parchment in order to survey the two students in front of her.
"What seems to be the problem, Severus?" she questions, eyeing Maya's uncharacteristic paleness with an edge of concern.
"She —" gestures Snape to Maya, violently enough to make her flinch, "was dueling with Miss Vane in the middle of the courtyard, and thought it appropriate to use a banned curse in combat."
McGonagall's expression hardens considerably as she surveys Maya, who's squirming in her seat out of embarrassment
"Is that so?" she replies, sardonically, clicking her tongue, "What curse did you use, Ms. Rajesh?"
Maya nervously swallows, sucking in air into her lungs. Her nails dig into the wood of the seat, leaving little crescent-shaped marks from how much pressure she's putting on it.
"A-Avis" she manages to stammer out, "But I only cast it because I was provoked — "
"You were provoked?" questions McGonagall, surprised.
"Well — I — "
"That's not true!" whines Romilda, voice so high-pitched that it hurts Maya to listen, "I was just talking to her and her friend and we had a disagreement. Then she just pulled her wand out of nowhere and hexed me!"
"What?!" gasps Maya, outraged, "Professor, she's lying! That's not at all what happened — "
"No, she's the one who's lying — "
"ENOUGH!!" bellows Professor Snape, glaring at both of them with such ferocity that Maya shrinks down in her seat.
Suddenly, a knock sounds from outside. Romilda pales, Snape looks surprised, and McGonagall furrows her eyebrows yet again.
"Who is it?" she calls out, probably wondering who the hell would want to pay her a visit at this time.
"Professor, it's me, Diana!" calls out a familiar voice, "I have something important to speak to you about!"
"Can't it wait?" questions McGonagall, looking slightly annoyed.
"I have evidence regarding Romilda's accusations, that Maya's the one at fault for this"
Maya goes cold with horror.
What could she possibly have dug up in the past five minutes?!
Snape and McGonagall share a look; her face is tense, filled with mild intrigue while he looks like he's just swallowed a lemon.
"Come in!" says McGonagall, magically opening the door. Diana has a determined expression on her face as she steps inside, carrying her satchel, which, for some reason, looks heavier than usual, furthering Maya's suspicions of what could be in there.
"Well" replies Snape, voice somewhat tighter than before, "Why are you here, Ms. Malfoy?"
Diana sighs.
"To prove my friend's innocence in all of this, Professor"
"Diana — " starts Maya, worried that her friend will dig herself in deeper.
"It's okay," interrupts the Hufflepuff, giving Maya a small, reassuring smile, "I've got this"
"And how do you intend to do that?" questions McGonagall, hands folded in front of her.
Diana takes a deep breath.
"Ever since that Witch Weekly article came out, Maya has been harassed with hate mail," Diana explains, as McGonagall's eyes go wide, "At first, they were just horrible notes, telling her that 'Harry deserves better' and things of that sort. But Romilda decided to take it further. She and her friends sent Maya a bottle of exploding pepper-up potion at the Gryffindor table " — Diana reaches into her bag, and pullls out the charred remnants of the container — " which splattered all over her shirt, rendering her skin burnt and therefore forced Maya into being in such an extreme amount of pain that she missed all of her morning classes, due to not being able to get out of bed."
Snape's expression hardens considerably; McGonagall looks very grave. Romilda looks as though she's just been slapped, mouth half-open in shock. Maya can't even breathe with how simultaneously grateful and horrified she is. Diana's eyes have a triumphant glint in them as she continues. Diana reaches over to Maya and unbuttons the first two buttons on her uniform shirt, exposing the red, scarred skin for their Head of Year to see.
"And that's not all she's done," continues Diana, voice with an edge of anger, "She sent Maya a note along with the potion" — Maya gasps as she pulls out a strip of parchment, identical to the one Romilda sent her — "along with a few others that I can procure if you wish, all filled with racist, malevolent statements that were intended to scare her into letting her supposed "boyfriend" go."
One by one, Diana places the letters on McGonagall's desk. The woman's face turns white as she skims the contents of them, staring up at Romilda every few seconds, who looks as though she'd love nothing more for the earth beneath her to open up and swallow her whole.
"These are very serious allegations, Ms. Malfoy, " says the Professor, finally placing her hands down on the desk, "And as for you, Ms. Rajesh, why didn't you say anything before?"
Maya sighs, looking down at her lap for a moment.
" I just — " Maya starts, unable to find words, " I was scared that it would get worse if I told people. I was just waiting for the whole to blow over so I could live in peace. I know that doesn't excuse my actions. . . " — Maya glances at Romilda, who glares at her with so much hatred it's as if she's mentally trying to rip her to shreds — " But I was panicked, and wasn't thinking properly. I'm sorry. . . Romilda" she finishes, a bitter taste in her mouth at the other girl's name, "I shouldn't have used that hex on you"
She probably overdid her apology (if you can even call it that), but Maya waits with bated breath, hoping that her earnestness will somehow lessen the fallout this incident will undoubtedly create.
Snape awkwardly clears his throat as McGonagall glares at him, clearly angry about the way he's treated the situation. Her expression softens, however, as she looks at Maya, within something akin to sympathy, but not quite there yet.
"That was very. . . . .mature . . . of you, Ms. Rajesh," she says, finally, kinder than previously, "I'm deeply sorry about what you've had to go through."
"It's . . .fine. . . Professor" replies Maya, a little uneasily.
"As for you, Ms. Vane" states McGonagall, tone a little sharper, "You should be very ashamed of yourself. I'll have you know that racism is not tolerated at this school, especially towards people of color. Your behavior is unforgivable and shows that you are ignorant and spiteful towards those you think lesser than you. Both of your parents will be notified of this incident."
"But — " tries Romilda, a last-ditch attempt to preserve her reputation, "Professor, I didn't mean anything —"
"That is a lie" cuts in Professor McGonagall, voice icy, "If you hadn't meant anything, you wouldn't have crossed the line between teasing and harassment " — her eyes flit to the scars visible from Maya's two open-top buttons — , "Fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor for your actions. Your Hogsmeade privileges are hereby suspended for the remainder of the year, and you will spend them in detention with Professor Snape, who has some old records he needs to sort through in the dungeons"
Romilda's mouth opens, and then shuts. She looks like she's going to cry, slumping back in her seat with a touch of defiance, which doesn't go unnoticed by her Head Of House.
McGonagall gives her a deathly glare.
"You're lucky I haven't asked the Headmaster to expel you yet"
Diana looks very, very satisfied with herself, shooting Maya a sly wink as McGonagall turns away from Romilda.
"As for you, Ms. Rajesh, though I do recognize the fact that you acted out of panic and in order to defend yourself, the curse you used is banned within Hogwarts. For this, you'll have to spend one evening in detention with Professor Trelawney, helping her rearrange the Divination classroom"
"That's fair, Professor" replies Maya, somewhat relieved that she's not going to have a permanent black mark on her record.
The three girls are soon allowed to leave McGonagall's office, with a warning to never, ever attempt to duel each other in the corridors again unless they're looking for a suspension. She doesn't miss the dirty look Romilda shoots her as they depart, pointedly bumping into her as she walks off to her class. Maya and Diana's day, however, has ended, having both missed their last classes due to being in McGonagall's office for over an hour. They walk out onto the sunlit courtyard sitting beneath the beech tree as the sea-green black lake shimmers in the brightness of day.
"You have no idea how much I love you right now!" whispers Maya, after enveloping Diana in a hug so tight it almost broke her ribs. Diana chuckles, a small smirk making it's way onto her face, "How did you even find all of that stuff?"
"As creepy as it sounds, I saved it, " replies Diana, slinging an arm around the Gryffindor's shoulders, "Knew we'd need it someday if the situation ever escalated"
"You're a genius, Di" Maya proclaims, ruffling the younger girl's hair, "What can I ever do to repay you?"
"Buy me ice cream at Fortescue's on Fridays. . . . . and I'll consider a few options"
"You're not going to make me sell my soul, are you?"
Diana grins, devilishly, looking identical to her Slytherin brother.
"Maybe"
"Admit it, Rajesh" states Draco Malfoy, smugly, when they run into either other at the Astronomy tower later, "I was right all along"
"Sure you were," scoffs Maya, tying her letter to the leg of a tiny brown barn owl, which hoots cheerfully at her before flying away.
"I can't believe you took my advice in the first place" he muses, leaning against the railing with that insufferable smirk on his face. Maya rolls her eyes.
"First of all, " she replies, raising her index finger in the air haughtily, "I reacted because she was going to scalp me, not because I was listening to you"
"But did cursing her feel good?" he questions, looking her directly in the eye. Maya's suddenly aware of how his broad body eclipses hers; When they're standing like this, the top of her head barely comes up to his chin. In this lighting, something in his grey eyes glitters silver, making her stomach do a strange somersault. She gulps, trying to avoid acknowledging the strange way her skin seems to prickle around him.
". . .Fine, you're right" she mumbles, as he chuckles, "I'm never going to forget the look on her face when she realized what I did"
"Y'know, I'm surprised you didn't hex her with something worse" questions Draco, curiously, "Being a warlock, I thought you'd use something more powerful"
"I did . . . . think about it" she admits, as his eyebrows raise, "But in the end, I decided that she wasn't worth it. Also . . . I try to avoid using my warlock powers as much as I can"
Draco furrows his eyebrows.
"Why?" he questions, curious, "It's so much more effective than just regular wizarding spells"
Maya sighs.
"It just feels. . . .wrong" she answers, after a while, resting her chin in her palm as she looks at him, "I don't know how else to describe it. Warlock magic is tied to demonic energy. I have to harness my demon blood to be able to use it. It's more powerful . . . . but it's easy to get high off of it"
"What?!" questions Draco, eyes widening as he straightens up, "That can't be true!"
"It is" continues Maya, a faraway look in her eyes, "You've heard of the saying "drunk on power", right?. That's what happens to some warlocks, who go above the safe amount of magic able to be cast in one go. Using too much of your magic at once causes an effect similar to intoxication. You become less aware of what you're doing. In some cases, your magic could lash out at you, reflecting the curse back onto the caster. It's too much of a gamble if you want to retain your peace of mind,"
"You think you're powerful enough for something like that to happen?" asks Draco, skepticism edged into his tone. Oddly, Maya doesn't feel offended by the question.
"So I'm told," she murmurs, softly, looking off into the sunset. There's a pause for a few moments; the silence around them is comfortable, inviting. Maya hears him laugh, running a hand through his hair.
"What's so funny?" she questions, raising an eyebrow, turning back to Draco.
"You have all this power — " he gestures to her figure, leaning against the railing, " all this potential — or whatever you want to call it — and somehow managed to stay hidden for almost your entire life?"
"Um. . .yes?" replies Maya, confused, unsure at what he's getting at.
"How?" questions Draco, appalled, "How are people not impressed with you? How aren't you getting scholarships to come study at prestigious schools? Potter gets a free ride because he's the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and you're living in the shadows?"
"It's not like that," tries Maya, moving her braid to rest on her left shoulder, "I don't usually bring stuff like this up with people. It gets the wrong kind of attention. And I hate when that happens. People stop viewing me as a person. Instead, they start to see me as some 'all-powerful' being that can grant anything you wish. It makes it easier for others to use me,"
"Then why did you tell me?" he questions, making Maya roll her eyes yet again. She looks off into the pink-and-yellow streaked sky as she thinks, the sun a sphere of gold against the watercolored sunset, "I'm not exactly on your list of 'guardian angels' "
Maya sighs, a lump forming in her throat as she looks him directly in the eye.
"I trust you" she states, after a while, "I don't know why, but I do. I probably shouldn't, considering this whole arrangement that we have. You have the most chance of suddenly turning and stabbing me in the bag. But when I'm around you. . . .I feel. . .open. Like all the chatter in my mind has stopped and I can finally think clearly. I feel like you won't hurt me if I tell you the truth. I don't why I feel that way. But I do. And I can't ignore it"
Something intrinsic in his eyes falls as they stare at each other, some wall that's usually up at all times. For a moment, Draco Malfoy looks unsure of himself, vulnerable. There's something different in the way he looks at her, like he's let his guard down. It makes her cheeks color, blood rushing to the skin above her cheekbones.
And Maya realizes that she likes it.
somehow this is over 10k words?? i did not expect this chapter to be so lengthy, even though it's canon-heavy. anyway, this is the last "light" chapter in this book, if you'll call it that. chapter nineteen will probably be out the week after next, and i mean it when i say it's VERY pivotal. everything's going to change for the characters, especially draco and maya. you'll find out the truth behind maya's past. . . .and some other stuff will happen. anyway, just mentally prepare yourself before reading it (i'm going to put the appropriate trigger warnings on top). anyway, hope you enjoyed this chapter, and thank you so much for giving my story a chance!
- xoxo, aria
Chapter Text
TW: major dark themes, elements of satanism (demonic ritual), kidnapping, moderate torture (not graphic) major character death. the death eaters try to raise a demon, and there's a lot of violence in this chapter. subtle threats of sexual assault. to summarize, this is the part of the story where everything turns around and begins to pick up speed. it's incredibly pivotal, but also very dark, and i understand if you don't want to read further. if you're triggered by anything in this chapter, don't read it. i'll write a summary of the events at the end in case you don't want to miss out on the events.
𝕵𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
THE DAYS LEADING UP TO THE THIRD TASK ARE somewhat peaceful yet chaotic in Maya's eyes.
Ron, Hermione and her are supposed to be studying for their exams, since they finish on the very day the final task commences. It's one of the worst setups imaginable — teaching Harry defensive spells and hexes alongside reviewing History Of Magic, which makes her head spin with how boring it is. But at the same time, it feels like the tension has ceased, thanks to Diana's absolutely brilliant work, exposing Romilda for who she really is. She's able to concentrate more on her studies than she was before, the degrading taunts and insults no longer taking up most of her mental energy.
The world around her seems to be brighter than before. Maya's ability to find joy in simple things has returned, such as the way the faint golden-brown tones in her skin are brought out in the vibrant sunshine that decorates the grounds of Hogwarts. The grass on the lawn seems to smell a bit sweeter, the musty smell of the library feeling a bit more familiar. It's ironic, she supposes, considering that she'll be back home in less than two weeks, but Maya can't help but feel that she's going to miss the castle during the summer.
She's made plans with Diana, having her over in New York for the last two weeks of summer, since that's the only time the Hufflepuff could convince her parents to let her leave the Manor. A part of her is very worried to leave Diana alone with her parents. Something about their behavior just doesn't sit right with her, this whole thing of 'disowning' someone like that just because they didn't fit your expectations.
If they were willing to disgrace their own daughter like that in public, who knows what they could do in private?
Nevertheless, the morning of June-twenty-fourth arrives sooner than expected. The champion's families have come to visit them, the Weasleys showing up in place of Harry's aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. They don't sound nice, from what he's told her and Diana, so it's probably a good thing that they never bothered to show up. Mrs. Weasley, however, eyes Hermione and Maya a bit testily, tone considerably stiffer than it was last summer. However, she becomes considerably warmer towards them when Harry explains the situation to her, that it was all just a cock-up by Rita Skeeter and how neither of them are — or were ever — his girlfriends.
Speaking of Rita Skeeter, the morning paper is filled with another vile article penned in her hand. Titled "Harry Potter — Disturbed & Dangerous", it's yet another smear campaign, determined to paint her friend as an unstable,attention-seeking lunatic who just lives for the spotlight. Featured in it, to her surprise — in all honesty, Maya can't believe that she didn't anticipate this — is a quote from none other than the fanciful Draco Malfoy. He just had to put in a word, to make his dislike of Harry known, as if it isn't already a common topic of conversation with their friends. He's parroted the same things written in the article — which makes her question why she even trusts him in the first place.
Then again, when has Maya ever been good with her emotions?
Anyway, the Great Hall bustles with chatter at the evening feast. Ludo Bagman and Cornelius Fudge have joined the staff table now. Bagman looks quite cheerful, but Cornelius Fudge, who's sitting next to Madame Maxime, looks stern and is not talking. Madame Maxime, however, concentrates on her plate, and her eyes suspiciously red. Hagrid keeps glancing along the table at her.
There are more courses than usual, but Maya, for some reason, is nervous, barely being able to eat more than a few bites of pasta, which is unusual, considering the fact that she was starving after her last exam. As the enchanted ceiling overhead begins to fade from blue to a dusky purple, Dumbledore rises to his feet at the staff table, and silence falls.
“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now?”
Harry gets up, face practically white from nerves. The Gryffindors all along the table applaud him; the Weasleys, Hermione and Maya all wish him good luck, and he heads off out of the Great Hall with Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor. A feeling of uncertainty washes over her; This is it. This is the culmination of everything the three of them have prepared Harry for, including a few . . . .questionable. . . . curses Maya passed onto him, taught to her a year earlier by a worried Magnus, in case she ever has to defend herself.
If that doesn't help, all Maya can do is pray he gets through on his own merit.
Five minutes later, they go down to the stands; the air is full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students
file into their seats. Maya and Diana sit a few feet away from Ron and Hermione, closer to a group of Ravenclaw girls that include Parvati and Padma Patil. Padma gives Maya a polite wave, but Parvati just glares at her, only looking away when her sister elbows her in the ribs.
"What's her problem?" questions Diana, frowning.
"No clue" mutters Maya, giving Parvati the benefit of the doubt.
The sky is a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars start to appear. Hagrid, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walk into the stadium and approach Bagman and the champions. They wear large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who has his on the back of his moleskin vest. Professor McGonagall appears to be briefing the champions on something, all of them giving her terse nods as she speaks. Then, the four of them walk away, disappearing around the edges of the maze, presumably to patrol the area.
Bagman now points his wand at his throat, and his magically magnified voice echoes into the stands.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, with eighty-five points each — Mr. Cedric Diggory and Mr. Harry Potter, both of Hogwarts School!” The cheers and applause send birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. “In second place, with eighty points — Mr. Viktor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!” More applause. “And in third place — Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!”
Harry gives them a nervous wave from the stadium, Maya and Diana return it, shooting the older boy reassuring smiles.
“So . . . on my whistle, Harry and Cedric!” says Bagman, “Three — two — one —”
He gives a short blast on his whistle, and Harry and Cedric hurry forward into the maze.
Maya's heart drops into her stomach, Diana automatically reaching out to grasp her hand, giving it a light squeeze. Bagman whistles for the second time. Krum enters the maze, the Durmstrang champions cheering behind him. The whistle rings a fourth and final time as Fleur jogs into the maze, to polite applause and whoops from the Beauxbatons crowd.
As of now, the games have officially begun
It's an hour and a half into the final task, and Draco Malfoy still feels like he's going to vomit.
It's as if an iron band is slowly tightening around his chest with each minute, a slow-acting noose designed to break his ribs in half. Though it's surprisingly breezy outside, the air around him feels thick, heavy, a struggle to breathe in and out of his lungs. He realizes how odd he must look compared to everyone else, a shard of glass in a field of daisies. Luckily, none of his friends notice; Crabbe and Goyle are busy sniggering over some rolls they stole from the dinner table, Pansy's sincerely choosing that very moment to reapply her crimson lipstick, Blaise is gazing at Daphne a few seats away, chin contemplatively resting in the palm of his hand. Theo is busy chatting up an uninterested Ravenclaw, smirking, unaware that his so-called "best mate" is minutes from falling to pieces.
Today's the last day.
Draco glances to the side, trying to look as inconspicuous as he can. There she is, sitting relaxedly next to Diana, whose head is slumped on her shoulder, half-awake. Maya Rajesh yawns, placing the back of her hand on her mouth to cover it up. The harsh light from her phone screen illuminates her face, thumb absentmindedly scrolling down. She laughs at something briefly, but it sounds exhausted, another yawn escaping her lips as she stretches, yet again, arms extended to her sides as her back arches in her seat.
Then their eyes meet.
Draco forces himself to look away as quickly as he can, ignoring the way his cheeks color as he feels her curious gaze on him. He feels her look away after a few seconds, but the strange pull is still there. His heart pounds in his chest, and even as Draco forces himself to brush it aside, he can't help but acknowledge the uncanny effect that she has on him.
What's up with her?
More importantly, what's up with him? He's somehow gotten her to trust him; she told him that to his face. But instead of feeling triumphant, as he should, Draco feels nothing but a painful sinking feeling in his chest. He keeps having to tell himself not to get attached, that she's someone he's using for a means to an end. But dehumanization has done absolutely nothing to kill whatever strange emotions come to the surface when he looks at her. He still loses focus whenever he thinks about how vulnerable her voice sounded that evening at the Astronomy tower. . . . . the golden rays of the setting sun reflecting off of the metal bars and making the silver woven into her eyes sparkle brilliantly for just a tiny, tiny second. . . . .the way Maya looked at him, with a certain intensity, unwavering, as if she was staring directly through his soul. . . . .the way her breath seemed to hitch just for a millisecond as their eyes met. . . .
Oh.
Oh.
Bloody. Fucking. Hell.
By Salazar, how could he have ever let it get this far?
Against all his wishes, the unthinkable has happened.
Draco Malfoy has somehow developed feelings for Maya Rajesh.
And as he sees Moody nod at him, giving him the signal to carry out the final stage of their plan, Draco wants to kick himself for having the misfortune to run into her all those months ago.
He doesn't know if he's ever going to be able to forgive himself for what he's about to do.
"Diana? A word?"
Maya snaps out of her almost slumber at the familiar voice, startling her friend awake. She rubs her eyes, stretching as she brings herself back into a sitting position, as her eyes flit to the person standing at the end of the aisle.
"Malfoy?" she questions, yawning, voice a bit confused due to her sleepiness, "What're you doing here?"
"I need to speak to my sister," he replies, curtly, refusing to look her in the eye. Maya frowns at his strange behavior; a part of her wonders why he's suddenly being so cold with her.
Then again, this is Draco Malfoy she's talking about. When has she ever been able to predict what he does?
"What d'you want to talk to me about at this hour?" questions Diana, grumpily; From experience, Maya knows that she's mostly not a morning person, "It's almost eleven at night!"
"It's about Father. . ." Draco says quietly, as Diana's face pales. Maya suddenly feels like she's intruding on something private.
"I'll take that as my cue to leave" she mutters, quietly, as not to alert the students around her, "I'm going to use the restroom"
"It's dark out. . "whispers Diana, worried, "Do you want me to come with you? I doubt it's safe for you to be out alone. ."
"It's fine," replies Maya, softly getting up as she slings her bag over her shoulder, "You, of all people, know I can defend myself, Di."
In her haste to leave, Maya misses the way Draco's eyes flash at her words.
"Still. . ." tries Diana, worried, but Maya cuts her off.
"Diana" she replies, softly, "Don't worry about me. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"
Diana looks unconvinced but still nods, reluctant agreement being one of her specialties
. Her brother, however, can't seem to take his eyes off of her. The look in them is odd, a hint of longing, restraint, and something that feels like desperation. She suddenly feels that strange pull again, a magnetic field that only seems to appear when she's around him. Her irises feel like they're glued to his, and the air around them shifts, Maya shifting her weight to her left foot as she tries to ignore the familiar fluttering in her lower abdomen. Her lips part, as if she wants to speak but can't find words. Completely breathless.
Maya feels like he's trying to tell her something, but can't grasp the mental energy to find out what it is.
Then Draco looks away, and the moment is suddenly broken.
Maya's suddenly aware that her heartbeat is much faster than it was before he decided to make an entrance. Diana gives her a knowing look, a hint of an amused smirk appearing at the corner of her lips.
" I —I'm just" starts Maya, embarrassed, "I'm gonna go now. . ."
As Maya turns away from them, she swears she can feel his eyes burning holes between her shoulder blades.
But by the time she's at the other end of the stadium and summons the courage to look back, he's already deep in conversation with Diana.
What has he done to her? Maya thinks to herself, swallowing the lump in her throat.
More importantly, what has she done to herself?
The balmy night air washes over her retreating figure, as Maya tries to find her way back to the stadium fifteen minutes later. Even with lumos', her sense of direction is questionable, and she has to constantly look back at the castle to make sure that she isn't accidentally walking into the forbidden forest. It's pitch-black around her, completely silent and Maya has to force herself not to yelp in fear every time she hears an animal scurry past her.
Somehow, it feels like she's just waiting for something to happen.
Don't think like that, Maya tells herself, sternly. Nothing's going to happen to her. She's halfway to the stadium; Only a couple more yards and her friends will be in sight. The dark isn't something to be afraid of. Not if you're aware of your surroundings and know what defense mechanisms to use. Granted, she's only had two years of training, relatively inexperienced compared to everyone else at the Institute, but Maya could still physically injure someone bad enough to buy her time to run.
"What're you doing all alone in the dark, Rajesh?"
Maya yelps in shock, almost dropping her wand as she turns around, pointing it directly in the face of her assailant.
"Get back!!" she practically screams, covering her face as he yanks her wand away from her, looking utterly horrified. Maya suddenly recognizes the gruff tone of voice, and peeks at the man from underneath her fingers. Her face flushes crimson as she realizes who the person is; grizzled hair, scarred face, fake electric-blue eye that glows eerily in the dark, it's none other than Alastor Moody, her odd, but still somewhat trustworthy DADA professor.
"Calm down!" he hisses, menacingly, making Maya shrink back, "I'm not going to hurt you!"
There's an awkward silence for a moment, in which they stare at each other, completely perplexed.
"F-fancy seeing you here, Professor" mutters Maya, still a little unnerved at being alone with him, "Aren't you supposed to be on patrol?"
Moody glares at her for questioning his authority before he chooses to answer.
"I'm on a break," he replies, shortly, still gazing down at her, "But you still haven't answered my question. What are you doing all the way out here?"
"I — I was using the restroom" Maya stammers. Something in her feels very, very uneasy at being in close quarters with him. She automatically tightens the strap of her bag on her shoulder, fingers clutching the elastic tightly. If she moved back just a little bit, Maya would be far enough to hit Moody with her satchel, buying her enough time to run back to the stadium.
“At this time?” he questions, raising an eyebrow, stepping closer to her.
“I needed a break” replies Maya, a guarded look on her face as she steps back, eager to put some distance between them, “Anyways, thank you for your concern, Professor, but my friends are probably worried about me. I should get back to the task”
She turns away, but Moody’s sudden grip on her wrist stops her. Alarm bells start to ring wildly in her head, and Maya tries to pull her wrist away from him, panic rising up like bile when he doesn’t let up.
“That won’t be necessary” growls Moody, in her ear, roughly pulling her back against his chest, “You’re coming with me, sweetheart”
Cold horror shoots through Maya at the implications of what could possibly come; out here, in the dark, practically nobody can see or hear them. If he’s going to do anything bad to her, now is the ideal time.
The adrenaline that shoots through her pushes Maya to bring her knee hard into his groin.
Moody groans loudly, grip loosening, and Maya is able to pry her wrist out of his bruising grip. She stumbles away, massaging her wrist. Maya hears him stumbling after her, and runs, breaking out into the fastest sprint she’s ever taken. Her breathing is heavy, erratic, and she runs directly past Hagrid’s cabin, straight into the woods beyond.
Which is probably the stupidest thing she could’ve done in her entire life.
It’s pitch black out here, and without her wand to light her way, Maya’s completely helpless in the thick underbrush. Good news: Moody probably can’t see where she is, because even with his magical eye, it would be impossible to figure out her location.
The flip side is that she won’t be able to see him coming.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are. . . .” Moody’s voice taunts, in an eerie, singsong tone that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, “Maaayaaa. . . . . .I won’t hurt you. . . . . .We’re just going to go meet someone very familiar. . . .”
Yeah, right, scoffs her mind, and she lets out a quiet snort, the sound revebrating in the air around her.
Fuck.
Maya covers her mouth to muffle it, but it’s too late; she can hear the sounds of his boots crunching the grass and leaves in their haste to get towards her. A twig snaps as she edges away, breathing heavy and erratic as she runs for her life.
Maya has absolutely no clue where she’s going, only a sliver of moonlight in the distance indicating that light lies at the end of tunnel. Her lungs burn from the sheer effort it takes to keep her running; Maya’s out of practice when it comes to sprinting, all of those months of sitting and studying at Hogwarts considerably bringing her endurance down. She gasps, sucking in cold, musty air that sticks to her skin unpleasantly.
A tree root is the first thing to make her falter, her foot catching and making her tumble down the floor, thrown around like a soccer ball during game season. Maya tries to keep her cries quiet, the sharp thorns and brambles creating painful scratches on her skin, earth sticking to her hair, matting it down. She hears a ripping sound and looks down; the black rayon covering her right thigh is torn open, a dark, sticky liquid seeping out from the wound.
She’s torn open her tights.
And they were the expensive ones too, a fifty-dollar pair of Lulu Lemon workout leggings that Isabelle gifted her for her birthday. Maya hisses, as she presses her fingers to examine the injury. It’s a long, relatively shallow cut but violently made, judging from how jagged it feels.
A twig snaps behind her.
Maya gasps, immediately shifting her weight onto her elbows. She leans back, trying to shift into a squatting position as to be able to stand up, but her injuries prove otherwise. A pained shriek is immediately choked down, at the way her body screams and protests at any sort of movement. She persists, leaning onto a nearby tree to try and support herself, her breath coming out in short pants.
But her movements are too sluggish to evade capture.
Something snake-like wraps around her wrists, binding them together behind her back; Maya realizes too late that it's magically-conjured rope. With a tug, she's being dragged backward, kicking and screaming as she struggles to escape. Her wand is gone, Maya realizes, too late, Moody took it when he was first interrogating her.
She's suddenly spun around and yanked to face her assailant; Moody's fake eye is wildly spinning around, expression furious in the dim light around them, as he grips her arms in an iron hold. Maya tries to kick him, but the action only sends her reeling backward, head almost coming in contact with the earth again as Moody pulls her up just in time, yanking her painfully by the hair as she tries to scream.
"Don't you fucking dare — " he spits, moving in close to her face, "Don't you dare open that mouth of yours. You think you're brave, don't you? Fighting back, leading me all the way into the forest, pulling your little Shadowhunter tricks to get me to leave you alone. In another world, you'd make a fine Auror. Too bad you're not going to live to take your N.E.W.Ts"
Maya stares at him, bewildered. She's utterly terrified right now; Diana was right, she never should've left the stadium in the first place. Now she's being held hostage by this madman, whom she suspects is someone else entirely.
"W-why are you doing this?" she whispers, horrified, "What have I ever done to you?"
Moody leers at her, giving her trembling frame a brief-once over that makes Maya go rigid with fear and revulsion.
"No. . ." she whispers, pleading with him, "Please. . . .I'm begging you. . . .don't. . ."
"Oh, I'm not going to touch you, " jeers Moody, as Maya struggles, tears forming in her eyes out of exhaustion, "I'd rather die than soil myself with filth like you. But you're never going to forget this night. As long as you live, it'll be etched into your memory, a reminder of who you truly are. He will see to that"
His wand suddenly presses into her neck, and Maya's world plunges into complete darkness.
"Where the hell did she go? It's been over an hour!"
Diana sighs, as her brother rolls his eyes. Maya's been gone for a suspicious amount of time, much longer than it would take a normal person to walk back from the bathroom. The castle isn't even that far from the stadium, just a decent walk away.
"She's probably sidetracked, " mutters Draco, not meeting her eyes, "At the library or something"
"The library's closed, dumbass" retorts Diana, sharply, her irritation forming into worry, "Y-you don't think something's happened to her?"
Draco refuses to look at her, mouth set in a thin line. Diana is confused at first, but cold horror washes over her as she realizes something.
No.
No, he couldn't have. Draco would have never gone through with it. Come what may, Diana grew up with him. They're brother and sister, an unbreakable unit against the sallow, cruel faces of their parents. She knows him like the back of her hand. She's seen the way he looks at Maya. The Draco she knows wouldn't have given her over to them.
But the Draco that's staring back at her looks like a completely different person.
"No. ." Diana whispers, shock washing over her, freezing all of her senses, "Draco, please tell me it wasn't you. . . ."
He doesn't answer her, looking up at the sky. Diana can see the fear hidden beneath the indifferent exterior, the way he swallows the lump in his throat, a telltale muscle in his jaw twitching at her words.
"Draco, what did you do?" Diana shrieks, not noticing the way people's heads turn in her direction. Draco pales, noticing the attention that's directed towards them. A few people are whispering, shooting Diana and him nasty looks, as if they're walking garbage. He takes her by the wrist, walking towards a secluded part of the stadium as she stumbles behind him, ignoring her questioning, fearful words.
"Keep your voice down" Draco hisses, as soon as they reach a decent spot. Diana glares at him, so disapprovingly that her brother actually falters and looks at her with wide eyes.
"Answer my question, " she snaps, taking Draco by surprise at her stern choice of words, "What the hell did you do?"
"I-" tries Draco, but Diana clearly sees the panic and regret in his features, "I didn't have a choice. You knew that from the beginning."
"You always have a fucking choice!," Diana shrieks, livid. Horror courses through her at what could've happened to Maya, "How could you, Draco?! I feel like I don't know you at all — "
Draco's face falls, and he sucks in a breath at her words, obviously hurting him. She knows how he feels, but plows on, wanting Draco to realize the gravity of the situation he's gotten them all into.
"This isn't just some task!" Diana snarls, sounding nothing like her usual self, "Do you even know what you've done, huh? This is her life you're playing with!!"
"Father would've killed me!" Draco shouts, uncharacteristically loud, making Diana jump backward, " He would've killed us!! Do you think I'd let him hurt you because I was too scared to grow some —"
"Don't try to guilt me into agreeing with you" Diana hisses, stepping closer to him, practically shaking with how intense her emotions are, "What you did was horrible. If something happens to her — Draco, if she dies, it's on you!!"
His mask falls away; Diana sees the horrified realization on his face, the way Draco's eyes suddenly become very clear, lips trembling and mouth falling open as the reality and guilt of his situation fits into place. He swallows, looking so small as if he's caving into himself. Diana has never seen this much emotion on her brother's face, the sheer amount of vulnerability in his expression making her stop and stare.
In the fifteen years that she's known him, Diana has never, ever seen that expression on his face.
"You have feelings for her, don't you?" blurts out Diana, suddenly, startling her brother, "I see the way you gaze at Maya; when you think I'm not paying attention. Like you're in awe of her, trying to figure out what happens inside her head, but just can't quite grasp how. I've never seen that expression on your face when you look at Pansy,"
Draco sighs, putting his head in his hands.
"Even if I did," he replies, slowly, "It wouldn't matter. Not to them., "
Diana resists the urge to snap at her brother, knowing that there's no negotiating with him on this subject.
"Well, it matters to me, " replies Diana, softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, "And I think you should do something about it"
"I can't" states Draco, bluntly, "I made a choice. And now, I have to face the consequences. Even if it means I won't get what I want in the end"
There's cold stone behind her head when she finally stirs.
Maya groans, feeling gravel scrape against her skin as she stirs awake, hissing at the pins-and-needles pain that overtakes her body. Her vision is completely unfocused, head pounding, only able to see the faint colors and rough shapes of her surroundings. She wheezes, struggling to breathe, her chest feeling incredibly constricted, as if something is wrapped around it. Maya forces herself to look down, ignoring the way the word violently spins around her.
Her heart stops as she sees the glowing ropes wrapped tightly around her chest and torso, binding her to the rock effectively.
No.
No.
"Well, well" comes a drawling, oily voice from her right, "Look who's finally awake,"
The world stops spinning around her, Maya's vision focusing as she realizes where she is. They've left the Hogwarts grounds completely; obviously traveling miles — perhaps hundreds of miles — for even the mountains surrounding the castle are gone. She's trapped, instead, in a dark and overgrown graveyard; the black outline of a small church is visible beyond a large yew tree to her right. A hill rises above her to their left. Maya can just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you, girl" spits the voice, and Maya's chin is suddenly shoved to face her captor. Her heart stops at the harsh metal mask that covers his face — she's judging him to be a man by his tone of voice — the very same one that decorated the faces of the death eaters at the Quidditch World Cup. Her heart beats violently in her chest, all senses suddenly alert, the air around her no longer hazy and unclear.
They've done it. They've actually done it, kidnapping her from Hogwarts and into this eerie, shady-looking graveyard. Maya has no clue what's going to happen to her, only terrified anticipation coursing through her at the thought of what could
"W-what do you want from me?" Maya stutters, beyond terrified at her situation. The Death Eater chuckles, gloved finger lazily tracing the curve of her jaw. Maya shrinks back as much as she can, revulsion coursing through her at the mere thought of being touched.
"Naive, little warlock, " taunts another Death Eater, stepping out from behind the stone — this one is female, Maya judges that from the tone of her voice, "Your pathetic mother never told you anything, did she? I suspect she was just trying to protect you, but in the end, all it did was make it so much easier to lure you here,"
"Don't — " tries Maya, exhausted, gritting her teeth, "Don't talk about her — "
"Ohoho!" jeers another voice, from behind her, "This one's got a mouth on her! Feisty, eh? I'd keep her for myself if the Dark Lord didn't need her —"
"I asked you a question!!" snarls Maya, anger overtaking her fear. She immediately realizes that it's the wrong move; Deadly silence descends over the Death Eaters, some muttering filthy sentiments under their breath that fill the slowly dripping pool of disgust in her abdomen. The female Death Eater is the first one to react, but she doesn't say anything back.
She raises her wand, and coldly states, "Crucio"
The pain is instant; Maya emits a blood-curling scream, head smacking against the stone behind her as her body thrashes in the confines of the ropes. It's as if ten thousand knives are tearing through her skin at once, the white-hot pain blinding in it's intensity, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her nerve endings are painstakingly being carved away, every cell and atom in her body trying to flee from the poison that's being used to attack her.
Maya doesn't realize that she's crying until she feels cool wetness running down her cheeks, pooling in the crevice between her jaw and her neck.
"That's enough, Alecto, " a rough, cold voice states; Maya recognizes it as Lucius Malfoy's, identical to the one she heard at the Quidditch world cup, "He wants her in one piece for the ritual"
After what feels like an eternity, the pain finally stops.
Maya's sobs echo throughout the graveyard, her body trembling from the intensity of the curse, muscles jumping and twitching violently beneath her skin. Her vision swims around her, every nerve in her body feeling electrocuted, burnt to ashes.
"Please. . ." she begs, sobbing, "Please. . . .just let me go home. . I promise, I won't say anything. . ."
Several of the Death Eaters snort derisively; one even doubles over in laughter.
"Oh, you will be going home, " states Lucius Malfoy, voice bearing a hint of mirth, cane digging into the scattered earth of the graveyard, "But it's not the place you grew up in. ."
Maya suddenly hears a scream from the entrance of the graveyard; She turns her head despite being bound, pleading that the person will notice the dire situation she's gotten herself into. There are three blurry people standing amid the far away headstones; A hooded figure that looks to be carrying something in its arms, a tall boy wearing eerily familiar yellow robes, and another boy, screaming, robes red, on his hands and knees on the ground.
Maya suddenly recognizes the voice; the very same one of her friend, who disappeared into the maze two hours ago. Her blood runs cold.
It's Harry Potter himself.
And that boy standing next to him, the Hufflepuff, that has to be Cedric.
Suddenly, a high, cold voice booms through the graveyard, so powerful that it creates a cold wind, brushing through Maya's wounds and making them sting.
"Kill the spare"
A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeches the words to the night: “Avada Kedavra!”
A blast of green light blazes past Maya’s eyelids, and it hits Cedric directly in the chest; She chokes, as his now-lifeless body falls to the ground, spread-eagled on the deadened grass beneath them.
He was just murdered.
Cedric Diggory's life has been erased within a matter of seconds.
Her mind flits back to that day where she was unfortunate enough to bump into him in the halls, the way he extended a hand to help her, friendly, jovial voice cheering her up before helpfully pointing her in the right direction, towards the Divination classroom.
But Maya doesn't have time to process Cedric's demise; The short man in the cloak has put down his bundle, lit his wand, and is dragging Harry towards the marble headstone across from her. Maya sees the name upon it, flickering in the wandlight — "TOM RIDDLE"
"Maya?!" sputters Harry, bewildered as soon as he catches sight of her, "Oh my — Merlin's beard, how on earth have you ended up here?"
Maya simply shakes her head at him, tears streaming down her face, voice too weak from the Cruciatus to respond.
The cloaked man now conjures tight cords around Harry, tying him from neck to ankles to the headstone. Maya can hear shallow, fast breathing from the depths of the hood; Harry struggles, and the man hits him. A look of horrified realization comes over his face.
“You!” he gasps.
But the man, who has finished conjuring the ropes, does not reply; he's busy checking the tightness of the cords, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, fumbling over the knots. Once sure that Harry;s bound so tightly to the headstone that he can’t move an inch, Wormtail draws a length of some black material from the inside of his cloak and stuffs it roughly into Harry’s mouth; then, without a word, he turns from Harry and hurries away.
Cedric’s body lies some twenty feet away. Some way beyond him, glinting in the starlight, lies the Triwizard Cup; Maya realizes this with a bit of pride. Harry’s wand is on the ground at Cedric’s feet. The bundle of robes that Maya thought was a baby is close by, at the foot of the grave. It seems to be stirring fretfully. Maya watches it, and an odd shiver goes down her spine . . . and she suddenly knows that she doesn’t want to see what's in those robes . . . she doesn’t want that bundle opened. . . .
Maya can see a large, pipe-like mass moving in the grass at Harry's feet; It's too dark to make out what it actually is. The man’s fast, wheezy breathing is growing louder again. It sounds as though he's forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he comes back within Maya’s range of vision, and she sees him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It's full of what seems to be water — Maya can hear it slopping around — and it's larger than any cauldron Maya has ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit in.
The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground is stirring more persistently, as though it's trying to free itself. Now Wormtail is busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly there are crackling flames beneath it. The liquid in the cauldron seems to heat very fast. The surface begins not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it's on fire. Steam is thickening, blurring the outline of the man tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes become more agitated. And Maya hears the high, cold voice again.
“Hurry, Wormtail!”
The whole surface of the water is alight with sparks now. It may be encrusted with diamonds.
“It is ready, Master.”
“Now . . .” says the cold voice.
Wormtail pulls open the robes on the ground, revealing what's inside them, and Maya lets out a horrifying sound somewhere between a gasp and a shriek.
It's as though he's flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind — but worse, a hundred times worse. The thing Wormtail has been carrying has the shape of a crouched human child, except that Maya has never seen anything less like a child. It's hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs are thin and feeble, and its face — no child alive ever has a face like that — flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.
The thing seems almost helpless; it raises its thin arms, puts them around Wormtail’s neck, and Wormtail lifts it. As he does so, his hood falls back, and Maya sees the look of revulsion on Wormtail’s weak, pale face in the firelight as he carries the creature to the rim of the cauldron. For one moment, Maya sees the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. And then Wormtail lowers the creature into the cauldron; there's a hiss, and it vanishes below the surface; Maya hears its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.
Let it drown, Maya thinks, as blood drips thickly from where her tights have been torn open, Please . . . let it drown. . . .
Wormtail is speaking. His voice shakes; he seems frightened beyond his wits. He raises his wand, closes his eyes, and speaks to the night,
“Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!”
The surface of the grave at Harry’s feet cracks. Horrified, Maya watches as a fine trickle of dust rises into the air at Wormtail’s command and falls softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water breaks and hisses; it sends sparks in all directions and turns a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.
And now Wormtail is whimpering. He pulls a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice breaks into petrified sobs.
“Flesh — of the servant — w-willingly given — you will — revive — your master.”
He stretches his right hand out in front of him — the hand with the missing finger. He grips the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swings it upward.
Maya realizes what Wormtail's about to do a second before it happens — she closes her eyes as tightly as she can, but it cannot block the scream that pierces the night, that goes through Maya as though she has been stabbed with the dagger too. She hears something fall to the ground, hears Wormtail’s anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something is dropped into the cauldron. Maya can’t stand to look . . . but the potion has turned a burning red; the light of it shines through her closed eyelids. . . .
Wormtail gasps and moans with agony. Maya keeps her eyes screwed shut, not wanting to see what ensues.
She hears him stumble over to Harry; A pained yell and a slicing sound echoes through the dark night, then he practically runs over to the cauldron, pouring something inside. She peeks at the gruesome scene through her eyelids, ready to shut them back any second.
The cauldron is simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turns all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happens. . . .
Let it have drowned, Maya thinks, desperately, let it have gone wrong. . . .
And then, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron are extinguished. A surge of white steam billows thickly from the cauldron instead, obliterating everything in front of Maya, so that she can’t see Wormtail, Harry or Cedric or anything but vapor hanging in the air. . . .
But then, through the mist in front of her, Maya sees, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.
“Robe me,” says the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Wormtail, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambles to pick up the black robes from the ground, gets to his feet, reaches up, and pulls them one-handed over his master’s head.
The thin man steps out of the cauldron, and Maya stares into the face that killed Harry's parents thirteen years ago. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that's flat as a snake’s with slits for nostrils . . .
Lord Voldemort has risen again.
Voldemort looks away from Harry and begins examining his own body, as Maya watches, paralyzed with sheer horror. His hands are like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caress his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils are slits, like a cat’s, gleam, still more brightly through the darkness. He holds up his hands and flexes the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He takes not the slightest notice of Wormtail, who lies twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which has slithered back into sight and circles Harry again, hissing. Voldemort slips one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and draws out a wand. He caresses it gently too; and then he raises it, and points it at Wormtail, who is lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry is tied; he falls to the foot of it and lies there, crumpled up and crying. Voldemort turns his scarlet eyes upon Harry, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.
Wormtail’s robes are shining with blood now; he has wrapped the stump of his arm in them.
“My Lord . . .” he chokes, “my Lord . . . you promised . . . you did promise . . .”
“Hold out your arm,” says Voldemort lazily.
“Oh Master . . . thank you, Master . . .”
He extends the bleeding stump, but Voldemort laughs again.
“The other arm, Wormtail.”
“Master, please . . . please . . .”
Voldemort bends down and pulls out Wormtail’s left arm; he forces the sleeve of Wormtail’s robes up past his elbow, and Maya sees something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo — a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth — the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup: the Dark Mark. Voldemort examines it carefully, ignoring Wormtail’s uncontrollable weeping.
“It is back,” he says softly, “they will all have noticed it . . . and now, we shall see . . . now we shall know . . .”
He presses his long white forefinger to the brand on Wormtail’s arm.
Harry yells in pain, head smacking back against the headstone, and Wormtail lets out a fresh howl; Voldemort removes his fingers from Wormtail’s mark, and Maya sees that it has turned jet black.
With a look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Voldemort straightens up, throws back his head, and stares around at the dark graveyard.
“How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?” he whispers, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. “And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?”
He begins to pace up and down before Harry and Wormtail, eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while; Maya jolts as they brush over her. After a minute or so, he looks down at Harry again, a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.
“You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father,” he hisses softly. “A Muggle and a fool . . . very like your dear mother. But they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child . . . and I killed my father, and see how useful he has proved himself, in death. . . .”
Maya's blood runs cold as he turns to her, almost gliding towards her bound frame as he walks over to her, eerily calm.
"And you, Maya Rajesh. . ." he purrs, long nail brushing against her exposed collarbone just hard enough to sting, "You were incredibly elusive. . . .we barely managed to track you down in time. . . .thanks to your traitor of a mother. Incredibly wily woman. . .so to speak. . .would have made a fine Slytherin back in my day . . . though her efforts amounted to nothing in the end. So much untapped power . . . it's a shame your father wants you under his control. . . .otherwise you'd have been recruited into the ranks of the death eaters, "
"M-my father?" Maya stutters, despite her sheer horror at being unlucky enough to be graced with the presence of this dark wizard.
Voldemort's lips curve into a thin, brittle smirk at her apparent confusion.
"Can this be?. . ." he muses, circling her, "The most powerful warlock at Hogwarts doesn't even know who her father is. . . .I suppose your mother hid that part of yourself particularly well. . . .very well, you'll find out soon anyway. . "
"W—What do you mean?" Maya questions, curiosity overtaking her fear.
This is the closest she's ever been to knowing her true parentage, who in particular took advantage of her mother on that dreary March night. Maya's heart thumps loudly in her chest, blood pounding in her ears, drowning out everything else except the sound of Voldemort's voice reverberating in her ears.
Voldemort smiles, a cold, chilling smile, with no trace of previous mirth on his inhuman, snake-like face.
"You're going to Hell itself, my dear"
Maya's world suddenly stops spinning.
The breath is knocked from her lungs, as if she's suddenly fallen from a great height.
Hell. . . .
A raging inferno of a place, home dimension of all Greater demons. The upper-class of the demonic, with human-level intelligence, personalities and names. The highest-ranked of their ilk are angels who have been cast out of heaven, due to siding with Lucifer when he waged his war against God. After being thrown into Hell and The Void, they took on monstrous corporeal forms, some of the more powerful angels becoming Princes Of Hell, or the Fati, ruling over some of the hell dimensions.
There are nine (known) in total; Asmodeus - ruler of Edom, along with Lilith [ and unluckily, Magnus's father ] , Astaroth, Azazel, lieutenant of Hell and forger of weapons, Belphegor, prince of sloth, tricksters and charletons, Leviathan, the demon of envy and chaos, Lucifer, alternately known as 'The Devil', ruler of Hell and Demons, Mammon, the prince of greed and wealth, and Sammael, the first prince to let demons into the world.
As Maya, panicked, runs over this information in her head, her conscience tells her that she's forgetting someone, someone quite important.
"W-why Hell?" she finally manages, to stutter out.
In those few seconds, as Voldemort's grin grows wider, and Maya's insides writhe in terror, she knows that something very, very bad is about to happen.
"Because Belial wants his daughter back, " he replies, cooly examining the veins that run over his knuckles, "And he's promised to pay me a hefty sum of wraith demons if I deliver you in one piece"
Maya's heart stops.
Belial. . . .
Belial. . .
By the fucking Angel.
Belial, the prince of necromancers and warlocks, the greatest of Eidolon demons. The thief of realms, stealing that of his brother Belphegor's after wounding him. The manipulative father of Tessa Gray, convincing James Herondale to come to his realm by possessing the body of Ariadne Bridgestock. The one that she still fears to this date, the clockwork angel pendant hanging around her neck a reminder of him. The very demon she thought had been vanquished centuries ago.
He is her father.
And Maya is certain she has never been this shocked in her life. Even including the events that led up to this very moment.
Belial.
They were all right; Maya is nothing but demon spawn, a product of nephilim and demonic blood.
An abomination that never should have existed in the first place.
"Take her to the field"
The realization slows her down; Maya realizes, too late, that the ropes around her have vanished, but before she can defend herself, two death eaters are hoisting her off of the gravestone, as she kicks and thrashes in their grip.
"No!!" screams Harry, still tied to the headstone, "Maya!! Don't you dare touch —"
The sounds of his yells die out as they drag her away from the graveyard, using an unidentifiable spell to make her body willing and pliable. Maya is frozen with shock, barely registering where they're taking her. There's a ringing sound deep in her ears, blood pounding inside her head and numbing the world around her into nothingness. It's identical to the erratic beat of her heart, which pounds against her ribcage with such fervor that Maya's surprised that it doesn't tear itself out of her chest and tumble onto the dry earth beneath her, a bloody mass on the floor.
Kill her. Kill her now and do it quickly, for Maya doesn't know how to even exist after unraveling the truth about her demonic heritage, one that has been kept from her for so, so long.
The moment she finally comes back down to earth is when she feels the magical rope around her wrists, binding them together behind her back. The female death eater grips Maya tightly, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her around. She then roughly pushes her down, Maya's knees hitting the earthen floor of the — field? meadow? Maya can't really tell where they are in the darkness, but the telltale scent of dew tells her it's somewhere grassy.
Something immobilizes her to the ground; Suddenly, Maya is completely unable to move her lower body. The female death eater resolutely stands behind her, holding her down by the shoulders. An exhausted fog settles over Maya; her brain feels fuzzy, almost sleepy from all the emotional and physical turmoil that she's been put through thus far. Her breaths become more strained, and if she wasn't in constant pain from her injuries, Maya is sure that she'd definitely be passed out by now.
The male death eater opens an old, dusty-looking book, the sigil on the front of it glowing in the dim moonlight. Maya's heart thumps in horror, recognizing it as the "Cecidit Maledictionibus Firmamenti" or in English, "The Curses Of The Fallen". As it's name suggests, it's an old Latin spellbook specializing in dark, dark magic, necromancy to be specific.
It also has banned rituals, that no self-respecting warlock would ever attempt. Rituals, that if performed to the letter, could subsequently raise greater demons.
Oh fuck.
They're going to try to summon Belial.
And she'll be given over as the sacrifice.
Maya immediately struggles within her bonds, wrists twisting and writhing against each other. The woman standing behind her notices, and abruptly fists her hand roughly around Maya's neck, squeezing tightly as the younger girl chokes, gasping as air to her lungs is suddenly denied.
"Try that again," hisses the older female, leaning down to whisper in Maya's ear, "And I'll crush your windpipe before you can scream,"
She lets go, hands still tightly placed on her shoulders, as Maya shakes, sucking in deep mouthfuls of air.
The air suddenly starts to crackle with demonic energy, and it takes a little too long for Maya to realize that the death eaters are now chanting. The heavy, powerful magic washes over her in thick, dark rivulets, as if she's being coated in pungent, sticky tar. Maya suddenly feels very sick to her stomach, as the death eaters chant in Latin around her, a tugging sensation at her heart constricting her chest.
This is it, Maya thinks to herself, scared, This is the end of everything. This is how I'm going to die. Alone, bleeding, and about to be cast into hell.
If she hadn't chosen to leave New York, the safe (somewhat), familiar city, with it's foggy temperatures, yeasty bagels, and skyscrapers that seem to be present no matter where you go, If she had listened to Nandini and kept her head down, if she hadn't put herself out there, none of this would have happened. Maya would be attending Alec's high school graduation, her, Isabelle and Jace cheering and whooping as he climbs the stage to get his diploma. Their families would have gone out for drinks and dinner afterward, most probably at Le Bernadin, the four of them sneaking onto the rooftop with Isabelle carrying a bottle of Champagne, toasting to celebrate this new milestone in Alec's life. Then quietly slinking back downstairs, hoping that their parents don't notice the flush in their cheeks and the lightness in their laughter.
As a gentle breeze ruffles her hair, Maya is suddenly struck with the realization that she could never be able to see any of them again.
Mom, Magnus, Tessa, Mina, Isabelle, Alec, Jace, Diana, Harry, Ron, Hermione. . . .even Church. . . .none of them would ever be in her life again. Their faces come to the forefront of her mind, pain and anguish twisting through her at the thought of losing them.
A small flare of hope ignites within her, and Maya's insides suddenly fill with cold determination.
She will do anything in her power to get out of here alive. For her family. For her friends. For her cat. And most importantly, for herself. Because as much as she jokes about death and suffering, Maya knows that she's much too young to fall under their ichor-colored fate.
She just needs to play her cards right.
The death eaters point their wands at the ground, looking at each other for confirmation before casting the final enchantment.
In unison, dark red strings of light escape their wands, eerily glowing in the pitch-blackness around them. They immediately weave together, hissing and crackling. The magic then extends to the ground, the smell of something burning reaching Maya's noses as she coughs, trying to distance herself from the acrid smell. It weaves itself into a glowing circle, then shapes lines going across, until the final shape that is left is a sinister, depraved-looking demonic pentagram.
"Now, for the final part," announces one of the death eaters, nodding at the woman behind her, "Verity, it's time"
Verity's hand immediately goes to Maya's jaw; she sharply drags her head back, exposing the tender flesh of her throat and neck. Maya fumbles in this position, horror spiking in her veins as she feels cool, sharp metal press against her pulse point.
There's a moment in which none of them dare to breathe.
Without warning, Verity slashes the knife across Maya's pulse point, hitting her collarbone and barely missing her jugular in the process. Maya screams, a dry sob escaping her throat at the blinding pain in the junction of her neck and shoulder. She can feel the thick, dark blood staining her skin, dripping from the area alarmingly fast. Maya squirms and hisses in pain as Verity catches the blood in a tiny vial of glass, the death eater yanking her hair as a warning to stay still. She doesn't bother to clean Maya up or heal her; instead, she pours the vial into the center of the pentagram.
Nothing happens for a few seconds, Maya hoping that somehow, they've missed a step, that the ritual has gone wrong.
Maybe if it has, their confusion will buy her enough time to escape.
But a few seconds later, the blood ripples, spreading outward as it coats the lines of the pentagram, whose dim glow suddenly becomes ten times brighter. Suddenly, a powerful wave of magic rips itself from the pentagram, throwing Maya and the rest of them back. It ripples through the air gradually, the raw power that it holds making a shudder run down Maya's spine, her eyes hurting to even look at it. The female Death Eater standing behind her is knocked to the ground, suddenly giving her time to loosen the ropes.
Maya groans, masking the sound of her magic. Eyes squinted due to the bright lights around her, she remembers the spell Magnus taught her to vanish the glowing ropes, as a precaution, in case she ever managed to find herself tied up. The bounds disappear, Maya's spread-eagled body covering her hands, which are now free.
Thank Raziel, Maya thinks to herself, some of her anxiety disappearing.
She keeps her wrists in the same position, her instincts telling her that she'll get caught if she tries to run now. Maya slowly gets back to her knees, in the same position that she was kneeling in before. Thankfully, Verity is too distracted with something in front of her to notice that Maya's untied herself, hands back on her shoulders. Maya frowns, still studying the grass as she thinks. What's got her so distracted that she hasn't noticed the fact that Maya's about to es—
Maya looks up, and forgets how to breathe.
Standing in front of her — hovering, is probably more accurate, is a man. He's almost transparent — Maya can see the two male death eaters standing behind him, but his demonic presence is unmistakable. Long, blond hair falls to his shoulders in loose waves, features haughty, almost aristocratic with how delicately carved they seem. Coldness radiates from him in deadly waves, and if he was human, Maya would probably walk to the other side of the street just to get away from him. He's incredibly tall — inhumanly, in fact — and looks at her with an expression that makes her insides writhe in fear. But it's not the look in his eyes that terrifies her, it's his eyes themselves. Dark blue, with silver flecks that glimmer in the dim light around them, they are identical to hers.
Which makes one thing very clear.
Belial has risen again.
"You've finally come, my child" he proclaims, a chilling smirk slowly painting itself across his face. Maya swallows her words in fear, practically shaking at being in the presence of a demon.
"All thanks to the Malfoy boy's work sir" replies one of the male death eaters, proudly, "Him and Moody managed to lure her away from the task, and from then on, it was child's play to get her here,"
Maya's heart shrivels at his words.
No.
No, no, she trusted him. Maya told him things that she'd never dare reveal to anyone else; she even cried in front of him. He comforted her ( albeit sarcastically, but still ), he listened to her.
She thought he felt the same way.
"Pity," replies Belial, tutting as he sees the blood coating her clothes, "I thought Nandini would have trained her better. . . . . . .but we can't have it all, can we?"
But as the horrible truth sinks in, that he was using her all along, Maya realizes that she never knew Draco Malfoy in the first place.
Everything between them was a lie.
"W — why did you do all this? " Maya stutters, forcing herself to look him in the eye, "Why do you want me in hell with you?"
Belial chuckles, throwing his head back.
"Maya, Maya. . . ." he sighs, finally, looking down at her with amusement, "I see your mother completely kept you in the dark. You didn't even know that I was your father until now, did you?"
Maya timidly nods, feeling that disagreeing will end in unpleasant consequences for her.
"Very well, " he sighs, hand reaching down to stroke her cheek; Maya flinches away, his touch feeling cold and foreign on her cheek, "I should at least explain to you the real reason you're here."
"When Raziel banished my brothers and I from heaven, he gave me, in particular, a punishment, " continues Belial, almost lazily, examining his fingers, "The bastard cursed me to never be able to walk on the Earth in my own form." — his eyes flash dangerously at this — "A cruel trick, really, since I, out of all of them, loved humans the most. They fascinate me, those mortal creatures, with their little traditions, holidays, cluelessness to the world that lies beyond the mundane aspects of their lives. Must be why your mother intrigued me so much, a beautiful young Shadowhunter, alone, defenseless — "
Maya's teeth clench at the way he's describing her mother. Belial smirks at her fury, before carrying on with his speech.
"I tried, for years, to be able to regain my powers. The only time I can ever appear on earth is through illusions, or by possessing those of my own blood, which results in the destruction of that body in the hours that follow. The first option is practically useless, " — he says this with something that sounds like grumpiness, "Since I can't accomplish anything if I'm little more than a poltergeist. When Tessa came along, I thought I finally had a way to accomplish my deepest desire. But alas, Axel Mortmain wanted to use her for his own purposes, and gave her the clockwork angel pendant, thereby protecting her from my influences. Then came a second chance, with her son, James — you must have heard of him, " — he adds, all too casually — , "But he managed to evade capture as well, severely wounding me with the Cortana and escaping with Cordelia Carstairs. It took me over a century to regain my strength, and this time, I was desperate. I possessed the body of an unsuspecting mortal in London, after being informed of the existence of an unmarked Indian Shadowhunter by one of my brothers. She gave me exactly what I needed, a third, and final attempt to restore my ability to walk in the human world. Nandini fell for my influences, and within three drinks, I managed to convince her to consort with me. Then, a few weeks later, you came along. I waited and watched for fourteen years, hoping for the day she would let you out of her sight. And here you are, waiting, ready, the final aspect of my plan., "
Maya is numb with shock, as he gazes down at her, now knowing how to process all of this information. Oddly, she doesn't feel the paralyzing fear that plagued her just moments ago. There's a cold, painful feeling in her heart, as if it's slowly freezing from the inside out.
"If you think" she hisses up at him, furious, "That I would ever let you use me as an instrument for your depraved causes, then you are sorely mistaken.,"
"Oh, sweetheart, " Belial taunts, patronizing, "You're acting like you have a choice. You see, once this pentagram beneath me falls away, the portal to hell will finally reopen. And you'll have no option than to follow me down. Because if you don't - " — he adds, threateningly — "I will personally make it my duty to turn your life into nothing but shambles. Everything you know will be gone. And you'll have no choice but to come crawling back to me, your family and friends dead, and the world around you burning. It's up to you to lessen the collateral damage,"
Belial suddenly disappears as he finishes these words, the ghost of him still lingering in the air.
Maya is paralyzed, completely numb to all feelings except the dull pounding in her chest, reminding her of the fact that she still is, unfortunately, alive.
She feels like her entire life has been a lie.
The ground beneath her begins to shake, the pentagram eerily glowing once more, before sinking out of sight, deep into the ground. It leaves a hole behind, a pit, in fact. A low, disturbing growl resonates from beneath it, and even from in her position away from it, Maya can feel the scorching heat emanating from the cavernous depths of Hell.
Is this her fate? To be used as a mere vessel to satisfy a demon's thirst for blood, then disposed of afterward? Is this what she was born to do?
"Maya!!"
She snaps out of her trance at the familiar voice to her left. Harry is running towards her, wand pointed in his hand. Maya suddenly remembers that her wrists are untied, wriggling them behind her back.
Her time is now.
"Stupefy!!" Maya screams, warlock magic pouring from her fingertips as she stuns the death eater behind her, jumping to her feet. The adrenaline hits her in full force, the raw power in her veins almost making her lose her balance, tumbling into the pit behind her.
"Get her!!" screams one of the male death eaters, running after her as Maya bolts, fleeing for her life. Her stride is awkward, shaky at first, but she soons picks up pace, managing to dodge the curses that the two men send behind her. Maya's lungs burn from the sudden exertion, but she doesn't falter, two years of Shadowhunter training finally kicking in.
Harry grabs her hand, and they run for their lives.
Maya barely remembers how they managed to get back to the castle.
Her brain is too shocked to comprehend anything, numb with shock, horror and so many other emotions that she can't describe. Harry told her to go to the hospital wing as soon as they got out of the maze, noticing her limp and the blood that still steadily drips from her neck. Cedric's lifeless corpse was clutched in his hand, for what reasons Maya cannot comprehend, but she suspects that it's something to do with what happened after they took her away from the graveyard.
"Bloody hell. . . ."
Maya gasps, turning around at the familiar voice behind her.
Her blood runs cold when she realizes who it is.
Draco Malfoy stares at her with pure, unadulterated horror, eyes skimming over her battered frame with fear. Her gut twists violently at the sight of him, and she immediately backs away, shrinking as he edges closer to her.
"Maya. . . ." he tries, warily, hands raised up in surrender.
"Get away from me. . ." she whispers, horrified, looking at him with betrayal etched all over her face. Her heart twists at the hurt expression on his face, as he slowly realizes what she's found out.
"Maya, listen to me, it's not what you think — "
"You used me!!" Maya screams, tears pouring down her face, not caring if the teachers come running down the corridor, "I trusted you and you sold me out! — "
"Let me explain — " Draco tries, but she's too furious to listen.
"It was all a ruse, wasn't it?" Maya questions, laughing bitterly, "The agreement, healing me, dancing with me, your curiosity . . . for a minute, you really had me there, Malfoy — "
"Please — "
"Shut up!" Maya shrieks, pushing him harshly backward; Draco stumbles, almost losing his footing, as her heart pangs in her chest, feeling like it'll explode from pain, "You — you traitor!! How could you? You knew what you were doing was wrong, but you did it anyway. I thought you were different from the rest of your house, that maybe, what Harry, Ron, and Hermione said about you wasn't all true. But really, you're exactly how they described you. A lying, cheating snake, with no remorse for your actions,"
He stares at her for a few moments, disbelief and pain etched all over his features. She sees the tears forming his eyes, but her anger refuses to acknowledge them.
"Maya — " he tries, voice cracking, one final time.
"No. . ." Maya chokes out, shaking her head, tears spilling down her face, "Don't. I never want anything from you ever again,"
She makes it to the entrance of the hospital wing before her world goes black.
i hate the writing but goddamn was this emotionally traumatizing to write.
Chapter Text
𝕵𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
MAYA'S FIRST VIVID MEMORY IS from when she was about four years old.
The three of them stand in the kitchen together, looking through an old, dusty cookbook that looks as though it hasn't seen the light of day in years. Nandini glares at Arjun, who glares back with equal ferocity. Both of them have flour splattered all over their aprons, some of the white mixture landing in Arjun's hair and Nandini's cheek. Three-year-old Maya watches the scene with interest, popping a sweet blueberry into her mouth, as she swings her legs off the counter.
"The recipe says that we need to use dried wild blueberries," argues Nandini, pointing to a particular line in the book.
"But jaan, this cookbook was written in India!," protests Arjun, sounding like a petulant child, "We have fresh blueberries here! Why not use them for the muffins instead?"
"Because it's not in the recipe!"
"Screw the recipe!"
"Language!" replies Nandini, immediately covering the ears of her daughter, who just looks at the both of them, confused, taking another handful of blueberries when her mother isn't looking "I don't want our daughter to pick up any profane means of speech"
"Oh, I bet she already knows more than most her age, " replies Arjun, rolling his eyes, "Considering your tendency to get worked up in the middle of traffic. What was the name you called that poor fellow on the moped? Son of a bloody c-"
"Arjun!!" growls Nandini, eyes flashing in a warning.
That gesture would have intimidated him a few years ago, but after thirty-one months of marriage, Arjun isn't intimidated by his wife in the least, even though they're practically the same height. He just smiles, raising his hands up in surrender.
"Okay, okay!!, " he replies, trying to diffuse the tension in the room, as Nandini glares at him once more, "I'll stop. And we can use the dried blueberries instead. Just promise you'll stop looking at me like you want to kill me,"
Nandini huffs, still mad, turning away and muttering something under her breath. Arjun sighs, wrapping an arm around his wife's slender shoulders and pulling her into his body. He places a tender, sweet kiss on her cheek, whispering words in her ear that make a faint blush appear on her cheekbones. She swats him away, trying to stay mad, but the smile that's starting to make its way across her face is unmistakable.
Her parents are very different from the typical married couple, Maya's noticed this regularly. Both of them look no older than twenty, the sunlit glow of youth still lingering on their faces. There's a maturity in the way they speak to each other, eyes drinking in every word the other says. Arjun and Nandini support each other with zero embarrassment about what others may think of them. Guaranteed, their jobs as a schoolteacher and an auror keep them busy, but they still manage to make time for each other and their daughter, an unconventional, but still happy family.
"Wait. . . .where are the blueberries?" Nandini questions, finding the bowl she'd originally poured them into to be empty. She then looks at Maya with shock, the toddler immediately putting an expression of innocent surprise on her face.
"Maya. . . ." tries Nandini, as Arjun tries to hold in his laughter, "Did you eat these?"
"No. . ." tries Maya, shifting to a more comfortable position on the counter, "Why would I?"
Just as the words leave her lips, a handful of blueberries tumble onto the floor from the pocket they were hidden in inside her dress. Nandini gasps, hand flying to cover her mouth as she stares at her daughter. A snicker escapes Arjun's lips, but he quickly covers it up, coaxing his face into an expression of disappointment, tutting as he looks at the empty bowl.
"Maya!!" chides Nandini, hands on her hips, "They were for the muffins! I specifically told you to leave them alone —"
"But I was HUNGRY!!" complains Maya, defiantly jutting out her bottom lip, "And I can't reach the snack shelves in the pantry, so I thought you wouldn't notice if I took one or two— "
"YOU ATE THE ENTIRE BOWL!!"
Arjun immediately loses it at this; He doubles over in hysterical laughter, fist pounding on the counter as he tries to catch his breath. Nandini gasps, scandalized as she whirls around, staring at her husband, who looks as if he might die of laughter.
"Arjun Desai!" she snaps, glaring down at him as he coughs, choking on air, "You are not supposed to be encouraging this — "
"But — " wheezes Arjun, almost dead from laughter, "Your face — "
Maya starts giggling at this too, soon breaking out into full-blown laughter as Nandini stares at the two of them with betrayal etched all over her features.
"It's not funny!" she protests, to which Maya and Arjun's laughter just increases.
In the end, the muffins are made with chocolate instead of fruit and enjoyed with a steaming cup of English breakfast tea the next morning.
The world is white when Maya finally manages to open her eyes.
Or rather, it fades from white. As her vision adjusts to the newfound contrast in lighting, the setting around her slowly comes into focus. The material under her body is soft, smelling clean, starched linen to be precise. Maya swallows, softly, eyes squinting at the light that pours in from a nearby window. She reaches her hand up to shield herself from the painful intrusion but stops.
Medical tape is wrapped around her hand, securing a plastic tube to her arm, a needle embedded in the tender flesh of the back of her hand. It steadily pumps a clear liquid into her veins; pain relief, she supposes, considering the slightly foggy feeling that envelops her mind. Maya exhales softly, fully opening her eyes, lips feeling dry and cracked from lack of hydration. Her head shifts on the pillow behind her, and she slowly sits up, being careful not to disturb the IV and cause complications.
Nandini is asleep in the hospital cot next to her.
Maya's eyes widen; it's a jarring sight to see her mother at school — asleep, especially — after so many months of being away from home. She looks disturbed, uncomfortable; chest rising and falling in a sitting position, one arm hanging off of the bed. Her hair is undone from it's a previous updo, clothes oddly formal, looking as though she's rushed to Maya's side from the middle of a date; Maya judges this from the golden studs sparkling at her ears, a matching bracelet adorning her wrist, and the figure-hugging maroon dress that wraps around her body. She shifts softly on the bed, hand reaching out to touch Nandini's stray hand in a comforting manner.
"Mom?"
Nandini startles awake at the hoarse whisper that emanates from Maya's throat; she blinks, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand as she sits up, legs now touching the floor. Her face twists into one of relief as she catches sight of Maya, immediately enveloping her in a tight hug.
"You're awake!," whispers Nandini, sounding near tears, "Oh my God, you're awake. . ."
'Belial wants his daughter back'
The cold feeling from the previous night suddenly returns; Maya's body feels like stone in her mother's embrace, unyielding, no longer seeking comfort. She inhales sharply, recoiling as Nandini tries to come closer.
'I possessed the body of an unsuspecting mortal in London, after being informed of the existence of an unmarked Indian Shadowhunter by one of my brothers.'
Maya sucks in another deep breath, the scent of sandalwood incense no longer feeling like home.
Her entire life was an illusion.
It feels like she's staring at two different Nandinis; the mother she grew up with, kind, caring, always making sure Maya had the best of everything, the person she could go to for almost anything. And the unrecognizable woman who's standing in front of her, face slathered in shock, the woman who lied to her for more than fourteen years about her birth father.
The mother who's ashamed of her.
"Maya — " tries Nandini, gently reaching out to touch her, as if trying to pet a skittish animal, "Maya, look at me. I'm not going to hurt you — "
"You already have"
The words shock her as they escape her lips; harsh enough Maya is taken aback that they're coming out of her mouth in the first place. Nandini's expression changes; she looks as though she's just been slapped. Tears form in her eyes, but she swallows, pushing her emotions down.
"Y — you lied to me, Mom, " whispers Maya, face flooding into one of incredible hurt, "You told me that I was a warlock, 'destined for great things'. . . .when all I've ever been is demon spawn — "
Nandini's expression changes to one of anger; She grabs Maya by the shoulders, pulling her so that her legs hang off of the edge of the hospital bed.
"That is not true!!" snaps Nandini, eyes burning with an emotion Maya doesn't recognize, "Don't ever talk about yourself like that again — "
Fear shoots through Maya at her mother's behavior, completely out of character when compared to the gentle soul she usually is around her daughter. But the angry words keep leaving her lips like steam from an idli, an unknown force propelling her to verbalize her tempestuous thoughts, which swirl around in her head akin to a hurricane.
"But it's the truth, isn't it?" questions Maya, a bitter chuckle escaping her lips, "I'm nothing but a commodity. Belial himself said it to me — "
Shock comes over Nandini's face.
"W-what?!" she whispers, horrified.
Something catches in Maya's throat as she looks down at her lap, tracing the faded flowers on her hospital gown. Her eyes burn, but she forces herself to maintain composure, her emotions feeling like they're clawing at her insides due to their sudden intensity.
"He said that I was his final chance to regain his abilities, " states Maya, voice wavering slightly; She bites her lip, taking a deep breath, forcing herself to continue, "He failed, with Tessa . . . . and James. The only reason he wants me is to be able to wreak havoc on earth, cause chaos, or whatever demons do in their spare time."
There's a horrified silence for a minute; Maya doesn't look up from her lap, but she can tell that her mother is completely rendered speechless by her account of the events. It feels like someone has replaced her lungs with a vat of boiling acid, hissing and spewing venomous thoughts that she didn't even know existed before. She feels like someone has pulled her previous self away — like the fluffy layers of a croissant — exposing the raw muscle and bone hidden beneath her skin.
The dark and ugly parts of herself are finally coming to light, the ones that Maya's kept carefully hidden thus far.
"Maya — " tries Nandini, head in her hands, "Kanna — I — I don't know how to fix this. All I wanted to do was protect you, "
Maya feels something vile twist within her at Nandini's words, and looks up, meeting her mother's jade-colored eyes with a dull, lifeless look on her face.
"You didn't protect me, Mom, " she says, in a resigned voice; Nandini's face falls.
"You just made it easier for him to capture me instead, "
Numbness is all she can feel for the next week or so.
Her appetite is gone; no matter how many times Madam Pomfrey, Diana or her mother try to get her to eat, Maya still feels sick to her stomach. The trio eventually comes to visit her, including some of the Weasleys, namely Fred and George, who try to cheer her up with their latest invention. Maya tries to smile, but only feels a resounding sense of guilt in her bones, eating away at her. Aurors come into question her, their faces all blurring into nothingness as they ask her to repeat the events of that night for the case report. She tries to recount them as best as she can, but they're clearly not convinced by her responses, faces getting grimmer as she stutters at the more violent parts. Pomfrey eventually threatens to banish them from the grounds if they don't let her get some rest, shooing them away with her wand held in her hand.
It feels like an eternity before school ends, and Maya's allowed to leave the hospital wing. She stands on platform nine-and-three-quarters yet again, an unfamiliar leather jacket draped over her shoulders. New clothes adorn her body; a pretty white top and dark blue jeans, but they feel like cardboard against her skin. The night sky of London twinkles with faint city lights, actual stars few and far between as parents and children reunite on the platform.
Diana pulls Maya into an embrace, sighing as she gently rubs her back. Maya leans into her; they've become very close over the past few days. She's the only person who knows the full account of what happened that night, along with everything that's been going on from the beginning of the year. Diana, shockingly, didn't push her away once she learned of the agreement between Maya and her brother. She simply sighed and said, "I know. I knew all along. I just never told you".
She's the only person Maya's had the courage to fall apart in front of.
"Keep in touch, will you?" requests Diana, eyes closed as they hug each other, "I want to know that you're alive and kicking. Maybe not kicking, you probably shouldn't be doing that in this state — "
Maya snorts, laughter feeling foreign to her.
"But I'm probably not going to be up to much, " continues Diana, rolling her eyes, still holding her arms when they break apart, "So if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here. But don't give my address to Jace, I don't want him sending me love notes. "
"You're always welcome in New York, Diana," says Nandini, from behind her, a warm smile on her face. Her arm wraps around Maya's shoulders, the gesture a little prickly as her daughter awkwardly shifts in her hold, "Just give us a note when you intend to come, and I'll have a bed ready for you, "
"Thank you, Mrs. Rajesh, " replies Diana, with equal kindness, "I'll try and see whether Mum and Dad will let me out " — Diana looks over her shoulder at her parents, who stand ten or so yards away, staring at the three of them disapprovingly — "But if they don't, I guess I'll see you at school, in two months or so, "
"Bye Di, " replies Maya, softly, feeling like she's lost a limb when Diana's fingers drift away, no longer interlocked with hers. Her voice is scratchy, hoarse from rarely being used in the past few days.
Diana smiles, softly, a reassuring, 'You've-got-this' type smile, one that Maya tries to force herself to believe in.
"Bye, stranger," she says, softly, before walking away, towards the Malfoys. Diana's father immediately averts his gaze from his daughter, choosing instead, to stare up at the sky above them. Narcissa is warmer, combing her fingers through Diana's hair with a kind look on her face.
Before she can stop herself, Maya's eyes fall on the person that's leaning against the wall.
They both freeze as their eyes meet.
Draco Malfoy is surprisingly quiet, dressed in a thin, charcoal-colored suit that's inappropriate for the summer weather around them. There's no taunting look on his face, usually present when he's trying to get a rise out of Harry. His expression is resigned, mournful, almost, as he inspects the rings on his fingers before looking back up at her.
There's a raw feeling in her chest as she looks at him, directly into his eyes. It's as if a new wound has opened up again, jagged and deep, cutting through her heart, all the way to the other side of her back. The pain is sudden, searing as she gazes at him, fists clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms. A chasm of emotions suddenly opens up, and not for the first time, Maya feels like she's going to explode.
Look at me, she wants to scream, in front of everyone, LOOK at me. You betrayed me. You lied to me. You reduced me to this.
And you don't even feel sorry for it.
But as she looks at him, Maya can see heartbreak written all over his eyes, betraying his otherwise emotionless expression. It feels like there's an unspeakable divide between them, an electric fence designed to keep Maya and Draco away from each other.
Whatever was there before has vanished.
But for an unfathomable reason, Maya can't bring herself to look away.
Only when Nandini gently places a hand on her shoulder, does she snap out of her trance.
"We need to go," she says, gently looking into her eyes, "Magnus and Tessa are waiting for us outside,"
Maya nods, softly, not being able to hold her mother's gaze. She doesn't know if she can face the rest of her family, after all that's happened.
Will she still be the same old Maya to them?
As they walk away, Maya manages to steal one final glance at him, looking over her shoulder.
Draco's already looking at her, hands tucked into his pockets.
And as they break away, Maya realizes that this little 'thing' between them, that weird feeling she gets when she looks at him —
It's not over. Not going to be anytime soon.
All she can do is pray to find the strength to ignore it.
AAAND that's a wrap! act one is finally over! i honestly didn't think we'd make it this far, but here we are! there is honestly so much more to come, and i'm super excited to share the rest of maya's story with you! stay tuned for updates!
- xoxo, aria
Chapter 21: Chapter 21
Chapter Text
𝕵𝐮𝐥𝐲 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
SHE HASN'T SLEPT PROPERLY FOR THE PAST TWO WEEKS.
When Maya closes her eyes, all she can see is Cedric's body lying on the floor of the graveyard. Cold. Dead. Life abruptly stolen. The green light flashes before she has a chance to scream, to warn him to run away. The memory feels like it's permanently burned into her psyche, branded into the muscly fibres of her brain. It's always the same situation; she's tied to the headstone, unable to do anything, to help, to escape. The light hits him abruptly; too fast, even with prior anticipation. He crumples to the floor, the thud of his body hitting the grass seeming to reverberate through her very bones.
Other times, it's the memory of her being chased through the forest — Moody, or Barty Crouch Jr., as she now knows, calling after her in that eerie, singsong voice. The slash on her thigh still burns viciously, even though it's been healed for weeks, the only remnants of it a thin, white scar running up her leg. She can smell the sweat, dirt and blood that decorated her clothes — Pomfrey had to cut them off of her, Diana told her that in a shaky voice. Maya can still sense the way his wand jabbed into her neck, painful red sparks burning her skin. She can remember being dragged by her hair, the delicate onyx strands being ripped out of her scalp with no mercy whatsoever.
Which is the reason she's standing in front of Isabelle's bathroom mirror, scalp dripping wet, kitchen scissors in one hand, towel draped on her shoulders.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" questions Izzy, looking quite worried; Maya doesn't blame her. Right now, she looks two clowns short of a circus, "Maya . . . . you've been growing your hair out for over five years. Do you really think now is a good time for a haircut?"
To prove her point, Izzy takes a few strands of coal-black hair in her hands, falling to Maya's waist in stringy, damp waves, fresh out of the shower. It doesn't make her feel anything, however; Maya's long, pitch-black locks feel out of place on her previously normal head. It feels wrong, repulsive, almost, to have to look in the mirror and constantly see a reminder of what happened to her that night.
And she wants to get rid of it as soon as possible.
"It's just hair" replies Maya, stiffly, combing her hair until it hangs stick-straight at her waist, "It'll grow back by next year or so, "
"Is this really the best decision to be making when you're this sleep-deprived?" questions Isabelle, eyeing the dark circles under Maya's eyes, which seem to intensify with each passing day. The girl in question glares at her, trying to ignore the yawn that threatens to escape her lips, "I really don't think you're in the right frame of mind to — "
"Iz, I'm fine, " replies Maya, curtly, taking a deep breath. She turns to the mirror, meeting a pair of dark-blue eyes staring back at her in her reflection, "I've thought this through, and it's just . . . way too much. I need a change. I want to cut it all off,"
" All of it?!" questions Isabelle, shocked.
"Before I change my mind"
"Well, if you say so, " Isabelle sighs, running her slender hands through her own hair, a few shades lighter than that of her friend, before tying it up in a bun so it's out of her way. She pulls all of Maya's hair towards her, brushing it so that it's flat and straight down her back. Maya hands her the kitchen scissors, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation.
"I-I don't really know what I'm doing" confesses Izzy, to Maya's mingled surprise and horror, "But I'll try my best to not screw it up"
Her common-sense internally screams as soon as she hears the first snip.
Maya keeps her eyes screwed shut the entire time Izzy snips off her hair, anxiety spiking through her like icicles on the ceiling of a cave. Her rationality knows that this is a truly deplorable decision to be making, putting her appearance in the hands of her well-meaning, but a poor-executionist best friend. Normally, Maya wouldn't even bring it up to Isabelle, silently getting the job done herself in a discreet manner.
But normal is the last thing she feels like.
A changeling. A creature . An unhinged abomination. These are the thoughts that constantly run around inside Maya's head, impossible to ignore, like a bunch of wild, yapping hounds scratching against a chain-link fence. Her very essence feels like it's been split down the middle, unwillingly torn into two jagged halves that don't fit together.
No one looks at her the same way anymore — Magnus quiets down whenever she enters the room, Nandini gives her a considerable amount of space, Jace is being nice to her. Only Isabelle and Alec — bless them for their blunt sense of honesty — remain unchanged, the female Lightwood letting her know that, "Demon father or not, you're still my bookish, slightly insane best friend". Alec's only brought it up once, curtly telling her that she's still the same person he grew up with. In his words, " Nothing's changed, Maya. Your father can swallow his own arse for all I care, but it doesn't matter to me. You're still my friend"
Maya didn't realize how much she missed them at Hogwarts until now.
"Okay. . . .you can look now"
Maya slowly opens her eyes, very unnerved by the uncertain tone of Isabelle's voice.
Oh.
Oh.
It's definitely a shock to see most of her hair gone, no longer feeling the dark strands cascading down her back. But this new haircut reaches to an inch or so below her jaw, cut in a sort of messy bob. It frames her face, and for some reason, gives it a new depth. Her cheekbones are highlighted, chin slightly sharper and lips looking a tad fuller. Guaranteed, it's a little uneven (considering that it was cut at home by her well-meaning best friend), but in a good way — how Izzy's managed to pull it off, Maya has no clue.
It doesn't look bad. Kind of nice, actually. Some would go as far as to say Maya looks pretty. She snuffs the thought out, running her hands through her newly-cropped hair, arranging it so that it's parted on the left side of her head.
"I did great, didn't I?" questions Isabelle, looking very proud of herself; Maya rolls her eyes, somehow managing to find the strength to smile, for the first time in what feels like forever, "Whatcha think? Makes you look kinda badass, doesn't it? "
"I . . ." starts Maya, not sure what to think, "It's . . . different, for sure. In a good way. Actually, I think I kind of like it, " Maya grins, fiddling with the ends of her hair.
A part of her feels liberated, almost rebellious at plucking up the courage to do something so bold. It gives her a strange rush of adrenaline, her mind suddenly feeling lighter. The feeling is new, but much welcomed, a heady distraction from the dark cloud that's hung over her head for the past few weeks.
"Your mom's going to freak" mutters Izzy, as she turns Maya around, making a few, last-minute snips to even out the haircut. Maya smooths her hair down — still damp, somehow, sighing at the guilty weight that drops into her stomach at the fact that she's done this without Nandini's permission.
Although, really, she only thought of this idea three or four hours ago.
"She'll be fine, " replies Maya, vanishing the remaining hair on the bathroom floor and tiles; Isabelle seems to notice the slight hardening in her voice, mouth set in a thin line.
"You should really talk to her, Maya, " states Isabelle, giving her friend a knowing look as she places the folded white towel on an overhead rack, "I know that things are . . . . rocky . . . . with the both of you right now, but maybe if you — "
" Iz — "
" You need to at least try , " persists Isabelle, dark-brown eyes directly meeting Maya's, "Maya, you can't hold it against her forever —
"You don't get it" tries Maya, something catching in her throat as she runs a hand through her hair, looking at the ceiling, "She lied to me — for Raziel knows how long. All this time, people have mocked me for not knowing who my father was, telling me that I was a "bastard" — or for less crass phrasing, "illegitimate". My mom had so many opportunities to stop them, to tell me the truth so I could fend off all the bullies. But she didn't. She just stood by, watching. Knowing that what she was doing was wrong, but going through with it anyway because she was too ashamed to acknowledge the truth. Just like he did"
There's a tense silence for a moment; Isabelle doesn't even have to ask to know who Maya's referring to. A ragged edge of pain persists in her voice, like a raw wound that refuses to heal. It stings deeply in Maya’s chest, making her heart throb intensely, in a manner that physically hurts her to breathe. She looks down at the white, tiled floor, suddenly unable to make eye contact with the girl that she’s known practically her entire life.
“Fine, “ replies Isabelle, gently, when Maya has the courage to look up, “I don’t necessarily agree with what you’re saying, but I understand where you’re coming from”
She reaches over, ruffling Maya’s hair, much to the displeasure of the younger girl, who scowls at her.
“I just hope you’ll do the right thing when the time comes”
The view from Tessa’s balcony is incredible.
Sunset has fallen upon lower Manhattan, the sky painted in a wondrous hue of summery colors. The white-hot sphere that is the sun is hidden behind grey, industrial skyscrapers, some of them shadowed in black as a contrast to the bright sky behind them. The Brooklyn Bridge is visible from this part of the city, still alive with traffic at five in the evening, people heading to the bar from their day at work.
It’s a typical summer evening in New York, soft sunshine pouring down from the clouds above them. Soft music drifts out of the apartment next door to them, along with the smell of something delicious cooking — mexican food, Maya judges this from the smell. The sounds of car horns in the distance are faint, softened by the shouts of children a few yards away, having some sort of a birthday party in the neighborhood park. A light breeze breaks the heat around her, blowing through the balcony as it ruffles a few strands of Maya’s wavy hair. The girl in question has changed into a deep yellow sundress, the scent of strawberry lemonade still clinging to her skin, after an unexpected mishap involving the drink earlier in the day, when Maya accidentally tripped over one of Mina’s stray toys and poured the entire glass on her white shirt.
Definitely not her most careful moment.
The atmosphere around her would normally be peaceful, calm, soothing. New York, for once, looks idyllic around her, picturesque, far from the usual polluted, bustling metropolis it’s known to be. Her state of mind should be relaxed, breezy, matching the nice atmosphere around her.
Maya just feels numb.
In reality, she hasn’t felt anything since she arrived in New York. It’s like an invisible wall has gone up between her and her emotions, blocking them out. Maya’s not able to access them anymore, or at least, as readily as she used to. It’s as if she’s been submerged in lukewarm water, the world around her subdued and blurry, no longer as bright as it once seemed to her naive eyes.
“Why am I like this?” she whispers, out loud, stroking the grey cat in her lap.
Church — an alias for Chairman Meow — purrs in a manner that seems to be an attempt at comforting her, the bell on his collar tinkling as he nuzzles his face into her hand. He’s been with her since childhood, Magnus bringing home as a surprise for four-year-old Maya during their first few weeks of living in New York. She’d instantly taken to him, then a small, timid grey kitten, with large, beautiful amber eyes the very color of honey. Now, he’s more of a cat emperor than anything, bossing around all of the neighborhood cats like he owns the place. Truly living up to his name. He’s sort of her protector — a familiar would be the magical term for him in that sense — and it almost killed her to leave him behind in New York when she went off to Hogwarts.
Maybe if he’d been there with her, last year would’ve been bearable.
“Having fun with Church?”
Something prickles in Maya at the sound of her mother’s voice, painfully casual; She stiffens in her wicker chair, choosing not to turn around and face Nandini.
“I don’t know” she replies, voice quieter than usual, “He seems to be the only one who understands me nowadays, “
The words are a clear dig at Nandini; Maya hears the sound of her sharp intake of breath. She feels a stab of guilt at deliberately guilting her mother, but it’s washed away by the numb sensation that seems to arrive whenever Maya remotely feels anything.
“I’m not going to apologize for trying to keep you safe” states Nandini, voice hardening.
“I never asked you to “ replies Maya, somewhat void of emotion, looking up at the sky. Her jaw clenches, grinding her teeth together roughly.
Maya hears her mother sigh behind her.
“I’ve come to tell you something, “ continues Nandini, subdued, “There’s a wedding back in Mumbai, which your aunt Seema has graciously invited me to. It’s for our niece, Asha, at the of next week.”
“Okay . . .” Maya frowns, words coming out a bit slow, “That’s. . .fine, I guess. When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow. And it’s both of us, not just me”
Maya freezes with shock.
“ What?” She turns around in her chair, Church jumping off of her lap and running back inside, as if he’s sensed an argument brewing. Nandini looks at her with a pensive expression on her face, still dressed in her training gear, empty holster strapped to her thigh. Her dark hair is tied into a messy ponytail, a few strands sticking to her face from the sweat.
“They want to see you, Maya, “ Nandini says this a little gently, crossing her arms over her chest, “Your relatives, I mean. They’ve never met you before, and we’ve been talking for the past few months. I think it’ll be good for us to get out of the country, get some fresh air away from New York, “
“But — but — “ tries Maya, shocked, no words coming out to describe her horror, “But Mom, I — I had plans!!”
“Yeah, I know” replies Nandini, still maintaining her careful tone, “I talked to Maryse, and we postponed the lake trip to the second week of August, when Diana comes over. You’ll still get to go, only at a different time”
Maya slumps down in her chair, posture hunched over. It feels like a balloon has just exploded in her chest, leaving resounding disappointment behind instead of torn rubber. The afternoon sunlight feels too bright; the faint sounds of traffic painfully reverberating in her ears.
So many people, so many pairs of eyes; some of the attention is bound to fall on her. And it seems like she can’t hide, or even get out of this. Just thinking about it makes her want to flee in panic, droplets of nervous sweat starting to break out on her forehead.
“Look, kanna, I know this is sudden, “ Nandini places a warm, comforting hand on Maya’s cheek; Maya oddly finds it more soothing than she expected, “and I’m sorry if I’ve sprung it on you out of nowhere. This past year has been . . . . horrible for you and I understand that. But you’ve been cooped up in your room for the past few weeks. You haven’t spoken to anyone except Isabelle and . . . . well, Church. I understand that it’s a bit. . .trying. . . for you to socialize right now, but it might help. Can you try? For me?”
Maya sighs, putting her head in her hands; It’s the ‘ for me’ part that really does it in for her. No matter how angry she is at her mother, there’s a small, intrinsic part of her that tries to understand where Nandini’s coming from.
She’s had it out for her all summer; It feels wrong to ruin something like this for her mother.
“Fine, “ Maya hears herself say, “I’ll do it”
Mumbai is hotter than she expected.
Guaranteed, it’s July. It’s just past the point of peak summer in India, the temperatures at that time reaching over 120 degrees in Fahrenheit. But the sheer humidity still surprises her, and though she doesn’t have a mirror, Maya can literally feel her hair expanding sideways, making her grateful for the air-conditioned interior of the taxi.
They’re going through the city at a speed that’s probably illegal, but the scenery outside is a welcome distraction. Brightly colored storefronts and street vendors make up most of the scenery, words written in fancy Hindi script ( and occasionally, other languages such as Marathi ). The street is crammed with people — women in brightly colored sarees balancing metal pots on their heads, men in business attire on scooters, pushing and jostling their way to get through traffic, rich actors in tinted limousines cajoling their drivers to go faster — Maya swears that one of the blurry figures resembles Ekta Kapoor. There are thousands of honks at once; people are shouting over each other, a Hindi song blaring from the stereo of an ancient white ambassador car, the delicious, spicy smell of vada pav emanating from an open-air stall next to them.
It’s so much to take in at once; even though Maya’s used to the bustling New York traffic, it still feels like pure chaos to her. But she feels a kinship to it all the same; as though she’s been wandering around all this time and has finally come home.
Maya now understands why Nandini talks about her homeland so much; even though she grew up in England, her adoptive parents still regularly visited Mumbai every year.
Soon, however, Nandini pulls Maya away from the window, closing it, claiming that the dust from the pollution is poisonous if you breathe it in for too long. She’s a bit annoyed with this; now left with nothing but the thoughts in her own head. Her mother would probably freak if she went on her phone — not that she’s getting any service.
But Nandini’s distracted, talking to someone — her sister, probably, on the phone, so Maya silently pulls hers out, relieved to find out that roaming mode is finally, finally working. She has a text from Alec and Izzy on their whatsapp group, named “Chaotic Crackheads”, a fitting title for their friend group. Maya quickly types back a response, snapping a picture of the scenery outside and captioning it “Landed! Now I just need to meet the fam . . . . totally not awkward at all . . . “
Isabelle immediately pops online, the ‘typing’ icon appearing on Maya’s screen for a millisecond before a new message pops up.
“ Mumbai looks incredible! You’ll be fine lol, just be yourself and don’t stress out about it too much!”
Maya sighs. Isabelle’s the more confident one out of the three of them — outranked only by Jace, who borders on obnoxious half of the time. She’s always been so sure of herself, easygoing, able to fit in no matter where she goes. Situations like this would be a breeze for her. But Maya? Not so much. With her lack of awareness about the culture, tendency to trip over anything in her path, and American accent that doesn’t go away no matter how many times she speaks Tamil or Hindi, she’s a walking disaster compared to them. If she screws up the first impression, there’s absolutely no going back.
“ Easy for you to say,“ Maya types back, a few moments later , “ I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing. And don’t tell me to be myself, I’m a hot, stumbling mess. I don’t know how to speak the language properly, I don’t wear Indian clothes, I barely go to the New Jersey temple, I’ve never even been here until now. How am I supposed ‘ be myself’ in front of them?” She’s breathing heavily with panic by the type she pressed ‘send’.
“ Maya, CALM DOWN” is Isabelle’s next response, “ Panicking isn’t going to do anything. Don’t glare at me through your screen — I know that’s exactly what you’re doing. Just breathe. In and out. You’ll be fine, I’m sure they’ll love you. You’ve got sort of a loveable charm about you”
Maya does as she says, feeling a bit better after a few moments, the newfound oxygen in her lungs clearing her head somewhat.
“ Loveable charm?” she types back, a few moments later, with a raised eyebrow emoji, “ Iz, I know we’re best friends, but don’t you think that’s a bit of a stretch?”
“Maybe. . .” is what she gets back, “ But I find your sarcasm endearing, so who knows, maybe it’ll all work out! You might even come back with a boyfriend — not related, of course, that’s just weird”
“Like my mother would ever let that happen” Maya snorts, “ She’ll have me on my toes the entire time, “
“You never know!” is Izzy’s jovial response, “ Things happen on vacation, darling . . . you might meet some young, handsome movie star, who’ll inevitably dedicate his next project to his beautiful, genius, Indian-American girlfriend, who has an internship waiting for her at the New York institute . . . “
Maya’s heart squeezes in anticipation; Her friend is right and wrong at the same time. The Lightwoods are looking for some fresh faces to add to their media & press team — the ones that run the magazine, a sleek, clean-cut publication titled “ Vox Angelus” , which roughly translates to “The Voice Of The Angel” in English. Almost every Shadowhunter in New York reads it, and it’s starting to make some serious waves in the world of journalism. They’ve recently launched a youth outreach program, for a new, teen-driven project that aims to bring in some more diverse voices to the mostly white group of journalists that write for the paper. Maya submitted her application a few days ago, spending hours agonizing over every little detail on the form. After three, agonizing, tension-filled days of waiting, she finally got a reply this morning, thanking her for her entry and sending her the essay prompt, to be submitted next February, when the application process ended.
It’s a heavy duty topic — “Why must journalists strive to improve representation in both their coverage and their newsrooms, and how might this happen?” — but she has around eight months to complete the essay. If she gets in, the program would look stunning on her college application, boosting her chances of getting into NYU or Northwestern, like she’s always dreamed of. It could boost her career faster, if people saw that she’d had previous experience, something that most college graduates struggle with. But it’s a coin toss as to whether they’ll let her in — the board might not even consider her application out of “nepotism”, since her mother is quite close with the Lightwood family and could potentially influence the probability of her being accepted — even though there’s no way Nandini would even consider doing something like than, given the ethical code she operates by.
All Maya can do is wait, agonizingly, and write, of course.
“ We don’t even know if I’ll get in, so don’t jinx it!” she replies, a few moments later, “ For all I know, they could reject my application because it’s identical to every other desi kid who lives in New York. I don’t have nearly the amount of experience Alia does — her father works there, for god’s sake. All I can do is wait and hope the essay is enough to get accepted for next year.”
“You’ve wanted this since you were a kid, Maya, “ Isabelle replies, almost immediately after, “ I’ve seen your old Katniss and Peeta fics — you have real talent when it comes to writing! You just need the confidence, and a cheerleader to push you through it — which I will gladly take the role of. For now, just relax, and enjoy this vacation, okay?”
“We’re nearing Juhu!” announces the driver, cheerfully. Nandini eyes Maya’s phone in her peripheral vision — a silent signal for her to put it away and get packing. Maya takes the hint, quickly typing back an , “ I love you but I gtg. Mom’s giving me the side-eye .” before stowing her phone in the pocket of her jeans, smoothing down her hair as the stygian, ornate structure of the Subramanian Manor becomes visible in the distance. The heavy, iron-wrought gates have guards standing next to them, and after an explanation from Nandini, they begrudgingly let the car drive inside, looking at the three of them suspiciously as the gates close behind them.
The magnificent manor is surrounded by lush, well-maintained greenery, a welcome change from the monotonous urbanity of the city around them. It’s made of pure white stone, or marble — Maya can’t really tell the material from this distance — that seems to glow in the vibrant sunlight that pours down into the courtyard. The architecture is a symphonious mixture of Indian and Victorian style, indicating that the house dates back tens, if not hundreds of years. It seems to stretch upwards forever, almost blocking the sky with how many floors it seems to have. A marble fountain stands in the center of the courtyard, a sculpture of a dancing nymph with a dove perched on her shoulder having water pouring out of the statue’s outstretched hand. It should feel ostenatious, gaudy — but emits an eccentric sort of beauty that somehow impresses Maya, though she hasn’t seen many manors in her lifetime.
Maya gets out as Nandini pays the driver, thanking him for bringing them here so quickly from the airport. The courtyard is paved in light grey graphite, the canvas of her black converse suddenly feeling cheap compared to the lavish surroundings she’s standing in. The glass-paneled front door opens; Nandini’s older sister Seema rushes out and envelops her mother in a hug.
“ Bahut din ho gaye, kaise ho didi? [ It’s been so long, how are you? ] ” whispers the older woman.
Her face is less angular than Nandini’s, slender stature resembling more that of Maya’s. She’s definitely pretty, with high cheekbones, deep brown hair that’s only just beginning to gray and dark green eyes, an inviting aura radiating from her, mirroring that of her younger sister.
But what strikes Maya the most isn’t her external features; it’s the aura of grit that seems to stick to her, as though she’s seen and been through a lot in her forty-something years. Her voice is kind and light, matching the magenta and gold kurta that adorns her willowy figure, but holds a hint of wisdom in it’s deeper tones.
“ Ham teek kar rahe hain [ We’re doing okay ] “ replies Nandini, warmly, as they break apart, shooting Maya a worried side glance, “ Rahul aur bachche kaise hain? [ How are Rahul and the kids? ] “
“ Aap Rahul ko jaanate hain, hamesha kee tarah vyast [ You know Rahul, busy as always ] “ replies Seema, a hint of bitterness in her voice, “ Rhea ko skool mein kuch pareshaanee ho rahee hai - jaahir taur par usakee Demonology teacher a thodee matalabee hai. Lekin Karthik abhee Goa ke ek mishan se laute hain raiturnaid [ Rhea’s having some trouble in school, apparently her demonology teacher is a bit mean. But Karthik’s just returned from a mission in Goa ] - his team successfully managed to break into a Vampire blood club! “
“ Vaah! , “ replies Nandini, an impressed look on her face, “ Bahut acha! [ Wow! That’s great! ] Maya’s just cleared her final exams. I thought it would be good for her to finally meet you all, after . . . “
The meaning of Nandini cutting herself off is clear; Maya’s cheeks immediately flush with embarrassment, resisting the urge to snap at her mother as she looks at the ground. She immediately feels Seema take her hand in a comforting manner, giving her a sympathetic look that sends an odd, jittery feeling through her, like mice scattering everywhere.
“How are you, beta?” she questions, softly, as Maya fidgets, nervous, “Doing alright? After the . . “
“I’m fine, maasi [ aunt ] “ Maya replies, a little too quickly; It’s quite clear that she’s uncomfortable talking about this, “ Aap ka ghar bohot sundar hai. [ Your house is very beautiful ]“
Seema seems impressed at Maya’s Hindi; american-sprinkled as it is. She smiles, cupping her cheek gently before leading the both of them inside, chattering on about something Maya can’t even begin to understand, closing the door behind them.
The interior of the mansion is just as classy as it’s grand counterpart. A modern, diamante crystal chandelier hangs down from the domed ceiling, parts of the ivory inlaid with thin swirls of gold and silver. The living room — which is twice the size of their new apartment in Manhattan — or at least, what looks like it, is made up of a circular, peacock blue sectional sofa with fluffy chartreuse and turquoise accent cushions, and a crystal coffee table that probably costs more than what Nandini makes in a year. Two elegant, curved staircases make their way to the upper floors, soft evening sunlight coming down from the large skylight fixed into the ceiling.
Maya immediately knows that she’s going to get lost walking around here.
“Well, the mehendi ceremony is the day after tomorrow, " states Nandini, a worried frown on her face, " Isalie ummeed hai ki hamaare paas sab kuchh khareedane ke lie paryaapt samay hoga [ So hopefully we'll have enough time to shop for everything ]"
"Remind me why you didn't prepare earlier?" questions Seema, crossing her arms over her chest, a hint of playfulness in her voice.
"I had to stick to tradition, " replies Nandini, a smirk appearing on her face, "We're a last-minute family, remember?"
"How could I forget?" states Seema, ruffling the other woman's hair, much to her little sister's chagrin, "You didn't think to call me to help with Maya until the second you were about to give birth. And Arjun was the one talking on the phone. "
"Hey!" interjects Nandini, looking reproachful, "I was in labor — of course I was bound to be forgetful!"
" Sure. ., " replies Seema, rolling her eyes before facing Maya, "Maya, beta, your room is just down the hall there — " she points to the gigantic staircase on the right, " — Just make a left turn, it'll be the third room on the right! Are you sure you aren't hungry or anything? We were just about to have breakfast, "
"I'm fine, but thank you for asking, " Maya replies, politely, forcing the yawn that threatens to escape her throat; She's dead tired after the flight. Seema seems to notice, expression changing to one of concern as she eyes Maya with worry.
"You should probably get some rest, " says Nandini, gesturing up the stairs, "Can't be jet-lagged tomorrow, can we? What's the saying - bright-eyed and beaver-tailed?"
"It's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed " corrects Seema, a scoff emanating from her lips, "Honestly woman, you've lived in the Mundane world for over twenty years! You should know these things by now!"
"It was one mistake! — "
The sound of their bickering fades away as Maya climbs up the stairs, following Seema maasi's directions to get to the room upstairs. How she gets there is a blur, the exhaustion from the eventful day finally catching up to her. The room is decorated in the same tones as the living room; dark turquoise walls with white crown molding attaching them to the ivory ceiling. Maya's pleased to see that the decorations don't look as delicate and expensive as the rest of the house, more whimsical, a tree painted in white decorating the space on the wall above the headboard. The bed itself looks quite inviting, fluffy blue and white pillows with a soft-looking navy-blue comforter.
After making sure the door is locked, Maya sighs, undressing, peeling off her sweat-soaked t-shirt and jeans. The cool temperature of the room — a phenomenon caused by the air conditioning vents hidden somewhere in the room — feels soothing on her bare skin, refreshing compared to the scorching heat outside. She runs her fingers through her somewhat damp hair, wishing now more than ever that it was long enough to tie up.
However, her tiredness soon takes over, and Maya crawls between the covers, curling up under the duvet and drifting off to what she hopes is a completely dreamless period of rest.
She's running, sprinting madly through the forest again. There's a skittish, primal instinct that's suddenly been activated, adrenaline shooting through her veins, the heavily laden chemical infusing itself into her bloodstream. Predator vs. Prey. The classic moral dilemma. Maya wheezes, her breath coming out in short little pants as she struggles to propel herself further, endurance now almost pathetic compared to what she could withstand before.
She pauses, for a split second, bending down, her head spinning as she places her palms on her thighs. Maya feels like her chest is caving in on itself from sheer terror. She hears the faint sounds of twigs snapping behind her, her heart picking up speed, knowing that Moody is right behind her. By instinct, Maya reaches for her front pocket, wand stowed there.
But it's too late.
A spurt of red light hits her in the back; Maya realizes too late that it's a petrifying curse. She falls face-first to the earthen floor of the forest, gasping as the wet, musty scent of leaves suffocates her nostrils. Her heart thunders in her chest as she feels Moody walk up behind her, heel of his boot painfully digging into her shin. He stands over her, gripping her hair painfully as he flips Maya's limp body over, grinning in satisfaction as he sees the frozen expression on her face.
Then his wand presses into her neck, and Maya feels herself tumbling into blackness.
She wakes up drenched in sweat.
It's not as bad as her previous dreams, which are much gorier and detailed in their nature, vivid images flashing behind her eyes for hours afterward. In fact, it's relatively tame. But Maya still jolts awake, swearing as her head bangs into the headboard from how fast she sits up.
The pain radiates through her skull as she sits, five minutes later, still curled up into a ball as Maya reels from the disastrous visions that plagued her sleep moments prior. She hears thunder crack from outside, and immediately winces, a startled whimper escaping her lips out of fear as Maya curls tighter in on herself.
Everything is too much right now; her resolve reduced to the thickness of a single strand of hair. Maya stays in that position for an unhealthy amount of time, rocking back and forth as she struggles to breathe. The darkness that's behind her eyelids momentarily becomes her safe place, a solace free of overstimulation, where her raw nerve endings can finally scab over and heal.
It's not real, Maya reminds herself, over and over, It was just a nightmare. No one's going to hurt you. You're safe here.
Maya doesn’t even know if she can believe herself.
Finally, when she feels coherent enough to move like a human being, Maya slowly unfurls from her temporary cocoon. Her legs tremble as she stands up, stumbling across the room, trying to minimize the amount of noise she makes considering it can't be more than three or four in the morning, everyone else in the house fast asleep. The cool air hitting her bare skin suddenly feels unnerving; her previous exhaustion made her more comfortable in her-half nakedness than Maya usually likes. She wraps her arms around her body while walking to the bathroom, trying to cover it up as best as she can.
The light turns on as soon as she enters; Maya supposes there's a sensor designed to pick up movement. It's a relatively spacious bathroom, white tiling all over, modern shower with a claw-foot bathtub on the side. She catches sight of her face in the mirror; sleep-tangled hair matted around her face, eyes puffy and bloodshot.
If Maya were in a more joking mood, she'd say that she looks like a hobo.
She stumbles to the shower, hands over her eyes giving her some relief from the sudden change in lighting. Maya blindly removes what little clothing she has on, hands finding the knob and switching on the water. She shivers as it hits her body, closing the door while stepping into the shower.
The water soaks her hair, gradually warming up as she stands there, barely being able to support herself. Maya completely leans her head into the wall, sighing as the warm water envelops her body, soothing her tense muscles as it cascades down her back. Her arms are still wrapped around herself, though no longer shivering because of the new warmth in her environment. Eventually, however, standing becomes too much of a strain. Maya lets herself slide down the glass wall, sinking down onto the marble floor of the shower, her head leant back against the wall. The sound of running water in the background is oddly peaceful, shutting down all the unnecessary noise in her head and giving her time to think.
She's so tired, both physically and mentally, wanting nothing more than to get some sleep but terrified of the nightmares that come along with it. Her friends and family try to hide their concern around her — wanting to not jeopardize her already-fragile mental state — but Maya can see that she’s worrying them, a stab of guilt always accompanying the frequent notion that flits through her head. Some of them look at her like a kicked puppy — the pity woven into her gazes feeling prickly and uncomfortable.
Maya would give anything in the world to skip this wedding; It’s way too much to deal with right now. From what Seema maasi implied, there will be little to no breaks between the events, leaving only a miniscule amount of time for Maya to mentally prepare herself for facing people she barely knows. Sleep isn’t really an option either; unless she starts taking Dreamless Sleep potion, which is most definitely addictive in the quantities Maya will need to use it in. Just the thought of running around Mumbai and shopping for wedding clothes makes something in her chest deflate; a dark cloud settling over her head.
It’s just a week Maya reminds herself, trying to remain calm, One week of being normal. Then you can go back home and do whatever the hell you want.
She stays in the shower for much longer than necessary, curled up on the floor, lost in thought. It’s a sort of peaceful haven from the chaos that resides outside, almost soothing, giving her space to be alone with her thoughts. However, Nandini’s voice soon hits her from outside, jolting Maya out of her tranquil reverie. She immediately realizes that the water around her is freezing cold, and stands up, quickly washing how much ever of her body and hair that she can, before drying herself off with a towel and turning the water off.
Maya walks back to her bedroom. The temperature inside is somewhat warmer, the AC having been lowered while she was gone. She casts a cleaning charm on her teeth, unzipping her suitcase and pulling out the first clothes she finds; a faded pink t-shirt and black athletic leggings. Granted, it’s probably a very peasant-like thing to wear, considering her lavish surroundings, but Maya genuinely can’t bring herself to care at this point. Her appearance, neat or not, is probably the last thing on her mind.
Three people are seated at the dining table when Maya enters; Nandini’s still in her pajamas, a mint-colored top and trousers, drinking deeply from her signature mug of black coffee. Seema’s bringing a fresh stack of dosas to the table; delicious savory crepes made of fermented lentils, usually eaten for breakfast by South Indians. There are dozens of kinds, but Maya’s favorite is the classic rava dosai, a crispy, buttery variation made with a grain native to India. These are the normal kind — Maya notes this with a tinge of disappointment — but there are three kinds of chutneys on the table; white or thengai chutney, made from coconut, green or puthina chutney, made from mint, and red, or thakkali chutney, made from tomatoes, Maya’s preferred version.
Maya sits down, eyes finally landing on the third person in the room. It’s a boy, around her age, give or take a year. Karthik — Maya recognizes her cousin, a flare of familiarity lighting in her head — looks curious, hazel eyes surveying her without any hint of the guardedness that’s present with everybody else. His hair is a lighter shade than her mother’s, sort of messy, but darker than Seema maasi’s, almost-black but not quite. Runes peek out from the collar of his graphic t-shirt, accompanied by black track pants underneath, a surprisingly tame outfit for someone probably worth millions.
He looks more like her than the rest of the family, notices Maya — dark caramel skin, straight nose, deep-set eyes, high cheekbones. Not much taller than her too, or at least it seems that way from the way he’s sitting. But what strikes her isn’t his conventionally attractive appearance — the kind that would get you job offers as a model — , no. It’s the inquisitive way he seems to look at her, neutral, curious, rather than with pity. And Maya finds it kind of endearing, despite her rational mind telling her not to.
“Sit, sit!” bustles Seema, sweeping toward her, deep purple robe fastened over her nightgown, “What would you like to have? We have waffles in the fridge, if you’re not accustomed to eating dosais; I could heat one up for you now, if you want. There’s juice, coffee, tea, hell, we even have mango smoothies; which are in perfect season now. You look so thin, “ ― she gives Nandini a disapproving look at this ― “ I’m hoping my sister is feeding you enough ― “
“ Mamma , you’re hovering” interrupts Karthik, uncomfortable. He shoots Maya an “ are you okay?” type look, as Seema scoffs, scandalized.
“I’m not hovering, “ Seema states, haughtily, “I am simply trying to make our guest feel comfortable!”
“She looks terrified, “ snorts a voice from the entrance.
Maya looks in that general direction and spots a tall girl leaning against the doorframe, eyes glued to her phone. Now she, she looks like the typical Indian rich girl. Black hair expertly highlighted with dark brown streaks and pinned in a puff on her head, she’s already fully dressed for the day, in an intricate white lace top and blue jeans that look like something Maya will never be able to afford. Her eyes are dark brown ― a stark contrast to the strange hues that seem to run in the rest of the family. She eyes Maya coolly, in an appraising manner that, although, borders on rude, isn’t altogether unpleasant.
“Look who’s finally awake, “ replies Karthik, tone dripping with sarcasm as he sips his orange juice, “Tell me, Rhi, do you realize that your room has extremely thin walls? Or do you think I actually enjoy listening to your banshee screams every time Rithvik makes a lame-ass joke?”
“It’s not my fault you have the hearing of a bat” grumbles Rhea, crossing her arms over her chest. She sighs in displeasure as she sees the breakfast spread on the table, “Dosa again? Mom , I told you, I’m on a cleanse. I can’t do carbs,”
Seema sighs.
“Sometimes I wonder who raised you both, because I know for a fact that I did not create . . . . this”
“It’s the Internet, Seema” Nandini downs the rest of the coffee, a resigned expression on her face, “It makes monsters out of all of us, “
Maya rolls her eyes when Nandini isn’t looking; Karthik snorts.
“Oh, hey” calls Rhea, finally acknowledging Maya’s presence in the room, “You’re Maya, right?”
“The one and only, “ replies Maya, half-joking, feeling somewhat self-conscious. She rubs her arms nervously, suddenly aware of how ratty she looks compared to her cousin’s casual elegance. Like a musty old thodappam ( broom ) side-by-side with a fancy, dyson vacuum cleaner.
Her lack of cash flow didn’t really bother her before, due to the fact that Nandini’s job as a Shadowhunter doesn’t really pay billions. Even though the Lightwoods are relatively wealthy, their kids only recieve a minimal allowance to ensure that they don’t grow up spoiled, Maya and Izzy having almost the same amount of pocket money each month. She didn’t really have use for fancy clothes or gadgets in Queens, considering that Rosedale was a questionable area to live in and that they would probably get stolen in a matter of days. But now that they’re moving to Manhattan, finally able to afford the area because of Nandini’s salary being doubled ( and also due to the unearthly commute time it took to reach the Institute from their previous residence ), the difference in income is becoming more and more apparent.
And Maya can’t help feeling a little envious towards her cousins, well-off enough that they’ll never have to worry about saving for college.
“Cool . . . “ replies Rhea, already back on her phone, “ I’ll skip on breakfast, actually, Nancy’s inviting me to brunch at her place. Then there’s the matter of my shopping, which will probably take up a few hours ― we have four events to prepare for, after all. So I think I’ll only be back for dinner today, “
Seema sighs; it’s clear that she’s displeased with this arrangement, but knows it’s necessary for the events that are about to unfold.
“Why don’t you take Maya along, if it’s not too much trouble?” questions Nandini, to Maya’s mingled surprise and horror, “It’d be a nice change for her to get out of the house; and her shopping would also get done too. If that’s okay with you, of course?”
“Fine with me” shrugs Rhea, to Maya’s utter shock. She swallows, nervous; it’s clear that her cousin and herself are very different people.
Tessa, once noticing her fragile state of mind when she first came back, told her to take baby steps, give herself a bit of leeway if she didn’t want to interact with people. But it’s clear that Nandini has a very different method of coping. One that Maya finds more to her disadvantage than to help with her shitty mood.
"I'll come too, " pipes up Karthik shocking Maya for the third time that day. He seems to sense her discomfort at being invited out, and she feels relief wash over her at his comforting smile. Seema frowns, narrowing her eyes at her son, "Not like I have anything better to do,"
" You want to go shopping with the girls?" questions Seema, confused, as Karthik nods, seriously, " Kanna . . . . . doesn't that seem a bit . . . . I don't know . . . . stereotypical to you?"
"I can still be gay and enjoy shopping without being a stereotype, Mom, " replies Karthik, rolling his eyes. Maya's a bit surprised at how Seema doesn't have a negative reaction; times must have really progressed here for an Indian family of Shadowhunters to be that open to homosexuality. Her aunt just smirks, shaking her head.
"Just be careful when talking about this in front of the rest of the family, " warns Nandini, a worried edge to her voice, as Maya finishes her dosai, "They're still fairly conservative when it comes to homosexuality, "
"Like I could forget, " replies Karthik, rolling his eyes, “I still can’t forget when Maheshwari aunty accused Nandini maasi for “turning me gay” after I came out, “
His voice turns lofty in an imitation of the homophobic woman , “ ‘ He’s a child! He doesn’t know about all of . . . . this!! What corrupt elixir have you mixed in his shrikand, Nandini, hmm?”
“Isn’t she in rehab?” questions Seema, frowning, “ Yin fen addiction or something?”
“Bless her heart, “ says Nandini, sounding oddly worried, confused at the shocked stares she gets from everyone else in the room, “ What? She’s still not completely horrible . . . . . despite the homophobia, “
“And the condescension, “ adds Seema
“And the seven ex-husbands, “ pipes up Rhea, not looking up from her phone
“Don’t forget the back hair, “ Karthik shudders, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
“Who are we talking about again?” questions Maya, completely bewildered.
“I’ll take that as our cue to leave, “ states Rhea, looking a little green at the mention of Maheshwari aunty’s more . . . . unsightly features; She turns to her cousin, “Maya, you coming?”
“Yeah . . . “ replies Maya, forcing herself to stand up; Her plate vanishes of food, sparkling clean again, “Let me just change out of my pajamas, “
This is going to be a long month, Maya thinks to herself, glumly.
She considers filling her water bottle with wine to make this day slightly more bearable.
“Which one do you like better?” questions Rhea, four hours later, not even fazed in the slightest, “This?” She holds up an ornate, long-sleeved pink lehenga, the sequins on the top glittering in the fluorescent lighting of the showroom, “Or this?” Rhea puts down the pink lehenga, and holds up a deep purple, strapless lehenga, the silken skirt swishing around on the ivory-tiled floor.
“Huh?” Maya snaps out of her daze, blinking as she looks between the two outfits. She feels ashamed of herself for not paying attention, considering how nice her two cousins have been, inviting her out with them, “Oh the purple one is elegant, but I like the pink as well ― it’s . . . . bright ,”
And definitely not her cup of tea. Maya thinks to herself, put off by the neon-ish color that practically scorches her retinas with how intense it is. Rhea sighs, clearly not pleased with her response as she puts both of the lehengas back, eyes lingering on the one of purple silk.
“Found it!” Karthik states, proudly, dragging a rack towards them; a few clothes are hung up. He pulls out a magnificent, dark blue sherwani from the hanger. The silver detailing runs all over the collar, rounding at the hem and covering the cuffs. It’s truly an exemplary work of craftsmanship, the rich, silky material hinting of velvet, “Whaddaya think?”
“I like it,” replies Maya, softly, voice small, at the same time Rhea says, “Makes you look like an army general,”. They both flush, eyes meeting and instantly looking away from each other in embarrassment.
Karthik sighs, rubbing his temples as he walks to the loveseat, sitting down next to Maya and wrapping an arm around her. She flinches, the contact feeling foreign at first, but gradually relaxing into his embrace.
“Is there . . . . is it something I’m doing?” questioned Karthik, concerned, “Or is something about being here . . . triggering . . . for you?”
“We can go somewhere else if you want” offers Rhea, scooting down so she’s on Maya’s other side; Maya’s surprised by the softness and concern in both of their voices.
“Thank you . . . but it’s not you . . . “ She forces herself to speak up, ignoring the way her voice shakes and scratches from rarely using it these days, “It’s me, “
“How so?” presses Karthik, gently. Maya sighs.
There’s no getting out of this; no matter how much Maya detests talking about her feelings, there’s no other explanation as to why she’s so detached and borderline rude to the people around her.
She swallows her fear, and presses on.
“Ever since . . . that night . . . “ Maya starts, trying to contain the way her voice cracks, “I . . haven’t felt like myself. Every time . . . I close my eyes, “ Tears prickle at her eyes, but she pushes them down, “I ― It feels like I’m back there. I keep having dreams, nightmares of what happened. Some are accurate, some aren’t. And . . . I-I . . . can’t feel . . . anything. It feels like my emotions have been . . . stolen . . . replaced with a hollow shell instead of my actual heart. I feel . . . dead “
There’s an unreadable silence for a moment; Maya suddenly feels utterly naked in front of them. She hasn’t dared to admit this to anyone; not even her closest friends. But there’s just this quality about her cousins ― Karthik, especially ― that makes it easy for her to share things like this with them. Maya looks down at her lap, as Rhea sighs, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“That’s . . . horrible “ Karthik states, after a while, “I can’t even imagine how hard it’ll be for you to manage in front of everyone . . . especially during the sangeet and all, “
“I think a calming potion will do the trick, “ replies Maya, finally looking up, “And maybe some dreamless sleep the night before, “
“I think I have a way to make you feel better, “ replies Rhea, guardedly, as Maya’s head snaps in her direction, “It’s a little unconventional . . . . but I feel like it’ll help with your confidence and possibly raise your mood a little, “
“Really?” questions Maya, skeptical, “What is it?”
“Don’t say it .. . ” Karthik warns, wagging his finger in his sister’s direction, “Don’t you dare ― “
“A makeover!” Rhea claps her hands together, looking ecstatic, “You’re my new project!”
Maya gapes at her, a shocked gasp escaping her lips. She lets out a shocked laugh, not knowing whether to feel horrified or amused at her cousin’s new words.
“Wha- Are you serious?!” Maya questions, breaking out into a cold sweat. This is her method of dealing with night terrors?
“Trust me on this, Maya” replies Rhea, solemnly placing her hands on the younger girl’s shoulders, “When you look good on the outside, it’s bound to make you feel better on the inside. Not saying you look horrible or anything ― “ she gestures to Maya’s drab outfit of a plain black t-shirt and jeans ― “ but your appearance could do with some sprucing up . . . especially with all these events coming up. And if we pull it off, it might make you feel better. What do you think, Karthik?”
Maya hears him sigh from behind her. He rubs his temples for a bit, thinking it over before answering.
“I’m okay with it if Maya is, “ replies Karthik.
`
“Maya? What do you think?” questions Rhea, anxious.
Maya sighs, running a hand through her hair. A part of her wants to protest, feeling like rushing back home and curling up in the dark cocoon that is her bed. But there’s another part of her that’s sick of feeling like this; used, broken, useless. And she’d do anything to get even a brief sense of normalcy back.
“I’m okay with it . . . . just don’t do anything too crazy, “
Rhea squeals, immediately wrapping Maya in a much-needed hug.
“Oh my god, I have so many ideas!!” she gushes, “This is going to be so fun ― :
Karthik smirks, waving over one of the store attendants as he strikes a flamboyant pose, flipping on his sunglasses.
“ Bhaiyya, bring over your best Sabyasachis ” He drawls, in a posh voice, glancing at Maya as Rhea grins.
“We’re giving her the Subramanian experience today”
“Stop fussing! It’s going to smear if you keep moving like that!”
“I’m not fussing! I’m just moving so you don’t poke me in the eye!”
“It’s six in the morning! Of course my coordination’s going to be shitty!”
“ Are yaar! I did not wake up at three in the morning to listen to you two fighting like alley cats, “
“Yeah, you woke up so you could ogle the shirtless priest Mom’s hired for the puja s”
Maya snorts, the black coffee she’s just swallowed threatening to shoot out of her nose at the dry tone of Rhea’s voice. Karthik immediately flushes, caught in his words, stammering as he tries to deflect his embrassment.
“You ― you were looking at him too,! “ he sputters out
“I didn’t drool at the man when he passed us in the corridor, “ states Rhea, a somewhat sympathetic expression on her face, tone still teasing, “Poor guy, you were practically eye-fucking him!”
“I was not doing anything of the sort! Can’t a guy appreciate another guy without being considered gay?”
“You are gay, though” Maya corrects, much to Karthik’s chagrin, “No offense, “
“Traitors . . . . . the lot of you. . . “ he mutters, slinking down in his seat, drinking deeply from his mug of coffee, “Can’t even appreciate another man without being called gay . . . . he is fit, though . . . . “
Rhea simply rolls her eyes, finishing up the rest of the eyeliner on Maya’s eyes and turning her around to look at herself in the mirror. Maya blinks once, twice, due to how her lashes stick together from the mascara, and gasps once she looks in the mirror.
She’s never really thought of herself as beautiful before. Not even pretty. When you’re as short as Maya is, the only endearment you’ll get is ‘cute’, which feels more demeaning than a term of praise. She’s always looked somewhat strange, out of place with her dark blue eyes, making no sense with her caramel skin and black hair. Her body isn’t - or wasn’t - much to look at either, with a flat chest and even flatter ass, hips awkwardly jutting out of her skin. Maya looked, quite literally, plain. Nothing special. Easy to pass over.
But now, with the way highlighter classically glitters on her cheekbones, emphasizing them, the way her eyes are lined, sharpening them and making the aquamarine irises look piercing, the slight hints of blush on the hollows of her cheeks, the way her lips are carefully painted with red pigment, making them look soft and fuller, contrasting with the sharp angles of her face, the way her hair is curled, side-parted, falling down to her jaw looking the healthiest it’s ever been, Maya can’t help but realize that she looks stunning.
It’s as if her features have been hidden all along, masked under the gaze of her own judgemental eyes, taking another hand to make her see herself in a different light. And her clothes are no exception; the dark green lehenga , a shade she never thought would have looked good on her previously, fitting like a glove, snug in all the right places and loose enough to move comfortably. The glitter details shimmer in the dim light of the room, her fingers looking long and nimble because of the beautiful, deep red swirls of henna that remain from the mehendi event three days ago.
“I ― “ Maya tries, completely thrown, “ I ― this looks incredible, “
“You’re welcome, “ replies Rhea, a genuine smile on her face as she places her hands on Maya’s shoulders, looking utterly lovely in her purple lehenga, “Now chal, we need to get going! Otherwise we’ll miss the saat phere!”
The three of them hurry downstairs, trying not to cause too much commotion as they grab seats in the back, just in time for the fire ceremony. Most of the guests look exhausted ― Maya spots her mother and Seema maasi sitting together at the front, ― but the aforementioned shirtless priest is at the stage, Karthik’s eyes glued to him as he ties the clothes of the bride and groom together.
It’s in preparation for one of the most important parts of a Hindu wedding ceremony ― saat phere, or ‘seven circumambulations’ in English, involving seven rounds around a consecrated fire amidst Vedic mantras. The bride and groom circle the fire seven times, reciting specific vows ( parikrama ) with each circuit. It’s similar to a vow ceremony at any given Christian wedding, the presence of fire linked to Agnideva, the God/Lord of fire, who is held as both witnessing and blessing the couple’s union.
Her stomach growls as the bride and groom start to make the first round of the ceremony, having been neglected since picking at her pulao last night. The haldi ceremony earlier had no food either, so it’s no surprise she’s utterly ravenous now.
However, Maya’s hunger ebbs away as she gazes at the ceremony, mind flitting back to the videotaped version of Nandini and Arjun’s. Their wedding itself had been a small affair ― as traditional as it could be with the limited budget and resources they had back then. But it was still beautiful in it’s own, intimate way. She still laughs at the part where Arjun accidentally trips over Nandini’s scarf, sending his turban directly into the fire
. Nevertheless, the pair still held a unique bond between them, and it’s still visible even years after the actual ceremony. The way they looked at each other . . . . after having gone through hell and back . . . tears shining in their eyes at finally being able to be together in peace. That’s what love should look like. Selfless, willing to go through anything as long as the other person is okay, never doing anything to deliberately hurt them. Your partner is literally giving you a piece of their heart, the most vital organ in their entire body . What kind of person are you if you don’t treat them with the utmost respect?
Will she ever have that someday? Maya thinks to herself, a flint of something hopeful growing in her heart, as the bride and groom circle the fire a final time, Passionate, all-consuming love. To feel something so intensely that you’re willing to sacrifice anything to make sure your better half is happy? To not think twice about risking your life for them?
Draco Malfoy’s face suddenly pops into her head; blond hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight, grey eyes piercing as they look into hers.
“ I trust you. I don’t know why, but I do”
Maya’s stomach flips over, and she banishes the thought from her head.
Not in a million years, will she ever let herself make that mistake again.
Chapter 22: Chapter 22
Chapter Text
𝕬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
THE SOUND OF STICKS HITTING EACH OTHER is what fills the training room, a week before Maya leaves for London.
“Argh!” Maya groans, rushing forward as Izzy dodges her hit yet again, “Why are you making this so hard?”
“You’re the one who told me that you wanted to learn how to fight like a Shadowhunter” replies Izzy. She jabs the spear under Maya’s legs, intending to trip her to the ground. However, the younger girl avoids her hit quickly, spinning away just in time, “Nice save, “
“I learned from the best, “ replies Maya, a telltale grin on her face; Izzy feels a hint of relief go through her at the telltale playfulness in the other girl’s tone. She sounds a bit more like her old self. Less detached from the people around her.
“Don’t get cocky, “ states Isabelle, aiming for Maya’s chest; she ducks just in time, but not fast enough, “Even though you’re exceptional at throwing knives, flattery will get you nowhere. You still need work when it comes to hand-to-hand combat.”
“What’s the fun if I can’t charm my opponent into giving up?” Maya quips, as both of them circle each other again. Izzy drops her spear off to the side, Maya copying her movements, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively “Come on, Iz, I know you can’t resist me . . . “
“As . . . interesting as your attempts to convince me are, “ says Isabelle, forcing down the snicker that threatens to escape her lips, “Beating you in a fight sounds more satisfying, “
“Challenge accepted, “
Maya immediately lunges forward, intending to tackle Izzy to the ground by her waist. However, Isabelle manages to catch her in time, throwing the other girl’s small figure over her head. Maya lands behind Izzy on her back, hitting the training mat hard enough to send a bolt of pain up her spine.
She doesn’t let it faze her, though; just before Isabelle can turn around, Maya grabs her ankle and yanks her down onto the mat, using her agility to quickly flip her over. She straddles her hips, putting down all her weight to keep her down as Izzy gasps, the air suddenly gone from her lungs. Suddenly, her knife is pressed into the throat of the latter, Maya smirking in victory as Isabelle squirms, unable to move in the other girl’s iron grip.
“You backstabber!” gasps Izzy, playfully, “You dare use my own techniques against me, Maya Rajesh?”
“I improved them, actually, “ Maya quips, snickering at the faux-shocked expression on Izzy’s face, “To suit my needs, “
“You’re impossible”
The two girls slowly untangle from each other, Maya wincing at the soreness in her arms and legs from training for two hours straight. She bends down, resting her hands on her knees, sucking in lungfuls of air that have her vision spinning at the edges.
“You okay?” questions Izzy, at Maya’s paleness, huffing and puffing in her post-workout soreness. Maya nods, steadying herself as she stands back up.
“Just a little sore” Maya replies, biting back a yawn, which Isabelle doesn’t miss.
“Have you been sleeping lately?” She unwraps the bandages from her knuckles, as Maya reties her ponytail, wiping off some of the sweat on her exposed torso, “You look tired”
“Dreamless Sleep potion did the trick yesterday, “ Maya puts the spears back in their hangings on the wall, avoiding the suspicious eyes of her best friend.
“I - I didn’t know that’s what you were using, “ Isabelle stutters, overcome with shock. Maya freezes, “You know it’s addictive . . . . . don’t you?”
“I don’t use it more than twice a week, “ Maya’s voice is tight, indicating that she wants the matter to end.
But you have nightmares almost every night Isabelle wants to say, but keeps her mouth shut, not wanting to push her friend more than needed.
“Well, since I kept up my end of the deal,” Maya groans, looking up at the ceiling as Izzy walks toward her, a devious grin on her face, “It’s your turn. You promised me a trip to Victoria’s secret . . . “
“Izzy-” Maya states, in warning.
“A deal’s a deal, Maya, “ Isabelle cuts her off, hands on her hips, “Shopping would do you some good, maybe give you a bit more confidence-”
“I don’t need fancy underwear!!” Maya hisses this out, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard her, “Iz, it’ll be an absolute waste of money. I don’t even have anyone to wear it for, “
“For the last time, Maya, it’s lingerie. “ Izzy looks mortally offended, rolling her eyes at the cluelessness, “ Ling-ger-ie. Have I taught you nothing? You don’t necessarily need people to know that you’re wearing it for the effect to work. It’s okay to want to feel sexy for yourself; It’s what I do half the time, “
“I’m not wearing a thong under my school skirt - “
“Thongs are - ugh, “ Izzy makes a disgusted sound, “But you promised. And you don’t even have to pay for it, we both know that I have enough money for both of us. Please, will you come with me?” She makes a pouting face with puppy-dog eyes, one that Maya knows will be her downfall.
“Fine” Maya grumbles, arms crossing over her chest, as Izzy squeals and claps her hands together.
“But buy me anything with crystals, and I’ll murder you, “
“I can’t believe it’s September first already, “
Maya nods at this statement, as they walk through Platform Nine and Three Quarters, barely listening to Diana. Her anxiety about the upcoming school year feels like a rope is wrapped around her chest, the noose growing tighter and tighter with the thought of all the possible things that could go wrong. She wipes her sweaty palms on her bell-sleeved, maroon shift dress, the chilly autumn breeze making the silky material ripple slightly as she walks, almost hiding behind Diana. Her tan ankle boots are heeled, making her slightly taller than usual, but she still looks puny compared to her blonde friend, who’s shot up in height due to her sudden growth spurt, reaching about 5’7” naturally.
In truth, it’s all a big ruse. The new dress, the shoes, even the makeup - which, mind you, isn’t much, Maya absolutely refused to let Izzy do anything other than simple eyeliner and a bit of cover-up to hide the dark circles under her eyes.
In truth, going back to school terrifies her.
But she has to, doesn’t she? No other school would take someone like Maya ― Ilvermorny explicitly said that they didn’t want a demonic hybrid on their grounds. The Kapadia Academy Of Magic was a bust, Mishraji ( the headmistress ) taking one look at her file and saying that she was too much of a safety hazard to other students to even consider being accepted. Beauxbatons and Durmstrang’s fees are impossible to afford. Mahutokoro never answered her letters. Castelobruxo and Uagadou are completely out of the question, considering how far away she’ll be and Koldovstoretz . . . . let’s not even talk about what happened with them. Nandini said it might be good for her, being with her “friends” ( whom she hasn’t heard from in months ) and Dumbledore has apparently installed new security measures on the grounds, given what happened last year. But her thinly veiled hope is just a disguise to mask the severity of the actual situation ― they don’t have another option.
The only good thing about this all is the prospect of being able to take Church with her. His cerulean eyes narrow judgementally at a number of the passerby, stopping at the familiar figure of Romilda Vane, who sneers at them as they walk past her. He hisses at her menacingly.
Good boy, Maya has the urge to coo but keeps her mouth shut so she doesn’t attract attention, scratching behind his ears instead.
“Have you read the papers lately?”
Maya jumps out of her numbed state, registering the lilting sound of Diana’s voice next to her.
"What?" she answers, blearily, voice sounding exhausted from how distracted she was moments before. Church nudges her palm with his head, meowing. Maya shushes him.
"The Prophet, " Diana's tone of voice is casual, but it's clear from the urgency of her words that what she's on about is serious, "You know what, never mind. It's probably better that you haven't, "
"Diana, what are you talking about?" questions Maya, flabbergasted.
"Nothing important" Diana stares off into space, expression suspiciously emotionless.
"Well it must be important if it's got you like this!"
"Just forget it, okay? It's better that you haven't heard anything; Your mind will be at peace, "
Maya groans, glaring at Diana out of the corner of her eye, deciding not to press on the issue further. She seems to be oddly serious and quiet today, for someone who's usually the life of the party. Church growls at the person who's caught Diana's attention, but it sounds more like an angry purr than anything else. Maya chuckles at the cute sound, petting the feline softly to calm him down, before looking straight ahead to see what's caught his attention.
The smile falls off of her face.
"And then Tracey decided to pour her fucking wine all over my dress, " Pansy rants, cuddled uncomfortably close to Draco as they stand on the platform, "So I had to leave in the middle of the ball and go change into this absolutely ghastly silver gown ― "
"Even more so than your face?" questions Blaise, an amused smirk on his dark face. Pansy scowls at him, then at Draco as the latter hides his snicker.
"No," she snaps, before continuing on with her rant, the words trailing off into space in Draco's mind.
Going back to Hogwarts doesn't feel like it used to. He doesn't feel the same sense of camaraderie from previous years, only a resounding stab of guilty emptiness in his chest. Dread creeps up his spine at the way Pansy's arm is tightly wrapped around his waist. It feels like a noose tightening around his ribs, bit by bit until they eventually cave in on themselves and shatter. He's tried to break it off with her so many times over the summer, but she never seems to take the hint, constantly pulling him into her suffocating presence. His friends have noticed, but decide to tease him about it instead of actually doing something to help. Prats.
"Damn, " Adrian wolf-whistles, leaning against a pillar; Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes, "Would you look at who just graced us with her presence?"
"Bugger off, " Draco mutters, rubbing his temples; He's not even close to being in the mood for this today.
"No, mate," Theo jabs a finger in front of himself, pointing straight ahead, "Look at her. I wouldn't mind getting some of that, t'be honest . . ."
Draco smiles, sardonically, in an attempt to humor his so-called friend.
"She's nothing special, " snaps Pansy, casting a disgusted glance in that particular direction, "Besides, Nott, what would your father think if he caught you sullying the bloodline with a warlock?"
Warlock? Alarm bells start to go off in Draco's head.
"Who says he has to know?" Theo wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"Boys" Daphne rolls her eyes in disgust, "All of you act like animals when it comes to women, "
"Hey!" Blaise looks mortally offended, "I never catcalled her!"
"You're still an idiot, Zabini, "
"Really, Greengrass?" Blaise fake-sobs the words out, clutching his chest, "Et tu?"
"Oh, shut up, " Daphne says the words dismissively, but Draco doesn't miss the faint tint of pink on her cheekbones as she turns away.
"Not bad, though, " Blaise observes'Mystery girl', in a more curious than desirous manner, "Lacking in the height department, but pretty if you discount that aspect. Her eyes are quite striking, "
"They're blue, aren't they?" questions Daphne, now interested in said girl, "Always thought that was weird, considering that her parents are supposed to be Indian ― probably a warlock thing. But they suit her, though, "
"Definitely, " agrees Blaise, confusing Draco further.
"Who are you even talking about?" he questions, part of his mind dreading the answer.
Daphne looks at him like he's grown two heads.
"You really haven't figured it out?" she questions, shaking her head, "Blue eyes, short, warlock, Indian. . . . doesn't that ring a bell for you, Malfoy?"
Draco's heart drops into his stomach.
"Bloody hell, " he mutters, finally letting himself look ahead.
Bloody hell indeed.
To say that she looks good is ― quite an understatement to say the least. Maya Rajesh, simply put, looks gorgeous. Absolutely so. In fact, it should be illegal to look that beautiful. It's as if an invisible veil has dropped between them; some small fabric that she used to hide behind. Draco's always secretly found her attractive, he admits this with no remorse. But her beauty used to be the quiet kind, the type that captivated only those who dared to look closely. A rose hidden in the farthest reach of gardens. She's not his type, definitely very out of range for someone who's only ever dated inside his social circle, but something about her just kept drawing his fourteen-year-old self closer. Her looks were hidden beneath layers of dismissal and unimportance, the farthest thing from her mind ― and his, to be honest. Now that he thinks about it, her hidden ferocity was probably what intrigued him first ― the adrenaline of playing with fire overtaking all rationality and causing Draco to follow his feelings deeper. Then her personality, her secrets, her looks, her heart . . . . .
A crush. A momentary lapse of judgment. That's all it was. He didn't completely fuck himself over ― he's smarter than that, Draco tells himself.
But these days, it surprises him how much his so-called intelligence has failed him.
There's no trace of the quiet, demure girl from the beginning of last year. Charcoal pencil lines her eyes, smudging them out with smoky darkness that sharpens the rest of her features in a way that can only be described as brash. Fiercely beautiful, out, and proud. A lioness in human form. His statement is only proven true by the deep red color of her dress, the golden of her layered necklaces glinting in the morning sunlight. It ends at her thighs in an entirely attractive way, one that makes blood rise to the forefront of Draco's cheeks.
Fucking hell, Draco thinks to himself, awed, those legs . . . .
The newfound curves of her body are further emphasized by the way she's standing, casually, one elbow leaned on Diana's shoulder as they chat about something he's too far away to hear. She isn't especially voluptuous ― not like Pansy, or any of the other well-known girls in their year ― but the slender, shapely frame that she now boasts makes his mouth go dry, only emphasized by the high-heeled boots that are her excuse for shoes today. And her lips . . . have they always looked that way? They somehow seem more rounded to him; in fact, every aspect of her appearance seems to have matured in an entirely flattering way.
But the moment Draco knows he's absolutely fucked is when their eyes meet. Her aquamarine hues register shock at first, then horror. But they bore into his with an intensity unmatched before. He's mesmerized by the way the silver seems to dance with the blue, like paint marbling together on a palette. She now looks guarded, a wall going up between them, an unreadable expression on her face as she turns back to Diana.
This is going to be a long year . . . Draco thinks to himself, resuming conversation with his friends . . . . One that is definitely not going according to plan . . . .
Fate smirks in his direction, unraveling her plans for yet another clusterfuck in the ostentatious life of Draco Malfoy.
'Hi, Luna.' says Ginny, as Maya's legs ache from what feels like hours searching for a decent compartment 'is it OK if we take these seats?'
The girl beside the window looks up. She has straggly, waist-length, dirty blonde hair, very pale eyebrows and protuberant eyes that give her a permanently surprised look. Maya at once knows why Neville wanted to pass over this compartment. The girl gives all an aura of distinct dottiness. Perhaps it's the fact that she has stuck her wand behind her left ear for safekeeping, or that she's chosen to wear a necklace of Butterbeer corks, or that she's reading a magazine upside-down. Her eyes range over Neville and come to rest on Harry. She nods.
Thanks,' says Ginny, smiling at her. Harry, Neville and Maya stow the four trunks and Hedwig's cage in the luggage rack and sit down. Church looks around curiously from Maya's lap. Luna watches them over her upside-down magazine, which is called The Quibbler. She does not seem to need to blink as much as normal humans. She stares and stares at Harry, who has taken the seat opposite her and now wears an expression of immense regret.
'Had a good summer, Luna?' Ginny asks.
'Yes,' says Luna dreamily, without taking her eyes off Harry. 'Yes, it was quite enjoyable, you know. You're Harry Potter,' she adds.
'I know I am,' says Harry
'You're Maya . . . . " Luna trails off, looking confused, "Rao? Rowle? Ryan?"
"Rajesh" Maya replies, stiffly, finding the butchering of her last name to be somewhat offensive. Luna's expression remains unchanged.
Neville chuckles. Luna turns her pale eyes on him instead. 'And I don't know who you are.'
'I'm nobody,' says Neville hurriedly.
'No you're not,' says Ginny sharply.
'Neville Longbottom — Luna Lovegood. Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw.'
'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure,' says Luna in a singsong voice.
She raises her upside-down magazine high enough to hide her face and fall silent. Harry and Neville look at each other with their eyebrows raised. Ginny suppresses a giggle. Maya looks down at the cat in her lap, willing him to give her the patience to survive this ordeal.
The train rattles onwards, speeding them out into open country. It's an odd, unsettled sort of day; one moment the carriage is full of sunlight and the next they're passing beneath ominously grey clouds.
'Guess what I got for my birthday?' says Neville.
'Another Remembrall?' says Harry, confusing Maya
'No,' says Neville. 'I could do with one, though, I lost the old one ages ago . . . no, look at this . . .' He digs the hand that's not keeping a firm grip on Trevor into his schoolbag and after a little bit of rummaging pulls out what appears to be a small grey cactus in a pot, except that it's covered with what looks like boils rather than spines. Maya grimaces at the sight. Church hisses at the plant, moving further into Maya, as if he expects her to protect him.
'Mimbulus mimbletonia,' he says proudly. Maya stares at the thing. It's pulsating slightly, giving it the rather sinister look of some diseased internal organ.
'It's really, really rare,' says Neville, beaming. 'I don't know if there's one in the greenhouse at Hogwarts, even. I can't wait to show it to Professor Sprout. My Great Uncle Algie got it for me in Assyria. I'm going to see if I can breed from it.'
Maya vaguely remembers that Neville's favorite subject is Herbology but for the life of her cannot see what he wants with this stunted little plant.
'Does it — er — do anything?' Harry asks, warily.
'Loads of stuff!' says Neville proudly. 'It's got an amazing defensive mechanism. Here, hold Trevor for me . . .'
He dumps the toad into Harry's lap and takes a quill from his schoolbag. Luna Lovegood's popping eyes appear over the top of her upside-down magazine again, to watch what Neville's doing.
Neville holds the Mimbulus mimbletonia up to his eyes, his tongue between his teeth, choosing his spot, and gives. the plant a sharp prod with the tip of his quill.
Liquid squirts from every boil on the plant; thick, stinking, dark green jets of it. They hit the ceiling, the windows, and splatter Luna Lovegood's magazine; Ginny, who had the foresight to fling her arms up in front of her face just in time, merely looks as though she's wearing a slimy green hat, but Harry, whose hands had been busy preventing Trevor's escape, receives a faceful. Maya shrieks, trying to cover herself, Church yowling and jumping up into the luggage rack above them.
Neville, whose face and torso are also drenched, shakes his head to get the worst out of his eyes.
'S — sorry,' he gasps. 'I haven't tried that before . . . didn't realise it would be quite so . . . don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous,' he adds nervously, as Harry spits a mouthful onto the floor. Maya is overcome by a sneezing fit, having to completely curl in on herself to make sure that the liquid doesn't go flying everywhere.
At that precise moment, the door of their compartment slides open.
'Oh . . . hello, Harry,' says a nervous voice. 'Uh . . . bad time?' H
Maya wipes her eyes with the hand not covered in Stinksap. A very pretty girl with long, shiny black hair is standing in the doorway smiling at Harry: Cho Chang, the Seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.
'Oh . . . hi,' says Harry blankly.
'Um . . .' says Cho. 'Well . . . just thought I'd say hello . . . bye then.'
Rather pink in the face, she closes the door and departed. Harry slumps back in his seat and groans. Maya would laugh at his reaction if she didn't feel like vomiting Stinksap
'Never mind,' says Ginny bracingly. 'Look, we can easily get rid of all this.' She pulls out her wand. 'Scourgify!'
The Stinksap vanishes, much to Maya's relief.
'Sorry.' says Neville again, in a small voice. Some of them nod in agreement; Maya just takes out a book to avoid the conversation.
Ron and Hermione do not turn up for nearly an hour, by which time the food trolley has already gone by. Maya happily treats herself to a cauldron cake, giving Church a stern look when he tries to charm her into giving him a piece. Harry, Ginny and Neville finish their pumpkin pasties and are busy swapping Chocolate Frog Cards when the compartment door slides open and Ron and Hermione walk in, accompanied by Crookshanks and a shrilly hooting Pigwidgeon in his cage.
'I'm starving,' says Ron, stowing Pigwidgeon next to Hedwig, grabbing a Chocolate Frog from Harry and throwing himself into the seat next to him. He rips open the wrapper, bites off the frog's head and leans back with his eyes closed as though he has had a very exhausting morning.
'Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house,' says Hermione, looking thoroughly disgruntled as she takes her seat. 'Boy and girl from each.'
'And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?' says Ron, still with his eyes closed.
Oh no, Maya thinks to herself, dread creeping into her stomach, Please don't tell me it's —
'Malfoy,' replies Harry at once, snarkily
'Course,' says Ron bitterly, stuffing the rest of the Frog into his mouth and taking another.
'And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson,' says Hermione viciously. 'How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll . . ."
"Snape must be mental if he chose them for the job" Maya mutters, darkly, scraping up the remnants of her cauldron cake with a spoon.
'Who are Hufflepuff's?' Harry asks.
'Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott,' says Ron thickly.
'And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw,' says Hermione.
'You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil,' says a vague voice. Everyone turns to look at Luna Lovegood, who is gazing unblinkingly at Ron over the top of The Quibbler. He swallows his mouthful of Frog.
'Yeah, I know I did,' he says, looking mildly surprised.
'She didn't enjoy it very much,' Luna informs him. 'She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded,' she adds thoughtfully, 'I don't like dancing very much.' She retreated behind The Quibbler again.
"You danced with Diana, didn't you?" Maya questions, a vague memory flitting into her head, "She told me about it a while back, "
A faint blush appears on Luna's cheekbones, but her voice remains dreamy.
"I did, now that I think about it, " Her tone is airy, but Maya detects a hint of hopefulness, "Nice, Diana is, quite pretty too . . . shame she's a Malfoy, otherwise . . . "
Ron stares at the cover with his mouth hanging open for a few seconds, then looks around at Ginny for some kind of explanation, but Ginny has stuffed her knuckles in her mouth to stop herself giggling. Maya bites her lip to hold in her laughter.
Diana would be mortified if she was here right now.
Ron shakes his head, bemused, then checks his watch.
'We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often,' he tells Harry and Maya, 'and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something . . . '
'You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!' says Hermione sharply. '
Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all,' retorts Ron, sarcastically.
'So you're going to descend to his level?'
'No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine.'
"It's not a competition, Ron" Maya shakes her head at him, amused.
'I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing,' says Ron, happily. He lowers his voice to Goyle's low grunt and, screwing up his face in a look of pained concentration, mimes writing in midair. 'I . . . must. . . not. . . look . . .like . . . a . . . baboon's . . . backside.'
Everyone laughs, but nobody laughs harder than Luna Lovegood. She lets out a scream of mirth that causes Hedwig to wake up and flap her wings indignantly and Church to leap back up into the luggage rack, hissing. Luna laughs so hard her magazine slips out of her grasp, slides down her legs and onto the floor.
'That was funny!'
Her prominent eyes swim with tears as she gasps for breath, staring at Ron. Utterly nonplussed, he looks around at the others, who are now laughing at the expression on Ron's face and at the ludicrously prolonged laughter of Luna Lovegood, who's rocking backwards and forwards, clutching her sides.
'Are you taking the mickey?' says Ron, frowning at her.
'Baboon's . . . backside!' she chokes, holding her ribs.
Everyone else is watching Luna laughing, but Maya, glancing at the magazine on the floor, notices something that makes her dive for it. Upside-down it's hard to tell what the picture on the front is, but Maya now realises that it's a fairly bad cartoon of Cornelius Fudge; She only recognises him because of the lime-green bowler hat. One of Fudges hands is clenched around a bag of gold; the other hand is throttling a goblin. The cartoon's captioned: How Far Will Fudge Go to Gain Gringotts? Beneath this are listed the titles of other articles inside the magazine.
Corruption in the Quidditch League: How the Tornados are Taking Control
Secrets of the Ancient Runes Revealed
Sirius Black: Villain or Victim?
'Can I have a look at this?' Maya asks Luna eagerly, Harry peering over her shoulder. She nods, still gazing at Ron, breathless with laughter. Maya opens the magazine and scans the index, flipping to the page of the last article. This, too, is illustrated by a rather bad cartoon; in fact, Maya wouldn't have known it was supposed to be Sirius if it hasn't been captioned. Sirius is standing on a pile of human bones with his wand out. The headline on the article says: SIRIUS — BLACK AS HE'S PAINTED?
Notorious mass murderer or innocent singing sensation? Harry had to read this first sentence several times before he was convinced that he had not misunderstood it. Since when had Sirius been a singing sensation? For fourteen years Sirius Black has been believed guilty of the mass murder of twelve innocent Muggles and one wizard. Black's audacious escape from Azkaban two years ago has led to the widest manhunt ever conducted by the Ministry of Magic. None of us has ever questioned that he deserves to be recaptured and handed back to the Dementors. BUT DOES HE? Startling new evidence has recently come to light that Sirius Black may not have committed the crimes for which he was sent to Azhaban. In fact, says Doris Purkiss, of 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton, Black may not even have been present at the killings. 'What people don't realise is that Sirius Black is a false name,' says Mrs Purkiss. 'The man people believe to be Sirius Black is actually Stubby Boardman, lead singer of popular singing group The Hobgoblins, who retired from public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall nearly fifteen years ago. I recognised him the moment I saw his picture in the paper. Now, Stubby couldn't possibly have committed those crimes, because on the day in question he happened to be enjoying a romantic candlelit dinner with me. I have written to the Minister for Magic and am expecting him to give Stubby, alias Sirius, a full pardon any day now.'
Maya finishes reading and stared at the page in disbelief. Maybe it's a joke, she thinks to herself, Maybe the magazine often prints satirical items. She flicks back a few pages and finds the piece on Fudge.
Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to take over the running of the Wizarding Bank, Gringotts, when he was elected Minister for Magic five years ago. Fudge has always insisted that he wants nothing more than to 'co-operate peacefully' with the guardians of our gold. BUT DOES HE? Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that Fudge's dearest ambition is to seize control of the goblin gold supplies and that he will not hesitate to use force if need be. 'It wouldn't be the first time, either,' said a Ministry insider. 'Cornelius "Goblin-Crusher" Fudge, that's what his friends call him. If you could hear him when he thinks no one's listening, oh, he's always talking about the goblins he's had done in; he's had them drowned, he's had them dropped off buildings, he's had them poisoned, he's had them cooked in pies . . .'
Maya does not read any further. Fudge might have many faults but Maya finds it extremely hard to imagine him ordering goblins to be cooked in pies. She flicks through the rest of the magazine. Pausing every few pages, Maya reads: an accusation that the Tutshill Tornados are winning the Quidditch League by a combination of blackmail, illegal broom-tampering and torture; an interview with a wizard who claims to have flown to the moon on a Cleansweep Six and brought back a bag of moon frogs to prove it; and an article on ancient runes which at least explains why Luna was reading The Quibbler upside-down. According to the magazine, if you turn the runes on their heads they reveal a spell to make your enemy's ears turn into kumquats. In fact, compared to the rest of the articles in The Quibbler, the suggestion that Sirius might really be the lead singer of The Hobgoblins is quite sensible.
'Anything good in there?' asks Ron as Maya closes the magazine.
'Of course not,' says Hermione scathingly, before Maya can answer, "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."
'Excuse me,' says Luna; her voice has suddenly lost its dreamy quality. 'My father's the editor.'
'I — oh,' says Hermione; Maya can feel the secondhand embarrassment from where she's sitting, 'Well . . . it's got some interesting . . . I mean, it's quite —'
"I'll have it back, thank you,' says Luna coldly, and leaning forwards she snatches it out of Harry's hands. Riffling through it to page fifty-seven, she turns it resolutely upside-down again and disappears behind it, just as the compartment door opens for the third time.
Maya looks around; She's expected this, but that does not make the sight of Draco Malfoy smirking at them from between his cronies Crabbe and Goyle any more enjoyable.
'What?" says Harry, aggressively, before Malfoy can open his mouth.
'Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention,' drawls Malfoy, whose sleek blond hair falls over his forehead in a manner that sends a strange feeling through Maya's lower abdomen. 'You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.'
'Yeah,' snaps Maya, sarcasm dripping from her tone, 'but you, unlike him, are a git, so get out and leave us alone.'
Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny and Neville laugh. Malfoy's smirk lessens; he almost looks hurt by her words.
"All bark and no bite, aren't you Rajesh?" chortles Crabbe, to her displeasure, glancing at the cat in her lap, "What's that little fur coat you've got there?"
"His name is Church, " Maya snaps, very much done with this conversation, training her eyes on the blond Slytherin "And Malfoy here knows all about my biting skills. Why don't you ask him if you want a proper answer?"
Gasps titter from the compartment around them; Malfoy looks at her with shock, not believing such a thing would come out of her mouth. Her thirteen-year-old self would have been shocked if notified that Maya had even said such a scandalous thing, being the sheltered child that she was.
But things are different now.
This year, Maya isn't going to let anybody put her down, relations be damned. Especially the one who betrayed her at her most vulnerable.
His eyes harden as he looks at her further, Ron and Ginny snickering behind him. Maya offers him a sardonic smirk, leaning back in her seat as she crosses her legs over each other in a show of leverage. His eyes flit to them for a second, heated, before coming back to meet her eyes.
The rules of the game have changed. And for once, Maya's the victorious one instead of him. It gives her a strange type of power that she's never experienced before.
And Merlin help her, she loves it.
'He's not there.'
Ron and Hermione scan the staff table, though there's no real need; Hagrid's size makes him instantly obvious in any lineup.
'He can't have left,' says Ron, sounding slightly anxious.
'Of course he hasn't,' says Maya, firmly, surprised at her newfound confidence.
'You don't think he's . . . hurt, or anything, do you?' says Hermione uneasily.
'No,' says Harry at once. 'But where is he, then?'
There's a pause, then Harry says very quietly, so that Neville, Parvati and Lavender cannot hear, 'Maybe he's not back yet. You know — from his mission — the thing he was doing over the summer for Dumbledore.'
'Yeah . . . yeah, that'll be it,' says Ron, sounding reassured, but Hermione bites her lip, looking up and down the staff table as though hoping for some conclusive explanation of Hagrid's absence.
'Who's that?' she says, sharply, pointing towards the middle of the staff table. Maya's eyes follow hers. They light first upon Professor Dumbledore, sitting in his high-backed golden chair at the centre of the long staff table, wearing deep-purple robes scattered with silvery stars and a matching hat. Dumbledore's head is inclined towards the woman sitting next to him, who was talking into his ear.
She looks, Maya thinks, like a fancy pincushion: squat, with short, curly, mouse-brown hair in which she has placed a horrible pink Alice band that matches the fluffy pink cardigan she wore over her robes. Then she turns her face slightly to take a sip from her goblet and Maya sees a pallid, toadlike face and a pair of prominent, pouchy eyes.
'It's that Umbridge woman!' Harry exclaims, shocked.
'Who?' says Maya, confused.
'She was at my hearing, she works for Fudge!'
'Nice cardigan,' says Ron, smirking.
'She works for Fudge!' Hermione repeats, frowning. 'What on earth's she doing here, then?'
'Dunno . . .' Hermione scans the staff table, her eyes narrowed. 'No,' she muttered, 'no, surely not . . .'
Maya doesn't understand what she's talking about but doesn't ask; her attention returns to feed her growling stomach. One cauldron cake on the train was definitely not enough to keep a fourteen-year-old girl satisfied, and Maya soon finds herself devouring a plate of macaroni and cheese. The candles dim as she takes a spoon of her dessert — blueberry crumble, and Dumbledore finally gets to his feet. Talking ceases immediately as all turn to face the Headmaster. Maya feels pleasantly drowsy now. Her four-poster bed is waiting somewhere above, wonderfully warm and soft . . .
Maybe this will be the night when she finally manages a good eight hours of sleep.
"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,' says Dumbledore. 'First years ought to know that the Forest in the grounds is out-of-bounds to students — and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.' ( Harry, Ron and Hermione exchange smirks.) 'Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four-hundred�and-sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr Filch's office door."
"We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.' There's a round of polite but fairly unenthusiastic applause, during which the four of them exchange slightly panicked looks; Dumbledore has not said for how long Grubbly-Plank will be teaching.
Dumbledore continues, 'Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the — '
He breaks off, looking enquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she's not much taller standing than sitting, there's a moment when nobody understands why Dumbledore has stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge clears her throat with an irritating 'Hem, hem,' and it becomes clear that she has gotten to her feet and is intending to make a speech. Dumbledore only looks taken aback for a moment, then he sits down smartly and looks alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desires nothing better than to listen to her talk. Other members of staff are not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows have disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth is as thin as Maya has ever seen it. No new teacher has ever interrupted Dumbledore before, apparently. Many of the students are smirking; this woman obviously does not know how things are done at Hogwarts.
"Thank you, Headmaster," Professor Umbridge simpers, 'for those kind words of welcome.' Her voice is high-pitched, breathy and little-girlish and, again, Maya feels a powerful rush of dislike that she cannot explain; all she knows is that she loathes everything about her, from her stupid voice to her fluffy pink cardigan. The woman gives another little throat-clearing cough ('hem, hem') that makes Maya want to flick her away from the stage and continues.
"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiles, revealing very pointed teeth. 'And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!' Maya glances around. None of the faces she can see look happy. On the contrary, they all look rather taken-aback at being addressed as though they're five years old.
'I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!'
Students exchange looks at this; some of them are barely concealing grins.
'I'll be her friend as long as I don't have to borrow that cardigan,' Parvati whispers to Lavender, and both of them lapse into silent giggles.
Professor Umbridge clears her throat again ('hem, hem'), but when she continues, some of the breathiness has vanished from her voice.
She sounds much more businesslike and now her words have a dull, learned-by-heart sound to them.
"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and toned by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching."
Professor Umbridge pauses here and makes a little bow to her fellow staff members, none of whom bow back to her. Professor McGonagall's dark eyebrows have contracted so that she looks positively hawklike, and Maya distinctly sees her exchange a significant glance with Professor Sprout as Umbridge gives another little 'hem, hem' and goes on with her speech.
"Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation . . ."
Maya finds her attentiveness ebbing, as though her brain is slipping in and out of tune. The quiet that always fills the Hall when Dumbledore is speaking breaks up, as students put their heads together, whispering and giggling. Over on the Ravenclaw table Cho Chang is chatting animatedly with her friends. A few seats along from Cho, Luna Lovegood has got out The Quibbler again. Meanwhile, at the Hufflepuff table Ernie Macmillan is one of the few still staring at Professor Umbridge, but he was glassy-eyed and Maya is sure he's only pretending to listen in an attempt to live up to the new prefect's badge gleaming on his chest. Professor Umbridge does not seem to notice the restlessness of her audience. Maya gets the impression that a full-scale riot could break out under her nose and she will plough on with her speech. The teachers, however, are still listening very attentively, and Hermione seems to be drinking in every word Umbridge speaks, though, judging by her expression, they are not at all to her taste.
'. . . because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.'
She sits down. Dumbledore claps. The staff follow his lead, though Maya notices that several of them bring their hands together only once or twice before stopping. A few students join in, but most have been taken unaware by the end of the speech, not having listened to more than a few words of it, and before they can start applauding properly, Dumbledore stands up again.
"Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating," he says, bowing to her. 'Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held . . ."
'Yes, it certainly was illuminating,' says Hermione in a low voice.
'You're not telling me you enjoyed it?' Ron says, quietly, turning a glazed face towards Hermione. 'That was about the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy."
"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," says Hermione. 'It explained a lot.'
'Did it?' says Harry in surprise. 'Sounded like a load of waffle to me.'
"There was some important stuff hidden in the waffle," says Hermione grimly.
'Was there?' says Ron, blankly.
'How about: "progress for progress's sake must be discouraged"? How about: "pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited"?
"Well, what does that mean?' says Maya, confused.
'I'll tell you what it means,' says Hermione, through gritted teeth. "It means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."
She wakes up in a cold sweat that night, not more than ten minutes past two.
Maya doesn't know what triggered her nightmares this time; maybe it's the stress of the day that caught her off guard, the anxiety over seeing her friends again, or the confusion of what exactly is going on with her new DADA professor. All she feels is a horrible, pounding pain in her chest, magnified by the sharp pain in her back and collarbones. Her shoulders are shaking, and it takes all of her energy not to scream into her pillow right then and there.
Or rather, it did.
Her bare feet softly patter on the stairs, heading towards the Prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor. She remembers where it is thanks to Harry's whole "cracking-the-egg" mission last year. A towel and a change of clothes lie in her hands, to be used after her sorrows have been stewed in a bath full of fragrant bubbles. Baths are the only way to feel semi-normal after these instances, Maya's noticed, a non-destructive way to calm her raw nerves for a little while.
Even if it's the middle of the night.
Eventually, Maya finally manages to find the bathroom, uttering the password "Lemon Sour" in order to be able to get in. The entire place is the stuff of fantasies, fully covered in white marble. A huge, swimming-pool like tub lies in the center, water already halfway filled from a running spout. Maya opens one of the jeweled taps, and watches in fascination as thick white foam pours out of it.
What she wouldn't give to have one of these at home.
As the water fills the rest of the tub, Maya undresses, stripping down to nothing as she slowly climbs into the tub. The silky water is deliciously warm, some sort of lavender-scented oil mixed in, enveloping her in it's cocoon-like embrace. She sighs, happily, mind being soothed for a few seconds by the peace of the atmosphere around her.
It's moments like these where Maya feels semi-normal — the chaos in her head silenced briefly in such a peaceful environment. She gently floats on the surface, crossing her arms behind her head, the muscles in her back slowly relaxing with every waking moment. Maya closes her eyes, leaning back and briefly submerging her scalp into the water, hair fully infused with the foam that envelops the top of the pool.
Being naked like this is freeing for her. Maya hasn't really paid much attention to her body in the past — not that there was much to look at anyway. She always used to sport more of a boyish, athletic figure — skinny, flat chest, no hips or ass to speak of. It was easy to forget about her body in jeans and t-shirts, too busy running around and wreaking havoc with her friends to feel insecure about her appearance. But being at Hogwarts has evoked something of a change within her — in the fourth year, Maya found herself noticing how different she looked compared to all the other girls here. Most had already hit puberty, curves starting to appear on their previously unassuming figures. This summer seems to have worked wonders for her, Maya thinks to herself, looking down at her naked figure. Her breasts still aren't big, but they're sizeable enough to be proportionate to the rest of her body. Her hips have rounded, widening slightly, and there are lovely lines on her abdomen, skin stretched over the hard muscle beneath. Her legs are what she likes the most, long and shapely, strong but still slender, quite pretty to look at in their natural state.
If you ignore the scars, Maya supposes it's safe to say that she looks pretty banging, for someone who constantly feels like she's two steps from hell.
A dull peace soon radiates over her, and Maya finds herself slipping back into drowsiness, this time, with nothing major on her mind. She supposes she couldn't have found a more perfect place to fall asleep, soft sounds of the bubbles around her, a portrait of a mermaid sleeping in her cave. Her eyes flutter shut on their own.
Maybe this year won't be so bad.
In her sleepy state, Maya doesn't hear the door open.
The wet sound of footsteps is what scares her awake. Maya opens her eyes, confused. Did someone just walk in?
She sits up slightly, rubbing her eyes as her vision blurs from lack of sleep. Who would even be up at this hour except her? Mrs. Norris, maybe?
The person standing on the other side of the tub is definitely not a cat.
Draco Malfoy's look of shock barely registers in Maya's head as she freezes, suddenly. He looks as though he just got out of bed, hair ruffled, a towel wrapped over one arm as he stares at her, half-curious, half-confused. Maya doesn't even dare to breathe when his eyes are on her, suddenly realizing that she's very, very vulnerable without her wand.
And also very, very stark naked. In front of her sworn enemy no less.
There's a tense silence in which neither of them dare to speak, not knowing how to even comprehend the situation lying in front of them.
Maya breaks it by screaming horrifically loud.
"WHAT THE FUCK, MALFOY?!?!?"
ngl this is my best comedic work to date. also sorry for the slow updates, school's coming up soon and i've been stressed lately <3
Chapter 23: Chapter 23
Chapter Text
𝕾𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
“GET OUT!!” Maya shrieks, covering her naked body with the bubbles around her. They do almost nothing to hide her nakedness, simply dissolving and fizzling on her skin.
Malfoy, to her surprise, looks more uncomfortable than curious. Maya shifts, crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to cover herself up, cheeks aflame with pure horror. Really? Just when she finally felt relaxed ( for the first time in months, mind you ) he had to walk in?
Magnus always told her that nothing happens without a reason, that the Angels work in mysterious days, their motives not to be questioned without repercussions. But she can’t help but wonder how exactly their ‘unquestionable’ reasoning led to this. What use does standing naked in front of Draco Malfoy do? Other than one she would very much like not to think about . . . .
“You aren’t even supposed to be here!” he retorts, miffed; Maya sees his eyes trace down the thin white scar going across her collarbone, “It’s called the Prefect’s bathroom for a reason, “
“Oh, yeah?” yells Maya, still very red in the face; screaming, “Well I was here first, and I’m stark naked, so leave, Malfoy!!”
“Oh, calm down, “ He rolls his eyes, much to Maya’s indignation, “I’m sure we can both use this bathroom without making things weird, “
“They already are, “ Maya isn’t sure whether she’s referring to this situation or the past, protectively wrapping her arms around herself, “Go away, otherwise I’ll throw you out myself!”
He has the audacity to look amused.
“I’d like to see you try”
Maya does not know what comes over her in the next few minutes.
Her anger is suddenly amplified by ten. How dare he . . . . . how dare he stand there and look so smug at putting her down?! After what he did to her, what he allowed to be done to her, how dare he stand there and pretend that they’re just bickering children again?! A hot rush of fury envelops her, and suddenly Maya wants to scream from beneath her gritted teeth. She feels as though she’s going to explode with rage.
What does explode, however, is her magic. Unrestrained for once, the lines beneath her powers and her emotions begin to blur in an unsettling way, and Maya soon realizes that the burning sensation behind her eyes isn’t because of the urge to tear up. It rapidly spreads down her face, over her chest and collarbones, down her arms, until it feels like molten lava has been injected underneath her skin. The pain is so sudden, smoldering with such intensity that the world around her stops spinning for a second.
Suddenly, the magic rips away from her, Maya screaming as it blows apart the ceramic taps around her. Her body feels like it's on fire, the sheer intensity of the magic scorching the tender nerves underneath her skin. Porcelain flies everywhere, some of the shards barely missing Maya. She can't make out where Malfoy is anymore; Maya rapidly ducks underwater to avoid getting hit by the wreckage that's currently flying around the room. She keeps her ears open, listening to the telltale echo of breaking glass and pipes. Her heart hammers violently in her chest, squeezing tight with dread and fear.
What has she done?
As far as she can remember, Maya's never lost control like this before. She knows how to control her powers; hell, she's spent practically her entire life learning to perfect her craft. Warlock magic is incredibly powerful, especially when rooted in demonic energy. In the wrong hands, it could wreak destructive havoc. Never let your emotions mix with your magic. It's one of the cardinal rules you're expected to follow when you have abilities like hers.
Apparently, all common sense has slipped her mind today.
Finally, when she hears the noises subside, Maya quietly resurfaces, the burning in her lungs subsiding as she takes a large inhale. Her skin still tingles with the aftershocks of the accident; Maya swears she sees her fingertips sparking purple and blue. But that's nothing compared to the sight in front of her.
In fact, the damage isn't even that bad. Sure, some of the taps are gone, broken off from their places on the side of the tub, and the marble is chipped here and there. But at least there was no earthquake triggered by her momentary lapse of judgment ( yes, those happen ). Nothing's collapsed, no windows have been blown apart, no pillars knocked over. In fact, it looks relatively tame compared to what could have happened.
The real damage, however, has been done to the boy who had the misfortune to walk in on her moments prior. Maya gapes at him in shock for a few seconds; she doesn't know how to believe what's just happened.
Draco Malfoy is covered ―― and she means covered ―― in almost five different types of foam from the bubble bath. There's lilac bubbles fizzing in his hair, thick white froth splattering some of his face, blue foam covering most of his chest, and other types of bath product that she doesn't have the brain cells to name at this moment. All she knows is that he looks terrified ―― of her or the explosion, she can't tell ―― grey eyes big and wide with fear. She sees him drop the towel he was holding moments prior, backing away with his hands outstretched in front of him.
" I'll ―― " he stammers, stumbling over his words; Maya feels agonizing guilt wash over her with how scared he looks, "I'm so sorry ―― I'll ―― I'm just gonna ―― "
"Malfoy ―― " Maya stutters out, her hand stretching out to tell him to wait, "I ―― "
"I'll go ―― d-don't worry, " he stammers out, unlocking the door behind him and literally bolting away. Maya hears his footsteps running a mad dash down the corridor, disappearing out of sight after a few moments.
Maya floats there for a few moments, rooted to the spot, half-shocked, half-terrified. Her brain refuses to process anything, psyche running around in circles over one statement that constantly replays itself in her head.
What the fuck has she just done?
And how the fuck is she going to deal with the aftermath?
srry for the length, been going through some stuff recently and thought this was enough. promise the next chapters will be longer <3
Chapter 24: Chapter 24
Chapter Text
𝕾𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
"AND HE JUST RAN AWAY?" Diana questions, as the pale, early-morning sunlight flits into their dormitory through the open curtains; Maya rubs her eyes as she wraps the Gryffindor tie around her shirt collar, knotting it, "Covered in foam?"
"He looked terrified of me, " Maya mutters, agonizing guilt rushing through her as she magically untangles her hair, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at the horrifying memories of the previous night.
"To be fair, he kind of deserved it, " states Diana, scoffing at Maya's indignant look, "What? Just because he's my brother doesn't mean I'm going to make excuses for his asshole decisions. And besides, you're still new to the whole warlock thing. You couldn't prevent what happened, "
"Still . . . . " Maya mutters, walking over to the mirror. She wordlessly levitates a stick of navy-blue liner, and with a flick of her wrist, her azure hues are adorned with the substance. It makes her eyes look darker, entrancing in a way that sort of roots her to the ground, reminding her of who she is. Maya bites back a grin, turning back to Diana.
"How do I look?" she gestures to the newfound makeup.
Diana smirks.
"Beautiful as ever"
'What's the matter?' asks Hermione to Harry, five minutes later, as Maya and Diana join her, catching up with him and Ron halfway across the common room as they all head towards breakfast.
'You look absolutely — Oh for heavens sake.' She stares at the common-room noticeboard, where a large new sign has been put up.
GALLONS OF GALLEONS!
Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?
Like to earn a little extra gold?
Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room,
for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs.
(We regret that all work is undertaken at applicant's own risk.)
"What are they, running a pyramid scheme?" Maya chuckles, wondering what exactly the twins are up to this time.
'They are the limit,' says Hermione grimly, taking down the sign, which Fred and George have pinned up over a poster giving the date of the first Hogsmeade weekend, which is to be in October. 'We'll have to talk to them, Ron.'
Ron looks positively alarmed. 'Why?'
'Because we're prefects!' says Hermione, as they climb out through the portrait hole. 'It's up to us to stop this kind of thing!'
Ron says nothing; Maya can tell from his glum expression that the prospect of stopping Fred and George doing exactly what they like is not one he finds inviting.
'Anyway, what's up, Harry?' Hermione continues, as they walk down a flight of stairs lined with portraits of old witches and wizards, all of whom ignore them, being engrossed in their own conversation. 'You look really angry about something.'
'Seamus reckons Harry's lying about You-Know-Who,' says Ron succinctly, when Harry does not respond. Maya suddenly feels a violent twisting sensation in her stomach at the memory, almost lurching over from how intense it is. Diana is the only one who notices, reaching out and squeezing her hand.
. . . . . "Because Belial wants his daughter back, " replies Voldemort, cooly examining the veins that run over his knuckles, "And he's promised to pay me a hefty sum of wraith demons if I deliver you in one piece" . . . . .
Ice pools in her chest, spiking in the deep regions of her belly.
She doesn't belong here.
Hermione's voice fades back in. 'Yes, Lavender thinks so too,' she says gloomily. '
'Been having a nice little chat with her about whether or not I'm a lying, attention-seeking prat, have you?' Harry says loudly.
'Oh, for Merlin's sake, Harry ― " Maya finds her voice, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.
'No,' says Hermione calmly. 'I told her to keep her big fat mouth shut about you, actually. And it would be quite nice if you stopped jumping down our throats, Harry, because in case you haven't noticed, we're all on your side.'
There's a short pause. 'Sorry,' says Harry in a low voice.
That's quite all right,' says Diana, primly, adjusting her black hairband. Maya awkwardly twirls a strand of her short hair around her finger.
Then Hermione shakes her head,'Don't you remember what Dumbledore said at the last end-of-term feast?'
Harry and Ron both look at her blankly and Hermione sighs again. 'About You-Know-Who. He said his "gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally strong bond of friendship and trust — "
' 'How do you remember stuff like that?' asks Ron, looking at her in admiration.
'I listen, Ron,' says Hermione, with a touch of asperity.
'So do I, but I still couldn't tell you exactly what — ' Maya starts indignantly, but Hermione cuts her off.
The point,' Hermione presses on loudly, 'is that this sort of thing is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about. You-Know-Who's only been back two months and we've already started fighting among ourselves. And the Sorting Hat's warning was the same: stand together, be united — '
'And Harry got it right last night,' retorts Ron. 'If that means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins — fat chance.'
A fleeting memory of last nights hits Maya, and she looks down, trying not to make eye contact with anyone for fear that they may accidentally read her mind and find out the truth.
'Well, I think it's a pity we're not trying for a bit of inter-house unity,' says Hermione crossly. They reach the foot of the marble staircase. A line of fourth-year Ravenclaws are crossing the Entrance Hall; they catch sight of Harry and tense, but when Maya appears, all of them hurry to form a tighter group, as though frightened that she might attack stragglers. She feels something in her chest sink.
'Yeah, we really ought to be trying to make friends with people like that,' says Harry sarcastically. Maya couldn't agree with him more
They follow the Ravenclaws into the Great Hall, all looking instinctively at the staff table as they enter. Professor Grubbly-Plank is chatting to Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, and Hagrid is once again conspicuous only by his absence. The enchanted ceiling above them echoes Maya's mood; it's a miserable rain-cloud grey.
'Dumbledore didn't even mention how long that Grubbly-Plank woman's staying,' says Harry, as they make their way across to the Gryffindor table.
'Maybe . . .' says Hermione thoughtfully.
'What?' say both Harry and Ron together.
'Well . . . maybe he didn't want to draw attention to Hagrid not being here.'
'What d'you mean, draw attention to it?' says Ron, half-laughing. 'How could we not notice?'
Before Hermione can answer, a tall black girl with long braided hair marches up to Harry.
'Hi, Angelina.' Harry starts.
'Hi,' she says, briskly, 'good summer?'
And without waiting for an answer, 'Listen, I've been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.'
'Nice one,' says Harry, grinning at her.
'Yeah, well, we need a new Keeper now Oliver's left. Tryouts are on Friday at five o'clock and I want the whole team there, all right? Then we can see how the new person'll fit in.'
'OK,' says Harry. Angelina smiled at him and turns to Maya.
'You should come, Maya, " she chirps, enthusiastically, "You have the perfect build for a spare seeker'
'I think I'll stay off of brooms for now, ' replies Maya, warily, 'I have a fear of heights, '
Angelina shakes her head, "Well, tell me if you ever change your mind. We could always use the extra help, "
'I'd forgotten Wood had left,' says Hermione vaguely as they all sit down, Angelina walking away 'I suppose that will make quite a difference to the team?'
'I s'pose,' says Harry, taking the bench opposite. 'He was a good Keeper . . .'
'Still, it won't hurt to have some new blood, will it?' says Ron.
With a whoosh and a clatter, hundreds of owls come soaring in through the upper windows. They descend all over the Hall, bringing letters and packages to their owners and showering the breakfasters with droplets of water; it's clearly raining hard outside. Twix, Magnus's owl, is nowhere to be seen, but Maya suspects that he's busy dealing with the aftermath of the downworlder raid yesterday. Hermione, however, has to move her orange juice aside quickly to make way for a large damp barn owl bearing a sodden Daily Prophet in its beak.
What are you still getting that for?' says Harry, irritably, probably thinking of Rita Skeeter as Hermione places a Knut in the leather pouch on the owl's leg and it takes off again. 'I'm not bothering . . . load of rubbish.'
'It's best to know what the enemy is saying,' says Hermione darkly, and she unfurls the newspaper and disappears behind it, not emerging until the other four of them have finished eating.
'Nothing,' she says, simply, rolling up the newspaper and laying it down by her plate. 'Nothing about you or Dumbledore or Maya or anything.'
Professor McGonagall moves along the table handing out timetables.
'Look at today!' groans Ron. 'History of Magic, double Potions, Divination and double Defence Against the Dark Arts . . . Binns, Snape, Trelawney and that Umbridge woman all in one day! I wish Fred and George'd hurry up and get those Skiving Snackboxes sorted . . ."
'Do mine ears deceive me?' says Fred, arriving with George and squeezing on to the bench beside Maya. 'Hogwarts prefects surely don't wish to skive off lessons?'
'Look what we've got today,' says Ron grumpily, shoving his timetable under Fred's nose. 'That's the worst Monday I've ever seen.'
'Fair point, little bro,' says Fred, scanning the column. 'You can have a bit of Nosebleed Nougat cheap if you like.'
'Why's it cheap?' says Ron suspiciously.
'Because you'll keep bleeding till you shrivel up, we haven't got an antidote yet,' says George, helping himself to a kipper.
Diana and Maya give each other a look, the corner of the Hufflepuff's mouth twisting in mirth.
'Cheers,' says Ron moodily, pocketing his timetable, 'but I think I'll take the lessons.'
'And speaking of your Skiving Snackboxes,' says Hermione, eyeing Fred and George beadily, 'you can't advertise for testers on the Gryffindor noticeboard.'
'Says who?' says George, looking astonished.
'Says me,' says Hermione. 'And Ron.'
'Leave me out of it,' says Ron hastily. Hermione glares at him. Fred and George snigger.
'You'll be singing a different tune soon enough, Hermione,' says Fred, thickly buttering a crumpet. 'You're starting your fifth year, you'll be begging us for a Snackbox before long.'
'And why would starting fifth year mean I want a Skiving Snackbox?' asks Hermione.
'Fifth year's OWL year,' says George.
'So?'
'So you've got your exams coming up, haven't you? They'll be keeping your noses so hard to that grindstone they'll be rubbed raw,' says Fred with satisfaction.
'Half our year had minor breakdowns coming up to OWLs,' says George happily. Tears and tantrums . . . Patricia Stimpson kept coming over faint . . .'
'Kenneth Towler came out in boils, d'you remember?' says Fred remiscently.
'That's 'cause you put Bulbadox powder in his pyjamas,' says George.
'Oh yeah,' says Fred, grinning. 'I'd forgotten . . . hard to keep track sometimes, isn't it?'
'Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth,' says George. 'If you care about exam results, anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our peckers up somehow.'
'Yeah . . . you got, what was it, three OWLs each?' says Ron.
'Yep,' says Fred unconcernedly. 'But we feel our futures lie outside the world of academic achievement.'
'We seriously debated whether we were going to bother coming back for our seventh year,' says George brightly, 'now that we've got — now that we've got our OWLs,' he finishes hastily, with a pointed look at Harry. 'I mean, do we really need NEWTs? But we didn't think Mum could take us leaving school early not on top of Percy turning out to be the world's biggest prat.'
'We're not going to waste our last year here, though,' says Fred, looking affectionately around at the Great Hall. 'We're going to use it to do a bit of market research, find out exactly what the average Hogwarts student requires from a joke shop, carefully evaluate the results of our research, then produce products to fit the demand.'
'But where are you going to get the gold to start a joke shop?' Hermione asks, sceptically. 'You're going to need all the ingredients and materials — and premises too, I suppose . . .' Harry drops his fork under the table at this, looking suspiciously red in the face.
Fred takes no notice, coolly replying, 'Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies, Hermione. C'mon, George, if we get there early we might be able to sell a few Extendable Ears before Herbology.'
Harry emerges from under the table to see Fred and George walking away, each carrying a stack of toast. Maya picks at her eggs, not having much of an appetite to begin with.
'What did that mean?' says Hermione, looking from Harry to Maya. ' "Ask us no questions . . ." Does that mean they've already got some gold to start a joke shop?'
'You know, I've been wondering about that,' says Ron, his brow furrowed. 'They bought me a new set of dress robes this summer and I couldn't understand where they got the Galleons . . .'
Harry abruptly changes the subject. 'D'you reckon it's true this year's going to be really tough? Because of the exams?'
'Oh, yeah,' said Ron. 'Bound to be, isn't it? OWLs are really important, affect the jobs you can apply for and everything. We get career advice, too, later this year, Bill told me. So you can choose what NEWTs you want to do next year.'
'D'you know what you want to do after Hogwarts?' Harry asks the other four of them, as they leave the Great Hall shortly afterwards and set off towards their History of Magic classroom.
'Not really,' said Ron slowly. 'Except . . . well . . .' He looks slightly sheepish.
'What?' Harry urges him.
'Well, it'd be cool to be an Auror,' says Ron in an off-hand voice.
'Yeah, it would,' says Harry fervently.
'But they're, like, the elite,' says Ron. 'You've got to be really good. What about you, Hermione?'
'I don't know,' she says. 'I think I'd like to do something really worthwhile.'
'An Aurors worthwhile!' says Harry.
'Yes, it is, but it's not the only worthwhile thing,' says Hermione thoughtfully, 'I mean, if I could take SPEW further . . .' Harry and Ron carefully avoid looking at each other. Maya rolls her eyes at both of them.
"Maya?" Harry questions.
Maya thinks for a second, about the murky waters of her future that lie after the next two years of school. She's still not certain about what she wants to do, but Maya knows for sure that it has to involve writing, in a way at least.
"I don't really know, " she rambles, "I mean ――― I know for sure that I want to write. I've loved creating scenarios in my head since I was a kid. But being an author doesn't pay much, so I guess going into journalism would be nice? I don't really know as of now, I guess I'll figure it out this year,"
"You want to be a reporter?" Ron furrow his eyebrows. Maya feels a stab of insecurity in her chest.
"I think, " she says, slowly, "Why?"
"Nothing . . . " Ron muses, looking up at the ceiling, "It's an interesting job, considering your . . . . . circumstances, "
"Ron!!" Hermione hisses, jabbing him in the ribs as Maya's expression drops. She gives Maya an apologetic look, to which the younger Gryffindor just shakes her head.
"It's a valid concern, Hermione, " Maya replies, somewhat placidly, "I want to help people ――― while at the same time doing what I love ――― and I guess journalism just sort of puts that together for me? I can write while still making a difference, so it's not completely self-indulgent, "
"There's nothing wrong with being self-indulgent, Maya" Diana catches up to them, " ――― sorry I'm late, had to meet someone at the library, "
"Who?" questions Maya, noticing the blush on Diana's cheeks, which doesn't look like it's from running.
"Just an old friend, " Diana says this in an awfully noncomittal tone, making Maya raise her eyebrows in suspicion, "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Was it a boy?" Maya smirks at the horrified expression on Diana's face.
"No!!"
"So it was a boy!, "
"No ― Maya ― " Diana puts her face in her hands, "It's not what you think, "
"Alright, alright, " Maya slows down, still smirking triumphantly, "Just promise I'll be the maid of honor at your wedding. "
"Maya!!"
All traces of Maya's playful mood disappear at Potions two hours later.
'Settle down,' says Snape coldly, shutting the door behind him. There's no real need for the call to order; the moment the class hears the door close, quiet falls, and all fidgeting stops. Snape's mere presence is usually enough to ensure a class's silence.
'Before we begin today's lesson,' says Snape, sweeping over to his desk and staring around at them all, 'I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an "Acceptable" in your OWL, or suffer my . . . displeasure.'
Ah, yes. Way to decrease the pressure.
His gaze lingers this time on Neville, who gulps. 'After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me,' Snape goes on. 'I take only the very best into my NEWT Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye.' His eyes rest on Harry and his lip curls Harry glares back. Maya stays silent, knowing that she has no real cause for worry. Years of standing by and preparing potions with Magnus has made her quite adept in this subject.
If only she didn't have a greasy-haired hawk for a teacher.
'But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell,' says Snape softly, 'so, whether or not you are intending to attempt NEWT, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high pass level I have come to expect from my OWL students. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing.'
On Maya's right, Hermione sits up a little straighter, her expression one of utmost attention. Maya tries to imitate her, though her fatigue makes the process a little sluggish.
'The ingredients and method — ' Snape flicks his wand ' — are on the blackboard — (they appear there) ' — you will find everything you need — ' he flicks his wand again ' — in the store cupboard — ' (the door of the said cupboard springs open) ' — you have an hour and a half . . . start.'
Maya springs to action. Just as she predicted, Snape can hardly have set them a more difficult, fiddly potion. The ingredients have to be added to the cauldron in precisely the right order and quantities; the mixture have to be stirred exactly the right number of times, firstly in clockwise, then in anti-clockwise directions; the heat of the flames on which it's simmering have to be lowered to exactly the right level for a specific number of minutes before the final ingredient is added. Maya finds herself running from the cupboard and back like a house-elf, frantically cutting and chopping the ingredients to match the timings on the board.
'A light silver vapour should now be rising from your potion,' called Snape, with ten minutes left to go. Maya adds the second-to-last stir, throwing in the murtlap tentacles in with it. The potion transforms to a light gray
Her hand accidentally grazes the knife.
"Ow — fuck!!" Maya swears under her breath at the sudden pain. There's a jagged cut across her palm. It doesn't look too deep, but there's blood already pooling at the edges, spilling out of the center at an alarming pace. She quickly scourgifies the cut, flinching at the stinging pain that the spell creates. It's disinfected now, though, and Maya quickly heals it, wrapping a stray piece of cloth around the area to get rid of the tenderness.
She quickly walks over to the cabinet, holding her hand. It doesn't seem to have healed properly; the skin feels awfully thin and fragile underneath the bandage, as if one wrong move will snap it open. Maya ignores it, however, eyes searching on top of the shelves for the syrup of hellebore required to turn the potion to it's luminescent silver color. Fatigue takes over from the previous night, and Maya quickly stifles a yawn, looking over her shoulder to see Snape pacing ominously between the desks.
Where's the damn hellebore??
Suddenly, Maya feels someone's arm reach over her. She sees an expensive-watch-clad wrist above her, long, slender fingers wrapping around the very bottle of the substance she needs to complete her potion. Before she can reprimand the person, however, mouth-half open in protest, it's dropped into her hands, almost slipping to the floor before she catches it. Maya turns around, completely confused and feeling very out of her wits.
Draco Malfoy turns pink in the face, looking sheepish at her eyes on him. He quickly looks around the classroom, as Maya tries to gather herself, as if to make sure no one's watching them.
"Mal — what? — why? — " Maya stutters, bewildered.
He sighs, running a hand through his hair before muttering, "To make up for last night, "
Before she can process this, however, he's already turned around, quickly striding back to his seat as if nothing ever happened. Maya stands there for an inordinate amount of time, looking down at the bottle of syrup in her hands, until she feels people staring at her and Snape barking at her to get back in her seat lest she wants to fail today's class.
One question remains, five minutes later, as Maya stirs in the hellebore, the potion turning a pearlescent silver inside the simmering cauldron.
What's going on with him?
More importantly, what's going on with her?
so i'm exhausted lol. freshman year has been very tiring so far ( i have to wake up at 6 everyday to bike to school ). idk when the next update will be, probably sometime in the next two weeks. i'll try and work on the new chapter this weekend, but studying might come up so we'll see what happens. thanks for reading and bye <3
- aria
Chapter 25: Chapter 25
Chapter Text
𝕾𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
AFTER POTIONS, MAYA IS NOT LOOKING FORWARD TO DADA with her new professor.
She listens, mood sour, clutching her books to her chest as Ron laments about the amount of homework they've gotten so far, "D'you realise how much homework we've got already? Binns set us a foot-and-a-half-long essay on giant wars, Snape wants a foot on the use of moonstones, and now we've got a month's dream diary from Trelawney! Fred and George weren't wrong about OWL year, were they? That Umbridge woman had better not give us any . . .'
Homework is the least of her worries at this particular moment.
When they enter the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom they find Professor Umbridge already seated at the teachers desk, wearing the fluffy pink cardigan of the night before and the black velvet bow on top of her head. Maya has that same bad feeling about her again reminded forcibly of a large fly perched unwisely on top of an even larger toad. The class is quiet as they enter the room; Professor Umbridge is, as yet, an unknown quantity and nobody knows how strict a disciplinarian she's likely to be.
'Well, good afternoon!' she says, when finally the whole class sits down, in a high pitched, girlish voice that irritates Maya to no end. A few people mumble 'good afternoon' in reply. 'Tut, tut,' says Professor Umbridge. 'That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply "Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge". One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!'
Yup. She's definitely going to hate this class.
'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,' they chant back at her. Maya feels like a toddler being ordered around as she sits back down.
'There, now,' says Professor Umbridge sweetly. That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.' Many of the class exchanges gloomy looks; the order 'wands away' has never yet been followed by a lesson they've found interesting. Maya begrudgingly follows the woman's directions, having to remind herself that she no longer needs a wand to perform magic.
Professor Umbridge opens her handbag, extracts her own wand, which is an unusually short one, and taps the blackboard sharply with it; words appear on the board at once: "Defence Against the Dark Arts A Return to Basic Principles"
Basic Principles?
'Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn't it?' states Professor Umbridge, turning to face the class with her hands clasped neatly in front of her. 'The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your OWL year. 'You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centred, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.'
She raps the blackboard again; the first message vanishes and is replaced by the 'Course Aims'.
1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic.
2. Learning to recognise situations in which defensive magic can legally be used
3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use.
For a couple of minutes the room is full of the sound of scratching quills on parchment, Maya scrawling hers down in an irritated print that looks nothing like her usual pretty cursive. When everyone copies down Professor Umbridge's three course aims she asks, 'Has everybody got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'
There's a dull murmur of assent throughout the class. 'I think we'll try that again,' says Professor Umbridge. 'When I ask you a question, I should like you to reply, "Yes, Professor Umbridge", or "No, Professor Umbridge'. So, has everyone got a copy of Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard?'
This woman is getting closer and closer to being put on Maya's hit list.
'Yes, Professor Umbridge,' rings through the room.
'Good,' says Professor Umbridge. I should like you to turn to page five and read "Chapter One, Basics for Beginners". There will be no need to talk.'
Not like she'd want to, anyway.
Professor Umbridge leaves the blackboard and settles herself in the chair behind the teacher's desk, observing them all closely with those pouchy toad's eyes. Maya turns to page five of her copy of Defensive Magical Theory and starts to read. It's probably the most boring thing she's ever done; more of a drag than studying with Alec. Several silent minutes pass. Maya realizes that she's been reading the same line over and over again, but is too exhausted to try and change.
She looks to the left for some entertainment. Hermione has not even opened her copy of Defensive Magical Theory. She stares fixedly at Professor Umbridge with her hand in the air. Maya cannot remember Hermione ever neglecting to read when instructed to, or indeed resisting the temptation to open any book that comes under her nose. Maya raises an eyebrow in her direction, but Hermione merely shakes her head slightly to indicate that she's not about to answer questions, and continues to stare at Professor Umbridge, who's looking just as resolutely in another direction.
After several more minutes have passed, however, Maya's not the only one watching Hermione. The chapter they've been instructed to read is so tedious that more and more people are choosing to watch Hermione's mute attempt to catch Professor Umbridge's eye rather than struggle on with 'Basics for Beginners'. When more than half the class is staring at Hermione rather than at their books, Professor Umbridge seems to decide that she can ignore the situation no longer.
'Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?' she asks Hermione, as though she's only just noticed her.
'Not about the chapter, no,' says Hermione.
'Well, we're reading just now,' says Professor Umbridge, showing her small pointed teeth. 'If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.'
'I've got a query about your course aims,' says Hermione.
Professor Umbridge raises her eyebrows. 'And your name is?'
'Hermione Granger,' says Hermione, confidently. Maya knows that she's probably resisting the urge to sink into the ground.
'Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully' says Professor Umbridge in a voice of determined sweetness.
'Well, I don't,' says Hermione bluntly. "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."
There's a short silence in which many members of the class turn their heads to frown at the three-course aims still written on the blackboard.
'Using defensive spells?' Professor Umbridge repeats with a little laugh. 'Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?'
'We're not going to use magic?' Ron exclaims loudly.
'Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr — ?'
'Weasley,' says Ron, thrusting his hand into the air. Professor Umbridge, smiling still more widely, turns her back on him. Harry and Hermione immediately raise their hands too. A sudden gut feeling tells Maya to keep her mouth shut, though she feels like she's practically vibrating with confusion.
Professor Umbridge's pouchy eyes linger on Harry for a moment before she addresses Hermione. 'Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?'
'Yes,' said Hermione. 'Surely the whole point of Defence Against the Dark Arts is to practise defensive spells?'
'Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?' asks Professor Umbridge, in her falsely sweet voice.
'No, but — '
'Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to decide what the "whole point" of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new programme of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way — '
'What use is that?' says Harry loudly. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be in a — '
'Hand, Mr Potter!' sings Professor Umbridge. Harry thrusts his fist in the air. Maya prays for him in her head.
Again, Professor Umbridge promptly turns away from him, but now several other people have their hands up, too.
'And your name is?' Professor Umbridge says to Dean.
'Dean Thomas.'
'Well, Mr Thomas?'
'Well, it's like Harry said, isn't it?' says Dean. 'If we're going to be attacked, it won't be risk free.'
'I repeat,' says Professor Umbridge, smiling in a very irritating fashion at Dean; Maya has the sudden urge to slap it off of her pouchy face, 'do you expect to be attacked during my classes?'
'No, but — '
Professor Umbridge talks over him. 'I do not wish to criticise the way things have been run in this school,' she says, an unconvincing smile stretching her wide mouth, 'but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed — not to mention,' she gives a nasty little laugh, 'extremely dangerous half-breeds.'
Her eyes flit to Maya for a split second, a triumphant glint inside them that makes the fire of rage igniting in Maya's chest burn brighter.
'If you mean Professor Lupin,' pipes up Dean angrily, 'he was the best we ever — '
'Hand, Mr Thomas! As I was saying — you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day — '
'No we haven't,' Hermione says, 'we just — '
'Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!' Hermione puts up her hand. Professor Umbridge turns away from her. 'It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them on you.'
'Well, he turned out to be a maniac, didn't he?' says Dean hotly. Maya has never wanted to agree with him more 'Mind you, we still learned loads.'
'Your hand is not up, Mr Thomas!' trills Professor Umbridge. 'Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?' she adds, staring at Parvati, whose hand has just shot up.
'Parvati Patil, and isn't there a practical bit in our Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL? Aren't we supposed to show that we can actually do the counter-curses and things?'
'As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,' says Professor Umbridge dismissively.
'Without ever practising them beforehand?' says Parvati incredulously, "Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?'
'I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough — '
'And what good's theory going to be in the real world?' says Harry loudly, his fist in the air again. Professor Umbridge looks up.
'This is school, Mr Potter, not the real world,' she said softly. Maya bites down on her tongue so hard she tastes blood.
But this 'school' is where I almost died.
'So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting for us out there?'
'There is nothing waiting out there, Mr Potter.'
'Oh, yeah?' says Harry. Maya's resolve feels like it's reaching it's breaking point
'Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?' enquires Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.
'Hmm, let's think . . .' says Harry in a mock thoughtful voice. 'Maybe . . . Lord Voldemort?'
Maya chokes; Ron gasps; Lavender Brown utters a little scream; Neville slips sideways off his stool. Professor Umbridge, however, does not flinch. She stares at Harry with a grimly satisfied expression on her face. 'Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.'
The classroom is silent and still. Everyone stares at either Umbridge or Harry.
'Now, let me make a few things quite plain.' Professor Umbridge stands up and leaned towards them, her stubby-fingered hands splayed on her desk. 'You have been told that a certain Dark wizard has returned from the dead — '
'He wasn't dead,' says Harry angrily, 'but yeah, he's returned!'
'Mr-Potter-you-have-already-lost-your-house-ten-points-do-not-make-matters-worse-for-yourself,' says Professor Umbridge in one breath without looking at him. 'As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. This is a lie.'
'It is NOT a lie!' says Harry. 'I saw him, I fought him!'
'Detention, Mr Potter!' says Professor Umbridge triumphantly. Tomorrow evening. Five o'clock. My office. I repeat, this is a lie. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means come and see me outside class hours. If someone is alarming you with fibs about reborn Dark wizards, I would like to hear about it. I am here to help. I am your friend. And now, you will kindly continue your reading. Page five, "Basics for Beginners".'
Professor Umbridge sits down behind her desk. Harry, however, stands up. Everyone stares staring at him; Seamus looks half-scared, half-fascinated. 'Harry, no!' Hermione whispers in a warning voice, tugging at his sleeve, but Harry jerked his arm out of her reach. Maya puts her head in her hands out of frustration.
'So, according to you, Cedric Diggory dropped dead of his own accord, did he?' Harry asks, his voice shaking. There's a collective intake of breath from the class ( and Maya, who feels as though her chest might explodefrom anxiety ), for none of them, apart from Ron, Maya and Hermione, have ever heard Harry talk about what had happened on the night Cedric died. They stare avidly from Harry to Maya to Professor Umbridge, who has raised her eyes and stares at him without a trace of a fake smile on her face.
'Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident,' she says coldly.
Sounds like your birth, Maya thinks in her head, venomously.
'It was murder,' says Harry. His hands are shaking. Maya wants to scream but shoves the urge down, 'Voldemort killed him and you know it.'
Keep your head down, Magnus told her, before she left New York, Don't give anyone a reason to pay attention to you. Just get through your classes and you'll be okay.
Maya's surprised by how many times she's had to repeat this to herself over the past half-hour.
Professor Umbridge's face is quite blank. For a moment, Maya thinks she's going to scream at him. Then she says, in her softest, most sweetly girlish voice, 'Come here, Mr Potter, dear.'
Harry kicks the chair aside, walking up to her desk. Maya can feel the class holding their breath. Professor Umbridge pulls out a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag, stretches it out on the desk, dips her quill into a bottle of ink and starts scribbling, hunched over so that no one can see what she's writing. Nobody speaks. After a minute or so she rolls up the parchment and taps it with her wand; it seals itself seamlessly so that he can't open it.
'Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,' says Professor Umbridge, holding out the note to him.
Harry storms out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. There's a tense silence for a few moments. Maya feels cuts forming in her palms from how hard her fists are clenched. Her rage is roaring inside her chest, almost impossible to control with how intensely the flames are burning. She's so, so angry, wanting nothing more than to lunge at Umbridge and send her to the hospital.
"Something you want to say, Miss Rajesh?" questions Professor Umbridge, in a taunting voice, as if daring her to answer back.
Maya's restraint snaps. The next few moments feel like they're fueled by pure insanity.
"I do, actually, " she says, voice wavering due to her anger.
Maya puts her book down, looking directly into Umbridge's beady eyes, "You're lying, "
There's a shocked silence for a few moments; It's clear that nobody's expected her to speak up.
"Excuse me?" The woman's face hardens considerably, sitting up straighter in her chair.
"You're — lying. " Maya replies, through gritted teeth, enunciating her words. She stands up, pushing her chair back with a screech.
"I was there — that night, " Her voice shakes with a mixture of anger and fear, "I saw him kill Cedric with my own eyes — "
"You saw no such thing — "
"I saw him rise from the dead — "
"Miss Rajesh — "
"I saw Pettigrew cut off his own arm for him — "
"Maya!!" hisses Hermione, horrified, "Sit down!!" Maya ignores her.
"If you continue to blabber like this in my class — "
"Why would I lie about something like this, Professor?" Maya questions, furiously leaning forward on her hands, "Why would either of us lie about watching Cedric DIE — "
"Miss Rajesh, be quiet — "
"Forgive me, but I see no sense in your claims that both Harry and I 'hallucinated' the entire thing, " Maya snaps, coldly, "I assure you, I was perfectly sane when it happened, "
"Miss Rajesh, this is your final warning — "
"Or maybe — " Maya laments, with a bitter laugh, "Maybe, it's not even me that's the problem. Maybe . . . . it's you. You and your Ministry are scared. You don't want to believe that he's back, you don't want to admit that you've failed. So you're blaming us instead, for your own incompetence — "
Maya is suddenly yanked back into her chair; It clatters forward and slams her back into position at the desk. She yelps from the way her ribs hit the edge of the table.
Umbridge's toad-like face is terrifyingly calm, features set in a hard smile. The only semblance of emotion is the catlike grin on her face, as if she's just found her prey.
"Since you, Miss Rajesh, seem to be unaware of common decency inside this classroom, I am taking matters into my own hands. Fifteen points from Gryffindor — " There's some audible gasps from the Gryffindors at this, " — and two evenings of detention. Five 'o clock. My office. Be there unless you want me to recommend you for suspension with the Headmaster, "
She'll be waiting, Maya thinks to herself, twirling her wand, as Umbridge turns to scribble something on the board, Waiting for this woman to slip up, to make the wrong move.
Only then, will Maya rise to the occasion
Chapter 26: Chapter 26
Chapter Text
𝐒𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
❝ HAVE A BISCUIT, MISS RAJESH ❞
"What?!" Maya sputters, all traces of shame gone from her voice.
'Have a biscuit,' repeats McGonnagall, impatiently, indicating a tartan tin lying on top of one of the piles of papers on her desk. 'And sit down.'
There's been a previous occasion when Maya, expecting to be punished by Professor McGonagall, had instead been praised for her willingness to defend herself. She sinks into a chair opposite the older woman and helps herself to a jammie dodger, feeling just as confused and wrong-footed as she had on that particular occasion.
Professor McGonagall sets down Professor Umbridge's note and looks very seriously at her. Maya looks down in shame, feeling like a toddler being caught with her hand in the cookie jar.
'I assume you know why you're here?" She says. Maya nods, not being able to look her in the eye.
'Rajesh, you need to be careful around that woman.'
Maya immediately looks up, staring at Professor McGonagall in shock. Her tone of voice is not at all what Maya's used to; it's not brisk, crisp and stern; it's low and anxious and somehow much more human than usual.
'Misbehaviour in Dolores Umbridge's class could cost you much more than house points and a detention.'
'What do you mean — ?'
'Use your common sense,' snaps Professor McGonagall, with an abrupt return to her usual manner. 'You know what happened to you last year. Do you really want to give her another opportunity to humiliate you?'
The bell rings for the end of the lesson. Overhead and all-around comes the elephantine sounds of hundreds of students on the move.
'It says here she's given you detention every evening this week, starting tomorrow,' Professor McGonagall says, looking down at Umbridge's note again.
'Every evening?' Maya repeats, horrified. 'But, Professor, couldn't you — ?'
'No, I couldn't,' says Professor McGonagall flatly.
'But — '
'She is your teacher and has every right to give you detention. You will go to her room at five o'clock tomorrow for the first one. Just remember to tread carefully around Dolores Umbridge.'
'But — but I was telling the truth!!" Maya sputters, 'I was there, I saw what he did, I saw him come back — "
'For heaven's sake, Rajesh!' says Professor McGonagall, straightening her glasses angrily. 'Do you really think this is about truth or lies? It's about keeping your head down and your temper under control! You, of all people, should understand what I'm talking about.'
She stands up, nostrils wide and mouth very thin, and Maya stands up, too, somewhat awkwardly.
'Your father had the exact same temper as you. It got him in a considerable amount of trouble during his time here, ' she snaps, angrily, I won't let the same thing happen to you. Do you understand me? — "
"But — "
"She will be hard on you, " continues Professor McGonagall, sternly, "She will taunt you, she will try and twist your words into something they're not. If the opportunity arises, she may even try and bring up your past, which has been splattered across the front page of the Daily Prophet for the past three months. But your job, as a student and as a decent human being — is to take it with a grain of salt. You cannot afford any more mistakes, not with her around. I am telling you this for the last time — keep your head down. Do your work in classes and speak back to her only when she asks you to. Now have another biscuit,' she says, irritably, thrusting the tin at Maya.
'No, thanks,' says Maya, placidly.
'Don't be ridiculous,' she snaps. Maya takes one, a Ginger Newt this time
Thanks,' she says, grudgingly.
'Didn't you listen to Dolores Umbridge's speech at the start-of-term feast?'
'Kind of' says Maya, racking her brain. 'Progress will be prohibited or . . . well, it meant that . . . that the Ministry of Magic is trying to interfere at Hogwarts.'
Professor McGonagall eyes her closely for a moment, then sniffs, walking around her desk and holding the door open for Maya.
'Well, I'm glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate,' she says, pointing her out of McGonagall's office.
The following day dawns just as leaden and rainy as the previous one. Hagrid is still absent from the staff table at breakfast.
'But on the plus side, no Snape today,' says Ron bracingly. Maya weakly stirs her cereal without appetite. Her nightmares have eaten up her hunger once again. She gives up on eating and pushes the bowl aside, pouring herself a cup of triple-strength coffee to battle the headache that makes her temples ache from lack of sleep. Hermione yawns widely and pours herself some coffee as well, though considerably less potent than Maya's.
Double Charms is succeeded by double Transfiguration. Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall both spend the first fifteen minutes of their lessons lecturing the class on the importance of OWLs.
'What you must remember,' says little Professor Flitwick squeakily, perched as ever on a pile of books so that he can see over the top of his desk, 'is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have not already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I'm afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!'
They then spend over an hour revising Summoning Charms, which according to Professor Flitwick are bound to come up in their OWL, and he rounds off the lesson by setting them their largest-ever amount of Charms homework.
It's the same, if not worse, in Transfiguration. 'You cannot pass an OWL,' says Professor McGonagall grimly, 'without serious application, practice and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an OWL in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work.'
Neville makes a sad little disbelieving noise. '
Yes, you too, Longbottom,' says Professor McGonagall. 'There's nothing wrong with your work except lack of confidence. So . . . today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until NEWT level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your OWL.'
Maya tries her best, but only manages to vanish her snail by the end of the class. Harry finds the Vanishing Spells horribly difficult. By the end of a double period, neither he nor Ron have managed to vanish the snails on which they are practising, though Ron says hopefully he thinks his looks a bit paler. Hermione, on the other hand, successfully vanishes her snail on the third attempt, earning her a ten-point bonus for Gryffindor from Professor McGonagall. She and Maya are the only people not given homework; everybody else is told to practise the spell overnight, ready for a fresh attempt on their snails the following afternoon.
By the time they reach Care of Magical Creatures in the afternoon, the coffee has worn off and Maya's headache comes back. The day has become cool and breezy, and as they walk down the sloping lawn towards Hagrid's cabin on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, they feel the occasional drop of rain on their faces. Professor Grubbly-Plank stands waiting for the class some ten yards from Hagrid's front door, a long trestle table in front of her laden with twigs. As they reach her, a loud shout of laughter sounds behind them; turning, Maya sees Draco Malfoy striding towards them, surrounded by his usual gang of Slytherin cronies.
Oh Bloody Hell, Maya groans, running a hand through his hair, Why him? Why now?
He has clearly just said something highly amusing, because Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and the rest continue to snigger heartily as they gather around the trestle table and, judging by the way they all keep looking over at Harry, Maya's able to guess the subject of the joke without too much difficulty. His eyes meet hers again, and she feels the same shivery feeling from earlier, like someone has just set off chills down her spine. And it's not entirely unpleasant.
Maya quickly looks away, ignoring the way his eyes seem to follow her every move.
He hurt you, she reminds herself, firmly, He doesn't deserve any of your attention.
'Everyone here?' barks Professor Grubbly-Plank, once all the Slytherins and Gryffindors have arrived. 'Let's crack on then. Who can tell me what these things are called?' She indicates the heap of twigs in front of her. Hermione's hand shoots into the air. Behind her back, Malfoy does a buck-toothed imitation of her jumping up and down in eagerness to answer a question. Pansy Parkinson gave a shriek of laughter that turns almost at once into a scream. Maya glares at him and he almost immediately shuts up.
Good. She hasn't completely lost her touch.
The twigs on the table leap into the air and reveal themselves to be what looked like tiny pixie-ish creatures made of wood, each with knobbly brown arms and legs, two twiglike fingers at the end of each hand and a funny flat, barklike face in which a pair of beetle-brown eyes glitter. 'Oooooh!' says Parvati and Lavender, the sound grating Maya's sensitive ears. Anyone would have thought Hagrid has never shown them impressive creatures; admittedly, the Flobberworms have been a bit dull, but the Salamanders and Hippogriffs from Harry recounts of previous years sound interesting enough, and the Blast-Ended Skrewts perhaps too much so.
'Kindly keep your voices down, girls!' says Professor Grubbly-Plank sharply, scattering a handful of what looks like brown rice among the stick-creatures, who immediately fall upon the food. 'So — anyone know the names of these creatures? Miss Granger?'
'Bowtruckles,' says Hermione. 'They're tree-guardians, usually live in wand trees.' Maya vaguely remembers seeing one of them during a family trip to Denali National Park in Alaska a few years ago.
'Five points for Gryffindor,' says Professor Grubbly-Plank. 'Yes, these are Bowtruckles, and as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Does anybody know what they eat?'
'Woodlice,' says Hermione promptly, which explains why what Maya has taken to be grains of brown rice were moving. The sight of them squirming fills her with an inexplicable revulsion. 'But fairy eggs if they can get them.'
'Good girl, take another five points. So, whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a Bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of woodlice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will try to gouge at human eyes with their fingers, which, as you can see, are very sharp and not at all desirable near the eyeballs. So if you'd like to gather closer, take a few woodlice and a Bowtruckle — I have enough here for one between three — you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson.'
The class surges forwards around the trestle table. Maya sticks near Hermione, who's conveniently wedged in between Malfoy and her. She focuses on sketching out the vague outline of her bowtruckle, trying to get the shape right before going in for the details. Harry and Malfoy, however, have the misfortune of being placed next to each other. Maya ignores their growing argument, hand tightening around her pencil as she fills in her drawing. But looking the other way becomes almost impossible as she hears this piece of wording directed at Hagrid;
'Maybe,' says Malfoy in an undertone, so that Maya can just barely pick up on his words, 'the stupid great oaf's got himself badly injured.'
'Maybe you will if you don't shut up,' says Harry out of the side of his mouth. Maya and him share a rueful look.
'Maybe he's been messing with stuff that's too big for him, if you get my drift.' Malfoy smirks over his shoulder at Harry. Maya feels that same unattended rage building inside her again, like her chest has just filled with hot, bitter water.
The words leave her mouth before she can stop them.
"You're one to talk about picking on someone your own size, Malfoy, "
He suddenly looks pale. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think it's pretty obvious what it means" Maya replies, scathingly.
There's pin-drop silence; everyone around them has stopped talking. Maya has a fleeting second of panic that maybe they know — know what he did, know what they did to her — but it's dismissed as she notices the change in his expression. His eyes are hardened, the wall guarding his innermost thoughts back up in place. She glares back at him with the same ferocity, trying to match his sudden intensity. But there's a stab of guilt low in her belly; a small voice that tells her, 'Was that really necessary?'.
'He deserves to be put on the spot for what he did.' she fires back, mentally.
"I thought you'd have a modicum of decency to not bring this up in public, " he growls, quietly, gritting his teeth.
Does he? Does he, really?
Maya looks up at him, directly into his crystalline eyes, ignoring how small she feels compared to his towering figure. There's a blazing look in her sapphiric hues, one that only forgives those who truly deserve it.
Draco Malfoy is currently not on that list.
"Decency doesn't matter when you almost got me killed, " She growls, tone equally venomous and defiant. He freezes, "So why don't you shut your own mouth before I do worse?"
He looks at her, shocked, eyes wide; Maya can practically feel the fear radiating off of him. And it makes her feel powerful, in a weird way, to know that the tables have been turned.
"You wouldn't . . . . " His tone is slightly unsure and shaky.
Maya rises up on her toes, leaning forward so her lips brush against the curve of his ear. She smirks when she feels his breath hitch.
"You don't know shit, Malfoy " she purrs, voice low and threatening, "So do us both a favor, and stop acting like you have any power over me. We both know who's the real liar here, "
The rules of the game have changed, and this time, she pulls the strings.
Diana reminds her to feed Church before she leaves.
After pouring the dry cat food into his bowl, Maya quickly changes into a more comfortable pair of clothes; a short, soft grey t-shirt and a loose pair of track pants. Her midriff is bared; probably a bit of a risky thing to wear in front of Umbridge, but it's the last thing in her head at this particular moment. She ignores Diana's remarks at how she's managed to get herself in trouble on the first day itself, trying to ward off her impending migraine by making yet another cup of coffee to get her through whatever Umbridge has in store for her.
Arjun is probably rolling in his grave at her behavior.
"This is insane . . . . " mutters Diana, working on Arithmancy equations as Maya sourly puts on her old trainers, face in a pinched, harried expression, as though she's swallowed a lemon.
"Me or Umbridge?" Her tone of voice is drier than the tofu Magnus overcooked during their last dinner together.
"Both of you,"
"Ah yes, such amazing words of encouragement, " Maya rolls her eyes, sarcasm dripping from her voice, "I'll remember that when she's making me scrub bedpans in the Hospital wing. Without magic, "
"That woman is vile, " Diana's face is set in a thin line, chin in the palm of her hand; She looks oddly thoughtful, "Why would Dumbledore have picked her, out of all people, to teach us?"
"Maybe the old man's finally gone and lost it. Have you seen the kind of robes he wears?"
"Well, anyway, " Diana sighs, turning back to her homework, "These problems aren't going to finish themselves. You better leave now. She might make you stay later because you weren't on time, "
The walk to Umbridge's office feels like forever; Maya's legs feel like lead when she finally opens the door.
The sight of the interior makes her want to vomit. The surfaces have all been draped in lacy covers and cloths. There are several vases full of dried flowers, each one residing on its own doily, and on one of the walls is a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different bow around its neck. These are so foul that Maya stares at them, horrified.
The decorations would probably give Magnus a heart attack.
'Good evening, Ms. Rajesh.'
Maya jumps at the sound, turning around. She doesn't know how she hasn't noticed Umbridge before, probaly because she's wearing a luridly flowered set of robes that blends only too well with the tablecloth on the desk behind her.
'Evening, Professor,' Maya says, stiffly. This is already starting to get old.
'Well, sit down,' she says, pointing towards a small table draped in lace beside which she has drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lies on the table, apparently waiting for Maya.
With a massive effort, Maya looks away from the horrible woman, drops his schoolbag beside the straight-backed chair and sits down.
'There,' says, Umbridge sweetly, 'we're getting better at controlling our temper already, aren't we?"
Maya resists the urge to smash her sick smile in.
"Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Ms. Rajesh. No, not with your quill,' she adds, as Maya bends down to open her bag. 'You're going to be using a rather special one of mine. Here you are.'
Umbridge hands her a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point. 'I want you to write, I must keep my mouth shut,' she tells Maya, softly. A sick feeling twists in her gut.
Oh, this bitch is really pushing it today, Maya thinks to herself, venomously.
'How many times?' Maya asks, with a saccharine imitation of politeness. She makes her eyes look wide and innocent, a tactic used on Nandini to earn cookies before dinner as a child.
'Oh, as long as it takes for the message to 'sink in' ,' says Umbridge, sweetly. 'Off you go.' She moves over to her desk, sits down and bends over a stack of parchment that looks like essays for marking.
Maya sighs, raising the sharp black quill, then realises what's missing.
'Where's the ink?,' she questions, confused.
'Oh, you won't need ink,' says Professor Umbridge. Her voice catches on a ghost of a laugh.
Maya raises an eyebrow, places the point of the quill on the paper and writes what she's been told to. She immediately hisses in pain.
The words appear on the parchment in what looks like shining red ink. At the same time, the words appear on the back of Maya's right hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel. Suddenly, it heals closed, skin smooth and reddened, as though nothing was there before.
This — this can't be real.
Maya looks at Umbridge with horror written all over her face. The bloody woman just watches her, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. Her heart spikes with fear. 'Yes?'
'Nothing,' says Maya, quietly, placing the quill on the parchment once more. Ice pools in the pit of her chest. She writes, I must keep my mouth shut, and feels the searing pain on the back of her hand for a second time; once again, the words have been cut into her skin; once again, they heal over seconds later.
And on it goes. Again and again, Maya writes the words on the parchment in her own blood. And, again and again, the words are cut into the back of her hand, healed, and reappear the next time she sets quill to parchment. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from making any noise, and soon feels blood flowing from there as well.
Darkness falls outside Umbridge's window. Maya doesn't ask when she can stop. She doesn't even check the rose-gold watch on her wrist, gifted to her by Karthik and Rhea last summer. She just sits there, stoic, stone-cold, quietly cutting open her own hand. It burns, as though white-hot knives are slicing into her skin. But Maya forces herself through it, controlling her breathing as to remain collected. The irony taste in her mouth is sickening, churning her already-rocky stomach until it's teetering dangerously to the point of no return.
Inside, she wants to die.
But the dumbest decision she could possibly make would be letting Umbridge have the pleasure to get under her skin.
So she writes. Sits and writes for what feels like eternal hell. Only when her hand feels like she's sliced it all the way through does Umbridge acknowledge her with a 'Come here,'.
Maya stands up. Her nerves feel dead, hand in agonizing pain. When she looks down at it, Maya sees that the cut has healed, but that the skin there is red raw.
Just like her mind.
'Hand,' says Umbridge. Maya shoves it forward, not bothering to fake politeness anymore. She takes it in her own. Maya pushes down the urge to flinch violently as Umbridge touches her with her thick, stubby fingers on which she wears a number of ugly old rings.
'Tut, tut, I don't seem to have made much of an impression yet,' she says, smiling. 'Well, we'll just have to try again tomorrow evening, won't we? You may go.'
Maya leaves her office without a word. The school is quite deserted; it was surely past midnight. Before, it would've unnerved her, the silence of the corridor.
But now, the emptiness is kind of comforting.
Maya forces herself to walk forward at an excruciatingly slow pace. Each step feels like she has the weight of the world on her shoulders. Her chest spasms, and she chokes down a violent sob.
I can't do this, I can't fucking do this—
Then, after turning the corner, when she's sure Umbridge can't hear her, Maya breaks out into a sprint, hot tears brewing behind her eyes, and a knife wedged into her stomach.
ah3rbwsjb2qw i'm so sorry for how long this took. school was kicking my ass for a while and i lost motivation and energy to update. but i have it under control now and finally had the time and a sudden burst on inspo. anyways, idk when the next update will be. at the least, maybe next friday?? and at the most, during my term break at end of september. basically just whenever i have free time on my hands lol.
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 27: Chapter 27
Chapter Text
She's running again. The branches twist and break under her feet, splintering as her heart races in the pitch-blackness around her. Maya can hear the Death Eaters behind her, almost at her heels. She shoots back a curse as a red bolt of light misses her by centimeters, hitting a smoldering tree instead.
It's not enough.
Maya struggles to think as she hears them approaching, voices clear even through the thick underbrush behind her. She discreetly flees behind a tree, not daring to make a sound. Cold metal brushes against the inside of her thigh; Maya realizes, with a jolt, that she has a knife strapped to her leg. She quietly unsheathes the dagger from its hold, twisting the demon-blood-infused Damascus steel in her hand. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up. They're getting closer and closer . . . . she's running out of time . . . .
Her hand throws the knife before her mind has the chance to react.
Suddenly, black infuses the world around her. Maya feels a jerk behind her navel; Her body suddenly flies backward, pulled by an invisible force. Time seems to warp; she's somehow moving faster and slower all at once.
Then, she hits the rain-soaked road with a thud, and the impact is painful enough to make her vision swim with agony.
Maya gasps, raggedly, struggling to breathe. She's lying on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled out on the drenched concrete. The sky is an ominous grey; She can see the mountainous plains of Oxfordshire in the distance. Thunder cracks above her; Maya jerks away as she sees a white bolt of lightning hit something in the distance. Water gets into her nose as she tries to push herself up on her elbows; Maya chokes and falls back down, her nose hitting the ground with a sickening crack.
Arjun is lying still behind her.
Maya would've screamed if she could still use her voice; her "father" looks exactly the way he did over ten years ago. He lies a few feet away from her, still in his auror uniform, bloodied white shirt a horrifying sight as he gasps and chokes for air. He doesn't seem to notice her at all; lying in a pool of his own blood, the shards of glass from the wreckage of the car stuck in his ribcage.
"D-Dad?" Maya croaks this out, voice unsteady as her hand shakily reaches for his. He seems to register her voice; a ragged gasp leaving his lips. His dark brown eyes meet hers, warm and steady, just as she remembers them; Maya resists the urge to bawl from the familiarity in them, "Dad? Dad, can you hear me?" Her tone is hysterical with emotion.
Arjun hisses in pain, his fingers brushing hers by inches; Something in her breaks as he attempts to grab onto her hand, too weak to actually hold on. He settles for just touching the tips of her fingers, and tears freely pour down her cheeks, causing streaks to appear on her dirt and grime-covered face.
"M-Ma-Maya" he chokes out, barely able to form words. His fingers manage to grab onto hers; Maya sobs freely now, her cries echoing eerily in the empty space around them, "M-Maya . . . . "
"I'm here, Dad, " Maya chokes out, between sobs, gripping his hands for dear life, "I'm not going anywhere". The moment feels painfully real, the fading warmth of his hand clasped between both of hers as her heart pounds violently in her chest. The rain starts pouring faster around them, some of the water getting in Maya's nose and mouth,, making her cough and sneeze violently as her father gasps for air.
Arjun's eyes flash in alarm at her words. Maya freezes.
"N-no" he coughs out, the pool of blood around him steadily growing; Maya sees the life draining from his face, "Y-you can't-"
"Can't what?" Maya has to shake him a few times to get him to answer, "D-dad? Dad, what are you talking about?"
"G-go, " he chokes out, twitching violently, a sign of being near death, "L-l-leave. It's not - " Blood spurts from his mouth as he coughs, " I-It's not " - cough - " s-safe for y-you " - cough, he looks paler by the second, - "t-to be h-here."
"Dad, what are you talking about?" Maya's heart rate spikes as she hears the blaring sound of a freight truck in the distance, nearing her with alarming speed. Arjun chokes, finally going limp, eyes glassy and glazed over, "Dad? DAD?!"
The vehicle slams into her before she has any time to react.
Maya gives up on sleep for the rest of the night.
Around 4 am ( an hour after she was startled awake by visions of her dead father, her hands refusing to stop trembling ), Church is awakened by her sounds of crying. He meows, softly, pattering over to her bed from his plush, cat-sized one in the corner, climbing onto her bed and wedging his pudgy body between her arms. Maya sobs as he curls up into her chest, head rested under her chin, putting one hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds.
He purrs, somewhat reassuringly, nuzzling his face further into her chest. It's as if he understands her distress, in some weird way; he's been her feline companion for over ten years, after all. Maya's cries quieten as Church snuggles into her further, as if trying to comfort her; she kisses the top of his head, scratching behind his ears softly, earning a pleased purr from him.
They lay in a semi-comfortable silence for a while; he ends up falling asleep right in her arms, the warmth of his small body feeling pleasant against hers. Maya stares at the shadows morphing on the walls for what feels like hours, her hand stroking his fur being the only thing anchoring her to the ground. Her heart still pounds in her chest; Diana and Hermione stir for a second, but then go back to sleep. Only she lies awake, too terrified to close her eyes again.
She doesn't think she'd be able to sleep, anyway.
Daylight seeps in through the curtains when Maya finally shuts her eyes; Diana wakes her up mere moments later, claiming that she's overslept and that she better hurry unless she wants to be late to Transfiguration. Getting ready is a blur; Maya barely manages to brush her teeth without falling asleep, temples already pounding. She barely brushes her hair, leaving it wide and messy over her shoulders. Breakfast is forgotten; Maya uses this time to make herself look somewhat presentable, casting a concealing charm to get rid of the dark circles under her eyes and heavily lining them with blue liner.
Better to look scary than be scared.
'At least it's only lines,' says Hermione consolingly, as Maya tells her about the second evening of detention she has with Umbridge 'It's not as if it's a dreadful punishment, really . . .'
Maya opens her mouth and then closes it again. Her pride refuses to let her tell her friends.
This is between her and Umbridge, and somehow, she wants to keep it that way.
'I can't believe how much homework we've got,' says Ron, miserably.
'Well, why didn't you do any last night?' Hermione asks him. 'Where were you, anyway?'
'I was . . . I fancied a walk,' says Ron shiftily.
Maya has the distinct impression that she's not alone in concealing things at the moment.
The second detention is just as bad as the previous one. The skin on the back of Maya's hand irritates more quickly now and is soon red and inflamed. She doubts it'll be able to stay healed for long. Maybe it'll end up scarring and Umbridge will, perhaps, be satisfied. She doesn't show any signs of pain, crafting a mask of indifference locked in place through every hour, no matter how much the cut stings. Her homework situation, however, has become quite dire. Maya is up until two in the morning writing her essay on moonstones. She rushes through her Transfiguration and History of Magic; McGonagall might be strict, but at least she's not Snape.
Thursday passes in a haze of tiredness. Ron seems very sleepy too, though Maya cannot see why he should be. Her third detention passes in the same way as the previous two, except that after two hours the words 'I must keep my mouth shut' do not fade from the back of Maya's hand, but remain scratched there, oozing droplets of blood.
The pause in the pointed quills scratching make Professor Umbridge look up.
'Ah,' she says, softly, moving around her desk to examine Maya's hand herself. 'Good. That ought to serve as a reminder to you, oughtn't it? You may leave for tonight.'
'Do I still have to come back tomorrow?' says Maya, indifferently, picking up her schoolbag with her non-injured hand.
'Oh yes,' says, Professor Umbridge, smiling as widely as before. 'Yes, I think we can etch the message a little deeper with another evening's work.'
Maya has never before considered the possibility that there might be another teacher in the world she hates more than Moody and Snape, but as she walks back towards Gryffindor Tower, her insides seeth with rage. She's evil, Maya thinks, as she climbs up a staircase to the seventh floor, she's an evil, twisted, mad old bi-
Draco Malfoy crashes directly into her.
Maya screeches, falling backward. Her body flies away from him, books swaying dangerously inside her bag. She frantically waves her arms, trying to find something to grab onto when-
Maya feels her stomach flip over.
She opens her eyes; Their faces are dangerously close together. Maya is very aware of his hand, warm and large in the curve of her waist, holding her up to prevent from falling. She breathes heavily; barely comprehending the situation she's gotten herself into. Her hand rests on his chest, in a way that feels clandestine and oddly intimate between the two of them.
It's as if she's been running on autopilot all this time, and he's woken her up.
Shock registers on his face for a split second; He didn't expect this either. Then the tips of his cheekbones turn red, and he lets her go, breaking the moment between them. Maya stumbles away from him, clutching the strap of her bag. She knows for a fact that her face is red.
"I - um - " he stutters, not quite sure what to say to her, "I didn't see you coming"
How exactly do you interact with someone who walked in on you naked?
"Yeah, well maybe you should keep an eye on your surroundings, Malfoy, " The tone of her voice is cutting. Maya looks at the ground, pretending to brush the dust off of her jeans. His eyes flit to her hand.
"What's that?" Draco points to her right hand. Maya freezes.
"Nothing" She tries to pull the sleeve of her sweater down to cover it up, but he's too fast for her. Draco grabs her hand before she can hide it, pulling her towards him as he yanks her sleeve down, "Hey!! What the fuck?!"
He pays no attention to her words, as Maya struggles in his grip. His eyes freeze as soon as they catch sight of the words cut into her skin, blood still dripping from the edges. One squeeze of her elbow sends a jolt through her, warning Maya to keep still.
"What the fuck is this?!" he whispers, shocked. Maya makes a noise of protest, trying to drag her arm away from him, but he manages to hold her still, "Why - why are these words carved into your hand?!"
"It's none of your business, " Maya hisses this with as much venom as she can, but one stony glare from him sends a chill down her spine.
"Who did this to you?" The tone of his voice is dead.
Maya scoffs, "Why do you care?"
He doesn't relent, "Who?"
Maya doesn't know why, but the words leave her mouth before she can stop them.
"I-I was in detention with Umbridge, " She looks down at the ground, not daring to keep eye contact with him, "She made me . . . . . write lines, "
"Lines?" Draco sputters in disbelief, "With what? A knife?"
"No . . . " Maya sighs, looking at the wall. She doesn't even know why she's still talking to him, "She gave me a special quill, "
His face pales considerably.
"What?" Maya questions, all traces of sarcasm gone from her voice "Why're you looking at me like that?"
"She gave you - " He pauses, taking a moment " She gave you a blood quill?!"
"I - " Maya stops, mind going blank, "I don't know. She - she said I wouldn't need any ink. I didn't realize what she meant until - " Her scarred hand twitches.
Draco sighs, putting a hand over his face. There's a tense silence between them, in which neither of them know what to say. Maya should go, she realizes. It's half-past eleven. Diana will probably be wondering where she is.
But somehow, it feels wrong to just leave him here.
"Why are you doing this?" Maya blurts out. His eyes snap back to meet hers. She can't stop what's leaving her mouth, "Being nice to me?"
He looks at her with an unreadable expression, eyes closed off; Maya realizes, with a strange twinge in her chest, that they're more silver than grey. "I don't know what you're talking about"
"If you think I've forgotten about what you did-"
"Trust me, I haven't" His tone suddenly becomes cold, "Considering I have a reminder right in front of me, "
A twinge of hurt blooms in Maya's chest. It takes her by immense surprise, and she finds herself standing up straighter in an effect to not recoil from the harshness of his words.
"I don't know what game you're trying to play, Malfoy, " Her voice is calm and even, with a cold edge to it, "But stay away from me. I don't need a repeat of last year, "
Something crackles between them; it's not just anger anymore. There's a certain tension in the way he looks at her, head held high, face stony. And yet, there's none of the superiority that hung about him last year. He looks at her; with disdain, yes, but not degrading her.
It's almost like he views them as equal.
And somehow, Maya can't suppress the flood of relief that goes through her when she realizes this.
September blurs into October quite quickly; The next month passes by in a blur. Maya barely notices what's happening in the outside world; She's too focused on schoolwork to really pay attention to the current happenings in the wizarding world. Umbridge is made "High Inquisitor" ( whatever that is, she doesn't care. At least her detentions are over ), Diana gets an A in Arithmancy, and Harry manages to get himself in detention not one, not two, but oh, dear me, three times!
She's surprised his hand hasn't fallen off from the amount of lines the bloody toad gives him.
One evening in October, the three of them ( Maya, Ron and Hermione, Diana's the only one who goes to sleep at a decent time ), are up late in the common room, working on their homework. It's nearly midnight when Harry comes back from Umbridge's office that night, his hand now bleeding so severely that it stains the scarf he has wrapped around it. He looks pleased to see them, especially as Hermione is disposed to be sympathetic rather than critical.
'Here,' she says, anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid towards him, 'soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled Murtlap tentacles, it should help.'
Maya glances at the words still imprinted on the back of her hand; the scar won't go away no matter how much dittany she applies. She supposes the murtlap only numbs the temporary pain, the blood quill ( as Malfoy so graciously told her ) designed to leave a permanent mark.
Her heart pangs at the thought of him, but she shoves the feeling away, scribbling down her Transfiguration answers instead.
Harry looks immensely relieved once he sits down, soaking his hand in the murtlap essence. Crookshanks curls around his legs, purring loudly, then leaps into his lap and settled down. Church sits curled by the fire, his round face looking particularly adorable asleep.
Thanks,' he says, gratefully, scratching behind Crookshanks's ears with his left hand.
'I still reckon you should complain about this,' says Ron in a low voice. Maya tries to ignore the stab of guilt that comes at his words.
'No,' said Harry flatly. 'McGonagall would go nuts if she knew — '
'Yeah, she probably would,' says Harry dully. 'And how long do you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?'
Ron opens his mouth to retort but nothing comes out and, after a moment, he closes it again, defeated. '
She's an awful woman,' says Hermione in a small voice. 'Awful. You know, I was just saying to Ron when you came in . . . we've got to do something about her.'
'I suggested poison,' says Ron grimly.
'No, that's too slow, ' Maya mutters, crossing out a line on her parchment, 'An arrow through the chest would be perfect. I wonder if Alec would let me borrow his bow. . . . "
'No . . . I mean, something about what a dreadful teacher she is, and how we're not going to learn any Defence from her at all,' says Hermione, looking a little unnerved by Maya's suggestion.
'Well, what can we do about that?' says, Ron, yawning. "Its too late, isn't it? She's got the job, she's here to stay. Fudge'll make sure of that.'
'Well,' said Hermione tentatively. 'You know, I was thinking today . . .' she shoots a slightly nervous look at Harry and then plunges on, 'I was thinking that — maybe the time's come when we should just — just do it ourselves.'
'Do what ourselves?' questions Maya, looking up, nervously.
'Well — learn Defence Against the Dark Arts ourselves, ' says Hermione.
'Come off it,' groans Ron. 'You want us to do extra work? D'you realise Harry and I are behind on homework again and it's only the second week?'
'But this is much more important than homework!' says Hermione. Harry and Ron goggle at her. Maya rolls her eyes at their behavior.
'I didn't think there was anything in the universe more important than homework!' says Ron.
'Don't be silly, of course there is,' says Hermione, her face alight with a fervor that usually only 'SPEW' inspires in her. 'It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said in Umbridge's first lesson, for what's waiting for us out there. It's about making sure we really can defend ourselves. If we don't learn anything for a whole year — '
'We can't do much by ourselves,' says Ron in a defeated voice. 'I mean, all right, we can go and look jinxes up in the library and try and practise them, I suppose — '
'No, I agree, we've gone past the stage where we can just learn things out of books,' says Hermione. 'We need a teacher, a proper one, who can show us how to use the spells and correct us if we're going wrong.'
'If you're talking about Lupin . . .' Harry begins.
'No, no, I'm not talking about Lupin,' says Hermione. 'He's too busy with the Order and, anyway, the most we could see him is during Hogsmeade weekends and that's not nearly often enough.'
'Yeah, those are like once in two weeks, " Maya agrees, placing her chin in the palm of her hand, thinking hard, "I could ask Magnus, I guess . . . . but he'd probably tell my mom and the entire thing would be ruined, "
"What about your friends?" questions Hermione, "Alex, Jake and . . . . Isabella, I think?"
"Alec, Jace, and Isabelle, " Maya corrects, somewhat irritated, "They're not allowed out of New York unless it's on Clave business. And I don't think Maryse would take kindly to find out that they're helping us do something that's probably illegal. There's no way I can ask Tessa, she has a toddler to take care of . . . . "
'Who, then?' says Harry, frowning at Hermione. She heaves a very deep sigh. 'Isn't it obvious?' she says. 'I'm talking about you, Harry.'
There's a moment's silence. Maya is shocked. A light night breeze rattles the windowpanes behind Ron and the fire gutters.
'About me what?' says Harry.
'I'm talking about you teaching us Defence Against the Dark Arts.' Harry stares at her.
Then he turns to Ron, apparently looking for some support. Ron frowns slightly, apparently thinking.
Then he says, 'That's an idea.'
'What's an idea?' says Harry.
'You,' says Ron, 'Teaching us to do it.'
'But . . .' Harry grins now, sure the three of them are pulling his leg. 'But I'm not a teacher, I can't — '
'Harry, you're the best in the year at Defence Against the Dark Arts,' says Hermione.
'Me?' says Harry now grinning more broadly than ever. 'No I'm not, you've beaten me in every test — '
'Actually I haven't,' says Hermione coolly. 'You beat me in our third year — the only year we both sat the test and had a teacher who actually knew the subject. But I'm not talking about test results, Harry. Think what you've done!'
'How d'you mean?'
'You know what, I'm not sure I want someone this stupid teaching me,' Ron says to Hermione, smirking slightly. He turns to Harry. 'Let's think,' he says, pulling a face like Goyle concentrating. 'Uh . . . first year — you saved the Philosopher's Stone from You-Know-Who.'
'But that was luck,' says Harry, 'it wasn't skill — '
'Second year,' Ron interrupts, 'you killed the Basilisk and destroyed Riddle.'
'Yeah, but if Fawkes hadn't turned up, I — '
'Third year,' says Ron, louder still; Maya manages a snicker despite herself, 'you fought off about a hundred Dementors at once — '
'You know that was a fluke, if the Time-Turner hadn't — '
'Last year,' Ron says, almost shouting now, 'you fought off You-know-Who again — '
'Listen to me!' says Harry, almost angrily, 'Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck — I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help — '
Maya suddenly has a bad feeling about this whole conversation, 'Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?' he says heatedly. 'I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defence Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because — because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right — but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing — 'STOP LAUGHING!'
The bowl of Murtlap essence falls to the floor and smashes. Maya yelps in shock, jumping away. Crookshanks streaks away under a sofa. Church jolts awake, hissing at Harry. All of their smiles vanish.
'You don't know what it's like! You — Ron, Hermione — you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorising a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're sure you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own — your own brain or guts or whatever — 'like you can think straight when you know you're about a nanosecond from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die — 'they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that — and you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up — you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me —'
'We weren't saying anything like that, mate,' says, Ron, looking aghast. 'We weren't having a go at Diggory, we didn't — you've got the wrong end of the — '
He looks helplessly at Hermione, whose face is stricken.
'Harry,' she says, timidly, 'don't you see? This . . . this is exactly why we need you . . . we need to know what it's r-really like . . . facing him . . . facing V-Voldemort.'
'I was there with you, too, Harry, ' Maya blurts out, much to the shock of everyone around her; Ron and Hermione look aghast.
'I know what happened there more than anyone else. If — if it hadn't been for you, ' She breathes a bit harder, feeling tears form behind her eyes, 'T —they would've probably thrown me into Hell. You saved my life. So stop doubting yourself. I trained for years — ' she sucks in a harsh breath, feeling the tears spring up again, ' — I was taught to fight every kind of monster and demon imaginable. But you were still better than me when it came down to it. What do you think that says about you?'
Harry scoffs, expression somewhat softer now that she's spoken. Maya doesn't relent, tipping up his chin with her hand so he's forced to meet her eyes. He looks shocked at how bold she suddenly is.
'I'm not forcing you to do anything, ' She says, quietly, 'I'm not even encouraging this. But you deserve to have faith in yourself, after all that you've done. Please, think about it. You could help so many people by teaching them counterjinxes. I'll help, too, '
Harry looks at her, for a while. She isn't sure what she sees in his eyes. Then he swallows, weakly, and nods.
'I'll sleep on it, '
It takes until the first week of October to convince him.
'Where are we going, anyway?' Harry asks, as the five of them ( Diana included ) walk down the street, 'The Three Broomsticks?'
'Oh — no,' says Hermione, coming out of her reverie, 'no, it's always packed and really noisy. I've told the others to meet us in the Hog's Head, that other pub, you know the one, it's not on the main road. I think it's a bit . . . you know . . . dodgy . . . but students don't normally go in there, so I don't think we'll be overheard.'
Yup. Completely normal. Totally not suspicious at all.
They walk down the main street past Zonko's Wizarding Joke Shop, where they're not surprised to see Fred, George and Lee Jordan, past the post office, from which owls issue at regular intervals, and turn up a side-street at the top of which stands a small inn. A battered wooden sign hangs from a rusty bracket over the door, with a picture on it of a wild boar's severed head, leaking blood on to the white cloth around it. The sign creaks in the wind as they approach. All five of them hesitate outside the door.
'Well, come on,' says, Hermione, slightly nervously. Harry leads the way inside. It's not at all like the Three Broomsticks, whose large bar gives off an impression of gleaming warmth and cleanliness. The Hog's Head bar comprises of one small, dingy and very dirty room that smells strongly of something that might be goats. The bay windows are so encrusted with grime that very little daylight can permeate the room, which is lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seems at first glance to be compressed earth, though as Maya steps forward, she realizes that there's stone beneath what seems to be the accumulated filth of centuries
The patrons are even dodgier. There's a man at the bar whose whole head is wrapped in dirty grey bandages, though he still manages to gulp endless glasses of some smoking, fiery substance through a slit over his mouth; two figures shrouded in hoods sit at a table in one of the windows; Maya might think them Dementors if they weren't talking in strong Yorkshire accents, and in a shadowy corner beside the fireplace sits a witch with a thick, black veil that falls to her toes. They can just see the tip of her nose because it causes the veil to protrude slightly.
'I don't know about this, Hermione,' Harry mutters, as they cross to the bar. He looks at the heavily veiled witch. 'Has it occurred to you Umbridge might be under that?'
Hermione casts an appraising eye over the veiled figure. 'Umbridge is shorter than that woman,' she says, quietly. 'And anyway, even if Umbridge does come in here there's nothing she can do to stop us, because I've double- and triple-checked the school rules. We're not out of bounds; I specifically asked Professor Flitwick whether students were allowed to come in the Hog's Head, and he said yes, but he advised me strongly to bring our own glasses. And I've looked up everything I can think of about study groups and homework groups and they're definitely allowed. I just don't think it's a good idea if we parade what we're doing.'
'No,' says Harry, drily, 'especially as it's not exactly a homework group you're planning, is it?'
The barman sidles towards them out of a back room. He's a grumpy-looking old man with a great deal of long grey hair and beard.
'What?, " he grunts.
'Five Butterbeers, please,' says Hermione. The man reaches beneath the counter and pulled up five very dusty, very dirty bottles, which he slams on the bar. Maya jumps at the loud sound, almost crashing into Diana, who grabs her arm just in time.
'Ten Sickles,' he says.
'I'll get them,' says Harry quickly, passing over the silver before Maya can offer to pay. The barman's eyes travel over Harry, resting for a fraction of a second on his scar. Then he turns away and deposits Harry's money in an ancient wooden till whose drawer slides open automatically to receive it.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, Diana and Maya retreat to the furthest table from the bar and sit down, looking around. The man in the dirty grey bandages raps the counter with his knuckles and receives another smoking drink from the barman.
'You know what?' Ron murmurs, looking over at the bar with enthusiasm. 'We could order anything we liked in here. I bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. I've always wanted to try Firewhisky — '
'You — are — a — prefect,' snarls Hermione, looking murderous.
'Oh,' says Ron, the smile fading from his face. 'Yeah . . .'
'I could use some liquid courage, actually, ' Maya mutters, earning another glare from Hermione, taking a sip from her butterbeer and immediately spitting it back into her mug at the dusty taste, 'Would make whatever this is a lot more bearable, '
'So, who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?' Harry asks, wrenching open the rusty top of his Butterbeer and taking a swig.
'Just a couple of people,' Hermione repeats, checking her watch and looking anxiously towards the door. 'I told them to be here about now and I'm sure they all know where it is — oh, look, this might be them now.'
The door of the pub opens. A thick band of dusty sunlight splits the room in two for a moment and then vanishes, blocked by the incoming rush of a crowd of people. First come in Neville with Dean and Lavender, who are closely followed by Parvati and Padma Patil with (Harry's face turns very red at this) Cho and one of her usually-giggling girlfriends, then (on her own and looking so dreamy she might have walked in by accident) Luna Lovegood; then Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, Colin and Dennis Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff girl with a long plait down her back whose name Maya does not know; three Ravenclaw boys she's pretty sure are called Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, Ginny, closely followed by a tall skinny blond boy with an upturned nose whom Maya recognises vaguely as being a member of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team and, bringing up the rear, Fred and George Weasley with their friend Lee Jordan, all three of whom are carrying large paper bags crammed with Zonko's merchandise.
'A couple of people?' says Harry, panicking to Hermione. 'A couple of people?'
'Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular,' says Hermione happily. 'Ron, do you want to pull up some more chairs?'
The barman freezes in the act of wiping out a glass with a rag so filthy it looks as though it's never been washed. Possibly, he's never seen his pub so full.
'Hi,' says Fred, reaching the bar first and counting his companions quickly, 'could we have . . . twenty-five Butterbeers, please?'
The barman glares at him for a moment, then, throwing down his rag irritably as though he's been interrupted in something very important, he starts passing up dusty Butterbeers from under the bar.
'Cheers,' says Fred, handing them out. 'Cough up, everyone, I haven't got enough gold for all of these . . .'
Maya watches, frozen, as they start taking out their gold, chattering avidly as they do, 'That's a lot of people, Hermione' she whispers, trying to make her voice seem out of earshot.
'The more exposure, the better, ' says Hermione, completely unfazed. Maya gives her an incredulous look.
'What have you been telling people?' Harry says, in a low voice. 'What are they expecting?'
'I've told you, they just want to hear what you've got to say,' says Hermione soothingly; but Harry continues to look at her so furiously that she adds quickly, 'you don't have to do anything yet, I'll speak to them first.'
'Hi, Harry' says Neville, beaming and taking a seat opposite him. Cho just smiles at him and sits down on Ron's right. Her friend, who has curly reddish-blonde hair, doesn't smile, but gives Harry a thoroughly mistrustful look which plainly says that, given her way, she would not be here at all. In twos and threes, the new arrivals settled around the five of them, some looking rather excited, others curious, Luna Lovegood gazing dreamily into space. When everybody pulls up a chair, the chatter dies out. Every eye is upon Harry.
'Er,' says Hermione, her voice slightly higher than usual out of nerves. 'Well — er — hi.'
The group focuses its attention on her instead, though eyes continue to dart back regularly to Harry.
'Well . . . erm . . . well, you know why you're here. Erm . . . well, Harry here had the idea — I mean' (Harry gives her a sharp look) 'I had the idea — that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defence Against the Dark Arts — and I mean, really study it, you know, not the rubbish that Umbridge is doing with us — '(Hermione's voice becomes suddenly much stronger and more confident) ' — because nobody could call that Defence Against the Dark Arts — ' ('Hear, hear,' says Anthony Goldstein, and Hermione looks heartened) ' — Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.' She pauses, looks sideways at Harry and goes on, 'And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just in theory but doing the real spells — '
'You want to pass your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL too, though, I bet?' says, Michael Corner, who's watching her closely.
'Of course I do,' said Hermione at once. 'But more than that, I want to be properly trained in defence because . . . because . . .' she takes a great breath and finished, 'because Lord Voldemort is back.
The reaction is immediate and predictable. Cho's friend shrieks and slops Butterbeer down herself; Terry Boot gives a kind of involuntary twitch; Padma Patil shudders, and Neville gives an odd yelp that he manages to turn into a cough. Even Maya feels herself stiffen involuntarily. All of them, however, look fixedly, even eagerly, at Harry.
'Well . . . that's the plan, anyway,' says Hermione. 'If you want to join us, we need to decide how we're going to — '
'Where's the proof You-Know-Who's back?' says the blond Hufflepuff player in a rather aggressive voice. Maya feels an intense rush of dislike towards him.
'Well, Dumbledore believes it — ' Hermione begins.
'You mean, Dumbledore believes him,' says the blond boy, nodding at Harry.
'Who are you?' says Ron, rather rudely.
'Zacharias Smith,' says the boy, 'and I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You-Know-Who's back.'
'Look,' says Hermione, intervening swiftly, 'that's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about — '
'It's OK, Hermione,' says Harry, standing up. His expression is pensive.
'What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?' he repeats, looking Zacharias straight in the face. 'I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn't believe him, you won't believe me, and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.'
The whole group seems to have held its breath while Harry spoke. Maya has the impression that even the barman is listening. He wipes the same glass with the filthy rag, making it steadily dirtier.
Zacharias says dismissively, 'All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought Diggory's body back to Hogwarts. He didn't give us details, he didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, I think we'd all like to know — '
Maya snaps, standing up.
'It's none of your business, ' She snarls, looking him directly in the eye; Everyone stares at her with shock, Maya's breathing quite heavily, 'You want to know what it looks like when someone dies, Smith? I was there. I saw what happened with my own eyes — " Maya swallows, blinking back tears, " — But I'm not going to talk about it. I don't think any of us need a reminder of what happened — " ( Harry gives her a grateful look ) " — especially not now. So if that's what you're looking for, please get up and leave. None of us have time to waste on this, "
She sits back down, still feeling very hot all over. A few uncomfortable moments pass. None of them leave their seats, not even Zacharias Smith, though he continues to gaze intently at Maya. She glares back just as defiantly, chin pointed in the air
'So,' says Hermione, her voice very high-pitched again. 'So . . . like I was saying . . . if you want to learn some defence, then we need to work out how we're going to do it, how often we're going to meet and where we're going to — '
'Is it true,' interrupts the girl with the long plait down her back, looking at Harry, 'that you can produce a Patronus?' There's a murmur of interest around the group at this.
'Yeah,' says Harry, slightly defensively.
'A corporeal Patronus?'
'Er — you don't know Madam Bones, do you?' he asks.
The girl smiles. 'She's my auntie,' she says 'I'm Susan Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?'
'Yes,' says Harry.
'Blimey, Harry!' says Lee, looking deeply impressed. 'I never knew that!'
'Mum told Ron not to spread it around,' says Fred, grinning at Harry. 'She said you got enough attention as it was.'
'She's not wrong,' mumbles Harry, and a couple of people laugh. The veiled witch sitting alone shifts very slightly in her seat.
'And did you kill a Basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore's office?' demands Terry Boot, 'That's what one of the portraits on the wall told me when I was in there last year . . .'
'Er — yeah, I did, yeah,' says Harry. Justin Finch-Fletchley whistles; the Creevey brothers exchange awestruck looks and Lavender Brown says 'Wow!' softly. Harry determinedly looks anywhere but Cho.
'And in our first year,' says Neville to the group at large, 'he saved that Philological Stone — '
'Philosopher's,' hisses Hermione. Maya and Diana glance at each other, trying to hide their laughter. 'Yes, that — from You-Know-Who,' finishes Neville. Hannah Abbott's eyes are as round as Galleons.
'And that's not to mention,' says Cho, smiling; Harry looks awestruck, 'all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year — getting past dragons and merpeople and Acromantula and things . . .'
There's a murmur of impressed agreement around the table. Harry looks like he's trying not to look too pleased with himself.
'Look,' he says, and everyone fell silent at once, 'I . . . I don't want to sound like I'm trying to be modest or anything, but . . . I had a lot of help with all that stuff . . .'
'Not with the dragon, you didn't,' says Michael Corner at once. 'That was a seriously cool bit of flying . . .'
'Yeah, well — ' says Harry, trying his best to disagree.
'And nobody helped you get rid of those Dementors this summer,' says Susan Bones.
'No,' says Harry, 'no, OK, I know I did bits of it without help, but the point I'm trying to make is — '
'Are you trying to weasel out of showing us any of this stuff?' says Zacharias Smith. Maya wants to throw her butterbeer at him.
'Here's an idea,' says Ron loudly, before Maya can tell him off, 'why don't you shut your mouth?'
Perhaps the word 'weasel' has affected Ron particularly strongly. In any case, he now looks at Zacharias as though he would like nothing better than to thump him.
Zacharias flushes. 'Well, we've all turned up to learn from him and now he's telling us he can't really do any of it,' he says.
'That's not what he said at all — ' Diana snaps, but the Weasley twins beat her to it.
'Would you like us to clean out your ears for you?' enquires Greorge, pulling a long and lethal-looking metal instrument from inside one of the Zonko's bags.
'Or any part of your body, really, we're not fussy where we stick this,' says Fred.
'I have a few suggestions' Maya mutters, in Diana's ear, as the latter girl snorts.
'Yes, well, ' says, Hermione hastily, moving on . . . the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?'
There's a murmur of general agreement. Zacharias folds his arms and says nothing, though perhaps this is because he's too busy keeping an eye on the instrument in Fred's hand.
'Right,' says Hermione, looking relieved that something has at last been settled. 'Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week — '
'Hang on,' says Angelina, 'we need to make sure this doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice.'
'No,' says Cho, 'nor with ours.'
'Nor ours,' adds Zacharias Smith.
'I'm sure we can find a night that suits everyone,' says Hermione, slightly impatiently, 'but you know, this is rather important, we're talking about learning to defend ourselves against V-Voldemort's Death Eaters — '
'Well said!' barks Ernie Macmillan, much to Maya's surprise. 'Personally, I think this is really important, possibly more important than anything else we'll do this year, even with our OWLs coming up!'
He looks around impressively, as though waiting for people to cry 'Surely not!' When nobody speaks, he goes on, 'I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher on us at this critical period. Obviously, they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells — '
'We think the reason Umbridge doesn't want us trained in Defence Against the Dark Arts,' says Hermione, 'is that she's got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he'd mobilise us against the Ministry'
Nearly everybody looks stunned at this news; everybody except Luna Lovegood, who pipes up, 'Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army' '
'What?' sputters Maya, shocked. How much news has she missed?
'Yes, he's got an army of Heliopaths,' says Luna solemnly.
'No, he hasn't,' snaps Hermione.
'Yes, he has,' says Luna. '
'What are Heliopaths?' asks Neville, looking blank.
'They're spirits of fire,' says Luna, her protuberant eyes widening so that she looks madder than ever, 'great tall flaming creatures that gallop across the ground burning everything in front of — '
'They don't exist, Neville,' says Hermione tartly
'Oh, yes, they do!' says Luna angrily.
'I'm sorry, but where's the proof of that?' snaps Hermione.
'There are plenty of eye-witness accounts. Just because you're so narrow-minded you need to have everything shoved under your nose before you — '
'Hem, hem,' says Ginny, in such a good imitation of Professor Umbridge that several people look around in alarm and then laugh. 'Weren't we trying to decide how often we're going to meet and have defence lessons?
' 'Yes,' says Hermione at once, 'yes, we were, you're right, Ginny.'
'Well, once a week sounds cool,' says Lee Jordan.
'As long as — ' begins Angelina.
'Yes, yes, we know about the Quidditch,' says Hermione in a tense voice. 'Well, the other thing to decide is where we're going to meet . . .'
This is rather difficult; the whole group falls silent. '
Library?' suggests Katie Bell after a few moments.
'I can't see Madam Pince being too chuffed with us doing jinxes in the library,' says Harry.
'Maybe an unused classroom?' says Dean.
'Yeah,' says Ron, 'McGonagall might let us have hers, she did when Harry was practicing for the Triwizard.'
Maya has the inkling that McGonagall wouldn't be too pleased to host an illegal student organization in the same room in which she teaches.
'Right, well, we'll try to find somewhere,' says Hermione. 'We'll send a message round to everybody when we've got a time and a place for the first meeting.'
She rummages in her bag and produces parchment and a quill, then hesitates, rather as though she's steeling herself to say something.
'I — I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think,' she takes a deep breath, 'that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge or anybody else what we're up to.'
Fred reaches out for the parchment and cheerfully wrote his signature, but Maya notices at once that several people look less than happy at the prospect of putting their names on the list.
'Er . . .' says Zacharias slowly, not taking the parchment that George is trying to pass to him, 'well . . . I'm sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is.'
But Ernie looks rather hesitant about signing, too. Hermione raises her eyebrows at him.
'I — well, we are prefects,' Ernie bursts out. 'And if this list was found . . . well, I mean to say . . . you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out — '
'You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year,' Maya reminds him.
'I — yes,' says Ernie, 'yes, I do believe that, it's just — '
'Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?' says Hermione testily.
'No. No, of course not,' says Ernie, looking slightly less anxious. 'I — yes, of course I'll sign.'
Nobody raises objections after Ernie, though Maya sees Cho's friend give her a rather reproachful look before adding her own name. She quickly scrawls hers in rounded cursive, as does Diana. When the last person — Zacharias, unfortunately — has signed, Hermione takes the parchment back and slips it carefully into her bag. There's an odd feeling in the group now. It's as though they've just signed some kind of contract.
'Well, time's ticking on,' says Fred briskly, getting to his feet. 'George, Lee and I have got items of a sensitive nature to purchase, we'll be seeing you all later.'
In twos and threes the rest of the group take their leave, too. Cho makes rather a business of fastening the catch on her bag before leaving, her long dark curtain of hair swinging forwards to hide her face, but her friend stands beside her, arms folded, clicking her tongue, so that Cho has little choice but to leave with her.
As her friend ushers her through the door, Cho looks back and waves at Harry. He waves back, face scarlet. Maya bites her lip to hold in her laughter.
'Well, I think that went quite well,' says, Hermione happily, as the five of them walk out of the Hog's Head into the bright sunlight a few moments later. Harry and Ron were clutching their bottles of Butterbeer.
'That Zacharias bloke's a wart,' says Ron, who glowers after the figure of Smith, just discernible in the distance.
'I don't like him much, either,' admits Hermione, 'but he overheard me talking to Ernie and Hannah at the Hufflepuff table and he seemed really interested in coming, so what could I say? But the more people the better really — I mean, Michael Corner and his friends wouldn't have come if he hadn't been going out with Ginny — '
Ron, who was been draining the last few drops from his Butterbeer bottle, gags and sprays Butterbeer down his front. Diana breaks into laughter, clutching her sides to hold herself up. Maya pats her back, grinning.
'He's WHAT?' splutters Ron, outraged, his ears now resembling curls of raw beef. 'She's going out with — my sister's going — what d'you mean, Michael Corner?'
'Well, that's why he and his friends came, I think — well, they're obviously interested in learning defense, but if Ginny hadn't told Michael what was going on — '
'When did this — when did she —?'
'They met at the Yule Ball and got together at the end of last year,' says Hermione composedly. They've turned into the High Street and she pauses outside Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, where there's a handsome display of pheasant feather quills in the window. 'Hmm . . . I could do with a new quill.'
'But — Ginny — ' Ron sputters, looking completely confused, as Harry snorts, following Hermione inside. Maya has an uneasy thought and turns to Diana, who looks at her, curiously.
'What?' questions the Hufflepuff, as Maya nervously traces the inside of her cheek with her tongue.
'Won't — ' Maya tries, after a few moments, 'Won't your brother be mad that you're doing this?'
Diana smirks, looking identical to the grey-eyed blond that Maya mentioned mere seconds earlier. The same one who makes her stomach flip over every time their eyes meet.
'Who says I'm going to tell him?'
Chapter 28: Chapter 28
Chapter Text
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded. An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled. The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor.
"Do you think she knows?" Diana tucks a piece of her ash-blonde hair behind her ear, emerald eyes wide with fear. It's longer now, falling in silky wisps to her shoulders. She looks quite pretty like this, Maya thinks to herself, despite the tense feeling in her stomach, face alight with a certain glow that she didn't have last year.
Matter of fact, something is different about Diana. She keeps disappearing to the "library" ( Maya can never seem to find her at the aforementioned place ), for hours at a time, coming back with a flush in her cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. One that isn't borne from reading.
Maya has an inkling it's to do with the "old friend" that keeps popping up in her excuses.
"We'll figure it out, " she replies, somewhat gravely. Her tone changes to playful as she twirls a strand of short hair around her finger, cocking her head to the side, "Besides, we're technically not going against any rules . . . . yet "
“There were people listening in that pub, " Harry mutters, darkly , "And let’s face it, we don’t know how many of the people who turned up we can trust… any of them could have run off and told Umbridge…”
“Zacharias Smith!” says Ron at once, punching a fist into his hand. “Or - I thought that Michael Corner had a really shifty look, too -”
“I wonder if Hermione’s seen this yet?” Harry says, looking round at the door to the girls’ dormitories.
“Let’s go and tell her,” says Ron. He bounds forwards, pulls open the door and sets off up the spiral staircase.
Diana shares a rueful look with Maya, "Should we tell them that they're going to get thrown out?"
"Nope" Maya replies, popping the 'p', smirking, "It'll be more fun to watch"
Twenty minutes later, a disheveled Harry and Ron re-emerge, looking as though they've been thrown down a few stairs, along with Hermione, whose bushy hair is secured in a bun on top of her head. She takes one look at the poster and frowns for a few moments.
“They can’t have done,” says Hermione in a low voice.
“You’re so naive,” says Ron, “you think just because you’re all honorable and trustworthy -”
“No, they can’t have done, because I put a jinx on that piece of parchment we all signed,” says Hermione grimly. “Believe me, if anyone’s run off and told Umbridge, we’ll know exactly who they are and they will really regret it.”
“What’ll happen to them?” questions Diana.
“Well, put it this way” says Hermione, a ghost of a smirk on her face, “it’ll make Eloise Midgeon’s acne look like a couple of cute freckles. Come on, let’s get down to breakfast and see what the others think… I wonder whether this has been put up in all the houses?”
It's immediately apparent on entering the Great Hall that Umbridge’s sign has not only appeared in Gryffindor Tower. There's a peculiar intensity about the chatter and an extra measure of movement in the Hall as people scurry up and down their tables, conferring on what they have read. The five of them barely take their seats when Neville, Dean, Fred, George and Ginny descend upon them.
“Did you see it?”
“D’you reckon she knows?”
“What are we going to do?”
They all look at Harry. He glances around to make sure there are no teachers near them.
“We’re going to do it anyway of course,” he says, quietly.
“Knew you’d say that”‘ says George, beaming and thumping Harry on the arm.
“The prefects as well?” says Fred, looking quizzically at Ron and Hermione
“Of course,” says Hermione coolly.
“Here come Ernie and Hannah Abbott,” says Ron, looking over his shoulder. “And those Ravenclaw blokes and Smith… and no one looks very spotty.”
Hermione looks alarmed. “Never mind spots, the idiots can’t come over here now, it’ll look really suspicious - sit down!” she mouths to Ernie and Hannah, gesturing frantically to them to rejoin the Hufflepuff table. “Later! We’ll - talk - to - you - later!”
Yeah. Not suspicious at all.
“I’ll tell Michael,” says Ginny impatiently, swinging herself off her bench, “the fool, honestly…” She hurries off towards the Ravenclaw table; Maya takes a sip of her coffee and chokes at how bitter it is.
Of course she had to accidentally pour herself black.
Though, considering the mere hour of sleep she's gotten in the past week combined, Maya wouldn't be surprised if she unintentionally manages to set the Potions lab on fire with her horrible coordination.
As her eyes search for the quintessential jug of milk, Maya feels a pair of eyes boring between her shoulder blades. She fidgets, an unsettling feeling creeping up the back of her neck. Maya turns around in her seat, and comes face-to-face with the last person she wants to see right now.
Umbridge is sitting at the teacher's table. Her position is such that she has a clear view of everything that's going on in the area which Maya and her friends are seated. The same feeling of rage hits Maya as soon as their eyes meet - she looks triumphant, a satisfied glint in her mouse-brown hues. A sickly sweet smile is painted onto her shell-pink lips, hands folded professionally in front of her on the table.
The other teachers around her are rigid; for what reason, Maya can't process. McGonagall's mouth is set in a grave thin line; Flitwick scans the headlines of the Daily Prophet with a look of determined concentration. Grubbly-Plank is the only one who seems unaffected, eating her eggs and sausages with an almost indecent amount of enthusiasm. Umbridge still keeps eye contact with her throughout all of this, her expression one of superiority. Like she's trying to cut her down to size, show Maya where she really belongs.
This bitch is going down, Maya thinks to herself, venomously. She needs to do something, something that'll shake the toad up. Remind her exactly who she's dealing with.
After all, when has Maya ever been one to give up easily?
She smirks, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs in a show of dominance. Her cobalt eyes never leave Umbridge's dirt-colored ones; she sees the same, unwavering expression painted onto the woman's face.
Just as Umbridge raises her mug of tea to her lips, Maya grabs her coffee. She thrusts it in her direction, as if to accompany her to a toast ― Maya sees her expression flicker at this.
Maya jauntily raises the cup to her lips ― then downs the entire thing in one go.
Umbridge's face falls; she now looks shocked, as though she's just been slapped. Maya internally congratulates herself as she turns back around, rejoining her classmates in whatever conversation is currently playing out at the Gryffindor table. She grins as she cuts into her French toast, her appetite suddenly coming back with her good mood.
Dominance? Asserted.
Maya doesn't think she's ever felt this smug in her life.
At half past seven, the five of them leave the Gryffindor common room, Harry clutching a piece of aged parchment in his hand. Fifth-years are allowed to be out in the corridors until nine o'clock, but all five of them keep looking around nervously as they make their way along the seventh floor. Diana grips Maya's hand nervously. She squeezes it back.
'Hold it,' Harry warns, unfolding the piece of parchment at the top of the last staircase, tapping it with his wand and muttering, 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
A map of Hogwarts appears on the blank surface of the parchment. Tiny black moving dots, labelled with names, show where various people are.
'Filch is on the second floor,' says Harry, holding the map close to his eyes, 'and Mrs Norris is on the fourth.'
'And Umbridge?' says Hermione anxiously.
'In her office,' says Harry, pointing. 'OK, let's go.'
They hurry along the corridor to a stretch of blank wall opposite an enormous tapestry depicting Barnabas the Barmy's foolish attempt to train trolls for the ballet.
'OK,' says Harry quietly, while a moth-eaten troll pauses in his relentless clubbing of the would-be ballet teacher to watch them. 'Dobby said to walk past this bit of wall three times, concentrating hard on what we need.'
They do so, turning sharply at the window just beyond the blank stretch of wall, then at the man-sized vase on its other side. Ron screws up his eyes in concentration; Hermione whispers something under her breath; Harry's fists are clenched as he stares ahead of him; Diana breathes in sharply; Maya repeats the same phrase over and over in her head.
Give us somewhere where we can learn to fight, she thinks, repeatedly, somewhere safe, where Umbridge can't find us.
'Harry!' says Hermione sharply, as they wheel around after their third walk past. A highly polished door appears in the wall. Ron stares at it, looking slightly wary. Harry reaches out, seizes the brass handle, pulls open the door and leads the way into a spacious room lit with flickering torches like those that illuminate the dungeons eight floors below.
The walls are lined with wooden bookcases and instead of chairs there are large silk cushions on the floor. A set of shelves at the far end of the room carries a range of instruments such as Sneakoscopes, Secrecy Sensors and a large, cracked Foe-Glass that looks astonishingly familiar to Mata.
'These will be good when we're practising Stunning,' says Ron enthusiastically, prodding one of the cushions with his foot.
'And just look at these books!' says Hermione excitedly, running a finger along the spines of the large leather-bound tomes. 'A Compendium of Common Curses and their Counter-Actions . . . The Dark Arts Outsmarted . . . Self-Defensive Spellwork . . . wow . . .'
She looks around at Maya, her face glowing, the presence of hundreds of books finally convincing Hermione that what they're doing is right. 'This is wonderful, there's everything we need here!'
By the time eight o'clock arrives, every cushion is occupied. Harry moves across to the door and turns the key protruding from the lock; it clicks in a satisfyingly loud way and everybody falls silent, looking at him. Hermione carefully marks her page of Jinxes for the Jinxed and sets the book aside.
'Well,' says Harry, slightly nervously. This is the place we've found for practice sessions, and you've — er — obviously found it OK.'
'It's fantastic!' says Cho, and several people murmur their agreement.
'It's bizarre,' says Fred, frowning around at it. 'We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broom cupboard then.'
'Hey, Harry, what's this stuff?' asks Dean from the rear of the room, indicating the Sneakoscopes and the Foe-Glass.
'Dark detectors,' says Harry, stepping between the cushions to reach them. 'Basically they all show when Dark wizards or enemies are around, but you don't want to rely on them too much, they can be fooled, "
Harry looks into the glass for a few moments, then turns his back on it. 'Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first and — er — ' Hermione raises her eyebrows. 'What, Hermione?'
'I think we ought to elect a leader,' says Hermione.
'Harry's leader,' says Cho at once, looking at Hermione as though she's mad. Harry tries not to look pleased with himself; Maya snickers under her breath at the expression on his face.
'He's whipped' mutters Diana, under her breath.
'Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,' says Hermione, unperturbed. 'It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So — 'everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?'
Everybody puts up their hand, Maya and Diana included, even Zacharias Smith, though he does it very half-heartedly.
'Er — right, thanks,' says Harry, whose face is burning. 'And — what, Hermione?'
'I also think we ought to have a name,' she says, brightly, her hand still in the air. 'It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?'
'Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?' says Angelina hopefully.
'Or the Ministry of Magic are Morons Group?' suggests Fred.
'I was thinking,' says Hermione, frowning at Fred, 'more of a name that didn't tell everyone what we were up to, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings.'
'Also, I think Umbridge would be pretty suspicious if we suddenly started whispering about ways to overthrow her, ' Maya adds, a smirk curling around the corner of her mouth, "Not that I wouldn't want to, but still . . . . "
A few laughs emit from the room; some of the people start to look less nervous.
'The Defence Association?' says Cho. 'The DA for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?'
'Yeah, the DA's good,' says Ginny. 'Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army, because that's the Ministry's worst fear, isn't it?'
There's a good deal of appreciative murmuring and laughter at this.
'All in favour of the DA?' said Hermione bossily, kneeling up on her cushion to count. That's a majority — motion passed!'
She pins the piece of parchment with all of their signatures on it on to the wall and writes across the top in large letters: DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY.
Very subtle.
'Right,' says Harry, when she sits down again, 'shall we get practising then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic but I've found it really useful — '
'Oh, please,' says Zacharias Smith, rolling his eyes and folding his arms. 'I don't think Expelliarmus is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?'
'Do you plan to pursue a career in the field of being a pain in the ass?' Maya snaps, done with his behaviour, 'I'm sure you'd be very good at it, considering your amazing habit of interrupting people, "
Diana snickers; Hermione bites her lip to keep from laughing; Ron looks astonished; Fred and George are smirking silently to themselves. Zacharias goes pale and breaks eye contact with her, suddenly very interested in the stone floor beneath them.
'I've used it against him,' says Harry quietly. 'It saved Maya and I's lives in June.'
Smith opens his mouth stupidly. Maya gives him a deadly look. The rest of the room is very quiet.
'But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave,' Harry says.
Smith does not move, though he eyes Maya warily out of the corner of his eye. Nor does anybody else.
'OK,' says Harry, looking uncomfortable at the amount of attention he's getting, 'I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practise.'
Everybody gets to their feet at once and divides up, Maya with Diana, Seamus with Dean, Parvati with Lavender, and so on. Predictably, Neville is left partnerless.
'You can practise with me,' Harry tells him. 'Right — on the count of three, then — one, two, three — '
Absolute chaos erupts all around the room. Wands fly in all directions; missed spells hit books on shelves and send them flying into the air. Maya reacts before Diana can act; her wand neatly flies out of her hand and onto the floor. Before it can land there, however, Diana catches it and gets Maya off guard, hitting her with the curse perfectly, wand immediately dropping to the floor.
Maya stares at her, impressed, 'That . . . . . that was really fast, '
Diana shrugs, smiling somewhat sheepishly, 'I've had practice, '
'Expelliarmus! says Neville, victoriously and Harry, caught unawares, lets his wand fly out of his hand.
'I DID IT!' says Neville gleefully. 'I've never done it before — I DID IT!' . His look of victory is so adorable that Maya can't help with grin herself, high-fiving him as he beams.
The rest of the time goes by quite quickly; through all of the chaos, Harry still somehow manages to teach them a few decent things. The call to adjourn, however, comes when Terry Boot's wand goes whizzing past Harry's ear and hits Alicia Spinnet hard on the nose.
'Hey, Harry,' Hermione calls from the other end of the room, right on time 'have you checked the time?'
Maya looks at her watch in alarm; it's ten minutes past nine, quite close to curfew. Filch will definitely catch them if they don't leave soon.
Harry blows his whistle; everybody stops shouting their spells and the last couple of wands clatter to the floor.
'Well, that was pretty good,' says Harry, 'but we've overrun, we'd better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?'
'Sooner!' says Dean Thomas eagerly and many people nodd in agreement.
Angelina, however, says quickly, 'The Quidditch season's about to start, we need team practices too!'
'Let's say next Wednesday night, then,' says Harry, 'we can decide on additional meetings then. Come on, we'd better get going.'
'This was pretty fun, ' muses Diana, as everyone packs up their things.
'It's also pretty illegal, ' Maya purses her lips as she hastily shoves a random notebook inside her bag, 'God knows how we're going to get away with doing this behind Umbridge's back. '
'Why do those two words always seem to go together in our vocabulary?' Diana muses this, tapping her chin in faux-thought.
Maya rolls her eyes, 'Because we need to find better hobbies, '
Before Maya knows it, the first Quidditch match of the year is here - Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. She walks down to the pitch in the gleaming afternoon sunlight, Diana happily trailing behind her with her Hufflepuff scarf. This week has been blessed with particularly nice weather - which is weird, considering it's already mid-October. But Maya enjoys the sunshine on her skin all the same, finding that it slightly enhances her mood during these grim times they're living in.
Her outfit is particularly nice today, considering that it's warmer than usual. A pretty burgundy silk slip decorates her upper half, the cowl neckline plunging a little on her chest and showing off her collarbones nicely. It's partly-tucked into her bottoms, distressed, form-fitting black jeans that make her legs and hips look quite good, if she says so herself. She doesn't miss the looks she gets as she walks down the pitch; the way some of the girls raise their eyebrows and some of the boys's eyes follow her figure as she tries to find a seat. In fact, Maya knows very well that her somewhat-revealing clothes are bound to attract attention - both the good and bad kinds. It makes her a bit self-conscious, as she sits down next to Diana, legs coming a bit closer together because of not being used to the attention. However, Maya manages to hold her head high, and distract herself from the unwelcome stares by looking ahead.
And directly at the unavoidable brother of the Hufflepuff that's sitting next to her right now.
Draco Malfoy stands to one side, dressed fully in his emerald-green quidditch uniform. He hasn't noticed her yet ( thankfully, Maya thinks to herself, she doesn't suppose she could handle another awkward interaction between them ), too busy fiddling with his seeker's gloves with a frown on his face. His hair isn't gelled like it usually is; rather, it looks quite soft and shiny in the sunlight, falling around his face in a somewhat ( Maya can't believe she's admitting this ) attractive manner. Maya unintentionally bites her lip as she scans his tall, brooding figure. She has to admit, his clothes fit him well; He cuts a fine figure in his quidditch uniform, lithe and strong. Something drops in her stomach as he lifts up an arm to run a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. She can see the lean, strong muscle flex underneath his sleeve, and the way the light hits his face . . . . . brightening up his eyes, falling over his cheekbones, angling him in such a perfect light that Maya can't stop the way her stomach completely flips over at the sight in front of her.
Then his eyes meet hers, and something inside her shrivels up and dies out of sheer mortification.
Maya flames red as she sharply looks away, eyes wide with horror. She stares at the sky above her, at the puffy, white clouds suspended in the heavens. They're the last thing she takes an interest in; although constellations are something she finds beautiful, they've never been fascinating enough for her to take an interest in them. But anything is better than being forced to look at —oh—oh GOD—
She's an idiot. A shameless, bumbling, idiot who can't keep her eyes to herself. He probably thought she was checking him out. Oh God — Maya screws her eyes shut in shame — what was she thinking? A simple glance wouldn't have caused any harm; she was just acknowledging the fact that he was there. On the pitch. In his uniform. Running a hand through his sunlit hair, eyes glittering, lips parted, cheekbones sharp and angled—
Fucking fuckety fuck.
The thought that she finds Draco Malfoy attractive should make her feel disgusted with herself, but somehow, Maya feels something coil in her lower abdomen. A faint spark hinting at something . . . . . . something more than what strained relationship they currently share . . . .
It's just hormones, Maya tells herself, trying to find some semblance of reason in her frazzled state of mind. That has to be it. She's a warm-blooded female. He's a warm-blooded male. This is nothing. Absolutely nothing. There's nothing wrong with acknowledging that someone looks good. It's not like she'll ever have romantic feelings for him. Why is she even thinking about dating Draco Malfoy? He's her best friend's brother. He almost sold her out to Voldemort. Totally, completely off-limits. Right?
Right?
'Captains, shake hands,' orders the referee Madam Hooch, as Angelina and Montague reach each other. Maya, even in her distracted state, can tell that Montague is trying to crush Angelina's fingers, though she doesn't wince.
'Mount your brooms . . .' Madam Hooch places her whistle in her mouth and blows. The balls are released and the fourteen players shoot upwards. Ron streaks off toward the goal hoops. Harry zooms high up, his scarlet robes flapping out behind him, dodging a Bludger, and sets off on a wide lap of the pitch, gazing around for a glint of gold; on the other side of the stadium, Draco Malfoy is doing exactly the same. Maya determinedly avoids eye contact with him, choosing instead to focus on Lee Jordan's commentary for the match.
'And it's Johnson — 'Johnson with the Quaffle, what a player that girl is, I've been saying it for years but she still won't go out with me — ' JORDAN!' yells Professor McGonagall. ' — just a fun fact, Professor, adds a bit of interest — and she's ducked Warrington, she's passed Montague, she's — ouch — been hit from behind by a Bludger from Crabbe . . . Montague catches the Quaffle, Montague heading back up the pitch and — nice Bludger there from George Weasley, that's a Bludger to the head for Montague, he drops the Quaffle, caught by Katie Bell, Katie Bell of Gryffindor reverse-passes to Alicia Spinnet and Spinnet's away — '
Lee Jordan's notes ring through the stadium and the din of the crowd hits Maya in full force, all yelling and booing and singing.
' — dodges Warrington, avoids a Bludger — close call, Alicia — and the crowd are loving this, just listen to them, what's that they're singing?'
And as Lee pauses to listen, the song rises loud and clear from the sea of green and silver in the Slytherin section of the stands. Maya's blood boils as soon as she hears the words:
'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring,
That's why Slytherins all sing:
Weasley is our King. '
Weasley was born in a bin
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley will make sure we win
Weasley is our King.'
' — and Alicia passes back to Angelina!' Lee shouts, as Harry swerves in the air dangerously, trying to drown out the words of the song. 'Come on now, Angelina — looks like she's got just the Keeper to beat! — SHE SHOOTS — SHE — aaaah . . .'
Bletchley, the Slytherin Keeper, has saved the goal; he throws the Quaffle to Warrington who speeds off with it, zig-zagging in between Alicia and Katie; the singing from below grows louder and louder as he draws nearer and nearer Ron.
'Weasley is our King,
Weasley is our King,
He always lets the Quaffle in
Weasley is our King.'
Ron stans rigid, a lone figure at the far end of the pitch, hovering before the three goalhoops while the massive Warrington pelts towards him. Maya tries to warn him, but her efforts are futile over the roar of the crowd
' — and it's Warrington with the Quaffle, Warrington heading for goal, he's out of Bludger range with just the Keeper ahead — '
A great swell of song rises from the Slytherin stands below:
'Weasley cannot save a thing,
He cannot block a single ring . . .'
' — so it's the first test for new Gryffindor Keeper Weasley, brother of Beaters Fred and George, and a promising new talent on the team — come on, Ron!'
But the scream of delight comes from the Slytherins' end. Ron dives wildly, his arms wide, and the Quaffle soars between them, straight through Ron's central hoop.
'Slytherin score!' comes Lee's voice amid the cheering and booing from the crowds below, 'so that's ten-nil to Slytherin — bad luck, Ron.'
'This is a dirty trick, that's what it is . . . . . ' mutters Diana, darkly, arms crossed over her chest, 'Just wait til I get my brother alone — he'll be lucky if I decide against turning him into a ferret again . . . . . bullying bastard . . . . "
The Slytherins sing even louder:
'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN. . .'
' — and Gryffindor back in possession and it's Katie Bell tanking up the pitch — ' cries Lee valiantly, though the singing is now so deafening that he can hardly make himself heard above it.
'WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN
WEASLEY IS OUR KING . . .'
Harry suddenly goes into a dive and starts circling the pitch again, clearly trying to avoid the jeers ensuing below.
'WEASLEY IS OUR KING,
WEASLEY IS OUR KING . . .'
Malfoy still circles the stadium just as Harry is, a fiercely determined expression on his face. They pass one another midway around the pitch, going in opposite directions, and Maya can see him mouthing the lyrics: 'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN . . .'
' — and it's Warrington again,' bellows Lee, 'who passes to Pucey, Pucey's off past Spinnet, come on now, Angelina, you can take him - turns out you can't — but nice Bludger from Fred Weasley I mean, George Weasley, oh, who cares, one of them, anyway, and Warrington drops the Quaffle and Katie Bell — er — drops it, too — so that's Montague with the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Montague takes the Quaffle and he's off up the pitch, come on now, Gryffindor, block him!'
Harry zooms around the end of the stadium behind the Slytherin goalhoops, just as Bletchley sings along with the crowd below: 'WEASLEY CANNOT SAVE A THING . . .'
' — and Pucey's dodged Alicia again and he's heading straight for goal, stop it, Ron!'
Pansy Parkinson is right at the front of the stands, looking more pug-ish than ever, her back to the pitch as she conducts the Slytherin supporters who are roaring: 'THAT'S WHY SLYTHERINS ALL SING WEASLEY IS OUR KING.
Ron lets in two more goals, ' — and Katie Bell of Gryffindor dodges Pucey, ducks Montague, nice swerve, Katie, and she throws to Johnson, Angelina Johnson takes the Quaffle, she's past Warrington, she's heading for goal, come on now, Angelina — GRYFFINDOR SCORE! It's forty-ten, forty-ten to Slytherin and Pucey has the Quaffle . . .'
Luna's ludicrous lion hat roars amidst the Gryffindor cheers and Maya feels somewhat relieved; only thirty points in it, that was nothing, they can pull back easily. Harry ducks a Bludger that Crabbe has sent rocketing in his direction and resumes his frantic scouring of the pitch for the Snitch, trailing directly behind Malfoy . . .
' — Pucey throws to Warrington, Warrington to Montague, Montague back to Pucey — 'Johnson intervenes, Johnson takes the Quaffle, Johnson to Bell, this looks good — I mean bad — Bell's hit by a Bludger from Goyle of Slytherin and it's Pucey in possession again . . .'
'WEASLEY WAS BORN IN A BIN
HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN
WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN . . .'
He dives . . . In a matter of seconds, Malfoy streaks out of the sky on Harry's left, a green and silver blur lying flat on his broom . . . The Snitch skirts the foot of one of the goalhoops and scoots off towards the other side of the stands; its change of direction suits Malfoy, who's nearer; Harry pulls his Firebolt around, nervously, Maya watches as he and Malfoy are now neck and neck . . .
And without warning, his fingers close around the snitch.
Harry pulls his broom upwards as cheers erupt from the stands, Maya and Diana included. Maya wants to sob from the relief that Gryffindor has won. Despite it all, they've managed to remain vic— '
A Bludger hits Harry before she can blink.
Diana shrieks in horror as Maya gasps. He lands flat on his back on the frozen pitch.
Everything descends into chaos from then.
By the time Maya and Diana manage to push through the crowd and get down there, the two teams are neck-and-neck. Harry and Malfoy are shouting at each other, nasty insults flying from both of their lips. Maya gulps as Draco Malfoy lifts up his shirt to wipe away the sweat on his forehead, immediately averting her eyes so she doesn't accidentally catch a glimpse of his toned abdomen.
His eyes rest on her for a split second before he continues spewing venom at Harry.
'Saved Weasley's neck, haven't you?' he says, to Harry. 'I've never seen a worse Keeper . . . but then he was born in a bin . . . did you like my lyrics, Potter?'
Harry doesn't answer. Maya glares daggers at him. He still has the audacity to continue.
'We wanted to write another couple of verses!' Malfoy calls, as Katie and Alicia hug Harry. 'But we couldn't find rhymes for fat and ugly — we wanted to sing about his mother, see — '
'Malfoy, if you don't shut up — ' Maya warns, eyes flashing.
He still ignores her, the cocky bastard.
' — we couldn't fit in useless loser either — for his father, you know — '
Fred and George realise what Malfoy was talking about. Halfway through shaking Harry's hand, they stiffen, looking round at Malfoy. Maya's hands clench into fists, nails painfully digging into her palms.
'Leave it!' says Angelina at once, taking Fred by the arm. 'Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he's just sore he lost, the jumped-up little —'
' — but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter?' says Malfoy, sneering. 'Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasleys' hovel smells OK — '
It takes the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Malfoy, who laughs openly. Madam Hooch is nowhere to be found.
'Or perhaps,' says Malfoy, leering as he backs away, 'you can remember what your mother's house stank like, Potter, and Weasley's pigsty reminds you of it — '
Suddenly, Harry throws himself at Malfoy. Diana screams and rushes forward as the two boys fly at each other, fists colliding as they kick and punch. The Gryffindor team is shouting; Madam Hooch frantically blows her whistle; Maya tries to drag Diana away from the scene, but the Hufflepuff won't stop resisting.
'No, Draco — no!!" Diana screams, horrified, as her brother punches Harry straight across the face. They're somehow back on their feet again, tumbling around in a blur of scarlet and emerald robes. Everyone screams at them to stop; some of the crowd cheers them on against each other; the teachers are trying to come down to the field but to no avail.
Maya fumbles for her wand, horror creeping into her lungs as she realizes that she's left it behind in her dorm. Her warlock magic isn't an option; with the way the both of them are moving, the spell could very well hit Harry instead and send him rocketing into the stands. No one is doing anything; there's too much happening for any of her classmates or teachers to intervene.
In a fit of temporary insanity, Maya lets go of Diana. She grabs Harry by the forearm, partially wedging herself in between them.
'Maya — no — ' Harry brushes her off as she tries to pull him away, 'Leave — you'll — get — hurt — '
'Stop!' Maya shrieks, trying her best to drag him away. Even though Harry is a few inches taller than her, he's surprisingly solid — and hard to move.
'Maya — no!!' screams Hermione, in terror. Maya's head snaps to her friend, but it's too late.
A blind force slams into her side, unimaginable shock coursing through her ribs and tendons. Maya wheezes, eyes wide — even chokes at the sudden pain. She's knocked to the ground in an instant, clutching her ribs, her legs giving out beneath her. Her vision is blurry from sudden tears, and Maya gasps at the aching pain in her abdomen, curling onto her side as her arms tighten around herself. She can't breathe, her diaphgram struggling to contract after the shock.
'How dare you?!' Maya hears Harry's fuzzy voice in her peripheral hearing 'How dare you hit her?!'
Malfoy's voice is stuttering, laced with shock. Maya feels his terrified eyes on her body for a split second, but can't summon the strength to open hers. It's as if her body has given up on her completely, able to do nothing but writhe there in agony.
'I-I wasn't looking — '
'Of course you were — ' snarls Harry, gripping him by the front of his robes, ' — she's not even half your size, you coward!!"
'I wasn't trying to hit her, you idiot — '
Maya feels Diana trying to help her up, and as soon as she touches her ribs, a sharp jolt goes through her entire body. She moans at the pain, weakly trying to push her friend away.
'Potter!! Malfoy!! What is the meaning of — ' McGonagall's voice rings sharply in her ears, then drops in shock as it reaches Maya, 'Dear Merlin, what happened to you, Ms. Rajesh?!'
Before Diana can answer the truth, an annoying, high-pitched voice fills Maya's ears.
'Care to explain to me what's going on here, boys?'
It's none other than the High Inquisitor herself.
don't kill me y'all.
Chapter 29: Chapter 29
Chapter Text
"DO YOU EVEN REALIZE HOW BADLY YOU 'VE FUCKED UP?!"
Draco does. He really does. He doesn't need Diana screaming at him to prove it. They stand in the Hospital wing, across from each other, the afternoon sunlight pouring in from the large bay windows surrounding the entrance. There's talking sounding out from inside the room; He can hear Umbridge and McGonagall arguing with each other from inside - it sounds like they're ready to stab the other person.
"Keep your voice down" he hisses, to which Diana's fury grows even more.
"Keep my voice down?! Keep my voice down?!" she screams, her shrill voice bouncing off of the walls and piercing Draco's ears, making him wince, "What is wrong with you?!"
"I-"
"You can never mind your own business, can you?!" Diana shrieks, not letting him speak, "Always trying to bring down everyone else to boost your own fucking ego!! What gave you the idea to make up that bloody song?! Did you think that reaming Ron out in front of everyone would prove that you've asserted dominance?! Well I hate to break it to you, but it made you look like a cheap, lowlife snake!!"
"Di-"
She completely loses it by now, looking like she's ready to explode, "You're an asshole, that's what you are!! What pleasure do you get out of hurting other people, huh?! And even with that, I was still able to tolerate you. But Maya?! Really?! You just had to hurt her even more?!"
Draco's jaw clenches at her words, "You don't know what you're talking about"
"Don't I?" Diana laughs bitterly, "Because it seems like I'm the only person who remotely gives a shit about her feelings. Do you even realize what she's had to go through this year?!"
"Diana - "
"Don't pretend like you've done nothing. What are you trying to prove to yourself?! That you don't care about her anymore?"
"Shut up" Draco growls, feeling himself reaching his boiling point.
Diana scoffs, "You told me you have feelings for her, but all you ever do is try to hurt her."
The words take seconds to sink in, Draco feels anger sink inside him; at himself or at Diana, he doesn't know.
"Do you " ― he scoffs, looking up at the ceiling ― "Do you seriously think I tried ― try ― to hurt her on purpose?! When the last thing I want to do is make things worse for her?? Do you think it isn't torture looking at her every day, knowing that I ruined her life because of him?? Knowing that there's nothing I can do to fix the damage??"
Diana's face falters, "Draco ―"
"I don't fucking deserve her. I'm very much aware of that. I don't even deserve to care about her ― " he gestures roughly in the direction of the hospital wing, " ― to have her constantly running through my head. I know I fucked up. Big-time. I never wanted for any of this to happen. We both know that. What I did was horrible, and cruel ― " he pauses, feeling his voice crack " ― and threw away any chance I had to prove myself. These feelings that I was undoubtedly blessed with ― " his voice snarls at the word, " ― they won't fucking go away, no matter what I do. They get worse every time I so much as look at her. And I can't tell her, can I? ― " Draco laughs bitterly, shaking his head, " ― Because I guarantee that she'll look at me like I'm some sort of monster. How do I fix things when I don't even know where to start?"
Diana is quiet for a split second; Draco's suddenly scared that he's terrified her into silence with his outburst of feelings. His heart races inside his chest, and Draco claps a hand over his mouth, breathing shakily as he wildly looks around, checking if anyone heard his words. The world around him feels like it's split open and swallowed him.
He's never admitted this to anyone. He didn't plan to. Ever.
Until now.
"If - " Diana starts, suddenly sounding unsure of herself, " If you really care about her . . . . . why don't you show her?"
Draco scoffs, raising his eyebrows, "Show her? She runs away whenever we're in the same room, "
Diana rolls her eyes, "You know what I'm talking about, " She sighs, "Look, I know things may seem . . . . . impossible . . . . now, but I guarantee that Maya is much more receptive than you think, even if she doesn't act like it. Show her that you care about her, about what she has to say, about her well-being. She may not get along with you, currently, but I doubt that she hates you. And learn to apologize, for Pete's sake. You really need to tell your pride to screw off. "
Draco swallows, closing his eyes and covering his face with his hands. He's acknowledged these feelings before; hell, it's what's been on his mind this entire year. He can't help the tug behind his heart whenever Maya manages to meet eyes with him, nor the electricity coursing through his veins whenever they accidentally manage to touch. There's always a painful twinge in his stomach whenever he sees that lifeless look on her face; like she's lost part of herself and doesn't know how to get it back.
An intrinsic part of him wants to see her smile again.
He swallows, suddenly, feeling quite unsure of himself. Having feelings for someone is one thing. But acting on them?
Draco looks at the open doors of the hospital wing, and the decision is clear in his mind.
The injury hurts less than she thought it would.
Madam Pomfrey looks livid as she applies the bruise paste to Maya's tender side, not even paying attention to the dark red lace of her bra exposed with her shirt pulled up. She mutters angry sentences under her breath, spewing words that Maya wouldn't dare use even in her angriest moment.
"That boy should be expelled!! " she mutters, between rubbing circles into Maya's skin, "Hitting another student, especially a girl!! What exactly does he think of himself?! Just because his father works for the Ministry, he can get away with anything he wants?! Kids these days, I swear . . . . "
"I could've fought back if Umbri ― the teachers hadn't showed up!" Maya retorts, feeling somewhat put down by the matron's words, "I am perfectly capable of kicking his prissy arse ―"
"Yeah, well, there won't be any of that happening today, " Madam Pomfrey declares, voice tight as she steps back. Maya quickly yanks her shirt back down, cheeks turning red as she quickly looks around to see if anyone saw.
"The paste needs an hour to heal properly" She glares at Maya, the look in her eyes knowing exactly what the younger girl is thinking "No fighting. As much as I admire your . . . . enthusiasm . . . . you need to rest, my dear"
Maya huffs, laying back down as she walks away. I can handle myself in a fight perfectly fine, Maya thinks, venomously, to herself. Although she somewhat lacks in size, Nandini forced her to take self-defense from a very young age. Considering the kind of lifestyle her mother led, it makes sense that the older woman would want Maya to be able to defend herself.
Maybe if she'd been a bit more clear about exactly what Maya was up against, this entire situation would've just been a bad dream.
Ten, maybe twenty minutes pass, and the silence in the hospital wing slowly starts to feel oppressive. Maya lies on her back, feeling suddenly antsy. Her hands ache to pick up and do something; anything, really, she's never liked being alone with her thoughts. Her phone lies on the far end of the side table, completely out of reach, and honestly, Maya doubts her injured side would appreciate her muscles being stretched that way.
Silence is boring, Maya thinks to herself. Even at home, the house has never been pitch-quiet, even at night. There's always something playing in the background, someone talking on the phone, Nandini busy filing away documents that Maya isn't allowed to touch. It can be quiet, but never completely silent. Even when she's alone, Maya finds it hard to stay still and quiet. She always has her headphones in while scribbling down her homework, being able to work faster with music playing in the background. Diana often chastisizes her about it, but Maya doubts she would appreciate the sound of Maya's not-so-innocent music blasting around their dorm.
Good thing her mother can't check her Spotify history, otherwise Maya would have turned out absolutely clueless in certain departments. Not that she has any experience now, but . . . . you know . . . . it's good to know certain things if the opportunity ever arises.
Will it ever arise?
The curtain around her bed is slowly pulled open; Maya jumps, almost sitting up before remembering what Madam Pomfrey told her. She reluctantly lies back down, but every bone in her body screams the opposite when she realizes who's standing at the foot of her bed.
He's still in his Quidditch uniform; Maya's stomach does a double take when Draco Malfoy pulls his gloves off with his teeth, that weird fluttery feeling coming back when he tosses them on the nearest table. His eyes are cautious, filled with guilt, an emotion that looks foreign on him, Maya realizes, backing up the tiniest bit.
Her brain can't seem to process the fact that he's in front of her. "Why ― " she stammers, not being able to find words for the confusing feelings springing up inside her head, " What ― What are you doing here, Malfoy?"
"I ― um ― ", he scratches the back of his neck, looking just as awkward as her, " I came to ― uh ― well, check ― um ― if you were, you know, okay ― "
"Oh I'm fine . . " Maya drawls, waving her hand dismissively, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Just confined to this hospital bed for the next hour. "
She feels the tiniest bit guilty when she sees his face redden even further, "And ― um ― I ― uh ― " he stumbles over his words, looking just as clueless as she feels, " I ― er ― I also came to ― well, apologize. "
There's a deafening silence as Maya tries to process what he just said. Malfoy's face is so red, he looks like he wants to fold in on himself and let the ground swallow him whole.
"Why ― " Her mouth is oddly dry when she finally manages words, " ― why ― are you apologizing to me?"
His incredulous expression makes her stop, " Are ― are you serious?" he scoffs.
"I've never seen you apologize to anyone, " she counters, to his disbelief.
"I don't hit girls, " His tone is defensive, expression slowly hardening, "I wasn't aiming for you ― " he clarifies this, seeing the disbelieving look on Maya's face, " ― I swear, I wasn't. Potter was trying to strangle me, I was trying to punch him; it's all a blur now. Then you just inserted yourself in the middle ― and, well ― " he gestures to her injured side, " ― you saw the rest yourself. But it really was an accident. I would never hit ― you ― " a pink tinge appears on his cheekbones at the word, " ― like that. Not after what I did last year. So, I'm sorry. For hitting you. It wasn't intentional, and I'm sorry ― " he coughs at this, looking paler, " ― I'm sorry for putting you in the hospital wing, "
Maya opens her mouth in shock, then closes it. Seconds fly by, neither of them knowing what to say to each other after what just happened.
" I ― well ― " she manages to say, after a while, still stuttering for some godforsaken reason, " that was ― um ― very . . . nice, "
Draco Malfoy's expression changes; it's clear that her very articulate response wasn't what he was expecting. He now looks somewhere between confused and bewildered.
"Very nice?" he echoes, making her face turn red with mortification.
Maya sighs, looking anywhere but him. She stares up at the ceiling, blushing madly with embarrassment, " You ― you know what I mean, Malfoy, "
The corner of his mouth turns up; He now looks amused at her reaction to his words, "Why don't you make it clear to me?"
Maya looks down at her lap, now certain that she looks like a tomato, "Shut up, "
He chuckles, Maya still refusing to look up at him. The sound sends a sudden light feeling down her spine; she resists the urge to snort herself. There's a new familiarity between them, something that Maya is unsure how to tread through. The moment breaks, though, when he opens his mouth again.
"I know . . . . . that I can be a bit of an arsehole, " he begins.
Maya raises her eyebrows, "A bit?"
He sighs, heavily, closing his eyes before opening them and looking up to the ceiling as if to gather strength from it, "Fine. A complete arsehole. Happy?"
She manages to smirk, "Very. Continue, please. "
Malfoy rolls his eyes, inhaling sharply; It is very clear that he's trying not to snap at her, "I've been a dick to you. I'm not even going to deny it."
"Finally!!" Maya proclaims, rolling her eyes, "You got it through your thick skull, "
He narrows his eyes at her, "Shut up. " he snaps, before continuing, "Anyway, I didn't realize how much of a dick I actually was until, well ― " He gestures to her lying in bed, " ― now. I'm sorry. " ― his voice softens ―, "What I did was wrong. I promise, I'll do better."
They look at each other for a long time; the aforementioned arrogance and cockiness seems to vanish from his expression. His expression is now . . . . softer, in a way. It's as if all of his sharp edges have fallen away, his expression now . . . . pensive. Open. Almost (if she dares to go there) . . . . vulnerable. He looks sincere in a way Maya can't help but bring herself to trust.
Maybe . . . . she's been wrong all this time. There are more layers to Draco Malfoy than meets the eye.
And Maya can't help but want to figure out what goes on behind his insolent mask.
So, in an effort to push herself out of her comfort zone, she utters two words.
"Thank you"
It wasn't the apology she was looking for, but it's a start.
To what? Maya doesn't know.
next chapter is my absolute fave. can't promise when it'll be out tho. n e ways i need sleep and sanity so gn y'all <3
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 30: Chapter 30
Chapter Text
'BANNED, NO SEEKER AND NO BEATERS . . . WHAT ON EARTH ARE WE GOING TO DO?'
Angelina says this in the common room, later that day. It doesn't feel as though they've won the match at all. Everywhere Maya looks there are disconsolate and angry faces; the team themselves are slumped around the fire, all apart from Ron, whose not been seen since the end of the match.
'Its just so unfair,' says Alicia numbly. 'I mean, what about Crabbe and that Bludger he hit after the whistle had been blown? Has she banned him?'
'No,' says Ginny miserably; she and Hermione sit on either side of Harry. 'He just got lines, I heard Montague laughing about it at dinner.'
'And banning Fred when he didn't even do anything!' says Alicia furiously, pummelling her knee with her fist
'It's not my fault I didn't,' says Fred, with a very ugly look on his face, 'I would've pounded the little scumbag to a pulp if you three hadn't been holding me back.'
Snow falls outside the window. The Snitch Harry had caught earlier is now zooming around and around the common room; people watch its progress as though hypnotised. Church leaps from chair to chair, trying to catch it with his tiny paws, but failing miserably as the onlookers chuckle.
'I'm going to bed,' says Angelina, getting slowly to her feet. 'Maybe this will all turn out to have been a bad dream . . . maybe I'll wake up tomorrow and find we haven't played yet . . .'
She's soon followed by Alicia and Katie. Fred and George slope off to bed some time later, glowering at everyone they pass, and Ginny goes not long after that. Only Harry, Hermione and Maya are left beside the fire, Diana doing homework upstairs in their dorm.
'Have you seen Ron?' Hermione asks, in a low voice. Harry shakes his head.
'I think he's avoiding us,' says Hermione. 'Where do you think he — ?'
But at that precise moment, there's a creaking sound behind them, as the Fat Lady swings forward and Ron comes clambering through the portrait hole. He's very pale indeed and there's snow in his hair. When he sees the three of them, he stops dead in his tracks.
'Where have you been?' says Hermione anxiously, springing up.
'Walking,' Ron mumbles. He's still wearing his Quidditch things.
'You look like an ice cream bar,' says Maya.
Ron walks to the fireside and sinks into the chair furthest from Harry's, not looking at him. The stolen Snitch zooms over their heads.
'I'm sorry, " Ron mumbles, looking at his feet.
'What for?' says Harry.
'For thinking I can play Quidditch,' says Ron. 'I'm going to resign first thing tomorrow.'
'If you resign,' says Harry testily, 'there'll only be three players left on the team. I've been given a lifetime ban. So've Fred and George.'
'What?' Ron yelps.
Hermione tells him the full story. When she finishes, Ron looks more anguished than ever.
'This is all my fault — '
'You didn't make me punch Malfoy,' says Harry angrily.
Maya's stomach twists uncomfortably at the mention of his name. Mere hours ago, he seemed like an entirely different person. Apologizing to her, a stuttering, nervous mess who turned red every two seconds. That Draco Malfoy seems miles away
' — if I wasn't so terrible at Quidditch — '
' — it's got nothing to do with that.'
' — it was that song that wound me up — '
' — it would've wound anyone up.'
Hermione gets up and walks to the window, away from the argument, watching the snow swirling down against the pane.
'Look, drop it, will you!' Harry bursts out. 'It's bad enough, without you blaming yourself for everything!'
Ron says nothing, but sits gazing miserably at the damp hem of his robes. After a while, he says in a dull voice, 'This is the worst I've ever felt in my life.'
'Join the club,' says Harry bitterly. Maya mentally agrees with him.
Before Maya knows it, the first week of December has rushed past, and she wakes up on Friday the seventh a year older. The world is white outside on the morning of her fifteenth birthday.
It reminds her of one particular birthday in New York, when she turned ten. Snow had completely blocked their old street, and no matter how many neighbors tried to shovel it away, it just kept piling up. Nandini had let her stay home from school and invited her friends over. It had been before they'd moved into the Institute, living only three blocks away. They'd run over to her house almost immediately, Maryse having relented and giving them the day off as well. The day had been the most fun she'd had at the time; binge-watching disney movies, ordering pizza, drinking hot chocolate to combat the cold, playing hide and seek in the cramped apartment. Nandini had surprised them at the very end with a delicious mint cake topped with chocolate ice cream, the customary candles switched out for fancy sparklers that spewed gold in the warm light of the evening. She still has those pictures with her, backed up and saved in a distant album on her laptop.
If only things were that peaceful now.
Nevertheless, Maya manages to pick out a somewhat nice outfit today, considering it's the one day she's allowed to attend without uniform. Her maroon Gryffindor sweater is thrown on first, followed by a pair of blue skinny jeans that are immediately cuffed at the ankles, and lastly, small golden hoops and her trusty white converse.
Looking at herself in the mirror feels strange. Her features have slimmed down, cheekbones hollowed in a way that although, looks good on her, Maya is unnerved by. She doesn't look older . . . . but there's a certain sharpness to her face that there wasn't before. Her eye color seems to have turned darker, or maybe that's just an illusion created by the shadows underneath, starting to get more prominent day by day. Her hair is half-done, a simple detangling charm leaving it loose to hand over her shoulders. It's at an awkward length now; too long to leave down, but too short to tie up. She settles for tucking it behind her ears, and adds eyeliner to top off the look.
This drawn-out morning routine, however, makes her late for breakfast, and Maya only has time to grab quarter of a waffle and wolf it down on her way to class. Thankfully, she only has three classes today, all before noon. Her schedule is . . . . . interesting . . . . to say the least. Given that this is O.W.L year, timings are all over the place. Some days she has a full course load, some days only four classes, some which start at 9 instead of 8, and some with no afternoon lessons. It's a tricky situation, but she's somehow managed to make it work for her, using the extra time to do her homework and prepare whatever she can for her exams, which seem to near every time she blinks.
The day passes by in a blur; Maya has to pour herself another cup of coffee during lunch just to stay awake long enough to be able to go through her homework. As usual, the trio and Diana wish her, and she gets back to her dorm to find a few letters and parcels waiting for her on the bed.
Her presents this year are actually quite good; there's a bottle of perfume by Magnus, Miss Dior, carefully wrapped in pink tissue paper. Jace has just added on his name to Alec's present, as usual, the first installment in the Shadow and Bone series having a small note from him on the first page, Jace's name scrawled right beneath his messy signature. Hermione, Harry, and Ron have gotten her some supplies from Flourish and Botts; Nandini, a stunning dark blue kurti with silver embroidery all around the sleeves and hem. Tessa gifts her a few beauty supplies from Bath and Body works that she's running out of; namely her favorite Green Apple body wash that Maya immediately stows in her bath supply box.
But the best — and most surprising of all — comes from Izzy. A tall, ankle-strapped pair of black heels. With signature red soles that scream of the elite and upper class, it's hard not to tell where they came from, the name 'Christian Louboutin' embalzoned in silver on the black box.
For my favorite fiery warlock. The red suits you. Think of me when you wear them.
- xx, Izzy
"These — " Maya chokes, as she googles the price on her phone, " — these are six hundred and fifty dollars!!. "
"She must really like you, Maya" whispers Hermione, a mixture of shock and awe on her face as she stares at the box, "But bloody hell, who'd pay that much for a pair of heels?"
"You'd be surprised how many purebloods wear muggle name brands, " Diana calls, from the other end of the room, "They're expensive, but Christian Louboutin is all the rage right now in Paris, "
"I wonder if I'd be able to use them as daggers?" mutters Maya, inspecting the razor-sharp heels attached to the shoe, "They are awfully sharp . . . . ."
"Maya . . . they're worth your life savings, " says Hermione, cautiously, eyeing the shoes with mild shock, "Maybe even more . . . . "
"Still . . . " Maya mutters, ruefully, closing the box and putting them back in, "You never know who I could run into. What if a demon attacks me when I'm out at dinner with these?"
"I doubt impaling it with a pair of expensive heels would do anything, " Diana remarks dryly, painting her nails a glittering silver, "But if they were imbued with angel blood . . . . "
"Like my knives?" Maya questions, biting her lip, deep in thought, "Yeah, I guess that would work . . . "
The talk soon fizzles out, and Maya collapses into her bed for a long nap as the sun outside sets. Her body happily sinks into the mattress, tired beyond the realm of human limits. Sleeping away the afternoon is a somewhat pathetic way to spend her birthday; Diana groans this out, mumbling that she has the habits of a fifty-year-old as Maya drifts off to dreamland, peace surrounding her mind for the first time in a while.
Her dreams are odd; not as disturbing as they usually are. She constantly seems to be switching between scenarios, her subconscious can’t seem to decide on what it wants to tell her.
Rain is pouring on the darkened streets of Mumbai, lit by old-fashioned gas lamps that flicker and sputter as people pass by. She’s standing on the sidewalk, shivering in her soaked, freezing cold uniform, no umbrella to protect her from the torrential elements. The smell of cigarette smoke permeates the air . . . . everyone around her is dressed in black trench coats and fedoras, their cat-like eyes lingering on her with her every move. She exhales, slowly, her breath turning into smoke in front of her. It’s so cold . . . so bloody cold and dark on this night. Maya feels the ghost of a touch on her shoulder, but she has no time to dwell on it. Her vision turns black, and the scene around her bleeds away into nothingness.
In the next, she’s on the dance floor of the Yule Ball once more. Everyone’s wearing masks; Maya lifts one hand up to touch her face, hers seems to be made out of delicately carved gold. She’s out of the pajamas; Maya looks down at her silken gown, the exact color of blood, hugging her chest and waist as it flares down to the floor. She can’t identify who she’s dancing with, only knowing from the broad shoulders and build that it’s a male. The music swells and she’s spun around into the boy, her back against his chest. This feels awfully familiar, Maya realizes, with bated breath, the exact same position she’d been in with a certain someone almost a year ago. She breathes in sharply; the scent of peppermint, apples and something woodsy surrounds her like mist. Maya feels an inkling of familiarity stirring in her abdomen, but she has no time to decipher it as her name is called from the stage. Maya whirls around, the music suddenly changing to a frightening, eerie piece . . . her veins turn to ice as she catches sight of Belial in place of Dumbledore on stage, grinning eerily at her as he speaks into the mic.
“There she is, “ He says, almost affectionately; Maya freezes, her hands trembling with fear, “There’s my pretty girl.”
Maya bolts, an ear-piercing shriek radiating throughout the room as she runs out the door; she realizes, with horror, that the sound came from herself. Everything is a blur; Maya doesn’t know how she manages to escape from the hellish relivement of what had previously been one of the best nights in her life. She trips, dress tearing, skidding into a tree root. Her mask falls off, shattering into miniscule pieces that fall over her like golden glitter.
This is where the third (and most confusing) scenario begins; Maya opens her eyes to find herself lying in a sunlit meadow, pieces of the mask still inlaid in her dress. She sits up; hair wild and windblown from her previous activities, dress torn at the hem. It’s oddly peaceful out here; the grass ruffles from the slight breeze blowing through the area. It looks incredibly picturesque, a scene straight from one of those tacky postcards available at every gift store in the US. But something feels slightly different this time; Maya's fingertips reach out and freeze as they catch onto the telltale material of an expensive suit.
Draco Malfoy turns to face her, lying on his side. Maya's eyes turn to the size of saucers as he grins, almost lazily. There's a soft look in his silver eyes as he gazes at her almost lovingly, the corner of his mouth turned up in an entirely flattering manner. His mask glitters on the grass, discarded completely; specks of silver glitter still linger on his pale skin. She's frozen, unable to do anything . . . . but oddly, she doesn't want to. There's no paralyzing fear taking over her body as he reaches out to run his thumb along her cheekbone; his touch leaves electric trails across her skin. Maya unconsciously leans into his touch, ignoring the alarm bells ringing in her head. In that moment, it's like part of him has fallen away. He looks ethereal, like afternoon sunlight glittering on a crystalline lake.
It's like she's seeing him for the first time, again, and Maya doesn't know how to react. Her heart thuds in her chest as he leans closer, cupping her jaw. Maya gasps as their lips brush together, sending electric sparks shooting up her spine.
This entire situation feels overwhelming. This is wrong. This is dangerous. She shouldn't want this. Maya shouldn't want to be anywhere close to him, right at his arm's reach, where he can lash out at her easily. She shouldn't like the feeling of his hand slowly snaking up into her hair, tangling into the soft locks and gently pulling her flush against him.
But despite everything . . . . she does.
Just as she leans closer, he whispers two words against her lips.
"Wake up"
Maya stays curled up tight in her bed as soon as her eyes open.
Her mind is still frozen with shock. Reeling. Her cheeks haven't stopped burning ever since she woke up. She wants to sink into the ground and die of embarrassment.
Is this . . . . . is this how she really feels, deep down?! Fuck, those pictures won't leave her mind; him lying next to her, making shivers go down her spine. Moving her hair out of her face, his thumb brushing her jaw . . . . bloody fuck, Malfoy looked at her like she was the center of his universe.
And why did her demon-sperm-donor (or whatever she's supposed to call him at this point) suddenly make an appearance? Did he (as her dear Jace would say) 'ship' them?
What the actual-
"Why do you look like you're shitting yourself?" questions Diana, amused. She's dressed up, Maya notices, in a short, halter-neck black dress that flows down to about the middle of her thighs, with pretty golden heels to match.
"I think I'm going mad, " Maya whispers, shocked, now certain that she looks like a mortified tomato, "You won't believe the dream I just had"
"All the best people are crazy, Maya, " Diana sighs, dramatically, adjusting her shimmery lip gloss before crossing the room and yanking the blankets off of Maya in one smooth motion, "Get up, loser. We're going dancing, "
"What?!" Maya shrieks, trying to pull the covers back over herself, "Fuck no! I'm staying in bed, "
"Absolutely not, " Diana literally drags Maya by the arm, the latter desperately trying to get back under the covers, "You, young lady - "
"You're younger than me!!" Maya protests, bewildered, as Diana drags her around their dorm room, picking up things and rifling through drawers, apparently searching for something.
"Not important. You spend wayyy too much time in this room, shutting yourself away from the world. And don't get me wrong, " she adds, seeing Maya's annoyed scowl, "I understand that you need space from people; hell, I know all too well about your introverted tendencies. But there's a difference between needing time alone and being straight-up antisocial. So- " she grabs a towel, apparently satisfied in her pursuit to wreck their room, "I'm staging an intervention. Some of the Slytherin girls are throwing a party tonight, in the room of requirement. I convinced Daphne to get us both an invite. I know you think they're elitist idiots, " she quips, looking at Maya's arms defensively crossed over her chest, "But it won't matter when everyone's buzzed. They won't even notice you with all the alcohol and God-knows-what-else in their system, "
"I don't have a choice in this, do I?" Dread grows in Maya's stomach, but there's also a tinge of excitement running through her veins. She's never been allowed near alcohol before, forbidden to go to the down world parties that Isabelle brought back wild stories from. Her life was spent at home or at the Institute, losing herself in fictional worlds and sometimes writing them herself.
Diana smiles sweetly, "Of course not, darling, "
She pushes open the bathroom door, not-so-gently depositing Maya inside and shoving the towel in her arms.
"What are you doing?" questions Maya, confused.
"Shower, " Diana rolls her eyes dramatically, "I'll see if I have something that fits you. You have fifteen minutes before I knock on the door to check if you've escaped, "
Maya glares at Diana as the door closes on it's own, groaning as she buries her face in her hands.
Time to drag herself to her first high-school party.
"Bloody hell. Oh, bloody hell . . . . "
"Oh come on, it's not even that bad" Diana rolls her eyes as they walk up to the entrance, fully dressed in their party clothes. Maya swears, pulling down the short hem of her golden dress. It's tight, with spaghetti straps, plunging a bit at the neckline and following curves she didn't even know existed before. Her short, curled hair bounces over her shoulders and hoop earrings sparkle at her ears. The designer heels are strapped tightly to her feet, and Maya wobbles slightly as she takes a step over the rough cobblestones, sucking in a sharp breath. "Besides, it's quite tame compared to what everyone else will be wearing, "
"You're just saying that to cajole me, " Maya grumbles, looking at Diana's much more conservative dress, "Why do you get the black and I have to wear this?"
"Because I'm the only one that can make this dress look amazing, " replies Diana, flipping her blonde curls over one slender, pale shoulder. She looks incredible, Maya can't even deny it. Tall and slim, the flowing hem of her dress showing off her long, slender legs, Diana looks every inch the goddess she was meant to be. She just needed a little time to find herself.
The door swings open just as Diana raises her hand to knock, pounding music echoing down the hallway. Daphne Greengrass peers out, a sleeve of her billowy, silver dress fluttering in the breeze. Her eyes twinkle as they land on Diana, corner of her mouth turning up, but fill with an unidentified emotion as soon as they catch sight of Maya.
"About time you showed up, " she remarks, ruefully, "Make yourselves at home. There's Grey Goose at the drinks table - muggle vodka, " she explains, seeing Diana's slightly confused expression.
Metallic balloons float up to the high ceiling of the room of requirement as they enter, music vibrating off the stone walls; Maya recognizes the tune; she realizes, with surprise, that it's a Maroon 5 song, one that she hears on the radio all the time. The party is in full swing; people are dancing with each other, laughing, playing drinking games. Maya can see a table of alcohol and snacks in the corner. It doesn't feel as lawless as she imagined, more thrilling. One of the balloons accidentally pops above Diana's head, silver glitter immediately showering down on both of them. Maya jumps at the sound, but soon starts giggling at Diana's shell-shocked expression.
"I . . . " Diana starts, her brain cells clearly rocked by the sudden incident, "I . . . need a fucking drink, "
"A drink?" Maya stutters, stopping in her tracks. She's no stranger to being around liquor; Magnus always has exotic alcohols locked away in his cellar and it's not uncommon for Nandini to have a glass or two of wine with dinner. But she's never drank anything herself, forbidden to enter the countless underground downworld parties that her friends snuck out to after hours.
The exact same type of party that she's at right now.
"What did you think you were going to sip on, apple juice?" Diana giggles at Maya's dumbfounded expression as she tugs her towards the table in the back, pushing through countless sweaty bodies and writhing students. Their stares seem to stick to her as she tries to slide in between the dancing students; they always do, Maya notices, becoming aware of the short hem of her dress riding up her thighs. She quickly pulls it down, fear crossing through her mind at the thought of the entire school taking a peek at her knickers.
Skeeter doesn't need more material for an expose.
Could she even be lurking inside the school? Maya wonders, absentmindedly, as the sound of liquid being poured into a cup rings in her peripheral hearing. She couldn't have transfigured herself into a bug again . . . . not after the threats that Hermione made. But the way everyone stares at her is the exact same way they looked at her after last year's Daily prophet disaster. Judging, harsh, as if they're trying to peel away her skin to see what lies beneath. Whether she's really an ordinary teenage girl, or a wolf wrapped in sheep's clothing.
She really should be used to it by now, but somehow, Maya can never seem to shake the sense of guilt that's always lurking in the back of her head; afraid that no matter what she does to prove herself as worthy of respect, everyone else will continue to see her as an alien. Someone who takes up too much space. Someone who was never supposed to be there in the first place.
"Hello?! Earth to Maya?!"
Maya snaps back down to the party. She can barely hear Diana over the pumping bass, registering a cup of something being passed into her hand. Maya brings the liquid to her nose and sniffs it; it seems innocent enough. The scent of tea, lemon and orange hits her nostrils, along with a vague bitterness she recognizes from somewhere.
She feels someone looking at her; Maya lifts her head and accidentally makes eye contact with a boy, deep in the crowd. He's quite tall, she realizes; she'd barely reach his chest if she was standing in front of him. With shaggy brown hair, chiseled features, and sharp blue eyes that seem to glimmer even in the darkness of the room, a part of her vaguely recognizes him as Theodore Nott. He's from Slytherin, that's something she knows for sure. She's seen Diana talking to him a few times, a flirtatious smile on his face as he eyes her not-so-subtly. It's the same way he's looking at her right now. He's quite attractive, that she will admit, having that kind of rugged handsomeness displayed on the cover of the trashy romance novels that she used to read after Nandini went to bed.
His stare brings color to Maya's cheeks, though she's not sure whether she's flattered on unnerved by the sudden attention. Maya just stands there, awkwardly, having no clue how to react. She lifts her hand up, an awkward smile on her face, attempting a friendly wave in order not to look like an idiot. However, he's already turned away, and Maya sighs, internally facepalming as she looks at the ground.
Jace always teased her about being "allergic to boys". Maybe he wasn't too far off from the truth . . . .
"What is my brother doing here?!"
"Huh?!" Maya splits out of her reverie once again, the blood draining out of her face as she stares at Diana in shock.
"He said he wasn't coming . . . . . " Diana looks shocked, incredulity creeping onto her face, "I can't believe Blaise dragged him here, "
Her brain screams at her to avoid the situation, but again, Maya ignores it. Her subconscious forces her to look up once more, eyes landing on the anxiety-inducing sight that is Draco Malfoy walking through the door.
Why is she doing this to herself? Maya thinks, as her eyes glue themselves to him. An inexplicable redness blooms onto her cheeks the very second he walks in, and Maya freezes. Why does her head constantly run after him, even though she knows he's bad for her? Maya thinks, jumping to a thousand conclusions at once. Why can't she function like a normal person anytime they're in the same room? Is it because of what happened . . . . . the light she sees him in now? Is it fear . . . . is she scared of him?
Maya snorts out loud at the idea, earning a strange look from Diana. Draco Malfoy may be an entitled, obnoxious, bully, but he's nowhere near scary to her. He looks far from it, now . . . . she thinks, unconsciously catching her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes linger on the undone buttons of his white shirt, exposing a hint of the pale expanse of his chest, cheeks burning as she recalls the time that he pulled up his shirt to wipe his face during the last quidditch match. His hair isn't gelled back; it hasn't been for a while, Maya notices. Instead, it looks messy, as if he's just gotten out of bed, which is unheard of for the Draco Malfoy she's seen so far. It's not a bad look on him, Maya notes, begrudgingly so. In fact . . . . . . it makes him look kind of . . . . . . . . by the Angel, is she really admitting this to herself?! . . . . .hot.
She wants to die when he suddenly makes eye contact.
Maya freezes in place, rooted to the spot. She's certain that she looks like a sunburned tomato. They're staring at each other straight in the eye, and it somehow feels like her bubble has come crashing down around her. Maya is so, so embarrassed. He just caught her gawking at him like some sort of deranged bird.
Has all common sense just vanished from her brain today?!
To regain her sense of control and assert dominance (to herself or Malfoy, she doesn't know), Maya does what any normal person would do.
She turns to the side, breaks eye contact, and chugs her entire drink in one go.
Maya can hear Diana's gasp of horror in the background; she chokes halfway through but forces herself to swallow the whole thing. It would probably taste pleasant if she drank it slower; Maya notices; but the mango and orange hits her full in the face, an unfamiliar tingle also making it's way down her throat. She coughs, wiping her mouth as she lifts the cup from her space, tossing the empty container into a nearby trash bin.
"Did-" Diana sputters, dumbfounded, "Did - did you just chug that entire thing?"
"Yep" Maya clears her throat, a light feeling slowly filling her veins. She giggles, slightly, stepping backward to avoid a spray of glitter, "What was it?"
"Maya . . . . . you just had an entire glass of Long Island iced tea, "
"So?" Her voice sounds confused in her own ears.
"It's 22% alcohol, "
The smile drops slightly from her face, "Oh."
"It's fine - it's fine!!" Diana sounds like she's trying to convince herself more than Maya is, "You're a warlock . . . . you probably have a high alcohol tolerance anyway-"
"Diana I don't think that's how it works-"
"Nope!!" The Hufflepuff's tone is full of panic at this point, "You're going to be perfectly fine. In fact, why don't we join the crowd? Let's dance, come on!!"
And just like that, Maya is pulled into the mass of writhing bodies by her best friend, all of her worries leaving her mind as the alcohol takes over her brain.
She is definitely not fine.
No, Maya, is great. Awesome, in fact. She squeals in euphoria as Diana spins her around, happiness exploding within her veins. The scene around her suddenly seems fun and exciting; the vibrant lights fall on the crowd like dancing watercolours. It feels like the music is running down her spine, the bass sending shivers down her arms as she sways her hips to the beat.
There's sudden confidence in her blood; Maya feels more attractive than ever before. She smirks at the eyes clinging to her as she runs her hands down her body, a slow, sultry beat starting to play through the speakers. Her short hair flips over her shoulder, embalzoned by the glitter clinging to the dark strands.
Diana raises an eyebrow at her, "What are you trying to do, my lady?"
"Didn't you see?" Maya giggles, throwing her head back, "I'm sexy dancing, "
"That's sexy?"
"Some people find it attractive, " Maya cocks her head in the direction of Theo Nott. He's staring yet again, a flirtatious smirk on his face as he sips Firewhiskey from a clear plastic cup. Feeling bold, she winks in his direction, blowing a kiss at him in response. She's rewarded with an audible chuckle, and the jealous glares of a few Slytherin girls surrounding him.
"He finds anything with legs attractive, " Diana grumbles this out, tone sour, earning a cocky eye roll from Maya, as she traces her hips once more, swiveling them suggestively as she turns around to face her friend.
"You're just jealous of my undeniable hotness, " Maya sighs dramatically, throwing her arms around Diana's shoulders to pull her closer, "I'm very beautiful, you know, "
"I'm still amazed that you're able to form coherent sentences when you're this plastered, " remarks Diana, an amused look on her face.
"I'm not drunk, " Maya scowls, "I'm perrrfectly fine, see?" She dips herself back, almost tripping over a stray beer can in her heels, "Whoa, that was a doozy!, " She giggles, suddenly scrunching her nose, "Doozy, that's a weird word . . . "
"Feeling a bit off-color?" Diana remarks, biting her lip to hold in her laughter.
"Never better, comrade!" Maya sighs, puffing up her chest in an imitation of a dictator, "The world is beautiful . . . . . and it is ours for the taking! Chaaarge!" She bellows, pointing at the disco ball above their heads, earning a few bewildered looks from people around them, "Wow, I should really lead an army someday . . . . . "
"Was - " Diana snickers, putting her hand over her mouth to try and calm herself, "Was there crack mixed into the vodka you had?"
"Nope!" Maya nods her head like a baby trying to nod off, "Just my sparkling social skills making an appearance . . . "
She's suddenly knocked forward by someone pushing past them. Maya shrieks as she lurches forward, cup flying out of her hands and clattering on the ground. Her face would be kissing the ground had Diana not caught her just in time, arms wrapping tight around her waist to secure her.
"Dumbass!!" yells Diana, after the said person, as Maya groans, annoyed. She tucks herself into Diana's body, head resting in the crook between her shoulder and neck, arms wrapped around her, basically using the poor Hufflepuff as a pillow. Her head is suddenly spinning, limbs feeling slowed and heavy, like they're filled with lead, and her legs are starting to feel weak, as though they can no longer support themselves.
"Sleepy . . . . " Maya mutters, all previous tones of euphoria gone from her tone.
"Had too much to drink?" Diana questions, awkwardly patting her on the back. The room is suddenly thick with tension, the atmosphere feeling humid and noxious. Maya coughs, repeatedly, using her hand to cover her mouth.
"I think-" She coughs again, feeling faint, "I think I need some air . . . . "
"You sure?" Diana raises a concerned eyebrow as she eyes Maya's shaking legs, "You can barely walk . . . . "
"Oh, pshh . . . " Maya waves her hand in dismissal, stumbling backwards as she detaches from Diana, "I'll be fine on my own. Don't you worry about me, sweetie pie, "
She's gone before Diana can say another word of protest.
Draco freezes as he hears the telltale sounds of heels dragging against concrete.
He didn't even want to come to this stupid party. Draco would have been fine staying in his dorm, whiling away the night attempting next week's homework. Blaise, however, wasn't having it, and dragged him out here, claiming that he was practically a hermit and needed to get laid instead of curling up in his lair.
He tried (and Draco really tried) to run as soon as he saw Pansy. They're not even together; in fact, Draco didn't even ask her out or make his feelings known before she claimed him as her "boyfriend". It's not like he's been a complete doormat; Draco has tried to voice his concerns about them clearly not being on the same page, but she wasn't having it. And yeah, it was kind of nice to have someone to snog (and sometimes have sex with) every once in a while, being able to curl up somewhere nice and make small talk, but that feeling died a long time ago.
How does he break it to her that he never had feelings for her in the first place without making her go ballistic?
Anyways, there's a creeping sense of dread spreading down his back as soon as he hears that specific sound. Each step of the heels makes him freeze, panic, brace himself for the onslaught of complaints that are inevitably going to spew from Pansy's lips. But his stomach flips over when he realizes who exactly the voice belongs to -- the very girl that he's not supposed to be thinking about in his situation.
"You confuse me, "
"What?!" Draco turns around, to find none other than Maya Rajesh staring back at him. He gulps, suddenly feeling hot all over. She looks -- incredible isn't enough to describe it. Her dress fits her well; although she's much more slender than Pansy, her shape is undeniable, with curves and dips in all the right places. There's glitter lying on her cheekbones and mascara smudged around her eyes, and in that moment, Maya Rajesh looks beautiful to him. Dishevelled in the moonlight, but beautiful nonetheless.
She stares at him, arms crossed defensively over her chest, an intoxicated flush on her cheekbones as she leans against the walls, "You. You're confusing, "
He's perplexed, "Why am I confusing?"
She scoffs, "How aren't you confusing?! You have the nerve to act like you run the school, running around with your pack of privileged friends. You're a fucking pureblood, one of the worst I've ever encountered, bigoted against those you consider to be lower than you. You give hell to Harry and Hermione; that's not even including how you got Ron and Harry a lifetime quidditch ban. You're quite arrogant and conceited, really, a bit pompous, if I must say. You scare first years for fun, you throw around the word "crucio" like it's your last day on earth, you parade that prefect badge as if it's your birthright. Hell, I don't even know how I tolerate you to be honest, "
Draco tries to open his mouth in protest, but Maya Rajesh beats him to it.
"And yet . . . . " she laughs, bitterly, "At the same time, you also manage to be a decent person. You go out of your way to protect Diana; not even being mad that she's not in the "good" house like you. You never treat me like I'm beneath you. In fact, I have no clue why you're nice to me. You care about my life, my well-being. You asked if I was okay before apologizing for hitting me -- even though it was an accident. You ask all these questions about me, as if you actually want to know what made me the way I am. You're smart; you get good grades and you work for them. And there's also the fact that you're really fucking gorgeous to look at, " she aggressively gestures to his face, Draco stands there frozen in shock, "which makes me feel some type of way and I don't even know how to unravel that. Sometimes I feel like we could have even been friends, in a different universe. But that could never happen here -- you and I both know that. You're an asshole . . . . but also not an asshole. I've always been taught to see things in black and white; right and wrong, good and evil. But you don't fit into either of those boxes completely and that's what's always going to scare me about you, "
"What?" Draco's voice is barely above a whisper when he finally manages to open his mouth.
"I'm never going to know what I'll get, " Her voice is hushed too; She stares up at him as if he's going to drink her in, "I can't predict what you'll do next and that's what fascinates me and kills me at the same time. I know I should stay away for my own good . . . . but I can't, "
There's a shocked silence for a few minutes; Draco has no clue how to wrap his head around what she's just said. There's so much brewing inside him at the moment; hope, resentment, fear . . . . . he can't discern which is which and it frightens him.
He can't afford to lose control. Not like this, not with her.
"I - wow, " He stammers out, "That - that was a lot, "
"I am a lot, " Maya says the words bluntly. Her eyes are significantly glazed over, he notices; Draco has no way of telling whether her words are true or not because of how drunk she is, "I dreamt about you, today, you know?"
Draco raises his eyebrows as she continues.
"It was really peaceful, " she rambles on, unaware of how speechless she is, "We were lying in this sunlit field together, all Romeo-and-Juliet like. I'd just run away from a masked ball. I didn't even realize you were there until I turned around, "
She steps closer to him and cups the side of his face; Draco revels in the feeling of her warm skin against his.
"You looked at me like I was your entire world, " she whispers the words so close to him that Draco can feel the ghost of them on his lips, "You tried to kiss me, "
Draco chokes on air, "I - what?! Why?!"
"I don't know" she shrugs, looking innocent -- well, as innocent as Maya Rajesh could possibly look, to be honest. She runs her thumb over his cheekbone, a smirk playing on her lips, "Do you want to kiss me, Malfoy?" she purrs, in a way that makes his knees weak.
"You're drunk, " Draco scoffs, though it comes out hollow because his remaining strength is being used trying not to do exactly what was in her dream, "How much have you had?"
She scoffs, mood suddenly turning sour as their line of physical contact is broken, "What are you now, Umbridge? Can't a girl knock a few drinks back on her birthday?"
Draco tries to collect his expression to that of surprise, "It's your birthday?"
"As of today, I am officially fifteen years old!" she stumbles back, almost tripping in the process; Draco catches her by the waist just in time, "Whoa-" she giggles, cheeks turning pink, "What a time to be alive, huh? Dizzy . . . . " She suddenly buries her head in his shoulder, cheek pressed to his chest in a way that makes his heart race.
"I bet you are, " Draco mutters, tone filled with amusement. Maya seems to lose her remaining consciousness, eyes fluttering shut as her arms snake around his neck. He shakes her, but nothing happens. She just grumbles and leans further into him.
Draco groans. What's he supposed to do with her now?
Slowly, a plan formulates in his head. He maps a path to the seventh floor in his head, slowly scooping up her body in a fireman's lift over his shoulder. He's lucky she's light as a feather, otherwise Draco's arms would have given up on the first try. He waits for her to stir, to move, but nothing happens.
Draco doesn't even recall how he managed to get to the Room of Requirement unnoticed; he avoids almost all of the corridors on his patrol schedule for today. It feels like an eternity before he finally enters, welcomed with a fluffy, four poster-bed decorated with emerald and silver hangings.
You can take the crest away from the Slytherin, but you can't take Slytherin away from the crest.
He gently lays her down on the bed so she doesn't wake up, turning off the lights with a wave of his wand. Maya groans, fidgeting and stirring in her sleep, but it's all settled when Draco tucks her under the duvet, her expression immediately falling to one of peace. He steps back, slowly. The moonlight from the window reflects back onto her face, glitter still shimmering on her lashes from the party. She looks . . . different like this. Harmless, as if she wouldn't hurt a fly. He pushes back a strand of hair from her face that's fallen into her eyes. Her brows relax.
In fact, some would go as far as to say that she looks quite sweet.
Under other circumstances, Draco would probably stay, to make sure that she'd be safe sleeping here for the night. But something tells him that would be crossing a line, undoubtedly screwing up whatever's between them.
Besides, he's going to let Diana know where she is anyway.
So, with a heavy heart, Draco casts one final look at his sleeping classmate, casts a ward on the room, and takes his leave.
Little does he know what his small action will change.
AAAAHHHH omg i finally updated. this chapter was just purely self-indulgent because draya fluff is superior. n e ways, it's almost midnight here. i'm exhausted and have hw tomorrow. stay safe and stay home!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 31: Chapter 31
Chapter Text
𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓
Diana Malfoy has a tendency to live inside her own head.
There's never really been anywhere else to go, if she's being honest. Her childhood was one of many obligations -- until she went off to Beauxbatons, Diana endured 8-hour schooldays from private tutoring at home, often staying up way past the hours of the decency to get her homework done. She was never allowed to go out and play with her friends like her brother, or rather, she's never had many friends in the first place. People were nice to her on the basis that she was Draco's sister, but that was about it. There's was no one who genuinely liked her as a person; she once overheard Pansy call her "annoyingly cheerful" and "childish". They seldom went on vacations, and if they did, it was mostly for Lucius's business trips. Draco would undoubtedly find an excuse to escape for the day, considering that their father only came back to the hotel at night, and Diana would be forced to accompany her mother on various shopping trips, seething internally while Narcissa oohed and aahed at various couture gowns.
In short, her life has been one long, boring drag, and she's never expected for it to change.
Diana's never been the type to fixate on one single person. She's barely ever had a crush on anyone until now (unless you count that weird-ass moment with Maya's annoying guy friend - wasn't his name Jason or something??). It's not like she's rejected the idea of romance completely in the pretense of pursuing her education. Her grades are fine, satisfactory enough to get her a decent job after graduation, but she doesn't really have a passion for school in that sense. There's always been a part of her that's kept Diana from venturing out into the ever-changing world of adolescent romance. She's been fine with it for as long as she can remember.
But now something has changed, and she doesn't know what it is.
What fourteen-year-old Diana Malfoy does know is that she’s getting awfully close to a certain odd Ravenclaw, much more soon than originally intended. It started as a simple evening in the library; Diana couldn’t map out her star chart and Maya was too busy finishing Potions equations to help her. She had wandered around the shelves for hours, her fingers tracing along the worn spines of calligraphied of books, hoping that maybe, somewhere maybe, an answer would reveal itself and she could go to bed in peace.
But one keyword turned into two, two turned into four, and soon Diana was once more buried in a sea of language that didn’t make sense. She sulked the entire time on the walk past the black lake, fearing Professor Sinistra's wrath towards those who didn't turn in their assigned work. Then suddenly, crash! Tiny glass bottles hit the ground, shattering on impact. Luna Lovegood simply stood there, inquisitive, as Diana rambled on, scrambling to fix the mess she'd made while reparing the broken bottles that had dropped once they'd bumped into each other. The Ravenclaw had simply said that it was no bother, simply siphoning the liquid back into the bottles and asking if she was alright.
Granted, she had been very frustrated, and granted, it was very late at night, but Diana still doesn't know what made her explode and burst into sobs. She doesn't remember much of anything, actually; there's the faint touches of Luna serenely patting her on the head, tucking the both of them into a far-off alcove away from patrolling prefects and meddling professors, the faint scent of lavender surrounding her completely.
After many tears, "it's okay"s and insistance that she was "perfectly bloody fine!", Diana finally mustered up the desperation to ask Luna for help, knowing that she was one of the best students in Sinistra's class. The other girl had readily accepted, an owlish grin on her face, and after a good half an hour of work, Diana had proudly marched up to her professor's desk and slid the completed paper onto the rich mahogany the next morning. Luna Lovegood had simply laughed when the younger Malfoy had thanked her, brushing it off with a "you did half of it yourself" and "don't go thanking me for nothing".
And when the same, owlish smile spread across her face again, Diana swore her heart stopped for a moment at how much it suited Luna's delicate features.
It took two weeks for Diana to muster the courage to ask her out for coffee. Yes, she's a fucking chicken, and yes, her social skills are so inept that it takes an entire pep talk and two cups of coffee for her to be able to raise her hand in class without constantly putting herself down. She knows this very well. It was supposed to be a thanks of sorts, for helping a fellow classmate, but somehow, she's gotten in a bit too deep.
Luna is . . . . . odd, there's no denying it. With her butterbeer cork necklace, tiny radish earrings and the permanent, starry-eyed look that seems to be etched onto her face, people tend to stare whenever she passes by them in the halls. She's seen the cruel words whispered in hallways where no one's looking, that she's a freak. Unwanted. Batshit crazy. That beneath the dreamy voice and quizzical statements, is the soul of someone who will never fit in no matter how hard they try. A freak.
But even though on the surface, Diana may seen like your typical, society-conforming do-gooder, she connects more deeply to Luna than anyone else in her life. Although Maya is certainly a very good friend (at least, beneath the quiet, stoic exterior that hides her true nature), she distances parts of herself that she deems too flawed for others to see, masking over them with quick changes in conversation and guarded expressions that tell you not to press further. It's a certain form of perfectionism, something that she's also noticed in her brother. Diana tries to get her to open up, she really does, but knows that it's something about Maya that no one can really change. She knows that it may be damn near impossible, given what the young warlock has been put through until now. But still, deep down, Diana knows that there's a small part of Maya that will always try to protect herself, no matter how far she presses through.
There's this strange feeling that's blossoming inside her, a voice in her head that she's no longer been able to shut out. Her short blonde locks and matronly pinafores suddenly feel suffocating, as though they're nothing more than a gilded cage for her to hide behind. Diana suddenly feels bolder, more confident. She wants to burn those dreaded skirts and buy a pair of jeans, paint the ceiling of their dormitory with shimmering moons and stars, grow her hair out and dye it candy pink. Luna knows about these feelings; she's even encouraged them a couple times, helping her out with shopping and pep-talking when needed. It's as if an incandescent string is drawing them together, two everlasting souls bonded together by the rejection of society, trying to figure out who they are in this complicated, mottled mess of a world.
No matter what she tries to herself, Diana knows that she's getting attached to the Ravenclaw far too quick.
And she doesn't know whether to be wary or excited for what comes next in this new chapter of her life.
The sun's rays are abusing the sky by the time Maya finally comes back into reality.
She groans immediately as she wakes up, raising up an arm to block out the sunlight from her eyes. Her head feels like it's been repeatedly smashed with an axe, jarring, throbbing pain radiating throughout her temples. Maya yawns and immediately chokes, gagging at the dry, sandpaper-like taste in her mouth. The world seems to spin around her, violently blurring and twisting as she groans, burying her face in an emerald silk pillow-
Emerald silk pillow.
These aren't her sheets.
"Maya?"
She screams and jolts awake in panic, pulling the blankets up to her chest. Her body immediately regrets this decision, muscles bunching up and screaming in pain.
"Hey, hey! Don't panic!" Diana grabs her by the shoulders, Maya immediately freezing, "It's just me"
"Wha-" She looks down at herself, still in the glittering dress from last night. Maya presses a hand to her temples, which now pulse frequently in pain. Her body feels sluggish, barely awake; every movement seems to bring sensory overload, hoarse voice barely being able to form words, "What - what the fuck?"
"Oh god, you're still slurring, " mutters Diana, brushing her friend's hair out of her eyes. Maya catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror across from the bed and immediately recoils. She looks like a banshee; eyes bloodshot and bags the size of potato sacks, hair matted and tangled, smeared makeup giving her the look of a raccoon, "Must be a hell of a hangover-"
"Hangover?" Maya questions, confused. Her brain is still foggy, not quite knowing where she is and what she's doing.
Diana looks at her in utter shock; Maya's never seen her eyes this wide, "You - you don't remember anything, do you?"
"Yes . . . . " Maya slurs, lying back, an arm over her eyes to protect them from the sunlight, "No . . . "
"Wait, drink this" Diana reaches into her tote, pulling out a corked flask filled with bright purple liquid, "It's a hangover potion"
"My throat feels fucked" Maya wheezes out, groaning at the pain in her ankles; she's never going to wear heels again, "My legs feel fucked . . . "
"Did you . . . . well . . . fuck anyone?"
"I have no clue"
Diana's eyebrows raise as she uncorks the bottle, handing it to Maya, who begrudgingly grabs it and downs the whole thing. It tastes like battery acid; combined with the dryness, she barely manages to choke it down. But the worst part is when her mind starts to clear, unfog, as they call it, and the reality of the previous night's events come back to slap her in the face.
Giggling . . . . tipsy, multicolored lights flashing around her as she seductively sways her hips, dancing with Diana at the party. Shots of tequila rushing down her throat, the alcohol diffusing into her soul as she blows a kiss at Theodore Nott, him winking back just as suggestively.
The blurry sight of the Astronomy tower coming into view, starlit like a Van Gogh painting. A tall, looming figure standing at the edge, her heels lazily dragging against the stone as she holds the walls for balance.
"There's also the fact that you're really fucking gorgeous to look at" she huffs, almost angrily, as Draco Malfoy's eyes stare back at her in absolute shock, "Which makes me feel some type of way and I don't even know how to unravel that . . . "
Pressing herself against him . . . . his hand in the curve of her lower back, looking into his silvery eyes . . . tracing his cheekbone and whispering, "Do you want to kiss me, Malfoy?" He turns red, looking anywhere but her as her eyes travel down to the popped open buttons on his shirt, wondering what it would be like to trace her fingers along the corded muscle beneath. . . .
Pressing her head against his chest, breathing in his scent of mahogany, mint and something oddly woodsy . . . him lifting her body over his shoulder, the halls moving past them . . . . he sets her down on the bed as her eyes flutter shut, feeling pleasantly fuzzy as the alcohol pulls her under . . . . feeling his fingertips graze the curve of her shoulder before his presence disappears.
Maya sits there, frozen in time, slack-jawed from the memories currently going through her head. Mortification spreads through her body until it feels as though she's drowning in it, choking to death in the sea of embarrassment surrounding her.
"Well . . . . did you . . . get fucked?" Diana stutters, awkwardly, the same sheet of red painting her cheeks.
"If you mean that I fucked myself over- " Maya chokes, barely able to form coherent speech, "Then yes, I certainly did"
"What happened?"
"Let's just say I'll never be able to look your brother in the eye again . . . . "
"You slept with him?!' Diana shrieks, all the blood draining out of her face. Maya swears under her breath, the loud sound feeling like it's rattling her brain inside her skull.
"No! Of course not! Are you mental?" She crosses her arms over herself defensively, "I just . . . "
"What?"
"I . . . "
"Just spit it out, how bad can it be?"
"I - I - " Maya stutters, looking more like a tomato as the seconds pass, "Iflirtedwithhimandaskedifhewantedtokissmethenipassedoutinhisarmsandhecarriedmehere"
Diana stares at her, "I didn't catch a word you just said, "
"I - well - " Maya stutters, wishing she could sink into the ground and perish, "I started flirting wih him . . . . asked - asked if he wanted to k-kiss me," - Diana chokes on her water at this, eyes wide - "Then I passed out, and I think - I think he carried me here?!"
There's a dramatic pause, in which neither of them know what to say; Diana's eyebrows are raised so far that they blend in with her hair, she's staring at the ground as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. Maya wails and buries her face in her hands, pulling the covers so tightly around herself that she looks like a swaddled baby.
"Well, " Diana states, still not looking at her, voice high and choked, "You're fucked, "
Maya whimpers as though she's in physical pain, hands in her hair almost tearing the chunks off by their roots, "What have I done?!"
"Hey - " Diana looks like she's trying to convince herself more than Maya, "He - he could've been drunk too, you never know-"
"I don't think he would've been coordinated enough to carry me here - oh GOD!" Maya wails, miserably, rocking back and forth in her place; Diana looks like she's going to vomit, "He remembers everything, doesn't he?"
"You couldn't have said anything that bad . . . "
"I called him gorgeous, " Maya chokes out, barely believing her own words.
"Oh, " Diana's eyes widen, she's staring at the ground with major interest again.
"I said I couldn't stay away from him, "
"Bloody hell"
"I told him I had a dream about him kissing me, "
"What?!"
"Why didn't you stop me after the iced tea?!" Maya whimpers, tugging on her roots so harshly that Diana yanks her hands away from her hair.
"I didn't think the alcohol would take that long to hit you!!" Diana laments, sounding just as embarrassed as Maya, "You're a warlock, Maya, I thought you'd already have some sort of tolerance!!"
"Well, apparently I don't!!" Maya screams, feeling like she wants to go back and slap her past self across the face for her sheer stupidity, "Apparently, I like to go around telling boys that I want to kiss them!!"
"Oh, calm down, " Diana scoffs, "Knowing my brother, I'm sure he's just as embarrassed as you, "
This alleviates Maya's anxiety by a tad, but doesn't completely take it away as the tap of an owl beak resounds from the window. Diana crosses the room before her, opening the window and paying the bird as Maya summons the roll of parchment into her hand. This seems to catch her friend off guard; Diana tries to grab it before Maya can open the damn thing.
"Don't read it, " she sputters, face white with anxiety.
"It's a newspaper, Diana, " Maya rolls her eyes, slowly unfolding the paper, "Not a bomb, "
"Maya, seriously-"
And then she sees it, clear as day, plastered across the front page.
"SHE'S OFF HER ROCKER: WHAT TWISTED WARLOCK MAYA RAJESH HAS BEEN HIDING ALL THIS TIME"
The cover photo is her eleven year old self at her elementary-school graduation, eyes bright and hopeful, smile taunting as the younger version of herself stares up at her. Maya wants to scream, she wants to cry, set her own hair on fire if circumstances permit.
And just like that, her life spirals downhill once again.
Crazy, that's what everyone thinks she is now.
The article seems to want to peel back the layers from her skin, showcasing the raw, mangled muscle underneath, stripped down to her bones. They've really gone all-out for this special day, interviewing classmates from her catholic school days, her mother's colleagues, even members in the upper sect of the Clave who despise her and her family. Her entire life has been twisted to portray her as a monster; a ruthless, ambitious bitch ready to do whatever it takes to fight her way to the top. Some of the things in writing are quite nasty, "She was always a problem child, "
"Her mother neglected her, " "All she wants is her fifteen minutes of fame", "Rotten, the entire family is," . . .
Her room constantly smells like smoke now, congested from burning the million hate letters she recieves every day. Maya can remember waking up in the middle of the night, to a howler screaming filthy words at her, telling her to just "die already, you conniving bitch!!". Some go as far as to assume she's a teenage death eater, working closely with Voldemort to bring the boy-who-lived back into his clutches. Maya would laugh, normally, at how ridiculous their opinions are.
But now, she can't even summon the energy to breathe
'
Maya slumps down into a chair, four days later, as her classmates mill out of the common room, whispering and shooting looks at her disheveled state. She drags his Potions essay reluctantly from her bag and sets to work, willing to do anything to escape the dark confines of her mind at the present moment. Fred and George appear finally to have perfected one type of Skiving Snackbox, which they are taking turns to demonstrate to a cheering and whooping crowd. First, Fred takes a bite out of the orange end of a chew, at which he vomits spectacularly into a bucket they have placed in front of them. Then he forces down the purple end of the chew, at which the vomiting immediately ceases. Lee Jordan, who's assisting the demonstration, lazily Vanishes the vomit at regular intervals with the same Vanishing Spell Snape keeps using on Harry's potions. What with the regular sounds of retching, cheering and the sound of Fred and George taking advance orders from the crowd, Maya finds it exceptionally difficult to focus on the correct method for Strengthening Solution. Hermione isn't helping matters; the cheers and the sound of vomit hitting the bottom of Fred and George's bucket are punctuated by her loud and disapproving sniffs.
'Just go and stop them, then!' Harry says, irritably, after crossing out the wrong weight of powdered griffin claw for the fourth time.
'I can't, they're not technically doing anything wrong,' says Hermione through gritted teeth, 'They're quite within their rights to eat the foul things themselves and I can't find a rule that says the other idiots aren't entitled to buy them, not unless they're proven to be dangerous in some way and it doesn't look as though they are.'
She, Harry and Ron and Maya watch George projectile-vomit into the bucket, gulp down the rest of the chew and straighten up, beaming with his arms wide to protracted applause.
'You know, I don't get why Fred and George only got three OWLs each,' says Harry, watching as Fred, George and Lee collect gold from the eager crowd, 'They really know their stuff.'
'Oh, they only know flashy stuff that's of no real use to anyone,' says Hermione disparagingly.
'No real use?' says Ron in a strained voice. 'Hermione, they've made about twenty-six Galleons already.'
It's a long while before the crowd around the Weasley twins disperses, then Fred, Lee and George sit up counting their takings even longer, so it's well past midnight when Harry, Ron, Maya and Hermione finally have the common room to themselves. At long last, Fred closes the doorway to the boys' dormitories behind him, rattling his box of Galleons ostentatiously so that Hermione scowls. Harry, who is making very little progress with his Potions essay, decides to give it up for the night. As he put his books away, Ron, who's dozing lightly in an armchair, gives a muffled grunt, awoke, and looks blearily into the fire. '
Sirius!' he says.
Maya jumps in shock, immediately staring into the fire. Sirius's untidy dark head is sitting in the fire again.
'Hi,' he says, grinning.
'Hi,' chorus Harry, Ron, Maya and Hermione, all four npw kneeling down on the hearthrug. Crookshanks purrs loudly and approaches the fire, trying, despite the heat, to put his face close to Sirius's.
'How're things?' says Sirius.
'Not that good,' says Harry, as Hermione pulls Crookshanks back to stop him singeing his whiskers, "The Ministry's forced through another decree, which means we're not allowed to have Quidditch teams — '
'Or secret Defence Against the Dark Arts groups?, " says Sirius.
There's a short pause.
'How did you know about that?' Maya questions, shell-shocked
'You want to choose your meeting places more carefully,' says Sirius, grinning still more broadly, 'The Hog's Head, I ask you.'
'Well, it was better than the Three Broomsticks!' says Hermione defensively, 'That's always packed with people — '
'Which means you'd have been harder to overhear,' says Sirius. 'You've got a lot to learn, Hermione.'
'Who overheard us?' Harry demands.
'Mundungus, of course,' says Sirius, and when they all look puzzled he laughs. 'He was the witch under the veil.'
That was Mundungus?' Maya says, stunned. 'What was he doing in the Hog's Head?'
'What do you think he was doing?' says Sirius impatiently. 'Keeping an eye on you, of course.'
'I'm still being followed?' asks Harry angrily.
'Yeah, you are,' says Sirius, 'and just as well, isn't it, if the first thing you're going to do on your weekend off is organise an illegal defence group.'
But he looks neither angry nor worried. On the contrary, he now looks at Harry with distinct pride.
'Why was Dung hiding from us?' asks Ron, sounding disappointed. 'We'd've liked to've seen him.'
'He was banned from the Hog's Head twenty years ago,' says Sirius, 'and that barman's got a long memory. We lost Moody's spare Invisibility Cloak when Sturgis was arrested, so Dung's been dressing as a witch a lot lately . . . anyway . . . first of all, Ron — I've sworn to pass on a message from your mother.'
'Oh yeah?' says Ron, sounding apprehensive. 'She says on no account whatsoever are you to take part in an illegal secret Defence Against the Dark Arts group. She says you'll be expelled for sure and your future will be ruined. She says there will be plenty of time to learn how to defend yourself later and that you are too young to be worrying about that right now. She also' (Sirius's eyes turn to the other three) 'advises Harry, Maya and Hermione not to proceed with the group, though she accepts that she has no authority over either of them and simply begs them to remember that she has their best interests at heart. She would have written all this to you, but if the owl had been intercepted you'd all have been in real trouble, and she can't say it for herself because she's on duty tonight.'
'On duty doing what?' says Ron quickly.
'Never you mind, just stuff for the Order,' says Sirius. 'So it's fallen to me to be the messenger and make sure you tell her I passed it all on, because I don't think she trusts me to.'
There's another pause in which Crookshanks, mewing, attempts to paw Sirius's head, and Ron fiddles with a hole in the hearthrug.
'So, you want me to say I'm not going to take part in the Defence group?' he mutters, finally.
'Me? Certainly not!' says Sirius, looking surprised. 'I think it's an excellent idea!'
'You do?' says Harry, sounding stunned.
'You do?' questions Maya, utter bewilderment filling her voice.
'Of course I do!' says Sirius. 'D'you think your father and I would've lain down and taken orders from an old hag like Umbridge?'
'But — last term all you did was tell me to be careful and not take risks — '
'Last year, all the evidence was that someone inside Hogwarts was trying to kill you, Harry!' says Sirius impatiently, 'This year, we know there's someone outside Hogwarts who'd like to kill us all, so I think learning to defend yourselves properly is a very good idea!'
'And if we do get expelled?' Hermione asks, a quizzical look on her face.
'Hermione, this whole thing was your idea!' says Maya, staring at her.
'I know it was. I just wondered what Sirius thought,' she says, shrugging.
'Well, better expelled and able to defend yourselves than sitting safely in school without a clue,' says Sirius.
'Hear, hear,' say Harry and Ron enthusiastically.
'So,' says Sirius, 'how are you organising this group? Where are you meeting?'
'Well, thats a bit of a problem now, says Harry,' Dunno where we're going to be able to go.'
'How about the Shrieking Shack?' suggests Sirius.
'Hey, that's an idea!' says Ron excitedly, but Hermione makes a sceptical noise and all three of them look at her, Sirius's head turns in the flames.
'Well, Sirius, it's just that there were only four of you meeting in the Shrieking Shack when you were at school,' says Hermione, 'and all of you could transform into animals and I suppose you could all have squeezed under a single Invisibility Cloak if you'd wanted to. But there are twenty-eight of us and none of us is an Animagus, so we wouldn't need so much an Invisibility Cloak as an Invisibility Marquee — '
'Fair point,' says Sirius, looking slightly crestfallen. 'Well, I'm sure you'll come up with somewhere. There used to be a pretty roomy secret passageway behind that big mirror on the fourth floor, you might have enough space to practise jinxes in there.'
'Fred and George told me it's blocked,' says Harry, shaking his head. 'Caved in or something.'
'Oh . . .' says Sirius, frowning. 'Well, I'll have a think and get back to — '
He breaks off. His face is suddenly tense, alarmed. He turns sideways, apparently looking into the solid brick wall of the fireplace.
'Sirius?' says Harry anxiously. But he vanishes.
Maya gapes at the flames for a moment, then turns to look at Ron and Hermione. 'Why did he — ?'
Hermione gives a horrified gasp and leaps to her feet, still staring at the fire. A hand appears amongst the flames, groping as though to catch hold of something; a stubby, short-fingered hand covered in ugly old-fashioned rings. The three of them run for it. At the door of the girls' dormitory, Maya looked back.
Umbridge's hand is still making snatching movements amongst the flames, as though she knows exactly where Sirius's hair had been moments before and is determined to seize it.
One thing is for sure; war is brewing. And this time, things aren't going to end well for either side.
merry fucking christmas, my loves <3. expect more soon, i'm on school break :)
Chapter 32: Chapter 32
Chapter Text
TW: blatant racism, mentions of past sexual harrassment/non-consensual touching, ptsd symptoms.
"Are they staring? I feel like they're staring. . . . "
Diana's heart hammers in her chest as Luna's fingers graze her cheekbone, tucking a strand of her now-bubblegum pink hair, tucking it behind her ear. A shiver goes down her spine at the sudden rush of contact.
"They're always staring, " replies the Ravenclaw, in her usual mystical tones. Her voice seems to float into the air, Diana thinks, like steam from a hot cup of tea, "Thought you'd be used to it by now, "
"They're never staring at me, " She looks out, anxiously. A gaggle of Slytherin girls walk past their retreating figures; Pansy Parkinson catches sight of her and bursts into giggles, "God, I hate her . . . "
Luna twirls one of her wild, ash-blonde curls around her index finger, her pale blue eyes gleaming in the faint sun. They're wrapped in chilly scarves and winter coats to combat the cold weather, paper cups of steaming hot chocolate in their hands.
"Why do you care so much?" The tone of her voice is questioning, but not harshly prying, "About what they think?"
Diana fiddles with the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt -- as always, the signature Malfoy onyx. But now, instead of being a source of pride, the color makes her stomach turn.
"I don't really know, " she replies, softly, after a few minutes, "I just . . . feel guilty, I guess, "
"For dyeing your own hair?" Luna questions, turning to face her. Her crystalline eyes seem more protuberant than ever, as if they're designed to see right through you.
“I don’t know . . . . “ Diana sighs, leaning forward as she places her hands in her lap. She doesn’t know why she made such a rash decision. Even though colored hair isn’t technically against Hogwarts rules, she supposes Professor Snape wouldn’t be too pleased if Diana showed up to his class with her bubblegum locks.
The thought of going home for winter break suddenly feels a lot less safe.
Fuck, she didn’t even think about Lucius and his rules. Diana wasn’t even allowed to grow her hair past her shoulders, let alone colour it pink. She can imagine what would happen if he saw; Narcissa’s shriek of horror, being locked in her room the entire time and dismissing the cuts and bruises as from a fall down the stairs, shoving the shards of the firewhiskey glass thrown at her under the bed.
Maya was surprisingly chill about the whole thing; she’d been a little shocked at first, but soon ran her fingers through Diana’s hair, ruffling it, claiming that it suited her pale skin very well.
“Makes you look like a real-life rosebush, “ she had mused, a smile turning up the corner of her mouth, “Cute, “
Diana doesn’t know if she should go home with Maya or not. She’s afraid to ask, not wanting to intrude on whatever little time the warlock has with her family. After all, Maya can’t just run over whenever she likes; she lives halfway across the world for Merlin’s sake. And there’s also the matter of her blonde friend – no, not her brother (although Diana highly doubts Maya ever thought of him in a friendly manner at first). God, she doesn’t even know if she’ll be able to make eye contact with Jace anymore. The flirting, his smile, the not-kiss that Diana had so graciously avoided . . . . there’s no way that they can be around each other without someone noticing the tension.
And she doesn’t want to explain to everyone the feelings that make her back out at the first sign of physical escalation.
"You're scared about going home, aren't you?" Luna says this in such a casual tone that it shocks Diana herself at how easily she's able to be read. She stares at the Ravenclaw, bewildered, “There’s kelpies flocking around your head, “
“Kelpies?” Diana’s confused, but Luna ignores her.
“You could just come home with me, you know, “
“What?” Her cheeks turn pink, a phenomenon that looks vibrant on her pale skin, "Are you mad?!"
"We're all a little mad, Diana, " Her name rolls off the Ravenclaw's tongue like honey, making the blush on her cheeks deepen, "You want to get away from your parents, I want to do something other than arrange the garden gnomes according to feng shui. Besides, Dad'll be happy to see you. It's been years since I've brought a friend over to stay, and I'm sure we'll have room for you, "
Diana thinks it over, for a moment, as both of them look out at the paper-white landscape of the black lake. Maya's skating by herself on the black lake, wrapped in a black, peter-pan collared dress with woolen tights of the same color underneath. She doesn't skate like she used to, Diana notices. Before, her movements were precise, careful, but with a certain vulnerability to them, a deftness that was unique to her in itself. Now, there's a darkness that abounds her, unnervingly sharpening her movements, hiding the authenticity she used to have. It's scary, and yet -- Diana observes, sitting under one of the beech trees -- beautiful all at once.
"Diana?"
Luna looks at her questioningly, waiting for an answer. Crystallized snowflakes have been caught in her lashes, sparkling in the dim light of the evening, her cheeks pink from the cold. She looks like an angel, Diana realizes, gulping, all soft and pure and snow-white. Everything Diana herself isn't.
The words leave her lips before she has a chance to think.
"Why not?"
"This is absurd . . . . " mutters Isabelle, on video call, as she stares at the headline of the newspaper Maya holds up to the camera, "Now they're debating about your race?!"
"Racism isn't a thing of the past in Rajesh's background," Alec reads, leaning over his sister, who tries to swat his much larger body out of the way, "Her mother has been very vocal about the discrimination that exists in the Shadow world, stating that the Clave uses their white privilege to oppress and exclude minorities in their more recently published laws. Nandini Subramanian has championed for more representation in the Nephilim government, and frequently talks about the microaggressions her people face in their day to day lives. Looking at all of this, it seems that Maya Rajesh must be proud to have such a revolutionary mother, who fights for inclusion in a world where your blood decides your place in society. But, upon closer inspection, it seems that her defense is a bit hypocritical, since after all, her own daughter is able to pass as Indian, when she is not. That's right, folks, Maya Rajesh isn't the dark chocolate truffle she's cracked up to be; the controversial warlock is actually mixed-race, a fact that's somehow been brushed under the rug all this time, "
"How can her mother talk about white privilege, when her daughter uses her brown-passing privilege as a way to fit into a community that excludes her?," Rage simmers underneath Maya's skin, "According to her old classmates, Maya Rajesh wasn't exactly one to shy away from cultural appropriation. The French-Swiss-German warlock frequently showed up to school with henna and jhumka earrings accessorising her Catholic school uniform. Even though this broke the dress code, she was still allowed to continue with her audacious behavior because of her mother insisting that it was an important part of her culture (one that she is only half-part of, and therefore, has no right to claim as hers). Various other incidents like this have been reported anonymously, such as during the Yule ball, when Rajesh showed up in a yellow-and-white lehenga, a traditional Indian garment reserved for women during marriages and special occasions. . . . "
There's a horrified silence for a moment; it's clear that her friends have no clue how to react. Isabelle has her head in her hands; Alec's fists are clenched so tightly that his rage is plainly visible, Jace is dead white. They must know how it feels, Maya realizes, to have people constantly exclude you. Isabelle and Alec are both half Spanish; Maryse's family originally hails from Alicante, a historic town in Spain.
"W-what gives her the right-" Isabelle starts. Maya feels hot tears of shame pooling behind her eyes; she swears that she's never been this angry in her life. She presses her hands hard against her skirt to quell the tremors that spread through them from rage.
Deep breaths, she tells herself, even as her heart rate spikes, You shouldn't be caring about what that hag Veronica Spindlewood assumes.
"This makes no sense, " Alec stammers; Maya's never seen him at a loss of words, "Even - even if you're - y'know - mixed, you still have every right to participate in whichever part of your culture you wish. Cultural appropriation -- what the fuck?!"
Maya's stomach twists as she reads aloud a particular line, "One of her old classmates, at The Constance Billiard (A highly selective Catholic school on the upper west side of New York), agreed to speak to us. Cameron Butler, 17, says, "She thought she was better than everyone just because of her grades. I asked her out one time, when we were in seventh grade . . . had the nerve to say that she was out of my league . . . "
Something freezes in the air, twisting shards of glass up her spine. Her ears seem to ring and Maya cuts the call, ignoring the protests of her friends as she slams her phone down on her bed.
Out of all people, they interviewed Cameron.
Her mouth is dry as she recalls that night against her will; the night of the audition for the talent show. Maya had been a happy, starry-eyed twelve-year old with a passion for dance. Her mom had encouraged her to take Bharathanatyam from the age of nine, and she'd fallen in love with it, admiring the grace and integrity that the dancers carried themselves with. She'd chosen to perform a semi-classical dance for a song from the "Bhool Bhulaiyaa" soundtrack, wanting to do something unique that would simultaneously show off a part of her culture, practicing for weeks on end until her legs felt like they would fall off.
It had seemed as if Kismet herself had decided to throw a smile her way on the day of the audition; Maya managed to get through her routine flawlessly, her ghungroo anklets chiming perfectly to the beat of Mere Dholna Sun. He'd been in the crowd the entire time; Cameron, watching her with critical, amused eyes. Maya had been confused at his stare; was the son of the Performing Arts chairman even supposed to be watching the auditions? Nevertheless, she'd returned to the dressing room over the moon, ignoring the gnawing pain in her ankles after a standing ovation from the crowd, and thunderous applause from the judges.
He'd walked into the girl's locker room just as Maya was taking off her heavy, temple-style jewelery, still joyously humming the beats to the song under her breath. She'd shrieked as soon as she saw him leaning against one of the cubicles, scrambling to throw a shirt over her head as Cameron smirked, running a hand through his copper hair. However, her original joy had dimmed as he told her the truth in a bored, drawling voice -- She wasn't going to be picked after all.
Rebecca Schaefer's parents were on the school board, and the judges had been pigeon-holed into a corner; either pick her ballet performance for the last spot in the dance section, or risk a bribery lawsuit that could potentially get most of the higher-ups fired. There was absolutely no hope for her, he had said, in a voice meant to be sympathetic, Unless she could do him one teeny, tiny little favor . . . then maybe, he'd put in a good word with his father for her and she might just get to perform her little spectacle . . .
(tw: non-con starts here, please scroll past if you're uncomfortable)
"What favor?" she had asked, innocently, with an underlying sense of dread in her voice; this went against every moral fibre she had in her body, but she'd worked so hard and -
The entire thing was a blur from there. He had stalked towards her and grabbed her hips, pushing her against the lockers as white-hot panic shot through her body. Maya had struggled in his grip as one hand clapped over her mouth, the other snaking up her leggings-covered thigh, squeezing hard enough to bruise. "Don't you want to dance?" Cameron had whispered in her ear, fingers curling around the waistband of her pants, as twelve-year-old had Maya gasped in horror against his palm, "Show the world what you're capable of?".
She'd frozen in place, and at that moment, thankfully, the blaring horn of Nandini's ancient jeep sounded from the parking lot. Maya had pushed him back so hard he'd fallen to the floor, furiously straightening her clothes before running out the door with her bag in her hands. Her eyes burned the entire way back home, but she was dead silent, looking down at her lap as Nandini cheerfully praised her and asked how the audition had gone. Maya had barely been able to force words out of her mouth, her legs tightly pressed together, the feeling of his hand still pressed to her thigh sending terrified tremors down her spine.
Nandini had never figured out what truly happened, and Maya's never told her the whole truth. She remembers withdrawing from the showcase as soon as the news came out that she had gotten in. Her mother was shocked; weeks upon weeks of hard work gone to waste, and she'd had a few choice words about lack of commitment for her daughter. Maya had taken the blame, and eventually, found the strength to push it down, and act like it had never happened in the first place. She ended up outgrowing the anklets, and eventually . . . the dance classes as well.
At least, that's what she told herself back then.
(end of tw; no non-con content from this point on)
It's been three years since she's last set foot in a Bharatanatyam studio, and since she left Constance Billiard for good, after Nandini found out she was being bullied and immediately withdrew her. A sudden chill takes over her as the memories come rushing back, and Maya yanks open the bedcovers, throwing herself under the red and gold sheets as she curls in around herself.
She closes her eyes, pulling the blankets up to her chin. Goosebumps line her arms, and Maya shakily breathes in, swallowing the lump in her throat. She shoves the sick feelings in her stomach deep down, until it's no longer coursing through her veins. Back to where they were in the first place.
Maya turns on her back, and exhales, opening her eyes and staring up at the red and gold of her canopy.
"I am more than this, " she whispers, so quietly that only she can hear herself, "I am better than this. It's going to be okay, "
Maybe if she says it enough times, the words will manifest themselves and become true.
"You kissed . . . Cho Chang?!" Maya questions, incredulously, later that evening in the common room after their last D.A. meeting before break. Harry's face turns bright red, hinting at the answer to her question.
'Well?' Ron demands. Harry looks from Ron's expression of mingled curiosity and hilarity to Hermione's slight frown, and nods.
'HA!' Ron makes a triumphant gesture with his fist and goes into a raucous peal of laughter that makes several timid-looking second-years over beside the window jump. Maya snorts. A reluctant grin spreads over Harry's face as he watches Ron rolling around on the hearthrug. Hermione gives Ron a look or deep disgust and returns to her letter. Maya suspects it's addressed to a certain tall, handsome Bulgarian quidditch player.
'Well?' Ron says finally, looking up at Harry. 'How was it?'
Harry considers this for a moment.
'Wet,' he says. Diana shudders. Maya chokes on her water. Ron makes a noise that indicates jubilation or disgust, it's hard to tell.
'Because she was crying,' Harry continues heavily.
"She was crying?!" Diana questions, twirling a strand of her bubblegum-pink hair around her finger; it's grown out to her shoulders, falling flatteringly around her heart-shaped face, "Were you really that bad?"
'Dunno,' says Harry, now looking a bit insecure. 'Maybe I am.'
'Of course you're not,' says Hermione absently, still scribbling away at her letter.
'How do you know?' says Ron very sharply.
'Get your mind out of the gutter, Ron, " Maya snaps, rolling her eyes. He gives her an incredulous look. She glares at him back
'Because Cho spends half her time crying these days,' says Hermione vaguely. 'She does it at mealtimes, in the loos, all over the place.'
'You'd think a bit of kissing would cheer her up,' says Ron, grinning. Maya smacks the back of his head with her newspaper, he winces and glares at her.
'Ron,' says Hermione in a dignified voice, dipping the point of her quill into her inkpot, 'you are the most insensitive wart I have ever had the misfortune to meet.'
'What's that supposed to mean?' says Ron indignantly. 'What sort of person cries while someone's kissing them?'
'Yeah,' says Harry, slightly desperately, 'who does?'. Diana puts her head in her hands. Maya groans.
Hermione looks at the pair of them with an almost pitying expression on her face.
'Don't you understand how Cho's feeling at the moment?' she asks.
'No,' say Harry and Ron together.
"Boys" mutters Diana, amused, "Such observant creatures, "
Hermione sighs and lies down her quill. 'Well, obviously, she's feeling very sad, because of Cedric dying. Then I expect she's feeling confused because she liked Cedric and now she likes Harry, and she can't work out who she likes best. Then she'll be feeling guilty, thinking it's an insult to Cedric's memory to be kissing Harry at all, and she'll be worrying about what everyone else might say about her if she starts going out with Harry. And she probably can't work out what her feelings towards Harry are, anyway, because he was the one who was with Cedric when Cedric died, so that's all very mixed up and painful. Oh, and she's afraid she's going to be thrown off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team because she's been flying so badly.'
A slightly stunned silence greeted the end of this speech, then Maya says, a little dazed, "I don't know whether to admire or be scared of how well you psycho-analyze people, "
'One person can't feel all that at once, they'd explode.' says Ron, confused.
'Just because you've got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn't mean we all have,' says Hermione nastily, picking up her quill again.
'She was the one who started it,' says Harry. 'I wouldn't've — she just sort of came at me — and next thing she's crying all over me — I didn't know what to do — '
'Don't blame you, mate,' says Ron, looking alarmed at the very thought.
'You just had to be nice to her,' says Hermione, looking up anxiously. 'You were, weren't you?'
'Well,' says Harry, an unpleasant heat creeping up his face, 'I sort of — patted her on the back a bit.'
Hermione looks as though she's restraining herself from rolling her eyes with extreme difficulty; Diana, on the other hand, does the exact opposite. 'Well, I suppose it could have been worse,' she says 'Are you going to see her again?'
'I'll have to, won't I?' says Harry. 'We've got DA meetings, haven't we?'
'You know what I mean,' says Hermione impatiently. Harry remains silent, now looking down at the carpet like it's the most interesting thing in the world.
'Oh well,' says Hermione distantly, buried in her letter once more, 'you'll have plenty of opportunities to ask her.'
'What if he doesn't want to ask her?' says Ron, who's been watching Harry with an unusually shrewd expression on his face.
'Don't be silly, says Hermione vaguely, Harry's liked her for ages, haven't you, Harry?' He doesn't answer.
'Who're you writing the novel to, anyway?' Ron asks Hermione, trying to read the bit of parchment now trailing on the floor. Hermione hitches it up out of sight. 'Viktor.'
'Krum?'
'How many other Viktors do we know?'
Ron says nothing, but looks disgruntled. Maya sighs, getting up and packing her things to head to the room of requirement. She has an essay to finish, and the common room isn't exactly the most welcome place to study right now.
Thank god my love life is non-existent, she thinks to herself, climbing out of the portrait hole.
If there's one thing that Maya's learned from her life, it's that no one can be trusted with her heart. Sometimes, not even herself.
Click . . . clack . . chime!
Maya swishes along the ceramic floor of the ballroom, draped in her grand, orange-and-green Bharathanatyam costume, her feet moving perfectly along to the beat of the song. The shimmering ghungroos on her ankle jingle in time, and she brushes a stray hair out of her eyes, her hands focused on the correct mudra formations accompanying the song. It's times like these where she feels truly invincible; it's just her, the music, and the dance floor under her feet. Her entire body feels light, mind clear; only focused on what movements will tell the story next. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror -- eyes lined with dark, thick eyeliner and jewellery dripping from every crevice of her body -- and comes to a stop as the music winds down, finishing in the classic ending pose; balanced on one foot, one arm raised above her body, the other going across her hips.
Nothing has ever felt more perfect than this moment.
Suddenly, something drags her backwards, as she screams, falling onto her stomach. The jasmine garland from her hair flies out as she's dragged across the classroom, pure-white flowers unspooling and the petals tearing on the floor. Maya screams as the imitation pearl necklace shatters with the force of how hard she's thrown against the wall, her shoulder bursting in pain. She heaves, curled up into a ball, struggling to support herself as footsteps edge closer to her.
Maya is abruptly yanked to her feet, one hand twisting violently in her once pristine-bun. Her eyeliner runs down her face in ugly black streaks and she feels the bells tumbling off of her anklets. Macnair sneers at her, hand twisting tighter as she screams in pain, struggling in his grip.
"You want to dance, little girl?" he quips, in a baby voice that sends shivers down her spine, "Yeah, right. Filth like you doesn't even deserve to walk on this earth."
He throws her onto her back, and suddenly, her mother replaces him, standing over her in all her five-foot nine glory. Nandini's face is terrifyingly angry, twisted, and Maya whimpers as she steps closer, menacingly, voice a low hiss.
"What daughter of mine would let herself be propositioned by a boy, in the girl's locker room nonetheless?!" she spits, venomously, "You are a disgrace to me . . . get out of my sight!!"
The figure then multiplies and morphs into Alec, Isabelle and Jace, all looking down at her with expressions of betrayal.
"We thought you were our friend . . . Maya . . . " Jace says, his voice shaking with rage as his golden eyes pierce into hers, "How could you lie to us?!"
"What - " Maya sputters, tears pooling in her eyes, "I never-"
"And now, you're lying again, " Alec scoffs, "Do you really think I was born yesterday?"
"I thought I could trust you, " Isabelle finally speaks, tears pooling in her dark brown eyes; Her beautiful face has been struck with anguish, "But you lied . . . you lied about who you were, what you did . . . "
"What?!" Maya whispers, tears pooling in her eyes, as she looks at them, turning her head, wildly. Her friends look at her like she's some kind of monster; makeup smeared, orange-and-green brocade torn, hair all over the place.
"This is madness, " mutters Jace, now looking at her as though he'd like nothing more than for Maya to disappear into the deep cracks of the earth, "Go burn in hell with your father. We never want to see you again, "
Maya cries, her anguished sobs echoing throughout the cavernous rooms as they disappear, only to be replaced by Magnus. She pushes herself back against the wall, as he laughs at her, a cruel malice in his eyes.
"You really thought that I was like an uncle to you?" he scoffs, staring down at her ruined, weak image, "By the Angel, you really are an insult to all warlocks. Pathetic. Can't even use your own magic properly, "
He leans down to her level, grabbing her by the chin and forcing her to face him; Maya realizes, with horror, that he's turned into Arjun. Wearing the exact same clothes as the day he died. Her once-father's amber-brown eyes stare at her with so much revulsion that she wants to die on the spot. Like she's everything he's never wanted her to turn into.
"You are worth nothing, Maya. , " he spits, venomously, as Maya gasps, her heart shattering inside her ribs, "The sooner you realize that, the better,"
Then suddenly, her whole world goes black.
"Maya, MAYA!! Wake up!!"
Maya gasps, bolting straight up and immediately knocking something -- or someone -- back. Her heart is hammering violently in her chest, and she gasps as her hands suddenly burn. The contents of the room are floating around her, her magic having escaped her control. She manages to catch her textbooks in midair, scrambling to put a cushion over them so they stay down.
Her hands won't stop trembling.
"Hey, hey, look at me" Maya turns to the side, her eyes widening when she sees none other than Draco Malfoy staring back at her. The warm weight of his hands on her shoulders ground her to reality, and she hears a crash, the contents of the room of requirement coming back down., "You all right?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it, not being able to form words. The sound of blood pounding in her ears slows down as she stares at him, but the horrible, unshakeable feeling of dread in her bones doesn't go away. In fact, it builds the more that Maya stares at him. She can't think, she can't feel, she can't even breathe without the horror spiking further and further in her chest, clawing at her throat, her lungs. Everything feels like too much. So, Maya does the only thing that makes sense at the moment.
She bursts into tears.
Draco freezes.
Granted, he doesn't know what he expected when he walked in on Maya Rajesh in the Room of Requirement, swathed in a bubble of her own magic. A blanket of cold sweat covering her skin, textbooks scattered all around her, the sight of her in pain was terrifying. He'd just wanted to get a banned book and leave, but when she whimpered and thrashed on the ground, pleading and crying out things that made his stomach twist in agony, Draco knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he just left her there.
So now he's here, arms awkwardly wrapped around a crying, shaking warlock who could probably vaporize him into a cloud of dust. Draco doesn't know why she isn't banishing him from here instantly. In fact, she seems to be doing quite the opposite; practically sitting in his lap, her head tucked into the curve between his neck and shoulder, arms slung around his neck. He's the worst at comforting people; Draco's never been great with feelings, awkward at knowing what to do, what to say to put someone out of their misery. So he tries his best, very gently running a hand through her hair, and whispering words he guesses are soothing.
"It's okay, " he whispers, into her hair; Draco swears he can hear her heart beating, it's starting to slow down, "It's okay. You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you, "
She seems to relax, slowly, almost melting into him; he has no other way to describe what's happening. This isn't about you, Draco reminds himself, as he struggles to keep his body from reacting to the heat of her skin against his. She's so warm compared to him. It's like a thousand mini suns are trapped underneath her skin, burning her from the inside out. Trying to melt him in the hopes that she'll find answers.
He finds it sort of comforting.
She smells like jasmine, he realizes, after a while, as she shifts so she's no longer pressed directly against him. It's sweet, yet there's a sudden bitterness to it all at once. Draco hasn't been able to stop himself from noticing these little things about her, and it alarms him.
It's not like he has anything to feel guilty about, considering he doesn't have a girlfriend anymore. Pansy and him broke up after Blaise caught her in a broom cupboard with Theodore Nott, of all people. A screaming match, a few sweatshirts taken back, and boom! Hard part over. He's not really sad; Draco didn't really have any feelings for her in the first place. But Diana looks oddly triumphant at the fact that he's not dating her anymore.
He just hopes that it's her hatred for Pansy coming through and not her rooting for him and a certain Gryffindor together. Because it's not going to happen. Sure he's . . . . . noticed Maya Rajesh in some ways, but that doesn't mean Draco wants her as a girlfriend. Their relationship is already too complicated and trauma laden for him to be able to make eye contact with her without feeling like he's being x-rayed.
"Were you having a nightmare?" he finally asks, as she sits back against the cushions, her feet tucked beneath her bare legs. She doesn't look at him, playing with a stray thread hanging from her dress, hands folded in her lap.
"Yeah . . . " replies Maya Rajesh, her voice hoarse and sore. Her eyes are rimmed red when she finally looks up at him, "How'd you find me?"
"Um - " Draco clears his throat (Why is his mouth suddenly so dry?), "I left a book in here, the other day, and I didn't expect you to be here. Everything was floating around you, you were screaming . . . thrashing in your sleep, "
She tries to look away again, but he stops her by grabbing her hand just in time. Maya Rajesh looks surprised, and Draco tries to pull away, thinking he's made her uncomfortable. But instead, she laces her fingers with his, keeping him there.
"I lost control . . . " she mutters, "It doesn't happen often, I'm sorry,- "
"You don't have to apologize, " he stops her. She seems more stable now, if the steadiness of her own hands are telling him anything.
Before Draco can stop himself, the words escape his lips.
"Was it about the tournament?" he question. Her eyes immediately go wide, and she freezes, before seemingly coming to a standstill, her muscles still clenched. She looks like a deer caught in headlights.
His answer is right there.
In that moment, Draco swears he's never hated himself more. She looks so lost, in front of him, like someone's tried to put out a light inside her. Like he's just taken everything from her, and thrown the remnants in her face. His stomach twists violently in his abdomen, and it's then that Draco realizes that he needs to tell her the truth. About everything.
The things that she didn't hear in the graveyard.
"Why'd you do it?" Maya whispers, so quietly that he almost misses it, "Why did you sell me out in the first place?"
"I'm sorry, " he pleads, looking her directly in the eyes; She stares at him, shocked, her hand frozen in his, "I'm so sorry. I was so fucking stupid. I've ruined so much of this for you -- I've ruined your life. You didn't deserve to be sent to hell, no matter how much we hated each other. I didn't have any other options, " Draco pleads still looking into her eyes, "Belial -- he made a deal with the dark lord. You, in exchange for a thousand wraith demons to join ranks with the death eaters. If I said no . . . he'd kill my entire family, my friends, everyone I knew. I was scared. I didn't know what to do . . . . it seemed easier to barter your life than to lose my mother's, "
Maya Rajesh stares at him with horror, her face is practically white, but she still hasn't taken her hand away from his.
"But I didn't realize - " Draco chokes, forcing the flood of emotion down his throat, "I didn't realize what he was going to do with you. I thought he'd take you and that'd be it. I didn't know that he was going to sell your soul . . . possess your body . . . I didn't think of the consequences. I didn't realize we'd . . . . connect. And by the time I knew what I had done, it was too late. I couldn't go back. I was scared, and angry, and a coward, " It feels like a weight is lifting off of his chest, "And I know that isn't an excuse -- but I deeply regret what happened. I wish I could go back and fix it but we both know that isn't possible. I don't expect you to forgive me. Now or . . . ever. I'm so, so, sorry, Maya. You never did anything to me. You deserved so much better, and I took that away from you with one single, stupid decision. I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for it., "
It feels like Maya's entire world has been shattered.
She looks at him -- and the universe seems to split into two. There's Malfoy, the wizard she hates, the bigoted, prejudiced pureblood who's okay with pushing everyone else down if it means he gets to be on top. And then, there's Draco, the vulnerable boy in front of her, who was manipulated by everyone he knew around him to do something he wasn't ready for or knew the consequences of.
Everything has changed. She's never going to be able to look at him the same way again.
He runs away before she has a chance to respond.
so there it is, the grand reveal y'all have been waiting for. i honestly hate how i wrote this because it doesn't really feel that authentic to me? but i hoped i captured the catharsis of the moment properly. i also want to add that sexual harrassment is never, ever okay. it is a violation of someone's basic rights, taking away their consent and forcing them into a state of sexualisation that they never asked for. sadly, maya's situation is not an anomaly. as someone who's experienced similar events, i can safely say that my life and trust in the world around me was impacted afterward. i can also say that i do not know a single person (both irl and online) who has not been sexually harrassed/violated in some way or the other. this issue does not just affect women, it affects men, children, transgender individuals, members of the nonbinary community, people with disabilities and many, MANY more. and in 2022, it's fucking sickening to me that sexual harrassment and assault still continue to happen. even after we've supposedly "progressed" as a society.
if you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted or is/has suffered in a similar manner, please check out this list of international hotlines and resources. my pms are always open if you ever need to talk <3
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 33: Chapter 33
Chapter Text
MAJOR TW: mental breakdown, self-destructive/self-loathing thoughts, borderline self-harm. mentions of suicidal thoughts, slut shaming. do not read if you are triggered by any of this.
December 2015
"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer" Maya mutters, scowling as she reads out the message on the shirt.
"I kind of like it, " Isabelle reaches out, fingering the hem of the black crop top, all scalloped and trendy in typical H&M fashion. It's not the style that irks her (in fact, Maya owns quite a few black crop tops herself), it's the letters embedded on top. It feels like they're taunting her with their cruel irony.
In parallel to her life, it feels like the shirt is telling her that she can't do either of those things right.
It's a stupid notion; how can a bloody graphic tee offend someone? They're the most harmless thing to exist, just a fun thing to wear over a pair of skinny jeans or a basic skirt. But the more Maya stares at it, the more rage she feels. Her nails dig into her palms as her fists clench in the pockets of Arjun's old hoodie. All the air suddenly seems squeezed from her lungs; when she inhales, nothing happens. Maya shakily exhales whatever air she has remaining, an invisible noose wrapping around her neck, tighter, tighter, tighter, tighter-
"Maya?"
The whole world stops.
"W-what?" Maya tries to pay attention to her friend's words, but Isabelle's voice seems to float off into the distance as the madness inside her head continues. Maybe there is something wrong with her . . . may be, there always has been. She's always had this empty feeling in the middle of her chest, long, long before she came to Hogwarts. It's like something had ripped a raw hole in her soul, dripping acid on the edges of the wound to prevent it from healing. A dark spot created by the malevolent magic that supposedly makes her "powerful".
Magic that she barely knows how to use.
Who is she, really, nowadays? Maya doesn't feel like the bright-eyed, hopeful eight-year-old who loved her mom to death and danced until her legs went numb from exhaustion. She's not the naive, studious fourteen-year-old who got sorted into Gryffindor, determined to succeed and prove everyone wrong. She's not the model student her report cards claim, the "good Indian girl" that the aunties in their community wish she was, the dynamic warlock Magnus believes in, the shapeshifter that Tessa took under her wing.
She feels like she's become nothing. Hollow. It's like every positive thought in her head has been shut off, smoothed over by a cold, malevolent feeling that never seems to go away no matter what she tries. It's always there, frozen stalactites hanging from the roof of her cranium, dripping poison through all the cracks and crevices that make up the fleshy muscle called her brain. There's a voice in the back of her head, always taunting, jeering, making her second guess everything she knows, everything she thought was true . . .
" . . . yeah, yeah, " she finally manages to stammer out, Isabelle fixing her with a quizzical look, " I'm fine with going to Cinnabon before we leave, "
"You all right?" the young Shadowhunter asks, scrutinizing her with concern, "You look a little . . . nervous, "
Maya realizes how fast her heart rate is and immediately panics, "I'm fine, " she replies, lying through her teeth, "Just a little jet lagged, "
A cold and clammy feeling comes over her skin again as Isabelle takes her hand in his, dragging her out of H&M and towards the cinnamon roll cart. She's saying something, but it seems to echo around Maya, who pulls her hoodie tighter around herself like a safety blanket. A strangle tingle spreads up her fine, and suddenly, Maya realizes that her hands are shaking. Her teeth chatter from what feels like fear as Isabelle places the order, squeezing her hand as she eyes her friend with a tinge of worry.
"Are you cold or something?" Isabelle asks, taking off her leather jacket and draping it over Maya, "You're shivering like hell, "
The added layering does nothing to calm the chill that seems to increase by infinity inside Maya's bones. She huddles closer to Izzy in search of comfort, but even the taller girl's arm around her does nothing more than increase how suffocated she suddenly feels. Her stomach violently turns, and Maya has the urge to throw up as Izzy hands her a cinnamon roll, the sweet, yeasty smell scrambling her insides in an entirely unsettling way. She takes a shaky ship of the hot chocolate, and gags, the once-sweet cinnamon-y drink tasting like ash in her mouth.
"Hey - can we - can we take a rain check on this today?" Maya asks, looking up at Izzy with the calmest expression on her face, "I don't really feel well, "
"Your temperature is fine, " Izzy replies, frowning, her small, smooth hand checking the heat of the skin on Maya’s forehead and cheeks, “But you look really pale – how about I walk you to Magnus’s?” His apartment is barely four blocks away.
“Sure – that – that’d be great, “ Maya doesn’t know why she’s stuttering so much; maybe it has something to do with the fact that her chest wants to explode in fear.
“You’re awfully nervous today, “ mutters the Shadowhunter, as they walk out together, “You don’t really seem like yourself . . . “
“Yourself”. Taunts her mind, even as Maya tries to shut the nasty little voice out, Don’t even know what that means anymore, do you? Who are you, without your sanity?
Maybe . . . maybe she’s actually gone insane. Mad. A lost cause, a basket case . . . maybe, Maya is exactly what the newspapers say she is. An attention-seeking, power-hungry, manipulative freak of nature.
One who deserves to rot in hell alongside her wretched father.
“Well, would you look at what the cat dragged in?”
The voice sends a horrible chill down Maya’s spine; she freezes, locking herself in place, dragging her best friend with her.
No.
No.
It can’t be him. He can’t be here right now.
Her heart wails in panic. Maya feels like she wants to scream in horror, burst in tears all at once. She’s visibly panicking right now, feeling too hot and too cold all at once. Izzy’s saying something, but Maya suddenly can’t hear her, her voice blurring out into the distance like a forgotten echo.
As she tugs at Izzy’s arm, taking a shaky step forward, he whizzes right in front of her – so fast that Maya stumbles and directly falls back into Izzy’s arms.
Fuck.
Fuck – fuck – fuck – fuck – fuck –
Alarm bells shriek in her head, red and blue sirens going off everywhere. Maya bites her tongue so hard she tastes blood. She can’t move. She can’t breathe. She can’t do anything except stand there and stare.
Because there he is. Her worst nightmare, standing right in front of her. Cameron Butler still looks the same after all these years. Same sandy brown hair, intentionally fluffed up on top and short on the sides. Same lean, tall figure – though Isabelle and him are about the same height now, which only makes the urge to hide behind her worsen. Same blue polo shirt that probably costs more than Nandini’s monthly salary. Same flinty, malevolent looking eyes. His grin is crooked, taunting, almost, as he stares down at her, his eyes roving over the curves of her body in a way that makes her want to vomit onto the grey concrete.
“How’re you doin’, Maya?” He questions, a bit of his Southern accent coming through as he steps closer to her; Maya backs away as fast as she can, Izzy’s arm around her shoulder stopping her from going any further, “Long time no see, “
“What – “ Maya sputters, barely to form words, “What the fuck do you want from me?”
“Ooh, feisty, “ his grin spreads wider, like a cat catching it’s prey, “I don’t remember you being like this in grade school. Your eyes are still the same, you know, “
He reaches out to touch her, but Isabelle immediately slaps his hand away, a furious look in her cocoa eyes.
“Don’t you dare touch her, you bastard, “ she snarls, stepping in between them, “I don’t know who the hell you are, but stay the fuck away from her, “
“Oh?” his face falls into a comical state of surprise, “She never told you, did she?”
No. No. Isabelle – her best friend, her platonic wife, her saviour – she can never know. She can’t know what forced Maya to drop out at the end of the year. What kept her head down in the halls, voice quieted in lessons, the contents of the notes left in her locker by his admirers.
“You’re a slut, “
“You have no respect for yourself, “
“Filthy whore, “
“Girls like you don’t deserve to be here, “
“If it concerned you, “ Isabelle spits, venomously, tongue dripping with acid, “Then I’m sure it wasn’t of any importance, “
“Man, I still remember that day . . . “ Cameron drawls off, as though he’s reminiscing on something; Maya’s voice feels caught in her throat, “You in your little sah-ree . . . “
No. no no no no no-
She’s hyperventilating – Izzy can clearly see it, Cameron is aware of it, smirking as he continues on with his words. Her body feels like it’s stuck in time, floating off into space as her mind struggles to stay grounded.
Maya wants to die. Not the embarrassed kind, where you just want to sink into the ground and stay there forever. But the permanent kind. She scans the street around them nervously, hoping, wishing, that maybe, one of the cars will skid in the snow and slam her body into the concrete wall-
“We had so much fun in that locker room, don’t you think?”
Something snaps inside her. Maya sees crimson.
In an instant, Cameron is slammed against the wall, choking, grasping weakly at his throat. Magic sears from Maya’s fingertips, as rage fills her body, black flames wrapped around his neck like a noose. She wants to kill him, Maya realizes, something twisting unpleasantly in her stomach. Incinerate him off the face of the earth, burn his body to ashes and throw them in the Hudson river.
“Maya – no!!” Isabelle screams, horrified, her voice seems far off into the distance. Cameron coughs and sputters for air.
“You want to know what it feels like, Cameron?!” she growls, her hold tightening around his neck, “To be violated?! To feel like a stranger inside your own fucking skin?! To have people stare at you in the halls, wondering who the hell you are, who the fuck put his hands on you?! HUH?! DO YOU KNOW WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE, YOU SON OF A BITCH?!”
“MAYA!!” screams Isabelle, tugging her backward; she can feel black, ugly tears streaming down her face, destroying her appearance even more, "Don't do this, this isn't you-"
"I hope you suffer, " she hisses, coming in close to his face; He looks terrified of her, eyes glassy and wide, "I hope your mother rolls in her grave at the way her son turned out. I hope you die the most painful death possible. Because guess what, asshole? I'm going to be here to witness all of it. I'll laugh at your corpse, and spit on your fucking grave, "
Isabelle drags her by the hair the same time that her magic releases him. The black shadows are drawn back into her fingertips as Cameron collapses to the ground, holding his neck as he wheezes, eyes burning directly at her.
"You'll pay for this, you crazy bitch!!" he screams, before running down the alleyway and out of sights.
Maybe she is actually insane. Maybe she always has been.
"What is wrong with you?!" Izzy screams, shaking Maya by the shoulders as she turns them around to face each other, "Do you have any idea how many Mundanes saw us?! Saw your magic?! You could have killed him-"
"It -- made me- , " Maya chokes out; the world is spinning around her; She realizes that she's breaking down into sobs, crying freely now, "My magic -- it made me want to kill him, "
Izzy's face softens, she looks shell-shocked, "Maya-"
Maya bolts, sprinting away from her best friend calling out for her. Her lungs burn, fingertips sizzle, eyes stream, but she doesn't stop running. Not until her bones feel like they're going to crumble. Not until she reaches Magnus's apartment in Greenpoint.
He opens the door the fourth time Maya pounds her fists on it, "What-" he stops dead as soon as he sees Maya, eyes widening to the size of saucers as he takes in her disheveled, maddening appearance, "Muffin, what the hell-"
Maya doesn't give him time to finish, bolting past him and running through the house, to the very back room, where she's staying for the holidays. She slams the door shut, shoving in the deadbolt as Magnus runs after her, calling her name. Maya ignores his shouts as she breaks down, sobbing, sliding down the wall as her hands cover her mouth.
Done. Ruined. Everything has gone up in flames.
Maya lets out a blood-curdling scream, tears streaming down her face as she heaves on the floor. Everything goes silent and still around her, a ringing in her ears.
And there's no one to blame but her.
She passes out on the floor of the guest bedroom.
Death feels like a solitary embrace until she stirs once more, in the late hours of the night.
Someone's moved her onto the bed, Maya realizes, her limbs aching as she stretches out on pale blue sheets. The navy blue sky is sprinkled with little stars outside, the skyscrapers and buildings standing tall alongside the New York landscape. There's a horrible ache in her head as Maya groans, vision slightly blurry at the edges when she finally opens her eyes fully.
She feels sick with herself.
Maya stays like that for a long time, curled up under the covers in a fetal position. She runs over the events of the day in her head with a cold, resounding sense of dread.
Deep down, a part of her refuses to feel guilty for what she did to Cameron. The rush of raw, searing magic in her veins . . . nothing had satisfied her more than his wide, terrified eyes. The tables were turned; she no longer feels like the powerless one anymore.
Maya banishes the thought from her head as soon as it occurs.
Her mind has always been regarded as her greatest asset. Tessa called her "gifted" from a young age, blessed with a certain sort of maturity that no one else her age possessed. Constance Billiard placed her in the advanced program along with a few other kids, her teachers singing praises to Nandini about how she was always the first to raise her hand in class. Maya used to create entirely new stories and worlds in the ivory-and-porcelain walls of her skull, pouring out her emotions onto paper that was stored and hidden from the rest of the world inside the hard drive of her mother's computer.
But at the same time, Maya's mind turns out to be her greatest weakness. Sometimes, her thoughts are too much to handle, feeling like a noose slowly tightening around her neck. Chaotic, violent, almost in how fast they escalate into the worst possible outcome. They spiral and spiral and spiral until she's a mess on the floor, writhing in agony and torment. She has permanent, half-moon shaped scars on her palms, digging her nails in so hard that sometimes, they stain the tender flesh with red. It's sadistic, almost, how easily Maya can find hurting herself normal. The pain grounds her, gives her a respite from the vicious voices in her head whose end goal is to shatter her into millions of tiny, breakable pieces. Sometimes, it even helps her focus.
There's nothing healthy about the way she lives, Maya's known that for a long, long time. All these years, she's been balancing herself on a tightrope. Her bare feet carefully stretching over the thin rope. No matter how much stability Nandini has tried to provide, no matter how much her teachers talk about how "bright" she supposedly is, no matter how much Diana tries to reassure her that really, everything's going to be alright, it feels like her entire existence could fall apart in a millisecond. One wrong move, and everything she's worked for, everything she thought she was will be gone.
Maya tries to stay still, balancing herself as much as she can, between two calamitous worlds that she didn't ask to be part of in the first place. She drives herself to succeed, caffeine in her veins, her fingers scribbling on parchment. She laughs with people she's supposed to feel close to, keeps quiet in uncomfortable situation, quiets down the blood that always seems to be pounding inside her veins. She paints on a careful mask, back straight, shoulders squared, not one strand of hair out of place. An aspirational ideal, who she's supposed to be.
Who Maya wanted to be back when she could make sense out of what went on inside her own head.
Is this rock bottom? Has she finally reached the end of the bloody barrel, scraping at the bottom for that last, lovely morsel of hope? Maya stares at the popcorn ceiling above her with a kind of finality in her heart. It doesn't feel as bad as she thought it would. Her skin is sticky with sweat, mascara smeared underneath her eyes, hair tangled and matted. She looks feral, like someone threw her to the wolves. Absolutely demented. Manic.
But oddly, Maya has never felt more grounded.
If she wanted to go, now would be the perfect time, Maya thinks to herself, with a sort of soft, cruel triumphance. Everything's quiet around her. A lake with still, unmoving waters. She imagines herself floating at the bottom, eyes closed, heart still in her chest. Braiding her hair with seaweed, living amongst the mermaids with shell-bead necklaces and iridescent scales covering her legs. The thought of death right now isn't . . . . scary.
In fact, it's rather welcoming.
Something stabs in her chest, as she looks out the window, at the pretty, moving lights that decorate New York's nights. Maya remembers the times the Lightwoods and her would come back from days spent at Cherry Grove Beach, the windows down as Nandini drove them through the city. She remembers Jace's arm around her as she leaned against the window, staring out onto the endless landscape of the city that never slept. Soft music playing on the radio, the hum of the ancient jeep beneath her feet, an empty canister of cherry slushie lodged in the cup holder, the sweet taste still lingering on her tongue. The breeze whipping her hair through the window, her rainbow bathing suit bottoms hidden beneath a loose pair of pants. Feeling tired but still achingly, jubilantly alive as she tumbled back onto her black-and-turquoise bedspread back at home.
Suddenly, Maya feels homesick in a way that she never expected.
The door opens, and reality comes rushing back.
Maya jumps, body curling up against the headboard as Nandini throws it open. Her mother's coffee-brown hair is wild around her face, clothes haphazardly thrown on. Something twists in her stomach as they stare at each other. Maya suddenly feels ashamed, tears pooling in her eyes. Vulnerable in a way that makes her feel so, incredibly small.
But in fact, the older woman doesn't berate her. No, Nandini simply rushes forward and scoops her daughter's fragile body in a bone-crushing hug. She's crying, Maya realizes, guilt pooling in her stomach, tear tracks falling through the grime etched onto her face. Nandini holds her like there's no tomorrow, until she feels as though her ribs are about to burst from the pressure. But oddly, it isn't suffocating whatsoever.
The hug feels exactly like home.
Maya suddenly feels a shock go through her entire body, her vision blurry with tears as Nandini lets her go, cupping her face in both hands as she murmurs tearful apology.
How could she leave someone who's sacrificed so much for her?
"I'm so sorry, " she cries, looking as though she's simmering in anguish, "I've ruined your entire life. I never wanted to lie to you, my love. I wish we could've done things differently. You don't deserve any of what happened to you. That monster is nothing like the girl I see in front of me right now-, " Maya hiccups, as Nandini kisses her forehead, carefully wiping her daughter's tears away, "You know that I've always wanted you to have a normal childhood. I thought I was protecting you by not telling you the truth. But I didn't realize that I was only making you easy prey instead. I doubted your strength, and I deeply regret that, "
"Mom, it's okay-" Maya forces out the words, Nandini's figure still blurred by a veil of tears, "You-" She hiccups, "You don't have to apolo-"
"No, I do, " There's a determined look in her mother's eyes, one that makes Maya feel slightly powerful as the older woman fixates her gaze on her daughter, "I've let too many things slide until now. You deserved better than how I treated you, and I'm so sorry for that, "
It's like someone's shot golden glitter inside her chest, the darkness that hangs around her heart starts to dissapate.
"Can we agree on something?" Nandini asks, as Maya frowns at her, "No more of this. No more secrets, "
If this is rock bottom, then maybe . . . just maybe . . . . there's nowhere to go but up.
"No more secrets" Maya confirms, tears glimmering in her eyes.
She doesn't feel so heavy anymore.
what maya went through in this chapter is very similar to a breakdown i had earlier last year. it gave me flashbacks of things i'd rather forget and forced me to reassess my priorities. do not bottle up your feelings, it's incredibly unhealthy and can actually cause health problems if done over a period of time. anyway, i'm doing this on a friday morning before school starts, so i have to start getting ready now or else i'll be late <3
- love y'all and be safe
disha
Chapter 34: Chapter 34
Chapter Text
A FEW DAYS INTO WINTER BREAK . . . .
PTSD and high-functioning anxiety.
It's scary, seeing those words on paper. It should be scary, in fact. But oddly, Maya feels nothing. She supposes that's the numbness of it all. Whatever hellfire was scorching through her veins earlier has been chilled to ice. Almost like the flames have burned themselves out.
So, she's mentally ill.
That's fun.
To be fair, she doesn't feel as . . . crazy . . as she did a few days ago. There's a new understanding between Maya and her mother. Gone are the days where they tiptoed around each other, waiting for something to snap the tension. Nandini knows everything. No really, everything. Maya's told her about the hate mail, the D.A., every little childhood secret she's kept tucked away in her mind until now.
Except those involving a certain blonde-haired, grey-eyed boy.
Manipulation is a powerful tactic, Maya knows this well. It's the art of subtlety, of quietly toying with someone's emotions. Pulling at their little puppet strings until you see cracks appear in their exterior. Pushing, prodding and poking until finally, they're right where you want them to be. She's been in that situation more than once, decieved under false promises and empty words. Helpless, like a fly caught in an intricate spiderweb.
He could be lying, her brain taunts, Why would Draco Malfoy, of all people, want to prove himself to you?
Even in her temporarily frazzled state, Maya notes -- eyeing her frizzy curls and sickly green cardigan with a degree of immense distaste -- there's no way anyone could fake that kind of genuinity. Even the most experienced mythomaniac wouldn't have been able to replicate the tone of his voice. He didn't look like the silver-spooned aristocrat she knew, arrogant and determined to get his way. Draco had looked almost . . . . broken. Tired. Used. His shirt scruffled and hair mussed, the words had seemed to escape him faster than he could think. Like steam rising into the air after you've lifted the cover of a pot.
"Do you want a slice of cake?"
Jeremiah Carstairs is pouring out mugs of cinnamon scented tea, the swirling liquid near the color of his dark brown eyes. He looks no older than twenty-five or so, though Maya's sure that's due to the anti-aging effect that being a silent brother apparently gives you. Oddly, he doesn't dress like an immortal, not adopting the flashy suits and golden ties that Magnus adorns himself with. Not like a silent brother, either, Maya notes, studying his vintage-looking ripped jeans and white t-shirt. In fact, you wouldn't really guess that Jem was actually a silent brother, judging by the way he holds himself. Carefree, warm, he's like sunshine rippling on a lake in summertime. The kind of nostalgia you miss as you grow older.
He's also Mina's father.
Whether that's a conflict of interest or not, Maya doesn't know, but what she does know is that a slice of cake sounds very nice right now. She accepts the plate with slightly shaking hands, digging in gingerly with a fork. It's deliciously warm and chocolatey, almost melting in her mouth as she takes a nice swig of tea with it. Jem happily digs in with gusto, the peaceful sounds of plates clattering with forks filling the room for the next few moments.
"So?" Jem says, calmly leaning back in his seat as Maya swirls around the last dregs of her tea, feeling somewhat relaxed "How's life?"
The liquid moving in her cup suddenly feels exactly like the dread pooling in her stomach.
Of course he was trying to pull this out of her.
But unlike before, Maya doesn't let her sickly feelings consume her. "Talk about your feelings, beta" Nandini had said, last night, stroking her daughter's hair as Maya lay her head in the older woman's lap, "You'll save yourself and others a lot of trouble if you just speak up for yourself, "
Maya pushes the dread down, and tries to force the words out of her mouth.
"Not great"
Jeremiah Carstairs jots something down on his notepad, then looks back up at her, his dark amber eyes rapt with attention.
"Well . . . " he starts off, slightly unsure, "It's good that you're being honest. Your psychological evaluation showed a clear indication of high-functioning anxiety. Do you think you could tell me why that is?"
"I . . ., " Maya starts, her mind losing track in its train of thought, "I don't know. It's hard to explain, I guess, "
Where does she even start?
Jem sighs, apparently deciding to abandon his professional pretense. He tentatively reaches for Maya's hand, who offers it. She's shaking again, Maya realizes, with embarrassment, slight tremors wracking through her fingers. There's something about his touch that's comforting in a way she never realized before; his palm is warm and surprisingly steady in hers.
"Look at me, Maya, " he says, quietly, in a kind voice, commanding her attention "I understand that dealing with these feelings can't possibly be easy for you. You're probably scared, lost . . . confused. Mental health isn't something that's often talked about, especially in the Asian community. I myself have had to deal with the stigma that comes attached to these illnesses. But I don't want you to go through what I did, so here's what I want you to know, "
"What?" Maya whispers, hating how quiet and small her voice sounds.
Jem takes a deep breath before continuing, "You are not crazy. Trust me, I know how isolating it can feel to constantly have intrusive thoughts running through your mind. But just because no one talks about it doesn't mean that it doesn't exist. You are not alone in this battle, Maya. You are not weak for having these feelings in the first place. In fact, it's a miracle that you've managed to stay strong all this while, considering you've almost been to hell and back -- quite literally may I add, "
Maya manages to crack a small smile at his words, but still feels the heaviness weighing down upon her.
"I know it's scary, trying to navigate a situation like this. I can't imagine what you're going through right now. But I can't help you get better if you don't tell me what's going on. There is a future at the end of the road, I promise. Light at the end of the tunnel. I can help you get there, but it's your job to draw out the path. Nothing you say will leave this room unless you want it to., "
Maya takes a deep breath. Her heart is pounding with so many emotions; fear, trepidation, relief . . . . hope. She's scared, yet excited all at once.
Is it possible?
Can this dark cloud hanging over her really pass?
"So . . . . are you ready to talk?"
Maya straightens her spine, steels herself, and looks Jem directly in the eye.
"I'm ready, "
Therapy helps.
Of course, her meds are also making the situation better. Jem prescribed her propranolol as a precautionary measure, to alleviate the constant heart palpitations and cold sweats that used to wake her up in the middle of the night. Maya sleeps soundly for the first time in what feels like years, feeling almost spiritually cleansed as she wakes up the few next mornings.
It's not like the feelings have completely gone away. No amount of beta-blockers and sleeping in will suddenly banish her dark state of mind. But talking through it and having guidance seems to help. Maya can now recognize the habits of negative thinking and self-sabotage that led to her "breakdown" as Jem calls it.
"It seems to me, that you have a tendency to push down your emotions, " he'd said, looking at her inquisitively, "Can you tell me why that happens?"
"I guess . . . " Maya starts out, slowly, mulling it over in her head as Jem patiently waits for her answer, "I guess I just don't want to deal with them, "
"Are you afraid of them, or do you find them annoying?"
"Both . . I think . . " Maya replies, trying to get the gist of what he's saying.
"Remember that I won't judge you for whatever you choose to answer, Maya, " replies Jem, in a kind tone, "This is a safe space for you to say whatever you wish, "
Maya exhales, slowly, steeling herself as the words start to pour out of her.
"I don't know . . . I guess I just find emotions . . messy, you know? There's so much of them, it's like they're more . . . me . . . then I am. I can handle them, most days but sometimes . . . it's all just too much. It's like an explosion . . one wrong move and I set off a bomb inside myself. It scares me, how much control I've given up, what I can do if they win the battle . . . I don't know. I guess I just don't really like my feelings. I'd prefer to operate on logic alone if I'm being honest, "
"That" Jem points his pencil at her after scribbling a few words down onto his notepad, "That right there is the problem. You view your feelings as an enemy rather than an ally, "
"It's hard not to, " says Maya, softly.
"Why don't you talk about them more?" he asks, kindly.
"Am I not doing that right now?"
"I meant with someone who's not me, Maya, " he sounds visibly exasperated, "I'm sure you have some people in your life who'd be willing to listen. Your mother, Magnus, the Lightwood siblings, that blonde friend of yours that you were telling me about . . . ."
"Diana, " Maya corrects him, surprised.
"Yes, her, " Jem says, nonchalantly, "Why don't you let them know?"
"Because . . , " Maya sighs, slightly frustrated, "I don't want them to feel sorry for me. They already have problems of their own. Why would I want to add to that?"
"I completely understand where you're coming from, " Jem replies, smoothly, "It's common to not want to burden others with your worries. But if these people really care about you -- which I'm sure they do, based on what you've told me -- then I'm sure they'll find the time to listen, "
Maya snaps out of her little flashback as an auto speeds past her on the streets of Rajiv Chowk, an up and coming suburb in the grand old capital of the motherland -- New Delhi. After numerous discussions and assurances to see if she's mentally ready enough to socialise, Nandini has finally decided to take her to see her two long-lost aunts: Arya Desai, Arjun's closest cousin, and her wife, Shivani Malhotra.
Heterosexuality is definitely not one of the prominent genes in her dad's side of the family.
"Isn't gay marriage still illegal here?" Maya whispers, as they climb up the stairs to the couple's loft. Nandini shoots her a warning look.
"Don't say those things in public, " she hisses, "Everyone thinks they're roommates-"
"With four cats together?"
"-We're not going to expose them, are we clear, Maya?"
"Yes, mom, " Maya rolls her eyes, "Even if they have their own feline children, "
"Elsa -- ELSA, ANDHAR JAO!!" A shrill voice shrieks from upstairs, "Arya, jaan, please bring her back inside, won't you?"
"Why do I have to do it?" A grumpy voice floats out from behind the bamboo curtains, "You were the one that scared the poor cat away-"
"Yeah, because I was yelling at you-"
"For an entirely stupid reason-"
"Your sneezing terrified the poor thing!"
"MAYBE BECAUSE I'M ALLERGIC TO CATS?!"
"Sure, like I didn't see you curled up with Kristoff two nights ago-"
"Kristoff is a sphynx-"
"Ahem-" Nandini clears her throat loudly, as she knocks on the door, "Are you two done? The entire apartment building can hear you!"
There's an awkward silence for a few moments (during which Maya resists the urge to laugh), then a small pattering of feet to the front door. It unlocks, and therein stands Shivani (Maya hopes she's not confusing them). The older woman is barely taller than Maya herself, standing at about 5'4, and her hair falls to her waist in a neat, unfussy braid. She's not without beauty though; Shivani Malhotra has finely carved features offset by her golden brown skin, complete with high cheekbones, full lips, and unusually-colored violet eyes, which seem to sparkle as they gaze at her niece.
"Erm . . . . hi . . " she says, with a nervous laugh, "Sorry you had to witness that . . . we were just having a little argument . . . "
"Little?!" comes an incredulous answer from inside, Maya sees the tall silhouette of who she presumes is Arya get up and open the curtains, "This woman--"
"Elsa!!" Shivani squeals, happily, as a fluffy white cat with blue eyes leaps into her arms, "Oh you silly girl . . say hi to Maya!"
The cat seems to vaguely recognize her, purring in acknowledgment as it rubs it's face against Shivani's saffron sundress. Arya jogs up behind her, and Maya is once again envious of the height genes that seem to be abundant in her dad's side of the family.
She's a little taller than Nandini, who herself is 5'9, with a slim, athletic figure and cropped dark brown hair that falls to her shoulders in a grown-out bob. Her skin is fairer than Shivani's or Maya's, having more of a wheatish tone than Maya's burnt sienna or Shivani's deep tan. Arya's features are more sleek and cat-like than her wife's, who looks as though she would've been on a poster displaying classical Indian beauty.
But it's not as though Arya herself isn't pretty; she's just attractive in a different way than Shivani is. With her casual elegance (in figure-hugging grey slacks with an oversized white button down that's ruched and tied up at the waist), poised posture and the carefree vibe that seems to just ooze from her, Arya reminds Maya of one of those 90s cover models whose outfits her mother had tried oh-so-hard to replicate during her ephemeral youth. The taller woman looks at her with something akin to wonder, fiddling with one of the numerous gold piercings that adorn her ears.
"Come here, you little munchkin!" Arya demands, wrapping her niece in a bear hug, Shivani joining in immediately after. Maya laughs, in surprise, hugging her aunts just as tightly back. Nandini chuckles from the doorway.
In actuality, Maya barely has any memory of these women. There's a comfortable familiarity in the way Arya and Shivani's arms wrap around her. According to Nandini, these two practically raised her when her and Arjun were out working, but unfortunately, they lost contact due to Maya and Nandini migrating to New York. She's barely seen them since her early childhood but somehow, Maya knows that these are people she can trust.
They're the closest thing to Arjun she'll ever have.
"You were barely up to my hip the last time I saw you, " mutters Shivani, with a rueful grin, ruffling her niece's hair, "I can't believe you've grown so much . . . "
"I wish, " Maya mutters, "I've grown an inch in the past year. I think Arya chithi stole all the height genes, "
"Guilty as charged -- ow!!" Arya exclaims, as Shivani elbows her in the ribs, "What? Jealous that you're the size of a mushroom?"
"Hey!" Maya interjects, defensively, "She's not even that short, almost my height!"
"Maya . . . dear . . . " Arya starts, hesitantly, "That's not a good example . . . "
"You think everyone's short because you're a human tree, " Shivani huffs, grumpily.
"Besides, what short people lack in height, they make up for in brainpower, " Maya states, as Shivani fist bumps her in triumph, "I'll have you know that I have a 4.0!"
"Almost the top of her class, " Nandini adds, with pride, as they step into the sunlit apartment
"Nice!!" replies Arya, impressed as they high-five, grabbing the remote from the counter and switching on the flat screen TV, "But you'll always be the toddler who painted the walls with Shivani's Armani lip gloss to me . . ."
"Hey! That only happened once . . . "
The next hour goes by in a flurry of chatter and chai; Maya learns about the trials and tribulations of graduating med school (via Shivani) and the annoying-ass suspects Arya's been forced to bring in for her newest case as head auror of Delhi's 9th precinct.
"He's an absolute menace, " Arya mutters, angrily dipping a Parle-G biscuit into her tea, "Sala Kutta! Can't even button his own shirt properly yet gloats about running Vasant Vihar's biggest cocaine cartel-"
"He's 17, " Nandini interjects, "Why would you believe anything that comes out of his mouth?"
"A seventeen-year-old drug dealer?" Maya questions, draining the last of her chai, incredulously, "Sounds like a load of bullshit to me, "
"You'd be surprised at what the youth are getting up to nowadays, " Shivani comments, stirring the amber liquid in her cup, "Half the patients that come into Connaught General nowadays have injuries from those new hoverboards that Samsung recently released. It explodes, apparently, "
"Sometimes I wonder what we even fought for, " Nandini muses, looking off into the distance, "An entire war went by and yet we're still stuck with the identical prejudiced ideals that our parents passed down to us. The same screwed-up world, "
"Intergenerational trauma doesn't just go away, Nandini, " Arya sighs, softly, "If it did, I probably wouldn't even be where I am right now, "
"We made the sacrifices we did so that our kids would have a better tomorrow, " Nandini replies, glumly, "But all our efforts boiled down to nothing. Look at the state of the world around us; Voldemort's back and the press is denying it, the Shadow world is being turned upside down by demon attacks, the economy is screwed, college costs are higher than ever-"
"But how long can we blame ourselves for what happened?" Arya interjects, the conversation turning to a more serious tone, "We were just kids . . . we had no clue what to do, where to start. There was so much out of our control . . . there still is . . . not all of it is our fault, Nandini. We just need to do our best to beat the odds, "
"And that's what we're good at in this household!" Shivani interrupts, with fervor, "Look at us: Arya got expelled from three schools and now practically runs the South Delhi auror force! Nandini was a teenage runaway mother and now she's an NYU grad with a double major in Psychology and Criminal Law! Maya's the product of one of the biggest scandals in the Indian Pureblood community and yet she's one of the smartest students in her year, on her way to rock the world-"
"You forgot about yourself, " interrupts Arya, "Ex-assassin turned star cardiac surgeon, "
"Yeah, there's that too . . . I suppose, " Shivani adds, with a self-satisfied smirk on her face, "My point is, people tend to underestimate our strength as women. As people, even. But if we were able to kick ass in a world war and still lead successful, fulfilling lives . . . who's to say we won't be able to do it again?"
"Do you think we can seriously win this?" Nandini questions, somewhat disbelievingly, "For the second time in a row?"
Shivani smiles, a genuine, sweet, hopeful smile, "I know we will, "
She turns to look at Maya, "We have her on our side".
"Mom . . . "
"Keep going Maya, you're doing great!" Nandini cheers, as Maya awkwardly steers their ancient Jeep down the road. Tessa whoops from the backseat, hissing in pain as one of the springs jabs into her spine, "See? Driving isn't so hard, "
"This thing is going to fall apart at any moment, " mutters Tessa, struggling to find a comfortable position in the backseat, "By the Angel, is it really so hard to just sell this old thing and buy a new car?"
"Are you kidding?" Nandini scoffs, "The Cherokee has been with me for almost a decade. It's filled with memories, there's no way I'm going to sell it!"
"Half the things in here don't even work!" Maya complains, her hands slowly turning the wheel as they go around a curb. Nandini's made it her mission to teach Maya how to drive, insisting that she'll need to be independent if she wants to get a permit by her sixteenth birthday, "We can't even turn on the radio because there's a cassette tape stuck in there from the time the dinosaurs perished! "
"Eyes on the road, young lady!" Nandini barks, as Maya jumps, "I don't see why we have to replace it just yet. It's a very nice car, "
"Look . . . the Cherokee may have been fine in Rosedale, " Tessa tries to persuade, from the back, "The budget was tight back then, so it was understandable for you guys to stick with an older car. But you've got a pretty good salary now, Nandini -- you live in Manhattan for god's sake!"
"So?" her mother argues, fiddling with the dreamcatcher that's fallen off of it's place next to the mirror, "I'm not going to buy a new car just to fit in with our ritzy neighbors. That's preposterous!"
"But it doesn't even have to be anything expensive!" Tessa protests, "You could get an updated version of the Cherokee, maybe even invest in a Compass!"
"What, and lose 20k?"
"Even a Prius would be better than this horrible thing, Nandini! It doesn't even start properly!"
"That's why hot wiring exists!"
"Mom, please, " Maya begs, "I'm pretty sure the driving instructor would cackle at me if I showed up in this car, "
"I've heard the newest 4-series is pretty nice, " Tessa says, quietly, "Around 30k, but worth the money, amazing performance, safety features, latest technology and all that good stuff. You could even go for a Civic if you want to save some cash. . . "
"I don't know, Tess, " her mother sighs as Maya slows down, making yet another turn, "This car was the first big purchase I made without Arjun . . . it made me feel proud of myself. I sacrificed so much to get it, it just feels wrong to let it go . . . "
"Uh . . mom . . " Panic starts to rise in Maya's chest, as she struggles to turn left, the steering wheel refusing to bend underneath her grip, "I think something's wrong . . . "
"Keep going, sweetie, you're doing fine, " Nandini replies, distractedly, not even noticing the way Maya barely misses hitting the sidewalk. Cold sweat starts to form on her brow. What if she actually crashes?"
It'll be fine, Maya thinks to herself, taking a slow inhale, then an exhale in the same manner, Remember what Jem told you. Don't overthink this. It's just driving. You'll be completely fine-
She hears something snap beneath her.
In an instant, Maya is yanked forward, thrown in her seat. Tessa shrieks as Nandini yells in horror, panic overcoming the three of them in a tidal wave. She tries to brake, hard, but it's too late. Maya screams.
The jeep shoots forward -- and crashes into their brand new mailbox, running it clean over.
There's a few moments of horrified silence from the occupants of the car. Maya is frozen with horror. Guaranteed, her dad wasn't exactly known for his safety skills and Nandini can casually go fifty miles over the speed limit on any given day, but that's not a 100% chance of her inheriting their shitty driving skills, right? Right?!
Tessa finally speaks, breaking the silence.
"If you don't come with me to the Honda dealership tomorrow, I swear to Raziel that I will poison your coffee, Nandini, "
What a way to start the new year.
ahhhh and i updated again! honestly this chap was a little harder to write because it's lighter compared to the shit ton of darkness we've had so far. thank you so much to alina for letting me use her oc shivani malhotra in my book, we've planned a seperate story for shivarya together but haven't had the time to start on it yet. anygays, it's half and hour past midnight, and my mom's birthday tomorrow so i desperately need sleep. good night and stay safe y'all
- xoxo,
disha
Chapter 35: Chapter 35
Chapter Text
i don't usually do song recs but for this chapter i highly, highly, recommend listening to strangers by halsey!! it fits the mood perfectly.
𝕵𝖆𝖓𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖞 2016
DIANA IS CURRENTLY VERY ANGRY AT HERSELF.
It was a hard decision, convincing Narcissa to let her spend the break with the Lovegoods, of all people. Blood traitors, that's what she calls them, self-serving scum. Her relationship with her mother is akin to brittle bones. The woman was already furious enough about her cotton-candy hair when she came to pick her up at King's Cross, rambling on about how she looked like a muggle, of all things. Why don't you just go and kill me already?! Narcissa had shrieked, almost tearing her own silvery-blonde hair out with the roots, I can't believe this . . . where did my little girl go?!
The little girl you dressed up like your own personal plaything?! Diana had screamed, inside her head, The little girl your husband dragged by the hair whenever she did anything wrong?! The little girl you tried to mold into what you wanted instead of caring about her well-being?! She died a long time ago, mom-
But instead, as usual, Diana had stayed silent. It felt better to stay silent down than let out the raging cacophony inside her head. Submission has been ingrained into her ever since she was a small child, taught to obey instead of question. But after all these years, keeping your head down gets a little tiring and Diana feels a deep sense of shame lying there, on Luna's bed, the soft sound of the fan above them echoing throughout the room.
Goddamnit, she should've said something.
"If you're going to solve puzzles in your head while I'm next to you, the least you could do is include me in them, "
The words make her blush and embarrassment settle in her stomach. Diana turns to face Luna, who's facing her whilst lying on her side. She looks beautiful -- more beautiful than Diana thought someone could ever look before. The pale blue silk of her pajamas suit her fair skin and make her protuberant eyes sparkle in a way that's making Diana's stomach flip over.
She suddenly feels inadequate in her oversized band tee that's stolen from her older brother (well he "lost" it and never bothered to realize that their clothes had been mixed up by the elves), looking like a ratty old Cleansweep next to a fancy Nimbus 2005, but the feelings go away as soon as Luna's hand reaches out and brushes a strand of hair away from her face, a jolt going down her spine at the contact.
"What're you even thinking about that's so important?" Luna questions, now back to lightly stroking her hair, "You seemed so far off, "
"I-I don't know, " Diana replies, bottom lip catching beneath her teeth, suddenly finding it very hard to concentrate, "Just about . . . . my mum. We had an argument before I came here and and I feel bad for ending things on a shitty note, "
"Do you want to talk about it?" asks Luna, her voice soft and serene. Something about it is very reassuring, Diana notes, as she allows herself to fall into a comfortable haze.
"Not really, " mutters Diana, "I don't really want to think about my family right now, "
"That's okay, " replies Luna, kindly, "But just know that if you do decide to say anything, I'm never going to judge you for it, "
"T-thanks Luna, " Diana stammers, feeling embarrassed at the sudden thought that flits through her head. The covers beneath her are so warm and soft, and with the warm weight of Luna pressed next to her, one can't help but think . . .
No. No it would be wayy too soon for Diana to even think about that. They're just friends, close friends, but Diana doesn't want to fuck up whatever relationship they already have by asking her to do something she might not be comfortable with. Besides, she needs to get more a grip on herself. It's not like she's been starved of touch her entire life, Diana knows what it feels like to have been hugged and have your head patted; it usually doesn't do anything emotional if it comes from your smelly old aunt Bellatrix but still-
Luna says it before she can muster up to courage to.
"Y'know, it's awfully chilly in here . . . . Dad told us that we're out of blankets too . . . " She says it casually but it still makes Diana's heart jump for joy, "Would it . . . . would it be okay if we just cuddled for a while? Platonically? I would've figured something else out but I'm really fucking cold and don't want to move so . . . yeah . . ., "
"Sure!! " Diana says, a little too enthusiastically to be normal; She tries to cover it up with a nervous laugh, "I mean . . . I'm fine with it if you are,"
Luna gives her quizzical look before scooting closer to Diana, the taller girl moving and making space for Luna to curl into her side. The blonde witch does exactly that, unabashedly throwing an arm over Diana's body as their legs tangle together. She tentatively wraps an arm around Luna's waist out of politeness, turning onto her side as the smaller girl snuggles into her chest, forcing (which is what Diana tells herself so that annoying little voice in her head will shut up) Diana to rest her chin on top of Luna's head.
She smells like daisies. That's a very platonic thing to notice . . . right?
"Diana?"
"Huh?" Diana cranes her neck to look down at Luna's head resting on her chest, something like butterflies going through her stomach at the way she looks up at her.
Luna smiles, a teasing, snarky one that has Diana's stomach doing somersaults. She gulps, suddenly feeling very warm all over.
"Tell your brain to shut up and go to sleep, "
Diana laughs, softly, as Luna grumbles about the cold and snuggles into her further.
She falls asleep feeling safe for the first time in years.
Going back to school is far from easy for Maya.
There's the week she's taken off for the little detour to Delhi, the questioning stares and bland answers she gives to Harry, Ron and Hermione about why she suddenly went MIA. Diana knows the truth of course; there's no reason for her not to. Maya's apologized to Isabelle numerous times for what ended up happening on their shopping trip, the guilt feeling like it was eating her alive inside from what she put her friend through after spiralling into madness. But the Shadowhunter was surprisingly very understanding about the whole thing, stating that rage can make people do horrible things and to let bygones be bygones, and that Cameron may or may not have deserved it for provoking her in the first place--
Thank god her mom had the foresight to go to his parents and reveal the truth, otherwise Maya would be in very, very, deep shit right now. It's not as though she hasn't received any consequences for her actions though; Maya's had to sign a contract from the Institute, which means that she can never use her magic in front of Mundanes again, unless she wants to risk literal banishment and being thrown in the Gard for the rest of her life.
But considering that there's now an ongoing investigation at Constance Billiard and Cameron Butler's been expelled, a small part of her thinks it may, just may, have been a tiny bit worth it.
Anyway, with their O.W.Ls approaching in six months, her teachers aren't hesitating to pile the fifth years with homework. Maya doesn't know how she's managing to keep her anxiety under control, with all that's going on. A combination of propranolol and mindfulness exercises are seeming to help to alleviate some of the pressure, as well as weekly check-ins with Jem, who's forced her to cut down to one cup of coffee a day (crazy, I know!) as it could potentially interfere with her meds.
She clicks through the keys on her laptop, finally starting to work on her submission to win an internship at Vox Angelus. "Journalism is a representation of the ruling powers that govern public opinion, " Maya types out, biting her lip in concentration, "Oftentimes, those ruling powers are not an accurate representation of ongoing problems in current society, due to the fact that there is no empathy or nuanced view towards the actual events. One example of this is the way the Middle east's diversity is being squashed into a narrow, colonial viewpoint by various major news outlets, every time a tragedy occurs there. . . . ., "
"The assumption that the majority of Arab people are terrorists is often propagated to appeal to a white, privileged majority, " Maya mutters, under her breath, a lightbulb suddenly going off in her head, "They find comfort in those views because that is all they've been exposed to thus far. Diversity in both coverage and newsrooms could change this harmful rhetoric for the better. If more people from the Arab community were included in the newsroom, there could be a positive change in the way these cases are covered and broadcasted. They could give feedback as well as provide racial & cultural context to make sure that the journalists involved are treating the issue with the care and sensitivity that it deserves. "
"Bingo, baby!" Maya whoops, joy spreading through her veins. A huge grin breaks out on her face at finally, finally being able to work through her immense writer's block that's been looming over her head for the past few months.
She might actually have a chance at winning this thing.
Later that day, she sits with Ron and Hermione in the library, where they work on Umbridge's most recent ream of homework. Other students, nearly all of them fifth-years, sit at lamp-lit tables nearby, noses close to books, quills scratching feverishly, while the sky outside the mullioned windows grows steadily darker. The only other sound is the slight squeaking of one of Madam Pince's shoes, as the librarian prowls the aisles menacingly, breathing down the necks of those touching her precious books.
When Harry sits down next to her, opposite Ron and Hermione, Maya immediately grows concerned; His skin is dead-white, scar more prominent than usual.
'How did it go?' Hermione whispers, and then, looking concerned. 'Are you all right, Harry?'
'Yeah . . . fine . . . I dunno,' says Harry impatiently, wincing as though his scar is bothering him once more 'Listen . . . I've just realised something . . .'
Harry tells them about his latest Occlumency lesson with Snape. Apparently, he's come to a major conclusion; the corridor he's been having dreams about? It's none other than the Department of Mysteries.
'So . . . so are you saying . . .' whispers Ron, as Madam Pince sweeps past, squeaking slightly 'that the weapon — the thing You-Know-Who's after — is in the Ministry of Magic?'
'In the Department of Mysteries, it's got to be,' Harry whispers. 'I saw that door when your dad took me down to the courtrooms for my hearing and it's definitely the same one he was guarding when the snake bit him.'
Hermione lets out a long, slow sigh. 'Of course,' she breathes.
'Of course what?' says Ron rather impatiently.
'Ron, think about it. . . Sturgis Podmore was trying to get through a door at the Ministry of Magic . . . it must have been that one, it's too much of a coincidence!'
'How come Sturgis was trying to break in when he's on our side?' says Ron.
'Yeah, doesn't that seem a bit . . . off to you?" Maya questions, her interest piqued.
'So what's in the Department of Mysteries?' Harry asks Ron. 'Has your dad ever mentioned anything about it?'
'I know they call the people who work in there "Unspeakables" ', says Ron, frowning. 'Because no one really seems to know what they do — weird place to have a weapon.'
'It's not weird at all, it makes perfect sense,' says Hermione. 'It will be something top secret that the Ministry has been developing, I expect . . . Harry, are you sure you're all right?'
Harry has just ran his hands over his forehead as though he's trying to iron down his scar, 'Yeah . . . fine . . .' he says, lowering his hands, which are trembling. 'I just feel a bit . . . I don't like Occlumency much.'
'I expect anyone would feel shaky if they'd had their mind attacked over and over again,' says Hermione sympathetically, to Maya's surprise, 'Look, let's get back to the common room, we'll be a bit more comfortable there.'
Maya packs up along with them, dreading the long night of homework that awaits her. She can feel her brain cells slowly shriveling up and dying from exhaustion. Yet another History of Magic essay is left, then some Arithmancy problems, then finally, a Transfiguration quiz that she's probably going to half-ass studying for.
Whatever. It's nothing she can't handle. Though it's probably on Maya for choosing ten classes out of thirteen in the first place.
As she stows her calculator into the front pocket of her satchel, mentally preparing herself for the long hours ahead, Maya sees someone familiar out of the corner of her eye. Her heart does an unexpected leap in her chest as she recognizes a familiar blond head of hair bent over a Transfiguration textbook. Draco Malfoy seems utterly lost in thought, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he scribbles out an answer onto his piece of parchment. Something about the way his bangs fall over his eyes make her stomach tighten, and before she knows it, Maya is quietly walking over to sit down at his table once the Golden trio are out of sight.
He doesn't notice her at first; in fact, it takes a clear of his throat for him to even look up. But when he does, it's as though a change has come over him. Draco Malfoy sits up straighter, a tint of pink at his cheekbones as his grey eyes widen in surprise.
"Erm . . . hi, I guess, " Maya says, nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear; It's now long enough for her to be able to tie up.
"Hello, " he replies, voice breathy with shock, "What - what're you doing here?"
"I . . . just wanted to see how you were, " Maya replies, softly, "After everything, "
"I'm . . . . alright, " replies Draco (Maya doesn't know when she switched to calling him that in her head), "How was your break?"
"I - uh, " Maya laughs, nervously, wondering how much of the truth she should tell him, "Well, I finally went to therapy. Got the help I needed . . . . . it's been nice, actually, "
"Oh yeah?" he says, smiling; Something flips over in her stomach at his accent and Maya suddenly feels red creeping across her cheeks, "How'd that go?"
"Very reassuring, to be honest, " Maya replies, surprised at his interest, "It's nice to know that I'm not completely insane. My mother, however, is trying to turn me into an adult. I think she wants to make move-out day come sooner, "
"Really?" he puts away his textbook; having all his attention on her at once, "What did she do?"
"Well, for starters, she wants me to get my learner's license by the time I'm sixteen, " Maya rolls her eyes at the memory, "Basically forced me into the driver's seat-"
"You drive?" he questions, brows furrowing.
"With my mother in the car, don't worry, " Maya adds, seeing his look of concern, "Anyways - um - " she flushes with embarrassment, recalling that day with very vivid memory, "let's just say it didn't go according to plan, "
"As in?" There's a teasing smirk on his face, as if he already knows what's going to come out of her mouth. Maya suddenly squirms in her seat, his gaze on her doing very strange things to her body. Merlin, why is she so flustered?
"I - " Maya stutters, wondering if she really should be admitting this to someone she used to consider her worst enemy, "I - may or may not - have crashed, " His eyebrows raise, " - into - into the neighbors mailbox, "
Draco Malfoy stares at her for a full five seconds before bursting into laughter.
Maya feels hot embarrassment wash over her as he clutches his side, almost doubling over.
"Stop - stop laughing at me, " she grumbles, sinking down in her seat, "I bet you couldn't do better if you tried, "
"Actually, I could, " he counters, much to her surprise, sitting back up. Maya isn't sure if she likes the confident glint in his eye.
"How would you know?" she questions, raising her eyebrow in half-seriousness.
"I - " he suddenly looks embarrassed, "I shouldn't say-"
"Oh come on, " Maya scoffs, "It's not like I'm going to tell anyone, "
Draco seems to think it over for a few minutes before answering, "Fine, " he mutters, tone of voice, "But this stays between us, am I clear?"
"Sure, " Maya replies, smirking, suddenly liking the feeling of being the one with the power, "Now spill your secrets, Malfoy, "
He rolls his eyes at her before taking a deep breath, "I've been sneaking out with my dad's cars since I was thirteen, "
Shock fills Maya's lungs before she can take a breath.
She . . . definitely did not expect that to come out of his mouth.
"What?!" she gasps, as he shushes her, looking around wildly to see if anyone's heard, "Are you serious?!"
"Lower your voice, woman!!" he hisses, before continuing, "It's not that big of a deal-"
"Not that big of a deal?!" Maya laughs, shocked at his nonchalance, "You, you of all people just told me that-"
"It's not like you're a stickler for the rules either, Maya, " The way he surveys her makes something flip over in Maya's stomach, a smirk curling on the side of his mouth, "Didn't you literally walk out in the middle of Moody's class last year with no context?"
"He was being an asshole, " Maya says, snark going into her tone, "Guess you two have that in common, "
"Ouch, " he feigns an expression of hurt, leaning back in his seat, "You wound me, my fair lady, "
"Your fair lady?" Maya questions, scoffing. She tries to ignore the strange feeling his words send through her.
"Well I don't see you spilling all your secrets to anyone else, do I?" Something about the way those words come out of his mouth stir something inside her, something Maya's never felt before.
Fuck.
Maya suddenly remembers why she sat with him in the first place.
"I actually wanted to talk about that, " She replies, testing the waters; His expression changes to one she can't read, "About . . . what happened before break, "
There's an awkward silence before he opens his mouth, "Maya-"
"I'm used to thinking the worst of you, " Maya continues, "That's how it's been since the beginning. Every time I thought you couldn't get any worse, you did. You kept surprising me with how much of a nasty little shit you could be, always meddling and plotting things you weren't supposed to. I used to think that people were plain black or plain white. That good and evil were tangible things which you could distinguish between easily. But this past year has made me question a lot of things, and I think it's time to set the record straight, "
"What do you mean?" There's a certain, vulnerability in his tone; Draco Malfoy's grey eyes are wide and fearful. He's terrified of what I'm going to say, Maya realises, with a twinge of guilt twisting painfully in her chest.
"You proved me wrong, " She takes a deep breath, the pounding of her heart sending deep tremors through her ribcage, "Draco Malfoy, you are one of the most complex people I've ever met. There is good in you, beneath all the bigotry, and you've proven that to me. I'm not saying I agree with any of what you may believe, but given that I now know the truth about what happened, I don't think it's fair to hold it against you anymore. So . . . . . I'm forgiving you, "
There's a startled silence between them. Draco looks like he's short-circuited, his brain struggling to compute whatever synapses have gone off in his brain. He opens his mouth then closes it, repeating this until he's finally able to form coherent words.
"You said the same thing to me before, " he breathes out, something catching in Maya's stomach at how widely his eyes stare at her, "The night where you were drunk on top of the Astronomy tower. About how you're never going to figure me out because I don't fit into your perception of good or evil, "
Shock hits her like a truck; Maya remembers next to nothing about that night, and wonders, with horror, what else she might've admitted to him. Oh God. "I-I did?"
"Why are you doing this, all of a sudden?" He questions heatedly, his tone filled with panic; Maya's heart breaks with how fragile his voice sounds, "If you want something from me, just say it, "
"I don't want anything from you, why would you think that?!"
He suddenly clams up, looking extremely regretful of his earlier words, "You don't want to know, "
There's a hint of something sinister behind his words, but Maya doesn't exactly want to push him for information, considering how panicked he looks right now. She tentatively reaches out for his hand, which he accepts, the cold metal of his rings brushing against her fingers sending strange quivers down her spine.
"I don't want us to hate each other because of circumstances that were out of our control, " She says, quietly, barely able to meet his eyes due to how intense his gaze is, "So . . . if you're okay with putting the past behind us, I guess I am too, "
The wait for his response is agonising. In the seconds that it takes for him to regain his composure, Maya feels like she might die from suspense.
He looks up at her, all the pieces back in place, and directly in the eye.
"I'd like that very much "
In those six words, it feels like an entire wave of relief has just washed over her.
Maya doesn't know what they are to each other anymore, but it finally feels like her life is starting to repair itself.
Or at least, that's what she thinks until the next morning.
When Hermione's Daily Prophet arrives, she smoothes it out, gazes for a moment at the front page and gives a yelp that causes everyone in the vicinity to stare at her.
'What?' Maya questions, smearing jam and clotted cream on one of the scones that decorate her plate. She takes a bite to keep her hunger at bay.
For answer, Hermione spreads the newspaper on the table in front of them and points at ten black-and-white photographs that fill the whole of the front page, nine showing wizards' faces and the tenth, a witch's. Some of the people in the photographs are silently jeering; others are tapping their fingers on the frame of their pictures, looking insolent. Each picture is captioned with a name and the crime for which the person has been sent to Azkaban.
Antonin Dolohov, reads the legend beneath a wizard with a long, pale, twisted face, who leers up at Maya, convicted of the brutal murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett.
Algernon Rookwood, says the caption beneath a pockmarked man with greasy hair who leans against the edge of his picture, looking bored, convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic secrets to He Who Must Not Be Named.
But Maya's eyes keep getting drawn to a vaguely familiar face on the page, the one with the witch. She has long, dark hair that looks like a bird's nest. There's a glint of insanity in her heavy-lidded eyes, an arrogant, disdainful smile playing around her thin mouth. Like Sirius, she retains vestiges of great good looks, but something — perhaps Azkaban — has taken most of her beauty.
Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of the torture and permanent capacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom, reads the caption.
Lestrange . . . why does that sound familiar?
"That's my aunt, " Diana chokes out, quiet enough for only Maya to hear, "Maya, half of these people have been at my dinner table, "
Oh fuck.
The headline reads: 'MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN: MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS 'RALLYING POINT' FOR OLD DEATH EATERS.'
'Black?' says Harry, loudly. 'Not — ?'
'Shhh!' whispers Hermione desperately. 'Not so loud — 'just read it!'
The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban. Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners escaped in the early hours of yesterday evening and that he has already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of these individuals. 'We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped,' said Fudge last night. 'Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ever to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black's cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals, and we beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of these individuals be approached.'
'There you are, Harry,' says Ron, looking awestruck, 'That's why he was happy last night.'
'I don't believe this,' snarls Harry, 'Fudge is blaming the breakout on Sirius?'
'What other options does he have?' says Hermione bitterly. 'He can hardly say, "Sorry, everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort" — stop whimpering, Ron — "and now Voldemort's worst supporters have broken out, too." I mean, he's spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn't he?'
Hermione rips open the newspaper and began to read the report inside while Maya peers around the Great Hall. No one looks as anxious as she feels on the inside (except maybe Diana, whose face has disappeared into her plate of pancakes). Maya feels a sick twist of revulsion in her gut as she sees her classmates laughing, joking around, talking about Quidditch and homework, unaware that their very existence is on the line.
But there seems to be someone else who shares the same sentiment as her. Over at the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy doesn't look very well. He seems oblivious to the way his classmates are laughing and jeering around him, barely eating, fork idly picking at his plate. Something about him is different today, it seems as though he's the only one who's noticed the dark cloud hanging over them all.
When he notices her looking, and their eyes meet, Maya feels an electric jolt go through her stomach. The familiarity of it is unnerving, this strange, compelling connection that they share. She gives him a curt nod and tries to turn back to her friends, but that's when the realization hits her.
Oh fuck.
Oh God.
Ada paavi.
Maya's always had the worst timing. Bizarre epiphanies in the middle of the night, crackheaded thoughts during a serious lecture from Nandini, she's never been convenient when a clock is involved. But this, this takes the cake. During a time where she should be fearing for her life, Maya has undoubtedly come to one of the scariest -- and yet most vulnerable -- conclusions of her life.
She has feelings for Draco Malfoy.
It should be terrifying. It should be making her want to scream and run, alarm bells ringing in her head. But somehow, Maya can't bring herself to do anything but quietly look down at her plate, unfamiliar feelings stewing inside her stomach.
She likes him. She likes him, a lot. His sarcastic (yet somehow endearing) personality has rubbed off of her and made her grow fond of his presence. And his looks don't hurt either, with how many times she's caught herself staring and been forced to pull away.
Goddamn it, Tessa was right.
Maya loves mysteries, especially ones that she can't solve. Her drive to succeed is almost unparalleled, obsessive, even. Draco Malfoy, however different they may appear on the surface, seems to check all the boxes for her.
And Maya doesn't know how she should feel about what she's managed to unearth thus far.
'Oh my — ' says Hermione wonderingly, still staring at the newspaper, breaking Maya out of her trance.
'What now?' says Harry quickly; Maya feels a deadly sense of foreboding creeping up her neck.
'It's . . . horrible,' says Hermione, looking shaken. She folds back page ten of the newspaper and hands it to the four of them.
TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER
St Mungo's Hospital promised a full inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderich Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a pot plant. Healers called to the scene were unable to revive Mr Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death. Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr Bodes ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokeswizard for the hospital said in a statement: 'St Mungo's deeply regrets the death of Mr Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident. 'We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr Bode's bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil's Snare which, when touched by the convalescent Mr Bode, throttled him instantly. St Mungo's is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward.'
'Bode . . .' says Ron. 'Bode. It rings a bell . . .'
'We saw him,' Hermione whispers, 'In St Mungo's, remember? He was in the bed opposite Lockhart's, just lying there, staring at the ceiling. And we saw the Devil's Snare arrive. She — the Healer — said it was a Christmas present.'
'By the Angel, ' Maya whispers, horror sinking into her stomach.
This can't be good.
'How come we didn't recognise Devil's Snare? We've seen it before . . . we could've stopped this from happening.' Harry says, sharply.
'Who expects Devil's Snare to turn up in a hospital disguised as a pot plant?' says Ron, the tone of his voice sounding miserable. 'It's not our fault, whoever sent it to the bloke is to blame! They must be a real prat, why didn't they check what they were buying?'
'I don't think anyone would put The Devil's Snare in a pot and not realize it was lethal, " Diana mutters, grip tightening on her fork.
Hermione speaks up in a trembling voice, 'This — this was murder . . . a clever murder, as well . . . if the plant was sent anonymously, how's anyone ever going to find out who did it?'
'I met Bode,' says Harry to Ron, slowly 'I saw him at the Ministry with your dad.'
Ron's mouth falls open. 'I've heard Dad talk about him at home! He was an Unspeakable ' — he worked in the Department of Mysteries!'
They look at each other for a moment, then Hermione pulls the newspaper back towards her, closes it, glares for a moment at the pictures of the ten escaped Death Eaters on the front, then leaps to her feet.
'Where are you going?' says Ron, startled.
'To send a letter,' says Hermione, swinging her bag on to her shoulder. 'It . . . well, I don't know whether . . . but it's worth trying . . . and I'm the only one who can.'
'I hate it when she does that,' grumbles Ron, as the rest of them get to their feet and walk at a much slower place out of the Great Hall 'Would it kill her to tell us what she's up to for once? It'd take her about ten more seconds than usual, "
"Oh come on, Ron, " Diana scoffs, wrapping an arm around Maya's shoulder, "We're talking about Hermione Granger, you prat. When has her brain ever worked at the same speed as ours?"
"You look pale, Maya, " observes Harry, as Maya swallows, nervously, "Are you sure you're alright?"
It feels like someone's poured a pensieve down her throat, memories from her early childhood in England swirling around inside her throat. Maya suddenly remembers a quote Nandini had read to her as a child, from the great civil rights activist Martin Luther King Jr.
"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope"
Maya wonders if her attraction to the Walmart Elsa currently sitting at the Slytherin table is the Universe's way of telling her not to lose morale.
ahhhh and there we have it! only five chapters left until the end of act two! wdyt about maya forgiving draco? did he deserve it, or do you think hse's being too lenient? and what's going to happen after the department of mysteries? will the shadow world be rocked by the arrival of one of it's greatest enemies? only time will tell. can't promise when the next update will be because i'm currently having some issues on the technical side, but stay safe, stay social distanced, and have a great day!!
-- xoxo, disha
Chapter 36: Chapter 36
Chapter Text
"So . . . . you like someone?"
"Yes" Maya wrings her hands out in her lap, feeling the shame within her multiply by tenfold.
God, she's so stupid.
"And this person has shown that they care about you?"
"Yep, "
"But you're scared to tell them how you feel, " Jem presses on, scribbling something onto his notepad, "Why is that?"
"Because- " Maya starts off, the words catching in her throat, "Well . . . there's more than one reason, "
"Starting with?"
"Well . . . . . I don't think my friends would be happy with it, " She starts off, slowly, trying to make sense of the thoughts in her head, "They're in the house that rivals ours. My friends are also not on very good terms with this person because of things that they've done in the past. It would be social suicide to even admit that they're an acquaintance, "
"But would it make you happy if you got it off of your chest?, " he observes, as a sinking feeling comes over her.
"I guess . . . , " Maya starts, "But I don't even know if they like me back, even after everything that's happened. And besides, what would I gain after telling them? It's not like we have a chance together, anyway . . . "
"Could you explain to me why you think that?" He questions, now looking interested.
"Um . . " Maya starts, starting to feel herself clam up; She laughs, nervously "I shouldn't say . . . "
"You realize that this is a therapy session? I'm not interrogating you, Maya. You're free to leave at any time you wish, "
A weight lifts off of her chest as his words sink in, "Well, " Maya sighs, wondering if Jem really should be privy to such intimate details of her personal life (even if he is her therapist), "His family . . . let's just say that they hold very bigoted views against anyone who isn't pureblooded. Jem . . . his father is Lucius Malfoy, "
"Oh, " Jem says surprised; Then her words seem to sink in and his eyes widen in realization, "Oh. Well this is certainly a predicament, "
"Yeah, " she laughs, softly, looking out of the window; Cars rush by them on New York's upper east side, "Jem . . . I don't even know if I want to let him know about how I feel. We were on bad terms for the majority of last year and things have just gotten back to normal. Ruining what we already have seems like a bad idea. Besides, he's my best friend's brother. It'll be really weird for her if we suddenly start dating out of nowhere, "
"It seems to me that you're placing too much importance on external factors rather than your own happiness, " Jem observes, placing his palm in his chin in his palm, "Do you think that's fair?"
"I don't know, " Maya wonders, guilt leaching into her veins, "It sounds bad when you put it like that, "
"Do you remember what I told you when we had our last session? " he questions, sighing and sitting back in his chair, appearing to have reached a conclusion.
Maya sighs, realizing where she's gone wrong, " 'Accept the things I cannot control and pray for the courage to change the things I can, as well as the wisdom to know the difference'. But how does a quote from Bed, Bath & Beyond apply to wondering whether to ask out the guy I like?"
Something sparkles in Jem's eyes as he looks at her through his spectacles, "Can you control how other people react to your actions, Maya?"
"No?" she questions, confused.
"Can you control how your friends behave towards you?"
"No . . . "
"But can you control whether you choose to reveal your feelings to this person?"
" . . . . Yes?" Maya says, confused, starting to realize where he's going with this, "Oh . . . I get it now, "
"Maya, when you're eighteen and graduating, what are you going to regret more?" He questions, looking her directly in the eye, "Listening to the opinions of a bunch of sixteen-year-olds, or not taking a chance on someone who's clearly been good for you?"
"I think I'd just be happy that I was alive at all, to be honest, " Maya replies, as Jem chuckles.
"I'm serious, " Jem replies, clutching his clipboard, "Think about it. Is tenth grade gossip really going to matter that much in a few years? Should you be caring about what they think instead of following your own path? The decision is up to you, "
"I-" Maya starts; She didn't think this would be so difficult, "What you're saying makes sense. I don't want to give them the pleasure of making me doubt myself . . . . but at the same time . . . I don't want to lose the friends I already have, "
"Then start small, " Jem advises, scribbling down more words onto his notepad, "Gauge whether his interest in you is really worth "social suicide" as you put it. If he likes you too, then you can build something meaningful together. If not, it gives you more time to move on, "
"That sounds . . . doable, " Maya says, an idea already forming in her head.
She suddenly knows what she has to do.
Maya thinks the breakout from Azkaban might humble Umbridge a little, that she might be abashed at the catastrophe that had occurred right under the nose of her beloved Fudge. It seems, however, to have only intensified her furious desire to bring every aspect of life at Hogwarts under her personal control. She's determined at the very least to achieve a sacking before long, and the only question was whether it'll be Professor Trelawney or Hagrid who goes first.
Every single Divination and Care of Magical Creatures lesson is now conducted in the presence of Umbridge and her clipboard. She lurks by the fire in the heavily perfumed tower room, interrupting Professor Trelawney's increasingly hysterical talks with difficult questions about ornithomancy and heptomology, insisting that she predicts students' answers before they gave them and demanding that she demonstrates her skill at the crystal ball, the tea leaves and the rune stones in turn. Maya thinks Professor Trelawney might soon crack under the strain. Several times she passes her in the corridors — in itself a very unusual occurrence as she generally remains in her tower room — muttering wildly to herself, wringing her hands and shooting terrified glances over her shoulder, and all the while giving off a powerful smell of cooking sherry. Maya would feel sorry for her if she wasn’t so worried about Hagrid, but if one of them was to be ousted from their job, there can be only one choice for her as to who should remain.
Unfortunately, Hagrid isn't doing much better than Tremaine. Though he seems to be following Hermione's advice and has shown them nothing more frightening than a Crup — a creature indistinguishable from a Jack Russell terrier except for its forked tail — since before Christmas, he too seems to have lost his nerve. He's oddly distracted and jumpy during lessons, losing the thread of what he's saying to the class, answering questions wrongly, and all the time glancing anxiously at Umbridge. He's also more distant with the four of them than ever before, and has expressly forbidden them to visit him after dark.
'If she catches yeh, it'll be all of our necks on the line,' he told hem flatly, and with no desire to do anything that might jeopardise his job further they abstain from walking down to his hut in the evenings.
It seems to Maya that Umbridge is slowly tightening her grip around Hogwarts; like a large cat circling it's prey. She takes revenge in the only way she knows how— by putting in double the amount of effort for the D.A.
Harry seems pleased to see that all of them, even Zacharias Smith, have been spurred on to work harder than ever by the news that ten more Death Eaters are now on the loose, but in nobody is this improvement more pronounced than in Neville. The news of his parents' attackers' escape has wrought a strange and even slightly alarming change in him. He's not once mentioned his meeting with Harry, Ron and Hermione on the closed ward in St Mungo's and, taking their lead from him, they've kept quiet about it too. Nor has he said anything on the subject of Bellatrix and her fellow torturers' escape. In fact, Neville barely speaks during the DA meetings any more, but worked relentlessly on every new jinx and counter-curse Harry teaches them, his plump face screwed up in concentration, apparently indifferent to injuries or accidents and working harder than anyone else in the room. He's improving so fast, it's quite unnerving and when Harry teaches them the Shield Charm — a means of deflecting minor jinxes so that they rebound upon the attacker — only Hermione masters the charm faster than Neville.
Oh well. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
'Maybe it's a bit like an illness,' says Hermione, looking concerned when Harry complains about his dreams to the four of them . 'A fever or something. It has to get worse before it gets better.'
The lessons with Snape are making it worse,' says Harry flatly 'I'm getting sick of my scar hurting and I'm getting bored with walking down that corridor every night.' He rubs his forehead angrily. 'I just wish the door would open, I'm sick of standing staring at it — '
'That's not funny,' says Hermione sharply, 'Dumbledore doesn't want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn't have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You're just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.'
'I am working!' says Harry, nettled. "You try it some time — Snape: trying to get inside your head — it's not a bundle of laughs, you know!'
'Maybe . . .' says Ron slowly.
'Maybe what?' says Hermione, rather snappishly.
'Maybe it's not Harry's fault he can't close his mind,' says Ron darkly.
'What do you mean?' says Hermione. 'Well, maybe Snape isn't really trying to help Harry . . .'
The three of them stare at him. Ron looks darkly and meaningfully from one to the other.
'Maybe,' he says again, in a lower voice, 'he's actually trying to open Harry's mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know— '
'Oh for the love of God—" Maya exclaims, resisting the urge to roll her eyes into the depths of hell.
Shut up, Ron,' snaps Hermione angrily. 'How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.'
'He used to be a Death Eater,' says Ron stubbornly. 'And we've never seen proof that he really swapped sides.'
'Dumbledore trusts him,' Hermione repeats. 'And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone.'
Maya wonders if they really should be trusting a slimy-haired Potions teacher with the demeanor of a disgruntled eagle.
Valentine's day comes before she can blink.
Until now, Maya hasn't really bought into the whole concept of the holiday itself. Sure, it's nice to have someone to walk the halls with, and the candy and gifts are always something to look forward to. But she's never really been interested in anyone . . . . like that. At least, not enough that it forms into a serious attraction.
Not like now.
Does she even like PDA? Would she even be the type to want to display her love for her partner to the world? The thought of kissing in front of a crowd makes Maya's stomach turn. She's a private person. Romantic gestures are nice . . . but she'd much prefer curled up inside on a snowy day than being asked on a date in front of the entire school.
Maybe that's why she's never been able to imagine herself in a relationship.
"You sure you don't want to come out with Luna and I?" Diana adjusts her sky-blue top in the mirror, pulling her white skirt down to make sure it's an appropriate length; Maya's never seen her put this much effort into her appearance before, grinning knowingly to herself as Diana quickly pats down her hair and adjusts the delicate chain around her neck (a Christmas present from the girl Diana apparently considers "just a friend").
The smile on Maya’s face disappears as she looks down at the pile of unfinished homework on her bed. She'd meant to do it the previous day, but working on her submission for Vox Angelus took up most of the evening and Maya had no time to attend to her actual schoolwork.
"I think I'll stay in this time, " Maya replies, yawning and stretching out on her bed; There's a strange ache in the back of her neck, probably from all that time she spent leaning over her laptop last night, "I have a bunch of homework to finish. Hermione wants me to meet her at the Three Broomsticks around noon, but I'll have to return to grinding after that, "
"Oh well, " sighs Diana, fiddling with the cuffs of her jacket once more, a pink tint to her cheeks, "If you get it done early, the offer's still there, "
"You just want me to be there because you're trying to hide the fact that you fancy her, " Maya teases, as the Hufflepuff turns scarlet.
"I do not!!" Diana shrieks, with a gasp, "We're just friends, Maya!"
"Friends who like to lay in each other's laps?"
"That was completely platonic!"
"What about the jumper of hers that you still have?"
"She packed it in my suitcase for safekeeping!!" Diana struggles to justify, now looking like one of the strawberries wedged inside the tart her cousin Rhea sent her as a V-day gift, "There's nothing between us, okay? We're just close friends, "
"Sure . . . . " Maya muses, rifting through her pile of homework so she knows what to do first; She glances at the clock, "You're five minutes late for your date, by the way."
"It's not a date!, " Diana groans, strapping on her white boots; They have two-inch heels, something that Maya's never seen her wear all the times that they've gone out together, "We're just going to browse the shops together, see if we can find something interesting . . . "
"Like an engagement ring?" Maya questions, shrieking in surprise as a scarlet pillow is thrown directly at her face, "Hey!"
"You are insufferable!!" Diana hisses, but Maya doesn't miss the embarrassed blush that decorates her cheekbones, "Try to get out of your room for once, maybe? Sunlight is very essential for human survival, Maya, "
"As is this Potions essay I have to hand in tomorrow. Now go!" Maya gestures to the clock, which shows ten minutes past nine, "Luna will think you're standing her up if you get there late, "
She chuckles as Diana practically dashes out the door, footsteps thumping down the hall. Maya groans, sitting up and stretching her muscles before walking to her desk and starting the mountain of homework due the next day.
With her headphones plugged in and quill scratching onto paper, hours seem to pass like seconds, and before Maya knows it, noon has already passed. She scrambles to get ready, throwing on a red turtleneck and jeans, her trusty leather jacket quickly slipped on as she ties her hair into a messy ponytail. Maya scrambles out the door just in time, clipping on her earrings as she catches the last carriage to Hogsmeade.
The pub is loud and boisterous as she struggles to make her way through the tables, but her annoyance is alleviated as soon as she sees Hermione waving at her from a corner table, a mug of steaming butterbeer in hand. Maya laughs as she makes her way toward them, fiddling with the strings of her purse, but the sound dies on her lips as she realizes who Hermione's sitting with.
She's at the table with the unlikeliest pair of drinking mates Maya could ever have imagined: Luna Lovegood (who's apparently finished her little rendezvous with Diana) and none other than Rita Skeeter, ex-journalist on the Daily Prophet and one of Maya's least favourite people in the world.
"Maya! You're here!" Hermione exclaims, as Luna makes space to sit down beside her, "I've been waiting forever, what took you so long?!"
"I was just doing homework, but uh, Hermione -- what is she doing here?" Maya questions, pointing to Rita, whose sneer turns nasty as she sits directly across from Maya, "I thought it was just us . . . "
"I'm not too pleased to see you, either, young lady, " snaps the Journalist, taking a deep swig of her Firewhiskey, garnished with a gaudy slice of orange.
"Unemployment suits you, Rita, " Maya quips, smirking as the older woman glares at her through her cat-eye glasses, a few jewels now missing from the frame; her once-elaborate hair is now messy and undone, "Out of work, are you?"
"I'm not the only one who's been sacked, " Rita's smile is cold and unforgiving, "Last I heard, Harrison Butler was ousted from his position on the school board at Constance Billiard due to an investigation against his son. Care to comment, love?"
"Why would I care?" Maya scoffs, hoping that Rita can't see through her facade, "I'm not paying the tuition anymore, "
"Interesting, isn't it?" Rita laughs, a shrill, annoying sound, "How's it been, having your personal life splashed all over the front page? Has it made you feel betrayed, vengeful perhaps?" Her quick-quotes quill remains poised in the air beside her.
"Towards people like you?" Maya questions, sarcasm dripping from her tone, "Yeah, I guess, "
'Harry! You're early!' says Hermione, changing the subject, moving along to give him room to sit down. 'I thought you were with Cho, I wasn't expecting you for another hour at least!'
'Cho?' says Rita at once, twisting round in her seat to stare avidly at Harry. 'A girl?'
'Its none of your business if Harry's been with a hundred girls,' Hermione tells Rita, coolly. 'So you can put that away right now.'
The Quick-quotes quill stops in midair; Skeeter looks as though she's been forced to swallow Stinksap.
'What are you up to?' Harry asks, sitting down and staring from Rita to Luna to Maya.
'Little Miss Prefect was just about to tell me when you arrived.' says Rita, taking a large slurp of her drink. 'I suppose I'm allowed to talk to him, am I?' she shoots at Hermione.
'Yes, I suppose you are,' says Hermione coldly, "But if you make any more comments about Maya's personal life, I will not hesitate to put you back into cockroach form, "
Skeeter takes another great gulp of her drink and says out of the corner of her mouth, 'Pretty girl, is she, Harry?'
'One more word about Harry's love life and the deal's off and that's a promise,' says Hermione irritably.
'What deal?' says Rita, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. 'You haven't mentioned a deal yet, Miss Prissy you just told me to turn up. Oh, one of these days . . .' She takes a deep shuddering breath.
'Yes, yes, one of these days you'll write more horrible stories about Harry, Maya and I,' says Hermione indifferently. 'Find someone who cares, why don't you?'
'They've run plenty of horrible stories about those two this year without my help,' says Rita, shooting a sideways look at Harry over the top of her glass and adding in a rough whisper, 'How has that made you feel, Harry? Betrayed? Distraught? Misunderstood?'
'He feels angry, of course,' says Hermione in a hard, clear voice. 'Because he's told the Minister for Magic the truth and the Minister's too much of an idiot to believe him and Maya.'
'So you actually stick to it, do you, that He Who Must Not Be Named is back?' says Rita, lowering her glass and subjecting Harry to a piercing stare while her finger stray longingly to the clasp of the crocodile bag. 'You stand by all this garbage Dumbledore's been telling everybody about You-Know-Who returning and you being the sole witness?'
'I wasn't the sole witness,' snarled Harry, "Maya was there too, and there were a dozen-odd Death Eaters there as well. Want their names?'
'I'd love them,' breathes Rita, now fumbling in her bag once more and gazing at him as though he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. 'A great bold headline: "Potter Accuses . . ." A sub-heading, "Harry Potter and Maya Rajesh Name Death Eaters Still Among Us". And then, beneath a nice big photograph of you two, "Disturbed teenage survivors of You-Know-Who's attack, Harry Potter and Maya Rajesh, 15, caused outrage yesterday by accusing respectable and prominent members of the wizarding community of being Death Eaters . . ." '
The Quick-Quotes Quill is actually in her hand and halfway to her mouth when the rapturous expression on her face dies. 'But of course,' she says, lowering the quill and looking daggers at Hermione, 'Little Miss Prefect wouldn't want that story out there, would she?'
'As a matter of fact,' says Hermione sweetly, 'that's exactly what Little Miss Prefect does want.'
'What?!' Maya shrieks; Hermione glares at her and she lowers her voice to a whisper, "Are you joking?! This is mental!"
Rita stares at her. So does Harry. Luna, on the other hand, sings 'Weasley is our King' dreamily under her breath and stirs her drink with a cocktail onion on a stick.
'You want me to report what he says about He Who Must Not Be Named?' Rita ask Hermione in a hushed voice.
'Yes, I do,' says Hermione. 'The true story. All the facts. Exactly as Harry and Maya reports them. He'll give you all the details, Maya'll tell you the names of the undiscovered Death Eaters she saw there, Harry'll tell you what Voldemort looks like now — oh, get a grip on yourself,' she adds contemptuously, throwing a napkin across the table, for, at the sound of Voldemort's name, Rita has jumped so badly she's slopped half her glass of Firewhisky down herself.
Rita blots the front of her grubby raincoat, still staring at Hermione. Then she says baldly, "The Prophet wouldn't print it. In case you haven't noticed, nobody believes this cock-and-bull story. Everyone thinks he's delusional. Now, if you let me write the story from that angle — '
'We don't need another story about how Harry's lost his marbles or why Maya's a gold-digger!' says Hermione angrily. 'We've had plenty of those already, thank you! I want them given the opportunity to tell the truth!'
'There's no market for a story like that,' says Rita coldly.
'You mean the Prophet won't print it because Fudge won't let them,' says Hermione irritably.
Rita gives Hermione a long, hard look. Then, leaning forwards across the table towards her, she says in a businesslike tone, 'All right, Fudge is leaning on the Prophet, but it comes to the same thing. They won't print a story that shows Harry in a good light. Nobody wants to read it. It's against the public mood. This last Azkaban breakout has got people quite worried enough. People just don't want to believe You-Know-Who's back.'
'So the Daily Prophet exists to tell people what they want to hear, does it?' says Hermione scathingly. Rita sits up straight again, her eyebrows raised, and drains her glass of Firewhisky.
'The Prophet exists to sell itself, you silly girl,' she says coldly.
'My dad thinks it's an awful paper,' says Luna, chipping into the conversation unexpectedly. Sucking on her cocktail onion, she gazes at Rita with her enormous, protuberant, slightly mad eyes;. 'He publishes important stories he thinks the public needs to know. He doesn't care about making money.'
Rita looks disparagingly at Luna. 'I'm guessing your father runs some stupid little village newsletter?' she says 'Probably, Twenty-five Ways to Mingle With Muggles and the dates of the next Bring and Fly Sale?' '
No,' says Luna, dipping her onion back into her Gillywater, 'he's the editor of The Quibbler.'
Rita snorts so loudly that people at a nearby table look round in alarm. ' "Important stories he thinks the public needs to know", eh?' she says witheringly. 'I could manure my garden with the contents of that rag.'
'Well, this is your chance to raise the tone of it a bit, isn't it?' says Hermione pleasantly. 'Luna says her father's quite happy to take Harry's interview. That's who'll be publishing it.'
Rita stares at them both for a moment, then lets out a great whoop of laughter. 'The Quibbler!' she says, cackling. 'You think people will take them seriously if they're published in The Quibbler!'
'Some people won't,' says Hermione in a level voice. 'But the Daily Prophet's version of the Azkaban breakout had some gaping holes in it. I think a lot of people will be wondering whether there isn't a better explanation of what happened, and if there's an alternative story available, even if it is published in a — ' she glances sideways at Luna, 'in a — well, an unusual magazine — I think they might be rather keen to read it.'
Rita doesn't say anything for a while, but eyes Hermione shrewdly, her head a little to one side. 'All right, let's say for a moment I'll do it,' she says abruptly. 'What kind of fee am I going to get?'
'I don't think Daddy exactly pays people to write for the magazine,' says Luna dreamily, 'They do it because it's an honour and, of course, to see their names in print.'
Rita Skeeter looks as though the taste of Stinksap is strong in her mouth again as she rounds on Hermione. 'I'm supposed to do this for free?'
'Well, yes,' says Hermione calmly, taking a sip of her drink. 'Otherwise, as you very well know, I will inform the authorities that you are an unregistered Animagus. Of course, the Prophet might give you rather a lot for an insider's account of life in Azkaban.'
'Hermione!' Maya exclaims, shocked at her friend's behavior.
Rita looks as though she would like nothing better than to seize the paper umbrella sticking out of Hermione's drink and thrust it up her nose.
'I don't suppose I've got any choice, have I?' says Rita, her voice shaking slightly. She opens her crocodile bag once more, withdraws a piece of parchment, and raises her Quick-Quotes Quill.
'Daddy will be pleased,' says Luna brightly. A muscle twitches in Rita's jaw.
'OK, Harry?' says Hermione, turning to him. 'Ready to tell the public the truth?'
'I suppose,' says Harry, watching Rita balancing the Quick-Quotes Quill at the ready on the parchment between them.
'Maya?'
Maya sighs, putting her head in her hands and mulling the situation over in her head. She wasn't prepared for this to happen. Being questioned again by someone whom she wanted to murder all those months ago.
But in a time like this, is telling the truth going to screw things over for her? Or will it raise awareness among the public that their lives are in danger?
Maya sighs, looking up at the occupants of the table. Hermione looks at her with expectant eyes, and it's then that Maya makes her decision.
'I'll do it, ' she says, quietly, fear thumping in her veins.
'Fire away, then, Rita,' says Hermione serenely, fishing a cherry out from the bottom of her glass.
In all his fifteen years of existence, Draco Malfoy swears that he's never feared for his life more than he does now.
He watches, with a mix of fear and annoyance as Maya Rajesh curses at the person who's dared to walk into the path of her mother's 4-series (a car that she's terrified of scratching because, in her words, Nandini Subramanian will "chop her up and throw her remains into hell" if she finds out that Maya stole borrowed her precious vehicle for a random late-night outing with her best friend's brother).
Draco doesn't even know how she convinced him to come out with her, or why she even wanted to in the first place. His mission for the rest of the term was to avoid her at all costs, keep his distance, for if he got closer to her, Draco had felt like his feelings would tear their way out of his chest. He's been hiding them for so long, keeping his distance, telling himself that it's never going to happen. But the more he denies it, the stronger it gets, and it was only a matter of time before the strings holding him together broke.
But since the universe absolutely loves to screw him over, Maya Rajesh always seems to find a way to derail his plans.
First she forgives him. Good. Great. Draco doesn't really think he deserves it but he's glad that she doesn't hold any more animosity for him anymore. It made it easier for him to keep his distance, bury his head in textbooks, act like they're back in the past. Not friends. Not enemies. Just two people who happen to be on the periphery of each other's lives. That's completely normal and fine, right?
But even through all his attempts to keep her away from him, she still, still managed to find a way in.
It had started with her graciously interrupting his study session. Draco had been barely awake at one in the morning, finishing up an essay due for his last class the next day. She'd found him in the library, somehow, made conversation in that sweet, awkward way of hers. How was he supposed to push her away, with no energy, and those huge blue eyes of hers that remind him of a fawn's, filled with sparkling, incandescent lights? He'd tried, Draco had really tried to end the conversation there (not that he wanted to, it's just that his self-control was at it's thinnest), but she'd noticed how tired he was, and asked if he wanted to take a break and come get ice cream with her.
And like a fool, he'd reluctantly agreed.
So now he's here, in New York (she didn't want to go to Fortescue's, for some reason he couldn't figure out), being driven to god-knows-where by a girl who hasn't figured out how to brake yet. In fact, Maya Rajesh seems to have no confidence behind the wheel, stopping and shrieking in terror at the slightest interruptions.
Incredible way to spend his Sunday night, really.
"You're not going to die, you idiot!" she exclaims, glaring at him as Draco silently traces a cross in the air and folds his hands in surrender, begging the universe to not let him die before he's graduated secondary school, "Stop looking at me like that!"
"Yeah, well with the way you drive, I feel like I should start writing my will!!" He snarls back, as she rolls her eyes.
"Oh, like you can do any better, " she quips back, yelping as Draco grabs the steering wheel, yanking them away from the curb just in time, "Give me a fucking warning, will you?!"
"You were going to crash us into the platform!" he says, incredulously, "Is this even legal, Rajesh?!"
"Absolutely not, " she says, in such a calm tone that Draco feels a little scared of her, "But if you don't take your hand off of my steering wheel, I'll make sure that you'll be permanently stuck to your seat for the rest of your life, "
Draco reluctantly extricates his hand from her wrist, ignoring the feeling of how warm her skin felt against his for those short few moments. He sighs, leaning back against the leather seat of the sedan.
"At least tell me where we're going, will you?" He asks, turning to look at her through half-lidded eyes. Maya Rajesh rolls her eyes at him, but he can detect a telltale hint of pink on her cheeks that makes his heart pick up beat in hope.
"I told you, we're getting ice cream, "
"But where?!"
"Eddie's Sweet Shop, " She replies, confusing him, "It's this old-fashioned soda fountain I used to live next to, in Queens. My mom's been taking me there for ice cream since I was a kid, "
"Interesting . . . . " he muses, trying to fit in the image of a five year old Maya Rajesh in his head, "It's hard for me to imagine you as a kid; you're like a librarian trapped in the body of a teenager, "
"I am not!!" Maya Rajesh replies, scandalized; Draco laughs at the shock on her face, "Whatever made you think that?!"
"You're bossy enough to rival my mother, " he scoffs, as she rolls her eyes.
"It's called being assertive-"
"I barely ever see you without a mug of coffee-"
"It's O.W.L. season, of course I need some amount of coffee to survive-"
"You're always wearing that giant red house sweater and jeans-"
"Hogwarts is cold, okay?!"
"I never see you without a book-"
"How does that make me old?" she questions, glaring at him as she manages to turn around a curb without killing them both.
"It's not really a question of being 'old' " he scoffs, leaning back in his seat, "You're just . . . more mature, I guess. You already know what you want and what your future looks like. You have different priorities than other people your age and that's sort of . . . cool, "
"Are you complimenting me, Malfoy?" she teases, the tone of her voice making the tips of his ears go red.
"No, " he grumbles, as Maya Rajesh snorts, "I'm just curious. Doesn't it ever get . . . . tiring for you? Constantly having to make decisions for yourself?"
The light from the street lamps gloss over her hair as she thinks for a moment, music softly playing from the radio, "Not really, to be honest. My mom's always given me that control, I guess, over what I want to do with myself. She wanted to make sure I was independent in case something happened to her . . . "
"Oh, " Draco replies, softly; Her expression changes.
"You don't need to pity me, " she laughs, softly, "I'm used to it; she's been on missions most of my childhood. What about you?"
"What?" He's confused.
"Do you like having control over your life, or would you rather have all your decisions made for you?" she questions, turning to face him.
"I . . . " Draco doesn't know how to answer such a loaded question, "I've never really had the chance to find out"
"What do you mean?" she frowns, questioning him as they pass a row of candy-colored houses, colonial-style. They remind Draco of a more upbeat version of Malfoy Manor.
"My parents have made all my decisions for me, " He says, softly, "I've never really been . . . involved . . in what's happening, "
"You're okay with that?" she questions, her eyes wide. The shock on her face is palpable, and Draco takes it in as he wonders how much of his home life is safe to reveal to her. Here in the dark, it feels like nothing he says really counts.
"I have to be, " He says, quietly. Something in her expression changes, and Draco suddenly feels bad for saying anything in the first place.
Before he can react, however, she reaches out to brush her fingers against his arm, soothingly. He flinches, at first, not used to the sudden contact, but as she pulls away, he taps her wrist to know it's okay.
"I'm sorry, " she replies, softly; There's something in her voice that makes him feel safe.
"It's fine, " he says, gently, "Like you said, I'm used to it., "
"Doesn't sound like something you'd be used to, " she replies, looking at him in confusion, "You're taking charge all over the place at school, "
"Yeah, well that's different . . . . " He laughs, "Not all of us are control freaks, Maya, "
"I'm starting to think that you insulting me is just a coping mechanism to hide the fact that you like me, "
Draco nearly chokes at her words, but when he sees her laughing at the expression on his face, an evil idea pops into his head.
"Who said that I need to hide the fact that I like you?"
Now it's her turn to flush red, her eyes widen and she immediately looks away, breaking eye contact. Draco feels victorious inside, as they pull into the parking lot of Eddie's.
"Cat got your tongue, Rajesh?" he jokes, as she glares at him.
"Get out of the car, "
Maya doesn't remember Eddie's being this warm.
Guaranteed, most of that warmth is coming from the blond wizard standing next to her, gazing around the old-fashioned shop with an air of intrigue. He's probably never set foot in Muggle London before, let alone an ice cream shop.
"Two scoops of mint chip," they both say, at the same time. Maya looks at him in shock; she didn't expect them to have the same order. He flushes red and breaks eye contact.
Interesting . . . . maybe they have more similarities than she originally expected.
"Cup or cone?" The server asks, jotting their orders down on a piece of pink paper.
"Cup, " he replies, at the same time Maya says, "Cone, please, "
Again . . really?
"Good, well, find a place to sit down, I'll have your order out in five minutes!" The server replies, sweetly, "Cash or credit?"
"Cash, " Maya replies, pulling out a ten-dollar-bill from her pocket, but once again, Draco Malfoy has beat her to it. He flashes the server a charming smile as he places a black credit card on the counter, sliding it towards her before Maya can even blink.
"You're not paying-" she tries to justify, glaring at him, but the cashier swipes his card through the machine before she can argue, handing it back to him with a sweet smile. He smirks back at her, and a flame of jealousy stokes within Maya as she notices the way the young cashier eyes him through her lashes.
"Accept it, Rajesh, " he replies, smugly, as they sit down in the corner, on rotating barstools that face the night sky outside, "I'm always going to be one step ahead of you, "
"Only because you're scarily competitive, " she scoffs.
"You just can't handle losing, " he retorts.
"That's because I never lose, " she replies, smugly
Maya rolls her eyes at his words, leaning back in her seat. Her palms are starting to sweat -- from the anxiety or the heat, she can't tell -- and she takes off her jacket with a sigh of relief. His eyes linger on the thin straps of her tight black tank top before she fires back at him.
"Has anyone ever told you that you are insufferably arrogant?" He replies, meaning to taunt her, but it fails.
"That's because I have the talent to back up my words, " Maya retorts.
Draco Malfoy raises his eyebrows, "And I don't?"
"You do . . . " Maya pauses, not wanting to inflate his ego even more, "You just won't shut up about it, "
"Oh please, " he scoffs, his jaw flexing as he looks out the window; Maya ignores the strange feeling that goes through her stomach at the small action, "Don't try to humble me. You Americans think the entire world revolves around you, "
"At least I don't sound like I constantly have a stick up my ass, " Maya retorts, as he gasps in mock-horror, "Besides, not all Americans are self-centered idiots. That's a huge generalization, "
"Alright, most Americans are . . . fine, " He reluctantly agrees, then gives her a once-over through hooded eyes, "But then there's you . . . "
Maya smacks him on the back of his head as their ice cream arrives. Draco scowls as he looks at her, but Maya just rolls her eyes and takes a spoon of her mint-chip ice cream. It's cold and sweet on her tongue, but Maya feels like she's the one who's going to melt instead of the delicious concoction, with the way he's gazing at her with hooded eyes.
Jem was right. Draco Malfoy's definitely interested alright, with the way she's caught him looking at her more than once. But Maya wants to realize where exactly that interest lies before she even breathes a word of her feelings to him.
"There's something I can't wrap my head around, " He says, as Maya raises an eyebrow, after a few moments of comfortable silence, "Why did you portal me here?"
Great. He's finally asked her the question.
"Oh no big deal, I just have a crush on you that I can't shake and decided to go on a romantic late night drive because I wanted to judge whether my feelings are worth pursuing-"
"I don't know, " Maya replies, appearing nonchalant, "I guess I just wanted to get to know you better, "
"You?" He jabs his spoon at her, raising an eyebrow, "Wanted to get to know me better?"
Shabash, Maya!, taunts a certain voice in her head, You should really consider dabbling in white collar crime with all the amazing lies you're coming up with!
"What?" she questions, laughing, "Is that so hard to believe?"
"From you?" He questions, sarcastically, but there's still a hint of vulnerability in his tone, "Yeah, definitely, "
Maya breathes out, slowly, deciding to be honest.
"You're an intriguing person, Draco, " she replies, slowly, a blush forming on her cheeks, "You're smart -- I can actually hold a conversation with you without having to dumb myself down every few seconds. You have a sense of humor. You're ambitious and determined to prove yourself. You know who you are and don't let anyone undermine you. You work hard for the things you want. You protect the people you love at all costs. You're . . . charming when you want to be. I don't know . . . I guess I just like you as a person, "
He stares at her for about five full minutes (in which Maya slowly starts to regret everything that came out of her mouth) before replying with, "Did you just call me charming?"
"Shut up and finish your ice cream, "
stable updates here we go! my laptop went kaput so i wrote the majority of this on my phone. it's pain but at least i have the next few chapters planned out! anyway I'm tired and have homework to do, so see you (hopefully?) soon and have fun reading!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 37: Chapter 37
Chapter Text
February 2016
Luna says vaguely that she doesn't know how soon Rita's interview with Harry and Maya will appear in The Quibbler, that her father's expecting a lovely long article on recent sightings of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.
Talking about that night wasn't easy for either of them. Maya broke into a cold sweat as soon as the exact details of her kidnapping came up, and Harry's grip on his tankard tightened on every question pertaining to Cedric Diggory. Rita had grilled them for every piece of information possible, prying and cross-questioning until Maya had felt like her head was spinning from all the twists she'd voiced out. She'd left feeling exhausted and confused, but a bit triumphant as well.
For once, Maya knows that she's done the right thing. With dangerous Death Eaters out in public, people need to know exactly what they're up against.
'Can't wait to see what Umbridge thinks of you two going public,' says Dean, sounding awestruck at dinner on Monday night. Seamus is shovelling down large amounts of chicken and ham pie on Dean's other side, but Maya knows he's listening.
'It's the right thing to do,' says Neville, who sits opposite Harry. He's rather pale, but goes on in a low voice, 'It must have been . . . tough . . . talking about it . . . was it?'
'Thanks, Neville, ' Maya replies, quietly, giving him a smile; He brightens slightly, "And yeah, it was hard, but people need to know that Voldemort's still out there, "
'That's right,' says Neville, nodding, 'and his Death Eaters, too . . . people should know . . ." Neville leaves his sentence hanging and returns to his baked potato. Seamus looks up, but when he catches Harry's eye, he looks quickly back at his plate again.
After a while, Dean, Seamus and Neville depart for the common room, leaving Harry, Hermione and Maya at the table waiting for Ron, who hasn't yet had dinner because of Quidditch practice. Cho Chang walks into the Hall with her friend Marietta, determinedly avoiding eye contact with Harry, who looks crestfallen.
'Oh, I forgot to ask you,' says Hermione brightly, glancing over at the Ravenclaw table, 'what happened on your date with Cho? How come you were back so early?'
'Er . . . well, it was . . .' says Harry, pulling a dish of rhubarb crumble towards him and helping himself to seconds, 'a complete fiasco, now you mention it.'
He tells them the chaos that took place in Madam Puddifoot's tea shop.
'. . . so then,' he finishes several minutes later, as the final bit of crumble disappears, 'she jumps up, right, and says, "I'll see you around, Harry," and runs out of the place!' He puts down his spoon and looks at Hermione. 'I mean, what was all that about? What was going on?'
Hermione glances over at the back of Cho's head and sighs.
'Oh, Harry' she says sadly. 'Well, I'm sorry but you were a bit tactless.'
'Me, tactless?' says Harry, outraged. 'One minute we were getting on fine, next minute she was telling me that Roger Davies asked her out and how she used to go and snog Cedric in that stupid teashop — how was I supposed to feel about that?'
'Well, you see,' says Hermione, with the patient air of someone explaining that one plus one equals two to an over-emotional toddler, 'you shouldn't have told her that you wanted to meet me halfway through your date.'
'Why would you even do that in the first place?' Maya questions, looking at him with incredulity.
'But, but,' splutters Harry, 'but — you told me to meet you at twelve and to bring her along, how was I supposed to do that without telling her?'
'You should have told her differently' says Hermione, still with that maddeningly patient air. 'You should have said it was really annoying, but I'd made you promise to come along to the Three Broomsticks, and you really didn't want to go, you'd much rather spend the whole day with her, but unfortunately you thought you really ought to meet me and would she please, please come along with you and hopefully you'd be able to get away more quickly. And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am, too,' Hermione adds as an afterthought.
'I think that might be a bit much, ' Maya remarks, as Hermione laughs.
'Harry, you're worse than Ron . . . well, no, you're not,' she sighs, as Ron himself comes stumping into the Hall splattered with mud and looking grumpy. 'Look — you upset Cho when you said you were going to meet me, so she tried to make you jealous. It was her way of trying to find out how much you liked her.'
'Is that what she was doing?' says Harry, as Ron drops on to the bench opposite them and pulls every dish within reach towards him. 'Well, wouldn't it have been easier if she'd just asked me whether I liked her better than you?'
'Girls don't often ask questions like that,' says Hermione.
'Well, they should!' says Harry forcefully. 'Then I could've just told her I fancy her, and she wouldn't have had to get herself all worked up again about Cedric dying!'
'Not all of us can be as straightforward as you, Harry, ' Maya rolls her eyes, grabbing a bowl of fresh strawberries from the table and dipping one into her dish of cream, "Sometimes you need to be able to read subtlety, "
'I'm not saying what she did was sensible,' says Hermione, as Ginny joins them, just as muddy as Ron and looking equally disgruntled. 'I'm just trying to make you see how she was feeling at the time.'
'You should write a book,' Ron tells Hermione as he cuts up his potatoes, 'translating mad things girls do so boys can understand them.'
'Or maybe, ' chips in Diana, sliding into the empty seat next to Maya's; Maya notices she's wearing a Ravenclaw scarf, 'You boys could do the opposite instead, " -- She gives Maya a knowing look -- " God knows some of us could use the advice, "
Maya shoves a roll into her mouth to shut her up.
"No - what the fuck - oh my God!!"
Maya shrieks in terror as they rise higher on his broom, the grounds of the castle growing smaller and smaller beneath them. Every vein in her body is alight with fear.
"Oh, shut your trap, " scoffs Draco Malfoy, "We're barely six feet up, "
She hates heights. She hates flying. She knows absolutely nothing about Quidditch. But what else can you do when a boy you like invites you out for an unintentionally romantic broom ride?
"If you drop me, I swear to God I will-"
"Yeah, yeah. I know, " he replies, sarcastically, arm tightening around her waist as she sits in front of him; Maya swears that she feels a horde of butterflies trapped in her stomach, "You'll come back as a ghost just so you can have the pleasure of murdering me. Don't worry, Rajesh. I'm not daft enough to drop you. The Gryffindors would scalp me if I managed to lose their precious warlock-"
"More like their resident crazy bitch but if you want to use nicer terms, go figure. " Maya states, sardonically, to which he chuckles into her hair. She is acutely aware of the lack of distance between them, pressed against each other on a broom with nowhere else to go. Every touch feels like electricity rippling across her skin, and Maya swallows, suddenly feeling a little nervous.
She really needs to get a grip on herself.
"I don't know, " He says, softly, gazing into the distance, "I think they're having a change of heart, after that article came out. Longbottom can't seem to look away from you, " His tone slightly hardens.
An inkling twists the gears interlocking in her brain, and Maya suddenly has a revelation.
"You're not jealous, are you?" Maya's certain he can hear the smirk in her voice, as Malfoy stiffens against her.
"Of him?" He questions, incredulous; Maya detects a faint hint of insecurity beneath the snark, "Why would I be?"
"Because he has my attention and you don't?" She quips, as he scoffs.
"Who says I needed your attention in the first place?"
"You seem to like it, as far as I can tell, " Maya drawls out. She feels a bit of pride at being able to rile him up so easily.
"You're delusional, Rajesh, " replies Malfoy, matter-of-factly. It's supposed to sound insulting, but only proves her point further.
"You just don't want to admit that I'm right, " she replies, smugly. He snorts.
"You're not even close to right about me, "
"Stop trying to make yourself sound all 'brooding' and 'mysterious', " Maya rolls her eyes, firing back at him with her air quptes, "We both know you're a giant sap, "
"I am not a sap-"
"Diana told me that you used to sleep with dragon stuffies until you were eleven, " Maya laughs as he groans, throwing his head back.
"I'm going to murder her, " The words grit through his teeth like sandpaper after a few moments. Maya snickers at his childish behaviour.
"Don't be embarrassed, " she says, slyly, as his grip tightens on the broom, "I thought it was cute, "
"Oh shut up, " he mutters, lowly.
"I bet you're blushing right now, " she teases, as he inhales sharply, clearly trying to restrain himself from knocking her off the broom.
"I don't know what you're talking about, " says Malfoy, nonchalantly.
"You're so predictable, Malfoy, " she scoffs, to which he gasps, offended, "It's painfully easy to rile you up. I almost feel bad for doing it, "
Maya knows that she's pissed him off on some level, as he deliberately adjusts his grip around her so that there's about an inch of space between them. But she's momentarily distracted by the gorgeous sunset around them. Yellows and pinks streak the clear sky, golden light streaming down onto the grass below. It's like something out of one of those postcards Nandini detests, available at almost any gift shop in New York. Maya wonders what her mother would think right now, if she saw her daughter on a broom with a boy whose family detests people like her-
"You may feel bad for riling me up, but I certainly won't regret this, " And then, he dives downwards.
Maya screams, full on screams in terror as they plummet to the ground in a sharp nosedive. Her body seizes with vertigo, the wind rushing so fast that her eyes start to tear up. There's outright fear in her veins, adrenaline leaching it's way through them as the grounds of Hogwarts rush past them.
She has never hated him more in her life.
"You - you - " Maya stutters, as he slows down, her toes brushing the tips of the grass as he slowly lowers them until they're coming to a stop, "You absolute wanker-"
"You should've seen your face, " he laughs, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Her feet touch the ground as he climbs off the broom. Maya is frozen with terror, slowly turning to face him as a furious glare decorates her face, "Merlin, I'm never going to forget this-"
Draco Malfoy doesn't get time to finish his sentence, however, as Maya leaps at him, the broom clattering to the ground. He runs away from at an inhuman speed, laughing as she pants after him, the sound echoing through the almost-empty courtyard.
"Malfoy -- get back here!!" she yells after him, her legs picking up their pace.
The smirk is evident in his voice as he retorts, "Try and catch me first, "
Maya struggles to keep up, her feet and calves burning as she tails after him. He's getting closer with each turn, and it's a few minutes later when she finally manages to pounce on him, tackling his larger body from behind.
There's a few moments in which they roll around in the grass, struggling to get a grip on one another. Maya almost exposes her tits a few times with the way her top rides up, and he keeps trying to throw her off, arms pushing at her waist. But it finally ends in a tussle of limbs, her knees by his thighs as she pins his arms to the ground with a gasp of effort, managing -- surprisingly -- to keep him there.
"Fuck you, " she pants out, chest heaving.
He raises an eyebrow, awfully cocky for someone who's just been body-slammed by a girl half his size, "Is that a threat or an invitation?"
Something suddenly changes in the air between them; Maya realizes that she's straddling his waist more intimately than she intended. Her left arm gives out, and she gasps, tumbling a little closer to the ground. Both of them pant as one of his arms still lays pinned under her, their breaths slowing down. Draco Malfoy stiffens as his eyes flit to her lips, and she freezes.
If Maya were to move a centimeter closer, her mouth would eclipse his.
"You're insufferable, " she manages to choke out, before clumsily climbing off of him, tumbling down to the grass on his left. Her heart is still pounding in her chest -- from adrenaline or his proximity, she doesn't know.
There's a few peaceful moments in which they both catch their breath.
Draco breaks the silence by laughing out, "But you still like me, "
Maya snorts. She glances at him, sprawled out onto the grass. His blonde hair shimmers as the sun hits it, eyes closed as an almost euphoric expression paints his features.
She does like him. A lot.
As they lock eyes again, only managing to keep a straight face for a few seconds before cracking up once more, Maya realizes that he'll be the death of her.
And she's not completely opposed to it.
The peaceful moment is broken as a buzz sounds for her phone. Maya fumbles for it in her front pocket, clumsily swiping at her screen and managing to type in her passcode. She cursed whichever dumbass decided to text her this time, but her previous annoyance melts away as she realizes that it's from Hermione, who almost exclusively talks to her only in person.
Something is very wrong.
"Entrance Hall, NOW!!"
Well shit.
Screams reverbate from above as Maya towards the stone steps leading up from the dungeons. When she reaches the top, Maya finds the Entrance Hall packed; students come flooding out of the Great Hall, where dinner is still in progress, to see what was going on; others cram themselves on to the marble staircase. Maua pushes forwards through a knot of tall Slytherins and sees that the onlookers had formed a great ring, some of them looking shocked, others even frightened.
Professor McGonagall is directly opposite Harry on the other side of the Hall; she looks as though what she's watching that makes her feel faintly sick. Professor Trelawney is standing in the middle of the Entrance Hall with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Her hair sticks up on end, her glasses are lopsided so that one eye is magnified more than the other; her innumerable shawls and scarves trail haphazardly from her shoulders, giving the impression that she is falling apart at the seams. Two large trunks lay on the floor beside her, one of them upside-down; it looks very much as though it has been thrown down the stairs after her.
Professor Trelawney is staring, apparently terrified, at something Maya cannot see but which seems to be standing at the foot of the stairs.
'No!' she shrieks. 'NO! This cannot be happening . . . it cannot . . . I refuse to accept it!'
'You didn't realise this was coming?' says a high girlish voice, sounding callously amused, and Maya, moving slightly to her right, sees that Trelawney's terrifying vision is nothing other than Professor Umbridge.
Of course.
'Incapable though you are of predicting even tomorrows weather, you must surely have realised that your pitiful performance during my inspections, and lack of any improvement, would make it inevitable that you would be sacked?'
'You c — can't!' howls Professor Trelawney, tears streaming down her face from behind her enormous lenses, 'you c — can't sack me! I've b — been here sixteen years! H — Hogwarts is m — my h — home!'
'It was your home,' says Professor Umbridge, and Maya wants to break her toad-like nose as she watches Professor Trelawney sink, sobbing uncontrollably, on to one of her trunks, 'until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic: countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us.'
But Umbridge stands and watches, with an expression of gloating enjoyment, as Professor Trelawney shudders and moanz, rocking backwards and forwards on her trunk in paroxysms of grief. Lavender and Parvati are both crying quietly, their arms round each other.
Then Maya hears footsteps. Professor McGonagall has broken away from the spectators, marched straight up to Professor Trelawney and is patting her firmly on the back while withdrawing a large handkerchief from within her robes. 'There, there, Sybill . . . calm down . . . blow your nose on this . . . it's not as bad as you think, now . . . you are not going to have to leave Hogwarts . . .'
'Oh really, Professor McGonagall?' says Umbridge in a deadly voice, taking a few steps forward. 'And your authority for that statement is . . . ?'
'That would be mine,' says a deep voice. The oaken front doors swing open. Students beside them scuttle out of the way as Dumbledore appears in the entrance. What he's been doing out in the grounds Maya can't imagine, but there's something impressive about the sight of him framed in the doorway against the setting sun.
Leaving the doors wide open behind him, he strides forwards through the circle of onlookers towards Professor Trelawney, tear-stained and trembling, on her trunk, Professor McGonagall alongside her.
'Yours, Professor Dumbledore?' says Umbridge, with a singularly unpleasant little laugh. 'I'm afraid you do not understand the position. I have here — ' she pulls a parchment scroll from within her robes'- an Order of Dismissal signed by myself and the Minister for Magic. Under the terms of Educational Decree Number Twenty-three, the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to inspect, place upon probation and sack any teacher, she — that is to say, I — feel is not performing to the standards required by the Ministry of Magic. I have decided that Professor Trelawney is not up to scratch. I have dismissed her.'
To Maya's very great surprise, Dumbledore continues to smile. He looks down at Professor Trelawney, who is still sobbing and choking on her trunk, and says, 'You are quite right, of course, Professor Umbridge. As High Inquisitor you have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. I am afraid,' he goes on, with a courteous little bow, 'that the power to do that still resides with the Headmaster, and it is my wish that Professor Trelawney con�tinue to live at Hogwarts.'
At this, Professor Trelawney gives a wild little laugh in which a hiccough is barely hidden. 'No — no, I'll g — go, Dumbledore! I sh — shall — leave Hogwarts and s — seek my fortune elsewhere — '
'No,' says Dumbledore sharply. 'It is my wish that you remain, Sybill: He turns to Professor McGonagall. 'Might I ask you to escort Sybill back upstairs, Professor McGonagall?'
'Of course,' says McGonagall. 'Up you get, Sybill . . .'
Professor Sprout comes hurrying forwards out of the crowd and grabs Professor Trelawney's other arm. Together, they guide her past Umbridge and up the marble stairs. Professor Flitwick goes scurrying after them, his wand held out before him; he squeaks 'Locomotor trunks!' and Professor Trelawney's luggage rises into the air and proceeds up the staircase after her, Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear.
Professor Umbridge is standing shock still, staring at Dumbledore, who continues to smile benignly.
'And what,' she says, in a whisper that carries all around the Entrance Hall, 'are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?'
'Oh, that won't be a problem,' says Dumbledore pleasantly. 'You see, I have already found us a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer lodgings on the ground floor.'
'You've found — ?' says Umbridge shrilly. 'You've found? Might I remind you, Dumbledore, that under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two — '
'The Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if — and only if — the Headmaster is unable to find one,' says Dumbledore. 'And I am happy to say that on this occasion I have succeeded. May I introduce you?'
He turns to face the open front doors, through which night mist is now drifting. Maya hears hooves.
What on earth -- ?
There's a shocked murmur around the Hall and those nearest the doors hastily move even further backwards, some of them tripping over in their haste to clear a path for the newcomer. Through the mist comes a face Maya doesn't recognize: white-blond hair and astonishingly blue eyes; the head and torso of a man joined to the palomino body of a horse.
'This is Firenze,' says Dumbledore happily. 'I think you'll find him suitable.'
Umbridge looks like she wants to disappear into her garishly pink robes.
Chapter 38: Chapter 38
Chapter Text
April 2016
As O.W.L season nears, the fifth years seem to crack from the pressure. Neville constantly fidgets, Terrence Higgs breaks out in boils, and Hannah Abbott is rushed out in the middle of class due to break down and crying that she's going to fail all eight of her O.W.Ls. Hermione lives in the library, barely emerging except for meals and a change of clothes, and Maya now spends her Friday nights revising Arithmancy and writing essays. Her brain is crammed to the brim with information, barely thinking about anything (or anyone) except making the upcoming exams her bitch.
They've finally started work on Patronuses, which take much, much more energy than she's anticipated. Maya's struggling to produce more than a wisp of silver, but it's almost the end of the month when she finally manages, a majestic lioness bursting out of her wand.
"Bloody hell . . . " Diana whispers, awestruck as she watches her doe gallop around the room.
"Bloody hell indeed . . . " Maya mutters, as her lioness gives a terrifying roar, startling Zacharias Smith, whose field mouse is currently being chased around the room by her Patronus .
Everybody has been very keen to practise, though, as Harry reminds them, producing a Patronus in the middle of a brightly lit classroom when they're not under threat is very different from producing it when confronted by something like a Dementor.
'Oh, don't be such a killjoy,' says Cho brightly, watching her silvery swan�shaped Patronus soar around the Room of Requirement during their last lesson before Easter, 'They're so pretty!'
'They're not supposed to be pretty, they're supposed to protect you,' says Harry patiently. 'What we really need is a Boggart or something; that's how I learned, I had to conjure a Patronus while the Boggart was pretending to be a Dementor — '
'But that would be really scary!' says Lavender, who's shooting puffs of silver vapour out of the end of her wand. 'And I still — 'can't — do it!' she adds angrily.
Neville's having trouble too. His face is screwed up in concentration, but only feeble wisps of silver smoke issue from his wand tip.
'You've got to think of something happy,' Harry reminds him.
'I'm trying,' says Neville miserably, who's trying so hard his round face is actually shining with sweat.
'Harry, I think I'm doing it!' yells Seamus, who has been brought along to his first ever DA meeting by Dean. 'Look — ah — 'it's gone . . . but it was definitely something hairy, Harry!'
Hermione's Patronus, a shining silver otter, is gambolling around her.
'They are sort of nice, aren't they?' she says, looking at it fondly.
The door of the Room of Requirement opens and closes. Maya whirls around to see who's entered, but there's no one's there. Everyone's gone unnervingly silent.
Suddenly, a small elf appears, tugging at Harry's robes and peering up at him from beneath his usual eight woolly hats.
'Hi, Dobby!' he says, alarmed. 'What are you — What's wrong?' The elf's eyes are wide with terror and he's shaking violently.
'The members of the DA closest to Harry have fallen silent; Diana watches him with something akin to horror. The few Patronuses people have managed to conjure fade away into silver mist, leaving the room looking much darker than before.
'Harry Potter, sir . . .' squeaks the elf, trembling from head to foot, 'Harry Potter, sir . . . Dobby has come to warn you . . . but the house-elves have been warned not to tell . . .'
He runs headfirst at the wall, attempting to punish himself, but Harry pulls him back just in time. Hermione and a few of the other girls let out squeaks of fear and sympathy.
'What's happened, Dobby?' Harry asks, grabbing the elf's tiny arm and holding him away from anything with which he might seek to hurt himself.
'Harry Potter . . . she . . . she . . .' Dobby hits himself hard on the nose with his free fist. Harry seizes that, too.
'Who's "she", Dobby?'
The elf looks up at him, slightly cross-eyed, and mouths wordlessly.
'Umbridge?' asks Harry, horrified.
"No!" Diana gasps, as Maya clutches onto her, horrified.
'Is she coming?' Harry asks quietly.
Dobby lets out a howl, and begins beating his bare feet hard on the floor.
'Yes, Harry Potter, yes!'
Harry straightens up and looks around at the motionless, terrified people gazing at the thrashing elf.
'WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?' Harry bellows. 'RUN!'
The entire room flies into chaos. People are screaming, running to get their things as Maya loses Diana, their previously interlocked fingers being torn apart in the tide of the crowd. She pushes and pulls, but to no avail. Their grip breaks, and Maya is left on her own, lost in the screaming crowd. Fear shoots through her as she bolts, leaping over a fallen pile of textbooks and dashing out of the room.
It is utter pandemonium outside.
Inquisitorial squad members are surrounding the area, shooting spells and curses at the fleeing students. Umbridge is screeching orders out, her short wand brandished Maya pulls her hood higher over her head as she inches away from the scene, trying to make herself as invisible as possible--
"Get her!!" Umbridge screams, pointing directly at Maya.
FUCK.
Some animalistic instinct takes over her in those few milliseconds. Maya bolts directly down a flight of stairs faster than she ever has before, her lungs working overtime to compensate for the very sudden increase in speed. A member of the Inquisitorial squad chases directly after her, casting curses that are definitely banned (but Maya doubts that Umbridge cares about her safety more than finally managing to land her in a trap). She fights just as hard back, countless jinxes and hexes leaving her fingertips, wand discarded somewhere back in the room--
Which makes her completely unprepared for what happens next.
"Incarcerous!!" yells the voice from behind her; she realizes with horror, that it's none other than Romilda Vane. A rope wraps around Maya's wrist and violently drags her backwards.
"Long time no see, Rajesh, " hisses the taller girl, grabbing a fistful of Maya's hair and yanking it into a death grip; Maya hisses, her eyes watering in pain. She claws at the rope binding her wrist, but it only pulls tighter, constricting the blood flow to her hand.
"Let me go, you bitch!!, " Maya snarls. Terror shoots through her as Romilda's grip turns tighter on her hair, the one arm wrapped around her waist pressing down so hard it forces all the air out of her lungs.
"Why should I?" the other girl challenges, snarling as Maya kicks her in the shin, "You're going to pay for what you did to me last year, "
Oh, she's really off her rocker.
"You mean bringing your ego down a peg?" Maya laughs, bitterly, "You deserved it for sending me that fucking potion, "
"Oh, I'm about to do a lot worse than just a few burns, " Romilda presses her wand hard into Maya's neck , "You're going to beg me to stop by the time I'm finished with you, "
"I'm never going to beg you for anything, Vane, " Maya spits out, venomously, "You're pathetic, "
"We'll see how pathetic I am when you're-"
Maya slams her head up hard into Romilda's jaw, making the taller girl choke and release her grip. She makes a move to run, but Romilda yells, enraged, slamming her into the floor with her body.
Oh, this bitch is going to get it.
Romilda tries to yank her hair back in an attempt to bash her head into the floor, but Maya anticipates the action just in time. She flips the both of them over with her entire body weight so that she's on top, her hands immediately pinning the other girl's arms above her head.
Maya frees one of her wrists just enough to crack her knuckles across the latter's face, Romilda hissing in pain as Maya's fist collides with her jaw. This is a bad move, however, Romilda manages to scratch Maya across her face with her free hand, distracting her and making it all-too-easy for the larger girl to flip them over once more.
They claw and scratch at each other like wild animals, feral cats battling in an alley. Maya screams as Romilda yanks open her flannel shirt, buttons flying everywhere and clattering along the stone floor. She retaliates by slamming her knee directly into Romilda's crotch; the other girl immediately seizes up, groaning, and Maya rolls off of her, standing up on shaky legs.
Wham! -- Romilda slams Maya so hard into the wall her vision goes black at the edges. The dizziness disorients her, but she luckily manages to land her fist into the other girl's stomach just in time. Romilda staggers, wavering as Maya grabs both of her arms, turning her around and slamming her face into the wall.
"Who's the pathetic one now?" Maya hisses into Romilda's ear, twisting her arm hard enough to make the Gryffindor yelp in pain, her cheek grinding against the stone. A strap of her black camisole falls down her shoulder. She doubts she's ever felt this victorious in her life.
"Get off her, Rajesh, or I will banish you from the grounds for life, " spits a cold, deep voice. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up in terror.
Why is it always Snape that catches her in the worst situations?
She looks behind her. Next to Snape, stands Draco Malfoy, a shell-shocked expression on his face as his hand wraps around Diana's arm. An 'Inquisitorial Squad' badge gleams on his robes.
Oh sweet Raziel.
The Headmaster's office is full of people, as Maya gets dragged in, seconds later. Dumbledore sits behind his desk, his expression serene, the tips of his long fingers together. Professor McGonagall stands rigidly beside him, her tense expression morphing into one of horror as she sees Maya's deranged state. Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic, rocks backwards and forwards on his toes beside the fire, apparently immensely pleased with the situation; Kingsley Shacklebolt and a tough-looking wizard with very short wiry hair whom Maya doesn't recognise, are positioned either side of the door like guards, and the freckled, bespectacled form of Percy Weasley hovers excitedly beside the wall, a quill and a heavy scroll of parchment in his hands, apparently poised to take notes.
The portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses aren't shamming sleep tonight. All of them are alert and serious, watching what's happening below them. Maya pulls herself free of Snape's grip as he glares daggers at her, rubbing her bruised arm in pain. Cornelius Fudge glares at her with vicious satisfaction.
'Well,' he says. 'Well, well, well . . .' Maya replies with her famous death glare. Her heart is running circles inside her chest, but her brain is oddly cool and clear.
'She was heading to the Library' says Snape, bored, "The Vane girl managed to wrangle her in time, "
'Did she?' says Fudge appreciatively. 'I must remember to tell Amanda. Well, Potter, Rajesh . . . I expect you know why you are here?'
Maya's about to reply with a begrudging yes, but out of the corner of her eye, she sees Harry move his head a fraction to each side.
"No, " They both reply, Maya arranging her features into a look of bewilderment.
'I beg your pardon?' says Fudge.
'No,' says Harry, firmly.
'You don t know why you are here?'
'No, I don't,' says Maya.
Fudge looks incredulously from Harry to Maya to Professor Umbridge. Harry gives her a tiny nod from the side.
'So you have no idea,' says Fudge, in a voice positively sagging with sarcasm, 'why Professor Umbridge has brought you all to this office? You are not aware that you have broken any school rules?'
'School rules?' says Harry. 'No.'
'Or Ministry Decrees?' amends Fudge angrily.
'What's going on?" Maya musters, with the most realistic confusion she can muster.
'So, it's news to you two, is it,' says Fudge, his voice now thick with anger, 'that an illegal student organisation has been discovered within this school?'
'Yes, it is,' says Harry, hoisting an unconvincing look of innocent surprise on to his face, at the same time Maya chokes out a shocked, "What?!"
'I think, Minister,' says Umbridge silkily from beside him, 'we might make better progress if I fetch our informant.'
'Yes, yes, do,' says Fudge, nodding, and he glances maliciously at Dumbledore as Umbridge leaves the room, 'There's nothing like a good witness, is there, Dumbledore?'
'Nothing at all, Cornelius,' says Dumbledore gravely, inclining his head.
There's a wait of several minutes, in which nobody looks at each other, then Maya hears the door open behind him. Umbridge moves past her into the room, gripping by the shoulder Cho's curly-haired friend, Marietta, who's hiding her face in her hands.
'Don't be scared, dear, don't be frightened,' says Professor Umbridge softly, patting her on the back, 'it's quite all right, now. You have done the right thing. The Minister is very pleased with you. He'll be telling your mother what a good girl you've been. Marietta's mother, Minister,' she adds, looking up at Fudge, 'is Madam Edgecombe from the Department of Magical Transportation, Floo Network office — she's been helping us police the Hogwarts lines, you know.'
'Jolly good, jolly good!' says Fudge heartily. 'Like mother, like daughter, eh? Well, come on, now, dear, look up, don't be shy, let's hear what you've got to — galloping gargoyles!'
As Marietta raises her head, Fudge leaps backwards in shock, nearly landing himself in the fire. He curses, and stamps on the hem of his cloak which has started to smoke. Marietta wails and pulls the neck of her robes right up to her eyes, but not before everyone has seen that her face is horribly disfigured by a series of close-set purple pustules that have spread across her nose and cheeks to form the word 'SNEAK'.
'Oh my God . . . . ' Diana breathes from behind her.
'Never mind the spots now, dear,' says Umbridge impatiently, 'just take your robes away from your mouth and tell the Minister — '
But Marietta gives another muffled wail and shakes her head frantically.
'Oh, very well, you silly girl, I'll tell him,' snaps Umbridge. She hitches her sickly smile back on to her face and says, 'Well, Minister, Miss Edgecombe here came to my office shortly after dinner this evening and told me she had something she wanted to tell me. She said that if I proceeded to a secret room on the seventh floor, sometimes known as the Room of Requirement, I would find out something to my advantage. I questioned her a little further and she admitted that there was to be some kind of meeting there. Unfortunately, at that point this hex,' she waves impatiently at Marietta's concealed face, 'came into operation and upon catching sight of her face in my mirror the girl became too distressed to tell me any more.'
'Well, now,' says Fudge, fixing Marietta with what he evidently imagines is a kind and fatherly look, 'it is very brave of you, my dear, coming to tell Professor Umbridge. You did exactly the right thing. Now, will you tell me what happened at this meeting? What was its purpose? Who was there?'
But Marietta does not speak; she merely shakes her head again, her eyes wide and fearful.
'Haven't we got a counter-jinx for this?' Fudge asks Umbridge impatiently, gesturing at Marietta's face. 'So she can speak freely?'
'I have not yet managed to find one,' Umbridge admits, grudgingly, and Maya feels grateful for Hermione's incredible spell work. 'But it doesn't matter if she won't speak, I can take up the story from here. 'You will remember, Minister, that I sent you a report back in October that Potter had met a number of fellow students in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade — '
'And what is your evidence for that?' cuts in Professor McGonagall.
'I have testimony from Willy Widdershins, Minerva, who happened to be in the bar at the time. He was heavily bandaged, it is true, but his hearing was quite unimpaired,' says Umbridge smugly 'He heard every word Potter said and hastened straight to the school to report to me — '
'Oh, so that's why he wasn't prosecuted for setting up all those regurgitating toilets!' says Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. 'What an interesting insight into our justice system!'
'Blatant corruption!' roars the portrait of the corpulent, red-nosed wizard on the wall behind Dumbledore's desk, 'The Ministry did not cut deals with petty criminals in my day, no sir, they did not!'
'Thank you, Fortescue, that will do,' says Dumbledore softly.
'The purpose of Potter’s meeting with these students,' continues Professor Umbridge, 'was to persuade them to join an illegal society, whose aim was to learn spells and curses the Ministry has decided are inappropriate for school-age — '
'I think you'll find you're wrong there, Dolores,' says Dumbledore quietly, peering at her over the half-moon spectacles perched halfway down his crooked nose. Maya and Harry look at each other in horror; if Willy Widdershins has indeed heard every word they've said in the Hog's Head, there is simply no escaping this.
'Oho!' says Fudge, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet again. 'Yes, do let's hear the latest cock-and-bull story designed to pull Potter out of trouble! Go on, then, Dumbledore, go on — Willy Widdershins was lying, was he? Or was it Potter's identical twin in the Hog's Head that day? Or is there the usual simple explanation involving a reversal of time, a dead man coming back to life and a couple of invisible Dementors?'
Percy Weasley lets out a hearty laugh. 'Oh, very good, Minister, very good!' Maya wants to hand his ass to him the way she did Romilda's.
To Maya's utter surprise, Dumbledore is smiling gently, too. 'Cornelius, I do not deny — and nor, I am sure, does Harry — 'that he was in the Hog's Head that day, nor that he was trying to recruit students to a Defence Against the Dark Arts group. I am merely pointing out that Dolores is quite wrong to suggest that such a group was, at that time, illegal. If you remember, the Ministry Decree banning all student societies was not put into effect until two days after Harry's Hogsmeade meeting, so he was not breaking any rules at all in the Hog's Head.'
Percy looks as though he's been struck in the face by something very heavy. Fudge remains motionless in mid-bounce, his mouth hanging open.
Umbridge recovers first. 'That's all very fine, Headmaster,' she says, smiling sweetly, 'but we are now nearly six months on from the introduction of Educational Decree Number Twenty-four. If the first meeting was not illegal, all those that have happened since most certainly are.'
'Well,' says Dumbledore, surveying her with polite interest over the top of his interlocked fingers, 'they certainly would be, if they had continued after the Decree came into effect. Do you have any evidence that any such meetings continued?'
'Evidence?' repeats Umbridge, with that horrible wide toad-like smile. 'Have you not been listening, Dumbledore? Why do you think Miss Edgecombe is here?'
'Oh, can she tell us about six months' worth of meetings?' says Dumbledore, raising his eyebrows. 'I was under the impression that she was merely reporting a meeting tonight.'
'Miss Edgecombe,' says Umbridge at once, 'tell us how long these meetings have been going on, dear. You can simply nod or shake your head, I'm sure that won't make the spots worse. Have they been happening regularly over the last six months?'
Maya's stomach sinks. This is it, they've hit a dead end of solid evidence that not even Dumbledore will be able to shift aside.
'Just nod or shake your head, dear,' Umbridge says coaxingly to Marietta, 'come on, now, that won't re-activate the jinx.'
Everyone in the room is gazing at the top of Marietta's face. Only her eyes are visible between the pulled-up robes and her curly fringe. Perhaps it's a trick of the firelight, but her eyes look oddly blank.
And then — to Maya's utter shock — Marietta shakes her head.
Umbridge looks quickly at Fudge, then back at Marietta. 'I don't think you understood the question, did you, dear? I'm asking whether you've been going to these meetings for the past six months? You have, haven't you?'
Again, Marietta shakes her head.
'What do you mean by shaking your head, dear?' says Umbridge in a testy voice.
'I would have thought her meaning was quite clear,' says Professor McGonagall harshly, 'there have been no secret meetings for the past six months. Is that correct, Miss Edgecombe?'
Marietta nods.
'But there was a meeting tonight!' says Umbridge furiously. There was a meeting, Miss Edgecombe, you told me about it, in the Room of Requirement! And Potter was the leader, was he not, Potter organised it, Potter — why are you shaking your head, girl?'
'Well, usually when a person shakes their head,' says McGonagall coldly, 'they mean "no". So unless Miss Edgecombe is using a form of sign-language as yet unknown to humans — '
Professor Umbridge seizes Marietta, pulls her round to face her and begins shaking her very hard. A split second later Dumbledore is on his feet, his wand raised; Kingsley starts forwards and Umbridge leaps back from Marietta, waving her hands in the air as though they have been burned.
'I cannot allow you to manhandle my students, Dolores,' says Dumbledore and, for the first time, he looks angry.
'You want to calm yourself, Madam Umbridge,' says Kingsley, in his deep, slow voice. 'You don't want to get yourself into trouble, now.'
'No,' says Umbridge breathlessly, glancing up at the towering figure of Kingsley. 'I mean, yes — you're right, Shacklebolt — I — I forgot myself.'
Marietta is standing exactly where Umbridge has released her. She seems neither perturbed by Umbridge's sudden attack, nor relieved by her release; she is still clutching her robe up to her oddly blank eyes and staring straight ahead of her. Dots of suspicion begin to form in Maya's mind, but she can't seem to connect them properly.
'Dolores,' says Fudge, with the air of trying to settle something once and for all, 'the meeting tonight — the one we know definitely happened — '
'Yes,' says Umbridge, pulling herself together, 'yes . . . well, Miss Edgecombe tipped me off and I proceeded at once to the seventh floor, accompanied by certain trustworthy students, so as to catch those in the meeting red-handed. It appears that they were forewarned of my arrival, however, because when we reached the seventh floor they were running in every direction. It does not matter, however. I have all their names here, Miss Parkinson ran into the Room of Requirement for me to see if they had left anything behind. We needed evidence and the room provided.'
And to Maya's utter horror, she withdraws from her pocket the list of names that have been pinned upon the Room of Requirement's wall and hands it to Fudge, 'The moment I saw Potter's name on the list, I knew what we were dealing with,' she says softly.
'Excellent,' says Fudge, a smile spreading across his face, 'excellent, Dolores. And . . . by thunder . . .' He looks up at Dumbledore, who is still standing beside Marietta, his wand held loosely in his hand.
'See what they've named themselves?' says Fudge quietly. 'Dumbledore's Army.'
Dumbledore reaches out and takes the piece of parchment from Fudge. He gazes at the heading scribbled by Hermione months before and for a moment seems unable to speak. Then he looks up, smiling.
'Well, the game is up,' he says simply. 'Would you like a written confession from me, Cornelius — or will a statement before these witnesses suffice?'
McGonagall and Kingsley look at each other. There is fear in both faces. Maya does not understand what is going on, and nor, apparently, does Fudge.
'Statement?' says Fudge slowly. 'What — I don't —
'Dumbledore's Army, Cornelius,' says Dumbledore, still smiling as he waves the list of names before Fudge's face. 'Not Potter's Army. Dumbledore's Army.' 'But — but — '
Understanding blazes suddenly in Fudge's face. He takes a horrified step backwards, yelps, and jumps out of the fire again.
'You?' he whispers, stamping again on his smouldering cloak.
'That's right,' says Dumbledore pleasantly.
'You organised this?'
'I did,' says Dumbledore.
'You recruited these students for — for your army?'
'Tonight was supposed to be the first meeting,' says Dumbledore, nodding.'Merely to see whether they would be interested in joining me. I see now that it was a mistake to invite Miss Edgecombe, of course.'
Marietta nods.
Fudge looks from her to Dumbledore, his chest swelling. 'Then you have been plotting against me!' he yells.
'That's right,' says Dumbledore cheerfully.
'NO!' shouts Harry. Maya stands there frozen with fear, barely registering what's going on, 'No — Professor Dumbledore — '!'
'Be quiet, Harry, or I am afraid you will have to leave my office,' says Dumbledore calmly.
No. No. This can't be happening. Maya's lungs tighten up until it feels like she's strangling herself. The world spins around her.
Fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-
She's really, really screwed everyone over this time.
'Yes, shut up, Potter!' barks Fudge, who is still ogling Dumbledore with a kind of horrified delight. 'Well, well, well — I came here tonight expecting to expel Potter and instead — '
'Instead you get to arrest me,' says Dumbledore, smiling. 'It's like losing a Knut and finding a Galleon, isn't it?'
No. No. No.
'Weasley!' cries Fudge, now positively quivering with delight, 'Weasley, have you written it all down, everything he's said, his confession, have you got it?'
'Yes, sir, I think so, sir!' says Percy eagerly, whose nose is splattered with ink from the speed of his note-taking. Maya wants to drive her fist straight into the bridge,
'The bit about how he's been trying to build up an army against the Ministry, how he's been working to destabilise me?'
'Yes, sir, I've got it, yes!' says Percy, scanning his notes joyfully.
'Very well, then,' says Fudge, now radiant with glee, 'duplicate your notes, Weasley, and send a copy to the Daily Prophet at once. If we send a fast owl we should make the morning edition!'
Percy dashes from the room, slamming the door behind him, and Fudge turns back to Dumbledore. 'You will now be escorted back to the Ministry, where you will be formally charged, then sent to Azkaban to await trial!'
Maya's nails dig into her palms so hard she feels the skin break and blood stain her fingertips. She wants to go back and murder her past self for agreeing to this whole botched plan in the first place.
Her common sense was clearly shoved far up her ass.
'Ah,' says Dumbledore gently, 'yes. Yes, I thought we might hit that little snag.'
'Snag?' says Fudge, his voice still vibrating with joy. 'I see no snag, Dumbledore!' '
Well,' says Dumbledore apologetically, 'I'm afraid I do.' 'Oh, really?' 'Well — it's just that you seem to be labouring under the delusion that I am going to — what is the phrase? — come quietly. I am afraid I am not going to come quietly at all, Cornelius. I have absolutely no intention of being sent to Azkaban. I could break out, of course — but what a waste of time, and frankly, I can think of a whole host of things I would rather be doing.'
Wait . . . what?
Umbridge's face is growing steadily redder; she looks as though she was being filled with boiling water. Fudge stares at Dumbledore with a very silly expression on his face, as though he's just been stunned by a sudden blow and can't quite believe it has happened. He makes a small choking noise, then looks round at Kingsley and the man with short grey hair, who alone of everyone in the room has remained entirely silent so far. The latter gives Fudge a reassuring nod and moved forwards a little, away from the wall. Maya sees his hand drift discreetly towards his pocket.
'Don't be silly, Dawlish,' says Dumbledore kindly. 'I'm sure you are an excellent Auror — I seem to remember that you achieved "Outstanding" in all your NEWTs — but if you attempt to — er — 'bring me in by force, I will have to hurt you.'
The man called Dawlish blinks rather foolishly. He looks towards Fudge again, but this time seems to be hoping for a clue as to what to do next.
'So,' sneers Fudge, recovering himself, 'you intend to take on Dawlish, Shacklebolt, Dolores and myself single-handed, do you, Dumbledore?'
'Merlin's beard, no,' says Dumbledore, smiling, 'not unless you are foolish enough to force me to.'
'He will not be single-handed!' says Professor McGonagall loudly, plunging her hand inside her robes.
'Oh yes he will, Minerva!' says Dumbledore sharply. 'Hogwarts needs you!'
'Enough of this rubbish!' says Fudge, pulling out his own wand. 'Dawlish! Shacklebolt! Take him!'
Sweet fucking Raziel.
A streak of silver light flashes around the room; there's a bang like a gunshot and the floor trembles; sending the bookshelves around Maya crashing to the floor. She whimpers in fear, trying to twist out of Snape's grip, when suddenly, someone pushes her hard to the wall, using their body to shield hers.
Something explodes, sending wreckage everywhere. People are yelling, someone screams 'No!' in terror, paper and ornaments fly around the room. Maya can't see anything through the dust, coughing as it gets into her lungs.
"Are you alright?" exclaims a familiar voice; Maya jolts as she feels a ringed hand brush her hair out of her face, "Maya, say something, come on . . . . "
You have to be kidding me.
Maya looks up in shock as the dust clears. Draco Malfoy's body is completely pressed against hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her smaller frame. Her self-preservation shuts down as she looks at him, a familiar hammering in her lower abdomen. An upturned bookshelf lies on the floor where she used to stand, double her size and sure to kill her if she hadn't moved.
"You -- you . . . saved my life, " Maya breathes out, slowly. His silver eyes bore into hers, " . . . why?, "
Draco looks at her with a type of incredulity that makes her heart race in her chest, "You would've died, Rajesh. I wasn't just going to leave you there, "
"But the same could've happened to you!" Maya gestures to the fallen bookshelf, wildly, still heavy and intimidating in it's disheveled state. Her chest is still heaving from adrenaline as she looks back up at him, noting the very, very short distance between their faces.
There's a sureness in his beautiful eyes as he looks at her, like he's about to make a big leap, "You do reckless things for the people you fancy. Even if it's risking your own neck to protect theirs, "
Maya's breath hitches.
He did not. He did not just voice the thing that's been plaguing her for weeks.
As Draco's eyes stay on hers, Maya has a very compelling thought.
Her life is already a Jackson Pollock. Why not let him paint her in his colours as well?
She leans in.
Draco is suddenly ripped away from her by Professor McGonagall.
Oh, for the love of Go-
The older woman leads her, Diana and Harry from the room by the arm, muttering nervous words under her breath. The Aurors frantically raze the room for Dumbledore; Fudge opens an old trunk as if he expects the old man to pop out of there any second. But all the chaos seems to have set her right, Maya's brain is still reeling from her previous, heat-of-the-moment decision
As the doors swing closed behind them, Maya hears Phineas Nigellus's voice. 'You know, Minister, I disagree with Dumbledore on many counts . . . but you cannot deny he's got style . . .'
And she has the shittiest timing in the world.
The toad in pink immediately wages war over them. '
Maya's actions invite harsh, harsh consequences. There are numerous letters sent to her mother, she's banned from Hogsmeade indefinitely and forced to write bloody lines in the Great Hall every day, along with the rest of everyone who was ever associated with the D.A. The words "I must keep my mouth shut, " are once again etched into the back of her right hand, with no amount of murtlap essence making the scars go away.
To say that Nandini is mad is an understatement. Actually, her mother isn't even mad, she's just shocked that her do-gooder daughter would even do such a thing. Maya semi-agrees with her; it was stupid of her to join an illegal defense group when she knew that Umbridge had it out for her. Her undecided punishment will probably slap her in the face when she gets home, but it's Jem's views she's concerned about the most. According to him, "Actions have consequences, but sometimes we need to do the wrong things for the right causes, "
In essence, keep your head down, stop being a smartass, and don't give the new (incompetent) Headmistress a reason to kick you out of Hogwarts before you've completed your O levels.
Maya does as he says. She's quiet in class, goes to detention and basically deprives herself of any joy she used to have. The majority of her time is spent in her room, revising for her exams, watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine and working on her submission, which is nearing completion considering the deadline is in a week. Maya focuses on what little things she can control, focusing her mind on surviving the one and a half months she has left of her fifth year.
And definitely not thinking about a certain someone she tried to kiss after Dumbledore atom-bombed his office.
A few weeks after the whole D.A. scandal, Professor McGonagall invites her and the rest of the fifth years individually to sit for career meetings, during which they discuss whether their grades mean anything in the real world. However, when Maya reaches hers, she finds none other than Professor Umbridge sitting with her clipboard in the corner, jotting down notes in that sly way of hers.
That smooth motherfucker-
'Sit down, Rajesh' says Professor McGonagall tersely. Her hands shake slightly as she shuffles the many pamphlets littering her desk. Maya sits with her back to Umbridge and deeply resists the urge to march over to her and break the quill.
''Well, Rajesh this meeting is to talk over any career ideas you might have, and to help you decide which subjects you should continue into the sixth and seventh years,' says Professor McGonagall. 'Have you had any thoughts about what you would like to do after you leave Hogwarts?'
'I want to do something writing-based, ' Maya answers, 'Journalism is my first choice, '
'That's an extremely competitive field,' says Professor McGonagall, extracting a small, blue leaflet from under the mass on her desk and handing it to Maya, 'You need to be extremely dedicated and show that you have something to contribute to the media. Employers will want to see that you've taken challenging classes, which, judging by your course load, is clearly no problem for you. Your writing skills are also up to par, judging by the essays you've turned in to me, "
At this moment, Professor Umbridge gives a very tiny cough, as though she's trying to see how quietly she could do it. Professor McGonagall ignores her. 'You'll want to know which subjects you ought to take, I suppose?' she goes on, talking a little louder than before.
'Yes,' says Maya, 'I've heard people say that you need about five N.E.W.Ts?'
'Naturally,' says Professor McGonagall crisply. ' Your options are very open, but it's best to take mostly Humanities, such as AP History Of Magic or Psychology, which will be available from next year. I would also recommend AP Transfiguration, as well as Defense against the Dark Arts —'
Professor Umbridge gives another cough, a little more audible this time. Professor McGonagall closes her eyes for a moment, opens them again, and continues as though nothing has happened. 'Then you could also pick between Charms or Potions for your final subjects, though I would recommend Potions, as learning how to make them can prove extremely valuable when you're in the field. Professor Snape only accepts students who get 'Outstanding' in their O.W.Ls into his Potions class, but your marks have been satisfactory thus far—'
Professor Umbridge gives her most pronounced cough yet.
'May I offer you a cough drop, Dolores?' Professor McGonagall asks curtly, without looking at Professor Umbridge.
'Oh, no, thank you very much,' says Umbridge, with that simpering laugh Maya wants to erase from her memory. 'I just wondered whether I could make the teensiest interruption, Minerva?'
'I daresay you'll find you can,' says Professor McGonagall through tightly gritted teeth.
'I was just wondering whether Ms. Rajesh has quite the temperament for a journalist?' says Professor Umbridge sweetly.
'Were you?' says Professor McGonagall haughtily. 'Well, Rajesh,' she continues, as though there has been no interruption, 'If you are serious in this ambition, I would advise you to concentrate hard on bringing your Arithmancy grades up to scratch, as they've been straying off into "Acceptable" this year. Even if you're not taking it as a N.E.W.T, it's best to have an 'Exceeds Expectations' on your report card if you want to be considered by higher-up muggle universities. You mentioned Columbia to me earlier?"
"Yes, " Maya sighs, relieved, "I have a few other options, but Columbia is at the top of my list, "
"Yes, well, it is an extremely selective institution, " McGonagall sighs, "There's no issue with your academics, but I would suggest increasing your volume of extracurriculars if you're serious about applying. Look for internships this summer if you can, alongside community service or some other good cause. As for Defence Against the Dark Arts, your marks have been generally good— are you quite sure you wouldn't like a cough drop, Dolores?'
'Oh, no need, thank you, Minerva,' simpers Professor Umbridge, who has just coughed her loudest yet. 'I was just concerned that you might not have Maya's most recent Defence Against the Dark Arts marks in front of you. I'm quite sure I slipped in a note.'
'What, this thing?' says Professor McGonagall in a tone of revulsion, as she pulls a sheet of pink parchment from between the leaves of Maya's folder. She glances down it, her eyebrows slightly raised, then places it back into the folder without comment. 'Yes, as I was saying, Rajesh, you proved yourself more than capable last year, and Defence is a very useful skill as a journalist — '
'Did you not understand my note, Minerva?' asks Professor Umbridge in honeyed tones, quite forgetting to cough.
'Of course I understood it,' says Professor McGonagall, her teeth clenched so tightly the words come out a little muffled.
'Well, then, I am confused . . . I'm afraid I don't quite understand how you can give Ms Rajesh false hope that — '
'False hope?' repeats Professor McGonagall, still refusing to look round at Professor Umbridge. 'She has achieved high marks in all her Defence Against the Dark Arts practicals— '
'I'm terribly sorry to have to contradict you, Minerva, but as you will see from my note, Harry has been achieving very poor results in his classes with me — '
'I should have made my meaning plainer,' says Professor McGonagall, turning at last to look Umbridge directly in the eyes. 'She has achieved high marks in all Defence Against the Dark Arts assessments set by a competent teacher.'
Oh.
Oh no.
Professor Umbridge's smile vanishes as suddenly as a light bulb blowing. She sits back in her chair, turns a sheet on her clipboard and begins scribbling very fast indeed, her bulging eyes rolling from side to side.
Professor McGonagall turned back to Harry, her thin nostrils flared, her eyes burning. 'Any questions, Rajesh?'
'Will I have to take the SAT along with my N.E.W.Ts, or will my qualifications carry over to the US?" Maya questions, trying to ignore Umbridge's glare.
"Just your N.E.W.Ts will be fine, " McGonagall gives a dismissive wave, "But as I was saying before, you will be considered an international student with our curriculum, so you must submit your application with extensive extracurriculars. At Hogwarts, we have a variety of clubs and I think you'll find-"
'I think you'll also find,' says Umbridge, her voice very cold now, 'that the Ministry looks into the records of those applying to be journalists. Their familial records.'
'— entering essay and writing competitions could help, as the admissions officers will want to see that you can breeze through a competitive environment with ease — '
'Which means that this girl has as much chance of becoming a journalist as Dumbledore has of ever returning to this school.'
'A very good chance, then,' says Professor McGonagall.
'Rajesh is a princess of Hell,' says Umbridge loudly.
'Rajesh is also a fifteen-year-old girl,' says McGonagall, even more loudly.
Professor Umbridge stands up. She is so short (even more so than Maya, who is a petite 5'2) that this does not make a great deal of difference, but her fussy, simpering demeanour has given place to a hard fury that makes her broad, flabby face look oddly sinister. 'Rajesh has no chance whatsoever of becoming an journalist!'
Professor McGonagall gets to her feet, too, and in her case this is a much more impressive move: being taller than even Nandini, she towers over Professor Umbridge.
'Rajesh,' she says in ringing tones, 'I will assist you to become an journalist if it is the last thing I do! If I have to coach you nightly, I will make sure you achieve the required results!'
'The Minister for Magic will never employ Maya Rajesh!' says Umbridge, her voice rising furiously.
'There may well be a new Minister for Magic by the time Rajesh is ready to join!' shouts Professor McGonagall.
'Aha!, ' shrieks Professor Umbridge, pointing a stubby finger at McGonagall. 'Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Of course! That's what you want, isn't it, Minerva McGonagall? You want Cornelius Fudge replaced by Albus Dumbledore! You think you'll be where I am, don't you: Senior Undersecretary to the Minister and Headmistress to boot!'
'You are raving,' says Professor McGonagall, superbly disdainful, "Rajesh, that concludes our careers consultation.'
Maya swings her bag over her shoulder and bolts from her room . She can hear them screaming at each other from down the hallway.
If Maya ever gets into an Ivy League, the first person she'll thank is Umbridge. For being so confident of a rejection that Maya had absolutely no choice but to prove her wrong out of sheer spite.
That would be an interesting villain origin story.
Chapter 39: Chapter 39
Chapter Text
June 2016
June arrives, but to fifth-years like Maya and Harry, this means only one thing: their OWLs are upon them at last.
Their teachers are no longer setting them homework; lessons are devoted to revising those topics the teachers think most likely to come up in the exams. The purposeful, feverish atmosphere drives nearly everything but the OWLs from Maya's mind, and for good reason, too. Her revision is abundant, Maya finds herself waking up at five every weekday to cram a few dozen Arithmancy formulas before her classes start. It doesn't matter if she's allowed to go to Hogsmeade or not, Maya doesn't even want to, with the amount of mocks throughout the week, she's genuinely spending all her free time studying. Hermione is even worse; she's completely stopped knitting clothes for the elves.
But her curly-haired friend is not the only person acting oddly as the OWLs draw steadily nearer. Ernie Macmillan has developed an irritating habit of interrogating people about their revision practices.
'How many hours d'you think you're doing a day?' he demands of Harry and Ron as they queue outside Herbology, a manic gleam in his eyes.
'I dunno,' says Ron. 'A few.'
'More or less than eight?'
'Less, I s'pose,' says Ron, looking slightly alarmed.
'You, Maya?' demands Ernie, startling Maya, who's scrolling through e-mails on her phone, waiting to see one from 'Vox Angelus'. She sent in her essay last week (finally!). The results aren't supposed to come out until after exams, but one can only dare to hope . . .
"I don't know, about seven, I think?" She replies, shrugging, "I don't really count but I do about the entire day during weekends, "
'I'm doing eight,' says Ernie, puffing out his chest. 'Eight or nine. I'm getting an hour in before breakfast every day. Eights my average. I can do ten on a good weekend day. I did nine and a half on Monday. Not so good on Tuesday — only seven and a quarter. Then on Wednesday — '
At that moment, Professor Sprout thankfully ushers them into greenhouse three at that point, forcing Ernie to abandon his recital. Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy has found a different way to induce panic.
'Of course, it's not what you know,' Maya hears him tell Crabbe and Goyle loudly outside Potions a few days before the exams are to start, 'it's who you know. Now, Father's been friendly with the head of the Wizarding Examinations Authority for years — old Griselda Marchbanks — we've had her round for dinner and everything . . .'
'Do you think that's true?' Hermione whispers in alarm to Harry and Ron.
'It's about as likely as Harry being good with girls, ' Maya snorts. Harry glares at her and she gives his shoulder a friendly punch, 'Lighten up, Romeo, you know I was joking, '
'Nothing we can do about it if it is,' says Ron gloomily.
'I don't think it's true,' says Neville quietly from behind them. 'Because Griselda Marchbanks is a friend of my gran's, and she's never mentioned the Malfoy's.'
'And she's never come over to our house, either, ' Diana pipes up, suddenly joining them. She wraps an arm around Maya's shoulders as the smaller girl frowns, 'I don't know what my brother was on about, but you'd do best not to believe his crap, '
'Where were you?' Maya questions, 'I never see you come back to our dorm anymore, '
'Oh, I was helping Luna paint her bedroom ceiling, ' Diana says, nonchalantly, looking at her silver-painted nails, 'She needs help finishing up her constellations, '
'You sure that's all you were doing?' questions Ron, suspiciously, as Diana turns an embarassing red.
'Oh for the love of God-'
'What's she like, Neville?' asks Hermione at once, conveniently changing the subject. 'Is she strict?'
'Bit like Gran, really,' says Neville in a subdued voice.
'Knowing her won't hurt your chances, though, will it?' Ron tells him encouragingly.
'Oh, I don't think it will make any difference,' says Neville, still more miserably. 'Gran's always telling Professor Marchbanks I'm not as good as my dad . . . well . . . you saw what she's like at St Mungo's, ' Neville looks fixedly at the floor. Harry, Ron and Hermione glances at each other, but don't seem to know know what to say. It is the first time Neville has acknowledged that they had met at the wizarding hospital.
Meanwhile, a flourishing black-market trade in aids to concentration, mental agility and wakefulness has sprung up among the fifth- and seventh-years. Harry and Ron are much tempted by the bottle of Baruffio's Brain Elixir offered to them by Ravenclaw sixth-year Eddie Carmichael, who swears it is solely responsible for the nine 'Outstanding' OWLs he gained the previous summer and is offering a whole pint for a mere twelve Galleons. Ron assures Harry he will reimburse him for his half the moment he leaves Hogwarts and gets a job, but before they can close the deal, Hermione confiscates the bottle from Carmichael and pours the contents down a toilet.
'Hermione, we wanted to buy that!' shouts Ron.
'Don't be stupid,' she snarls. 'You might as well take Harold Dingle's powdered dragon claw and have done with it.'
'Dingle's got powdered dragon claw?' says Ron eagerly.
'Not any more,' says Hermione. 'I confiscated that, too. None of these things actually work, you know.'
'Dragon claw does work!' says Ron. 'It's supposed to be incredible, really gives your brain a boost, you come over all cunning for a few hours — Hermione, let me have a pinch, go on, it can't hurt — '
'Why don't you just snort cocaine while you're at it?' Maya questions, bored, as she looks through her Arithmancy formula notes, preparing for her final mock.
'This stuff can,' says Hermione grimly. 'I've had a look at it, and it's actually dried Doxy droppings.'
This information takes the edge off Harry and Ron's desire for brain stimulants. They receive their examination timetables and details of the procedure for OWLs during their next Transfiguration lesson.
'As you can see,' Professor McGonagall tells the class as they copy down the dates and times of their exams from the blackboard, 'your OWLs are spread over two successive weeks. You will sit the theory papers in the mornings and the practice in the afternoons. Your practical Astronomy examination will, of course, take place at night. Now, I must warn you that the most stringent anti-cheating charms have been applied to your examination papers. Auto-Answer Quills are banned from the examination hall, as are Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs and Self-Correcting Ink. Every year, I am afraid to say, seems to harbour at least one student who thinks that he or she can get around the Wizarding Examinations Authority's rules. I can only hope that it is nobody in Gryffindor. Our new — Headmistress — ' Professor McGonagall pronounces the word with the same look on her face that Magnus has whenever Church gets cat hair on one of his velvet jackets, '- has asked the Heads of House to tell their students that cheating will be punished most severely — because, of course, your examination results will reflect upon the Headmistress's new regime at the school — ' Professor McGonagall gives a tiny sigh, ' — however, that is no reason not to do your very best. You have your own futures to think about.'
'Please, Professor,' says Hermione, her hand in the air, 'when will we find out our results?'
'An owl will be sent to you some time in July,' says Professor McGonagall.
'Excellent,' says Dean Thomas in an audible whisper, 'so we don't have to worry about it till the holidays.'
Maya imagines waiting for her results in their Manhattan townhouse, Nandini just as nervous as her. Her mother keeps texting her words of encouragement to not worry, 'You can always just take the SAT here and be done with it! No more stupid Hogwarts!'
None of the fifth-years talk very much at breakfast next day, either Padma or Parvati is practising incantations under her breath while the salt cellar in front of her twitches; Hermione is rereading Achievements in Charming so fast that her eyes appear blurred; and Neville keeps dropping his knife and fork and knocking over the marmalade. Maya just manages to choke down a mug of sweetened coffee, her stomach too unsettled to even think about putting food in it.
She prays that she doesn't puke in the middle of her exam.
Once breakfast is over, the fifth- and seventh-years mill around in the Entrance Hall while the other students go off to lessons; then, at half past nine, they are called forwards class by class to re-enter the Great Hall. The four house tables have been removed and replaced instead with many tables for one, all facing the staff-table end of the Hall where Professor McGonagall stands facing them.
When they are all seated and quiet, she says, 'You may begin,' and turns over an enormous hour-glass on the desk beside her, on which there are also spare quills, ink bottles and rolls of parchment.
Maya takes a deep breath and turns over her Charms paper.
Here goes nothing.
Her exams go as well as they can be. Herbology is easy, as usual; naming and classifying plants are a piece of cake and Maya can recite the uses of monkshood and bloodroot by heart. Transfiguration is a little harder; Maya barely manages to change her mouse into a teacup due to the fact that the examiner keeps sneaking glances at Harry, as if to reassure himself that he is, indeed, standing in front of 'The Chosen One'. But it's Arithmancy that bothers her most; graphs are a pain and Maya's sure that she's somehow screwed up the quadratic formula.
The Astronomy theory paper on Wednesday morning goes well enough. Maya manages to name all of Jupiter's moons and gets through all the multiple choice questions with ease. They have to wait until evening for their practical Astronomy; the afternoon is devoted instead to Divination, which is the trickiest one of the lot. The crystal ball is completely blank, the rancid smell of the tea leaves completely overpowers their meaning and Maya's palm reading is suspicious at best.
'Well, we were always going to fail that one,' says Ron gloomily as they ascend the marble staircase. He has just made Harry and Maya feel rather better by telling them how he had told the examiner in detail about the ugly man with a wart on his nose in his crystal ball, only to look up and realise he had been describing his examiner's reflection.
'We shouldn't have taken the stupid subject in the first place,' says Harry. 'Still, at least we can give it up now. No more pretending we care what happens when Jupiter and Uranus get too friendly.'
'And from now on, I don't care if my tea-leaves spell die, Ron, die — I'm just chucking them in the bin where they belong.' Maya snorts just as Hermione comes running up behind them. Harry stops laughing at once, in case it annoys her.
'Well, I think I've done all right in Arithmancy,' she says, and Harry and Ron both sigh with relief. 'Just time for a quick look over our star-charts before dinner, then . . .'
When they reach the top of the Astronomy Tower at eleven o'clock, they find a perfect night for stargazing, cloudless and still. The grounds are bathed in silvery moonlight and there is a slight chill in the air. Each of them sets up his or her telescope and, when Professor Marchbanks gives the word, proceeds to fill in the blank star-chart they had been given. Professors Marchbanks and Tofty stroll among them, watching as they enter the precise positions of the stars and planets they are observing. All is quiet except for the rustle of parchment, the occasional creak of a telescope as it is adjusted on its stand, and the scribbling of many quills. Half an hour passes, then an hour; the little squares of reflected gold light flickering on the: ground below start to vanish as lights in the castle windows are extinguished.
As Maya completes the constellation Draco (definitely not thinking about the real-life person behind the name) on her chart, however, the front doors of the castle open directly below the parapet where she's standing, so that light spills down the stone steps a little way across the lawn. Maya glances down as she makes a slight adjustment to the position of her telescope and sees five or six elongated shadows moving over the brightly lit grass before the doors swing shut and the lawn becomes a sea of darkness once more.
Maya puts her eyes back to her telescope and refocuses it, now examining Venus. She looks down at her chart to enter the planet there, but something distracts her; pausing with his quill suspended over the parchment, Maya squints down into the shadowy grounds and sees half a dozen figures walking over the lawn. If they were not moving, and the moonlight has not been gilding the tops of their heads, they would have been indistinguishable from the dark ground on which they walk. Even at this distance, Maya has a funny feeling that she recognises the walk of the squattest of them, who seems to be leading the group. She can't think why Umbridge would be taking a stroll outside after midnight, much less accompanied by five others. Then somebody coughs behind him, and Maya remembers that she's halfway through an exam.
Professor Tofty gives another dry little cough,, 'Try and concentrate, now, boys and girls,' he says softly. Most people return to their telescopes. Hermione is gazing transfixed at Hagrid's cabin. 'Twenty minutes to go,' Maya sighs, and quickly scribbles down the rest of her star chart. She's on the last question when . . .
There's a loud BANG from the grounds. Several people cry 'Ouch!' when they poke themselves in the face with the ends of their telescopes as they hasten to see what was going on below. Hagrid's door has burst open and by the light flooding out of the cabin they see him quite clearly, a massive figure roaring and brandishing his fists, surrounded by six people, all of whom, judging by the tiny threads of red light they are casting in his direction, seem to be attempting to Stun him.
'No!' cries Hermione. 'My dear!' says Professor Tofty in a scandalised voice. This is an examination!'
But nobody is paying the slightest attention to their star-charts any more. Jets of red light are still flying about beside Hagrid's cabin, yet somehow they seem to be bouncing off him; he is still upright and still, as far as Maya can see, fighting. Cries and yells echoe across the grounds; a man yells, 'Be reasonable, Hagrid!'
Hagrid roars, 'Reasonable be damned, yeh won' take me like this, Dawlish!'
Maya can see the tiny outline of Fang, attempting to defend Hagrid, leaping repeatedly at the wizards surrounding him until a Stunning Spell catches him and he falls to the ground. Hagrid gives a howl of fury, lifts the culprit bodily from the ground and throws him; the man flies what looks like ten feet and does not get up again.
Hermione gasps, both hands over her mouth; Maya looks round at Ron and saw that he, too, is looking scared. None of them have ever seen Hagrid in a real temper before.
'Look!' squeals Parvati, who is leaning over the parapet and pointing to the foot of the castle, where the front doors have opened again; more light is spilling out on to the dark lawn and a single long black shadow is now rippling across the lawn.
'Now, really!' says Professor Tofty anxiously. 'Only sixteen minutes left, you know!' But nobody pays him the slightest attention: they are watching the person now sprinting towards the battle beside Hagrid's cabin.
'How dare you!' the figure shouts as she runs. 'How dare you!'
'It's McGonagall!' whispers Hermione.
'Leave him alone! Alone, I say!' says Professor McGonagall's voice through the darkness. 'On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing, nothing to warrant such — ' H
Hermione, Maya Parvati and Lavender all scream. The figures around the cabin have shot no fewer than four Stunners at Professor McGonagall. Halfway between cabin and castle the red beams collide with her; for a moment she looks luminous and glows an eerie red, then she lifts right off her feet, lands hard on her back, and moves no more.
'Galloping gargoyles!' shouts Professor Tofty, who also seems to have forgotten the exam completely. 'Not so much as a warning! Outrageous behaviour!'
'COWARDS!' bellows Hagrid; his voice carries clearly to the top of the tower, and several lights flicker back on inside the castle. 'RUDDY COWARDS! HAVE SOME O' THAT — AN' THAT — '
'Oh my — ' gasps Hermione. Hagrid takes two massive swipes at his closest attackers; judging by their immediate collapse, they have been knocked cold. Maya sees Hagrid double over, and thinks he has finally been overcome by a spell.
But, on the contrary, next moment Hagrid is standing again with what appears to be a sack on his back — then Maya realises that Fang's limp body is draped around his shoulders.
'Get him, get him!' screams Umbridge, but her remaining helper seems highly reluctant to go within reach of Hagrid's fists; indeed, he is backing away so fast he trips over one of his unconscious colleagues and falls over. Hagrid has turned and began to run with Fang still hung around his neck. Umbridge sends one last Stunning Spell after him but it misses; and Hagrid, running full-pelt towards the distant gates, disappears into the darkness.
There is a long minute's quivering silence as everybody gazes open-mouthed into the grounds.
Then Professor Tofty's voice said feebly, 'Um . . . five minutes to go, everybody.'
Maya rolls up her parchment and hands it to Tofty. For once, the exams are the back of her mind.
What the hell is going on?!
On Friday, the fifth-years enter the Great Hall at two o'clock for their last exam, and take their places in front of their face-down papers.
Maya is utterly exhausted, but at the same time relieved. Her months of studying and sleep deprivation are all about to pay off. She thinks of the next day, probably back in New York. Going to San Diego with her friends, seeing her mom for the first time in six months, thanking Jem for everything he's done to help her.
And if time (and her sanity) permits, maybe clearing things up with a certain someone whose constellation she was watching last night.
'Turn over your papers,' says Professor Marchbanks from the front of the Hall, flicking over the giant hour-glass. 'You may begin '
Maya sighs and begins her exam paper. The first questions are easy, just multiple choice and names and dates. But she starts having trouble when it comes to the shorter answers (In your opinion, did wand legislation contribute to, or lead to better control of, goblin riots of the eighteenth century?). Maya's well-versed in the fine art of bullshitting, but a nagging sense of suspicion pervades even as she scribbles down what she thinks is a correct answer. History is a factual subject. How far can lying get you?
Well not lying, really. More like glossing over actual facts because you don't know what the fuck happened to eastern Europe back in 1678.
Anyways, the sun is well past it's shadow by the time Maya manages to finish her exam. She hands it in with a certain sense of foreboding. Hermione left about half an hour before her, confidentially walking up to Professor Marchbanks and handing in her paper like it was the easiest thing on earth. Maya's sure she has to be on cocaine or at least dangerously overcaffeinated.
No one looks that happy on exam day.
Or maybe she's just too sleep-deprived to be able to think straight.
Maya packs her things, stowing her quills inside her pencil case and vanishing the shavings from her desk. She thinks of her warm, four-poster bed back in her dorm, with a fluffy quilt and pillows that feel as though they're made of clouds. A nap would be very, very nice right now . . . . . and maybe, if she's lucky, the wi-fi will decide to work and Maya will finally be able to finish Brooklyn Nine-Nine-
Oh, who is she kidding? With how slow the internet is, she'll be asleep before the Netflix logo even loads.
Suddenly, Maya hears a 'thump' from the row next to her. There's a commotion from the front desk; Professor Marchbanks has rushed out of her seat and across the room. She looks behind her.
Harry lies on the stone floor, curled up in a ball. He groans, hands clutching his scar.
Well, this isn't good.
Chapter 40: Chapter 40
Chapter Text
June 2016
No, Harry, has in fact, not suffered a premature brain aneurysm.
Apparently, when he fell asleep during the exam, it wasn't because he was chronically sleep-deprived and had zero fucks to give, like the rest of them. Harry saw things. Like, Divination, prophet, seer-type saw things. According to him, Voldemort has taken Sirius prisoner, holding him in the Department of Mysteries. The older boy is hysterical, pacing around the classroom as Ron and Hermione try to calm him down.
It's not that Maya doesn't believe him, it's just that the timing of this is a little too coincidental to be normal. With everything going on with Umbridge and Azkaban's mass breakout, Harry's vision seems more like a trap than a plea for help.
There's a moment's silence as they all take his words in, Maya not knowing what to say. Then Ron says, 'G-get there?'
'Get to the Department of Mysteries, so we can rescue Sirius!' Harry says loudly.
'But — Harry . . .' says Ron weakly.
'What? What?' says Harry, breathing heavily. He doesn't seem to realize what's coming out of his mouth.
'Harry,' says Hermione in a rather frightened voice, 'er . . . how . . . how did Voldemort get into the Ministry of Magic without anybody realising he was there?'
'How do I know?' bellows Harry, 'The question is how we're going to get in there!'
'But . . . Harry, think about this,' says Hermione, taking a step towards him, 'its five o'clock in the afternoon . . . the Ministry of Magic must be full of workers . . . how would Voldemort and Sirius have got in without being seen? Harry . . . they're probably the two most wanted wizards in the world . . . you think they could get into a building full of Aurors undetected?'
'I dunno, Voldemort used an Invisibility Cloak or something!' Harry shouts 'Anyway, the Department of Mysteries has always been completely empty whenever I've been — '
'You've never been there, Harry,' says Hermione quietly. 'You've dreamed about the place, that's all.'
'They're not normal dreams!' Harry shouts in her face, standing up and taking a step closer to her in turn. 'How d'you explain Ron's dad then, what was all that about, how come I knew what had happened to him?'
'He's got a point,' says Ron quietly, looking at Hermione.
'But this is just — just so unlikely!' says Hermione desperately. 'Harry, how on earth could Voldemort have got hold of Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place all the time?'
'Sirius might've cracked and just wanted some fresh air,' says Ron, sounding worried. 'He's been desperate to get out of that house for ages —
'But why,' Hermione persists, 'why on earth would Voldemort want to use Sirius to get the weapon, or whatever the thing is?'
'I dunno, there could be loads of reasons!' Harry yells at her. 'Maybe Sirius is just someone Voldemort doesn't care about seeing hurt — '
'You know what, I've just thought of something,' says Ron in a hushed voice. 'Sirius's brother was a Death Eater, wasn't he? Maybe he told Sirius the secret of how to get the weapon!'
'Yeah — and that's why Dumbledore's been so keen to keep Sirius locked up all the time!' says Harry.
'Look, I'm sorry,' cries Hermione, 'but neither of you are making sense, and we've got no proof for any of this, no proof Voldemort and Sirius are even there — '
'Exactly!' Maya laments, 'This is a set-up!'
'Hermione, Maya, Harry's seen them!' says Ron, rounding on them. Maya backs up so he isn't in her face anymore.
'OK,' says Hermione, looking frightened yet determined, 'I've just got to say this — '
'What?'
'You . . . this isn't a criticism, Harry! But you do . . . sort of . . . I mean — don't you think you've got a bit of a — a — saving-people thing?' she says.
He glares at her. 'And what's that supposed to mean, a "saving-people thing"?'
Maya takes a deep breath, wondering whether she should actually say this out loud, 'Harry, she's saying that you have a minor savior complex,
Hermione looks more apprehensive than ever. 'I mean . . . last year, for instance . . . in the lake . . . during the Tournament . . . you shouldn't have . . . I mean, you didn't need to save that little Delacour girl . . . you got a bit . . . carried away . . I mean, it was really great of you and everything,' says Hermione quickly, looking positively petrified at the look on Harry's face, 'everyone thought it was a wonderful thing to do —
'That's funny,' said Harry through gritted teeth, 'because I definitely remember Ron saying I'd wasted time acting the hero . . . is that what you think this is? You reckon I want to act the hero again?'
'Oh, for the love of God!!' Maya shrieks, completely fed up with his behavior. She gets where he's coming from — believe me, she does — but his defensiveness is getting right on her nerves and Maya doesn't know if she'll be able to refrain from snapping at him any longer.
'No, no, no!' says Hermione, looking aghast. That's not what I mean at all!'
'Well, spit out what you've got to say, because we're wasting time here!' Harry shouts. Maya sighs, putting her head in her hands.
For someone who's referred to as the Wizarding World's saviour, Harry Potter's skull might be the thickest she's ever seen.
I'm trying to say — Voldemort knows you, Harry! He took Ginny down into the Chamber of Secrets to lure you there, it's the kind of thing he does, he knows you're the — the sort of person who'd go to Sirius's aid! What if he's just trying to get you into the Department of Myst — ?'
'Hermione, it doesn't matter if he's done it to get me there or not — they've taken McGonagall to St Mungo's, there isn't anyone from the Order left at Hogwarts who we can tell, and if we don't go, Sirius is dead!'
'But Harry — what if your dream was — was just that, a dream?'
Harry lets out a roar of frustration. Hermione actually steps back from him, looking alarmed.
'You don't get it!' Harry shouts at her, 'I'm not having nightmares, I'm not just dreaming! What d'you think all the Occlumency was for, why d'you think Dumbledore wanted me prevented from seeing these things? Because they're REAL, Hermione — Sirius is trapped, I've seen him. Voldemort's got him, and no one else knows, and that means we're the only ones who can save him, and if you don't want to do it, fine, but I'm going, understand? And if I remember rightly, you didn't have a problem with my saving-people thing when it was you I was saving from the Dementors, or — ' he rounds on Ron ' — when it was your sister I was saving from the Basilisk — ' he turns to face Maya — ' Or when it was you I got out of that graveyard, '
'I never fucking said that I had a problem with it! None of us did!' Maya cries, but he doesn't seem to hear her, 'Would you just listen — '
'But Harry, you've just said it,' says Hermione fiercely, 'Dumbledore wanted you to learn to shut these things out of your mind, if you'd done Occlumency properly you'd never have seen this — '
'IF YOU THINK I'M JUST GOING TO ACT LIKE I HAVEN'T SEEN — '
'Sirius told you there was nothing more important than you learning to close your mind!'
'WELL, I EXPECT HE'D SAY SOMETHING DIFFERENT IF HE KNEW WHAT I'D JUST — '
'Would you two stop screaming at each other?' Maya snaps, her patience absolutely gone, "It's not going to solve anything, is it?!'
The classroom door opens and the four of them whip around.
Ginny walks in, looking curious, closely followed by Luna and Diana, who has an arm slung around the waist of the latter.
'Hi,' says Ginny uncertainly. 'We recognised Harry's voice, '
'What are you yelling about?' questions Diana, bluntly.
'Never you mind,' says Harry roughly.
Maya glares at him, 'Can you stop being a dickhead for five seconds?'
Ginny raises her eyebrows. 'There's no need to take that tone with me,' she says coolly, 'I was only wondering whether I could help.'
'Well, you can't,' says Harry shortly.
'You're being rather rude, you know,' says Luna serenely. Harry swears and turns away.
'Wait,' says Hermione suddenly. 'Wait . . . Harry, they can help.'
The three of them look at her. 'Listen,' she says urgently, 'Harry, we need to establish whether Sirius really has left Headquarters.'
'I've told you, I saw — '
'Harry, I'm begging you, please!' says Hermione desperately. 'Please let's just check that Sirius isn't at home before we go charging off to London. If we find out he's not there, then I swear I won't try to stop you. I'll come, I'll d — do whatever it takes to try and save him.'
'Sirius is being tortured NOW!' shouts Harry. 'We haven't got time to waste.'
'But if this is a trick of Voldemort's, Harry, we've got to check, we've got to.'
'How?' Harry demands. 'How're we going to check?'
'We'll have to use Umbridge's fire and see if we can contact him, says Hermione, who looks positively terrified at the thought. 'We'll draw Umbridge away again, but we'll need lookouts, and that's where we can use Ginny, Diana and Luna.'
'Maya too, ' pipes up Diana, looking concerned, 'You know I'm right — I don't think Nandini would take very kindly to your expulsion, now, would she?'
Maya tries to protest but Ginny interrupts her, 'Yeah, we'll do it,' as Luna says, 'When you say "Sirius", are you talking about Stubby Boardman?'
Nobody answers her.
'OK,' Harry says aggressively to Hermione, 'OK, if you can think of a way of doing this quickly, I'm with you, otherwise I'm going to the Department of Mysteries right now.'
'The Department of Mysteries?' says Luna, looking mildly surprised. 'But how are you going to get there?'
Maya has an idea 'I can portal us there!' she replies, in half-awe, 'I've been to the Ministry before, and Hogwarts hasn't put any restrictions on warlock magic, '
'Right,' says Hermione, twisting her hands together and pacing up and down between the desks. 'Right . . . well . . . one of us has to go and find Umbridge and — and send her off in the wrong direction, keep her away from her office. They could tell her — I don't know — that Peeves is up to something awful as usual . . .'
'I'll do it,' says Ron at once. 'I'll tell her Peeves is smashing up the Transfiguration department or something, it's miles away from her office. Come to think of it, I could probably persuade Peeves to do it if I met him on the way.'
It is a mark of the seriousness of the situation that Hermione makes no objection to the smashing up of the Transfiguration department.
'OK,' she says, her brows furrowed as she continues to pace. 'Now, we need to keep students right away from her office while we force entry, or some Slytherin's bound to go and tip her off.
'Luna and I can stand at either end of the corridor," says Ginny promptly, 'and warn people not to go down there because someone's let off a load of Garrotting Gas. Maya and Diana can stay with us as well, '
Hermione looks surprised at the readiness with which Ginny has come up with this lie; Ginny shrugs and says, 'Fred and George were planning to do it before they left.'
'OK,' says Hermione. 'Well then, Harry, you and I will be under the Invisibility Cloak and we'll sneak into the office and you can talk to Sirius — '
'He's not there, Hermione!'
'I mean, you can — can check whether Sirius is at home or not while I keep watch, I don't think you should be in there alone, Lee's already proved the windows a weak spot, sending those Nifflers through it.'
Even through his anger and impatience, Harry seems to see Hermione's offer to accompany him into Umbridge's office as a sign of solidarity and loyalty, 'I . . . OK, thanks,' he mutters, in surprise.
'Right, well, even if we do all of that, I don't think we're going to be able to bank on more than five minutes,' says Hermione, looking relieved that Harry seems to have accepted the plan, 'not with Filch and the wretched Inquisitorial Squad floating around.'
'Five minutes'll be enough,' says Harry, confidently.
The fates sure have a way of setting her up for suicide missions, doesn't it?
But, Maya supposes, at this point, who is she to deny them?
Harry is wrong. They get caught in less than five minutes.
Maya feels Romilda's wand press rather gingerly against the small of her back as she's held in Umbridge's office. 'Touch me, and I'll disembowel you, Vane." she spits. The Gryffindor's wand immediately returns to her pocket.
'I want to know why you are in my office!,' says Umbridge, shaking the fist clutching Harry's hair so that he staggers.
'I was — trying to get my Firebolt!' Harry croaks, seizing up in pain.
'Liar!.' She shakes his head again. 'Your Firebolt is under strict guard in the dungeons, as you very well know, Potter. You had your head in my fire. With whom have you been communicating?'
'No one — ' says Harry, trying to pull away from her. He feels several hairs part company with his scalp.
'Liar!' shouts Umbridge. She throws him from her and he slams into the desk. Hermione is pinioned against the wall by Millicent Bulstrode. Pansy Parkinson's arms are around Diana's waist, keeping her from running off. She looks helplessly at Maya, who shakes her head, asking her to keep quiet.
There's a commotion outside and several large Slytherins enters, each gripping Ron, Ginny, Luna and — to Maya's shock — Neville, who is trapped in a stranglehold by Crabbe and looks in imminent danger of suffocation. All four of them have been gagged. Draco Malfoy rushes in behind them, eyes wide as he registers the scene in front of him.
'Got 'em all,' says Warrington, shoving Ron roughly forwards into the room, 'That one,' he pokes a thick finger at Neville, 'tried to stop me taking her,' he points at Ginny, who's trying to kick the shins of the large Slytherin girl holding her, 'so I brought him along too.'
'Good, good,' says Umbridge, watching Ginny's struggles. 'Well, it looks as though Hogwarts will shortly be a Weasley-free zone, doesn't it?'
Pansy Parkinson laughs loudly and sycophantically; Maya wants to erase the sound from her ears forever. Umbridge gives her wide, complacent smile and settles herself into a chintz-covered armchair, blinking up at her captives like a toad in a flowerbed.
'So, Potter,' she says. 'You stationed lookouts around my office, ' — her eyes flit to Maya, who's frozen with terror — , 'and you sent this buffoon,' she nods at Ron — Parkinson laughs even louder— 'to tell me the poltergeist was wreaking havoc in the Transfiguration department when I knew perfectly well that he was busy smearing ink on the eyepieces of all the school telescopes — Mr Filch having just informed me so. 'Clearly, it was very important for you to talk to somebody. Was it Albus Dumbledore? Or the half-breed, Hagrid? I doubt it was Minerva McGonagall, I hear she is still too ill to talk to anyone.'
The Inquisitorial Squad breaks out into snickers. Maya feels both rage and fear start to culminate inside her, a dangerous concoction, considering that her hands are starting to crackle with magic at the fingertips.
'It's none of your business who I talk to,' he snarls. Umbridge's slack face seems to tighten.
'Very well,' she says in her most dangerous and falsely sweet voice. 'Very well, Mr Potter . . . I offered you the chance to tell me freely. You refused. I have no alternative but to force you. Pansy ' — fetch Professor Snape.'
There's silence in the office except for the fidgetings and scufflings resulting from the Slytherins' efforts to keep Ron and the others under control. The quiet around her makes Maya's brain run in circles, realizing just how fucked she really is. Once again, her common sense has been thrown out the window, and once again, her future will suffer because of it.
Ron's lip is bleeding on to Umbridge's carpet as he struggles against Warrington's half-nelson; Ginny is still trying to stamp on the feet of the sixth-year girl who has both her upper arms in a tight grip; Neville is turning steadily more purple in the face while lugging at Crabbe's arms; and Hermione is attempting, in vain, to throw Millicent Bulstrode off her. Luna, however, stands limply by the side of her captor, gazing vaguely out of the window as though rather bored by the proceedings.
Something, anything would help to kill the feelings blooming inside her; it feels like knife-filled bushes are blooming inside Maya's lungs. If she doesn't do something — anything — now, all her friends can kiss their academic futures goodbye.
Then Malfoy's fingers lace with her's, and all coherent thoughts go flying out of her head.
Maya doesn't dare look at him; she can't afford to, considering that they're in a room full of people who detest his very existence. But she can feel the warm, reassuring weight of him next to her, leaning against the wall. His expression is emotionless, utterly passive, but his touch says otherwise. She doesn't know if she'll ever get used to his contradicting actions — and as his thumb traces soothing circles on the back of her hand, Maya doesn't even know if she wants to.
But the surprise that overcomes her isn't from the tenderness of his gesture —although the feeling of his hand in hers is definitely doing funny things to her — it's from what Draco Malfoy bestows upon her. Thin, long and solid, he silently hands her his wand, stowing his hand back in the pocket of his robes, looking back at the entrance as Pansy comes back from the Potion master's office.
Maya stands there in shock for approximately five seconds in shock. He just gave her a way out.
Somehow, in her mind, that solidifies her feelings about him. Maya's been confused all this time, wondering whether she's gone insane for caring about the very guy that used to make her friends' lives a living hell. Even with their strange history, her fondness for him felt wrong. His parents work for the very man who got Arjun killed, and Draco hasn't exactly been the quietest about their beliefs.
Up until now, Maya felt like falling over the thin line between affection and attraction would cause her to have to throw away her morals.
But as always, he's managed to prove her wrong. Draco Malfoy is more on her side than Maya originally expected.
And she's not sure what to do about it anymore.
'You wanted to see me, Headmistress?' says Snape, walking in with Pansy looking around at all the pairs of struggling students with an expression of complete indifference.
'Ah, Professor Snape,' says Umbridge, smiling widely and standing up again. 'Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please.'
'You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter,' he says, surveying her coolly through his greasy curtains of black hair. 'Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient.'
Umbridge flushes. 'You can make some more, can't you?' she says, her voice becoming more sweetly girlish as it always does when she's furious.
'Certainly,' says Snape, his lip curling. 'It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in around a month.'
'A month?' squawks Umbridge, swelling toadishly. 'A month! But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just found Potter using my fire to communicate with a person or persons unknown!'
'Really?' says Snape, showing his first, faint sign of interest as he looks round at Harry. 'Well, it doesn't surprise me. Potter has never shown much inclination to follow school rules.'
'I wish to interrogate him!' repeats Umbridge angrily, and Snape looks away from Harry back into her furiously quivering lace. 'I wish you to provide me with a potion that will force him to tell me the truth!'
'I have already told you,' says Snape smoothly, 'that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you wish to poison Potter — 'and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did — I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth-telling.'
'You are on probation!' shrieks Professor Umbridge, and Snape looked back at her, his eyebrows slightly raised. 'You are being deliberately unhelpful! I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you! Now get out of my office!'
Snape gives her an ironic bow and turns to leave — or as Jace would say, walks out like a boss.
'He's got Padfoot!, ' shouts Harry, suddenly, 'He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!'
Snape stops with his hand on the door handle.
'Padfoot?' cries Professor Umbridge, looking eagerly from Harry to Snape. 'What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?'
Snape looks round at Harry. His face is inscrutable.
'I have no idea,' says Snape coldly. 'Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage. And Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job.'
'Very well,' says Umbridge, her chest heaving, and she pulls out her wand. 'Very well . . . I am left with no alternative . . . this is more than a matter of school discipline . . . this is an issue of Ministry security . . . yes . . . yes . . .'
She seems to be talking herself into something. Maya has a very, very bad feeling about this.
'You are forcing me, Potter . . . I do not want to,' says Umbridge, still moving restlessly on the spot, 'but sometimes circumstances justify the use . . . I am sure the Minister will understand that I had no choice . . .' Draco Malfoy watches her with a suspicious expression. 'The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue,' says Umbridge quietly.
'No!' shrieks Hermione. 'Professor Umbridge — it's illegal.'
But Umbridge takes no notice. There's a nasty eager, excited look on her face that Maya is horrified by. She raises her wand.
'The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law, Professor Umbridge!' cries Hermione.
'What Cornelius doesn't know won't hurt him,' says Umbridge, who is now panting slightly as she points her wand at different parts of Harry's body in turn, apparently trying to decide where it will hurt most. Maya makes a move to reach for the wand in the pocket of her jeans, but a hand on her wrist stops her.
Umbridge continues, 'He never knew I ordered Dementors to go after Potter last summer, but he was delighted to be given the chance to expel him, all the same.'
'It was you?' gasps Harry. 'You sent the Dementors after me?'
'Somebody had to act,' breathes Umbridge, as her wand comes to rest pointing directly at Harry's forehead, 'They were all bleating about silencing you somehow — discrediting you — but I was the one who actually did something about it . . . only you wriggled out of that one, didn't you, Potter? Not today though, not now — '
Maya struggles against Draco's grip, glaring daggers at him. His eyes flit to Umbridge's wand, and then to her, hinting that if she interferes, she'll be the one being tortured instead.
Taking a deep breath, Umbridge cries, 'Cruc— '
'NO!' shouts Hermione in a cracked voice from behind Millicent Bulstrode. 'No — Harry — we'll have to tell her!'
'No way!' yells Harry, staring at the little of Hermione he can see.
'We'll have to, Harry, she'll force it out of you anyway, what's . . . what's the point?' And Hermione begins to cry weakly into the back of Millicent Bulstrode's robes. Millicent stops trying to squash her against the wall immediately and dodges out of her way looking disgusted. Maya immediately feels bad for her, but something seems slightly off . . .
'Well, well, well!' says Umbridge, looking triumphant. 'Little Miss Question-all is going to give us some answers! Come on then, girl, come on!'
'Er — my — nee — no!' shouts Ron through his gag. Ginny is staring at Hermione as though she has never seen her before. Neville, still choking for breath, is gazing at her, too. Maya finally notices; even though Hermione is sobbing, there's not a single trace of a tear on her face.
What is she trying to do?
'I'm — I'm sorry everyone,' says Hermione. 'But — I can't stand it — '
'That's right, that's right, girl!' says Umbridge, seizing Hermione by the shoulders, thrusting her into the abandoned chintz chair and leaning over her. 'Now then . . . with whom was Potter communicating just now?'
'Well,' gulps Hermione into her hands, 'well, he was trying to speak to Professor Dumbledore.'
Ron freezes, his eyes wide; Diana's mouth hangs open, and Ginny stops trying to stamp on her Slytherin captor's toes; even Luna looks mildly surprised. Fortunately, the attention of Umbridge and her minions is focused too exclusively upon Hermione to notice these suspicious signs
'Dumbledore?' says Umbridge eagerly. 'You know where Dumbledore is, then?'
'Well . . . no!' sobs Hermione. 'We've tried the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley and the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head — '
'Idiot girl — Dumbledore won't be sitting in a pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!' shouts Umbridge, disappointment etched in every sagging line of her face.
'But — but we needed to tell him something important!' wails Hermione, holding her hands more tightly over her face, not, Maya knows, out of anguish, but to disguise the continued absence of tears.
'Yes?' says Umbridge with a sudden resurgence of excitement. 'What was it you wanted to tell him?'
'We . . . we wanted to tell him it's r — ready!' chokes Hermione.
'What's ready?' demands Umbridge, and now she grabs Hermione's shoulders again and shakes her slightly. 'What's ready, girl?'
'The . . . the weapon,' says Hermione.
WHAT THE FUCK?! Maya's brain screams, inside her head, Is there some sort of mafia that Hermione runs that I'm not part of?
'Weapon? Weapon?' says Umbridge, and her eyes seem to pop with excitement. 'You have been developing some method of resistance? A weapon you could use against the Ministry? On Professor Dumbledore's orders, of course?'
Oh, Maya realizes, something twisting in her stomach, She's playing into the Daily Prophet's version of events. That's kind of smart . . .
'Y — y — yes,' gasps Hermione, 'but he had to leave before it was finished and n — n — now we've finished it for him, and we c — c — can't find him t — t — to tell him!'
'What kind of weapon is it?' says Umbridge harshly, her stubby hands still tight on Hermione's shoulders.
'We don't r — r — really understand it,' says Hermione, sniffing loudly. 'We j — j — just did what P — P — Professor Dumbledore told us t — t — to do.'
Umbridge straightens up, looking exultant. 'Lead me to the weapon,' she says.
'I'm not showing . . . them,' says Hermione shrilly, looking around at the Slytherins through her fingers.
'It is not for you to set conditions,' says Professor Umbridge harshly.
'Fine,' says Hermione, now sobbing into her hands again. Fine . . . let them see it, I hope they use it on you! In fact, I wish you'd invite loads and loads of people to come and see! Th — that would serve you right — oh, I'd love it if the wh — whole school knew where it was, and how to u — use it, and then if you annoy any of them they'll, be able to s — sort you out!'
These words have a powerful impact on Umbridge: she glances swiftly and suspiciously around at her Inquisitorial Squad. Umbridge contemplates Hermione for another long moment, then speaks in what she clearly thinks is a motherly voice.
'All right, dear, let's make it just you and me . . . and we'll take Potter, too, shall we? Get up, now.'
'Professor' says Blaise Zabini, cautiously, 'Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Squad should come with you to look after — '
'I am a fully qualified Ministry official, Zabini, do you really think I cannot manage two wandless teenagers alone?' asks Umbridge sharply. 'In any case, it does not sound as though this weapon is something that schoolchildren should see. You will remain here until I return and make sure none of these — she gestures around at Ron, Diana, Maya, Ginny, Neville and Luna ' — escape, '
'All right,' says Pansy Parkinson, looking sulky and disappointed.
'And you two can go ahead of me and show me the way,' says Umbridge, pointing at Harry and Hermione with her wand. 'Lead on.'
In the next ten minutes, chaos breaks out inside Umbridge's office.
Ginny deserves an award for her bat-bogey hex; Maya's sure Warrington is absolutely traumatized from the flying animals coming out of his nose. She manages to hex Millicent right between the eyes, freeing herself from Romilda's grip. Neville's stunner curse is perfect, and Diana has learned a thing or two from watching Isabelle in the training room all those months ago. Ron's effort is admirable; his spells hit the mark, and they all manage to run down the hall together, Maya's heart pounding with adrenaline, Draco Malfoy's wand still shoved into her pocket.
He'd known. He'd known about the connection between a warlock's emotions and their magic, how it could get dangerously out of control if they lost grip on their feelings. That's why he'd given her his wand, to make sure that she still had a way out without killing anyone by attempting one of Magnus's dark curses.
Draco Malfoy knows more about her than she does, and Maya's a fool for not noticing it earlier.
'What do you think Hermione was on about?' questions Ginny, to Diana, feverishly.
'No fucking clue, mate, ' replies the Hufflepuff, hand-in-hand with Luna; they stand practically locked together, 'But I hope it distracts Umbridge so that we can get our asses out of here,'
The reality of the situation suddenly hits Maya, hard. They're a bunch of teenagers up against trained dark wizards. Her earlier confidence suddenly feels thin; fear courses through her veins. Even with all the spells that Harry taught, there's still a huge chance that most of the collateral damage will be on them. Sirius's life depends on the D.A, and if she screws up—
In other words, this is a suicide mission, and if Maya isn't careful, she won't be alive to graduate. Her heart pounds as she looks back at the office, a few metres away.
They say that we only regret the chances we don't take, but what happens if the chance you want could destroy everything you have left?
'Maya?' questions Ginny, looking confused at her spaced-out state, 'You coming, '
Maya sucks in a deep breath, making up her mind as she replies, 'Go without me. I have something to take care of first, '
Diana and her share a knowing look. There's an understanding between them as she gives Maya a tiny nod.
Don't fuck this up.
Maya's off before they have time to answer back.
The door struggles to open; Maya has to slam her fist on the knob a few times for it to give way. She bursts inside, almost tripping over a few stray books fallen from the shelves. The room is in immense disarray; wallpaper is burnt, the kitten-printed dishes are cracked, it looks as though an atom bomb has exploded inside. But the chaos doesn't bother Maya, her eyes are frantically searching for a certain someone.
Something deflates in her as she whirls around. He's nowhere to be found.
'Maya?'
Draco Malfoy is standing there, at the door of the room, bewildered. He looks like hell; parts of his robes are singed, his smooth blonde hair is absolutely wild and the expression on his face is of utter disbelief. She probably looks worse; the heat has made her waves frizz up and there's a fresh cut on her cheek from a stray spell. But the way he's looking at her makes Maya feel like there's no one he'd rather be with. "
You came . . " she whispers, in shock.
"What are you doing here?" he questions, stepping inside the office and closing the door behind him, "I thought you were with Weasley and everyone else, "
"I came back for you, " The words sound foreign to her own years, "I mean to you — to give you your wand —, " she tosses it to him and Draco catches it quite smoothly, "But also for you as well — it's hard to explain, "
"Are you alright?" He steps closer to her, looking genuinely concerned; Butterflies erupt in her stomach as his fingers move a strand of her hair out of her face, brushing against her cheek as well, "You look very shaken up, "
"I'm fine, " Maya replies, softly, looking up into his eyes, "Better than ever, actually. I need to tell you something, "
"Go for it, " He looks unsure, vulnerable, almost.
Maya takes a deep breath, "This mission — task — I don't know what the fuck to call it — this thing, that I'm going on with my friends? It's dangerous. Like, really, really, dangerous. I don't know what's going to happen, but if things go south . . . I might not come back. I'm prepared for the consequences, but I don't know if you are and this is something you should've known a long time ago, "
"Draco Malfoy . . . I care about you. More than what's good for me, probably more than what's good for either of us. I didn't plan on it, I certainly didn't want it — at least, not at first, but it happened. Somewhere along with this crazy, strained history we have, I caught feelings for you. I was content with leaving it at that; I was fine with stewing in my own emotions until I had absolutely no choice but to say it to your face. But these past few weeks have made me realize that you're someone I can't afford to lose. You make me feel things that I didn't think were possible; you're the first person I've let my guard down for in a long, long time. We shouldn't fit together — but we do, and that scares me. Because I like you — so much — and if something happened to you, my life would ever be the same again, "
He looks at her, so many emotions swimming on his face as Maya's chest heaves from the exertion of her words. The distance between them is charged with something that sends a wild rush of adrenaline through her veins, and Maya steps closer to him, one hand tentatively reaching up to cup his jaw; the way he leans into her touch almost makes her gasp.
Draco looks at her like he's never seen her before in his life, "Are you serious? About . . . all of this? Because if this — if we, " he gestures to the almost-nonexistent space between them, " — happen, I can't promise I'll be able to let you go, "
"Good, " Maya breathes out, wrapping her arms around his neck and rising on her toes so that they're at face level, "Because I'm not letting you get away that easy either, "
She kisses him, and her world explodes into starlight.
It's better than anything Maya could have imagined; fireworks burst open in her chest as a dance of celebration. Draco gasps, a sound so vulnerable that it startles her; she pulls away, wondering if it's too soon.
But something in his eyes shifts — darkens, more accurately, and he grabs her by the waist, yanking her towards him and pulling her back into an almost-infernal kiss. His mouth is scorching against hers, burning with need, passion and something else that makes heat pool between her legs. Maya gasps, in surprise, but soon kisses him back just as hard, savoring this — them — for as long as she can. Her hands find their way into his hair, and pull, slightly. Draco makes a sound that's almost primal, something coiling in her lower abdomen, and his arms tighten around her, teeth dragging against her bottom lip.
When they finally break apart — lips swollen and hearts soaring, Draco Malfoy cups her face in his hands, a hard, blazing look in his eyes as they meet hers.
"Promise me, " he breathes against her lips, desperately "Promise me that you'll come back, "
Maya laughs, exhilarated, brushing her mouth against his once more in a ghost of a touch, "I swear, I will, "
Draco's hands reluctantly slip from around her as Maya bolts, running off into the open sunshine to portal her friends to the Ministry Of Magic.
Here goes nothing.
ajfdsks here we go!! it took forty fucking chapters for these two to kiss. i was honestly planning on extending the wait but decided not to torture myself (and you guys), so here. pretty proud of how this turned out ngl.
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 41: Chapter 41
Chapter Text
June 2016
The floor of the telephone box shudders and the pavement rises up past its glass windows as Maya anxiously pins the Visitor's badge to her chest, blackness closing over their heads. With a dull grinding noise, they sink down into the depths of the Ministry of Magic. A chink of soft golden light hits their feet and, widening, rises up their bodies. Maya straightens up and her fingers crackle, anticipating intruders, but to her surprise, no one's there.
'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,' says the woman's voice. The door of the telephone box bursts open; Harry topples out of it, closely followed by Maya and Diana. The only sound in the Atrium is the steady rush of water from the golden fountain, where jets from the wands of the witch and wizard, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and the house-elf's ears continue to gush into the surrounding pool.
'Come on, ' says Harry quietly and the eight of them sprint off down the hall, Diana in the lead, past the eerily deserted front desk. There's supposed to be someone there, Maya realizes, ominously, as they all clamber into the golden gates around the lift. A security guard. . . . if they're gone, then this certainly isn't going to turn out well.
Harry presses the nearest 'down' button and a lift clatters into sight almost immediately, the golden grilles slide apart with a great, echoing clanking and they all dash inside. Harry stabs the number nine button; the grilles close with a bang and the lift begins to descend, jangling and rattling. Maya wonders how no one's noticing that they're here, with all the noise that the lift is making, but she doesn't have time to dwell on it as they grind to a halt, the cool female voice saying, 'Department of Mysteries,' the grilles sliding open.
They step out into a dark corridor, where nothing is moving out but the nearest torches, flickering in the rush of air from the lift. Harry turns towards the plain black door on the right out of instinct. A sense of foreboding sits heavily in Maya's stomach, but she lets it go, pushing her emotions down and swallowing deeply.
It's now or never.
'Let's go,' he whispers, and leads the way down the corridor, Maya right behind him, sparks crackling at her fingertips.
'OK, listen,' says Harry, stopping again within six feet of the door. 'Maybe . . . maybe a couple of people should stay here as a — as a lookout, and — '
'And how're we going to let you know something's coming?' asks Diana, bluntly. 'You could be miles away.'
'We're coming with you, Harry,' says Neville.
'Let's get on with it,' says Ron firmly.
Harry sighs, and turns to face the door; it swings open and they marched over the threshold. They're standing in a large, circular room. Everything in here is black including the floor and ceiling; identical, unmarked, handleless black doors are set at intervals all around the black walls, interspersed with branches of candles whose flames burn blue; their cool, shimmering light reflected in the shining marble floor makes it look as though there is dark water underfoot.
'Someone shut the door,' Harry mutters. The room goes pitch-black, and Maya can barely make out the people standing around her. The candles burning around her give her surroundings an ominous glow, and Maya starts to feel the hair prickle on the back of her neck.
Just as she looks at the doors around them, wondering which is the right one, there's a great rumbling noise and the candles begin to move sideways. The circular wall is rotating. Diana shrieks and grabs Luna's arm as though frightened the floor might move, too, but it does not.
For a few seconds, the blue flames around them are blurred to resemble neon lines as the wall speeds around; then, quite as suddenly as it had started, the rumbling stops and everything becomes stationary once again. Maya exhales, sharply, a terrified laugh escaping her lips.
'What was that about?' whispers Ron fearfully.
'I think it was to stop us knowing which door we came in through,' says Ginny in a hushed voice.
'Then how're we supposed to get back out?!' Diana demands, panicked.
'Well, that doesn't matter now,' says Harry forcefully, blinking furiously and clutching his wand tightly in his hands, 'we won't need to get out till we've found Sirius — '
'Don't go calling for him, though!' Hermione says urgently.
'Where do we go, then, Harry?' Ron asks.
'I don't — ' Harry begins, faltering 'In the dreams I went through the door at the end of the corridor from the lifts into a dark room — that's this one — and then I went through another door into a room that kind of . . . glitters. We should try a few doors,' he says hastily, 'I'll know the right way when I see it. C'mon.'
He marches straight at the door now facing them, the others following close behind him, and pushes it open.
The room seems unnaturally bright as Maya blinks, her eyes adjusting to the warm lamps situated around the room. The place is quite empty except for a few desks and, in the very middle of the room, an enormous glass tank of deep green liquid, big enough for all of them to swim in; a number of pearly-white objects are drifting around lazily in it.
'What're those things?' whispers Diana, half-awed, half-disgusted.
'Dunno,' says Harry.
'Are they fish?' breathes Ginny.
'They look like they've been experimented on, ' Maya mutters, noting the weird, irregular shape of them.
'Aquavirius Maggots!' says Luna excitedly. 'Dad said the Ministry were breeding — '
'No,' says Hermione. She sounds odd. She moves forward to look through the side of the tank, 'They're brains.'
'Brains?'
'Yes . . . I wonder what they're doing with them?'
Maya joins her alongside the tank, arms folded across her chest. Sure enough, there can be no mistaking them now. Glimmering eerily, they drift in and out of sight in the depths of the green liquid, looking something like slimy cauliflowers. She shudders, completely and utterly grossed out, "I don't think we should stay here to find out, though, "
'Let's get out of here,' says Harry, "This isn't right, we need to try another door.'
'There are doors here, too,' says Ron, pointing around the walls.
'In my dream I went through that dark room into the second one,' says Harry, uncertainly. 'I think we should go back and try from there.'
They all hurry back into the dark, circular room.
'Wait!' says Hermione sharply, as Luna makes to close the door of the brain room behind them. 'Flagrate!'
She draws with her wand in midair and a fiery 'X' appears on the door. No sooner has the door clicked shut behind them than there's a great rumbling, and once again the wall begins to revolve very fast, but now there's a great red-gold blur in amongst the faint blue and, when all becomes still again, the fiery cross still burns, showing the door they've already tried.
'Good thinking,' says Harry. 'OK, let's try this one — '
Again, he strides directly at the door facing him and pushes it open, his wand still raised, the others at his heels.
This room is larger than the last, dimly lit and rectangular, and the centre of it is sunken, forming a great stone pit some twenty feet deep. They're standing on the topmost tier of what seems to be stone benches running all around the room and descending in steep steps like an amphitheatre, or the courtroom in which Maya's watched episodes of 'Judge Judy'. Instead, of a chair, however, there's a raised stone dais in the centre of the pit, on which stands a stone archway that looks so ancient, cracked and crumbling that Harry looks amazed the thing is still standing.
Unsupported by any surrounding wall, the archway is hung with a tattered black curtain or veil which, despite the complete stillness of the cold surrounding air, is fluttering very slightly, as though it's just been touched.
'Who's there?' says Harry, jumping down onto the bench below. There's no answering voice, but the veil continues to flutter and sway.
'Careful!' whispers Hermione. Maya scrambles down the benches one by one until she reaches the stone bottom of the sunken pit. Her footsteps echo loudly as she walks slowly towards the dais. The pointed archway looks much taller from where Maya now stands than it did when she was looking down on it from above. Still the veil sways gently, as though somebody has just passed through it. Maya frowns. She has the strangest feeling, as though someone's just passed through it; however, when she edges around, only the tattered black veil remains.
'Let's go,' calls Hermione from halfway up the stone steps, 'This isn't right, Harry, Maya, come on, let's go.' She sounds scared, much more scared than she had in the room where the brains swim. Maya is strangely drawn to the archway, as old as it is, it has a kind of lost magnificence about it. She hears something faint from the inside, scratchy, hoarse voices. They sound familiar, almost welcoming, but she can't discern what exactly what they're saying, but maybe if she leans a little closer . . .
Hermione catches up to her, grabbing Maya's arm and yanking her and Harry back just in time.
'Someone's whispering behind there,' he says, moving out of her reach and continuing to frown at the veil. 'Is that you, Ron?'
'I'm here, mate,' says Ron, appearing around the side of the archway.
'Can't anyone else hear it?' Harry demands, as the whispering and murmuring becomes louder; without really meaning to put it there, Maya finds the sole of her sneakers pushed onto the dais.
'I can hear them too,' breathes Luna, joining them around the side of the archway and gazing at the swaying veil. 'There are people in there!'
'What do you mean, "in there"?' demands Hermione, jumping down from the bottom step and sounding much angrier than the occasion warranted, 'there isn't any "in there", it's just an archway, there's no room for anybody to be there. Stop it, both of you, come away — '
She grabs Maya's arm and pulls. 'Harry, we are supposed to be here for Sirius!' says Hermione in a high-pitched, strained voice.
'Sirius,' Harry repeats, still gazing, mesmerised, at the continuously swaying veil. 'Yeah . . .'
Harry takes several paces back from the dais and wrenched his eyes from the veil; it's then Maya realizes that they still have someone to save.
'Let's get out of here, ' Maya breathes, reluctantly stepping back and following Harry's lead.
'That's what I've been trying to — well, come on, then!' huffs Hermione, and she leads the way back around the dais. On the other side, Ginny and Neville are staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too. Without speaking, Hermione takes hold of Ginny's arm, Ron grabs Neville's, and they march them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clamber all the way back up to the door.
'What d'you reckon that arch was?' Harry asks Hermione as they regain the dark circular room.
'I don't know, but whatever it was, it was dangerous,' she says firmly, again inscribing a fiery cross on the door.
Once more, the wall spins and became still again. Harry approaches another door at random and pushes. It doesn't move.
'What's wrong?' says Hermione.
'It's . . . locked . . .' says Harry, throwing his weight at the door, but it doesn't budge.
'This is it, then, isn't it?' says Ron excitedly, joining Harry in the attempt to force the door open. 'Bound to be!'
'Get out of the way!' says Hermione sharply. She points her wand at the place where a lock would have been on an ordinary door and says, 'Alohomora!'
Nothing happens.
'Sirius's knife!' says Harry. He pulls it out from inside his robes and slides it into the crack between the door and the wall. The others all watch eagerly as he runs it from top to bottom, withdraws it and then flings his shoulder again at the door. It remains as firmly shut as ever. Maya sneaks a glance at the knife and gasps; the blade has completely melted off.
'Right, we're leaving that room,' says Hermione decisively.
'But what if that's the one?' says Ron, staring at it with a mixture of apprehension and longing.
'It can't be, Harry could get through all the doors in his dream,' says Hermione, marking the door with another fiery cross as Harry replaces the now-useless handle of Sirius's knife in his pocket.
'You know what could be in there?' says Luna eagerly, as the wall starts to spin yet again.
'Something blibbering, no doubt,' says Hermione under her breath and Diana gives her a death glare. The wall slides to a halt and Harry desperately pushes the next door open.
'This is it!' he exclaims. Beautiful, dancing lights fill the room. As Maya's eyes become accustomed to the brilliant glare, she sees clocks gleaming from every surface, large and small, grandfather and carriage, hanging in spaces between the bookcases or standing on desks ranging the length of the room, so that a busy, relentless ticking fills the place like thousands of minuscule, marching footsteps.
The source of the dancing, diamond-bright light is a towering crystal bell jar that stands at the far end of the room. 'This way!' Harry leads them exuberantly down the lines of desks. 'Oh, look!' says Ginny, as they draw nearer, pointing at the very heart of the bell jar. Drifting along in the sparkling current inside is a tiny, jewel-bright egg. As it rises in the jar, it cracks open and a hummingbird emerges, which is carried to the very top of the jar, but as it falls on the draught its feathers become bedraggled and damp again, and by the time it has been borne back to the bottom of the jar it has been enclosed once more in its egg.
'Keep going!' says Harry sharply, because Ginny shows signs of wanting to stop and watch the egg's progress back into a bird.
'You dawdled enough by that old arch!' she says crossly, but follows him past the bell jar to the only door behind it.
'This is it,' Harry says again, as though he cannot believe his own words, 'it's through here — '
He glances around at them all; they have their wands out and looked suddenly serious and anxious. Maya grips one of Diana's hands in hers, squeezing it reassuringly.
This is it. They're finally at an impasse.
Harry looks back at the door and pushes. It swings open.
The room is as high as a church and full of nothing but towering shelves covered in small, dusty glass orbs. They glimmer dully in the light issuing from more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room behind them, their flames are burning blue. The room is very cold; Maya pulls her hoodie tighter around herself, shivering in her summery black tank top. Diana huddles closer to Luna for warmth.
'You said it was row ninety-seven,' whispers Hermione.
'Yeah,' breathes Harry, looking up at the end of the closest row. Beneath the branch of blue-glowing candles glimmers the silver figure fifty-three.
'We need to go right, I think,' whispers Hermione, squinting to the next row. 'Yes . . . that's fifty-four . . . '
'Keep your wands ready,' Maya mutters. They creep forward, glancing behind them as they go on down the long alleys of shelves, the further ends of which are in near-total darkness. Tiny, yellowing labels have been stuck beneath each glass orb on the shelves. Some of them have a weird, liquid glow; others are as dull and dark within as blown light bulbs. They pass row eighty-four . . . eighty-five . . .
'Ninety-seven!' whispers Hermione, after what feels like years of searching. They stand, grouped around the end of the row, gazing down the alley beside it.
There's nobody there.
'He's right down at the end,' says Harry, whose voice is starting to shake with terror. 'You can't see properly from here.' And he leads them between the towering rows of glass balls, some of which glow softly as they pass . . .
'He should be near here,' whispers Harry, 'Anywhere here . . . really close . . .'
'Harry?' says Hermione tentatively, but he doesn't respond. Maya feels dread twist in her stomach. What if they've all come for nothing? What if Sirius isn't here after all, and she's walked directly into a trap?
'Somewhere about . . . here . . .' Harry says. They reach the end of the row and emerge into more dim candlelight. There's nobody there. All she finds is echoing, dusty silence.
'He might be . . .' Harry whispers hoarsely, peering down the next alley. 'Or maybe . . .' He hurries to look down the one beyond that.
'Harry?' says Hermione again.
'What?' he snarls, turning back to glare at them.
Maya finally finds her voice, 'Harry . . . . . I don't think Sirius is here.'
Nobody speaks. Harry doesn't look at any of them. His feet shuffle along the floor in a desperate manner as he runs to the end of the aisle, and the next one, and the next one . . . . something in Maya deflates as she looks around the shelves, wondering where his godfather could possibly be.
She doesn't have much of a relationship with Sirius apart from him knowing the truth of her existence, but something about him is comforting, reminding her of safety. Of a time when it wasn't just her and her mom, a time where she had someone to protect her from the monsters that lay under her bed, someone who could alleviate the dark circles that constantly pervade Nandini's face, someone who laughed along with her at the dinner table and glared at Jace whenever he got a little too cocky for her liking.
Sirius is the last link Maya has to Arjun, and she knows that losing him will cost her forever.
'Harry?' Ron calls, suddenly.
'What?' The boy mentioned snaps
'Have you seen this?' says Ron.
'Seen what?' Maya walks up to him, peering over his shoulder; it's a difficult task, considering that Ron is almost an entire head taller than her.
'Look, it's got his name on it,' says Ron. Harry moves a little closer, pushing past Maya in the process. Ron is pointing at one of the small glass spheres that glow with a dull inner light, though the layer of dust on it shows that it hasn't been touched in years.
'My name?' says Harry blankly. He steps forwards. Not nearly as tall as Ron, he has to crane his neck to read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. Maya curves her body past him, wondering which deity cursed her mother to have such an impossibly short child. She sees Diana stifle a snicker at her efforts to be able to read the label.
In spidery writing is written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that: S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter.
'What is it?' Ron asks, sounding unnerved. 'What's your name doing down here?' He glances along at the other labels on that stretch of shelf.
'I'm not here,' he says, sounding perplexed. 'None of the rest of us are here.'
'Harry, I don't think you should touch it,' says Hermione sharply, as he stretches out his hand.
'Why not?' he says. 'It's something to do with me, isn't it?'
'Don't, Harry,' says Neville suddenly. Maya looks at him, perplexed. Neville's round face is shining slightly with sweat. He looks as though he cannot take much more suspense.
'It's got my name on,' says Harry. Maya's heart pounds in fear as Harry lifts the glass ball down from its shelf and stares at it. Nothing whatsoever happens. The others move in closer around Harry, gazing at the orb as he brushes it free of the clogging dust.
And then, from right behind them, a drawling voice speaks, 'Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me.'
Maya gasps.
Fuck. Fuck — fuck — fuck —
Black shapes are emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glint through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips are pointing directly at their hearts. Maya pushes Diana behind her as the latter pales in horror.
'To me, Potter,' repeats the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy as he holds out his hand, palm up. Maya's insides churn, and she feels Diana stiffen next to her at the sight of her father.
'To me,' says Malfoy yet again. His flinty eyes flit to his daughter, a mere shadow next to the girl who snogged his son less than two hours ago. Maya's cheeks turn red as she remembers their little tryst in Umbridge's office.
'Where's Sirius?' Harry says. Several of the Death Eaters laugh; a harsh female voice from the midst of the shadowy figures to Maya's left says triumphantly, 'The Dark Lord always knows!'
'Always,' echoes Malfoy softly. 'Now, give me the prophecy, Potter.'
'I want to know where Sirius is!'
'I want to know where Sirius is!' mimics the woman to his left. She and her fellow Death Eaters have closed in so that they are mere feet away from Harry and the others, the light from their wands dazzling Maya's eyes.
'You've got him,' says Harry, fighting to hide the panic in his voice. Maya's hands shake in terror and she presses them hard against her thighs, struggling to stop the tremors 'He's here. I know he is.'
'The little baby woke up fwightened and fort what it dweamed was twoo,' says the woman in a horrible, mock baby voice. Maya starts forward, but Harry stops her, a hand around her wrist.
'Don't do anything,' he mutters. 'Not yet '
The woman who has mimicked him gives out a raucous scream of laughter. 'You hear him? You hear him? Giving instructions to the other children as though he thinks of fighting us!'
'Your daughter is among them, Lucius, ' speaks another voice, with a hint of condescension 'Such a shame, she would have made such a fine asset to our forces, 'The tall man in front of her stiffens considerably; it's clear that he's bothered by his child standing on the opposite side of this fight.
But to Maya's (and everyone else's) surprise, Diana stops shying away from the spotlight. She brushes past Maya to stand in front of him, staring up defiantly at her father, bright pink hair glowing electric from the blue light around them.
'So what if I am?' challenges Diana, voice deep and smooth in all her tall glory, 'Not like I cared much for your cause anyway, '
The older woman gasps, utterly scandalized; hushed murmurs break out among the death eaters. Lucius Malfoy looks absolutely enraged.
'You insolent girl!, ' he spits, eyes furious, 'How dare you speak to your aunt that way?'
'I'll speak to her however I please, ' replies Diana, coolly standing her ground; Maya's jaw drops at her confidence, 'Especially if she's threatening to murder my friends, father, "
'Bloody hell . . . ' mutters Harry, shocked, 'What's gotten into her?'
'I think the wrackspurts have worked their magic, ' Luna says, dreamily; Maya detects a hint of pride in her voice.
'I can't believe this . . . , ' Lucius fumes, 'First Hufflepuff, then the hair, now this?! You should be ashamed of yourself!'
'For finding happiness for the first time in my life?, ' fires back Diana, with just as much venom in her voice, 'For finally being able to be myself? For having friends that support my decisions and are there for me no matter what?! Do I seriously look like the crazy one to you?!'
'You are no daughter of mine!!, ' growls Lucius, rage filling every inch of his tone.
'Good, ' spits Diana, in a malicious tone, stepping closer to him, 'I don't want you in my life at all. Because if I'm being honest, you're a pretty shit father, Lucius!!'
This seems to be the last straw for Lucius Malfoy; he shoves Diana so far back that her head smacks against the shelf with a sickening crack. Maya shrieks with rage, lunging at him, but Diana yanks her back just in time.
'Don't waste your energy, sweetheart, ' mutters Diana lowly into her ear, 'He's not worth it,'
'Now give me the prophecy, Potter.' Malfoy says this with his head held high, apparently trying to maintain some semblance of dignity after being thrown under the bus by his own daughter.
'I know Sirius is here,' says Harry, panic filling his tone 'I know you've got him!'
More of the Death Eaters laugh, though the woman laughs loudest of all.
'It's time you learned the difference between life and dreams, Potter,' says Malfoy. 'Now give me the prophecy, or we start using wands.'
'Go on, then,' says Harry, raising his own wand to chest height. As he does so, the six wands of Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny and Luna rise on either side of Maya. She raises her right hand, magic crackling at her fingertips, the familiarity of the power rushing through her veins feeling like home.
The Death Eaters still stand their ground, 'Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt,' says Lucius Malfoy coolly.
It's Harry's turn to laugh. 'Yeah, right!' he says. 'I give you this — prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?'
The words are hardly out of his mouth when the female Death Eater shrieks: 'Accio proph— '
Harry is just ready for her: he shouts 'Protego' before she finishes her spell, and though the glass sphere slips to the tips of his fingers he manages to cling on to it.
'Oh, he knows how to play, little — bitty —baby — Potter,' says the , her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. 'Very well, then — '
'I TOLD YOU, NO!' Lucius Malfoy roars at the woman. 'If you smash it — !'
The woman steps forward, away from her fellows, and pulls off her hood. A chill goes through Maya as she recognizes her. Azkaban has hollowed Bellatrix Lestrange's face, making it gaunt and skull-like, but it is alive with a feverish, fanatical glow.
'You need more persuasion?' she says, her chest rising and falling rapidly. 'Very well — take the smallest one,' she orders the Death Eaters beside her. 'Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it.'
Maya tries to push Ginny behind her, but Harry beats her to it; he steps sideways so that he is right in front of her, the prophecy held up to his chest. '
'You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us,' he tells Bellatrix. 'I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?'
She does not move; she merely stares at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth.
'So,' said Harry, 'what kind of prophecy are we talking about, anyway?'
'What kind of prophecy?' repeats Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. 'You jest, Harry Potter.'
'Nope, not jesting,' says Harry, his eyes flicking from Death Eater to Death Eater, looking for a weak link, as though he's looking for a way to escape. 'How come Voldemort wants it?'
Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses.
'You dare speak his name?' whispers Bellatrix.
'Yeah,' says Harry, maintaining his tight grip on the glass ball, 'Yeah, I've got no problem with saying Vol— '
'Shut your mouth!' Bellatrix shrieks. 'You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare — '
Maya grows tired of her shrieking, 'Oh shut up, you crazy hag!, ' she snaps, 'Do you really think any of us are taking you seriously?'
Bellatrix growls at Maya, stepping forward, but Harry distracts her recklessly, 'Did you know he's a half-blood too?' said Harry recklessly. Hermione makes a sound of despair 'Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle — or has he been telling you lot he's pure-blood?'
'STUPEF—'
'NO!'
A jet of red light has shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but the Malfoy patriarch has deflected it; his spell causes hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Maya and several of the glass orbs there shatter. Two figures, pearly-white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurl themselves from the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and each begin to speak; their voices vie with each other, so that only fragments of what they are saying can be heard over Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts.
'. . . at the solstice will come a new . . .' says he figure of an old, bearded man. '
DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!'
'He dared — he dares — ' shrieks Bellatrix incoherently, 'he stands there — filthy half-blood — '
'WAIT UN'I'LL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!' bawls Malfoy.
'. . . and none will come after . . .' says the figure of a young woman.
The two figures that have burst from the shattered spheres melt into thin air. Nothing remains of them or their erstwhile homes but fragments of glass upon the floor.
'You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over,' says Harry, his foot discreetly nudging hers on the floor. Maya jumps.
'Do not play games with us, Potter,' says Malfoy.
'I'm not playing games,' says Harry, stalling for time.
'What?' Maya whispers, as discreetly as she can.
'Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?' Malfoy sneers.
'I — what?' said Harry, 'What about my scar?'
'What?' whispers Maya, more urgently behind him.
'Can this be?' says Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters are laughing again, and under cover of their laughter, Harry hisses to Maya, moving his lips as little as possible, 'Smash shelves — '
'Dumbledore never told you?' Malfoy repeats. 'Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why — '
' — when I say now — '
' — you didn't come running when he showed you the place where it was hidden in your dreams. He thought natural curiosity would make you want to hear the exact wording . . .'
'Did he?' says Harry. Maya quietly relays his message to the rest of the group, hands shaking with a mixture of adrenaline and terror.
'So he wanted me to come and get it, did he? Why?'
'Why?' Malfoy sounds incredulously delighted. 'Because the only people who are permitted to retrieve a prophecy from the Department of Mysteries, Potter, are those about whom it was made, as the Dark Lord discovered when he attempted to use others to steal it for him.'
'And why did he want to steal a prophecy about me?'
'About both of you, Potter, about both of you . . . haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?'
'Someone made a prophecy about Voldemort and me?' he says quietly, gazing at Lucius Malfoy, his fingers tightening over the warm glass sphere in his hand. Maya keeps her spell at the ready, 'And he's made me come and get it for him? Why couldn't he come and get it himself?'
'Get it himself?' shrieks Bellatrix, over a cackle of mad laughter, 'The Dark Lord, walk into the Ministry of Magic, when they are so sweetly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord, reveal himself to the Aurors, when at the moment they are wasting their time on my dear cousin?'
'So, he's got you doing his dirty work for him, has he?' says Harry. 'Like he tried to get Sturgis to steal it — and Bode?'
'Very good, Potter, very good . . .' says Malfoy slowly. 'But the Dark Lord knows you are not unintell— '
'NOW!' yells.
'REDUCTO!' Maya screams, a powerful jet of red light leaving her fingertips. Seven curses fly in seven different directions and the shelves opposite them explode as they hit; the towering structure sways as a hundred glass spheres burst apart, pearly-white figures unfurled into the air and float there, their voices echoing from who knows what long-dead past amid the torrent of crashing glass and splintered wood now raining down upon the floor — '
'RUN!' Harry yells, as the shelves sway precariously and more glass spheres began to fall from above. Maya grabs Diana and bolts for her life.
How they manage to get out of there is a blur. The Death Eaters around them are vicious in their pursuit; no matter how many offices Diana tries to hide in, they always manage to break through. Maya's magic is the only thing protecting them from being hit by the dark curses sent their way, and as she feels the familiar, dangerous tingling down her spine, Maya knows that she won't be able to hold them back for long without her magic lashing out at itself.
But the worst comes when they meet Harry and Hermione at a crossroads, back in the circular room where it all started. The four of them barely have any time to speak before Ron, Ginny and Luna come rushing at them.
'Ron!' croaks Harry, dashing towards them. 'Ginny — are you all — ?'
'Harry,' says Ron, giggling weakly, lurching forwards, seizing the front of Harry's robes and gazing at him with unfocused eyes, 'there you are . . . ha ha ha . . . you look funny, Harry . . . you're all messed up . . .'
'What's wrong with him?' Diana questions, horrified. Something is deeply off; he's as pale as a shit and something dark trickles from the corner of his mouth.
The next moment, his knees give way, but he still clutches the front of Harry's robes, so that the taller boy is pulled into a kind of bow.
'Ginny?' Maya questions, with alarm, 'What happened?'
But Ginny shakes her head and slides down the wall into a sitting position, panting and holding her ankle.
'I think her ankle's broken, I heard something crack,' whispers Luna, who's bending over her and who (to Diana's visible relief) alone seems to be unhurt. 'Four of them chased us into a dark room full of planets; it was a very odd place, some of the time we were just floating in the dark — '
'Harry, we saw Uranus up close!' says Ron, still giggling feebly. 'Get it, Harry? We saw Uranus — ha ha ha — ' A bubble of blood grows at the corner of Ron's mouth and bursts.
' — anyway, one of them grabbed Ginny's foot, I used the Reducto Curse and blew up Pluto in his face, but . . .' Luna gestures hopelessly at Ginny, who is breathing in a very shallow way, her eyes still closed.
'And what about Ron?' says Harry fearfully, as Ron continues to giggle, still hanging off the front of Harry's robes.
'I don't know what they hit him with,' says Luna sadly, 'but he's gone a bit funny, I could hardly get him along at all.'
'Harry,' says Ron, pulling Harry's ear down to his mouth and still giggling weakly, 'you know who this girl is, Harry? She's Loony . . . Loony Lovegood . . . ha ha ha . . .' '
We've got to get out of here,' says Harry firmly. 'Maya, can you heal Ginny?'
'Sure' breathes Maya. Luna pulls the smaller girl up, sitting her against the wall as Maya crouches next to her. Her ankle is badly bruised, and judging, by the way Ginny yelps when Maya's fingers reach out to touch her, Luna's telling the truth. She settles with a simple episkey, not wanting to risk accidentally screwing up one of Magnus's spells and hurting Ginny even more.
Harry pulls Ron's arm over his shoulder and heaves him towards a door as Maya helps Ginny stand up; they're within a few feet of it when another door across the hall bursts open and three Death Eaters speed in, led by Bellatrix Lestrange.
'There they are!' she shrieks. Stunning Spells shoot across the room; Harry drags Maya along with him as he smashes his way through the door ahead, flings Ron unceremoniously from him and ducks back to help Neville in with Hermione: they're all over the threshold just in time to slam the door against Bellatrix.
'Colloportus!' shouts Harry, and Maya hears three bodies slam into the door on the other side.
'It doesn't matter!' says a man's voice, 'There are other ways in — WE'VE GOT THEM, THEY'RE HERE!'
Maya whirls around; they are back in the Brain Room and, sure enough, there are doors all around the walls. Footsteps echo in the hall behind them as more Death Eaters come running to join the first.
'Luna — Neville — help me!'
The three of them tear around the room, sealing the doors as they go. Harry crashes into a table and rolls over the top of it in his haste to reach the next door: 'Colloportus!'
There are footsteps running along behind the doors, every now and then another heavy body launches itself against one, so it creaks and shudders; Luna and Neville are bewitching the doors along the opposite wall — Diana and Maya helping them, then, Maya's about to finish when Luna shouts, 'Collo— aaaaaaaaargh . . .'
Diana screams as Luna flies through the air; landing hard on a desk and sliding off of it onto the floor; she lies as still as Hermione, who's on the floor barely five feet away, hit by a purple jet of light that knocked her out instantly. The Hufflepufff runs towards her friend? — girlfriend? — fuck buddy? — Maya doesn't know, but it's too late to stop her. Instead, she tries to hold off the five Death Eaters surging into the room through the door Luna hadn't reached in time.
'Get Potter!' shrieks Bellatrix, and she runs at him; he dodges her and sprints back up the room. Maya's running after Lucius Malfoy, who's murderously striding towards Diana, wand held aloft in his hand.
"Stupefy!" The curse hits him in the chest and he crumples to the ground. Diana exhales a shaky breath, lowering her wand. There are tears glimmering in her eyes. Maya runs to check if she's okay, but Ron distracts her.
'Hey!' says Ron, who has staggered to his feet and is now tottering drunkenly towards Maya, giggling. 'Hey, Maya, there are brains in here, ha ha ha, isn't that weird, Maya?'
'Ron, you need to duck —'
But Ron has already pointed his wand at the tank. 'Honest, Maya, they're brains — look — Accio brain!'
The scene seems momentarily frozen. Harry, Maya, Diana, Ginny and Neville and each of the Death Eaters turns in spite of themselves to watch the top of the tank as a brain bursts from the green liquid like a leaping fish: for a moment it seems suspended in midair, then it soars towards Ron, spinning as it comes, and what looks like ribbons of moving images fly from it, unravelling like rolls of film — 'Ha ha ha, Maya, look at it — ' says Ron, watching it disgorge its gaudy innards, 'Maya, come and touch it; bet it's weird — '
'Ron, NO—' Maya screams, trying to pull him away but it's too late; Ron has already caught the brain in his outstretched hands.
The moment they make contact with his skin, the tentacles begin wrapping themselves around Ron's arms like ropes.
'Maya, look what's happen— No — no — I don't like it — no, stop — stop — '
But the thin ribbons are spinning around Ron's chest now; he tugged and tears at them as the brain is pulled tight against him like an octopus's body.
'Diffindo!' shrieks Maya, trying to sever the feelers wrapping themselves tightly around Ron before her eyes, but they won't break. Ron falls over, still thrashing against his bonds.
'Maya, it'll suffocate him!' screams Ginny, immobilised by her broken ankle on the floor — then a jet of red light flies from one of the Death Eater's wands and hits her squarely in the face. She keels over sideways and lies there unconscious.
'STUBEFY!' shouts Neville, wheeling around and waving Hermione's wand at the oncoming Death Eaters, 'STUBEFY, STUBEFY!'
But nothing happens. One of the Death Eaters shoots their own Stunning Spell at Neville; it misses him by inches.
Harry, Maya and Neville are now the only two left fighting the five Death Eaters, two of whom send off streams of silver light like arrows which miss but leave craters in the wall behind them.
Harry runs for it as Bellatrix Lestrange races right at him: holding the prophecy high above his head, he sprints back up the room, trying to create a diversion. All the Death Eaters race after him as Maya struggles to get the brain octopus off of Ron. He whimpers even in his addled state, and her heart pounds as she sees purple leeching onto his skin.
Without thinking, Maya screams the acid curse Tessa taught her as a last ditch, 'Dinoun Oxy!'. The bright green liquid splatters onto the creature, which immediately screeches and lets go of Ron, writhing and falling to the side. She immediately scrambles to Ron's side, grabbing his shoulders, 'Ron, Ron are you alright?!'
He merely groans, a sickly shade of white. There are sores all over his skin where the tentacles touch him. Maya tries to shake him awake in panic, but Ron doesn't respond. His head falls limply to the side.
No. NO —
'Maya?!' Maya whips around in shock at the familiar voice. Arya Desai stares at her with utter disbelief before hastily dragging her up to her feet and off to the side, 'What on earth are you doing here??'
'What am I doing here?! What are you doing here?!' Maya shrieks, equally as loud.
'Remus called!, ' Arya gestures with her head to the werewolf running after Yaxley, 'Said that the Boy Who Lived and his friends had gone to the Ministry to save Sirius. But how are you involved in all this—'
'Hiya!' Shivani comes running up behind her wife, still in scrubs from work, her coffee-colored hair tied into a neat ponytail. Her relieved expression turns to one of shock as she sees Ron, unconscious on the floor, 'What the fuck happened to him?!'
'Brain mutation, ' Maya breathlessly gestures to the dead creature lying next to him, 'Grabbed him with his tentaces and wouldn't let go, I tried to use an acid curse to set him free but — '
'I'll sort it out, ' declares Shivani. There's a firey glint in her eyes that Maya is equally terrified and happy for, 'Arya, jaan, help Maya hold these bastards off, will you?'
Arya nods at her, sucking in a deep breath. The two women give each other a tight smile of finality before Arya shoves Maya behind her and drags her along, firing spells at the Death Eaters in a deadly, calculated manner.
'Don't you dare leave my side, you hear me?!' hisses Arya; she wrenches Maya back just in time as a deadly jet of red light passes her, 'What in Merlin's saggy balls gave you the idea to go along with something this dangerous?!'
'I didn't really have a choice!!' Maya exclaims, as she hexes Nott with a jelly-legs curse; Arya gives her a look of surprised approval, 'Harry was hysterical, he thought Sirius was going to die—'
'I was going to what, now?'
Arya freezes on the spot; her dark brown eyes grow as wide as saucers. Maya gasps.
Sirius stands in front of them, grinning, alive with scratches on his face and arms. There's a glint in his eye as he gazes at Arya that Maya never thought she would see, 'All right there, Desai?'
Her aunt stares at him shell-shocked for two seconds before tackling him in a bear hug, her body completely wrapped around his. Sirius chuckles as Arya sobs, wrapping his arms around her just as tightly.
'You idiot!' she wails, 'Where the fuck were you for thirteen years?!'
'Oh, you know, just biding my time in Azkaban with the dementors, ' Sirius replies sardonically, 'Never thought they'd be better than me at poker, but the more you know—'
'I was scared shitless!!, ' Arya shrieks, pulling back, arms still around the slightly taller man; Maya eyes Shivani out of the corner of her eye and spots an expression torn between shock and jealousy, 'What happened to you?!'
'Oh, nothing I couldn't handle my dear, ' Sirius waves in an offhand manner, 'Just some scratches, is all'
'Well, well, well, ' a chilling voice speaks from behind them; Maya is suddenly yanked back by her hair, a wand shoved into her neck. Arya and Sirius both freeze, 'Look who's here. The star crossed lovers — '
'Lucius, ' Arya hisses, a murderous expression on her face as she points her wand at him, 'Unhand my niece, or have your brains blown out'
'I didn't know you two were related, ' The tall blond smiles, chillingly, his wand digging further into Maya's flesh as she chokes, 'Not much of a family resemblance, but then again, fuck-ups do seem to be a huge part of the Desai bloodline, don't they?'
Lucius doesn't get time to continue his monologue, as Sirius launches himself at him. His grip on Maya loosens and falls away. Arya pulls Maya back to her side as the two men struggle on the floor.
'Nice one!' shouts Sirius, as Lucius struggles beneath him, at Harry's Petrifying curse hitting Dolohov, as a pair of Stunning Spells fly towards them. 'Now I want you to get out of— '
Maya immediately screams and pulls Arya to the side, a jet of green light narrowly missing the two of them. Sirius manages to land a punch straight across Lucius's face, knocking him out cold.
Shivani joins them, eyeing Sirius coolly, 'Bloody polar bear!, ' she growls, at Lucius Malfoy's unconscious figure, 'Always knew he couldn't handle more than a punch, '
'Malhotra, ' Sirius nods at Shivani, 'Looking well, I see. Sorry, I missed the wedding, a bit tied up, you know, '
'No matter, ' replies Shivani, lacing her arms with Arya, 'Now let's win this thing, '
Across the room Maya sees Tonks fall from halfway up the stone steps, her limp form toppling from stone seat to stone seat and Bellatrix, triumphant, running back towards the fray.
'Harry, take the prophecy, grab Neville and run!' Sirius yells, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Maya doesn't see what happens next; Rookwood blocks her vision, arms outstretched but she manages to Petrify him just in time, his fingernails inches from her face.
'The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!' snarls Yaxley, shoving the tip of his wand in Harry's ribs
Harry flings the prophecy to Maya from across the floor. She jumps, sailing across the smooth marble and catching the glass ball by her fingertips. Yaxley roars and chases after her as Maya sprints, 'Give me that, you hybrid bitch!!'
'In your dreams!, ' Maya yells back, dashing up the stone steps; sweat pours from her temples. She jumps back down just as Yaxley dives at her, skidding on a step as she jumps back down, running past Shivani and Arya, who fight side by side, their hands linked as they fire spells in every possible direction.
'Maya, over here!' Diana suddenly appears in Maya's line of vision; she completely loses her balance and slams her side into a wall. Maya groans, stumbling as her vision sways dangerously, but it immediately turns into a scream as the prophecy falls from her hands, 'NO—'
The glass ball shatters on the ground, wisps of white smoke escaping the wreckage. A pale white figure rises from the shrapnel as Maya stares, frozen with guilt, speaking in tongues she cannot understand—
'Leave it!' Harry shouts, from somewhere in the room, Maya can't see where he is, 'Maya, it's not worth it, come on—'
'Dumbledore, ' says Diana, suddenly, in a breathy voice.
Maya snaps out of her daze, staring bewildered at her friend, 'What?!'
"No — look'
Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stands Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Maya feels relief course through her — they're not so screwed anymore. Dumbledore speeds down the steps past Harry, who's struggling to help Neville up from the floor.
Dumbledore is already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realise he's there and yells to the others. One of the Death Eaters runs for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulls him back as easily and effortlessly as though he has hooked him with an invisible line.
'Bloody cowards!!, ' Diana hisses, as her and Maya return back to join their friends in the action.
Only one pair is still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Sirius ducks Bellatrix's jet of red light: he's laughing at her.
'Come on, you can do better than that!' he yells, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. The second jet of light hits him squarely on the chest.
Diana gasps.
The laughter has not quite died from his face, but his eyes widen in shock. Arya and Shivani go very still. He's jumping down the steps again, pulling out his wand, as Dumbledore, too, turns towards the dais. It seems to take Sirius an age to fall, his body curves in a graceful arc as he sinks backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch. Maya sees the mingled fear and surprise on Sirius Black's wasted, once-handsome face as he falls through the ancient doorway and disappears behind the veil, which flutters for a moment as though in a high wind, then falls back into place.
'No — ' Maya gasps, her voice quivering, she feels tears burning behind her eyelids, 'He — he just — '
Bellatrix Lestrange's screams triumphantly, as tears pour down Maya's face.
This can't be happening — it can't be true —
'SIRIUS!' Harry yells. 'SIRIUS!' He reaches the floor, his breath coming in searing gasps. Lupin grabs Harry around the chest before he can jump into the arch holding him back, 'There's nothing you can do, Harry —
' 'Get him, save him, he's only just gone through!'
' — it's too late, Harry.'
'We can still reach him — '
Harry struggles hard and viciously, but Lupin will not let go, ' . . . There's nothing you can do, Harry . . . nothing . . . he's gone.'
'He hasn't gone!' Harry yells, his voice breaking as Diana chokes on a sob, arms hugging herself.
'Shiv — ' Arya sputters, anguish etched all over her beautiful features, ' Shiv — tell me he's not gone — he — he can't be gone — right?'
Shivani cries harder, shaking her head, furiously, unable to answer.
'No — no — no!!' Arya wails, the sound so heartbreaking that it makes something fracture in Maya's chest; She screams and runs towards the dais, her wife catching her around the middle and dragging her back just in time, 'No — Shivani let me go this instant!!'
'Arya — he's gone, you can't do anything, ' tries Tonks, gently, but Arya still shakes her off, struggling.
'No — no — SIRIUS!!' Arya screams, struggling against both their grips with all her might, 'He can't be gone — Sirius — SIRIUS!!!'
A ringing persists in Maya's ears as she slumps to the ground, collapsing on the floor beside Diana. Her vision is foggy with tears as she curls up in a ball, desperately rocking back and forth.
He's gone. Sirius is gone.
The world suddenly goes black
brb excuse me while i go cry my eyes out
Chapter 42: Chapter 42
Chapter Text
June 2016
CAN YOU MISS SOMEONE THAT YOU NEVER HAD THE CHANCE TO KNOW?
Sirius's death feels like a grandiose cataclysm; wherever she looks, Maya sees the wreckage his demise has left around them. None of her friends can look her in the eye anymore; not after what happened in the Department of Mysteries. Hogwarts seems to have been silenced by the wave of grief that overcomes everyone around her.
They all cope in different ways - Harry lashes out, Diana goes temporarily mute, Ron constantly plays quidditch, Hermione hasn't picked up a single book in ages. It's as though parts of them have died with him, buried in some long-forgotten corner of the local Hogsmeade cemetery.
She wasn't that attached to him — not like Harry, to whom Sirius Black was a second father or Arya, her monumental first love that evolved into her ride-or-die best friend. Maya barely even knew him beyond the secret fire meetings and letters that Harry spoke of, and even then, their interactions were very little. But there was something about him that made her feel comfortable . . . seen . . . safe enough to let her guard down in his presence.
Something Maya's only ever felt with one person before.
Facing Draco Malfoy after she's put his father in Azkaban with her friends is no easy feat; the dark circles under his eyes taunt her of what she's done to his family — what she's taken from them. She's tried to give him some space, but as they board the train back home two weeks back later, something in her feels empty.
'The food trolley's just stopped if you lot want anything . . .' Luna says dreamily, snapping Maya out of her daze.
'Not really that hungry, thanks, ' Maya replies, voice smaller than she likes. Church is happily curled up in her arms, purring and snuggling into her as she scratches behind his ears. After her mother, he's probably the person that holds the deepest place in her heart. She places a tender kiss on the top of his head and settles back against the window, watching the English countryside rush past.
Diana snorts, startling Maya. She's barely said a word in the aftermath, keeping her head down and eyes cast away in the wake of her family being shattered. It's not that she's been avoiding Maya the entire time (after all, they did fight against the Death Eaters together), she's just been absent from her social life in general (and for a very understandable reason). The bright pink is fading from her hair, but reflected in her cheeks as she giggles, pulling away from Luna trying to tickle her into submission, 'For God's sake, Lovegood! Stop it!'
'What?' Luna feigns innocence, shrugging her slender shoulders, 'I was just checking to see whether you had any flitterblooms hidden in your clothes!'
'Yeah, sure' Diana scoffs, leaning her head on the latter's shoulder, 'Like I would ever attract those bloody things, '
'You can't blame me for being worried, ' replies the Hufflepuff, a hint of grin gracing her thin mouth, 'They only gravitate towards those with a beautiful aura, '
Diana turns the reddest Maya's ever seen her, 'Oh shut up!'
'Hey,' says Ron softly, nodding towards the glass window on to the corridor. Maya looks around. Cho is passing, accompanied by Marietta Edgecombe, who's wearing a balaclava. She meets Harry's eyes with an unreadable expression before walking away, hurriedly dragging Marietta along with her.
'I — er — heard she's going out with someone else now,' says Hermione tentatively.
'You're well out of it, mate,' says Ron forcefully. 'I mean, she's quite good-looking and all that, but you want someone a bit more cheerful.'
'She's probably cheerful enough with someone else,' says Harry, shrugging. He doesn't look hurt at all — more like relieved.
'Who's she with now, anyway?' Ron asks Hermione, but it is Ginny who answers. 'Michael Corner,'
'Michael — but — ' says Ron, craning around in his seat to state at her. 'But you were going out with him!'
'Not anymore,' says Ginny resolutely. 'He didn't like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch, and got really sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead.' She scratches her nose absently with the end of her quill, turns The Quibbler upside-down and begins marking her answers.
'Good riddance, ' mutters Maya, ruefully, 'Always thought he was a jerk, anyway'
Ron looks highly delighted. ' Just choose someone — better — next time, ' He casts Harry an oddly furtive look as he said it. Maya rolls her eyes at them both.
'Well, I've chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he's better?' asks Ginny vaguely.
'WHAT?' shouts Ron, upending the chessboard that he and Harry are currently playing on: Church yowls and jumps off of Maya's lap, running after the stray pieces and Hedwig and Pigwidgeon twitter and hoot angrily from overhead. Maya snickers at his look of utter shock.
As the train slows down in the approach to King's Cross, Maya's stomach squeezes in anticipation. They're going to be leaving for New York right after Nandini gets on the platform. Maya's going to be incredibly busy with all the work and research needed for her internship at the Institute (they sent in the acceptance letter two days ago) and she'll have no time to portal to London (if Magnus would even let her, since Nandini will be away for seven months on a mission in Rio). She can't owl Draco; her neighborhood is pet-free and the Institute never has any free birds.
If she wants to make things right, she has to do it now.
'Maya, you coming?' Ron calls from the door; She pauses with her satchel on her shoulder, 'I see your mum on the platform'
'Tell her I'll be a bit late, ' she replies, curtly, fiddling with the tassels hanging from her bag, 'I have some unfinished business to take care of, '
Here goes absolutely nothing.
The Slytherin compartments are at the very back of the train. Maya doesn't know how she manages to get there unnoticed, but it's no easy feat; she stands out like a sore thumb from the robe-clad Slytherins, the few that manage to catch a glimpse of her quickly scurrying out of her way.
Draco sits alone, shutters drawn; in fact, Maya doesn't even know he's in there until he reluctantly slides the door open, shocked as he sees her in the doorway. She sucks in a breath as his silver-grey eyes meet hers, the dark circles beneath making the guilt inside her rise.
'Can we talk?' Maya questions, her heart hammering in her chest with foreboding, 'I promise — this won't take long. Just a few minutes, '
'O-okay, ' he stammers, gesturing for her to come inside. Draco looks beyond bewildered to see her there, shoving the door closed behind him. He runs a hand through his already-unkempt hair, 'What's wrong?'
'I'm so sorry, ' Maya blurts out, sooner than she had intended, 'I didn't mean to let it go this far, '
'For what?' He questions; now Draco looks genuinely confused, 'Maya, are you alright? You're very pale''
'When he saw that Diana was with us — your father, I mean — he freaked out ' Maya stammers, an overwhelming amount of emotions, 'He absolutely flipped —he only reason it didn't escalate was because the prophecies broke and we had to run . Then my aunts came running in and Sirius got into a fight with him; your dad was knocked unconscious and everything went by so fast. I'm so sorry — I wasn't thinking — when the Aurors asked for names he was the first that came to mind and it just slipped out — '
'Maya, if you think I'm blaming you for my father ending up in Azkaban, you're extremely off the mark, ' The tone of his voice is stern.
Maya pauses halfway through her rambling to stare at him with wide eyes, 'What?'
Draco takes a deep breath, it's clear to her that this isn't something he wants to say out loud, 'It wasn't your fault; I can't blame you for something you couldn't control. Besides — , ' he clears his throat, awkwardly looking away, ' — it's not like I never saw it coming, '
'I'm sorry — '
'Stop apologizing, ' Draco immediately flinches at his own harsh tone, 'I'm sorry — I just — I don't want to talk about this right now, '
'That's okay', Maya tentatively takes his hand; to her surprise, he accepts it gratefully, pulling her into a hug.
Draco sighs into her hair, wrapping his arms around her waist in a way that sends butterflies straight through her abdomen. She smiles into his chest, leaning into him just as much as he is to her.
'When I said I wouldn't let you go, I meant it, ' Maya replies, softly, breaking apart to look into his eyes, 'And that includes the way I care about you. If you ever need someone to help you deal with this stuff. . . I'm right here, Draco. All you have to do is let me in, '
The corner of his mouth quirks up as he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, trailing his thumb across her cheekbone, 'I'll keep that in mind, '
Draco kisses her before she expects it; Maya laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, holding steady. The taste of him on her lips is beautifully bittersweet — something you know you shouldn't want, but yearn for in every way.
He makes her feel safe. Not in the way that a parent protects their child, or a dog stands guard by their owner. Draco sees the parts of herself beneath the all-powerful mask — all the core aspects of who she is, good or bad. It makes her feel deliciously vulnerable — maybe a little too transparent for her own good — but Maya can't help but trust him, even after everything that's happened between them
And as she pulls away from him, a few starlit moments later, Maya realizes — that although they may seem completely different on paper —the thought of them together feels right in a way she never expected it would.
'I'm going to miss you like hell, Rajesh, ' he mutters, sadly, as Maya reluctantly steps back, feeling her mother's angry glare from the platform (even though Nandini can't even see what she's up to). She takes out her pen from a pocket inside her bag and scribbles some numbers onto a stray piece of paper, folding it up and handing it to him as fast as she can.
'That's my phone number, ' she replies, seeing his confused expression, 'I can't promise I'll pick up one-hundred-percent of the time, but if you're ever feeling like you need your ego taken down a peg . . . you know how to find me, '
'Don't go looking for trouble, yeah?' he quips, dryly, but Maya can feel the seriousness in his tone as Draco places a kiss on the top of her head that makes her want to melt into a puddle of girl-jello, 'The last thing I'd want is for you to lose your life chasing after some monster or the other, '
'The only monster I'll be chased by is my mother at seven in the morning, ' Maya snorts, as he chuckles, 'Speaking of which, I have to go. I can feel her glaring at me from the platform, '
She kisses him briefly before turning to leave; Draco sighs and lets her go, his fingertips tantalizingly brushing against hers before saying, 'See you next year, then, '
Maya blushes, clearing her throat and standing tall to mask her composure, 'See you too, I guess, '
One thing's for sure; this summer's bound to be interesting when she gets back home.
Chapter 43: Chapter 43
Chapter Text
July 2016
IT STARTS LIKE ANY OTHER NORMAL DAY.
Maya sleeps straight through her seven-o-clock alarm — the weekend with her friends in San Diego having ended five hours before. She wakes up to the sound of Isabelle furiously honking the horn on her Miata, yelling from downstairs that she'll drag Maya out herself if she doesn't show up in the next five minutes.
The entire morning is a blur; Maya manages to throw together a decent-looking white off-shoulder top and denim shorts, grabbing her purse and fixing her unbrushed hair into a messy ponytail as she scrambles downstairs. Tessa is making pancakes for her and a sleepy-looking Mina, who's eating the cut-up strawberries clearly meant for garnishing. The sugary smell of maple syrup tempts her, but as her older sister fixes her with an annoyed glare, Maya's appetite ebbs away.
'Her highness has finally arrived!' Tessa proclaims, half-sarcastically, pointing dramatically with her spatula, 'Good God, what took you so long? That poor girl's been honking out there for half an hour!'
'I'm sorry!' Maya hisses, wobbling as she straps on her trusty heeled sandals (the only shoes that make her look 3 inches taller without absolutely decimating her feet), 'We got back at two a.m. . . . I wasn't exactly going to be bright and bushy-tailed at seven in the morning, '
'Please tell me you're not skipping breakfast, ' The older woman grumbles, as Maya shoots her an apologetic look, 'Last time, you almost fainted — '
'I'm not eight years old anymore, Tess, ' Maya groans; to pacify her, she fishes out a two-day-old KIND bar from her bag, 'I'll eat in the car, okay?'
'Just checking, ' Tessa scrutinizes her with an almost x-ray like expression, 'By the way, who was that guy you were with at King's Cross?'
'Oh, ' Maya recalls the sunlit few moments spent in Draco's compartment, butterflies breaking free from the confines of her chest, 'Just . . a friend, '
'Really?' A coy smile breaks out on her older sister's lips, 'The same friend whom Diana relentlessly teased you about the first time you brought her here?, '
A tint of red breaks out on Maya's cheekbones as she fidgets with the belt loops of her jeans, avoiding eye contact, 'Perhaps, '
'MAYA RAJESH, IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW — ' Isabelle's shrill voice thankfully saves her from embarrassment.
'You'll mutilate my body and feed the remains to Church, I know!!' Maya yells back, 'Give me a moment, will you, woman?!'
'Mama, what does mutilate mean?' Mina questions, as Maya ruffles her hair, muttering a 'Bye kiddo!' as Tessa scowls.
'Nothing you need to worry about, ' Tessa replies, quickly. She sighs as her younger sister attempts to run out the door unnoticed, 'Nine-o-clock curfew, young lady!'
Maya sighs, rolling her eyes, 'Really, Tess?'
'Really. ' Tessa clarifies, matter-of-factly, 'I don't want to take any risks, with all those demon attacks around the city lately'
'Fine, ' Maya groans, knowing she'll have to cut plans short with her friends when they grab drinks at the Hunter's Moon after work, 'Now can I go? I don't want to be turned into mincemeat before I graduate high school, '
'MAYA — '
'Go!' exclaims Tessa, practically shoving her out the door, 'Don't get into any trouble—'
The door slams just in time.
Maya bolts down the steps as fast as she can, avoiding eye contact with an extremely grumpy Isabelle Lightwood. She's wearing her signature dark cat-eye sunglasses, head resting against the steering wheel in exhaustion. Red lipstick haphazardly applied and hair looking like someone's been running their hands through it, something tells Maya that having to be her wake-up call isn't the reason why Isabelle's in such a bad mood.
'Please don't tell me you went back to Meliorn's last night, ' Maya laments, climbing into her seat. Isabelle smirks from underneath her sunglasses, looking conspiratorial, 'Isabelle Sophia Lightwood!'
'I have needs, okay?' The older girl exclaims, starting up the engine once more. The convertible roars to life beneath them as Isabelle starts to speed down the hill Tessa's brownstone is situated on, 'Last night was amazing, bloody hell, I was considering skipping training this morning just so I could stay— '
'You like him that much?' Maya questions, surprised. Isabelle's love life is definitely colorful (Maya sometimes envies how easily she's able to attract people), but something about this particular Seelie is different.
'Oh, you have no idea, ' sighs her best friend, leaning against her seat, 'Hell, if we weren't strictly a fling, I'd consider putting a ring on it,'
'What happened to Miss 'I don't want to commit to anything'?' Maya questions, perturbed; Isabelle, although never cheating on any of her suitors, has a strict philosophy of not being tied down during her uninhibited youth. Living in the moment has always been her forte, but she seems to have completely turned over a new leaf for Meliorn.
'She vanished the moment Meliorn used his tongue to—'
'What have I told you about details?!' Maya interrupts, cheeks flaming as Isabelle snorts, 'Please, Izzy, it's way too early in the morning to traumatize your best friend, '
'Yeah, sure, like you didn't want to do the same thing to English Jack Frost, ' Isabelle snorts, as Maya rolls her eyes, 'Still can't believe you kissed him, I thought it would be the other way around, '
'I did too, ' Maya admits, sighing; something new blooms in her heart, from a planted seed that's been there ever since that fateful day in Umbridge's office, 'But he was there, and in case something happened . . . I don't know, it just felt . . . right, '
'I'm proud of you, ' Isabelle says, softly; she reaches for Maya's hand with a reassuring squeeze, 'You've grown so much since last year. After what happened, I was scared that you would never come out of your shell again, but as always, you've managed to surprise me by powering through, '
'Aww, thanks Iz. That's really kind of you,' Maya smiles sweetly at her best friend, adjusting the scalloped hem of her top; She's always hated wearing white, due to the fact that it represents mourning in the Nephilim world. But something about today just seems different. Besides, it's July! Who would want to be stuck wearing black in 90-degree weather?
'Hey — watch it!' The car screeches to a halt as Maya hisses, her head smacking against the back of her seat. She scowls as Isabelle glares at the two pedestrians who abruptly cut them off, 'Can't you see where you're going?'
There are two teenagers standing in front of the convertible; a tall boy with glasses and curly brown hair, and a tiny redheaded girl, whose figure is half-hidden by her boyfriend's. The boy flushes red in embarassment, awkwardly smoothing down his graphic t-shirt — Maya recognizes the pink-haired boy embalzoned on the front from an anime she once put on out of boredom.
It's the girl who answers first, stepping directly into Maya's line of vision. Her jade-green eyes are set in a hardened glare, freckles dotting her pale skin and features almost elfin in their precision. Something about her is eerily familiar, a familiar hint of deja vu curling in the back of Maya's head, 'Learn how to drive first, '.
'Don't talk to her like that, ' Maya snaps, scowling at the girl. Their eyes meet, and Maya feels an unnatural chill go through her. Somehow, she can't shake the feeling that she recognizes this girl, the sheer amount of deja vu making her head spin.
'Clary, no —' The boy with the glasses grabs her arm, but 'Clary' shakes him off, emerald eyes still furiously fastened on Maya.
'You're the one who almost hit us' she counters, as Maya rolls her eyes. The tone of her voice is high, sharp, and grating, reminding Maya of broken glass against concrete.
'No we didn't, ' Isabelle snaps, 'The light was green. You two decided to conveniently walk in the way, ' Maya tries to maintain her glare, but the ominous feeling inside her persists.
Who is this girl, and why is she so familiar-looking?
'Clary, come on, let's just go, ' The boy tugs at his girlfriend's arm again; he shoots an apologetic glance at both of them, 'It's not worth it, '
The redhead sighs, rolling her eyes. Her boyfriend leads her down the street as the cars around them start to move forward. The woman in the minivan honks furiously behind them; Isabelle groans and accelerates, pushing them back into motion, 'By the Angel, mundanes! They drive me mad, I swear, '
'Have we met anyone named Clary before? ' Maya questions, leaning back in her seat; She watches the two of them run down the sidewalk, a worn sketchbook peeking out from the girl's satchel. Something's not quite right about this . . . . 'I could've sworn I've seen her somewhere . . . '
'No idea, ' Isabelle answers, much to her dismay; Maya bites her lip, deep in thought, 'Maybe the reason you're so fixated on her is because you're now attracted to human carrots instead of ferrets?'
'Izzy I swear to God — '
By three that evening, Maya is a complete disaster.
Not only was she half an hour late for work this morning, but in the six hours that follow, Maya's somehow managed to crack her phone screen, spill an entire soy latte on her brand-new white top, fall off of her office chair three times in a row, and fail to turn in an important interview that she's been working on since last week. She returns to her desk from their last seminar fuming, furiously dabbing at her shirt with a napkin, since some fucking idiot decided that it was incredibly convenient to ban the use of warlock magic inside the New York Institute.
Whatever. If she manages to speed-run paraphrasing and editing her article, before her shift ends in an hour, the three of them (Isabelle, Maya and Jace — Alec has more important business to attend to) are free to crash at the Hunter's Moon, snacking on pretzel sticks and rambling about Nephilim politics, downing not-so-innocent drinks and maybe, if she's lucky, Maya'll be able to get home just in time to return that missed call from Draco that she didn't have the chance to return during her 30-minute lunch break.
Or at least that's what Maya thinks until she's interrupted by a fire message almost exactly when she's about to pack up her things and leave. She yelps in shock, nearly dropping her laptop, managing to catch the metal apparatus with just the tips of her fingers. Maya hastily shoves it into her bag, grabbing the smoking paper before it incinerates itself.
Three words blink up at her from the cream-colored background in Alec's messy handwriting: Debriefing room, urgent.
Maya frowns. The debriefing room is solely reserved for mission planning. She's never been in there, partly because of her mother not wanting her to get involved in Nephilim secrets. But Nandini is on a three-month-long stint in Rio, keeping watch over a particularly risky group of Seelie vigilantes. There's no one left to enforce that rule, although Maya can't imagine that any of the intelligence department would love to deal with her mother's wrath.
So what could they possibly want with her?
However, when she manages to get inside the debriefing room, there's no sign of the stern-looking men and women that make up Nandini's colleagues. Instead, Alec, Isabelle and Jace sit at the round stone table, along with a face Maya would rather forget; Raj, their childhood enemy and son of one of the Clave's most powerful inquisitors — Akshay Nanda.
'Sit down, why don't you?' Raj drawls, in his signature plummy tones; Maya scowls and does as he says — Raj would look ten times more attractive if she slapped that shit-eating grin off of his face.
There's an awkward, tense silence, before Jace finally goes, 'Well, I guess we have to explain this to her, don't we?'
'If this mission was sanctioned by the Clave, we could've avoided that whole scenario' Raj replies, smoothly, as Alec glares daggers at him, 'But since you all are too impatient to wait for authorization, I guess this will have to do, won't it?'
'I can't believe my mother used to compare me to you, ' Isabelle replies, scoffing, 'Perfect, talented Raj. It used to make me feel inadequate — but then I realized I'm never going to have my head that far up my ass, '
'Careful, Isabelle, ' His tone is balanced dangerously on a knife's edge, 'One wrong word, and I might just report this to my father, '
'And have us all thrown in the Gard?' Alec laughs, derisively, 'You're such a fucking coward, Raj, '
'I may be a coward, ' Raj stops, eyes landing determinedly on Maya, a self-assured smirk curling at the corner of his mouth, 'But unlike the three of you, I have some amount of self-preservation, '
'Can someone please explain to me what's happening?' Maya questions, loudly, 'Why am I even here?'
Raj snorts. He looks at Jace, gesturing towards Maya. The blond sneers before speaking.
'We've found another victim for our case, ' Jace says, tersely, 'The same M.O. as the others — found naked, body drained of blood, the rest you already know. But this time, the killer forgot to scrape the corpse clean of all evidence. She had a temporary tattoo on her wrist — from none other than Pandemonium, '
'The nightclub on 57th and Park?' Maya questions, interested.
'Exactly, ' Alec replies, eyes sharp and alight, 'When we examined the security footage from two weeks ago, all of the victims appeared to have gone there regularly. It's not hard to imagine why — drinks, sex, drugs, mundanes are very susceptible to their vices. Whoever's doing this has to be using the club as their base — and as a way to sell the harvested blood to vampires and demons., '
'The only problem is — we can't find a way to get in, ' Isabelle sighs, her tone turning foreboding, 'The building is warded against runes with some kind of curse — I've never seen anything like it. This leaves our last option — go inside through the line with the other Mundanes. But none of us are old enough to legally drink — and getting fake IDs could take too long, '
'That's all fine, ' Maya starts, confused, 'But what do I have to do with all of this?'
'Do you remember a Magnus Bane, by any chance?' Raj drawls. The hairs on the back of Maya's neck stand up in alarm.
'What about him?' Maya questions, a bad gut feeling blossoming in her abdomen.
'He owns Pandemonium, Maya, ' replies Jace, biting the inside of his cheek, 'Magnus decides who goes in and out. He controls everything from the drinks to the music. And since you're basically his adopted daughter . . . . we need you to convince him to let us in, '
'What?!' Maya sputters, in shock, 'That's preposterous! Magnus doesn't deal with Shadowhunters — '
'But he cares about Mundanes, doesn't he?' Raj counters, a malicious glint in his beady eyes, 'They're winding up dead just so that some vampires can have something to sink their fangs into. If the Clave finds out about what's going on, it'll be bad for business,"
''We also need you to come with us, Maya, ' Isabelle says, quietly; She looks up at Maya, her eyes filled with regret.
‘Wait . . . what?’ Maya questions, a nervous laugh escaping her lips, ‘Why do I need to be there?’
‘We’re one person short, ‘ Alec explains, ‘Even with Jace, Izzy and our weapons, we won’t be able to tackle the gang on our own. If you come along, with your magic . . . the four of us could take them down in one go, ‘
‘But — But I’ve never been on a mission before!’ Maya sputters, ‘What exactly do you expect me to do?!’
‘You’re just as good in combat as we are, Maya, don’t even try to deny it, ‘ says Isabelle, sternly, 'Think about it . . . . ' Her voice softens, 'We could save lives if you came with us. Magnus will be able to run his club without worrying about who's going to die next. You could use your powers for good as you've always wanted, '
Maya sighs. This is far from how she was expecting her evening to go. Her friends have always been very adept at keeping her out of their work lives, and she's appreciated them for it. Despite her passion for justice, Maya's never been keen on the idea of working for the New York Institute. They already despise her and everything she stands for, and as much as the idea of protecting the barrier between the human and demon worlds intrigues her, she prefers to stay on the more theoretical side of things.
But it's different when Magnus is involved. Maya doubts he has any idea what's going on beneath his roof — and if he did, no one would be dying in the first place. The events that are taking place are a blatant violation of the Accords, the thin frameworks of codes that maintain the fragile peace between Nephilim and Downworlders. If the Clave somehow catches wind of what's going on . . . . his head will be on the line.
Maya takes a deep breath, steadying herself. Something in her gut seizes, alarm bells going off through her nervous system. This idea is fucked. She knows it, her friends know it, hell, even Church is hesitant, curling his body protectively around her legs as if to dissuade her from agreeing.
'I'll do it, ' She finally breathes out, 'Just this once, '
Isabelle's lush features break out into a catlike grin, 'Wonderful. Now time to get you into uniform, '
It takes over an hour for Maya to convince Magnus to let them in. They go constantly back and forth, with him saying that she's too young to go on such a dangerous mission, that getting involved in Nephilim politics is the very reason Nandini hasn't let her work at the Institute thus far. Maya retorts by arguing that it's the three of them who could lose everything if the Clave catches wind of what's happening at Pandemonium. Innocent mundanes are dying just so some vampires can satisfy their hunger for a night. Besides, she's more than proven herself capable of kicking some demon ass. If she doesn't go, there's no other way for them to end this.
Magnus finally agrees after an eternity, making her swear not to eat or drink anything offered, to stay under the cover of darkness for as long as she can, and to come straight home after the mission is over, because of Merlin's beard, they now have a whole other conversation to be had.
Despite the danger, Maya can't stifle the forbidden sense of excitement in her veins at sneaking out with her friends after so long. Her heart pounds to the beat of the bass as the four of them slip through the crowd, the lights around them flashing neon. There are all sorts of people here; a warlock with curved horns is blowing smoke rings into the air, a pair of werewolves are having a heated debate in a nearby corner, and a voluptuous, scantily clad Seelie girl dancing on stage catches Maya's eye and winks.
To the Mundanes, these people are just the regular Friday night crowd, drinking away their sorrows and dancing like there's no tomorrow. They don't have the Sight, an ability shared by Maya and her part-human friends that enables them to see through the glamours that hide these individuals from the real world.
'Bingo, ' Jace breathes out, eyes fastened onto their target. A woman in a purple mesh dress slinks through the crowd, her lithe body twisting between pairs of groping couples. She discreetly hands a small bag to a pale man wearing a dark red button-up, her hand tantalizingly brushing against his as she walks away. When she turns her face, however, Maya sees her eyes glow a dangerous green, indicating that she's far from your regular mundane drug dealer.
The four of them tail her as discreetly as they can, spreading themselves out. Maya can just make out the figure of Isabelle walking ahead of her, platinum blonde wig almost glowing in the dim light around them. She wobbles slightly in her heels, the cold metal of her knives strapped underneath her skirt sending goosebumps down her flesh. Maya spots Magnus lounging on a nearby couch in a silky purple shirt, his head in the lap of a black woman with caramel curls. She quickens her step before he can spot her.
Up ahead, Maya manages to run fast enough to catch up with Alec, who's tailing Jace directly into the VIP section. They manage to sneak in unnoticed, thanks to her Disillusionment charm. There are fewer people back here; a barman with pierced ears is pouring exotic drinks for a group of shady-looking men in black suits.
'Izzy, now, ' Jace breathes. Maya inhales, shakily.
Isabelle smirks, her hands immediately going to slide the long black coat off of her shoulders. She peels the fabric off, exposing her white latex costume underneath as her heels click towards the stage. She sways her body tantalizingly to the music, eyes glazing over two of the men, who now ogle shamelessly at her slim hips, feet moving of their own accord.
The distraction works; Jace tugs Maya by the arm, Alec keeping watch close to the curtains as the two of them walk up to the woman in the purple dress, sitting at the bar as she stirs her drink with boredom. Jace brushes his hand over her arm and she startles, looking up at the two of them with suspicion.
'We hear you've been peddling Mundane blood, ' Jace drawls, the tone of his voice bordering between seductive and menacing.
The woman smiles, a sinister, cat-like grin, 'Why? Are you looking to score?'
'Definitely not, ' Maya states, slipping onto a stray barstool. One of her hands immediately draws out a knife from under her black dress, placing it on the table as a clear warning, 'But you're going to tell us who is, '
The woman snorts, derisively eyeing the both of them, 'No way in hell. You're both outnumbered here, '
'Oh, I like our odds, ' Jace grins, deviously, the seraph blade lighting up in his hand. His expression forms into a more menacing one, 'Last chance, sweetheart, '
'Watch out!' A shrill voice suddenly screams; Maya's head whips around as the woman in purple is yanked off of her stool. Her stomach drops as a flash of red curls appear in her vision. Green eyes stare back at her in horror.
How is this even possible?!
'Stay out of this!' Maya yells. She pushes the redhead from earlier back, hard enough for her to drop to the floor and slide away. The woman in purple hisses, tentacles launching from her mouth as she launches herself at Jace.
Maya lunges at her, knife whizzing through the air as Isabelle jumps down from her position on the stage. It manages to stick itself into her shoulder, vaporizing the demon into a cloud of dust. The Shadowhunter's silver whip wraps around a burly man's neck as he lunges for Jace, who's preoccupied with the girl who just knocked the Seraph blade out of his hand.
'Are you hurt?!' He questions, helping her up from the ground. Maya wants to scream at him — now is not the time for any of them to try and get bitches. But just then, the man frees himself from Isabelle's clutches, lunging at Jace and knocking the seraph blade straight out of his hand.
Maya tries to grab it, but it's too late — one of the men in black suits lunges toward her and she throws yet another knife. This one misses, however, and Maya doubles back as the man flies at her, hands outstretched as if to grab her neck with them.
'Petrificus Totalus!' she yells, a stream of blue light escaping her fingertips; The man freezes in mid-air as he drops to the ground, still as a corpse.
Her relief barely lasts a millisecond, though; Before she can even blink, another man comes up behind her, grabbing her ponytail and yanking her backward. Maya shrieks, her heels scratching against the ground as she tries to free herself. Her fingers grab her last knife beneath her skirt, fumbling to remove the metal from its holster. But just as suddenly, she falls to the ground, the grip on her hair gone.
Maya hears a startled gasp. She groans, looking up from the floor. her limbs aching from the impact. The redhead stands where the man once was, staring at the seraph blade with horror. To her surprise, it glows just as it did in Jace's hands.
What the fuck?!
He grabs it from her without even noticing, throwing it to Alec, who drives it through the chest of the demon he's trying to fend off. Isabelle helps Maya up from the ground, steadying her on shaky legs. She immediately hexes the bartender, who's leaping over the counter and lunging at the girl in white latex. His eyes roll back in his head and he slumps to the ground.
The redhead immediately bolts, stumbling away from the scene. Maya stops what she's doing, eyes wide as she watches the other girl run away, disappearing through the curtains.
'Hey — get back here!' Maya screams, dropping her knife; Izzy's head whips around as Maya runs after her. Her heels click against the ground as she bursts through the curtains, panting. The girl pushes past Magnus, who's heading towards them. His expression grows murderous before his eyes zero in on the redhead, widening in pure shock.
'S-sorry, ' she mutters, before bolting once more. Maya tails her, ignoring the yells of Magnus, whose voice slowly fades into the distance as she runs.
The boy with glasses from earlier tries to follow his friend as she sprints out the door, two drinks held in his hand, 'Clary!' He yells over the noise of the crowd, confused, 'Clary? Where are you going?'
Maya runs out onto the street, but it's too late. The redhead throws herself into a yellow cab, screaming at the driver to 'Book it!' before the car zooms away. She gasps, sighing in defeat as the girl disappears into the night. Her head spins with a million questions as she leans against a lamppost, Jace immediately running up behind her.
'Where'd she go?!' he questions, furiously, turning to face Maya.
'I don't know!, ' Maya pants out, 'She hailed a cab before I could stop her, '
'Shit!' he swears, running a hand through his blonde hair, 'She saw everything, didn't she?!'
'By the Angel!' Isabelle runs up behind them, panting, 'You two weren't able to find her?'
'Nope, ' Maya sighs in defeat.
'I bet Alec would love this!, ' Jace drawls, sardonically. Maya glares at him; none of them are in the mood for jokes right now.
'Love what?!' Alec pipes up, from behind them. Jace groans, putting his head in his hands as Isabelle exhales sharply.
This isn't going to end well, is it?
MWAHAHA I AM BACK BITCHES. sorry this took so long, i was in a bit of a mental slump after an extremely bad week. hold your horses because things are about to get really wild! anygays, it's one in the morning and i have a big day tomorrow (staying up late writing fanfiction probably wasn't the best idea but we need that quality c o n t e n t here so whatever). stay safe and social distance, and let me know your theories in the comments!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 44: Chapter 44
Chapter Text
July 2016
WAITING FOR JACE TO COME BACK IS AGONIZING.
Tessa is furious at them. 'Why can't Alec or Isabelle just drive you home?!' she exclaims, as Maya paces across the debriefing room floor, still in her black cutout dress from the club, 'If you stay there, things could get very ugly — I don't want you to get involved in Shadowhunter politics, '
'I'm already involved, Tessa, ' Maya sighs; Alec shoots her a look of pity, 'I went on the mission, I killed some demons, I let . . . that girl . . . run away. There's no way I can leave now, not until we figure out what's going on, '
'I can't believe this, ' The older woman fumes, as Isabelle shoots her a look of pity, lying down on a nearby couch, 'You're barely even a month out of school, and already in trouble?!'
'I'm not in trouble, ' Maya scoffs, 'Izzy and Jace tried to get me out of this, but it was impossible — either I go with them and we put a stop to the death of innocent mundanes, or they fail and have to start over from scratch again. Besides, Magnus's head would have been on the line if the Clave found out what was happening at his club, '
'So you decided to put yours there instead?'
'It's not that simple, ' Her tone turns into one of annoyance, 'Look, can we have this conversation later?'
'I don't like this . . I don't like this at all, ' Tessa mutters, darkly, 'Did you at least call your mother? She's probably worried sick, '
'I tried . . . she's not picking up, ' Maya sighs, rubbing her temples to quell the ache inside, 'I texted Magnus to let him know that I'm safe . . . but I'm most probably staying the night, '
Maya hears her older sister sigh in distaste, 'Do you at least have clothes there?'
'I think I have a pair of joggers in my locker, ' Maya answers, 'And before you ask — yes, my anxiety meds are in my bag, '
Tessa lets out an audible sigh of relief, 'Fine. You can stay. Just be careful, alright? The last thing I want is for something to happen to you, '
'My middle name is careful, Tess, ' Maya replies, as her sister lets out a disbelieving snort, 'Anyway, I have to go. Love you, '
'Love you too, angel, ' She hangs up the phone.
Maya leans her head against the wall, groaning as the ache in her temples worsens. She sighs, running her hands through her hair, and starts to unbuckle those dastardly heels from her feet.
This clearly isn't going well.
Alec walks in, throwing Isabelle a sandwich. He offers Maya one, but she declines, the contents of her stomach churning from anxiety.
'How'd it go?' he questions, unwrapping the sandwich from the foil and taking a bite.
'Well . . . Tessa's mad, ' Maya exhales, guilt creeping into her chest, 'But she understands, '
'I just don't get it . . . ' Isabelle mutters, from her position on the couch, 'How was she there? We saw her twice in the same day— '
'Wait, what?' Alec looks bewildered as he looks between them, 'Is there something I'm missing?'
Maya explains, 'Izzy almost ran over the redhead and her boyfriend, on the way to work this morning, '
Alec scoffs, 'And she conveniently ended up at Pandemonium . . . that can't be a coincidence . . . right?'
'I'm not sure, ' Izzy twirls a strand of hair around her finger, 'If that girl was following us, it would've been more obvious. She looked just as horrified as we were, '
'Jace's blade! ' Maya remembers, suddenly, 'It lit up when she touched it . . . only a Shadowhunter would've been able to do that, '
'You think she's one of us?' Alec frowns.
'Could be, ' Maya shrugs.
'She could've also been in the wrong place at the wrong time, ' Isabelle suggests, 'It all happened so fast . . . I don't think that there's just one conclusion, '
'Hey, ' Jace finally walks in, drenched from the rain and panting. Maya exhales, relieved, but it quickly turns to worry as she spots a long, bloody scratch on his forearm.
'What happened to you?' Isabelle enquires, pushing herself off the couch and running to his side. She lightly touches his arm, but Jace flinches away, grabbing his stele before tracing the iratze under his shirt.
'I found her' he breathes out, the wound disappearing, 'A Ravener demon followed her back home to Brooklyn, '
'What?!' Isabelle exclaims, 'How is that even possible?!'
'Someone must've sent it after her, ' Jace mutters, darkly, 'They thought her mother had the mortal cup, '
'What?!' Maya sputters, 'But that's impossible . . . . it's been missing for almost two decades . . . why would a random woman from Brooklyn have it?'
'I don't know, 'Jace sighs, 'But I don't think that we're going to find any answers tonight. Besides, she's passed out in the infirmary. There's not much we can do -- '
'Wait, you brought a mundane into the Institute?!' Alec explodes.
'She's not a mundane, Alec, ' Jace says, rolling his eyes, 'I runed her -- '
'You runed her?!' Maya and Isabelle scream at the same time. Her head feels like it's going to explode from all of the new information.
'Jace, you could've turned her into a Forsaken!!' Isabelle shrieks; Maya's never seen her this livid, 'What is wrong with you?!'
'She lit up the Seraph blade, Izzy, obviously this girl has some sort of angel blood!' Jace yells, frustrated. He sighs and takes a deep breath, rubbing his temples, 'Look, I think we should all just go to bed. It's late and we're all exhausted. One of us should keep watch over her, just in case she wakes up and I'll run her through the database, see if we find anything '
'I'll do it, ' Maya sighs, 'I don't think I'm going to get much sleep tonight anyways, '
'Are you sure?' Isabelle questions, brows furrowed, 'You two haven't exactly gotten along so far . . '
'I'll be fine, Iz, ' Maya replies, standing up, 'Besides, I'm good at dealing with annoying idiots -- ' Her eyes flit to Jace ' -- I've been doing that for years, '
'HEY!!'
It's well past one in the morning, and Maya's still somehow awake.
She doesn't know how; her body is exhausted, sinking into one of the spare mattresses Alec found in the infirmary. But her mind refuses to stop turning its gears (even with a hefty dose of propranolol); agonizing and mulling over the endless possibilities that this night has brought.
The Infirmary is strangely empty for a Friday night — there's not a single Shadowhunter around her with a sprained arm or a dislocated knee. But Maya welcomes the quiet, it's a lovely change from the pounding music in the club still reverberating in her ears. She sighs, fiddling with the hem of an oversized t-shirt that used to be Arjun's.
What's going to happen next?
The girl from the club — or Clarissa, as Jace has found out — is lying on her side, her slender figure curled up against the pillows. She looks like a vibrant butterfly hiding away inside it's cocoon, scarlet hair a stark contrast to the charcoal pillows of the Infirmary. There's one of Jace's old shirts on her back and a purple amulet gleaming at her throat. In the vulnerable moonlight, Clarissa Fray looks far from the dark suspicions that lurk in the back of Maya's head — pale and soft, a light dusting of freckles dusting her nose and cheekbones. It would be almost far too easy to believe that she's nothing but an ordinary high schooler, caught in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But even the most corrupt of poisons melt like sugar on your tongue, and Maya knows better than to be fooled by appearances.
Suddenly, the amulet glows.
Clarissa starts in her sleep, a pained noise leaving her lips, one hand flying up and gripping the necklace. Alarm pounds in Maya's chest; she slides over to the girl's bed, carefully perching herself on the edge and leaning closer. There's something not quite right about that necklace . . . she swears she's seen the stone somewhere before . . . . .
Suddenly, the girl bolts upright, her forehead immediately slamming into Maya's with so much force that she almost falls off the bed. The latter groans, cursing the redhead as she grips her skull, her previously-banished headache now returning in full force. Clarissa grips her amulet in fear, backing away.
'Who the hell are you?!' she demands.
'Relax, will you?' Maya scowls, groaning. She ties her messy hair into a makeshift bun, 'I'm Maya, a friend of Jace's, '
'Jace?' Clarissa frowns, puzzled.
'Tall, cocky little shit, really blond?' She states — a flicker of recognition goes over the girl's face, 'Killed the Ravener demon that followed you home?'
'Oh . . . . ' Surprise is evident in her tone; Clarissa relaxes, 'What are you doing here?'
'I was supposed to be watching over you, to make sure that you don't die or anything ' Maya sighs, dread filling her tone, 'You have demon venom in your veins, it's a miracle you're even alive—'
'She's awake?'
Maya turns around; Isabelle walks in, looking radiant as ever in her satin camisole and shorts.
'Who — who are you guys?' Clarissa stammers, in fear.
'I'm Isabelle, ' The Shadowhunters beauty drawls, sitting down on the other side of the bed, 'I've never seen Jace so curious about a mundane . . . . or distracted. Like you saw earlier, distractions are dangerous in our line of work, '
'I have no clue what you're talking about, ' The redhead states, bluntly.
'You really don't know much, do you?' Maya questions, frowning.
She's clearly come off the wrong way; Clarissa's tone turns venomous, her emerald orbs glare daggers at Maya, 'All I know is that some psychos have taken my mother, and now you people have taken me — '
'And by taken, I assume you mean saved your life?' Isabelle chuckles at the girl's half-confused, half-horrified expression. Maya watches the both of them with unease, a bad gut feeling settling in her stomach.
'A mundane shouldn't even be here, ' Alec grumbles, stumbling inside as he rubs his eyes from lack of sleep — somehow, he's already dressed at this forsaken hour.
'Where is 'here', exactly?' Clarissa questions, completely bewildered.
'She's not a mundane, Alec!' Jace rushes in behind him, also somehow in his mission gear; Maya doesn't miss the way Clarissa's eyes graze over the corded muscles that show through his tight shirt.
'How do you know that?' Alec demands, haughtily, his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at the redhead with utter disdain.
'Because the seraph blade lit up when she touched it!' Jace bursts out, frustrated. He sighs, running a hand through his hair, 'Look, Maya can you — '
Clarissa stares at him with a kind of awe, a certain look that girls normally get in their eyes when they meet her pain-in-the-ass of a best friend. Tall, blond, muscular, a smirk that could make even the strongest of warriors fall to their knees, it seems like he's flown out of a raunchy romance novel. But Maya's never been able to see him as anything other than the menace to society who eats Kit-Kats horizontally instead of breaking them apart as any normal person would do.
'I'm Jace Wayland, ' he replies, taking Maya's place on Clarissa's bed.
'I'm uh -- ' Clarissa stammers, looking dazed.
'Clary Fray, we know who you are, ' Jace interrupts her, to Maya's surprise.
'We do?' Maya whispers to Isabelle, who mutters an incredulous, 'Well he does, apparently, '
'Am I the only one who finds this unusual?' Alec states, distrust laced into his tone.
Jace brushes him off, 'You find everything unusual, Alec, '
'We have to report this to the Clave —' Alec starts, but Maya interrupts him.
'Are you mental?' Maya scoffs, 'They'll skin us alive!, '
'Dial it down a notch, ' Jace rolls his eyes at his parabatai in an offhand manner.
'My brother doesn't have a dial, ' Isabelle's face breaks into a sensuous smirk, 'I love you, Alec, but you have a switch that's always on, '
Alec smiles in the most sarcastic way possible, 'Love you too, Izzy. But this — ' His expression grows grave as he gestures to Clary, who looks at him with a certain apprehension normally reserved for alley cats.
'Hey, you know what? Give me a minute, ' Jace sighs as Alec's lips form themselves into a thin line, 'Here's a word you never hear me say — please?'
'What is with you?!' Alec bursts out, his voice loud enough to make Maya jump; Isabelle gets up from her chair, trying to calm him down, 'Really, no, what is with him?!'
'Walk with me, big brother, ' Isabelle starts to lead him out of the room. She gives Maya a pointed look, gesturing for her to come with them. Maya groans, annoyed, but does it anyway, her bare feet pattering along the tiled floors at the Institute.
'I'll explain it to you both, okay?' Isabelle sighs, one of her arms linking with Maya's; the shorter girl sighs and leans her head against the Shadowhunter's shoulder.
'Izzy, we don't know this girl, ' Alec persists, his deep voice growing heated, 'There's no such thing as new Shadowhunters!'
'There is now, ' she replies, all too calmly for someone who's just seen a tiny mundane slice down a demon with her bare hands.
'I can't believe this, ' Maya mutters, 'First day on the job and everything's already going wrong, '
'You don't find this the least bit strange? ' Alec questions.
Something in Isabelle snaps; the set of her shoulders turns rigid, 'What I find strange, Alec, is that you're so upset. Maybe what's actually irritating you is the way Jace is looking at her, ' Her brother stiffens as Isabelle laughs, 'You know, you should be happy that Jace is finally interested in someone other than himself, '
'Izzy, this isn't the time to go there — ' Maya starts, but Alec interrupts her.
'Maybe I'm pissed that she's ruined the mission, ' Alec counters. There's a sudden hardness to his voice that wasn't there before. He glares down at his sister, then Maya, 'You two should get dressed. This isn't going to end anytime soon, '
Alec may be the New York Institute's most talented archer, Maya thinks to herself, but his greatest talents are in the feat of denial.
'Really, Izzy?' Maya huffs, pulling down the hem of her friend's top as she looks in the mirror. Isabelle's been nice enough to lend her some of her spare clothes, but as Maya scrutinizes the barely there-straps and too-short hem that's even more accentuated by the tie-up waist, she wonders if the Shadowhunter's one true goal in life is to embarrass her.
'Oh, lighten up!' Isabelle snaps, adjusting the neckline so it falls lower; Maya quickly yanks it back to it's original position, 'You look hot, '
'You look hot, ' Maya corrects, frostily, noting Isabelle's dark blue zip-up dress, hugging her sensual curves just right, 'I, however, look like a wannabe dominatrix, ' She throws on a leather jacket over the whole thing, praying that no unwanted bits of her body slip and expose themselves.
'What's wrong with that?' Isabelle questions, as they walk out of her room, 'You're a naturally assertive person; it's only fair that you dominate your first impressions as well, '
'I highly doubt that's true, ' Maya's annoyed expression changes to one of curiosity as a familiar scent reaches her nostrils, 'Is that . . . . coffee?'
'Komodo Dragon . . . . ' Isabelle confirms, breathily, 'Alec used the Starbucks blend . . . '
They both dash to the source of the delicious smell; Maya spots the tray and grabs the biggest mug humanly possible, sweetening the dark liquid with cream and sugar. Isabelle just rolls her eyes, taking one look at Maya's cup and taking a sip of her black coffee.
'Don't you think my brother's being a little too . . . . . hostile?' Isabelle quips as Maya takes a sip of her drink. A warm feeling fills her veins, the dull ache of her headache disappearing.
'I don't know, ' Maya replies, warily; She stirs her coffee in thought, 'I don't really blame him, to be honest. This whole thing is a little too convenient to be a fluke . . . . '
'You can't possibly think this girl's a spy, can you?'
'Izzy, there are people after her who want the mortal cup, ' Maya sighs, 'She was able to conveniently stab that guy at the club with the seraph blade, which, mind you — shouldn't have even lit up for her. How can you possibly think she's just a bystander?'
'Look, I don't think Clary's completely innocent, ' Isabelle twirls a strand of her hair around her finger, 'But if she wanted to hurt us, wouldn't she have done it by now?'
'Where is she?' Alec runs up to them in a panic, his chest heaving up and down.
'Where's who?' Maya questions, alarmed.
'Clary's stuff is gone,' He looks at them with petrified eyes.
'She was with Jace, wasn't she?'' Isabelle asks.
'Yeah, but they said something about going and meeting that friend of hers, ' Alec sighs, rubbing the back of her neck.
'Simon, ' A lightbulb goes off in Maya's head, 'He must've come here to look for her, '
'He's outside?!' Isabelle's eyes widen, 'How'd he even find out where the Institute is?!'
'He probably doesn't even know what it is, ' Maya assures her, slowly slipping off the counter and adjusting her jacket, 'But we can't let her leave — not after what's happened, not after what she saw, '
'You can't go out there by yourself—' Alec starts.
'I'll be fine, ' Maya assures him, 'I have my weapons, I can deal with him in case things go wrong, '
'Maya—' Isabelle starts, hesitantly.
'Look, just wait here for me, okay?' Maya explains, 'I'll be back in a second, '
Maya ignores their protests behind her as she bolts, pushing past Shadowhunters who huff and shoot her dirty looks on her way to the entrance. She runs out through the doors before anyone can stop her, knife in her hand as a precaution.
Clary and her friend are lit up by the moonlight. They're in an argument; Simon's saying something Maya can't decipher, his hands on Clary's shoulders as he lays his jacket over her. She's pleading with him, tugging his wrist as Isabelle's clothes hang loose on her petite frame. Jace is standing nearby, looking bored; He's activated his invisibility rune, Maya realizes.
Suddenly, a man in a black suit appears from the shadows; Maya's eyes widen as she sees the rune branded onto his neck. A large, red circle, looking as though something's carved it into his skin.
No. No, this can't be possible. The Circle died with Valentine years ago. There's barely any of them left alive . . . .
'Hey!' Maya screams, as she realizes he's going for the redhead, 'Clary, get out of the way—'
But there's no reason for her to worry; Jace attacks him from behind, tackling the man with his whole body as Maya runs out onto the grass. She shoves Simon away from the scene, grabbing Clary by the arm and yanking her as well.
'You — ' Simon's face turns white in recognition, 'I've seen you before — '
'When I almost ran you over this morning?' Maya questions, breathily, her chest heaving up and down, 'Yeah . . . sorry about that, '
'What the hell is she doing here?!' he whispers to Clary, through gritted teeth. His eyes then multiply in size as he sees her terrified expression. She's staring directly at Jace and the Circle member fighting on the ground, a horrified gasp leaving her lips as the man lands a particularly nasty punch to Jace's face.
'If you give us the girl, I'll let you live, ' he whispers, sinisterly. Jace laughs, flipping them over and dragging him from the ground, blade at his throat.
'You're in no position to be making rules, ' he hisses, as Clary gasps.
'Clary, what's going on? What're you looking at?' Simon questions, scared. Maya realizes that he can't see any of what's currently happening.
'We'll never stop hunting her!' The man hisses, struggling in his hold. Something in Jace snaps as Maya's fingers tighten around her knife.
'This is for my father! ' Jace growls, before plunging his knife into the man's chest. Clary screams as Maya chokes. The man sputters for breath, choking and going still before dropping to the ground.
'Jace!!' Clary screams, in outrage.
'Excuse me?' Simon looks extremely confused.
'Is he dead?!' The redhead demands, furiously, stepping closer.
'Is who dead?!' Simon yells, bewildered. His eyes go wide as he stares at the mangled body of the Circle member on the ground, apparently able to see him, 'What the fuck—'
'Could you — deglamourize — or whatever, so my best friend doesn't think I'm losing my mind?!' Clary huffs. Jace laughs, before grabbing his stele and tracing a rune on his arm. Simon gasps as he catches sight of the Shadowhunter.
'Um . . . ' Simon swallows, looking fearful, 'What's going on?'
'Yeah, we don't have the luxury right now, kid, ' Jace sighs, apparently displeased at his presence, 'Everyone back inside!, '
'Clary, who is this?' The bespectacled boy looks genuinely confused, 'Your meth dealer? '
Maya snorts, unable to stop herself, 'That's a first, '
Clarissa narrows her eyes at the body on the ground, 'I've seen him before . . . at the police station, '
Jace's face turns pale, 'He's a member of the Circle. Clary, he was here for you'
Clary's posture visibly stiffens, 'He's with the people who took my mother . . . '
'Your little best friend here led him right to you, ' Jace gestures to Simon, who's edging away from him with apprehension.
'There's a dead body here, ' The mundane breathes out, horrified, 'We have to call Luke . . . '
'We can't trust Luke anymore, Simon, ' Clary interrupts, fiercely. Maya sees a glimmer of hurt in her eyes.
Jace sighs, 'Clary, I need to help keep you safe. I promise, we'll help you find your mother. But you're one of us. You're a Shadowhunter — '
'Jace, this is not the time for a pep talk — , ' Maya starts, but Simon beats her to it.
'Clary, you don’t know these people, all right?' He pulls her to the side, looking urgent, 'Come with me. I can get us help. . . '
'Clary, please' Jace grabs her by the wrist, tugging him towards her
'Clary, come on.' Simon pleads, grabbing her arm.
'Oh God . . . ' mutters Maya, putting her head in her hands.
Clary sighs, looking between the two boys for a moment. She gently lets go of Simon's hand, his face turning into one of shock, 'Simon, I think Jace can help us, '
'What?!' Simon sputters, bewildered.
'Come on, ' she persists, pulling him with her.
'How do we know this Mick Jagger-looking guy is even gonna try-' Simon persists.
Jace's face turns stony, 'Mundane, we do not have the time —'
Clary sighs, 'Come on, Simon. Let’s go with them. '
This is going to be fun, isn't it?
ahahaha here we are! i meant to update during the weekend but unfortunately got really sick. some life stuff's been kicking me in the ass lately, so i haven't really had much time to write, but i'm back now and (hopefully) figuring out how to write episodes! it's a little harder than i thought, but we're getting there. anygays, i have homework to do, so stay safe and hope you enjoyed the chapter!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 45: Chapter 45
Chapter Text
July 2016
UNTIL NOW, MAYA'S NEVER REALIZED HOW LITTLE SHE KNOWS ABOUT THE CIRCLE.
All she's ever heard are rumors, fables, scraps of fabric woven together to make a mismatched quilt. The Shadowhunters are forbidden to even speak about it — even though it's a part of their history, the truth of what happened is murky, unclear, the few survivors of the aftermath either dead or in hiding.
Nandini was still in secondary school when a rogue Shadowhunter named Valentine Morgenstern formed the Circle with his close circle of friends. Their purpose was to create change in the laws and the society of the Shadow world — to make it a safer place for the vulnerable, marginalized humans that they were supposed to protect. They wanted to rewrite existence, sacrifice their youth in nobility so that the Mundanes could live out their lives in peace.
Or rather, that's what everyone else thought.
But not all that glitters is true gold, and Valentine's idealism turned out to be nothing but a sham — in order to purify their universe and make it safer for humans, his ultimate goal would become to eradicate all demons and Downworlders from the Shadow world. The Shadowhunters had never realized the lengths Valentine was willing to go for peace, the lives he was willing to sacrifice. He became power-hungry, obsessed with his one true goal. Maya shudders as she recalls the gruesome anecdotes Magnus would mention as cautionary tales —warlocks dead in the streets . . . vampires with their teeth taken out, blood dripping from the place where their fangs used to be . . . .
If he had succeeded, only half of her family would even be alive.
No one knows who set the fire to the Morgenstern manor — Maya suspects that no one even wanted to know, given what was happening at the time. But Valentine's charred body was found alongside his son's inside the wreckage, marking the end of a particularly dark time in Nephilim history. The traitors were captured, the responsible were punished, the deaths of those with demon blood slowly ceased.
At least, until now.
For, as Maya overhears from Hodge, coming out of the bathroom as he explains their history to Clary and Jace, Jocelyn Fray was a former Circle member. And her daughter doesn't seem very happy about it
She runs after Jace, who chases a fuming Clary down the hallway, 'Clary, look, will you just calm down?!'
The redhead whirls around, her emerald eyes piercing as she shrieks, 'Calm down? Really, calm down?, ' She scoffs, glaring at him, 'Okay, Jace, you might be some kind of emotionless G.I. Joe, but—
'I-' Jace looks spectacularly confused, 'What is a G.I. Joe?'
Clary sighs, 'A soldier who doesn’t understand human emotions. Who doesn’t know what it’s like to lose someone, to lose your own mother —'
'Hey, ' Maya interrupts, her eyes flashing at Clary. She doesn't notice the way Jace stiffens behind her at the mention of his parents — both of them killed in the bloody aftermath that followed the end of the Circle.
'You’re right, ' He says, stiffly, eyes downcast, 'I never knew my mother'
Clary's face pales, she swallows, deeply, looking as though she now wants to swallow her earlier words, 'I didn’t know.'
Jace scoffs, his tone hardening, 'That’s precisely my point. You don’t know anything about this. You don’t know about me, you don’t know about my life… but in the Shadow World, no training and no plan gets you killed., '
Clary exhales, slowly, thinking, 'Okay, so we know that Valentine is back and wants the Cup . . . . and for some reason he thinks my mother has it.'
'Could she?' Jace questions, desperately, 'Have the Cup?'
'I don't know, ' Her tone is somewhere between anger and frustration.
Jace sigh, 'Look, Clary, you know about runes. You’ve drawn them. You… you know something. Think, please.'
'I’ve tried, Jace, okay?!' Clary bursts out, angry. Her expression changes to one of frustration, 'It’s just this empty blackness . . . .'
A lightbulb goes off in Maya's head, she breathes out 'Your memory’s been wiped'
'That’s not possible— ' Clary starts, then stops herself, 'Is it?'
'Absolutely. . . ' Jace sighs,'If you know a warlock, '
'A warlock?' She now looks confused.
'Yeah, a warlock, Clary, ' Jace grumbles, running a hand through his golden hair, 'That's what Maya is, '
'We're immortal beings, ' Maya explains, seeing Clary's confused expression,' Half-demon, half-human. Sometimes our fingers spark, ' She snaps hers just for effect, blue sparks shooting out of the tips.
'Dot, my mom’s assistant!' Clary exclaims, suddenly, 'Her hands had this purple glow when she opened the wall, and my mom pushed me through and I ended up at the police station, '
'That was a Portal, ' Jace clarifies, 'Only warlocks can create them.'
'Wait, ' Clary wonders, her words slow, 'So you’re saying if we find the real Dot . . . . she could help us find the Cup and get my mom back?'
'Unless she’s working for Valentine' Maya counters, crossing her arms over her chest.
Clary smirks, an expression smoother than a hot knife through butter, 'Even better. She’ll lead us right to him, ' She walks away, 'Where’s Simon?'
Pandemonium looks much less intimidating in the early twilight.
Maya and Jace approach the building through an alleyway connecting to the back entrance, Clary and the Lightwoods walking ahead of them. The neon sign hanging above flickers ominously, reflecting off of the dark, opaque glass of the club windows. It's almost taunting her, in a way, reminding her of what she could have had.
If she lived a different life, Maya supposes, she'd be one of the mundanes stumbling back home around them on a breezy summer night, after sneaking out Tessa's guest bedroom window, downing fluorescent cocktails and kissing under euphoric neon lights. There's something inherently forbidden about Downworld nightlife that's always intrigued Maya. Risking her ephemeral youth under the cover of darkness, the long fingers of a stranger wrapped around her hips, losing all her inhibitions should sound reckless, a poor decision that gambles her life away in a coin toss.
But right now, it seems nothing but freeing.
Suddenly, Clary gasps beside them, going as white as a sheet. Her slender hands fly to the amulet wrapped around her throat. There's something otherworldly about the way her emerald spheres glaze over, her entire body freezing to the spot.
'What's going on?!' Maya demands, panicked. She snaps her fingers in front of Clary's face, but the girl remains in a trance, eyes frozen wide with terror, 'Fray?! Hello?'
'She's must be having another vision . . . ' Isabelle mutters, 'That's what led us here in the first place . . . '
Just as soon as it started, the trance stops. Clary exhales, rapidly blinking her eyes. She races forward, voice high and terrified, 'No — no!!'
Jace grabs her arm, 'Clary! Clary, stop! Where are you going?'
She whirls around to face him, 'Two men, Circle members… the same ones who came to my house, who took my mom. They have Dot. They’re gonna hurt her or kill her. We have to stop them!'
The six of them rush forward into the building, their heavy footfalls echoing through the empty streets. The door to the club is hanging by it's hinges, wood singed and marred by burn marks. There's no sign of anyone inside — and as Maya races into the empty hall, she realizes why.
The place looks an atom bomb has exploded inside — all of Magnus's elaborate furniture decor have been smashed to pieces, burned and ripped apart. Maya's boots crunch on the broken glass scattered on the floor, rivers of exotic alcohol flowing onto the concrete from their shattered bottles. The telltale hum of magic hangs in the air, rippling against her skin. It seems that someone — or something — has gotten here before them, destroying the evidence — and as Maya dials Magnus's cell phone, heart racing in panic when he doesn't pick up — possibly taking prisoners.
'No . . . ., ' Clary whimpers, voice cracking as she touches her necklace, the purple stone now dormant, 'She was just trying to help me . . . and now, she’s gone, '
Simon delicately touches Clary's shoulders, as if he's afraid of breaking her, 'Clary . . . . I’m sorry, '
Clary whirls around, furious. Her eyes are glimmering with tears, 'You don’t understand. Dot’s like my big sister — '
Alec interrupts her, face ashy and grave, 'It’s not safe here. We need to go back to the Institute, right now. '
Clary scoffs, tone bordering on hysterical, 'So, what now? Valentine has my mom and Dot, and we’re giving up? What about my memories? They can’t just be gone, right?'
Jace sighs as the weight of Clary's words sink in. Maya knows what he's about to say before it even comes out of his mouth, 'There’s another option . . . '
'Jace!' Maya hisses, her eyes flashing red.
'Absolutely fucking not, ' Alec states, plainly, as Isabelle glares at her brother.
Jace crosses him arms over his chest in an attempt to look tough, though Maya can hear the uncertainty in his voice, 'I’m not afraid of the Silent Brothers, '
'Who are the Silent Brothers?' Clary questions, inquisitively.
'They're elite Shadowhunters, ' Maya sighs, 'Extremely powerful, '
Isabelle finishes her sentence, 'And also possess the ability to recover memories, '
'A process that can also kill you, so there’s that, ' Alec retorts, dryly.
'Your bedside manner is abysmal, ' Simon quips at Alec, tone turning nervous as the six-foot-three Shadowhunter fixes him with a death glare.
Alec turns to Jace, voice stern, 'We’ve broken at least eighteen Clave rules and now you want to go to the City of Bones? No way. I won’t allow it, '
'This isn't about what you'll allow, Alec, ' Jace's voice hardens considerably, 'This is Clary’s decision, '
'Jace, have you gone insane?!' Maya snaps, 'Do you even know what you're asking of her?'
'She's not prepared, ' Isabelle pleads, turning to her brother, 'Jace, you can't do this. She doesn't know about the consequences, '
'If anyone can tell me another way to recover my memories and still get the answers we need, I’m listening, ' Clary snaps, interrupting their argument.
The room goes dead silent. Maya exhales, slowly, her chest tightening with fear. This is spiraling in a way she never expected it to.
The redhead looks triumphant, 'That settles it, '
Jace grins, bashfully running a hand through his hair, 'See?' He turns to the rest of them determined, 'I told you she’s one of us, '
Of all the times Maya's wanted to slap Jace into tomorrow, this moment has to be the hardest to resist.
It's almost ironic, how the City Of Bones lives up to it's name.
Maya nearly trips getting out of Simon's van after they park under the FDR overpass, her ankles sore and tired from running around New York all night. The desolate landscape stares back at them with a feeling of resolute disappointment. Old, cracked tombstones spring up from the ground, their worn names obscured by years of graffiti and grime. Alec grimaces at the lack of a trash can in sight, used needles and empty beer cans clustered on the soil. Maya's stomach turns as she glances at an old porcelain doll hanging from the mirror of an abandoned car — it glumly stares at her with one glassy eye, the other crushed in pieces on the ground.
'Yeah, this place isn’t creepy at all, ' Simon shudders, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself.
Isabelle chuckles, 'Don’t tell me you’re afraid,’
Simon scoffs, standing up straight and folding his arms over his chest in an attempt to look tougher, 'Are you kidding me? I was born afraid, ' — Maya can't hold back the snort that escapes her lips at this —, '. . . . . which sounded a lot better in my head.'
'Let’s check it out, ' Alec interrupts, warily. He pulls the four of them aside, Clary and Simon momentarily staying behind with the vehicle.
'Hey. If something goes wrong… if something happens to her, that’s on us, ' Alec states to Jace, his tone stern, 'You know that, don’t you?'
Jace stands up straighter, a hardened look in his eyes, 'Yeah. And you know exactly what’d happen if Valentine gets the Cup before we do, ' He sighs, looking back at the redhead, 'She’s lost everything, Alec. I know exactly what that feels like. And what’s your problem with her, anyway? Your family always used to welcome strays'
Alec's expression softens, 'You were never a stray, '
'The point is, nothing’s changed, ' Jace continues. His eyes flit to Izzy, then rest on Maya, 'We’re in this fight together. There’s just… one more of us, '
'Hopefully that's true, ' Maya replies, uneasy. She glances at Clary, who immediately looks away from her as soon as their eyes meet, 'Otherwise, the Clave will skin us alive, '
'You have to understand, Clary, ' Jace persists, as the six of them approach the bronze door. A gleaming skull glares back at them, carved into the metal like a curse, 'The Silent Brothers are not like us, '
'They lack your charm and superior people skills?' Clary raises her eyebrows.
Jace rolls his eyes, annoyed, though the corner of his mouth turns up, 'Yeah, most people do. Brothers communicate without using words, using just their thoughts.'
Clary frowns, 'That doesn’t sound so bad'
His tone becomes more serious, 'Don’t let their silence fool you. They’ll hold the Soul-Sword to your head, and with its blade, carve the truth from your mind. If you’re not strong enough, you will die, '
Clary's face twists into a grimace. She exhales, slowly, ' I take it back. That sounds level ten bad.'
Jace sighs, rubbing his temples, 'Clary, you should know, the pain will be excruciating. You don’t have to—'
'Jace, I’ll do anything, ' Clary interrupts him. Her tone has a certain ferocity to it, like a sharpened blade, 'Walk through fire, battle demons, whatever it takes. I have to get my mom back. I can’t… I won’t lose her, '
'You won’t, ' Jace states, determined. He quickly corrects himself, 'We won’t, '
Clary exhales, a great gust of air escaping her lips. She looks at the door with apprehension, 'I can do this . . . . right?'
'Yeah, you can! ' Simon encourages; Maya's heart hurts with how sincere he sounds, 'You’re Clary freakin’ Fray. You can do anything, '
He rushes forward, as if to join them. However, Jace's arm pushes him back just in time, 'All right, hold up — '
'Well surprise, surprise. No mundanes allowed, just like in the training room, right? Wrong!!' Simon bursts out, glaring daggers at the Shadowhunter, 'I’ve seen every horror movie ever made and the funny best friend who gets left behind? ' His hand jerks across his neck as if to slit his own throat, 'Dead man, '
Maya can't help herself; She lets out a snort at his antics. Isabelle watches him with amusement.
Jace rolls his eyes, 'You’re not that funny. But by all means, go ahead, ' He gestures to the door. Simon steps up to it, looking confident, 'Of course, the minute you enter, you’ll die, '
Simon huffs, teeth clenching as he turns around, pointing an accusing finger at Jace, 'Problem is, now I don’t trust you, '
'He’s not lying, ' Alec retorts.
'He was before, ' Maya grumbles, countering him.
Alec's tone drips with sarcasm as he gestures to the door, 'The rune energy in the City of Bones will kill any mundane who dares to enter, so, please…'
Isabelle shudders, 'The Brothers creep me out. I’ll mind the mundane, '
'Your sacrifice is noted, Izzy, ' Jace snaps, irritated. Isabelle just rolls her eyes at him, an indignant snort escaping her lips.
'Talk about sacrifice. I’m missing a financial analysis class! ' Simon laments.
Alec looks at him incredulously, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. He looks at his parabatai as if the latter deserves to be hit in the face with a chair, 'I can’t be here anymore, so, Jace, I’m gonna mind the perimeter.
Clary sighs, 'Simon . . . I don’t want to leave you here, '
Maya rolls her eyes, 'Relax, Fray. We won't harm a hair on his head, '
Simon ignores the sarcasm in Maya’s tone, turning back to face his friend, eyes wide and earnest, ‘Go be a badass Shadowhunter, all right? Get your memories back, save your mother. I’ll be right here…, ‘ He hesitates, looking around at their morose surroundings, ‘ . . . . guarding the entrance to hell, ‘
Clary immediately pulls him into a hug, burying her small face in his chest. Simon sighs, wrapping his arms around her as tight as he can. He seems more nervous than her, Maya notices, biting her lip in concentration. It's clear that Simon cares about Clary more than he lets on — the stolen glances, throwaway touches, the sparkle in his eyes whenever she opens her mouth, Maya has an inkling that his relationship with her might stretch a little bit more than the platonic precipice of friendship.
'Clary, ' Jace sighs, breaking up their sweet moment in that cockblock-esque way of his, 'You don’t keep the Silent Brothers waiting, '
Simon steps away, flashing her an encouraging smile, 'You've got this, Clary, '
Maya watches the two of them climb down the darkened spiral staircase leading to the catacombs, Jace's lanky figure growing smaller and smaller until he's completely gone. Isabelle stands next to Simon, arm wrapped around his shoulder — Maya can't even fathom how she's so comfortable with someone she didn't even know until half an hour ago.
'They’re getting to be quite the team, aren't they?' Isabelle quips, a wry laugh escaping her lips, 'Amusing.'
Simon's eyes narrow with suspicion as he crosses his arms over his chest, 'No . . . not really, '
'Come on, Magnus . . . .' Maya mutters, her heart spiking in anxiety as her phone call is ignored yet another time, 'Fuck, '
'He's probably fine, Maya' Izzy tries to reassure her; She reaches out to touch her arm in a way meant to be comforting, but Maya immediately flinches away. Her skin feels hot and prickly with dread, she has to fight the urge to regurgitate the tofu pad thai from lunch onto the littered ground beneath them.
He hasn't picked up even once.
Maya's sensibilities try to come to the most rational conclusion as to why the vibrant warlock isn't answering his cell — Greenpoint isn't the only place Magnus has an apartment, he could be hiding out somewhere upstate with no signal. Maybe his battery is dead and he hasn't noticed the 30 missed calls that Maya's sure would've appeared on the notifications bar by now. Her mind spirals into a darker abyss by the second, scenario after scenario going through her head. Maya paces around the tombstones, anxiety deepening further. She can't stop picturing him lying dead in a ditch, crimson staining New York's burnt sienna soil as blood pools from the slit going through his throat.
The Circle are famous for their brutal murders of the Downworld community. She's seen the pictures, heard the stories. Maya knows that Magnus is smart enough not to draw attention to himself when people are out for his blood, but a paranoid part of herself can't help but fear for the absolute worst — that he ends up mutilated, or worse, dead.
'So . . . . . ' Simon starts, breaking the pink-drop silence that surrounds the four of them as he warms his hands over a fire, 's cracking someone’s mind open supposed to take this long? Maybe we — ' His eyes flit to Alec, ' — or you should go check?'
Alec looks at him with an impassive face, ''Jace has it covered, '
'Take my word for it, ' Isabelle purrs, in a way that makes the tips of Simon's ears turns red, 'The Silent Brothers are quite unpleasant'
Isabelle sighs, raising her eyebrow at Maya. There's a familiar expression on her face — Maya's used to getting that look from her whenever she pushes the Shadowhunter away, in an effort to spare Isabelle from the grievance of her own emotions.
It's not like she's trying to hurt her friends on purpose, more the exact opposite. It's volatile, the way her emotions stew inside her, like a bomb ticking away, waiting to explode. Combined with her already unstable magic, Isabelle might actually get unintentionally harmed if she pushes Maya too hard and makes her lose control. She steels herself, pushing down the sick feeling in her stomach and painting an expression of neutrality onto her face. Maya digs her nails into the thin fabric of the black Giants hoodie that used to be Arjun's, heart palpitating a million miles an hour.
Simon paces along the cobblestones, his voice almost hysterical with paranoia, 'What if Clary can’t handle the Brothers? What does that—'
'It literally never stops talking, ' Alec scoffs.
Simon's voice drips with malice, 'Is he always so charming?'
'Firstborn, ' Isabelle sighs, 'Heavy is the head that wears the crown, '
'Mmm, ' Simon mutters, going back to warming his hands over the trash-can fire, 'I feel his pain. Only son. Mother wants me to be a CPA, '
Isabelle steps closer to him, interested, her heeled boots crunching over the dead branches and leaves beneath them, 'And you? What do you want?'
'Me?' Simon sputters, clearly not expecting her to be so near in his proximity, 'Um… well, I’m in a band'
'Yeah?' Isabelle grins, 'What type of music? Let me guess . . . , ' She points a gloved, slender finger at him, 'Indie rock?'
'Yeah . . . ' Simon looks somewhere between awed and dazed.
'Got anything on your phone?' Isabelle questions, eyes drifting to his hoodie pocket.
'I do. We recorded our last set. We killed it, it’s…, ' He fumbles with his hoodie for a few seconds before sighing and looking up at Isabelle with an expression of discontent, 'I left my phone in the van.'
Isabelle answers, a little too quickly to be normal, 'Let’s go get it'
Simon seems to think her intentions are genuine; He smiles at her in a way that reminds Maya of a lost puppy, 'Yeah?'
Isabelle's smile stretches out in a way that edges between the precipice of sinister and catlike, 'Yeah, '
'Where do you think you're going?' Alec, ever the voice of reason, questions, as the two of them walk away into the night.
Isabelle dismisses him with a wave of her hand, 'We’ll be right back, ' Alec gives her an incredulous look, raising his eyebrow, as Isabelle gives him a lilting, girlish laugh, 'What? He passes the time.'
Simon calls from the distance, his voice somewhere between alarm and confusion, 'I can hear you guys, you know?'
The sound of Jace and Clary walking back out through the door stirs Maya awake again.
She jolts awake abruptly, vision blurry and unfocused. Maya immediately hisses as she tries to sit up, her tired, sore muscles recoiling in protest. The world is dark and fuzzy around her as Alec's voice rumbles in the distance, and it's then that Maya realizes she's lying on an old, half-eaten couch, worn springs creaking under her weight as she quickly scrambles off of it, brushing the dust off of her dress.
As she walks over to the three of them, Isabelle's hurried footsteps following close behind her, Maya's previous sense of hope dims with every meter she gets closer. Jace is holding the redhead by her arm like a vice, pointedly not making eye contact. His posture is tense, rigid, and the ominous mood is only amplified by the way Clary's face is as pale as a ghost, panting as her green eyes remain frozen with shock. Her expression seems far away, lost, and as Maya runs up next to Alec, she sees a trickle of blood running down the girl's temple, a small mark on her forehead from where the Soul Sword must have pierced her.
'What happened?' Alec questions, hesitantly eyeing Clary.
'Yeah, what'd you guys find out?' Maya pants, slightly out of breath.
The two of them remain deadly silent, exchanging a wordless glance between them. Clary looks at the ground, swallowing, her shoulders curled in on herself as if she's trying to make herself appear smaller, less threatening. There's something quite odd about how drastically her demeanor has changed; she's no longer putting up the bravado that went into the catacombs with her — and appears to have vanished there.
The four words from Jace that break the silence around them knock the wind from Maya's lungs
'Valentine is Clary’s father.'
'W-Wait a minute, ' Alec sputters, his brain, like Maya's, struggling to comprehend what's just come out of his parabatai's mouth, 'You’re telling me this girl shows up out of nowhere and she’s Valentine’s daughter? ' He scoffs, 'Did it occur to you that she might be a spy? This might be part of her plan?
'That’s enough, Alec.' Jace snaps, his golden eyes turning frigid.
'Do you think I planned for my mom to get kidnapped?!' Clary bursts out, hotly, 'Or… or for Dot to be taken? Or to have a giant sword dangle over my head and find out that my father is one of the most dangerous people in the world? Really?!'
'I don't know . . . ' The coldness of Maya's voice surprising even herself, 'Did you?'
'Oh you're one to talk, Maya, ' Clary spits out, malevolently. Her tone takes a dangerous turn, 'Or should I say . . . princess of Hell?'
All the rage that's been slowly building inside Maya comes to a head. 'Take that back, ' She hisses, her fingers tightening around the throwing knife stashed in the pocket of her jeans.
'Why should I?' Clary scoffs, as Jace grabs her arm in warning, 'You're just as untrustworthy as I am, '
'Oh, you're going to pay for that, ' Maya snarls.
She lunges at the redhead, hands outstretched, the familiar burn of magic crackling through her veins. Every cell in Maya's body wants to tear her limb from limb, the words leaving Clarissa Fray — or more fittingly, Morgenstern's — lips confirming what everyone says about her when they think she isn't listening. That she's tainted because of her blood, forever cast away, untrustworthy. Unlovable.
'Watch your fucking mouth, ' Alec glares down at Clary, managing to push Maya away just in time.
'She started it—' Clary sputters, as Alec puts a considerable amount of distance between them, dragging Maya behind him even as she struggles in his grip.
'Yeah, well we don't have time for your bickering ' Jace snaps. Clary immediately freezes, as his cold eyes meet Maya's in a warning.
'Bickering?!' Maya seethes, 'You're calling this bickering?!' Isabelle runs up to them, face drained of blood.
'Where's Simon?!' Clary immediately demands, as Maya glares daggers at her, wishing that they'd just left her at Pandemonium.
The tall Shadowhunter stammers, looking scared, 'I told him to stay in the van . . . I’ve searched everywhere'
'He’s gone?' Clary breathes, in a shocked whisper. Her emerald eyes are glassy with tears.
'I can’t find him. . . . ' Isabelle sighs, looking defeated.
'You were supposed to protect him!' Clary snaps; She runs off in the direction of the van, 'Simon!'
'These mundanes are killing me.' Jace makes a pained groan before the four of them run after her, stumbling over the litter that lays throughout the cemetery. Maya almost trips over a stray beer can, but her annoyance soon morphs into horror by the time they manage to get to the van. The front door is thrown wide open, scratch marks on the seats indicating the sign of a struggle — and the absence of a certain bespectacled musician.
Clary gasps as she sees his earphones still lying across the dashboard, a large crack marring his phone screen, 'Simon?' She whirls around, hysterically searching for his presence, 'No . . . Simon!!'
A familiar voice answers with mock concern, making hairs stand up on the back of Maya's neck, 'Is that the mundane’s name?'
Maya spins, fear bolting through her veins as she catches sight of a two figures standing on a bridge. Raphael Santiago, leader of New York's most feared vampire clan, sneers down at them, his fangs glinting sinisterly in the moonlight. His skin is pale, all traces of life vanished from the surface. Another vampire, this one female, stands beside him in a flared blue dress. Her blonde hair falls to her waist in curls, almost like a halo, but this angelic effect is immediately shattered as she holds Simon upside down by the ankle, dangling him tauntingly over the edge of the bridge.
'No!' Clary begs, her voice cracking, 'No, please, he’s not a part of this!!'
'And it’ll be my pleasure to kill you unless you return him, ' Jace growls, whipping out his seraph blade from it's holster. It shines threateningly in the moonlight, the curved blade hinting at the bloodshed to come.
Alec stops him, expression wary, 'Careful, ' He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, staring up at them with apprehension, 'We’d be violating the Accords.
'I’m afraid your sidekick’s quite right! The Night Children have broken no laws, ' Raphael calls out, his voice echoing in the empty landscape around them; His face morphs into a terrifying smirk, 'We’re negotiating. The mundane, unharmed, in exchange for the Mortal Cup.'
'Do you seriously think we would give you the Mortal Cup without even knowing where it is?!' Maya scoffs, disbelievingly, 'You're insane, Raphael '
Her insult doesn't rattle Raphael; if anything, his smirk grows wider, more smug, 'Well, you'll just have to figure it out, won't you? ' He dangles Simon lower, a shriek erupting from the boy's mouth before pulling him back up, 'Hurry up, Nephilim. The clock is ticking, '
'Clary!' Simon screams, before the three of them vanish into thin air.
'Simon!' Clary screams back; She rushes forward but Jace pulls her back, wrapping a protective arm around her waist, 'Simon! Simon! Simon!!'
No one answers back.
okay, I know that I said I'd be regular with updates, but it's the last two weeks of school before summer, and some stuff just came up. I don't think I'll be able to update this week, because I'm starting a new internship and have an exam on Friday, but definitely expect some new chapters on the holidays! Also, it's мєg 's birthday, so I would really appreciate if y'all wished her. Stay safe and don't forget to tell me what you thought in the comments!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 46: Chapter 46
Chapter Text
July 2016
THEY SAY THAT HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS, but Draco feels the exact opposite.
Home is somewhere you're supposed to be safe. To be cared for, to let your guard down under the safety of four walls. A place to lay down your roots, recharge and relax. Where memories of family picnics and milestones echo gallantly through the halls, musical laughter echoing from the living room.
Malfoy Manor is none of those things.
Home, to him, is cold and dark. A place that swallows you up into it's deadly bowels, forever trapped within those four walls. A gilded cage laden with false material comforts designed to lull you into a false sense of safety. Because Malfoy Manor isn't home. It never has been. It's more of a fancy prison, draped in velvet armchairs and sparkling chandeliers to disguise the bloodshed that stains their hardwood floors, the bones of innocents holding up the foundation. It's where the worst of Draco's memories have taken place, defiance beaten out of him and obedience drilled in.
And now, it's housing one of the most dangerous dark wizards to ever walk the earth.
Some small, naive part of him thought that there would be no consequences for his father's mistake. That the Dark Lord would see no reason to punish them as it had already been done. Lucius Malfoy is rotting his life away in Azkaban, his family and status eternally ripped from him. Without him, the three of them have fallen into the seventh circle of hell, no longer the most pristine, glittering gems of pureblood society to ever exist. Their reputation has been blackened forever — as well as their lives.
But apparently, that wasn't enough for the noseless bastard. No, not even close.
Albus Dumbledore is a threat to everything the Dark Lord has ever envisioned. Powerful, charismatic, and a fierce advocate for the rights of muggleborns, his promises hold more sway in the Wizarding World than ever before. And with the public being aware of his return, it's only a matter of time before the old codger rallies an army of his own — and burns theirs to the ground.
Albus Dumbledore must die — and Draco Malfoy has to be the one to do it.
The plan is one insurmountably beyond his abilities — fix the broken vanishing cabinet from Borgin and Burkes, and let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts to finish the job. Narcissa's protests had echoed throughout the dining room: 'He's just a boy!', 'Please, spare us!', 'How can you expect him to rip his soul apart?'. But a red light from the Dark Lord's wand had silenced the doubts in his mind, his mother's screams of agony drowning out everything else.
Once upon a time, he actually wanted this. His ten-year-old self idolized the greatness that being on the dark side would bring, the power it would grant them. Purifying magic for those who deserve it, ridding their world of the pests that were muggles. It all sounded so noble, restoring an order that had been disrupted years ago. Instead, as Draco lies on his emerald sheets, the stars glittering outside his bay window, he feels nothing but a vile, sickening sensation in his gut, lungs slowly atrophying in his ribcage.
He should be proud of himself, Draco thinks, quietly. Being personally chosen to serve the Dark Lord is an honor, a stepping stone to being one of his right-hand men. It's what his father would've wanted, the very choice that could save their entire lives from being flushed down the drain. But all Draco can think about are the consequences of his possible (who's he kidding, inevitable) failure to complete his task, his chest squeezing and muscles tightening at the threats that had effortlessly echoed from the pale man's mouth.
'You'd do best to follow my command, dear boy, ' The Dark Lord had trailed a sharp nail menacingly along his jaw, the stinging sensation struggling to keep Draco from flinching away in fear. His twisted, wax-like features had swirled into a sinister smile, sharp teeth bared in a taunt and making all signs of struggle disappear from the young Slytherin's body, 'After all, the fate of your loved ones depends on how well you perform. You wouldn't want your lover to have her heart ripped out before she can write her N.E.W.T.s, would you?'
He knows it's selfish, to think of Maya Rajesh before his own mother and sister, who have no one else to turn to. But the raging horror that had crept up in Draco's chest at the thought of losing her once again had been enough to make him swear his allegiance — and tarnish the porcelain skin of his left arm forever.
The sound of footsteps outside his door jolts him back to reality; Draco bolts upright from under his blankets, yanking down his sleeve before anyone can catch sight of his marred appendage. But his heart slows down as the familiar sound of his mother's voice emits from outside the door — and drops into his stomach when she asks him to come down for dinner.
"I'm not hungry!' Draco answers, a little too quickly. The thought of making small talk with Fenrir Greyback over raspberry trifle has done wonders to stifle his appetite.
Narcissa sighs; Draco panics as he hears the door unlock. She steps inside, ashy curls tumbling down her back, a disappointed expression etched onto her features, 'You can't keep doing this, Draco'
'Doing what?' His voice sounds indignant to his own ears, but Draco ignores it, resigning himself to picking at a stray thread hanging from his pillow.
'Avoiding!' She huffs, sitting down next to him, 'Cooped up in your room, only ever talking to the house-elves, You could at least try to maintain some semblance of composure '
A stream of anger burns through his chest, 'Appearances?' Draco scoffs, a lump forming in his throat, 'That's what you care about right now?'
Narcissa's tone becomes sharper, 'It's what's most important, ' Her voice drops to a low hiss, 'The Dark Lord is under the same roof as us, Draco. We must act accordingly, '
'I assume you mean to pretend as though nothing has changed?' Draco snaps. His hands curl themselves into fists on top of his covers, nails digging into his palms in an effort to keep his volatile emotions at bay.
The older woman sighs, 'Cheri, it's not like that —'
'Have you even checked on Diana once since the ceremony?' He quips, 'Talked to her? Asked her if she's alright with having one of the most dangerous dark wizards in a century in the guest room — '
'Shut your mouth' Narcissa hisses, her nails digging into his right arm; Draco yanks it away as fast as he can. She scoffs, suddenly looking at him with confusion, 'What's gotten into you? You never behaved like this before, '
'Oh, I don't know, mum, ' Sarcasm drips from his tone, 'Maybe the evanescence of my own mortality and the possible death of everyone I've ever loved is finally seeming real — '
'How long have you been seeing her, Draco?' The Malfoy matriarch stares back at him with cold, hard fury.
Draco's eyes widen in shock, mouth going dry. All the air seems to have vanished from his lungs, 'What? '
'Don't play dumb with me, ' Narcissa Malfoy snaps, her pale blue eyes sharpening to daggers, 'How long have you been consorting with Maya Rajesh?'
Every cell in Draco's body screams at him to run. He gulps, suddenly feeling the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, 'I don't know what you're talking about, '
'Look, I don't care about whatever — attraction — is between you two, ' She spits the word out like a curse, 'This cannot continue'
'That's not your decision to make! ' Draco snarls, his eyes burning holes into hers.
'It is when the safety of my family is at stake!, ' Narcissa hisses back, 'Cette fille est une malédiction. She is dangerous. Girls like her will skin you alive and feed your bones to the dogs. '
Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes, 'Mum, you're being paranoid, '
Her eyebrows raise, 'One bad apple can poison the whole tree, Draco. She comes from a line of manipulators — her father is an actual prince of hell, her mother a Nephilim assassin. Maya Rajesh could very well be playing you for her own benefit — '
'You're saying that as if you know anything about her, ' Draco snaps at his mother's indignant expression, 'Demon blood doesn't make someone a bad person — '
'But it sure as hell doesn't exonerate them either, does it?' Narcissa quips, eyes narrowing, 'She's not like us, Draco. Her mind works in sinister ways — '
'You don't know that — ' Draco tries, but it's useless.
Narcissa scoffs, 'I think Yaxley's broken ribs would say otherwise, ' Her expression softens, 'Look, whatever you feel for her . . . . ignore it. This is not the time to get involved with a girl, of all things —'
'Enough, ' Draco snaps at his mother — the harshness of his voice surprises even himself, 'I don't have enough energy to deal with you today, mum. So if you're not going to say anything of importance — ' He gestures to the door, 'Please leave, '
Narcissa stands up, stiffly. She takes one long, hard look at him before striding back out the door, tears glimmering in her eyes, 'I don't know why you're doing this to us — and I'm not going to try and understand. But please, Draco, for Merlin's sake, try not to yourself killed. You have so much more than this ahead of you, '
Draco groans, covering his face with his hands as he flops back onto his bed. A few drops of drizzle hit the window outside, slowly morphing into cacophonous summer rain. He sighs, opening his eyes and staring up at the ceiling in a resolute manner.
No matter what, Maya cannot find out about the mark on his arm. Even if that means he has to push her away for good.
'I still don’t understand . . . ' Clary demands, once they're back inside the Institute, 'How can Shadowhunters be better than… than what you people call mundanes?
Isabelle sighs, exasperated; Maya can hear the exhaustion in her voice, 'Because we protect humans, '
'You’re right. Humans. You protect humans. You left Simon all alone in the van. Great job, guys! ' Clary scoffs, sarcastically, 'You rock.'
'There is some truth to the idea that human beings should have a modicum of common sense, ' Alec drawls, looking bored as he picks at a stray thread on his pants.
'Alec, not now — ' His sister starts, but Jace interrupts her.
'Look, they won’t do anything to Simon, ' He reassures Clary, 'They just wanted to draw you out. They want the Cup . . . . and they think you have it, '
'But why do they think that?' Clary demands, hotly, crossing her arms over her chest, 'Why does anyone think that? What, my mom lies to me my entire life except, “Oh, by the way, there’s this magic cup, I hid on, like the planet Bongo, but don’t tell anyone”'
'Oh, I don't know, because they're not genetically gifted enough to just magically read your mind?' Maya scoffs.
The redhead rolls her eyes, 'Are you always such a ray of sunshine?'
'Being around you makes me that way' Maya states.
Clary looks like she wants to let loose a scathing retort, but Alec beats her to it, 'We have to report this to the Clave.'
'Great, ' Jace groans, his jaw tensing up in frustration.
'They have to know we’ve learned about Valentine!' Alec persists, but Clary interrupts him once again
'What, that he’s my father?' She demands, 'Great. Fine. Tell them. What good does that do Simon?'
'Clary, it’s all connected, ' Jace tries, 'The vamps want the Cup'
She frowns, 'Why? It makes new Shadowhunters.'
Alec sighs, 'Nobody wants Valentine forming an army loyal to himself.'
'Plus, it controls demons.' Isabelle adds.
'Fuck!' Maya exclaims, closing her eyes and putting her head in her hands, 'They're going to ask us to trade Simon for the cup, aren't they?'
'So, vampires will trade Simon for the Cup and Valentine will trade my mother for the Cup. Either way, I lose someone I love, ' Clary huffs; Maya sees the beginning of tears glimmering in her eyes, 'What if I just toss it up in the air and let them fight it out among themselves?'
'So, this doesn’t matter to you?' Alec demands, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
'Yes, of course, it matters!' Clary huffs; Her face takes on a more serious tone, 'Listen… when you saved my life… I put my trust in you. Now, I need you to put your trust in me. I can’t turn into what you are overnight, '
'It’s true, ' Isabelle sighs, hopeful, 'She was raised as a mundane.'
'What are you, her spokesman now?' Alec scoffs turning to his sister.
'I don’t need a spokesman, ' Clary sighs, looking resigned, 'I need a plan.'
Above all else, Maya supposes, what she needs is breakfast.
'Can any of this help me find Simon?, ' Clary questions, staring at the screens in the control room, 'Where is he, anyway? Some kind of crypt in Transylvania?'
Maya swallows a mouthful of egg-and-cheese bagel, looking at Alec in doubt, 'Wasn't that Camille's outfit?'
'These are locals, ' He sighs, their attention turning to Isabelle as a blip sounds from her screen.
'They’re at the Hotel DuMort, down in . . . . . Gansevoort Street, ' She confirms, adjusting her headset, 'Twenty-eight minutes away'
'And we came back here?' Clary scoffs, 'Why? We have to go there. Let’s go, now. Come on.'
'The five of us can’t declare war on the vamps all by ourselves, ' Isabelle interrupts.
'And we can’t react without considering our options, ' Alec states, 'Downworlders are slaves to their impulses. We’re not, '
'Alec!' Isabelle snaps, gesturing to Maya.
He shoots her an apologetic look before turning to Izzy, a teasing smirk on his face, 'Oh, that’s right. Seelies have their charms, apparently, '
Maya raises an eyebrow as Jace's eyes widen, looking at his adopted sister in shock. Isabelle just smiles, looking pleased with herself at finally being able to get something other than sarcasm out of the blond Shadowhunter.
'Seelies?' Clary questions, looking bewildered.
'Fae, basically, ' Jace explains, 'Add pixies, nixies, elves… anybody half-angel, half-demon. It’s pretty much a catch-all term.'
'Izzy can tell you all about them, ' Alec drawls, apparently in a better mood; He glances at Isabelle, a smirk forming on the corner of his mouth, 'She’s got a thing.'
Isabelle smiles, sarcastically, her eyes sharp in that way Maya only sees when she spars with her siblings, 'We’ve all got our things, don’t we?'
Alec's face turns redder than Maya ever thought possible — he immediately takes an interest in the gothic-style roof above them, avoiding eye contact with all of them.
Especially his parabatai.
'Okay, I can’t listen to this, ' Clary huffs; She grabs Isabelle's jacket, shrugging the too-long sleeves back onto her slim shoulders, 'Simon’s been kidnapped by vampires. I guess I’ll just take care of it myself, '
'Clary, you’re gonna get yourself killed!!' Jace yells after her as she walks away, furiously, heels clicking across the marble floor, 'Clary!!'
'Feel free to close the door on your way out!' Maya exclaims, rolling her eyes at the redhead's dramatic tendencies, 'Unless, of course, you want Simon to die, '
Maya hears her groan — a sound that makes no effort to hide her distaste towards the warlock, and slowly shuffle back. The sound of Clary's angry footsteps march towards Maya until the redhead is standing right in front of her.
'Then help me, ' Clary spits, fire spewing from her tone, 'While we consider other options, my best friend is suffering, ' She scoffs, 'Is that something Shadowhunters understand or am I just being a mundane?'
'So what, you run off into the sunset and just expect all of us to automatically do your bidding?' Maya snaps back, 'Do you even realize how insane you're acting—'
'Clary’s right, ' Jace interrupts, 'They made the first move, ' He looks around at all of them, a newfound steadiness to his tone, 'We’re gonna take care of this ourselves, right now, '
'Jace, this is a bad idea—' Alec starts.
'Well, do you have a better one?' Jace questions; He sighs, turning away and running a hand through his hair, 'Look, the vamps broke the Accords. They kidnapped a mundie. That’s a big no-no. The Clave will give us a lecture and then they’ll be glad we did it. Come on.'
'Maybe for you, ' Maya mutters, under her breath, earning her a dirty look from him, 'What? You all have angel blood, I don't. Do you think they'll just let me off scot-free?'
'If you're on a rescue mission, I don't see why they wouldn't, ' Isabelle retorts, squaring her shoulders, 'They can't penalize you for doing good, Maya'
'Even if we went ahead, ' Alec starts, 'I don’t see how we get out of here without having to explain where we’re going. We need weapons, and we can’t let anyone see us get them, '
Jace grins, a devious, mischievous smile that speaks of no good ahead, 'I know where to get what we need.'
This is the second time Maya's been in a graveyard tonight.
They leave Simon's car at the Institute — after all, driving around a big orange van with the words 'Rock Solid Panda' graffitied on the side isn't the most conspicuous way to rob a grave. Instead, Maya portals them right outside of St. Paul's Cathedral — right across the street from where she went to middle school and incidentally, one of five cemeteries in New York that contain emergency armories for Shadowhunters.
'Whose grave is it again?' Alec questions, furrowing his brows at the worn parchment in his hands.
'Mary Milligan' Izzy mutters, peering to the side; Alec is so tall that his already-leonine sister has to stand on her tiptoes to be able to look over his shoulder, 'Born January 10th, 1802. Died January 10th, 1878.'
'All right, Alec, let’s go, ' Jace starts forward.
'Wait, what are we looking for?' Clary asks, as the rest of them begrudgingly follow him, skirting around the decaying roses that adorn some of the tombstones around them.
'Cache of weapons, ' Izzy explains, casually, 'They're stashed here with Ms. Milligan, '
'Why are there Shadowhunter weapons in a churchyard?' The redhead questions, looking confused.
'Because all of the ancient religions recognize demons, ' Isabelle sighs, disappointment coating her tone, 'Or at least . . . they used to.'
'They forgot about the threat because we’ve been here to protect them, ' Alec rolls his eyes, his words edged with a sharp resentment towards a certain someone, 'Typical mundane failure of imagination, '
'Are you saying we did too good a job?' Isabelle scoffs, her eyes narrowing as she glares at her older brother, 'You just can’t let up, can you?'
'You know what? Alec, why don’t you go check out by the angel?' Jace interrupts, looking wary at the sight of the Lightwood siblings arguing; He turns to Clary, 'We couldn’t gear up at the Institute, but we know our ancestors left a cache around here someplace. We’ll find it.'
'I always wondered where my dad was buried, ' Clary muses, twirling a strand of a crimson hair around her fingers, 'I used to wish he was still alive, ' Her expression turns to one of disappointment, looking at the ground 'Be careful what you wish for, I guess, '
'This isn’t your fault, ' Jace tries to reassure her.
Clary's jaw stiffens as she swallows, spitting out, 'This is all my fault.'
Suddenly, Isabelle's phone chimes from her pocket. She bites the inside of her cheek as the screen lights up, looking satisfied, 'Excellent. He’s home. I’m out of here.'
'Wait, aren’t you coming with us?' Clary questions.
'Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world, but I gotta find out how to get into the vampires’ lair. ' Izzy smiles, winking at the redhead before turning on her heel and walking away.
'Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!' Jace yells after her, eyes narrowing at the self-righteous sway of her hips, 'She's not going to listen to me, is she?'
'When has Izzy ever listened to anyone?' Maya chuckles, but her brief moment of reprieve is interrupted by the familiar sound of her phone buzzing in her pocket.
She immediately pulls it out, heart pounding in hopes of receiving any updates from Magnus, but immediately loses her composure when the caller ID flashes on the screen — Amma.
'Pick it up!' Jace urges, as Maya gives him an incredulous look.
'Are you kidding me?!' She whispers, panicked, gesturing to the eerie landscape around them, 'My mother will murder me if she finds out where I am!'
'At least your mother cares enough about you to call your phone, ' Clary interrupts, looking straight at Maya. There's immense resentment in her eyes — but for once, it's not directed towards her.
'Whatever, ' Maya sighs, in a deadpan voice. She finds a quieter spot, away from the tombstones before daring to slide her thumb across the glassy surface of her phone, lifting it to her ear before Clary or Jace can catch wind of the incessant lecture that Nandini no doubt has on the tip of her tongue.
'Hello? Hello? Maya, is it you?!' Nandini's voice comes out frantic and shaky from the other end of the line, panting; Maya feels an immense twinge of guilt in her stomach from how panicked she sounds, 'Beta, what the actual hell is happening?! First, I hear you're on some sort of mission at a nightclub, now you're protecting Valentine's daughter?! Are you hurt, alone — '
'Mom, don't worry, I'm fine, ' Maya reassures her, sighing, 'You're not wrong about the other stuff, though . . . '
'Where are you right now?!' Nandini demands, furiously; Maya can feel the anger radiating off of her even from four thousand miles away.
'Saint — Saint Paul's Cathedral, ' Maya falters, anxiety crawling into her veins.
She hears Nandini's sharp intake of breath, 'Please don't tell me you're trying to rob a grave for weapons, '
'We didn't have another choice!' Maya protests, ignoring her mother's scoff from the other end of the line, 'Alec wanted to go to the Clave — '
'It doesn't matter what Alec wants!!' Nandini snaps, 'I care about my daughter's safety more than the whims of some college-aged Nephilim,' Her tone turns serious, 'This is exactly why I didn't want to leave you alone in New York — it was going to be all too easy for the Clave to take advantage of you once I left, '
'Mom . . . ' Maya wonders if she should really be poking an already-angry Nandini with a stick, 'This isn't a Clave mission — '
'What?!' Her mother's shriek is so loud that Maya winces from the other end of the line, her ears ringing from the impact, 'Do you even realize the situation you've put yourself in?!'
'I had to go!' Maya shouts back, just as angry, 'Do you think I was just going to let Magnus take the blame for the blood deals that were going on inside Pandemonium? Or that the one time my friends desperately needed my help, I would desert them?'
'Maya, you don't understand, ' Nandini tries to reason with her from the other end of the line, 'Getting involved in Shadowhunter politics is a death sentence for people like us. You need to get out of this while you can, '
'It's too late, ' Maya breathes out, only just realizing what she's gotten herself into, 'Hodge already knows I was on the mission — he knows I let Clary escape from the nightclub, and it's only a matter of time before the Clave finds out. I can't leave now, '
There's a silence from the other end of the line, a horrible, final silence that makes Maya's stomach churn and her insides writhe within her body. Maya knows, she knows very well how badly she's fucked up. All her life, Nandini's wanted to keep her out of the Shadow world, let her find her own path rather than be forced into a line of work that could lead to her demise if things go south.
But when the peaceful reality they've been living in for so long is suddenly falling apart, it feels wrong to just stand by and let it happen.
'Promise me you won't do anything stupid, ' Nandini states, quietly. Her tone takes on a pained tone, 'I've already lost too much to this side of the world — I can't lose you too, '
'Jace, I think I found it!' Clary calls from the distance, 'Mary Milligan!'
Maya sighs, steeling herself for the long night ahead. She swallows, making a vow that will undoubtedly stab her in the back when the time comes, 'I promise, mom'
An hour later, Isabelle meets them outside the hotel, decked out in a red zip-up dress that molds into her in all the right ways. Her hair is once more mussed around her shoulders, and she wears a satisfied smirk that makes Maya question how innocent her methods were to get inside.
'Where are we, exactly?' Alec questions, looking around at the dark room around them. It's a maze of mesh staircases bolted to the wall, circling higher and higher to an end Maya can't see.
'It’s an old meatpacker’s service entrance, ' Isabelle explains, 'If we go back there, we come up into the basement of the Hotel Dumort, '
'That's certainly convenient . . . ' Maya mutters, a little repulsed as they start to climb; She eyes the cobwebs that hang between the metal squares.
'I know, right?' Isabelle sighs, twirling her stele between her fingertips, 'We distract the vamps — Clary and Jace have time to find Simon.'
'Okay' Alec's voice is thin, resolute as he walks ahead of them.
'Okay?' Isabelle scoffs; she manages to catch up to him even in five-inch heels, 'It was hard work interrogating Meliorn to get this intel.'
He turns back to her, sarcasm dripping from his smile,' Great job, Izzy. You have faerie dust on your dress, ' Alec scowls, rolling his eyes, 'And I hate being the distraction.'
Maya runs behind them, struggling to keep up with her shorter legs, as Isabelle flips her glossy curls over one shoulder, 'Well, I don’t. You know, you’d be a lot happier if you weren’t so freaking repressed, ' Alec climbs into the next room, ignoring her, ' Alec? Hello?'
Maya's wheezing by the time she manages to climb a few flights of stairs, catching up to Isabelle as she tries to get her big brother's attention, 'You’re really not gonna talk to me, are you?'
Alec rolls his eyes, voice stiffening, 'That’s because you have no idea what you’re talking about.'
'But I do, ' Isabelle presses, her tone softening, 'You’re hiding from yourself, not me. You have feelings, whether you like them or not, Alec, '
'Izzy, I highly doubt this is the time or place to have that argument, ' Maya argues, trying to diffuse the tension between them. They come up to a ladder, Alec climbing up and away from his sister as fast as he can.
'I don’t know, ' Isabelle shrugs, placing her heel on one of the rungs, 'Looks pretty smooth so far.'
Maya sighs, following her up the rest of the way. This room is filled with switchboards and wires, looking to be a water closet of some sort. She ducks beneath a stray pipe as the three of them sneak through, trying to keep their footsteps as light as possible.
They walk up to another metal door in a matter of seconds. Isabelle's eyes light up in recognition, 'This must be the way in!'
Maya's heart pounds as she turns the handle, prying it open as inconspicuously as she can. She doesn't know what to expect. A few body bags, the Bible, maybe a bottle of holy water?—
'Watch out!!' Isabelle shrieks.
Maya looks up, her heart dropping into her stomach. Five vampires are waiting directly ahead of them, their teeth bared and hissing. Alec yanks her out of the way, slamming his body against the door just in time, as the creatures lunge for the three of them. The door rattles behind them, angry yells and snarls echoing through the room as Maya and Izzy struggle to keep them out.
'Well, not that smooth, ' Izzy corrects herself, sighing. She checks her watch, 'Any day now . . . . '
'Yeah, well, if you two hold the door still, it might be a lot easier, ' Alec abruptly turns around, pulling out his stele. He draws a lock rune on the metal, but it simply fades away, 'It’s not taking it.'
Izzy sighs, lifting herself off of the door. She grabs Alec's blade before he can protest, yanking it from his holster and sliding through an overhead pipe. The sturdy metal falls into her hands and she quickly shoves it through the handle, creating a temporary barricade.
'Whoever said, “The pen is mightier than the sword”, was an idiot.' Izzy purrs, smiling at her handiwork. The three of them step back; Maya keeps her knives at the ready as Alec pulls an arrow from his quiver, hooking it onto the string of the bow.
'When you’re right, you’re right.' He states, posture tense, ready for combat. The fists pounding against the door grow louder, snarls more violent, and Maya has a feeling that their momentary solution won't hold for much longer.
'How long do we have to distract them for again?' Maya huffs, breathlessly.
The words roll of Isabelle's tongue all too casually, 'Ten more minutes.'
'Ten minutes? Are you kidding?' Alec exclaims, incredulously, 'We’re liquid lunch in five.'
'So let's distract them' Isabelle states.
Alec sighs, resolutely agreeing with his sister, 'So let’s distract them, '
'Get ready, you two . . . ' Isabelle breathes, the door creaking dangerously, no longer able to hold back the Night Children ahead of them.
The door bursts open, all hell breaking loose as the vampires' flood in. Maya's knife hits one of the creatures directly in the chest, emitting an unearthly howl before vaporizing into dust. Alec manages to catch two in the shoulder with his arrows, vanishing them into thin air. Izzy yanks the last one off of it's feet with her whip, yanking it to her feet before slamming Alec's blade into it's abdomen. It screams, writhing in agony before vaporizing away like the rest of it's companions.
Maya pants, feeling exhilarated as Alec readjusts his clothes, looking satisfied with himself, 'Well, that was fun . . . '
'It's about to get even more exciting, ' Isabelle steps ahead of them, her heels clicking on the linoleum floor. She smiles, looking out into the dark hall before grinning back at them, 'We're in, '
'Stop it!' Raphael's voice booms through the ornate ballroom as the three of them watch from behind a curtain. He grabs Simon, holding him by the neck as the mundane gasps for air, 'Don’t move, ' He hisses, pressing a silver blade to his neck, 'I know you wanna find out how this story ends, '
'We have to do something!' Isabelle hisses. Alec shushes her, keeping an arrow at the ready as a familiar voice sends chills down Maya's spine.
Camille Belcourt's heels click against the floor as she leisurely walks in. Her dark hair falls down her back in dark, unbothered curls as she grins, red lips stretching wickedly to show off her sharp fangs, 'I can take it from here, Raphael,'
'You don't have to, ' Raphael replies, smoothly, pressing the blade further into Simon's neck as the mundane squirms, struggling to throw him off.
'No, honestly. I’ve had it with this thing, ' Her impossibly pretty face morphs into a scowl, acid dripping from her tone, 'Give it to me. I’ll finish it off, '
'Camille, we have a bigger problem, ' Raphael tries to reason with her, 'The Shadowhunters are almost here — you're too valuable to be caught, ' He glowers at a terrified Simon with distaste, 'Don’t worry, I’ll kill it.'
'That's a little excessive, yeah?' Simon wheezes, choking in fear as Raphael tightens his grip.
'Shut up!, ' The vampire snarls, before turning back to Camille, 'Take the back passage out through the tunnels. Go!'
Camille sighs in distaste, rolling her eyes at him but walking out anyway. Her eyes flit to their hiding place and for a moment, Maya swears that their eyes lock. But she makes no notice of it, disappearing as quickly as she walked in.
'Now you listen and do exactly as I say… nothing more, ' Raphael hisses to Simon, his shoes scrambling for purchase on the slippery floors; The vampire's head snaps up, eyes becoming alert as footsteps echo towards the entrance, 'They’re coming.'
Clary and Jace burst in at the same time Alec yanks the curtain away from the three of them, exposing their hiding place. The five of them band together, Clary's eyes widening as she realizes her best friend is being held hostage.
'Simon!' Clary screams, rushing towards Raphael, seraph blade in hand.
'Clary!' Jace yanks her back before she can do anything serious, 'That’s not gonna do him any good.'
'Listen to him, Clary Fairchild!, ' Raphael snarls, his eyes flitting to her weapon, 'Put it away. I’ve had more than enough of your friend for one day. I’d love to cut his throat. Don’t give me a reason, ' His eyes grow furious as Clary's fingers wrap tighter around her blade, 'Put it away!!'
Maya cautiously straps her knives back down to her thighs as Isabelle starts to curl her whip back around her wrist. Alec lowers his bow, Jace's grip tightening on Clary as she struggles in his hold.
'There . . ., ' Raphael smiles, satisfied, 'That wasn't so hard, was it?'
Clary ignores him, expression pleading as she remains fixed on the mundane, 'Simon, are you all right?'
'I wouldn’t say all right—' Simon begins.
'Stop talking!' Raphael snarls; He stands up straighter, gesturing towards the entrance, 'Now… if you would all just follow me, '
Maya reluctantly runs after him, her boots scuffing up the velvet carpet beneath them as Raphael leads them through the maze of a building. It feels like a decade has passed before he shoves the four of them up a staircase, right before the door that leads to the roof.
'Look, we’re not gonna hurt you, ' Clary tries, her hands shaking as she stretches them out in surrender, 'We just want Simon.'
Raphael just smirks, still holding the blade to Simon's throat, 'I’m glad you do, because we couldn't care less about him, ' His tone turns deadly, 'We wanted you.'
'Stop!' Jace snaps, pulling Clary back before she can hurt him.
Raphael rolls his eyes, annoyed, 'I said “wanted”. Not my idea, ' He gestures roughly towards the door, 'Now, get out! Go!'
'Not without Simon, ' Clary insists, her chest heaving up and down in panic.
Raphael's tone turns murderous as he presses the tip of the knife into Simon's neck, the mundane whimpering in pain, 'Open that door right now . . . . or I’ll kill him right here, '
'Listen to him!' Jace snaps.
She protests, 'But Simon will die if—'
Alec throws the door open; Maya immediately covers her eyes as the gleaming sunlight streams into the room. Raphael immediately hides behind a cluster of pipes, dragging Simon with him.
'Clary, go!' The mundane yells, as Jace drags Maya out, her boots catching on the concrete.
'Take him, too!' Raphael snaps, pushing Simon towards the exit.
The mundane immediately catches his glasses, straightening them before gazing at Raphael with shock, 'I-I don’t know how to thank you, '
Raphael's face swirls into something ugly, 'Don’t thank me. You mean nothing, ' His expression grows grave, almost scared, 'This is about Valentine and the chaos he can bring, '
'Come on!' Jace pulls Simon out, the mundane stumbling after him as all of them walk out onto the sunlit roof.
'Maya Rajesh!' Raphael's voice rings in a warning before she can slam the door shut; His expression is urgent, the look in his eyes almost maniacal, 'Be careful out there. We both know the Circle members won't spare your kind if you're ever unlucky enough to come across them,'
Confusion swirls in Maya's brain. They've never even spoken before — why does he care?
'I'll — I'll keep that in mind, ' She stutters out, before closing the door.
Maya turns around, eyes squinting as the sun finally starts to rise around them. Clary's arms immediately wrap around Simon, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Jace watches the two of them warily, a hint of jealousy in his eyes as his face remains impassive.
Although they may have just rescued a hostage, Maya supposes, Raphael's words still ringing in her ears, their troubles are far from over.
In fact, they're just beginning.
so uh . . . hey. sorry if there are any spelling errors, it's 1am right now and i just finished this. more about maya and camille's past will be revealed in the next chapter! i would've finished this sooner, but school and my internship got in the way. anygays, can't write this weekend because I'll be out of town, so expect an update sometime late next week!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 47: Chapter 47
Chapter Text
July 2016
THEIR NEXT LEAD COMES SURPRISINGLY QUICKLY (in the form of one of Clary's visions) — Magnus is the one who took Clary's memories.
'He’s over 300 years old, ' Hodge explains, the next morning — a portrait of Magnus in a 18th-century style ruffled collar flickers across the control room screen — 'And, as you can see . .. . ' — a series of photos blip across the screen, showing the warlock surrounded by beautiful people and exotic locales — 'He’s not exactly shied away from the pleasures of every century. His tastes are both exquisite… ' — Maya snorts as she sees a picture of him sitting on a gilded throne in Ancient Egypt, looking very pleased with himself as a pharaoh's headdress rests on his head — 'and quite excessive.'
'He looks like the Downworld’s David Guetta . . . ' Clary mutters.
'Guetta’s a vampire, ' Isabelle quips, chuckling at the shocked expression on her face, 'Ever seen him in the daylight?
'Can you two focus?' Alec sighs, rolling his eyes in annoyance, 'This is not a joke.'
'Someone needs to get slayed, ' His sister mutters under her breath, scowling.
'Alec’s right, ' Hodge states — he presses the remote once, turning off the screen, 'Now, Magnus is one of the most powerful warlocks I’ve ever known. He has a deep mistrust of Shadowhunters — ' Hodge's eyes flit to Maya for a split second, ' — except Nandini, of course,'
'Who's Nandini?' Clary questions, looking at Maya with confusion.
'My mom, ' Maya replies, curtly. She wants to give the redhead as little information about her life as possible — but the bewildered look on Clary's face forces her to explain further, 'Magnus is my godfather — he took my mom under his wing after we came here from England, '
She turns back to Hodge, 'Then why did he help my mom remove my memories? Isn’t she a Shadowhunter?'
'Yes, one of the best, ' Hodge's lips turn up in a wistful smile before his tone becomes resolute, 'But 'help' might not be the most accurate word. Now, did Magnus provide a service for Jocelyn? Perhaps. But more than likely, your mother paid Magnus handsomely for his magic, '
'Warlocks are expensive for good reason, ' Maya rolls her eyes. Her stomach contracts in fear, 'But Valentine's been going after all the warlocks — I haven't been able to reach Magnus for days. How're we even going to talk to him?'
'We don’t, ' Jace states, suddenly, his eyes lighting up with an idea, 'Magnus finds us.'
'That's bullshit' Maya snaps, 'There are already so many people after her - ' — Her eyes flit to Clary — 'We can't risk accidentally luring Circle Members there '
'Which is why we're going to set up a meeting, ' Jace interjects, flashing her a pointed look, 'Somewhere protected . . . '
'I may know a place, ' Isabelle starts, suddenly. She sets her expensive leather bag down on the table, rummaging through until she pulls out an envelope edged with gold leaf, tossing it to Maya, who immediately rips it open, 'There's a VIP Downworld event happening in SoHo tonight, '
Jace peers over Maya's shoulder, a slow grin spreading across his face, 'A Downworld rave. Nice, Izzy.'
'Where'd you even get that?' Alec questions, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at his sister.
'A . . . friend, ' Izzy changes the subject a little too quickly, her fingers playing with the strap of her bag, 'From what I hear, Magnus likes to party.'
'He’ll never go for it, ' Alec scoffs, 'Not with Valentine trying to kill him.'
'Of course he will! ' Jace argues, 'He’ll blend in. Hide in plain sight, '
'It's a stretch . . . ' Maya sighs, 'But knowing Magnus, I doubt he'll stay in hiding just to miss the biggest party of the year . . . '
There's a sick feeling in her stomach, acid burning Maya's insides until all her organs are reduced to dust. She knows this is dangerous. Luring Magnus out of hiding, risking his life just to give Valentine's daughter her memories back. The last thing Maya wants is for another one of the people she cares about to be pulled into this trainwreck of a situation.
But unfortunately, they have no other options.
'Come with me.' Hodge leads them to the mostly-empty training floor. He kneels to the ground, runing a worn, brown tile. The ceramic slides away, as Hodge reaches in and pulls out an ornate ruby necklace, one that sparks a familiar hint of recognition in Maya's chest.
'Is that real?' Isabelle questions, playing with a stray curl that's fallen out of her bun.
'A four-karat, unheated Burmese ruby,' Hodge breathes out, 'And this necklace has special meaning to Magnus Bane, as it was a gift from him to his then-lover, Camille Belcourt.'
'Camille and Magnus were lovers?' Clary questions, bewildered.
'Unfortunately, ' Maya mutters, resentment bubbling up inside her at the reminder of the gorgeous, dark-haired vampire. The same vampire whom Magnus threw out of his house after he found out how she'd been treating his niece.
'Magnus bought it in 1857 for the price of his London townhouse,' Hodge sighs, 'Now, the jewel is enchanted by a spell that alerts the wearer to the presence of demons.'
Isabelle takes the jewel in her hands, admiring it with a longing precision, 'It's so beautiful'
'Magnus has longed to reunite with this necklace. Offer it to him, ' Hodge smiles, his dimples accentuated by the sharp curves of his cheekbones, 'He might just take the bait.'
'I’ll send Magnus a fire message to arrange the meeting, ' Jace nods.
'We have to get to Magnus before Valentine does.' Maya breathes out, anxiety pulling at her throat.
She doesn't want to think about what'll happen if they don't.
'Where'd you even get that dress?'
'Huh?' Maya pauses, in the middle of meticulously drawing her on her eyeliner; Clary changes behind a divider, Isabelle's room a wreck as the three of them get ready for the party 'Oh . . . . it was a fourteenth birthday present from Diana'
'Well, she certainly has taste, ' Isabelle whistles, lowly, 'Even I'm checking you out, '
'You think so?' Maya questions, eyeing herself in the mirror — the white cotton flares out from her waist, ending somewhere around mid-thigh, sheer lace panels just below the delicate bodice, 'I feel like it's a little too angelic-looking for a rave, of all things '
'The color's really pretty on you, ' Izzy assures, a pleased gasp leaving her lips as Maya reaches for the dark red lipstick lying on her dresser, 'Who are you and what have you done with Maya Rajesh?!'
'What're you talking about?' Maya smirks as she traces the brush on her lips, spreading the pigment, 'I just want to blend in with everyone else, '
'Malfoy would drop dead if he was here, ' Isabelle sighs, as she slides on a pair of glittering danglers that match the silver of her minidress.
Maya rolls her eyes, her cheeks reddening at the thought of Draco's smirk, his eyes tracing the curves of her body as his lips meet hers, hands undoubtedly tracing the curve of her waist—
'I don’t know, Isabelle, ' Clary walks out, uncertainly from behind the screen; Her willowy frame is clothed in a black leather number that makes her green eyes pop and crimson hair stand out, 'I think I’m more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl, '
Perfect timing. Maya manages to stop her less-than-holy train of thought before it can dip further into hell — although the sight of Clary's willowy frame wrapped in that dress is bound to elicit an interesting reaction from Jace.
'You’re so lucky to have such a flat chest, ' Isabelle sighs, looking at her longingly, 'I can never wear that without a bra, '
'Really?' Clary questions, eyeing her with suspicion; She seems unable to deduce whether the Shadowhunter's words are a compliment or an insult.
'Really, ' Isabelle confirms, 'Hold on — I'll go get us some clutches, '
Maya sighs in distaste as her friend walks away, leaving her and Clary alone in awkward silence. She busies herself by undoing her hair from it's tight braid, falling in soft waves over her shoulders as she runs a brush through it. The redhead completely avoids eye contact, slipping on a pair of strappy black pumps as Maya finds a pair of silver, high-heeled sandals.
'I'm sorry for what I said to you the other day, ' Clary clears her throat, finally daring to look up at Maya; the latter turns around in surprise, 'It was super insensitive and out of line, '
'Oh, really?' Maya's sarcasm sneaks through as she bends down, tying the straps of the heels to her ankles. Her mind reels in confusion, not knowing how to reach to the other girl's confession, 'Why's that?'
'Well . . . Jace told me about some of the things you've been through, ' — Maya freezes in place, heart catching in her throat — 'And I realized how shitty I was being. So . . . . I want to apologize. You didn't deserve that, '
'He did, did he?' Maya mutters, her tone hardening; she clips on a pair of butterfly studs, trying to ignore the embarrassment flooding her veins, 'Well . . . I certainly don't care for your pity ' — Clary emits a frustrated groan — 'But I appreciate the gesture, Fairchild, '
'Have you ever thought about being a little less abrasive?' The redhead questions, sarcasm dripping from your tone, 'It would do wonders for your charm, '
'I don't need to be charming to get people to like me, ' Maya sighs, turning around; She bites her lip, giving Clary a quick once-over, 'You, on the other hand, certainly do look the part, '
'Did you just compliment me?' Clary sputters, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
'Don't flatter yourself' Maya rolls her eyes.
'Are you sure this is a good idea?' Clary questions, as Jace waits with them in line outside the party, 'Last time we were here, this place was crawling with vampires.'
Maya raises an eyebrow at him, but Jace just shakes her off, 'Relax, all Downworlders hang out here. We just came on vampire night, '
'Right . . . . ' Clary pauses, 'And when is all this gonna sound normal to me?'
Jace chuckles, 'I don’t know, '
Alec walks up to them, panting, his sister strolling right behind him. He looks different tonight, black curls left loose and messy instead of brushed back, and Izzy's clearly forced him to undo the first few buttons of his white shirt, standing out greatly against his tanned skin, 'Checked the perimeter — we're clear for now?'
The ruby amulet glints on Izzy's throat as she turns to Clary, 'Do you think red’s my color?'
'Iz, with a body like yours, everything’s your color, ' Clary sighs, longingly.
'Good point, ' Isabelle wears a self-satisfied smirk, sighing as she touches the delicate jewelry hanging on her sternum, 'Damn, I make this necklace look so good, '
'Will you take it off?, ' Alec rolls his eyes, 'I’m certain Magnus Bane doesn’t want drool on his ruby when we make the exchange, '
'You know, I wouldn’t be so sure, ' Isabelle adds, innocently, 'Most men like it when I admire their jewels.'
'That's my uncle you're talking about,' Maya grimaces, disgust filling her insides at the mental image she's managed to conjure.
'Can you just give it to Jace?' Alec groans, frustrated.
'You're such a buzzkill, ' Izzy scowls as she unclasps the necklace, handing it to her brother nevertheless.
It doesn't take long for them to get inside — through Isabelle's connections, they manage to skip the line. The inside is otherworldly; holographic confetti rains down on the dancing inhabitants, bass music shaking the walls. Maya recognizes some of the people there — werewolf Maia Roberts sips a neon-blue martini at the bar, her box braids laced with silver thread and warlock Catarina Loss shoots her a friendly smile, the batwing sleeves of her blue dress shimmering with sequins.
'There he is!' Maya's heart floods with relief as Jace spots Magnus lounging on an armchair, waving the four of them to him. He seems relatively unharmed, looking fabulous as ever in one of his signature Italian suits, hair streaked with purple as he swirls a glass of whiskey in his hand. Magnus's face changes as he catches sight of her, immediately pulling Maya into a tight hug.
'You're alive . . . ' He breathes out, in relief, 'I only just saw your calls — my phone was dead. Are you - ' — He immediately pulls her back, eyes worriedly scanning over her body, ' — You're not injured, are you?'
'Magnus, I'm fine, ' Maya reassures, even as he gives her a skeptical look, 'See! Not even a scratch, '
The warlock sighs, apparently not convinced, but his attention is momentarily piqued by their crimson-haired guest, who looks as though she can't decide between throttling him and reasoning with him.
'Clary Fairchild. . . . ' Magnus breathes out, half-shocked, half-awed, 'You’ve grown into a beautiful young woman.'
'Magnus Bane, ' She scowls at him, 'So you’re the one who stole my memories.'
'At your mother’s request. She knew the risk, ' Magnus's lip curls in distaste, a familiar glint in his eye as he demands, 'Show me the jewelry, Shadowhunter.'
Jace sighs, reluctantly handing the necklace over to him. Magnus's eyes light up as he examines it carefully, reading the inscription on the back, 'Amor verus numquam moritur —True love cannot die, ' He sighs, longingly looking off into the distance, 'Oh, how I’ve missed this jewel.'
'Now, it’s your turn to pay up, ' Clary snaps, sharply. Maya glares daggers at her.
'I wish I could retrieve your memories, ' Magnus sighs, all too smoothly, 'but I no longer have them.'
'What?!' Shock fills the redhead's features, 'Where are they?'
'I fed them to a memory demon for safekeeping.'
Jace sighs, putting a frustrated hand over his face, 'And why the hell would you do that?'
'To protect Clary and the Cup, ' Magnus explains, 'If Valentine ever captured me, he could torture Clary’s memories out of me. Just like he tortured Dot.'
'Tortured?' Clary yelps, looking around at Jace, 'Wait, is Dot okay?'
'You don’t know?' Magnus's forehead crinkles in confusion; He sighs, sadly, 'Dot is dead.'
Clary goes extremely pale, 'What? How do you know?
'I can’t feel her magic anymore. Valentine killed her because she would not betray your mother.'
Her fists clench, hands shaking as Jace gives her a worried look, 'Oh, my God.'
'Come with me, Clary, ' He outstretches a ringed hand, 'My lair can offer you protection no Shadowhunter ever could.'
Clary recoils almost immediately, 'I’m not going anywhere with you.
'Don’t be a fool, ' Magnus's tone hardens, 'Your mother would want you to live.'
'Then help me get my memories back from whatever demon you gave them to! ' Clary snaps, her patience clearly wearing thin.
'Valentine is hunting you, too, ' He warns, gripping Maya's wrist tightly, 'And every moment we’re outside my lair’s protection is a moment Valentine gets closer to finding us.' — he turns to Maya, his voice low — 'You're coming with me, '
'What?!' Maya protests, 'Magnus, I can't—'
'You are, ' The warlock corrects, sternly, 'I don't trust these . . . people ' — He gives Jace a wary glance — ' With your safety. This is not the time to be taking risks, Maya'.
Magnus's fingertips crackle as he suddenly opens a portal, the heavy hum of his magic present in the air, offering a hand to Clary one last time, 'Come with me, sweetheart, '
Clary hesitates, Jace shaking his head in warning as his arm wraps tighter around her waist.
The warlock raises his eyebrows in a warning, 'I won't offer again'
'No, ' She seems more sure of herself, squaring her shoulders as her emerald eyes flash in a warning, 'No, I won’t hide from my problems and neither should you.' Clary finishes with a pointed look at Maya, who tries to pull away, but her godfather's grip is as good as iron.
'Look out!!' Catarina's voice screams.
Magnus whips back so fast he almost drags both of them to the floor. An arrow hits the chest of a man behind them, sending him straight to the ground — Maya gasps as the circle rune is revealed on his neck. When she looks back, Alec is lowering his bow, face flushing as he meets eyes with Magnus.
The warlock seems mystified, 'Who are you?' He mutters, lowly. Alec immediately looks away, nervously rubbing the back of his neck in a way that Maya's only noticed him do when he's around Jace.
'Magnus, wait!' Clary calls out, as he turns around, 'You’re my only hope.'
'Valentine found us, ' Magnus sighs, resolutely, 'I warned your mother this might happen.'
He pulls Maya into the portal with him before she has a chance to protest.
sooo . . . . . hi? i finished this a lot earlier than i expected, but it's 1am rn and i'm tired as fuck. anygays, i'm so excited to finally introduce malec, and hope you guys love my take on them as well! hope you loved the chapter, and hopefully more is coming soon!
- xoxo, disha
Chapter 48: Chapter 48
Chapter Text
July 2016
THE STREETS OF RIO DE JANEIRO ARE bringing back memories that Nandini would rather forget.
There was a time where she didn't feel as expendable — when going on a mission meant saving lives instead of being tucked out of sight as the Clave ruins everything about the reality you've painstakingly built. When she could smile in public without being called soft, when she actually looked forward to slicing open the throat of another demon with her seraph. When she didn't have to worry about the red wine slipping down her throat being laced with venom. When a sick feeling in her stomach meant that she just had food poisoning instead of her moral compass being obliterated.
That phase was decades ago.
Even after twenty years, the bar still remains unchanged. There's Christmas lights on the wall, a '60s Camaro in the corner, the same wicker chair and magazines laden in an alcove. The walls are a faded sunset orange, covered with Beatles posters, an electric guitar collecting dust on the shelf.
She remembers that night vividly — they'd snuck away here for a long weekend the summer after Year 12, as the smell of coconut tanning lotion stuck to their skin. Running through the rain to find solace in this very bar, Maryse's squeal echoing through the open-air room as a passing car drenched her sundress. Nandini'd still had her glasses back then, furiously wiping at them with an already-sodden shirt as Maryse wooed the bartender into not checking their IDs. They'd ordered hot mulled wine to combat the cold, curling up on one of the loveseats as the taste of cinnamon and pineapple swirled on her tongue.
Nandini doesn't remember when exactly their relationship changed — or rather when she changed. She's always liked both sides of the spectrum, having feelings for attractive individuals even if they were the same sex. It's not like she's told anyone — her parents don't even let her look at the opposite sex, much less accept that their daughter is bisexual.
But somewhere along the line, things between them took on a different turn. She can't exactly recall when she started to feel this way — maybe it was the time she woke up with Maryse wrapped around her after a sleepover, that instance when they had to pretend to be together to ward off a creepy guy during Jia Penhallow's birthday party or that one time where they had to share a kiss during a game of spin the bottle. All that Nandini can make sense of is that their previously clear-cut relationship is now in murky water — edging the forbidden line between platonic and romantic.
And she's not even sure if she wants to fall over.
On the surface, Maryse Trueblood is smoke and mirrors — tongue as sharp as her blade slicing through the heart of a demon. She's intelligent, calculating, confident and charming in a deadly way that makes Nandini's insides flutter — in fear or awe, she can't tell. With her striking amber eyes and silky straight coal-black hair, it's no surprise that she's caught the eye of many boys at the Academy. She's the perfect Shadowhunter daughter, poised, pretty and poisonous enough to have a twenty-page kill count.
But that night, she was someone different.
Maryse had been vulnerable, less sure of herself once the alcohol hit them both. It was as if time had stopped, decided to slow in it’s everlasting loop instead of running along at a pace the Shadowhunter could never seem to match. Words Nandini had never expected to hear had poured from her lips — uncertainty about her future, her life, what she was expected to become. There was a certain breakable quality to her voice, like a crystal glass teetering on the precipice of a shelf. And yet, she'd never seemed stronger when their eyes had met, uttering something that still sends shivers down Nandini's spine until today.
"Despite all that's been happening lately, no one's been there for me. Asked me if I'm okay . . . whether I've eaten . . . slept. It feels like everyone's using me in a way . . . asking more than I can offer. Except you. You're everything to me, Nandini. I hope you know that. "
The taste of Maryse's sangria-soaked lips against hers is burned into her memory forever, lingering feelings still persistent during the rare occasions when they run into each other now. After that night, circumstances had pulled them apart — the next morning, Maryse had left her alone in their hotel room, suddenly summoned back to Idris for an emergency mission. She'd finished out their trip alone, walking around Brazil by herself — and trying to ignore the pangs of longing in her chest at the memories of the Trueblood's arms wrapped around her, fingers in her hair lulling her to sleep.
They never acknowledged it after Nandini returned back to school, and lost contact until five years later — when the love of her life was killed in a car accident and she was finally forced to show her face in New York. Even then, they had some distance between them, Magnus (who avoided Shadowhunters at all costs) being the perfect excuse not to cross paths with her. But when four-year-old Maya became friends with none other than Isabelle Lightwood, Nandini was forced to interact with Maryse again.
At best, their relationship is friendly — at worst, it's somber and tense. Maryse Lightwood is more guarded than ever before, never sharing many details about her personal life except what her three kids with Robert manage to get up to. They're never going to be as close as they used to — both of them have accepted that, with their current circumstances. But Nandini can't help but feel like something might still be there.
It's the forbidden glint in Maryse's aegean eyes every time she meets them, the way Nandini can't help but linger for a few moments on the rare occasions whenever one of them manages a hug, the quick glances whenever no one's looking. These small gestures hurt the most. A reminder that even though her life may be perfect on the surface, Nandini still doesn't have what she's burned for so long — the passionate, intelligent Maryse Lightwood. And she never will.
Lost love may be one of life's greatest sorrows — but one that never had the chance to happen stings like a knife wound even after a decade.
'You waiting for anyone?' The bartender, Antônio, quips as he dries a crystal glass, placing it on a shelf, 'It's awfully late at night for a lady like yourself to be out alone.'
If only you knew.
Nandini sighs, downing the rest of her Pinot Grigio in one go, the bubbly aftertaste lingering on her tongue, 'I was just about to head out, actually, ' She rummages in her purse for her wallet, pulling out a stack of real and handing him the money, 'That should cover everything, including your tip, '
'Take care!' He calls after her, as she walks out into the open night. Nandini shoots him a quick smile over her shoulder, the breeze ruffling a few strands of coffee hair from her tight bun.
As her heels click against the concrete, headed back to her apartment to review the day's information, Nandini can't help but feel like her heart is dropping into her stomach.
Whatever Maya's future holds, she's sure that more of her past is going to be brought up. And this time, Nandini isn't sure if she wants to answer her daughter's questions.
The first thing Magnus reacts to is the news of his ex being back in town.
He chokes on his tea, wiping his mouth quickly with a handkerchief, 'Camille's here?'
'I saw her at the Hotel DuMort when we went to get Simon,' Maya twirls the last of her pasta on her fork, though she doesn't have much appetite left.
Magnus's face pales, 'This is worse than I thought, '
'I think you're just being paranoid, ' Maya reasons with him, tying her dark hair back into a messy ponytail, 'It's been decades since you last saw her . . . . she might have cooled off by now, '
'Camille doesn't cool off, ' The warlock rolls his eyes, 'She simmers for years. That woman holds more grudges than I have eyeliner pens, '
Maya's mind trails off to eleven-odd years ago, back when Magnus and that she-devil of a vampire were still together. Their relationship was toxic, tense, bringing out the worst in each other without even having to try. She would dread being dropped off at Magnus's after school, having to listen to the two of them constantly arguing no matter how far away she was. Camille despised the sight of her, eyes narrowed whenever her then-boyfriend would show her affection, as if she was stealing away his precious time. Maya didn't think much of it at the time — she didn't know much either. But the look on Camille's face unsettles her now, on the rare occasions her mind wanders to the past. Vicious, taunting, like a predator waiting to strike.
And strike she did. Maya doesn't remember what they were arguing about — then, she probably didn't need to. Everything seemed to set her off that day — a blown fuse in the bathroom, a cold cup of coffee in the microwave. All she can recall is the blinding pain of Camille's ringed hand striking her across the face before she could get out another whiny sentence. Her five-year-old self was utterly shocked that someone would hit her as a form of discipline — Nandini had never used corporal punishment, and certainly didn't intend to. She'd immediately ran off to Magnus's room, eyes wet and cheek bruised, curling up in there until the warlock finally came home.
It wasn't the slap itself that hurt — though Camille certainly had no qualms about the force she used. It was the realization that, despite what her mother and Magnus tried to tell her, that not every adult around Maya had her best interests at heart. She'd once looked up to Camille, wanted to be as confident and self-assured like the sultry vampire, with her flowing dresses and high-heeled shoes. But it had taken Magnus quite literally throwing Camille Belcourt out of the house (once he saw the bruise on Maya's cheek) for her to realize that the woman was nothing but an entitled, narcissistic control freak.
The same control freak that's reappeared at the Hotel DuMort.
'I'm sure she wants nothing to do with you, ' Maya says, softly, 'She looked pretty cozy with Raphael, to be honest. '
'Did she see you?' Magnus demands, white panic flooding over his face.
Maya shakes her head, 'We hid behind the ballroom curtains — Raphael got her to leave as soon as he heard Clary and Jace approaching. He said she was too valuable.'
'That she is, ' Magnus explains, 'Camille's made a lot of . . . . . connections during her time in New York. The entire clan would collapse if she got caught, '
'I'm guessing her being back in New York isn't a good thing?' Maya questions, with a nervous laugh. Her throat suddenly feels tight and dry, raw panic coating her insides at the thought of having to face the crooked vampire again.
'Don't worry, ' Magnus's eyes flash; for a second, Maya doesn't recognize him, his hand clenching into a fist around his cup, 'I won't let her get anywhere near you — not this time. Anyway - ' His expression morphs back into the friendly warlock she's familiar with, softening, '-enough about her. Do you think you'll be alright on your own tonight? I need to keep watch on the rest of our party, ' He gestures to the sounds coming from the living room, the clinking of glasses and soft laughter filling Maya's ears like background noise.
'It's fine, ' Maya suppresses a yawn, stretching out on the couch, 'I think I'll just go to bed . . . have an early night or something like that, '
Magnus's brows furrow, sensing the underlying frustration in her tired tone, 'Do you want to talk about it?'
'Not really, ' Maya shakes her head, ignoring the chaotic feelings that seem to claw harder inside her with every waking breath, 'I'm not really in the mood to talk right now, ' She sighs, getting up from the couch and walking to her room, 'Good night, Magnus, '
Maya feels his questioning stare on her back as she retreats into the guest room, but Magnus still doesn't make a single move to stop her. It's for the best, She reassures herself, heading to the cupboard and picking out a towel, What I need right now is a hot bath and some sleep, not to wail on the bathroom floor about how my life has fallen into pieces.
Even if that is all her heart desires at the moment.
Anyways, after a long, warm shower, muscles relaxed and hair conditioned, Maya tucks herself under the covers, ready to drift off to dreamland (in safety this time). Her eyes close easily at first, body sinking like a brick into the five-hundred-thread count sheets that Magnus adores so much. But in time, she realizes that no matter how many times she flops around like a dead whale (or tries to spoon her pillow), sleep is a lost cause.
Maya gives up at around one a.m, sighing in frustration as she stares at the ceiling. Church is cozily embedded in the sheets next to her (Magnus having the foresight to bring him home beforehand), curled up so tightly that he looks like a grey loaf of bread. He snuggles into her side, face looking adorably squishable as Church's head rests on her chest. She smiles, softly scratching behind his ears as the chubby feline purrs in his sleep, probably dreaming about stealing all the rotisserie chicken from their local grocery store.
If she never ends up having kids, Maya supposes that adopting another animal would fill the void.
Her mind wanders back to Nandini and Arjun's first-ever pet (and her first best friend), a sweet rescue German Shepherd that they'd named Oscar. Arjun had found him tied to a fence midway into their relationship, starving, broken and prepared to meet his end right there. He was absolutely terrified of the wizard at first, violently flinching away and barking whenever Arjun got a little too close for his liking. But the poor dog soon relented, her father (ish) managed to gain his trust and free him.
Apparently, in that moment, Oscar saw something in him, something worth keeping. No one knows anything about his past owner — Arjun didn't even want to know who'd tortured the poor animal to such a state. But somehow, the scarred canine was able to place his trust in a stranger, and follow him home despite not knowing what could come. Granted, Nandini wasn't exactly happy about having a big ( albeit adorable ), pointy-eared dog running around their already-worn house, but eventually relented after Oscar put his head in her lap, sighing in pleasure as she scratched behind his ears.
In the four years they had with him, Maya can't remember a single time he didn't try to protect her. Oscar could sometimes be a little rough to play with, but he never tried to intentionally bite or hurt the three of them. He was simply put — an absolute angel. A calm temperament, a love for peanut butter, and a bark that could scare off an entire army if needed, Oscar was a better family dog than any of them deserved. Nandini was originally scared about how he'd interact with a baby in the house, whether he'd be mad that he was no longer the sole beneficiary of all their attention. But Oscar did the exact opposite — in fact, one would say he acted more like Maya's father than Arjun ever did, curling up beside her crib as if to protect, barking for Nandini whenever Maya woke up in the middle of the night.
She remembers the warmth of his fur under her fingers, the golden amber of his beautiful eyes, the way he would chase the neighbor's chickens all the way to the end of their property as they screamed for their lives. Oscar lived a full, healthy life in the time they had with him, triple the love that his previous owner deprived him of. It made his passing hurt even more — shortly after Maya's third birthday due to a congenital heart defect that unfortunately had no cure. Nandini would often recount the aching absence of his loss that stayed for the next year, a void that neither her or Arjun knew how to explain. And when the latter was killed in a car accident not even a year later, Maya had felt as if her entire life had been violently uprooted, losing two of the people she loved the most in such a short span of time.
'At least they're both in a better place now, ' The older woman would whisper, softly stroking her daughter's hair as she cried into her chest, missing her dad and best friend so much that it felt like she would rip apart, 'You're dad's probably spoiling the shit out of him with treats in the afterlife, '
Wherever Oscar is right now, Maya supposes that he's not too happy about the situation she's landed herself in, probably barking at all of her bad decisions from above.
Suddenly, her phone rings from the nightstand, the sound making Church stir, probably grumbling feline curse words under his breath. Maya quickly gives him a reassuring pat on the head, reaching over his rounded body to grab the offending object. The brightness of her screen compared to the shadow of her room makes her eyes water, but it's nothing compared to the confusion that goes through her head when she sees the caller ID.
Diana.
It's awfully early in the morning for her best friend to be awake — London is five hours ahead of New York. But Maya can't help but feel bad for her, knowing her lack of sleep might have something to do with her situation rather than her circadian rhythm. It can't be easy living at Malfoy Manor, considering the fracture that's currently running through their family. She sighs, picking up the call and pressing the phone to her ear.
Even though Maya's halfway across the world, the least she can do is be there for her best friend.
'Hello?' Maya yawns, groaning and stretching out on the bed; Church makes a disgruntled noise from next to her, looking very miffed that she's woken his royal highness up from his slumber, 'What's up, Di?'
There's a shocked silence from the other end of the phone, ' . . . . . Maya?'
Her eyes widen.
No way.
There is absolutely no way that Draco Malfoy is on the other end of the phone right now.
Maybe she's just dreaming. Maybe this is all just an elaborate ruse set by her brain to get her to calm down, distract her from the terrifying uncertainty of the world around her.
' . . . Maya? Are you there?'
Definitely not a dream.
'What . . . what are you doing here?' Shit. Maya mentally kicks herself for sounding so stupid, ' I mean — what are you doing up so late?'
'Oh, nothing, ' His dry tone sends a familiar warm feeling down her spine despite the sarcasm, 'Just worshipping Satan as usual. I find that it's a very nice way to pass time, you know, '
'Of course you'd be vain enough to worship yourself, ' Maya mutters. His amused scoff makes her stomach flip, and Maya has to take a deep breath to collect herself before continuing, 'I'm serious — why are you awake?'
'You don't want to know, ' The unease in his voice makes her stiffen before his tone turns softer, 'Why are you?'
'Adrenaline, I guess, ' Maya sighs, glancing outside. The New York city skyline shines back at her, the skyscrapers still keeping their lights on even at this time of night, 'It's been an . . . eventful . . . couple of days'
'Now look who's being cryptic, ' Draco sounds amused, as she rolls her eyes at him, 'What'd you do? Chase your cat through a bush? Fight someone because they stole your coffee order?'
'Is that seriously what you think I do with my life?' Maya scoffs, rolling her eyes.
'Well, you're not exactly the adventurous type, if I remember correctly, ' He quips, 'Jumping off skyscrapers and chasing criminals around town isn't really your thing,'
'You'd be surprised, ' Maya mutters under her breath, surprised at how accurately ironic his assumptions are.
'What do you mean?' He questions, abruptly. There's something slightly suspicious about his tone that she doesn't like.
'Just some Institute things, ' She brushes it off as casually as she can, knowing that telling him the details of the catastrophe around her will only cause it to become more complicated, 'I'm not really allowed to say anything for security reasons . . . but it's just a lot to deal with at once, '
'Something the great Maya Rajesh can't handle?' Draco's voice is so sardonic that Maya has to stifle a laugh, 'Must be the end of mankind, then.'
'What would I do without your sunshine presence?' She sighs, twirling a strand of dark hair around her index finger. It's amazing how quickly Maya manages to unravel with him, let loose all the tension that's been plaguing her for the past few days.
'Weren't you still calling me a pain the ass around two months ago?' He questions; She can picture him raising a perfect blond eyebrow from the other end of the line, an amused smirk painted on his lips.
'Yeah, well now you're an attractive pain in the ass, ' Maya grumbles; She hears Draco laugh, a deep, warm sound that brings a smile to her own face, 'What's so funny?'
'Never thought I'd hear that sentence coming out of your mouth, ' He quips, 'But then again, you've confirmed what I've already known my entire life, so.'
'Oh shut up' Maya snorts, 'Don't act like no one's ever called you hot before. Didn't Parkinson literally praise you every minute of your existence?'
'Shut up' The tone of his voice has suddenly retreated in embarrassment; She can picture his reddened cheeks from halfway across the world.
'Why?' challenges Maya, a wicked smirk curling around her lips at the thought of being able to get him so riled up. She puts on a high falsetto, imitating the shrill, high tones of Pansy's voice that used to make her want to scratch her eardrums, 'Oh, I would die for your eyes! That hair, oh Merlin, it's softer than clouds! Your jawline could cut my soul in half! Drakey-poo! — '
'If you don't stop, I'll — '
'You'll what?' She scoffs, 'Portkey halfway across the world just to make me?'
There's a pregnant pause, in which Maya starts to realize how much of an innuendo her words carry.
Then Draco sighs, nonchalantly 'I suppose kissing you to keep you quiet would just be threatening you with a good time.'
Maya sputters, cheeks flaming red and a shiver running down her spine, 'You'll never actually do it, '
She can feel his smirk from the other end of the line, 'Want to test that theory?'
The sound of glass breaking makes Maya's blood run cold. Magnus's angry yell resounds from the other side of the door.
Maya whips her head around just in time as Draco interrupts, 'Hello? Maya?! What was that sound?!'
'I-I'm sorry, ' she stutters, 'I have to go. It's urgent.'
'Wait! — '
She cuts the call before he can protest.
Maya ignores the guilt pounding in her chest as she arms herself with her trusty knives, Church at her heels as they slowly creep out into the living room. The apartment has been ransacked, no signs of any of the other warlocks among the torn, peeling wallpaper and overthrown furniture. She hides behind a wall, looking over the edge to see Magnus fighting off a Circle Member with his magic. His cat eyes are on full display, throwing a bookcase onto the ground as a barrier between them.
His opponent looks unimpressed, glaring down at him with an air of refined superiority, 'Your magic’s strong, warlock. Much stronger than that horned weakling I killed this morning.'
Magnus's expression cracks; He looks utterly horrified, 'Elias?'
'Lucky for us, he sold you out before I took his warlock mark. Cat’s eyes, ' The man smirks in a cruel way that makes shivers run down Maya's spine, 'Be a nice addition to my collection.'
Rage whirls up inside Maya's chest; she rips one of her knives out, prepared to land it into the man's chest.
However, someone beats her to it. A familiar arrow is shot into the Circle member's leg, disarming him as the seraph blade in his hand clatters to the ground. He groans, falling onto his knees. Magnus snarls as he flicks his hand, flames shooting out of his fingertips and wrapping themselves around the man's neck like a noose. It squeezes for a second before vanishing into thin air, the man's cold, lifeless corpse thudding onto the floor of the apartment.
Alec stands at the door, lowering his bow. There's a faint tint of pink in his cheeks as he speaks, 'Well done.'
'More like medium-rare, ' Magnus chuckles. He seems curious as the two of them step away from the dead body and towards each other, a certain tension surrounding them that Maya can't find words to describe, 'I’m Magnus. I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced.'
'Alec, ' The boy in question smiles, a dimpled, genuine smile that Maya rarely ever sees him give anyone.
They hold their gazes for a faint, heart-stopping second before it feels like she's starting to intrude. Maya steps out from her hiding place, holding Church in her arms, 'What are you guys doing here?'
Just as it started, the moment stops. Magnus sighs, disappointed as Alec turns away, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, 'I — uh — you should probably ask Jace that. He insisted on tracking Magnus all the way here, '
'That's not creepy at all, ' Maya sighs, absentmindedly scratching behind Church's ears. The feline leaps from her arms to the floor, small paws avoiding the debris and making his way to the living room.
'Oh,' Alec seems to remember himself at that very moment, voice taking on a shy, sweet tone that she's only ever seen him use around Jace, 'We should really — You know — probably get —' He awkwardly gestures to the general direction of the exit.
Magnus smooths things over with some cool reassurance, 'Right, we should join the party.'
'Right.' Alec swallows, looking nervous for a second before walking off, readjusting the collar of his shirt as he heads to the living room.
'I'll go get changed, then' Maya takes this as her cue to leave, but Magnus stops her just in time, grabbing her by the back of her arm.
'Not so fast, ' He presses, as Maya rolls her eyes, 'Who were you talking to back there? I heard you on the phone with someone, '
'No one, ' Maya says, a little too quickly; Her cheeks flame at the thought of her less-than-innocent conversation with Draco, 'Just a friend, '
Magnus raises a knowing eyebrow, 'It didn't sound very friendly, '
'I could say the same about you and Alec, ' Maya scoffs, internally snickering at the way panic blooms in his eyes, her fingers forming air quotes, 'More like medium-rare'
'Oh shut up' He quickly averts his gaze.
'I smell hypocrisy!' Maya calls out as she walks off, laughing as she hears Magnus groan behind her.
This is certainly an interesting development.
'Ah, much better, ' Magnus sighs, marveling his work as the six of them stand in his apartment, portaled there directly from the invaded safe-house. Maya notices the way Jace's arm is wrapped around Clary's waist in a less-than platonic manner. She shoots him a questioning look, but he dismisses it with a perfunctory wave.
The warlock turns around, immediately sighing in distaste at the drab nature of their surroundings, 'Ugh, it’s inevitable. After each move, I get the itch to redecorate, ' His eyes not-so-subtly flit to Alec, who immediately busies himself with the cuffs of his shirt, 'Normally, I love a dirty lair, but this one is just sloppy.'
Alec looks puzzled as Magnus crosses the room, raising his eyebrows as he passes the Shadowhunter and comes to stand in front of Isabelle, 'I believe in payment for services rendered. Thank you for defending the warlocks.' He holds up the glittering ruby amulet that originally belonged to Camille.
'I couldn’t — ' Isabelle tries to refuse, but Maya spots the longing in her eyes, probably thinking about how well it would go with her silver minidress.
'Oh, but you could. And you should.' Magnus steps behind her, clasping it onto Isabelle's neck, 'The Lightwoods have been wearing this for years. Besides, this would look silly on your brother, ' His voice drops to a low whisper, but Maya's still standing close enough to him to be within earshot, 'About Alec, is he more of a flower or a cologne man?'
Izzy snorts, covering her mouth to muffle the laughter as her brother shoots her a quizzical look. Clary sighs, crossing her pale arms over her chest, 'Okay, so how do we summon the memory demon?'
'Are you certain?' Magnus presses, looking worried, 'Summoning such a powerful demon could be lethal.'
The look in Clary's eyes is determined, fierce in a way Maya's never seen before, 'I’ll do anything to save my mother.'
'Okay, ' The warlock sighs, clasping his hands together. He turns around to face the two parabatai, 'Pretty boy, get your team ready.'
Jace rolls his eyes, stepping forward, 'I know what to do.'
Magnus looks disgusted. He pushes Jace away with a single finger, sighing in distaste, 'I’m not talking to you, ' His gaze falls on a certain archer, pointing to him, 'I’m talking to you, '
Jace looks utterly offended as Maya snorts. Alec immediately blushes at his words, glaring at Izzy as she nudges her brother, giving him a knowing smirk.
Magnus and Clary head to the other room, a pair of chalks in the latter's hand, presumably to draw the pentagram. Jace follows soon after, anxiously twirling his stele as his boots scrape along the concrete. The remaining three of them plop down on a nearby loveseat, Isabelle's arm immediately wrapping around Maya as Alec whips out his phone, using technology as a way to avoid eye contact with the both of them.
'He's going to rune her, isn't he?' Maya flicks her head in the general direction of Jace, whose deep voice is barely audible from their position as he argues with Magnus.
'It's so powerful, ' Isabelle sighs, sadly, 'I doubt Clary's going to take it well, '
An agonized scream makes all of them jump; Clary whimpers as though she's in the worst pain of her life for approximately five seconds until Jace steps out, putting his stele back into it's holster. His face is ashy with anxiety.
'I think that answers your question, ' Alec states, bluntly, not looking up from his phone.
Even though she's a major pain in the ass, Maya has to admit that Clary Fray is certainly a talented artist.
The pastel pentagram looks stunning against the dark grey of the concrete, all soft swirls and muted colors, but contrasting greatly with the sharp lines making up the six points that jut out from the circle, presumably where they're all supposed to be standing. Clary brushes off the remaining chalk dust off of her black dress, red curls bouncing down her back as Magnus inspects her work.
'Jocelyn was right, ' he mutters, awed, 'Your artistry is beyond compare.'
Clary blushes, visibly flustered by his compliment, 'I don’t know about that.'
'Oh, the only other person I’ve known who could draw as well was Michelangelo, ' Magnus rolls his eyes, giving Alec a pointed look before finishing his sentence, 'Who was excellent in bed, I might add.'
Isabelle stifles a snicker underneath her breath; Alec once again avoids eye contact with the rest of the room.
'Okay, ' Magnus sighs, 'We’re ready. Everyone, take your rightful places on the pentagram.'
After some lost chicken-like behaviour from Clary (aided to her spot by Jace), Magnus speaks again, 'We must initiate a bond. Once this bond is sealed, it cannot be broken until the demon retreats. No matter what happens, we must not let go of each other’s hands.'
He tentatively outstretches his hand to Alec, who stares at it in consideration for half a second before linking their fingers together. A low boom resounds as soon as the connection is made, followed by a second one as Jace extends his hand to Clary, who visibly melts as their fingers join.
'You people are pathetic, ' Isabelle rolls her eyes at the four of them, an amused smirk gracing her full lips.
'Love you too, Iz, ' Maya replies, sarcasm dripping from her tone. Isabelle grabs her hand, Alec already holding the other, and once they're all linked together, Magnus gives them more instructions, 'I will lead the ceremony, and you all must do exactly as I say. The demon’s name is Valak. And at some point, he will ask for payment in exchange for Clary’s memories, '
'What kind of payment?' Jace looks suspicious.
'We will see, ' Magnus shrugs, nonchalantly, as if this is something he regularly does in his free time, 'Let us begin.'
He starts chanting in Chthonian, an old demon language that's often used to cast powerful spells by warlock. It's supposed to be a sub-dialect of ancient Indonesian, but Maya's only able to pick up a few words here and there, not having studied it in her childhood like the rest of her friends.
'The necklace . . .' Izzy gasps, 'It’s pulsing!'
Maya looks to her right to find the amulet flashing at her friend's throat, light blinking on and off like a police siren. But she doesn't have much more time to thing, as a great, black wind starts to rise from the center of the pentagram. The sight of it makes chills run down her spine, and as it grows larger, she realizes that it's the demon's uncontained form, eerie voices and whispers swirling from within.
'Valak is among us.' Magnus growls, eyes determined and fierce, 'Do not break the bond!'
'Hold on!' Jace shouts, struggling to keep his grip intact.
'I’m trying!' Clary yells back, the harsh wind making her balance falter.
'It's time!' Magnus states, as Isabelle's grip turns painful on Maya's wrist, 'The demon demands payment.'
'What does it want?!' Alec yells, barely able to hear himself over the rush of wind in the room.
Magnus sighs, 'We must each relinquish a beloved memory of the one we love the most.'
Maya sighs, willing herself to concentrate throughout all of the chaos around her. She pushes a memory of Nandini to the front of her mind, the image of her mother cheerfully making dosais in the kitchen reflected in the smoke before vanishing into obscurity. Isabelle brings forth a memory of her brother playing-hide-and-seek with her during childhood, Clary a memory of a pale, red-haired woman smearing paint onto a canvas.
But shit hits the fan when it's Alec's turn — instead of an image involving Maryse or Max, his younger brother, Alec's memory involves a smirking Jace, sparring with him in the training room as his messy hair falls in his eyes. The Lightwood looks horrified as Maya's heart drops into her stomach, the shocked gaze of his parabatai only making his embarrassment deepen.
'No, it’s not true!' Alec denies, yelling as the wind becomes stronger, 'The demon deceived me!'
'Do not break the bond!!' Magnus shouts, tightening his grip on the Shadowhunter's hand.
His sister tries to reason with him, 'Alec, it’s okay!'
'No!!!' Alec screams, shaking his head. He drops his hand from Magnus's grip, the demon letting loose an angry yell once the bond breaks.
'Alec!!' Jace screams, panicked, just as Magnus yells out a horrified, 'No!!'. The smoke grows to a terrifying extent, throwing all of them back as it expands beyond the pentagram. Maya lands on the floor, shielding her eyes as the bright light of Magnus's magic drowns out everything else.
'I cannot contain the demon much longer!!' He yells, his grip starting to strain.
Maya makes a move to help him, panic spiking in her chest, but Alec runs past her, coming-face-to-face with the demon itself. Her blood runs cold as the entity growls, tendrils of black smoke starting to tie themselves around the Shadowhunter.
'No!' Jace screams, pushing his parabatai out of the way. The demon snarls as it grabs him instead, his body disappearing into the thick, black smoke. Isabelle screams as Maya runs forward, managing to grab one of his arms as Alec runs for the other.
'Hold on!' The Lightwood cries, as the both of them struggle to maintain their grip; Maya has to put her entire body weight into keeping him there, the muscles in her arms struggling with his weight.
'The demon is growing stronger!' Magnus yells in alarm. The golden tendrils of his magic struggle to wrap around the smoke, unable to contain it in it's entirety. Jace screams, his tall and sturdy frame being thrown around like a ragdoll in the chaos that surrounds them.
'He’s slipping!!' Maya shrieks, panicking as she feels his fingertips draw away from hers. Alec tries hard to pull him back, but to no avail; Jace just slips further into the blackness, his body barely visible in the dark smoke.
'Clary, do something!!' Isabelle screams, terrified.
The redhead immediately reaches for her seraph blade, running headfirst towards the demon with her arm raised. However, Magnus tries to stop her, 'Clary, if you kill the demon, your memories will be lost forever!!'
'Help us!!' Isabelle yells, quickly grabbing Maya's arm as her feet start to lift off the ground; She looks at Clary with an expression of utter desperation, 'Come on!'
Clary looks conflicted, looking between the two of them with bewilderment. But as Jace yells expletives from the smoke, she seems to make her decision; Clary jams her blade right into the center of the blackness, dissolving the demon — and sending them all tumbling to the ground. Jace's unconscious body thuds on the concrete; his skin is deathly pale, looking sick and wan as everyone rushes to his side.
'Oh no . . . . ' Clary breathes, panic breathes as she tries to shake Jace awake, the unconscious Shadowhunter remaining unresponsive, 'Jace? Can you hear me?!'
'Jace, get up.' Alec breathes, tugging his arm. Maya checks his pulse — it's faint, but the slight thud is still present. His chest is slowly rising and falling, the only indication that he's even alive.
'Is he gonna be all right?' Clary whips around to face Magnus, her face filled with anxious concern.
'I don’t know, ' The warlock quips, sarcasm dripping from his dry tone, 'Does he normally just lay like that without moving?'
'Jace, come on, ' Maya sighs, glaring at Magnus. An idea pops into her head — she slowly reaches out to touch his forearm before tugging the skin in a sharp, hard pinch.
The pain makes his eyes shoot open; Jace groans, swatting her away, 'Bitch'
'I just saved your life, asshole ' Maya snaps, rolling her eyes at him, 'You could at least try to be grateful, '
'Yeah, sure, ' Jace coughs violently, slamming his fist on the ground as his throat chokes and gags.
'You okay?' Clary sighs, empathetically patting his back.
'M'fine, ' Jace croaks, exploding into a coughing fit once more, 'Just ejecting demon brain from my lungs,'
'I'll take that as a yes, ' Isabelle mutters, rolling her eyes at the fact of him still being a sarcastic little shit even though he was on the brink of death just moments ago.
Alec immediately gets up, brushing the dust off of his dark pants. He turns to leave, avoiding eye contact with a confused Jace, head down and fists clenched in a way that her mother would deem as forlorn.
'Where're you going?' Isabelle sighs, grabbing his arm before he can walk out the door.
‘Out, ‘ Alec replies, curtly, not sparing his younger sister a glance.
‘Alec, please — ‘
He shakes her off, ignoring Isabelle’s pleas as Magnus runs after him to the living room. She rises on her knees, making a move to go after him, but Maya stops her.
‘Give him some space, ‘ She mutters, softly, lowering her voice just low enough for the two of them to hear, ‘Valak just threw him out of the closet, ‘
Chapter 49: Chapter 49
Chapter Text
July 2016
THE NEXT MORNING, AN INCONSPICUOUS NECKLACE answers the question Maya's had for so long — the reason behind Clary's inexplicable visions.
'It’s a Portal shard, ' Jace breathes, holding up the glimmering amethyst in the sunrise light, 'That’s why your mother made sure you had it.''
'All I know is what I saw, ' Clary sighs, rubbing her temples, 'My mother’s alive. She’s unconscious, but alive. Valentine said that it was either her or the cup, '
'That's certainly promising, ' Maya mutters under her breath; She rubs her arms, cursing the overly air-conditioned interior of the Institute.
'Where are they?' Alec questions, a hint of accusation in his tone.
'I don’t know — ' Clary starts.
'But you said you saw them, ' He demands, tone heated, 'Were there any identifying characteristics? Equipment, weapons, photographs?
'I-I don’t remember. It was awful.' She sighs, looking down. A pinch of guilt stings Maya as she watches Clary swallow, nervously, nails digging into the tender flesh of her palms.
Jace's tone is stern as he cuts off his parabatai, 'Alec, lighten up.'
' I’m trying to get something we can use out of this, ' Alec refuses to make eye contact with the blonde, instead continuing to demand information, 'Clary, what did you see, exactly?'
'Valentine has my mother! That’s all I saw!!' The redhead bursts out, frustrated.
'Emotions are nothing but a distraction, ' Alec huffs, disgusted, 'You’re ruled by them. We’re taught to control them, '
'And how's that working out for you?' Clary snaps.
Maya's had enough of their bickering, 'Enough!' she proclaims, sternly pushing them apart.
'It is my job to protect the Institute, ' Alec snaps, ignoring her, 'If Valentine can see in, that’s a door I have to shut. Now… let me take a look at that thing.'
Jace reluctantly hands the necklace to Alec. The brunette inspects the amulet, turning it over in his hands, 'Now, it’s in the proper hands, ' He walks away.
'Hey!' Clary calls after him, the three of them on his tail, 'Alec! What are you doing?!'
'To put this somewhere safe,, ' He mutters, 'Where no one could be tempted to use it.'
Jace walks up to them, panting, 'We should use it. Alec, we should use it to get to Valentine, '
Alec rolls his eyes, 'If I were Valentine, I’d make sure you think that you could rescue Jocelyn. And then I’d lure Clary to me and leverage her life for the Cup.'
Maya sighs — as inconsiderate his tendencies are, Alec is right. This could very well be a trap set for them to walk into.
'I like Jace’s idea, ' Clary starts, as Alec crouches, tapping his rune on one of the training room floor; it slides away to leave a metal box, 'We saved Simon from the vampires that way.'
'Yeah… vampires. Bored, decadent, self-involved vampires, ' Alec stashes the necklace, eyes cold as he stands back up, turning around to face them, 'Valentine is a real threat, ' He scoffs, turning his gaze to Clary, 'He can’t be handled by a warlock and three-and-a-half Shadowhunters.'
'Four, ' Clary snaps, her gaze burning holes into his; Maya can feel the rage radiating off of her.
'Whatever, ' Alec rolls his eyes, breaking their standoff, sparing her one last contemptuous glance before walking away, 'Leave it there, '
Throughout the day, Magnus blows up her phone with messages, trying to convince her to come back home. That it's not safe at the Institute, that people could take advantage of her precarious position, that it would be much more rational for her to remain at his apartment while they figure out a plan. Maya maintains the same argument that she had with Nandini — it's too late for her to leave, she's too involved in the mission, backing out could tip over the fragile balance that contains all of her friend's lives. She's too important of a link, and now that the Downworld knows that Maya's working with the New York Institute, there's no guarantee that they won't see her as a traitor, try to seek revenge. If she leaves — they could lose everything they have.
At least, that's what Maya tries to tell herself.
Deep down, she knows that this is wrong. That she shouldn't be getting involved in something that doesn't concern her, that Isabelle and Jace are being selfish by dragging her into a mission that was supposed to be theirs. That she's built for coffee shops and carpal tunnel syndrome, not throwing knives and breaking into vampire lairs. But some small part of her finds this almost satisfying, the constant adrenaline running through her veins being a wake up call — that Maya's been living in a bubble all this time, and now it's time to burst it herself.
Her insides constantly writhe in anxiety, hands cold with uncertainty, not knowing anymore what the future will bring. If Valentine truly is back, and his daughter is the very red-haired menace picking at her noodles across the Institute cafeteria table — Maya can't fathom how badly their worlds have turned upside down.
'Are you okay?' She finally manages to say, putting down her forkful of vegetarian Caesar salad, not having the strength to force herself to eat anymore.
Clary doesn't look up from her plate, 'What do you think?'
'Cut the crap, Fray, ' Maya rolls her eyes, 'It's weird to see you so . . . . demotivated, '
'Not the word I would use, ' Clary scoffs, looking out the window, 'I can't believe Alec, '
'He's right and you know it, ' Maya replies, sternly; Her tone softens, 'Alec was harsh, but he was telling the truth— that necklace is the perfect death trap. Who knows what could happen if it accidentally fell into the wrong hands?'
The redhead forcefully stabs a piece of pasta; Maya flinches at the clatter her fork makes on the plate, 'I’ll take the risk on my own, thanks, '
'That's exactly the problem, ' She interjects, pointing her fork at Clary, 'You're not alone anymore. You're part of a team — and with teamwork, comes patience, '
'I don't think patience is exactly going to get her out of Valentine's grasp sooner, ' Clary snaps, 'The longer we wait, the more time Valentine's around her and the more chances he has to — '
'He won't hurt her. The bastard's too conniving for that, ' Maya shakes her head, returning to picking on the remains of her salad, 'Not when she's the only link he has to you. Don't worry — ' She interjects, noticing the scared look on Clary's face, ' — we'll find her before anything bad happens. Jace's probably combing through some leads right now, '
'I just — ' Clary sighs, frustrated, 'I wish I knew what to do. All of this, it’s so new to me. I’ll do anything to save her.'
'You must care about her a lot, ' Maya mutters.
'So, what's your mom like?' Clary clears her throat, awkwardly.
Maya raises a confused eyebrow, 'What's with the sudden interest in my personal life?'
Clary snorts; it's clear that she wants to change the subject, 'Stop acting so modest. Out of everyone, I know the least about you. So spill,'
Maya rolls her eyes, a faint smile quirking the corner of her mouth; She decides to humor the redhead for a little bit, 'I don't know what you want me to say, ' She sighs, deeply, 'My mom's . . . . . complicated. She's kind, but doesn't show it. Acts strong, tough — people tend not to cross her because of how intimidating she looks. But she's fiercely loyal, surprisingly funny, really, really smart, just wants the best for everyone around her. She's strict, but I know that's just because she wants me to be safe. It's been just the two of us for a while and people tend to look down upon her for being a single mom, but I love her to death, so none of that really matters, '
'So you understand, then?' Clary's voice is soft, surprised as she stares at Maya, perplexed.
Maya's not surprised — she doesn't show emotion around people she doesn't trust. Nandini's always told her to keep her prized cards close to her chest — that emotions can be your downfall if your enemies find a way to manipulate them. But somehow, there's something innately good about Clary Fairchild that's earned her trust; a light that won't go out no matter how many times the Shadow world tries to snuffle it.
If Valentine's daughter wanted to hurt them, Maya supposes, she would've done it by now.
'I don't exactly agree with your methods, ' Maya sighs, finally, daring to make eye contact with the redhead, 'But yeah — I understand where you're coming from, '
'We have a problem, ' Izzy hisses as she suddenly sits down next to them, interrupting their conversation. She looks pretty in a tight, black lace dress, her raven-black hair spilling in gorgeous curls over her shoulders. But it's the pinched, harried expression on her face that makes Maya nervous. This sort of anxiety only happens when Izzy's around one person in particular.
'Oh no, ' Maya moans, dread settling in her stomach, 'Please don't tell me—'
'Isabelle!' The familiar voice of Maryse Lightwood echoes from next to her, 'Dressed to impress, I see, ' Her sharp gaze flits to the empty hollow of her daughter's throat, where Magnus's amulet used to lay, 'And you’ve been playing with the family heirlooms.'
'Mom, ' Isabelle clears her throat, nervously playing with the hem of her dress, 'I didn't know you were coming . . .'
Maryse's tight ponytail makes her look even more stern and severe as she answers, 'Well, now you do ' Her cold eyes meet Maya's, the latter immediately standing up straighter as a way to feel less self conscious, 'And you, Maya. Does your mother know about what you've been up to all this time?'
'Un-unfortunately, ' Maya stutters, her usual confidence misplaced; there's something deeply authoritarian about Maryse Lightwood that always seems to throw her off balance. She brushes the nonexistent dust off of her velvet skater skirt — a wardrobe choice that this morning, seemed trendy and suave. But in front of the Institute's head, it makes Maya feel nothing but childish, 'She's not really happy . . . . but we don't really have a choice at this point, so . . . . '
'I see, ' Maryse nods, perfunctory. Something changes in her eyes at the mention of Nandini — for a split second, Maya can see a flicker of guilt in her otherwise-composed expression, 'Give her my regards, then, '
'Hi, ' Clary nervously offers Maryse her hand, clearly attempting to diffuse the rapidly-thickening tension in the room, 'I’m Clary Fray.'
'Clary Fairchild,' The older woman corrects, not accepting her gesture; She appraises the redhead for a few seconds, 'You look just like your mother. We know all about you in Idris.
'Idris?' Clary looks confused.
'The Shadowhunter homeland, ' Isabelle pipes in, quickly, ' If you think the Institute is well-hidden, wait until you see that place, ' She turns back to her mom, plastering on a polite smile, 'How’s Max? We all miss him, '
Maryse looks unaffected by her daughter's attempts to please, 'Robert’s picking him up at the Mumbai Institute, ' She brushes past them, 'Where is Jace? We have a situation that has to be handled now.'
'Well, ' Isabelle sighs; Although she tries to appear casual, Maya can sense the disappointment in her tone, 'That’s my mom.'
In other words — they're all screwed.
'Is your mom always like that?, ' Clary whispers to Izzy; The three of them watch from the sidelines as Jace and Alec spar in the training room, Maryse watching a few feet away, 'She didn’t even hug you.'
Isabelle brushes it off, 'Shadowhunters aren’t big huggers, '
As if on cue, Jace finishes up his training, smiling at the older woman as he wipes the sweat off of his brow, 'Maryse, hey! It’s great to see you, ' Much to Maya's surprise, she wraps him in a hug as he walks up to her, squeezing tight once before letting go, 'How’s everyone in Idris?' He looks around, confused, 'Where’s, uh… where’s Max?
'No Max, ' Isabelle mutters, looking at the ground, just low enough for Maya to hear, 'Just mom with her hair on fire.'
'I love how Shadowhunters share, ' Sarcasm drips from Clary's tone; Maya can't help but snort at how dry she sounds, 'A hidden brother, a secret country, and a private Portal,'
'Mother, ' Alec pushes his hair off his forehead, wrapping his mother in yet another hug; Isabelle looks at the ground, her slim shoulders tensing, 'Welcome back. We didn’t expect you.'
'You should be prepared, whether you expect me or not.' Maryse's tone is wry, warmer as they break apart.
'I am.' Alec immediately says, correcting himself, 'We are.'
She seems to notice the slight panic in her son's voice; Maryse changes the subject, sighing as she puts her hands on her hips, 'We’ll talk about the Institute later. Right now, we have a bigger problem. The Seelies have stopped communicating with the Clave and won’t explain why. My guess is they’re still upset we asked them to send scouts to look for Valentine, but no one in their realm will talk.'
'I have Seelie friends!' Isabelle instantly pipes up.
'Yes, I know about your friends. Isabelle, ' Maryse's voice is patronizing as she addresses her daughter, 'We stay separate from the Downworld for good reasons. The wrong move, the wrong word… Do you think there is such a thing as harmless rebellion? Who knows what offends these creatures? Maybe you told him… them… something they shouldn’t know. Maybe you trod on one of their ridiculous customs without knowing it.'
'Excuse me?' Maya scoffs. Maryse's words feel like glass under her ribs, the prickling pain leaving an ugly taste in her mouth. She's never established a proper relationship with the Lightwood matriarch, but there's always been a bit of a rigid understanding between them. Maryse has never excluded her, treated her differently from her own children — until now, that is.
'Wait, wait. I don’t understand, ' Jace scoffs, 'You’re laying all this on Izzy for having a friend in the Downworld?'
'When someone upsets the natural order, everything falls apart, ' The older woman states, plainly.
'Natural order?' Maya laughs, the sound feeling hollow in her bones. Clary shoots her a look of pity, but it feels more like scorn as something shatters inside her chest.
'I can help!' Isabelle interrupts, 'I know how to talk to Seelies.'
'She’s right, ' Her brother concurs, trying to change the subject 'She can visit with Meliorn and see what he knows. I could go with her if you want.'
'I’d rather Jace goes along this time, ' Maryse shoots Clary a withering look, 'Alec, you stay with the Fairchild girl. I want her under control. She’s caused enough trouble already.'
'Maybe that’s because I wasn’t even a Shadowhunter until a few days ago!' Clary snaps, the anger bursting from her voice. Maya flinches from the violent tone of her voice.
'And what an exciting few days it has been, ' The irritation in the other woman's voice is palpable, 'The Clave counts on us Lightwoods to maintain order here.'
'You don’t need to tell me that, ' Alec interjects, quickly changing the subject; It's clear that he would rather opt out of the redhead's fist landing in his mother's face, 'If the mission is important to the Clave, I would prefer to be the one who goes with Isabelle, '
'You’re all so eager to do what you would prefer, ' Maryse laughs, the sound coming out hollow and humorless; Her voice suddenly loses it's jest, 'It’s time to face the truth. Life is not about what you want to do, it’s about what must be done. I have given you your assignments, now carry them out, ' She gestures to Izzy and Jace, both standing there awkwardly amidst the tense atmosphere, 'You and you, with me, now.'
The two of them scurry after the Lightwood matriarch like headless chickens, her tall pumps clicking along the marble floors of the Institute as she walks out of sight. The tense silence in the room thickens as Clary elbows Alec, her voice low and conspiratorial even though there's no one in the room other than the three of them, 'Well, that was a window into the weird. What did you do to piss off your mom?'
Alec's tone is drier than two-day-old Mcdonald's fries when he responds, 'I’d guess, for a start… all the unsanctioned missions on your behalf didn’t go over that big with the Clave.'
When Diana finally calls her phone after the chaos of last night, Maya can't find it in her heart to push her best friend away.
Standing up here on the Institute rooftop, it's easier in the afternoon light to tell that she made a very poor decision last night. Prolonging her conversation with Draco was a huge mistake. She'd thought with her heart, not her head, throwing out rationality in exchange for a few moments of peace and quiet. And it was effective, too; the fifteen-odd minutes that they talked have been the safest she's ever felt in the last few days. With him, it's like the world falls away, and they're the only two people in the universe. But the more questions he asked, the more Maya felt like she was being backed into a corner, and even though his heart was in the right place, hers felt like it was permanently lodged in her stomach.
No one can find out about the mess that she's gotten herself into — especially someone that Maya cares about in a way that she's never felt before.
"I'm fine, okay?" She sighs into the phone; The New York sunset paints the sky above her, all soft peach and yellow against the harsh, dark lines of the city's skyscrapers, "Nothing happened, it was just Church being his clumsy self and knocking over one of my mom's glass vases, "
"I don't remember your mom owning any glass vases, " Diana mutters, suspiciously; Her tone grows accusing, "What's really going on, Maya?"
"Nothing—"
"Bullshit, " The Hufflepuff's tone is seething, though Maya can sense the underlying worry beneath the anger, "You're hiding something, I can tell, "
"I'm not doing anything of the sort — "
"Are you on drugs?"
"What?!" Maya sputters, shocked, the phone nearly slipping from her grasp.
"Y'know, dope, grass, Mary Jane. There's nothing wrong with smoking some green to take the edge off, " Diana's voice is unnervingly casual as she continues, "I've heard Firewhisky works as well, "
"You know I'm not interested in that stuff, Diana," Maya sighs.
"What's so bloody important that you can't tell me, of all people?"
"It's Institute drama alright?" Maya sighs. Part of her feels guilty for lying to her best friend, the one person who's been there for her despite everything. But her rationality knows that telling Diana will only make her want to get involved — and having her best friend Portal all the way back here when the Shadow World’s Voldemort's decided to make a comeback definitely constitutes as child endangerment, "I'll get sacked if I say anything,"
"Not even when your house is getting broken into?"
"Nothing. Happened. Okay?" Maya growls, through gritted teeth, "Church was just being his usual clumsy self, and he's asleep in the Library right now, "
Diana's tone turns softer, "Maya . . . come on. The lying, evading questions — this isn't you. We're all worried. You haven't seemed like yourself lately, "
"Diana, drop it, " Maya sighs, out of exasperation; She's too tired to keep arguing any longer, rubbing her temples with one hand, "Even if something does happen, I'll be fine. You know I can handle myself exceptionally, "
"Yeah, I do" Diana laughs, softly, breaking the tense atmosphere between them, "I'm just scared right now, I guess. Everything's so uncertain outside, "
"Is everything okay at home?" Maya questions, concerned; There's a certain sadness to her best friend's voice that she rarely hears, "How're you all coping after . . . you know?"
"That's certainly a question for the ages, " Diana muses; Her jovial turn seeps into hollow, "Mum's drained over half of our wine cellar — sometimes I wonder if she's trying to drown herself in spirits. Draco locks himself in his room for most of the day — I don't know what he does in there, but I'm not going to question his coping mechanisms. We talk, sometimes, but it's not like it used to be, "
"And you?" Maya says; Her tone turns firm, "Please tell me you're taking care of yourself, Di,"
"If you mean putting on face masks to try and convince myself that my mental health isn't roasting in the flames of hell alongside Hitler then yes, I certainly am, " Diana sighs, her voice tinged with a kind of pain that makes Maya's heart twist, "I'm reading the books I got for last Christmas. Luna writes to me every week — it’s a sweet gesture, but I can tell she doesn't really know what to do. Mostly I just put on my headphones and try to use the Arctic Monkeys to forget the fact that our world is literally on fucking fire. But other than that, I'm perfectly chuffed as you can tell, "
"That — that's awful . . . " Maya sputters, "I'm so sorry, I wish I could be there with you, "
"It’s alright, Maya, " Diana sighs; her tone flattening, "Look, the best thing you can do for me is focus on yourself, alright? I don't want to have to portkey all the way to St. Jude's because you stabbed yourself in the ankle with a seraph blade, "
"Do you really think that low of me?!" Maya gasps, in mock-shock.
"Obviously, " Diana snorts, "You couldn't hurt a fly if you wanted to, " She sighs, a resounding finality in her voice, "Look, I have to go down for supper, but promise me you'll stay out if trouble, okay?"
"I'll try, " Maya sighs, "Call me if you ever need anything, alright? Even if you just want to talk, I'll be there, "
"I know, " Diana laughs, "Love you, "
"Love you too, " The line cuts off.
Maya exhales, sharply, tucking her phone back into the Barnes and Noble tote hanging off her shoulder. She folds her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling small and insignificant compared to the large expanse of the city around her. She sighs, leaning her head against the wall and closing her eyes.
Nothing's going to be the same anymore.
"A croissant for your thoughts?" Clary Fray's voice snaps Maya out of her self-pitying daze. She cracks open an eye to find the redhead standing next to her. The afternoon sunlight brings out the hints of gold in her hair and makes her pale skin shimmer with an ethereal glow. In one hand, she's holding one of Maya's favorite baked goods of all time — an almond & chocolate croissant from Pain, the modern French bakery near her house — and in the other, her usual Starbucks order, an iced matcha latte.
"Well this is certainly sweet, " Maya laughs, pleasantly surprised. She takes the croissant from the other girl's hand, biting in and immediately sighing in relief, the flakey, chocolatey, almond-liquor-infused goodness literally melting in her mouth. There's something about Pain's pastries that instantly brighten up your mood — her mother likes to joke that the chefs probably mix a smidge of cocaine into the butter. But even if they didn't, it wouldn't matter anyway — Maya supposes that croissants are a more socially acceptable addiction than snorting white powder up your nose, "What brought this on?"
"I saw that you were a little down after Maryse showed up, " Clary explains; there's a certain softness to her tone that Maya hasn't heard before — at least when the redhead interacts with her, "I felt bad about it, so I asked Izzy how to cheer you up, and she told me to 'just feed you', "
Maya snorts, nearly choking on her latte, "She's not wrong. Izzy tries to bribe me with food whenever I don't want to do something she likes, " A flicker of doubt crosses her mind, "You're not trying to do that ..... are you?"
An embarrassed flush breaks out on the redhead's creamy skin; Clary looks like she just got caught reaching into the cookie jar, "Well, not completely."
A flare of disappointment spikes in Maya's chest, mixed with the thinly veiled irritation that's been brewing the entire day. The matcha suddenly feels sickly sweet on her tongue. She turns to face Clary, the warmth slowly seeping from her tone, "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"Look, you're not going to like this, " Clary immediately switches to defense mode, her emerald eyes flashing in panic, "But just listen to me before you snap, alright?"
Maya exhales, slowly, through gritted teeth. A part of her is extremely annoyed with the girl in front of her, frustrated at not even being able to have a moment of peace without some new vision or development in the mess that's currently hanging over the Institute like a dark cloud. But a small, rational sliver of her mind urges her to listen, at least hear Clary out before giving her the worst lecture of her life. She sighs, bitterly, choosing the second option, "Go on, then."
Clary takes a deep breath, "I think I know a way we can still find Valentine, "
Maya's eyebrows raise in disbelief, "What?"
The redhead continues, her tone becoming more confident as she talks, "My mother hid a lot from me. She made sure that I never knew anything about the Shadow world — your world. But there was something she did that always made me wonder whether she was hiding something . . . . something big, "
"What are you talking about?" Maya's eyes grow wide with intrigue, her suspicious pretense completely fading away.
"There was a box that she opened every year, " Clary sighs; her eyes grow slightly unfocused, clearly trying to remember something from her murky past, "She didn't think I knew about it — but every January, I'd see her sitting on her bed, crying. Mom never let me see what was inside it, but she always said it was my father's. It even had his initials — 'J.C' — on top, "
"But that doesn't make any sense, " Maya interjects, "Those aren't Valentine's initials, "
"I know, " Clary exhales, slowly, looking off into the distance, "For 18 years, she told me his name was Jonathan Clark, that he was a soldier who died at war before I was born. Clearly, she lied. But whatever was in that box clearly meant a lot to her. Maybe there’s something inside that could help us track him down, "
"Where's the box now?" Maya questions.
"Still back at the loft," Clary answers, immediately.
"And I presume you want me to come along with you to retrieve it?"
"That's the idea, yeah, " Clary looks slightly sheepish at the incredulous expression on Maya's face, nervously fiddling with the hem of her sky-blue tank top; She starts talking again before Maya can reply, "Look, I know you think this is risky, and dangerous, and possibly slightly insane, considering that Alec and Isabelle's parents are back in town. But I didn't know who else to tell. You seem like someone I can trust, "
"Since when?" Maya arches a suspicious eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Since you started giving a shit about checking on me, " Clary rolls her eyes, "I know it sounds like I'm trying to flatter you on purpose, but believe me — I'm not lying about this. I trust you, Maya. You're reliable, forgiving, and honest, even if you come off as a little rude sometimes. And I hope that you can extend that privilege to me as well. So, what do you say? Want to go break into my apartment to hunt down my absent, horrible father?"
Maya sighs, rubbing her temples. This is beyond mental — she knows that very well. It is utterly foolish to go sleuthing around Brooklyn with Valentine's daughter while some of the most feared Shadowhunters in the world are right under the Institute's roof. But at the same time, this could be their only lead, a break in the case that could accelerate their path to apprehending Valentine. A chance for this nightmare to be over — to not be constantly tossing and turning at night, wondering whose dead body will end up at their doorstep next.
"Go get your Metro Card, " Maya finally says, feeling a small bit of pride in the triumphant grin that spreads across Clary's face, "We're going to Park Slope, "
"You'd think an Invisibility rune would give you the sense to silence your phone beforehand, " Maya mutters, rolling her eyes at the shrill tone blaring from deep inside Clary's bag. The two of them stand in front of the Brooklyn Academy of Art, a tall, garangutan structure made of white marble, radiating opulence and exclusivity as it towers over them in the gleaming afternoon sunlight.
"Simon!" The redhead immediately answers, ignoring Maya's surly remarks, "Hey. I know I should have called you right back. I’m really sorry. Are you okay?'
The mundane's voice is oddly raspy when he answers, as though he's stuck in bed with a sore throat, "You know that thing when you think you’re catching a cold, but you never actually get sick?"
"Yeah, yeah I totally get it, " She brushes him off faster that Nandini with cat hair stuck to her black pants, "Um, can we talk later? Things are kind of insane right now."
"Insane how?" Simon's voice quickly changes from sickly to concerned, "Are you okay?"
"I… I kind of killed a demon and lost all my memories forever. So…, "
"You killed a what?!" The mundane chokes on his shock, "Okay, Clary, where are you?"
"I’m at the Brooklyn Academy, " She answers, quickly, "I’m on my way to—"
"Stop telling him!!" Maya hisses, elbowing her harshly; Clary shoots her a withering glare, "The last thing we need is another person screwing things up again.
"I’m on my way to the loft, " Clary ignores her, her imputency making Maya groan aloud, "There’s something there that I think could help me find my mother."
"Are you crazy?!" Simon snaps, finally the voice of reason, "That’s way too dangerous. You think nobody’s watching that place?"
"I’m fine, " Clary sighs; She turns to the side, giving Maya a quick glance, "I’m with Maya, "
"And those words are supposed to make me feel better?" Sarcasm drips from Simon's voice as he answers, "Yeah, no. I’m coming to help."
"No!!" Clary yells, Maya quickly swatting her arm as a few passerby look their way; Her voice lowers to a menacing growl, "Simon, you’ve been through enough already — "
"So have you, " The tone of his voice is final; Simon gives them directions before hanging up, "Meet me at the old shortcut, "
Clary groans as the call declines, putting her head in her hands. Maya runs a stressed hand through her hair, sighing as her fingers tug at the drying onyx tendrils.
They've screwed themselves over, haven't they?
"Well, well, well . . . . " Clary freezes as Maya whirls around; Alec is glowering behind them, arms angrily crossed over his chest, "Interesting seeing you two out and about — after being specifically told not to go on any more unsactioned missions, "
Clary scoffs, giving him a scathing once-over 'Why do you always look so miserable?'
Alec rolls his eyes, jaw tensing in irritation, "I don't"
"You do, " Clary sighs; Her voice lowers, softening with sympathy, "It must be hard being in love with Jace when he’s straight and everything. "
Shock roots Maya to the spot, "Shut the fuck up." She hisses, glaring daggers at Clary.
Alec's face goes white, "E—excuse me? What?!"
"What’s the big deal?, " She scoffs, her tone lighthearted; Alec, on the other hand, looking as though he wants to sink into the ash concrete of the sidewalk and never emerge again, "I was there when that memory came out," Her mouth quirks in a teasing smirk, "Busted, no?"
The tall Lightwood looks scandalized, trying to compose his delicate features into an indifferent mask, "We’re parabatai."
"Alec, just say it, you’ll feel better, " Clary puts a gentle hand on his shoulder — her eyes are wide and soft, clearly trying to be accepting, "You’re in love with Jace."
He shakes her off, looking disgusted, "Forget it, " Alec's voice suddenly changes to a higher, childish pitch, pointing his finger accusingly at the redhead, "You know what? You’re in love with Jace."
"Oh, okay, middle school comebacks? Nice., " Clary scoffs, rolling her eyes, "Alec, we have a real problem to solve, okay? Come with us."
"Come with you?" Alec raises his eyebrows, tone incredulous, "The entire reason I followed you two out was to bring you back. What makes you think I'm going to join this wild goose chase?"
"Because we have a lead, " Maya interrupts the two of them before they can start bickering again, "A solid one, " She sighs, running an exasperated hand through her hair as she turns to Alec.
He scoffs, looking at her with betrayal, "You're on her side now?"
"I'm on the side that wants to see Valentine dead and gone before he can hurt anyone I love, alright?!" Maya exclaims, struggling to keep her voice even; He senses the frustration in her tone, easing away a bit, "And if that means I have to break protocol and run around New York like a headless chicken, so be it, " She sighs, squinting her eyes as the suns rays decide to shift and hit her directly in the face, "Look, Alec, no one's forcing you to join us, but I'd appreciate it if you tagged along and not leave us to fend for ourselves. It's in your best interest to be able to call backup in case something goes wrong, "
Alec groans, burying his face in his hands. He emits a long, deep groan, sighing and giving the two of them a long, withering glare. But after a few moments, he begrudgingly grumbles, "This better be quick "
Clary leads them through a narrow, winding alleyway, her small, lithe frame surprisingly managing to be a few paces ahead of them the whole time. By the time they reach the apartment, Maya has a stitch in her side, pausing to lean against the wall and wheeze after climbing up around four flights of stairs. Alec on the other hand, hasn't even broken a sweat, making her look hilariously unfit as he picks at a stray thread on his pants,
"Climbing a fire escape excites mundanes, "He mutters, glowering at a sweaty, exuberant Simon, "I’ll never understand these people."
Maya rolls her eyes at his petulance. Clary frowns at the brick on the opposite side, noticing pasteled runes and odd markings painted onto the wall, "I don’t remember it like this."
"They must've been cast by a warlock. A powerful one, " Maya mutters, glancing at the swirling, complicating patterns. Even from afar, she can feel the magic searing off of her skin, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. How did Clary not notice them before?
"Dot, " mutters the redhead, biting her lip.
"Some of these have been here for years, " Alec observes, his eyes tracing the rough, jagged edges of the markings.
"The only difference is now I can actually see them, " Clary concurs, folding her arms over her chest.
"What are those?" Simon mutters, as a flicker of doubt crosses the male Lightwood's face.
Alec looks astonished, "You can see the runes?"
"Yeah," Simon shrugs, gesturing towards the supposedly-invisible wall, "They're kind of hard to miss, "
"For a Shadowhunter. They should be invisible to most mundanes, " His eyes narrow, "When did you get the Sight?"
"I don’t know, " A hint of a smile appears on Simon's face, "But whoever drew these should take some lessons from Clary, " He nervously scratches the back of his head, the tips of his ears turning red, "Their, uh, work is pretty sloppy."
Clary reaches out, tracing a finger around a faded pink heart drawn around the words C.F + S.L.; Her face breaks into a soft smile, "This is from when Simon and I were engaged to be married."
"You were engaged?, " Alec scoffs, rolling his eyes, "I’m almost certain I don’t wanna hear this story—"
"We were eight years old, " Simon sighs, wistfully gazing off into the distance.
Clary's face suddenly falls at his words; it's clear that reminders of the past do nothing but pour salt into an already-burning wound, "That was a whole other world ago."
She busies herself by turning around, rattling the door handle in front of them in order to get it to unlock. But it soon becomes clear that her efforts are futile; the door refuses to budge.
Clary groans, her shoulder straining as she scrambles to get the door open, "There’s only one flaw in your plan here, Simon."
The brunet shrugs, his glasses slightly crooked as he steps in front of the redhead, 'Here, let me try." He yanks the door open, sending it flying off it's hinge and slamming into the wall with such a clatter that Maya lets out an involuntary yelp at the sound. She stumbles directly into Alec, who saves her from tripping off the fire escape by grabbing the end of her hoodie. He raises an amused eyebrow at her, but Maya just shakes him off, a part of her internally facepalming at the sheer amount of times she's managed to make a fool of herself in the past few hours.
Simon steps aside in a gentlemanly manner, "After you." He bows, dramatically, leaving Clary staring at the gaping, torn-open hole previously covered by an emerald-green door.
The redhead sighs, her hands clenched into tiny little fists at her sides. She lifts up a hand to brush some crimson strands away from her face, before finally breathing out a shaky, "Okay."
The four of them step through the doorway, Alec immediately coughing at the thick layer of dust that seems to have settled everywhere in the apartment. Maya sniffs, trying not to rub her watering eyes in fear of ruining her meticulously applied mascara from this morning. But it soon becomes clear that she doesn't need extra optical beautification to notice what can be seen right in front of her.
What was once a home has been reduced to nothing but a mere shell used for kindling. Black marks stretch up the walls, the charred, ashy remnants of drywall insulation sitting on the floor next to shards of broken lightbulbs and bright strips of torn canvas. A familiar pang hits Maya in the chest as she recognizes the Ikea furniture and shelves scattered throughout the room, now barbecued until only the wooden bones of the minimalistic sofa remain. The decor is very similar to that of her own loft back in Inwood, and Maya wonders, idly, if Nandini would have done the same thing had she been put in Jocelyn Fairchild's place, erasing her own existence with flames in order to stop the ones crackling around her daughter.
"Holy crap, Clary. " Simon's face is white with shock, "Who torched your loft?, " He scoffs, looking at Alec, clearly annoyed at the surprised look on the Shadowhunter's face, "Yeah, I can see this, too."
Clary walks over to the remnants of what looks like a coffee table. She swallows, picking up a worn photo frame that has a crack running directly across the glass. It's a black and white polaroid of a tall, vaguely handsome man in military uniform, and Maya quickly realizes that it must be of the Fairchild's father — or at least, the one created in Jocelyn's imagination.
"Hey, you okay?" Simon questions, noticing the redhead's fixation on the nostalgic object in her hand.
Clary's voice struggles not to crack as she whispers, not even daring to turn around and face her best friend, "There’s nothing left of me here."
"Of course there isn’t, " Alec interjects, matter-of-factly, "Your mother was trying to erase any trace that you existed. So that you couldn’t be tracked. She was protecting you."
The corner of the redhead's mouth turns up in dark amusement, "Let’s see how well that worked."
Alec frowns, clearly not understanding the tone at hand, "You’re alive aren’t you?"
An ominous creak resounds from the floorboards, breaking the silence in the room and making Maya jump once more. Simon stops directly in his tracks, a confused expression on his face. He carefully puts his foot down again, the same thump resounding from the ground once more.
"What the hell are you doing?" Clary questions, defensively, turning around.
Simon crouches to the floor in concentration, "These floorboards… they sound different in these two spots. Can’t you hear it?, " His hand presses down where his foot used to be, feeling around for the edge of the floorboard, "There’s something under here., " At his words, the plank comes clean off in his hands, leaving a hollow space in the ground where dark wood used to be. He smiles, triumphantly, "Another score for Brooklyn."
Alec pushes him aside brusquely, crouching down and sticking his arm inside the newly-opened cavern, "Out of the way."
Simon gets to his feet, an offended expression on his face as he glowers at the lanky Shadowhunter, "You’re welcome."
Alec's hands catch onto something solid. A flicker of pride passes his impassive face before he pulls out an ornate, worn-down chest, looking as though it's been hidden away for years, "Is this the box you remember?"
Clary's face lights up like never before, "Yes! She used to wait till she thought I was asleep and then take it out."
She pries open the box, fingers fumbling with the latch as her hands shake with anticipation. Inside lies one of the strangest collection of objects Maya has ever seen. A golden lock of hair sealed in a glass vial, an ornate ring with a sparkling azure gemstone fixed on one end and strangest of all, a burnt piece of crushed velvet, looking as though it's been torn from an expensive piece of upholstery.
Clary's expression is crestfallen, voice cracking as she holds up the singed piece of cloth, "I don’t know what any of this is."
The violent sound of breaking glass smashes throughout the apartment, the powerful vibrations making terror revebrate through Maya's bones. She screams, dropping the contents of her purse and leaving them to scatter across the charred apartment floor. Rough voices sound from outside as Alec yanks an arrow from his quiver, hooking it onto his bow as he gives the three of them a tense look.
"There’s someone here, " His voice hardens, "Get what you need. Do not move until I get back. We’ve been here too long."
Simon and Clary disappear the moment Maya turns her back to scoop up the spilled contents of her purse.
No, actually, they don't just disappear. Once again, the two idiots wandered off and managed to get themselves into an even worse shit-show than before — kidnapping. Maya had registered the sound of a car door slamming in vain, her feet racing to the balcony only to watch the black van speed away as Alec lowered his bow. The two of them had shared a horrified look before deciding that it was time to give up their pride and call for backup.
Maya really hopes that the Clave doesn't murder her for what she's about to do — if they even get back to the Institute in the first place, that is.
The four of them pace around in the neighboring alley, Jace's eyes brimming with frustration as he pulls down his sleeve, "Whoever took Clary and Simon must be holding them over a body of water. That’s why our Tracking rune won’t work."
"A-mazing, " Maya scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest. There's no way Maryse is going to forgive them for losing Valentine's daughter and her bespectacled lackey.
Suddenly, a vibrating sound ensues from the grey satchel in Isabelle's hand. The dark-haired beauty frowns, pulling out, to Maya's surprise and relief, the redhead's mobile, "Clary left her phone in her backpack."
As Maya secretly thanks the universe for throwing them yet another clue to follow, Jace grabs the device out of his sister's hands. Isabelle scoffs, but her disdain is brushed aside as he picks up the call, putting it on speaker so all of them can hear, "Hello?"
"Oh, I thought I’d never utter these words, but thank God it’s you!" Simon's hysterical voice blares at them through Clary's tinny speakers. "It’s me, Simon." He adds, as though his terrified tone isn't enough of an indicator.
"Where are you?!" Jace immediately interrogates, "Where’s Clary?"
"I don’t know., " Simon's voice is breathy and nervous as he stammers, "Some Chinese restaurant, I think? This cop Alaric arrested us, but it was a total fake-out. Him and his buddy, they took us… They took us to their hangout and then they told Clary that they’ll kill her if they don’t find the Cup, "
"Just calm down, all right?, " The blonde insists, "Tell us what you see."
"Okay, " Simon pauses, his breathing heavy as the sound of his shuffling echoes through the speakers, "Uh, we’re definitely on a pier. There’s a ton of water. Uh… I see lockers and… oh my God . . ., " He pauses for a second, a horrified silence hanging in the air, "I’m in some sort of torture chamber. There’s claw marks all over the wall."
Alaric . . . . Chinese restaurant . . . . claw marks . . . . the cup . . . they all suddenly interlock to form the bigger picture in Maya's head. There's only one group that would have the guts to pull something like this off.
"Werewolves" Her and Izzy blurt out simultaneously.
Alec nods his head, following the same train of thought as them, "That’s possible."
Jace sighs, "Okay, Simon, you need to get more specific. Tell us what you see. Help us find you."
Simon groans, "There’s nothing else that can help — wait!" His voice catches as the sound of rustling paper echoes in his periphery, "I’m at the Jade Wolf Chinese Restaurant on the pier at Greene street!" Simon's voice trails off in surprise for a second, "And they have really inexpensive cocktails, damn . . . "
"Simon! Focus!" Maya snaps, as Isabelle snickers under her breath.
Alec's eyes light up with an idea, "You need to create a diversion. Stall them!"
"How?!" The brunet scoffs, "All I have are clothes and a lighter."
"Start a fire, you idiot!" Jace scowls at the other end of the line, clearly frustrated at the mundane's reluctance to think for himself.
"That never works!" Simon protests, grumbling, "Have you ever seen an action movie?"
"We're on our way, " Jace sighs, before cutting the call short.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Maya mutters, as Isabelle flicks her wrist. Shuffling noises echo from the other side of the brick, the other girl's whip wrapping around the metal bars of a nearby air vent.
"Of course it will, " The tall Shadowhunter replies, dismissively, "When's Gladys ever failed me?"
"I still can't believe that's what you named your whip, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"You're one to talk, " Isabelle scoffs, "Who names their cat Chairman Meow?"
Maya immediately becomes defensive, "Don't insult him like that! I'll have you know that Church is a very distinguished gentleman when he wants to be,"
Isabelle rolls her eyes, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, "Whatever you say, ". The whip glows as she yanks, hard, the vent falling away and taking a portion of the wall with it. Simon gapes at them in awe from the crack, stumbling through the opening as he runs out to face them.
Isabelle sighs, snorting as she catches sight of him, "I’m getting seriously tired of saving your life."
"I am not!" Simon breathes at her in reverence, eyes not failing to shimmy down the sensuous curves of her lithe body.
Isabelle gives him a catlike grin before the sound of breaking glass fills Maya's hearing from the front of the restaurant. The two of them immediately lock eyes. Clary.
"And that's our cue to run, " Maya breathes out, heart sprinting in her chest.
The three of them make a break for it, sprinting past the docks and skidding to a halt at the entrance. Alec's dark hair glistens in the neon lighting from the storefront as he helps an unharmed Clary to her feet, Jace not taking his eyes off her as he extracts his seraph blade from it's holster.
"Simon!" The redhead leaps from Alec's grasp as she wraps Simon's taller body in a tight hug, "Oh my god, you're safe!"
The brunet pulls back, quickly inspecting Clary's face for any injuries or bruises, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, " Clary brushes him off, gazing at him with something akin to the way you would look at a dear sibling, "I was so worried about you . . . . "
"I hate to break up this little reunion," Jace interrupts, looking a little resentful of Simon, "but we got a bunch of werewolves trying to kill us so maybe we should get going—"
"Wait, wait, the box. My backpack!" Clary exclaims, eyes widening in horror, "I think I left it at the loft!"
"No, we’ve got it, " Alec corrects her, a hint of a smirk appearing on his face, "I didn’t screw up everything."
"Let’s get outta here, then, " Simon sighs, stepping forwards.
Maya's blood runs cold as a sudden growling noise pierces the silence around them. Isabelle grabs the other boy's arm in warning, "Wait, Simon! Whatever you do, do not make any sudden moves."
One by one, huge, hulking wolves of all shapes and colors start to step out of the shadows, their teeth bared as their yellow eyes gleam predatorily at them. Maya shivers at the drool oozing from their lips. She shakily reaches for her knives, Izzy and Jace doing the same for their weapons as Simon and Clary shuffle closer to them, trembling in fear.
"We’re surrounded." Alec exhales, voice struggling to stay even, "Everyone, stay together."
"Believe me, I’m not going anywhere, " Simon whimpers, "I'd rather not get turned into shish-kabob for dinner"
The door of the restaurant flies open as yet another wolf walks out. This one is the biggest in size, huge in muscle and boasting a fluffy white coat. It's eyes are curious rather than outright malicious, but it's growl immediately turns menacing as it spots the three Shadowhunters huddled in the center.
"Everyone get back!" Jace exclaims, as the wolf starts toward them. Clary tries to run in front of him, but Jace pulls her back just in time. Alec yanks Maya behind him as Isabelle catches grabs her hand, interlacing their fingers as she cracks her whip. Maya grabs a knife from her belt, hands shaking as she tries to steel herself for the bloody battle ahead.
It's now or never.
Suddenly, a sleek, black wolf attacks the leader, sinking long, sharp fangs into the white wolf's neck. The latter roars, immediately pouncing on the black wolf, and the two soon turn into a blur of muscle, fangs and teeth that Maya can barely bring herself to watch.
"He’s challenging the alpha, " Alec breathes out in shock.
"He’s helping us!" Clary exclaims, hopefully.
"Or just cutting in line to kill us, " Simon whimpers, ever the pessimist.
Just as soon as it started, the fight nips itself in the bud. The white wolf lays in a bloody heap on the ground, fur and bones cracking as it transforms into a large, lifeless man, green eyes lifeless as he sprawls out on the concrete, never to rise again. The black wolf shoots up in height, shapeshifting into a tall, African-american man with silver eyes and claw marks covering most of his body.
"Oh my god . . . . " Clary breathes out in mingled shock and recognition, "Luke, "
The other wolves around them start howling, shifting back into their human form as they kneel in acceptance of their new leader. Luke merely looks resigned, the blood pooling around his wounds and staining his already-ripped shirt.
"What is it? What’s happening?!" Clary demands, in confusion.
"When a werewolf kills the alpha leader, he becomes the new alpha, " Jace mutters, quietly, "Your friend Luke’s the leader of the pack now."
"Clary…" The man breathes out, hoarsely, shaking hands reaching for the redhead. She immediately reaches toward him in benevolence, but Jace holds her back, arms wrapping around her waist to pull her away.
"No, " snaps the blonde, firmly.
"Jace, it's okay!" Clary tries to reason with him.
"I promised your mother I'd always protect you, " Luke sighs, hoarsely. His eyes roll back in his head, body swaying dangerously before crumpling to the ground in a bloody, scarred heap.
"Luke!, " Clary screams, running toward him, "Oh, my God!"
"Hey!, " Alec snaps his fingers in front of Jace's face, "We need to get Clary back to the Institute and stay out of Downworlder business. This isn't good for us, Jace—"
"Why don’t you stay out of it?, " The blonde snaps, irritated, "I’m gonna help Clary."
Alec's tone is pleading, "We have to report back to our mother."
Jace's tone is dismissive as he turns away to focus his attention on Clary, "You and Isabelle can do that."
"Oh, fuck you!" Isabelle spits out, her tone laced with venom. Maya squeezes her hand, but she flinches away, leaving a pit of undeserved guilt inside the warlock's heart.
"Luke . . . . " Simon breathes out, looking as though he's going to faint himself. Maya grabs his arm to steady him, the brunet leaning into her as she struggles to support his weight, "So much blood . . . . "
"His wounds are deep, " Jace mutters, kneeling on the ground beside Luke's body, "Only a warlock’s magic can cure an alpha’s bite, " His eyes flit to her, "Maya?"
"I can't, " She breathes out. Her blood feels like ice in her veins, heart beating too slow for the sheer speed of the situation escalating around her, "My magic isn't stable enough and I don't even know the proper spells — "
"We have to get him to Magnus, " Clary pleads, tears shimmering in her emerald eyes.
Jace places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "Hey, that’s exactly what we’re gonna do."
"Clary, we have to go . . . . " Maya breathes out, shakily. Her voice doesn't sound like herself, coming out fragmented and wheezy, but it's the best she can do for now, "We need to get him to his car or somewhere safe . . . . "
Together, the three of them struggle to get Luke up to his feet, Jace taking the brunt of the older man's weight as he's the least injured out of all of them. Maya's sore muscles and bruises scream at her as she walks, but she forces herself to bear the pain, gritting her teeth as the sting evaporates through her body.
"No, no — " Clary panics as Luke's eyes close once more, grabbing his face in her hands as she pleads with him, "Luke, stay with me, please.We’re getting you help, okay? Just, please, don’t leave me again. "
Her voice cracks on the last word, "I can’t have anyone else die because of me."
so um . . . . hi, i guess? it's been a minute since i've written on here, and i honestly wasn't expecting to write today, but surprise update go brr i guess. sorry if this chapter is disjointed, it's been sitting in here for a few months and i haven't proofread it all the way. this might be my last update before exams, it might not . . . . . we'll see how life goes. i'm dealing with a lot in my life right now so i would appreciate if you guys could be a little bit extra considerate <3
xoxo, disha
Chapter 50: Chapter 50
Chapter Text
July 2016
DRACO MALFOY IS CAPABLE OF MANY THINGS, but Diana never thought that kidnapping his own sister would be one of them.
The sky outside has faded from the pale pink of sunset to the inky black of night, dotted with stars that glitter like diamonds in the countryside his car is currently speeding through. Or rather - their car - that she was conveniently thrown in two hours ago, along with her entire wardrobe stuffed into a suitcase that Draco has haphazardly thrown in the trunk, with no explanation as to where they were going or how he managed to "borrow", in his haughty words, a car to get there.
Diana's surprised they haven't crashed yet with the speed at which her brother is driving.
"Y'know, this could be classified as a crime in most countries, " Diana muses, casually looking out the window, "Packing my things, dragging me into this car, taking me to an unknown second location, the law - dear brother - defines this as kidnapping, "
"I am not kidnapping you, " Draco rolls his eyes, grip tightening on the steering wheel, "I am simply relocating you somewhere safe, where you're much less likely to be murdered if you get into trouble, "
"You better be driving me across the sea then, " Diana scoffs, "I doubt that definition applies to anywhere in England as of late, "
"I considered it, " He replies, briefly meeting her eyes, "But then I realized that Mum would probably throw a fit if I chucked you all the way to your best friend's house, so this is the backup plan, "
"My best friend?" Diana laughs, amused at her brother's determination to evade the topic of his fascination with Maya Rajesh, "Is that all she is to you?"
"Is she supposed to be more?" Draco replies, blandly. Diana sees his jaw tighten as he looks out the window.
"You don't usually steal your sister's phone in the middle of the night to have a heart-to-heart with her best friend, if that's how removed she is to you, " Diana snorts, noticing the way pink blooms at the tops of his cheekbones as Draco refuses eye contact, "You told her, right?"
"More like she kissed me before running off to fight the very battle that put our father in prison, " He mutters, darkly.
Diana's heart drops into her stomach, "Don't you dare blame her for what happened, "
"I'm not, " He glances at her, briefly, before turning back to the road, "I know that she had nothing to do with it. But given our . . . . . circumstances . . . . I don't think it's wise to take this any further, "
"You've never been this practical before, " Diana muses, "What happened to the Draco who insisted on cuddling with his toy broom every night because he insisted that it would give him the power to fly like a dragon?"
Her brother's ears turn red, "Shut up, "
"I'm just saying, she clearly makes you happy, " Diana sighs, "Merlin knows you could use some of that in your life right now, "
"I'd rather keep Maya out of this than keep myself happy, " Draco swallows, avoiding her eyes.
"You're going to have to tell her someday, y'know, " Diana brushes her hand lightly over his left arm, "About what happened this summer. It'll be ugly if she finds out herself, "
"It's not the right time, " Draco gently pushes her hand away, "Besides, she's clearly dealing with her own issues right now. I don't want to add to everything by divulging the fact that I'm now a future murderer. Current, if you keep pushing me like you are right now,"
"Since when are you this considerate?" Diana snickers, "God, she's really got you whipped for her, hasn't she?"
"If you bring this up one more time - " Draco groans, through clenched teeth.
"Alright, alright!" Diana holds her hands up in surrender, "Good grief, you're so dramatic, "
"I'm also quite hungry, " Draco sighs, as they pull into the parking lot of a dilapidated Sainsbury's, "Get out, you dolt. We're stopping for food, "
Half an hour later, after Draco has wolfed down a suspicious-looking sandwich and Diana's convinced him to get her an inhumane amount of sweets for the remainder of the trip, they're on the road yet again. Diana's heart flutters as she recognizes the familiar village of Ottery St Catchpole, the cylindrical, chess-like shape of a familiar house rising up from the distance, plainly visible even with the dark night around them. She whirls around to face her brother, a telltale swarm of butterflies roaring up her chest, "Are you dropping me off at Luna's?"
"Finally, the great detective has connected the dots!" Draco proclaims, dramatically, "Whatever shall I do now?! My nefarious plans can no longer proceed!"
Diana just laughs, but a feeling of dread slowly takes over her, "You're not - you're not leaving me there for the rest of the summer . . . . right?" Her heart stops when he avoids her eyes, "Draco?"
"It's for your own good, Diana, " He simply replies, turning off the engine as the car pulls up next to the gate. Diana can see the outline of Luna's slender frame foraging in the garden, her curls wild and riotous as she turns around to wave toward them.
"For my own good?!" Diana turns to him, voice incredulous, "What part of leaving you and mum almost 3 hours away is for my own good??"
"The part where you don't have Fenrir Greyback leering across your dining table??" Draco's eyes darken with anger momentarily, "Where you're a safe distance away from some of the most dangerous dark wizards in England??"
"I am not going to leave you two in that house to fend for yourselves-"
"We'll survive, Diana, " Draco rolls his eyes too casually for his sister's liking, "But you can't stay there. Not when the people who tried to kill you and your friends three months ago are under the same roof, "
"And what about you, hm?" Diana demands, tears starting to fill her eyes, "You get to be the sacrificial lamb while I get shipped off to the middle of nowhere? How is that fair?"
"It's not, " Draco sighs, "But it's the right thing to do, " He places a hand on her shoulder, "Look . . . you've been through a lot in the past two years. Father being in Azkaban has been awful on all of us, but it's been especially hard on you. I'm not saying you're not strong, Diana . . . but you deserve better than to be stuck somewhere that's sucking the soul out of you. Besides, " He nudges vaguely in Luna's direction, "Lovegood keeps you out of trouble. She's strange, but don't act like being stuck with her for the rest of the summer would be torture, "
"It wouldn't, " Diana sighs, agreeing with him, "But leaving you there with that monster and his minions would never let me sleep at night, "
"Ask your girlfriend to read you bedtime stories then, " He smirks.
Diana's face becomes the color of a tomato, "Shut up!"
Draco laughs, a tired, soft laugh, and for the first time, Diana sees how exhausted he looks. His hair is as ruffled as she's ever seen it, and the dark circles under his eyes make it look like he hasn't slept in days. But in a strange way, the sight of him comforts her. Despite her rocky relationship with her parents, he's always been there for her whenever she needed him. The one constant in a sea of unknowns. And Diana knows, somehow, despite whatever's in store for them, that they'll be okay.
Her brother smiles, a real, genuine smile for the first time in forever, "Go hug her, Diana. God knows you deserve it, after everything you've been put through, "
As she watches the Porsche speed away, with her bags in hand and trepidation in her heart, Diana hopes that he realizes it too.
Of all the things Maya thought she would be doing this summer, witnessing the rebirth of New York's biggest werewolf pack wasn't one of them.
Luke (or more accurately, Lucian Graymark) lies unconscious on the living room sofa, the blood from his wounds soaking the emerald-green suede. The bandages wrapped around his chest and torso have a medicinal scent, the sharp smell of powdered silver and asphodel root underneath slowing the absorption of werewolf venom that decorates the bites all over the tall man's body. Clary keeps vigil by his bedside, sitting wide awake by his side even as the dark circles under her eyes scream exhaustion. Her crimson hair is a tangled mess around her face, skin still streaked with dried blood from the earlier altercation at the pier. Church has taken up watch by her feet, purring and rubbing against her legs in an attempt to calm her down. The look in her eyes is haunted, paralyzed with guilt and fear at putting her loved ones in danger. Scared of the unknown territory that lies ahead, of the threads of uncertainty that weave the web of a future she never asked for.
It's terrifying how much of herself she recognizes in the redheaded girl.
"I know that look, " Magnus interjects, warily handing her two mugs. One is filled to the brim with steaming coffee, the comforting smell reminding Maya of early mornings with Nandini before work. The other has a blue, thin concoction swirling around inside that emanates the scent of peppermint, and Maya realizes that it's a calming agent. He hands Maya the first mug, squinting his eyes at her when she takes a sip, the sweet, milky liquid warming her insides in a way that feels like home.
"What look?" Maya questions, watching the white foam gather at the top of her mug.
"That expression you always have on your face when you're trying to figure someone out, " Magnus replies, nonchalantly taking a sip from his glass of whiskey.
"You're saying that like I spend all my time psychoanalyzing people, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"You don't," Magnus has a thoughtful expression on his face, "But you do try to empathize with them."
"I don't know . . . . " Maya sighs, glancing at Clary out of the corner of her eye. Church has climbed into her lap, purring happily as she gingerly strokes his fur. A soft smile lifts at the corner of the redhead's mouth, her black-painted nails scratching behind the feline's ears. For a split second, she looks genuinely happy, but her smile falls as she glances at the unconscious werewolf on the couch, "I feel bad for her, Magnus. She never asked for any of this. Maryse is back at the Institute and I know that they're going to try and pin this entire disaster on her,"
"There's no point dwelling over what could possibly happen, " Magnus reminds her, softly, "You can't control whatever Maryse Lightwood decides to impose, but you can try and be there for Clary while Lucian heals.,"
"I'm the last person she'd want to comfort her, " Maya scoffs, as she finishes her mug of coffee, "Simon would be better way better at this,"
"Simon is currently trying not to puke all over my Turkish carpet, " Magnus scoffs, eyes flitting to the poor mundane boy leaning heavily against the wall, who looks green enough to rival Shrek, "I swear, if he gets Shake Shack all over the velvet-"
"He won't, " Maya rolls her eyes as Simon warily glances at Magnus, "He's terrified of you. Of our world, " Her chest clenches as she remembers the bloody altercation earlier, the crimson liquid coating the street as the other werewolf's fangs savagely bit into Luke's neck, "What he saw today will scar him for life"
"Which is why he'll be the worst choice to talk some sense into Clary, " Magnus gives her a little push, edging her towards the redhead, "You're a lot more composed. You know how to handle yourself in situations like these. Go, Maya. You'll regret it if you don't, "
Maya opens her mouth to say how wrong he is. That she's terrified of what's going to happen to her and her friends. That she's starting to resent them for pushing her into this in the first place. That she has no idea what she's doing and how or when they're going to get out of this clusterfuck. That trying to comfort someone else when she feels like she's falling apart is the ultimate display of hypocrisy.
But then she glances at Clary with her head in her hands, shoulders slumped in painful defeat. The set of her posture is angry, confused and sad all at once, defeated in the most heartbreaking way. It's as if all hope of victory has completely evaporated from the redhead's body, reduced to a shoddy shell of her once bright, optimistic self. So Maya takes the mugs, trudges over to the armchair and haphazardly shoves the one with the draught into the redhead's face.
"Here," She taps Clary's shoulder, the smaller girl blinking awake, "Drink this. It'll calm you down,"
Clary stares at the aquamarine concoction suspiciously, "Do you really think drinking smurf vomit is going to make the sense of impending doom hanging over my head any less terrifying?"
"Just drink the fucking potion, Fray, " Maya rolls her eyes.
Clary reluctantly takes the mug from her, grimacing at the first taste, "As I expected, absolutely revolting, "
"Be glad I didn't poison it, " Maya mutters.
"And here I thought you finally had a soft spot for me, " The redhead smirks, "Turning the tables already?"
"Being around you makes me that way, " Maya snorts. Her tone softens as she notices the bruised circles under Clary's eyes, "How are you after. . . . you know?"
The set of the other girl's face changes, her amusement fading into resigned sadness. She breaks eye contact, instead choosing to examine the swirling embroidery on the carpet between them, "Was the impending sense of doom monologue not enough for you?"
"Deflecting with humour. What a surprise, " Maya tentatively extends her hand, trying to do some version of comfortingly stroking Clary's hair, but what actually happens is a series of awkward head pats that make the redhead look up at her with a mixture of confusion and disgust.
"Can you not pet me like I'm an angry chihuahua?" Clary scoffs.
"I was trying to comfort you, idiot!"
"Yeah, as much as I enjoy your stellar abilities, please stop. It's painful to see you try so hard, "
"Well, what else do you expect me to do?!" Maya throws her hands in the air, frustrated beyond belief, "Feed you a Xanax and tell you it's all going to be okay?"
"I don't know, " Clary sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. She looks utterly exhausted and for the millionth time today, Maya feels an impending sense of deja vu, as though she's staring at herself from two years ago.
Maya groans, dragging a chair as she sits down next to her, "Look, I'm not going to sugarcoat this for you and say that it's all going to be rainbows and sunshine from now on. You know what this world - our world, looks like. Like it or not, you're going to be in situations like these time and time again, and it's going to hurt like a bitch every single instance, "
"You are atrocious at this-"
"Shut up, " Maya rolls her eyes, "What I'm saying is, you have two choices. You can constantly panic about what's going to happen next and set yourself up for failure, or, you can accept the bad along with the good and fight for the light you deserve. Neither choice is easy, and it's okay to be scared. But it's up to you which one you make. There's no right or wrong answer."
"And pray tell, my lady, " Clary's voice is dripping with sarcasm, "What choice did you make?
Maya sighs, trepidation creeping into her stomach, "I don't know. I think I made up my own, to be honest. I probably made the wrong one, considering that I'm stuck here of all places, "
"You just told me there was no right or wrong answer, "
"Yeah, well, things change when a redheaded menace turns your life upside down, " Maya quips, dryly, as Clary snorts, "Am I the master of pep talks now, Fray?"
"You're alright, " Clary rolls her eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on her mouth
"Jocelyn! Jocelyn!!"
Maya jolts awake at the werewolf's voice, bolting upright from her position of being slumped on the kitchen table. It's around 2 in the morning, according to her phone, the stars twinkling like diamonds sewn into satin outside. Clary's already at Luke's side, pressing her small hand to his cheeks and forehead and trying to hold his muscular, thrashing figure down onto the couch.
"Luke!!" She exclaims, desperately, "It’s Clary. Can you hear me?"
Luke's eyes flit open; He grabs Clary's face, hands cupping her cheeks as if she's going to disappear any minute, "Listen to me, you have to listen to me, " His voice is hoarse and wheezy, but Maya picks up on the desperation in his tone, "I have to tell you, just in case— "
Clary's eyes fill with tears at his implication, "No, don’t even say it, don’t—"
The werewolf still insists, "No, listen to me-"
Magnus runs into the room in his turquoise dressing gown, hair sticking out in all directions and hands full of potions, "Was he bitten by an alpha?"
"Yeah, why?" Simon looks at him with trepidation from across the table, wrapped in blankets that make him look like a human burrito.
"Oh fuck, " Magnus's eyes widen in realization, "Three, two, one-"
"Magnus, what are you-" Maya starts, but her words are drowned out by Clary's scream. She's flung across the room, tripping and stumbling over the carpet as Luke's body starts to thrash once more, a guttural growl leaving his lips. His veins start to bulge out against his dark skin, eyes glowing a terrifying amber as Simon backs away from the table.
"Lucian-" Magnus gulps, slowly setting down the potions on a nearby table. His hands are outstretched in front of him in a peace offering, "Remember yourself-"
"Oh my god, " Clary whimpers, cowering.
Maya's heart stops. Luke yells, jumping from the couch as he lunges for Clary, his eyes feral and claws sharp. Simon screams, grabbing a nearby vase to throw at him, but it misses Luke and crashes straight into a wall. Clary screams and ducks as the burly werewolf's claws narrowly miss her face, leaving scratch marks on Magnus's imported wallpaper. The warlock grabs a silver knife, sharpening it with a spell, but it's too late. Luke throws himself at the redhead with a terrifying growl, Clary rooted to the spot with a mixture of shock and fear.
"Stupefy!" Maya screams, lunging towards the werewolf. The powerful jet of red light sears her fingertips as it leaves her hand, hitting Luke straight in the chest as his sharp crawls start to graze the redhead's arms. His eyes roll back in his head as he slumps forward, Clary struggling to hold up his weight as he falls to the ground.
"A single stunner, " Magnus mutters, looking at Maya with an impressed expression, "Not bad, "
"Yeah . . . well, good thing I thought of it in time, " Maya sighs, rubbing her arms; Her heart still beats wildly in her chest and she slumps against the couch, "What was that, even?"
"Random werewolf transformation, " Magnus explains, running a hand through his hair, "It’s a side effect of the poison in the alpha bite. Buckle up, folks, " He sighs, "We've got a long night ahead of us, "
"I get a good vibe from this Magnus Bane guy, " Simon remarks later, once Luke has been bandaged and sedated, "He seems like he knows what he’s doing, "
"He is the High Warlock of Brooklyn for a reason, " Maya sighs, face in the palm of her hand as they sit at the kitchen table, "What's the deal with Luke anyway?"
"Family friend, " Simon shrugs, "Him and Clary's mom go way back. He's like Clary's father - if Valentine was a cop and generally less murdery and evil, "
"Why was she mad at him before?"
"After Pandemonium, Clary's mom portalled her to Luke's precinct, " Simon sighs, running a hand through his hair, "Apparently she saw him negotiating with Circle Members for the Mortal Cup. Said he didn't care about her or her mom and only stuck around because he wanted to get his hands on the Cup. She ran, ended up back home, got attacked by one of Valentine's monsters and well . . . . now we're all sitting in a warlock's living room while a sedated werewolf could attack us any minute, "
"Just a typical weekday, " Maya rolls her eyes, "But he only stuck around for the cup? I'm not exactly the most patient person, but spending decades of your life undercover while searching for a glorified goblet? Sounds like a thin argument to me, "
"I don't know, " Simon furrows his brows in thought, "Luke's a pretty . . . . stoic . . . . guy. I didn't really know much about him besides his occupation and the fact that he was practically in love with Jocelyn. Maybe it was all a front, "
"Maybe, " Maya's eyes flit to Clary, who's sat by Magnus stirring a steaming cauldron, a forlorn expression on her face as she glances at Luke, "Clary really cares about him, though, "
"Oh, so you're on first-name basis now?" Simon snorts, "What happened to wanting to murder each other a few days ago?"
"Eh, she's still on thin ice, " Clary remarks, joining them at the table. Her expression turns grave, "So . . . we have good news and bad news, "
"What's the good news?" Simon pipes up, eagerly.
Magnus walks up behind her, wiping the sweat from his brow, "The bark will stop the transformation for now, "
"And the bad news?" Maya quips
Magnus sighs, frustrated, "Luke needs an antidote to stop the poison in his system. And I don’t have all the ingredients here."
"What do you need?" Maya questions, "I could take Line 5 and pick up some stuff at Martin's Apothecary, "
"No, you should stay here, " Magnus sighs, "I'm not going to across New York this late. Luke will need Clary if he wakes up, and you need to stun him in case he attacks her again"
"When he wakes up, " Clary sighs.
"I’ll go, " Jace's voice sounds from the door. He steps inside, looking the most disheveled Maya's ever seen him - there's a huge cut across his cheekbone and his hair looks like it's been attacked by a hurricane.
"What happened to you?" Magnus questions, raising an eyebrow at the blood on the Shadowhunter's face.
"Luke’s car may have found its way onto a pole when I was stashing it, " Jace scratches the back of his neck, awkwardly looking away from all of them , "I don’t do mundane driving, " He grabs a nearby tissue, wiping off the blood, "What do you need for the antidote?"
"Phoenix eyes, moon salt, and Idris fulgurite, " Magnus lists out the ingredients on his fingers.
"I can come with, " Simon adds, "To make sure he doesn't . . . . y'know . . . . die. It's one trip to the pharmacy. That'll take like what, two seconds?"
"I know a guy, " Jace rolls his eyes at Simon, "And I don’t need him. I'm fine on my own, "
"Too bad, " Simon smiles, getting up and pushing his chair in, "You’re getting me. We’ll be right back, "
"As long as you two don't kill each other, go ahead, " Magnus lifts up a finger, "One more thing. I need Alexander, "
Jace's brows furrow, "Why do you need Alec?"
"Uh, virgin Shadowhunter energy, " Magnus gestures, a hint of a blush on his cheekbones, "It makes the brewing go by faster, "
"That explains so much," Simon mutters under his breath
"Yeah . . . I can't do Alec, " Jace sighs, looking tired.
"Just ask, please, " Clary gives him a pointed look, "You guys need to talk, "
"Trouble in paradise?" Magnus questions, before Maya can ask what's going on.
"I can't deal with this right now, " Jace groans, grabbing Simon, "Piss me off and I'll vaporize you, Mundane, "
"Point taken, " Simon rolls his eyes as they walk out the door, "Someone's having mood swings today, "
"Just shut up, " Jace snaps, slamming the door behind him.
"I never thought I could eat noodles for breakfast, " Clary moans, softly, taking another bite of khao suey, "But after this, I don't think I can go back, "
"Better than pancakes, " Maya agrees, slurping up the crispy noodles in the rich coconut milk broth. Burmese cuisine can be pretty hard to find in New York, but Magnus's reluctance to cook caused him to phone in a hole-in-the-wall place nearby. The flavor is rich and ubiquitous, the garlic and ginger cutting through the fattiness and reminding Maya of the occasional Indo-Chinese stir fries Nandini sometimes throw together at home. Of course, her mother would never dare serve Gobi Manchurian for breakfast, but it's still nice to have a piece of home while the aforementioned woman is fighting her own battles almost five thousand miles away.
"The British don't know what they're missing, " Magnus sighs, looking almost lovingly at his own bowl of noodles, "You think their ancestors would perish if they consumed just a smidge of ginger?"
"Indians could've just killed them with green chilies instead of fighting for independence, " Maya shrugs, "It would've ended colonization a lot sooner, "
"I have no idea what you're talking about, but I need to know where you ordered this, Magnus, " Clary slurps up the final dregs of her noodles, "I might just move into the restaurant, "
"Oh, you sweet summer child, " Maya snorts, looking at Clary's bemused expression, "I have to take you to Queens someday, "
Just then, Luke's voice sounds from the couch, "Jocelyn! No, don’t… don’t… Wait, don’t touch her, "
Clary runs to the werewolf before Maya can stop her, "Luke, I’m here! I’m here." The werewolf's eyes fly open, but they're no longer amber and have some semblance of lucidity in them.
Magnus runs to him, a bottle of clear liquid in his hands, "Hold still, Lucian. Let me take your pain away, "
Luke waves him off, groaning as he struggles to sit up, "No. No, I need to be awake for this. I need to tell Clary the truth."
"You're digging your own grave, " Magnus sighs, "Agitation only makes the venom work faster."
"Luke, please, " Clary pleads with him, "Save your strength, "
The werewolf insists, "No, you need to know. No, Clary listen-"
"Maya, please, " Clary sighs, closing her eyes.
"You need to tell her, all of it, " Luke whirls around to face Magnus, "Promise me."
"I will, " Magnus holds one of his hands, unclear whether the gesture is out of restraint or compassion, "Just not right now, "
"Stupefy" Once more, Maya's stunner immobilizes Luke, his eyes shutting as he falls back onto the bed in a weak, unconscious heap, a shell of the proud cop he must have once been.
Magnus's expression is grim, "The poison is spreading. Your suitors need to hurry, "
"There's a few things I need to explain to you, " Magnus sighs, summoning a sketchbook and tossing it to Clary.
She looks utterly confused, "What's this for?"
"When we were younger, I’d watch Jocelyn sketching. It was her bliss, and now it's yours, " His face becomes pensive," You’re gonna need some bliss now, "
"Back then, there wasn’t a day I didn’t draw. It was like breathing, " Clary laughs, but the sound lacks humor, "Now, I look at this blank page and I barely even know what to do. Sometimes I feel like my art, my memories… my life, it… it all vanished with that Memory Demon."
"That's not true, " Maya protests, "I've seen you draw. You're incredibly talented, "
"You’re the woman your mother always knew you could be, " Magnus brushes a strand out of her hair with pride.
"But tried to keep me from being, " Clary mutters, bitterly.
"That’s why you need to know how you got here, " Magnus states.
"Will it help me find my mother?, " Clary questions
"That’s the only reason I can think of why Luke would be so adamant, " Magnus sighs, gesturing for the both of them to sit down at the table before he talks again, "When I first heard about your father, around the time he and Jocelyn first got together, long before the Uprising and the Circle, Valentine elevated the Morgenstern name to be synonymous with virtue. But by the time my people came to know him, barely two years later… his name had become synonymous with devastation. Your mother told me it was then she first saw the signs, "
"The Downworld massacres, " Maya mutters, "Those were the beginnings of the uprising, weren't they?"
"They never found all the bodies, " Magnus sighs, "We’d all stood with the Clave for centuries. And they'd chosen to completely fail us, as well as the rest of the Shadow world."
"How could that not matter to him?" Clary demands, a hint of rage in her voice.
"He was obsessed with ensuring purity of blood. Convinced that the impurities were a threat to peace, " Magnus explains, "Mad men rarely make sense. Mostly, they just hate. And he hated the Downworlders, for the gifts that we possess that he could not have. He hated us enough to kill us all."
"He's not the first one, " Maya retorts, dryly, "I'm pretty sure Old No-Nose has the same manifesto. Just in a different font, "
"Ever since my mother was kidnapped, and the Shadow World invaded my life, so many Downworlders have helped me, not even thinking about what it might cost them, " She glances at Maya, quietly reaching over to lay her hand over the other girls's, "How could Valentine not see any good in any of them?"
"He was blinded by his ambition, " Magnus shrugs.
"Why didn’t the Clave stop him?, " Clary asks
"He was clever, " Magnus sighs, "He and his followers, they managed to convince the Clave that the Downworlders they killed on their special missions had violated the Accords in some way. Complete fabrications - you wouldn't believe some of the things they came up with. They pulled the stories out of their asses, and the Clave ate every word up, "
"But how could the Clave not see?" Clary questions, a confused edge in the voice.
"The law is the law, " Maya shrugs, "Shadowhunters adhere almost fanatically to their laws, so Valentine going astray wasn't really something they were willing to accept, "
"Astray is an understatement, " Clary snaps, "He went insane,"
"What happened back then is happening again, " Magnus's voice grows angry, "The Clave refuses to believe that Valentine’s a threat. Nineteen years ago, their lack of vision allowed the Circle to almost decimate the entire Shadow World."
"That was the Uprising?, " Clary asks.
"Yes, " Magnus clarifies, "Valentine wanted to create a new Shadowhunter army. And for that, he needed the Mortal Cup. He knew it would be on display at the signing of the Accords as a show of the Clave’s power. He seized the opportunity to accomplish everything he ever wanted. Destroy the Accords, murder Downworlders, and secure the Cup, "
"How could my mom and Luke be a part of something like this?, " The redhead questions, her face aghast with shock.
"Jocelyn and Luke tried to prevent the Uprising, " Magnus explains, "They tried to change Valentine’s mind about Downworlders."
"Obviously, they didn’t." Clary persists
"Clary, if it wasn’t for your mother and Luke, the Circle would have won." Magnus sighs.
"How could she be married to someone like that? Put up with his beliefs?" Clary questions, "She had to stop him, "
"And safeguard the Cup, " Magnus adds, "Everything Jocelyn did, she did to save the people she’d sworn to protect. She took her oath as a Shadowhunter seriously."
"I understand, " Clary sighs, "But how does that help me find the Cup?"
"Maybe Luke thinks if you know your mother better, you’ll know where she hid it, " Magnus tries.
"Then, tell me why she gave up being a Shadowhunter, " Clary demands, frustrated
"Because the one thing in the world she loved more is you, " Magnus sighs, "She had to protect you, "
"From my father, the lunatic, " Clary scoffs.
Luke grunts in pain once more from the couch, "It was our fault, "
"The magic’s wearing off, " Magnus curses under his breath, running to Luke's side before Maya can.
"Luke!, " Clary dashes to him, her face turning white as she sees the alpha bite, "It’s worse, "
"I’m running out of magic, " Magnus gasps, the short bursts from his hands fading in intensity. Luke groans once more from the pain, but when Maya gets up, Magnus immediately glares at her, "Sit down. You've done more than enough, "
"What do I do?, " Clary gasps in panic.
"I can’t leave him, " Magnus gasps, "But the potion stock still needs Komodo scale. Find it, add the rest when they get here. You’ll have to feed it to Luke, "
"What about you?" Clary questions, worried.
"I’ll hold on as long as I can, " Magnus grunts, weakly, "Go!"
Clary runs out as Maya runs towards Magnus, the warlock nearing collapse. But just then, Alec rushes in, his hair wild and eyes determined, immediately sliding to the floor to support Magnus's wavering body.
"Help me, " Magnus croaks, his voice hoarse, "I need your strength."
Alec's tone is set, "Take what you need."
Magnus leans heavily against Alec as Jace and Simon run in, shopping bags practically spilling out of their hands.
"Maya!" Jace shouts.
Maya dashes to them, "Do you have everything?"
"Yeah, " Jace sighs, "Here, take them quickly before my arms fall off, "
"You're such a drama queen, Jace, " Maya rolls her eyes, but sets down the bag next to the cauldron. She quickly adds in the ingredient in small batches just like Magnus taught her, stirring seven time clockwise before the potion turns a familiar lilac. Maya quickly turns off the heat, casting a cooling charm before ladling some of the potion into a bottle and handing it to Clary. The redhead immediately runs to Luke's side, pouring the potion down his throat as he stirs, weakly.
Alec helps Magnus off the floor, supporting him with his taller body, "You okay?"
Magnus smiles, softly, gazing up at the Shadowhunter with a rare expression of adoration, "Just peachy, "
Eventually, Clary reluctantly leaves to wrangle information out of Luke, spurred on from a push by Maya to handle the discussion herself. Simon leaves around five-o-clock, the sun just beginning to shine it's pale morning light outside the bay windows. Magnus's pouring Alec cocktails in the kitchen, the two of them talking in hushed tones that Maya never expected to see.
Then again, she never expected to witness the rise of Shadowhunter Hitler once more, so her cool warlock uncle and grumpy almost-stepbrother canoodling isn't really a surprise.
Maya's phone rings from the side table as she's curled up in one of wicker chairs on Magnus's balcony, second cup of coffee in hand. She picks it up without looking at the caller ID, but the voice that answers is a soothing balm to the raw nerves that have had her on edge all night.
"Can't resist me, can you?" Maya drawls, slowly, as Draco laughs from the other end of the line, "This is like, what, the second time you've called me this week?"
"Yeah, well you're pretty much the only source of entertainment I have right now, " Maya can feel him rolling his eyes from the other end of the line, but his tone soon has an edge of concern to it, "Is everything alright?"
"What do you mean?" Maya laughs, softly, but there's an undercurrent of nervousnesses in her tone. This is not good.
"It sounded like someone broke into your house the other night, " Draco sighs, "And I've heard . . . . . things . . . . about what's happening in the Shadow world right now, "
"I can't really confirm or deny anything, " Maya sighs, softly, "And besides, I know how to handle myself. Everything's fine, really."
"Why do I feel like you're lying to my face?"
"Okay, what's with the accusations?" Maya scoffs, "I told you, I'm fine, "
"Fine enough to run and hide while someone breaks your windows?"
"For the last time, that was my bloody cat," Maya snaps, "And besides, even if something like that happened, I have people I can go to, "
"Alright, so where are they right now?"
"What do you fucking want, Malfoy?" Maya snaps, instantly regretting her tone. She's so deeply tired, and he's pushing her beyond her acceptable limits.
"Answers, " Draco matches her tone, the snark stinging just a tiny bit, "I want to know what in Merlin's name you're hiding, and why it's so secretive that the Institute has practically forced you to sign an NDA, "
"You're one to talk, " Maya scoffs, "Why were you so depressed the other night? What the hell's happening inside your house? Why haven't I heard from Diana in days? And why, dear Draco, do you want to know all the details of my life when you barely divulge anything about yours?"
There's radio silence from the other end of the line, thickening a tension between them that feels like it could drown Maya in a wave of anger and frustration, and exhaustion from the events of the night so far. Then Draco speaks, in a tone so resigned and exhausted that it makes Maya's heart break a little inside her chest, "I didn't know caring about someone would be this exhausting, "
"Then don't"
"It's too fucking late for that, Maya, " He cuts the call, and it feels like her heart drops into her chest. Just as soon as Maya finally falls for someone, her ego has to go and ruin it. What has she become?
Just when tears start to leak from the corner of her eyes, Isabelle's caller ID immediately flashes on her screen. Maya takes a shuddering inhale and picks up the call, hoping her voice doesn't sound on the verge of shattering, "What?"
"Mom's going crazy, " Izzy sounds genuinely scared, "The Institute is practically up in flames. She-she's making me act as the Seelie diplomat, and . . . . Alec . . . . "
"What?" Maya presses, wiping the tears from her eyes, "What about Alec?"
"She's forcing him to get married, "
"What?" Shock seizes her nerves and it feels like she can't breathe. How much did Maya miss?
Just then, Clary slides the patio door open, a determined expression on her face, " Maya, let's go. I know where my mother hid the Cup."
Well, that escalated quickly
i have nothing to say for myself. have fun reading lmao because it only gets worse from here.
Chapter 51: Chapter 51
Chapter Text
July 2016
"THE CUP'S IN THE TAROT CARDS, "
"What?" Maya splutters, confused.
"The tarot cards, " Clary repeats, pacing along the living room, "My mom, she must have painted them years ago, but the Mortal Cup has to be hidden inside the Ace of Cups. The card looks exactly like it."
Jace & Magnus give each other a pointed look, Clary narrowing her eyes, "Wait, why aren’t you guys happy about this? All we have to do is find . . . Dot, " Her face falls, "Oh, "
"If Dot had the cards when she was taken, we don’t have much time, " Jace sighs, his voice grave, "If Valentine gets his hands on the Cup—"
"We know, " Magnus interrupts him, "If Valentine started creating Shadowhunters or gained control of demons, it’d be like Beyoncé riding on a dinosaur through Times Square, " He raises his eyebrows for dramatic effect, "People would notice."
"But he can control demons, " Clary protests, "I’ve seen it."
"Mmm, paying off a few demons is easy, " Magnus shrugs, "Especially since they rarely survive long enough to collect."
"Still waiting on Valentine’s thank-you card, " Jace grumbles.
"Opening the gates of hell, however, " Magnus sighs, "requires much more scheming than Valentine is required to put in, "
Then, Luke walks into the room. He's changed into Magnus's clothes - a simple grey t-shirt and sweatpants, but the bandages still peek out from the edges of his clothes. Thankfully, there's much more color in his face than before, "Valentine doesn’t have the cards. I do. They’re in my desk back at the precinct. When Clary went missing, I went to the loft and I cleared everything out, ‘cause I didn’t want the Circle to track her, "
"That’s great!" Clary's face lights up, "This should be easy."
"That’s what General Custer said, " Magnus's tone is skeptical.
"Magnus is right, " Luke sighs, "Valentine has spies everywhere, even in the NYPD. We have to be discreet,"
"The NYPD? Really?" Maya scoffs, "What, does he need his parking tickets paid off or something?" Magnus snorts.
"Discreet? " Clary questions, giving Luke a quick once-over, "You look like something out of The Mummy movie."
"We’ll go in the morning. Werewolf healing, remember?" Luke rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth, "This is nothing a couple of hours of beauty sleep can’t fix. Especially you, kid, " He gives Maya a concerned look, "You look like you need it, "
"Gee, thanks, " Maya rolls her eyes, as Jace snickers under his breath, "I feel extremely flattered, "
"Aren't you Nandini's kid or something?" The werewolf's brows furrow, "What's got you mixed up with Shadowhunters?"
"Being Magnus's goddaughter, " Maya sighs, "Also my complete lack of common sense, but that's a story for another time, "
"In any case, " Magnus butts in, "I agree with Lucian. I think it's time for all of us to hit the metaphorical hay. I'll wake you up around 10, "
"But-" Clary starts.
"No," Magnus holds up a finger as Maya opens her mouth, "Maya, as much as I'd love to see you and Clary cooperating, both of you need to sleep, " He shudders at Maya's appearance, "You look like a pickup truck dragged you a swamp, "
"You don't exactly look great yourself, " Maya scoffs.
"You're right, I don't look great. I look divine," Magnus sighs, "But you all, on the other hand, need a few hours of rest to look even remotely human, "
A collective groan sounds throughout the room. "Are you always this vain?" Jace quips.
"Most definitely, " Magnus sighs, "It's hard not to be in love with yourself when you're blessed with my beauty, "
"More like your gigantic ego - ow!!" Maya glares at Magnus as a couch cushion lands on her head.
Anyway, after four to five hours of sleep, an insane amount of coffee and Magnus ordering enough custard buns to feed an entire army of Death Eaters, Maya, Luke, Clary & Jace arrive in front of the NYPD headquarters. The sun's rays are harsh on them, and Maya's suddenly glad for her choice of clothes, her loose white tank top and black jean shorts allowing some semblance of relief from the blazing New York heat. Jace, on the other hand, looks distinctly uncomfortable in tight, black ripped jeans and a heavy leather jacket, wiping the sweat off his brow as he fans himself with the collar of his shirt.
"You look like a sweaty stormtrooper, " Maya rolls her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips, "Trying to impress someone?"
"Shut up" Jace's cheeks turn red as he glances at Clary, who's thankfully distracted in conversation with Luke, "I'm just . . . . hot . . . okay?"
"I'd disagree, but I think Carrot Cake over there surely appreciates that, " Maya wrinkles her nose in disgust.
"Who pissed in your cereal this morning?" Jace scoffs, "You're irritating me like you're being paid for it, "
"No one, " Maya smiles sweetly, "Annoying you is just my favorite pastime, "
"All right, " Luke sighs, interrupting them, "Cards are on my desk. This shouldn’t take long. It’ll be easier to avoid unnecessary attention if I do this alone. I'd rather not drag a bunch of teenagers into a room full of cops, "
"We are not -" Jace starts but Clary interrupts him.
"Don't worry, Luke. We’ll wait here, " She gives the werewolf a sweet smile.
"How can you even trust him?" Jace whispers to Clary, as Luke walks away, "He's so . . . cryptic, "
"Luke's a man of his word, " Clary rolls her eyes, "Besides, I've known him for years. What could go wrong?"
Unfortunately, half an hour later, their question is answered.
"I’ve got a bad feeling about this, " Clary paces, nervously, as Maya and Jace sit on a nearby bench, "What's taking him so long?"
"I know a way we could find out, " Jace presses, "Just go in and see for ourselves."
"You know that's not possible, Jace, " Maya sighs, trying to calm her own nerves.
"Luke told us to stay put, so that’s what we’re gonna do, " Clary's face brightens as her phone rings, "That’s probably him"
"I doubt it, " Jace sighs, cocking his head in the direction of the building. Maya's heart drops into her stomach as she sees Luke walking through a transparent passage connecting two of the buildings, surrounded by uniformed men she can't place, "Just so I’m clear, he did mention something about trying to avoid attention, right? From the looks of it, he’s doing a terrible job, "
"Circle members?" Clary quips, declining the call ringing up her phone; Maya can tell it's Simon from the brief flash of the caller ID.
"No, mundanes, " Jace squints, peering closer, "Internal affairs officers."
"Department politics?" Maya guesses.
"You can tell all that just by looking at them?" Clary has a confused expression on her face.
"By reading their badges, " Jace smirks, showing Clary a rune on his arm, "Better than binoculars. Luke's had his chance."
"You sure?" Maya questions, "I don't want to get arrested, "
"We won't, " Jace rolls his eyes, "Time's up, let's go"
Somehow, the three of them manage to tail Luke all the way to the interrogation room, Jace and Clary under a glamour and Maya using a disillusionment charm. One of the officers closes the door behind them as they slip into the room, another spreading out pictures of a crime scene onto a metal table.
"Those are circle members, " Jace whispers.
"The same ones who were at the precinct that day, " Clary mutters, lowly, "They've been murdered, "
"What the hell is going on?" Maya whispers, moving closer to Clary.
"Look familiar?" One of the officers presses, stepping closer to the table.
Luke shakes his head from the other side of the table, his expression pensive, " Maybe. I’d have to ask my lawyer."
"That's the way you want it?" The officer scoffs, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "Alright then, Luke. One lawyer, coming right up, "
Luke makes eye contact with Jace as the officer walks away to open the door, and it's that moment when Maya realizes that he can see through the glamour. A chill goes down her spine. How many other downworlders could've seen them sneak in?
"Garroway. Coffee?" The officer asks.
Luke snaps himself out of a daze, "No. No, I’m good."
"Suit yourself, " The officer sighs. He closes the door behind him as he leaves, Luke grabs a tissue. Maya thinks he intends to blow his nose, but she's surprised when he whispers a quiet "Camera" under his breath
Maya looks around, but Jace nudges her, spotting the aforementioned object hanging right next to the window. She flicks her wrist, muttering a quick spell that fries the circuitry and causes the screen to go black.
"Luke, what the hell's going on?" Clary asks him, her voice returning to normal volume.
The werewolf sighs, putting his face in his hands, "I think I’m about to be the prime suspect in a murder investigation."
"Amazing," Maya quips, dryly, "As if this couldn't get any more convoluted, "
"What do we do?" Clary sighs.
"Get the cards and leave, " Luke instructs, "In my desk, bottom drawer."
"All right, " Clary walks out, but Jace grabs her arm.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!, " Luke exclaims, holding out his hand to stop them, "You can’t glamour yourselves. I’m not the only Downworlder on the force, and we don’t know who’s working for Valentine. If anybody spots you—"
"We’d be leading them right to the Mortal Cup, " Jace sighs, knowingly.
"Exactly, " Luke adds, "Better to assume that everybody has the Sight than gamble that they don’t."
"Luke—" Clary protests.
"Don't worry, " The werewolf gives her a reassuring look, "I can handle myself, "
Suddenly, the officer enters once more, munching on a bagel in his hand. He groans as he spots the sight next to the window, "Hey, what happened to the camera?"
Clary quickly drags Maya by the arm, and the three of them slip out of the room undetected. Just before the officer closes the door, Luke answers, " I’ve asked the same thing for years, "
"The cards?" Clary questions, after the 3 of them deglamorize in an NYPD broom closet. Maya's wedged uncomfortably close to Clary and Jace, and she doesn't miss the look in Clary's eyes at having such close proximity to her crush.
"Right, " Jace sighs, "How exactly are we gonna get them? I doubt we can make it out of this closet without drawing attention, let alone Luke’s desk and you are covered in runes."
"Don’t worry, " Clary smiles, "I’ve got a plan."
"A good plan this time?" Jace raises his eyebrows.
"90%. Just follow my lead, " Clary waves him off, "Oh, and I apologize."
"Apologize for what?" His brows furrow.
Clary smirks, "The other 10%."
Maya doesn't know what she means until Clary drags them to Luke's wing of the precinct, her boots stomping on the ground as she angrily walks through the double doors.
Her expression turns murderous, "You son of a bitch!". Clary slaps Jace hard across the face, Maya gasping at the force of the impact.
"Ow!" Jace cries out, rubbing his cheek in pain, eyes wide with shock.
"Stop following me!, " Clary yells, turning a few heads in the precinct.
Jace pulls her in close, whispering, "Hey, what happened to being discreet?!"
"Wait, what did you say?, " Clary steps back, scoffing loudly, "You cheated on me?"
"How could you, Jace?" Maya cries out, dramatically, playing along, "Was her love not enough for you?"
"I… huh?, " Jace stalks after her, beyond confused, "I did not, " Maya grabs his arm, pulling him back.
"What the hell is going on?" Jace whispers to Maya, eyes darting around, as Clary walks over to Luke's desk.
"Just play along, " Maya mutters, out of the corner of her mouth, "We need to distract them, "
"You will never see me at your crappy apartment again!," Clary snaps, as she shuffles around, furiously shoving open the drawers in Luke's desk. Her face falls, slightly, but she keeps up the charade, "I don't even know what I saw in you! "
"Tell him, Fray!" Maya cheers. A smile lurks at the corner of Clary's mouth, but she maintains the angry face.
"That girl means nothing to me! " Jace swears, his eyes putting up a sincere facade, "Nothing, "
"Is that the boyfriend that I heard so much about?" A uniformed woman walks up to Clary, giving Jace a wary side glance.
"Nope, not anymore, " Clary snaps, rifling through Luke's drawers.
Jace salutes the officer with a roguish grin, "Hi"
"I’m dumping him, "Clary rolls her eyes, looking up at the older woman, "Vargas, where’s all of Luke’s stuff?"
"IA took everything, " Vargas sighs, "What are you looking for?"
"I - uh -, " Clary stammers, "I lost a house key and Luke normally keeps a spare in his desk. Is there any way I can get it?"
Vargas clears her throat, "Uh, not till he’s cleared."
"Cleared? " Clay paints a confused expression on her face, "Of-of what?"
"Oh, don’t worry about it, " Vargas waves her off, "We’ll get it handled."
"Oh, " Clary's face falls.
"Clary, I’m sorry. I apologize, " Jace interrupts them, his face pleading, "I just want you to know it only happened, like… two, " He pauses, "or… three, " Jace gulps nervously, "It just happened a couple of times and I am totally—"
"Shut up, " Clary and Vargas simultaneously snap at him.
"Babe, come on, " Jace groans.
"Shove it, blondie, " Maya snaps, smacking the back of his head, "Clary doesn't want you anymore, "
"Listen, you don’t get to call her “babe”, okay?" Vargas snaps at him, raising her eyebrows, "In fact, you don’t get to call her at all. Clary’s done with you. You got it?, " She cocks her head at the guards near the doors, "Take him out."
"I have rights!" Jace yells out, as one of the guards grabs him by the scruff of his neck, the other holding his arms as he's dragged out of the room.
"Finally, " Maya sighs, giving Vargas a knowing glance, "I never thought she'd let him go, "
Vargas laughs, turning to Clary, "Perhaps it’s for the best?, " Her eyes widen in alarm as she spots the glamour rune on Clary's neck, "Oh, matching tattoos. That’s a big red flag, "
"Oh, " Clary laughs, nervously, quickly covering up her neck with her hand, "This… it’s nothing."
"Don’t worry about it. I get it, " Vargas nods, sympathetically, "You always fall for the bad boys, right? Oh, is that just me?"
"Uh, right, right, " Clary stammers, "Uh… I really need that key."
"I’m sorry, Clary, but IA has all of Luke’s things in the evidence vault upstairs." Vargas sighs.
"Oh." Clary sighs.
"Maybe I can help you find the one you lost., " Vargas glances at Clary's satchel, "Did you check your bag?"
Clary makes a show of rifling through her purse, holding up the keys and proclaiming, "Oh, my God! You’re totally right! Thank you so much."
Yep, they're definitely screwed.
"You know what? I’m gonna bring Alec with me next time, " Jace grumbles, once they're all outside the precinct, "I don’t think he’s ever slapped me in the face."
"I’m sorry, I panicked!" Clary exclaims.
"You deserve an Oscar for that show, " Maya laughs, "I don't think I've ever better acting since Black Swan"
Isabelle and Alec then appear in her view, running towards them. Isabelle looks different than usual, Maya notices, her hair in a tight ponytail and clothes more conservative than usual. "Someone called for backup?" the Shadowhunter pants out, breathlessly.
"Yeah, " Jace narrows his eyes, "What took you guys so long?"
Alec glares at him, "Funny, I was gonna ask you the same thing."
"It’s complicated, " Jace looks away, embarassed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"We found the Cup!" Clary pipes up.
"The Cup?" Isabelle's eyes widen in shock.
"Yeah, but then we lost it, " Clary sighs in frustration, "We have to sneak back in the precinct to get it.
"This is a disaster." Alec groans.
"Hey, demon pox is a disaster. This is an inconvenience, " Jace interjects, holding up a finger, " We just need a plan. That’s all."
"What about a glamour?" Izzy questions.
"There's no point, " Maya sighs, "Any of Valentine's lackeys will see through it. Same with the disillusionment charm, "
"Can we ask Magnus Bane to portal us inside?" Clary quips.
"No!" Alec stops them. He immediately blushes, not making eye contact with any of them.
"That’d be awkward, " Izzy saves him, "Magnus can only portal us to places he’s been to before. Right, Maya?"
"Right, yeah, " Maya adds, giving Alec a questioning look "Magic is out of the question anyway. We're surrounded by Mundanes and I'd rather not break the Statue of Secrecy . . . again, "
Suddenly, Clary's phone rings once more, "Not again. Just give me a second, " She sighs, picking up the call, "Simon, this is really not a good time, "
"Clary, where are you?, " She puts him on speaker, "This is an emergency."
Alarm shoots through Clary's voice, "Simon, are you okay?"
" I’m not sure, " Simon laments, "I haven’t been kidnapped yet today."
Clary groans, in frustration, "Simon, seriously, what’s going on?"
"I think I’m sick, " Simon coughs, his voice hoarse, "Like, really sick."
"Simon, remember that time you thought you had the bird flu?, " Clary rolls her eyes in frustration, "Okay, just stay off the internet and you’ll be fine."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, " He interjects, "But this time it’s different."
Jace sighs and grabs Clary's phone out of her hand as she protests, cutting off the call, "Simon’s little problem can wait. I’ve got a great plan."
"Oh, there’s a first, " Clary scoffs, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Just follow my lead, " Jace glares at Clary with irritation, "Oh, and don’t worry, in my plan, no one gets slapped."
"Oh, get over it, Jace, " Maya rolls her eyes at him for the millionth time today.
While Clary and Jace attempt to sleuth their way into the evidence vault, Alec, Izzy & Maya walk into the ground floor of the NYPD. Maya's eyes flit to her phone, some small part of her hoping for a message or a missed call from a certain blond ferret. Anything to show that she hasn't completely obliterated their small semblance of a relationship by blowing up at him in a haze of exhaustion from last night.
"You okay?" Izzy frowns, snapping Maya out of her daze, "You've been really spacey for a while, "
"It's fine, " Maya takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what's to come. Her love life should be of least concern right now, "I'll deal with it later, "
"Alright then, " Izzy shoots her a suspicious look, thankfully deciding not to press further, "Suit yourself, "
"Okay, I’m guessing you’re the distraction?" Alec questions, nervously wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.
"Nope. I’ve decided to grow up, remember? No more distracting for me, " Izzy grins mischievously looking at her brother.
"Really?" Maya laughs, softly, "First time I've heard you turn down an opportunity to seduce the opposition into submission, "
"Ah, I'm taking a page out of mom's book. Maintaining decorum and all that, " Izzy sighs, her long ponytail swishing as she glances at the nearby receptionist, looking as drab as ever in an unflattering NYPD uniform, "Besides, I don’t think I’m her type."
Alec's face pales in realization, "Oh, crap."
"Don’t worry, it’s good practice, " Isabelle smiles, catlike, "You know, for asking out Magnus?"
"Huh?" A confused sound comes out of Alec's mouth as Izzy unbuttons the first few fastenings of his shirt, "What are you… what are you doing?"
"Unbuttoning your shirt, " Isabelle scoffs, "What’s it look like I’m doing?"
"Maybe do something to his hair too, " Maya adds, as Izzy reaches up to tousle her brother's dark locks into a somewhat attractive coif, "It looks a little too stiff to be appealing"
"Izzy, " Alec gently pushes his sister back, slightly red in the face with embarrassment, "This isn't really my department, "
"Come on, " The leonine Shadowhunter rolls her eyes, "You do this sort of stuff all the time."
"You do, " Alec points an accusing finger at Izzy, "I don’t."
"It’s not that hard, " Izzy rolls her eyes, pushing her brother in the receptionist's direction, "Come on. Go make some moves, "
Maya stifles a laugh as Alec saunters over to the receptionist with a nervous smile, "He looks terrified, "
"This is going to be fun, " Izzy snickers, as Alec jauntily leans onto the side of her desk, catching her eye.
"Hey, " He smiles at the receptionist, catching her eye; Maya reads her name as Rosa from the tag on her shirt.
She looks at him with questioning eyes, "Can I help you?"
"Yeah, you- " Alec falters, trying to stall, "You come here often?"
Rosa looks utterly unimpressed, "I work here. What can I help you with?"
"Right, um… Right, right, right, yeah, um…" Alec starts to lose his nerve, rapidly darting his eyes around her desk, searching for her ID, "Yeah, I’m just… I’m looking for some information. Oh, look, "He tips over a nearby water bottle, drenching the contents of Rosa's desk, " Oh, wow. I’m so sorry. Let me just get that. That’s not… I’m so sorry, " Alec stammers as Izzy pulls Maya with her, sliding the card off the desk and directly into his sister's hand as he tries to mop up the water with a nearby tissue, "That’s such a mess. Let me clean that up. Uh, it’s not working. Okay, " He flushes, nervous under Rosa's accusing gaze.
"Here, let me, " She waves him off, mopping up her desk with a nearby mop, "No, I got it. Just go, "
"You sure?" Alec questions, panting slightly.
"Go." Rosa snaps at him.
Alec quickly grabs some information guides from her desk before darting after Maya and Izzy, "Thank you so much, "
The three of them run to the circuitry room, Izzy sliding Rosa's card through the scanner as the door opens. She runs over to the main power board, quickly tracing a rune on it with her stele. The lights in the room spark, then black out entirely. The Shadowhunter smiles victoriously, "This should take care of the power for a few hours at least, "
"Mission accomplished, " Maya laughs, softly, glancing at Alec.
The tall Nephilim avoids eye contact with either of them, eyes fixated on a nearby window, "You two are never going to let me live this down, are you?"
Izzy saunters over to her brother, ruffling his hair as he shoos her away, "Never"
Around an hour and a half later, night has fallen. Clary and Jace meet them outside the precinct, the sound of the sirens around them masking the sounds of conversation.
"Did you get it?" Alec looks at Clary expectantly.
"Theoretically, " Clary explains, her red curls bouncing as she moves.
"What?" Maya raises her eyebrows.
"Yeah, um, " Clary runs a nervous hand through her hair, rambling, "I found the card. I just have to figure out how I reached into my notebook before. It’s… It’s not an exact science."
"Can’t you just pull the Cup out?" Alec questions.
"I can, theoretically. I just… " Clary sighs in frustration, "It’s not as easy as it looks, Alec."
"Listen, you two can discuss theory as much as you want when we get back to the Institute, " Jace looks around them, wary of the cop cars parked next to the building, "But right now, considering we just stole from the cops, I suggest we get home."
"Guys . . . " Izzy calls, Maya looks around. Her heartbeat speeds up as she realizes that Magnus's necklace is pulsing around the Shadowhunter's neck, "I think the mundanes might be the least of our worries."
"Great, " Maya laughs, the sound hollow, "We're surrounded by demons."
"Never a dull day, " Jace grumbles, "Let’s go."
The four of them walk down the street, Clary struggling to keep up behind them, "Guys, slow down!"
The redhead crashes directly into an old lady, causing the senior to drop her briefcase. Clary gasps, immediately crouching to pick up the bag, "Oh, I am so sorry-"
Clary falters as she looks up, her eyes widening. The old woman's face twists into something ugly; her eyes glow a sickly green, mouth tearing and elongating into four prongs with sharp teeth attached to them. Jace runs toward her before Maya can stop him, tapping the old lady on the shoulder as she turns around.
"Hi, Grandma." He smiles, shoving a seraph blade into her chest. The demon shrieks as it burns away, turning into black ash that falls into a pile of ash at Clary's feet.
"What the hell?" Clary gasps, stepping back.
"Language, " Jace rolls his eyes at her playfully, "Not in front of grandma."
"How did it find us?" Alec questions, as him, Izzy and Maya saunter over to them.
"I don’t know, " Jace's voice darkens as he spots a nearby policeman getting out of a car, his eyes alight with a demonic glow, "But she brought friends, "
"Amazing, " Maya snaps, sarcasm dripping from her tone, "Just when I thought this couldn't get any worse, "
"How can you tell?" Clary questions, as the five of them resume their pace down the street.
'It’s like seeing through a glamour, " Jace explains, "You just gotta pay attention to the details."
"But I can’t see anything, " Clary insists, running to keep pace with them.
"Behind us, " Isabelle whispers. Maya whirls around to see that the policeman is still following them, expression set in an unnerving glare.
"I… I still can’t see them, " Clary stammers.
Jace stops dead in his tracks. Another policeman with glowing eyes appears in front of them, and he reaches for the blade inside his shirt.
"Okay there’s too many people, " Clary breathes out, nervously.
"I don’t say this often, but I agree with Clary, " Alec mutters, tugging his jacket tighter around himself, "We gotta get outta here."
"Hey, this way!" Clary leads them down a flight of stairs, Maya sprinting as they all stop in front of a door to the electrical room. Clary whirls around to face Jace, brandishing her stele in one hand, "What's the unlock rune again?"
Jace kicks the door open, the metal clanging against the concrete of the room. He grins, "Open sesame. Go, "
They rush into the room, the dim, low light casting shadows on the grimy walls. Alec deglamours his bow, holding it close to him as he steps in front of the rest of them.
"Hey, what are you doing?" Jace questions, shooting him a confused look.
"Holding them off, " His eyes fall to the redhead, satchel clutched tightly in her hands, "Take Clary back to the Institute."
"No, if you’re staying, I’m staying, " Jace insists, "We fight together."
"Don’t be stupid, " Alec scoffs, "If the demons get the Cup, we’re dead anyways."
"I’m not leaving anyone behind, " Jace presses, his voice tense.
"You don’t have a choice, " Alec counters, his voice low.
"I know you guys are having a moment, okay?, " Clary exclaims, her voice nervous, "But we really have to go."
"Don’t worry. It’s not like this is the first time Alec has saved your life, " Isabelle gives her brother a look of pride, a small smile at the corner of her mouth, "I doubt it’d be the last."
Alec nudges Jace, pushing him forward, "Go. I'll live, "
They make it about fifteen feet down the hallway before the necklace flares again," Guys?" Izzy's tone is of alarm, "It’s pulsing."
"Again?" Clary groans, the weight of her satchel dragging her down. Maya tugs her by the arm, willing her own legs to stop screaming and drag them a few steps forward.
"Getting close, " Izzy sighs, "Let’s spread out."
Jace and Izzy keep their blades ready as magic pulses at Maya's fingertips. She straightens her back, Jace giving her a confused look out of his periphery, "What?" Maya mutters.
"Where are your knives?" He hisses.
"I left them at Magnus's place, " Maya sighs, "Didn't want to get caught by any metal detectors. Besides-" She chuckles, flames coming out of her palm, "Blasting the little fuckers with magic is much more efficient, "
Jace whirls around the room as an eerie growl echoes through the rafters, brandishing his blade in front of him, "Izzy, where is it?"
"I don’t know, " Izzy mutters lowly, circling the room, "It’s like they’re right here, but I don’t see them."
Suddenly, a clattering sound echoes from the drainpipe and a scorpion-like creature jumps from the ceiling, heading directly for Jace. It waves its talons dangerously close to his eyes, Jace swaying as he struggles to push it off of him. He finally manages to grab it in one hand, stabbing the demonic insect with his blade as it burns into ash.
"Are you hurt?" Clary gasps, immediately running to his side.
"I’ll live, " Jace gently brushes her hands off of him, stepping back.
"What are those things?" Clary questions.
"Shax demons." Jace explains, "They’re like the bloodhounds of the Shadow World."
"They’ve been tracking us." Isabelle sighs.
"So what do we do?" Clary quips.
Jace looks around the room, "The Institute’s only a couple blocks from here. Now, we can’t lose them, but they won’t be able to track us if we split up."
"But, I don’t… I don’t—" Clary stammers.
"Clary, you’ll be fine, " Jace gives her a reassuring look, "Izzy and I will draw them away. No matter what happens, just keep running, " He turns his attention to Maya, "Go with her, make sure no one gets near the cup, "
"Got it, " Maya confirms, as another demonic growl echoes throughout the room.
Izzy looks up warily at the rafters, "They’re coming."
"Jace, I—" Clary falters.
"Run, Clary!, " Jace screams, as Maya drags the redhead with her. They dart down an alleyway, panting breaths echoing down the long rooms. Maya crashes into a nearby wall, groaning. Her heart drops into her stomach as she realizes that they've hit a dead end.
"Fuck—fuck, fuck fuck!" She swears. More scorpion-like creatures come out of the rafters, the menacing click of their claws against the concrete walls and floors making the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She pulls Clary closer to her, magic searing at her fingertips, ready to blast the creatures to the hottest planes of hell.
"Crap!" Clary reaches into her bag, pulling out the ace of cups card. She takes a deep breath before reaching into the card, purple flames swirling at the golden borders as she pulls out none other than the mortal cup.
"How the fu—" Maya starts, but she has no time to react.
Clary brandishes the cup in front of her, the glowing light causing the scorpions to screech in pain, "Get back! I said, get back!"
The scorpions run backward down the hallway at her command as Clary holds the cup in front of her, dragging Maya back down the hallway to the tunnels where they last saw the rest of the gang, "Jace! Jace?" she calls out.
The aforementioned Shadowhunter dashes back from the end of the tunnel, "Clary!"
"Hey, " She touches the blood on his face, oozing from a cut on his cheekbone, "Oh, you’re hurt!"
"I’ll be all right, " He brushes her off, his steady gaze scanning over her for any bruises, "You okay?
Clary stammers, "Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Barely, but—"
"What happened?" Jace asks.
"One of the Shax demons cornered me and Maya, " Clary sighs, "But I got the Cup. I don’t know, my instincts just kicked in and I… I could do it. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll be a Shadowhunter after all."
"Clary, you’re amazing, " Jace cups her face in his hands sweetly, "I always knew you could do it. Now give me the Cup and let’s go."
Something twists in Maya's gut as Clary's brows furrow, "Give you the Cup?"
"Yes. Only until we get back to the Institute. It’s the only way I can keep you safe, " Jace sighs, kissing the top of Clary's head lightly, "I’ll die before I let anything happen to you."
"Yeah, you’re totally right, " Clary grabs the cup from her bag as a faint bell rings in Maya's head. Before she can warn her, Clary shoves the cup into Jace's abdomen, his flesh searing as he screams from the impact.
"Clary?" He chokes, looking like he's about to throw up. Maya's rooted to the spot in shock, her worst fears coming true as Jace hacks and coughs, on the verge of collapse.
"Jace… No!, " Panic spreads through Clary's face as she screams, "Oh, my God! Jace!, "
Jace's face suddenly morphs into that of a demon, eyes glowing blue and mouth ripping open into familiar sharp prongs. Clary yells, grabbing a seraph blade from her bag and stabbing it into his chest. Demon-Jace hisses before vaporizing into a familiar cloud of ash, leaving Clary rooted to the spot with tears in her eyes.
Maya snaps out of her daze moments later, rushing forward and shaking Clary by her shoulders, "Hey!" Clary's face snaps up to look at her with wide, terrified, eyes, "He's gone. Jace would never hurt you like that, " She laughs, softly, "Didn't think you'd figure it out faster than me. I had no clue what was wrong, "
"Yeah - " Clary stammers, running a nervous hand through her hair, "It all happened so fast—"
"Clary!" Luke's voice echoes down the alleyway; he comes running into Maya's view with Alec hot on his tail.
Clary pushes Maya behind her, brandishing her seraph blade as Luke and Alec walk up to them, "Get back!" She hisses, " How do I know you’re Luke?"
"I got you spray paint for your birthday, " Luke sighs; Clary relaxes in relief as he looks at her with concern, "What happened?"
"Uh, demons, " Clary stammers, " Long story. Um… Where’d you come from?"
"Jail, " Luke shrugs, as Maya snorts, "I ran into Alec. Said you might be down here. Thought you might need some help."
"Apparently not, " Alec mutters, glancing at the demon ashes on the floor, "Looks like she took care of it."
"Shouldn’t we get going or something?" Clary starts, looking warily around them, "More demons could be coming, right?"
"Jace and Izzy are probably worried sick," Maya mutters.
"Oh, don’t worry about it, " Luke waves her off, " I got the back on the lookout. If there’s any other demons, we’ll take care of them."
"Look at you, leader of the pack." Clary looks impressed.
"Well, you know, it has its perks, " Luke chuckles.
"Shall we?" Clary gestures in the direction of the door.
"Yeah. Right, " Alec looks around the room once more before joining the rest of them.
The double doors of the Institute swing open as the air conditioning hits them at full blast, Maya sighing in relief as she slumps against the stair banister. Jace leans over the main table, tracing his fingers over a map, but he whirls around as Clary's footsteps run straight towards him.
"Clary, " He sighs. She practically throws herself into his waiting arms, hugging him tightly as she looks up at him with pride.
"I did it, " She smiles, "I got the Cup."
"I don’t care about the Cup, " Jace cups her face in his hands, a desperate look in his eyes, "When I came out of the tunnels, I didn’t see you. I was worried something might have happened—"
"There was a demon. A-a Shapeshifter, " Clary stammers, "It looked just like you."
"You alright?" Jace questions, concern flashing in his gaze.
"Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, " Clary waves him off,
"And the demon?"
Clary smirks, "I sent him straight back to hell."
"How’d you know it wasn’t me?" Jace raises his eyebrows in question.
"I just knew, " Clary shrugs.
"Really?" Jace laughs, softly, "Kind of a risk, wasn’t it?"
"Well, this may come as a surprise, but I actually do listen to some of the things you tell me, " Clary chuckles, softly, looking up at him with something in her emerald gaze that makes Maya feel like she's intruding, "You just have to pay attention to the details."
"Yeah, well, I told you the first time we met, you have the Sight, " Jace looks around the room, sighing, "You’re a Shadowhunter, just like the rest of us."
In an unexpected move, Clary grabs Jace's face and kisses him, hard. The Shadowhunter looks taken aback at first, but he smiles into the kiss, grabbing Clary's waist and running a hand through her hair.
Izzy gasps in shock, a knowing smile spreading across her face. Maya shoots Izzy an incredulous look, a hint of envy weaving through her at the adoring way Clary looks at Jace, "Wow, "
"Wow is right, " The Shadowhunter chuckles, softly, but her smile fades as her brother storms out of the room, heartbreak evident in his cerulean eyes, "Alec—wait—"
Maya sighs, softly, looking down at her own phone. Something nags inside her to text him, to apologize, to do something, anything, to salvage the one bit of happiness that's brightened up her days so far. Her thumb hovers over the number that called her last night, hands shaking in anticipation.
Should she?
"Maya?" Izzy's voice snaps her out of a daze; the Shadowhunter looks at her with concern, "You okay? You look a little rattled, "
Feeling foolish for even considering the possibility, Maya sighs, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her jeans, "I'm fine, " She smiles, hoping that the grin painting her face squashes any doubts in Izzy's mind, "Hungry, actually, "
"We have Chinese for dinner, " Izzy smiles, "Hodge got your favorite - sesame tofu. You coming?"
"Yeah, just give me a sec, " Maya sighs, brushing her hair back. As envious as she is at Clary's newfound romance, it's a bad time to be contemplating a romance with a boy who lives across the world from her.
Until Valentine is no longer a threat, her love life can wait.
don't kill me for breaking them up lmao
Chapter 52: Chapter 52
Chapter Text
August 2016
TO SAY THAT DIANA'S BAKING SKILLS ARE NONEXISTENT is an understatement.
To be fair, she shouldn't have expected anything else of herself. Narcissa never taught her how to cook, the older witch relying on the efforts of house elves and magic to sustain herself throughout the day. She's never seen her mother fry an egg or whisk some cream, the elves usually shooing her out of the Manor's kitchen before mealtimes. Even on the occasions she's visited Maya's place, Nandini had her hands too full to cook for them all, usually ordering takeout from the diverse array of restaurants that decorated their Queens neighborhood. She remembers many evenings curled up on their worn couch, clasping pot stickers with chopsticks or scooping up ice cream with a spoon, a random Netflix show playing in the background as the city light glimmers from the windows outside. Point being, Diana has zero clue what to do with herself in a kitchen, which makes this idea all the more daunting.
"Fuck!" she curses, as the clattering sound of a spoon hitting the ground echoes throughout the room. It's around 7 in the morning in Ottery St. Catchpole, the sun beginning to rise outside the large bay windows, painting the sky with a pink glow. Xenophilius left earlier for a sunrise trip into town to pick up a few things, promising to bring back breakfast supplies later. However, Diana has a different plan in mind.
These past few days with Luna have been something out of a dream; sunlit mornings reading The Tales of Beedle & Bard, balmy evenings swimming at Salterton Beach, sweltering afternoons with ice cream in the town square, they've almost made Diana forget about the responsibilities of her old life. She feels truly safe for the first time in years, wrapped in a tranquil cocoon with the Ravenclaw witch. So now she's here, her hands in a bowl of butter and flour, trying to make semi-decent raspberry scones in a show of gratitude.
Though with the way they're going to turn out, Luna will probably think Diana's trying to poison her instead.
Diana groans, frustrated, glancing at the flour mixture in the bowl. The cookbook asks her to mix the butter and flour by hand until it's a "breadcrumb-like" texture, but her recreation looks as though it's the chopped-up remains of the Parthenon. She sighs, adding in the milk and eggs anyway and mixing them in with a nearby spatula, until it mostly resembles the pale dough-like substance pictured in the cookbook, before adding in the raspberries. However, when Diana tries to stir in the fruit, her spatula crushes most of the delicate berries, resulting in splotches of red that look as though the dough has been stabbed violently.
Oh well. At least it'll be pink if she mixes the whole thing.
"What're you up to this early in the morning?" Luna's sleepy voice mutters from behind her. The shorter witch's arms wrap around her waist, head not quite reaching over Diana's shoulder. The contact sends a flurry of butterflies into Diana's stomach, a furious blush cascading across her cheeks, deepening even more so once Luna places a kiss on the back of her neck.
Good God, she is absolutely whipped for this girl.
"Baking, " She replies, trying to sound as unflustered as possible.
"I didn't know that was a hobby of yours, " Luna peeks over the side of her shoulder, eyes brightening as she spots the mixture in the bowl, "Are those . . . . scones?"
"Yeah, " Diana sighs, a weight dropping into her chest, "They're not that great, though. The dough doesn't look like what's in there, "
"Since when are you a stickler for recipes?" Luna laughs, the lilting sound music to Diana's ears, "Besides, the cookbook isn't super accurate. The dough looks just like my mum's, "
"Your mum made you scones?" Diana questions, surprised.
"Yeah, didn't yours?" Luna looks at her, curiously.
"Well, she was more the owl-them-in-from-London-type, " Diana explains, as Luna snorts, "What?"
"Oh, you sweet summer child, " She laughs, placing a gentle kiss on Diana's cheek; Warmth blooms in her chest, not used to so much physical contact at once. Luna's eyes have a far-away look in them, "It was a Sunday thing. Mum'd put a bunch of raspberry scones in the oven while she worked on a new spell, Dad would make the lemon glaze. They didn't look too far off from what you're putting together, actually, " Luna gives Diana a curious glance, "How'd you know?"
"I didn't, " Diana replies, surprised. She gives Luna a soft look as the Ravenclaw witch steps to the side, leaning against the counter, "I just . . . I wanted to thank you, I guess. You and your dad have been so kind to me, considering I've turned up at your door unannounced. I never really expected to have a summer at all, if I'm being honest, since Father . . . y'know-"
"You have nothing to thank me for, " Luna replies, sweetly, sincerity shining in her silvery-blue eyes, "It's what any decent person would do, "
"Yeah, but you're not just anyone, " Diana sighs, then blushes, realizing what she's said.
"I'm not just anyone?" Luna's pale eyebrows raise, a hint of a smile forming on the corner of her mouth, "What does that mean?"
"Y'know . . . you're . . . " Diana suddenly finds herself absolutely lost for words as her jade eyes meet silvery blue Lovegood hues. The shorter witch looks like an angel in the sunlight, her ash-blonde curls in disarray from sleep yet gilded by the light. She's diminutive, pale-skinned and otherworldly, and yet, her gaze weakens Diana's knees more than the regal, intimidating beauty of someone like Isabelle Lightwood. Luna has a fairy-like innocence to her, with dimpled cheeks and ethereal eyes a harbringer, a reminder that there is still some good in the world despite the darkness raging around them. That softness can coexist with tenacity and resilience and still bloom despite the murkiness of it all.
Standing there in the kitchen, her hands full of pink-splotched dough, Diana doesn't know how to tell her. That Luna is so much more than a friend or an acquaintance, her presence too bright and vibrant to be encapsulated by such a restrictive title. That she's somehow intertwined herself into Diana's life and salvaged it from falling into ruin, golden threads pulling her up from the shadows. That Diana is terrified to acknowledge the feelings that bloom at Luna's presence but wither at the thought of desiring hands on her skin, lips on her mouth. That she doesn't feel like she's complete, that feeling this way is new and uncertain yet right all at once. That she's scared of bollocking it all up by spilling it out loud, driving away the only person she's ever felt this way for in her entire life.
"You're special, " Diana finishes, looking back at her dough, hoping the slight shaking of her hands is masked by the kneading of the dough.
"I'm special?" Luna laughs, her eyes turning serious at the mortified expression on Diana's face. She lifts a hand, combing a stray strand of hair over Diana's ear, fingers trailing across her cheekbone, "That's good to know. Because I feel the same way about you, " Luna smiles, ruefully, "You're sweet, Diana Malfoy. There's no one I'd rather care about on this earth than you, "
Diana's heart stops, then picks up beat faster again. She wipes a stray tear from her eye, smearing a bit of the wet dough on her cheek, "You're going to make me cry into these scones, "
"They'll still be as sweet as you, then, " Diana rolls her eyes as Luna laughs, "You're adorable, "
"Shut up, " Diana mutters, a smile gracing the corner of her mouth.
Maybe the world isn't alright, but she certainly is.
"It just looks like a wine glass, " Clary observes, her eyes grazing the cup.
"That wine glass saved your life, " Jace looks at her with something akin to awe.
"What if…" Clary's emerald eyes look up at him with concern, "What if I hadn’t gotten the Cup out in time? That demon–"
"But you did, " Jace reminds her, cupping the side of her face, "First rule of Shadowhunting… when something explodes, just keep walking. Never think twice. Never look away."
"And what’s the second rule?" Clary looks up at him with a coy smile on her face.
Izzy's whip coils around the cup, yanking it from Clary's grasp; She gives her a knowing smirk, "There’s nothing a Shadowhunter can’t do in heels."
"Get a room, Fray, " Maya rolls her eyes, following Izzy down the stairs, "I'd rather not vomit this late at night, "
"Alec, what are you doing?" Jace questions, as Izzy hands the cup back to Clary, who places it in the card once more. Alec's eyes are fixated on the monitor ahead of them, scanning the blueprints of the Institute, "You can stare at this monitor all you want, they need angel blood to get past the wards. You know that. No Downworlder can come into the Institute."
"Not without an invite by a Shadowhunter, " Izzy continues; She glances at Maya, a smirk playing on the edge of her mouth "Or, like Maya, if everyone's scared enough of your mother that they wouldn't dare to try to kick you out, "
"Ouch, " Maya feigns hurt, clasping her chest, "And here I thought you guys were keeping me around for my brilliant personality, "
"Last I checked, Valentine is a Shadowhunter, " Alec interrupts their banter, turning around to face them, "The Cup is not safe here. We have to give it back to the Clave."
"Are you insane?" Maya raises her eyebrows, giving him an incredulous look.
"Give it back to the Clave?" Clary scoffs, "No! Not after everything we went through to get it."
"My brother is right." Izzy gives Clary a forlorn look, "The Cup is extremely important."
"Are you agreeing with me?" Alec gives her a surprised look.
A smile plays at the corner of Izzy's mouth, "I’m full of surprises."
Clary gives him a frustrated look, "This Cup is the one chance I have at getting my mom back."
"I agree with Clary, " Jace sighs, Alec glaring at him, "We can’t give the Cup to the Clave, not now. We need it. It’s our only bargaining chip."
"For once, Jace, you're right, " Maya runs a nervous hand through her hair, "We've already broken so many laws. This cup is our only chance at not being thrown into the Gard, "
"Exactly, " Clary sighs, "Look, I know how powerful this Cup is. It has the power to create new Shadowhunters, control demons and even kill a mundane if they drank from it. But I promise you," She looks between them, eyes wide and pleading, "I will not let that monster get his hands on it."
"There you go, " Jace glances over at Alec, eyes determined, "You have her word."
"Come on, " Alec gestures to the training room floor. They follow him, and he activates a rune on the tile, a display rising from the floor.
"Alec, I realize I couldn’t have done any of this without your help, " Clary interrupts him, eyes sincere, "I wanna thank you."
"Don’t misread this as friendship, " Alec's expression is stony as he places the card on the display, "Since you’ve arrived, our whole world’s been turned upside down."
Clary's face falls as he seals the vault and stalks away, wrapping her arms around herself as she sighs, "There goes the silver lining, "
"Leave it, " Maya nudges her; She sighs in frustration, looking over her shoulder at his retreating figure, "He's just stressed out, "
"So she'll be home next week?" Maya questions, pacing across the training room floor with Magnus on the other end of the line.
"Hopefully, " The warlock answers, a hint of relief in his tone, "Things are wrapping up in Rio, so that's the earliest prognosis. Prepare yourself in case, " Magnus sighs, a hint of dread in his tone, "She'll drag the Lightwoods through the mud, "
"Classic Amma, " Maya sighs, "There's no way she'll let the Institute get away with this. Did you eat, by the way?"
"Yeah, Catarina brought over some pasta tonight, " Magnus's voice is concerned, "Why?"
"I just wanted to make sure you're okay, " Maya rolls her eyes, "You almost ran out of magic that night and the after-effects last days, "
"Maya, I survived two world wars as well as the first Uprising, " She can hear the pride in the warlock's tone from the Institute, "I think I can handle a little bit of a magic hangover, "
"I know, I'm just making sure, " She sighs, her voice dropping, "Thank you for what you did that night. I can't imagine how stressful it must have been on top of the Circle hunting down all the warlocks, "
"It was no bother, " Magnus reassures her, "I simply did what needed to be done. How's Clary, after everything?"
"She's fine, " Maya glances at the aforementioned redhead, who's currently trying to leave a voice message on Simon's phone, "Finding the Cup gave her some hope, "
"And you?"
"I'm . . . . . okay, " Maya sighs, rubbing her temple, "Things are stable, for now. It's mostly just theorizing about what could happen next, "
"Are you taking your meds?" Magnus questions, his voice concerned.
"I . . . . forget, " Maya's heart drops at Magnus's disappointed sigh, "But — but — I was going to take them right before you called, "
"You can't be reckless with them, Maya, " Magnus sighs, frustrated, "Not after what happened last time, "
"I'm not going to strangle anyone again, Magnus, " Maya rolls her eyes, "Jem said I just needed to take them whenever I felt anxious. I'm too busy to be anxious right now — "
"Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, " Magnus sighs, "I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, Maya. I care about you. Hell, I even made a promise to Nandini that nothing would happen to you — "
"Nothing has happened to me!"
"That's not the point, " She can hear the frustration in his tone, and Maya immediately knows that it's taking all of his willpower not to snap at her, "You need to be careful, Maya. I don't know your limits, but you do. Promise me that you'll try to back out if you can't handle it, "
Maya sighs, closing her eyes, "I promise, " She says, after a beat.
"Good, now — "
Suddenly, an alarm blares throughout the Institute, the loud beeping startling Maya and making her almost drop her phone. Jace and Izzy's eyes immediately flit to a nearby screen, Alec already watching it like a hawk. A red circle appears outside the blueprint of the Institute, moving closer and closer with each breath.
"I have to go, " Maya cuts the call short, ignoring Magnus's pleas on the other side of the phone.
"There’s something outside the perimeter, " Alec takes out his bow, sheathing in an arrow as the rest of them join him, magic searing at Maya's fingertips once more, "I told you–"
"Don’t say it, " Jace rolls his eyes at his parabatai.
"What’s happening?" Clary joins them, blade in hand.
Isabelle sighs, coiling her whip around her wrist as her heels click against the floor, leading all of them towards the double doors,"Looks like someone’s trying to break in."
"Could be the Circle." Jace theorizes, pulling his seraph blade out of the holster.
"Told you so, " Alec remarks.
"Too soon, " Jace rolls his eyes.
Izzy pushes the Institute door open, the five of them walking into the foggy summer night. The air is thick with tension, and as Maya narrows her eyes, a shadowy figure comes into view, taking slow, deliberate steps. The set of it's shoulders sparks a hint of familiarity in Maya's brain, but she has no time to react as Jace's angry voice pierces through the dark silence around them, "Don’t move!"
"Drop what you’re holding, " Alec gestures, roughly pointing his bow in the figure's direction, "Put your hands up!"
The figure turns around, and Maya's heart immediately drops into her stomach. Raphael Santiago emerges from the fog, his cheekbones knife-cut and the shadows under his eyes dark as ever. But it's who he's holding in his arms that shocks Maya the most. Simon Lewis lies limply in his arms, curly brown hair mussed and streaked with dirt, blood dripping from and streaking over his skin.
No.
"Simon!!" Clary screams.
"People will be wondering what we found outside the perimeter," Jace mutters to Alec, his eyes aghast after they've laid Simon on a wooden table in the basement. It's a miracle they even managed to sneak him in here unnoticed, but Izzy found a back entrance, and here they are.
"I’ll go, " Alec sighs, "I’ll tell them we didn’t find anything. Nobody will come down here." He slips out the door, closing it behind him.
"I might be a vampire, " Raphael gives Simon a forlorn look, before making the sign of a cross in front of him, "But I was raised a good Catholic, "
"Nice to see you too, Santiago, " Maya rolls her eyes, glancing at Simon's still body. The Mundane looks incredibly pale, skin cold to the touch, but there's still some life in his heart, as Izzy's diagnostic rune showed earlier. Clary clutches one of his hands in hers, tears pouring from her eyes as her lower lip trembles.
"The Vampires breached the Accords, " Izzy snarls, her eyes murderous, "Killing Simon is grounds for war."
"The Vampires were not behind this, " Raphael gives her an annoyed look, "Just Camille. She attacked Simon on her own."
"Camille?" Maya raises her eyebrows.
"How do we know you’re telling the truth?" Jace questions, his eyes suspicious.
"I could have gotten rid of him, but instead I brought him here, " Raphael drawls, giving Jace a pointed look, "I don’t want trouble with the Shadowhunters."
"Smart decision." Isabelle has a murderous look in her eyes as she glowers at Raphael.
"I warned the mundane to stay away… but Camille gave him a taste of her own blood, and like an addict, " Raphael spits, his voice bitter, "He came back wanting more."
"And that's whose fault again?!" Maya snaps at him.
Clary lunges forward, "The only reason Simon ever tasted Camille’s blood is because of you! You kidnapped him! You drug him to the Hotel DuMort, " Rage quakes in her voice, angry tears spilling down her face, "You… You delivered him to Camille!"
"I never meant for this to happen." Raphael insists, but Maya doesn't buy his facade.
"Then what did you expect to happen, Raphael, hmm?" She spits, walking up to him, "Did you think Camille would just let him walk off after trading him for the cup? You, of all people, should know that she likes to play with her food. Camille thrives on suffering, what made you possibly think that she wouldn't inflict the same on Simon?"
"Oh, please, " Raphael scoffs, "Leave your personal judgement out of this, Hybrid. Her whole tryst with Bane was years ago. For someone who's fraternizing with Shadowhunters, you're a bit too hot-headed to be reliable in crisis, "
"Oh, I'll show you hot-headed—" Maya snarls, lunging towards Raphael, but Isabelle grabs her arm, stopping her in time.
"Simon, " Clary sobs, her body shaking with despair, "Simon, please come back, please!" She leans her head on his still chest, her tears staining the grey fabric of his shirt, and Maya feels a twinge of pity looking at her.
Raphael sighs, sitting down on a nearby bench, "There is a way."
" 'A way' to do what?, " Jace snaps at him
"A way to bring Simon back." The vampire finishes.
"You can do that?" Clary darts up from the table, her eyes filled with desperation, "How? How?"
"He’s a fledgling, " Raphael spares Simon a glance before looking back up at the redhead, "It’s a state of transition. Your friend can be resurrected."
The meaning of his words sink in, and Maya feels like she's going to throw up, "Absolutely not, "
"Clary, no — " Isabelle tries to stop her, but it's too late.
"So I could have Simon back?" Hope begins to bloom in Clary's eyes, "Alive and breathing?"
"That’s just it, " Isabelle explains, "He won’t return alive or breathing. He’ll be a vampire."
"And not the sexed-up, romantic kind, " Jace spits, "The ugly, bloodsucking, coffin-dwelling kind."
"That’s offensive, " Raphael interrupts him.
"Really?" Jace scoffs.
"Coffin implies wooden box, " Raphael drawls, derisively, "We have caskets now. They’re made of 14-karat gold."
"Oh, joy," Maya rolls her eyes at him.
"It’s almost sunrise, " Raphael sighs, getting up from the bench; he glances at the window outside, "Simon must be turned into a vampire tonight or staked through the heart."
"And if I do neither?" Clary looks at him in utter shock.
"His soul will be trapped for eternity, " Raphael states, plainly, "You have till sunset to decide, " He glances at his phone, "The clock is ticking."
Jace soon leaves to go get them coffee, Clary to use the restroom, Izzy summoned by Robert and Maryse for a meeting upstairs. They leave Maya alone with a silent Raphael and a cold, fading Simon. Maya feels her stomach turn into knots the more she looks at him, but she can't bring her eyes to move away.
They say all's fair in love and war, but Maya doesn't know what Simon did to deserve this. He's completely unconnected to them, separate from the trials and tribulations of the Shadow World. He's never killed a demon or murdered a Shadowhunter, done nothing reprehensible or violent. Yet he's the one lying cold on the table, vampire blood in his veins and a sire calling his mind. All for just caring about his best friend. Shadowhunters say their job is to protect Mundanes, yet if they walked in here, Maya realizes, they'd stake his heart and burn his body just because of the foreign blood his veins contain. Out of all of them, Simon's the most innocent, yet he's the one suffering a fate worse than death.
War may be cruel, but Maya's willing to bet she'd be much worse if Camille Belcourt ever steps foot near them again.
"Lost in your thoughts, Hybrid?" Raphael's derisive tone snaps Maya out of her reverie.
"Shut up, " She snaps at him, "I'm not in the mood for your scintillating banter, Santiago, "
"You know, I sometimes wonder, " He drawls, pacing closer to her, "How did someone as smart as yourself end up in a situation as convoluted as this hellfire in front of us?"
"My friends needed help, so I gave it, " She shrugs, "Simple, "
"Meaning you gave them your life to dangle over a pit?"
"Would you rather Valentine rise and vanquish your kind again?" Maya snaps.
"Your kind?" Raphael scoffs, "Have they brainwashed you that much?"
"What're you getting at, Santiago?" Maya rolls her eyes at him.
"You're being a fool, " Raphael snaps, leaning over the table, Simon's body between them, "Despite what they may portray, the Shadowhunters do not care about you. No matter how much Angel blood you have, you're still othered in their view. Which means they'd be all too happy to let you 'accidentally' fall into the hands of Circle members. And we both know that they would love nothing more than to rip apart someone like you, "
"Why are you telling me this?" Maya scoffs, "You don't even care about me, "
"I don't, but Magnus does, " His gaze softens at the mention of the warlock, then hardens once more as he glares at Maya, "The longer you go along with these unsanctioned missions, the more time the Clave has to build a case against you. The more reasons you give them to throw you into the Gard or into Circle hands— "
"That's illegal, " Maya interrupts him.
"You think they care?" Raphael laughs, the sound hollow, "You don't have the same protection as your friends, and the Lightwoods, no matter how indebted they are to your lovely mother, cannot afford to risk their necks in order to spare yours. Besides, it's clear that the Clave has lost significant trust in them. Rumour has it that they're sending an envoy to take temporary control of the Institute and make sure the Lightwoods don't muck up anything. You'll be under even more scrutiny, "
"I can handle it, " Maya scoffs, "I've dealt with egotistical assholes my entire life, "
"This one has the power to ruin your life if you fuck up even slightly, " Raphael snaps, "I beg of you, hybrid, do not make this any worse for yourself. You have many more things to lose in this war than your friends do. Back out before it's too late. You cannot afford to risk your life for a Nephilim cause, "
"Valentine isn't just a Nephilim threat, Raphael, " Maya snaps at him, glaring directly into his eyes, "He'll kill anyone and everyone who stands in his way — including any Downworlders he can get his hands on. You're right, I do have a lot to lose. But unlike you, I cannot stand by and watch Valentine expedite that process with his agenda. So save it. I'm here to stay, "
There's a long moment where they stare at each other, a moment where the fire inside Maya dies down as the anger on Raphael's face deepens, a moment where she thinks he might reach across the table and snap her neck for being so insolent. Then as suddenly as it started, the moment falls away and Raphael's expression falls. He sits back down, looking at her with a pensive expression before drawling once more, "It's your funeral, "
She clicks her tongue, crossing her arms over her chest, "So be it, "
The tense silence is broken in as Jace walks in, three cups of coffee balanced on a tray along with a plate of scones. He furrows his brow, surveying Maya and Raphael, "Is everything okay?"
"Lovely as usual, " The vampire answers, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
"Alright, " Jace still looks suspicious, but he sets the tray down on a nearby stool, "I brought coffee and food, " He sighs, passing a mug to Maya, "I would've brought something for you as well, Santiago, but unfortunately we don't have the tears of children at the Institute, "
Maya snorts into her coffee as Raphael rolls his eyes, "As if I'd accept food from Shadowhunters anyway, "
Clary walks into the room as Maya grabs a scone, sighing as she realizes they're fresh-baked. Her brows are furrowed, fiddling with something on her phone, and her face changes as she plays a recording. Simon's voice pours from the speakers, and Maya realizes that it's one of the incessant voicemails he kept leaving her while they were searching for the cup, "Clary, I really need to talk . . . I think I’m turning into a vampire . . . I’m scared."
Clary's lower lip trembles as she glances at Simon once more, "I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. This is all my fault."
Jace interjects, stepping closer to her, "Clary, this isn’t your–"
"But it is, " She looks at Jace, tears spilling from her emerald eyes once more, "If it weren’t for me, Simon would have never even known about the Shadow World. He would never have been kidnapped by vampires. He wouldn’t have met Camille. He would… " She stammers, voice panicked and high, "He wouldn’t be dead."
"Fledgling, " Raphael corrects, "He’s in transition."
"And now I am left with two… two reprehensible choices… " Clary shudders, her tone terrified and breathless, "And I can’t figure out which one is worse, " She catches Raphael's eye, "If I, uh… if I bury Simon…" Clary swallows, breathing deeply, "What are the risks?"
"Clary, no, " Jace stops her, eyes wide with horror, "Absolutely not."
"Jace, I need to know!" She snaps at him.
"If Simon is buried and he doesn’t emerge…" Raphael sighs, closing his eyes, "He would be trapped under the earth… starving for eternity."
"Oh my God, " Clary gasps, voice quaking once more, "And, uh… if I… if I stake him?"
"He’ll die a human death, " Raphael sighs, gravely, "It’s painless, as far as I know."
"Simon, " Clary claps a hand over her mouth, shivering as tears pour down her face, "I’m so sorry."
At Jace's insistence, Maya goes home to change and get an hour or two of sleep while him and Clary head over to Simon's place in Brooklyn, and Isabelle and Alec deal with the bureaucratic mess back at the Institute. Raphael's warning turned out to be true — there was in fact a clave envoy sent to the New York Institute. She caught a glimpse of Lydia Branwell's blond head as she, Clary and Jace snuck out of an emergency exit to split up and go to their respective destinations, demanding the whereabouts of the redhead that was trying to disappear from her sight that very moment. Apparently, she'd walked in glamoured as Valentine, then criticized everyone's reaction time while catching the arrow Alec shot at her before finally introducing herself.
If Branwell didn't hold the fate of Maya's life in her hands, she might actually admire the woman.
Anyway, after a long, hot shower and realizing how absolutely empty the loft feels without Nandini, Maya passes out on the couch, barely managing to make it to her bed in a haze of exhaustion. She jolts awake around 4pm, groping around on the floor for her phone, whose ringtone, "I Know Places, " is currently ripping her ears off. Maya manages to grasp the metal object in her hands, sliding her finger across the screen to pick up the call, "Hello?" She answers, yawning, her voice hoarse from sleep.
"It's four in the evening, Rajesh, " Draco Malfoy's voice jolts her awake, "How are you still asleep?"
"I've had a long day, " Maya rolls her eyes at him, dread settling in, "Hey, this is actually kind of a bad time for me—"
"I'm sorry, " He interrupts.
Surprise roots her to the spot, "What?"
"I shouldn't have — I shouldn't have pushed you that night, " Draco sighs, frustrated, "I was just scared, with everything, and I — I went too far. I'm sorry, "
Maya swallows the lump in her throat, letting out a deep breath as she settles back into the couch. A quiet moment passes between them, "Thank you, " She murmurs, quietly, after a few seconds, "And for the record, I don't think either of us want to talk about our lives right now, "
"Point noted, " Draco laughs, a soft sound that makes something ache in her chest, Maya smiles in spite of herself, "How's your . . . cat . . . then?"
"Really?" Maya laughs, "That's the best you could do? He's fine, trying to steal everyone's food as usual, "
"Would you rather I start a conversation with 'Bloody Hell, I really want to kiss you right now?' " She can feel him rolling his eyes from the other side of the phone.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Malfoy, " Heat pools low in Maya's abdomen; she bites her lip, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.
"Are you implying that I'm a bad kisser, Rajesh?" His tone turns teasing, "Because the last time I kissed you, you seemed quite partial to my methods. Very 'into it' as the Americans would say, "
"I don't know . . . " Maya blushes, softly, "I don't exactly have anything to compare it to, "
"Oh . . was I your first kiss?" He sounds surprised.
"Yeah, " She admits, softly, "Was I yours?"
"No, " Her heart falls slightly at his words, "But . . . you were the first one that meant something, "
"Don't flatter me, Malfoy," Maya rolls her eyes even as her heart picks up pace, "You know it's not going to work,"
"I wasn't, " He sighs, and Maya can tell that he's being honest, "Besides, I don't have to flatter you to get you to like me. My dashing good looks do the job well enough, "
"Could you possibly get more vain?" She scoffs.
"You seemed to like them a lot, from the way you kept staring at me during that quidditch game, " He drawls, and Maya's cheeks flame once more at the memory of him pulling his jersey up to wipe his face, the memory of his steely eyes on hers sending a shiver up her spine.
"You're insufferable, " She scoffs, a hint of playfulness woven in.
"And you love it, " Maya can practically hear the smirk in his voice.
"That I do, " She sighs, softly, a smile coming to her face, "You know, all this sparring is starting to make me miss you just a little bit, "
"Oh yeah?" Draco's voice has a hint of pride, "What would you do if I was there?"
"I'd have to stop Church from attacking you because he mistook you for a ferret, " Maya smirks. She hears him snicker. Suddenly, the buzzer to her apartment rings, cutting their conversation short. Maya sighs, "I have to go, "
"So disappointing, " He drawls, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "However shall I lead my life without your golden presence?"
"Don't act like talking to me wasn't the highlight of your day, " Maya rolls her eyes, a smile playing at her lips.
"I admit nothing, " Draco says, haughtily, but Maya notices his tone soften after, "See you around, yeah?"
"We'll see, " Maya laughs, before cutting the call. She sits up from her position on the couch, sighing as she stretches, relieving the tension in the muscles inside her back. The doorbell rings again, and Maya's brows furrow. She isn't expecting anyone. Nevertheless, she quickly runs to the kitchen, grabbing a knife and hiding it behind her back in case of a Circle Member, creeping slowly towards the door.
The doorbell rings once more as Maya prepares to strike, swinging open the door as she jumps in the air, knife poised in her hand. However, as the door hits the wall, a hand grabs her wrist, shoving her back with a confused expression, "What the hell, Maya?"
Maya opens her eyes; Clary Fray is standing in her doorway, a mixture of confusion and bewilderment on her face, "You know that's a butter knife, right?"
Maya's cheeks burn with embarrassment; she glances at the metal apparatus in her hand with shame, realizing she grabbed it from the drawer instead of the stand on the counter. She quickly hides it behind her back, "You could've been a Circle member. I was trying to defend myself, "
"Yes, I totally would've been intimidated by a tiny girl in a Pink Panther sweater trying to stab me with a butter knife, " Clary rolls her eyes, looking at her suspiciously, "Is someone else in there?"
"God no, " Maya makes a sound of disgust, "Why?"
"You seem . . . . lighter, " Clary observes, "There's less of the weight that was there at the Institute, "
"Yeah, well, actually sleeping does help " Maya remarks, not feeling the need to divulge the occurrence of a conversation with a certain blond, "What are you here for, anyway?"
"Jace and I just got back from visiting Simon's family, " She sighs, "It didn't go great, "
"Oh, " Maya furrows her brows, "Were they bitchy or something?"
"No — um — " Clary swallows, softly, looking down at the welcome mat beneath her, "I couldn't tell them about Simon being . . . you know ."
"Dead?" Maya finishes. A wave of sympathy washes over her for the redheaded girl, and she sighs, "I imagine that would have been hard for anyone, "
"Yeah, " Clary sighs, nervously scratching the back of her head, "Anyway, um, Jace and I are going to go see Luke at Jade Wolf and I thought you should come, "
"Really?" Maya questions, surprised, "Why?"
"Jace had some business to take care of, so he said to just meet him there, " Clary sighs, "But, given the current circumstances, I'd rather not go there alone, so I thought of asking you to come with me, "
Maya raises an eyebrow, "Are you saying that you're going to willingly spend time with me, Fray?" She laughs, stepping back, "Come in, "
"Don't push it, " Clary rolls her eyes, shutting the door behind her, but there's a hint of a smile on her face.
Maya makes her wait in the living room, running to her own to change out of the aforementioned pink panther sweater. She pulls on her trusty pair of black jeans and a dark red silk camisole, steering clear of anything light-colored for fear of bloodstains. Maya grabs her leather jacket from its hanger, slipping it on as she ties her hair into a ponytail. As she walks into the living room, pausing to lace up her boots, Maya notices Clary examining the pictures on the wall opposite to her, eyes lingering on a shot of her, Arjun and Nandini, taken by Arya as they run after her toddler self in a park.
"That's your dad?" Clary points to a running Arjun in the picture, a smile on his face as he tries to wrangle Maya.
"Stepdad, technically, " Maya swallows, nervous, "He passed when I was four, about a year before we moved here, "
"You're not from New York?" Clary's brows furrow, "But you don't have an accent, "
"I've lived here for over a decade, Fray, " Maya rolls her eyes, "You start to blend in after some time. I used to live in Oxfordshire, "
"You're British?" Clary raises an eyebrow, "I couldn't tell, "
"I was born in England, " Maya explains, "Still go to school there. Anyway, enough with the questions. Let's get a cab to Jade Wolf. The subway's slow this time of day, "
Jace meets them outside the restaurant around an hour later, his expression morphing into one of shock when they step inside. The restaurant has been utterly ransacked, chairs broken, windows smashed, chopsticks scattered on the floor. Maya almost trips on a fallen lantern as she walks inside, some of the werewolves begrudgingly cleaning up the mess.
"Luke, are you okay?" Clary exclaims, running over to the aforementioned werewolf. He looks unharmed, albeit for some stray rips in his shirt, but there's no blood on him whatsoever.
"What happened?" Jace questions, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"Uh… you should see the other guys. We were attacked by a Forsaken, if you can even call it that," Luke sighs, looking around at the mess of a restaurant around him, "Anyway, it’s dead. It looks worse than it was."
'You’re hurt, " Clary points out, gesturing to a faint cut on his arm.
"Uh, no. Already healed, " Luke smiles, "Perks of being a werewolf. Anyway, I called Alec. He took the Forsaken back to the Institute for an autopsy."
"We’ve got the best forensic pathologist in New York, " Jace grins.
"Izzy'll sort it out, " Maya sighs, rubbing her arms nervously.
"Yeah, so I’ve heard, " Luke rolls his eyes before giving the redhead a concerned look, "Clary, what are you doing here? Now that you have the Cup, you know you should be back at the Institute, protected."
"I haven’t taken my eyes off her." Jace assures him, leaning against one of the booths.
"I needed to see you. Luke, it’s Simon, " Clary closes her eyes, letting out a shaky exhale as she looks up at the werewolf with tears in her eyes, "He’s, um… Luke, he’s dead. The vampires . . . . Camille drained him,"
Utter shock spreads over the werewolf's face; he immediately pulls Clary into a hug, "Oh my God. I'm so sorry, "
When her tears subside, Luke leads the three of them over to an undamaged booth, sitting down as he explains, "You all probably know that Valentine was the one who got me bitten, " He sighs, swallowing deeply at the thought of bitter memories, "It wasn’t easy going from a revered Shadowhunter to a… werewolf. Suddenly, I was foraging for food, unable to control my own body. I lost my family, my friends."
"But not my mom, " Clary adds
"No. Jocelyn never abandoned me, " Luke shakes his head, "Having you and Jocelyn in my life kept me from using this." He gestures to a nearby knife, and a pang of guilt hits Maya straight in the chest as Clary takes his hand, "Knowing that you both needed me kept me alive,"
"I will never stop needing you, " Sincerity shines bright in Clary's emerald eyes.
"Clary, " Luke sighs, pausing, "You know I love Simon like a son. If you decide to bring him back, just know that his journey won’t be easy, " He gives her a pointed look, "So make sure you do it for him, and not yourself."
Later, when they're outside the restaurant, and Jace is calling them another cab, Clary sighs, turning to Maya, "Is bringing him back the right thing to do? "
"I don't know, Fray, " Maya exhales, sharply, "I don't know Simon well enough to say anything. But I do know that you care about him. A lot," She looks the Shadowhunter directly in the eye, "So whatever choice you make will probably have his best interests at heart, "
Clary smiles, softly, "You're honest. I like it, "
"Don't get too soft on me, " Maya rolls her eyes, but her smile subsides, "So . . what's it going to be?"
Clary sighs, softly, her breath shuddering. She closes her eyes for a moment, then opens them again, emerald orbs filled with determination, "I . . . I want to bring him back, "
They decide to do it in the Institute's graveyard. After sunset, the four of them head out. Raphael carries a shovel, Clary carrying an item of Simon's and Jace carrying the fledgling himself. Maya stands guard, making sure they're a safe distance from the Institute, before Jace lays Simon on the grass.
Suddenly, a rustling sounds from the bushes, Jace immediately taking out his blade. However, before any of them can react, a red blur shoots forward, stopping a few feet away from them, and Maya realizes, her heart speeding up in fear, that it's none other than Camille Belcourt herself, fangs and all.
"Well, well, well, long time no see," The vampire leers, stepping closer; Maya shivers slightly at the predatory look in her eye, "Little Maya Rajesh, all grown up. I'd say you've done well for yourself, but judging by the company around you, " She gives Jace and Clary a disgusted look before turning back to Maya, a vicious gleam in her eye, "you haven't changed that much, "
"What do you want?" Clary spits, anger evident in her emerald eyes.
"I want my property back," Camille answers, with a self-satisfied smirk.
"Simon is not your property, " Clary snaps, fury evident in her stance.
"If you’ll just hand him over, I’ll be on my way." Camille raises a cool eyebrow, gesturing towards the fledgling in Jace's grasp.
"As if, " Maya scoffs. Magic crackles at her fingertips once more and she stands tall, itching to hurl a curse at the Vampire, make her hurt the same way she hurt Maya all those years ago.
"You heard Clary, " Jace tightens his grip on his blade, "You’re not laying a hand on him."
"Fine, " Camille drawls, her expression twisting into one of irritation, "I tried to do this the nice way."
Camille snaps her fingers, and a horde of vampires appear behind her. A hint of fear makes it's way down Maya's spine, but Raphael steps forward, shovel held in his hand, "I’m glad you brought everyone here to witness your demise, " He drawls, eyes flashing as he faces the other vampires, "Camille killed this mundane. Now, I have all the proof, " Raphael smirks, victoriously, "She’s been breaking the Accords for too long now. He’s the evidence we need to show the Clave what Camille has been doing."
"Are you trying to overthrow me?, " Camille raises an eyebrow, a derisive laugh escaping her red lips.
"No, " Raphael smiles, thinly, "I already have."
The vampires surround Camille, hissing, and her tone turns slightly desperate, "Don’t listen to him. Raphael doesn’t know the first thing about leading, " She scoffs, turning as she addresses the vamps, "You need me. I’ve given you everything you could want. All the riches. All the pleasures you could desire."
"By breaking the law, " Raphael snaps, "Which will only destroy us."
"We can fix this. If we just get rid of the body, " Camille insists, gesturing to Simon's limp frame on the grass, "This mundane means nothing."
" 'Means nothing?' " Clary scoffs, walking over to the vampire, "Over my dead body." Before Maya can stop her, she punches Camille straight across the face, her knuckles making a satisfactory crack against the vampire's pale skin. Camille gasps in shock as Clary walks back to them, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. Camille snarls, lunging for Clary, but the horde of vampires surround her, a malicious glint in their eyes. Then, in the blink of an eye, the vampires disappear in a pale blur, dragging a protesting Camille along with them.
"Alright, " Raphael sighs, coolly, "Clary… it’s time. Which will it be?" He holds the shovel in one hand and a stake in the other.
Clary sighs, swallowing a lump in her throat. She hesitates for a moment, a moment in which none of them can breathe. Then, overcoming her deliberation, she grabs the shovel from Raphael's grasp, plunging it into the ground to dig a Simon-sized hole. Maya helps her, using her magic to scoop up dirt from the ground, and in about half an hour, the grave has been dug.
Jace slips a piece of Jewish clothing around Simon's shoulders. Clary runs a shaking hand through his curly brown hair, "When your grandfather gave you this at your bar mitzvah, you, um… you told me how much it meant to you, " She stammers, softly, "It was a symbol of the day you became a man. Simon… Simon, no matter what happens… no matter what you become…, " Clary's voice wavers, tears shining in her eyes, "You will always be that man to me."
Clary stands up, and Maya instinctively takes her hand. She looks the redhead directly in the eye, offering a word of reassurance, "Hey, take a deep breath. You're doing great so far, "
Raphael gently lowers Simon's lanky frame into the grave, his head resting on the disturbed earth beneath him. Clary sighs, and walks over to pick up a shovel full of dirt. She slowly empties it into Simon's grave, but her shaky hands tremble so much that she nearly drops the shovel. Jace instinctively pulls her into his arms, taking the shovel from her. He sighs, taking over the duty and eventually, fills the grave with dirt.
A few moments later, Raphael leaves to go pick up some other materials, and the three of them sit by Simon's grave. Clary leans against Jace, as Maya places her elbows on her knees , wiping away a stray tear falling down her cheekbone.
"That mundane’s a fighter, " Jace remarks, "He survived the vampires at the Hotel DuMort. He survived the werewolves at Jade Wolf, " He laughs, softly, "He survived AP accounting, for whatever that’s worth."
"He is a fighter, isn’t he?" Clary smiles, softly, looking back up at Jace, "Look, I know you think emotions cloud judgment, and that whole falcon story, I… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wrap my head around that, but… all of that contradicts the first rule of being mundane."
"What’s the first rule of being mundane?" Jace raises an eyebrow.
"It’s that love makes you stronger. It was my mother’s love for me that made her betray Valentine and steal the Cup, " Her eyes shine with sincerity, "It’s love that makes you fight harder for what you want."
Suddenly, an unearthly grumbling sounds from beneath them, the ground shaking as Maya helps Clary to her feet, Jace getting up behind them. Raphael runs up to them, a full bag in his hands, "It’s happening."
Maya screams as an arm bursts through the grave, Simon's dirt-encrusted face appearing moments later. He wheezes, taking large mouthfuls of air as he climbs out of the grave, finally sprawling out on the edge as Raphael takes out a smaller bag filled with dark liquid.
"Simon. Simon!" Clary runs up to him, her eyes earnest, "It’s me. It’s… it’s Clary."
Simon's eyes darken, and he hisses at Clary. She screams, Maya yanking her back by the arm as Raphael throws the bag on the ground, "Once reborn, you emerge hungry." Simon rips open the bag and lifts it to his lips, red rivulets of blood cascading down his throat and staining his shirt. He downs the first bag in seconds, Raphael quickly tossing him another one, "Very hungry, " He reaches out to ruffle the now-Vampire's hair, "Drink up, kid."
"He's draining them like Capri Suns at a barbecue, " Maya mutters, staring at him in half-fascination, half-disgust. Clary looks utterly shocked, her green eyes wide with horror.
Simon's pace eventually slows down, his eyes becoming more lucid as he drops the last bag on the ground. He suddenly looks terrified, stammering as his eyes catch on the redhead, "Clary… what’s happening?"
"You —um — " Clary stutters, hands still shaking, "You died."
"I what? What’s this?" Simon looks utterly horrified, picking up one of the empty bags; He gasps, flinging himself backwards, as a dark red substance stains his fingers, "That’s blood!, " Simon's dirt-covered hands travel up to his face, paling rapidly as he touches his fangs, discovering the cause of his lisp, "Oh, my– Oh, my– Why can’t I say–"
"God, " Raphael grimaces, before sighing, " It’ll take time to regain the ability. There’s a lot you will need to learn."
"Oh, my– Damn it!, " Simon screams, slamming his fists onto the ground; He looks up at Raphael, shuddering, "Am I… Am I a vampire?"
Clary nods, "Yeah."
"Clary, tell me, " Simon's eyes grow wide and pleading, "Tell me this isn’t real. Tell me this isn't really happening!"{
"I’m sorry. I’m sorry, " Clary cries, reaching out for him, "I’m so sorry!"
Simon yanks himself backward from her touch, eyes horrified as he rapidly looks down at his dirt-covered clothes, "I’m, I’m… I’m repulsive!"
"No, please!, " Clary pleads, trying to reason with Simon, "Please don’t say that, okay? You’re still the same, Simon. You’re the same Simon I’ve known my whole life. The same guys who loves sci-fi. And who can recite every line from —" She stammers, "— from every Nicolas Cage movie. The same Simon who carried me over the Brooklyn Bridge when I lost my shoe, okay?"
"No, Clary, I’m not!" He insists, a stray tear running down her face.
"Yes, you are, Simon!, " Clary yells, tears freely streaming down her pale face, "You are the same Simon! You are my best friend!"
"I’m not, " Simon shudders, looking up at her, "I’m nothing more than a monster."
"No," Clary gasps, her voice quaking, "Simon, you–"
"Stay away!, " Simon screams, shaking as he drags himself up to his feet, sparing her a tearful glance, "Please just… stay away!". And with that, he escapes into the dark Manhattan night.
"Simon…" Clary breathes out, eyes fixed on his retreating figure.
Raphael places a hand on her shoulder, "I’ll look after Simon, " He looks Jace and Maya directly in the eye before running after the other vampire, "You have my word."
"What did I do?" Clary gasps. Maya immediately wraps her in a hug, the redhead's fists immediately bunching up Maya's camisole as she sobs into her jacket; Jace softly strokes her fair, "What did I do?!"
Maya opens her mouth to retort, but her blood runs cold at the sight over Clary's shoulder. Camille Belcourt stands in between the trees, eyes gleaming as they bore into hers. Her hair is ruffled from the altercation before, scratches covering her arms, red lipstick smeared on her face with blood. She looks utterly unhinged, hair wild as her fangs bare in a slow, chilling smile. Camille motions to Maya's neck, making a horizontal motion on her own, and Maya realizes the meaning of her gesture even without translating it aloud.
You're next.
Then as quickly as she came into view, Camille disappears, and Maya is left with the sounds of Jace's retreating footsteps and Clary's heaving sobs. She swallows, rubbing gentle circles onto the redhead's back.
"You did what you thought was right, " Maya breathes out, her voice quaking from a mixture of grief and fear, "And sometimes, our emotions don't let us make the most rational decisions, "
this chapter in a nutshell: <3
Chapter 53: Chapter 53
Chapter Text
August 2016
LYDIA BRANWELL IS MORE INTIMIDATING THAN MAYA WOULD'VE GIVEN HER CREDIT FOR.
The Shadowhunter stares her down, blonde and prim, as Maya slowly shuts the office door behind her. Her soft footfalls are the only sound in the room, making her way over to the envoy's desk before crossing her arms in front of her chest, fingernails nervously tapping against her arm.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Maya mutters, fidgeting with the edge of her top. It's been a day since the whole altercation with Simon but the nervous energy still runs through her veins, making her jumpy and antsy at the very moment she's supposed to appear calm.
"Sit down, " Lydia gestures, her eyes flitting to the chair in front of her. Maya gingerly drags out the plush armchair, doing as the Shadowhunter says. Her fingers run over the rough denim of her jeans, trying to find something, anything to keep her grounded so she doesn't spiral again, "So, " The Shadowhunter sighs, taking a seat at her own desk, "Tell me. How have you found your time at the Institute so far?"
"Um . . . fine, I guess?" Maya answers, her brows furrowing in confusion.
" 'Fine' " Lydia muses, looking down at a file on her desk, "Interesting choice of words."
"What exactly were you expecting me to say?" Maya questions, raising an eyebrow.
"I wanted an answer as to why a warlock with zero defence training and no demon-slaying experience suddenly became involved in a mission that discovered Valentine's daughter hiding in New York, " Lydia's eyes bore into hers, not accusing or analytical, but compelling, as though she's holding the soul-sword to Maya's brain and carving the truth from her mind.
"Same as what everyone else's probably told you, " Maya shrugs, trying her best not to appear nervous. Any sign of fidgeting or stumbling over her words is another reason for Lydia Branwell to doubt her loyalty - and heaven knows she'll have to work twice as hard to earn the trust that Isabelle and Alec have had since birth, "Izzy, Alec and Jace asked me for help on a case. I was able to liaise with Magnus to gain entrance into Pandemonium. Then we found Clarissa Fairchild and as I'm sure you've read in the reports thus far, things spiralled from there, "
"They could've just spoken with Magnus directly, " Lydia interjects, "Why did you have to be the intermediary?"
"Magnus doesn't trust Shadowhunters — " Maya starts, but the Shadowhunter interrupts her.
"Yet he has a close friendship with your mother, Nandini, who has been conveniently absent from the picture during this entire debacle, " Lydia clicks her tongue, which sets off something in Maya's chest.
"Because unlike most of you, " Maya snaps, her patience thinning, "My mother doesn't use arcane laws to further alienate an already-marginalized group of people, "
Lydia's eyes flash and Maya instantly regrets her words; She takes the admission as an opening, "So you harbor resentment against the Nephilim because we're doing our duty by protecting humans?"
"I never said that, "
"You implied it, "
"The Clave uses the Accords as an excuse to remain detached from Downworld issues, " Maya sighs, frustrated, "If it somehow came about that the blood trade was happening mainly at Pandemonium, Magnus would've been held solely accountable for not using his ownership of the club to stop it. He would have been thrown into the Gard instead of the ringleaders. I didn't want to let that happen, so I agreed to let my friends into the club to bust the ring, "
"Two birds with one stone, " Lydia quips, "Interesting. But that still doesn't explain why you've stuck with them thus far. You could've just left after the business at the club had ended. Why didn't you?"
"You know why" Maya scoffs, "Hodge already saw me sneak out with the three of them. He knows I was involved, and the Clave would've connected the dots soon enough,"
"Out of everyone who's involved in this mess, you have the most to lose, " Lydia tuts, tapping her fingernails on the wooden table beneath her; Her eyes bore into Maya’s once more, "A high-ranking mother, a scholarship at a prestigious boarding school, a circle of powerful friends and even more powerful family, a nice little loft a few blocks away. You could've asked the Subramanians to pull some strings from Mumbai. Said the word, and you could've been withdrawn much sooner, " She leans closer to Maya, and the warlock resists the urge to shrink back, struggling to keep her eyes level with the Shadowhunter's, "You and I both know that Valentine’s threat to your life is much greater than what he poses to the rest of us Nephilim. There is no reason as to why you should be carrying on with this foolish charade when your neck has the most potential to get snapped by the Circle, "
"You think I have an ulterior motive?" Maya raises an eyebrow. Her gaze is challenging, burning into Lydia's with the same force and intensity. Something sharp simmers in her blood, an undercurrent of anger and frustration. She's tired, so fucking tired, from last night and from the whirlwind of chaos her summer has been so far. Yet at the same time, the fire in her blood grounds her, makes her feel awake in ways she hasn't in a very, very, long time.
"I can't think of a logical reason as to why you wouldn't, " Lydia shrugs, casually, "Maybe the entire reason you're playing into this spiral is because you have something to gain from it. Riches, rank, respect, power, " The Shadowhunter raises a cool eyebrow, "A lover on the other side, perhaps?"
Something physically snaps in Maya at her words, and she suddenly feels choking anger rising up her throat. The pent up frustration and rage roars higher inside her as her sharp gaze bores into the Branwell heirs, and it's a great effort not to reach across the desk and yank her prim blonde ponytail until she screams the same way the Downworlders being tortured for information in the Institute's dungeons do.
"Alright then, " Maya laughs, the sound brittle and hollow, "Let’s drop the fucking pretense, as you say. You're right. I have nothing to gain in this mess and absolutely everything to lose, " She narrows her gaze into the Shadowhunter's eyes, "I'm no stranger to death and chaos, hell, it's come with existing as what I am for my entire life. I've been tortured by Death Eaters and almost dragged into hell by my own father. I've seen innocent people die for no reason other than the fact that they were a pawn in someone else's game, " Her throat tightens at the mention of Cedric and Sirius, both memories starting to sting behind her eyes, but she pushes forward through the rawness of it all, forcing the tears back inside her eyes, "My mother risks her life every day to do what you all do - protect humans from the horrors of rogue demons and evils alike. She's worked hard to give me the life she never had, as you mentioned earlier. But you were wrong about one thing, "
"And that is?" Lydia scoffs, looking slightly amused at the fire in Maya's words.
"I don't care about what I have to lose as long as Valentine never wins, " Maya glares directly into Lydia's green eyes, hoping she feels the burn of her gaze, "If he lights me up while he razes down the Shadow world, so be it. But I will never let a single flame touch anyone I love. Even if that means I have to jump into the goddamn campfire myself, "
There's a moment where Lydia's gaze softens and Maya startles, a moment where the pressure in her chest eases and a soft smile plays at the Shadowhunter's lips. But as soon as it came, the vulnerability vanishes and a thoughtful smirk spreads across Lydia's face, her jade spheres hardening as she meets Maya's eyes once more, "How noble of you, "
"Still going to order me to pack my things and book it?" Maya raises an eyebrow, scanning Lydia's tall frame.
"No, " The Shadowhunter rolls her eyes, "But you're free to leave my office if you wish, "
Maya wonders if Lydia Branwell's ego is immovable as her superiority once she slams the door behind her.
Maryse Lightwood feels like her world is crumbling to pieces.
First, they get reports of unsanctioned missions from the Clave. Good. Great. An irresponsible move, but a manageable one nonetheless. Then, she receives word that her children have involved Downworlders in their efforts to curb an illegal blood trade, roping in none other than Maya Rajesh in order to coax Magnus Bane into helping them. Not so great, but it could be worse. Sure, Maya just broke the International Statue of Secrecy by breaking into the Department of Mysteries with her wizard friends, but she managed to get many dangerous Death Eaters imprisoned. Kid's interesting, but she's somewhat responsible. Then their reputation with the Clave blows up in their face while Valentine's daughter breaks even more rules and sends their years of good standing into a cesspit of chaos.
In other words, this is not the Thursday she expected, or wanted, but it's the Thursday she needs to clean up.
Her plum stilettos balance on the edge of the desk, sharp and sleek as she pushes back her dark hair, the silky strands falling haphazardly down her back. Maryse takes a sip of wine from the delicate glass in her hand, savoring the bitter notes as the red liquid swishes around in the delicate apparatus. She laughs, softly, a mixture of despair and exasperation as her head leans on the back of her chair.
The irony of this entire situation is the sweetest bit, despite the raging chaos and death of the world around her, the proverbial cherry on top of Robert's infidelity is what makes her feel the slightest bit sane.
Their union was one of partnership rather than love, an alliance forged from mutual ambition and relentlessness. In their world, the Clave's authority had seemed futile in the face of Valentine's new regime, a baseless and arcane way to keep mundanes safe while limiting the power of Shadowhunters. Maryse and Robert, then two fiery teenagers, had sought each other out, aware of the contract between their families that was still on the drawing board. They'd banded together for the next few years, determined to blaze through the incompetence of the Nephilim while earning new heights of glory for themselves. Love and lust had tied them together, the heady concoction creating rose-colored lenses that softened Maryse at the edges. Made her believe that maybe, she wasn't destined to be alone after all. So much so that even after the Circle fell, she clung to her boyfriend (soon-to-be fiancee) like a second skin, naively believing that maybe they could mold the ashes of their dreams into pillars that would hold up the efforts of a new generation.
Looking back at it all now, she should've burnt the engagement ring too.
The truth is, she's questioned her marriage ever since Nandini Subramanian stepped foot back into the Institute with a little girl on her hip. The news of a tragic car accident had reached her ears months earlier, but it hadn't really sunk in until the young, unmarked Shadowhunter had walked through the door, grief lining her aquiline eyes as a raven-haired toddler clung to her leather jacket. Even with their strained relations, Nandini could tell that the loss was tearing her apart, ravaging her from the inside. Even though she didn't say it, the fragments of her shattered heart hung around her like a mirrorball, nursing wounds that had barely gotten a chance to heal since his death as she caused them in rogue demons and downworlders who tried to harm the city's Mundanes.
Arjun Desai had been the love of Nandini's then-short life, a brief glimpse of sunlight and sweetness into what had otherwise been a dark and stifling existence. Maryse had wondered how someone could fall in so deeply without a parachute, take a reckless chance at love only to find it ripped away from you and left to pick up the pieces. Nandini Subramanian had risked everything to be with the young wizard, throwing away her foster family, security, money, a place at Oxford Medical School, to run away with the one person who her heart skipped a beat for. And four years later she was alone once more, a shattered heart in her chest and a five-year-old clinging to her arms, mourning the loss of her first love as well as the promise of a life that came with it. Yet as they rekindled their long-fraught friendship, Maryse doesn't remember seeing an ounce of regret on Nandini's face at her brief marriage to the Desai wizard. Even though his death crushed her heart into dust, she'd never complained about molding it back together, slowly putting the loss behind her as the years passed and eventually, putting herself out there again.
She's ashamed to admit how much that stung.
Nandini Subramanian is golden sunlight and bubbling champagne. She's warm and vibrant and sweet and everything good in the world combined and molded into a five-foot-nine pain in the ass. She's beautiful with her long chocolate waves and sparkling jade eyes, more beautiful than Maryse thought someone could ever be (and that says something, considering she's surrounded by angel-blooded Nephilim all the time). She's kind and fierce and strong and brave and everything Maryse wants and wishes she could be. But she's also a staunch supporter of Downworlders and has a daughter that's now on the verge of breaking numerous Accords. Nandini is a smart, diplomatic leader, the perfect fit for her role as the director of the Institute's strategy wing. But she's also a target for the Clave's not-so-secret resentment, resentment that would have cost her a stable job and livelihood at the Institute if Maryse hadn't deflected their vitriol numerous times. No matter how hard she works, how many criminals she takes down or how many lives she saves, Nandini will never earn their full trust. To them, she's a walking PR hazard, an example of how someone could rise above their bigotry and be so accomplished despite the barriers put forth in front of her.
And now, as she grinds away in Rio, taking down a group of violent Seelie vigilantes from the inside, Maryse wonders if things will change with her return. If Nandini will bring sense and stability back to New York with her. There's always been an undercurrent of tension between them between all the pleasantries, a crackling force in the air that erupts every time their fingertips so much as brush against each other. There's nights where they've dozed off in front of Nandini's flat screen, Friends playing in the background as Nandini's head dozes on her shoulder, her light snoring amusing yet endearing all at once. There's been chaotic mornings dropping their kids off at school and the academy, laughing at their antics during sleepovers and vacations and birthday parties.
And yet, despite it all, Maryse feels trepidation about the future. As if she can sense Nandini's rage from the other side of the world, anger at her inability to stop Maya from being pulled into the thick of it all. Resentment at her staunch pro-Nephilim stance, at her ruthless drive to succeed that's pushed her children forward thus far, an ambition to keep up the Lightwood name no matter the cost.
So as she downs the rest of her wine and leans back in her chair, fingers playing with the stem of the crystal glass, Maryse idly wonders what would've happened that rainy night in Rio if she hadn't left. If she'd stayed in Nandini's warm, safe embrace instead of resigning herself to the dark horrors of the Shadow world - and now throwing her daughter headfirst into them.
"Say what you want about warlocks, " Izzy mutters to Maya, later, as they watch Magnus put up protective wards, his rings glittering against the bright sparks of magic that escape his fingertips, "But they sure have better fashion sense than the rest of the population, "
"He'd be happy to give you a few pointers, " Maya snorts, eyeing Magnus's flamboyant but elegant maroon suit. Her voice drops as she glances at the Shadowhunter, "But I can't believe what I heard. How the fuck did a Forsaken get into the Institute while we were gone?"
"I don't know, " Izzy sighs, her brows furrowing, "It was so strange. When I did the biopsy, all the tests came back so weird. Seelie blood with angel properties? I didn't even think that was possible, "
"We didn't think Valentine crawling back from the deep pits of death was possible either, " Maya reminds her, "I wonder how it managed to get past the wards, though."
"That's what I was thinking as well, " Izzy bites her bottom lip, concentrating in thought. She lets out a relieved exhale, "Thank the Angel Hodge managed to kill it. Alec got the worst of the injuries, though, "
"Ugh, " Maya grimaces, glancing at the bandage on his arm. The tall Shadowhunter stands with his father, both of them observing Magnus's work, though Alec's eyes linger more on the veins in his forearms than the magic bursting from his fingertips, "For someone so concerned with the preservation of Angel blood, Valentine sure doesn't have any issues with attacking Shadowhunters once we managed to get the cup, "
"Hypocrite, " Izzy rolls her eyes, "Speaking of egotistical idiots, how's that blond flame of yours holding up?" Her eyes flicker with a teasing gleam as she nudges Maya, "Wedding bells ringing already?"
"Why are you so obsessed with my love life?" Maya groans, an embarrassed flush spreading over her face.
"Just shocked that you have one, " Izzy snickers, "You've practically repelled boys all your life and yet, you somehow managed to bag the richest, blondest asshole in England, "
"I haven't bagged him, " Maya scoffs, "We're just talking. That's it,"
"You sure about that?" Izzy gives her a pointed look.
"Are the wards solid now?" Robert interrupts their charade, questioning Magnus; His face flashes with brief anxiety, "Nothing will get through?"
"Even my magic has limits, " Magnus reminds him, "The wards won’t hold off that Forsaken attack. But my protections will slow them down."
Robert looks visibly relieved, "Extra time is priceless."
"Say that after you get my bill." Magnus raises his eyebrows, sticking the wards in place with a flamboyant snap of his fingers.
Robert remains unamused, scratching his bald head, "Lydia will take care of that."
As he walks away, Magnus turns to Alec, something in his eyes softening as he smiles up at the taller Shadowhunter, "A Forsaken wound often needs a little warlock TLC. May I?, " He reaches out for Alec, "Uh, free of charge."
Alec immediately jerks back from his grasp, face white as his tense voice blurts out, "It’s okay. I’m fine."
The warlock looks aghast, "If anything were to happen to you–"
"Magnus. I’m good, " Alec interrupts; Something in his sapphire hues sparks as he looks around the institute, "All right? I gotta–"
"Go? Of course, " Magnus chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, "You’re a busy man. And I should find this Lydia person. Payment upfront is just smart business. Where might I find her?" He looks up at Alec expectantly.
"I haven’t seen her, " Alec replies curtly, as he walks away, noticeably avoiding eye contact with Magnus, "But if I do, I’ll send her your way."
As Alec walks from the scene, leaving a hurt Magnus behind, the Institute doors open as a familiar long-haired Seelie slips through them. A look of surprise flashes across Isabelle's face, and she runs up to him, "Meliorn? What are you doing here?"
He shrugs, "The Clave called me in for some kind of conference."
Izzy immediately wraps him in a bear hug, sighing happily as she smiles up at him, "I’m so happy to see you."
"Spare me, " He pushes her back, offended, "Your fire message clearly stated you never wanted to see me again."
"What?" Maya starts, shocked.
"My family–" Isabelle begins, but Meliorn interrupts her.
"Despises Downworlders?" Meliorn scoffs, an angry gleam in his eye, "That’s common knowledge."
"That’s not true, " Isabelle protests, glaring at him, "And even if it were, I’m not like that."
"I’m not here to talk about us, " He sighs, looking over his shoulder as a familiar green-eyed, blonde-haired Shadowhunter approaches them, "I believe that’s your Clave envoy."
"Isabelle, please step aside, " Lydia walks up to them with two guards in tow, her tone business-like and impersonal, "Meliorn, the Clave has ordered that you be placed under arrest."
"What?" The Seelie looks utterly bewildered as the guards step behind him, dragging his arms behind his back.
"What for?" Izzy questions, looking aghast.
"Soliciting state secrets from a Shadowhunter on behalf of Valentine Morgenstern, " Lydia nods at the men holding Meliorn, "Guards."
Maya gasps as the guards drag a protesting Meliorn away, his arms cuffed tightly behind his back. Isabelle snarls, rage flaring in her chocolate hues, "Have you lost your mind?"
"Me?" Lydia snorts, derisively, "You’re lucky you weren’t arrested along with him."
"What are you talking about?" Izzy scoffs.
Lydia's expression is stony as she speaks, "It’s our understanding that your long-standing relationship with the Seelie, Meliorn, may have led to the disclosure of state secrets."
"What? No!, " Isabelle protests, "Meliorn told me how to get into the Hotel DuMort so that we could save a mundane."
"And you told him nothing in return?" Lydia raises a mocking eyebrow, "Nobody is blaming you for the attack. Meliorn and the Seelies were likely working with Valentine all along."
"Valentine has been murdering Downworlders and draining their bodies for months, " Isabelle snaps, "He probably killed those Seelie scouts and used their blood–"
Lydia interrupts her, "Do you have proof?"
"Do you?" Izzy snaps.
"I have orders. That’s all, " Lydia sighs, her expression impassive, "I never wanted any of this."
"I don’t believe you for a second." Izzy scoffs.
"She calls Meliorn in and arrests him, then acts like it’s all out of her hands!, " Isabelle complains later, as they congregate on the training floor. Alec's in the middle of training, the sounds of his fist hitting the punching bag making his sister cringe and look at him with concern, "You’re gonna hurt yourself."
Alec winces, slightly, holding his arm as he draws his fist back from the bag, "I’m fine, Izzy. Besides, " He sighs, "It was the Clave that gave the order, not Lydia."
"Are you sure about that?" Izzy raises a questioning eyebrow.
Maya suddenly sees Jace walk up the steps of the floor, runes peeking out from the collar of his black shirt as he pushes back his light hair. His brows furrow as he notices the bandage around Alec's arm, "Hey. You all right?"
"I’m fine." Alec rolls his eyes, looking visibly uncomfortable.
"I just spoke to Robert and Maryse, " Jace sighs, his tone grave, "They’re being sent back to Idris."
"What?" Izzy spits out, looking utterly shocked.
"Didn't they get here, like, two weeks ago?" Maya questions.
"Yeah, " Jace sighs, his expression tense, "There's nothing we can do, "
Isabelle scoffs derisively, turning to her brother, "Another 'order' from Lydia?"
"Who’s Lydia?" Jace looks utterly confused; Maya then realizes that he's been running around New York with Clary during this whole mess, unaware of the chaos inside their home base.
"She’s in charge of the Institute." Izzy scoffs.
"She’s what?" Jace raises his eyebrows in shock.
"Temporarily." Alec clarifies.
"You know that doesn't make it sound any better, right?" Maya narrows her eyes at him.
"And now she’s convinced the Clave that Mom and Dad aren’t doing their job?" Izzy snaps, "Incredible. Just what we needed, "
"Maybe they aren’t, " Alec tries, "The Institute was under their control when the Forsaken got in."
"What are you talking about?" Jace scoffs.
"Mom and Dad were members of the Circle." Alec snaps.
"What?" Izzy looks utterly shocked, "They don’t have Circle runes."
"That’s because they made a deal with the Clave prior to the Uprising, " Alec snaps, his tone getting angrier as he continues, "In exchange for their cooperation, they were pardoned."
"You’re questioning their loyalty?" Izzy scoffs.
"I mean-" Maya starts but Jace glares at her.
"Valentine is back. The Circle is rising. They’re under suspicion." Alec sighs.
"No way, " Jace scoffs, "Robert and Maryse took me in. They raised me as one of their own. I know what kind of people they are."
"Are you sure?" Alec laughs, the sound hollow as betrayal shines in his blue eyes, "They lied to us. For years, they’ve been telling us how to act. That we have to 'uphold the Lightwood name'. " He scoffs, looking up at the ceiling, "Well, they’re the ones who tarnished it. They’re hypocrites."
Just then, with her impeccable timing, Lydia walks up to them, her face brightening as she spots Jace, extending her hand, "You must be Jace Wayland. Lydia Branwell. You’re quite the legend back in Idris."
Jace doesn't take her hand, "Don’t believe everything you hear."
Lydia gives Alec an expectant glance, "Did you tell them?"
"Tell us what?" Izzy questions.
"Lydia and I are engaged," Alec states, casually, as though he's talking about the weather.
"We’re getting married." The blonde clarifies as Maya's heart drops into her stomach.
There's a pregnant pause in which Maya doubts the words she heard. Lydia and Alec? No way. She's probably hallucinating, what, with all the sleep deprivation over the past few weeks. It's just her subconscious making things up. Right. Right?!
"You’re not serious, " Jace's words cement Maya's reality as he looks up at his parabatai in utter bewilderment.
"You were supposed to say 'no', " Izzy snaps. There are traces of tears in her eyes, but she swallows, hard, glaring up indignantly at her brother, "It’s your life to ruin." She scoffs, storming away before Maya can catch up with her.
"Not sure what to say." Jace sighs, as Lydia leaves the scene, called off by one of her guards.
"How about 'none of this matters'?" Alec rolls his eyes, "We have to stop Valentine."
"Finally, " Jace snaps, glaring at a stone-faced Alec, "Something we agree on."
"How could you?" Maya looks up at him, her head spinning with all the new information, "Do you even know what kind of person she is?"
"A person who actually has common sense, " Alec snaps, looking down at her, "She's going to help make things right, "
"By imprisoning Downworlders without reason?" Maya scoffs, "This is idiotic, and we both know it, Alec."
Something in Alec's eyes shifts, and he glares down at her, "You want to know what's idiotic?" He snaps, "The fact that you're going along with whatever the hell this is. You're supporting Jace and Clary's every move, no matter how irrational they are. All because, what? You want to feel included? Finally jumping off buildings and between skyscrapers like you've always dreamed of?" He laughs, the sound patronizing and sharp, "Well, good news, Maya. You've finally thrown yourself, and the Institute into a mess we'll never be able to get out of. Are you happy now?"
Every word stabs into Maya's chest until she feels as though her heart is being ripped apart, little knives boring into her ribs as her breath catches. The Shadowhunter in front of her suddenly seems like a stranger; as if there are two Alecs staring back at her, the grumpy but caring older brother-like figure who's always looked out for her, and the ruthless, bigoted Shadowhunter who's just patronized her every move and measure because he wants to cuff himself to a bitchy envoy who looks like she tortures sorority sisters for a living.
"This isn't you, " Maya swallows, hard, fighting to keep the tears behind her eyes at bay. She releases a shaky exhale, defiantly glaring back at him; Her voice drops, "You and I both know that you'll never be happy with her, Alec. Izzy was right, " Maya scoffs, "It is your life to ruin. Just don't expect me to speak to you again when it all falls apart, "
Alec's expression fractures for a second; he looks as though her words have genuinely cut deep, hurt a part of him that he doesn't usually show. Then just as soon as it appeared, the vulnerable mask is gone, and his hard expression snaps back into place, "Fine."
Maya refuses to make eye contact with him as they watch Meliorn getting interrogated from the other side of the glass.
"This is insane, " Izzy scoffs, her arms crossed in front of her, "We have to put a stop to this."
"Yeah, well, enjoy Portaling back to Idris with Mom and Dad." Alec rolls his eyes.
"Meliorn is here because of me." Guilt pervades Izzy's voice.
"There's no way you could've known, Izzy, " Maya sighs, wrapping her arm around the Shadowhunter. Izzy thankfully leans into her.
"Alec’s right, " Jace sighs, "There’s nothing we can do to stop this interrogation."
"You’re on Alec’s side now?" Izzy looks at him incredulously.
"We swore to protect each other, " Alec scoffs, "Of course he’s on my side."
"I’m not picking sides. Jace Wayland is Switzerland, " Jace rolls his eyes, focusing on the scene in front of them, "We have got to find Valentine. Let’s let this play out, Izzy. Meliorn might have some important information."
"Alright then, " Maya replies, uneasily. Izzy shoots her a forlorn look.
"Forensics don’t lie, " Lydia's sharp voice booms through the monitor, making a handcuffed Meliorn jump from his spot on the table, "Tell me what you know about the blood in the Forsaken."
"Have you considered that the blood in the Forsaken came from our dead scouts?, " The Seelie scoffs, "Scouts sent to help you hunt for Valentine. Why do you think we would side with a murderer?"
"Seelies always play both sides." Lydia's tone is accusing.
"You should talk to your own people about playing sides." Meliorn snaps.
"Excuse me?" Lydia scoffs.
"You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?" Meliorn laughs, derisively, "If only Shadowhunters had a better relationship with us, Downworlders, you’d know that Valentine’s daughter has the Cup."
"Oh, fuck, " Maya swears. Jace groans, burying his face in his hands.
"Still think we should let this play out?" Izzy scoffs.
As Alec defuses the situation, and Jace tries to stop Raj and Lydia from searching for the Cup in Clary's room, (and unceremoniously going through her bras) Maya makes a show of taking a breath of fresh air outside, pulling out her phone as soon as she's a safe distance from the Institute. She immediately dials Clary's number, the tone ringing for a few seconds before the redhead picks up.
"Where the fuck are you?" Maya hisses into the phone, "Things have gone to hell here, "
"I'm at Luke's with Simon. He's . . . . . acclimating, " Clary sighs, "What's going on?"
"The Clave knows you have the Cup, " Maya sighs.
"What?!" Clary shrieks, "How?"
"Not important, " Maya rolls her eyes, too tired to rehash the entire situation once more, "Look, you need to stay out of sight. The Clave's probably already tracking you and if they find a bloodthirsty Simon, you'll be dead. Draw a blocking rune on yourself and don't cause any trouble, "
"What the hell is a blocking rune?! " Clary protests.
"I'll send you a picture, " Maya sighs, "Be careful. And stay hidden, "
"Alright, " Clary sighs, "See you later, "
"Hopefully, " Maya mutters, as she cuts the call and texts Clary the picture. She stuffs her phone back into her pocket, looking around her to make sure no one's watching as she silently slips back into the Institute. By then, they've taken Meliorn out of interrogation, the Seelie being escorted by guards as Izzy marches up to Lydia, her heels angrily clicking on the marble Institute floor.
"Where are you taking him?" She demands.
"To a holding cell, " Lydia states, plainly, "And a guard unit will transport him to the Silent Brothers."
"The Silent Brothers?!" Maya sputters.
"You can’t do that, " Izzy snaps.
"It’s not our decision, Isabelle, " Alec sighs, looking forlorn, "The Clave made the order."
"That could be a death sentence to a Downworlder." Jace protests.
"Are you trying to start a war with them?" Izzy scoffs, derisively, "Meliorn’s told you everything he knows."
"You don’t know that. Maybe we haven’t asked the right questions, " Lydia glances at Meliorn, "Seelies often skirt the truth. If he has information on another terrorist attack, it is our responsibility to get it."
"Let me talk to him." Izzy tries.
Lydia rolls her eyes, "That wasn’t exactly helpful in the past."
"But he may not know anything, " Jace turns to his parabati, desperate, "Alec, this is going too far."
Alec looks straight ahead, eyes utterly impassive to the scene in front of him, "We don’t have a choice."
"And neither do we." Jace retorts, but it falls on deaf ears as Izzy storms away, her older brother running behind her. He pulls Maya to the side as Meliorn is escorted away by Lydia and the guards, a determined gleam in his eyes, "Give Magnus a call, will you?"
"Jace, come on, " Maya groans, "He's going to murder us if we summon him one more time, "
"No he won't, " Jace sighs. He smiles, "I have a plan, "
"Let me get this straight, " Magnus scoffs, as the four of them crowd into a hidden alcove, "You need Alec’s stele to open the safe, and you want me to steal it from him?"
"We prefer the word borrow, " Jace clarifies.
"Without his knowledge," Izzy adds.
"I think that was implied, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"No!" Magnus snaps, glaring at the three of them, "No can do. Not happening."
"Magnus, ever since Alec found out our parents were in the Circle, he’s been messed up, " Jace tries, exhausted, "He can’t see the big picture."
"If the Clave is willing to subject Meliorn to the Silent Brothers, if they’re willing to go this far, " Izzy spits, dark eyes aflame, "What do you think will happen if they get the Cup? This affects everyone."
"Help us get into that safe, get the Cup. " Jace pleads, "Help us stop this."
There's a pause for a split second, then Magnus lets out a loud groan, running a hand through his hair, "You’re both going to owe me. I’m talking 14th century. Gold, rubies… definitely diamonds, " He looks Jace straight in the eye, "And Alec can never know."
"That’s a given." Jace promises, his heterochromic eyes sharp.
"If we’re going to do this, there’s no turning back, " Magnus gives them all a wary look, then turns to Maya, "A word?"
As Jace and Izzy walk off (presumably to meet the warlock's extravagant demands), Magnus pulls her to the side, a look of concern in his eyes, "Are you alright with this?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Maya's brows furrow in confusion. She sighs, "It's unconventional . . . but a Seelie being subjected to the Soul Sword doesn't exactly go with the laws of nature either, "
"I meant with the current state of affairs, " Magnus's gaze is questioning, "Did Branwell interrogate you?"
"Yeah, why?" Maya crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling defensive.
"Nephilim-Downworld relations are in absolute pandemonium. It's like the Cold War all over again, " Magnus sighs, "I just don't want to give the Institute a reason to use you as a scapegoat."
"They wouldn't, " Maya rolls her eyes, "There's absolutely nothing wrong they can pin on me."
"Haven't you broken almost all of the Clave rules at this point?"
"I've done no worse than Jace or Izzy, " Maya sighs, "Magnus, this has gotten incredibly out of hand. Justice is one thing, but throwing an innocent Downworlder to the Silent Brothers is an utter abuse of power. I can't stand by and let that happen, "
"Tensions are at the brink of war right now, " Magnus reminds her, "I just want to make sure that you know what you're getting into, "
"I do, " Maya sighs, "How're you going to get Alec's stele?"
"I'll find a way, " Magnus winks.
"Ew." Maya grimaces, "Please be . . sanitary. Watching you two canoodling is traumatizing enough for me, "
"I'm affronted you would even think that of me, " Magnus playfully rolls his eyes when he speaks, but his tone soon takes an edge, "Besides, he's a taken man now."
"Oh, right." Maya swallows, a lump in her throat at the reminder of their earlier conversation, "How could I forget?"
"You alright?" Magnus places a concerned hand on her shoulder.
"I'm fine, " Maya shoves the earlier interaction to the back of her mind, knowing that she can't afford to be distracted during her current predicament, "I just . . . I want to know if I'm doing the right thing, "
"You're taking a huge risk, but you are, " Something akin to pride shines in Magnus's eyes. He brushes a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, "Don't let them take you for granted. Those kids would be utterly lost without you."
"I'll remember that when Meliorn's not having his brain cut open with the soul sword, " Maya clears her throat, raising her eyebrows expectantly, "Shall we?"
After Magnus manages to - mysteriously - procure the stele and Jace grabs the Cup unnoticed, the two of them sneak into the armory with Izzy in tow, arming themselves with weapons for the journey ahead.
"Might wanna pick up the pace, " Jace remarks, glancing at Izzy methodically wrapping her whip around her wrist.
"Jace, come on." Maya groans, quietly, strapping her knives to the holster around her waist, "Leave her be, "
"You do not wanna be on my bad side right now." Izzy snaps at him, letting go of the whip and handing Maya another knife.
"Are you gonna be okay?" He questions, softly.
"The whole world is turning upside down." She mutters, pushing a hand through her hair, "Simon turned into a vampire. Now Meliorn might die because of some–"
"It’s not anything you did, " Jace insists, "They just put a bunch of unrelated facts together, and came up with a big lie."
"There's no evidence to prove that he worked for Valentine, " Maya reminds her, "They can't take him to court if we break him out,"
Izzy sighs, frustrated, "I wish that made me feel better."
Quite conveniently, Hodge walks up to them, a suspicious expression on his face as his muscular arms cross over his chest. The three of them stare at him like deer caught in headlights, "Where do you think you’re going?"
"Starbucks! " Maya blurts out, nervously.
"Yeah, we were just going to get cake pops, " Jace chimes in, nodding, "Late night cravings, y'know?"
"Sure, " Hodge scoffs, glaring at the three of them, " Well cut your plans short. It’s a very dangerous time, and no one is supposed to leave the premises without express orders."
Isabelle tries to reason with him, "Hodge, we were just about to–"
"Lie to me?" Hodge raises his blond eyebrows.
"Clary needs us, Hodge." Jace tries, "The Clave is looking for her. She could be in serious danger."
Hodge sighs, regarding them for a moment, "Well, in that case-" He looks around them, "I’d make a timely exit before anyone of importance notices you’re gone."
"We won’t forget this." Jace gives him a curt nod before the three of them slip out of the Institute doors and into the cold night.
Half an hour later, after taking many trains and almost getting run over on the sidewalk, they arrive outside the Hotel Du Mort on Gansevoort Street. The tall building looks as imposing as ever in the dark New York night around them, but the atmosphere is made less scary by the three people waiting out there for them; a relieved Clary, a stoic-as-ever Luke and a pale Simon who looks considerably less dead than he was half a day ago.
"Hey, " Jace immediately wraps the redhead in a hug, "Thank God you’re okay. So-" He pulls back, glancing at the vampire lair in front of him, arms still wrapped around her waist, "This is your safe hideout, huh?"
Clary frowns, giving him a puzzled look, "Well, you think the Clave was gonna look here?"
"Can we please focus on the matter at hand?" Izzy sighs, her tone having an anxious lilt to it as she rubs her arms, "Unless no one here cares that the Clave is planning on murdering Meliorn."
"What?!" Clary and Simon yell at the same time.
"They think Meliorn has more information on Valentine and the attack than he’s saying." Jace adds.
"And now he's being taken to the Silent Brothers, " Maya finishes.
"We have to stop them!" Clary cries, looking pale.
"That’s the plan, Clary. " Jace grins, "Rescue and recovery."
"We get him from the guards, in and out, no one gets hurt." Izzy adds, a determined glint in her eyes.
"You want us to go up against the Silent Brothers, and an elite Shadowhunter guard unit?" Clary raises her eyebrows in skepticism.
"Without any backup?" Luke questions.
"Pretty much sums it up, yeah." Jace shrugs.
"The more you keep talking, the less faith I have in this plan." Maya rolls her eyes.
"Is Alec coming?" Clary questions.
Jace and Izzy give each other an uncomfortable look before the blond mutters, "No. Not this time."
"If they’re doing this to Seelies, no Downworlder is safe, " Clary sighs, "But we can’t go in alone, not if we don’t want to be detected."
"My pack will track the unit, create a distraction." Luke assures her.
"I would suggest vampires, but I doubt they’ll cooperate." Simon adds.
Jace nods, "As much as I hate to agree with Simon, vamps aren’t exactly team players."
"Let me talk to Raphael, " Clary bites her bottom lip, brow furrowed in thought, "I think I can persuade him."
Maya shifts, nervously, as the vampires crowd around them inside the Hotel Du Mort. The place is opulent, lined with maroon carpet and gold fixtures. It's the kind of establishment that could be mistaken for a mobster's den, the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne hanging in the air. But oddly (and thankfully) there are no blood splatters on the walls or floor, making their visit - and sparing her eyesight - a lot easier.
"We’re offering an alliance with the Seelies." Clary addresses the horde.
"And the werewolves." Luke adds.
"Why should we believe you?" Raphael scoffs, twirling a whiskey glass in his hand, "You killed our people. You violated our home."
"You kidnapped a mundane, remember?" Jace raises his eyebrows.
"That was me." Simon adds, nervously; Maya almost laughs.
"Look, you were just following Camille’s orders. She violated the Accords." Clary steps closer to him, a hopeful expression on her face, "You are a different kind of leader. We are a new generation of Shadowhunters. We believe everyone can be equal." She gives Maya a soft smile, before turning back to Raphael, "But we have to work together to stop Valentine. And to ensure the Clave doesn’t repeat past mistakes. What do you say?"
Raphael sighs, taking a glance at his clan, "This decision requires a consensus."
"I vote yes." Simon immediately raises his hand.
The vampire smirks, "Well, well, well, baby’s first words."
Simon rolls his eyes, "Don’t make me regret them."
"If our newest member pledges his loyalty to his new leader and joins our clan, we’ll all stand beside you." Raphael extends his hand in a show of an offer.
"Oh, come on, Raphael, " Maya groans, putting her face in her hands.
"Simon’s not a pawn." Clary snaps at him.
There's a beat before Simon sighs, turning to his best friend, "No, I’m not." He then looks Raphael in the eye, tone anxious yet determined, "But I accept your deal."
"Simon, what are you doing?" Clary gives him a bewildered look.
"Whatever it takes to protect the Downworld, " Simon looks around confidently, "It’s my world now."
"That was fast, " Maya mutters to Clary, her eyes wide with surprise.
"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you get kidnapped twice in the span of a summer, " Jace scoffs as Clary rolls her eyes, "Opens your eyes a bit, "
Raphael fixes Simon with a prideful look, "We're in, "
"This does not look like the City of Bones." Clary mutters, as they walk away from the FDR overpass. The cemetery looks ominous in the darkness, but the horde of vampires and werewolves around them makes Maya feel slightly safer, even as she maintains a tight grip around one of the knives in her jacket.
"This is the Downworlder's entrance." Jace clarifies.
"The City of Bones has a service entrance, " Clary mutters, looking around her appreciatively, "Who knew?"
"I hope I have better luck here than I did last time, " Simon shrugs as Jace rolls his eyes at him, "I’m just saying."
"As long as you don't piss off another species of non-humans, I doubt you'll be kidnapped again, " Maya snorts, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
"Everyone knows what to do?" Clary looks at the crowd behind them expectantly.
"Text when you’re in position." Jace nods at them.
"Stay, " Raphael whistles as Luke starts walking towards them, holding his hand out to stop the werewolf, "Good dog."
"Bite me." Luke rolls his eyes.
"Roll over." Raphael quips.
"Play dead." Luke snaps.
"Boom!" Simon exclaims, fist-bumping Luke. A werewolf bumps into Simon, and although the young vampire remains unbothered, it sets off the entirety of the clan, the other vampires hissing as the werewolves start growling.
"Hey, enough! Enough!" Clary whirls around to face all of them, her tone borderline on rage, "All our lives are at stake! It’s time we put aside our differences, and work together! Tonight we’re all Downworlders. Luke?" The werewolf nods, "Raphael?" Raphael rolls his eyes but nods as well.
The chatter dies down as they continue walking, Simon muttering, "I guess I should expect people to hate me for who I am now, " He shrugs, defeated, "Maybe I’ll get used to it."
"Never get used to it." Clary looks him directly in the eye, raising a ginger brow "You hear me?"
Something warm blooms in Maya's chest as Simon grins, "I like this new you, "
"Let’s do this." Isabelle whirls around, looking like a fiery goddess in the night as she brandishes her whip in one hand.
Her and Simon follow the rest of them into the entrance as Clary grabs Maya's hand, presumably to stay behind with her and Jace. She turns to Maya, "We’re risking everything, aren’t we? Going against the Clave, against the other Shadowhunters…"
"Pretty much, " Maya sighs, a gnawing feeling of uneasiness wrapping her stomach into knots.
"Is it weird for you?" Clary furrows her brows, "Being caught in the middle of this all? "
"Yeah, " Maya admits, shrugging her shoulders, "But, " She gestures to the Downworlders disappearing down the spiral staircase, "At least someone will get to live tonight, "
"If all of us don't die first, " Clary sighs.
"Likely possibility, " Maya mutters, swallowing a lump in her throat. The reality of the situation seems to set in on her and she shivers, rubbing her arms as goosebumps flare on her skin -- from her impending doom or the cold, she doesn't know.
"Valentine’s trying to destroy the world, Clary. We’re trying to protect it." Jace reaches into his jacket, pulling out the Ace of Cups and Magnus's ruby necklace and handing it to Clary, "Before I forget, these belong to you."
"Did Alec give you these?" Clary looks at him curiously.
"Let’s just say this is where they’re safest." Jace's mouth presses into a thin line, "Be careful."
"Don’t worry. I won’t activate it, now that I know how it works." She smiles up at him, "Thank you."
"Thank me if we make it out of this alive." Jace mutters, warily glancing over his shoulder.
"When we make it out." Clary corrects him.
"Right." Jace grins. He pulls them down the staircase, but they end up going in a different, quieter direction than the vampires and werewolves. Maya opens her mouth to question him, but Jace quickly pulls Clary to the side, pulling out her arm and drawing an unidentifiable rune on her skin. Suddenly, Clary squints into the distance, her face rapidly paling, and that's when Maya recognizes the people shrouded in darkness a few hundred yards away - Alec, his face definable in the glow from his seraph blade, and Lydia, her blonde ponytail shimmering in the low light from the weapons from the guards around them.
"Shit" The redhead breathes out in shock.
"Damn it." Jace curses as he activates the same rune on his arm, "Lydia must have sent him"
"Lydia?" Clary gives him a puzzled look.
"Alec’s future wife." Jace rolls his eyes, "Don’t ask."
"Just say the word, and we’ll call the whole thing off." Clary sighs, nervously shifting her weight between her two feet.
"No, there’s no turning back now." Jace states, standing tall, "So whatever happens, follow my lead."
Then, Alec seems to realize that they're surrounded by growling werewolves, the pack having gone ahead of the three of them and loudly voicing their displeasure, "This could be a trap." He motions to the guards, "Secure the perimeter. Do it now."
The guards spread out as Maya, Jace and Clary run closer, the three of them hiding behind a pillar. Raphael, Izzy and Simon are hiding behind a container across from them, but they're invisible from the angle Alec's standing. He has someone next to him, and Maya realizes, with a jolt, that it's Meliorn, several bruises on his face from apparently being manhandled. Alec nods to the remaining guards, "I’ll take Meliorn inside. Just stay here. Nobody gets through."
Izzy gives Maya a look from across the room and she immediately pulls out the gas masks from her bag, handing Clary and Jace theirs before quickly clasping hers over her face. As Raphael and Simon disappear into the shadows behind them, Izzy draws a rune on the smoke bomb in her hand, then throws it into the center of the room. There's a thick fog for a few moments, in which Jace curses and steps on Maya's foot and Clary grabs her arm so that they don't separate. The sounds of a struggle come from a few feet away from them, Izzy, Simon and Raphael ambushing the guards as the fog clears, then slipping away through the back entrance. Alec coughs, rubbing his eyes as he whirls around in shock, all of the guards having disappeared at this point but Meliorn still remains beside him.
"Not too late to turn back." The Seelie coughs, violently, tears streaming down his face from the prior smoke.
"Quiet, " Alec snaps, I won't tell you again, "I won’t tell you again."
Alec leads Meliorn down a dark hallway, the three of them hot on his tail, hiding behind statues and pillars every so often to mask their presence. Then, as Alec draws a rune on a nearby pillar, the entrance to the City of Bones opens once more, this time to the inner chambers, where the Silent brothers are no doubt awaiting them. Jace quickly pushes his parabatai back, stepping in between Alec and Meliorn, thereby blocking the path into the Silent Brothers' quarters.
"Alec." Clary steps out from the shadows behind her, her hands held out in peace.
The Shadowhunter's face drops into one of shock, and he whirls around to face his parabatai, cerulean eyes shining with anger, "You told me you were taking Clary back to the Institute." Alec scoffs, the sound hollow as he glares at Jace, "You lied to me."
Jace fixes him with a stony expression, "I did what needed to be done."
"Alec, the Clave has gone too far." Clary tries, stepping forward, "You have to see that. Please, just let Meliorn go."
"I have my orders." Alec doesn't move an inch.
"You and your damn orders." Clary scoffs, "Who cares about orders?"
"See?" Alec laughs, the sound derisive, "That’s how little you know about being a Shadowhunter. You couldn’t possibly understand–"
"She doesn't understand?" Maya scoffs, stepping forward, "She doesn't understand? Clary may not be a Shadowhunter, but even with no training, she's doing a hell of a better job than you right now, Alec."
"Shut up, " Alec snaps, the words like a slap to Maya's face as she flinches with the weight of them hitting her, "You have no idea what you're talking about, "
"Don't talk to her like that, " Jace scoffs. His face turns apologetic as he steps closer to his parabatai, "I'm sorry, "Jace shoves Alec so hard that he hits the ground, freeing the Seelie from his grasp, "Clary, Meliorn, go, now!"
Clary grabs Meliorn and runs back down the hallway, and Maya is left standing there, watching Jace and Alec struggle against each other. The latter grunts, punching Jace in the stomach so hard his face screws up in pain, "You always broke the rules, but never the law, not until she showed up."
"You’ve had it out for Clary from the start." Jace spits, "And now you’re getting married, Alec? We both know what this is about."
"Oh, do we?" Alec scoffs, "Okay. Why doesn’t the legend, Jace Wayland, tell us what’s it about?"
"It’s about me!" Jace snarls, angrily, "It’s about your feelings. It’s because you’re–"
Alec punches Jace in the head so hard his skull smacks into the pavement and he flips both of them over, pressing the Seraph blade to his neck so hard Jace hisses. The blond laughs, softly, a challenging expression in his eyes as he glares up at his parabatai, "Do it. Do it! I don’t wanna be alive if we’re on different sides, Alec."
Something fractures in Alec's eyes and he swallows, suddenly looking disoriented. Jace takes his opportunity to push him back and hoists himself up, pushing Maya behind him as he extends his hand to Alec, "Come with me. We’ll fight Valentine the right way: together."
"If we do that, we’ll be considered traitors like Mom and Dad."
"I’m begging you, my parabatai, my brother." Jace's voice breaks, and for the first time, Maya sees tears shining in Jace's eyes as he begs "Please, Alec, come with me."
Alec glares up at him, all traces of warmth gone from his face. He looks at Jace's hand, and slaps it away with his own, defiantly glaring up at him, "No."
Later, once they've gotten back to the Hotel DuMort and tended to Meliorn's wounds (as well as dropped Simon off to drink CapriSuns filled with blood and do other creepy vampire shit), Maya and Jace walk beside each other, and she notices the tense set of his shoulders as he pushes his hair back, "So . . " Maya starts, working up the nerve, "Are we going to talk about what happened in the City of Bones?"
"There's nothing to talk about, " Jace looks off into the distance, voice emotionless, "He's chosen his side, I've chosen mine."
"Jace, you're his parabatai." Maya sighs, looking up at him, "If you can't get through to him, no one can."
"I think we've given him enough chances to redeem himself, " Jace scoffs. Something tenses in his jaw, and he looks back at Maya, eyes betrayed, "Did you - did you know he was in love with me?"
Maya sighs, "Yeah . . um, all of us did, Jace. We were hoping he'd come to terms with it himself." She laughs, the sound hollow, "I guess you don't feel the same way?"
"No, " Jace shakes his head, "No, no, I-I don't swing that way. I think I always knew that Alec was . . . you know . . . gay, " He sighs, softly, "But now he's getting married and all and I just . . I don't know what to do. "
"We can't do anything, " Maya mutters, softly looking at the ground. A bitter taste lingers in the back of her mouth, "It's his choice whether he wants to end the arrangement, "
"Arrangement, " Jace laughs, softly, "Yeah . . "
Meliorn and Izzy walk ahead of them, and the female Shadowhunter presses a kiss to his cheek, the former wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug. Then Clary runs up to them, and Jace taps his sister on the shoulder, "I hate to break up this reunion, Izzy, but we have to go."
Izzy pulls back from Meliorn, cupping his face in her hands,"You’re in good hands." She turns to face the three of them, "I need to get back to the Institute, see what hell has broken loose. Try and talk some sense into Alec." Izzy sighs, glancing at her lover, then back to Jace, "Take care of him."
"We will." Clary promises.
Maya looks away as Izzy and Meliorn kiss goodbye, feeling a little uncomfortable at their public display and only making eye contact with the Seelie once Izzy's a safe distance away, hailing a cab to get her back to the Upper East side. Meliorn then addresses Clary, "Isabelle told me it was your idea to rally the Downworlders. That you spearheaded my rescue."
"Don’t give me too much credit." Clary laughs, softly, "Isabelle made this happen. We just helped."
"She’s being modest." Jace looks down at her in pride, "You’re a Shadowhunter now."
"I have been surprised by more than one Shadowhunter tonight." Meliron sighs, looking Clary in the eye, "You risked everything to unite us."
"Before you tried to sell her out, " Maya raises an eyebrow.
"Eh, not my finest moment." Meliorn shrugs, his expression turning serious as he looks at Clary, "Which is why I’m offering you a gift, for your sacrifice. If you’re ready, I can help you find your father." He turns to Jace, "Get us to the Seelie woods, "
Fuck.
Chapter 54: Chapter 54
Chapter Text
tw: discussions of sa
August 2016
MAYA'S NEVER WANTED TO BE IN A SCI-FI FLICK, but she's certain that they've fallen into the Matrix with the words coming out of Meliorn's mouth.
"Another dimension?" Clary gasps, looking down at the pendant on her neck. The portal shard is apparently from an alternate reality, and from what Meliorn's saying, it seems that it could get them another lead.
"You’re saying there’s a Portal in some other universe that can take us to anyone if we just think of them?" Jace raises a skeptical eyebrow.
"If you can find the only Portal still standing in that dimension, it will take you to your father." Meliorn instructs, gesturing to the dark Seelie woods behind them, fog hanging ominously on the ground, "These trees are where the alternate dimensions intersect the Seelie realm."
"How is it possible that the Clave doesn’t know about your dimensional doorways?" Jace scoffs.
"They are our most guarded secret." Meliorn answers, his dark eyes glittering with a hint of pride, "We are their protectors. Only Seelies know of their existence."
"Then why are you telling us?" Clary questions.
"I owe you a life debt, and I don’t like being indebted to anyone." Meliorn glares at them, clearly annoyed.
"What would happen if–" Clary starts.
"If the Seelie Queen finds out I’ve shared this with you?" Meliorn shrugs, as though he's talking about the weather, "I could be executed."
"Yeah, that's not stressful at all, " Maya mutters under her breath, unnerved by the grandiosity of the situation.
"Well, we’ll be extra careful then." Jace steps forward.
"There’s no “we” in this scenario." Meliorn scoffs, stopping him, "Only Clary goes in to find the Portal. My debt is to her."
"You’ve given us no reason to trust you, Seelie." Jace scoffs.
Clary rolls her eyes at him, "He brought us here."
"Alright, if I can't go in, then can Maya?" Jace sighs; Meliorn glares at him, "She saved your life too. If it weren't for her, we wouldn't have even gone through with the plan, "
"Jace-" Maya begins, but he shuts her up.
"Stop being modest, " Jace rolls his eyes at her, "You know it's true, "
Meliorn regards her for a moment, dark eyes calculated as he seems to think it over. Then he lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes as he turns around to prepare the entrance, "The hybrid may accompany her."
"I have a name, you know." Maya snaps at him, feeling more irritated by the second.
"And yet I could not care less about using it, " Meliorn's hands glow a little brighter than his sardonic tone, moving them in a practiced fashion as a buzzing noise begins to emit from between the dark trees.
"The fuck does Izzy see in him?" Jace mutters, nudging Maya, "Definitely wasn't the personality."
"I don't even know, " Maya shudders in disgust, recounting the sordid tales she'd heard about the pair, "Discretion, maybe?"
"I knew the Seelies were one with nature, " Clary mutters, regarding Meliorn warily as some of the fog rises to his fingertips, "But…"
"This will establish a connection to the other dimension." Meliorn snaps his fingers, and the fog withdraws. An eerie glow emanates from between the tree, green shadows from within dancing in the moonlight.
"What’s it like? The other dimension." Clary questions, "Is it like this one?"
"It is… but it isn’t." Meliorn replies, ominously.
"Could you be more vague?" Jace scoffs.
"It is an alternate timeline, in a sense, " Meliorn explains, "There, Shadowhunters and demons no longer exist. Neither do wizards," He regards Maya, who frowns in confusion, "And Downworlders have conformed to the mundane way of life to avoid detection."
"What happened to the Shadowhunters?" Clary asks, visibly bewildered.
"Their services were no longer required, because they won the war against the demons, centuries ago." Meliorn sighs, eyes far away, "Once they sealed the rifts between their worlds, their culture faded away. Once you arrive in the alternate dimension, you two will assume the body of the Clary and the Maya in that world. You will think and feel just like them."
"But I’ll still know I’m me, right?" Clary questions, as Maya's suspicion grows, "I’ll know I have to find the Portal?"
"There’s a catch, " Jace scoffs, glaring at Meliorn, "With Seelies, there’s always a catch."
"Your alternate self could consume you if you let it." Meliorn raises his eyebrows at Clary.
"Is there a way to not let it?" The redhead questions.
"Focus on the differences between that world and ours." Meliorn looks at the both of them expectantly, "Find something or someone to keep you grounded to this one."
"Easy enough." Clary gives Jace a radiant smile.
"Oh, get a room." Maya rolls her eyes at the two lovebirds.
"It will be more difficult than you think." Meliorn sighs, "If you don’t hurry, you could cease to be this world’s Clary Fairchild."
"And be stuck in that world forever." Clary mutters, eyes wide with horror.
"Just a normal Friday, " Maya sighs, doubt creeping into her throat as she ties her hair back.
Clary takes out the Ace of Cups card, handing it to Jace, who stows it in his jacket, "I just need to be sure it’s safe. Just in case I don’t make it back."
"You’re coming back." Jace reminds her, giving Maya a determined look, "Both of you are, "
"What do any of us know about interdimensional travel?" Clary questions.
"Little bit." Jace shrugs, a roguish grin spreading across his face.
Clary glares at him, "Not helping."
"It’s time." Meliorn motions to Clary and Maya, and both of them step forward.
Maya squints, the light from the Portal too bright for her eyes, but Clary fixes Meliorn with an expectant look, "Meliorn, I appreciate the risk you’re taking, but a life debt requires you ensure our safety." The Seelie smiles in return, "I’ll agree to go with Maya, if she's willing, but if we find this alternate Portal, we can't face Valentine on our own, "
"They'll need backup." Jace nods.
"If you two find the Portal, you may come back for him." Meliorn sighs, rubbing his temple, "Shadowhunters need Seelie permission to go through. Only demons can pass through unaided. And you . . " He squints, regarding Maya for a moment, "You can do whatever you want, I guess."
"Perks of being a hybrid, " Maya snorts.
"Are you sure you want to come?" Clary sighs, looking at her with trepidation, "You've been through a lot already, and I don't want to push you."
"What's the worst that could happen?" Maya shrugs, sighing, "Shadowhunters gone, zilch demons, no noseless bastards . . . I'd say we're safer there than here."
"I wouldn't be so confident, " Meliorn gives her a wary look as he turns around. He suddenly starts reciting a prayer in another language, which Maya assumes to be Seelie, and a door appears. Meliorn twists the doorknob open, and the familiar green light shines on them all again, "Ready?"
"It's now or never I guess, " Clary sighs, glancing at her, "Maya?"
"If I die, put a Rosa Diaz poster on my gravestone, " Maya gives Jace an expectant look, who rolls his eyes, but eventually nods. She looks back at Clary, feeling a little more determined, "Let's do this thing, Fray."
Meliorn pushes them both past the door and Maya feels her body vaporize into the beyond.
The first thing Maya realizes when she wakes up is that there's a dog in the room.
The blankets twist around her as she stretches, yawning softly as the Sunday morning sleepiness makes her limbs grow heavy. The soft, sunny interior of her room comes into focus as she sits up, rubbing her eyes. There's the familiar polaroids above her desk, the overstuffed bookshelf next to her bed, clothes and pillows strewn about the floor as usual.
And a giant German shepherd wagging its tail in the doorway.
Maya gasps, not daring to believe her eyes, "Oscar?" The dog gives an answering bark, immediately bounding over to her side as Maya wraps him in a hug, burying her face in his silky soft fur. She giggles as he licks her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead as she scratches behind his ears, "Oh, you adorable little menace."
Well, there's the silver lining of being stuck in a parallel universe.
After Maya's brushed her teeth and put her hair up so it looks some semblance of decent, she takes a quick look at herself in the mirror. None of her original scars seem to exist in this reality, the thin line on her thigh having disappeared and replaced with her normal, caramel skin. She's wearing sweatpants and an unfamiliar shirt, one that seems to be obtained at an olympiad of some sorts, because there's no way her normal self would ever own anything with, "Do you even science, BrO?" in giant letters across the front, periodic elements and all.
"God, " Maya mutters, scanning the shirt with disgust, "Why haven't I burned this yet?"
The layout of her apartment is still thankfully the same, but the family pictures seemed to have been moved to somewhere else, the hallway walls blank except for corny motivational posters with things like, "Keep calm and carry on!" and "Create your own future!" framed in bright colors. Maya smells the familiar scent of bread toasting as she walks down the hallway, and her feet drag her to the kitchen, immediately stopping in her tracks as she realizes who's at the stove.
Arjun Desai hums a tune to himself, feet twisting to "Yeh Ishq Hai" as he stirs the egg bhurji in the frying pan in front of him, the scent making Maya's mouth water as she stares at him in utter shock. His hair is the same inky black as hers, though greying a little at the edges and a familiar smile stretches across his face as he notices her in the entrance, "Up before noon? Someone call the press-"
"Dad!!" Maya cries, launching herself into his arms as Arjun staggers, temporarily losing his balance.
"Easy, " The older wizard chuckles, wrapping an arm around her as she buries her face in his chest, tears springing to her eyes, "Merlin, if you miss me this much, maybe you should leave your room more often."
"What are you doing here?" Maya makes an effort to compose herself, wiping her eyes as she pulls back. It's remarkable how similar he looks to her childhood memories, barely having aged since the 12-odd years she's been without him.
Arjun gives her an incredulous look, "I live here."
"Oh, yeah, right." Maya mentally kicks herself for sounding like an idiot. She clears her throat, Oscar brushing against her legs as he eagerly looks at Arjun for any leftover eggs that may have spilt from the pan, "I mean, what are you doing in the kitchen?"
"Cooking, obviously." He gestures to the pan full of egg bhurji in front of him, "I know, out of character for me, but Michelin stopped hiring, so I'm forced to grace you and your mother with my amazing dishes for now."
"If by amazing, you mean severely lacking in any flavor, " Nandini's voice floats down the hallway as she walks into the kitchen, already dressed in a sharp black pantsuit that makes her look long and lean, "Then I guess you're correct."
"Not all of us have your impeccable spice tolerance, Jaan." Arjun rolls his eyes.
"You're an NYPD police captain and you still can't tolerate a bit of chili powder, " Nandini tuts, reaching over the counter to grab a pot of coffee. As she pours the dark brown liquid into a mug, Maya glances over Arjun's wall, confused by her earlier words. It's then that she spots a giant headshot hanging on the opposite wall, Arjun grinning at her in full uniform as a large group of letters caption the pictures.
"New York's Finest, " Maya reads, in awe.
"And most attractive, " Arjun sighs, dreamily, switching off the heat on the stove. He turns to Maya, beaming, "No wonder you turned out adorable. It's all thanks to my good genes."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, " Nandini mutters, ruefully, as she takes a sip from her mug. She glances at Maya, eyes wide and expectant, "Speaking of which, how'd your shift at Mount Sinai go yesterday? Any new developments with your research project?"
"What?" Maya sputters, utterly confused.
"Your summer internship." Nandini furrows her brows, "Medical research at Mount Sinai. Do you not remember?" She turns to Arjun, shocked, "How does she not remember?-"
"Oh, right, yeah!" Maya catches herself in time, as both her parents give her a bewildered look, "It's um - it's going great. The plant cells are . . . . photosynthesizing."
"Your project is on cardiac cancer, " Arjun looks aghast.
"There's an - um - botanic element as well." Maya swallows, nervously as Nandini shakes her head in disbelief.
"As long as you're closer to discovering a cure, I'm willing to put up with your bullshit, " Arjun raises an eyebrow, bringing to the spatula to his mouth. He immediately shrinks back as he gets a taste of the bhurji, face twisting in utter disgust, "Good heavens, that's revolting."
"You sure you didn't scramble her brains instead?" Nandini points to Maya, then the pan.
"Mom." Maya glares at her.
"Sorry!" Nandini holds her hands up in defense, "You are a little weird today, though."
"When am I not?" Maya rolls her eyes, grabbing a mug as she pours herself some coffee. She takes a sip, and immediately gags at the bitter taste, realizing the lack of creamer.
"Oh my god, I love this commercial!" Arjun gasps, pointing to the TV behind them.
Nandini snickers as Maya turns, her eyes widening as Hodge's familiar face comes onto the television, fixed with a practiced, megawatt smile and wearing a . . . karate uniform?
"Magnus Bane helped me figure out what I was supposed to do with my life." He beams, happily, "Now? I run my own dojo."
Maya laughs along with Arjun and Nandini in disbelief as the scene cuts to none other than Luke, who's dressed in a drab sweater as he announces, "After being mauled by a suspect’s dog, Magnus helped me realize that maybe the police force wasn’t my calling." He shrugs, smiling, "So I opened up a rare bookstore. Now, I’m doing what I love."
Both of them then appear in the same scene, calling out "Thanks, Magnus Bane!" in unison. Then the warlock himself appears, a pair of glasses hiding his amber eyes as he jauntily sweeps back his black hair, "I’m Magnus Bane. Come in today for a tarot card and psychic reading. I’ll help you find your way."
"Oh, god." Nandini cringes, as the scene switches back to the earlier bollywood channel that was playing, "We should really get premium. I can't stand seeing his face anymore."
"And miss out on his lovely, totally real psychic readings? No way!" Arjun exclaims, earning a glare from his wife.
Maya snorts, but a buzz from her phone grabs her attention. She slides her thumb across the screen to find a text from Clary awaiting her, with the words "Java Jones, now!!" embalzoned on the screen in all caps. Suddenly, Meliorn's earlier words, come back to her, making her heart drop into her stomach, 'Your alternate self could consume you if you let it."
No matter how much Maya misses both her parents, she can't afford to get distracted anymore.
"I have to go, " Maya pockets her phone immediately, not daring to make eye contact with either of them.
"Where?" Nandini questions, giving her a suspicious look, "You told me you were free all day yesterday,"
"Yeah, well change of plans." Maya replies, curtly, "Izzy has a thing at Java Jones and she wants me to be there."
"Probably for the party at the Institute, " Arjun nods in understanding, "I hear that they hired Simon to be the live music tonight, "
"How do you know that?" Maya looks at him incredulously.
"He told us last week, remember? When your friends came over for dinner?" Nandini looks at her curiously, "Are you alright? You seem very shaken up."
"I-I'm fine." Maya shakes her head, trying to snap herself back to the present, "Look, I really need to go."
She runs back to her room before either of them try to stop her.
Half an hour later, Maya sits at a table with her friends, a croissant in her hand as the soft music from the Java Jones food truck nearby wafts through central park. Izzy's focused on her laptop screen, rapidly typing in lines of code, her long, dark hair in a prim braid and studious black glasses balanced on the tip of her nose. Alec sips a lavender latte, flashing Maya a flamboyant smile as his expensive silver watch glitters in the morning sunlight. Jace serves up coffee at the truck, a wholesome smile on his face as he froths up foamy cappuccinos. The atmosphere around them is surprisingly normal, but Maya can't help but feel on edge in the prickly sunlight, her heart pounding as she searches around her for any sign of the redhead.
"Simon, I do not have time for coffee today." As though her prayers have been answered, Clary's annoyed tone wafts up to them as a bespectacled Simon waltzes over to them, dragging her by the arm.
"No, no, no." Simon waves his finger in her face, sitting her down next to Maya, "I know that look in your eye. And when you get that look, I either have to caffeinate you immediately or accept full responsibility for you killing someone. And you know how I am with blood." He finishes as he walks off.
"Do you remember everything, too, or am I the crazy one?" Clary whispers to Maya, low enough to evade the ears of the rest of their group.
"You're not crazy, " Maya mutters, taking a nervous bite of her croissant. She shudders, softly, "All of this is so weird."
"Is that new?" Isabelle frowns, pointing to Clary's necklace, which thankfully still contains the portal shard from earlier.
"Yeah, " Clary smiles, nervously, "I got it a couple days ago."
"It goes with your dress, " Isabelle nods in understanding; She fixes both Clary and Maya with an expectant look, "Because you two are getting ready at my place tonight, right?"
"Ready for what?" Clary frowns.
"That is not even a little bit funny." Alec snaps at them, punctuating his words with his fingers, "I have poured my heart and soul into planning this anniversary party for the Institute. And the theme is amazing." He snaps his fingers dramatically, sighing in frustration, "But, seriously, what is with this guy and the Mad Hatter?"
"Visionaries are quirky-crazy." Isabelle glares at him in defense, "You don’t get 4D Internet tech thinking inside the box."
Alec rolls his eyes, "I’m beginning to wonder if you don’t have a thing for your boss."
"Like, if Clary’s dad would ever go for me." Isabelle sighs, softly, twirling the end of her braid.
"Wait, my dad?" Clary scoffs, shocked.
"Valentine?!" Maya sputters, feeling vomit rise up in her throat.
"Uh, no! I’m totally kidding." Izzy laughs, nervously darting her eyes around the table, "I mean, I’m not crushing on your dad, right? No."
"Right, of course not." Clary nods, rapidly, "That’d be totally weird."
"Yeah, mm-mm." Izzy quickly puts headphones in, focusing on her laptop screen as she refuses to make eye contact with any of them.
"Your dad's a tech CEO?" Maya whispers, looking at Clary in shock.
"Apparently, " Clary mutters, "I think the Institute's his company?"
"Order’s up." Simon interrupts them, handing Clary a coffee. He offers Maya one, but she declines, her nerves already shot from the environment around her.
"Hi." Clary tries her best to act casual.
Simon turns to Alec "We’re setting up at 6:00, right?" Alec nods, "Yeah, okay." He turns to Clary, "I need your help tonight… loading. This gig could be huge for me."
Jace walks over to them, placing a hand on Clary's shoulder, "Hi."
"Hey." Clary smiles, softly.
"You wanna get outta here?" He gestures to the back of the truck.
"Sure." Clary goes with him before Maya can stop her, the two of them slipping to the back of the truck. She opens her mouth, arms reaching out to grab the redhead's arm in warning, but Alec's voice stops her dead in her tracks.
"So, " He asks, casually draining the dregs of his coffee, "How's it going with Malfoy?"
Maya laughs in disbelief, not daring to believe what's just come out of his mouth, "What?"
"Your parents aren't around, y'know, " Izzy takes a headphone out to give her a sympathetic look, "You can drop the pretense."
"I have zero idea what you're on about." Maya looks at the both of them in utter confusion. How could this universe get even more convoluted?
"This girl, " Alec sighs, rolling his eyes, "Are you sure you're not using your own brain instead of someone's heart for cancer research?"
"I'll use your pancreas if you don't give me a straight answer, " Maya snaps, to which Izzy snickers.
"How does Maya Rajesh, future valedictorian, science whiz, class president and to-be-cardiac-surgeon forget about the fact that she's in love with her greatest academic rival?" Alec scoffs, looking at her with utter shock.
"Academic rival?" Maya sputters, "What are you even talking about?"
"Okay, since you've lost the remaining half-a brain cell you had left, I'll give you a quick recap of the last three years of your life, " Izzy rolls her eyes, setting down her laptop as a serious expression comes over her face, "About three years ago, Draco Malfoy showed up as an exchange student at Constance Billard, and you two despised each other from the moment you meant. You thought he was an arrogant, stuck-up asshole; he thought you were a controlling, uptight know-it-all. You were at each other's throats in every class possible, competing for every opportunity and never shutting up if you won at something the other didn't. But, last year, you both got really drunk at Alexa Wu's birthday bash and made out on the fire escape - I had the unfortunate pleasure of catching you in the act." Izzy shudders, readjusting her glasses.
"Ever since then, there's been a lot of sexual tension, miscommunication, and unrequited feelings that were disguised as insults, " Alec continues, picking up from where his sister left off, "You two avoided each other like the plague, but the principal forced you two to pair up on the prom committee in March because no one else wanted to do it. There were a lot of late nights on the phone and early mornings to pick up supplies. One night, after ironing out the final details of the catering, you two decided to get ice cream in Brooklyn to celebrate. One thing led to another, and while you were walking back to the subway, Malfoy admitted that he'd had a thing for you for a while."
"Since then, you two have been sneaking around behind everyone's backs, since your parents are a lawyer and a police captain while his bribe the government to let them out of paying taxes." Izzy rolls her eyes, "I never thought you'd go from wanting to slit his throat to dancing around like star-crossed lovers . . . but here we are, I guess."
Maya stares at the both of them in utter disbelief for a few moments. There's pin-drop silence around them as she digests the weight of their words, ears ringing with a kind of deja vu that's new yet old all at once. Somehow, in this life, their lives have been intertwined, not necessarily with the same gravity, but with complications of their own. Even with the unfamiliar chaos around her lately, their relationship has been the only constant, those late-night phone calls saving the last bits of her sanity as the shadow world hacks away at her conscience. And if another iteration of Draco Malfoy and Maya Rajesh exist in this universe as well, what's going to happen when she gets back home?
Just then, Clary runs back to the table, yanking Maya from it as she grabs her by the arm, muttering the words under breath, "We need to go. Time's running out."
"What?!" Maya hisses, under her breath, "But we just got here!"
"Do you want to get trapped in here with those two?" Clary glances at the alternate versions of Izzy and Alec, comforting in their own ways, but so starkly different in their existence that the safeness of it all sends an unnerving shiver down Maya's spine.
"Fuck no." Maya swears under her breath.
"Where are you two off to?" Izzy questions, her dark eyebrows furrowing over her glasses.
"Uh . . . dress shopping!" Maya makes a quick excuse, "Clary spilt coffee all over hers yesterday."
"How could you?!" Alec gasps, shocked, "The silk is probably destroyed by now."
"Maya hasn't bought anything yet either." Clary chimes in, a nervous giggle escaping her lips, "So we thought to kill two birds with one stone. See you at 6?"
"Hey - wait!!" Izzy calls after them, as Clary drags Maya back across the park, their feet sprinting to the nearest subway station.
"Where are we headed, again?" Maya gasps, practically out of breath as Clary sprints down the stairs to the underground/
"To the residence of our favorite magical know-it-all, " Clary rolls her eyes.
"Magnus Bane, " Maya snorts, as her boots click on the stained linoleum of the station, "Some things never change."
Or rather, it seems that something important has changed.
"The Lovers." Magnus Bane's amber eyes glances over Clary's tarot cards, fingers running over the gold-painted edges, "You are in a loving relationship. This man has a strong hold on you. You feel a magnetic attraction to him that you cannot escape. Tonight will define your relationship." Clary's eyes become slightly unfocused at this, and Maya smacks her arm to bring her back down to reality, "Oh. You hope he is your soul mate. But secrets revealed will threaten to tear you apart."
Suddenly, a fluffy orange cat jumps onto the table in front of them, startling the redhead, "You don’t have a cat."
"I have two." Magnus corrects her, adjusting the edge of his baggy grey sweater as he picks up the orange cat off the table, "Chairman Meow…" He gestures to a familiar, chubby grey feline currently napping on the couch, "and Church."
"Huh, " Maya mutters, surprised at the dichotomous feline identities in front of her, "Interesting."
"I’m not actually here for a reading." Clary swallows, stepping closer to Magnus, "I know you’re a warlock, Magnus. I’m a Shadowhunter."
Magnus gives her a patronizing smile, then laughs, "There are no more Shadowhunters. Haven’t been for hundreds of years."
"I can prove it!" Clary insists. She pulls down her the edge of her tank top as if to show off a rune, and Maya facepalms in embarrassment.
"All I see, Shadowhunter, " Magnus raises an amused eyebrow, "Is you could use a serious tan."
"You knew there were no runes in this dimension, right?" Maya gives Clary a pointed look.
"We're from an alternate reality, " The redhead clarifies.
Some of the amusement from Magnus's expression dissapates, "If that were true… without an anchor, you’d be assimilating into this world."
"Believe me, I am trying to fight it. Which is part of why we need your help." Clary sighs, pulling out a piece of paper. She quickly makes a sketch and thrusts it towards Magnus, the demons they've faced so far imprinted onto the creamy backdrop, "In my dimension, Shadowhunters still battle demons. And now there is something so much worse. We need your magic to help us stop it."
"And who are you two again?" Magnus gives them a suspicious look.
"I'm Clary Fray. In my dimension, we didn't win the Dark War. Valentine is still alive, and he's rising once more. And he's also apparently my father." Clary sighs.
"I'm Maya Rajesh. I'm a warlock too," Maya swallows the lump in her throat, "My mom, Nandini Subramanian, is the head of the defense wing at the Institute - in my home dimension. If Valentine comes to power, she'll be one of the first targets."
"Subramanian . . . " Magnus muses; His eyes suddenly light up in recognition, "Isn't she a death row lawyer? The one who got a single mother away from the penalty because it turned out her husband faked his death for life insurance?"
"I . . . . think?" Maya stammers. She silently laughs to herself. Despite being in a parallel universe, Nandini certainly doesn't have anything lacking in terms of her accomplishment.
"Smart woman, " Magnus remarks. His face changes as he walks over to the window, "I can’t help you. My magic’s gone dormant."
"Then wake it up." Clary snaps.
"I might know something that could help, " A lightbulb goes off in Maya's head.
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Magnus raises a suspicious eyebrow, turning to face her, defensively folding his arms over his chest.
"In my dimension, you taught me a potion to kickstart my magic in the unlikely scenario of it going dormant, " Maya sighs, "I've never needed it, but I've memorized the recipe."
"I taught you a potion?" The warlock questions, confused.
"Yeah, um . . you're kind of my godfather back home. You helped my mom settle into New York when we first moved." Maya laughs, nervously, at the shocked expression on his face, "Taught me to use spells and hexes, helped me comprehend a few wizarding subjects, pushed me to take self-defense classes . . . among other things. Anyway-" She claps her hands together, cheeks burning with embarrassment as a sharp exhale escaping her lips, "Let's karate-chop your magic into action."
The potion is relatively easy to make, a simple but powerful antidote to frozen magic. As Maya stirs in the last of the Icelandic moss, it turns the precise opal color required for efficacy, and she sighs, relieved, turning off the heat as Clary flips through an old magic book. She casts a cooling charm on the liquid and ladles it into a glass, handing the thick potion to an apprehensive-looking Magnus, who remarks a quiet, "This better work." and chugs it down.
"What does that do, again?" Clary questions, peering curiously at the glass.
"Hopefully, kick-start my magic." He groans at the bitter taste.
"And?" She looks at him expectantly.
"Give it a minute, Fray." Maya rolls her eyes at Clary.
"That book is very precious." Magnus remarks, glancing at the test in Clary's hand, "Warlock spells preserved in all their grandeur."
"It’s stunning." Clary breathes out, tracing the artwork emblazoned on the front.
Magnus groans, clutching his stomach, "This isn’t working. This is the longest I’ve ever abstained." His face turns red, "From a lot of things."
"Why don’t you just try something simple?" Clary suggests.
"Like this, " Maya snaps her fingers, blue sparks escaping the tips.
Magnus copies her actions, but his fingers emit a weak glow, nowhere near the shower of emerald sparks that usually pour from them.
"Usually, you have a little bit more of a…" Clary waves her hands extravagantly, ". . . flourish to it."
Magnus gives her a pointed look, "I do not look like that."
"Well…" Clary sighs. Magnus waves his hands once more, but nothing happened, "Magnus, we just have to find the Portal."
"Even if my magic was working, " Magnus mutters, frustrated, "I’d still need an energy signature of some kind to track it."
"Maybe we try something different." Clary breaks off the shard from her necklace, frowning down at it, "I don’t know how this came into this dimension with me."
"Because it’s of this dimension. It belongs here." Magnus states.
Both of them reach out to to touch the shard, and immediately shudder, "Oh. Now that’s what I’m talking about." Magnus sighs, relieved, "We have lift off. The energy is very faint. It’s been dormant for a long time. Like me." He shrugs, "Let’s see if we can wake it up."
"Can you see it?" Clary questions, literally.
"Yes. It’s in a subbasement of… Fort Knox."
Clary's face pales, "Like, literally Fort–?"
"No, but it might as well be." Magnus's mouth presses into a thin line as he sets down the shard, "The Institute."
"Why is that a problem?" Clary frowns.
"High tech, high security." Magnus gives her an incredulous look, "Impossible to get into."
"And hosting an anniversary party tonight that we both have invites to, " Maya gasps, a plan suddenly forming in her head.
Clary's cell phone chimes, and she slides her fingertips across the screen, her face lighting up as a message from Izzy pops up on screen, "Perfect timing, " She gives him a final look, "Meet us tonight at 7:00 p.m. at the Institute." Clary glances at his drab sweater and undershirt combo with distaste, "Dress to impress."
Maya ends up diverting from her original plan of getting ready with Izzy and Clary in order to rummage through her closet for a decent dress to wear. After combing through hangers full of Olympiad hoodies and athletic leggings, she finally finds a purple halter neck made of shimmering satin. The color sets off the golden tones in her skin and the straps tie behind her neck in a way that emphasized the indents of her collarbones. The bodice hugs her chest and waist, flaring out around her thighs as Maya runs a brush through her hair, settling for pinning a few strands back and leaving the rest to loosely hang over her shoulders in simple waves. As she lines her eyes with dark pencil, Maya notices another poster in her bedroom, and it makes her stop in her tracks.
The sight of herself in a Bharathanatyam costume is jarring to see almost three years after she quit the art, draped in a sapphire blue kanjeevaram that makes her heavily-lined eyes pop as she's photographed mid-pose, a practiced smile on her face as her henna-stained hands bend in familiar mudras. She looks older than she remembers, and as her eyes flicker to the caption, Maya realizes that the photo is from last year, titled, "Maya Rajesh, 2nd-time winner, 1st Place, Constance Billard Talent Exhibition 2015 - Dance Category".
Her heart stops in her chest. 2nd time winner. Did she — did she —
Sometimes, on the rare occasions her mind would slip and wander away to the incident she had forced to the very back of her mind, she felt a deep regret at succumbing to her worst fear. Dance had been one of the few things that had made her truly happy, given her purpose, a reason to keep moving. Every time Maya had stepped foot in the studio, moved in time with her strict instructor's taalam, her eyes moving along with the mudras created by her hands to tell a story created by the heavenly gods above her, she'd felt as though she'd finally belonged somewhere. That the despite the brutal, harsh, exclusionary nature of the world around her, dance was the one thing that could never be taken from her, a mountain was hers to climb and conquer.
But she'd let that happen, didn't she? She'd let him have power over her, let a rich, entitled daddy's boy take away her dreams and put a value on her body that she wasn't ready for. Maybe if she'd closed her eyes, lied back and thought of England, gone through with the transaction, things would have been different. Maybe she could have put it behind her with ease, and looked back at it as a necessary sacrifice. Nothing is free when you want to rise to the top. Maybe if she'd had the stomach to do what needed to be done, she wouldn't be crying over spilt milk three years later but somewhere happier, more successful. Maybe she'd find the guts to be proud of herself for once.
In hindsight, Maya knows that she had no control over what happened. She did the best she knew how with what she had. She'd been twelve, for fuck's sake. An actual child back then, but an older one now. He'd projected sexuality onto her body that her mind wasn't ready for, and she'd dealt with it in the only way she knew how - by pushing the memory down and forcing herself to run forward. It had been undeserved and unwanted, but a small, ugly part of her still voices all those intrusive thoughts if she doesn't forcefully quiet them.
Maya doesn't know if she could have gone through with using her body as a pawn in a larger game — but in this universe, she probably had, and never unpacked the reality of what she'd done. Keeping her mouth shut to retain her place at Constance, because someone like her would never be believed if she spoke out.
And somehow, that makes her feel even worse.
Maya swallows, sighing as she puts down the pencil. Every time she looks at what happened, analyzes the details, it just gets worse. She knows she'll spiral if she lets herself continue, go back to that dark, deep place that caused her to lash out all those months ago. She can't afford to lose her sanity in an alternate universe. Otherwise she'd throw away her anchor, and be trapped somewhere else, on a track that shows a different course of her life that would have been possible if things had ended differently in the locker room that day. And as peaceful as this existence is, Maya knows she could have never lived with the reality of what could have transpired that evening. So she carefully places all the memories back into that particular box and breathes out slowly, knowing she can only push down the guilt and focus on her job.
She couldn't do anything then — but she has the opportunity to catch a megalomaniac now, and Maya will be damned if she doesn't take the chance to end the reign of a tyrant whose rise could eclipse all of their lives into darkness.
As she swipes hints of berry pigment onto her lips, the creak of the window behind her sends a shiver down Maya's spine. She whips around, startled as her hands close around a heavy bottle of hairspray and poise it as a weapon, calling out an uneasy, "Who's there?" as the silhouette of her intruder comes into view behind the curtain.
"Your sworn enemy, " answers none other than the sardonic voice of a certain blond, making her stomach flip. Draco Malfoy - or the version of him in this universe - climbs through her bedroom window from the fire escape outside, stumbling onto his sneaker-clad feet as he lands in her room. There's little differences that she notices - a sky-blue Columbia hoodie around his shoulders instead of the usual Slytherin jumper and expensive-looking black jeans instead of his usual smart-uniform trousers - but the self-satisfied smirk on his face and the sight of his ice-blond locks falling over his grey eyes in an entirely attractive way makes her breath stutter in an all too familiar manner.
There's the silver lining she was hoping for.
"What exactly gave you the impression that breaking into my room was a good idea?" Maya raises a petulant eyebrow.
Draco rolls his eyes, "Your window was literally open. Besides, it isn't a crime to want to see your girlfriend."
Girlfriend. Her heart skips a beat at the word, and Maya fights to keep her face straight, "My parents are a room away."
"Guess we'll just have to be quiet then." His words make something flip in Maya's stomach, as his grey eyes appreciatively glance over her outfit, "You clean up nice."
"That the best you could do?" Maya laughs, softly, voice softening as he walks closer to her, tracing a callused thumb across her cheekbone.
"You're the one who tells me I call you 'beautiful' too many times, " Draco shrugs, playing with the ends of her hair as an arm slides around her waist, pulling her almost flush against him, "I had to get creative."
"I do not remember saying anything of the sort, but go figure."
"Oh come on." Draco groans, dramatically, tilting his head back, "Don't tell me you've started doing research on your own brain instead of heart cells."
"Shut up, " She smacks his arm, and he makes a show of wincing. Maya glances at the clock, her disappointment rising in realization as the time reads 6:30, meaning that there's barely a half-hour left before the event at the Institute, "I have to leave soon, you know."
"Oh, how could I forget?" Draco rolls his eyes sardonically, "Another evening of making rounds at the Institute to keep up appearances."
"It's not my fault I have high-profile parents, " Maya sighs, " Besides, it's not all bad. My friends will be there to take the edge off."
"Your friends despise my existence." He groans.
"Are you saying that you'd like to show me off there, Malfoy?" Maya raises an expectant eyebrow.
"God no." He makes a disgusted face, "I would never set foot in the company of someone who named his new tech invention The Mad Hatter. But — " Draco sighs, softly; His eyes meet hers, steel against sapphire, and she forgets how to breathe, "I do want to be able to go out with you like you deserve."
Maya stutters, "Are you — are you asking me on a date?"
"Yeah, " His cheeks turn pink, and he suddenly looks shy; a hint of a smile curling his mouth, "I guess I am."
Maya smiles in spite of herself, and in the moment, she forgets. Forgets about the consequences of their union in this dimension and the next, of the dark purpose that threw her into this world headfirst, hanging around her neck like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. She forgets everything except the softness of his gaze on hers. The icy blond of his hair falling over his eyes, the thundering in her heart at the promise of his words. "Then in that case, " She finishes, softly, "Yes, I would like to go out on a date with you, Draco Malfoy."
"Fucking finally, " He gasps out as their lips connect, Maya's hands grabbing the collar of his shirt as she pulls him to her, "I've been overthinking this for days."
"Yeah, well, don't make me change my mind." She breathes against his lips, a smirk spreading across her mouth.
"You won't." He studies her face with an intensity that makes her stomach flip over.
"How're you so sure about that?" Maya scoffs, as her back hits the wall, Draco leaning an arm against the wall as he hovers over her.
"Because, " He leans closer to Maya, a telltale smirk on his face and she feels her breath hitch, "I've been rather good at convincing you in the past."
"You're really full of yourself, you know?" Maya scoffs, smiling in spite of herself. A date. Her heart skips a beat at the prospect.
"And you love me for it, " Draco suddenly flushes at his words, losing his smug smirk and stammering in embarrassment, "I mean — not that you love love me — you don't have to be in love with me — it's probably too early — but if you are — um — fuck — "
"Malfoy?"
"Hmm?" He avoids eye contact with her completely, cheeks pink with adorable nervousness as he fixes his eyes on the dark hardwood of her bedroom floor.
"Shut up, " She pulls her lips to his in a searing kiss, yanking him by his shirt collar as he gasps. Draco's hands reach up to cup her face, lips soft and warm and familiar all at once, and Maya loses herself in his touch. The feeling of his arms around her is safe and thrilling and steady all at once, and she wonders what would happen if she stayed here. Resigned herself to her fate in this universe, leaving the cataclysmic problems at home to iron themselves out. Drowning in the kiss of a boy who drives her mad and happy and wild at the same time.
"I could kiss you forever, " He whispers against her lips, and Maya's breath hitches as she gazes into his grey eyes. Her heart stops and her head spins as a rush of dizzying adrenaline courses through her veins, and she contemplates skipping the party altogether, eyeing her unmade bed in the corner of her room. Maybe she should take a rain check. Clary's proven herself more than capable of kicking some demon ass on her own — who's to say she can't do it again? Maybe she could take a break, unlace her heels — and as Draco pushes her up against the wall, legs wrapping around his waist, kissing her neck as he slides his hand up her thigh in a way that makes her whimper — Maya idly wonders if she should let him unzip her dress as well.
"Maya?" The sound of a knock on the door makes her break away from Draco's lips with a startled gasp. Nandini's alarmed voice snaps her back to reality, "What are you doing in there?! You're going to be late!."
"Perfect timing, " Draco groans, his hair falling over his forehead as he rests it against hers, eyes screwed shut in frustration.
"I needed to leave at some point anyway, " Maya laughs, softly, disentangling from him as he carefully sets her back down. Her heart drops into her stomach as she remembers Magnus's earlier words. Without an anchor, you'd be assimilating into this world. A shiver of guilt runs down her spine, and Maya swallows, feeling ashamed.
Did she really just contemplate letting Valentine run free in order to mess around with her-kind-of-boyfriend uninterrupted?
"So, Carbone on Friday?" Draco smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear; The soft touch makes Maya lose her focus for a second, "I can get us a table at 7."
"Oh, yeah, that." Maya laughs, nervously. She smiles up at Draco in what she hopes is a sincere way, "Perfect."
"Good, " He presses a final kiss to her forehead, a smirk spreading across his face as he leaves to climb out the window, "Get ready, Rajesh. I'm about to set your standards so high that you'll never want to date anyone else again."
"Sure" She snickers, "Don't trip on your way out."
"Wouldn't dream of it, " He rolls his eyes before the curtain closes.
"Maya!" Nandini pounds on the door once more, "What's taking so long?"
"Coming, " Maya groans, dread settling into her stomach at the thoughts of the hours ahead.
This is going to be a long night.
The Institute - or rather, Valentine's fancy start-up - is decorated to the max when Arjun and Nandini pull up at the entrance, swathed in purple and blue lights as glittering streamers hang from the windows. Maya fastens the straps of her heels as their sleek black BMW comes to a stop, the sounds of conversation and bass spilling out into the glittering darkness of the Upper East side.
"Remember, take your phone off silent, " Nandini reminds her.
"No drinking, " Arjun glowers.
"No drugs, " Nandini interjects.
"If you sleep over at Alec and Izzy's, text us first." Arjun sighs, "I don't want to send out a missing person's alert because you're busy throwing pillows at each other."
"Better than throwing herself at someone else, " Nandini grumbles.
"Yeah, well we don't have to really about that with this one. Intimidating enough to repel every boy in existence, " Arjun laughs, and guilt twists in Maya's stomach as he speaks up again, "Right, beta?"
"Right, " Maya laughs, nervously, burying the clandestine events in her room from earlier in the back of her mind, "I send them running like cowards."
"Damn straight!" Arjun proclaims, reaching out to squeeze her hand from the front seat, "Hey, bring some of those French onion canapes home, yeah? Valentine may be eccentric, but the catering for this bash is on point."
"We could just buy them instead of — I don't know — having your daughter steal them from a party?" Nandini gives him an incredulous look, "For pete's sake, you're a police officer!"
"The only crime being committed here is the fact that those canapes aren't in my belly, " Arjun scoffs, "Besides, free food tastes better."
"Good god, I'm married to you." Nandini groans, putting her face in her hands.
"And you love it, " Arjun wiggles his eyebrows, smiling impishly.
"I'll take that as my cue to leave, " Maya rolls her eyes at her parents, slinging the silvery strap of her purse over her shoulder.
"Don't die!" Arjun calls after her, groaning as Nandini smacks the back of his head, "What gives, woman?"
"Could you not be more ominous?" Nandini snaps.
The sound of their bickering fades away as Maya climbs out of the car, waving as her parents speed away down the street. A sad sort of emptiness fills her chest as she glances toward the stately building in front of her, swallowing the lump in her throat. The glittering skyscrapers of the Upper East Side suddenly feel like a taunt, a cold reminder of what she's been sent here for. What she's seen and endured thus far, in this glimpse of an alternate life. A life not without it's own faults, but happier nonetheless.
But, for some reason, the thought of staying here doesn't appeal to her anymore.
The sounds of laughter and conversation echoe through the Institute as Maya steps in through the open doors, her heels clicking against the marble floors as waiters with champagne flutes pass through the crowd. She takes one from a tray and brings the glass to her lips, the citrusy taste lingering on her tongue as an uneasy feeling encircles her chest.
If they're going to face off with Valentine tonight, she'll need all the liquid courage she can get.
Just then, Maya spots Izzy in the crowd in a glittering blue dress than flares out from her waist, her hair half-pinned up and falling down in soft, innocent curls, the complete opposite of her usual sultry visage. She chatters animatedly to a man Maya can't see, hands waving as she gestures to the "Mad Hatter" poster in front of her, proudly showing off the Institute's newest tech. Simon stands beside her, an arm wrapped around her waist with an adoring look in her eyes, and as Maya walks up to them, the sight of the very man they're supposed to vanquish tonight makes her stop in her tracks.
"Thank you so much for the gig, Mr. M." Simon gushes, as Maya's heart drops into her stomach.
"Simon, how many times do I have to tell you?" Valentine smiles, looking charming in a way that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He's aged considerably compared to his youth, the dark waves on his hair disappearing over the years and grey stubble decorating his chin softening the harsh lines from before. But his sharp eyes and telltale smirk remind Maya exactly who he is — a monster who will stop at nothing to vanquish people like her, even if it means uprooting the fundamental tenets of the clave.
Even if he's currently wearing a hat that looks like someone puked Alice In Wonderland all over it.
"Sorry… Val." Simon blushes in embarrassment.
"Poker night." Valentine punches his shoulder good-naturedly, "Next Saturday, all right?"
"Yes!" Simon fist-pumps, "Is Blackwell gonna be there? ‘Cause that guy is a sore loser."
"Yeah, that’s ’cause you bled him dry." Valentine chuckles, good-naturedly. Maya freezes as his eyes flit to her, widening in surprise, "Oh, Maya, you came!"
"Yeah, " She laughs nervously, not sure how to answer, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
"I was scared you'd be too busy to turn up." He ruffles her hair, and Maya resists the urge to reach for her nonexistent stele, "Preoccupied with saving the world by vaporizing one cancer cell at a time."
"Even Einstein needs a day off sometimes, " Simon laughs, nudging her, "Right, Maya?"
"Certainly, " A nervous giggle escapes her lips as Maya's heart rate spikes, "I — uh — " Maya gesticulates in the direction of the dance floor, "I'm going to go find Clary." She quickly shuffles away as Izzy gives her a quizzical look.
Face burning in utter embarrassment, it doesn't take long for her to find the redhead, who's dressed in a sky-blue dress not unlike Izzy's, but with a delicate sweetheart neckline instead of sparkly halter straps. Her eyebrows raise as she glances at Maya, "You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"Yeah, well, fraternizing with genocidal maniacs does that to you, " Maya grumbles, then catches herself, "Sorry, I know he's your dad and all, but this is a little . . . . unnerving for me."
"You're not the only one, " Clary shudders, "I almost stabbed the man with a paintbrush this morning."
"God, " Maya grimaces, sighing, "Did you manage to get Magnus on the guest list?"
"He should be here any minute now, " Clary confirms. Her eyes widen at the sight of two familiar figures on the dance floor, "Are they—?"
Maya raises her eyebrows at the sight of Valentine and a pretty red-haired woman (who she assumes to be Jocelyn), waltzing together to a slow tune played by Simon and his band, "Yep."
"Sometimes I wonder . . . " Clary swallows, looking at them, her green eyes conflicted, "I never knew my dad, but after today — what if things were different?"
"I don't know, " Maya sighs, softly, "It's been nice seeing my dad after almost a decade, but something about this world is just . . . . off."
"It's weird, " Clary laughs, softly, "We're so . . . normal . . here, well at least I am. Cancer research?" She nudges Maya, smirking, "Since when did you want to become a doctor-scientist?"
"Please." Maya scoffs, shuddering in disgust, "I pity my future patients — that is, if I don't accidentally kill them first. Your five-o-clock." She taps the redhead on the shoulder as a familiar blond Shadowhunter walks up to them; Jace has an earnest nervousness in his face, his heterochromic eyes set off by the dark blue of his suit.
"May I?" He holds out a hand to her.
Clary's cheeks flush with nerves at the sight of him, "Jace. Hi. Um…"
Jace raises a confused eyebrow, "What’s going on with you?"
"Nothing." She brushes it off.
"You ran away from me this morning." He scoffs, dropping his hand, "And you didn’t respond to my texts all day, and now you won’t even dance with me?"
"I’m sorry, okay?" Clary sighs, giving Maya a nervous glance, "Really, I am. I just, I’ve got a lot on my mind."
"Just one dance?" Jace gives her a pleading look.
Clary thinks for a moment, before handing Maya her phone, "Fine."
"One?" His face lights up.
"One?" Maya questions, giving her an incredulous look.
"One." She confirms.
"You two got somewhere else to be?" Jace raises a suspicious eyebrow, glancing between them.
"No!" Clary interjects before Maya can stop her, "Maya's just - uh - nervous. Big presentation tomorrow, y'know."
"Presentation?" Jace frowns, "I thought that wasn't until Wednesday."
"Yeah, well, Dr. Amobi's case load is heavy, so she wanted to finish it off early." Maya finishes smoothly, the name vaguely familiar, "Saving lives can't wait, y'know."
To her utter surprise, Jace buys it, a chuckle escaping his lips as his face relaxes, "One of these days, you'll have to tell me how you do it all."
"Yeah, well, magicians never give away their secrets." Clary rolls her eyes playfully. She leans closer to Maya, subtly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, whispering quietly, "Give me five minutes. I need to keep our cover."
"Really, Fray?" Maya's nostrils flare in frustration, "Magnus is going to be here any second."
"It'll be fine." Clary whispers back, confidently, "Look, I'll distract Jace for five minutes so you can coax Magnus in. Simple."
"I don't like this." Maya mutters, as Jace eagerly pulls his girlfriend towards the dance floor, Clary giving her a pointed look. "I don't like this at all."
Later, as Maya comes back from a quick restroom break, a smile still on her face from the photo Arjun just sent her — an excited Nandini squishing Oscar's furry face as he tries on her dad's police hat — she sees a familiar figure standing in the entrance. Magnus is dressed in a pale blue suit, his golden skin shining from the fairy lights around them as he pushes back a stray strand of hair into a neat comb-over that's so unlike the colored, spiky visage he usually sports.
"Check it again." She hears him argue again, his voice indignant and tense, "I told you, I’m on the list."
"You’re not here." Raj, somehow even more annoying in this dimension, rolls his eyes.
"What seems to be the problem?" Alec walks up to them, something shifting in his eyes as he sees Magnus standing in the doorway.
"This one, " Raj gives Magnus a disdainful look, "wants to crash the party."
"I’ll be responsible for this one." Alec places a delicate hand on Magnus's shoulder, a charming smile on his face as Raj reluctantly gives him room to move, "Come on in."
Magnus walks in after him, eyes following Alec as he grabs two teacups from a passing waiter, passing one to Magnus as they clink their glasses. "To us." He takes a sip, not breaking eye contact, "And you are?"
"Magnus Bane." A soft blush graces his cheeks.
"Alec Lightwood." Alec smirks, the corner of his mouth turning up in a way that makes Magnus stammer.
"Thanks, but…" He spots Maya, his expression changing to one of urgency, "I gotta go."
As Magnus quickly dashes away, Alec sighs at his retreating figure, then grins, ruefully. Maya hears him mutter under his breath, "Playing hard to get. I love a challenge." She snickers under her breath.
"Having fun?" Maya raises an eyebrow.
"Shut up, " Magnus rolls his eyes, though Maya still detects a hint of a smile on his face, "Nice dress."
"Thanks." Maya smiles, softly, "Your magic's in order, then?"
"Somewhat." Magnus sighs, looking apprehensive, "Where's your friend?"
"She's . . . " Maya searches the dance floor, her heart sinking as she spots Clary's arms entwined around Jace, looking up at him with familiar, unfocused eyes, "Oh shit."
"Come on, let’s go." Magnus grabs Maya's arm, pulling her towards the aforementioned redhead as Jace walks off to get them drinks.
"Who are you?" Clary looks at him in utter bewilderment.
"Clary, it’s me, Magnus." He insists, placing a hand on her shoulder, "We don't have much time."
"Do I know you?" She frowns, quizzically, "Maya, who is this guy?"
"Focus." Magnus insists as Maya grabs Clary's forearm, trying to get her to come with them.
Clary shakes her off, alarmed, "Okay, seriously, let go of me.". At that moment, Magnus snaps his fingers and a hologram of Chairman Meow appears, "What is wrong with you?". Magnus snaps his fingers again and a hologram of Church materializes out of his fingertips, Clary looking shocked at the sight, "Dude, I…". He snaps his fingers one last time and the haze clears from Clary's eyes. She gasps, "That was close."
"You’re telling me." Magnus gives her an incredulous look.
"I was contemplating slapping you, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"Lovely, " Clary's tone drips with sarcasm as she points toward an exit, "This way. Let’s go."
The pipes hiss and creak around them as the three of them trudge through the basement, down in the deep, dark underbelly of the Institute. Maya shivers in distaste, "Still creepy as hell in this dimension."
"What are we even looking for?" Clary whispers to Magnus, confused.
"I’ll know it when I see it." Magnus sighs.
"That's reassuring." Maya rolls her eyes. Magnus glares at her.
"What if this doesn’t work?" Clary questions, a hint of panic in her voice.
"It will, biscuit. I can feel it." Magnus states, determined.
"For your sake, I hope your confidence doesn't fail us." Maya sighs.
Suddenly, Maya hears footsteps sound behind them, and she whirls around. But it's not the grisly face of a demon or the evil eyes of a circle member staring back at them. Instead, Clary and Magnus break apart as a shell-shocked Jace stands frozen in front of them, his eyes darkening with anger as he sees Magnus's hand leave her shoulder, "You know, if you were having second thoughts about us, you could have told me, " He scoffs, betrayal evident in his tone as he glares at Magnus, "Instead of coming down here and hooking up with some random guy."
"Jace . . . " Maya sighs, irritation overcoming her as she resists the urge to scream, "You are badly misreading this situation—"
Clary's face pales, "This isn’t exactly a good time."
"Really?" Jace scoffs, "You know when would be a good time for me, Clary? Never." He storms off, "Never call me again."
As Clary walks after him, Maya sees a black blur dart toward Jace out of the corner of her eye and her blood freezes in her veins. No. No, no, no, no—
"Jace!!" She screams, running toward them. Clary immediately pushes her boyfriend behind her, and the demon materializes, a dark grisly thing with black leathery wings and sharp spiked claws that take a swipe at the redhead. However, she manages to duck in time, jamming her foot into the demon hard enough to cause momentary pain.
"What the hell is that thing?" Jace's expression turns to terror as he gulps, staring up at the demon.
"Let's not stick around to find out." Maya grabs Magnus's arm as the demon screeches, lunging after them, and the four of them make a break for it.
Their footsteps sprint down the pathway, and as the sound of the screeching fades, Clary pulls Jace aside, leaning against a boiler. It's then that Maya notices that he's trembling, a terrified whimper escaping his lips as Clary rubs his back soothingly, "It’s okay. It’s okay." She swallows before looking at Maya with apprehension, "We need to split up."
"What?!" Maya protests, "Why?"
"We're acting too slow, " Clary sighs, "I'll stay and fight off the demon with Jace. You two are warlocks. It'll be easier if you work together to find the portal."
"I think she's right, " Magnus swallows, tense as Maya opens her mouth to refuse, "We don't have much time left before the rest of the demon's friends come running."
"You sure you'll be alright with him?" Maya raises an eyebrow, glancing at Jace, who's leaning heavily against Clary and looks as though he's one second away from hurling onto the ground.
"I'll be fine. We'll meet at the portal." Clary sighs, pushing Jace to stand up straighter. Her expression turns tense as another screech sounds from behind them, "Go!!"
Magnus grabs Maya and runs through the maze of pipes as the sounds of a tussle echoes from behind them. Her heels skid on the floor, dangerously close to falling, but she somehow manages to maintain her balance until Magnus stops in his tracks, almost falling on top of him before he catches her arm.
"What gives?!" Maya groans, as she rights herself. Magnus rolls his eyes and points to the wall in front of them. Maya squints, then gasps, noticing the blurry edges of the brick almost shimmering in the dull light around them, "We found it."
"Necklace?" Magnus quirks an eyebrow, holding out his hand. Maya rummages in her bag for and pulls out Clary's amulet, tearing the shard from the cord around it before placing it in Magnus's hands.
The warlock's hands glitter as a swirling void of magic escapes his fingertips, the glowing strands weaving together to form a portal. A whoosh emanates from within it and Maya smirks, "Bingo."
"Oh, great." Jace's weak voice emanates from behind them, and Maya feels a wave of alarm go down her spine, "You found it"
As Maya turns around, she hears Magnus's gasp, and her stomach immediately turns. Blood drips in rivulets down Jace's neck, staining his blue shirt as he groans, face dangerously pale as he leans against a shivering Clary, who looks up at Maya in fear, "The demon stabbed his neck with it's claws."
"Fuck, " Maya immediately moves closer to Jace, "Are you alright?"
"Just peachy, " His voice drips with sarcasm as Maya's fingertips glint with magic, "Feeling better than ever right now."
"He's back, isn't he?" Maya rolls her eyes. She pushes his head back, slightly, "Vulnera Sanentur." The wound draws together, slightly, but Maya's hope diminishes as it flies apart again, blood flowing out at an alarming rate, "Vulnera Sanentur!" Jace grits his teeth in pain, a guttural scream escaping his lips as Maya looks at Magnus in fear, "Why isn't it closing?"
"Demon venom, " The warlock eyes Maya's pocket, "Stele won't work either. He needs medical attention."
"Will Portaling him back to his own body cure him?" Clary questions him, desperately.
"No." Magnus sighs, , "Blood travels with you. It’s why your angelic powers still work here. The demon venom is in his blood."
"Then we have to get him back to the Institute in our dimension." Clary determines.
"No, we’ve gotta find Valentine." Jace groans out, his forehead damp with sweat as he tries to fight off the pain.
"Are you insane?!" Maya screams, tearing off a piece of her dress. She holds it to the wound to absorb some of the blood flow, "You're going to die if this gets any worse."
"Maya, we might not get another chance." Jace snaps, "This is too important."
"Than your life?" Clary scoffs.
"My life will mean nothing if we give Valentine a chance to murder all of us, " Jace grits out, "And I think you both know that."
In that moment, as Maya meets Clary's eyes, something twists deep inside her. She knew war would come with consequences, sacrifices, things they'd have to throw aside in pursuit of the greater good. But when the so-called collateral damage is standing right in front of her, it seems impossible to do so.
"Come on, " Clary says, finally, "We can figure out something on the way."
The two of them haul Jace up to the portal, who states to Magnus, "You’ll have to destroy the Portal after we go through."
"Why?" The warlock raises a confused eyebrow.
"To secure your dimension from all sides." He sighs, "Otherwise, if it stays open, you’ll be vulnerable to demon attacks again."
"I’ll take care of it, "Magnus nods, his head snapping back as a familiar screech sounds from behind them, " and the malodorous monstrosity behind us." He looks at Clary and Maya with a finality in his eyes, "Thank you."
"We should be thanking you." Maya laughs.
"No, you gave me back a life. I won’t forget it." His expression turns urgent, "Now, go."
The three of them throw themselves into the portal, and Maya's reality fractures itself into little shards of light.
Maya groans in pain as she opens her eyes, the muscles in her back feeling as though they've had bricks thrown at them. However, when she looks at the dusty floor around her, and sees a disoriented Clary and Jace stirring on the floor, Maya realizes that the exact opposite has happened — they've been thrown into the brick, or more accurately, into the wall of a building that looks as though it's falling into ruins.
"Where the fuck are we?" Maya mutters, pulling herself to her feet.
Just then, Jace groans in pain once more, and Clary rushes to his side, grasping his face in her hands as she checks for injuries, "Jace! It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here, it’s okay."
"No going back now." Jace groans. He gives her an expectant look, "Maya, iratze me, would you?"
Maya sighs, walking over to them and crouching down next to Jace. She pulls out her stele from her pocket, and lifts up the Shadowhunter's shirt, running the apparatus over the spiked rune on his ribs. Jace hisses at the burn and some of the blood flow stops, but the wound still gapes open.
"Magnus was right." Clary puts her head in her hands, "It’s not working."
"It's enough." Jace mutters, standing up with both Maya and Clary's help. They're in a narrow, dusty passageway, and as they step through a doorway, Maya notices a table stacked high with papers, and another with an array of dusty potions and flasks.
"What is all this?" Clary mutters, looking around them. Maya then notices that they're all back in their clothes from before, and she reaches into the pocket of her black leather to find her trusty knives stashed inside, "Looks like a lab of some sort."
"The makings of an army." Jace scans the room warily, "There’s no one here."
"Strange, " Just then, Maya spots a window, and sees a sign hanging over a nearby building. Her eyes latch onto the script outside, the Cyrillic-esque variation ringing a faint bell in her head, "Ukranian, " She mutters to herself, before her heart drops into her stomach with a sudden realization, "Are we in Chernobyl?"
"Chernobyl?!" Clary whirls around in shock, "Did Meliorn lie to us? He said that that Portal would take us to my father?"
"I swear to God—" Maya snaps, "I did not throw myself into an alternate dimension and Chernobyl just to be led on a wild goose—" Her rant is cut off as a loud clang issues from in front of them, Jace immediately jumping at the sound.
"Get behind me." He motions to the both of them, pulling out a Seraph blade as Maya grabs a knife in each hand, poised to strike as Jace calls out again, "Who's there?"
Suddenly, a man steps into view, Clary drawing her blade in her hand as the sound of the footsteps stops before them. But as his face is illuminated in the moonlight from the window — all blond and blue eyed and streaked with dried blood from whatever the actual fuck goes on in here — Maya feels Jace freeze, stopping in his tracks, "No. " He shudders, gasping. Maya sees his lower lip tremble, "It can’t be. It can’t be. You died. I saw it—"
"Jace?" Clary asks, visible panic taking over her face.
"Jace…" The man breathes out, and as Maya looks at his face, she sees details trigger an inkling of recognition, "Is it really you?"
The same nose, the same hair, the same lean, tall, muscular build. As the cogs turn in her brain, a familiar name pops into Maya's head, and her eyes turn wide in shock. What the actual—
"Jace, " Clary eyes him with apprehension, "How do you know this man?"
"Because — " Jace gasps, and Maya sees a tear run down his cheek, "Because he's my father."
i wrote this chapter over a few weeks so sorry for any inconsistent writing. the parallel universe was fun lmao, hope i did it justice.
- love
disha <3
Chapter 55: Chapter 55
Chapter Text
August 2016
The ruins of Chernobyl echoes in silence around them as a very not-dead Michael Wayland stares back at them in utter shock. There's a few moments where no one dares to breathe, to move, to blink, in case the startling moment fractures. But in the end, it's Jace's voice that breaks, "Dad?"
"Son." Michael sighs, before pulling his son into a bear hug, his fragile arms wrapping around Jace in an embrace so sudden it makes the Shadowhunter's balance falter for a little bit before he hugs his father back, "Oh, Jace. I can’t believe it." As the older man pulls back to inspect Jace's face, his face pales, eyes catching onto the wound still open on Jace's neck, "Son, you’re hurt. How did you find me?"
"You’re dead." Jace rasps out, his eyes filled with tears, "Valentine killed you." He looks around the room with scrutiny, "Valentine’s here."
"No, Jace. It’s me." Michael smiles, before his eyes turn to Clary and her, "I’m Michael Wayland. I’m Jace’s father. Look, I know what Jace told you, but I’ve been here for seven years. Valentine took off and left me."
"And Jocelyn Fairchild?" Clary's tone wavers, bordering on hopeful.
"He took her with him." Her face falls as Michael answers, "You are?"
"I’m Clary, her daughter." Clary swallows, visibly anxious, "Meliorn, the Seelie, told me that he was here with her."
Michael then looks at her, and Maya pauses, something instinctual tell her to choose her words carefully, "I'm Maya, a . . . friend of Jace's."
The aforementioned blond's eyes snap to her in confusion, but before he can raise his trademark eyebrow, Jace's body shudders and he jolts, hand flying to the wound on his neck. "Jace, no!" Clary runs to his side as he groans in pain, looking up at Michael in alarm, "It’s Ravener venom. He kept telling me he was all right—"
"We have to find your father, not my father." Jace gasps out, gritting his teeth, "Valentine’s…" He doubles over in pain, groaning louder this time.
"His stele. Where is it?" Michael desperately searches Jace's jacket, but as soon as his hand catches onto the ace of cups card that Clary gave to Jace for safekeeping earlier, the redhead snatches it from him, pocketing the card herself.
"Back pocket." Clary raises her eyebrows, reminding him.
"Back pocket." Michael sighs, and Maya's brows knit together as she sees a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, "Got it." He pulls out the stele and lifts up Jace's shirt, tracing the metal apparatus over the iratze on his ribs, but the rune barely flickers as Jace winces from the burn, the wound refusing to heal.
"What’s wrong?" Clary looks at Michael in confusion.
"The rune is weak." Michael sighs, "I don't think he'll stay awake for long."
"The venom's spreading, " Maya sighs, "We need to get him to the hospital."
"But the portal's closed" Clary looks at her anxiously.
"There's no need for that, " Michael butts in, just as Maya offers to make one, "Valentine’s got a standing Portal. Let’s go."
Maya raises an eyebrow as they walk down the hall, Jace heavily leaning on his father for support. She whispers to Clary, "He's interesting."
"Yeah, well, ten years of being experimented on might do that to you." Clary mutters.
"I guess, " Maya mutters, her wary eyes scanning his tall figure.
As Jace's head lolls on his shoulder, Michael grabs his son's face, desperate to help him stay conscious, "Hey, Jace, stay with me." He smiles, "Do you remember our first demon fight? We were way out past the Institute, way up at Kinshasa. You were only eight, but you were so brave. Do you remember what you said?"
" “I’m ready to die.” " Jace rasps out, weakly.
"And then I said, “Sometimes it’s as brave to live as it is to die.” " Michael laughs, softly, "Do you remember?"
"I do." He smiles up at his father, who pulls him closer, holding up Jace's lean frame with his bulkier one.
"I know you guys are having a moment and all, " Maya interrupts, "But unless Jace prefers bleeding out on the site of a nuclear disaster, we need to find Valentine's portal."
"The warlock's right, " Michael reluctantly pulls back from his portal; He looks at Maya and Clary with determination, "Let's get going,"
The door of Jade Wolf flies open as the four of them rush in, Clary and Michael holding up Jace as Maya catches sight of Simon and Luke sitting at a table. "We need help!" Clary calls out.
Simon and Luke rush to them, but the vampire stops in his tracks as a ray of sunlight hits the ground, "Clary, what happened?"
"We thought we found Valentine, but he was already gone." She answers, panicked. Both of them quickly set Jace down in a booth and Luke's entire face changes as he catches sight of Michael.
"Michael Wayland?" His voice changes to one of shock.
"Valentine took my mother with him, " Clary explains, "but we found Jace’s father."
"What?!" Simon sputters out, "I thought Valentine killed Jace’s father."
"He tried." Michael rolls his eyes, "Hello, Lucian."
"This can’t be." Luke looks like he's seen a ghost — well, an alive ghost, technically, "I thought I’d never see you again."
"I never thought I’d see anyone again." Michael smiles.
Luke's face changes as he catches sight of Jace, ""What happened?"
"Ravener demon got him, " Maya sighs, folding her arms over her chest, "The venom spread and my magic couldn't heal him. But if we take him to the Institute, they'll crucify all of us."
"Simon." Clary runs up to her friend, suddenly overcome with an idea, "Simon, there’s gotta be some kind of blood at Hotel DuMort. Please, could you call Raphael and can you ask him?"
"Can you get some water?" Michael sighs, looking at Luke.
"I’ll get some." The werewolf walks out.
"Calling won’t work." Simon sighs, "We have to do this in person. My van is in the garage. You drive, I’ll hide under a blanket to stay out of the sun, and there’s underground parking in the hotel. Maya, " His gaze snaps to her, "You need to help us negotiate with Raphael."
"Me?!" Maya sputters, "Why?"
"He asked for you when you were gone." Simon rolls his eyes. "Your presence might help our case."
"But you're the vampire!" She sputters out, "Wouldn't he listen to you more?"
"Look, we don't have time, " Michael snaps, interrupting them, "Jace is getting weaker. You need to hurry."
"Alright, " Clary sighs. She walks up to Jace and combs back his hair from his forehead, "Jace, listen to me. I’m coming back. Please, just hang on."
"Clary?" He asks, weakly.
"I'll be back soon, " Clary sighs, "Simon, Maya, let's go."
"If you die on me, I'll make sure your hair's green at your funeral." Maya mutters to Jace under her breath as Clary pulls her out the door.
The opulent lobby of the hotel Du Mort greets them as the three of them walk through the door. "Why can’t we just take what we need and leave?" Clary questions.
"If we were transfusing goat blood, no problem." Simon sighs, "But human blood, that’s against the Accords."
"I doubt interdimensional travel is legal either, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"I’m surprised you know that much." Raphael's voice booms from behind them and Simon yelps, jumping violently before he catches sight of the ever-sarcastic vampire.
"Why do you keep doing that to me?" Simon groans.
"If you worked on controlling your enhanced senses, as you should, you wouldn’t be surprised." Raphael raises a distasteful eyebrow once he turns his attention to Maya and Clary, "You really have to stop barging in here."
"Sorry, Raphael." Clary apologizes. She sighs, "We need blood."
"So I’ve heard. Human blood." He fixes them both with a sharp look, "Funny how those rules for Downworlders stop being such a big deal when you need our help."
Simon pulls Raphael back as he's about to walk away, speaking in a low voice, "Okay, listen. Last night, I bumped into Bernice." He sighs, "She overheard a couple of bridge and tunnel vamps gossiping about Camille."
"You said Camille took a leave of absence, right?" Raphael looks at him in confusion.
"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. They didn’t care about that." Simon frowns, "They said she kept around a couple of humans. Apparently, she’d feed on them, but never went all the way. What are they called? Sub… submissives?"
A horrifying bell rings in Maya's head, "Subjugates?!" She spits out, shocked, "Camille has subjugates?!"
"Keep your voice down!!" Raphael hisses at her, his eyes flashing, "Horrible things. Even Camille got sick of them."
"Okay, so, they’re gone. But keeping around human beings just to drain at cocktail hour, that’s against the Accords." Simon's eyes light up with an idea, "Camille had a taste for the real stuff. I know from experience. She had to have something on ice."
"I’m sorry." Raphael scoffs, "If you want to tattle to the Clave about Camille draining humans, fine. I’m the new administration."
"Yeah." Simon glares at him, "You could probably get over on them with that line, but you weren’t exactly an innocent bystander in my case."
"We agreed not to discuss that." Raphael's fists clench by his side as his voice hardens.
"Did we?" Simon's tone drips with sarcasm, "Funny, I can’t really remember. Hey, did you ever tell the Clave what Camille did to me?"
"You can’t." He looks shocked at the mention, "I’d be implicated."
"Or you could, you know, give us the blood and eliminate the risk entirely." Maya shrugs, feigning nonchalance in her tone as she pretends to inspect her nails, "I don't think wilfully letting a Shadowhunter die will look good on your case."
"I can’t believe you’d do this to me." He scoffs, "Blackmail."
"Oh, as if you haven't resorted to it before." Maya rolls her eyes at him.
"You’re getting off easy." Simon snaps at him.
Raphael glares at all of them for a moment before turning to a painting on his right and turning the frame to to the left. The painting slides away to reveal a cabinet full of canisters of blood, each embalzoned with a different blood group. The vampire casually turns back to them, "What's his type?"
"O." Clary answers before Maya can. A tint of red appears on her cheeks as Maya raises an eyebrow in her direction, "Uh—universal donor." Raphael, seemingly nonplussed, hands her two canisters, "Thank you. Let's get going."
"Yeah, not so fast." Raphael grabs Simon, "I like the way you handled yourself in this negotiation. Stick around."
"I’m ambassador to the werewolves." Simon looks visibly nervous, "It’s very time-consuming."
"Let me take that burden off of your shoulders." Raphael replies, smoothly, "As of now, you’ve been recalled. You’re advisor to the interim chapter president." Simon sighs in distaste, "Don’t complain." He gives Clary a perfunctory glance, "My new advisor has to stay here."
"It’s okay." Simon sighs, "Just go. Really."
"Thank you." Clary kisses Simon on the cheek before giving Raphael a grateful look, "Both of you"
"You." Raphael looks at Maya, "Kid. A word?"
"What for?" Maya raises an eyebrow, then shrinks back at the icy look on Raphael's face, "Alright, alright, I'm coming!"
Raphael drags her down the hall, and they walk down a flight of stairs before stopping in front of a door. Maya rubs her arm as he shoves her in front of it, giving him a withering look, "I don't need another lecture about my alliances."
"Wasn't planning on one." Raphael rolls his eyes before his expression turns serious, "It's about Camille."
"What about her?" Maya shrugs, "Isn't she taking a vacation or something?"
"You could say that." Raphael sighs in distaste.
"What did you do?" Maya raises an eyebrow.
"None of your business, " Raphael snaps, "Look, I don't know what you did to her, but that woman has it out for you."
"That's not a surprise, " Maya rolls her eyes, "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly well-liked."
"This is different." Raphael sighs, "The people who end up on bad terms with her have a habit of turning up as blood bags, or even worse — dead. You need to be careful."
"When am I not?" Maya shrugs.
"When you convinced the Seelies to throw you into an interdimensional portal in order to find Valentine, " Raphael rolls his eyes, "Meliorn talks."
"Whatever, " Maya rolls her eyes, "Look, can I just go now? Jace's life is in my hands."
"Actually . . . " Raphael sighs. He looks down at his watch, and Maya hears the sound of a car approaching, "The Uber's here. Go." He pushes her toward the door.
"Go?" Maya scoffs, "Go where?!"
"Magnus's." Raphael rolls his eyes, "That man is worried sick about you. He's been hounding me with calls for the past day."
"You can't just send me off whenever it's convenient for you!!" Maya sputters, "Why do you even care about my safety? Don't you hate my guts?"
"Not where Magnus is concerned. Besides, considering your current predicament — " He looks down at her with distaste, "— You need some sort of a father figure to keep you in check."
"Aren't you an orphan?" Maya scoffs.
"And yet I never ran around the city with my idiotic friends and tried to assassinate myself in order to find a bald, trigger-happy megalomaniac, " He covers his face with his suit sleeve before yanking open the door and shoving Maya out into the sunlight, "Be gone."
"This is child endangerment!" Maya yells out, as Raphael slams the door in her face.
"You didn't answer your phone—"
"Magnus—"
"You disappeared to Chernobyl —"
"I can explain—"
"You broke a Seelie out of the City of Bones—"
"To save his life—"
"You pissed off everyone at the Clave—"
"For a good reason—"
"And now—"
"Michael Wayland is alive!!" Maya screams, just as Magnus shouts, "Your mother's on her way here!!"
There's a pregnant pause in which they both look at each other with wide, shocked, eyes. Magnus sputters out, "What did you just say?!"
"What did I say?!" Maya stutters, "What did you just say?! My mother is coming back to New York?"
"Day after tomorrow, " Magnus rubs his temple, jaw clenching, "We're all going to have hell to pay. But don't try to change the subject. Michael Wayland is alive?!"
"We found him in the lab the portal took us to." Maya sighs, swallowing the lump in her throat, "Apparently Valentine imprisoned him for ten years."
"And Valentine wasn't there?" Magnus raises an eyebrow.
"Seems that way," Maya sighs.
"Interesting." Magnus muses, "Seems awfully convenient if you ask me."
"Wait . . " Something drops in Maya's chest, "When I said we needed to pick up the pace, he said 'The warlock's right.'" She looks up at him, her heart thudding in fear, "But I never told him I was one."
Magnus's face pales for a split second, but before he can open his mouth to answer, a knock sounds from the door. Alec's voice sounds from the door, his tone urgent, "Magnus? Are you home?"
"Hide!!" The older warlock hisses, grabbing Maya's arm, "He can't know you're here."
"What?!" Maya sputters, as quietly as she can, "Why?!"
"Just trust me, " Magnus pushes her behind a painted screen, "And stay silent."
"Magnus?!" Alec calls again from the door and the warlock's head whips in his direction.
"Coming!" Magnus pushes his coiffed hair back and lifts a finger to his lips before opening the door, leaning against the frame as casually as he can, "Tired of bickering over the guest list for your wedding?"
"I need to ask you something." Alec steps inside, brushing past him.
"Hmm." Magnus muses, turning around and putting his hands on his hips, "Will it take long? I have a life to live, " He glances over to the screen for a second, "And there’s not much for us to talk about."
"It’s not about me, or any of that." Alec clears his throat, "This is about my sister."
Magnus walks over to the nearby bar cart and pours himself a glass of whiskey, "Oh, I see. Are you referring to the fact that your adorable fiancée has Isabelle on trial for treason?"
Maya's heart stops. No. No no no no no no — what has she done?!
Magnus sits down on a nearby couch, "What can I do for you, Alec?"
"My sister wants you to be her defense attorney. I said I would ask." Alec sighs, "But I’m sorry to bother you. I know a Downworlder can’t defend a Shadowhunter in court."
"But a Shadowhunter accused of a crime can choose any advocate." Magnus raises an eyebrow.
"That can’t mean a Downworlder." Alec scoffs, and Maya feels that irrational wave of rage rear it's head up inside her again.
"The Clave was so rigid and prejudiced back in what they call the Time of Angels that they didn’t dream of a Shadowhunter asking a Downworlder for help. They didn’t even bother to exclude us. So, since, as you all say, " Magnus's tone turns mocking, " “the Law is the Law”, there’s no stopping me from slipping through this gaping loophole." He takes another sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows, "For the right price."
"Name it." Alec answers casually.
"You." Magnus smirks, looking directly into Alec's eyes, "In fact . . . " He bites his lower lip, trailing his eyes down Alec's lean, tall frame before looking up at him again, "I’ll do you pro bono."
There's a moment in which they both hold each other's gazes, a moment where the tension in the air is so charged and thick Maya feels as though she's intruding on something private, a moment where Alec's eyes drift to Magnus's lips and he lets out a shaky breath that's not audible to anyone but her. But just then, Alec rolls his eyes, breaking the spell, "Anything else?"
"What else is important to you? What else tells me that your sister means enough for you to make a real sacrifice?" Magnus masks his disappointment with a faint look of surprise, "Oh, I know. Your bow and quiver. How about that?"
Alec's gaze trails off for a moment before he nods in agreement, "Done." Then his eyes drift to the couch, and Maya realizes, with horror, that she's left her bag draped over the edge, "What is that?"
"Oh!" Magnus's face pales when he catches sight of the bag, "That's . . . mine."
"I could've sworn Maya has the same bag, " Alec looks down at Magnus with accusing eyes, "In fact, I remember her wearing it when she disappeared with Clary and Jace 48 hours ago, "
"I don't know what you're talking about." Magnus meets his gaze with a cool expression.
"Don't you?" Alec scoffs, raising a suspicious eyebrow. He looks around the room, and Maya doesn't dare to breathe as Alec's sapphire orbs land on the screen. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck —
Then, just as quickly as he saw her, Alec turns his attention back to Magnus, and his tone becomes even once more, "Well, if you see her, tell her to stay away from the Institute." His jaw clenches, "I don't want them to give them more reason to drag her into this than they already have."
"Noted." Magnus swallows, nervously glancing over to the screen.
Magnus absolutely forbids her from coming to the trial, saying that this is the one time following Nephilim orders may actually be safer than telling rationality to fuck off. So now, after locking her in and expressly forbidding her to contact Izzy in order to avoid any trace of her implication, Maya's left fiddling with the TV remote in order to be able to watch the trial on the Institute's cable channel, accessible only by input of a special code given to all Shadowhunters at the Institute.
"Ah, there!" Maya sighs, as Church crawls into her lap, the scene on the flat screen slowly coming into focus. The tense faces of the jury stare back at her as the camera pans to center stage, High Inquisitor Imogen Herondale seated on an ornate, throne-like chair as a Silent Brother holds up the Soul Sword to Magnus.
"Will I survive if I touch it?" He raises a cool eyebrow, looking as dashing as ever in his favorite navy-blue suit, and Maya catches Alec eyeing him from the defense's stand.
"If you tell the truth." Imogen smiles, thinly, as though deciding whether Izzy lives free or dies in the Gard is the least of her worries.
As Magnus puts his hands on the hilt, The Silent Brother speaks in his guttural tones, "By the power of this sword, do you swear to defend your client with integrity and honesty?"
"No argument from me on that." Magnus smiles, confidently letting go of the sword and striding over to a table in front of Imogen.
"Make your case, warlock." The High Inquisitor lifts a perfunctory brow, and Maya holds her breath as Magnus starts to speak. It's now or never.
"My case is simple." Magnus states, "It is true that Isabelle Lightwood acted against the orders of the Clave by trying to free the Seelie, Meliorn. But she did not act against the interests of the Clave. Preventing the forced questioning and possible death of a Seelie may have saved the Accords."
"We’re not here to speculate what might have happened if the defendant hadn’t interfered." Imogen looks as though she's resisting the urge to roll her eyes at him.
"You mean what might have happened if she hadn’t stopped the Silent Brothers from torturing a Seelie?" Magnus raises a knowing eyebrow.
"I await a valid argument." Imogen scoffs, "Do you have one?"
"What you really want is the Mortal Cup. My client doesn’t have it." Magnus laughs, softly, "Since this whole proceeding isn’t about what it’s really about, I move to have this case dismissed."
"You’re out of order." Imogen snaps, her patience clearly going thin.
"No." Magnus's expression grows icy, "This whole thing is out of order. It’s not Isabelle’s fault. It’s the Cup!" He snaps, gesticulating to the jury, "Put the Cup on trial!"
"Oh my God, " Maya gasps, as Church purrs in approval.
"Very well, " Imogen rolls her eyes, "I call Isabelle Lightwood to the stand, with Lydia Branwell acting as the prosecution."
The camera pans to Izzy, who walks up to the stand in a stunning dark blue dress that hugs her curves in an entirely fierce way, her stiletto heels clicking against the marble of the Institute floors. Her eyes are impenetrable as she sits down, face impassive as Lydia walks up to question her. The blond Shadowhunter speaks, "You have led us to believe that you alone carried out this operation. But Clary Fairchild was seen near the City of Bones that night."
Isabelle shrugs, casually, "Maybe she was out for a walk."
"And you expect us to believe that you distracted the guards, and escaped with the prisoner on your own?" Lydia scoffs, raising a suspicious eyebrow, "With no help from a certain warlock?"
"Pretty slick, right?" Izzy grins, looking up at Imogen, "And besides, Maya was with Magnus that night, sick in bed. It says right there in the case files."
"I suggest you think about how slick it would be when Valentine uses the Mortal Cup to raise an army of rogue Shadowhunters." Imogen snaps at her.
"I don’t want Valentine to succeed." Isabelle fires back, just as coldly.
"Well, that’s the first sane thing I’ve heard from you." Imogen scoffs.
"You know what’s insane?" Izzy snaps at the Inquisitor, "Thinking we have the right to treat a Downworlder’s life as worthless."
"Isabelle," Lydia's voice edges on caution, "I should warn you that everything you say here will be considered in the verdict."
"Good. Consider this." Izzy spits, standing up, "Valentine didn’t come out of nowhere. We use our angel blood to justify everything we do, just like him. Like him, we forget that we are not only angels. We are part mundane. We can be afraid. And fear makes us cruel." She stares at the crowd with a fire in her eyes, "And we turn our fear to Downworlders just as Valentine did. And just as he did, " Isabelle leans forward, pressing on, "We will end up turning on each other."
"You think we’re doing that to you?" Imogen looks at her questioningly.
"You have to answer that for yourself, Madam Inquisitor." Isabelle states, plainly, before the camera cuts to a break, court temporarily adjourned.
Maya lets out a long breath and flops back over the couch, covering her face with her hands as the sound of a commercial break fills the room. Her heart pounds with anticipation, but a small flare of hope ignites inside her. The case is a sham — she knows that much. Prosecuting Isabelle for supposed 'high treason' is just a cover to secure grip of the mortal cup, to nip a revolution in the bud. It's the same pattern of events that followed before Valentine rose to power. Laws bent, clave orders defied, the Nephilim government criticized for not doing enough — the Clave doesn't care whether Downworlders live or die as long as their interests are where they need to be. Locking the guilded cage that puts their own on a pedestal, no matter the cost for everyone else.
Just then, her phone ringing snaps Maya out of her reverie, and she sighs, picking up the call and wincing as none other than the voice of her favorite pain in the ass blasts out of the speakers, "Where the fuck are you?!"
"Hello to you too, " Maya rolls her eyes, "I'm at Magnus's. Safe and sound."
"What?" Clary sputters, "Why?!"
"Long story, " Maya sighs, "Anywho, Izzy's on trial at the Institute for helping Meliorn, and I've been ordered to stay here. I think the case is moving in our favor, though."
"God, everything I've heard about the Clave makes me like them even less, " Clary sighs, "I hope she's alright? "
"Eh, she seemed to hold up very well during the broadcast, " Maya shrugs, "Anyway, is Jace alright?"
"He's fine. Overexerting himself as usual " Clary's voice drops, "Look, something's not adding up about his dad."
"You're telling me." Maya rolls her eyes, "How did he know I was a warlock without me saying anything?"
"And how did he know my mom was pregnant with me before she left Valentine?" Clary counters, "He's different from what I expected, what Jace described him as in the falcon story. Loving—"
"Wait, " Maya stops her, surprised, "Jace told you the falcon story?!"
"Yeah." Clary sounds puzzled, "Why?"
"He's never told anyone except Alec." Maya's tone is surprised, recalling the bits and pieces that she learned from Izzy, "Wow, he must really trust you."
"If only I could say the same for his dad, " Clary sighs, but Maya can feel her blushing from the other end of the night, "How did you know Michael was dead?"
"Rumors." Maya shrugs, "When Jace showed up at the Institute, we assumed Michael got hit by a circle member wanting revenge. He died in front of Jace, so there wasn't much Maryse could ask without reducing him to tears again."
"Was that six years ago?" Clary questions.
"Around seven, " Maya frowns, "Why?"
"Seven . . . " Clary muses. Her voice drops for a second, "Shit. Look I have to go, but we're at Renwick's, so call us if you need us."
"Why are you at Renwick's?" Maya mutters, remembering the abandoned smallpox hospital on the East River.
"We think Valentine's moved his base camp there. It's immune from Shadowhunter tracking. " Clary sighs, "See you on the other side."
"No, wait—" Maya tries, but the redhead cuts the call. She places her phone down, frustration creeping into her bones. It feels odd to be sitting here with nothing to do, left out of all the action that's been going on around her the past few weeks. However, as she spots her trusty laptop sitting on the kitchen table, a sudden idea pops into her head.
Maybe she doesn't have to be a sitting duck after all.
As Maya's reading through an official report of Michael Wayland on her laptop from the Institute's recently-digitized archives, the trial flickers back on the TV screen, and she immediately closes her laptop. It's now or never.
Magnus requests Imogen, "I’d like to call Lydia Branwell to the stand."
The High Inquisitor purses her lips, "I don’t see the relevance."
"Well, that makes two of us. I don’t see the relevance of this whole trial." Magnus turns to Lydia, "Ms. Branwell? If you’ll take the stand?"
As the blond Shadowhunter walks up to her seat on the stage, Magnus strolls in front of her, "I just have one question. Why are you prosecuting this case?"
Maya sees Lydia hesitate for a second before Imogen presses on, "Answer the question, Counselor."
"Because the Law is hard, but it is the Law." Maya sees Magnus visibly roll his eyes at her words, but something subtly changes in Lydia's expression, and a spark grows in her eyes that Maya can't quite identify, "But that doesn’t make it right. We’re trying someone for being compassionate, thinking for herself. She saved a life that was being sacrificed for nothing."
"What the fuck?" Maya whispers, utterly astonished, as the High Inquisitor sounds, "That will be enough, Branwell."
"No, it isn’t." Lydia stands up, "I’m looking out at the faces here. " Her eyes land on Izzy, "A brother and sister who disagree on everything except for how much they love one another, and how loyal they are to each other." Then they land on Magnus, who looks shocked at her admission, "A man who took this case pretending to want payment in rare objects, but who really believes that injustices towards the members of his community are intolerable." Lydia looks back towards the crowd, "Loyalty, decency, compassion, love. These are the concepts that we should consider to decide guilt or innocence in a case like this."
"Those are not the concepts of the Law." Imogen scoffs, dismissing her, "Now, enough of this nonsense."
"I agree. The case is nonsense." Lydia sighs, pressing her hands together, "I withdraw the charges."
"Whoo!" Maya screams in euphoria as the roar of the crowd's applause sounds on the TV, Izzy running to hug her brother, then Magnus, as Lydia smiles at the scene. "You hear that, Church?" She yells, startling the grey feline, "We won!"
"Silence! Order!" However, the sound of Imogen's gavel cuts the celebration short, "Silence!" She yells. Her expression is bordering on rage as she looks on at the crowd, "If you think refusing to prosecute exculpates the defendant, you are wrong. She is guilty." The Inquisitor stands up, "The defense was correct. The Clave wants the Mortal Cup. If it is returned within 24 hours, this ruling will be vacated. If not, Isabelle Lightwood will be stripped of her runes and exiled from the society of the Shadowhunters forever."
As Imogen bangs the gavel once more, the camera cuts away, and Maya's heart drops into her stomach. They're screwed. Her eyes scan over the file on her laptop as she opens it once more, but they catch on one particular detail: "Date of death: June 17, 2010".
"What the hell?" Maya mutters. She switches from Michael Wayland's file to Valentine's and scrolls down until she finds the date of Death: June 14, 1999.
The threads of the theory in Maya's head start to weave themselves together as she looks up the day of the Uprising: 'June 13, 1999." Then she remembers Jace's arrival at the Institute, "June 20, 2010". Just past six years ago.
Wait. Wait, wait—
"Oh my God." Maya covers her mouth with her hands as the realization hits her like a ton of bricks, "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"
All this time, as they've traveled through dimensions and different countries looking for a mass murderer that could end all their lives with a snap of his fingers, they've forgotten an important fact — the people you love have the power to hurt you the most. All these little throwaway details that she's noticed, forgetting the things he should know whilst remembering things he shouldn't — they can only be because of one possible reason.
What if the reason they couldn't find him was because Valentine never left the lab? Or more accurately, left it with them?
Maya kicks the door open and hails a cab to Renwick's as fast as she can.
The night air is freezing around her as she sprints up the hill, her lungs burning as her feet carry her closer to the hospital. "Clary!! Jace!!" Maya screams, her voice an eerie screech in the fog around them, "Where are you?!"
She should've known. She should've known when she first saw him. There was no way a throwaway Shadowhunter like Michael Wayland could be able to survive six years being tortured and experimented on by someone as dangerous as Valentine Morgenstern. Renwick's was the perfect place to isolate them, cut them off and take them far away from the people who would protect them. Once he's killed Clary and Jace, nothing will stop him from taking the cup. And Izzy, by no fault of her own, will be exiled from the people she knew and loved.
This was never supposed to end well — Maya knows that deep down, wiping the tears streaming down her face as she runs. But the possibility of having her friends murdered because she couldn't figure out Valentine's mask fast enough is enough to send her running to save their lives. Even if she has to sacrifice hers in the process.
"Guys!!" Maya screams, her voice almost giving out as she forces it's volume to maximum capacity. Just then, she sees two familiar figures emerge from the fog, and sprints toward them at full speed, her legs almost giving out from how fast she runs. As Clary's eyes widen in shock, Maya launches herself at the redhead and wraps her in a bear hug. Clary stumbles for a second before hugging her back equally as hard, arms tightly wrapping around her body.
"You're alive. Both of you —" Maya pulls back, still clutching Clary tightly, who makes no move of letting go of her. She looks at Jace, her voice choked, "I — I was so scared — I thought he — he killed you — "
"Honestly, I feel like that would have been easier to handle." Jace mutters, quietly, and Maya sees tear tracks glittering in the dirt streaked on his face.
"What did he do?" She breathes out, her voice shaking. Maya looks between them both rapidly, "Are you injured? Did he hurt you?"
"Maya . . " Clary swallows, tightly, "Michael wasn't Jace's father."
"Yeah, I know." Maya replies, confused, "He was Valentine. There was probably a glamour — What's going on?"
"Michael Wayland wasn't my father, " Jace's voice shakes as he looks her in the eye, "But Valentine is."
"Obviously, you were running around with him all — " Maya stops in her tracks as the full meaning of Jace's words hit her like a train, "You don't mean — Is he?" She puts her hand over her mouth as she backs away from Clary and Jace, looking between both of them as the nausea crashes over her, "Oh my God. Oh my God."
Maya meets Jace's eyes in utter horror, "Are you two . . . siblings?!"
Just then, Luke's voice calls from behind them, and Maya sees him running towards them with a familiar figure draped in his hands, "I have her!!" He yells.
"Is that . . . . Jocelyn?" Maya whispers, noticing the unconscious woman's red hair, identical to the curls that grace Clary's shoulders.
"Yeah, " Clary looks at Maya, and there's none of the hope she expected to see, none of the joy that would come with finding your missing mother. Instead, a terrified teenage girl stares back at her, eyes reflecting the utter horror she's just experienced — and the fear at whatever will come next, "We found her."
heavy angst warning for the next few chaps.
Chapter 56: Chapter 56
Chapter Text
August 2016
AS SOON AS SHE CAN FIND HER THE NEXT MORNING, Maya wraps Izzy in a bear hug so tight it almost knocks the Shadowhunter to the floor.
"God, I missed you." Izzy mutters, later, as they lie on her bed, her dark hair fanning out over the pillows like a halo around her.
"I'm sorry I wasn't there for the trial, " Maya props herself up using an elbow, "I tried to come, but Magnus locked me in, and—"
"You don't need to explain yourself, " Izzy rolls her eyes, "They would have crucified you if you came. If we'd lost the case, you would've ended up in the Gard along with me."
"Would that be so bad, though?" Maya raises a playful eyebrow, "It'd be just like that girls trip we had planned — only with less debauchery and more eternal doom."
"Ever the charmer, aren't you?" Izzy cracks a smile at her.
"I'm not used to all this death and chaos, " Maya shrugs, "Lightening the mood helps." She gives Izzy a knowing look, "I'm really proud of you for how you handled the trial. Mouthing off to the Clave takes guts."
"It was the right thing to do, " Izzy swallows, softly, and Maya sees a hint of anxiety in her eyes, "Even if it almost cost me everything."
"Izzy, you saved someone's life." Maya grabs her face, looking her best friend directly in the eyes, "Lydia withdrew the charges because she genuinely believed in what you had to say. The Cup's in her hands now. You're safe."
"I know . . " Izzy sighs, "I know. But almost being exiled . . . it made me think. I feel like there's something coming for us . . . something big."
"Bigger than getting our throats slit by Valentine because we didn't fall in line?" Maya raises an eyebrow.
"Ah, yes, the proverbial sword hanging over our heads, " Izzy rolls her eyes, "How could I forget?"
"Siblings, " Maya scoffs, "Who would've thought?"
"God, " Izzy visibly cringes with revulsion, "Even thinking about it is icky. And the fact that they kissed without even knowing—"
"Stop. Just stop." Maya holds out a hand in protest, shuddering, "It's too early for incest."
"Ugh." Izzy gags, "Am I going to have to pull out a family tree at every first date?"
"Looks like it." Maya groans, faceplanting into a pillow. Her words come out muffled, "How's your older brother doing?"
"Preparing himself for his husbandly duties." Izzy falls back onto the bed, sighing in distaste, "This feels so wrong. He shouldn't have to sacrifice his happiness just because Mom and Dad decided to go and join the Circle."
"I know." Maya sighs, sitting up against the headboard, "But we can't change his mind. If he wants to be the lamb to the slaughter, so be it."
"What happened between you two?" Izzy narrows her eyes at Maya, "You've avoided him like the plague ever since the City of Bones."
Maya swallows, a familiar wound reopening as she thinks back to her earlier conversation with Alec, "It's nothing of importance." She sighs, swallowing down the hurt that threatens to choke her, "Look, as much as we all hate what's happening, I think voicing our opinions is just going to make things worse."
Izzy gives her an incredulous look, "You want to support him?"
"What other choice do we have?" Maya laughs, the sound hollow to her own ears, "Look, if Alec doesn't want to go through with it, it's up to him to stop the wedding. The only thing we can do is be there for reassurance."
"I guess so. " Izzy sighs, pausing for a moment. She looks up at Maya with a hint of pride, "When did you get so mature?"
"Desperate times call for sudden changes, " Maya rolls her eyes.
"There she is, " Izzy sighs, sitting up. She smiles, brushing a strand of stray hair out of Maya's eyes, "I almost thought you'd changed."
In that moment, Maya finds herself speechless at Izzy's words. There's a part of her that wants to agree, to pretend that she's fine. That this entire conflict hasn't made her question her ties, her loyalties, her family, her friends, even her existence. She's equal parts Shadowhunter and Demon, each side yanking her soul their way. But she's also human, and everyone around her seems to be forgetting to notice that. They're too eager to pull her to their arena of expertise, looking to increase their numbers and reassure themselves that they are, in fact, doing the right thing, when in reality, both sides are failing to notice the very thing that could have stopped this conflict in the first place — that they're more than just the blood that runs through their veins.
"Something wrong?" Izzy frowns, looking at Maya's silence with concern.
"Nothing." Maya manages a small smile.
"If you two are done with your gossip session, " Jace's drawl sounds from the door as Izzy rolls her eyes, "There's a meeting in the briefing room." His eyes flit to Maya, "With Magnus."
As Jace walks away, Maya turns her attention to Izzy, "Ready to watch this gathering turn into a passive-aggressive chaotic shitshow that somehow ends with many broken bones and a new lead?"
"Ready as I'll ever be, " Izzy sighs, throwing her arm around Maya's shoulders as they walk out of the room.
"While this conversation is no doubt scintillating, " Magnus rolls his eyes as Maya and Izzy walk up to the briefing table, "Remind me why we couldn’t do this at my place? At least here we’d have cocktails."
Clary looks aghast, "It’s 11:00 in the morning."
"Oh, it’s happy hour somewhere, my dear." Magnus smirks.
"We invited you here, Magnus, because Hodge can’t leave the Institute." Jace sighs, "He’s an important part of this mission."
"Well, then where is our tardy little tudor?" Magnus claps his hands, looking around the room, "There are certain individuals that I’d like to avoid, so let’s make this quick."
"Pardon the delay, Magnus." Hodge walks up to them, clutching a tablet, "I was following up on a lead. Now, we’ve narrowed down our list of warlocks to these three." He swipes a button on the tablet, and three faces appear on the screen. Maya can't place two of them, but the third sends a sudden wave of recognition through her — none other than Ragnor Fell.
"Why is Ragnor Fell up there?" Magnus raises a judgemental eyebrow, "He’s not more powerful than I am."
"Well, some would disagree." Hodge gives him a knowing look, "He is older than you."
Magnus makes a face, "Certainly not wiser."
"Who is Ragnor Fell?" Clary frowns.
"The former High Warlock of London." Maya answers.
"And one of my oldest friends." Magnus sighs, "Very prickly, likes to keep to himself."
"Okay, look." Hodge groans, "We just need to figure out which one of these warlocks had enough access to Jocelyn that they could create the potion for her without anyone discovering what they’d done."
Magnus's eyes light up as he seems to remember something, "By the early ’90s, Ragnor was a professor at the Shadowhunter Academy in Idris."
"Isn’t that when my mother lived there?" Clary questions, "Could he have made the potion for her?"
"The little bugger!" Magnus gasps, snapping his fingers, "That’s why he hasn’t responded to my fire message! Ever since Valentine began hunting warlocks, Ragnor’s been holed up in his secret country house just outside of London. For all I know, Ragnor suspected my fire message was a ploy by Valentine to lure him out of hiding. We’ll have to confront him face-to-face."
"You’re going on this mission?" Hodge looks surprised.
"Of course!" Magnus gives him an incredulous look, "I’m the only one Ragnor trusts. Besides, I’ve played my last hand here." He looks around the Institute, seemingly searching for a familiar Lightwood, "Even I know when to fold."
As Magnus stands up from his chair, none other than Lydia Branwell walks up to him, a reluctant Alec trailing behind her, "Magnus, I didn’t know you were here."
"That was the point." Magnus shifts, awkwardly placing his hands behind his back.
"We’re just on our way to greet a few representatives of the Clave who arrived early for tomorrow’s wedding." Lydia smiles, pleasantly, "How long are you staying?"
"What’s going on here?" Alec frowns, realizing that they're all gathered around the briefing room table, "Nobody told me about a meeting."
"Magnus figured out that Ragnor Fell is the warlock who can wake my mom." Clary explains, "We’re just bringing him back to the Institute."
"How can I help?" Alec sighs, putting his hands on his hips.
"We’re just recovering a warlock, Alec." Jace gives him a perfunctory nod, "We got this covered."
"Besides, you have emissaries from the Clave to meet." Magnus meets Alec directly in the eye, "You don’t wanna tarnish your family’s perfectly-crafted image, now do you?"
There's a moment in which everyone seems to feel the tension between them, a moment where Maya realizes how deep the bond between them runs. It's more than the secret glances and double entendres she's witnessed, more than the longing look in Alec's eyes and the quiet restraint in Magnus's. All this while, while she's been throwing her soul into roaring flames and hunting down demons, they've been dancing around each other in a way that's changed their relationship irrevocably, blurring the lines between acquaintance and lover. A relationship, that — considering the way Alec holds Magnus's gaze — neither of them want to let go of yet.
Lydia thankfully breaks the moment, "Again, lovely seeing you, Magnus." She pulls Alec by the arm as they walk away.
"Get ready." Jace clears his throat, avoiding eye contact with Clary. He glances down at Maya, "We leave in an hour."
After Magnus manages to portal them to London, he gestures across the wide expanse of grass in front of them, "Ragnor’s house is just across these fields."
"Let’s make this quick." Jace strides along with them, "We’ll talk to Ragnor and Portal him back to the Institute before anyone knows we’re gone."
"So, brother and sister, huh?" Magnus whistles, lowly.
"I don’t wanna talk about it." Jace snaps.
"What, so we’re just gonna be work buddies now?" Clary scoffs, catching up to him, "All about the mission, and totally ignore the huge bomb that just dropped on us."
"Yeah, sounds like a plan." Jace refuses to make eye contact with her, "What do you want me to say, Clary? That I was attracted to my sister?"
"Definitely not." Maya shudders in disgust, "Look, as much of a bombshell this is, can we please stop tal—"
"Point of fact, brother and sisters are often attracted to each other." Magnus interjects, "I once knew this one couple in ancient Egypt—"
"Magnus, not helping." Clary stops him just as Maya resists the urge to hurl all over the great plains of the English.
"Look, maybe this will all make sense when we wake up Jocelyn." Magnus sighs, "Since she is Jace’s mother as well, perhaps—"
Jace whips around and points an enraged finger at Magnus, "Don’t say that again. Maryse is my mother. At best, Jocelyn is the woman who abandoned me—"
"Hey, that is not true!" Clary yells at him, "My mother would never abandon her son. She thought you were dead—"
Jace scoffs, "Or maybe she just didn’t want me—"
"You don’t know her, Jace—" Clary seethes.
"That’s right, Clary, I don’t." He laughs, the sound hollow, "Do you?"
"I’m sorry I asked!!" Magnus screams, silencing both of them. He sighs, "I came with you to escape my relationship drama, not get a front row seat to yours!—"
Suddenly, Jace whips backward, furiously looking around them, "What was that?"
"Nice try, Jace." Clary scoffs, "You’re not getting out of this conversation that easily—"
"Look out!!" Magnus screams, and just before it can burn her, Maya sees a roaring wall of green smoke raging towards them. Magnus yanks her back as Clary does the same to Jace, the fire stopping millimetres before them, "Ragnor put up wards to protect his lair.
"Why is the fire green?" Clary frowns.
"It’s a wall of fire that only the pure of heart and intention can pass through." Magnus sighs, "Are you ready?"
The rest of them are ejected backwards as Clary steps into the wall of fire, disappearing before Maya can stop her. A few moments pass, in which they all stand in an awkward silence, before Maya feels a yanking sensation behind her belly button and she suddenly reappears on the inside of Ragnor's mansion, thrust with little gentleness into a rickety old armchair that makes a shoot of pain go up her spine. "Ow!!"
"Honestly, Ragnor, was that nonsense necessary?" Magnus scoffs, brushing the dust off his clothes with distaste.
"Of course." Ragnor smiles, his brown curls bouncing around his head as he strokes one of his horns, "She offered me anything." He gestures to Clary before giving Magnus a disdainful look, "You were only up to a timeshare of your flat in Paris. Yawn."
"All right, enough with the warlock games." Clary gives Ragnor a questioning look, "Can you really wake my mother?"
"Not without the Book of the White." Ragnor replies, curtly.
"What is the Book of the White?" Jace frowns.
"It’s an ancient book of warlock magic." Magnus sighs, "The spells in it are more powerful than most humans can comprehend."
"I possessed the book when your mother came to me, and I used its contents to create the potion." Ragnor's face changes, "Regrettably, I no longer have the book. I asked Jocelyn to hide it that Valentine might never find it."
"Ragnor, please, I have to get my mom back." Clary pleads, her voice growing desperate, "Is there any way to get the Book of the White?"
"Possibly." His eyes light up with an idea, "I may have something that can help us. Won’t be but a moment." Ragnor gets up and jogs up the stairs, his wily figure disappearing out of sight.
Clary turns to the rest of them, fear evident in her emerald eyes, "What do we do if he can’t find the book?"
"We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it." Jace mutters, under his breath
"It’s a bit drab, isn’t it?" Magnus looks around the room.
Maya rolls her eyes, "Oh, for the love of God, Magnus—"
"Ragnor!" Magnus yells, his eyes growing wide with horror. A screech from the foyer cuts her off, and Maya screams as she sees Ragnor's body thud onto the floor from the stairs, the familiar screech of a Shax demon disappearing as they all run to his side. The warlock's lips are splattered with blood as he chokes on his own, a vertical slit across his neck dripping over the hardwood floors.
"Creature took me—" Ragnor chokes, "—by surprise."
"How could a Shax demon get past Ragnor’s wards?" Clary looks at Maya in horror.
"It must have followed us." Jace growls, "Jumped through when the fire wall reset."
"Be still, my little dear cabbage. Your wounds are deep. Hold on, please." Magnus's hands shake as he tries to use his magic to heal Ragnor, but it's to no avail. Ragnor's eyes go glassy as he stops moving, the choking sounds escaping his lips subsiding, "No. No, no, no—"
"Magnus, I’m so sorry." Clary gasps, looking down at Ragnor, now a corpse.
"We have to leave, now." Jace pulls her back.
"We can’t." Clary looks at him in desperation, "Not until we find whatever it is Ragnor said could help us locate the Book of the White."
"It’s too dangerous." Jace tries to persuade her, "If one Shax demon found us, you can bet there are more on the way."
"We have to try!" Clary snaps.
"We don’t have time to scour through mountains of Ragnor’s stuff." Jace rolls his eyes.
Magnus's fingers snap twice, creating two different portals with ease, "Get back to the Institute." He gestures to Clary and Jace at the first portal before looking up at Maya, "I'll send all of his stuff through. See if you can find what you need." He looks down at Ragnor once again, a rage spreading over his face that Maya's never seen before, "Now leave me to take care of my friend."
"Magnus, I am—" Clary tries, her voice faltering.
"Go!" Magnus screams, his voice shaking with the exertion of his emotions, and they all scram.
Sorting through the books takes little work — it's mostly just antique Shakespeare and other manuscripts of playwrights Maya's never heard of. But no matter scouring charms or translating spells Maya casts, there's nothing remotely resembling the Book of the White. No scraps, crumbs, or weathered pieces of parchment that have any inkling of powerful magic. So she sighs, collapsing against an armchair and burying her face in her hands, hot tears springing to her eyes.
They just led Ragnor to his death for nothing — and robbed Magnus of the man who knew all his deepest secrets.
"Maya?" She lifts her head up, a familiar voice calling from the door of the room, "What're you doing?"
"Magnus." Maya breathes out, blinking several times before her vision clears. She looks up at him, noticing he's changed into more comfortable clothes, "You finished?"
"Just buried him." He replies, his voice tight in a way that unnerves her. Magnus's expression is blank, gesturing to the pile of books in front of her, "Found anything?"
"I tried everything. " Maya sighs, "Restoring charms, translations, cross-referencing with the Institute archives. But — " She looks down at the floor, not daring to meet his eyes as shame rises up in her throat, "There's nothing. Ragnor didn't have the book."
"Oh." A beat drops between them, Magnus letting out a heavy breath that makes something sink in Maya's chest.
"I'm sorry." She replies, her voice thick, "I should've known it was too dangerous."
"I know." Magnus sighs. He pauses before answering, "But Valentine would've tortured Ragnor to death if he'd found him earlier."
"Painless." Maya laughs, but the sound is hollow even to her own ears. She swallows, looking up at him, "I feel like that just makes it worse."
"Yeah." Magnus blows out a breath, looking down at the floor for a second. He looks up at her, frowning as he notices her appearance, "Are you alright?"
"I should be asking you that." Maya gives him an incredulous look.
"I'll live." Magnus replies, plainly, and the blank look in his eyes makes Maya realize he's Occluding; compartmentalizing the memories in his brain to fit into a box he'll never open, "I've been through worse."
"Magnus, I — " Maya chokes, for a second, as a wave of guilt overcomes her, "I'm so sorry. You haven't deserved what we've put you through."
"Don't apologize." His tone turns firm, "It was my job to protect you while your mother was gone."
"Not at the cost of your own life." Maya looks at him, shocked.
"It means nothing to me if you're safe — if all of us are safe." Magnus sighs, "Now that the news of Valentine being up and about is public, I know where to draw up my walls."
"Before, I — I used to think that we'd find a way to end this soon." Maya laughs, humourlessly, "That having the right book or brewing the right potion would solve things, somehow make Clary and Valentine disappear back into the underground. But it's taking everything from us instead."
"Only the dead will see the end of this war." Magnus mutters; He laughs, softly, "Or at least, that's what Plato said."
"You're really quoting philosophy at a time like this?" Maya raises an eyebrow.
"Well someone needs to be your jedi master." Magnus dramatically rolls his eyes, lightening the mood.
"Speaking of authority, " Maya clears her throat, "What's going on between you and Alec?'
"A question for the ages, " Magnus sighs, "Which you will never know the answer to since he's getting hitched."
"Riiight." Maya drawls, suspicion creeping into her tone, "Is that why there was a text from him saying he'd be over in five minutes for a last minute catch-up?"
Magnus looks shocked, "How did you?—"
"You left your phone here." Maya rolls her eyes, "Speaking of which, I'm going to go take a shower and pretend like I can't hear your lover's quarrel." Before walking away, she gives him a pained look, "I know you love your antique apartment, Magnus, but your walls are thin. Very thin."
By the time Maya's done drying her hair, Alec's voice floats over from the living room, and without shame, Maya tiptoes closer to the bathroom door to hear him better. His tone is tense, "You and I, we understand marriage very differently. I’m a Shadowhunter. This is about family, and tradition, honor—"
"Honor?" Magnus scoffs, and Maya hears him place down a glass, "Where’s the honor in living a lie?"
"What are you talking about?" Alec snaps.
"What about love?" She hears him walk closer to Alec, "Even Shadowhunters fall in love, Alec. Just tell me you’re in love with Lydia, and I’ll stop."
"I—I don’t know." His voice is a mixture of desire and restraint, "Why do you keep pushing? You’re confusing me."
"Confusion is part of it. That’s how you find out if something’s there." Magnus's tone is reassuring as he sighs, "Emotions are never black and white. They’re more like symptoms. You lose your breath every time they enter a room." Maya hears the sound of his footsteps, presumably walking around Alec. He snaps his fingers, "Your heart beats faster when they walk by. Your skin tingles when they stand close enough to feel their breath." Magnus exhales, and Maya hears Alec shudder, "I know you feel what I feel, Alec."
"You don’t have any clue what I feel, so back off." Alec scoffs, derision creeping into his tone, "This is all just a game to you, isn’t it?" He scoffs, Maya hearing his footsteps step back, "You flirt, you laugh, you use magic, but at the end of the day, what do you risk?" Alec's voice drops to a whisper, almost like he's afraid to admit something to himself, "Even if I did feel something for you, you want me to give up my life for you? I have to do what’s right for me." His voice becomes louder with every punctuated word, "I could lose my family, my career, everything!! You just don’t get it."
A tense beat pauses, and Maya hears Magnus walk over to the door, his footsteps clicking over the dark hardwood floors. "You have a choice to make." Maya hears the door open, and as she pushes the bathroom door open by a crack, she sees Magnus staring up at Alec with an impassive expression on his face, "I will not ask again."
Alec pauses, and Maya sees him hesitate. His hand hovers above the doorknob, shaking, as if he's unable to push himself, to stop the feelings that flicker in his eyes whenever he looks at a certain warlock. Maya sees him lean closer to Magnus, as if he doesn't want to let him go. But something stops him, and Alec's hand curls into a fist, leaving a forlorn Magnus in the doorway as his footsteps recede down the apartment hallway. Maya sees Magnus stand there for a moment, as if he's waiting, watching, hoping for any sign of a potential return. But as nothing happens, he presses the door shut, walking into the kitchen as if to distract himself.
"If he wanted to, " Maya sighs, under her breath, "He would."
Soft music floats out from the chapel the next evening as Maya's heels click on the Institute floor. The evergreen chiffon of her dress swirls around her ankles, a soft, off-shoulder creation she found on a last-minute run to Bloomingdale's last night. A pair of glittering jhumkas purchased from Mumbai last year hang at her ears, and she fidgets with her bangs, hoping the unintentonally messy updo she's managed to wrangle her hair into hasn't fallen apart yet.
"You look lovely, " Clary's red curls are half-pinned up as she approaches Maya, in a dark blue dress that follows her willowy curves before flaring out to the floor.
"Thank you, " Maya smiles, softly. She notes the redhead's appearance, "You look gorgeous as well."
"Look at you being nice today." Clary raises a pleased eyebrow, "Someone woke up on the right side of the bed this morning."
"Don't push it, Fray." Maya rolls her eyes, smacking Clary's arm, "I can still stab you in heels."
"Hey." Simon runs up to them, his suit similar in color to Clary's, "Sorry I’m late."
"Hey." Maya nods.
Simon smiles at her before turning back to Clary, "Did I miss anything? I left right at sunset."
"No, you’re right on time." She assures him.
"Cool." Simon smiles.
"Simon, you look incredible." Clary gasps, noticing his suit.
"Thanks." Simon grins, happily, "I borrowed one of Raphael’s suits. Embracing the new me and all."
As Clary and Simon hug, Maya notices everyone settling down in the Chapel, and she clears her throat, "Should we go find a place to sit?"
A few moments later, as they make themselves comfortable in the front row, a silent brother thuds down his scepter, and the noise of chatter quiets, "Attention. The ceremony is about to commence."
At his cue, Maya sees Isabelle make her way down the aisle, clothed in a beautiful golden sheath dress that makes her dark hair and tan skin stand out. She's holding a cushion as the maid of honor, and her eyes nervously meet Maya's as she walks up to Alec, who's in the customary white suit that Shadowhunters wear for marriage.
"Wow." Simon breathes out, entranced by the sight of her. Clary squeezes Maya's hand in excitement, grip relaxing as none other than the lovely bride walks through the door. Lydia looks surprisingly elegant in a mermaid gown that's edged with gold embroidery, her hair draped over one shoulder in a soft braid that lets some of the harshness fade from her features. A pure radiance seems to spill from her as Alec helps her up to the podium, and two of them smile a, meeting each other's eyes as the Silent brother speaks again.
"It is time for Alec Lightwood and Lydia Branwell to mark each other with the Wedded Union rune." His voice booms across the room, "A rune on the hand, a rune on the heart. A union is born."
As Lydia lifts the stele, taking Alec's wrist in her hand, Maya hears a door slam from the entrance, and she whirls around in her seat. Her heart races in her chest as she sees none other than Magnus standing in the entrance, his eyes sharp with determination as Maryse's face goes white, hissing, "What’s that warlock doing here?!"
"Maya, " Jace looks utterly shocked, "Did you invite him?"
"I did." Izzy cuts her off; Her eyes are filled with hope as she looks at him down the aisle, "But I didn’t think he’d show."
As Magnus makes his way down the aisle, Maryse strides toward him, rage creeping into her tone, "Magnus, leave this wedding now."
"Maryse, this is between me and your son." Magnus simply brushes past her; He stops a few feet away, directly looking into Alec's eyes, "I’ll leave if he asks me to."
"Are you gonna be okay, buddy?" Jace looks at Alec in concern, whose eyes are rooted to Magnus's lean, tall figure, dressed flamboyantly in a red velvet suit that emphasizes the sharp lines of his high cheekbones.
"Alec?" Lydia's eyes are soft and wide as she looks at him; His head snaps to her, "Hey."
"I—I can’t breathe." Alec stutters, his chest heaving as he looks at her in panic.
"I know." Lydia puts a reassuring hand on his chest, "It’s okay."
"I can’t do this." Alec shakes his head, stepping back from her. His eyes are utterly torn as he looks from Lydia to Magnus, "I thought we were doing the right thing — but, "He exhales, sharply, meeting her eyes in guilt, " — this — this isn’t it."
"You don’t have to explain." Lydia drops his wrist from her hold, handing the stele to the Silent Brother.
"Lydia, I’m so sorry—" Alec tries, but she cuts him off.
"You deserve to be happy." Lydia smiles, a pure, radiant smile that makes Maya crack one of her own as she gestures to Magnus, "Okay? I’ll be fine."
As Alec turns to the crowd, his eyes meet Maya's, and the conflict in them makes something break in her heart. She smiles at him in what she hopes is a reassuring way. All this tension between them for the past week, the anger, the hurt, the look of betrayal in his eyes as he saw her with Jace in the City of Bones — it melts like butter as he swallows, nervously, looking from her to Magnus as if asking for confirmation. He wants me to approve, Maya realizes, with a jolt of surprise.
"Go for it." She mouths, a grin spreading across her face. After all that he's done for them, Alec more than deserves to be happy.
A determined expression takes hold of Alec's features, striding down the podium even as his mother tries to stop him. Maryse grabs his arm, trying to pull him back, "Alec, what are you doing?!—"
"Enough." He holds out an authoritative hand, stopping Maryse directly in her tracks. Magnus looks utterly shocked as Alec strides toward him, and as he opens his mouth, Alec grabs the lapels of his suit — and pulls him into a searing kiss that elucidates a collective gasp from the room.
"Oh my God!" Simon's eyes are wide with shock as he laughs, surprised.
"Finally, huh?" Clary nudges Maya, a happy grin spreading across her face. Magnus pulls back slightly from, scanning Alec with worry, as if he's worried that he's pushed the Shadowhunter too far. But Alec simply looks at him as if he's the center of his world, and Magnus meets his lips softly, the warlock smiling into the kiss, "Thought they'd never get to it."
"I . . feel like maybe we shouldn't be watching this." Maya mutters, a blush rising to her cheeks at their very public display of affection.
"Are you kidding?" To Maya's uttery surprise, she finds none other than Brother Jeremiah standing with the rest of the Silent Brothers. He sniffles, softly, wiping a tear from his eye, "It's beautiful."
"You never cease to amaze me, Alec." Maya hears Magnus exclaim, as the two of them break apart.
"Yeah." Alec laughs, softly, the sound so hopeful and pure that it makes Maya's smile grow wider. However, the happy expression on his face soon drops as Maya notices the Lightwood parents storm out of the room, "What did I just do?"
A few moments later, as the crowd in the room lessons, everyone either mingling in groups or left, Izzy walks up to her brother, "Alec, I am so proud of you."
"Guys, that was incredible!!" Simon gushes, running up to them, "It was like watching the live version of The Graduate. You know, the Dustin Hoffman movie? The amazing one?" He gestures to a very confused-looking Magnus, "You were Ben. “Elaine!” " His voice reaches a high falsetto as he points to a bewildered Alec, "And you were Elaine. I mean, a taller, masculine, handsome version of her. But the altar, though, you were like, “Ben!” And then… and then now, you’re both sitting on the bus at the end of the movie, both totally stoked, but wondering, like “What are we gonna do now?” " Simon pants from the exertion, looking between the both of them with mirth, "You know?"
"Who invited the vampire?" Alec whispers to Magnus.
"Seriously?!" Simon sputters.
"So . . . " Maya sighs, as Alec's attention turns to her, "That was a turn of events."
"I'm uh — still processing everything." Alec's expression softens as he looks at her, "Maya, I owe you an apology."
"It doesn't matter now, Alec— " Maya tries, but he stops her.
"The way I treated you wasn't right." Alec sighs, guilt pervading his expression, "You were trying to warn me, and I didn't listen. Especially after everything you've done to protect us so far."
"Yeah, well—" Maya sighs, debating if she should say the next few words. She looks up at Alec, a soft smile on her face, "You do things for family."
"I — I'm family now?" Alec's eyes are wide with surprise.
"You always have been." Maya hugs him, and he returns the embrace with equal affection. She steps back, looking at all of them; Her eyes rest on Izzy and Jace, "All of you are."
The peaceful moment is broken as Maryse walks up to them, fuming, "What have you done, Alec? To us? To this family?"
"This isn’t about you." Alec snaps.
"Of course it is. You are either being selfish or naive. This wedding was your plan from the start. And now you have humiliated us in front of the most respected members of the Clave." Maryse scoffs, stepping back as she stares at her son with an unfathomable look in her eyes, "I don’t even recognize you anymore."
"I’m the same person I’ve always been." Alec looks down at his mother with no trace of regret in his eyes, "Now everything’s just out in the open."
Maryse looks at Magnus with a trace of heartbreak in her eyes, "And all for a Downworlder." She storms off before her husband can stop her.
"Just give her time." Robert sighs, looking at his wife's retreating figure.
"And you?" Alec raises an eyebrow at his father.
"I don’t really understand this. But . . . I suppose our world is changing." He looks between Alec and Magnus with curiosity, "How long has this been going on? Are you two in love?"
"Love? What? No. " Alec stutters, caught off guard for a second, "No, it’s — it’s, uh, it’s sort of a different —It’s not–"
Magnus saves him just in time, "It’s all very new."
"Right." He gives Magnus a curt nod before walking away, "I better go check on Mom."
"You know what I just realized?" Magnus looks at Alec in shock, "We still haven’t gone on our first date yet."
"Yeah, you’re right." Alec looks down at Magnus, surprised, "You wanna… I don’t know, get a drink sometime?"
"I would love that." Magnus smiles up at him, reaching up on his tiptoes to place a kiss on Alec's cheek.
"Great." Alec blushes, softly. He looks around at all of them expectantly, "So . . . uh, dinner?"
"I would hold that thought." Magnus pats his shoulder, softly. His expression changes completely as he looks at Maya, "There's been a new development."
"Meaning?" Maya frowns, confused.
"The reason we couldn't find the Book of The White was because Ragnor never had it." Magnus presses on.
"Then who did?" Maya looks at him in shock.
Magnus sighs, looking up at the ceiling as if he's gathering strength to utter his next words. Then, he looks Maya in the eyes, an apprehensive expression on his face, "Camille."
really hope i did the malec scene justice lmao.
also in light of recent events, i want to take a moment to acknowledge the current gaza conflict. a lot of the information we're getting from the media is very polarized and inaccurate, so i would encourage you to do your own research before you come to a conclusive judgement. i believe that you can have empathy for the israeli civilians whilst still acknowledging the brutality of netanyahu's actions, and support the palestinian cause while condemning hamas's bombings. my heart breaks for all the lives lost and families separated, and i genuinely hope that both sides can come to a peaceful resolution soon. also, please remember that this is absolutely no excuse for anti-semitism. if i see any in my comments, you will be blocked and i will report your account to the necessary authorities on quotev.
remember to check in on your jewish and palestinian friends, they need support more than ever right now. here's a fundraiser i found that may be of help (please donate if you're in the financial position to).
- stay strong,
disha <3
Chapter 57: Chapter 57
Chapter Text
tw: graphic violence at the end. do not read if you're easily triggered.
August 2016
"SHOULD WE REALLY BE GETTING COFFEE INSTEAD OF GOING THROUGH THE ARCHIVES?" Jace mutters, side-eyeing Maya's iced matcha latte as she takes a long sip.
"Clary was the one who told us to take a break, " Izzy rolls her eyes, bumping Maya's shoulder as they walk along the curb. Her lips close around the straw to her salted caramel frappe before she speaks again, "We've been working since three in the morning. It's only fair that we caffeinate ourselves as a reward."
"I highly doubt that raiding the Starbucks across the street was a wise use of our time." Alec grumbles behind them, holding Clary's Americano in one hand as he chugs his cold brew with the other, shuddering in disgust as he looks at their drinks, "Besides, that's not even coffee."
"You mean it's not depressing coffee." Jace pointedly takes a sip of his java chip frappucino, and Maya snickers, "Couldn't you have picked something more . . . festive?"
"To celebrate the fact that I came out in front of every single Shadowhunter we know?" Alec raises a cool eyebrow at him.
"No, to prove that you're not an actual psychopath." Maya scoffs, eyeing the drink in his hands with distaste.
"No cream, no sugar." Izzy wrinkles her nose at him, "What is wrong with you?"
"It's a sophisticated choice, Izzy." Alec haughtily rolls his eyes at them, "It means that I am simply more mature than you children—"
His foot catches onto the edge of the curve and Alec tumbles forward, Jace immediately lunging forward to catch him before he faceplants onto the sidewalk, grabbing Clary's drink before it can fly out of his hands, "Easy there, buddy." Jace mutters, as he rights his parabatai to his feet.
"Yes, Alec, your maturity is astounding." Maya's tone drips with sarcasm as Izzy.
"Morons." Alec mutters, brushing the dust off of his shirt, "Like any of you haven't fallen before."
"More like fell for a certain someone— ow!!" Jace yelps, as Alec elbows him directly in the ribs, "What gives, man?"
"Listen, I appreciate your support." Alec rolls his eyes, as they walk back through the doors of the Institute, "But are you guys ever going to let this incident go?"
"Never." Maya and Izzy high-five in unison.
"Speaking of support." Jace's face changes as Maya catches sight of Robert and Maryse standing near one of the monitors, "Your number one fans just showed up."
"Ah." Alec sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of his parents. He sighs, handing Jace his coffee, "Hold that for me, will you?"
"What?—" Jace sputters, as his parabatai walks away, Izzy following him. He looks at Maya in bewilderment, "Has he always been like this?"
"I think being with Magnus is loosening him up." Maya observes. She gives Jace a pointed look, "Want to go visit Clary in the hospital wing and pretend we can't hear their bickering?"
"You do that." Jace's jaw tightens at the mention of his apparent sister, "I'm uh — going to go catch up on laundry."
"Since when did you know how to use a washing machine?" Maya scoffs.
"Since five minutes ago." Jace shoves his phone in his pocket, avoiding her eyes, "Have fun."
"Wait." Maya grabs his forearm before he can leave. She meets his eyes, "You can't avoid her forever."
"I can try." Jace tries to shake her off, "Let me go, Maya—"
"No!" Maya scoffs, tightening her grip on him, "You can't run from your problems forever, Jace."
"I'm not running from anything." Jace shoves her off, "I just don't want to deal with this right now."
"I promise you, Clary's just as confused as you are—" Maya tries, but he cuts her off.
"You wouldn't understand." Jace's eyes flash her a warning glare. He steps away, head down, "I just need to be left alone right now."
"What— Jace — " Maya sputters, as he stalks away. She sees him fling Alec's drink into a nearby trash can, "God."
Just then, a commotion next to the monitors catches her attention. Alec tries to reason with Maryse, "Mom, I understand you’re upset, but this is—"
"Calling off the wedding would’ve been one thing, but kissing that warlock in front of the entire Institute?!" Maryse snaps, unbeknownst to the crowd watching them, "You've embarrassed all of us."
"Why?" Alec scoffs, "Because he's a guy?"
"No. The fact that he is a guy, as you say, is the least of my worries." Maryse glares up at her son.
Alec looks shocked, "Then what’s the problem?"
"That you chose Magnus Bane." Maryse presses on.
"His reputation precedes him. And even for a warlock, he’s a bit of a lothario." Robert grabs his son's shoulder, his blue eyes urgent, "Alec, there’s so much that you don’t know about him."
"Well, then I plan to get to know him. And if you have a problem with that, then I suggest you deal with it." Alec shakes Robert off, "Now, I have to go find Lydia."
"She’s probably packing for Idris in your father’s office." Maryse sucks in a sharp breath, "What she did—"
"Saved my life." Alec nods, curtly, "So I should go thank her." He glances in her direction, "Maya, you coming?"
"Yeah." She jogs over to him, grateful for the distraction. However, as Alec walks down the hall, Maya pauses at the sight of Maryse and Robert, and turns her gaze to them.
She sucks in a deep breath as Maryse looks at her in shock, "I didn't want to say anything, " Maya swallows, "But I think you both know this isn't right."
"And how would you know what is right?" Maryse snaps.
Robert places a hand on her shoulder in warning, "Maryse—"
"I don't. But I know Alec." Maya exhales, sharply. She forces herself to meet Maryse's eyes, "Whatever you're doing, it's hurting him. He's still your son, just not hiding parts of himself—"
"Controlling our emotions is what sets us apart from mundanes." Maryse scoffs, derisively, "That's the very foundation of being a Shadowhunter. But of course, you wouldn't know that—"
"Insult my ancestry all you want, Maryse. I couldn't care less about your opinion of me." Maya laughs, the sound hollow to your own ears. She looks the Shadowhunter directly in the eye, "You're the one who's pushing Alec away when he needs you the most."
Just then, a scream sounds from the study, and Maya's blood spikes in terror as Alec comes running toward her, his face white in terror.
"What happened?" She looks at him in shock.
"It's Lydia." Alec breathes out. His eyes look at Maya in fear, "Someone knocked her out. The Cup is gone."
Oh shit.
A half-hour later, Magnus is summoned to the Institute to take care of Lydia's injuries, and Clary joins Maya next to Izzy as she attempts to access the security footage from before.
"How’s Lydia?" The redhead pipes, as Alec walks over to them, his face tense.
'Better. Magnus is doing what he can to help her, but it’s bad." Alec sighs, rubbing a hand over his temple, "And the Cup is definitely missing."
"So is Hodge." Jace groans.
"Yeah, " Maya thinks aloud, "I haven't seen him since the wedding."
"Maybe he was attacked, too." Izzy frowns. A relieved expression spreads across her features as she finds the folder from the study, hands frantically clicking the keys to fast-forward the footage.
"Or maybe he’s the one who attacked her." Clary mutters, brows furrowing as she leans closer to the screen.
"Hodge? No way. " Izzy scoffs, rolling her eyes, "We’ve known him our entire lives. He would never do that to us—"
Just then, the thud of Lydia's body hitting the floor makes everyone's heads snap to the screen, and Maya gasps as she sees Hodge standing over her with a cracked vase in his hand, chest heaving as he pockets the card from her jacket. Her blood runs ice cold as she sees him stalk out of the room, hiding the vase in a briefcase easily overlooked.
There's a few moments before Jace breathes out a horrified, "I led him right to the Cup."
"We treated him like family." Alec's tone shakes as he speaks, "How could he do this to us?"
"That’s how." Clary answers for him, as Izzy clicks on a clip of Hodge fiddling with a ring on his finger, his mouth moving in silence as the audio is cut off, "What is that ring?"
"Looks like he’s talking to someone." Izzy mutters, scrutinizing the scene.
"And I can bet who it is." Jace scoffs.
"Well, that explains how he deactivated the Punishment rune, " Alec sighs.
"And how Valentine knew I was a warlock before I even opened my mouth." Maya mutters, looking at Alec in shock, "He was ratting us out all along."
"But it still doesn't explain how he got the ring." Izzy bites her lip in concentration.
"You think someone smuggled it past the wards?" Clary looks at Alec in question.
"Maybe." Jace raises an eyebrow at his parabatai, "Hodge wasn’t the only ex-Circle member around here."
"Look, I know I don’t always see eye to eye with my parents, but I know they’re not traitors." Izzy rolls her eyes.
"Really? Isn’t that what you just said about Hodge?" Jade scoffs, looking up at the screen, "It’d have to be someone we trusted, but if there was an intruder inside the Institute, we would have found them by now."
"What about the Forsaken attack?" Clary raises an eyebrow.
"No." Alec shakes his head, "We killed that thing and I didn’t see a ring."
Izzy muses, scrolling through footage of the attack, "He didn’t have one during the autopsy, but maybe there’s something in the footage."
"Wait," Alec holds up a hand to stop his sister. He points to a different part of the screen, "Go to the other camera."
"There." Jace breathes out, and the image pops up clear as day — Hodge casually pocketing the ring off of the diseased finger of a Forsaken, pulling the sheet back over the body to cover his tracks.
"It wasn't random." Clary gasps
"He was just the delivery boy." Jace's jaw tenses with anger.
"If he gives that Cup to Valentine, he’ll create an army of Shadowhunters." Alec's expression grows wide with horror, "With that kind of power behind him, he’ll kill thousands."
"He’ll kill thousands just creating the army." Izzy gives her brother an incredulous look, "Most mundanes won’t survive that."
"We won’t let that happen." Clary steps back, a determined expression on her face.
"I’m gonna make sure of it." Jace grits his teeth before stalking away once more.
"Ten bucks says he's going to do something stupid." Izzy whispers to Maya.
"You're on."
Sure enough, when Clary and Maya walk up to the Armory later, they see Jace and Alec gathering weapons without a care in the world.
"Jace, what are you doing?" Clary grabs his arm, alarmed.
"Every second we waste here, Hodge gets closer to Valentine." He shakes her off.
"Hey, we’re a team, all right?" Clary scoffs, "I know you’re mad right now, but Hodge could be dangerous."
"Two of us, one of him." Jace shrugs, avoiding her gaze, "Check the math, but I’m pretty sure he’s outnumbered."
"What is with you?" Clary glares at him, "Would you just talk to me for a second?"
"Lydia, Hodge—" He finally meets her eyes, "All this is happening because I didn’t stop Valentine."
"Jace, you cannot let emotions cloud your judgment." Clary raises both eyebrows at him, "Your words, remember?"
"What is happening?" Maya whispers to Alec, who gives her an equally bewildered look.
"When I first wanted to find my mom, I didn’t care about anyone else." Clary looks up at him, "But you were the one that taught me that it’s about a world that’s bigger than us."
"That’s why you need to wake her up. She was his prisoner, and his wife. If anyone can stop him, she can." Jace emphasizes.
"Jace, listen to me—" Clary tries, but he cuts her off.
"You can do this." Jace presses.
"Maybe I can. But it’s not about me, it’s you I’m worried about." Clary sputters, exasperated, "You cannot let Valentine’s evil poison you!"
"He’s my father." Jace scoffs.
"Actually, he’s our father." Clary corrects him.
"Guys, this is not the time— and he's leaving. Great." Maya groans as Jace walks away, Alec grabbing him just in time.
"Hey, " Alec stops him, "How are we gonna find Hodge? He didn’t leave anything we can track." His eyes light up with an idea, "I might be able to ask Magnus for help."
"You need to stop thinking with your stele, Alec." Jace flickers a glance down to Alec's crotch before walking away to make a phone call, "There’s more than one way to track."
"Why do we keep ending up here?" Maya groans, as Clary and Izzy drag her into the Hotel Du Mort once more, "It's the creepiest place on earth."
"I find that incredibly insulting." Raphael scoffs, walking toward them. He gazes at Izzy & Clary with utter disdain, "For Shadowhunters, you don’t seem to do a lot of Shadowhunting."
"There is more to the job than killing demons." Izzy rolls her eyes at the vampire.
"We need to talk to Camille." Clary gives Raphael a pointed look, "We know you have her here."
"We do?!" Maya whispers to Izzy, bewildered.
"You literally saw me track her here, Maya." Izzy gives her a pained expression.
"It’s true, but I’m afraid she’s a bit tied up at the moment." Raphael's expression hardens, "Is there something I can help you with?"
Simon runs up to them, "Just a second." He pulls Raphael aside, "Look, I know this sounds crazy, but we have to let them talk to Camille. She has a spell book that could wake up Jocelyn Fairchild. Valentine might have the Cup. The entire Downworld’s in danger."
"She’s far too dangerous." Raphael hisses at him, "Or did you already forget what happened last time you “talked” to her?"
"It’s not like she can kill me again." Simon mutters, shrinking back as Raphael glares at him.
'You said it yourself: if Valentine has the Cup, the entire Downworld is at risk. Camille will only make things worse." Raphael looks to the three of them, "I’ll bring you what’s left of Camille’s things, but speaking to her is out of the question."
"Her things?" Clary scoffs, "This isn’t the kind of book she would’ve just left sitting around."
Raphael shrugs a little too casually for Maya's liking, "I’m sorry, but that’s the best I can do."
"We’re supposed to be allies." Clary snaps at him.
"And we are. But Shadowhunters have no business interfering with the Night Children’s affairs." Raphael glares down at them, "You may look to the Clave for justice, but the vampires look to me. Camille stays where she is."
"You’re making a huge mistake—" Clary tries, but she stops in the middle of her words, and Maya sees Simon motioning for three of them, mouthing a 'Come on!' as he disappears down a hall, "—huh?"
"Did you say something?" Raphael raises a suspicious brow at them.
"Clary just lost her train of thought, " Izzy saves them just in time, a knowing glint in her eye as she gives Raphael the sweetest smile she can manage, "Now why don't we go look through Camille's marvelous collections?"
"Riiight." Raphael gives Maya a suspicious glance before motioning to a door on the left, "Follow me."
As soon as his back is turned, Maya and Clary scramble down the same hallway as Simon.
"This is a bad idea." Maya hisses, as she helps Simon roll a coffin down a dark passageway, the squeak of the wheels a painful screech as they move forward, "A very bad idea—"
"Can you stop saying that?" Simon huffs, rolling his eyes at her, "You're going to jinx this—"
"We're already jinxed this." Maya snaps at him, "Do you seriously think no one is going to notice us rolling this huge-ass—"
"It's a vampire's lair!" Simon hisses, glaring at her, "Stranger things have happened here—"
"Give me a second. I gotta deal with this." Maya's blood runs cold as a vampire in a dark shirt walks toward them, frowning suspiciously down at the coffin, "No one told me anything about a new prisoner."
"That’s because you’re not advisor to the interim chapter president., " Simon puffs up his chest, as Maya gives him an incredulous look, "I mean, you can take it up with Raphael if you want, but — uh — I wouldn’t — wouldn’t wanna tell you what happened to the last guy that challenged him."
The vampire turns to Maya, raising a suspicious brow, "Did he approve you as well? I've literally never seen you around here before."
"She's my assistant." Simon snaps, before Maya could answer, "Pooja Shawarma. Very — uh — " He looks down at her like he doesn't believe his own words, "Dangerous."
"Don’t go anywhere." The vampire glares at both of them before stalking away.
As soon as he's out of sight, Simon lets out a sharp exhale, slumping against coffin, "That was close."
"Pooja Shawarma?!" Maya sputters, "Really, Simon?!"
"What?" He protests, "I was hungry."
"God." Maya rolls her eyes at him, "Let's get this coffin to Camille's room before Raphael can find out."
A few moments later, the door opening with a quick alohomora (courtesy of Maya) — they roll the coffin into Camille's ornate room, opulent and filled with all the fanciful things she would expect the vampire to own. An identical coffin greets them inside the room, locked shut with chains encircling it. As Simon opens up the one they brought in, he helps Clary out of it, and the three of them eye the other coffin with apprehension.
"Sure this will work?" Simon raises an eyebrow at her.
"Izzy is a pro." Clary states, determined, "By the time that vamp finds Raphael, we’ll be long gone."
"Let’s get this over with." Maya snaps the shears in her hands, "We have no time to waste."
"If anyone catches us, we’re dead." Clary exhales, sharply.
"Some of us already are." Simon mutters under his breath. Clary smacks his shoulder. He walks up to the coffin alongside Maya, "Once we open this, there’s no going back. Everything we’ve done to unite the Downworld goes out the window."
"I wish there was another way, but if Valentine gets ahold of the Cup, there won’t be a Downworld left to unite." Clary chews her bottom lip with anxiety.
"Desperate times call for desperate measures." Maya sighs. With bated breath — and after Simon nods, she cuts the chains with the shears, letting them clatter to the phone as Simon gingerly pries open the coffin lid. Camille lies inside in all her glory, skin pale and smooth as her body lays still.
"She’s dead." Clary sputters, confused.
"Well, yeah. What’d you expect?" Simon scoffs, "She’s a vampire."
At that very moment, Camille's dark eyes fly open, and she lunges for Maya, almost flying out of the coffin with the speed she launches herself at her. However, Clary and Simon immediately run to her side, each holding a stake and a knife, and immediately yank Maya away before Camille's sharp claws can rip her face in two.
"Not so fast." The redhead hisses, pressing a knife to the vampire's throat.
Camille, however, seems utterly unperturbed at the thinly veiled threat, turning to Simon coolly, "What took you so long?"
"Excuse me?" Simon sputters, utterly confused. Maya notices his grip tighten on the stake in his hand.
"I knew you’d come back for your sire, just like you did before." Camille smirks, the sight making a shiver go down Maya's spine, "We’re forever linked, you and I."
"How do you know I don’t wanna stake you?" Simon raises an eyebrow, holding up the sharp object in his hand.
"Do you?" She cocks her head at him, casually.
"No." Much to Maya's surprise, he reluctantly puts down the stake.
"I certainly do." Clary rolls her eyes.
"Don't we all." Maya sighs, earning a glare from the vampire, "Alright, enough chit-chat. Where's the Book Of The White?"
"The book of the what?" Camille snaps.
"The Book of the White." Simon waves his hands around to gesticulate, "Big, white spell book. Kind of explains itself."
"Never heard of it." Camille shrugs.
"And yet we tracked it to you." Clary scoffs.
"Darling, what would I possibly want with a spell book?" Camille grins, catlike, and Maya decides that she's just about had enough of her.
"She's useless." Maya rolls her eyes, "Simon, put her back in the coffin—"
"Alright, alright!" As Simon makes a move to push her, Camille almost jumps out of her skin, holding her hands up in surrender, "You said it was a warlock book?"
"Yeah. I think my mom gave it to you. She ran an antique store." Clary questions, "Vampires sell that sort of stuff, right?"
"All the time." Camille shrugs, "But if your mother was even half as charming as you, I’m pretty sure I’d remember her."
"What about Dorothea Rollins?" Clary's eyes light up with an idea, "She was my mom’s assistant."
"Dot? Oh, but of course. She was our favorite customer. So your entire life has been paid for by my antiquities." Camille smiles, looking up at Clary with a hungry look in her eyes, "I guess that means you owe me."
"Do you know where it is or not?" Clary snaps, her patience running thin.
"It’s in my apartment on the Upper East Side. My own pied-à-terre. I can take you there, but you’ll have to get me out of here first." Camille notices the hesitation in the Maya and Simon's eyes meet, and she lies back down in the coffin, "Or you can leave me in here, and never get the book." Camille smirks, "Totally up to you."
There's a few moments of contemplation before Maya speaks up, "How do we know we can trust you?"
"You can't." Camille's dark eyes bore holes into hers, and Maya suddenly feels sick to her stomach, "But I'm your only chance left."
Just then, Simon's phone rings, and as he slides his fingers across the screen, Izzy's voice booms out from the speakers, "Guys, I distracted the vamps. Did you find her yet?"
"They did." Camille answers for them, climbing out of the coffin and sighing as her feet hit the cold floor. She looks at the three of them with incredulity, "What are we waiting for?"
After a dramatic showdown that almost involved them getting ripped apart by the entire vampire colony before Izzy swooped in and whisked the five of them down a secret tunnel, they walk to Camille's apartment. The vampire sighs in distaste at the dingy surroundings of the alleyway around them, "I think I’d have been better off just staying in the coffin."
"But you didn’t." Clary grumbles, "We got you out."
"Technically, I got her out." Maya punctuates.
"Noted." Clary rolls her eyes at Maya before turning to Camille, "Now, tell us where the book is."
"Patience, my dear—" Camille inspects her nails, casually, and nods at Simon, "There’s still one more thing I require of your pretty friend."
"And what might that be?" Izzy sighs.
"A Writ of Transmutation." Camille smiles, and Maya immediately feels her blood boil.
"Absolutely fucking not." She snaps.
"What the hell is that?" Simon sputters, bewildered.
"A document stating you asked her to turn you into a vampire." Izzy glares daggers at Camille.
"Signed and sealed in your blood, of course." The vampire continues, as though all this is just a game of chess to her.
"Haven’t you had enough of my blood?" Simon scoffs.
"Never. And I definitely don’t want the Clave to falsely accuse me of killing mundanes." Camille punctuates.
"You're absolutely insane if you think we're going to go through with this." Maya scoffs.
"You killed Simon." Clary growls, threateningly, "The least we could do is return the favor."
"And yet, the second I go up in smoke, so does any hope of you finding your precious book." Camille smirks, "I think we're at a stalemate, no?—"
Clary launches herself at the vampire with a roar of rage, and it takes every single ounce of strength in Maya's body to hold her back. However, with Simon's help, she manages to restrain the redhead, whispering in her ear, "She's not worth it."
There's a few minutes of uncomfortable silence before Simon asks, "So where do we get this document, huh?"
"I can’t imagine you have many friends left." Izzy rolls her eyes at Camille.
"I know a guy, " Camille's eyes flit to Maya as she grins, "And I think you know him too."
A familiar name pops into Maya's head as her insides twist with revulsion, "Why, you little—"
"So, Magnus, how long has it been?" Camille smirks, as her ex-boyfriend stares at all of them in shock from the doorway of his apartment, "Five years? Seven?"
"Twelve." Magnus snaps, smoldering down at her with utter revulsion on his face, "Oddly, I haven’t missed you."
"Of course you have, my love." Camille smirks, running a long finger down his chest before stalking inside the apartment.
"You four better have a good explanation as to why that heathen is inside my house." Magnus glares daggers down at her, Izzy, Simon & Clary, and Maya's mouth suddenly dries up.
"It's a long story." Clary sighs, "We'll catch up later. Right now, we need to find the Book of the White."
"And you will, but not without payment." Camille drawls out, as Magnus lets them inside, "You of all people should understand that, Magnus."
"What is it you require?" Magnus raises an eyebrow.
"A clean slate." Camille smiles, and for the millionth time today, Maya has to deeply resist the urge to slap it off her face.
"She wants a Writ of Turning-Me-Into-A-Vampire." Simon groans.
"And we need you to draft it." Clary finishes.
"Hmm." Magnus muses for a moment before his eyes harden, "I thought I was done with you."
Camille laughs coldly, "We’ll never be done with each other."
"I texted Alec for backup, " Izzy nudges Maya, scowling at the vampire as Clary pulls Simon to another room, "It's not wise to leave her alone with us here."
"Come on, Iz." Maya rolls her eyes, "She's not dumb enough to attack Clary or Simon in a room full of witnesses."
"I wasn't talking about them." Izzy gives her a knowing look.
"What is with you all?" Maya scoffs, "Everyone seems to think Camille has it out for me—"
"I saw what happened in the graveyard, Maya." Izzy interrupts her, and Maya's blood runs cold at the memory of the night they turned Simon. Fangs bared, mouth streaked with blood, an unhinged smile on her face as her finger slid across her neck in a plainly visible threat — You're next.
"She wouldn't do anything." Maya's voice is quiet and unsure when she speaks, "Not in front of Magnus."
"Still, " Izzy mutters, placing a firm hand on her shoulder, "Watch your back."
Their attention is brought back to the scene before them as Camille circles Magnus, watching carefully as he draws up the Writ, "You’re still upset by my dalliance with that short-lived Russian?"
"Upset?" Magnus scoffs, writing faster, "No. I gave up feeling anything for you over a century ago."
"Love is fleeting." Camille smirks, catching his eyes, "Even more so when you’re immortal."
Magnus inspects the writ by holding it up to the light, "And yet true love cannot die."
"But people can." She emphasizes.
"People are more than just toys for your amusement." He snaps.
"Hundreds of years old and still so naive. You wouldn’t know what to do with love if you found it. Or do you think you already have?" Camille cocks her head to the side, before leaning in and taking a deep whiff of Magnus's cologne. Her eyes widen in surprise, "Angel blood."
As Magnus opens his mouth to retort, Camille silences him by capturing his lips. His eyes widen in shock, making a noise of horrified protest as he almost throws her off of him. However, her intended effect seems to have been achieved — to her utter shock, Maya sees Alec standing in the doorway, his eyes fixed upon Camille in anger.
"Well," Magnus pauses, after a beat, "This is awkward."
"Where’s the book?" Alec clears his throat, avoiding the warlock's eyes.
"It’s complicated." Magnus nervously scratches the back of his neck.
"Clearly." Alec mutters under his breath.
"I have it." Camille smiles, sugary sweet.
Magnus's tone drips with sarcasm as he answers, "And she’s graciously offered it in exchange for her freedom."
"A freedom that apparently requires kissing Magnus." Maya snaps, glaring daggers at a smirking Camille, "Forcibly."
"We don’t negotiate with prisoners." Alec takes a threatening step forward, but Camille stops him.
"Prisoner? I beg to disagree. You see, I’m your only chance at saving the world." At this, Magnus violently shakes his head at Alec, mouthing 'She's insane!' as Camille continues, "You need me." Alec rolls his eyes as she steps closer, dragging her eyes down his tall frame, "You certainly have a type, don’t you, Magnus? He’s cute. Too bad it won’t last."
"Say that again and you won’t last." Izzy growls in rage.
"I’d say he’s about 20 years from male pattern baldness." Camille muses, looking up at Alec's hair.
"I don’t have time for this. Where’s Clary?" Alec scoffs, just as the aforementioned redhead walks into the room with Simon on her heels.
"Alec, did you find Hodge?" Her face lights up at the sight of him.
"Yeah," Alec's face changes, "But Valentine has the Cup."
"What?!" Maya and Isabelle shriek in unison.
"Where’s Jace?" Clary's face goes white, "Is he okay?"
"He went after Valentine by himself. It’s like he’s totally lost it." Alec stammers, "I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen—"
"We need to go after him, " Maya mutters rolling up her sleeves, "He's not thinking straight, and if this is any indication—"
"We can't." Alec stops her before she can walk out the door, "Luke is out looking for him. Jace wants us to stay on mission. That means we have to find the book."
"So we're just going to leave him wherever he is?" Maya scoffs, "Being reckless and risking his neck just to prove something?"
"He's had years of training, " Alec's grip on her tightens, "He'll be fine."
"Alec's right." Simon sighs, rubbing his temple in frustration, "We have to wake up Clary's mom."
Clary swallows, anxious, "It’s our only way to stop Valentine."
"Ready to sign?" Camille holds up the writ, a catlike grin on her face as Magnus puts his own in his hands next to her.
"Take us to the apartment, give us the book, then you can have your pardon." Simon raises his eyebrows like he's daring her to counter.
There's a few moments where Camille glares at him so viciously that it wouldn't be far off for her to jump at him across the table. Then, she lets out a long breath and rolls her eyes, "I wouldn’t have it any other way."
"Of course she has better parking than me." Magnus mutters under his breath as they step into Camille's opulent flat, velvet curtains drawn tight over the large windows in order to block out any lights.
"We have bigger problems right now, Magnus." Maya rolls her eyes at his antics, her stomach tightening at the reckless actions of a certain blond Shadowhunter. She should've known he'd do something like this, with how out character he's been for the past few days. But foolishly, Maya thought he would have known better, what, with his whole speech about emotions over logic when Clary first arrived.
Apparently, he's a massive fucking hypocrite.
"I still don’t get it." Clary looks at Camille in confusion, "Why do you have this place if you live at Hotel DuMort?"
"The DuMort has too many rules. Think of it like Gracie Mansion. It’s the official residence, but it doesn’t mean I have to live there." Camille drawls, a smirk spreading across her face, "This place gives me the freedom to indulge in certain… proclivities."
"I'm sure the mayor has the same problem." Simon mutters, resentfully. She grabs his finger and stabs it with a needle, making him hiss as a bead of blood comes to the surface, "Ow! Hey!"
"Come with me." She drags him over to a table and places down the writ, handing him a quill, "On the dotted line."
Clary looks at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to do anything else. But before she can stop him, Simon dips the quill into the blood on his finger, and scrawls a signature onto the Writ, effectively absolving Camille of all the crimes she's committed against him.
"Thank you." Camille smiles, taking the Writ from him.
"He did what you asked." Clary snaps at her, "Now give us the Book of the White."
"I’d love to." Camille sighs, pouting, "But I can’t. I have no idea where it is."
"Dot gave it to you." Izzy scoffs.
"I’m sure it’s here somewhere. But if the idea was to hide it, telling me would defeat the purpose." Camille shrugs, "Dot must have put it somewhere when I wasn’t looking."
"So we have to search the whole apartment?" Simon gasps in disbelief.
"See? That’s the spirit. Although, I’d start now." Camille smirks once more, "I’ve got four more rooms just like this one. Goodbye, Simon. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you."
"Wait—" Simon holds out a hand to stop her but it's of no avail.
"I wish I could, my little caramel." Camille croons, feigning disappointment, "But don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon." And just before anyone can grab her, she vaporizes into thin air, eyes meeting Maya's for a fleeting second before Camille disappears.
"I hate it when she does that." Simon groans.
As soon as she hears the line click, Maya lets out a long exhale before hissing, "You have a lot of explaining to do, motherfucker."
"How sweet of you." Maya can hear the smirk in Jace's voice from the other end of the line, "I'll remember your profound words when I'm slitting Valentine's throat."
"Who the fuck told you to go after him?!" Maya sputters, "Better yet, why would you do something that deluded?!—"
"Every minute he's alive is another minute the Shadow world is in danger." Jace cuts her off, "We can't afford to pass up the chance—"
"We?!" Maya scoffs, "We didn't do anything. You did this for you—"
"You think I want to do this?" Jace snaps at her, "Running around, following him—"
"You're tailing him?!" Maya shrieks, "Are you trying to get yourself killed—"
"I'm not going to die—" Jace's patience grows thin, "I know how to fight—"
"For fuck's sake, Jace, don't you get it?!" Maya yells, absolutely exasperated. The weight of the day seems like it's all resting on her shoulders as she fumes, "This isn't about saving the Shadow world or being noble or sacrificial or any of that disingenuous crap you keep spouting. This is about you and your fears and the fact that you've been pushing us all away because you feel like you failed when you couldn't press your blade to Valentine's throat." She swallows the lump in her throat, eyes burning with unshed tears, "But that doesn't mean you need to let him rip yours out—"
"You're being insane." Jace scoffs.
"No, you're being selfish." Maya snaps, "I care about you, asshole. That's what friends do. And it is my fucking job to tell you when you're screwing up, whether you like it or not. I know this isn't you talking, so cut the crap, will you?"
There's a few moments of utter silence from the other end of the line, a few moments where Maya feels like she's crossed an invisible line between them. Her own heavy breathing fills her ears as Jace sighs, a long, drawn-out, exhausted sigh that sounds like it carries the weight of both their exhaustion — at his stubbornness, at her refusal, at the fact that he's lost and scared and in the darkest place she's ever seen him and still choosing to fight despite everything — even if it ends with him in an unmarked grave and her scattering his ashes over the Hudson river. Then Jace speaks again, "He's coming for you all. Get out of Camille's place while you can—"
"What—" Maya sputters, "How did you know—"
"Raphael talks." Jace interrupts her before his tone softens, making her heart twist in pain, "See you on the other side, alright?"
"Jace, no—" Maya yells, but he cuts the call before she can finish.
We're all going to die, is her first thought as she bolts to the next room, throwing open the door as Clary and Simon run up to her. The room spins as Simon fist-pumps the air, before yelling, "We found the book!"
"It was in one of Camille's old cookbooks!" Clary pipes up, excitedly, as she holds a pale, threadbare-looking book to her chest, "There was a bookmark and—"
"Valentine's coming for us." Maya blurts it out before she can stop herself, clapping her hands over her mouth in shock.
"Chicken tetrazzini for the win — wait, what?!" Simon stops in the middle of his sentence.
"Are—are you serious?!" Clary stutters, green eyes wide with horror.
"Yeah." Her voice is a croak when she speaks again, sounding defeated to her own ears, "Jace called. He's on his way here. We don't have much time." Maya whirls around, looking frantically around for her friends, "Where's Izzy and—"
"Clarissa." A terrifiying chill goes down Maya's spine as a familiar pair of boots walk through the front door of Camille's apartment, "So good to see you again." Valentine smiles.
On either side of him, his men hold Izzy and Alec captive, blades held at their throats as their hands are raised up in surrender. Izzy's eyes meet hers in fear as Valentine cocks up an inquisitive brow, tone casual as a summer's day, "Where’s your brother?"
"You think I’d tell you?" Clary spits, venomously.
"You won’t have to." His lips curl in a chilling smile.
Before Maya can stop him, Simon runs in front of Clary, pushing Valentine back with enough force to make him stagger, "Stay away from her!" He screams, before Valentine shoves him to the ground, kicking him hard enough in the stomach to make the vampire curl in on himself.
"Simon!" Isabelle screams, elbowing the Circle member in the face to break free. But as Maya throws herself in between Valentine and Clary, knife yanked out of her jacket and pressed to the delicate skin of Valentine's throat, he simply smiles down at her.
"Take another step, and I swear to God, I will splatter your insides all over these tiles." Maya hisses.
"Maya, don't—" Clary pleads.
"Oh, really?" Maya gasps, her air supply being cut off as Valentine grabs ahold of her neck, squeezing hard enough to make her head spin, "You're going to fail just like your friends—"
"Stop!" Jace's voice sounds from the door, running in as he brandishes his sharp blade, "This time you’re not getting away."
"Finally ready to kill your own father?" Valentine chuckles. He drags Maya in front of him, nails digging into the sides of her neck as she chokes, struggling to free herself.
"You abandoned me—" Jace hisses, eyes flashing with rage.
"I was protecting you." Valentine emphasizes, tightening his grip on Maya as her head starts to swim, "You weren’t ready then, but you’ve grown. You’ve become the warrior I’ve trained you to be. And yet, I still have so much to teach you. I brought you here for a reason. Look, fight me—" He grabs a blade out of his jacket and lets go of Maya's neck, but before she has a chance to gasp for air, he presses the blade to her throat, making her freeze, "—and watch your friends die."
"Maya, no—!!" Magnus screams at the sight of her in Valentine's grasp, struggling against a Circle member as he's dragged into the room, hands bound behind his back.
"Let us go. You can have the book." Clary's voice shakes as she walks up to him, "We won’t be able to stop you without it."
"Clarissa. So like your mother. Willing to do anything for those that you love. I’m touched." Valentine smiles, "But the book was never part of my plan. I want you to wake up your mother. I know that you’ll both join me eventually." She shrinks back as he reaches out to touch her, "It’s fated."
"Let her go." Magnus begs, his chest heaving as he looks at Valentine with desperation, "Please, Maya hasn't done anything—"
"Ah, " Valentine stops him with a raise of his finger, digging the tip of the blade into Maya's neck so hard a bead of blood appears, "That's for Jonathan here to decide." His eyes bore into Jace, who looks down at her with a kind of fear Maya's never seen before, "Join me, and all of these children live." He waves his free hand to gesticulate, "Or defy me, and this apartment burns to the ground with them inside."
There's conflict in Jace's eyes as his voice shakes, blade unsteady in his hands, "If I go with you, promise me you won’t hurt her." His eyes flit down to Maya for a second before looking around at everyone else, "Or any of them."
"You have my word." Valentine nods.
As soon as Jace drops the blade, Valentine releases her, shoving Maya so hard her body almost hits the floor. She scrambles to her feet as Clary runs up to Jace, tears streaming down her pale face, "Jace, what are you doing? You can’t be serious! Valentine is wrong. You’re not like him—"
"You don’t know that, Clary." Jace breathes out, shakily, "You don’t know that."
"Jace, I—I know you." Maya stammers, panic catching in her chest, "You're a good person, no matter whose son you are. You don't belong with him—"
"Maybe I do." Jace's expression is unreadable as he steps back from them brandishing his blade as the Circle members let the rest of them go, "Maybe I always have."
"Jace, you're not thinking straight—" Alec tries, stepping closer to him, but the blond pushes him back with the tip of his blade.
"Get back!" Jace yells, at all of them, his voice shaking, "I don't want you to get hurt."
"Jace, please." Izzy's voice is soft as she tries to reason with him, the familiar shimmer of a portal glittering behind Jace as Valentine conjures it with his stele, "You don't have to do this—"
"There's no other way, Izzy." Jace swallows, deeply, as Valentine grabs his arm, pulling him back.
As his eyes meet Maya's, she pleads with him, silently. He's the same boy who shared their couch when Maryse took him in, the one who'd ruffle her hair and steal her ice cream but threaten to punch anyone who looked down on her blood. The boy who taught her how to fight like a warrior, endless sessions in the training room sparring against each other as Izzy and Alec watched with anticipation. The boy who'd hugged her tight after the events of her fourth year, who'd helped her pick out jewellery for the yule ball, who's schemed alongside her all this time and is now bartering his life to protect hers — even though Maya knows she never will deserve it in a million lifetimes.
"Take care of her for me, yeah?" Jace's voice breaks as he smiles, a tear running down his cheek as he chokes, "Stay — stay out of trouble."
"Jace, " Maya's voice cracks, "I'm sorry—"
"Don't." He stops her in her tracks, eyes shining with tears as he sniffles, "This was my choice."
Everything seems to occur in slow motion after that— Maya screams as Jace throws himself into the portal, Clary's horrified No! echoing throughout the room as Valentine and his men disappear mere seconds after. It feels like something's mangled inside her, tears running down her face as Magnus places a shaking hand on her shoulder, "Maya?" He breathes out, shakily.
Before she can stop herself, Maya bolts from the apartment, ignoring the calls of her friends behind her.
He's gone is Maya's only thought as she sinks down onto the floor of her living room, choking sobs escaping her lips as her hands shake, He's gone and it's because of me.
If only she'd sought him out earlier, asked him what was wrong, he wouldn't have gone through with it. Maybe Jace would still be here, with hope in his eyes and relief in his heart as a seraph blade protruded out of Valentine's chest. Maybe he'd have laughed, he'd have smiled, done anything else instead of thrown his soul into the hands of a power-hungry megalomaniac to save theirs from being sent straight to hell. Only this is the beginning of something much worse, and somehow, she knows that this isn't the last they'll see of Valentine and his games.
"I can't breathe—" Maya chokes out, gasping as air struggles to fill her lungs, "I can't—"
"You won't need to, darling." Camille's voice sounds from behind her, and before she can whirl around, Maya feels her body slam into a shelf, and screams, something cracking under her as she falls to the floor.
"What — what do you want from me?" Pain radiates from Maya's bones as she shrinks backward, every step of Camille's heels toward her feeling like a knife jab. She grabs a shard of glass, her knife having been ejected from her during the fall, and strikes at Camille's leg, but the vampire kicks her hand away before she can break skin, stepping down on Maya's hand as she groans in pain, "How are you even here—"
"I have my ways." Camille yanks Maya up by her hair and slams her into the window, her brain rattling around in her skull with the force of impact, "But they're nothing you need to know about. Or rather—" She tightens her grip, and Maya grimaces at the sting in her scalp, "—about something you know."
"Get over yourself." Maya brings her hand back, and slaps Camille across the face so hard the sound echoes throughout the room; The vampire staggers back, disoriented, and Maya backs away, "The world doesn't revolve around you, Camille."
"Don't play dumb." Camille tuts, "I know what Raphael told you."
"What?" Maya scoffs, "That you're a self-centered, egotistical, narcissistic bitch who doesn't deserve Magnus in any—"
She doesn't get time to finish her sentence, as Camille lets out a roar of rage and launches a nearby book at her head. Maya manages to duck, but it hits her shoulder, knocking her against the dresser as Camille stalks toward her. Maya's foot collides hard with her shin, sending her to her knees for a moment, but it's not long before Camille grabs her thigh and yanks her down the ground. Her hands encircle Maya's neck as she pins her to the floor, fingers digging into the bruises from Valentine's manhandling earlier. "You're an infuriating little thing, aren't you. But oh so gullible."
"What — what are you even talking about?" Maya chokes out, digging her nails into Camille's hands in an attempt to dislodge her grip.
"A little bird on the inside heard Raphael letting the news of my subjugates slip to you and lovely Simon." Camille laughs, "I know he's scared enough to not squeal, but you, on the other hand — you have incentive to."
"You're keeping humans around as blood bags to use. It's illegal." Maya chokes. She reaches up and swipes her hand across Camille's face, nails leaving marks deep enough to draw blood, "And sloppy. Even for you."
"You see, Raphael can't go to the Clave himself, what, being the leader of the clan and all." Camille muses, softly, "But say, you divulged this little nugget to Magnus — or worse, your mother. My business interests would be sabotaged. There would be nothing for me to survive on."
"You'd be dead before they found out." Maya gasps, kneeing Camille in the groin hard enough to make her fall back. She scrambles unsteadily to her feet, her head spinning with adrenaline and lack of oxygen as her hands spark faintly, "Confringo." She snaps her fingers again, panic rising up like bile in her throat, "Confringo!" Weak sparks shoot from the tips, "No, no, no—"
"What's wrong, warlock?" Camille mocks, rising up to her feet, "Lost your magic touch?"
Just as the vampire lunges toward her, Maya grabs a vase from the dresser and launches it at Camille's head. The ceramic shatters as soon as it hits her, and the vampire wobbles, eyes glazing over as blood trickles down the back of her neck. But as Maya makes a move to run, Camille's eyes turn black, and dark veins blood beneath her eyes, her teeth terrifyingly sharp as she grins, "Wrong move, sweetheart."
Maya bolts for the door, her feet slamming against the hardwood floors as Camille runs after her, hissing. But as her hand reaches the knob, she's suddenly thrown violently to the ground, and her head snaps with a sickening crack onto the floor. Black spots appear in her vision as Camille straddles her waist, pinning her shoulders to the ground as her fangs elongate rapidly, terrifyingly sharp in the moonlight, "Y'know, they say hybrids have exquisite notes of flavor in their blood." She drawls, trailing a long nail down Maya's jaw as she whimpers, "I wonder if I'll be the first to test that theory."
"You can't do this—" Maya chokes out, gasping as Camille puts her full body weight onto her, "They'll find you—"
"That's what you think." Camille taunts, a slow, chilling smile spreading across her features as she looks down at Maya with hunger in her eyes, "But by the time your lovely friends figure out where you are, your body will be so mangled that they won't even recognize you. Now — " She trails her finger down Maya's neck, stopping at the space between her neck and shoulder, "Where shall I start?"
Maya lets out a blood curling scream as Camille's fangs rip into her neck, tearing through muscle and bone as she pierces into a vein. Her body struggles limply in the vampire's grip, flailing as Camille sighs, heartily. Blood runs from her mouth and smears itself across Maya's skin — the thick, sticky liquid drips down onto the floor, pooling like a river around her. And as her vision fades and she feels her pulse starting to slow, Maya notices a scepter lying to her left, the ornate markings reminiscent of a halloween prop from last year's Institute play.
All her life, she's been a pawn in someone else's game. The diversity pick for Constance, the human vessel for her demonic father, the basket case shuffled around between the Institute and Magnus's apartment and wherever else it's convenient to ship her off when things get too real. Things have always been decided for her, for her own good, for her own well-being — for everyone else to keep calm and move on while she struggles to pick up the pieces by herself. And Maya realizes, that if she doesn't do something right now, that's exactly how she's going to end up. Alone, drained of blood, and nowhere to be found if Camille gets her way — and saves her own skin in the end.
Before the vampire can blink as she pulls back, eyes foggy with the pleasure of the liquid that's just slid down her throat, Maya grabs the scepter and plunges it into Camille's chest. Camille's eyes go wide in utter shock as the full impact hits her, and she chokes, blood spurting out of her mouth as Maya's hands shove the rod in deeper, her hands slick with the red liquid. Then suddenly, the vampire's eyes roll back in her head, and she falls to the ground beside Maya, eyes glassy and vacant as the life evaporates from them.
She doesn't flinch when Camille's body hits the floor beside her, a thud loud enough to shake anyone's bones to the core. The sound of Maya's own shuddering breaths reverberates in her ears as tears fall down her cheeks, and the resounding horror of what she's just done hits her in full force.
There's no coming back from murder.
The sound of a resounding scream pierces her world before it goes completely dark, and just before she loses consciousness, Maya realizes that it's none other than her own.
honestly this was one of the harder chaps to write for me as i haven't written emotional scenes in a while, but i hope this hit as hard as it meant to. lmk your throughts in the comments and i'm going to go get ready for school lmao.
- love
disha <3
Chapter 58: Chapter 58
Chapter Text
August 2016
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME—" Nandini growls, her voice shaking with rage.
"Nandini—" Maryse tries, stepping closer to her, but the Shadowhunter flinches away as though her touch burns her.
"Jace is gone." She seethes.
"He left willingly—" Maryse snaps.
"Jocelyn's recovery will take nine months—" Nandini snarls.
"She could have died if they hadn't—" Maryse struggles.
"If they hadn't what?" Nandini laughs, the sound cold and hollow as it sends a shiver down Maryse's spine, "If Magnus didn't lose his friends when he ran around doing the Fairchild's bidding? If the Silent Brothers had tortured an innocent seelie for information?" Nandini's sage orbs glare furiously into Maryse's dark brown ones, "If my daughter hadn't been ripped apart by a vampire because you couldn't find someone else to do your dirty work?"
"We both know that I had nothing to do with the attack." Maryse seethes, stepping closer to the taller woman. She lifts her chin up defiantly.
"Oh really?" Nandini scoffs.
"Every single one of these fruitless pursuits for Valentine has happened behind my back or without Clave authorization, " Maryse snaps, her voice brittle as she glares back at Nandini, "I had to take care of my family—"
"Is that why you haven't spoken to Alec after his wedding?" Nandini lifts a cool eyebrow, "Or how you didn't even think to contact Isabelle when she was on trial for high treason—"
"Oh spare me the fucking spite, Nandini." Maryse scoffs, snapping at her, "You haven't even been here for any of this—"
"I was doing my job, unlike you—"
"What job?" Maryse scoffs, "The one where you disappeared for months on end while the rest of us hung over the edge of death in New York? Where you got to tune out the news of Valentine's reappearance when your own kind were being savagely murdered all over the city?—"
"Does the word 'undercover' not mean anything to you, woman?" Nandini snaps, "You could have called me back if you wanted to."
"That is absurd—"
"Really? Is it?" Nandini steps closer to Maryse, backing her against the wall as her tall figure looms over the other Shadowhunter's smaller one, "You were the one who signed off on the Rio assignment. You were the one that read the contract. You were the one who had all the power to pull me out in case of an emergency. But you didn't. Why is that, Maryse?" Her voice drops, and she leans closer to Maryse in a way that's unnerving and enticing at once, "Was it because you were scared?"
"Scared of what?" Maryse spits, even as her voice shakes.
"Of the consequences of your actions." Nandini scoffs, looking directly into her eyes, "We both know you don't care about Valentine's threat to our world as long as your interests are in place."
"What are you even talking about?" Maryse sputters, her chest heaving in panic.
"Oh, don't play dumb with me." Nandini laughs, "The Circle rune on your neck may be faded, but I know that the effects are still there. You wanted the Cup as leverage with the Clave in case Valentine returned, no matter the consequences for everyone else around you. It was never about justice or honor — it hasn't been like that for you for years." She looks up at the ceiling, a cold chuckle escaping her lips before she looks back down, "And for a while, I admired you for it, you know? How ruthless you were, how you drove forward relentlessly despite everything else. But now it disgusts me. Because of your incompetence, Maya is lying sedated in a hospital bed—"
"She had every right to stop. To back out." Maryse snaps at her, "Your daughter knew exactly what she was doing when she threw herself into this mess."
"Spare me the lies, you coward." Nandini scoffs, "You and your family took advantage of her righteousness. Isabelle and Alec knew that she couldn't stand the injustices that were happening to this community — that could have happened to Magnus and everyone else she cares about. You were perfectly happy to let Maya run around with them for the Cup until it started reflecting badly upon you. If your life hadn't fallen apart in a matter of days, we both know you would've never stopped this madness."
"You are insane." Maryse scoffs, staring up at Nandini in shock, "I don't even recognize you anymore."
"Maybe you never did." Nandini scoffs, "Because clearly—" She looks Maryse up and down before stepping back, the air around them charged and thick with a tension Maryse can't describe, "People can change."
"What's your point?" Maryse sighs, rubbing her temple in exhaustion.
"Fix this, Maryse." Nandini snaps, "Or I swear on Raziel—" Her green eyes fill with a rage that makes Maryse's blood turn to ice, "I'll raze this place to the ground until not even your ashes are left ."
The slam of the door behind her feels like a slap to Maryse's face as Nandini storms out of her office.
The first thing Maya sees when her eyes flit open are the white walls of the Institute's hospital wing.
The ornate paintings come into focus on the ceiling as light pours into the room. There's a certain fogginess in her head that she can't explain, and as Maya lifts up her hand, she sees an IV taped to it, a tube with clear liquid running to a bag that's placed in a stand above her head. She swallows, her mouth dry as she sits up, and Maya catches sight of her reflection in a nearby window — someone's changed her into a hospital gown, dark hair brushed and combed out of her pale face, the color not quite returned. But something drops into her stomach as she sees the thick bandage wrapped around her neck, and Maya realizes, with bated breath, that there's no way out of this.
The Shadowhunters know what she did. And without a doubt, they're going to make her pay for it. Nausea rises up in her throat, and as the remnants of whatever's left in her stomach start to resurface, she hears the door open, "Maya?"
"You're awake. " Alec looks as though he's just gotten out of bed, hair sticking up in all directions as his wide eyes catch sight of her. A visible sigh of relief goes through him as he walks into the room, attempting to hug her, but something makes Maya jump at his touch, and he freezes, pausing, "How—how are you feeling?"
"I — um — " Maya stutters, softly, turning her eyes to the tiled floors beneath her, "—I — "
"Maya?!" comes another shriek, and Isabelle runs into the room, chest heaving, "Oh god, you're okay."
"Izzy—" Alec stops her, but she runs to a nearby dresser, pouring water into a glass from the pitcher on top of it.
"Drink." She thrusts the glass into Maya's shaky hands, before moving behind her to tie her hair out of her face, "You'll need the electrolytes after the amount of blood you lost."
"Oh." Maya takes a shaky sip, "So you saw it."
"You couldn't exactly have missed it." Alec mutters, "What, with all the blood trailing from the front door and you lying in the hall."
"How — how did you find me?" An inkling of doubt creeps into Maya's chest, but she pushes it down.
"After you ran last night, we had no idea where you went." Isabelle breathes out, shakily, "We searched everywhere, Magnus's place, The Institute, Pain. Then Dad called and said Nandini'd just landed at JFK, so we assumed you went home to tell her, and — well — "
"We thought you were dead." Clary interrupts; Maya sees her hesitate, leaning against the doorway, her tone hoarse with something Maya can't identify, "You — you weren't moving and your pulse was barely there. Alec called Magnus and he portalled you here."
Maya's heart drops into her stomach at the mention of his name, "So he knows." She laughs bitterly, "That I'm a murderer."
"What?" Alec's face goes white with shock.
"Maya, what are you even talking about?" Izzy questions, looking at her with shock.
"You can't possibly pretend not to know." Maya looks at the three of them with incredulity, as Clary joins Alec on the bed in front of her, "She was right next to me, for Raziel's sake—"
"Maya, you were alone when we found you." Clary's eyes narrow, "It looked like someone had broken in — picture frames were shattered, the windows were cracked, papers everywhere, cupboards on the floor."
"What?!" Maya sputters, panic rising in her chest, "That's not possible—"
"We thought one of Valentine's men had tried to finish you off." Isabelle explains, her tone turning suspicious, "You had bruises everywhere — one of your ribs was even cracked when we got the scans done."
"What about this?" Maya gestures to the bandage covering her neck, hissing at the pain in her muscles when she moves, "You can't possibly explain it away."
"Knife wound." Alec's expression hardens as his eyes flit to the bandage, "It looked like someone tore your neck open. You're lucky you're alive — they were millimetres away from severing your carotid."
"We're going to find them." Clary hisses, and for the first time, Maya sees her emerald eyes flash with a truly murderous rage as the redhead meets her own, "We're going to find them — and we're going to make them pay for what they did to you."
"Oh my God." Maya breathes out, a horrified, shaky laugh escaping her lips, "Oh my God. You don't know. None of you do."
"Maya, " Isabelle places a cautious hand on her shoulder, "What are you talking about?"
"This doesn't even make sense." She sputters, utterly bewildered, "She was lying right next to me, I saw her die—"
"Saw who die?" Clary's face morphs into one of shock.
"Maya — what happened last night?" Alec's eyes fill with confusion.
The words seem to choke in her throat at his question, and Maya feels her mouth go completely dry. This is it. This is the final frontier. There's no hiding it anymore — she's given herself away with all the questions, the suspicions, the bewilderment at the two truths before her: what her friends saw, and what actually took place. If Maya had accepted their reality as the truth, maybe she could have saved her own skin.
She can only hope that they give her a painless death after the Clave finds out.
"Camille tried to kill me." Maya breathes out, her voice shaking, "I knew too much about her subjugates, and she knew it was only a matter of time before the Clave found out from Magnus or my mom. So, she wanted to cut off a loose thread before erasing the evidence." She swallows, looking at the ground, not daring to meet their eyes, "She tried to drain me and I — I — " Her voice falters, and Maya feels tears burning in her eyes as she looks up at them, "I had no choice. I — I killed her."
There's a moment of horrified silence in the room, in which Maya prepares for the worst in her head. They're only two floors up — if she ties the bedsheets together and throws them down an open window, she can possibly make a break for it. Then Alec speaks, his voice rough yet astonished, "I don't even think there's a clause in the Accords for this."
"But — " Clary frowns, "The door was wide open when we found you."
"And there were no ashes, " Izzy adds, looking at Maya in confusion, "Or a stake."
"I didn't use a stake, I used a scepter. One of those props from Cleopatra and Anthony last year — " Maya's voice stops directly in the middle of her sentence as a choking realization comes over her. The door, the bewilderment, the lack of evidence, it all starts to make sense. "No. No — no — no —" She falls back on to the bed, clapping a horrified hand over her mouth as her fingers shake with fear, "Oh my God."
"Maya—" Clary reaches out a hand to touch her, but she flinches away.
"The reason you didn't find her was because she wasn't dead." Maya's breathing grows harsh as the horror sets in, "She didn't vaporize or burn, she choked and fell next to me. Which means— "
"Fuck." Alec claps a hand over his mouth as his eyes grow wide with a bombshell, "She's still out there."
The red blooming on Maya's fists is palpable as they lay clenched in her lap.
Nandini brushes their shoulders together as she moves closer to her daughter, the sharp wood of the bench beneath them digging into her back as she shifts. The room is absent of the usual crowd that comes with these meetings — probably because no one wants to look Imogen Herondale in the eye after her near-scalping of Isabelle Lightwood's life. The aforementioned Nephilim is now advancing towards them with Clarissa Fairchild following close behind, sliding into the seats beside Nandini herself as she whispers, "I can't get anything out of my mom. Everything's top secret."
"Nothing?" Nandini mutters, under her breath, "Interesting."
"I'd imagine why they'd keep this under wraps." Clarissa adds quietly, avoiding Nandini's eyes, "It can't possibly be a good look for the Institute — considering what's happened over the past few months."
"How classic of them." Nandini rolls her eyes, bitterness seeping into her tone, "Sweeping all the muck under the proverbial rug."
"We're lucky we aren't getting exiled altogether." Isabelle leans back, blowing out a harsh breath.
"Attention!" The Inquisitor bangs her gavel onto the podium above them, calling all their attention to the front, "The proceedings have started." Imogen's eyes glare down at them as Maryse walks up to the stand, arms full of case files that she unceremoniously sets down on a nearby table. Her eyes meet Nandini's with an unreadable look on her face before she begins speaking.
"We are here today to discuss the cascade of recent events that started with Clarissa Fairchild's arrival at the Institute, led to the deaths of Ragnor Fell & Dorothea Rollins and ended with the kidnapping of Jonathan Morgenstern—"
"Jace." Nandini looks at her daughter in surprise. Maya's staring straight ahead with a certain fire in her eyes Nandini's ever seen before, "His name is Jace. Jace Wayland."
There's a stunned silence in the room before Maryse continues speaking, visibly surprised, "Very well. And most recently, involved an attack by Camille Belcourt on Maya Rajesh. To say that this has gotten out of hand would be an incredible understatement."
"Countless Clave laws were broken." Imogen fixes Clarissa and Isabelle with a withering look, but Maya stares back at her without emotion, "The list of charges we could bring up against you all would throw you in the Gard for years. Without bail."
"So why aren't you doing it?" Clarissa scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest in defense.
"The reason we're throwing out our cases against you all is because of the resurgence of Valentine." Maryse sighs, something dark coming over her face, "Your efforts against him — although unfruitful in the end — gave the Institute a wake-up call. We cannot deny the threat he poses upon our community — and the entire Shadow world itself. Speaking of which, Raphael?"
"My clan played no part in what happened to Maya Rajesh." Raphael stands up from a seat nearby, and though his back is to them, Nandini can spot the defeat in the set of his shoulder, "I can assure you of that. Until recently, I had no knowledge of Camille's involvement with subjugates."
"Why didn't you report the incident to the Clave?" Imogen raises a suspicious eyebrow.
"I was afraid it would reflect badly upon me as a leader." Raphael sighs, "To make amends, I have exhausted every resource I have to find her. I've searched all her hideouts, spoken to every acquaintance and employed every tracker that could be linked to her. But to my knowledge, Camille — and her subjugates — show no indication of resurfacing. It's as if she's vanished into thin air."
"That's certainly a comfort." Isabelle mutters.
"In the meantime, " Maryse interrupts, "We've created a treatment plan for Maryse Lightwood with the assistance of the Silent Brothers as well as the Book of The White. However, whatever spell Valentine has used on her is deeply layered and complex — which is why it will take around nine months to unravel it if we want Jocelyn to make a full recovery."
"Dear God." Nandini gasps, as Clary puts her face in her hands. She places a gentle hand on the redhead's shoulder, "He'll burn in hell for this."
"With the current political climate, we do not believe it is wise for Clarissa Fairchild to remain in New York City." Maryse swallows, "Which is why — after careful deliberation and agreements signed with M.A.C.U.S.A, the Ministry of Magic, Ilvermorny and other necessary authorities — we've come to a conclusion."
"Which is?" Confusion swirls in Nandini's mind at the mention of the foreign organisations — what has she possibly cooked up?
"Maya Rajesh will be entering her sixth year at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year." Maryse sighs, "The current situation in England is tantamount, with the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named shaking up both the magical and Shadowhunter communities present. However, he has never managed to set foot in North America before, and we have good reason to believe that our armed forces will prevent him from doing so. As of now, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named does not pose a threat to us in the way that Valentine does."
"Oh no." Nandini gasps, a realization overcoming her, "Oh no — "
"For the next school year, Maya will continue her life as usual at Hogwarts." Maryse continues, "Clarissa Fairchild will join her under the identity of Clarissa Prewett, a Squib student from Ilvermorny who's taking a research to investigate the role of education on student atmospheres in the magical world — which excuses her from having to carry out any magic."
Maryse reaches for a glass of water before continuing her speech, "Alec Lightwood will move to the London Institute for the foreseeable future to keep an eye on the situation as well as improve our international relations. Isabelle will stay here with me to monitor the situation in New York — as well as continue the search for Jace." Her eyes flit to Maya for a second and Nandini swears that she sees a hint of pride in them, "This arrangement may not be ideal, but it's the least risky we could come up with, given how time-sensitive this situation is."
There's an utterly shocked silence in the air, in which no one is exactly sure what to say or how to react to the news before them — that they're all being carted off to the United Kingdom before any of them can have the chance to process the fact that their world, as they know it, is falling to pieces. Then Maya speaks up, her voice hoarse yet filled with a kind of calm Nandini can't bring herself to feel, "And what makes you think we're going to agree to this?"
"If you care about your friends, you will." Imogen Herondale snaps, "There are other lives at stake, and it is your best interest to make yourselves scarce when you can. This meeting is over." She claps her hands together, a certain glint in her eyes as she looks down at all of them, "You leave in four days."
A soft breeze blows over Maya's hair as she looks out at the city lights past Magnus's balcony. New York shimmers as brightly as ever in the dark, the soft summer night a contrast to the lively happenings below. There are drunk patrons slipping out of trendy bars and hipster cafes, holding onto each other's belt loops as they stumble, laughing raucously. There are old Mexican women selling street tacos and cups of fruit, their faces wrinkled and lined with age yet smiles still radiant as they greet customers. Children blow bubbles with oversized wands, coffee shops grind their grounds for the perfect brew, street guitarists strum softly and add to the scintillating symphony, waving thanks as a few passerby throw dollars into their cases. Brooklyn — despite it all — still feels alive and well, the lifeblood not yet sucked out of it's soul as gentrification rapidly moves through the rest of the city.
The sliding door opens, and Maya freezes, instinctively jumping as Magnus holds up his hands in surrender, "Can a man not get some air in this house?"
"It's your place, don't ask me." She sighs, averting her eyes to the floor. Maya's not sure why she can't bring herself to look at him. Maybe it's the guilt from earlier, the exhaustion of everything that's happened, the tiredness that seems to weigh down her bones until she feels like she's made of lead. Or maybe it's the fact that she can still feel his ex-girlfriend's blood staining her fingertips — and scorching her soul along with it.
Magnus sighs, softly, placing his hands in his pockets as he looks out at the city for a few moments. There's a soft calmness in the air, a balmy silence that's unperturbed by his tone when he finally speaks again, "How're you doing?"
"As well as I can be." Maya fidgets nervously with the end of her braid.
"I didn't think they would send you to Hogwarts." He muses, "Mumbai, Los Angeles, Paris, Madrid — hell, even the swamps of Jersey would've made more sense than whatever Maryse has cooked up."
"It's not like we were given much of a choice, " She laughs, softly, swallowing the lump in her throat, "Amma was livid."
"I can imagine." Magnus mutters, "The Nephilim don't care about genocide unless it threatens their own. I should've expected that their way of dealing with it would be to ship all of you off to the Scottish countryside while they scramble to push everything under the rug."
There's a pause for a few minutes before Maya finally speaks up, daring to meet his eyes for the first time since she's gotten here, "Are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room?"
"I see none." Magnus makes a show of looking around as Maya rolls her eyes. He succumbs, "Alright, alright."
"Do you — " Something tightens in her throat as Maya swallows, nervously looking up at him, "Do you hate me?"
"What?" Magnus's expression softens at her words.
"Magnus — I — I'm so sorry." Maya's voice threatens to break, "I knew you cared about Camille." She wipes her eyes as she looks away for a moment, "I understand if you want me to leave."
"Good God." Magnus steps back, leaning against the railing as he puts his hand over his mouth in horror, "I—Is this what you've been telling yourself?"
"What?" Maya looks up at him in utter shock, fingers unconsciously tracing over the bandage on her neck.
"Maya, I would rather you be alive and her in the ground than dead because of some moral obligation towards me, " Magnus scoffs, "I would have done the same if I was in your place."
"Wait — " Maya pauses, something untwisting inside her, "You're — you're not angry?"
"Of course not, " He looks anguished that she would even think so, "It was a life or death situation. You had no other choice — and you definitely didn't deserve whatever she had planned for you. Camille may have been my past — but that chapter of my life is closed now."
"Now you have Alec." Maya takes a deep breath, her head spinning as she looks up at him with the burning question etched upon her lips, "Magnus do you — do you think Camille's going to come after me again?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure." He looks at her contemplatively, "But what I can promise you is that the chances of you getting hurt again are far, far less all those miles away — even if you feel like you're leaving your heart behind here."
"I'm scared." Maya puts her chin in the palm of her hand, "I don't know how I'm going to face everyone once we get there."
"You don't have to. You don't even have to say anything at all." Magnus places a reassuring hand on her shoulder, his tone not unkind, "In fact, it's best if you don't. For discretion's sake."
"Thank you. For everything." Maya smiles up at him, feeling slightly lighter as she looks up at him, "Really, I wouldn't have survived this mess without you. None of us would have."
"It's the least I could have done." Magnus rolls his eyes, pulling Maya into a hug that she never wants to leave, "You know — I didn't think I would ever say this." He clears his throat, pulling back after a few moments, "Despite living for so long, I've never felt the desire to have children of my own." Magnus looks her in the eye, a glint of nervousness present as he speaks, "But, if I ever had a daughter one day — I would want her to turn out like you."
"That's very sweet of you, Magnus. " Something chokes up in Maya's voice as she sniffles, blinking back the tears that form in her eyes at his words, "But I doubt I'm the best role model, considering my current circumstances."
"Oh, I think Mina would disagree." He ruffles her hair, before something catches his eye inside the house, "Speaking of which, your mother's just gotten out of the shower. I'll leave you two to catch up."
A few moments later, Nandini steps out onto the balcony to join her, hair fluttering in damp waves down her back as a purple NYU sweater loosely hangs off of her lean frame. She looks at Maya with concern, "Hi, kanna."
"Hi, mom." Maya replies, softly looking up at her, "Did you eat yet?"
"Magnus ordered pizza. I had the mushroom slice — and maybe a bit of his roasted eggplant as well." A pink flush spreads over her cheeks.
"Oh, I'm sure he'd love to find that out." Maya rolls her eyes, as her shoulders instinctively draw in, dread pooling in her stomach at the conversation to come.
Nandini seems to notice her hesitation, and sits next to her on the bench, wrapping a gentle arm around her shoulder. There's a few moments where the two of them sit in silence together, drinking in the soft sounds and sights of Brooklyn as a soft breeze ruffles Maya's hair. Then Nandini speaks, "I've had time, to think about all that's happened." She reaches down to grasp Maya's hand, "I think we can both agree that I haven't done my job as a mother. I wasn't there when you needed me — and maybe if I was, things would have turned out differently."
"Maybe." Maya echoes, softly, her voice fragile in the dark night.
Nandini sighs, "If I'm being honest right now, I don't know what to say. I wish I could tell you that everything will be alright in the end — but we both know that would be a false comfort. I don't know what's going to come next, or how to prepare you for the worst. But — " She pauses, meeting her daughter's eyes, "I want you to know that I'm proud of you. That I love you for who you are, not whatever the Clave decides to define you as. And that hereafter— " Her voice catches in her throat as Nandini's eyes shimmer with tears, "—you can come to me for anything. You have my word, regardless of what happens."
"I love you too, Mom." Maya chokes up, tears freely falling down her face as Nandini wraps her in a bear hug, freely sobbing into her shoulders. There's a few moments in which they just hold each other close, feeling the weight of the world around them dissipate as they reunite as mother and daughter once more.
"You're so strong." Nandini sighs, softly, wiping the tears from her face as she pulls back, "Despite everything that's happened to you, you've handled yourself with the utmost grace." She laughs, softly, "I need to learn from you in that aspect—"
"No!" Maya hears Magnus shout from inside, the sound of the fridge door opening setting off an alarm in her head, "My eggplant! Nandini, you traitorous bitch!!—"
"That dramatic bastard." Nandini rolls her eyes, clearly annoyed. She kisses Maya's forehead before slipping out, "I'll be right back."
"You stole my food!!—" Magnus screams, enraged, as the door closes.
As Nandini walks off, Maya feels her phone vibrate, and she pulls it out of her jacket, eyes flashing wide with shock as she sees the caller ID — 'Draco'. The thought of her favourite blond pain-in-the-ass makes something light up inside her. In another world, maybe she would've picked up, let her tired words drift over the phone as his sarcastic quips pulled the both of them together in an inexplicable way. But Magnus's words come back to her — 'For discretion's sake' — and Maya feels a chill come over her spine, and quickly turns off her phone, stowing it back in her pocket as she looks out at the city once more.
He can never know.
the hogwarts content won't come for a few weeks due to me having a big exam next saturday! welcome to act 3.
- love
disha <3
Chapter 59: Chapter Fifty-Nine
Chapter Text
August 2016
"YOU'RE BEING AN ASSHOLE, Y'KNOW?"
"Diana, language!—" Narcissa hisses, furiously looking around Madam Malkin's, "For Merlin's sake, we're in public—"
"Yeah, well thanks to our favourite bald jackass, this shop is empty!!" Diana's tone drips with sarcasm as she dramatically whirls around, "See? Not a soul in sight!"
"How dare you?!" Their mother gasps, her face turning white, then livid, "You — you little — "
"Mum." Draco places a cautious hand on his mother's shoulder, gently pulling her back, "It's alright." He gestures to a pretty rack of shimmering gowns near them, "Why don't you go look through the latest collection? You've always loved La Perle Noire."
"One of these days . . " Narcissa's face twists in anger before she stalks off, leaving him and Diana standing next to a rack of dark green robes.
"What are you doing?!" Draco snaps as soon as his mother's out of earshot, "You've been antagonizing her ever since you got back."
"Oh, I don't know, maybe because the first thing Mother Dearest decided to do was shriek at me about spending the summer at a 'Blood Traitor's' house?" His sister gesticulates with her fingers, rolling her eyes. There's color in her cheeks for the first time in a while, and although he could do without the purple streaks running through her hair, Draco's heart squeezes a little as he looks at her. For once, he's done the right thing.
"You should know better than to provoke her at a time like this." Draco presses, running a frustrated hand through her hair, "Especially at a time like this."
"And what, dear brother, are you doing at a time like this?" Diana fires back.
There's a moment of uncomfortable silence before Draco sighs, "You know I can't tell you that."
"Is that why you tried to sneak out here on your own today?" Diana scoffs, "To keep us all in the dark?"
"The dark is a lot safer than being out here." Draco snaps. He laughs, bitterly, his voice hushed, "Half the shops are closed — the other half's owners have mysteriously vanished on their own. Do you think I want you to suffer the same fate?"
"You act like I don't know how to defend myself." Diana snaps, "Snape taught both of us, you know—"
"I don't give a flying fuck about what he thinks." Draco cuts her off, "What I think you should do is stay out of this mess and shack up with your girlfr—"
"She is not my girlfriend!!" Diana claps a hand over his mouth before he can finish, her cheeks bright red with embarrassment, "Keep your voice down, will you?"
"Who's being a nuisance now?" Draco raises a pointed eyebrow in her direction, gently pushing her hand away.
"Trou du cul!" Diana snaps, and Draco has to resist the urge to snicker at the mortified expression on her face.
Narcissa's shock echoes from the other side of the room, "DIANA!!—"
"If we're talking about girlfriends, " A mischievous gleam lights up his sister's emerald eyes, "Are you still mad that she didn't pick up yesterday?"
Something stings in his chest as Draco groans, "When are you ever going to let that go?"
"You should have seen your face." Diana snickers, impishly grinning up at him, "You looked like a kicked puppy."
"I did not." He rolls his eyes, "Drama queen."
"Says you," Diana scoffs, before Narcissa throws a dark robe into her hands, "What is this?"
"Your uniform." His mother replies, perfunctory. She delicately slips a handsome dark green robe around Draco's suit-covered shoulders, "The tailor just finished. Try it on over your clothes."
"I wanted pink, Mum." Diana rolls her eyes, slipping the black fabric on over her white pullover, "This color is so depressing."
"Pink is something Malfoys have the decency to avoid." Narcissa puffs her chest up with pride, "It washes us out."
"Yeah, well, I'd rather be washed out that wear whatever the fresh hell this is." Diana grumbles, adjusting her sleeves in the mirror; It's then that Draco realizes that they're far too long for her slender frame, "I look like a bloody Dementor."
"You look like a lady. For once." Narcissa rolls her eyes at her daughter before glaring at Draco in a way that makes him shrink back, "And you, young man. Don't think you're off the hook for what happened this morning."
"Come on, Mother. I'm not a child." Draco huffs, adjusting the collar as he looks in the mirror, "In case you haven't noticed, I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."
"Now, dear, your mother ’s quite right." Madam Malkin tuts, waddling around him as she pins the sleeves up, "None of us are supposed to go wandering around on our own any more, it’s nothing to do with being a child—’‘
"Ow!!" Draco snaps, a sharp pain going through his left arm as he flinches away from the older witch, "Watch where you’re sticking that pin, will you!"
Diana bites back a laugh, and as Madam Malkin sighs, opening her mouth to apologize, he hears the door-chime ring, and sees a familiar figure walk in over his shoulders. A mass of curly hair, a wrinkled nose and an ever-present purring lump in her hands — it's not hard to discern who she is. And as Hermione Granger's face twists in distaste, and the sting in his left arm makes Draco bite back a pained hiss, the straining thread of frustration in him that's been stretching all these weeks snaps, "If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in,"
"Draco—" Diana gasps, her face going white as Narcissa's eyes narrow.
"There's no need for language like that!" Madam Malkin interjects, quickly, "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!" She gives Potter and Weasley a withering look, both of them brandishing the aforementioned objects in their hands.
"It's alright, guys." A familiar figure steps through the door, and as Draco's heart lurches, he locks with a familiar pair of blue eyes smoldering into his; Maya Rajesh's full lips twist into a scoff, "He's not worth it."
"Maya!" Unbeknownst to her mother's sharp glare, Diana slips out of the robe, squealing as she envelops her friend in a bear hug so sudden it almost knocks the warlock to the floor, "Where have you been?"
"Places." Her voice is muffled as she stumbles, a slight lilt at the corner of her mouth as his sister pulls back and the sight of her in person after three months sends a shiver down Draco's spine. She looks good — really good. But the words that come out of her mouth stops the nervous train of thought in his head, "Talk to Hermione like that again, and I'll make sure they're the last words you say."
"Maya—" Diana looks nervously between them as a spark of rage ignites inside Draco.
"Like you would try anything out of school." He scoffs, despite the tiny inkling of apprehension in the back of his head.
"How are you such an ignorant jackass despite being near the top of your class for years?" Maya scoffs, "It's always been a mystery to me — you manage to somehow make everything about yourself."
"Maybe tell your friend here to run back to where she belongs, then?" He cocks his chin at Granger, who utters an indignant scoff that sounds like nails on a chalkboard.
"Higher up than you'll ever be?" She chirps back, equally as scathing, "Because she cares about something other than the blood running through her veins?"
"I don't remember asking for your opinion on this matter." He raises an unconvinced eyebrow.
"I don't remember asking you to be a pompous little fuck, but we all have our regrets, don't we?" The catlike smile on her face drops with malice.
"Let the Mudblood speak for herself, Rajesh." The words slip his mouth as smoothly as butter, but they die in his throat as Maya's eyes visibly darken with rage, "She might die of indignation if you keep talking over her."
"What did I tell you about using that word again?" She hisses, walking up to him. The tip of her wand presses into his neck, and try as he might to hide the fear he feels, Draco can't deny the spark of a thrill that shoots down his spine at the dark way she looks up at him. He can see the tiny flecks of silver in her aquamarine eyes from this angle, the air thick around them and charged with something he can't explain. And as her eyes flit to his mouth, a forbidden thought flits across his mind, and his hand slowly reaches up for her waist.
‘That’s quite enough!’ snaps Madam Malkin sharply, looking over her shoulder for support. The moment breaks, and Draco sees a red flush come over Maya's cheekbones as she shoves him away, stepping back as though she's been burned, ‘Madam – please –’
In the style of her ever-perfect timing, Narcissa Malfoy strolled out from behind the clothes rack her, eyes dark and contemptous as she looks at Harry Potter and his little group, "Put that away," she says, coldly, her eyes glinting with quiet fury as she looks down at Maya, ‘If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."
‘Really?’ Potter interrupts, pushing Maya behind him as he stalks toward her, ‘Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?’
Madam Malkin squealed and clutches at her heart as Diana's face grows white with shock. ‘Really, you shouldn’t accuse – dangerous thing to say – wands away, please!’
Narcissa grabs Draco's arm before he can draw his wand, smiling coldly ‘I see that being Dumbledore’s favourite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter. But Dumbledore won’t always be there to protect you.’
Potter looks around the room with a mocking expression on his face, "Wow … look at that … he’s not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!’
"Harry!" Diana snaps, stumbling on her robe before Granger catches her.
Draco tries to lunge toward him, Ron Weasley's laugh sending the blood in his veins to a scorching boil. He snarls, "Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!"
"Harry, shut up!" Maya snaps, yanking him back. Her face is visibly tense as she glances at them, eyes resting on Draco for a split second before looking to Diana, "You're crossing a line. Let's go—"
"I'm crossing a line?!" Potter spits, looking livid, "I'm crossing a line?!—" His eyes land on Draco, "Did you even hear—"
"As much as I want to punch him for saying that, it's in our best interest to leave before things get worse." She lets go of him, casting Draco a glare that makes something inside him shrink back, "The prick just wants attention."
‘It’s all right, Draco,’ says Narcissa., restraining him with her thin white fingers upon his shoulder. ‘I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius.’
Potter raises his wand as Granger grabs his arm and attempts to push it by his side, Maya dragging him back at the same time, "Harry, no!’ Granger pleads grabbing his arm and attempting to push it down by his side. "Think … you mustn’t … you’ll be in such trouble …"
‘I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear, let me just—" As the pin accidentally pierces his left arm, Draco feels an agonizing spasm go right through his mark and immediately slaps Madam Malkin's hand away, "Watch where you’re putting your pins, woman! Mother – I don’t think I want these any more – " A wave of anxious exhaustion hits him as he hoists the robe over his head, letting the emerald silk fall to Madam Malkin's feet as he brushes the dust off of his suit.
‘You’re right, Draco,’ says Narcissa, with a contemptuous glance at Granger, "Now I know the kind of scum that shops here. We’ll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting’s.’
"No one wants you here anyway." Draco hears Potter mutter under his breath as Narcissa and him walk away, and it takes everything in him to not go back and pummel the aforementioned Scarhead.
He should've just gone shopping alone.
"Diana?" Narcissa looks back over her shoulder, "Coming?"
"You know what, I've decided that I like my robes." Draco hears his sister's smirk in her voice, eyes fiery as she glares back at her mother, "So I'm going to pay for them and meet you at the Manor tonight. Deal?"
"Oh, for the love of—" Narcissa begins, before the door slams shut in their faces, a hint of a smirk on Maya Rajesh's face before it's completely obscured.
Why Are You Worrying About You-Know-Who?
You SHOULD Be Worrying About
U-NO-POO
The Constipation Sensation That’s Gripping the Nation!
"Dear God . . " mutters Clary at the sign from beside her, having just returned from the London Institute, "Wizards certainly have guts"
"Those two do." Maya smiles at Fred and George, who wave to her from the counter of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes with enthusiasm, "They hightailed out of school on a pair of brooms last year to piss off our Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher."
"I like them already." The corner of Clary's mouth turns up as she sighs in distaste, "Alec and Izzy have some details to iron out at the embassy, so they'll only meet us at the hotel tonight."
"Probably for the best." Maya looks warily at the questionable items lining the shop, "I wouldn't put it past them to buy the entire stock of shield cloaks and write it off as a business expense."
"These could be useful, though." Clary points to a jar of glittering navy dust, reading "Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder" as she runs her fingers over the label, "In case we need to make a quick escape."
"Escape from what?" Maya nearly jumps out of her skin as Diana's cheerful voice pipes up from next to her, looking down inquisitively at the both of them.
"Uhhhh— " Clary panics, her words stalling as Maya eventually saves her.
"Snape's wrath." Maya laughs, nervously, "Did you see his face when Ron added boomslang skin instead of viper fangs to the strengthening solution last year?"
"Good idea." Diana mutters, quickly grabbing a jar for herself, "I don't fancy a cauldron being thrown at my head during Potions. Word of advice — don't breathe too loud next to him." She gives Clary a motherly pat on the shoulder, "He can smell fear."
"What —Huh?! —" Clary sputters as Diana walks off to talk to Fred and George. She turns to Maya in a panic, "You never told me that some of your teachers were demons—"
"Relax, she's just messing with you." Maya ruffles Clary's hair, resisting the urge to snicker at the mortified expression on the redhead's face, "Snape's a jackass, but he's just a wizard."
"I thought they'd be like warlocks. " Clary mutters, "Flamboyant, mischievous, immortal. But they're so . . different."
"Wizards are the Walmart version of Warlocks." Maya sighs, "Their magic stems from a core, whereas mine is tied to my demon blood. It's why I don't need a wand to control my magic."
"Interesting." Clary muses, her voice lowering, "You didn't tell Diana the truth, did you?"
"That you're actually Satan's spawn and this study-abroad program is a glorified blanket to cover our tracks?'"Maya mutters under her breath, feigning nonchalance as she grabs a jar of Instant Darkness Powder from the shelf, "Of course I didn't. She would have a heart attack if she knew what we'd been up to this summer."
"She's going to suspect something soon." Clary's eyebrows furrow in worry as she glances at the purple-haired figure, who's animatedly examining a few spindly-looking objects labelled 'Decoy Detonators', "Our backstory has a few plot holes."
"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it." Maya replies, airily, clearing her throat as Fred approaches them with an expectant look on his face.
"Good to see you again, Maya." He playfully ruffles her hair as Maya swats his hand away before giving Clary a confused look, "And hello to your friend . . . Cindy . . . Claire . . . Cara, was it?"
"Clarissa, " Clary laughs, softly, extending her hand, "But Clary works too."
"Nice." He shakes her hand good-naturedly, "Another American, huh? Maya'll have some Fahrenheit-using company this year."
"Oh shush." Maya rolls her eyes at him, "No one understands Celsius anyway."
"Everyone except you Yankees uses the metric system." Fred clicks his tongue disapprovingly, "Get with the times, kid."
"I love your shop." Clary pipes up, looking around the multicolored shelves with wonder, "All the items are so interesting. How do you come up with this stuff?"
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe it." Fred gives her a roguish wink before gesturing to an array of violently pink products behind him, "Haven’t you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet?’ A gaggle of enthusiastic girls crowd around them as Hermione and Ginny linger at the edge of the crowd in skepticism, "Best range of love potions you’ll find anywhere."
Ginny raises a suspicious eyebrow, "Do they work?"
"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question –"
"– and the attractiveness of the girl," snaps George, appearing suddenly at their side. ‘But we’re not selling them to our sister,’ he adds, becoming suddenly stern, "not when she’s already got about five boys on the go from what we’ve –"
"Five?!" Maya sputters, astonished.
"A girl can dream." Clary sighs, her voice airy.
‘Whatever you’ve heard from Ron is a big fat lie,’ says Ginny calmly, leaning forwards to take a small pink pot off the shelf. ‘What’s this?’
"Guaranteed Ten-Second Pimple Vanisher,’ explains Fred. ‘Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don’t change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"
"Nice." Maya mouths to her, to which Ginny grins.
"Yes, I am," replies Ginny, coolly, "And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?"
She points at a number of round balls of fluff in shades of pink and purple, all rolling around the bottom of a cage and emitting high-pitched squeaks.
"Pygmy Puffs," says George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can’t breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"
"I dumped him, he was a bad loser," says Ginny, putting a finger through the bars of the cage and watching the Pygmy Puffs crowd around it. "They’re really cute!"
"They’re fairly cuddly, yes," concedes Fred. "But you’re moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren’t you?"
Ginny glares at him, turning around with her hands on her hips, "It’s none of your business. And I’ll thank you," She snaps at Ron, who has just appeared at George’s elbow, laden with merchandise, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"
"That’s three Galleons, nine Sickles and a Knut," reads off Fred, examining the many boxes in Ron’s arms. "Cough up."
"I’m your brother!" Ron sputters
‘And that’s our stuff you’re nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles." Fred tuts, without sympathy, "I’ll knock off the Knut."
"But I haven’t got three Galleons, nine Sickles!" Ron whines.
"You’d better put it all back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves." Fred smirks as Ron drops the boxes, the tips of his ears turning an angry red as he flips his middle finger at his brother, making the older Weasley snicker.
However, Ron's face pales quickly as Mrs Weasley glares daggers at him, "If I see you do that again I’ll jinx your fingers together," she snaps, sharply.
"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" says Ginny at once.
"A what?" questions Mrs Weasley warily.
"Look, they’re so sweet …" The two witches peer down at the cage.
"They seem sweet." Clary mutters to Maya, observing the sight in front of them, "The Weasleys."
"They are." Maya sighs, "Apart from Fred and George being the overprotective older brothers, of course."
"I don't think Alec lacks in that department for you." Clary nudges her, knowingly.
"Oh, please." Maya scoffs, "I'm the last person that needs protection from anyone." Her mind drifts back to the scathing conversation in Madam Malkin's, and a lump forms in the throat, "Or anything."
"Who's on your mind?" Clary looks at her curiously, "You've been spacey ever since we met up here."
"No one." Maya banishes the burning image of Draco Malfoy from behind her eyelids, "I'm just tired."
"Alright then." A hint of a smile graces the corner of her mouth as Diana walks up to them, "Keep your secrets."
"I'm supposed to meet Luna at the Hopping Pot in fifteen." She smiles, radiantly, and Maya feels her heart flutter at how happy she looks, "Want to come with? They have the best coffee in Diagon Alley."
"We'd love to—" Clary starts, eyes lighting up at the prospect of caffeinating herself, but a familiar voice interrupts her.
"Actually, I need Maya for something." Harry gently grabs her arm, squeezing in warning, "Rain check?"
"Is it important?" Maya raises a slightly annoyed eyebrow.
"Yes." Harry's eyes flit to the window for a split second, and to her utter surprise, Maya sees none other than the elder Malfoy disappearing into Knockturn Alley, looking over his shoulder warily before stalking away, "Very."
"Why do I have to be a part of this?" Maya hisses, as the four of them crowd under the Invisibility cloak, trying to conceal their footsteps against the narrow cobblestones of Diagon Alley, "We're not exactly being discreet."
"You're the best duelist out of all of us." Ron hisses under his breath, as a familiar pair of footsteps go ahead of them, "Quick, over here!" They all rapidly press themselves against a nearby wall as Malfoy's footsteps sound down the corner, narrowly avoiding being seen as his tall figure disappears down a winding path.
"I highly doubt this will escalate to that extent." She sighs, bracing herself as her tone drips with sarcasm, "Or, you know, we could've just not followed him in the first place?!"
"Something's not right about Malfoy." Harry whispers, tugging her arm harder as his black hair flops over his forehead, "Quick, or we'll lose him!"
"When has anything ever been right about him?" Maya mutters, under her breath as they speed up.
"Our feet’ll be seen!" whispers Hermione anxiously, as the Cloak flaps a little around their ankles.
"It doesn't matter." Ron sighs; His face lights up as he spots a dusty old sign labelled 'Borgin and Burkes', "Look!" He points to a dark window, "He's in there!"
They're able to quickly find a vantage point from a nearby ledge, Maya's heart thudding in fear as the four of them brace themselves against the roof next door. The window lies slightly ajar, allowing them a clear view of the contents below. Shelves full of skulls and dark potion bottles surround Malfoy as he speaks to a man with oily hair, gesturing animatedly as the Malfoy signet of his ring gleams in the faint sunlight, "You know how to fix it?"
"Possibly," The man — or Borgin, as Harry whispers into her ear — licks his lips, hesitating, "I’ll need to see it, though. Why don’t you bring it into the shop?"
"I can’t," Malfoy's tone conveys urgency as his shoulders draw in tension, "It’s got to stay put. I just need you to tell me how to do it."
Borgin sighs, defeated, "Well, without seeing it, I must say it will be a very difficult job, perhaps impossible. I couldn’t guarantee anything."
"No?" Malfoy's tone is dark as he disappears behind a cabinet, obscured temporarily, "Perhaps this will make you more confident."
Borgin's face suddenly changes from one of dim annoyance to one of horror, his pupils drawing wide in fear. Whatever Malfoy's done — Maya realizes with unease dropping into her stomach — it's scared the absolute shit out of him. And it seems to have worked to the blond's advantage, as he continues in a casual tone that makes the hair stand up on the back of Maya's neck, "Tell anyone and there will be retribution. You know Antonin Dolohov?" The smirk in his voice makes a pit form in Maya's chest, "He’s a family friend, he’ll be dropping in from time to time to make sure you’re giving the problem your full attention."
Borgin sputters, shocked, "There will be no need for—"
"I’ll decide that,’ says Malfoy. He sighs, stepping back into view and looking around the shop with a satisfied expression on his face, "Well, I’d better be off. And don’t forget to keep that one safe, I’ll need it."
"Perhaps you’d like to take it now?" Borgin looks at him expectantly.
"No, of course I wouldn’t, you stupid little man, how would I look carrying that down the street?" Malfoy scoffs, quietly, "Just don’t sell it."
"Of course not … sir." Borgin bows, and despite her distance, Maya can see the slight tremble that wracks through his hands as he folds them behind his back.
"Not a word to anyone, Borgin, and that includes my mother, understand?" Malfoy raises a blond eyebrow expectantly.
"Naturally, naturally" murmurs Borgin, bowing again as Malfoy stalks out of the shop. As Maya's grip relaxes on the ledge, Hermione suddenly lurches forward, having been leaning on her for support this entire time. The shriek she emits is tiny as Ron catches her, barely audible to anyone but the four of them.
But as the cloak flutters, her converse are exposed, and she only manages to yank her feet back into obscurity when Malfoy's head whips around in their direction. Maya holds her breath as he frowns at the ledge, brows twisting in confusion as she bites her lip in concentration. There's a moment in which their eyes directly meet and it feels as though he's gazing directly into her soul with the intensity at which he scans the ledge. Then, a beat passes, and Draco Malfoy stalks back down the alley, none of them daring to breathe until his tall figure is completely out of sight.
‘What was that about?’ whispers Ron, letting out a shaky breath.
"Dunno," says Harry, "He wants something mended — and he's gone to great lengths to hide whatever it is."
"But what could it be?" Hermione huffs, "That cabinet hid him pretty well."
"It doesn't make sense, " Ron mutters. As they slowly inch down the ledge, taking great care not to trip and fall back down onto the cobblestones, one burning question remains in Maya's mind.
What could Draco Malfoy have done in those few seconds that made Borgin fear for his life?
"Are you trying to piss me off today?"
"It's not even that bad!" Izzy rolls her eyes at Maya.
"Really?!" Maya sputters, holding up the white material to the light of the room, "My underwear has more fabric than this shit."
"Well, unlike your underwear, this set leaves nothing to the imagination, " Izzy ruffles her hair, smirking down at her, "White looks good on you."
"Maybe some things should be left imagined." Maya mutters, warily. In the rush of packing her entire life into a suitcase to return to Hogwarts, she's forgotten a very key element of her wardrobe — swimsuits. The Institute's put them up in the Four Seasons — one of the fanciest hotels in London — for the remainder of their stay. Even breathing here makes Maya feel poor, everything lined in creamy white marble and shimmering gold. However, the rooftop infinity pool is one of the biggest attractions, and it's where Alec and Clary are waiting for them while they sort out Maya's swimsuit dilemma.
"This is the only set I have that fits you." Izzy sighs, as Maya shifts, uncomfortably, the corner of her mouth smirking, "Unless, of course, you want to swim in your bra and panties?"
"Fuck no!" A red flush scalds Maya's cheeks as she resists the urge to sink to the floor in embarrassment, "Where's my tankini when I need it?" Izzy averts her eyes to the wall, and a sneaking suspicion pops into Maya's head as her tone turns stern, "What did you do?"
"Nothing." The Shadowhunter blinks at her all too innocently.
"Izzy—" Maya narrows her eyes in suspicion.
"If I had — hypothetically — done anything." She enunciates, a hint of mischief entwined in her tone, "Your swimsuit would have — hypothetically — " Izzy coughs, nervously, as Maya's expression turns stony, "Ended up in the — uh — airport trash can."
There's a moment of enraged silence in which neither of them speaks, then Maya grumbles, "I am never going to forgive you for this."
"Oh, you'll get over it, " Izzy waves her hand dismissively, "There's a t-shirt in the bag if you want to cover up."
With that, she leaves the stall, and Maya reluctantly slips on the two-piece set — but the word bikini seems to be a more accurate descriptor. It's more forgiving than certain pieces she's seen Isabelle wear, the straps sturdy enough that Maya doesn't feel as though she'll flash someone an unwanted glimpse by moving. And the white certainly does look good on her, making the golden tones in her caramel skin matching the rings holding the top and bottom together. But there's still some hesitation that holds her back, a nagging voice in the back of her head that scrutinizes the way she looks in the mirror with a tone of crippling insecurity.
Maya knows that she should know better. Isabelle and Alec have never made a single disparaging or unwanted comment about her body — with the former being secure enough in herself to never put Maya down and the latter being as straight as a roundabout, and Clary doesn't seem like the type to say anything either. She knows that everyone has their own imperfections, that a perfect body is a eurocentric, impossible standard to achieve unless you're brave enough to go under the knife or photoshop yourself endlessly. These imperfections — in Nandini's words — are what make us unique, because if everyone looked the same, the world would be an incredibly boring place.
But despite this, Maya can't bring herself to not notice the way her thighs look slightly too big compared to her chest. The bandage secured around her neck hides Camille's mark, but the thin scars between her breasts from the pepper-up incident and the stretch marks that grace her hips are displayed all too starkly in the bring lighting of the changing room. She crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than ever. Her eyes flit to the aforementioned bag that Izzy left with her.
Maybe meeting her halfway wouldn't be such a bad idea.
Maya eventually steps out of the room with an oversized t-shirt on. TripAdvisor was right — the shimmering blue waters of the infinity pool truly do look stunning against the twinkling London skyline. The air is balmy for this time of year, a slight summer breeze ruffling her hair as it falls down from her back. Clary waves at her from the other end of the pool, seated on the edge as she adjusts the strap of her blue one-piece. Izzy smiles at her from her floater on top of the water, lying on an rectangular inflatable in a black cutout swimsuit that sets off her dark eyes. And then — ever the adventurous — there's Alec swimming around in snorkeling gear, bobbing up to the surface for a moment to yell a quick 'Hi!' before continuing his momentous exploration of the pool.
Some things never change.
Later, when she's drunk a few sips of Izzy's mango margarita and a warm buzz runs through her veins, Maya swims to the edge of the pool, her dark hair glossy with chlorinated water. The pool is thankfully heated, but it doesn't stop a slight shiver from going down her back as a gust of wind washes over them. Big red buses and black cabs make up the majority of the traffic below, as the tall skyscrapers and opulent restaurants around them paint a diverse picture of the night sky. The stars are faintly visible against the city lights as a chorus of voices sound from below, a man's strong Geordie accent making her chuckle for a bit. For once, she feels relatively at peace, the soft splashes of water behind her a calming sound. Right now, she's where she's supposed to be — school shopping done, bags packed, and surrounded by friends who've stuck by her throughout this entire mess.
Except one of them is missing.
"I miss him." Maya's startled by Alec's voice next to her. He leans against the edge of the pool, face placed on top of his crossed elbows. He clears his throat, softly, "Jace, I mean."
"I know who you meant, Alec." Maya tries to laugh, but the sound is hollow, "All of us do."
"It's weird, not having him here." Izzy swims up to the both of them, sighing as she looks at the city lights. She chuckles, softly, "Remember what we used to call ourselves?"
"The four musketeers." Alec laughs, "Jace gave us so much shit for it — said it was dorky or whatever — but he'd still smile whenever Maya's mom humored us."
"I hope he's okay." Izzy laughs, wiping a tear from her eye. She sniffles, "God, I hope he's alive."
"I wish we could do something." Clary sits up on the poolside chair, shoulders sighing in defeat, "But we have no idea where Valentine's taken him."
"And we can't go looking for him in the US either." Alec scoffs, derisively, "The London Institute would skin us alive if we left the country."
"This is bullshit, isn't it?" Maya scoffs, bitterness creeping into her tone, "Sending us off to another country while they spin an outlandish story to cover this mess up. Always dealing with the symptoms instead of the problems."
"That's the New York Institute for you." Izzy rolls her eyes, "No wonder we didn't make the top 5 in rankings last year."
"The only thing we can do is try to gather information from where we are, " Alec sighs, "Though I doubt breaking into the Institute archives is a discreet way to carry this out."
"Something doesn't sit right with me about leaving the three of you here." Izzy furrow her brows at Maya, "I can't explain it . . . but it's a gut feeling. But it doesn't seem like I have a choice."
"You could visit, y'know?" Clary pipes up, "On holiday break and all."
"I'll try my best." Izzy smiles, softly, but her expression has a hint of uncertainty in it.
"Surprise!" A familiar voice breaks the tense mood around them. Maya whirls around, a grin spreading around her face as she sees Diana set down a white box on a nearby table, "I brought brownies."
"I was wondering when you'd show up." Maya grins, softly, quickly swimming over to the other side of the pool. She slowly climbs up the ladder to the deck, "Spent some quality time with Luna, did you?" While you were out spying on her brother doing creepy shit? Her conscience reminds her, as Maya pushes down the nagging thought.
"Oh, shut up." Diana's cheeks turn pink with embarrassment as she rolls her eyes, her brows furrowing as she looks around the deck, "Where's Jace?"
"Uh — funny question." Clary and Isabelle give each other a panicked look as Maya stammers, grin falling off her face in a second, "Jace . . is currently — "
"He's sick." Alec interjects, painting the most convincing look of disappointment on his face he can, "He got food poisoning right before the flight and had to stay back."
"Alright then . . . " Diana's eyes narrow as the moment passes, then she frowns, "You lot are quite jumpy today."
"It's jet lag." Clary laughs, nervously, "Messing with all of our brains, am I right?"
"Certainly." Maya sighs, picking up the box of brownies. A smile spreads across her face at the warmth into her hands, "You shouldn't have gone to the trouble—"
"I wanted to." Diana rolls her eyes, the corner of her mouth turning up, "Baking's becoming my new hobby."
"Do you mind?" Clary comes up to them as Maya opens the box, breaking off a piece and popping one into her mouth, "Mmm!" She raises her eyebrows in surprise, "These are great."
"That's my cue." Isabelle scampers over to them, eyes bright at the sight of sugar, and her brother follows suit. There's a few minutes in which they munch on brownies and make small talk. Izzy and Clary ask for the recipe, Alec recalls a baking disaster of his own, and Maya reminds him that she was the one who saved the burnt monstrosity him and his sister cooked up. As they laugh at the story, Maya hears the door beep open, and she looks over her shoulder, eyes widening in surprise at the sight in front of her.
"Diana, you forgot these—" Draco Malfoy stops in his tracks as their eyes meet, grey eyes freezing on the spot. He pauses for a moment, mouth half-open as he looks at her, "Rajesh." His tone turns somewhere between astonished and awed, "You're here."
"Who do you think I came here for?" Diana gives him an incredulous look. Her dark green eyes light up in recognition as she spots the hoodie draped over her brother's arm, "I knew I left that somewhere."
"Yeah. In the lobby." Draco rolls his eyes as he throws Diana's hoodie to her, the younger girl catching it in time. He awkwardly clears his throat, "I hate to interrupt, but we have to be home soon. Dinner's in a few hours."
"We can worry about dinner in a few hours, then." Diana rolls her eyes at her brother, holding out the box to him, "There's an extra brownie left."
"Diana—" An exasperated look comes over his face and Maya has to resist the urge to snicker.
"Stay for a bit, won't you?" Diana sighs, "The train won't arrive for another thirty minutes, anyway."
Draco hesitates for a moment, eyeing the four of them, then sighs, reluctantly stepping forward, "If you insist."
"You managed to get your brother to willingly use Mundane transport?" Maya raises her eyebrows as he grabs a brownie from the box, "That's a shocker."
"Nothing a little blackmail can't solve." Diana winks in her direction.
"Don't be so dismissive, Rajesh." He clicks his tongue, and as his eyes cast down her figure before coming back up to her eyes, "Sometimes, you'll find that people can . . . . surprise you."
"People can." Maya scoffs, "You, on the other hand . . . "
"I'm aware of my own superiority, thank you very much." He rolls his eyes at her, and for the first time that day, Maya notices the way the sharp black lines of his suit emphasize the tall, lean lines of his figure.
"I saw." Maya glares directly back at him, "It's not as appealing as you think it is."
Maya hears Alec mutter something to Izzy in a hushed whisper, "What is happening?!"
"Alec, let's go." Clary pipes up, eyeing Maya and Draco with curiosity, "We have the thing, remember?"
"Thing?" Alec's brows furrow in confusion, "What thing?"
"The thing, Alec." Izzy presses, giving him a pointed look, "The important thing?"
"Huh?" He looks utterly bewildered.
"Don't tell me you forgot." Diana gives him a very unconvincing look of shock, "It's so urgent as well—"
"Ah, yes!" Alec presses his lips together, finally catching on, "That thing." He coughs, loudly, hastily stepping back from them, "Well then, we'll leave you two to it. Let's go do the thing."
As soon as the four of them scatter out of the room, Draco narrows his eyes, "Your friends are interesting."
"Really?" Maya's tone drips with sarcasm as she rolls her eyes, "I never would've guessed."
"What's your issue, Rajesh?" He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Oh, please, spare me the pretense." Maya snaps, "You know exactly what the problem is." The silence on his end only makes her anger grow, "Oh so now you shut up." Maya laughs, coldly.
"I don't know what you want me to say." He scoffs.
"Don't you?" She scoffs, "Or are you just all too comfortable with using racial slurs nowadays?"
"What the fuck is that on your neck?" His eyes widen as he catches sight of the bandage, and Maya's heart drops into her stomach as she realizes that she forgot to glamour it.
"Nothing." Maya bats off the question, narrowing her eyes, "Don't change the subject."
"It doesn't look like nothing." Draco mutters, and as his fingertips run over her skin, Maya feels an electric shock go through her and she jerks back, making him flinch with the sudden movement, "Are you hurt?"
"Save your concern for those lesser than you, Malfoy." Maya snaps, her tone utterly scathing, "And quit with the deflection. It's irritating."
"You know what I find irritating, Rajesh?" He quirks up an amused eyebrow as he steps closer to her, and Maya stifles the sharp intake of breath that comes with his proximity, "Your tendency to bullshit when you're cornered."
"Oh, you want to talk about bullshit?" Maya scoffs, looking up at him, "Alright, Mr. Righteous. Why were you so eager to get your mother off your tail at Madam Malkin's?"
Draco's smirk vanishes, "That's none of your concern."
"Isn't it?" Maya bites her lip, "Funny how quickly you change tactics when the tables are turned."
"Quit the games." He rolls his eyes.
"Oh, I'm not playing any games." Maya smiles as sweetly as she can, "I'm just asking you to admit that you fucked up the words that came out of your mouth."
"You've never had a problem with my words before." Draco smirks, "Why the sudden change of heart?"
Maya opens her mouth to answer, but a deep feeling of guilt stops her. She has to admit to the truth in his words — despite her feelings for him, until now, she's been very aware of what's drifted them apart. But these past few months have been exhausting down to her bones, and somehow, Maya's ignored the ugly parts of him in order to cling onto any faint sunlit solace she can grasp in the darkness of Valentine's resurgence. Instead, she glares defiantly up at him, spitting, "I always have. You just haven't listened. Or cared enough to stop."
"I have never claimed to be a decent person, Rajesh." Draco scoffs, and the words send an angry chill down her spine. His argentine eyes latch onto something behind her, blond brows furrowing, "Why on earth do you have a set of Damascus steel knives in your arsenal?"
Fuck. With bated breath, Maya realizes that she completely forgot to re-stash them in her bag, Nandini having insisted that she carry them around at all times in case of a demon altercation. Her brain scrambles to justify, to rationalize, to give somewhat of an explanation of why the fuck she has weapons laid out alongside a copy of The Hunger Games. But then, a nagging thought pops into her head — why does she have to say anything? After the way he's acted today, the last thing Maya owes him is an explanation about her own decisions.
"None of your business." She replies, calmly, which makes him scoff.
"Back to this again, are we?" Draco rolls his eyes, "Was the argument this summer not enough for you?"
"Okay, if you're so keen on interrogating me, then let me do the same." Maya snaps, her voice cold as her eyes narrow. She steps closer to him, the air between them charged and electrifying as he glares down at her, "Why are you wearing a long-sleeved shirt in 70-degree weather? Why were you so eager to get your shopping done alone? And what exactly, pray tell, were you threatening Borgin with at his shop?"
Draco's face slowly changes from one of amusement to one of shock, and with a sudden pang of fear, Maya realizes that she's admitted to following his footsteps after the little jaunt to Fred & George's shop. But just as he opens his mouth to retort, or question her, or maybe kiss her, with the way his eyes keep flitting down to her lips and back — Izzy becomes her saving grace, leaning against the doorframe as she pipes up, "Food's here, Maya."
"What?" The question momentarily catches Maya off guard as she stumbles backward, not having realized how little space there was between her and Draco. She refuses to look back at him, clearing her throat awkwardly as she faces her friend.
"Your avocado uramaki?" A hint of a smirk curls the corner of her mouth as Izzy's eyes flit between the two of them, "Or were you too . . . preoccupied . . . to remember?"
"Not at all." The quickness of her retort surprises even herself, and Maya flicks her wrist, depositing the book and the knives back into the bag, "In fact—" She slings it over her shoulder, glancing to Draco's eyes for a brief moment before the intensity of them becomes too much for her, "I was just leaving."
"Don't let me keep you, then." Draco clears his throat as he steps back, eyes flashing for a moment before they wither of all emotion, "Seems like you have better things to do, anyway."
"Definitely." As she leaves, it takes every fibre of Maya's being to not shove her shoulder into his as hard as she can.
i genuinely hate the writing in this but have exams coming up so this is the best banter i could do. hope reading was fun lmao.
- love,
disha <3
Chapter 60: Chapter 60
Chapter Text
September 2016
"FUCK—FUCK—FUCK—" Clary whimpers, panicking.
"I told you to set the alarm earlier!!" Maya screams at her as they dash down platform nine-and-three-quarters. The steam from the Hogwarts express billows down from them, making her eyes water as her voice hacks, "If we miss this train, I swear to god, I will fucking murder—"
"We just need to run faster!!" Clary screams back, tugging Maya along at a breakneck speed as she stumbles, "Who names a platform nine-and-three-quarters, anyway?!" She sputters, coughing loudly, "It's like they wanted us to get lost."
"It's to deter Mundanes, you dumbass!!" Maya snaps, "Not to confuse Shadowhunters with perfect vision yet somehow no common sense—"
"Oh, shut up." Clary smacks her on the back of the head as Maya scowls. Her eyes suddenly light up in recognition as she spots an open door, the train starting to move as the two of them dash forward, "Come on! We can still make it—"
"All aboard!" The conductor yells, and to Maya's utter horror, the door slowly begins to close.
"Go!!" She screams, propelling Clary forward.
The redhead just freezes, staring at her blankly, "W-what?"
"Run, you idiot!!" Maya screams, running a frustrated hand through her hair, "The train's already leaving. If you jump, you can make it! Go—" She pushes Clary forward, but the redhead catches her arm just in time, dragging her along once more, "What are you—"
"If I'm leaving, you are too!" Clary yells fiercely, bending her knees as the train door lurches towards them, "Now!!"
In the second Maya hesitates, Clary lets go, and Maya launches herself forward, yelling as the train door slams shut behind her. There's a moment where she's suspended in motion, a terrifying moment in which Maya's scared she's going to end up crushed underneath the wheels and splattered all over the train tracks. She closes her eyes in fear.
And then suddenly, Maya hears an 'oof!' from in front of her and groans in pain as her knees slam into the carpeted train floor, letting out an exhausted breath of relief as her shoulders slump. Her heart races, pounding with adrenaline, and she looks up at the ceiling, letting out a sharp exhale, "What's the count on how many times you've saved my ass again?"
"I'd say about a million, Rajesh." Draco Malfoy's strained voice floats from beneath her, and to her utter horror, she registers the weight of his hands wrapped around her hips holding her up as her hands lie on either of his head.
There's a moment in which neither of them dare to breathe, in which silver locks with sapphire and Maya's brain goes blank as her hair falls around them like a curtain. Then she hears a familiar voice clear her throat — and looks up to find Clary watching them with a mixture of amusement and mirth. However, the next sentence that comes out of his mouth shatters the fragile peace that seems to have descended upon them in the past few seconds, "Couldn't resist throwing yourself at me, could you?"
"Oh, fuck off, Malfoy." Maya scrambles to her feet, cheeks red with mortification as she snaps, "I wouldn't touch you with a twenty-foot pole." She defensively crosses her arms over her chest.
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Rajesh." A smirk curls the corner of his mouth as he brushes the dust off of his suit, running a hand through his annoyingly perfect blond hair as he steps back, "Maybe thank me for saving your life next time?"
"Don't give yourself too much credit." Maya rolls her eyes at him in annoyance, "You were a nice landing pad, though."
"Ah, yes. My sole purpose in life." He scoffs, and Maya has to bite back a snicker at how indignant he looks, "Maybe remember my harmless qualities next time you try to stalk me?"
The humor immediately vanishes off of Maya's face as a bitter taste fills her mouth, "Nothing about what you were doing was harmless."
"And since when was it your job to make sure of that?" Draco raises a cool eyebrow as Maya squirms, "Or could you just not stay away from me any longer?"
"You think you hold a much higher regard in my mind than you actually do." Maya scoffs, "And you're one to talk about desire. You could barely keep your eyes on my face at the pool."
"That's because I was um — distracted — by my other duties." A tint of red graces his high cheekbones as he breaks eye contact, looking at the floor as his voice takes on a snide tone, "This may surprise you, Rajesh, but not everyone has the time to constantly fix their gaze upon your angelic features."
"Did — did you just call me pretty?" Maya raises an eyebrow as a smirk curls the corner of her mouth.
"What? No — " He sputters, "I was making a point. I used that word ironically—"
"Mm-hm, " Maya's eyebrows knit together as she looks straight into his eyes, "Is that why the first place your hands went to catch me was my hips?"
"They were easy to grab — don't fucking look at me like that." He snaps, as Maya snickers, leaning against an amused Clary for support. Draco Malfoy lets out a frustrated groans, burying his face in his hands, "God, you're insufferable."
"Why are you still talking to me, then?" She questions, fighting to keep her laughter at bay as he glares down at her.
"Oh, fuck you, Rajesh!" Malfoy fumes, storming away as Clary bursts into laughter, clutching Maya for support.
"In your dreams!" She calls out, as he turns the corner, glaring furiously at her before disappearing into a compartment.
"You certainly have some interesting suitors." Clary laughs, wiping the tears of mirth from her eyes.
"What? No — " Maya sputters, her tone disgusted, "We're not dating. We despise each other—"
"Is that why you were teasing him about being attracted to you?" Clary smirks, "Or was that just another one of your completely normal interactions?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Maya turns away from her as they walk down the aisle to Luna and Diana's compartment.
"Sure you don't." She completely avoids Clary's eyes as the redhead playfully nudges her.
"You think Draco Malfoy is a what?!—" Maya sputters, nearly choking on her mouthful of popcorn.
"A Death Eater." Harry finishes, "He's replaced his father as a Death Eater."
There's a moment of horrified silence in which none of them dare to breathe. Then Clary pipes up, innocently, "What's a Death Eater?" Everyone's heads snap to her, and she stammers, freezing up, "I mean — I know what a Death Eater is, obviously — I just — what did you mean by that?"
"You're barking." Ron gives him an incredulous look, "He's sixteen. And besides, it's Malfoy."
You were doing much worse before his age, muses a nasty voice in her head. "Well then, what was he doing in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry shrugs, "Browsing for furniture?"
"Just hanging around in shady shops doesn't make someone a Death Eater, Harry." Maya rolls her eyes, even as an inkling of suspicion creeps into her brain, "That's a serious accusation to throw around."
"He wasn't just hanging around." Harry scoffs, "He was threatening Borgin. Did you see the look on the poor man's face?"
"It's a creepy shop. He's a creepy bloke." Ron sighs, "Maybe Borgin was shocked that he finally found someone creepier than him?"
"His father is a Death Eater." Neville mutters, nervously, "It could only make sense that he's the next in line."
"Are you kidding?" Hermione scoffs, "By that theory, Maya should've become a serial killer already, considering her father's a mass murderer."
At the word murder, Maya's heart drops into her stomach, and her nails dig into her palms with a familiar ferocity. Clary seems to notice the tidal wave of emotions rising up inside her, placing a delicate hand on her shoulder as her tone leans toward concern, "Maybe we should—"
"Do you really think this is an acceptable conversation to be having with Diana only one compartment away?" Maya snaps, glaring directly into Harry's eyes.
The compartment goes deathly silent as Hermione's eyes widen in shock at her outburst. Then Harry speaks again, his voice low, "It was just a theory—"
"Keep your theorizing in your head. Her father is in prison." Maya sighs, "Do you have any idea how she would feel if she heard you accusing her brother of the very thing that landed Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban?"
As Harry opens his mouth to answer, a handsome brown owl flies in, chirping as it drops a letter in his and Neville's laps. He slides it out of the envelope, their argument momentarily forgotten as he raises an eyebrow, "Professor Slughorn wants to meet for lunch in Compartment C."
"Who's Slughorn?" Neville frowns, looking down at his own letter.
"New professor." Harry answers, briskly. His eyes meet Maya's with regret for a second, "Look I'm sorry — just don't mention this in front of her, alright?"
As they leave, Ron sighs, "You didn't have to lay into him like that, Maya."
"What else was I supposed to say?" Maya scoffs, "Imagine if Diana had heard — she would have never spoken to him again."
"It's sweet that you care about her enough to defend her when she's not here." Clary flashes her a small smile, squeezing her hand for support.
"I don't know . . . " Hermione narrows her eyes at Maya, and she suddenly feels the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
"What?" Maya questions, frowning.
"Even back at the shop . . . there was something different about the way you spoke to him." Hermione's voice is quiet, but there's no hint of the accusation Maya's expected — only doubt, "Call me crazy, but — " She laughs, softly, "I thought you were going to defend him for a moment."
"What?" The statement completely catches Maya off guard as she sputters, "I would never! Why would you think that?"
"Just an irrational fear." Hermione sighs in relief, running a hand through her bushy hair, "I feel better now that you've proved me wrong, honestly."
"I'll always be on your side, 'Mione." A gnawing feeling of guilt claws into Maya's chest as she sighs, "Especially when it comes to Malfoy."
A few hours later, Maya makes a visit to the bathroom to change into her Hogwarts uniform, the castle barely an hour away. She adjusts the collars of her robes in the mirror so that they cover the bandage on her neck, frowning at her reflection. There are deep shadows encircling her eyes, the rings dark and prominent as the sharper hollows of her cheekbones stand out against her caramel skin. Last year, she'd looked fragile and unstable, choppy short waves brushing against her jaw as the scale dropped lower and lower with each round of nightmares and flashbacks. Every night had been a battle with what she wanted to forget, the bloody memory loop so stark it was though as she was reliving them every time she closed her eyes. The weight on her shoulders is somehow familiar and daunting at once. She's used to carrying pain, doubt, grief — the sick feeling of watching a soul leave it's body is a hauntingly familiar sight these days. But the pure, raw fear running through her veins is unfamiliar territory — a terror not for her own life, but at the dark sight of the garangutan castle ahead.
Nephilim aren't commonly referred to as delusional — but Maya would love to paste a picture of the Institute right next to the definition, because it would take a divine intervention for this scheme to be remotely plausible, and she's sure Raziel is far from on their side.
The train is almost completely dark as Maya's footsteps echo back down the corridor, an eerie quiet enveloping the compartments around her. The current silence is a startling contrast to the bustling excitement from before — the anticipation of a new school year injecting a sense of camaraderie in her classmates. And as she walks further down, Maya registers the train stopping to meet the Hogsmeade platform, and runs to the next door, hoping her friends haven't already disembarked. However, the sight that greets her is an utter shock — the scream of Draco Malfoy's 'Petrificus Totalus!' roots her to the spot as Harry's body tumbles onto the floor of the carriage, invisibility cloak whipped off of him in seconds.
There's a moment of total silence between them, a moment where Maya's utterly frozen in shock as Draco pants with the exertion, staring into her eyes with shards of betrayal piercing her own. They cut through her too, the pain in his expression softening the rage that's beginning to build inside her — a rage that makes her pull her wand out of her pocket and mutter a countercurse under her breath. Harry scrambles to his feet as soon as she flicks her wrist, pushing her smaller frame behind him as he searches his own pockets, "Oh, you're going to pay for this, Malfoy"
"Pay for what?" He scoffs, but the humor is gone from his tone as he steps toward them. Maya can't tell if it's supposed to be threatening or not, but her hand instinctively tightens around her wand, "You were the one hiding up there with the suitcases. Y'know—" Draco pauses, a laugh sounding from him that sends a shiver down Maya's spine, "If it weren't for the fact that half the Gryffindor population swoons after you, I'd think you were running after me."
"Get over yourself." Harry scoffs, "Even if you were my type, the last person I'd want to date is a blood purist like you."
"As if I care what you think of me." Draco sneers, contemptuously, "What I do care about, Potter, is you and your friends's obsessions with meddling in business that isn't yours." His eyes swirl with betrayal as he gives Maya a silent glance, quick enough that Harry misses it, but it sends an enraged shiver down her spine as he scoffs, turning back to the scar-headed boy.
"Want to play the holier-than-thou card, do you?" Harry scoffs, stepping closer to Malfoy, "When whatever you were threatening Borgin with was far from pure?"
"Oh, like you're a saint—"
"Enough!!" Maya screams the word so loud that both the boys flinch, Harry looking at her in utter shock as the grating harshness of her tone hits him, "Stop it! Both of you—"
"Maya, he hexed me!!—" Harry's face changes from shock to utter outrage as he glares at her, mouth falling open in disbelief.
"I'll take care of him, Harry." She interrupts, holding up a hand to stop his indignant retort, "Go join the feast. I'll meet you at the Great Hall later."
"I'm not leaving you alone with Malfoy—" Harry starts.
"Harry, stop. Go." Maya snaps, flicking open the compartment door with a swish of her fingertips, "Ron and Hermione are probably worried sick. Besides—" She scoffs, giving Draco a glanced of feigned amusement, "I've met Chihuahuas more menacing than him."
"Still—" Harry tries, looking between them with apprehension.
"Harry, I'm not going to repeat myself." Maya snaps, her patience growing thinner as the distance before them stretches the edges of her resolve, "Go. I am perfectly capable of fighting back."
Something in Draco's eyes shifts at her sentence, and as Harry sighs, grumbling a forlorn 'You have twenty minutes' under his breath. The tension between them shifts as the compartment door closes, and it's like a shadow falls over her shoulders as she slumps against a seat, letting out a breathless laugh.
It's like a ton of bricks has been hurled at her shoulders, the memories of the days and nights tangling to form one exhausting blur. Anger simmers under her skin — at him, at herself, at her friends, at whoever's landed her in this mess and what deluded fates decided to grind her mental capacity down with conflict until her resolve is reduced to ash. She's tired. She's so fucking tired. Tired of being put between two opposing sides as a pawn, forced to choose between a black and a white that appear in shades of grey to her. Maya is done. And as the slow drawl of his voice sounds once again, a tidal wave of irritation roars up within her, far from the butterflies that swarmed her chest this summer, "Are you going to say something, Rajesh, or are you just going to keep passive-aggressively glaring at the floor until I repent at the altar?"
"You're lucky I haven't hexed you straight back to hell yet, Malfoy." Maya snaps, glaring up at him as her hands shake with anger, "I knew you were a coward, but petrifying someone when their back is turned is low. Even for you."
"So I was just supposed to let Potter dangle a magnifying glass on my life without complaint?" He scoffs, looking away, "Wow, I'm sorry that defending myself against an invasion of my privacy irks your morals so much, Rajesh."
"If I had known he was going to spy on you, I wouldn't have let him—" Maya snaps, but Draco cuts her off again.
"Oh, don't give me that crap." He rolls his eyes, "If you were actually that concerned, you would've stopped Potter from following me at Diagon Alley."
"I don't know what you want me to say, " Maya looks up at him, her eyes wide with incredulity, "I don't have a Time Turner, Malfoy. I can't go back and change what happened."
"That is the most daft excuse I have ever heard." Draco scoffs, and the words make something in Maya snap.
"You want to talk about excuses?" She strides toward him, hair flying out behind her as her footfalls thud throughout the compartment, "For someone almost at the top of our class, your lack of accountability is astounding. You're a fucking coward, Malfoy."
Draco's argentine eyes darken with anger as his voice grows dark, "Don't you dare call me that."
"What else should I call you, then?" Maya scoffs. The words tumbling out of her mouth are vile. Venomous. Months ago, they would've been buried deep inside her mind, but the rage coursing through her veins forces them to the forefront of her speech, "Insecure? Bigoted? A bully who derives his only form of gratification from stamping down anyone who threatens his gigantic ego?"
"You act like you've never noticed these things before." He scoffs, firing back. Draco's unaffected expression further coils the atom bomb of anger gaining steam inside Maya, "Have the skeletons in your closet finally taken off your rose-colored glasses, Rajesh?"
"What?" Maya snaps. Shock courses through her at the harshness in his words, even though the poison dripping from her tone is equally corrosive.
"Oh, spare me the facade. You're hiding something. I know you are." Draco stalks toward her, and it takes everything in Maya not to lean into his presence, "Walking around with Shadowhunter escorts, evading questions, acting like nothing has changed. For a supposed exchange student, you and Prewett seem awfully close."
"It's called having actual friends, Malfoy." Maya scoffs, "Something you would never understand."
"If I repulse you so much, why are you still standing in front of me then?" Draco raises a petulant eyebrow. His tall, looming frame leans closer to her as he places an arm on the pillar next to her head. Maya fights back a sharp inhale at the sudden decrease in his proximity. A strand of his blond hair falls into his eyes, and the harsh lines of his high cheekbones lose their sharpness as his tone softens, "This summer, you seemed like you couldn't get enough of me. I thought we had something, Rajesh." Something in Draco's eyes falls, an invisible wall breaking down, "After that kiss—"
"A kiss means nothing, Malfoy." The words leave Maya's mouth before she can stop herself, "Not when you're not who I thought you were. Or rather, who you could become if you actually had some semblance of self-awareness."
The words hang between them like thick smoke, blurring the tension and anger that clings to the walls of the compartment like a layer of grime you can't scrub off. In that moment, Maya sees Draco freeze, something fracturing in his eyes. His gaze falters, mouth falling open as a memory hits her.
'Was I your first kiss?' Draco's tone turns soft at the other end of the line, gingerly approaching the subject.
'Yeah.' Maya admits, a soft blush staining her cheeks, 'Was I yours?'
'No, ' There's a tiny twinge of disappointment within her, one that Maya knows she has no right to feel. But the words that tumble from Draco's lips next send a soaring feeling towards her, a tentative vulnerability gracing his tone that she's never heard before, 'But you were the first one that meant something.'
With him, she's never had to hide. That's the thing with fraternizing with the enemy. They've seen the worst sides of each other — what with the bickering, scathing arguments and slurs that pour out of his lips so casually they make her blood boil. Before the glaring reality of her situation as of late, Maya's hatred towards him had long collapsed into a promising hope. Hope that no matter how dark and twisted that someone may seem, there could be some semblance of light inside them. She'd realized that she'd never really hated him. It had been more like a gnawing resentment. An anger towards someone who things seemed to come to so effortlessly even when they'd done nothing to deserve it. Up until now, Maya's been relatively sure that neither of them would cross into that territory again. But with the wounded look in his silvery eyes, betrayal, anger and shock swirling around the dark irises in a way that makes horror and guilt claw at her insides — she might have done the first thing to really push him over the edge.
"Maya?!" An anxious voice sounds from the compartment door, and Maya realizes it's Clary, probably sent by Harry to gauge her whereabouts all this time, "Are you okay in there? I've been looking everywhere for you."
Draco flinches back, stumbling a few steps back as though she's slapped him. There's a guarded look in his eyes, one that Maya thought she'd never see again. And she realizes, with shock, that whatever soft words they've shared together are nothing in the face of an incoming war so brutal it could tear them both apart. Her mouth falls open in realization, and she reaches for him, "Draco, I—"
"Don't." He snaps, and Maya recoils, flinching backward. Draco picks up his suitcase, dragging it behind him as he stalks out of the door on the other side, "Don't try and make this any better."
Fuck.
This is going to be a long year, Maya thinks to herself, ignoring the burning behind her eyes that seems ever so pervasive.
"Maya?" Clary's voice sounds from the compartment door, "You there?"
Maya wipes a tear falling from her eye, her voice wavering as she calls back, "Coming!"
i was listening to you're losing me while writing this. don't assassinate me pls.
- xoxo,
gossip girl.
Chapter 61: Chapter 61
Chapter Text
September 2016
THE CHOKING PAIN OF A FIST CLENCHING AROUND HER THROAT makes Maya bolt upright out of bed.
Heaving gasps leave her as she wheezes, hands immediately searching around her throat for evidence of the phantom sensation. Maya gasps, shuddering as she allows large gulps oxygen to enter her lungs, the darkness of her dormitory spinning and blurring around her as she tries to catch her bearings once more. Then, she slumps back down onto her bed with a thump, her head hitting the pillow again with a force that makes Diana stir in the bed across from her, the purple-and-blonde mess of her hair strewn haphazardly along her pillow. Her eyes flit to the clock on her nightstand, and a sense of resignation spikes within her as the numbers read out 5:04. For the third fucking time this week.
She lies there, for a few moments, absorbing the near-silence around her. The details from tonight's nightmare are hazy — they always are, after she wakes up. Maya can recall the burning sensation in her hamstrings as she ran, the sound of dead leaves crunching beneath her feet and the tall pines of the forest around her sending dark shadows over her path, the full moon above her the only source of illumination. She doesn't remember what — or who — she was running from, the thudding of her footfalls matching the frantic beat of her heart. But the unadulterated fear in her veins is the one thing that's clung to her like smoke, a mixture of horror, adrenaline and terror so palpable it makes her scan the shadows around her room with paranoia, waiting for them to jump out at her, claws unleashed.
Eventually, like all these mornings before, Maya manages to pull herself out of bed and into the bathroom, tying her hair out of her face as she brushes her teeth. It's grown past her shoulders now, far from the choppy bob Izzy had hacked it into this time last year. The wavy strands frame her slightly pink face in the steam-covered, post-shower mirror, slightly softening the once-sharp angles, and Maya's surprised to find that she likes it this way. She finishes knotting her Gryffindor tie and straightens her collar, the soft sounds of conversation from the dorm growing louder as Maya shuts the bathroom door behind herself. Clary's dressed already, fixing her red hair into a loose braid as she smiles at Maya, "What took you so long?"
"I...." Maya trails off, mind flashing back to the many moments she spent zoned out as the water ran over her hair, heart frantically thudding as her blood pumped with electric anxiety. She clears her throat, suddenly feeling self-conscious, "I ran out of shampoo."
"You could've asked me. I have extra in the cupboard." Diana frowns, eyes momentarily flitting over the dark circles beneath Maya eyes. There's a moment passing between them that Clary doesn't notice, a moment where Diana's eyes narrow with a spark of something that feels like suspicion. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but stops at the hitch in Maya's breath, sparing Clary a millisecond's glance before a glint of understanding pops into her head, "Did you finish your Transfiguration worksheet?"
"Yes, mother." Maya rolls her eyes teasingly, suddenly grateful for how easily Diana can read her moods, "I've eaten my vegetables and made my bed as well."
"Good child." Diana nods, airily, as Clary snickers.
Maya's eyes flit up to the aforementioned cupboard for a few seconds, before her eyes narrow at a magnet holding a paper in place and she lets out an embarrassed groan, covering her face with her hand, "Oh come on, Diana! Did you really have to pin up my O.W.L results for everyone to see?"
"It's out of pride, you idiot!" Diana proclaims, "Besides, I need some sort of motivation to study for them this year, considering the immaculate grades you got."
"And here I thought you were above competing with me." Maya tuts, playfully, a hint of pride creeping up on her as she remembers the proud expression on Nandini's face as she'd opened them before leaving New York. There hadn't been a single fail grade, not even a standard 'Acceptable' to show that she'd scraped by in certain subjects. Instead, she'd gotten all 'Exceeds Expectations' and above, the 'Outstandings' in Astronomy, Defence Against The Dark Arts, Transfiguration and History of Magic making a warm feeling of success glow within her. Despite all that had happened last year, she'd pulled through and gotten the grades she deserved, with only her hard work to depend on. And with the turn of events so far, it looks like this year might be the same.
"I didn't know you were a straight-A student." Clary mutters, looking up at the parchment with wonder.
"Maya and my brother have been tied for being near the top of our class since well like ..... forever, " Diana sighs, "Unfortunately, no one's managed to beat out Hermione Granger for first place. That witch eats books for breakfast."
"What are her parents fucking feeding her?" Maya mutters, frowning at her appearance as she lines her eyes with one hand, flicking her other wrist to organize her textbooks into her satchel, "I might ask my mom to spike my cereal with whatever drug she's on."
"I doubt that would go over well with Nandini, " Clary sighs as Maya raises her eyebrow at the redhead, turning back in shock.
"Since when are you on first-name basis with my mother?" She scoffs, looking at Clary with incredulity.
"Since she sent me these doughnuts yesterday." Clary smirks, grabbing a box from her nightstand and opening the lid. The warm smell of groundnut oil and curry leaves reaches Maya's nose, and she immediately shoots Clary a withering glare.
"Don't you dare call them 'doughnuts'." Maya rolls her eyes, gesticulating with her fingers, "They're medhu vadai."
"Look like the same thing to me." Clary shrugs, much to Maya's annoyance. The flame of irritation ignites further as the redhead grabs the last one from the box, popping it into her mouth with a look of false shock, "Oh no! They're all gone."
"Diana, I will pay you five Galleons to kick her for me. " Maya looks up at the ceiling in rage, exhaling through gritted teeth.
"No amount of money will make me take part in such violent acts." Diana huffs, haughtily, "I'm a lady, you know."
"I'm going to go snag a pastry before Maya punches me, " Clary gets up and snickers as she makes a beeline for the door. Her face turns dreamy at the thought, "I wonder if they have those Bear Claws today...."
Her voice drowns out as the door closes, and there's a few moments of quiet silence as Maya clips on her earrings, slinging her satchel over her shoulder, "Let's go grab breakfast before Defence. I'm starving—"
"Are you having nightmares again?" Diana interrupts her, voice nervous.
Maya freeze, a slow sense of guilt melting like butter as she pauses. Then she sighs, busying herself with arranging her satchel, "No. Why?"
"I heard you, you know. This morning." Diana states, tentatively, "And the last one. And the one before that."
"It has nothing to do with nightmares." Maya clears her throat as she puts her phone on silent, "I've just wanted to get up early."
"I've seen you snore until noon on Saturdays."
"People can change, Diana." The words come out harsher than intended, and with sadness, Maya watches something in Diana's expression harden. "I didn't mean it like that."
"No, you're right." Diana laughs, a sense of defeat in her tone as Maya swallows in guilt, "Maybe I'm reading into things. Just .... if there's anything that ... y'know." She pauses, nervously, "You can talk to me."
I can't. Something twists in Maya's chest at her words, Not about this. "I know." She smiles, the stretch of her lips painful to her own muscles, "Let's head downstairs, yeah?"
"Yeah." Diana frowns for a second before following her out the door.
"You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe." Snape purses his lips, his shoes clinking across the dark floor of the DADA classroom as he paces in front of them, "Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced." He sets off around the edge of the room, speaking now in a lower voice; the class cranes their necks to keep him in view.
"The Dark Arts," says Snape, "are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defences must, therefore, be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," he indicates a few of them as he sweeps past, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse’ (he waves a hand towards a witch who was clearly shrieking in agony, and Maya shudders) ‘feel the Dementor’s Kiss’ (a wizard lying huddled and blank-eyed slumped against a wall) ‘or provoke the aggression of the Inferius’ (a bloody mass upon the ground that makes Clary shiver from next to her). "
"He takes himself a bit too seriously, don't you think?" Clary mutters into her ear, pretending to write down notes for her supposed thesis even though Maya can see doodled flowers out of the corner of her eye.
"We might need it." Maya glances out at the window, the grey clouds painting the sky with a darkness that seems to hover over all of them, "I hate to agree with him, but he might be right about the shitty teachers."
"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" pipes up Parvati Patil in a high-pitched voice. "Is it definite, is he using them?"
"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past," says Snape, "which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now …" He sets off again around the other side of the classroom towards his desk, and again, the class watches him as he walks, his dark robes billowing behind him. "… you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"
Hermione’s hand shoots into the air before any of them can open their mouths. Snape takes his time looking around at everybody else, making sure he has no other choice, before saying curtly, "Very well – Miss Granger?"
"Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform," says Hermione, "Which gives you a split-second advantage."
"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," drawls Snape, dismissively, as Pansy Parkinson's snigger makes Maya roll her eyes, "but correct in essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some lack," His gaze lingers maliciously upon Harry for a second, and Maya recalls their disastrous Occlumency lesson from last year.
"You will now divide into pairs." Snape goes on, looking over them with apprehension, "One of you will silently cast a jinx, and the other will repel it to the best of their ability. All spells used should be non-lethal." His eyes drift to a certain blond Slytherin in the back of the room, and even though Maya avoids looking at him, she can feel the heat of Malfoy's glare back at Snape.
"I'm sitting this one out, I guess." Clary mutters, as her classmates begin to shift, Snape reading out the pairs from a list in his hands, "Take notes for my case study and all that."
"Your acting skills have improved, " The corner of Maya's mouth turns up as she grasps her wand, "This is going to be a piece of cake."
"Because you're a warlock?" Clary quirks up an eyebrow, "I'm pretty sure that's cheating."
"No, ew. I do have some amount of integrity." Maya rolls her eyes, "Harry taught us how to do these during the D.A. meetings last year. Pretty much everyone mastered them."
"What's the D.A.?" Clary frowns, confused, and Maya realizes that she has no knowledge of past year's events.
"Long story — we had a shitty Defence teacher, so Harry, Ron, Hermione and I took the situation into our hands and formed a club of sorts, " Maya mutters, recounting the hushed meetings and rendezvouses from before, "Harry mainly took the lead and taught us a bunch of spells to save our asses in case Vol — You-Know-Who — came back, " Maya stops herself, suddenly feeling eyes on the both of them, then clears her throat, "Point being, we've done Non-Verbal spells before, so nothing can really go wrong—"
"And lastly, Draco Malfoy and Maya Rajesh." Snape's voice cuts her off mid-sentence, and her brain suddenly blanks.
There's a few moments where Snape's words sink in, then Maya squints, confused, "W-what?"
"You're partners, Rajesh." His tone is incredulous as he glares at her, "Were you not listening to my earlier instructions?"
"No, I was." Maya stutters, "Professor, I just—"
"One more distraction and you'll have detention for a week." Snape snaps, before turning to the rest of the class, "There will be no switching or swapping partners of any kind. You are all soon to be of age, so behave as such. Run along." He waves his hand dismissively, and the room becomes slightly chaotic as her classmates scurry to pair up.
"You look very happy about this." Clary smirks, as Maya's fists clench. Her chest tightens as she spots Malfoy across the room, who coolly avoids her eyes as he scrutinizes the rest of her classmates. She spots the tense set of his shoulders, and snorts, knowing that his feelings about this situation probably match hers.
"I'm absolutely thrilled." Maya's smile is sickeningly sweet as sarcasm drips from her tone.
Clary giggles at her expression, "Have fun."
The smile drops from Maya's face as she scowls, stalking away, "Shut up and write your thesis, Fray."
A few uncomfortable moments later, when all the desks have been pushed aside and everyone's been paired up, and the sound of magic hissing and crackling in the air surrounds her, Ron biting his lip in concentration as he flicks his wand in steady movements, blocking whatever curses Harry is throwing at him. Neville is less successful, muttering a curse under his breath here and there as Seamus stumbles, the force of his shield charm throwing him back. Malfoy, however, doesn't even attempt to make a move. No lunges or hexes thrown at her back like Maya might have expected. He simply just stands there, silently, wand hand at his side, eyes fixed at a spot on the wall. The sharp set of his jaw makes Maya sigh, and she pinches the bridge of her nose, irritation overcoming her.
"Are you going to just stand there like a corpse or actually do something?" She snaps at him, an edge of frustration taking over her tone.
Something changes in his expression, and he startles, "What?"
"Hex me. Or let me hex you, I don't really care." Maya scowls, glaring daggers at him, "I'm not going to let Snape ruin my grade just because you don't want to put in any effort."
"Go on, then. Hex me." Draco points to her wand lamely, running a hand through his almost white hair. Maya notices the beginning of dark shadows beneath his eyes, and he sighs, "Do your worst."
"So...that's it?" Maya scoffs, "You're just going to let me hex you without even trying to put up a shield charm—"
"I'm giving you the first shot, you idiot." Draco snaps, finally looking up at her. "I was waiting for you to start."
"You could have just told me that—"
"Yeah, well clearly, you're too dense to read the room—"
"Rajesh! Malfoy!" Snape yells at the both of them, causing Draco to jump in a way that would make Maya snicker if she wasn't so annoyed with him, "Start the spells, or else..."
"Sorry, Professor!" Maya yells back, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment.
"Swot." The comment makes her skin prickle, and Maya looks back at him to find Draco's amused gaze resting upon her.
"Yeah, well, your so-called gentlemanliness has wasted our time. But don't worry—" Maya scoffs, bowing mockingly, "Since you're clearly scared, I'll make sure to go easy on you."
"Scared?" He scoffs, raising a petulant blond eyebrow, "Of you?"
"Cut the crap, Malfoy." Maya rolls her eyes at him.
"Begin, then." He gestures to her wand, "If you're so confident in your own abilities."
"Alright." With a few seconds of warning, Maya immediately strikes, going for him with a jelly-legs curse. But before the pink jet of light can travel anywhere toward his legs, Malfoy flicks his wand with precision and blocks it without making a sound. She stares at him in incredulity before he answers, "Am I a worthy opponent now, Rajesh?"
"You blocked one curse, that doesn't mean—" Maya jumps, a yelp leaving her lips as he strikes without warning at her legs. Her shield charm is too late, and she nearly crashes into a desk as the green light barely misses her shins. She glares at him with fury, "Asshole."
"Your turn—" Draco's mouth opens and this time, Maya doesn't give him the chance to act first, aiming directly for his wand hand with a silent, 'Expelliarmus!'.
His wand flies out of his hand, but he manages to catch it in the other, and immediately lunges for her. Her shield charm stops the spell in mid-air, and she immediately counter-attacks, aiming an 'Impedimenta' at him. He doesn't manage to stop her in time, and Maya uses his slow movements as an opportunity to aim a stinging hex at his wrist, lunging forward with the force of her motion. This time, Malfoy manages to conjure a shield, but his eyes darken, a wicked smirk taking over his face, "Playing dirty, Rajesh?"
"Snape said that I could use non-lethal hexes." Maya pants as she replies, annoyed at how unaffected he looks, "As long as you're not dead, I have free reign."
"And here I thought you were capable of showing mercy." He tuts, striking fast with a Leg-locker curse, but she ducks, striking back with a laughing charm instead. However, Malfoy effortlessly blocks her again with a shield, and chooses the millisecond of delay to hit her with a wordless Tongue-tying curse.
Maya ducks, falling to the floor as the red jet of light misses her by millimeters. Her knee slams into the leg of a chair, and Maya hisses in pain, a hint of concern washes over Draco's face. But before he can open his mouth, she jumps to her feet and immediately aims a slug-vomiting charm at his mouth, "Not when it comes to you."
"I see, " Draco's shield charm blocks the curse in time, but he wastes no time in striking back equally as hard, lunging forward with a silent 'Stupefy' that nearly knocks Maya off her feet again, "Your excessive insults are making you sloppy."
"Sloppy?" Maya aims at Draco's arm with an 'Incarcerous', the rope wrapping around his wrist. She jerks her wand back as it drags him to her so they're chest to chest, "How do you know I'm not trying to distract you?"
"Because it's not working?" Draco laughs, vanishing the rope and immediately pressing his wand to her neck. The motion startles Maya, and she stumbles back, grabbing onto a nearby chair for balance. Suddenly, she notices his proximity, their breaths mingling with how close they are, "I see right through you, Rajesh."
"Maybe you're not as perceptive as you think, Malfoy." She scoffs, but the sound is hollow. Draco smirks, knowing he has the upper hand, and the irritation spikes through her like a knife, "Oh, shut up."
"Make me." He raises a cocky eyebrow, and the air around them crackles with an energy that makes goosebumps prickle on the back of Maya's neck. At this distance, their noses are almost touching, and she can feel the warmth of his hands brushing her sides. Fuck.
There's a breath where their challenging gazes meet, and Draco's lips part. The room suddenly feels too small, too miniscule to contain the simmering air between them. But as sapphire stares back at silver, the cogs in Maya's head begin to turn once more, and just as he leans in, an idea pops into, "Maybe I will."
She smiles, as sweetly as she can, and dips her wand into the space between his neck and shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "Confringo".
The thud of Draco's body hitting the floor makes heads turn in their direction. She keeps her wand trained on him as Draco's face changes from shock to utter indignation, a slow smirk spreading across her face as Maya finally laughs, treading a bit closer, "Looks like my distraction worked."
"You cheated, " He pants, and the heaviness of his breaths make something warm pool inside her, "It doesn't count."
"The loser doesn't decide who wins, Malfoy." Maya drawls, leaning back against a chair.
"Who said this was a competition?" Draco scowls, raising an eyebrow.
She narrows her eyes, "Wasn't it always?"
Draco's eyes smolder with something she can't explain, and for a moment, Maya feels cold with realization. The words on the train were laced with deceit, a shaky half-truth that said everything and nothing all at once. She's tricked him, yet again, choosing to fight fire with fire instead of extinguishing the flames. But oddly, instead of the rage Maya expects to see, Draco's expression softens, the corner of his mouth curling up as his eyes glint with something like amusement. Almost as though he's the one with the upper hand.
The sound of Snape's body hitting the floor makes them both jump, and with shock, Maya turns to find Snape thrown over a desk, black robes tumbling around his feet as he scowls deeply at Harry, "Do you remember me telling you we are practising non-verbal spells, Potter?"
"Yes," says Harry, through gritted teeth, lowering his wand.
"Yes sir." Snape's lip curls as he corrects the younger boy.
"There’s no need to call me 'sir', Professor." Harry snaps, and the entire class lets out a collective gasp. Hermione and Ron look shocked, and Seamus snickers, immediately earning a withering glare from Snape.
"Detention, Saturday night, my office," snaps Snape. "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter, not even the Chosen One. Class is over. " He mutters the last bit over his shoulder as he grabs the bag from his desk, stalking out of the room as his dark robes billow behind him.
‘That was brilliant, Harry!’ chortles Ron, once they're safely on their way to break a short while later.
"You really shouldn’t have said it," says Hermione, frowning at Ron, "What made you?"
"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn’t notice!" fumes Harry, "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn’t he use another guinea pig for a change? What’s Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence? Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff –"
"Well," says Hermione, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."
"Like me?" Harry raises a confused eyebrow.
"Yes, when you were telling us what it’s like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn’t just memorising a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts – well, wasn’t that what Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick-thinking?" She rambles, and Harry looks somewhere between shocked and impressed at her words.
"I think Maya's probably the only one who understood that today, " Clary pipes up. There's a knowing look in her eyes as she glances over at Maya, "During her duel with Malfoy."
"Oh, yeah." Ron grins, "Did you see when he fell on his arse? Magnificent."
"The spellwork was flawless." Hermione sighs, looking almost wistful, "And fast, too."
"You're almost a natural." Harry claps her on the shoulder, "Makes me wonder if you've had some practice."
The question isn't intrusive in Harry's words, but before Maya can open her mouth to deflect, Clary saves her, "Being a warlock was probably an advantage. They're very inventive, y'know."
"True.." Hermione muses, softly, "But still, you were pretty impressive today, Maya."
"I guess." Maya shrugs. She spots Malfoy again as they walk past the library, lounging against a bookshelf with Zabini next to him. Their voices are low and hushed, and before she can stop herself, Maya catches his eye. There's a moment where neither of them dare to look away, and Maya swears she sees a hint of pride in his eyes. But before she can dwell on it, his face hardens again with the same immovable mask from before, and they walk past him. Zabini gives her a strange look, and the implications of his expression cause an uneasy feeling to sink into her stomach.
"Maya?" Clary frowns, "You alright."
"Yeah." Maya blinks a few times, swallowing sharply as her mind blurs with confusion, "I'm fine"
‘“Stanley Shunpike, conductor on the popular wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr Shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home …” Ron's expression turns from confusion to disbelief as he reads out from the newspaper in his hands.
"Stan Shunpike, a Death Eater?" says Harry, with an astonished frown. "No way!"
"He might have been put under the Imperius Curse," says Ron reasonably. "You never can tell."
"It doesn’t look like it," says Hermione, snatching the newspaper out of his hands as she scans the text herself. "It says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters’ secret plans in a pub." She looks up with a troubled expression on her face. "If he was under the Imperius Curse, he’d hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?"
"It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did," says Ron. "Isn’t he the one who claimed he was going to become Minister for Magic when he was trying to chat up those Veela?"
"Yeah, that’s him," says Harry, "I dunno what they’re playing at, taking Stan seriously."
'They probably want to look as though they’re doing something," says Hermione, frowning. "People are terrified – you know the Patil twins’ parents want them to go home? And Eloise Midgeon has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night."
"What?" Clary looks up sharply from her book, and Maya sees her face go white with fear.
Ron goggles at Hermione. "But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We’ve got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we’ve got Dumbledore!"
"I don’t think we’ve got him all the time," says Hermione very quietly, glancing towards the staff table over the top of the Prophet. An empty chair rests in Dumbledore's usual place, and Maya suddenly can't place if she's seen him recently whatsoever, "Haven’t you noticed? His seat’s been empty as often as Hagrid’s this past week."
"It's all looking serious, isn't it?" Ron mutters. None of them say anything, but Maya's mind flashes back to Herbology the day before. Hannah Bones had been pulled out of class just as they were brandishing their clippers in order to crop some gurdyroots. Everyone had been confused at first, but as the news of the Hufflepuff's mother being found dead had passed to them by a grave-looking Professor Sprout, the room had fallen silent. None of them have seen her since.
When they leave the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, Clary pulls Maya aside, her pale face tense with worry, "We're safe here, right?"
"What?" The question completely catches Maya off guard, and she stutters to form a response, "Of course we are."
"Really?" Clary chews her lip with worry, "You're one hundred percent sure?"
"Look....the news often exaggerates things." Maya sighs. A feeling of dread starts to creep over her, and Maya's mouth suddenly feels dry, "Just because people are panicking doesn't mean that something's actually going to happen."
"You don't have to lie to make me feel better, Maya." Clary scoffs, and Maya feels a flame of annoyance burn through her, "That's the Institute's job."
"Yeah, well I can't predict the future, Fray." Maya snaps, and immediately regrets it at the slight flinch in Clary's posture. She closes her eyes, forcing herself to take a deep breath before continuing, "Even if things do get worse, I'm not going to let anything happen to you."
"Because that's your job?" Clary crosses her arms defensively over her chest.
"Because I'm your friend, you idiot." Maya smacks the back of her head, "Does it look like I'm getting paid enough to consider this an actual occupation?"
"And here I thought the pleasure of my company would be enough, " Clary rolls her eyes, but there's a glimmer of humor in her expression. But then she seems to recognize something in her periphery, and nods to Maya's side, "Five-o-clock."
"Hi." Maya's expression changes from one of humor to surprise as none other than Theodore Nott stands before her. There's a rueful smile on his face as he awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, "Maya, right? i'm Theo. Theo Nott. We met at the party last year."
"Party — oh!" Maya's cheeks burn with the embarrassment at the memory of her fifteenth birthday, and she has to force herself not to cringe at the hazy memory of her inebriated flirting, "Yeah...that night."
"I saw your duel against Draco today." He smirks, and Maya notices the dimples in his cheeks that immediately spring to life, "You're a hell of a fighter, huh?"
"So I've been told." Maya feels a hint of suspicion linger within her, and narrows her eyes at him, "What about it?"
"Whoa! Relax." Theodore holds his hands out in surrender, "I'm just making conversation. Y'know — " He laughs, "I've been friends with Draco since we were in nappies, and I've never seen him humbled so fast. You're something special, Rajesh. I've wanted to get to know you for a while, actually, but I've always been a bit too intimidated to approach you."
"Intimidated?" Maya raises an eyebrow in surprise, "How?"
"Just things I've heard flying around." Theodore waves his hand dimissively, and Maya's skin prickles with the reminders of the rumors from last year. But just as she's about to open her mouth and utter something along the lines of 'Fuck off' to his face, he starts talking again, "I want to ask you something, actually."
"Which is?" Maya frowns.
"There's a Slytherin party happening in the Dungeons on Friday." Theodore's green eyes light up with hope, and Maya's surprised at how genuine he looks, "Usual back to school rager. We usually keep it snakes-only, but since there's fewer people this year, other houses are welcome too. I think it would be fun if you were there."
"I don't know, Nott." A feeling of doubt creeps into Maya's head at his seemingly innocent proposition. Malfoy's friend group has always seemed duplicitious to her, a bunch of power-hungry, ambitious motherfuckers that would cut each other down ruthlessly if it weren't for the camaraderie of their wealth pulling them together. Someone as innocent-looking as Nott doesn't fit into the picture, "Parties aren't really my thing."
"I figured as much, " Nott sighs, softly, and the disappointment in his expression makes something in Maya soften, "The offer's still there, though."
"I'll think about it, " Maya blurts out, before she can stop herself. There's something disarming about Theodore Nott, an aura she can't quite explain. Maybe it's the soft waves of his coffee-coloured hair, or the way his delicate bone structure makes him look startlingly, almost femininely handsome. Before she can think even further, Maya flashes him a smile, and he perks up again.
"Better than nothing," He sighs, dreamily, and Maya resists the urge to laugh at his dramatics, "Let me know if you change your mind, yeah?"
"He's . . . . . interesting." Clary mutters, a few moments after the tall Slytherin walks off, "Party sounds fun, though."
"Don't even think about it." Maya snaps, exasperated, "Even in the unlikely scenario that I do end up going, you are not coming anywhere near me."
"Really?" Clary bats her eyes girlishly at Maya, nudging her with her own shoulder, "You're sure I can't ...... change your mind?"
"Oh, shut it." For the millionth time that day, Maya resists the urge to scream into the sky.
lmao it really took me until midnight to write this. too sleepy for a full a/n so bye gays, girlies and goats.
- xoxo,
disha
Chapter 62: Chapter 62
Chapter Text
September 2016
"IS THIS SUPPOSED TO TAKE THIS LONG?" Luna's suspicious voice floats up from between her knees.
"Not if you don't move every five freaking seconds, " Diana huffs, fingering the soft, wavy strands of the other girl's hair. The french braided pattern weaves across her head like a white-blonde waterfall, falling down her other shoulder in a single, glossy plait. Or at least, it was — until Luna shifts yet again and causes the braid to slip out of Diana's hands entirely. Diana groans in frustration, placing her head in her hands yet again, "What did I just say?"
"Not to move." Luna's ears turn red.
"And what did you do?" Diana raises a presumptuous eyebrow.
"Move." Luna lets out a frustrated breath, "My back hurts from sitting on the floor."
"Screw the braid, " Diana groans, falling back on her bed. Luna clambers over next to her on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows next to Diana. The Hufflepuff sighs, placing her face in her hands, "I don't have the attention span for this."
"You don't have the attention span for most things." Luna huffs, a frustrated pout on her lips.
Diana smacks her arm with indignation, "Hey! Rude."
"Am I wrong?" Luna raises a knowing eyebrow.
"I do pay attention to important things." Diana grumbles, running a hand through her hair.
"Like me, yes." Luna smirks, and Diana's cheeks redden as she presses her lips together.
"Shut up." She mumbles under her breath, "You're not a thing."
"Well, philosophy says that everything tangible is a thing, so I digress—" Luna starts, loftily.
"Was this a very elaborate attempt to get me to compliment you?" Diana raises a suspicious eyebrow.
"Did it work?" Luna's eyes turn round with faux-innocence.
"And here we thought that I was supposed to be the Slytherin." Diana tuts, feigning disapproval, "I've been a bad influence on you, Lovegood."
"Or maybe you've just fallen under my spell." Luna wiggles her fingers suggestively.
Diana rolls her eyes, "As if you would ever hex me."
"Who said anything about hexes?" Luna waves her hands over her face, dramatically fluttering her eyelashes, "Maybe I bewitched you with my spellbinding beauty."
"How incredibly humble of you, " Diana's voice drips with sarcasm.
"You know, Diana, for someone who claims not to be entranced by me, you sure spend a lot of time around me." Luna raises an accusing eyebrow, "Like, all of this summer, we've been joined at the hip."
"Are you complaining?" Diana smirks.
"Obviously not." Now it's Luna's turn to blush as Diana sighs, "You're not bad company, with your multicolored hair, your amazing cooking skills— hey! — " Luna ducks as Diana aims a pillow at her head, " — and of course, your endless bank account."
"I knew it!" Diana groans, falling onto the bed as she clutches her heart in fake despair, "How could you? You were after gold this entire time."
"There there." Luna pats her shoulder, "It's not like you'll miss any."
"Gold-digger, " Diana huffs, feigning frustration, "I should've known that you weren't just looking for Flitterblooms."
"Oh you poor child." Luna smiles, sweetly, "Flitterblooms don't even exist."
"What?!" Diana shrieks, immediately propping herself up on her elbows, "You lied to me?!"
"Obviously." Luna scoffs, "I wasn't going to tell a stranger what was actually in those bottles."
"What was in them?" A sense of apprehension takes over her expression.
"Nothing." Luna suddenly looks very interested in the ceiling above them.
"Luna—" Diana warns, "I swear to God—"
"Glitter." Luna interrupts her, rolling her eyes, "I sold some body glitter on the side for extra gold. Umbridge banned it temporarily because it was a nuisance and well.....lack of supply creates demand....so you could say the black market just started itself."
"So you're telling me—" Diana sounds out the words slowly, "That I've been living with a gold digger, possible criminal and master seductress for the past few months?"
"Hey, nothing illegal happened." Luna holds up her hands in defense.
Diana groans, burying her face in the pillow beneath her. There's a few moments where she sighs, pausing for dramatic effect. Then Diana raises her head again, shaking her streaked hair out of her face before she gives Luna a fearful look, "You scare me."
"And you love me for it." Luna smiles. She reaches out to brush a strand of purple hair away from Diana's face and even as her fingertips just barely graze her cheekbone, Diana can feel the warmth laced in her touch.
The sunlight shifts and splinters through the blinds, and for a second, Luna's argentine eyes are lit up with sparks of silver. It's as if her soul is suddenly shining through her skin. Alive, bright and magical. Just for a moment, three words cross her mind. Words that Diana's never dared to say before. But then, something within her draws back, retreating back into that dark corner she'd buried it in previously. An entirely different phrase leaves her lips, "Don't flatter yourself."
There's a moment in which both of their breaths hitch, a moment where a hint of vulnerability crosses Luna's expression as she looks at Diana with surprise etched all over her features. Then, Luna drags her arms around Diana's neck before resting her head on the taller girl's shoulder, "You're cute when you're argumentative."
"Oh, for the love of god—" Diana sputters, heat creeping over her cheeks as Luna giggles. She groans in frustration, placing her hands over her face, "You can't say things like that and expect me not to blush."
"I say things like that because you blush." Luna snickers, playfully elbowing Diana in the ribs.
"I hate you, " Diana groans, staring up at the ceiling in exasperation.
"You two are.....cozy." Clary's voice floats over from the other side of the room, and Diana looks up in shock to find her and Maya paused in the doorway, their eyes scrutinizing Luna's snuggled up figure next to Diana.
"When did you two come in?" Diana immediately sits up, almost throwing Luna off of her at the force with she rises. The Ravenclaw manages to re-orient herself in time, immediately straightening her clothes as she avoids the eyes of the Gryffindors.
"Just now, " The corner of Maya's mouth turns up as she examines the two blondes before her, "But you can leave if we were....interrupting something."
"We were just braiding hair, " Luna points to the now askew braid gracing her hair.
"Horizontally?" Clary raises a suspicious eyebrow.
"It's the new trend." Diana nods, playing along.
Clary's mouth trembles, as if she's trying not to laugh, "You know, if you two are dating, you're doing a very bad job of hiding it."
"Clary!" Maya gasps, scandalized as she smacks the back of the redhead's head.
"What?" The redhead shrugs, unfazed, "We were all thinking it."
A pit of anxiety forms within Diana at Clary's words. Luna opens her mouth, giving her a concerned glance, "Actually—"
"We're not together." Diana blurts out the words before she can stop herself, "We're uh — we're just friends."
Something changes in Luna's expression as Maya glances between them with incredulity, "You sure about that?"
Diana pauses, her lips parted. There's a glimmer of hurt in Luna's eyes before she speaks, her voice catching very slightly, "Yeah, just friends." She clears her throat for a second, then grabs her satchel from the floor, "I'm going to head to Astronomy."
"Okay then..." Clary trails off as Luna starts out of the room before any of them can blink, each retreating footstep making Diana want to melt back into the bed. But oddly, she can't bring herself to follow the Ravenclaw, the anxious thrum of her heart only growing louder at the thought. The redhead turns back to Diana, her face scrunching in confusion, "Is everyone at this school cryptic, or is it just you guys?"
"Just us, unfortunately." There's a nagging feeling growing within her at the previous definition of their relationship, but Diana brushes it aside — as she always does — and turns the direction of the conversation in her best friend's direction, "So, Maya, I heard you got invited to Theo Nott's party?"
Maya groans, flopping onto her bed like a walrus as she lets out a frustrated groan, "Please don't remind me."
"You're going to abide by a few rules if you're coming with me." Maya clears her throat. The black charcoal slips slightly as she peers carefully at herself in the mirror, carefully dragging the pencil along her waterline as she blinks for a second.
"Wasn't I the one who talked you into going?" Clary scoffs, dragging the lip gloss applicator over her mouth as she pouts carefully in her compact mirror. The blue silk of her crop top shimmers in the low light of their room as she crosses her long legs over each other, though Maya doesn't miss the way Clary immediately shifts the hem of her black miniskirt further down her legs, "If anything, I should be getting rewarded with extra privileges."
"Rule number one — you're getting one drink. One." Maya states, completely ignoring her friend's earlier words, "I have no clue what your tolerance is, but you do not want to be shit-faced at your first Hogwarts party. And for obvious reasons, it has to be one I pour."
"Because men are horrible and the world is a nightmare." Maya doesn't miss the way Clary rolls her eyes at her words, "Understood."
"Rule number 2." Maya sighs, smoothing out the soft black waves that now reach her shoulders, "No wandering off. Stay where I can see you."
"I'm not going to go cave-exploring when I'm tipsy, Maya." Clary scoffs Maya resists the urge to groan in frustration, "I have some modicum of common sense. Next?"
"I highly doubt that. Rule number 3." Maya turns around, straightening the lacy hem of her black bralette, "We'll leave whenever one of us gets sick of the party. I don't fancy leaving you behind at three in the morning."
"Seems reasonable enough." Clary sighs. A hint of a smile curls up the corner of her mouth, "I doubt you'll be getting sick of anything soon, though."
"Oh, shut it." Maya rolls her eyes, "You're reading into things."
"He was so nervous." Clary giggles, "I didn't know you had that effect on men."
"I don't." Maya scoffs, "Theo was just being friendly."
"And I'm platinum blonde." Clary rolls her eyes as Maya sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, "If lovely Theodore was just platonic in his intentions, why are you scraping away the rest of your evening plans for a sudden invitation? You don't even do parties, remember?"
Irritation perks up inside Maya, and as she opens her mouth to retort, the same question confunds her. Why is she going to this party? Magnus had told them to lay low, to not attract unnecessary or unwanted attention to themselves in fear of their cover being blown. It's a fair ask, considering the havoc that would be wreaked upon them if the sudden resurgences of the past few months are revealed. But for some reason, tonight, Maya feels drawn to the idea of letting loose, if only for a few hours.
It's a risk — she knows it. Her fifteenth birthday is a reminder of what happens if Maya lets herself go completely off the rails. But this time, she's older and wiser, no longer shrouding herself in the naivety that no one poses a threat to her life. Risks are scary, but calculated ones are less so. And with the math she's done in her head thus far, the probability of something sinister happening to both of them if they stick to the ground rules is nearly zero.
Right?
"Maya?" Clary's confused tone brings her out of her haze. The redhead snaps her fingers in front of Maya's face, jolting the warlock back to reality, "Earth to Maya?"
"Let's just say I want a change." Maya clears her throat, her voice finally settling back to normal again, "We need to be normal teenagers at some point, even if it's only for a night."
"Normal?" Clary raises her eyebrows in skepticism, "Us? You think that's even possible?"
Maya smirks, excitement thrumming in her veins at the prospect of the night ahead, "With the right amount of tequila, why not?"
The smell of smoke emanates from around him as Draco takes a slow drag of his cigarette, letting the nicotine swirl in his breath for a few moments before blowing the white vapour out into the open air around him. The bass from the party booms in his ears, a catchy hit blasting through the radio Blaise has charmed to eardrum-shattering volume, and his temples sting, signalling the beginning of yet another tension headache.
Across the room, Adrian takes a deep sip of his whisky, confidently leaning back against the wall as Pansy snuggles up to his side. She's wearing a short, shimmery number that reflects the green lights set up around the room, twirling a strand of her short hair around her middle finger. For a second, her dark eyes flit to his own, a slow smirk playing at her lips as she casually runs her fingers up an unsuspecting Adrian's thigh. The gesture makes Draco resist a chuckle more than anything, though — Adrian immediately blushes like a schoolgirl, swatting her hand away as she pouts, the faux childishness in her expression making him roll his eyes.
"Was she always this annoying?" Daphne mutters, her blonde hair falling over Blaise's broad shoulder as she furrows her brows, "It seems like it's multiplied ever since Pansy shacked up with him."
"I don't think it's annoyance she's trying to elicit." Blaise smirks, looking over at him.
"Don't even start." Draco huffs, rolling his eyes, "You know, this is kind of your fault? You're the one who dragged me to this party."
"I did nothing." Blaise raises his hands in surrender, "Pansy making a fool of herself is completely out of my hands."
"Don't be so humble, Blaise." Theodore drawls, taking a deep drink of his bottle, "You love drama."
"Not when it reeks of nauseating desperation." Blaise scoffs.
"Theo would be familiar with that, though." Daphne purses her lips, glaring at the brunet Slytherin.
"Ouch." Theodore places a hand over his chest as he feigns hurt, "What gives, Daph?"
"What doesn't?" The blonde rolls her eyes, "Are you here for the entertainment or the possible entanglements?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Theo rolls his eyes before a smirk spreads across his face. He locks eyes with Draco, "Speaking of which, Malfoy. I've invited someone special to this affair."
"Special?" Draco raises an eyebrow, scoffing, "I'm sure we have different definitions of that. What, she's a quarter veela instead of a pureblood?"
"Half, actually." Theo's grin grows wider as he takes another sip of his butterbeer, "She's not like the rest of the crowd."
"Please don't tell me you invited a Hufflepuff to the party." Blaise groans, dramatically flopping back against the couch, "It'll ruin the vibe."
"He worked very hard on the mood, you know." Daphne pats her boyfriend's arm sympathetically as the corner of Draco's mouth turns up in amusement, "Paid galleons for the lights and everything."
"How adorable." Theo sighs, the sarcasm dripping from his tone, "Don't worry, I'm not daft enough to initiate her into our group or anything. Just wanted to .... shake things up ... for lack of a better word."
"The more you talk about this mystery girl, the more concerned I am about your taste in women." Daphne mutters, eyeing the tall Slytherin with apprehension.
"Yeah, you're building her up a lot." Blaise narrows his eyes, "Who exactly did you invite to talk up this big of a game?"
"You'll just have to find out when she turns up." Theo drawls, a satisfied smirk in place.
"I don't like that look." Draco narrows his eyes at his friend's expression, "It always means he's plotting something."
"Concerning you? Sure." The edge in Theo's tone is something Draco can't quite place, but it goes as quick at his came, replaced with surprise as he looks over his shoulder, "Speak of the devil."
As Theodore runs off into the crowd, Blaise's eyes flash with a hint of concern, "What just happened?"
"It's Theodore." Daphne sighs, defeatedly, "Have we ever expected anything he's done?"
"It's probably nothing." Draco scoffs, "He's just screwing with us again for a reaction."
"Oh...he wants a reaction, alright." Blaise's face changes to one of shock as he spots something in the distance.
"What?" Draco frowns, noticing his friend's sudden change in mood, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Mate, turn around." Daphne sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration.
"What are you all even on about—" Draco rolls his eyes, looking over his shoulder. His words falter as he catches sight of Theo leading a familiar figure back through the smoke around them, the warlock teetering on her high-heeled boots as she finally comes face-to-face with the three of them.
Fuck.
As soon as she stumbles into the room, the smoke swirls around her, and Maya coughs, her throat burning as she sniffles slightly, "Merlin, if I wanted my insides to shrivel from pollution, I would've just booked us a flight to Delhi."
"God, what are they even smoking in here?" Clary teeters on her heels next to her as she tries to bat the smoke away from her eyes, the pounding bass of the music around them reverberating in Maya's ears, "At least the music's decent."
"Didn't expect the Slytherins to have mundane tunes, " Maya muses, as the song fades out, "But what do you know? Maybe some of them are actually tolerable."
"I think there's someone who might subvert that notion." Clary cocks her head to the side, and Maya sees a tall figure weaving through the crowd, waving to her in a manner reminiscent of the very boy who invited her here.
The music speeds up as Theodore Nott walks into view, a bottle in his other hand. Up close, Maya can make out the faint hint of a gold chain glinting through the unbuttoned collar of his shirt, and Theodore runs a hand through his messy hair, the dimple in his left cheek popping up as the corner of his mouth turns up, "Nice timing, Rajesh. Decided to show up after all?"
"Wanted to see what the fuss was all about." Maya shrugs, maintaining the nonchalance in her expression. There's something about the way the green lights around them highlight the sharp hollows beneath his cheekbones that makes her bristle, stay on guard, "See if you were hyping up Slytherin ragers or actually telling the truth."
"And have we met your expectations?" He cocks up a brow playfully.
"Mmm, too early to judge." Maya scrunches her nose in fake annoyance.
Theo laughs, "Playing your cards, I see." For a second, his eyes scan her figure with an approving glint, "You clean up nice."
"Thank you." A hot, indignant blush rises up to Maya's cheeks as she fidgets with the hem of her black skater skirt, suddenly conscious of the skin bared by her lacy bralette (or "slutty crop top", as Izzy had referred to it), "You don't look bad either."
"I'll take the compliments I can get for now." Theo presses a hand to his chest as he feigns hurt, before placing a chaste hand on her elbow, "Shall we?"
"I think that's my cue to go find Diana." Clary pipes up, nodding to the Hufflepuff leaning against an armchair in the distance, "Yell if you need me, alright?"
"You sure you'll be alright alone?" Maya gives her a pointed look.
"What's the worst that could happen?" Clary just rolls her eyes, "Besides, I wouldn't want to interrupt you and your...company."
"I'll make sure no harm comes to her, Prewett." Theodore raises his hand near his head in a mock salute before grinning, "Enjoy your night."
"Eager to get me alone, aren't you?" Maya questions, as he pulls her through the crowd. Her hair starts to stand up on the back of her neck, a feeling of dread slowly slipping through her veins as the night feels darker than ever.
"Didn't know your mind was going in that direction, Rajesh." Even from afar, she can hear the smirk in his voice, and Maya's suddenly grateful for the darkness around them, her skirt swishing as she twists around a pair of fishnet-clad fifth-years, "But don't worry, my intentions are completely pure tonight."
"One could differ, you know." Maya quips, catching up to his side. Her head comes up barely just past his shoulder — even in five-inch heels — and she cranes her neck up to glance at him, a sly expression spreading across her face, "You could be plotting something."
"I'm not a schemer, Rajesh." Theo rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of humor in his expression, "That's Draco's job."
There's an edge to his tone that Maya can't quite place, and she opens her mouth for a second, faltering. But then a familiar voice clears their throat from a few feet away, and something in her freezes, "Fancy seeing you here, Rajesh."
Blaise Zabini clears his throat, his tone somewhere between standoffish and shocked. Next to him on the green couch, Daphne Greengrass gazes up at Maya with something akin to horror, her mouth half open as she looks frantically to her side — oh. Oh.
She might have forgotten one teensy little detail before showing up.
Draco's silver eyes stare back at her in bewilderment, the cigarette at his fingertips dropping to the floor as he chokes on a sip of his whiskey, "Rajesh."
"Malfoy." Maya manages to breathe out. She gives the blonde girl a curt nod, "Greengrass."
"Zabini." Daphne immediately looks up at the ceiling, as though the soft green lighting above them is of great interest to her.
"Nott." Blaise swallows, closing his eyes for a moment. He lets out a sharp exhale, the sound of his breath edged with irritation that makes annoyance bloom Maya's skin, "What is wrong with you?"
"What, couldn't figure it out?" Theodore raises an eyebrow, "I could not have been more obvious with the clues."
"So it's her, then." Daphne's eyes dart between them as she scrunches her nose, "Your mystery girl."
"Don't say it like that." Theodore scoffs.
"Well how exactly did you expect us to react to...." Draco's gaze sears into her as his eyes are drawn to her shoulder, and for a moment, Maya holds it. There's an unreadable expression that flits across his face, and Maya suddenly realizes that Theo has his arm wrapped around her, as casual as can be, "This."
"Be civil, guys." Theo chuckles, rolling his eyes at his friends' dramatics. His hand on her shoulder is chaste, yet the warmth seeps into her skin in an entirely new way as he guides her to sit down next to him, keeping a safe distance from Draco, "I'm not responsible for starting a new war."
"Bit of a tetchy comment to make, don't you think?" Daphne cuts in, glaring at the brunet Slytherin.
"I'm sorry.... what's going on?" Maya sputters, confused.
"Nothing." Blaise replies, smoothly, "Just Theo being a little shit, as usual."
"Alright." The words come out uneasy, and Maya suddenly feels a pit form in her stomach, a certain type of anxiety running through her veins that she can't describe. She clears her throat softly, "Actually, I think I should go get a drink."
"I'll grab it myself. Long overdue for another one, anyway." Theo looks at her, quizzically, "Butterbeer?"
"Pumpkin juice, actually. Alcohol and I don't mix." Maya laughs, nervously, "And it's fine, I'll take care of it."
"No, it's not a bother." Theo waves her off, dismissively, "It'll take five minutes, Rajesh."
"Nott, seriously, I'd rather do it myself." Maya clears her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.
"I insist." Theo chuckles.
"I'd rather just get my own drink." Maya tries to keep her tone casual, but there's a hard edge all the same. The air around them suddenly thickens, and a hint of suspicion crosses her mind at his insistence.
"I'm not going to poison it, if that's what you're implying." Theo scoffs. Maya can tell that it's meant to come out playful, but there's an arrogance in his tone that irks her.
"I never said you would." She edges slightly away from me, suddenly feeling repelled by the energy around them.
"You know that I'm not that type of guy, right?" Theo's eyes narrow, but this time his tone is concerned, "I would never do that to anyone, Rajesh."
"I know, I just—" Maya sighs, faltering. There's a lump in her throat that won't go away, and the uncomfortable silence around them only increases the piercing sense of exclusion she feels, "Never mind."
"I'll uh — see if they have a bottle that's still cold." Theo's hand awkwardly pats her shoulder before he shuffles away, disappearing into the crowd once more.
"We'll go get drinks as well, then." Blaise clears his throat, softly, getting up from the couch, "Come on, Daph."
Maya buries her face in her hands as their footsteps fade away, letting out a long breath of air that seems to have been compressed in her chest all along. The music pounds away louder than ever as she exhales, softly, leaning back against the couch as she closes her eyes. There's an ever-present headache throbbing at her temples, a pain she can't quite describe but feels acutely all the same. Then, Maya feels a certain gaze wash over her once more, and she opens her eyes to find Draco quickly looking away from her, taking another deep drag of his cigarette as the crowd dances on in front of them.
"Don't even start, Malfoy." Maya scoffs, rolling her eyes as she sits up straighter on the couch, crossing her legs over each other as she straightens her skirt.
"I didn't say anything, Rajesh." He replies, ice woven throughout his tone. The green light encapsulates the sharp line of his jaw, and Maya notices the momentary clench of the muscle before Draco coughs, raising his fist up to cover his mouth.
"Since when do you smoke?" She scoffs, raising an eyebrow, "I didn't take you for someone who liked charring their lungs."
"Since when are you my mother?" Draco rolls his eyes, but his tone is more annoyed than playful.
It causes Maya to bristle for a second, snapping, "Who shoved a wand up your ass today?"
"The proverbial fates." His tone drips with sarcasm and condescension, and Maya resists a scoff at how pretentious he sounds, "Luck's not in my favor, clearly."
"I don't know how you're managing to make even less sense today, but I guess nicotine affects us all in different ways." Maya scoffs. A strand of dark hair brushes her elbow, and she twists it with a fingertip, something coiling tighter inside of her as Draco's eyes glaze over the tiny gesture.
"Well you're a smartass even without it, so I guess you have that going for you, Rajesh." Draco drawls, slowly.
Maya raises an eyebrow, "Is that your deluded way of complimenting me?"
"Don't flatter yourself." A hint of a smirk curls the corner of his mouth.
"Yeah, well your friend's already doing enough of that for both of us." Maya sighs, leaning against the couch.
"Interesting choice." There's something that tightens in his tone, "Choosing you of all people, to invite."
Something runs cold in Maya's veins, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." Draco's tone is nonchalant, "Just pondering."
"If you don't think I belong here, you can just say that." Maya narrows her eyes at him.
"Don't get your wand in a knot, Rajesh." Draco rolls his eyes, and it makes something inside her twist in anger, "I just think it's weird for him to invite a Gryffindor."
"Diana's a Hufflepuff. Clary's also a Gryffindor. Hell, Chang's a Ravenclaw." Maya gestures to the black-haired girl sipping a Gillywater in the corner, "Why don't you have a problem with them being here?"
"Stop trying to create a problem where there isn't one, Rajesh." He scoffs.
"Where there isn't one?" Maya laughs, coldly, "Oh, that's rich."
"You Gryffindors are real chaos-seekers, aren't you?" He scoffs, "If there aren't already enough issues for you all to go fix, you come up with your own."
"Oh, please." Maya scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, "You know, for someone who claims not to 'have a problem' with me, you definitely have a knack for making all our interactions unnecessarily complicated."
"I wonder why that might be." Draco's eyes meet hers, and for once, she sees the mirth in them. A smirk spreads across his face, "Think about me a lot, do you?"
"Oh, every minute of every day." The dry words leave her lips as Maya smiles as sweetly as she can, putting on a high falsetto, "Never mind, actually. That's Parkinson's job, isn't it?"
"Shut up." Draco pales, resolutely ignoring her as he suddenly seems very interested in the ceiling.
"You probably like the attention." Maya sighs, looking out at the crowd, "It feeds your massive ego."
"The only one out of the two of us that seems to like attention is you, Rajesh." Draco's tone is amused, "You've been annoying me for the past few minutes out of your own free will."
"See? Giant ego." Maya points to him as he rolls his eyes, "Not everything is about you, you know."
"I'm not the one who started this." Draco shrugs, innocently.
"You're insufferable." Maya scoffs.
"And yet, you're still here." Draco takes another sip from his glass, sighing as he knocks back some whiskey, "Actions speak louder than words, Rajesh."
"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" There's a hint of venom laced into her tone. Something about tonight's made her patience run thin, some gear grind down in her brain, and Maya realizes that she suddenly has very little resolve left to give.
"And the Gryffindor talent strikes again!" Draco raises his glass in a mock-toast, "Honestly, you're just embarassing yourself at this point."
There's something in his tone that stings, hits some nerve within Maya that she didn't know existed. Her patience runs out, "Fuck this, I'm finding Clary." She snaps, storming off of the couch, "I don't have time for your bullshit tonight."
"As if you ever do." He scoffs, and Maya doesn't dare to look back as she pushes through the crowd once more, her eyes searching for a familiar redhead.
yes this isn't my best work and yes it's also 1am where i live. ended up shortening this in order to be nice to myself as well as y'all. have fun reading and comment what you thought of the chap <3
- be safe and touch grass,
disha
Chapter 63: Chapter 63
Chapter Text
September 2016
THE WORLD SUDDENLY COMES ALIGHT AS MAYA FEELS A PAIR OF HANDS violently rattling her shoulders, "Maya?! Hello?!"
Something heavy droops behind her eyes, a deep grogginess she can't shake. Maya gasps, deeply sucking in air as she coughs, hacking. The dryness in her mouth is searing, and she struggles to peel her eyes open, croaking out a barely audible, "W-what?"
"Where the fuck have you been?!" Clary's angry tone cuts through the silence around them, an annoyed yell that seems to reverbrate throughout the room. Maya winces, flinching away from the sound. Her head feels like someone's whacked it with the back end of a broom and she stirs, slightly, her limbs almost lead-locked to the soft covers beneath her, "I've been looking for you everywhere!"
"Argh..." Maya groans, hacking forth a cough once more. The air is unnaturally thick as she wheezes, her chest heaving before slumping onto her side, curling back into the pillow at her side, "Fuck....I can't...."
"God, you're plastered." Clary scoffs. Maya feels a cool, small hand pressed to her cheeks and chin before drawing back, "And warm as hell. Jesus, how much did you drink?!"
"Drink?" The word feels foreign to her own ears as her head sways, nausea rising within her. Maya slurs, softly, burying her face back into the pillow, "Huh?"
"Fuck, do you even know what's going on at this point?" Clary sighs, frustrated and Maya's head spins as she groans into the pillow. There's a deep, sore sense of exhaustion settled deep into her bones, and she hisses, slowly untangling her legs, "Wait a second."
Clary's footsteps fade away, and every movement feels like she's being crucio-d as Maya slowly moves, whimpering at the searing pain in her muscles as she drags herself up by her elbows. Then, Clary's arms gently pull her up the rest of the way, carefully sitting her up against the headboard before pressing a glass of water to her lips, "Drink up first. You're probably dehydrated as hell."
Little by little, Maya manages small sips of water, and the dryness coating her mouth dissipates slightly, causing a sigh of relief to escape her lips, "Fuck." She eventually pushes Clary's hand away, panting as she draws her knees up to her chest before resting her head on them. A long exhale escapes her lips as she tries to grab her bearings, "What-what's going on?"
"What do you think?" Clary laughs, though the irritation in her tone is palpable, "One minute, you're dancing with Diana and I. The next, you disappear to get some air and I can't find you anywhere. Then, I find you passed out on in our dorm completely out of it at four in the morning after scouring the castle-"
"Okay, stop...stop." Maya croaks out, groaning as she rests her head against the headboard behind her, leaning back. She sighs, softly, weakly reaching up with one hand to brush some hair out of her face, "I'm not....awake enough for this."
"What the fuck happened?" Diana's voice suddenly booms into the room, the sound of the door flying open on it's hinges making Maya wince, "What?! She was here all along?!"
"Don't know how she managed to get back, even." Clary mutters, "Maya's so drunk."
"I'm not drunk." Maya groans out, her head spinning again, "I didn't - I didn't have anything."
"Uh huh." Sarcasm drips from Diana's tone as Maya finally manages to open her eyes. Clary's curled into the bed next to her, and the faint outline of the Hufflepuff's tall body is visible as she closes the door, the moonlight streaming in from the windows, "That's why you're hungover as hell?"
"I'm not-" Maya coughs, hacking again as Clary pats her back, "I'm not hungover."
"Sure." Diana rolls her eyes as Maya's own water, "And I'm a goody two-shoes."
"Pumpkin juice." Maya hisses, as Clary hands her the rest of the water. She gulps it down despite the redhead's sounds of protest. The room seems to still around her, "That's all I had. Look-" Maya fumbles around on their nightstand, her fingers eventually catching around a plastic bottle. She feebly tosses it over to Diana, slumping back down onto the bed with exertion, "I feel like hell."
"You look it too." Clary's tone turns to one of concern as she slowly slips a pillow beneath Maya's head, "Damn, your hair's a bird's nest."
"Fuck off." Maya groans, "Look, I'm sorry for whatever happened....but I can't think right now. I just ..... can we deal with this in the morning?"
"Do you think we're insane?!" Diana mutters, shocked, "You come back from god knows where, and you just want to sleep it off?"
"Diana, I'm literally going to puke all over you if you make me talk any more." Maya snaps, coughing again as she covers her hand with her mouth.
Her eyes drift shut again, and she hears Clary sigh, "Maybe we should let her."
"You too, Prewett?!" The Hufflepuff's tone of voice is incredulous.
"Look, talking to her now isn't going to accomplish anything." Clary exhales, the frustration palpable in her tone, "Maya's very out of it. If we let her sleep off her hangover, she might remember something in the morning."
There's a tense silence between them, a disdain palpable enough that even Maya, in her half-asleep state, can feel Diana's annoyance at Clary's reluctance. Then, just before she falls back into that uneasy, haze-like slumber, Maya hears Diana sigh, "Alright. If you insist, then."
The last thing she feels before falling asleep is the covers thrown over her before darkness takes over again.
It feels like an eternity before she wakes up again. By the time Maya finally regains consciousness, sunlight streams in through the white curtains in their dorm. Her brain feels like it's filled with smoke, the red and gold around her a blurry vision of Gryffindor pride. However, as the room finally stills, Maya's eyes open just enough to flit to the clock beside her bed and she groans as the time reads half past eleven.
Fuck.
Just then, the door opens, and Maya shifts, slightly, pulling herself up to a sitting position as she groans, softly, "Who is it?"
"Your mother." Clary's sardonic tone lifts up her mood slightly as she sets a plate down on the nightstand. Diana follows soon after, holding a cup of dark, black coffee in one hand that fills the air with a rich aroma of chicory, and a purple potion in the other, plopping down on the bed next to her, "How're you feeling, sleepyhead?"
"Ugh." Maya groans, turning her face in her hands. Her voice comes out muffled, though a little less dry and hoarse than a few hours ago, "Like someone threw my brain in a blender."
"Figured as much." Diana mutters, looking at her with concern. There's something else in the Hufflepuff's gaze, a worried glint she can't quite describe as Diana presses her hand to Maya's cheeks and forehead, "Still feverish, huh?"
"Among other things." Maya coughs, hacking as she brushes her hair back from her face. She grabs a hair tie from her mess of a nightstand, wincing at the stretch in her arms as she manages to tie her hair back into a god-awful knot. It's then that she notices the egg and cheese bagel on her nightstand, and something in her heart warms, "You two brought me breakfast?"
"We figured you'd feel a bit better after eating something." Clary pats her shoulder sympathetically, "Maybe you'll remember what happened once you get some food in you."
Maya opens her mouth to protest, but the look on both their faces immediately has her fighting back her words. She sighs, grabbing her bagel from the nightstand. For a few moments, they're in an uncomfortable silence, the soft sounds of Maya's chewing filling the room as she fills her stomach to get rid of the supposed last dregs of alcohol. Then, as her head starts to clear, the anxiety of the present seconds starts to set in, and she sighs, taking a sip of her coffee and wincing at the bitter taste, "Guys....what happened last night?"
Clary and Diana give each other a knowing look before the latter answers, "Well....we were hoping you might be able to tell us that."
"What do you mean?" Maya sputters, "I-I don't understand."
"What's the last thing you remember?" Clary sighs, gently placing her own hand over Maya's, "Think carefully."
"I just..." Maya sighs. Her mind races through the past few hours, but they all mesh and blur together like colors on a marbled canvas. There's faint echoes of times spent on the dance floor, the sound of clicking heels and drunken laughter making her head buzz, but as soon as she grasps onto the dregs of the memories, they slip from her grasp. She groans in frustration, placing her head in her hands, "It's all such a blur. Like a haze, sort of. There's nothing clear in my head."
"Drink this." Diana hands her the purple potion from earlier, "Same one as last year."
"Last year?" Clary gives Diana a questioning look.
"Fifteenth birthday." Maya clarifies, sighing in distaste at the memory of the events from before, "Got way too plastered and did some questionable things which I regretted very much in the morning."
"Seems like history's repeating itself, then." Clary sighs, nudging her, "Drink up."
The taste is absolutely foul and Maya chokes almost immediately as the liquid hits her tongue. It's a scalding mixture of bitter herbs, sour citrus and an ashy texture that feels like sandpaper against her mouth. But as unpalatable as it is, Maya forces herself to swallow the entire thing, and a few exhausting, taste-bud atrophy-inducing moments later, she hands the bottle back to Diana, coughing, "Dear god, it's still revolting."
"A necessary sacrifice, though." Diana sighs. There's a few anxious moments where they wait, a few where Maya closes her eyes as the disjointed pieces slowly dance around each other, never quite falling into place, "Got anything?"
"I think I'm getting there." Maya sighs, putting her head in her hands, "Just give me a few seconds." One by one, the haze starts to clear further, and the broken-up pieces morph into something substantial.
Storming off the couch from Draco Malfoy, refusing to look back as the anger burns boiling hot in her veins. She refuses to acknowledge his glare burning holes between her shoulder blades, instead heading straight for Diana's tall frame on the dance floor. He can go fuck himself for all she cares.
Giggling, dancing recklessly as Clary takes a shot in front of them, almost tripping on her platforms before Maya catches her by the arm. Then, Theo comes back with a cold bottle of pumpkin juice, slipping it into her hand as he makes a half-hearted excuse about his quidditch duties needing to be taken care of quickly. She forces a sweet smile and watches him stride out with feigned purpose, then immediately runs a finger below the cap to check if the seal is intact. It is.
Her head's spinning from the twirling she's done, and Maya bumps into Diana, the taller girl thankfully draping an arm around her shoulder as the music switches to a slower beat. The dull pounding in her head intensifies, almost in tune with the music, and bile reels in the back of her throat. Luckily, she places a hand over her mouth in time, and as Clary comes back, handing a bright blue drink to Diana, Maya excuses herself, muttering something about fresh air as she stumbles out, her heels dragging loudly against the cobblestones.
A sudden sound makes her stir on the covers. She feels like she's been hit with a truck and run over with twenty more. Clary and Diana fuss over her, but their voices blur into one loud cacophony that feels like sandpaper to her overstimulated senses. She finally convinces them to let her sleep it off, but a deep anxiety settles into her bones just before the haze pulls her under again, a feeling that something's been misplaced, even though she has no idea what it is.
Well, now she does.
It's as if there's a void between the time she left the party and the time she woke up in her bed, a glaring gap that no matter how hard Maya tries, she can't recollect. As though the memory has been cut and stitched back together, the click of her heels walking out almost synchronised with the click of the room light as she began to stir in her bed. No matter how hard Maya tries to scrape together bits, the stitches hold tight, and a tight feeling of panic washes over her, her breath picking up speed.
What the fuck?!
"What?" Diana's face grows concerned at Maya's sudden paleness, "What happened? What do you remember?"
"Nothing." Maya looks up, aghast, "I left because I was feeling sick and then I just .... woke up."
"Do you remember what happened in between?" Clary raises a shocked eyebrow.
"No-I, um-" Maya stammers, trying to grab her bearings, "I told you, there's nothing. One minute I was leaving, and then the other, I just woke up."
"What the fuck?!" Diana sputters, clapping her hand over her mouth, "That's insane! What did you even drink?!"
"Nothing!" Maya gasps, "Diana, I swear, all I had was a bottle of pumpkin juice. Look!" She gestures to the corner of the room, where said bottle lies on the floor, "I was the only sober one out of all of us that night."
"Was this open when you got it?." Diana immediately summons the bottle to her side, fingers skimming over the label, "Do you think it could've been tampered with?"
"By Theo? God no." Maya scoffs, "I checked for the seal, it was intact when he handed it for me. He was rather insistent about not doing that, actually, said it was insane my mind even jumped to that conclusion."
"Are you sure?" Diana looks up at her with hesitation, "Do you clearly remember him handing it to you?"
"Yes, I do. He rushed off after to take care of some urgent stuff." Maya sighs, "If I had drunk anything else, I'd be smelling like tequila right now."
There's a careful silence in which Diana bites her lip, staring down at the bottle as if she's trying to wrap her head around it. A feeling of palpable terror settles in around Maya, a soft noose that's slowly starting to wrap around her neck. It feels as though something deep within her has just been exposed, a secret stolen. Something in her privacy feels violated, and slowly, she realizes with horror, if her drink was tampered with, the person could have had a very valuable motive.
Something concerning the redhead sitting right in front of her.
As if by magic, Clary's emerald eyes meet her own, and she coughs, softly, nudging Diana. "Look at the best-before date, though." Clary immediately points to a small inscription on the label, "It's two months expired. You could have gotten food poisoning."
"I was very nauseous." Maya sighs, "And super warm as well."
"Yeah, you were pretty feverish when I touched you." Diana mutters, "But the memory loss doesn't add up."
"It can happen in rare cases, actually. I've seen it." Clary interjects, quickly, "A friend of mine at Ilvermorny got food poisoning from a bad batch of this stuff at breakfast. He couldn't remember the entire day after, even though he was in class the entire time."
"Really?" Diana's eyes narrow. She looks at Clary with surprise, "That can happen?"
"Sure it can." Clary sighs, "I remember the school healer saying that it could be because of the preservatives they use to keep the juice from going off. That's why they have expiry dates, don't they?"
"I guess so." Diana sighs. She places the bottle back on Maya's nightstand, letting out a frustrated exhale, "I don't know, Maya. Something doesn't feel right about this to me."
"I agree with Clary, actually." Maya surprises herself by how quickly the words leave her lips. She clears her throat softly, "I mean, a lot of what I remember is super consistent with food poisoning. Fever, headaches, the never-ending urge to barf...y'know. It couldn't be that far off from the truth."
"You sure that's what happened?" Diana looks at her, quizzically, "You don't remember anything contradictory?"
"If I did, I'd tell you." Maya's smile is forced, "Thank you two for taking care of me, you really shouldn't have. But I think it's best if we don't make too big a deal out of this. Accidents happen, y'know."
"Yeah, actually." Clary sighs, her shoulders dropping. She shrugs, "Maybe moving on is for the best."
There's a moment where Diana's eyes narrow, a moment where she glances between the two of them with what feels like incredulity and maybe a hint of doubt. Then, she sighs, her posture relaxing, "If that's what you want, Maya."
Maya can feel Clary's questioning gaze on her as she places her other hand over Diana's. The next words that leave her mouth feel like they're coated in plastic, "Thank you."
The remnants of the weekend pass by remotely uneventfully. There's homework, cleaning, and some paperwork to be attended to, and somehow, miraculously, through a mixture of ibuprofen and coffee Maya feels nursed back to health by Sunday night. The headaches are gone, and when she can finally get down food without feeling the urge to expel it from her guts again, her alarm wakes her up along with a pit in her stomach. The sky is still faintly dark outside, not quite alight with the golden morning rays just yet, and the stillness around her is palpable.
Somehow, even though Maya would normally consider it peaceful, the silence right now feels suffocating.
Eventually, she manages to drag herself out of bed and on with her day, ignoring the dark backtrack that's been pushed down into the recesses of her mind. The three of them dress in silence, and the feeling of dread is palpable enough that Maya considers rotting away in their dormitory forever. Letting her friends leave and just sinking back into the covers, as the world turns on it's axis for yet another day. But as she glances at the calendar, Maya realizes that they have their first Potions lecture today with Slughorn, and her heart sinks, falling to her stomach like a stone sinking to the bottom of a bloody lake.
Continue her life as normal, they said. No matter what, appearances need to be maintained.
No matter what.
Breakfast feels like it drags on forever, and though Maya's appetite had slowly returned over the past two days, she finds it hard to swallow. It's gray out today, the sky dark and overcast like any English September, and yet somehow, Maya feels lit up in one of the strangest ways she could've imagined. As she quietly spoons oatmeal into her mouth, the warm mush not quite satisfying the craving for dosa and chutney that Nandini had instilled, Maya notices something different at the Slytherin table. A few of the green-clad fifth-years are whispering, their eyes darting to her and back as they finally notice her glance. Even though she can't hear them (and probably wouldn't want to, judging by the look of disgust she gets from one particular brunette), their words make something dark stir inside her, a mingled potion of hurt, anger, and most palpable of all — suspicion.
What could they know that she doesn't?
"Maya?" Hermione's voice snaps her out of her daze; She looks to her right to find the Gryffindor holding a goblet of orange juice, "You alright?"
"Yeah." Maya shakes off the feeling of being under a magnifying glass, blinking as she clears her throat, "I'm fine. Just a bit tired, is all."
"Diana told me you got sick over the weekend." Hermione nods in understanding, "There's always a flu that goes around this time of year. Extra vitamin C might help with your immunity, though." She hands the goblet toward Maya, "Want some?"
The yellow liquid sloshes around, and something turns in her stomach at the sight of it in Hermione's hands. Maya suddenly feels revolted by the citrusy smell, but she sighs, giving her friend a hesitant look, "I'll have to pass. I probably just need some fresh air to feel better."
The air in the dungeon, however, is filled with different vapours when they walk into Potions, Clary's textbook clutched to her chest as she gives Maya a wide-eyed look. An array of bubbling cauldrons covers the table in front of them, the potions varying from a light baby blue to a dark crimson red, in almost all shades of the rainbow. As they crowd around, a short, rotund man in a velvet waistcoat and black cloak (who Maya presumes to be Slughorn claps his hands, "Now then, I’ve prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of ’em, even if you haven’t made ’em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?" He indicated the cauldron nearest to the edge, which looks like it's filled with plain water.
"It’s Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth, "says Hermione, immediately, her hand shooting up.
"Very good, very good!" says Slughorn happily, "Now," he continues, pointing at the cauldron nearest a group of Ravenclaws, "This one here is pretty well-known … featured in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too … who can –?"
Hermione’s hand is fastest once more. ‘It’s Polyjuice Potion, sir."
"Excellent, excellent! Now, this one here … yes, my dear?" says Slughorn, now looking slightly bemused as Hermione’s hand punches the air again.
"It’s Amortentia!" She beams.
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," says Slughorn, who looks quite impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"
"It’s the most powerful love potion in the world!" says Hermione.
"Quite right! You recognised it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?" Slughorn fires back.
"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," says Hermione enthusiastically, ‘and it’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and –" She stops mid-sentence, turning slightly pink as Maya frowns.
‘May I ask your name, my dear?’ says Slughorn, ignoring Hermione’s embarrassment.
"Hermione Granger, sir."
"Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?" Something lights up in Slughorn's face at the thought.
"No, I don’t think so, sir. I’m Muggle-born, you see." Maya hears Pansy Parkinson whisper something to her taller Slytherin friend, and both of them snigger, but Slughorn looks utterly unfazed as he beams at Harry "Oho! “One of my best friends is Muggle-born and she’s the best in our year!” I’m assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"
"Yes, sir," says Harry, looking rather bashful.
‘Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger,’ says Slughorn genially, and from the corner of her eye, Maya sees the smirk slip right off of Pansy Parkinson's face, "Amortentia doesn’t really create love, of course. It is impossible to manufacture or imitate love. No, this will simply cause a powerful infatuation or obsession. It is probably the most dangerous and powerful potion in this room – oh yes,’ he says, nodding gravely at Malfoy and Nott, both of whom look quite sceptical; Maya looks away almost as soon as Draco's eyes flit to her. A soft scent reaches her nose from the pink cauldron of Amortientia, something along the lines of vanilla birthday cake, a soft, cinnamon-cardamom-black-tea type smell that reminds her of Nandini's chai, and a clean, slightly woodsy smell she can't quite place at that moment, "When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love … " Slughorn clears his throat, "And now, it is time for us to start work."
"Sir, you haven’t told us what’s in this one," says Ernie Macmillan, pointing at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn’s desk. The potion within splashes about merrily; the colour of molten gold, and large drops leap like goldfish above the surface, though not a single particle has spilled.
"Oho," says Slughorn again, "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turns, smiling, to look at Hermione, who's let out an audible gasp, "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"
"It’s liquid luck, " says Hermione excitedly. "It makes you lucky!" The whole class seems to sit up a little straighter. Maya sees Draco visibly shift behind her, his posture tense and alert as he gives Slughorn his full attention.
"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it’s a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," says Slughorn. ‘Desperately tricky to make, and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, as this has been, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed … at least until the effects wear off."
"Why don’t people drink it all the time, sir?" saya Terry Boot eagerly.
"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness and dangerous overconfidence," replies Slughorn, "Too much of a good thing, you know … highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally …"
"Have you ever taken it, sir?" asks Michael Corner with great interest.
"Twice in my life," says Slughorn. "Once when I was twenty-four, once when I was fifty-seven. Two tablespoonfuls taken with breakfast. Two perfect days." He gazes dreamily into the distance, though Maya can't tell whether it's for dramatic effect or not.
"And that," says Slughorn, apparently coming back to earth, ‘is what I shall be offering as a prize in this lesson. One tiny bottle of Felix Felicis. Enough for twelve hours’ luck. From dawn till dusk, you will be lucky in everything you attempt. Now, I must give you warning that Felix Felicis is a banned substance in organised competitions … sporting events, for instance, examinations or elections. So the winner is to use it on an ordinary day only … and watch how that ordinary day becomes extraordinary!"
"So." says Slughorn, suddenly brisk, "how are you to win my fabulous prize? Well, by turning to page ten of Advanced Potion-Making. We have a little over an hour left to us, which should be time for you to make a decent attempt at the Draught of Living Death. I know it is more complex than anything you have attempted before, and I do not expect a perfect potion from anybody. The person who does best, however, will win little Felix here. Off you go!"
Liquid Luck. Clary meets her eyes and even without speaking, Maya can both tell that they're thinking the same thing. If somehow, by a miracle, she manages to brew a perfect potion, having Felix Felicis on hand could be their contingency plan in case of an emergency. One that's starting to look a bit more likely, given the state of the world around them.
She has to win, and Maya has to do it well.
The first wrench is thrown into her plan just five minutes into their task.
Draco's stormy eyes glare back at hers as a palpable silence settles over Slytherin the table in front of her. The disorienting feeling from the rush of the other students bolting to their table earlier dissipates, replaced by a gnawing feeling of apprehension. Blaise Zabini keeps his eyes fixed on his cauldron, the dull thuds of his knife chopping up the valerian roots almost matching Maya's heartbeat as she glances down next to the blond. The last empty cauldron greets her with a taunt, and just when the eyes in the room shift to her, Daphne Greengrass spits out the words accusingly, "Well? Are you going to just stand there?"
They say pride is a sin, and Maya realizes, with resignation, that it's far from one she can afford right now. Not if it costs her a chance at preventing her friends's departing souls from leaving this earth too soon. So she begrudgingly drags herself to the cauldron, and starts arranging her ingredients out on the sparse space before her.
The first few ingredients go by relatively smoothy, the roots and leaves easy to prepare, though Maya wastes two minutes untangling the valerian before it behaves enough to be chopped up. The silence is uncomfortable, but it gives her time and space to carefully plan out the steps in her head. Ten minutes later, as blueish steam fills the room, Maya's pleased to find that her potion's turned a dark purple not too far off from the ideal stage in the book, though it's not quite the same as Hermione's smooth blackcurrant concoction.
Beads of sweat begin to form on her hairline as Maya looks at the textbook for the next step — chop up the small pile Sopophorus bean sitting on the very edge of her cutting board. She wipes her hand across her forehead before reaching for one, but no matter how hard she pushes in the tip of her knife, the bean doesn't puncture. Just as Maya changes her angle, bending down for a closer look, something light hits her directly in the face, and she jumps, startled as a radiating pain spreads through her cheek, "Fucking hell, what was that?"
"Language, Rajesh." Draco coughs, slightly pink in the face. He immediately grabs the rogue bean off of her cutting board, and Maya realizes, with hint of amusement clouding her annoyance, that his struggle with the bean resulted in it being catapulted towards her face, "My knife slipped."
"No matter, " She sighs, returning back to her potion. An idea suddenly pops into her head, and she suddenly remembers Magnus's golden words during the early days of potion tutoring — when in doubt, the knife goes down. "I'm sure it was because of your incredible finesse."
"What makes you think you're any better?" He scoffs, as Maya rolls her eyes. She presses the side of her knife against the bean experimentally, and victoriously, the juice flows out. Perfect.
"I'm not the one shooting my ingredients across the room." Maya drains the rest of the beans the same way, scraping the plentiful remnants of her juice directly into the pot. She sighs in relief as the color lightens, and steps back to let it simmer until some of the water cooks off, "That's a safety hazard, by the way."
"The only safety hazard in this room is your fire." Draco points to the roaring flames under her cauldron, stronger than those of her classmates, "I doubt you're going to win liquid luck if you shove burnt ash into Slughorn's face."
"Unlike you, Malfoy, I do respect the concept of time." Maya glances at the clock — five minutes past ten. She immediately adds two counterclockwise stirs to her potion, the steam making her blink as her eyes water, "You know you're actually supposed to make the potion and not just let it sit there?"
"Like you will when I manage to brew the best potion out of all of us?" He fires back, and the smugness in his tone makes her eyes roll as she stirs her potion yet again. A hint of panic starts to appear in her chest as it refuses to lighten further, nowhere near the pale lilac that the book calls for, "In that case, I'll do whatever I want."
"If that's your logic, I have no clue how you even managed to make it into this class." Maya scoffs, pressing her hand to her mouth, swearing under her breath, "Fuck."
"Some of us value quality over efficiency, Rajesh." Draco's blond hair falls over his forehead, and as he pushes it back, the 'M' on his signet ring glitters faintly in the sunlight, "And years of practice do make a difference. Just reading isn't enough these days."
"It's funny how far your assumptions are from the truth, " Maya struggles to keep her voice even as she looks around the room in panic, stirring her potion vigorously as it starts to bubble, "I've been brewing for half my life. Experience isn't the problem, attitude is. And yours is questionable at best."
"Potions are based on method, not emotion." Draco argues, narrowing his eyes at her, "Technique matters far more than whatever feelings the brewer has."
"Those feelings are just as important as technique if you want perfect results." Maya sighs, tucking a frizzy strand of hair behind her ear, "Keeping a clear head is key to brewing."
"And you're the best judge of that?" He raises a sardonic eyebrow, "No offense, Rajesh, but I've seen cats more composed than you."
"You're one to talk." Maya retorts, "I'm surprised you didn't end up in theatre, considering your dramatics are enough of a performance."
"I have no use for play-acting someone else's narratives, " Draco rolls his eyes, stirring his potion, "And pay attention, Rajesh. You missed a stir."
"Oh, fuck off." Maya swears under her breath as she manages catch herself in time, "Even distracted, I'll guarantee my work is better than yours, Malfoy."
"How so?" He quips.
"Women are better at multitasking. There have been studies proving it." Maya sighs, her eyes landing on Harry. She notices the strange way his ladle moves around the cauldron, her eyes narrowing in suspicion as she spots an unusual pattern.
"Statistics don't necessarily hold any merit in the real world, Rajesh." Draco sighs, "I hope your projections are as accurate as your results. Overconfidence leads to the worst downfalls."
"You would know all about that, wouldn't you?" Maya murmurs, copying Harry's pattern. Clockwise, counterclockwise, clockwise, counterclockwise—
"You know, maybe if you spent less time insulting me and more time actually looking at your potion, you'd have a better chance at winning this thing." Draco scoffs. Maya immediately glances at her potions, and to her surprise, it's lightened considerably, soon approaching the pale lilac color mentioned in the book. She turns down the heat a bit, not wanting it to overcook.
"Please, even if my focus wasn't single-minded, I have more of a chance than you ever will." Maya rolls her eyes, continuing the stirring pattern as the lilac becomes more apparent.
"And more arrogance too, apparently." Draco smirks, smugly, "Confidence is supposed to be earned, you know."
"I'm not taking advice from a billionaire's son on working for things." Maya snorts, "You've probably never earned a cent on your own merit."
"And once again, the assumptions arise." There's an undercurrent of tension in his words that make Maya bristle as she turns off the heat, "Money isn't everything, you know."
"And a rich person is the best judge of that?" Maya scoffs, keeping her eyes trained on her pot, "Just when I thought you couldn't get any more out of touch."
"Your close-mindedness is amusing, Rajesh." Draco scoffs.
"Bit hypocritical, don't you think?" Maya realizes the bite of her words the moment they leave her mouth, but oddly enough, the harshness doesn't phase her.
"Back to this, are we?" Draco laughs, and the sound would make her blush if it wasn't tinged with condescension, "Old habits die hard."
"Habits and observations are two different things, Malfoy." Maya snorts, "Not that I would expect you to be able to know the difference."
The steam around the room begins to clear, and as Slughorn begins to pace faster around the tables, Maya realizes that time's almost running out. But for some reason, she can't manage to tear her focus away from their conversation. The mid-morning sun falls in through the large bay windows of the potions laboratory, and Maya realizes that the golden light painting Draco's white-blonde hair softens something in his aura. But as the next words leave his lips, she wonders if her earlier observations were just a figment of her imagination. His eyes darken with something she can't place, "Believe me, I know more about differences than you think I do, Rajesh."
There's a biting undertone to the comment that Maya can't ignore, a misplaced anger that has her opening her mouth to voice a scathing retort. But just as the venom is about to spew from her lips, Blaise Zabini clears his throat, "Are you two done?"
The tension around them seems to shatter like glass, and Maya's face reddens from horror as she feels Daphne Greengrass looking at her with curiosity. Draco swallows with a tad of anxiety, raising an eyebrow at his friend, "What?"
Blaise sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with stress, "Mate, your potion's smoking."
Maya hears Draco visibly swear under his breath, and she looks to find him frantically stirring the liquid. The color eventually lightens as he turns off the heat quickly, but the texture is nowhere near hers, more of a sludge than a thin concoction.
"And time’s … up!" calls Slughorn. "Stop stirring, please!" He moves slowly between the tables, peering into cauldrons. He makes no comment, but occasionally gave the potions a stir, or a sniff. Slughorn passes over their table soon enough, glancing over Blaise and Daphne's potions with a nod as the corner of his mouth turns up at the sight of Draco's. Then, an approving smile spreads across his face as he catches sight of Maya's, making something light up inside her, "Very good effort. Maya, is it?"
"Yes, sir." She answers, keeping her voice steady.
"You're Arjun's daughter, aren't you?" He peers at her, quizzically, "He was in my class a few years before you were born. Looks like the talent hasn't skipped generations."
"Thank you." Maya smiles, and the victory feels so close she can practically taste it.
Slughorn eventually finishes in the next five minutes, repeating the same routine as he examines the other students' potions. He reaches the Gryffindor table, looking at Ron's sludge with apprehension before giving Hermione an approving grin. Then, his face lights up at the sight of Harry's and Maya's heart drops into her stomach, "The clear winner!" he cries to the dungeon. "Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good Lord, it’s clear you’ve inherited your mother’s talent, she was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are – one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"
As he slips the tiny golden vial into Harry's hand, a feeling of palpable defeat crawls over Maya, and she suddenly feels exhausted by the effort it took to even come up with a half-decent result. She sighs, a heaviness taking over her bones as she vanishes the contents of her cauldron before packing up her things. The awkward silence around them is utterly palpable, and Maya realizes, with apprehension, that the Slytherins had probably heard every word of their interaction. The thought makes her stomach flip in fear.
As if losing their backup plan wasn't enough, now she's started more rumors. How amazing.
Maya lets out a long exhale as the room begins to clear out, tucking her hair behind her ears as she blinks, softly. Then Malfoy speaks up, his tone reserved compared to before, "It was a close call, anyway."
"What?" She looks up at him, shocked.
"What do you think, Rajesh?" Draco rolls his eyes before striding away. He leaves before she has a chance to reply.
was it necessary for me to stay up until 1am writing this? no. did i do it anyway? yes because i do everything for the plot. ironically this is one of my better writing moments lol.
- xoxo,
disha
Chapter 64: Chapter 64
Chapter Text
October 2016
THEY'RE RUNNING PAST THE ARCHES AGAIN, Maya grabbing Diana's arm as they duck from a red jet of light. The shattered remnants of the prophecy she was holding lay shattered on the ground. Her heart beats fast, pounding with adrenaline as she fires a curse back at Yaxley, Diana jumping over a few seats as she pulls Maya with her. The members of Dumbledore's army fight harder than ever against the masked agents of death around them, explosions and thuds reverberating against the stone walls of the Ministry.
Across from them, Arya's engaged in a duel with Lucius Malfoy. She strikes hard, ducking as his curse hits the wall millimeters away from her, "That all you got, Malfoy?"
"Oh, you haven't seen anything yet—" Lucius snarls, drawing his wand, but a cackle on the side distracts him. As Maya dodges a stray stunner, she sees Bellatrix Lestrange facing off against Sirius.
The older man narrowly ducks, red light missing him by inches. His curse nearly knocks Bellatrix off of her feet, and she screams, enraged, "Blood traitor!"
Sirius cackles, victoriously, jumping as he dodges his cousin's curse yet again, "Azkaban's made you lose your touch, hasn't it, Bella? You're quite rusty."
"Oh, trust me, I'll make you eat your words." Bellatrix hisses. A maniacal glint glitters in her eyes as she smirks, the expression chilling Maya to the bone, "IN HELL—"
"No—" Diana screams, rushing forward.
"Come on, you can do better than that—" Sirius laughs yet again, but his expression immediately freezes. The red jet of light hits him straight in the chest, and it's as though everything happens in slow motion. Maya screams, running, but it's too late. His body crumbles in a graceful arc and falls through the thin veil covering the entrance to the arch. Disappearing like he never existed in the first place.
"No—no—" Arya screams, rushing down the steps as Shivani tries to stop her, "Shiv, let me go — Sirus!! SIRIUS!!—"
"One down." Bellatrix laughs, a cold, high laugh that makes the hair on the back of Maya's neck stand on end. Her dark eyes glitter with insanity, and just as Maya pulls out her wand to make her pay, hurt her, kill her, do something, anything to avenge the innocent man she just killed — something happens.
The Death Eater turns, and in an instant, her clothes vanish, and morph into those of someone all too familiar. Before Maya can even blink, Camille Belcourt screams, leaping at her with her hands outstretched as blood drips from her fangs. Her voice is garbled, almost demonic as she screeches "Now it's your turn, hybrid!!"
The sickening crack of the stone hitting her head is the last thing Maya feels before her soul leaves her body.
When she wakes, she doesn't wake with a bang. Maya doesn't bolt up from the bed, or fall off, thrashing in her sheets. No, she gasps in air, almost locked to the bed with the chain-mail armor of fear that roots her to the spot. Fear from what her mind just concocted. Fear all too familiar.
Fear that for some reason, something feels oddly, mysteriously wrong.
However, before she can think any further, Maya's body betrays her, and sleep pulls her back into its dark, cavernous confines once more.
The steam from the shower still lingers on her skin as Maya closes the bathroom door behind her. Classes start later today, so the sky is lighter than usual outside as she shakes her hair out of the towel, draping it over a chair and drying it with a flick of her wrist. Clary's already headed out for Arithmancy, though she doesn't have to do anything but pretend to take notes, and there's a palpable silence in the dorm as Maya slips on her school skirt, brushing her wet hair away from her face.
In fact, it's almost too silent.
Maya frowns as she sees Diana still laid out on her bed, her lavender-streaked hair spread out over the pillows. It's longer now, reaching past her shoulders in a silky curtain that's wildly different from the prim bob of her first year at Hogwarts. She's dressed in her Hufflepuff uniform, but Maya notices that only one of her socks is pulled on fully, the other still ruched messily at the ankle, "You alright?"
"Yeah." Diana's voice is rough, not taking her hands away from her face, "M'fine. Just sleepy."
"You don't seem fine." Maya raises an eyebrow at her dismissive tone. Then she notices a newspaper lying next to her, the headline reading, 'MALFOY RAID TURNS INCONCLUSIVE YET AGAIN — MINISTRY FRUSTRATED'
“This second search of the Death Eater’s residence does not seem to have yielded any results." Maya mutters, taking the paper in her hands, "Arthur Weasley of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon a confidential tip-off...." She trails off, looking down at Diana. The tense set of her shoulders hasn't faded, but she's taken her hands off of her face, replacing it with a blank expression that's completely unlike her, "Diana, are you okay?"
Diana sighs, the sound long and drawn out enough that it feels like a million unsaid thoughts are escaping her in one breath. Then she sighs, "I will be."
"I didn't know about the first one." Maya crosses her arms over her chest, "God, it must be awful having to deal with it again—"
"Maya, stop." Diana's snap of words makes her freeze mid-sentence. Then she sighs again, regretting the harshness of her earlier tone, "I'm sorry, I just really don't want to talk about this."
"It's okay." Maya steps back, taking the cold hint. There's a part of her that feels pity for Diana, thrown in the middle of a conflict between dark and light that she had no part in. A feeling she knows all too well, "Just...let me know if you need anything, alright?"
"We'll see." Diana turns away from her as she sits up, pulling on her boots haphazardly. Meanwhile, Maya takes out a white button down from her closet, pulling it off the corner as Diana straightens her sock behind her. But just as Maya begins to slip the shirt on, she hears Diana gasp, "Jesus, what happened to your back?!"
"What?!" Maya immediately touches her neck out of instinct, but the glamour thankfully still covers the fang mark.
"Did you fall or something?" Diana questions, her tone concerned. Maya shifts, turning around as the white shirt hangs off her elbows, and true to her friend's words, there is something that catches her eye. A dark purple bruise mars the skin between her shoulder blades, partially hidden beneath the back of her bra. She presses her fingers to the edge, and immediately hisses at the tender feeling that blooms at her touch, "God, that looks painful."
"Fuck." Maya swears. Confusion swirls through her brain — she doesn't remember getting injured in the last 24 hours, her days filled with studying and reading that's mundane enough to even give an archivist a headache, "How did I not notice this?"
"You want some bruise paste for that?" Diana questions, frowning, "It's a bit nasty to look at."
"Don't have time." Maya sighs, pulling on the shirt the rest of the way and buttoning it with a flick of her wrist as she tucks it into her skirt, "You're coming to Hogsmeade later, right?"
"Yeah." Diana sighs, "I need to stock up on some quills. My last supply ran out."
"You want to meet us at Honeydukes after?" Maya raises an expectant eyebrow, "I'll be there around three thirty. Need to change after History Of Magic."
"Sure." Diana hesitates, for a second, and Maya can see a hint of doubt in her emerald eyes. It unnerves her, and just as she opens her mouth to question it, Diana clears her throat, briskly getting up and striding out of the room, "I'm uh — I'm going to head to class."
"See you later..." Maya's voice trails off as her friend hurries away, the door slamming shut behind her, "I guess?"
The walk into Hogsmeade later that afternoon is far from enjoyable. The October wind is bitterly cold, and Maya shivers, violently, her coat tighter around her as her boots trudge through the muddy ground. Even in a sweater and jeans, she's somehow still freezing, not quite used to the bone-chilling temperatures of Scotland instead of the balmy chill in New York this time of year. Eventually, when her legs feel close to thawing off her body, Maya manages to make it to Honeydukes unscathed, sighing in relief as the warm, balmy interior of the shop greets her. She spots Harry, Ron & Hermione next to a stack of sugar quills and walks over, "Hiya."
"Hey." Hermione smiles, linking her arm with Maya's. Ron's poring over a stack of Fizzing Whizzes and shoots her a distracted wave.
"Glad you made it." Harry grins, but it's quickly overshadowed by an expression of dread as Slughorn approaches them in an enormous furry hat and holding a sizeable box of crystallized pineapple, "Oh no."
"Harry, that’s three of my little suppers you’ve missed now." says Slughorn, poking him genially in the chest, though Maya sees Harry wince for a split second, "It won’t do, m’boy, I’m determined to have you! Miss Granger loves them, don’t you?"
"Yes," says Hermione helplessly, "they’re really –"
"So why don’t you come along, Harry?" demands Slughorn.
"Well, I’ve had Quidditch practice, Professor," Harry quickly comes to his own defense, though Maya's seen him schedule in practice sessions almost as soon as a violet-ribboned invitation is delivered to his hands.
"Well, I certainly expect you to win your first match after all this hard work!" says Slughorn, "But a little recreation never hurt anybody. Now, how about Monday night, you can’t possibly want to practise in this weather. Bring Ms. Rajesh here with you, I'm sure she'll enjoy the atmosphere as well!" Slughorn gestures to her and Maya immediately feels put on the spot.
"I can’t, Professor, I’ve got – er – an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that evening." Harry immediately stammers, glancing to her nervously.
"Yeah and um — I've got to see a healer." Maya stammers, waving to her eyes lamely, "Bad vision, y'know. Might need glasses." She sees Ron give her a suspicious look from the side and Maya immediately feels her cheeks bloom red with embarrassment.
"Unlucky again!" cries Slughorn dramatically. "Ah, well … you can’t evade me for ever, Harry!" And with a regal wave, he waddles out of the shop, taking as little notice of Ron as though he's a display of Cockroach Clusters.
"Nice save, Maya." Harry sighs, a breath of relief escaping his chest as soon as the door closes behind their potions Professor.
"Shut up." Maya crosses her arms over her chest in defence, "How was I supposed to know what to say."
"I can’t believe you’ve wriggled out of another one," says Hermione, shaking her head. "They’re not that bad, you know … they’re even quite fun sometimes …’ But then she catches sight of Ron’s expression. "Oh, look – they’ve got Deluxe Sugar Quills – those would last hours!"
Feigning interest in the candy quickly pivots the direction of the conversation away from exclusionary gatherings, though Ron remains sullen. Eventually, the four of them head to the Three Broomsticks in search of warm butterbeer, and Diana joins them there. The pub is quite crowded at this time of day, and Maya and Diana stay behind to get their drinks as Harry and the rest try to snag a table.
"One pumpkin fizz, please." Diana nods to Madam Rosemerta.
"Only you would choose to freeze off your insides in this weather, " Maya muses, playfully rolling her eyes at her friend, "Uh—one hot butterbeer with ginger, please."
"Coming right up." The curvy barmaid smiles at both of them before heading away to prepare their drinks, though her eyes linger on Diana for a second that feels out of play.
"Some of us are made of sterner stuff, Maya." Diana manages a small laugh, ruffling her hair, and Maya feels a slight sense of relief.
However, as Madam Rosemerta places their drinks back on the counter and her hand wraps around the warm tankard, Maya hears the soft clink of the bell behind her, a soft creak emanating from the entrance as the door opens. She looks over her shoulder as Theodore Nott hangs his coat on a hook, his eyes finding hers almost immediately, and something instantly drops in her stomach, "Shit."
"Oh." Diana breathes out, in realization, "Wanna make a run for it?"
"Too late." Maya mutters as he approaches them, his dark brown curls tousled as he nervously runs a hand through his hair, "You go. I'll handle this myself."
"You sure?" Diana mutters, giving the Slytherin a suspicious glance.
"Positive." For once, something within Maya advises her against involving Diana in her affairs, a warning voice that she can't ignore.
"Alright then." Diana gives Theo a wary look before walking off, leaving Maya holding her drink in her hands as he walks up to her.
"Hi, Rajesh." He laughs, and Maya sees a dimple pop up in his left cheek, "Didn't think I'd see you here."
"Well, the whole population seems to want Butterbeer." Maya manages to crack a nervous smile, gesturing to the crowd around them.
"Yeah, they're usually full towards the end of the year." Theo sighs, "Gets pretty packed."
"Good to know." Maya nods, "So um...what's up?"
"Oh, uh, just wanted to see how you were doing." Theo blurts, casually, "How's school?"
"Fine." Maya states, "Classes aren't too intense right now, so everything's pretty chill."
"Pretty much the same for me." Theo sighs, "Listen, uh...I'm sorry for what happened at the party."
"What are you talking about?" Maya frowns, then her expression changes as she remembers their argument over her drink, him insisting that he would never have tampered with it in a million years as something uneasy had taken over her resolve and eventually made her give in, "Oh...that."
"Yeah, I — uh — overreacted quite a bit." Theo laughs, nervously, "It wasn't exactly proper for me to force my view on such a trivial issue. So, uh, I'm sorry."
Maya frowns for a second, trying to digest the meaning of his words. The word trivial sticks out to her, making something annoyed twist in her chest, and just as she opens her mouth to question what he meant by that, something in his expression stops her. Theo's eyes are sincere, betraying nothing other than a bit of regret at their earlier interaction, and a wave of exhaustion from the day thus far hits her right in the moment. With resignation, Maya realizes she's in no mood to argue again, and simply settles for a shrug, sighing, "It's okay, Nott. Mistakes happen."
"Alright." Theo visibly relaxes, "So we're good?"
"Yeah." Maya exhales, softly, keeping her expression calm and composed as she takes a sip of her Butterbeer, "We are."
"Theo, you forgot your jersey after practice—" A familiar voice sours the caramelly taste of Butterbeer on Maya's tongue. Draco Malfoy freezes midway as the green fabric dangles from his dark, coat-clad elbow. There's a pause in which his blond hair looks ruffled, flopping slightly over his forehead as he looks between the two of them with something between surprise and shock, "Rajesh."
"Malfoy." Maya swallows, a lump forming in her throat. Something in the air shifts.
"Oh, thanks." Theo takes the jersey from Draco, oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere, "I was wondering where I'd left it. You staying, Maya?"
"Huh?" The use of her first name startles her, and Maya blinks, "Uh.." She looks to the Trio's table, and finds them curiously peering at Nott, "I actually have to join my friends. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting, y'know?"
"Alright." Theo nods, swiftly, "See you around, then."
"Sure.." Maya trails off, as he walks away. There's a few moments in which her brain feels fuzzy, struggling to draw together the details of what just happened. Then, Draco clears his throat, and the sound snaps her back to reality.
"What?" Maya scoffs, taking a sip of her Butterbeer, and finding that it's cooled considerably from all the time she's just spent standing there.
"I didn't say anything." Draco shrugs. The expression on his face has hardened, almost unreadable. For some reason, it frustrates her.
"Just spit it out, Malfoy." Maya rolls her eyes, much to his distaste.
"I didn't know you and Nott were ... friendly." Something narrows in Draco's eyes as he looks at her.
That's news to me too. Maya almost wants to say, but there's something in his expression that stops her, "What are you getting at?" she snaps, her patience growing thin.
"Nothing." His expression hardens, and Maya suddenly feels regret at the harshness of her tone, "Never mind."
"Wait—" She turns around to place her tankard on the counter, but something shifts behind her, and as soon as Maya looks back, he's gone, leaving a lukewarm Butterbeer in her hands and confusion swirling in her brain.
What just happened?
Eventually, when the Butterbeer is emptied from their tankards and the crowd starts to lessen, Harry makes the suggestion that they should head out. The conversation up until now has been surface-level in nature, consisting of small talk and gripes with teachers, essays to be finished and homework discarded. But finally, when they can't exhaust those small topics anymore, the atmosphere goes stale, and after paying for their drinks, the six of them walk out into the freezing cold evening once more, Diana shivering as the chilly air hits them once more.
"Do you think it's possible to become a human icicle?" Maya hisses to her as her teeth chatter, boots trudging along the snowy path back to school.
"Maybe." Diana shivers, wrapping her coat tighter around herself as she leans against Maya for a second, "God, I swear I can feel my blood freezing."
Maya snorts, but before she can say anything back, Katie Bell's shrill voice pierces the air around them, "It’s nothing to do with you, Leanne!"
"What the—" Maya mutters, as the two girls argue before them. Sleet starts coming in thick and fast as Maya raises a hand to cover her eyes, coughing. Leanne makes to grab hold of the brown-covered package in her friend's hands, but when the other girl yanks it back, it falls to the ground.
"Hey!" Diana waves to them, signaling to the ground, "You dropped this—"
But suddenly, Katie rises into the air, her eyes fluttering shut as the wind seems to hoist her up above them. The breeze whips her hair around her face and for a moment, she looks graceful hanging in the air, her face devoid of any expression. Yet there's something wrong that Maya can't place, a cold feeling of dread that sinks under her skin. They all halt in their tracks, watching carefully.
"Katie?" Maya calls, hesitantly, her voice barely audible as the wind rushes louder than ever.
Almost instantly, Katie lets out a blood-curdling scream, making the hair stand on end on the back of Maya's neck as Hermione gasps in horror. Her eyes fly open but whatever she can see or feel seems to cause her great anguish, face twisted in utter terror as Leanne starts to scream too, trying to drag her friend down by the ankle.
"Get her legs!" Ron yells, as they all rush forward. Maya manages to catch her other ankle, but even as they managed to pull Katie down further, her writhing makes it even harder to hold her down.
"Do something!" Leanne screams, as Katie's other ankle manages to slip out of her grip, though Diana grabs it in time.
Harry looks frantically around them, but somehow, the atmosphere is deserted, not a soul in sight around them. Then, he spots a tall figure in the distance, and immediately bolts, shouting, "Stay here!! I'll get help."
It feels like an eternity before he arrives with Hagrid. Even though Katie is relatively small, it's still a struggle for the five of them to hold her down, as she thrashes violently, not seeming to recognize any of them. The screaming grows louder and louder until Maya feels like the girl will rip her own vocal cords. Then, Hermione finally stuns her just as Hagrid lumbers over, Harry rapidly explaining what they saw to him. The larger man says nothing, scooping the Gryffindor up in his arms as he runs back to the castle. Then, it's just them and the whistling wind once more, the echo of Katie's anguished screams still lingering in the air.
Hermione hurries over to Katie’s wailing friend and puts an arm around her. "It’s Leanne, isn’t it?" The girl nods, "Did it just happen all of a sudden, or –?"
"It was when that package tore," sobs Leanne, pointing at the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, which has split open to reveal a greenish glitter.
"I’ve seen that before," says Harry, staring at the thing. "It was on display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed. Katie must have touched it."
"Cursed?" Maya mutters, a part of her reaching forward to pick the necklace up off the ground and inspect it for herself. But Diana immediately yanks her back, grip tight around her forearm, and Maya immediately notices that the camaraderie from earlier has been completely wiped off of her face, replaced with a tight, grim expression that looks completely unlike her.
Diana looks up at Leanne, who's started to shake uncontrollably, "How did Katie get hold of this?"
"Well, that’s why we were arguing. She came back from the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks holding it, said it was a surprise for somebody at Hogwarts and she had to deliver it. She looked all funny when she said it … oh no, oh no, I bet she’d been Imperiused, and I didn’t realise!" Leanne shakes with renewed sobs, and Maya feels a twinge of pity for the poor girl and what she's been forced to witness.
Maya reaches out to pat her shoulder, frowning. "She didn’t say who’d given it to her, Leanne?"
"No … she wouldn’t tell me … and I said she was being stupid and not to take it up to school, but she just wouldn’t listen and … and then I tried to grab it from her … and – and –" Leanne let out a wail of despair, and Hermione sighs, wrapping an arm around the sobbing Gryffindor.
"It wasn't your fault, Leanne." Maya sighs, running a hand through her hair, "You had no way of knowing what would happen—"
"Diana?" Ron's concerned voice interrupts her, "You okay?"
The Hufflepuff's face is chalk-white, paler than Maya's ever seen it as she stares down at the necklace. Her green eyes suddenly seem too big for her face, widening in horror as a glint of recognition sparkles in her emerald orbs. She immediately jumps as Maya places a hand on her shoulder, "Di?"
"I-I have to go." Diana gasps, and a look of deathly anxiety takes over her face as she bolts into the distance, ignoring their calls toward her.
"What the hell?" Ron mutters, in confusion.
"Do you think she'll be alright out here?" Hermione looks at Maya in concern, "Alone?"
"I—" Maya starts, but something catches her eye. Draco Malfoy's tall figure stands in the distance, and to her surprise, he looks just as pale and shocked as his sister. Diana grabs him, shaking his shoulders and mouthing words Maya's too far away to hear. But as his grey eyes lock in on a still-sobbing Leanne, Maya sees horror spread through them, and meets his gaze with wide eyes. Then, as soon as the two appeared into view, they're gone, Diana dragging her brother away into the snowy landscape until the white obscures them both.
"Maya?" Harry frowns.
His words snap her back to reality, "Yeah." Maya swallows, sighing, "She'll be fine."
"We’d better get up to school," says Hermione, her arm still around Leanne, "We’ll be able to find out how Katie is. Come on." And with that, the four of them head up the path to school, the chill suddenly eclipsed by the palpable silence between them.
Hours later, the temperature in her room is warmer, yet an eerie chill has settled over Gryffindor tower. Maya sits on her bed, fingering the long sleeves of her pyjama shirt (albeit one of Arjun's old Auror sweaters). The afternoon has faded to dusk as the darkened sky greets her window outside, stairs faintly shimmering like jewels sewn into the dark fabric of the night. Katie's been whisked away to St. Mungos without so much as a word, but the buzz of what happened to her has spread like wildfire throughout the school. She can still picture the very moment the necklace fell to the ground, the moment Katie's shrill voice pierced the solitude of Hogsmeade in an agonized scream.
There's something familiar about that green, glittering package. Something she can't quite place at that moment.
As Maya's eyes start to droop with the exhaustion of the day, she notices the pumpkin juice bottle from earlier sitting on her desk, somehow having brought it with her despite the hazy memories clouding her brain. Or more accurately, the lack thereof.
As she picks it up in her hands, the plastic is ice-cold, but Maya just attributes it to the chilly atmosphere that comes with the English autumn. The cap is slightly loose, and as she turns to shut it closed, Maya feels her fingers brush over something clinging to the stalk of the pumpkin. As she moves her hand, a dot of red wax mars the orange surface like a pockmark. Maya frowns, bringing the lid closer to her eyes. But just as her fingertips graze the speck, it seems to vanish into thin air, leaving behind the same smooth plastic without any traces of it's presence.
The bottle drops from her hands as the door slams open, and a tremble wracks through her fingers. What the fuck?!
"You saw it, didn't you?" Clary breathes out, panting in exertion as her green eyes flash. She immediately shuts the door behind her, "What happened to Katie Bell?"
"Y-yeah." Maya manages to stutter, righting herself as Clary pushes back her red hair, "I did."
There's a pregnant pause in which her expression cracks. A wild glint graces the Shadowhunter's eyes, and her face seems to turn several shades paler as she lets out a shaky exhale. Clary slumps against her bedpost, "What the fuck is going on at this school?"
"What do you mean?" Maya mutters, looking at her warily.
"You know what I mean." Clary's eyes shoot her a sharp look, "Are we even safe here?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Maya's tone is dry, but her throat suddenly feels scratchy with anxiety. She reaches for the water glass beside her bed, but before she can lift it to her lips, the redhead begins speaking again.
"I don't understand what's going on." Clary's voice is exasperated as she closes her eyes, "They said things would be normal. That we were supposed to act normal."
"The Institute has never been good at predictions, Clary." Maya sighs, her tone gentler, this time. Although it's supposed to be comforting, the words feel hollow leaving her own mouth, and Clary seems to sense it, shooting her a wary look.
"There's something wrong with this place." Clary mutters, almost to herself, "Something dark. First the news...then the party...then someone almost murders Katie—"
"Nothing happened at the party." Maya snaps, before she can stop herself.
Clary's eyes immediately shoot to her, "That's a lie and you fucking know it."
"Don't draw conclusions without evidence." Maya sighs. A chill takes over her at the memory of waking up, something misplaced in her mind that she couldn't explain, "This isn't about me."
"Without evidence?" Clary raises her eyebrows, scoffing, "Oh, so a girl getting levitated and tortured isn't enough evidence to you?"
"That had nothing to do with whatever happened that night." Maya snaps, "If something even happened."
"How do you know?" Clary challenges, "You were so freaked out when you woke up. How are you so sure now?"
"I—" Maya starts, but something stops her. The blank time from her memory has still not returned, the hazy memories of her leaving so deeply intertwined with her awakening in her bed that she can't tell where one memory ends and the other begins. It's unnatural, the way the two of them are interlocked in her head, so unlike the way brains usually store information. Almost as if someone had manipulated her mind.
Fuck. No. No—
It can't be true, right?
"You don't have to act when it's just the both of us, Maya, " Clary seems to notice the sudden change in Maya's demeanour, and sits down on the bed across from her, concern creeping into her emerald orbs, "This isn't right. We need to go to someone—"
"No." Maya interrupts her, finally finding her voice, "No. We can't do that."
"Are you insane?!" Clary gives her an incredulous look, "You're going to just sweep this under the rug?!"
"We can't draw any more attention to ourselves than we already have." Maya breathes out, shakily, "We have a cover to maintain."
"A cover?" Clary sputters, "Do you even know what you're saying—"
"Which is why we need to lay as low as we possibly can." Maya hisses, "We can't afford another mishap."
"And you think going to Magnus or Maryse would make that more likely?" Clary scoffs.
"You really think they'd be happy to find out that we were underage drinking at a party we weren't even supposed to be at in the first place?" Maya snaps
Silence descends upon Clary as she falters for words. She finally slumps, putting her face in her hands, "We can't just pretend that nothing happened."
"We can be more cautious." Maya states, but her words sound feeble to her own ears, "Take precautions, put up extra wards."
"I just—" Clary's voice breaks for a second, faltering. Maya sees the crack in her expression again, and something shimmers in her green eyes, "After Jace, I— I can't. I won't. I can't lose you too."
There's a pause as Maya registers what just came out of the redhead's mouth. Something twists in her heart at Clary's words, and just as she opens her mouth to reply, the door swings open again. Maya whips around to find none other than Diana haphazardly throwing her satchel down on her bed. Her face is pale and troubled, and she barely looks at the two of them as something in brews in her eyes, "What happened?" Maya blurts out, before she can stop herself.
"Nothing," Her answer is short and curt, "I just need to take a shower." Without a word, she walks off into the bathroom locking the door behind her.
As the water begins to run, the swirling smoke of doubt and confusion in Maya's mind grows larger than ever as Clary slumps against the side of her bed. In that moment, the weight of their secrets seems inescapable, like a noose around her neck that'll never untie itself.
And maybe, this time, it'll actually pull her under.
my sleep schedule is fucked but this arc is even more so. good night guys, girlies and gays.
Chapter 65: Chapter 65
Chapter Text
October 2016
"DID YOU NOTICE SOMETHING ABOUT THE NECKLACE?" Harry questions her, as owls fly over the breakfast table.
"Huh?" Maya barely manages to get out, swallowing her mouthful of cornflakes.
"The one Katie touched." Ron sighs, exhausted, "He hasn't shut up about it."
"It's from Borgin and Burkes." Harry continues, ignoring his friend, "Don't you remember? The really expensive, cursed one that we saw that day?"
"Oh." A faint image of the opals set in silver comes to her memory, and the feeling of deja vu from before suddenly makes sense, "When we were—"
"Tailing Malfoy around Knockturn Alley, yes." Harry sighs.
Clary chokes on her juice, whirling around as she stares at Maya, "You were what?!"
"Long story." Maya sighs. There's a headache beginning to form in her temples, and she massages one, clearing her throat, "Your point being?"
"He thinks the ferret was the one who gave that necklace to Katie Bell." Hermione groans into her newspaper.
"What?!" Maya sputters, shocked, "Harry, where is this coming from?"
"Think about it." Harry presses on, and Ron and Hermione immediately shoot each other a knowing look, "Malfoy took something to Borgin and Burkes for repair, right? He bought something else that day, and I think it was that necklace—"
"Harry, just because someone visits a suspicious shop doesn't mean that they're a possible murderer." Ron sighs, exasperated.
"Besides, " Hermione interrupts, "Borgin asked him if he wanted to take it with him, and Malfoy said “no”—"
"Because he didn’t want to touch it, obviously!" Harry pipes up, carrying on, "What he actually said was, 'How would I look carrying that down the street?' Of course he'd look like a prat carrying a necklace."
"That doesn't make any sense." Maya's brain swirls in confusion, "He could've just wrapped it up in a cover and put it in his bag. No one would have been the wiser."
"I think whatever he reserved at Borgin and Burkes was noisy or bulky; something he knew would draw attention to him if he carried it down the street – and in any case," Hermione glares at Harry before he can interrupt, "I asked Borgin about the necklace, don’t you remember? When I went in to try and find out what Malfoy had asked him to keep, I saw it there. And Borgin just told me the price, he didn’t say it was already sold or anything."
"He could have still sent off for it." Harry doesn't relent, defensively crossing his arms over his chest, "Had it delivered."
"How exactly would he have gotten it past the wards?" Clary questions, frowning, "Every incoming parcel's being checked right now. I doubt they would've missed a cursed necklace."
"Besides." Ron sighs, "He wasn't even in Hogsmeade that day, remember?"
"What?" Ron's words directly contradict the memory of that afternoon in Maya's head, "What do you mean?"
"McGonagall said that he had detention with her." Hermione continues, "He hasn't done his homework for the past two classes."
"No, that's not true." The words leave her mouth before she can stop herself, "I saw him."
"What do you mean?" Ron squints at her in confusion.
"Malfoy — um — " It's too late to backtrack now, she realizes, internally facepalming at her own stupidity, "He came to give Nott his Quidditch jersey back."
"To the Three Broomsticks?" Harry's eyes are wide with shock, and Maya's stomach drops.
"Yes." Maya sighs, "But Harry, I don't think he—"
"What motive would he have, anyway?" Ron sighs, "It's not like Katie's done anything to him."
"Didn't you hear?" Harry scoffs, "The package wasn't for Katie, it was for someone back at the castle. There are loads of people wanted dead. Dumbledore— pretty much all of the Death Eaters want him dead. Slughorn— apparently Voldemort really wanted him on his side and I doubt he's pleased that the man's working with Dumbledore."
"Or you." Hermione says, suddenly, looking troubled.
"Wouldn't she have just turned around and given Harry the package if he was the target?" Maya questions, "We were right behind her. Katie could've just thrown it at him and it would've worked."
"It can't be me. She had to take it into the castle." Harry sighs, "Or would have, if she hadn't touched the necklace."
"Harry, I really think you're making assumptions here.—" Hermione starts.
"No, I'm not. There's no way these two things are a coincidence." Harry huffs, leaning back in his seat, "He had to have something to do with Katie's attack. It's all too fishy."
Ron and Hermione immediately give Maya a look that says, 'He's never going to shut up about it.' But their expression does nothing to fan the flames of dread rising within her, and as outlandish as his assumptions sound, there's an element of oddity in the events that can't be ignored. Despite herself, Maya begins to see how Harry could've drawn his conclusion, spun the threads weaving the possible plot together. Threads — though she would never admit this out loud — that could hold more strength than Ron and Hermione believe.
"Maya, you coming?" Clary taps her arm, and she jolts, suddenly, the redhead's words snapping her back to reality, "Transfiguration starts in five minutes."
"Y-yeah." She clambers off of her seat, not even daring to look at the Slytherin table as they leave the Great Hall.
Later, when Maya's done with her classes and has a History of Magic test tomorrow that she desperately needs to study for, she heads to the Library instead of rotting away in her dorm. Diana — though slightly less forlorn and anxious than in the past — looked like she needed her alone time, so in an effort to give her space, she's moved her study materials to another part of the castle. However, many people have seemed to pick up the same hints as her, and as she walks around the aisles of shelves, Maya realizes that an alarming amount of the tables are already packed with students absorbed in their own schoolwork. Her feet eventually grow weary as she searches for an empty spot, and just as Maya's about to give up and just curl up with her books next to the house-elves in the kitchen, her eyes spot an empty table just a few feet away.
Thank God.
However, as Maya rounds a corner, she realizes that the table is in fact, not empty. In fact, it's partially occupied by a certain blond prat — one that they'd been discussing in hushed tones at the Gryffindor table this morning. Draco Malfoy's hair flops over his eyes as he scribbles something down on a piece of parchment, bottom lip caught between his teeth in concentration. His grey eyes are narrowed and focused, the sharp slopes of his cheekbones and jaw leading a serious look to his face as he works on whatever he's doing. At a closer glance, Maya realizes that he's not doing homework. In fact, he's drawing, sketching with a precision that she's only ever seen Clary display.
And oddly, the action endears her.
"I know you're prone to staring, Rajesh." He drawls, quietly, though the words almost make her jump out of her skin, "But if you keep standing there, people are going to think you've been Petrified."
'You would know,' a nasty part of her wants to say, but Maya shoves down the urge and instead rolls her eyes, "I wasn't staring at you, Malfoy."
"I never said you were staring at me." Draco lifts up an eyebrow, finally glancing up at her, "Giving away your true intentions?"
"In your dreams." Maya huffs, plopping her bag down on the table beside him. She glares at his taken-aback expression, "There aren't any other free tables in the library, so suck it up and share."
"Someone's in a feisty mood today." He comments, the sounds of pen scratching paper reaching Maya's ears alongside his voice, "What, your cat ate your Potions essay?"
"Scratched it up, actually." Maya groans at the memory, then glances at her bag and immediately snaps back to reality, "Anyway, keep your scintillating musings to yourself. I came here to study."
"How sincere." Maya doesn't miss the dry tone of Draco's voice as he rolls his eyes at her behaviour, "I'm sure Slughorn will give you a gold star for effort next class."
"I would've thought you'd gotten over my superior results by now." Maya tuts, as she takes her flashcards out of her bag, "But clearly expecting that level of maturity from you was unrealistic on my part."
"Hmm." He muses but doesn't press further. For a moment, Maya thinks that her words have irked him, but as she glances in his direction, his concentrated expression betrays that it's not the case.
So, for a few moments, she lets him be, flipping through her cards as the sound of quill against parchment fills the space around them. Eventually, when her brain starts to get muddled with information and Maya's curiosity starts to get the best of her, she peeks over the last card, watching the slow strokes of his hand tracing ink against paper, "What're you working on?"
"Drafting my will." Draco's voice is bored and sardonic, and normally, Maya would chuckle, but there's something in his tone that begs a slight inkling of truth. It's then that Maya notices the harsher lines of his face, and the dark shadows under his eyes seem to suddenly reveal themselves as he drawls, "Thought you were supposed to be studying, Rajesh."
"I'm done." Maya rolls her eyes. She can barely see what he's sketching as he looms over the page, but the faint strokes paint a delicate image of a castle — the one around them, in fact. Surrounded by dark swirls and sparkles of magic she's never seen look so alive on paper before, Maya begrudgingly admits to herself that it's a pretty sight, "Didn't know you were an artist, Malfoy."
"I'm not." The tone of his voice is stiff, making her raise an eyebrow.
"That wasn't an insult." Maya's tone softens, and she sees his posture relax ever so slightly, "You're not bad at drawing."
"Not bad?" Draco's tone betrays a hint of amusement, "How sweet of you to humor me."
"You know, for once, I actually miss your gigantic ego." Maya huffs.
"That's a sentence I never thought would come out of your mouth." Draco snorts, for a moment, and some of the forlornness bleeds out of his expression.
"Mention it again and I'll take back the compliment." Maya rolls her eyes.
"Compliment?" Draco's eyes shoot up to her and she sees surprise flash within the grey pools.
"What else did you think I was saying?" Maya narrows her eyes at him.
"I don't know." He suddenly breaks eye contact and Maya's confused for a second. But the pink decorating his cheekbones gives her an idea as to why Draco's suddenly retreated within himself, "You're quite sarchotic."
"Not everyone's a sarcastic little shit at every hour of the day, Malfoy." Maya sighs, raising her eyebrows at him, "Giving yourself some credit for your work would do you wonders in terms of perception."
"I'll keep that in mind." Draco's tone is soft, softer than she's heard in a while, and there's a familiar look in his eyes as they meet hers. One that makes a blush of Maya's own rise to her cheeks. In that moment, with sunlight drifting through the gauzy curtains and his blond hair slightly messy and ruffled, Draco Malfoy looks harmless. Normal, even.
At that very moment, the conversation from this morning crashes onto Maya like a bucket of ice.
"Why were you in Hogsmeade that day?" The words leave her mouth before she can stop them, "When Katie...you know."
Any trace of warmth vanishes from Draco's expression as soon as he hears the Gryffindor's name. His grey eyes harden with something she can't explain, and Maya visibly sees him swallows before he quietly replies, "Why are you asking me this?"
"I just — " Maya sputters, trying to backtrack, "I was supposed to meet with McGonagall that day and she cancelled because she had detention with you."
The excuse is flimsy to her own ears, but Maya prays that he buys her words as Draco narrows his eyes at her for a moment. Then, some of the iciness vanishes from his expression and he clears his throat, "We had practice that evening before it got canceled for.....obvious reasons. McGonagall let me go for a few moments to give Theo his jersey."
"Really?" Maya squints, confused, "She just.....let you?"
"Some of us are better at persuading people than others, Rajesh." Draco rolls his eyes, and some of the humour creeps back into his expression.
"Huh." Maya chews her lip for a moment, lost in thought. There was something cold in his eyes the very moment Katie's name came up, a chill that eclipsed the warmth of the grey and froze it to cloudy ice. Draco's pupils dilate in a way that she's never seen before, and a shiver spreads down her spine, cold and glassy instead of the warm anticipation it usually feels like in his presence.
Whatever he's thinking, Maya doesn't like it.
"I should, um — " Maya fumbles with her words, closing her eyes for a bit as she clears her throat, "I should go to dinner."
"Alright, then — " Draco breaks off, the sarcasm dripping away from his voice as he glances at the clock. His words stop mid-sentence, "It's four in the evening."
"I'm hungry." Maya rolls her eyes, suddenly willing herself not to look in his direction. She quickly packs up her things, stowing her study materials in her satchel before slinging the bag over her shoulder, "I'm a growing girl, you know."
"Definitely not vertically — ouch!" Draco hisses as Maya swats his arm. He scowls at her, "What gives, woman?"
"Shut up." Maya huffs, annoyance creeping into her tone.
"Make me." He raises his eyebrows coolly, as though the heat of what he's just said isn't searing into her skin.
"Don't force my hand, Malfoy." Maya tuts, glaring back at him with a vengeance, "My hexes could make you cry in your sleep."
"If I wanted to be cursed, I would've just smiled at Potter." Draco rolls his eyes, and somehow, Maya finds herself amused as she walks away, feeling his eyes on her back for a split second before he continues his brooding artistry.
Her test ends up going well, and Maya feels some confidence in the haphazard way she manages to scribble her answers down. Later that week, they get forced to extract some very suspicious-looking pods in Herbology, and no matter how hard Maya forces her knuckles into thick exterior, she can't manage to make the bloody thing so much as crack.
"You know, I don’t think I’ll be having any of these in my garden when I’ve got my own place," says Ron, pushing his goggles up on to his forehead and wiping sweat from his face.
"Pass me a bowl," says Hermione, holding the pulsating pod at arm’s length; Harry hands one over and she drops the pod into it with a look of disgust on her face.
"Don’t be squeamish, squeeze it out, they’re best when they’re fresh!" calls Professor Sprout, annoyingly cheerful as Maya smacks the pod down on the table with frustration.
"Do you think McGonagall would kick my arse if I tried dropping Herbology now?" Maya pants.
"Most definitely, " says Hermione, all too coolly, earning her an immediate glare from Maya, "Slughorn’s going to have another party, Harry, and there’s no way you’ll be able to wriggle out of this one because he actually asked me to check your free evenings, so he could be sure to have it on a night you can come."
"Maya, please?" Harry looks at her pleadingly, "I'm sure Slughorn would find you interesting."
"In your dreams." Maya smiles as sweetly as she can, "I have no interest in climbing his social ladder."
"They're really not that bad, you know." Hermione gives her a pointed look, "You can't like you're allergic to socializing forever."
"I'm not allergic, I'm simply intolerant to the concept of networking." Maya sighs, smacking her pod against the table, "For Christ's sake — if the Boy Who Lived wants to become the Boy Who Died Of Boredom, so be it. But I'm not joining him."
"I fucking hate you." Harry doesn't even try to hide his distaste, groaning audibly as Maya snickers.
Ron, meanwhile, who's currently attempting to burst the pod in the bowl by putting both hands on it, standing up and squashing it as hard as he can, says angrily, "And this is another party just for Slughorn’s favourites, is it?"
"Just for the Slug Club, yes," says Hermione.
The pod flies out from under Ron’s fingers and hits the greenhouse glass, rebounding on to the back of Professor Sprout’s head and knocking off her old patched hat. Harry moves to go get it, and Maya drowns out the sound of their bickering for a few moments as she finally manages to squeeze out her pod, shivering in disgust at the thick, sticky liquid coating her fingers.
Hermione starts again, "Look, I didn’t make up the name “Slug Club” –"
"Slug Club." repeats Ron with a sneer worthy of Malfoy. "It’s pathetic. Well, I hope you enjoy your party. Why don’t you try getting off with McLaggen, then Slughorn can make you King and Queen Slug –"
‘We’re allowed to bring guests," says Hermione, who for some reason has turned a bright, boiling scarlet, "and I was going to ask you to come, but if you think it’s that stupid then I won’t bother!"
There's a sudden uncomfortable silence that descends upon the three of them, and not for the first time, Maya really, really regrets taking Herbology as an elective that year. Unnoticed by either of them, Harry seizes a bowl that contains a pod and begins to try and open it by the noisiest and most energetic means he can. Unfortunately, it still doesn't drown out Ron and Hermione's conversation.
"You were going to ask me?" asks Ron, in a completely different voice.
"Yes," says Hermione angrily. "But obviously if you’d rather I got off with McLaggen …"
There's a pause while Harry continues to pound the resilient pod with a trowel. "No, I wouldn’t," says Ron, his tone suddenly quiet.
"Class!" Professor Sprout calls out as she walks past the four of them, shooting a pointed look at the large bowl of pods still on the table between them, "There's five minutes to the end!"
"We should, um — " Maya pauses for a second, looking at Hermione, "We should pick up the pace on the pods, shouldn't we?"
"Yes!" Hermione squeaks, in a high-pitched voice that suggests that she's incredibly caught off guard. Ron immediately looks away from her with a pink flush to his cheeks, and grabs a pod from the bowl, pounding it against the table rather aggressively as he tries to extract the sap, "Well, let's get on with it, shall we?"
"Alright." Harry shoots Maya a knowing look before he reaches for a knife in front of them.
Ron and Hermione remain in a placid peace for most of the week, only interacting with a surface-level-politeness reminiscent of the bland kindness of service employees. Harry and Maya tread around them with caution, but eventually, their tense truce fades out into indifference, and being around the two of them often gives Maya a headache from the sheer tension in the air. The rest of the week passes by in a flurry of homework, early mornings and autumnal atmospheres — Maya swears she feels as though Peeves sprays caramel scents into the air whenever a student so much as breathes. Even Diana's shaky demeanour seems to soften as the days go by, and she finally lets Maya drag her out for a Friday evening walk when the October chill is relatively less punishing.
The evening sunset is a sight to behold, the pinks and oranges of the sky above them a pretty painting against a white backdrop. Faint streams of sunlight cut across the grass as Maya and Diana sprint after Church. The grey feline has broken free of his harness in lieu of chasing a bird across the field, his round body sprinting faster than Maya's ever seen as he lets out a hiss of determination.
"Get back here, you pudgy bastard!!" Diana screams, with a vengeance as she throws herself forward, her hands outstretched. Church yowls, shooting forward like a comet as Diana nearly trips over her own feet.
Maya catches her by the arm, glaring at the blonde, "Don't body-shame my cat."
"I'm not 'body-shaming' him." Diana huffs, rolling her eyes as she gesticulates the quotes with her fingers, "I'm simply making an observation."
"That is?" Maya pants out, picking back up into a run again.
"How exactly can something so round run so fast?" Diana swears under her breath as she almost trips again, steadying herself as she begins to run once more, "Is he aerodynamic or something?"
"Church likes to defy the laws of physics from time to time." Maya explains, as calmly as she can. The sound of yelling momentarily distracts her, and Maya flicks her head to the right to find that they're somehow sprinting aside the Quidditch pitch, her sneakers hitting the grass hard as the Chasers toss a quaffle to each other, "Felines need representation in science too, you know."
"I'll be the judge of — fuck!!" Diana screams. Maya looks up in time to see one of the balls hurtling towards Church at an alarming speed as it falls from the air. Her heart thunders in terror and she jumps forward, arms wrapping around Church's rotund body as she yanks him out of the way. Before her hair falls over her face, Maya sees the Quaffle miss her by inches, thudding on the ground as a large crack spreads over it's red surface.
Oh, these motherfuckers will have hell to pay, Maya smolders, venomously brushing her hair back as she snarls, ""Count your days, you idiotic son of a—"
"Look what you did to our Quaffle." Draco Malfoy's snap makes her jump in surprise. He's flown down from the air to glare down at her in spite, picking up the red ball in his hands as he inspects it. Maya looks up in the air, and annoyance twists inside her as she sees the emerald uniforms of the other players, characteristic of their house.
Of course it had to be the Slytherin team's turn to practice on the pitch today.
"What I did?" Maya fumes, glaring up at him, "You almost murdered my cat!"
"Animals aren't allowed on the pitch, Rajesh." Draco's tone is cool with superiority as he looks down at her, cutting a tall figure in his green jersey. The silky material clings to his torso with sweat, and Maya has to visibly avert her eyes in order to fight the urge for her cheeks to go pink, "Didn't you read the handbook?"
"That rule would apply if we were standing on the other side of that line." Maya snaps, pointing to the white boundary on the grass, "Maybe, if your teammates could actually concentrate, they wouldn't have chucked the Quaffle out of the field."
"That's funny from someone who doesn't even play Quidditch." Draco brushes back his tousled blond hair, and Maya sees the Malfoy signet ring on his finger glint in the faint sunlight around them. His tone betrays a hint of irritation, "Tell me, Rajesh, have you ever used a broom for something other than sweeping away that little shit's cat hair?"
"His name is Church, for your kind information." Maya's tone turns to ice as she protectively draws the grey feline closer to herself. Church barely flinches at their interaction, blinking his yellow eyes as he looks up at Draco with faint curiously, "And my inexperience is none of your concern. You're the one breaking the rules to endanger his life."
"Oh, don't be dramatic." Draco rolls his eyes as sarcasm drips from his voice, "Chairman Meow was miles away from where our ball fell."
"Please, you missed him by inches." Maya fumes, rage taking over her tone, "If something had happened, I swear to god, I would've—"
"Skinned the entire team alive and resurrected us all again just to hear our screams. I can tell." Draco huffs, looking down at the cat curled up in her arms, "He doesn't even have a scratch."
"You're lucky he hasn't given you one yet." Maya snaps, "Church tends to bite when he's mad."
"I can certainly see the anger in his face." Draco mutters sardonically, and to her utter bewilderment, Maya sees Church's eyes close in content as Draco gently runs a finger up his forehead, letting out a purr that normally only comes with her scratching behind his ears, "He definitely looks like he wants to eat me alive."
"You'd probably taste bland as hell anyway." Maya mutters nastily under her breath.
Draco's mouth twists into a smirk, and something dark glints in his silver eyes as they lock with hers, "How do you know what I taste like, Rajesh?"
It feels like all the breath is knocked out of her lungs with those words, and Maya falters, her mouth opening and closing as heat moves over her skin. Something low and slow twists in Maya's gut as the breeze ruffles a few strands of her hair from her face. The darkness in Draco's gaze sends a thrill down her spine, a cool electric shock that's all too familiar. Her pulse begins to thud harder as she sees his eyes briefly flit to her lips, and Maya's heart races as she remembers those brief moments in Umbridge's office — apples, mint and a hint of something else she couldn't place at the time. Something that's entirely his own.
Diana clears her throat, and the thread tying Maya to the moment instantly snaps, "You know I'm still here, right?"
Draco's gaze immediately breaks away from her own, and Maya sucks in a brief lungful of air as she hears a choking sound leave his mouth. "Diana."
The Hufflepuff narrows her eyes at her brother with her hands placed on her hips, and in another world, Maya would resist the urge to laugh at how rattled Draco looks at his sister's presence. But there's something hard in Diana's eyes that she can't place, and when her green eyes finally land on Maya, there's a distinct prickliness in her tone, "Are you two quite done?"
Maya clears her throat, fighting the blood rushing to her cheeks, "How long have you been standing there?"
"Far too long." Church chooses that moment to jump out from Maya's arms to patter over to Diana, though this betrayal doesn't sting as much as his affection towards the male Malfoy.
"Rajesh!" Theodore Nott's jovial tone makes her jump, and when Maya turns to face Draco, she sees him strolling across the pitch toward them, broom slung over his shoulders as he runs a hand through his dark curls, "Fancy seeing you here."
"Nott." The word leaves her lips in a nervous high pitch that's completely unlike her usual voice. Maya stutters, seeing Draco raise an eyebrow in her periphery, "I was just, um — I was walking my cat."
"Didn't know you had one." Theo walks over to Diana, grinning down at the chubby grey feline perched in her arms, "Hi there, little guy." He pauses, "And little Malfoy."
"Call me that again and I'll hex you bald, Nott." Diana snaps, rolling her eyes in distaste at him.
"There, there." Theo brushes it off, chuckling as he reaches out to pet Church's head. However, before Maya can warn him, she sees Church's yellow eyes narrow to slits, and he hisses, yowling at the Slytherin's touch and swatting Theo's hands away before he draws his body back into Diana. Theo immediately jerks back with a curse, "Merlin's beard."
"Church!" Maya admonishes as she immediately picks him up back into her arms. The cat pays her no mind, growling as he glares in Theo's direction. She laughs, nervously drawing him closer to her, "Sorry, I don't know what happened, he's usually so sweet—"
"It's alright." Theo nervously scratches the back of his neck, gingerly stepping away from her as he gives Church a wary look, "He's probably in a bad mood or something."
"Yeah, Theodore tends to have that effect on people." Diana glares in the Slytherin's direction, and Maya doesn't miss the acid in her gaze.
"Looks like the hair's the only thing that's changed about you." Theo's voice snaps in an acerbic way that Maya's never heard before, and he glares back at Diana in a way that unsettles her.
"That's rich coming from someone who hasn't matured since thirteen." Diana rolls her eyes at him.
"I .... didn't know you two didn't get along." Maya pauses, looking between them with confusion.
"We don't." Diana barely bats an eye in her direction, glaring straight at Theo, "But that's not news to Theo, is it?"
"Oh, get off your high horse." Theodore scoffs at the shorter Hufflepuff, "You're quite judgemental for a Hufflepuff."
"Judgement is different from observation." Diana's tone is tight in a way that Maya rarely hears from her, "Something that my brother clearly lacks considering that you two are friends."
"Diana." Draco's tone is warning, but she ignores him.
"It's fine, Draco." Theo claps him on the shoulder, and Maya swears she sees Draco stiffen just an inch, an unreadable expression on his face as he glances at Maya for a split second, "As if I care about Diana's opinions on my life decisions anyway."
"Decisions is a bit of a stretch." Diana narrows her eyes at him, "Considering that most of your time involves eyeing anything that remotely moves in a skirt."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Theo huffs, rolling his eyes.
"Don't you?" Diana's look is knowing, harboring something important that Maya can't quite unravel at that moment. However, when she sees the Hufflepuff's gaze flit to her for just a second, something heavy drops in her stomach, and an inexplicable dread makes her shiver. Suddenly, Maya feels like Diana's choosing her words against the Slytherin quite carefully, knowing more about him than she lets on.
"I hate to interrupt your crucial argument, but we have a match to practice for." Draco's voice can barely hide his disdain as he gives his teammate a hard look.
"Ah, right." Theo composes himself. He flashes Maya a smile, "You should come by the way, Maya. Gryffindor versus Slytherin, around this time next week."
"I'll see if I can make it." Maya tries her best to break the tense atmosphere with a nervous laugh, but it does nothing to break the scowl on Diana's face as she glares at Theo, folding her arms over her chest.
"Sorry about the Quaffle, by the way." Theo shoots a look in Church's direction, and the cat still glowers at him, yellow eyes narrowed and threatening, "I hope he's alright."
"It's fine." Maya's tone is dismissive, and she takes a step back, feeling as though she's overstayed her time on the pitch, "Accidents happen."
"See you around then." Theo nods before heading back toward the rest of his teammates.
Draco's scoff is audible to her from under his breath, and before Maya can give him a quizzical look, Diana clears her throat, "We should get going. It's going to be dark soon."
"Ah, yeah." Maya clears her throat, "I'll meet you at our dorm?"
Diana pauses, for a split second, and Maya sees a hint of annoyance in the Hufflepuff's gaze toward her. Then her expression goes mysteriously blank, and she sighs, "Yeah, sure."
"What?" Maya frowns, looking up at Draco as Diana's footsteps recede into the background.
Draco rolls his eyes at her, and for some reason, his tone is heavier when he responds, "You never cease to confuse me, Rajesh."
Before Maya can ask him what exactly he means by that, Draco jogs back over to the pitch, swinging a leg over his broom as he flies back into the air. As she runs to catch up to Diana, Church close at her heels, the sky darkens, a reflection of the current muddled state of Maya's mind.
Guess walks don't clear your head after all.
After Maya's done with some of her homework that night and emptied out the mess of quills and torn parchment at the bottom of her, she changes out of her so-called "workout clothes" (aka an old academy t-shirt of Nandini's and a ratty pair of leggings that have definitely seen better days) and into a cozy jumper that Mrs. Weasley had stitched for her last Christmas. The crimson wool of the material provides her arms some respite from the chill of their Gryffindor dorm around them — despite supposedly being one of the most advanced schools of magic in the world, Hogwarts still manages to have inconsistent heating in Gryffindor tower.
"Jesus." Maya mutters, the sound of running water from Diana's shower gently trickling throughout the room as she rubs her hands together for warmth, "It's like they want us to freeze to death."
She expects a faint chuckle, a nod or an unintelligible sound of acknowledgement from the redhead on the other bed, but Maya turns to find her mysteriously silent. Clary's pale fingers are fiddling with each other nervously, the anxious aura in her expression only exemplified by the blank way she stares up at the ceiling, "Earth to Fray?"
"If I told you I overheard something." Clary mutters, the sheets twisting around her as she turns to face Maya, "Something interesting. Would you listen to me without freaking out?"
Maya frowns, "Depends on what your definition of interesting is."
Some of the tenseness vanishes from Clary's emerald orbs, and she sighs, gathering her thoughts for a moment before speaking again, "Do you know Romilda Vane?"
The familiarity of that name sends a twinge of irritation through Maya, and she has to visibly resist the urge to scowl. Maya schools her face into a neutral expression, "Not by acquaintance. What about her?"
"I have Muggle Studies with her." Clary chews her lip in thought for a moment, "I heard her talking to her friend about the recent Slytherin party."
A sudden weight seems to drop in Maya's stomach, but a slight hint of confusion prevents the weight from hitting her entirely, "She was there?"
"Apparently." Clary sighs, "Maya.....I know you don't want to talk about what happened that night, but I don't think your drink wasn't the only one that was tampered with."
A cold sensation spikes through Maya's bloodstream, "What do you mean?"
"She — well obviously I couldn't hear everything she was saying." Clary rambles for a moment, "She kept saying that something felt wrong the next morning. She couldn't remember what happened or where she went. Her friend put it off to her just being wildly drunk....but Romilda kept saying she'd only had one shot of Firewhiskey and unless her tolerance is tragically low, I just— "
"No," Maya's heartbeat starts to thud in her chest, and she suddenly feels acutely aware of the shallow breaths with which her chest falls and rises, "It can't be."
Clary looks at her in concern, "Maya, I would've thought it was you sitting behind me if Romilda was a few inches shorter."
Normally, the insult would have Maya rolling her eyes at Clary's immaturity, but she can barely breathe as her chest seems to constrict with terror. Fear laces itself into her bloodstream, and her mouth suddenly goes dry. She inhales shakily, "Are you sure that's what she said? Positive?"
"I know what I heard." Clary looks at her with an equal measure of fear in her own eyes, "And it sounded a whole lot like you the morning after."
There's a palpable silence in which the weight of Clary's breakthrough feels crushing, almost suffocating in the damning fear that sinks it's teeth into her conscience. The gap in Maya's memory feels taunting this time, a reminder of what could have been taken from her in those few stolen hours. She puts her head in her hands, a gasp of disbelief leaving her lips, "I can't believe this."
Apparently, she's not the only one with muddled footsteps.
"You have to talk to her." Clary's tone is urgent, "This isn't something you can just ignore."
"As if that would ever happen willingly." Maya scoffs, "She's hated me since fourth year."
"Hate or not, she's the only other one who has a similar story to you." Clary sighs, "You two need to put aside your differences."
"Differences?" Maya laughs, incredulously, "That's what we're calling what happened now?"
"What do you mean?" Clary frowns at her quizzically.
"Clary, Romilda sent me an exploding pepper-up potion that gave me second degree burns all over my chest along with a letter that told me to 'go back to my country'." Maya snaps, pulling her top down just enough to expose the white patches between her breasts, "You think she'll miss an opportunity to hex me again if I'm close enough?"
The sight draws an audible gasp from Clary, "Maya, what the fuck?"
"All because the Prophet spread rumours that I was a gold digger looking to steal Harry's fortune." Maya sighs, "I doubt she's changed since then."
Clary's expression changed to one of shock, "I'm sorry, Maya. I — I didn't know."
"It's fine." Maya brushes the subject off, adjusting her sweater back to it's normal position, "I don't care anymore, but I doubt she'll speak to me in a civil manner even if someone paid her a thousand Galleons."
Clary chews her lip in thought for a moment. Then she hesitates for a moment, "What if I come with you?"
"You think that'll stop her?" Maya scoffs, "She did the Potion thing at the breakfast table, by the way."
"Dear God." Clary grimaces for a moment. She sighs, softly, "Look, I'm not asking you to minimize what happened. But you have to find a way to talk to her."
"Why?" Maya scoffs, "Isn't the existing target on our backs enough for you?"
"Look, you're the one who said that we needed to take extra precautions after that night." Clary presses on, "Romilda might remember something that you don't. It could help us figure out what to do."
The sound of running water from the bathroom cuts off, and Maya hears Diana step out of the shower. She clears her throat, signalling to Clary, "I think our time's up."
"Please, Maya." Clary grabs her wrist, turning to face her. Her green eyes are wide and pleading, "Promise me you'll try, at least. For me, if not for you."
The earlier part of the last sentence makes something go soft inside Maya's chest, and a twinge of pity runs through her at how desperate the redhead looks. There's a certain fear in her eyes that can't be faked, reminiscent of a mortal peril that's unspoken yet hangs in the air all the same. Looking at Clary is like having her younger self reflected back at her, scared and unsure in a world that will stop at nothing to drag her back to hell.
And so, with dread in her heart and a false promise at the tip of her tongue, Maya sighs, and just before Diana steps into the room, a word of resignation leaves her lips, "Fine."
let's ignore how horrendously written this scene is because 1am disha is not it. also this is going to be my last update for around 2 months because i need to solely focus on my exams in may which are arguably quite important to my future. hope to come back with a new perspective and more free time!
- xoxo,
disha
Chapter 66: Chapter 66
Chapter Text
October 2016
HER CONSCIENCE FORCES MAYA TO MAKE A MOVE.
It's more for Clary than for her — or at least that's what Maya tells herself. Having a civil conversation with the girl who once made her life a living hell is necessary for them to be able to watch for shadows behind their backs, to drive away the ever-present dark fate that seems to haunt their lives these days. McGonagall's in her classroom a few feet away, and the halls are almost clear since most of Hogwarts is still at breakfast. Maya can still hear the scratching of the deputy Headmistress's quill against other students' essays as she drags Romilda to a nearby alcove, the other girl sullenly following her as Maya quickly checks for onlookers before drawing the curtains shut.
"Why exactly did you need to see me alone?" She scoffs, wrenching her arm away from Maya's grip, as though her touch has burned her, "Want revenge for last year, do you?"
"Not all of us are as vindictive as you, Vane." Maya rolls her eyes, a scowl spreading across her face as her tone turns vindictive, "I have no intention of hurting you."
"Sure you don't." Romilda narrows her eyes at Maya, sending a flare of irritation through her otherwise composed expression, "Try anything and I'll hex you within an inch of your life."
"Ah yes, the perfect start to my morning." Maya scoffs, rolling her eyes. Her tone turns serious, "I know what happened to you at the Slytherin Party, Romilda."
Romilda's face goes several shades paler than normal — she looks as though the reminder makes her want to vomit. Then her voice becomes very quiet and shaky, "No you don't."
"Yes, I do." Maya sighs, "You and your friend were talking about it in Muggle Studies."
"You don't take Muggle Studies." Romilda looks at her with suspicion in her eyes.
"I heard it through the grapevine. Anyway — " Maya clears her throat, composing herself, "I'm bringing it up because...." She trails up, steeling herself, "I think the same thing happened to me too."
"And why should I care about that?" Romilda's expression turns forlorn, but the shakiness is still present in her tone.
"You shouldn't." Maya rolls her eyes, "I'm asking you because I need to know if you remember anything that happened. My mind is blank."
"I'm not having this conversation with you." Romilda starts, yanking herself up, but Maya manages to grab her by the elbow.
"Vane, please listen to me." Maya pleads with her, panic creeping into her tone, "I'm not going to use this against you. I just — I need to know if what happened to me could've happened to you too."
"Why?" Romilda scoffs, "It's a party. People get drunk, these things happen."
"You and I both know that neither of us drank much that night." Maya looks her directly in the eye, "Don't play dumb. Do you really want this to happen to another girl?"
Romilda pauses for a second, the curtains fluttering in the breeze as she stops, her expression unreadable. Then, she shoots Maya a glare of loathing, looking at her viciously as she slumps back into her seat, "What the fuck do you want, Rajesh?"
"Do you remember anything after your first drink?" Maya looks at her, curiously, "Any odd symptoms, weird things you saw...?"
Romilda sighs, leaning back into the wall. She pauses for a moment before speaking, her voice rough and uncertain, "It — it wasn't very strong, just pumpkin juice with a bit of Firewhiskey. I felt buzzed for a few seconds and then—." She stops.
"Then what?" Maya presses on.
"I blinked and — everything just went dark." Romilda stutters, "Like completely dark. I managed to stumble my way back to the couch but then I felt like I was going to vomit and left for some air. That's it."
"You don't remember anything after you left?" Maya questions, foreboding creeping into her tone.
"Cindy found me plastered near the greenhouse." Romilda snaps, some of the acid returning to her tone, "So no, I don't remember shit, Rajesh."
Fuck. Clary was right.
It wasn't just her.
"If you're done with your interrogation, I'm leaving." Romilda rises up as she slings her bag over her shoulder. The sound of students starting to fill the corridor begins to reverberate in her ears, and Romilda shoots her a look of hatred before she leaves, "Spill a word of this to anyone, and pepper-up potions will be the least of your worries."
Maya can barely formulate a response as Romilda stalks away, her heart racing with fear. What is she supposed to do now?
For the time being, however, Maya does nothing.
She avoids eye contact as Diana and her make their way up the Gryffindor stands, getting strange looks from her house-mates as their eyes land on the Hufflepuff sigil on Diana's robes. Maya supposes that they should be used to it by now, since there's no rules against intermixing students in house seats, but inter-house tensions seem to be on the rise lately.
"I can't wait to watch Theodore fall off his broom." Diana sighs in a dreamy tone resembling Luna's usual voice.
"Highlight of your day?" Maya questions, fiddling with her scarf around her neck.
"Of the week." Diana replies, letting her long blond-and-violet locks fall loose. It softens her sharp features, but gives her an air of maturity that she didn't have before.
"You really have it out for him, don't you?" Maya raises a brow as she takes off her scarf, rolling it before shoving the crimson wool inside her satchel.
"He's an asshole." Diana rolls her eyes, "I don't know what you see in him, honestly."
"I don't see anything in him." Maya's cheeks tint pink at the assertion, "Theo's just....nice."
"Theo." Diana's lips purse for a split second before she clears her throat, "Interesting."
"What?" Maya's brows furrow in confusion.
"Nothing." Diana's tone is dismissive, but before it can irk her, she speaks again, "D'you think Gryffindor's going to win?"
"I hope so." Maya laughs, nervously, "Don't know enough about Quidditch to guess, but Harry and Ron have been working hard lately."
"Ron looked so anxious this morning." Diana's tone turns concerned, "I don't understand how he has such little faith in himself."
"Stress can do that to people, Diana." Maya sighs, "Skill doesn't matter when you feel like your heart's going to jump out of your chest."
"Yeah..." Diana trails off, suddenly unfocused, and Maya realizes she's looking out at the pitch. A shock of blond hair and green Quidditch robes greets Maya's eyes, and to her surprise, she sees Draco Malfoy striding across the pitch, his tall, lean figure followed by Theo's slightly shorter one. The latter boy meets her eyes for a brief moment before shooting her a brief wink.
"Thought your brother wasn't supposed to be playing." Maya mutters, thinking back to Harry's gleeful words earlier in the day when he'd found out that Malfoy had gone off sick.
"Looks like he's changed his mind." Diana mutters, a hint of suspicion in her tone as she scans the pitch, "Vaisey's not here, though, so they've lost a good Chaser."
"I'm sure Ron will be happy about that, " Maya sighs, as the players assemble on the grass, "Oh, look, the game's starting."
Harry steps up to Madam Hooch, the referee, who's standing ready to release the balls from the crate. "Captains, shake hands," she proclaims. Harry and Malfoy stiffly walk up to each other, and Maya swears she sees the blond wince from Harry's crushing grip on his hand.
"Mount your brooms. On the whistle … three … two … one …" The whistle sounds, and they all sail from the frozen ground. Harry soars around the perimeter of the grounds to look for the Snitch and keeps a close eye on Malfoy, who zigzags far beneath him. Then a voice that's jarringly different from the usual commentator’s starts up. "Well, there they go, and I think we’re all surprised to see the team that Potter’s put together this year. Many thought, given Ronald Weasley’s patchy performance as Keeper last year, that he might be off the team, but of course, a close personal friendship with the Captain does help."
"What the—" Diana's brows furrow as she glances at the commentator's podium. Maya immediately scowls as she recognizes Zacharias Smith, a tall, skinny blond Hufflepuff with an upturned nose.
"Oh god." She groans, "Who thought it was a good idea to put him up there?"
Zacharias's snark makes the Slytherins cheer as he continues, "Oh, and here comes Slytherin’s first attempt on goal, it’s Urquhart streaking down the pitch and — Weasley saves it! Well, he’s bound to get lucky sometimes, I suppose …"
"What an arse." Diana mutters, from next to her.
Harry dives amongst the Chasers with his eyes searching all around for some hint of the elusive Snitch. Half an hour passes by rather quickly, and Gryffindor leads sixty points to zero, Ron having made some truly spectacular saves, some by the very tips of his gloves, and Ginny having scored four of Gryffindor’s six goals.
"That should shut him up, " Maya rolls her eyes, as Diana snickers under her breath.
This effectively stops Zacharias wondering loudly whether the two Weasleys are only there because Harry likes them, and he starts on Peakes and Coote instead quite loftily, "Of course, Coote isn’t really the usual build for a Beater — they’ve generally got a bit more muscle—"
Harry's vindictive annoyance makes him yell "Hit a Bludger at him!" to Coote as he zooms past. Coote, grinning broadly, chooses to aim the next Bludger at Harper instead, who is just passing Harry in the opposite direction. The dull thunk of the Slytherin crashing to the floor sends Gryffindor into an uproar of cheers.
"Go Gryffindor!!" Diana cheers, clapping even as her brother shoots her a withering glare from the pitch.
"No house loyalty?" Maya questions, the corner of her mouth turning up in amusement.
"What can I say?" Diana shrugs, softly, "Talent is talent."
It seemed as though Gryffindor can do no wrong. Again and again they score, and again and again, at the other end of the pitch, Ron saves goals with apparent ease. He's actually smiling now, and when the crowd greets a particularly good save with a rousing chorus of the old favourite Weasley is our King, he pretends to conduct them from on high.
The Gryffindors suddenly shout with anger, and Maya sees Theo collide with Harry hard, zooming off right as Madam Hooch's back turns around. "And I think Malfoy of Slytherin’s seen the Snitch!" booms Zacharias Smith through his megaphone. "Yes, he’s certainly seen something Potter hasn’t!"
Despite her hatred of Smith, Maya manages to catch the sight of Draco speeding upwards, concentration etched onto his features as the golden ball flutters above him. Harry accelerates as well, but he's not quite as fast, and soon enough, Malfoy's hand is outstretched, the crowd going quiet as the tension of the game rises.
"Oi, Malfoy!" Harry yells, and Maya hears the desperation in his voice, "Your team certainly has a talent for screwing things up, don't they?" His voice drops, "Guess it runs in the family."
Diana's face visibly goes white as Draco stumbles, the Snitch slipping out from his grip as he whirls around, "How dare you, Potter—"
And with that, Harry shoots forward, catching the Snitch in his palm as the Gryffindor team cheers in victory, "YES!!"
As he hurtles to the ground, and Madam Hooch's whistle signals the end of the game, Maya sees Ginny speed off, causing a look of confusion from Harry, "Ginny, where’re you going?"
Ginny speeds right on past them until, with an almighty crash, she collides with the commentator’s podium. As the crowd shrieks and laughs, the Gryffindor team lands beside the wreckage of wood under which Zacharias stirs feebly; Maya hears Ginny saying blithely to an irate Professor McGonagall, "Forgot to brake, Professor, sorry.".
Laughing, Maya nudges Diana, "I love Ginny."
"Don't we all." Diana's voice is cold as she stares forward, and Maya sees her brother storm off the pitch, emerald robes fluttering behind him as the rest of the Slytherin team follows, shoulders heavy with their loss.
The silence in the Slytherin locker room seems deafening as the team changes in thick air, no one daring to say a word in fear of igniting the sparks in the tense atmosphere around them. Draco can visibly feel the weight of the loss bearing down on them as he hastily pulls a shirt on, glancing at his left arm for a split second to check if the faint shimmer of the glamour still remains.
Even if losing to Gryffindor despite all his efforts to win feels like someone's set fire to his gut.
"They played dirty." Bletchley snarls, finally breaking the silence around them as he pulls off his shin guards, tossing them into a laundry basket near them, "There's no way the Gryffindors would've won otherwise."
"I heard that a certain someone spiked Weasley's pumpkin juice with liquid luck this morning." Pucey mutters, nastily adding to the conflict, "Explains the sudden improvement."
"There's no way Potter would've had the balls to do that." Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes as he shoves his uniform into his locker, "He's rash, but not an idiot."
"You'd be surprised at what people can do when they put their minds to it." Theo drawls, mussing up his hair as he slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder, "Or rather, what happens when they don't think."
His words are an intended strike, a fired weapon that pierces the faint veil of camaraderie preventing the blame for their loss falling onto Draco's shoulders. The shocked looks his teammates give each other only solidify the rage that's slowly building inside him. For all the years they've been on the Slytherin quidditch team together, Theo's rarely ever stepped out of line, never really blurring the border between slicing through his ego and playful ribbing. That used to be something Draco admired about him — despite his arrogance, Theo knows his place in the pureblood hierarchy that's governed every aspect of their lives thus far.
But today, a shift in the cosmos seems to have given him an opening.
Before Draco can retort, however, with a scathing remark of his own, Goyle beats him to it, "Weasley wasn't the only lucky one today. Scored Rajesh, did you?"
"Oh, shut up, Greg." Theo rolls his eyes, bashfully, and it earns a few 'oohs' from the rest of the room.
"Never knew you were into the short ones, Nott." Pucey tuts, his tone suddenly lighter, "Isn't she half your size?"
"Must make up for it in other areas, though." Crabbe smirks, the tone of his voice suggestive. Some of his teammates snicker conspiratorially, and Draco's grip on his bag tightens, knuckles turning white as something dark and angry starts to ignite in his chest.
Blaise's eyes narrow at Theo as he takes a sip from his water bottle, "Since when are you so open to non-pureblood relations?"
"Oh come on, Blaise, it's not the 18th century anymore." Pucey chuckles, softly, "A pretty bird is a pretty bird, regardless of what tree it came from."
"Besides it's not like he's going to marry her, is he?" Bletchely rolls his eyes, "Just a bit of fun on the side. Nothing too serious, am I right?"
Theo sighs, a smirk spreading across his face as he looks around at his teammates, eyes glittering with amusement as he sighs, "I'm not confirming or denying anything."
Something about the smugness in his tone does it for Draco, and he slams the locker door shut with a clang that makes some of the Slytherin team jump. The dark feeling roars in his chest as he shoots them a vicious glare, "If you're done, I have a word of advice. Maybe next time, you all can actually focus on the match instead of dissecting Theodore's love life."
Draco storms out of the room, head spinning with an anger he's never felt before. It burns through his veins, rises higher with the sounds of his name as whispers of "what a dick!" and "what's up his arse?" follow him out the door. His heavy footfalls echo throughout the corridor as Draco stalks to the dungeons, ready to toss his gear on the floor and throw himself into an ice-cold shower that'll quiet the incessant inferno that plagues his brain whenever that topic comes up, whenever Theo's face spreads into that one smug smirk and his hands curl with the urge to—
"Draco!!" Theo pants, running after him, "Mate—"
"Leave me alone, Nott." Draco snaps, refusing to look back in his direction as his stride quickens.
"The fuck is your problem?!" Theo sputters, grabbing his arm. His grip is tight, and the confused crease of his eyebrows sends a wave of irrational irritation through Draco as his fists clench, "Yes, we lost the match, but—"
"But what?!" Draco snaps, turning around. His tone is harsh, and Theo looks very taken aback for a second, eyes widening. However, Draco doesn't falter, "But what, Nott?!"
"What's gotten into you?" Theo scoffs, stepping back. The concern is palpable in his tone, but today, it does anything but calm Draco down, "I get it, you're mad we lost. We all are Draco, you shouldn't take it out on—"
"Oh, so telling you to focus is me taking my anger out on you?" Draco scoffs. He physically takes a deep breath, willing himself to keep his composure, "I don't care what you do outside of the locker room, Nott, but you should know how to separate your personal life from the games."
"That has nothing to do with—" Theo opens his mouth indignantly.
"So your sudden loss of ability to guard the Quaffle hoops wasn't because you were making eyes at a certain Gryffindor?" Draco raises his eyebrows.
"You do realize that you could've caught the Snitch if you didn't take Saint Potter's trash talk so personally?" Theo scoffs, and something ugly in his tone makes Draco's hair stand up on the back of his neck.
"The Snitch wouldn't have mattered if you could've mustered up the energy to score more than five points." Draco snaps, "Honestly, Nott, I could not be more disappointed in you as a Captain."
"I wonder, Draco." The acerbic use of his first name almost makes Draco flinch as Theo mockingly cocks his head to the side, "Is your problem with the fact that I didn't score, or who I managed to score?"
Draco's blood runs cold at his words, "What?"
Theo smirks, and it sends a soft chill down Draco's spine, "Are you sure the match is what you're pissed about?"
The innuendo in his words is clear, an undercurrent of snideness that Draco's never heard from Theo before. There's something he deeply dislikes about this conversation, this newfound behaviour adopted by someone who he's grown up with this long. Underneath the indignation, Theo sounds smug, and Draco has a newfound flashback of his ringed hand resting on Maya Rajesh's shoulder at the party, twirling a strand of her dark waves as she shifts in her seat.
Suddenly, something dark tightens in his chest.
"The only thing I'm pissed about is your utter incompetence on the field today, Nott." Draco snaps, hardening his face into a cool expression before he walks off, "Keep it up and you'll get cut from the team."
Draco swears he hears Theo snicker under his breath as he walks past him.
is the writing consistent? no. but is it still an update? yes
Chapter 67: Chapter 67
Chapter Text
October 2016
DIANA MALFOY IS MANY THINGS, BUT SHE IS NOT A LIGHT SLEEPER.
When they were children, Draco had often referred to her as a polar bear, both due to her fair hair and her tendency to hibernate as though it's the dead of winter all year round. Diana has rarely ever found herself disturbed during the dark hours of her slumber unless she's sick or anxious — the latter of which has been happening more often considering her current predicament. But when something makes her stir awake on the early hours of October tenth, a sudden dark fear twists in her stomach.
It's then that she sees it.
At first, Diana thinks it's a trick of the light, an illusion caused by her own overactive imagination wanting to keep her on the edge between paranoia and terror. The early morning darkness doesn't help her vision one bit, and she can't tell apart the dresser from the wall. But as her eyes begin to focus, Diana can make out a dark silhouette next to Maya's bed. It's almost rippling in the dim light, the edges blurred and distorted in a way that seems as though it doesn't belong in this realm. As though it's nothing she's never seen before.
Something instinctual in Diana roots her to the spot, and she finds herself frozen from fear. The soft snores from Clarissa's bed don't cause Maya to stir whatsoever. In fact, the warlock barely moves, her chest rising and falling in the moonlight as she shifts just barely, her onyx hair spreading out on the pillow like a glossy curtain. The shadow is barely discernible, and as it shimmers, blurring in the darkness until Diana twists, reaching for the wand on her nightstand to cast some light.
But when she furtively looks over her shoulder, heart pounding, nothing is there.
Diana stares at the spot for a few moments, chest rising and falling erratically. She scans the room, soft light emanating from the wand in her hand. But nothing remotely moves, and doubt creeps into her veins.
Maybe it was just an illusion.
Casting one final glance around the room, Diana pulls the covers over herself as she drifts back into a confused sleep.
"Maya?" The tinge of concern in Clary's voice makes the warlock pause, her brush stilling in her hair as she squints in the bathroom mirror, "Were you missing a necklace recently?"
"A necklace?" Maya's tired brain fogs for a moment as she thinks back to the few pieces she brought with her to Hogwarts, mostly inexpensive fashion jewellery bought on her last trip to Mumbai, "I don't think so."
"I don't think this is mine either." Maya hears the sound of Clary's covers rustling, and she ties her hair back into a less-than-perfect ponytail, stepping out of the bathroom as Clary stretches her arms above her head, "Diana?"
"Huh?" The witch sleepily rubs her eyes, yawning as she knots her yellow Hufflepuff tie around her starched shirt collar, "What'd you mean?"
"You look tired." Maya mutters, noticing the more-dishevelled-than-usual state of Diana's hair. Instead of looking artfully messy — in that punk rock, effortless way that Maya can never quite manage — she looks genuinely exhausted, faint dark circles marring the fair skin beneath her jade green eyes.
"Yeah, well—" Diana yawns again, rubbing her eyes as she groans, "I had a rough night."
"Diana?" Clary presses, gesturing to the floor. Maya's eyes follow her to the spot, and to her surprise, she sees the remnants of a silver chain on the floor. The metal glimmers in the morning light, a quality she'll never be able to afford, and there's a snapped cross pendant a few centimetres away, one that looks vaguely familiar, "Is this yours?"
"Yeah." Diana's face changes to one of bewilderment as she looks at the floor, "Yeah that's mine. I haven't worn it in years though."
"Yeah, I don't think I've seen you wear it since fourth year at least." Maya chews her bottom lip, sighing in thought, "How did it even end up there?"
"I don't know..." Diana furrows her brows, "I don't even remember where I put it before."
"I think I was the one who broke it." Clary smiles, sheepishly.
"What?" Diana looks shocked, "How?"
"I went to the bathroom just before Maya's alarm went off." Clary shrugs, "If it was lying there, I definitely could have stepped on it in the dark."
"It's silver, for Merlin's sake." Diana rolls her eyes at the redhead, "Your pint-sized self couldn't have broken it so easily."
"How would it have even gotten there in the first place?" Maya questions.
"I don't know, okay?" Clary throws her hands up in surrender, "All I know is that I woke up, saw a broken cross, and interrogated you both about it. Don't shoot the messenger!" She throws Diana a wary look before heading into the bathroom to get ready, "Jesus!"
"Dramatic little shit." Maya mutters, ruefully, watching Clary's retreating figure. There's a pregnant pause before Maya registers Diana's unnerving silence. She turns around to find the blonde staring down at the necklace. A moment passes before the Hufflepuff's face suddenly turns white, eyes sparkling with a realization that she can't decode, "Diana?"
"I have to go." Diana rushes out of the room before Maya can stop her.
The afternoon sun rays paint the Room of Requirement a soft golden as Draco wipes the sweat from his forehead, fighting the urge to sink down on the soft material of the couch behind him. He sniffs, drawing his wand once more, but his hands shake, and as he steps back, Draco trips over a stray blanket, and he nearly sends himself hurtling back to the ground.
Diana manages to catch him by the elbow before Draco breaks his head open on the floor, "Watch your step."
"Oh." Draco blinks, blearily, feeling the world spin slightly around him, "Hi."
"Sit down, you idiot." Diana rolls her eyes, and unceremoniously throws him onto the couch. She thrusts a dark mug of coffee into his hands, "Drink this."
"Thanks." There's a few moments of silence as Draco slowly sips down the liquid, the fog in his head clearing slowly.
Then he hears Diana take a sharp inhale of breath as she sees the pillows and blankets on the floor, "Have you been sleeping in here?"
"Only the past couple nights." Draco groans, stretching out. One of his joints pops, slightly, and Diana winces at the sound, "Makes working on the cabinet a bit easier."
"You look like hell." Diana mutters, shaking her head at him.
"You look worse," Draco retorts. A smirk spreads across his face, "Luna keeping you up?"
"Shut up!" Diana immediately turns a bright red, smacking the back of his head hard, "I just had a bad dream."
Draco snickers, "And you hoped for a good one, involving a certain— OW!!" He yanks back his arm, scowling, "What gives, woman?"
"Just wanted to shut you up, for once." Diana smirks, and her resemblance to him makes Draco do a double take for a minute.
Maybe he's not the best influence on his sister after all.
"Any progress?" Diana cocks her head in the direction of the cabinet. The mood suddenly drops.
"If you count making a green apple explode, then certainly." Draco says the words through gritted teeth.
"Merlin's beard." Diana mutters, under her breath as she eyes the cabinet warily, "And this has been happening since—"
"School started, yes." Draco rolls his eyes.
"Have you thought on asking Snape for help?" Diana quirks her brow up at him, "I'm sure he could prove useful."
"I don't want to ask Snape." Draco sighs.
"Then what about Borgin?" Diana presses, "Actually, Maya might have a warlock friend. I could ring up Magnus Bane and see if he—"
"Diana, I don't want to ask for help." Draco snaps.
The words come out a bit harsher than he intended, and Diana immediately recoils, scoffing, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"The more people that I get involved in this, the more complicated it gets." Draco stresses, turning back to fix a pillow on the couch as he gets to his feet, "Besides, I have time."
"Not enough!" Diana scoffs, "Draco, you can't afford to be prideful right now—"
"This has nothing to do with my pride." Draco bites back, straightening up, "Do you really think the Dark Lord would react well if he finds out that I can't fix the cabinet on my own?"
"I don't think he would care as long as you got the bloody job done, Draco!" Diana raises her voice, drawing herself up to her full height, "You're being such a prick about this—"
"I told you not to meddle—"
"If 'meddling' means saving your life—"
"I am not doing this for me, you don't understand—"
"What don't I understand, Draco?" Diana demands, stepping closer to him, "Huh? That we'll all end up dead if you fail at this task? That this is highly illegal and dangerous and your entire life will be ruined if the teachers get wind of your plans? That your life may already be ruined because the mark on your arm is a death sentence you can't shake? Tell me! Tell me that I don't—"
"All right!" Draco shouts, and Diana lapses into silence. He sighs, shoulders dropping in defeat, "All right."
"All right, what?" Diana raises her eyebrows, tone marginally less indignant.
"I'll.....ask for help." Draco scratches the back of his neck, "There's probably some way I can get around the..hiccups."
"Good." Diana huffs, satisfied. She eyes his fair hair in distaste, "And get some sleep while you're at it. You look like trolls have been tap dancing on your head."
"Little shit—" Draco rolls his eyes.
"Arsehole — " Diana fires back.
"Menace—" Draco mutters, nastily.
"Ferret—hey!" Diana ducks as Draco launches a pillow at her head, "How is that too far?"
"C'mere." Draco rolls his eyes, holding his arms out. Diana sighs, but she reluctantly hugs him, the familiar press of her arms around him a faint comfort against the incessant thrum of his anxiety, "I'll be fine. You don't need to worry."
"How can I not?" Diana sighs.
"I don't know, maybe ask Lovegood to—"
"DRACO!!" Diana shrieks, swatting his arm away as he snickers.
"Just...have faith in me." Draco sighs. A lump forms in his throat at the thought of the long road ahead, "We'll be alright."
"Will we?" Diana looks up at him, and despite the determination that had been there before, Draco can see a hint of fear in her expression as well.
"We will." Draco forces a smile, trying to hide the tremble in his hands as he swallows the lump in his throat.
"Do you believe in love?" Luna asks her, later that afternoon. The sunshine is soft and golden as it streams down onto the black lake, the dark water rippling and shimmering as it dances with the light. She twirls an ash-blond curl around her finger, looking up at the clear sky contemplatively.
A soft breeze ruffles a few strands of Diana's purple-and-blonde streaked hair as she laughs, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, like real, true love," Luna sighs, knitting her eyebrows together, "Do you think it still exists?"
"Depends on what you define as true love, I guess." Diana sighs, settling back on her elbows, "What's brought this on?"
"Yesterday was supposed to be my parents' 20th anniversary." Luna chews her bottom lip in thought, "I just — I don't know."
"Hey." Diana moves to put her arm around the smaller girl, wrapping around her shoulders as she looks down at Luna in concern, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, it's been years since she passed, Diana." Luna waves off the worry as she sighs, "I was just thinking....I don't think I've ever seen him fall for anyone since my mother. They married straight out of school, would dance in the kitchen when they thought I wasn't looking and all."
"Aww." Diana smiles, "Your dad's such a sweetheart."
"He is, truly." Luna agrees, her tone turning wistful, "Sometimes I felt like they were straight out a fairy tale, like a king and his queen. Even if their kingdom was a tiny cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole."
"It's the idea that counts, anyway." Diana laughs, softly, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone act like that in real life."
"Your parents never said they loved each other?" Luna turns to Diana with a puzzled frown.
"It's not exactly polite to show public displays of affection in pureblood circles." Diana laughs, nervously, "If they said it to each other, it definitely escaped Draco and I."
"What about Draco?" Luna quirks up an eyebrow.
"What about him?" Diana gives her a quizzical look.
"Do you think he's ever loved anyone?" Luna peers up at her with interest.
"Pansy? God no!" Diana wants to retch at the thought, "I would've never forgiven him if that pug-faced bitch became my sister in law."
"And Maya?" Luna questions.
"I haven't seen her date that much, to be honest." Diana shrugs, "If she has, I don't know about it."
"Interesting." Luna muses, for a moment, "What do you think love is, Diana?"
"I—I'm not sure." Diana pauses, for a moment. Something about this question feels personal, like it's probing deep into a place that she hasn't really visited. She thinks back to the wordless exchanges witnessed between Narcissa and Lucius, a quiet cadence that fell into rhythm whenever they assumed their places in front of society. Their union had seemed like one borne more of a partnership than due to any amorous feelings, appearing as a paired set rather than two blushing lovers. The few gestures they've shown each other have seemed perfunctory to her — a brief kiss on the back of a hand, one arm intertwined with the other's, a subtle adjusting of their rings as the society wives ogle the eligible bachelors around the ball. Those touches have never truly had any meaning to Diana, disguised as subtle hints of a claim rather than genuine, absentminded actions borne from love.
But somehow, whenever Luna tucks a strand of hair behind Diana's ear, it feels more intimate than it has any business being.
"I think being loved is being known." Diana breathes out, softly.
"Yeah?" Luna nods, encouragingly.
"True love, to me, is feeling safe." Diana sighs, "It's when you wake up confused in the middle of the night knowing you can trust the person beside you. When someone remembers the little things, such as how you take your coffee, or the fact that you leave the filling in jammie dodgers for last because it's the best part."
"Which is mildly psychopathic, but go on." Luna sighs.
Diana shoots her a glare before she continues, "I think truly loving someone is knowing that you can tell them anything and that they won't think less of you for it. That they'll have your back no matter what happens. True love means that you can trust someone with your life, because it would be an incredibly uneventful existence without them in it."
There's a moment in which Luna pauses before grinning, "Wow." She laughs, "You really are something, aren't you?"
Diana blushes, feeling her cheeks turn hot, "Is that a good or a bad thing?"
"You tell me." Luna rolls her eyes playfully.
"That definitely clears up all my questions." Diana rolls her eyes.
"Diana?" Luna questions.
"Yeah?" Diana quirks up an eyebrow.
"Have you ever been in love?" Luna looks at her contemplatively.
There's a few moments of pause in which it feels like Diana's insides have frozen up, and she feels rooted to the spot. Luna's hair glimmers like silk in the afternoon light, and it's as though her incandescent eyes sparkle with stars as she looks up at Diana. This moment between them feels fragile, as though a pin drop could shatter the warm feeling slowly bubbling inside her. But the cold wave of realization that crashes over Diana ruins her train of thought before it can travel any further.
"Diana?" Luna questions.
"I have to go." The words feel forced from her as Diana scrambles to get her satchel. Her cheeks flame with embarrassment as she nearly hits a branch with the force with which she swings the back over her shoulder. God, she's so stupid.
"Was it something I did?" The twinge of hurt in Luna's tone makes something painful twist inside Diana, and she looks up to find the Ravenclaw staring at her with a forlorn expression.
"No, love, it's not you." The words leave Diana before she can stop herself, "I just — I need to do something on my own right now."
"Diana, wait—" She doesn't dare to look back as she sprints back to the castle.
diana at any minor inconvenience: ✨ she a runner she a track star ✨
Chapter 68: Chapter 68
Chapter Text
October 2016
THEY SAY THAT EXTRAORDINARY CLAIMS REQUIRE EXTRAORDINARY EVIDENCE, but Maya would refer to her circumstances as vaguely plausible at best.
"What're you looking at?" Diana peers over her shoulder, curiously, as Maya's fingertips flicker through the photos on her phone screen from the past month.
"Just some photos." Maya muttered, absentmindedly, "They're not backed up, so I'm cleaning out storage."
"Interesting." Diana muses, "I have no clue what you're talking about."
Maya stifles a laugh, scrolling further, slightly shifting away from Diana as the lump forms in her throat. She's not lying, exactly — her storage is full and iCloud will stop backup if she doesn't buy more soon — but Maya isn't doing any sort of spring cleaning right now. She holds her breath as the photos flit back to September 17th. The night where everything — and nothing — happened.
At first, there's just mundane shots from the day. A red songbird on the tree outside the Transfiguration classroom, Snape's slanted handwriting decorating the DADA chalkboard, one of the peach Danishes that she grabbed for breakfast early that morning. They all paint a picture of a day like any other, a mundane autumn morning filled with classes and chatter. As she scrolls further, Maya sees pictures from when her and Clary got ready for the party, the blue silk of the redhead's top shimmering against her crimson waves as Maya lines her sapphire eyes with black pencil. The duck faces made in some of the selfies make her cringe, but her heart stops as she comes to the last photo of the night — the only evidence that she was at the party.
Maya immediately clicks on the photo and zooms in frantically, trying to make out any shapes against the blurriness. It's shaky, and the dark background doesn't help her vision. However, the neon green lighting allows Maya to make out a curly-haired silhouette with a pumpkin juice bottle in her right hand — identifiable by the plastic pumpkin top — and an amber flask in the other.
Suddenly, a few words come to her memory, "It wasn't very strong, just pumpkin juice with a bit of Firewhiskey."
"Romilda." Maya mutters under her breath, astounded.
"Hmm?" Diana looks up from her book, frowning, "Did you say something?"
"Oh, um — it was nothing." Maya waves a hand at Diana dismissively, squinting as she zooms in further. The girl is undeniably Romilda, but no other angles yield any clarity. Maya herself is absent from the picture, having taken it when she was cooped up on the couch with Draco Malfoy after Theo went to get her drinks.
Drinks. Wait —
Maya suddenly notices another phone in the crowd, recording in the same direction as her. As she zooms in, she vaguely recognizes the boy holding it. Tall, with straight black hair and high cheekbones, Maya swears she's seen him walking around the halls before, and the smile stretched across his face seems familiar, a butterbeer bottle in the other hand as the photo is paused, mid-laugh.
"Diana?" Maya turns to her, showing her the photo, "D'you know who this is?"
"The guy with the phone?" Diana squints, brushing her lilac hair out of her face — a faded result of her once-vibrant purple streaks.
"Yeah." Maya replies, chewing her lip in thought.
"He's Henry. Henry Zhang." Diana sighs, "Bit of a tosser, really, but he's a Hufflepuff in my year."
A lightbulb flickers in Maya's head, "Don't the fifth years have Herbology after lunch?"
"I think?" Diana shrugs, "I don't know, I dropped the subject anyway."
"Wait, you dropped Herbology?" Maya frowns. This is news to her.
"Don't you remember?" Diana raises an eyebrow, "I told you yesterday."
"Oh." Maya blinks, a flush of embarrassment creeping over her cheeks, "I guess I forgot."
"You've been a bit forgetful lately." Diana frowns, and Maya has the sensation of being looked through, as though Diana can see right through her.
"Probably just the N.E.W.T. stress." Maya shrugs, getting up, "Listen, I'm going to head to lunch and then go for a bit of a walk. You mind letting Church out for a bit?"
"Not really." Diana sighs, and Maya detects something else lurking beneath the surface.
"You alright?" She frowns, looking at Diana quizzically.
"Amazing." Diana clears her throat, "Go to lunch, it's already half over."
"Useless.." Draco mutters, throwing the parchment down onto the table, "Absolutely fucking useless."
He's tried everything on that goddamned list — every spell, potion, magical ailment. Draco's stolen and duplicated ingredients from Slughorn's cupboard out of fear of being caught buying his own. He's muttered magic in all languages, spoken in tongues that his speech seems to trip over with their ornateness. He's tried every solution Borgin recommended to him, stayed up at all hours of the day and night just for something, anything to work. But none of his efforts are coming to fruition, and with every passing day, Draco feels as though death is only inches away.
It's too risky to order reading materials of his own from out of school — the castle has tighter security than ever, and the risk of his mail being searched is much too high. Hogsmeade weekends have been scarce since Katie Bell's hospitalization and Draco can't risk being seen somewhere suspicious in case the incident somehow ties back to him. The guilt gnaws at him like a rabid dog at fresh meat, a sick sense of shame and horror at what his mishap had resulted in.
He can't afford any more of them.
An old slip lies to his left — Draco's not sure which year it's from. It's an ancient piece of parchment that grants access to the restricted section, Sinistra's signature scrawled onto the bottom. The names of the student and volume requested have been left blank — probably not intentionally, because who would leave something like this lying around? Although the timing is strange, it doesn't feel planted for him to find. So Draco still doesn't understand why he's so apprehensive about using the slip for his own ends.
Morality is a thing of the past — Draco knows that he can't expect his moral compass to remain unscathed when he's expected to commit murder in the next few months or so. But there's a sickening sense of dread sinking into his bones as he forges the slip to read his name with a flick of a wand, charming the date so it reads to a more recent time.
Later that day, after Draco's eaten lunch and looked through his accounts to see how much he can spare towards further tasks, he notices a discrepancy in his recent transactions. A discrepancy that has nothing to do with his own financial irresponsibility.
"Diana?" He muses, looking up at the sky as they sit together in the Courtyard later, "Have you been spending money lately?"
Diana stiffens slightly, her quill pausing over her essay, "What do you mean?"
"Nothing, just asking." Draco shrugs, unperturbed, careful to keep his tone neutral.
"Not really." Diana sigh, returning to her homework, "I mean, I bought some extra quills yesterday, but nothing other than that."
"Hmm." Draco bites his lip in thought.
Diana frowns, looking up at him, "What?"
"Nothing." Draco sighs, "I just don't think I've ever heard of a quill brand called The Young Woman's Guide To Courtship."
There is a pin-drop silence before Diana sighs, "I was going to transfer the money back today."
"I don't care about the money." Draco rolls his eyes, "I care about you."
"You don't need to worry, dear brother." Diana clicks her tongue, "I'm just doing a bit of research."
"Research?" Draco raises an eyebrow, "For what?"
"A.....passion project." Diana smiles, but it's tight and doesn't reach her eyes, "It's for Muggle Studies, so not something mum would really be fond of, so I used your account instead of mine."
"Really?" Draco purses his lips.
"Really," Diana laughs, but he can feel the nervous tinge in the lilting sound.
There's a pause before Draco replies again, "Alright....just ask next time."
"Sure." Diana turns back to her essay, and he sees something in her jaw clench as she resumes writing.
The afternoon light spills through the greenhouse windows as Maya quietly lingers outside. A feeling of foreboding creeps through her veins, and she sighs, swallowing as she tries to push the dread to the back of her mind.
Hopefully the ruse works.
A few minutes later, the fifth-year Hufflepuff's begin to file out of the greenhouse. Maya tries to remain as inconspicuous as possible, looking down at the ground, and shuffling her feet as she quickly makes note of the students passing by. Then, she sees Zhang shuffling along, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he slides his phone out of his pocket, flicking the switch at the side to turn it on.
Perfect timing.
"Hey!" Maya calls after him, "Kid!"
The Hufflepuff's brows furrow as he looks over his shoulder, "Can I help you?" His tone is curt.
"Listen, uh—" Maya pauses, panting as she rests her hands on her knees, "I need a favor."
"Which is....?" He raises an eyebrow.
"I—I was supposed to make a call right now." Maya stammers, "An important one. But my phone's dead and none of my friends have their own. Can I borrow yours, just for a few minutes? It won't take long."
"How do you know I have a phone?" He steps back, warily.
"You're holding it." Maya swallows, nervously, gesturing to his left hand.
"Yeah, well..." He trails off, narrowing his eyes, "No."
Maya's heart stops, "N—no?" she chokes.
"No." The Hufflepuff nods, stepping back, but Maya manages to grab his arm in time.
"Wait, Harold—" She tries.
"Henry." He glowers.
"Henry." Maya sighs, "I normally wouldn't press, but this is important."
"What's important?" Henry rolls his eyes.
"It's.....personal." Maya shifts, nervously, "Girl stuff."
"Can't you take no for an answer?" Henry sneers.
"I—" Maya begins, but he holds up a finger to silence her.
"I'm not giving a rando I just met my phone." He scoffs, "For Merlin's sake, I don't even know you."
"Do I look like I'm up to anything nefarious?" Maya gestures to her mismatched socks,
"You could be. Anyone at this school could be." Henry scoffs, "Have you seen what the past few years have been like?"
"What does that have to do with—"
"You don't go around trusting strangers. Not in times like these." Henry glares at her, stalking away, "Don't bother me again."
Maya groans in frustration as he walks away, running an anxious hand through her hair.
That went swimmingly.
i wrote this with -3 hours of sleep and willpower. beta readers are for the weak.
Chapter 69: Chapter 69
Chapter Text
October 2016
MIDNIGHT SILENCE CAN OFTEN RESULT IN FOND MEMORIES, and as Maya silently sneaks down the deserted halls, she hopes that this escapade doesn't turn out to be another nightmare.
She should be used to it by now. The eerie, unnerving silence that seems to pervade Hogwarts at night is something that's always disturbed Maya, despite the amount of hijinks she's gotten up to in the past. There's a certain warning in the air, a caution towards an unfamiliar path. It makes the hairs prickle on the back of her neck, and as she silently jimmies the library lock open, Maya swears that she feels eyes prickling on the back of her neck. She looks over her shoulder and sees nothing but the dark expanse of the castle's brick walls.
Interesting.
Maya tightens her grip on her wand, slipping into the dark deserted library as the creak of the door makes her cringe. As she expected, the library is utterly deserted, moonlight falling over the tomes of books and shelves as a resounding silence remains. Her footsteps patter down the aisle, and Maya conjures a glowing orb from her fingertips in order for light, not wanting to risk dropping her wand if caught by surprise. It takes a few moments before she sneaks over to the entrance of the Restricted section, kneeling as she crawls below the chain stretched across the entrance before scurrying inside.
Normally, Maya would have just put in a request for materials from the Institute, seeing as though their library is miles larger than whatever Hogwarts can give her. But unfortunately, the texts she needs go beyond the lowly clearance level she's been assigned, and asking for it to be raised would generate a whole lot of suspicious attention directed toward her. Attention that — considering what she's trying to keep under wraps — would derail everything Maya came here for. So now she's slipping around Hogwarts in the dark, trying to find a book that might not even exist on these shelves.
Ah, well. The internet always has free PDFs lying around. Maybe she'll get lucky and find a leaked copy from a magical library.
Something rustles behind her, making her hair stand up on the back of her neck. Maya freezes, whipping around as the light from her hands illuminates the corner behind her. Nothing but rows of empty shelves remain, but there's another rustle to her left, and Maya gasps, stumbling. "Who's there?" She calls out, her voice hoarse and panicked.
There's no answer, but from the corner of her eye, Maya sees a tall shadow move. "I'm armed!" She calls out, gingerly stepping toward it, her footsteps light and careful, "So unless you want your face burnt off, show yourself!"
Her heart thunders as a few beats pass, and Maya swallows as the figure shifts. What once looked like a menacing black mask is now a cloak, and it slips backward to reveal a familiar shock of blond hair. Silver eyes meet Maya's in shock as Draco Malfoy exhales, sharply, "Spare me the dramatics, Rajesh."
"Malfoy?!" Maya chokes, "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same thing." Draco raises an eyebrow.
"I asked first." Maya retorts, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I'm a prefect. I have every right to know." He scoffs.
"You're not on patrol." Maya scoffs, a realization coming over her.
"So?" Draco gives her an incredulous look.
"So.." Her footsteps revebrate in her ears as she steps closer to him, the gears turning quickly in her brain, "You're not supposed to be out at this hour either."
Draco's expression hardens, a certain wariness creeping into his expression, "Is that a threat?"
"Only if you give me a reason to make good on it, " Maya cocks her head to the side, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. There's something intoxicating about this control she has, finally learning how to grasp the upper hand in her favor.
Draco bites the inside of his cheek, gazing down at her for a moment. Then, a hint of amusement creeps into his tone "Touché."
Something about the way the expression rolls so easily off his tongue makes her stomach flip. Maya blinks, sucking in her breath, "Right." She mutters, her tone losing its earlier bravado. Maya looks over her shoulder, spotting the shelf she saw earlier. She strides over, examining the titles. The titles are twisted in spiked, gnarled font, some in languages she can't even recognize. Her footsteps patter down the aisle, fingers tracing the volumes, until finally, her eyes spot the one she needs. Bingo.
Just as her fingers close on the volume, a ringed hand grabs it from her fingertips. Maya gasps, turning around to find Draco perusing through the book with the utmost casualness, as though he's reading a fashion magazine.
"Give that back." Maya reaches for the book, but Draco pulls it toward him.
"I need this book, Rajesh." There's no humour in his tone anymore, the set of his jaw tense and rigid as he flips through. Maya sees the way his silver eyes scan, laser-sharp and focused — seems like her, he has something specific to look for.
"Don't play with me, Malfoy." Maya snaps, yanking the book back toward her, but it slips out of her hands.
"I'm not." His voice is like ice as his death grip on the book tightens, and Maya swears under her breath, cursing her lack of strength. Maybe she should have taken those Pilates classes with Izzy, snuck in some strength training while chasing Valentine's demon spawn around New York, "Pray tell, Rajesh, why on earth do you need a book on banned potions and poisons?"
"Oh, nothing" Maya grits her teeth, her tone saccharine, and they both stumble as she manages to pull the book to herself, "Just revisiting an old bedtime story."
"This is what you like to do before bed?" He laughs, incredulously, dragging the book — and her body weight — back toward him, "Fall asleep thinking of ways to poison your enemies?"
"You better hope you don't end up on that list." Maya hisses, stumbling backward as she struggles for the book again, "Give it back, you son of a — "
"No!!" Draco snatches the book from her, tiptoeing as he holds it above his head. A quirk appears at the corner of his mouth, "I didn't know I was ever off that list."
"I never said you were ― fuck!" Maya groans, swiping at the book as he dangles it above his head.
"You implied it." His tone of voice is teasing, and despite her irritation, she feels a familiar warmth trickling up her spine, "You really are uselessly short."
"Give me the fucking book, Malfoy." Maya hisses, her eyes narrowed into angry slits. She jumps, and somehow, a miracle occurs ― her fingertips latch onto the cover, and she yanks it from his grasp, "Aha!"
"Rajesh!" Draco lunges at her, but she managed to jump back. His face is exasperated, and he pants, "Don't― don't do this."
"Do what?" Maya dodges him again, nearly tripping over her own feet as she thwarts him again. Her eyes flit to the Library entrance, yards away, and she does the math in her head. If she runs fast enough ―
"Give me the damn book!" He snaps, launching his hands at her again.
"No!" Maya retorts, jumping back again, "I was here first, I have the rights―"
"Well I need it more than you―"
"What for?" Maya raises her eyebrows in question.
Draco Malfoy immediately pales, going white, "Can't say."
Maya chooses not to probe, jumping into the opportunity, "Great, I guess it's mine then!"
"Don't you dare," His eyes narrow in suspicion, and without warning, Malfoy grabs the book from her hands.
"Malfoy!" Maya hisses, pulling the book back toward herself,
"Rajesh!" He retorts, yanking it again.
"I swear to God―"
"Merlin's beard―"
"Let go, you overgrown prat!!―"
"No, you let go, you menace―"
"You're the one trying to steal a book from me―"
"I'm not stealing anything, I am simply trying to borrow―"
"You are literally trying to grab it from my hands― ah!" Maya shrieks, and her world falls backward. She stumbles over the strap of her bag on the floor, careening to the ground ― and dragging the book with her.
"Fuck, " There's a few moments before Maya groans, pained, her head ringing with the impact, and the book slips from her grip, sliding to the floor at her side. She shifts, testing the soreness at the crown of her head. Her eyes flit open, "What―"
Oh. Oh.
Draco Malfoy's arms are planted on either side of her head, keeping his frame balanced ― and way too close to her. His silver eyes stare directly into her blues with a mixture of shock and horror, breaths mingling in the space between them. This close, Maya can see the dark ring around the grey of his iris, light clashing with dark in a contradicting mirage. Her cheeks flame as she realizes the precariousness of her position ― his hips are slotted directly between her legs, and as Maya shifts, he groans, eyes shutting, "Don't move."
"Why?" Maya shifts, innocently, pressing upwards as she tries to wriggle herself back up, "Look, it's late―"
"Rajesh." He snape, his eyes flitting open. There's a darkness in them, a familiar, restrained expression that sends a shiver down her spine, "Don't move. You're causing.....problems"
"What?!" Maya sputters, "If anything, you're the problem― "
Then the realization dawns on her. Oh. Oh no. Oh fucking no.
The problem is down south.
Fuck. Maya lets out a shriek ― a mixture of exasperation and shock. She squeezes her eyes shut in embarrassment. Of all the things she expected to happen tonight, an accidental entanglement with Draco Malfoy was not on the list. The wizard in question seems equally as uncomfortable as her ― whole body rigid above her.
"I can't ― um ― " His face reddens with mortification, "I'm not trying to ― "
"I know." Maya interrupts him.
"This isn't ― um ― intentional ― " Draco's face flushes.
"Understood." Maya struggles to hold in her laughter.
"It's a biological response ― " He tries again.
"Please, just stop talking" Maya groans.
The corner of his mouth quirks up, and just when Draco makes a move to get off of her, Maya's blood runs cold ― "Who's there?" Filch's voice booms down the aisle, a resounding "meow" confirming Mrs. Norris's presence at his heels.
"Bloody hell." Draco mutters under his breath, as Maya's brain starts working in overdrive. Fear spikes through her, replacing the determined adrenaline in her veins at the beginning of this jaunt. If Filch finds her ― well, them technically ― in this position, she could be facing expulsion, outcasted from Hogwarts because of her indecent conduct. Conduct that would not help her current case at the Institute.
"I―I think." Maya stutters, struggling to keep her voice even, "I think we should―"
"Shh." One of his hands covers her mouth, and Maya gasps. Draco's eyes are urgent, narrowed as he searches for Filch's presence, "Stay quiet."
"Are you mad?!" Maya hisses, though the sound is now muffled, "If he finds us, he'll―"
"He won't as long as you keep your bloody mouth shut and don't cause any trouble." Draco glares down at her, silver eyes sharp and narrowed.
"Funny." Maya's voice softens, and she looks him directly in the eye, a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth, "I thought you liked my mouth."
For a second, her words seem to reckon him speechless ― Draco's expression softens, glare no longer as harsh. It's when his eyes flit down to her mouth, a hint of something deeper laced within the grey, that her stomach flips. This moment feels fragile, like a single movement could break the spell surrounding them. It's only when Filch's footsteps flit away that he releases her.
"Thank God." Draco breathes, falling off of her. He slumps onto the ground, covering his face with his hands.
There's a beat before she breaks the silence. "Biological response" Maya snickers, with air quotes, in spite of herself.
"Shut up." He groans, pitifully, and the tips of his ears turn red.
"You really are an interesting creature, Malfoy."
"Take pleasure in my pain, do you?" He scoffs, still not daring to look at her.
"Incredibly, yes." Maya fights a smile, "I'll be taking that." She grabs the book from her side and sits up, stuffing it into her bag.
Oddly, he makes no move to stop him, all the exuberance and fight from earlier seemingly evaporated, "Take the damn book, Rajesh. Burn it for all I care."
"Wounded your ego, have I?" Maya stops, surprised.
"Catastrophically." He quips, his tone wry, "I do not know if I shall ever recover."
"You'll survive, you dramatic prat." Maya sighs, as she gets up, silently slipping the book into her bag, "You always do." She mutters, quietly under her breath.
A ray of moonlight illuminates his spot on the floor, and for a moment, time seems to stop. His platinum hair set alight, grey eyes shimmering and the rings on his hands catching the moon's rays as he runs a hand over his face, Maya can't bring herself to look away from him. It's like an invisible yet damning string, demanding her attention despite her greater instincts.
"Don't count on it". Their eyes meet, and Maya shivers. A shadow falls over his face, a quiet darkness banishing the earlier mirth, the life that she's rarely seen in his eyes this year. And yet, it feels like he can see through her, a strange understanding laced into his gaze, something that's a slight comfort and a puzzling development all at once.
The spell is broken, though, once he shuffles to his feet, muttering something about the castle not being safe at night. Maya takes that as a cue to leave herself. As she slips back out of the library doors later, despite her attempts to focus her mind, Maya wonders if he's serving a penance too. The question is, what is it for?
This chapter was supposed to be a lot longer but for the sake of updates and my sanity I've cut it down to one scene. I'm in exam season right now so don't expect too many updates from me!
Chapter 70: Chapter 70
Chapter Text
October 2016
PEOPLE OFTEN SAY THAT YOU SHOULDN'T EVALUATE YOUR LIFE WHEN YOU'RE TIRED — that the blurry haze of exhaustion clouds lenses of self-reflection into those of judgement and anxiety. But there's no time like the present, and with the jumbled cataclysm of feelings warping her brain lately, Diana figures that any judgement is better than none. Even if the finality of a possible answer leaves more fear in her stomach than relief.
So now, she's sitting here, in a quiet corner of the library, reading a book she's charmed the cover of because her brother questioning the title was embarrassing enough. Although Diana knows his queries were only out of concern, she can't seem to shake the dark inkling at the back of her head, one that sends doubt and anxiety curling through her veins.
Objectively, she knows she must be overreacting. Sexuality is a spectrum — or so Diana has been told. She's seen her fair share of boys and girls experiment, pushing their boundaries with paramours to feel out where their own lines blur or end. Diana knows (at least on a surface level) that there is nothing wrong with questioning who you're attracted to. Feelings are never black and white, confusing blends of hormones and neurotransmitters that eviscerate the bounds of traditional language. But some part of her can't help but feel like this whole situation is wrong — like she's doing something morally unjust, even though Diana knows that letting her thoughts run in circles while she reads through a book on human sexuality isn't exactly hurting anyone.
Malfoys have always been secretive. Privacy is power, her dear mother would often remark. To Narcissa, emotions were an unnecessary risk, a troublesome facet of life to be dealt with away from the public eye — lest an unsavoury acquaintance try to use your own words against you. Diana has mastered the art of hiding her heart under her sleeve, compartmentalizing parts of herself in order to craft the perfect image. An image that yes, has altered considerably over the years, but one that she can't afford to shatter — completely, at least.
There's certain boxes stacked away in the far corners of her mind — different ones for different events. She's never dared to open them, their existence in fact being to lock away times that she'd rather not remember. But as Diana reads on, brain zoning out through the long paragraph, her mind wanders to that night in Maya's kitchen with...Jake? Or was it James?
Regardless of whether she remembers his slightly-douchebag-y name, the tension in the kitchen that night is something Diana can still palpably feel. She remembers the weight of expectation swirling in the air, the hitch of her breath as their eyes locked and his flitted down to her lips. A weight, that despite all the romance books and cheesy descriptions Diana's been subjected to, felt more like an unwelcome obligation than an exciting exploration.
Despite her inexperience, Diana knows that she'd had clear feelings for him at the time, the Shadowhunter's charm and self-assuredness appealing to her fourteen-year-old self (though she'd probably cringe in disgust now if he tried his questionable one-liners from back in the day). They were the beginnings of her first crush, blooming forth into a teasing and charged dynamic that she'd wanted to like, that she had liked at first. But the spillover of his interest into the physical had felt like she'd made a wall suddenly shoot up between them — the feeling of his lips nearly connecting with hers feeling wrong and unsatisfactory in all the worst ways rather than a break in the tense buildup to a possible relationship.
In the beginning, she'd chalked it up to her own unrealistic expectations: no one's first kiss would be sunshine and rainbows. Her reluctance to seal the deal felt like a product of her own inexperience and nervousness rather than a sign of a larger problem. Although some would chalk up her experience to past trauma, Diana knows that her relationship with men isn't the issue — that despite her sorry excuse for a father, she hasn't been exposed to the degree of male cruelty and violence that would lead to disgust at the prospect of intimate affection. Her pulling away wasn't because of a sudden flashback or fear-driven reflex, but — now that she thinks about it, — because she didn't want to kiss him, that the connection of her lips had never appealed to her as a sign of progression to something more than acquaintances.
As if by magic, Diana's eyes suddenly catch sight of a related section, and she feels a sudden spark of interest, and starts reading on. "Asexuality, at its core, is often rooted in this rejection of sexual desire, and is most commonly characterized by a lack of sexual attraction: for many, a deep discomfort with sex itself. Many asexual individuals find sexual situations actively unpleasant—sometimes even repulsive. They may recoil at the idea of sexual touch, avoid sexual content, or feel physically uneasy in romantic situations that turn sexual. This repulsion isn’t fear or trauma—it is simply part of how many asexual people navigate the world. For some, it means abstaining entirely from relationships. For others, it means carefully defining boundaries that avoid any form of sexual contact."
It suddenly feels like ice-cold water has been dumped over her — an abrupt, freezing sense of shock rooting her to the spot. Diana's breath hitches in her throat, suddenly lost for words. She thinks back to that night: the sudden way she pulled away from him and made a flimsy excuse to run back to Maya's room, escaping her own feelings as well as unpacking the meaning of them. Diana knows that kissing isn't inherently sexual, that it's often used to comfort, surprise or even just display affection to one another. But Jace's — now his name occurs to her — intentions weren't any of those things: not predatory, but still far from simply platonic. Suddenly, the label starts to make sense.
Yet, one piece of the puzzle still doesn't fit. The idea of "sex-repulsion" or "sex-discomfort" doesn't really describe her conflicting mix of feelings from that night, at least the bits she remembers. The disgust was there, yes, but it was more the suddenness of it, the shock that sticks out to her. She isn't repulsed by intimacy — the long, peaceful nights spent with Luna's head nestled in the crook of her neck are a welcome reminder of the closeness she needed this past summer. She just hadn't wanted it — a certain kind at least — with Jace.
As she closes the book, and students begin to mill out of the library, Diana's stomach is in knots — her mind swimming with more questions than answers. Her thumb lingers on the cover, almost searching for comfort, or some kind of answer. She thinks back to the times when she didn't wonder at all — when these doubts still remained in that box, pushed aside to live up to the sky-high expectations that came with being a Malfoy.
But this time, Diana knows something is different. This one feels like the beginning of something she can't un-think.
"So you cornered Henry?" Clary questions, the words slightly muffled as she takes a bite out of her sandwich at lunch.
"Yeah," Maya mutters, darkly, stabbing the last of her pasta a little too hard with her fork and cringing at the resulting clink.
"You used the urgent excuse?" She raises an eyebrow.
" Didn't work." Maya shrugs, her jaw clencing in frustration. She scoffs, "He acted like I was some sort of stalker."
"To be fair, you were following him — ow!!" Clary glares at her as Maya smacks the back of her head as retaliation, "What gives, woman?!"
"You're not fucking helping." Maya snaps, placing her head in her hands. She groans, "God, what am I even supposed to do now?"
"Any luck with that book?" Clary peers at her, apprehensively.
"The one I went through hell and back to get from the Restricted section?" Maya raises an amused eyebrow.
"Don't act like you didn't enjoy bickering with a certain someone there." The corner of the redhead's mouth turns up in amusement.
Maya's cheeks flame at the memory of that night, and she shudders, "Don't even go there." She clears her throat, mind drifting back to spending the rest of those evening hours poring over the thick vellum pages, "There was...something, alright."
"Oh, pray tell?" Clary perks up, interested.
"There was a potion I read about — Magia Saporia." Maya sighs, brows scrunching together as she thinks back, "It's mainly a type of tasteless magic suppressant, but it can be used as a sedative as well. The symptoms start with drowsiness, then brain fog, distorted emotional regulation: pretty much everything you would expect from a typical date rape drug." She swallows, a weight dropping into her stomach, "If the dosage is high enough....it can knock you out completely, even affecting memory in the long run."
"Oh my god!" Clary gasps, and Maya shushes her, rapidly looking around to see if anyone's overheard her words. The redhead's tone lowers, "That sounds exactly like what happened to you and Vane!"
"Yeah, well there's just one teensy problem." Maya rolls her eyes.
"What?" Clary questions.
"Magia Saporia doesn't have a long shelf life." Maya sighs, her shoulders slumping, "It has to be used within two hours of brewing, otherwise the entire batch will lose it's effectiveness. And the ingredients? Mireroot, Dreamstitch Bark, Basilisk Lichen — all of which are currently banned in the UK under the Ethical Substance Use In Alchemy Act."
"Jesus Christ." Clary mutters, leaning back in her seat. Her emerald hues nervously flit to Maya, "What are you saying?"
"Whoever did this doesn't go to Hogwarts." Maya sighs, foreboding creeping into her tone, "It would've been impossible for them to get all the ingredients, let alone brew and distribute the potion without being caught — especially with the tighter security this year."
"But...that could be anyone!" Clary scoffs, "What are we supposed to do, put out a casting call for shady bastards?"
"I don't know anymore." Maya groans, running an anxious hand through her hair, "Fuck, it feels like every time I get closer to finding out what happened, the truth slips further and further away."
There's a tense silence for a moment, the only sound around them echoing of cheerful dinner conversations and forks clinking against plates. Then Clary sighs, leaning forward on her elbows, "Maybe..."
"What?" Maya raises an eyebrow, taking a sip of water from her goblet.
"I don't know." Clary chews her lip in thought for a moment, "Should we...." She trails off, "Should we hire a hacker?"
Maya chokes on her water, fighting back a laugh as Clary rolls her eyes, "You cannot be serious right now." She coughs.
"Think about it." Clary presses on, "What if we got the photo by paying someone to clone Henry's phone?"
"With what?" Maya rolls her eyes, "Our sparkling personalities and the seven — no, five! — pounds left in my bank account?"
"Maybe Magnus knows a guy, " Clary shrugs, an embarrassed tint coming over her cheeks. She sighs, "We're out of leads, aren't we?"
"I don't know." Maya groans, running a hand through her hair in frustration. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, "There has to be another way out of this."
As if conjured by divine comedic punishment, Maya suddenly feels a familiar hand on her shoulder. As she turns, none other than Theodore Nott comes into view, a jaunty grin on his face as the mess of hazel curls on his head nearly falls over his eyes, "Evening, Rajesh?"
"Nott." Maya forces a pleasant tone into her voice. Great fucking timing. A strained smile stretches across her face, "How— how are you?"
He seems to notice her feigned veneer, "You alright there?"
"I'm just tired" Maya waves a dismissive hand in front of her face, "What's up?"
"Just making rounds." Theo smirks, the expression on his face ticking a small flame of annoyance inside her, "Seeing who's coming to the party day after tomorrow."
"What party?" Maya frowns.
"The Halloween party?" Theo raises an eyebrow, "The one that happens in the Room of Requirement every year?"
"Oh....right. " Maya laughs, nervously, "That's a thing?"
"Of course it's a thing!" He laughs, playfully swatting at her shoulder, though the force of it does make her hold back a grimace, "You planning to show up?"
"I'm not sure." Maya shrugs, clearing her throat. She wants nothing more than this conversation to end, "I have a lot of homework due over the weekend and I think getting an early start would be nice."
"You hang around Granger a bit too much." Theo rolls his eyes, amused, "Come on, it'll be fun. There are costumes — scary or sexy, dealer's choice. Everyone'll be there."
"Hmm...." Maya pretends to think, her eyes drifting to the Hufflepuff table. She spots Henry Zhang slumped over the table, the bright light of his phone screen reflected on his glasses. Something in Theo's words suddenly makes her falter, "Wait, everyone?"
"Yeah" Theo shrugs, "Slytherins, Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs — hell, even a few Gryffindors showed up last year. You won't feel out of place at all." He glances at Clary, the redhead's eyes narrowed in suspicion at his presence, "Bring your friend if you like."
"Actually, I think we'll—" Clary opens her mouth, but Maya beats her to it. She kicks the redhead under the table as a cue.
"Well then, if you insist. " Maya smiles, saccharinely up at him, "We'll be there."
"Great!" Theo smiles, stepping back, "See you tomorrow, then." He departs with a wink.
"Maya!!" Clary hisses, once the Slytherin's out of earshot, smacking the warlock's elbow, "What is wrong with you?!"
"I have a plan, alright?" Maya sighs. She looks over to Henry, brows furrowing in thought, "Think you can conjure up a pair of devil horns by tomorrow?"
"Oh, please." Clary rolls her eyes, "You can't seriously be thinking about going to that party. Not after what happened last time."
"Yes, well last time we went for an entirely different reason, " Maya's eyes narrow, "This time, it's for....research purposes."
"Research purposes?" Clary raises her eyebrows. She looks to the Hufflepuff, and then back to Maya in confusion, "What are you cooking up?"
A smirk lifts at the corner of Maya's mouth, "You'll see."
The late afternoon sun filters through the half-bare trees in the courtyard, dappling the stone path beneath Draco’s boots. Blaise walks beside him, hands in his pockets, unusually quiet for once. The wind picks up, tugging at the hem of his cloak as Blaise finally speaks.
“You know,” Blaise mutters, lowly, “Theo’s been...off lately.”
Draco keeps his eyes forward, although his ears perk up out of interest. “Define off.”
“He's quiet." Blaise clears his throat, "I don't know how to explain it. Observing things a little too closely, laughing at everyone's jokes, even if they're stupid.”
"He's been like that since we were kids, " Draco scoffs.
"I know, " Blaise sighs, “He’s sharp. Calculated. Always has been. But lately, it’s like he’s trying to be…. different. Charming, almost.”
Draco glances at Blaise out of the corner of his eye, "You say that as if he already doesn't chase anything in a skirt."
"True, " Blaise smirks. faintly, "But still. Something's not right, I can feel it."
They turn a corner and see Daphne Greengrass lounging against the wall, her fingers absentmindedly twirling her wand in her hands. Her eyes flit to them, the late afternoon sunlight illuminating her honey-blonde hair, "You two noticed it too?"
"Blaise has." Draco shrugs, "I don't know if I see anything different."
"You can't blame him for being on edge, you know." Daphne straightens up, "This summer hasn't been easy for any of us." Her eyes flit to Draco for a split second, and he freezes. But then she breaks away, looking at the ground, "Azkaban's not letting in blankets for his dad. Says it's too much of a security risk to have items directly sent to prisoners."
"That's mental" Blaise mutters, in disbelief, "What are they supposed to do, freeze to death?"
"Probably a better end than slowly succumbing to madness with the Dementors." Draco scoffs, but there's no humour in his tone. He forces himself to not think of Lucius's pale hands wrapped around the cage's steel bars, white-knuckled as the guilty verdict was delivered that blistering summer day.
"At least Nott Sr's trial wasn't public." Blaise clears his throat, noticing Draco's discomfort, "That spared him some stress."
"Still," Daphne sighs, walking with them now, "It must be difficult, considering his father was the first one caught."
"What?" Draco's head snaps to Daphne in shock.
"You didn't know?" Daphne looks at him in surprise, "Nott Sr. was stunned right outside the Hallway of Prophecies. Barely had any time to take out his wand, from what I heard."
"Christ." Draco mutters, "I can't even imagine."
"I don't blame you for missing the signs." Blaise shrugs, as they pass a crumbling statue, "You had enough on your own plate, no?"
A flicker of heat curls in Draco’s gut — guilt gnawing at his stomach, sharp and uninvited. He remembers the tension in Umbridge's office that day, the fear straightening Maya's shoulders as she stiffened in terror against him. Something in him sunk at the way her arms seemed to shiver in fear, the weight of what she'd been trying to do before caught finally hitting her. He remembers the way his fingertips brushed against hers, first as a gesture of comfort. Then rush of adrenaline hitting, the panic clawing at his throat, and suddenly, he'd slipped his wand into her hand, squeezing it for a measure of reassurance.
Draco didn't fully know what he was doing when he gave her his wand. He still doesn't. He's positive no one saw that moment, not Theo or Blaise. But now having to face the consequences of his actions, Draco feels a little disgusted with himself for how little regret seems to bloom at the memory of his actions that day.
“Unlucky,” He mutters, non-committally.
Blaise glances at him, an unreadable expression on his face, "Right". Draco chooses not to pry into his friend's tone, keeping his gaze hardened ahead, but his spine prickles with dread when Blaise speaks again, hushed, "Speak of the devil."
Theo's perched next to a nearby fountain, a half-eaten clementine in his hand while his other plays with the residual water droplets drying when he sees them. His smirk doesn't fully reach his eyes, "You three look chummy."
"Library was too noisy to study, " Daphne sighs, "Too many damn Ravenclaws."
"Scared they might ask you questions you can't answer?" Theo raises a brow, sardonically, but his words are laced with a biting subtext.
Daphne bristles, "No, I just....fancied a walk."
"Hm." Theo mutters, and there's an uncomfortable silence. His posture is casual, the set of his shoulders unassuming, but Draco now knows better — Theo's hands curl into tense fists against the brick of the fountain, rings scraping against the cement.
Blaise is the first to break it, "You still throwing that Halloween thing, mate?"
"What?" Theo jerks, caught off guard, then seems to remember himself, "Ah, yeah. Turnout seems alright so far."
"I've been working on my mask for weeks." Daphne smiles, a kind lilt in her voice, "Those artsy bitches won't know what hit them."
"Nice." The corner of Theo's mouth turns up, "I'm excited to see people's masks too." He finally looks up, eyes flitting to Draco for a split second, "On top of the ones they already wear, of course."
There's silence for a moment, Daphne casting a befuddled glance at Draco out of the corner of her eye. But Draco clears his throat, unwilling to give in, "Awfully philosophical about this, aren't you?"
"What can I say? " Theo shrugs, "I've always been a man of the arts."
"Please." Blaise scoffs, humor in his tone, "I haven't seen you crack open a single book this year."
"Your eyes doth decieve you, Blaise." Theo sighs, stretching as he gets up, "I'd better go, it's getting a bit late."
"See you there then, mate?" Blaise raises an eyebrow as Theo walks off.
"Definitely." The brunet turns back, brushing his curls out of his eyes as he scans over the three of them, "And guys? Don't forget to remove your costumes at the end of the night." His gaze finally lands on Draco, and a small smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, "Some of them are harder to take off."
Draco knows, right then, what this is all about. All the false bravado, subtle insults and loaded comments — they're a warning, laced with an unspoken threat that makes something in his stomach turn. Theo knows something, something that he's almost holding over him. The question is — what is he planning to do with it?
"You alright, Draco?" Daphne's brows furrow as she glances at his stillness.
"Yes." Draco snaps out of his daze, fighting to keep his voice even as he clears his throat, "I'm just fine."
look at me ignoring my responsibilities again to come write lmaoo.
Chapter 71: Chapter 71
Chapter Text
October 2016
THAT NIGHT, it happens again.
Diana's eyes snap open, thoughts bleary and disjointed in the dead of night. She stirs, groaning at whatever's woken her up at this godforsaken hour. Her sound of discomfort pierces the still, quiet atmosphere in their Gryffindor triple, swirling around her in a way that makes the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. She didn't expect to hear an orchestra or anything — it's probably three or four in the morning, by her semi-accurate estimation — but the room is almost too quiet, the stillness weighing down with an intensity that makes something in Diana's consciousness flicker with suspicion.
She props herself up on her elbows, blearily rubbing at her eyes. Maybe it was just the wind, Diana thinks to herself, slowly cracking her eyes open as a yawn escapes her lips—
What she sees next sets free a choke of terror from her mouth.
Because it's back — that thing, that entity from a few fortnights ago. She can remember it's rippling black edges, like a wound in the fabric of something not of their world. Just like before, it looms over Maya's bed, Diana not daring to breathe as the other girl's breaths rise and fall, unaware of the danger a just a few centimetres away. She freezes, heart thudding rapidly as the figure makes no move to attack. Watching, waiting — for what, she doesn't know.
Just as Diana reaches for her wand, she hears a whimper that makes her freeze. Maya stirs in her sleep, her face twisting in pain as another sharp, desperate sound escapes her lips. Diana watches in horror as Maya's hands twitch on top of the sheets, grasping at them rapidly before twisting as another pained choke escapes her lips, "No — no — stop!!"
"Maya?" Diana's voice rapidly grows in pitch, no longer able to hide in fear.
"Please," Maya wheezes, nearly thrashing now, "Just stop — get off —!"
Diana doesn't wait another moment, flicking her wand in a fluid motion as she aims a curse directly at the dark figure, "Expulso!".
The blast of raw magic jolts through the night like a crack of a whip and Maya's eyes snap open, jolting upright. But before the warlock can catch sight of it, the figure vanishes. Making no moves to duck or hide, it just — dematerializes. Fading away as though it was never there. As if it never disturbed their peace.
The sheen of sweat covering Maya's panting form is the only indicator that their intruder wasn't a figure of Diana's imagination. All color is gone from the warlock's face, nearly white with terror as she gasps out, "What — what was that?"
"I thought I saw something, " Diana's voice is merely a hushed whisper now, barely daring to believe herself, "Something next to your bed."
"What?" Maya's eyes grow wide with fear. Her hand moves in a practice flourish, "Homenium Revelio."
The spell casts a burst of light across the room, causing Clarissa to stir in her bed, her red curls nearly falling over her face as she raises her arms to combat the brightness. But oddly enough, there's no answering hum. No confirmation of Diana's worst fears, that someone broke into their dorm to do god knows what. But she still can't shake the sense of dread deep in her bones, the feeling that something is wrong — though she has no clue what.
"There's no one here." Maya whispers, her teeth catching onto her bottom lip as though she barely believes herself.
"I swear — I — " Diana's voice catches, a lump of doubt falling into her tone, "I know I saw something. It was like a shadow...." She pauses, swallowing, trying to glean any identifying details from her sleep-deprived memories, "I don't know how to — "
"The alarms." Clarissa's soft groan breaks Diana out of her trance.
"What?" She turns, finding the redhead sitting up against her headboard, blinking as she sighs.
"The alarms built into the wards." Clarissa sighs, clearing her throat, "They would've started screaming if anyone had broken in — hell, probably woken up half the castle."
"I didn't hear anything," Maya mutters, faintly, "Just Diana's curse."
"I don't understand, " Diana's tone grows fearful, "It was right there." She gestures to the now vacant spot at toward Maya's nightstand, "I wish I could explain it."
There's a tense silence for a moment as the three of them struggle to grasp it — the sinister energy swirling throughout the room this cold night. Then, Maya clears her throat, "Maybe it could've been a ghost."
"I don't know..." Diana trails off. She sighs, "I don't — it didn't look like a person."
"What?" The redhead's eyes grow as wide as saucers as she gasps, "But — that doesn't make sense."
"I know." There's an edge of irritation in Diana's tone, one she doesn't miss as Clarissa's eyes meet Maya's in a pointed look. There's a moment-long glance shared between them, one that speaks of a shared camaraderie — something that would normally make Diana a bit jealous, but in the darkness, looks almost secretive.
Suddenly, Diana wonders if the two of them know something she doesn't.
The moment is broken as Maya sighs, settling back onto her pillow, "I'll call Alec in the morning, then." She runs a tired hand through her hair, yawning, "See if we can add any modifications to the wards to keep out spirits."
"Yeah, I don't particularly want another Conjuring visit again." Clary sighs, curling back into her sheets.
As the three of them settle back into their beds, Diana doesn't let slumber take her immediately. As Clarissa shifts under the covers, muttering something about banishing the ghosts herself, and Maya buries her face into the pillows, hair still sticking to her damp forehead, Diana's eyes remain rooted to that spot onto the floor.
The silence seems to close in on her now, almost mocking in it's normalcy. She listens to the quiet, not just the silence in the room, but the quiet between her friends. The undercurrent of something not quite in the open, something that's been stirring the pit of suspicion in her stomach ever since the beginning of this term.
Somehow, Diana knows that this occurrence isn't the end, that whatever just occurred on this cold October night is the beginning of something else. Something that could unravel the ties holding together a parcel none of them want opened.
"You think you're being haunted?!" Alec's tone is laced with disbelief from the other end of the line, "How is that even possible?"
"Look, I don't know, okay?" Maya groans, curling up on her freshly made covers with her back to the headboard, "I haven't exactly been running around doing seances or anything."
"Still, it's unlikely." Alec sighs, and Maya can tell he's chewing his lip in thought even though he's not in front of her, "Are you sure that someone didn't actually break in last night?"
"Yes!" Maya exclaims, throwing her hands up in frustration, "The charm didn't detect anything and neither did our wards — which, by the way, should work against midnight hauntings."
"Everything's still in place?" Alec questions further, "Nothing's been stolen or moved?"
"Exactly as it was." Maya sighs, "Not a single feather has been ruffled."
"And you're sure that you actually saw something?" Alec questions, with a hint of skepticism in his tone.
"Well — " Maya backstracks. She clears her throat, "Technically, I wasn't the one who saw it. Diana was. But..." She swallows, "Alec, I felt something — something not right."
"What do you mean?" Maya detects a hint of concern in his tone.
"Look..." Maya hesitates for a moment, her memories from a few hours before hazy and unfocused in the morning light. She remembers flashes of the images playing behind her sleeping eyes, skipping through memories and moments like a video playing at twice the speed. But the palpable fright is what sticks out to her the most — the unadulterated fear and terror sinking into her bones on that day in the locker room slowly ratcheting up before violently thrusting her awake, "I had a nightmare."
"Okay." His tone borders on uneasy, "Are you — are you alright? I can see if Jem has any open slots — "
"No, no. It wasn't about the cup." Maya sighs, dread sinking into her bones. She slows, for a moment, gathering the few slivers of strength she can manage this cold morning to say the words out loud. She gulps, "I dreamt about what happened at Constance."
"Oh." There's a soft pause from the end of the line, then Alec seems to register her words, "Oh. Well that's — that's not good."
"Alec, you have to understand." Maya's tone is soft, but there's a hint of a plea, "I've had nightmares before, but nothing — nothing like that. I was so scared, it felt — it felt like something was almost feeding the fear. I haven't even thought about what happened in months."
"Yeah, I know." Alec's tone is soft, "It's sudden for you."
"Diana said she saw it leaning over me — right next to my bed." Maya stutters, her voice failing her. She takes a deep breath, struggling to ground herself before continuing, "I just — I don't know what to do."
"Alright, well...." Alec sighs, pausing for a few moments, "I'll look through the London Institute's occult archives to see if there's anything of use. A salt circle might help in the meantime — with feeling a bit safer, that is."
"I guess, " Maya sighs, a hint of uncertainty in her tone, "Do you think — do you think we can stop this from happening again?"
"Maya." A hint of humor creeps into Alec's tone, "You survived a face-to-face encounter with Valentine this summer. If you can do that, you can do anything."
"Yeah," Maya bites her lip in thought for a moment before a forced laugh breaks from her throat, "Yeah — um, you're right. This probably isn't anything major."
"Hopefully." Alec swallows from the other end of the line, before clearing his throat, "Look, I have to be in a meeting soon, but give Clary my regards, okay? And take care of yourself." His tone softens, "The last thing you need right now is extra stress."
"Yeah, yeah I will." Maya clears her throat, sitting up straighter.
The line eventually clicks after a few pleasantries, but the terror and doubt that rooted her awake the previous night still feels like it's coursing through Maya's veins as she sets her phone back onto her nightstand. In the morning light, her dorm doesn't look like anything out of the ordinary — Clary's bed messy and unmade while Diana's new polaroid camera is stacked neatly next to a box of film strips on her nightstand. But something in the air is different, something that makes the hairs on the back of Maya's neck stand on end. There's a certain foreboding swirling in the air, a weight in her stomach that hasn't left ever since she shot awake.
Maya knows that logically, if someone wanted to hurt the three of them — they would've already done it by now. She's reasoned that it was probably a stray spirit wandering in last night, the usually recognisable silhouettes of Rowena Ravenclaw or Nearly Headless Nick blurred by the hazy darkness that had settled over their dorm. But a part of her brain still nags despite her half-hearted assurances. Maya's stomach drops as her mind flits back to the hazy memories of that fateful party months before — the disconnect between her groggy awakening and sober dancing sending a wave of nauseating fear through her veins.
She claps her hand over her mouth with a stifled gasp. Oh god, what if she — what if she unwittingly invited something in that night? Stumbled upon a vengeful poltergeist or bloodthirsty entity in the space of time between the party and her dorm?
Shadowhunters have a hard rule concerning the afterlife — the dead shall stay dead. Despite Valentine's megalomaniac tendencies, Maya knows it wouldn't make sense for him to send something as innocuous as a ghost their way. And even in the rare chance that he already has, what purpose would it serve?
Logically — her train of thought is senseless, but Maya knows better than to rule out all other possibilities. She's seen enough of this castle to know that at Hogwarts, anything is possible. She can't afford to let something like this happen — derail the plan that's holding the bleak remnants of whatever future Clary and her have left. On some level, Maya knows that she has to get to the bottom of this — not just for her sake, but for the stakes concerning everyone else she holds dear.
Just before she can reach for the small jar of holy salt Magnus placed in her handbag before the train ride to Hogwarts, a resounding hiss from Church makes her jump. Maya looks down to see the chubby feline's body jutting back, his ears nearly flat against his head as an unsettling growl emanates from him once more.
"Church?" Maya's brows furrow, "What's wrong, sweet boy?"
Church doesn't falter at the sound of her voice, yowling angrily as he swats at the air. Maya's heart hammers as she scans the sharp arch of his spine, the rigidness of his tail, studying the feline's frame to discern the cause of his agitation. It's then that her eyes finally lock with his own, before darting to a certain spot on the floor near the edge of her bed.
The same spot that Diana had shakily pointed to last night.
No. A chill freezes over Maya's entire body, her breath coming in sharp gasps as Church's growls reach a new pitch, the hissing sound nearly filling the room. Something almost seems to ripple in the air, a subtle shift that makes her blood run cold. She can't put her finger on it, can't articulate the near-paralyzing terror it brings forth ― but as Maya sees the yellow of Church's eyes nearly obscure his pupils in rage, she knows that somehow, he can.
Suddenly, a sharp ringing sound fills the room and Maya jolts violently, nearly falling off of the bed. Her eyes flit to the alarm clock on her nightstand and subsequently widen as she realizes the time. 9:35. Five minutes past the time she was supposed to be in class. A sick feeling of guilt seeps into her stomach as Maya glances over to Church's rotund form on the floor, gnawing her lip in thought.
If that entity ― that thing ― is still lingering in her room, there's no way in hell that she can live with leaving Church alone with it. So, in a fit of panic-induced quick thinking, Maya yanks her tote bag off of her desk, scoops Church off of the floor, and deposits him inside, ignoring the feline's disgruntled meows as she scurries out the door.
There's a few moments after she leaves where the room is still, the air quiet as usual. The sunlight pours in through the open windows as the dust settles, and in that split second, something shimmers in the air next to Maya's bed. The faint outline of the being's form is still for a moment, waiting, watching ― for what, only it knows.
Then suddenly, the crackling sound of dark magic fills the room, and the curtains slam shut on their own accord, submerging the three beds in cloaking darkness.
Although Snape's potioneer abilities are unmatched, Diana's pretty sure that whatever concoction he's just given her would better pass for poison over tea.
"I-It's good, "Diana chokes out, struggling to stop her eyes from watering as her throat burns from the hot liquid. The pungent taste of burnt tea leaves and strong ginger nearly makes her gag, but she forces herself to take another sip for courtesy's sake, "A very...punchy blend."
"It's the orange peel." Severus nods, completely unaffected as he sips his own cup, "Gives it a little bit of a kick."
"Ah." Diana nods, clueless as to what he means, "Orange peel ― yes."
The late afternoon sun pours in through the windows of Severus's office, a contrast to the usual somber darkness of the room. It casts light over the vials and sconces decorating the walls, the long shelves filled with different potion ingredients, tintcures and tisanes. Ordinarily, Diana wouldn't find herself inclined to open up in a teacher's office. In fact, she's rarely ever been in one ― unless it's to argue about being barely one percentage point from an A on her astronomy paper (thanks a lot, Professor Sinistra).
But apart from having terrible taste in tea and being utterly allergic to cracking a smile, Severus is much more to her than your run-of-the-mill potions teacher. In fact, he's her and Draco's godfather, having bought them their first toy potion sets and chased after her pint-sized menace of a brother as he zoomed away on her toddler broom. So considering the fact that her sorry excuse for a sperm donor is languishing in Azkaban and that her brother might be headed in the same direction (not to mention that her mother's Victorian sensibilities would be scandalized by the nature of this conversation if she even thought about this topic near the woman), Diana supposes that Severus might be one of the few options she has to help articulate the mess going on in her head.
"So, " Snape sits up, clearing his throat, "What seems to be the matter?"
"I just..." Diana pauses, searching for the right words. Her hands tighten around her mug, "I wanted to ask you something." She finishes, lamely.
"What?" He raises a thick eyebrow, expression impassive, "If you've spilled Belladonna essence on your sweater again―"
" 'Wash the spot for five minutes with steaming water and goat's milk soap'. " Diana recites, verbatim, nearly rolling her eyes at his assumption, "As much as I detest your pitiful faith in my laundry abilities, this question is....personal."
"Oh," Snape seems to pause for a moment, a hint of surprise flickering across his features, "How so?"
"I just wanted to know if..." Diana pauses, struggling to articulate the confusion swirling around in her mind, "If you've ever felt.....different."
She can see the pinch of his brows together, the way his dark eyes take on a confused glint before he answers, slowly, "In what way, exactly?"
"I feel like..." Diana chews her lip slowly, swallowing down her fear, "I feel like I want different things out of life, than my friends. Out of relationships, specifically." She hesitates, "In terms of....intimacy."
The subsequent silence feels like it lasts an eternity. Sweet Merlin. Diana's cheeks heat up in mortification as she watches Severus struggle to process her words, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally speaks. "Have you...." He lets out a small cough, "Have you talked about this with them?"
"Not really, " Diana lets out a nervous laugh, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, "Draco's busy with, well...you know. I've only known Clarissa for a few weeks, so I don't really feel comfortable opening up to her." Her stomach twists as she thinks of a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed Gryffindor, "And Maya....Maya has her own problems right now."
"I see." Severus brushes a strand of hair out of his face. He taps a nail on his desk, before meeting her eyes once more, "And what of Miss Lovegood?"
Diana immediately feels caught off-guard by his question, "Luna is―um―" She coughs, pushing down the guilt that surfaces whenever she sees the fair-haired girl in the hallway, "She's caring, but talking to her would only exacerbate....the problem."
"Which is?" Severus raises a curious eyebrow.
"I don't―" Diana sighs, frustrated. She speaks again, "I don't think I...desire intimacy like everyone else. It's more of an obligation for me, um―" She pauses, struggling to articulate her words, "I don't think I derive any real...." Her face heats up again, "....pleasure from it."
"Right." There's a long pause before Severus finally answers. "Are you referring to a dislike of being touched?"
"No." The suddenness of her response startles even her, and Diana jolts, sharply. She corrects herself, "It's not like I don't like being touched, I just.." She sighs, "I don't like being touched...in a certain way." Oh God. Flutters of embarrassment begin to build in her chest, "In a..sexual way."
"Oh. Oh. Well ―" Severus leans back, pausing, and a gnaw of guilt claws at Diana's stomach at the look of slight discomfort on his face. His tone softens as he looks at her, "I would say those are normal feelings. You're still quite young, Diana. There's no need for you to rush into something like that if you don't want to."
"It's not that I'm afraid, " Diana sighs, leaning back in her chair, "I don't...desire it. I don't want it now, but I also..." She pauses for a beat, "don't think I'll ever want it. Or any form of it, really."
"Ah." A beat passes before he asks, "How long have you felt this way?"
"Since third year, " Diana chews her lip in thought, "Or maybe before, though I couldn't exactly articulate it then."
Snape exhales through his nose, setting his mug down with a soft clink that sounds much louder than it should. He places his fingers under his chin and studies her for a long moment. Diana fidgets, a prickly sensation buzzing under her skin as she places her empty cup back on the desk. The room suddenly feels too cold, a frigid chill beginning to take hold ― despite the roaring fireplace a few feet from them.
"At your age, it's very normal to have these...fears, " He sighs, after what feels like an eternity, "Different people show affection in different ways, and those ways can evolve over time. You might find, Diana, that in a few years, your feelings may change. For now, I would not dwell too hard on them."
It feels like a stone drops into her stomach at his words. Acid spikes into her veins, and it's all Diana can do to not laugh at her own stupidity. Of course. Of course he'd react like this. All the adults around Diana have a habit of dismissing her feelings for their own convenience ― as if she's not capable of discerning between temporary confusion and fundamental realizations.
"Right, " Diana lies, the acrid taste of tea ever-present on her tongue, "That ― that makes sense." She forces a smile, the muscles around her mouth and cheeks protesting against the false veneer of calm sliding over her face, "Thank you for listening to me."
"Anytime, " If Severus notices her change in mood, he manages to keep his tone sympathetic, though one of his eyebrows quirks up, "Are you alright, Diana?"
"I'm fine, " Diana shakes her head, letting out a nervous laugh. She rises to her feet, hoisting her book bag over her shoulder as she smiles, her expression tense, "I just ― I have a lot to think about."
"Alright then, " Severus sighs, sitting up straighter in his chair. Something changes in his expression as he looks at her, and for a moment, Diana feels like he's almost seeing through her. Then he shakes his head, clearing his throat, "My door is always open."
let's ignore that it took me an entire month after exams to write this <3