Chapter 81. Chiara and Hermione / Dark Arts

Hermione took a deep breath, today was the day. Today was the day she would finally tell her friend. After turning in her assignment for discovering werewolves, she rushed out the door to catch up with Chiara. “Chiara!” She called out for her, and Chiara stuttered before turning around, her expression read with worry. Hermione paused, realizing that she looked more worried than her usual shy self. “What’s wrong?” Chiara reached one arm around herself, grabbing her other, a motion Hermione had recognized when Chiara was thinking of the right words to say.

Finally Chiara shook her head. “I didn’t get much sleep because of the homework… It’s nothing.” She began walking away, and Hermione quickly realized that Chiara must have been scared of someone, doing the homework, discovering her secret. Before she had a second thought, she rushed over, and grabbed Chiara’s arm. “W-What are y-” “Follow me.” Hermione ordered, sometimes having to take the lead for Chiara to speak her mind.

She went outside, still keeping a tight grip on Chiara, not wanting to lose her closest female friend over the years. Only after sitting her down on a large rock, and Hermione stood in front of her, did Hermione speak again. “You were worried that someone might make the connection between the homework and yourself?” Chiara gasped, and her entire body froze in place, her gaze lingering in the distance, wishing for something to take her far away from this conversation.

“I-I don’t know… W-What you are talking about.” Chiara shakily responded, her eyes darting back and forth while her hand tightened its grip around her own arm. Hermione knelt down, forcing herself in front of Chiara’s gaze. “I know… That you are a werewolf.” Hermione whispered, trying to keep her tone low to keep Chiara calm. She watched as Chiara’s eyes watered, her lips trembled, and her nose started to run.

“I-I’m sorry… I-I can stay away… Just please don’t tell anyone else…” Chiara muttered, her voice shaking as her past came flooding back into the present, dooming to repeat itself. Her world crumbling around her ears as the closest and most reliable friend would soon leave her in disgust and fear. This was what worried her most, what she knew she would see if she stood before that Boggart. Her worst fears coming true right before her eyes. A piece of her would die every time she would walk by Hermione in the halls, living proof that someone cursed as she was would forever lose things most precious to them. Hermione was the one that Chiara feared most of turning against her, the one she cared most for among everyone she knew at school.

Instantly Chiara felt Hermione slam into her, and in her shock, only realized after a few seconds that Hermione had wrapped her arms around her, strongly grasping around her to quell any idea of letting go. “No. I’m not doing that.” Hermione spoke with conviction, not giving an inch in her determination. “I’m not losing you as a friend. You are my best friend.” Chiara shivered uncontrollably, her mind in denial over this situation, Hermione her closest friend since ‘the incident’ wasn’t in horror. “D-Do you mean it…?” She asked, her arms, slowly hugging Hermione as she nodded. “Of course. You are, and always will be, my best friend.” Chiara's heart swelled with Hermione's words, unable to fully understand her feelings, nor how to put them into words, she could only bury her face into Hermione's neck.

Hermione nodded as she slowly caressed Chiara's back to help ease her, she couldn’t help but release all of the tension over the years of having her secret discovered. Hermione understood that friends were usually the last those afflicted with this curse wanted to have look at them with horror, or contempt. Tears began to fall on Hermione’s shoulder, as Chiara silently bawled for her best friend. All the while, Hermione held back her own tears for the hidden pain that rested on Chiara’s and even Lucas’ shoulders. She just silently accepted Chiara’s outletting of her emotions, waiting for her to release all the pain pent up over the years.

After Chiara’s tears were gone, and she was only reduced to sniffling, her eyes red and puffy, did Hermione let go to talk with her. “I knew for a while actually.” Hermione admitted, Chiara pausing in confusion, no hint of betrayal for not saying a word, only innocent confusion. Hermione smiled, knowing how nice and caring Chiara was, truly a Hufflepuff worthy of the name. “I didn’t want to tell you before I could learn this.” She then slowly began transforming her body into an otter, now sitting on Chiara’s lap.

“Y-You learned that, for me?” Chiara asked in awe, slowly petting and caressing Hermione’s dense fur, her eyes glistening again, threatening to burst into a new dam of tears. Knowing that Animagus were safe from a werewolf’s rage, Hermione had proven that she was willing to go through months of trial and tribulation to become something that Chiara couldn’t hurt, removing the fear of turning on her best friend while transformed. Hermione quickly transformed back into her human self, sitting beside Chiara with the largest smile Chiara had ever seen on her. “You never have to worry about hurting me, or losing me anymore.”

At the same time, Pansy was in Lucas’ room, watching him brew up another potion, gold steam rising from his cauldron. “What is this again?” She asked, setting down her book of magical plants. Lucas, glanced at his book he borrowed from the library, and nodded before explaining. “It should be a potion that creates happiness in whoever drinks it. Elixir of Euphoria.” Pansy sighed while petting Val, hissing happily under her caring and gentle fingertips. “No, I mean, why are you making this?” He had dodged the question a few times before, and now Pansy refused to leave his side until he gave her a concise response.

I sighed, glancing at my trunk. Unsure if I should tell Pansy about what I had learned, as it was parallel to my cursed blood, if I explained one, the other would almost surely come to light. “Alright…” I eventually relented, feeling the need to tell somebody about the truth about Dementors, or perhaps I was just wanting to test the waters in telling Pansy about myself. I reached into my trunk, under Pansy’s watchful gaze, and pulled out the Tome that started this all. “What does this look like to you?” I asked, wondering what it appeared to other people.

Pansy squinted at me in confusion, but eventually looked at the book. “Just a black book? Is this what you bought from that store in Hogsmeade?” I nodded at her, while opening up to the first page. “How about now?” Pansy looked at the pages, and shook her head. “Just looks like runes to me. Why, what does it say?” I frowned while turning the book over to look at it myself. It was written in runic text, but the text was blood red, literally. “I see that it’s written in blood.”

“What!?” Pansy yelled, jumping from my bed, and grabbing the book to see for herself. She slowly shook her head, while flipping a few pages. “No, it’s all black ink, are you okay?” She asked a bit worriedly. I scoffed at her while closing the book, shaking my head. “Perhaps not, this Tome was written by a dark wizard, the creator of Dementors.” I then began to explain how I found it, and decided to make the potion it listed. When I did, I was quickly met with the pain of Pansy hitting me in defiance. “You fool! You insane fool! Did you never think that maybe this could be the same situation I faced last year!?” She continued to hit and smack me, only pausing when Val came to my defense, hissing his appeasement to her with sad eyes.

“We need to take that to the headmaster, or the ministry, or somebody else!” She ordered as I added a new ingredient into the cauldron. “What are you still making that for!?” I smirked, continuing the story of how I could now speak with Dementors, and the conversation I had with one, avoiding the parts of my transformation. I had actually tested it a few other times since then. Discovering that I had become a sort of Animagus at this point. Able to transform into my wolf form at will, it still hasn’t been past a full moon since, so I didn’t know if my beast inside would awake on that night, or if it was permanently retired, but that was for later. Right now I had to calm Pansy down.

“That’s… Sad.” Pansy muttered, her face darkened under the eternal torment these creatures devised by a mad man were constantly under. I nodded at her with an equally solemn expression. “That’s why I’m trying to make this. If they drink it, then perhaps they’ll feel more at ease. I’m not losing my path to dark magic, you don’t have to worry about that Pansy.” I then thought of something I read somewhere I couldn’t place, thinking that it was pertainable. “It's like that saying... To fight the darkness, one must know it.”

Pansy watched Lucas as his expression turned serious as he said those words, she knew that Lucas was worried that Voldemort was still somewhere out there, waiting for his chance to either kill or recruit Lucas. It weighed on her mind from time to time, wondering if one day he may just vanish, just like how he worried himself. She knew that it may be even worse for Lucas, the constant threat of the darkest wizard in the world with his eye on him. She couldn’t in good conscience tell him that he was worrying over nothing, and to relinquish some insight on defending himself to others. However, she couldn’t have him go through that anxiety alone either.