XIX

Even though it was the beginning of summer, the skies over Hogwarts had been nothing short of grey. It seemed an odd phenomenon to Hether, but she quickly understood why. Draco was still sulking; in any case, he was unlocking his power through his sulking.

Rain fell in torrents over the turrets of the castle, confining everyone within its warm granite walls. A lone figure climbed up the stairs to one of the many towers, lone flame in one hand, and a wand clenched tightly in another.

He needed to see Hether, no matter the cost. Time was running out, and he was getting no nearer to unleashing the dragon. He had spent their training time alone either in the library or with Snape, learning all sorts of magic. The Professor thought he was doing it to prepare himself for the inevitable battle. In a way, he was.

Draco thrust the hand with the flame in front of him. Another dead end. He let out a frustrated groan and spun around in anger. For the past thirty minutes or more, he had been walking up and down and sideways an infinite number of stairs trying to get to the Ravenclaw common room, to no avail. It was as if the castle hated him.

"Going somewhere?"

Draco let out a yelp that embarrassed him greatly and stumbled back. In front of him was Hether, her dark face illuminated barely by the firelight. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you." She kept her hands firmly by her side. "if you're looking for the Ravenclaw tower, then you've been barking up the wrong beanstalk."

Draco pursed his lips and walked up to her so that his head was next to her ear. In the wizarding world, everything had ears. "Time is running out. I need to learn more."

"So, you've decided to stop sulking?" Hether turned her head slightly to him.

"Apologize," he said stiffly.

"For what?"

"You hurt me, Hether. You became my enemy. You know how much I hate Potter. Why'd you do it?" He dropped his eyes to the dying flame in his hand.

"You needed motivation. Fire isn't your element, Draco." She responded. "I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I didn't know how else to get the fight out of you."

Silence. Hether was glad the flame was still burning, otherwise she would have probably suffocated in the tense quiet.

"Kiss me and I'll feel better." He said quietly.

"What?" she frowned. It was the last thing she had expected to hear.

"Kiss me and I'll feel better." He looked up at her. His grey eyes were like amber jewels in the firelight.

She raised an eyebrow, but still leant forward to kiss him. He waited as her lips drew closer to his, then in a burst of impatience, grabbed her by the waist and softly planted his lips on hers, as if he was scared he would injure her in his anger.

His free hand curled around some of her braids and he relaxed, feeling the braided texture running through his fingers once more. He pulled away, slightly dazed.

"You are forgiven." He said in his most coherent voice.

"I hope you've slept well enough," Hether held out a hand. "because you have a lot to catch up on."

"You'd be surprised." Draco scoffed and took it. The familiar unnerving feeling took over as they apparated away from the stairway and into the chamber of secrets.

He still wasn't used to the chamber. It was very intimidating, and made him feel very small.

"When are you sixteen, Draco?" Hether kicked away a stone that had been dislodged. She frowned, the stone hadn't been there the last time they were in there.

"In June." He folded his arms across his chest. "Why?"

"You're about to become of age. So, our training must be complete by then." She scanned the roof of the chamber, then turned back to Draco. "What are you doing during summer?"

"That's classified." He said hesitantly.

Hether rolled her eyes and grabbed unto his elbow, pulling him towards her. "If you mean to say, that the death eaters and Marvolo are meeting at your place to plan a takeover on Hogwarts, then just say so."

"I never said that – who told you that?" He narrowed his eyes.

She shook her head. "I've been aware of that for eons now, I'll have you know." She clapped her hands twice in an attempt to disrupt his chain of thought. "Where'd you get up to with your spells during the hols'? If you're up to par then we can move on to verbal water spells."

"Right," Draco stepped back and brandished his wand. Hether watched as he steadied himself before launching into a display of spells and curses alike. He wasn't particularly strong at all of them, she observed, but he knew the words to say and didn't mix them up. When he was done, he looked back to her for approval. "Well?"

"Snape's obviously teaching you well; you just need to constantly practice the incantations." She offered him a small smile. "I'm impressed."

"So, what next?" he asked her. She turned away from him in thought. As he stared at her back waiting for a response, it dawned on him that the fate of everything as he knew it didn't depend on Harry Potter or any self-acclaimed 'chosen one', but rather, on him. If he was able to resist the Dark Lord, things would go as they were supposed to; but if he wasn't… Draco blinked. He didn't even know what could happen if he gave into the Dark Lord's wishes.

"We'll start doing the wordless spells."

Draco scoffed. "Well, that's pretty simple – just think the words rather than say them out. Easy."

Hether snorted. "You're only saying that because you haven't actually done it before."

The rain still pounded the walls of the castle, forcing everyone towards the safety of the fireplace or their duvets. That is, everyone except Veja. The rain always compelled her to go out and into it, rather than hide away like everyone else did. It was during those times that she was able to let the rain wash over her and take away everything that pinned her down, even if it was only temporary.

Here, she could breathe; be herself; be free from all the voices around her. The rain came so heavily tonight that she wondered if it would carry her with it, and take her far away from the castle, or if it would drown her. Either way no one would even notice she was gone.

She sat on a wooden bench and took off her coat. It would only grow heavy on her and make her colder. Her usual cloud of hair had deflated and now clung to her face and neck for dear life, which was the only thing she disliked about the rain. She disliked her hair even more. She wished she could stop using it to hide and cut it short, close to her scalp, but she could not, as it would only emphasise her condition.

Veja sighed and drew her arms close to herself for warmth, even though the rain came down hot and humid. Everywhere was silent; even the creatures of the night had retreated back to their homes for warmth. She was alone.

She let out a forced laugh. She had always been alone from the day father had died. It was a terrible day, hot and rainy, just like this one. He had only just tucked her in, and had shut the door behind him. She had slept soundly that night, lulled by the gentle hammering of the rain on the window, and was woken up the next morning by her mother's scream.

He had never made it past the door. She didn't notice; she was far too gone in her sleep. Veja glanced at her watch. It was now past one in the morning. She looked up to the black sky and let the rain fall into her eyes. It didn't mix with her tears. There were none to mix with. She had given up crying, years ago. The tears only burned into her face and reminded her of all she had lost.