Chapter 5. Pretending

The week flew by. Probably, the endless pastime of reading books apart from everyone contributed to this. Now, Irene was waving her black magic wand around, tidying up the common room. Katherine had asked for help, as she thought the underclassmen would only get in the way. Last time they even managed to set fire to the bedspread. They were no longer to be trusted. Katherine was cleaning robes, which seemed out of character, out of keeping with her aristocratic features and manners.

"Irene," Katherine began matter-of-factly. But no matter how hard she tried to hide the happy notes in her voice, it turned out very badly. "Abraxas talked to Tom."

"And?" said Irene phlegmatically. From the mere mention of the name, a feeling of suffocation immediately appeared and clung with a death grip to the already pale Irene. Her head ached unpleasantly.

"And you're coming with us tonight!" Katherine announced solemnly and froze with delight and anticipation of eating together insanely delicious cakes, which she loved so much. Her eyes rolled dreamily and she gasped softly.

"To Hogsmeade this afternoon?" Irene sighed heavily. With a wave of her hand, the textbook went to the edge of the table.

"Yes! We'll stop by the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer."

"That sounds really good... However, I don't want to go."

Katherine hadn't expected such an answer, so her face contorted in either complaint or surprise. But in the next moment this expression was replaced by a gaze that was so characteristic of students of the snake faculty. By God, it's like a carbon copy!

"Irene," all lightness disappeared in a moment, and Katherine said very seriously, "You're going."

"No," Irene answered categorically, and then she thought: Katherine is so sweet and easy to communicate, at first glance, but as soon as things take a serious turn, she becomes very prim.

Katherine froze in place, with arms a-kimbo, confirming Irene's inferences. The robe she was cleaning remained levitating in the air.

"Irene, you can't not go," she insisted, as if there was no other option.

"Why is that?" A smug smile appeared on Irene's face.

"Did we talk to Tom for nothing?" Katherine waved her wand gracefully as the robe continued to clean itself.

"Especially this... Tom. I don't want to see him," Irene grumbled unhappily, and, it should be noted, quite convincingly. But it wasn't enough to make her body surrender to reason. A hateful sweet languor hit her lower abdomen.

"Irene! Isn't this a reason to finally start communicating? Would you stop avoiding us all the time? Forgive me for being perhaps a little inappropriately blunt, but you shouldn't put the blame solely on Riddle. You're like a cockroach in the darkest, most inaccessible corner! Sitting there, buried in your," a wave of Katherine's wand and the textbook from the bed flew to the table, "books!"

"Ms. Grace, first of all, it's not a cockroach, it's probably a snake," Irene said through a sly smile, her gaze becoming probing. "And secondly, don't lie."

Katherine sighed heavily, and it was obvious that she was hesitating. There was something on the tip of her tongue that Irene wanted to hear, but Katherine was not a person who was easily manipulated. It was only on the surface that she looked like a sweet silly girl raised in high society, a spoiled child. Maybe that's partly true, but there's a reason she ended up in Slytherin after all.

"Irene, I promised you'd be there," she finally voiced her thoughts aloud.

"Who did you promise?"

But there was no response. Katherine only stared silently at the high ceiling and sighed audibly.

"I hope that Adrian still wants to marry me and that he still cares so much about going to Hogsmeade together," Irene said. "Oh, I forgot! He's suddenly moved away from me at someone's behest."

"Irene..." Katherine hesitated, feeling uncertain because their dialog turned in a different direction than she had planned. "It's not that simple..." She took another heavy breath, and looked directly into the green eyes. "From the day you showed up, Tom said to watch you and tell him absolutely everything about you. Let me make it clear, I'm good to you! You haven't done anything to deserve a bad attitude."

"Bad attitude!" Irene chuckled nervously. That son of a bitch really suspected something after all.

"He told me to take you with me. It's like an invitation.... From him personally. It's worth a lot, Irene. And if you don't come, he won't like it. I can see you're smart. I appreciate our companionship."

Irene stood with an absolutely stony face, and sparks flared up inside, growing larger and larger. Tom Riddle invited her to his get-togethers! Wow! Tactical rapprochement was a great option. Isn't that what she wanted? And here you don't even need to invent anything, he decided everything himself. There was one small but important thing, which provoked Irene to start clowning. Was she a stench unworthy of his blissful gesture and a few of words? Did he have to invite her with someone else's mouth? He must have told Katherine not to say it was his initiative on pain of death.

"Well, what's he going to do? Will he torture you with Cruciatus?" Irene grinned. "We studied only theory, don't worry."

Katherine was not amused by these words. She looked sickly pale, as if she was about to vomit. Irene immediately considered her reaction, and her speculation about the potential threat from Riddle was confirmed.

"So, what are you going to do when he finds out you've told me everything?"

"Not everything," Katherine smirked, finally pulling herself together. "Let's just say my people radar went off, and I knew you're pretty damn good. I can't figure out what it is yet, but you're not that simple. Riddle felt it too, otherwise he wouldn't have ordered everyone to watch you."

"Ordered?" Irene repeated ironically.

"He did," Katherine said.

"And your master didn't tell you anything else?"

Katherine gave her a questioning look, and Irene realized that Riddle had kept the details of their orphanage adventures not only with her, but with his retinue as well. That was definitely good news on the one hand, and utterly horrible on the other. If only he had told Katherine something, she would have been eager to pry it out, to piece together the tiny bits and pieces of information, to figure out what was going on.

"Irene, it's worth coming with us if you want to understand what's going on, if you want to know why we're sticking together and why L- Tom is our leader."

"Katherine," all the theatrical bravado was gone from Irene's face, and she became cold and harsh in her utterances, "I don't care about a boy who thinks he's great and terrible. There are really powerful, scary, and yet great wizards. You know?"

"Have you seen him?" Katherine exhaled quietly. She seemed to be sickened by the memory when Dumbledore had walked into the Transfiguration classroom and informed that the school where that sweet, little girl opposite had studied had burned to the ground.

Irene froze as if undead. Her lips pressed together into a thin thread, and her cheekbones tensed. It seemed that one could hear the grinding of her teeth. She nodded faintly, then gave her final decision, "I'm not going."

Katherine sighed heavily, realizing that there was no point in pushing, for Irene was more than adamant. She had done everything possible on her part to avoid conflicts and tense situations, so there would be no complaints against her, at least she thought so.

"Well... It's your choice. I'll tell Tom what I told you, of course."

Irene nodded approvingly and continued going through the stack of textbooks on the table. Katherine placed Irene's robe on the edge of the bed and started on her own.

☽

After lunch, as planned, the company of Lestrange, Malfoy, Grace, Avery, Rosier, and a couple of other guys, led by Riddle, left Hogwarts. Irene, waiting until there was no one in the girls' room, took her robe from the edge of the bed, threw it over her shoulders and hurried out of the dungeon. Leaving the castle, she followed the cobblestone path toward the forest. There was a small hut in the distance, where a very young gamekeeper named Hagrid lived. All Irene had heard was a story about how a year or two ago he hid a spider right in Hogwarts that killed a Ravenclaw girl. Looking around the small hut, she imagined how nice it must be to live here. Maybe someday she would have her own house somewhere close to nature, far away from everyone else, and her whole life would be filled with a peaceful existence at last. The edge of the forest was a few meters away. Irene stopped and cautiously looked around to make sure there was nobody following her. Everything was quiet and calm. One step and the darkness of the Forbidden Forest swallowed her up.

The chilly autumn stung her skin unpleasantly. Dusk had fallen all around, even though it was still an hour and a half before school dinner. Irene took a deep breath of cool air and exhaled slowly. A cloud of steam soared into the air and immediately dissipated. Cold. She threw off her black hood, noting to herself that it was time to buy a winter robe, otherwise she'd catch a cold. And then there was the headache that never went away. Irene thought that she'd definitely need to go to the hospital wing.

The clap of Apparition.

The silhouette of a tall, stately man, his face hidden behind a dark hood, appeared in the distance. Looking around, he headed toward Irene.

"Fräulein Düster," he started to say, when the crunch of a withered branch behind Irene gave away the intruder.

Irene turned sharply, shouting as she went, "Weg!"

There was a loud clap of Apparition, and the stranger who had obviously come to see Irene disappeared. She squinted, however, peering behind the tree where someone was standing.

"Come out," she demanded imperiously.

Edmund Avery pointed his wand at Irene, slowly stepping out from behind the tree, and shouted confidently, "Expelliarmus!" The black walnut wand flew off a few meters away, which did not embarrass Irene in any way.

"Oh, come on, Edmund!" she bared her teeth, raising both hands up defiantly.

"What are you doing here?" Somewhere to the right came a voice that belonged to another young man. Irene recognized him immediately.

"Hello, Adalbert," she said, still smiling as the atmosphere around her grew more and more tense.

Lestrange approached from the other side with his wand at the ready. Irene slowly backed away to the tree with a large withered limb, the same one she had come to in mid-September.

"How did you know I was here?"

"It doesn't matter. What are you doing here?" Avery repeated the question insistently.

"Walking," Irene giggled, and her nonchalance was starting to annoy the guys.

"Who was that man? And what are you doing here?"

"Did Tom send you?" Irene was still playing around. But then her eyes squinted, and she suddenly asked, "Or... Dumbledore?"

Avery even grimaced at the unexpected question. That reaction was enough, and her eyes continued to cast sly sparks at Lestrange and Avery. The treacherous bough of an old tree stabbed her in the back.

"Irene, there's nowhere else to go. We repeat one last time —" Lestrange swung around in readiness to cast a precisely unkind spell.

Something huge knocked him off his feet, and he hit the fallen tree next to him hard.

"Oh Merlin..." Irene whispered, and shouted toward Avery, "Get down!"

The next instant, the bough of the tree touched her palm and turned into a magical walking stick.

"Durmstrang?!" Edmund cried out, taken aback by the unexpectedly revealed fact.

He was wasting precious seconds on the wrong thing, completely wallowing in surprise, which irritated Irene. The huge female Acromantula Mosag, that had knocked Adalbert to the ground, lifted its huge furry paws into the air, and several pairs of eyes stared at the potential dinner. Lestrange, lying on the ground, desperately reached for his wand, which was knocked out of his hand.

Irene sharply struck the walking stick on the already hardened, strewn with withered autumn leaves. One by one, spells unfamiliar to young men came out of her mouth. The huge spider shrank back as if some vile, unbearable sound was tearing it from within, but it crawled stubbornly toward Avery. Avery finally pulled himself together, swung his wand, but Mosag struck with one of her paws, knocking the last hope out of his hands.

"Stop!" Irene shouted in imperative tone — the echo swept through the forbidden forest.

A blow with the walking stick. The air around seemed to grow even colder, as did the ground. The monster was paralyzed and hovered half a meter off the ground. A flock of black crows soared up and flew away with an eerie cawing sound. Irene fearlessly headed towards the monster. Her black robes fluttered, and it seemed like Irene was floating above the ground herself. As soon as she came close, a pair of emerald eyes and eight black eyes met.

"Stop or you will die," Irene hissed. Her every movement and gesture were authoritarian, overwhelming.

"You're not like them," came the huge monster's vile voice.

"Where did you come from?"

"Hagriiiid," whispered Mosag. "Aragog and I have plenty of offspring now... And this dinner was supposed to be ours." Nasty furry limbs moved in the air.

"Go away," Irene said in a commanding tone, "and I won't hurt you or any of your children." With a slight gesture, Mosag collapsed with a heavy thud onto the withered foliage.

"Only because of power," Mosag wheezed, backing away, "only because of heritage..."

Irene stared at the huge monster until dusk swallowed the shadow of it. Someone's stirring was heard to the right, and turning sharply to look, Irene saw Lestrange reaching for his wand. She'd saved their asses, and they were taking advantage of the moment to sneakily launch some kind of spell at her back? Such fierce anger gripped Irene that she stepped forcefully on Lestrange's wrist, barely holding back the impulse to crush the fellow student's hand to blood and meat.

"Cruciatus will be a mercy, not a punishment, if you make the wrong move now," Irene said coldly, her voice sending shivers down young man's spine.

"You won't hit a lying person," Adalbert grinned, clutching frustrated a leaf instead of his wand.

"Did your master send you? Give me one reason not to take revenge?" Irene gave a look that made him uncomfortable.

"Who are you?" Avery spewed out, realizing there was no point in arguing. Besides, it was obvious they'd already lost this fight. Twice. "Are you an agent of the Ministry?"

Irene didn't answer right away, watching both of them as if considering something in her head.

"Even if I am from the Ministry of Magic, tell Riddle that his pathetic attempts to throw a spanner in the works of a defenseless girl are nonsense."

Irene turned around and kicked Adalbert's wand.

"Don't," she turned around again, looking at them both with an indifferent gaze, "just don't get in my way."

Avery and Lestrange rose from the cold ground, and their glares bored a hole right through Irene. Their stare was sizzling, haughty, cold, but not contemptuous. Her powers and abilities were too impressive. They had only ever witnessed dark magic and power over such beast from one wizard before. And that wizard would be very unhappy that they had failed this task. The fact of defeat was eating Adalbert's ego from the inside out. As he glanced at Irene, who was strolling with a walking stick out of the Forbidden Forest, he slowly pointed his wand at her back – Irene stopped. The young men looked at each other.

"Oh yes, I forgot," the chilling voice sounded as if a knife had been held to young men's throat.

Adalbert swallowed hard. Irene did not turn around, but raised her free hand slowly into the air. The wide sleeve of her robe fell almost to her elbow, exposing her slender wrist. With a graceful swing, a black wand, lying lonely on the cold ground where only a few minutes ago the Slytherins could have been the perfect dinner for a huge acromantula, soared into the air and flew smoothly into her hand. Avery and Lestrange remained standing like that in silent amazement.

"Obliviate," Irene whispered.

She had erased from their minds everything they had experienced that evening. She turned the magic walking stick into an inconspicuous dry twig, placed it next to the tree, and then disappeared into the darkness of the evening.

☽

The great hall was filled with students. As usual, quiet Irene took her seat next to the sixth-year students, without attracting any attention. Either the dinner was so delicious, or she had worked up a good appetite, and now she was a devil to eat. Avery and Lestrange still hadn't shown up at the Slytherin table.

'I wonder if I've inadvertently erased the obligatory dinner from their memory?' Irene grinned to herself, and a faint smile appeared on her pale face.

Tom Riddle and the rest of the retinue sat a few meters to Irene's right.

Someone carefully took the head in both palms. Irene turned around sharply, but there was no one behind her. A wave of understanding swept over her: it was Legilimency! Someone, skillful at it, was trying to get into her thoughts without verbal spell. She got herself together, remembering her occlumency class. Hell no, mate, whoever you are!

The hall filled with a noise like the fluttering of wings, and all of the students automatically looked upward. Owl post. Here and there, newspapers, letters, and packages for the students began to land on the table. A large black owl flew over Irene's head, dropping a dark, curled parchment. The parchment was sealed with a raven and a skull. The letter immediately went into her pocket.

The fellow students sitting nearby were all staring at the Daily Prophet as one.

"I told you," Abraxas said.

Katherine looked at Irene anxiously. Tom was indifferent, but his gaze also shifted from the newspaper to Irene. It was only for a moment that their gazes collided, but an electric shock immediately ran through Irene's body. Of course, he knew that something had happened in the forest. Let him suffer. He attacked the wrong one.

Irene took a sip of pumpkin juice as if nothing had happened, and then left the Great Hall. She went to the astronomy tower, hoping for some privacy. Thankfully, there was no one there. Irene was a tad tense and unfolded the paper with a little more effort than she should have. She looked around once more. No one. The beautiful handwriting was a little sloppy, indicating that the addressant was in a hurry.

☠

Budapest, Hungary

October 24

Dear Irene,

a couple of years ago, in the winter, we returned to Philadelphia, where my father Marius immediately started a living tissue transplant business. Not far from our house was a shed that he had set up as his laboratory. I hardly ever saw him. As soon as the sun came up, he'd go there and come back at midnight. It was an obsession. In the two years we lived there, it only got worse. He became completely estranged from my mother and me.

Isabella, my mother, had no choice and wrote to Pollux asking him to come. In the autumn, my uncle came to visit us, worried about my brother's health... I still have before me the way my father asked to see his scientific achievement... A modern renaissance! If only you'd seen it.

Vessels filled with fluid and chunks of flesh... The cages that stood everywhere... The filth and the smell of corpse... The smell of death and excrement. It seemed to permeate not only the air, but the very essence of being, in that cursed place! With such pride and awe, he presented us with a... the bleeding animal. The mutilated body of a dog with wings sewn to its back. It was alive! Mom cried, I immediately left that place, soaked in horror... We left, dear Irene! We had no other choice. I still can't understand or accept his insanity. Did the fact that he turned out to be a squib destroy him morally?! He's burnt out of the family tree, but... his brother Pollux, my favorite uncle, for he loved him no matter what.

My father would clap his hands and laugh as the poor, mangled animal tried to stand up, fluttering its wings....

Soon Mother and I would leave Budapest and head for Northern Europe. I will return to my studies at Durmstrang, the only place where I find peace and tranquility. I know enough time has passed, but I write when I can. These are dark times... you know.

P.S. Your request will be honored.

Daphne Black

☠

Pushing the parchment aside, Irene took a deep breath of the chilly autumn air and looked thoughtfully ahead at the view of Black Lake. There was no desire to use warming charms. A memory arose before her eyes as she soothed a little girl named Daphne at the Marius Black exhibit at a Muggle carnival in the United States that her aunt had brought her to. Little Daphne was crying, covering her face with her hands, while Irene stroked her head, casting indifferent glances at the stage where, one by one, stuffed mythical animals were presented to the viewer's eyes. The human body parts appeared to have been obtained from a graveyard. Irene was twelve and Daphne was ten, but they had tried to keep in touch ever since.

Even back then, little Daphne told her that her family had gone to the states from Europe because the Blacks didn't accept her father. Isabella Black, the girl's mother, loved her husband and, even though she was a pureblood wizard, didn't care about his abilities. But such societal, much less familial, pressures had taken their toll, and the insanely talented Muggle surgeon was becoming more and more just plain crazy after 25.

Irene remembered Aunt Vivi even letting her go to visit Daphne once. Dr. Marius Black had his own office back then, filled with stunning drawings of mythical animals. They were everywhere: pasted on the windows, scattered on the table, even on the floor. Little Irene especially liked this, for she loved drawing herself, not to mention how outlandish they looked. She had seen all sorts of fantastic creatures as it was, of course, but this was something truly amazing!

The door behind Irene creaked open, making her wince. A pair of students from the Ravenclaw, apparently lovers, had come into the astronomy tower. Irene hurriedly shoved the parchment into her pocket and hurried away.

The Slytherin common room was very cozy, but a little chilly. It was there that she decided to read her book, settling down on her favorite leather couch.

"Hey!" Katherine came out of nowhere. "Are you reading again?"

"Yes." Irene put the book down, preparing for the inevitable conversation, because it seemed like the time had come.

"I've been wondering how you and Riddle managed to make that potion. I told you you were the perfect tandem!"

Irene glared at Katherine, who was chirping merrily. She was, as usual, talking about some small things, skillfully distracting, putting her guard down.

"Katherine," Irene said quietly. Katherine, ready to support seemingly any conversation, leaned forward slightly, smiling radiantly. Irene's pale lips slowly stretched into a smile that was definitely fake. sweetly, she suddenly said, "What else do you do besides dividing authority and executing plans into phases?"

The carefree smile immediately disappeared from Katherine's face. She looked around warily, and whispered, "You wouldn't have been killed."

"Of course, I wouldn't. Because that's me who can kill." Irene stared intently into the blue eyes opposite and still smiled the same way.

"I know. I voiced it right away, but Riddle wouldn't listen to me."

"And then you asked Abraxas spending time with you so that Avery, Lestrange, Nott, or Rosier would go into the forest."

"I did."

Irene's contrived friendliness faded and she became serious. She nodded silently, realizing that Katherine was being honest with her, and shifted her gaze to the dancing flames in the fireplace.

"I said you were strong as hell, but boys," Katherine smirked, "always think girls are weaker."

"Tracking spell on the robe?" Irene asked indifferently, remembering that it was Katherine who had cleaned her robe this morning.

Katherine nodded faintly, and then whispered, "You have to understand me. I told you it's not that simple... And you two are so much alike. I'll say it again, your energy..." Katherine fell silent for a moment, and then she voiced it, "Riddle's is unpleasantly stifling and yours is also very heavy. You seem quiet and calm... Merlin alone knows what kind of blackness lurks behind that guise..."

Irene grinned, trying to figure out what could be so horrible about the Hogwarts prefect. The fact that he's good at his studies, and probably quite strong, is undeniable. The reaction of the students around him was proof of that. But then there are the truly dangerous wizards – the ones you should really be afraid of.

"What about Avery and Lestrange?"

"It's unlikely that Tom will leave this situation like this..." The conversation was disrupted by loud footsteps that made both of them automatically turn back.

"Katherine," came Malfoy's stern voice, and Katherine, as if nothing had happened, skillfully turned her attention back to him. She smiled sweetly and stood up elegantly and made her way towards him. Irene also portrayed a dreamily silly smile. One had to maintain the image of the most common girls who discussed fashionable rags or Madame Leroux's sensational lipstick. Malfoy said, "It's getting late, lights out. Irene, that goes for you too."

There were three others behind Malfoy: Riddle, Lestrange, and Avery. They obviously intended to leave the room, though it was forbidden by all the rules. Irene barely restrained herself from making sarcastic remarks out loud, but there was no point in doing so, for all threats would be idle. She wouldn't complain to the headmaster, otherwise her trip to the forest would be just as exposed, and they would just start drowning each other, which would be bad for everyone. Everyone realized this, so they all chose the tactic of silence.

Irene nodded obediently.

As soon as everyone left, and a silence adorned with the crackling of the fireplace fell, Irene immediately hummed to herself, 'So go where you're going!' She plopped back down on the couch and began reading another chapter of the book.

It took quite some time before her keen hearing picked up that the cozy crackling of the fireplace had become much louder. Irene looked at the fire: there were hardly any dancing tongues of flame, but there were plenty of smoldering embers that suddenly stirred. Irene tensed slightly, but still didn't move, waiting to see what would happen next. Only her fingers slipped stealthily to the pocket of her robe and fumbled for the cold shaft. The embers began to take shape, and in the next instant Irene recognized a familiar face.

"Is everything all right?" The voice asked quietly but sternly.

"Yes, Irene said, rushing down from the couch and sitting on her knees in front of the fireplace.

"I don't have time to lecture you for being so disobedient. He's very angry. What news?"

"Torquil Travers is at Hogwarts."

"And Theseus Scamander?"

"He's left the school."

"We need to find out where he's keeping it."

Irene nodded obediently, pushing back her naughty tresses.

"I have to go." The embers grew brighter. "Take care of yourself... little Ri."

"Auntie," Irene whispered, "Auntie Vi!" A smile painted itself on her face, and a pleasant warmth spread through her body.

The embers burst into flames, and the face was replaced by a bright flame. Irene looked around: no one. Taking a deep breath, she made a decision that, apparently, did not tolerate any delay. Carefully placing the textbook on the edge of the sofa, she took off her shoes and braided her unruly curls into a tight braid.

Leaving the dungeon, she made her way to the first floor, where the transfiguration classroom was located. Hogwarts was especially beautiful and inviting at night: torches burning everywhere, illuminating the dusky corridors, and there was such a ringing silence that it might seem that even breathing could be heard. Irene walked noiselessly with bare feet on the cold floor. She got the urge to walk around the castle at night. Now it was clear why Riddle was so happy to go on his patrols: no one disturbs you, every hidden corner is yours. The main thing was not to meet Apollyon Pringle, this is because his methods of punishment would be the envy of the most terrible wizard and sorcerer. Although, what's the matter with that poor caretaker? Irene couldn't even connect with his fellow students. Katherine was good, but even she can't be trusted. And what could Riddle possibly do? Who did he think he was, and, most surprisingly, why did the others so easily recognize his authority? There was no doubt he was pureblood. They all prayed for purity of bloodline. But he lived in an orphanage. Did his parents die? Just like Irene's parents?

The jumble of thoughts vanished as if at the snap of the fingers. Irene looked around cautiously and walked to the door of the classroom – somewhere behind it was Dumbledore's room. Concentrating, she ran her hand over the lock, reading the spells that guarded the area.

Something deep inside gave an unpleasant tingle. The intangible thoughts, feelings, and sensations prevented her from continuing. Irene turned around – there was no one. But still the inner voice insisted that it was too dangerous and it was better to do it during the day, for example, in class. Agreeing that it was foolish to make a hasty decision and act at random, Irene headed back to the dungeon. She hoped that all the girls were long asleep and no one would notice her quiet return.