Envy (Sequel to Deceit)

Mind Games

It was only two days after my brief bout of amnesia that we returned to Hogwarts. Khaeos, Alice and I had made our way to the platform, boarding the train together. Alice, who had acquired the position of prefect, left without a word presumably to join the coveted Prefect Carriage. Khaeos and I managed to find an empty compartment and sat down inside. We were silent.

Breathing in deeply I closed my eyes and cut myself off from the world. Doing this lessened the pain if only a little. The Dark Mark. Anyone that tells you it doesn't hurt, that they didn't scream, is a liar. A liar or a fake. Imagine the heat when you accidentally catch your skin on the edge of a cauldron fresh from the fire. Then imagine that instead of your natural reflex to pull away, you are stuck, glued to the scalding heat. Imagine that but ten times worse. Perhaps then you will understand our pain. Almost.

The train whirred into life and slowly pulled out of the station; the rhythmic thunder of the wheels over the metal tracks echoed in my ears like a frantic heartbeat. Despite that, it was comforting in a way. I felt the overwhelming urge to sit and sketch but I denied it, fearful of what may present itself on my parchment.

"What do we do now?" Khaeos murmured, her voice jerking me from my world of near tranquility and into the world of harsh reality. Reality sucks. It's cold, bland and unforgiving; it cannot be altered nor swayed by the pathetic whims of an individual, no matter who they might be -or claim to be. Fate does not favour the rich, nor the pure of blood; it does not care from where you come or what you look like. In the eyes of fate we are all the same but what divides us, is that some are destined to live, others to die. In my own eyes, fate was the greatest force in our world, stronger than any magic and certain in its course. Whichever decisions I chose were pre-chosen by fate; we ricochet and bounce, spiralling towards the lives that fate has sculpted for us; the destinies that are set in stone. Families, love, happiness, death. I didn't know where my path lead or how to get there, only did I hope that it ended with Xander and peace.

I sighed deeply "there is nothing that can be done...yet," I murmured.

"What about the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, know anything?" Khaeos began.

I shook my head slowly, "nothing. Not that it matters, they'll probably be dead this time next year"

"You say it like its nothing," Khaeos replied accusingly, noting my matter-of-fact tone.

For a second I looked at her pointedly, then understanding that she did not understand my view proceeded to explain myself "They never last. It was a joke, okay. After all, we've seen enough death to know it is unavoidable, so why pretend?"

"Why joke about it?" She retorted.

"Because if I don't, if no one does... then I think I'll go insane. I joke about it for the same reason that you would see the Weasley twins crack a joke on the battlefield. Sometimes, just sometimes, we need it," I sighed, self consciously rubbing my arm.

"I think I need something a bit more than just a joke," Khaeos mumbled, glancing out of the window as she did so.

"Chocolate frog?" I offered, jokingly. Khaeos rolled her eyes dramatically and stood up, placing her hands on her hips, "well, as you volunteered... You can pay" she smiled gesturing to the corridor outside.

"Whatever," I retorted, a telltale smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

Here, on the Hogwarts Express was freedom. Such an exquisite, perfect feeling. Grinning I flew down the corridors, waving cheerily to fellow Slytherins as I passed them until I reached the trolley. It was in the middle of the Gryffindor carriage, a huddle of students were gathered around it. Their ages ranged from first years to a few prefects but all had eager smiles on their faces; there was no way you could not enjoy Hogwarts, sure some of the lessons were a bore but other than that it was magnificent. Still smiling to myself, I joined the back of the queue waiting patiently when I felt a tap on my shoulder.