Book 1 – Chapter 1

Chapter One

“Something’s Wrong”

 

It just didn’t feel right. None of it added up. He just felt so uncomfortable, so out of place. People were moving all around him, all interacting with one another, smiling at each other as if all was well with them. Maybe it was. Perhaps he alone felt this way, that something was, somehow, wrong.

Maybe it was just him then. Maybe he was what was wrong. This world didn’t seem right to him, but all those others seemed to be happy enough. What was wrong with him that he felt this way? Why, whenever he tried to join in with those smiling ones, did his attempts seem to create discord? The seemingly harmonious patterns of their interactions seemed always to be stained by any attempt on his part to get involved. It was as if they were all playing some kind of game, the rules of which he knew not. Perhaps he should just leave them all to it. Perhaps this was not his place, after all, it felt so wrong. Did he even want to join in with them?

Although he knew he was lying in his bed, his curtains enclosing him in a private pace, his mind seemed to have taken off, left the confines of the castle and risen up into the night. He imagined he was floating upwards, through the dark sky. He looked up. The stars were shining bright, little pinpricks of light far above. He rose higher and began to wonder how high he would have to go before those little dots became large burning balls of fire. Could he get there? Maybe he would feel more at home nearer to some other star, far away from here.

He wondered what it would feel like, to experience the weightlessness of space, once he had broken through the Earth’s atmosphere which currently held him down. Could he break free? Did he have the courage, the will to keep going? As he went higher still, he wondered if the very fact that he was questioning himself was proof that he would fail. Did he already know, in his heart of hearts, that his fear of the unknown would hold him back, and that he would never know the feeling of free-floating in space, because he would stop himself long before he got there?

That thought caused a wave of relief to wash over him, and this was the final nail in the coffin of his space-walking fantasies. He lacked the courage, lacked the confidence to fly to unknown realms in search of…what, exactly? Freedom? Knowledge? Truth? He wasn’t sure what it was he even wanted, why he was even here, high up in the sky, in the first place. Sure, he felt out of place in the world below, but to fly up into space, all on his own? Somehow that didn’t seem right either, though maybe that was the fear talking…?

No. Running away was wrong. Fear was preventing him from breaking free, yet it was fear that had brought him here in the first place. Fears had to be faced, and surely it was better to face up the original fears that had set him off running to begin with.

The night sky was beautiful and mysterious. The cosmic magnificence it betrayed, as the opaque cloak of the daytime sky dissolved to reveal the transparency of the night-time atmosphere, exposing the sheer magnitude of space which surrounded this little world. Did anyone else even see it like that? Maybe one or two…

Yes, this world was wrong, plagued with a sickness unknown to most, yet it was still his world, perhaps more his than anyone else’s, given that he alone seemed to be aware of its illness. What if it could be cured? Was that idea so outside the realms of possibility? What would it even take? Would anyone help him, if he decided to undertake this mammoth task? Surely he knew of at least two who could help him…

That was what brought him down again. The thought of those two. He could never face the unknown alone. Yes, he was a deeply introverted individual who revelled in solitude, yet he knew, despite this, that to have met those two, and at the time at which he did, was to come to a realisation that complete solitude would have got him nowhere. He needed them and they needed him. Together they were far more than they were apart.

So should they come with him? He and these two soul mates he had found, should the three of them all take flight and soar high above that hideous crowd of pleasant interactions, of the normal, adjusted ones, those to whom any idea of something higher, something nobler, something stronger, were met with blank stares from dead, soulless eyes.

But soft now…anger mustn’t rise too high, particularly at such delicate times. Besides, they, the soulless, weren’t entirely to blame. No, there was surely some greater evil, beyond them, hiding in the shadows, just out of sight. Better save his rage for the root cause of the problem, rather than attack the symptoms, those simpletons who looked and looked and looked, yet never did they see…

Space was dark all around him. Looking down, he saw the Earth below, a blue bed of comfort, at least to a certain degree. He had been over-ambitious, to think he was ready to make the flight and reach escape velocity. There was a moment in time, a decisive moment, for such a thing, but he was not there, not yet. But something was happening…

He was just a dreamer, but what was the dream? Was he just dreaming again? How could he tell? Where was here? Where was there? Now felt just as wrong as then had done. He couldn’t take it. Space was fading now. Time to go back, time to nestle in again, into the old familiar comforts of the world below, and of his friends, his companions who alone felt as he did. But would it be the same when he got back? He wasn’t sure anymore, perhaps too much had changed. After all, there was nothing permanent in this world, except change…

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dVi4udrM2Sw

 

Light was beginning to slowly creep in, through the canopy of material which enclosed his bed of solitude, his private theatre of dreams. Yet he was already awake, had been for some time, he now realised. He’d not even been dreaming, just thinking at a low level of consciousness as he slowly rose up towards the waking world.

Yes, light was beginning to slowly creep in, yet he barely noticed as his vision seemed to be filled only by something he knew was not really there before him. Unbidden, or so he liked to think, this vision came to him and her face was all he could see, striking, deep blue eyes staring accusingly at him from behind a curtain of long, black hair. Accusing him of what though? Of wanting something more from her than she was willing to give? Or of not wanting it enough? He wasn’t sure, she didn’t exactly give much away when she spoke to him of these matters, yet she didn’t really need to, he supposed, given their propensity for non-verbal communication, utilising looks, glances, facial expressions and sometimes just prolonged eye-contact.

He’d always felt that he knew her so well, had become so intimately acquainted with her on such a deep level, that he would always know how she felt, always know what she was thinking at all times, yet lately…

Everything had been going according to plan. There had always been something different with her, some undercurrent to their friendship which had been waiting for the right time to emerge into the light, and yet, when it had, it had merely enjoyed a brief moment in the sun, before darkening again, turning crisp as it burned in the hot sunlight, its ashes falling back into the deep recesses of their conjoined psyches.

That had not been a part of the plan. It was strange though, he didn’t feel as though it had affected their friendship at all, as though their friendship was an entirely different entity from this other thing that had crept in. He knew, for certain, that he could go to her right now, wherever she was, and talk and laugh and conspire as they always had done. Yet neither of them would deny that something had happened, that something, at some level, had changed. Neither of them would say anything, of course, but there would be some acknowledgement, whether a look, a glance, a brief knowing smile…

Perhaps it wasn’t yet time, perhaps they had moved too soon, they were still young after all, and, as he knew, their friendship was still solid, unchanged by this foray into… something else.

No, she clearly wished to explore other things, and why shouldn’t she, given her youth? Never mind the little twinge of pain, deep in his gut as he thought of this. No, she could do as she wished and so could he.

And with that, he emerged once again into the world.

It was a cool, orange-tinged, late September morning as he ascended up to the entrance hall. Perhaps due to the earliness of the hour, perhaps due to the weekend’s lack of regimented structure, he didn’t feel much like eating anything just yet, so, rather than taking the normal path into the Grate Hall, he instead took the alternate path that led out of the castle’s enormous front doors and into the light breeze of the grounds. Perhaps an early morning stroll around the lake, given his contemplative mood.

Looking across the lake, he saw this mood reflected back at him. The lake was calm and still, but there was, as ever, a light mist at its centre concealing, he’d always been certain, some great mystery, as if there was a secret little island which only revealed itself at certain times, or to certain people, those who had proven themselves worthy of it. He’d been probing the secrets of the castle for as long as he could remember, he having had the advantage of growing up here, yet he knew there was still far more yet to be uncovered. Here he was, at the circumference, looking longingly at the centre. One day he’d get there, it was his destiny, he was sure, and even if not, he would make it so.

As he made his way around the lake, he continued to glance at the centre, yet nothing appeared to him. He was not ready yet, it seemed. What heroic deeds must he accomplish before such things were revealed to him? What agony would he have to endure, what sacrifices would he have to make? Hadn’t he already sacrificed? Hadn’t he already given up a golden opportunity to make something wondrous of that little undercurrent to their relationship that they’d discovered? Hadn’t he backed down to her wishes, going against everything his heart had been screaming at him? Was that not enough? Perhaps not, he supposed such things were mere trivialities to that unreachable mist.

Collecting himself, he realised he was letting it get to him, and that certainly wouldn’t help. There were other things in life than just him and her and whatever it was that they were doing. She knew it, that was for sure, she had no problem in seeking out other things. Other things…other people? What other people were there, really, that could match up to his expectations, his requirements which had been set by the only two people that had ever mattered? Evidently that was the problem. He had closed himself off from anyone else in an entirely prejudiced manner. Perhaps it was time now to just relax a little…

By the time he made the full circuit, the sun had risen higher in the sky, lighting up the front of the castle quite majestically, a clear invitation to return to its warmer interior. He turned up the path towards those doors. Yet just as he got there, raised voices could be heard from just inside, through the crack in the slightly open doors. He paused outside, to listen. There was some sort of altercation going on, it seemed.

“Oh, give it up, Snivellus! Aren’t you sick of us embarrassing you every time you try to take us on?”

Rolling his eyes, he realised he was bearing witness to yet another confrontation between the Gryffindor clowns and their arch-nemesis, his elusive dorm-mate, Severus Snape. The whole thing was getting old now. Couldn’t Severus learn to just get over them already?

“…I know all your dirty little secrets, Black,” ‘Snivellus’ was saying now, “just remember that the next time you plan on attacking me.”

Oh come on Severus, he thought to himself, you think that’s going to stop them?

“You don’t know anything about anything, you greasy little weasel!” That was Black, as quick to anger as Severus was. He hoped he wouldn’t have to intervene here…

But there was another voice now, a girl’s voice, a soft, pleading voice laced with frustration.

“Can’t you all just leave each other alone? Stop fighting in the corridors all the time!” Lily Evans, he realised, always trying to keep the peace, a Sisyphean task if ever there was one.

“Hey Evans, come out to Hogsmeade with me today and I promise I’ll never so much as look at Snivellus’s pasty face again.” That was Potter, with his customary goading of both Lily Evans and Severus. How he ever thought to win her that way…

“Oh grow up, all of you!” Lily responded, though it sounded more like a grumble to herself.

From his vantage point, he could just see through the crack in the door. The altercation seemed to be breaking up, evidently there hadn’t been enough of an audience for Potter and Black to make any kind of spectacle of the situation. Severus had sloped off back down to the dungeons, the Gryffindors were making their way upstairs, and Lily Evans was heading outside. Right to where he was.

To avoid discovery as an eavesdropper, he quickly jumped down the steps and backed up several paces, just as she opened to door. Storming down the steps and onto the path, she drew closer to where he was. As she did, she noticed him and glanced up. Expecting to see anger, frustration or annoyance, he was a little surprised to see nothing but sadness in her eyes, those big, bright, green eyes he’d first noticed five years previously, at their sorting ceremony, and which had stuck in his mind ever since.

 

 

It was only the briefest of glances, yet time seemed to slow down as he caught those eyes, that little moment stretching out into an eternity and everything seemed to turn green as he began to drown in a vast ocean of despair. There was something about this girl.

Why was she so bothered by it all? Why not just let them get on with their nonsense and let it pass her by? Why did she feel obligated to get involved all the time?

Those Gryffindor clowns were just…well, classic Gryffindors. So confident in their ideas of the world, so naive. Everything was simple to them, everything so black and white. They were the good guys and Slytherins were the bad guys and they had every right to go to battle with the age old enemy. They were the heroic knights in shining armour defending the world against the evil Slytherins, all Death Eaters in waiting, doomed from birth to a life of evil, dark sorcery. It would be funny if it weren’t mostly true…

But mostly true wasn’t good enough! It wasn’t entirely true, therefore it was entirely false. Could they ever grasp the concept that things weren’t so simple? Could they ever contemplate, for just one minute, the idea that a Slytherin might not be intrinsically evil, that Gryffindors might not all be brave heroes, that, from another point of view, they all came across as pompous, ignorant imbeciles?

Then again, most Slytherins were just as bad and they didn’t do themselves any favours. Severus was an intelligent guy, sure, but he let his emotions get the better of him all too often. And then, there was this Lily Evans…

He suddenly realised that he was guilty of the same thing, of tarring them all with the same brush. This moment of eye contact with this girl had revealed it all to him. She was clearly not like other Gryffindors, clearly she must have at least some idea of the greater complexity of it all, hence her frustrations, hence the sadness he’d seen in her eyes.

But why sadness? Why would she get so involved? He remembered the incident at the end of last year, after the exams, when she had publicly defended Severus against the clowns, only to have him turn on her, his pride too injured to graciously accept and appreciate her assistance. After that, surely she would have washed her hands of the whole matter, wouldn’t she? But clearly not. What was it that kept her pursuing this pointless path? What was it about this petty matter that drove her to throw herself into a situation which she needn’t bother with?

As the moment finally dissolved back into the normal flow of reality, she passed by him and continued down the path, as he continued the other way. As he reached the steps however, he turned around and watched her, his mind still filled with the greenness of her eyes.

He remembered his sorting ceremony, five years ago. He’d been stood there, in the great hall, with all the other first years, waiting to try on the hat. He could feel the nervousness around him, yet he, himself wasn’t nervous in the slightest. The castle had been his home since he’d been born, and he knew full well which house the hat was going to put him in.

As McGonagall had called out names in alphabetical order, he realised he wouldn’t have too long to wait. After some kid with an ‘E’ name got called, he felt sure he’d be the next on the list, yet “Evans, Lily” had been the next name called, and this turned out to be the small, red-haired girl who had been standing next to him, practically shaking with fear.

That had been the first time he’d seen those eyes, the first time he’d fallen into an eternal moment in their gaze. He’d been wondering what friends he would make once he started school, and when he saw this girl, he wondered whether she’d be one of them. He felt a desire to comfort her in some way, to tell her not to worry and it would be alright, no need to be so terrified.

As she’d disappeared under the brim of the hat, he’d anticipated the shout of “Slytherin!” that would send her into the same house he was destined for, yet, quite disappointingly, it had been “Gryffindor!” instead. This had deflated him somewhat, though, at the time, he’d been able to dismiss it, to put it out of his mind, go into Slytherin house and meet his true friends, those he’d been likewise destined for, and surely he had met them. The green eyed girl became just some other Gryffindor, of little interest to the esoteric spirit of Slytherins and their noble house.

Yet now, as he looked after her, he felt that he’d been dishonest with himself. His dismissal of her had been a way of his trying to convince himself that there had been no connection between them in that moment. She was not destined to be one of his friends, she was just some Gryffindor to be ignored. But had he ignored her? Every time he saw her in the corridors, in classes, in the Library, in the Great Hall, hadn’t he always been reminded of that moment at the sorting ceremony. He must have been, on some unconscious level, for why else would he be so clearly remembering it now? And there was definitely something about her, now just as there had been then too.

Clearly something was, indeed, very wrong with the world. Here he was, proud Slytherin, gazing into the distance after this Gryffindor girl, thinking about destiny, questioning everything he’d believed in for five years, longing for another eternal moment in that melancholic greenness…

Perhaps that had not been their time, five years ago. But that didn’t mean that such a time would never come. Maybe it was the thoughts he’d had that morning, about going off to explore other things, but something led to his making a snap decision in that moment. He simply, as ever, had to know. What was he afraid of? Had a Slytherin never had a civil conversation with a Gryffindor before? No, this girl was too intriguing. He’d been intrigued by her since the moment he’d first seen her, and it was time, not only to admit that to himself, but to act upon it!

But how would he approach her, where would be the best place, what would he say, how would she react?

Ah! Here they were again, his old friends, Fear and Doubt! Well, no more! It was time to take control, time to be a man. Destiny! That old fiend, constantly standing over him, leering at him, but now he need no longer fear that cold gaze, rather, he now locked on to it, and suddenly saw right through it, suddenly saw just how empty it was, there was no scathing mockery there at all, there was just…well now, that was up to him wasn’t it?

Destiny was a mirror, but one onto which one paints one’s own reflection. Stand aside Fear! Stand aside Doubt! It’s time to take action!

Although maybe he ought to talk to Dumbledore first…

Such a conflict! Something was definitely wrong. Was he really a warrior of destiny? Or was he nothing but a dreamer…?