That's all for now!

Notes: Sorry that there's no paragraphs… I copied and pasted…

scrooge100 wrote:

fantastic

SilverEagle wrote:

kay, normally I hate fanfiction because it's a cheap way to avoid the whole ‘creation’ process of a story, but I liked this, mostly because you're all around a very good writer and I'd love to read some of your original work (not in the sense that this isn't original, but you know what I mean). I love your imagery and clean, concise writing, and seriously write some more, because I'd totally read it and I'm sure others would too.

ag75 wrote:

Lovely

Moonwatcher06 wrote:

I like this story. When are you gonna make Part 2?

APolina wrote:

This is REALLY good! I really like it. I think that you should continue this. My only little quirk is that I feel like Luna is too developed and not as dreamy as in the books, but this is fanfiction so alright.

ForeverAnAuthor wrote:

UPDATED!
Darkness Within

Part One

I hurried along an empty Hogwarts’ corridor, my face buried in a thick book. As I turned a sharp corner, I ran straight into two figures.
“Oh, so sorry!” I muttered, before glancing up at the people in front of me. My sharp blue eyes widened at the sight of the oddity Luna Lovegood, with a most unlikely companion. My book dropped from my hands, landing with a muffled thud on the ground.
I quickly casted my eyes onto the ground, too afraid to look up again.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered swiftly. “I didn’t know that you’d be here. I was just heading to the common room. Excuse me.”
I tried to step pass the two in front of me, but Luna stopped me, genuinely smiling. I looked up at her, startled. After all, very few people smiled at me, like, for real. Some laughed at me, yes, but never because they liked me. The ones that did really smile were usually teachers, and occasionally, my reflection in the mirror, but that was even rarer than the teachers’ fleet smiles.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Luna said mistily. “It was as much our fault as yours. Wasn’t it, Draco?”
Luna looked at her companion expectantly, but he just stared coldly at me as expected, his icy blue eyes boring straight through me. Luna frowned a little, and bent down to pick up my book, while I stood there, frozen, staring back at him.
“Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” Luna read the cover. “Well, it is a good book, but it’s a shame that they never mentioned Crumple-Horned Snorkacks or even—”
“Aquila Lestrange,” Draco said sharply to me, ignoring Luna. “You never saw us, do you understand? Not a word.”
His voice was forceful, warning me of the dangers that would happen if I did not do as he said.
I nodded, ducking my head low.
Luna handed me my book and I quickly ran off. As I rounded another corner, I heard Luna say, “You shouldn’t do that.”
“I do whatever I please.” Came the reply. “Anyway, she’s the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange.”
“And you’re the son of—”
“I’m over that now.”
An unsatisfied huff followed that particular announcement.
I quickly hurried along the corridors, going deeper and deeper into the castle, through secret passages and hidden doorways, down flight and flights of steep staircases until I finally reached my destination. I stepped in front of a seemingly empty stonewall.
“Cunning and sly,” I muttered, and the stone door slid open at the password. I stepped cautiously into the dim, green tinted room inside.
I rapidly skirted around the edge of the Slytherin’s common room, trying not to attract any attention. As usual, it did not work.
“Lestrange!” yelled a pug-faced girl. “Come here!”
I closed my eyes, took a deep, calming breath, and slowly walked over to her, a slight smile on my face.
“Yes, Pansy?” I asked her, even though I knew what was coming.
She threw a stack of homework papers to me.
“Finish them by Monday,” Pansy snapped. “What are you doing, just standing there? Get to work!”
“Yes, Pansy,” I mumbled, and went over to a nearby table as Pansy and her cronies guffawed at the sight of me.
I sat down and started doing homework. After I was done with Pansy’s, I pulled out my own and started on that too. Seconds, minutes, then hours crawled pass. When I was finally done with all the work, I looked up and realized I was alone in the common room. The clock read 3:24 a.m. I was just gathering up the papers when the stone door slid open and Draco stepped in.
He froze when he spotted me, standing in one corner with the paperwork in my arms.
“It’s already three in the morning, Lestrange,” He spat. “Shouldn’t you be… asleep? What are you still doing here?”
I showed him the homework, deciding that maybe the truth was the best for this case.
“Pansy asked me to help her with her work,” I said truthfully.
He raised his eyebrows.
“And you agreed?” He asked skeptically. “What sort of Slytherin are you, to do other’s dirty work for them?”
I hung my head and kept silent. Obviously it was a rhetorical question.
He strode over to me, and snatched the papers away.
I gave a little squeal of surprise, but I resisted the urge to take it back.
“What are you do—” I started, watching in horror as he stalked over to the still-blazing fireplace. “No!”
But it was already done. I stared in disbelief as my hours of hard work slowly curled to ashes.
And when I looked up from the fireplace, Draco was gone.
That was the time I decided I had enough.
I walked slowly over to the stone door, and it slid open at my touch. I proceeded along empty corridors, up long passages, and into the Great Hall.
I went over to the big castle door hoping it would be easy to open, but it had a big chain and an even bigger lock on its handles.
“Alohomora,” I muttered. The lock did not budge. “Relashio. Diffindo!”
Finally, I got an idea.
“Defodio!”
The lock landed on the ground next to me, a huge chunk of it gouged out.
I turned to the chains.
“Deprimo.”
The chains fell away.
“Expulso!”
The door was blasted open. A sudden cold breeze came rushing in, ruffling my long, wavy dark hair that people always credited to my mother: Bellatrix Lestrange.
I stepped out into the grounds, the cool night air tingling my skin. I took a deep breath, staring out into the across the grounds…
I froze. A figure stood near the Whomping Willow, her white blonde hair glistening in the moonlight.
I took a step back, but Luna had already spotted me. She raised one hand in a greeting, and then gestured for me to join her.
To join or not to join, that was the question. I decided on join. After all, what was the harm? Luna didn’t seem the type to report on me, and I had to go to the Whomping Willow anyway. I had hidden supplies there, preparation for the inevitable.
I cautiously walked to where Luna was standing.
“Hi,” She said vacantly, then went back to patting the air in front of her.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“You can’t see them? Well, that is a rather normal reaction.” She replied hazily.
Okay. This was getting weirder and weirder.
“What can’t I see?” I questioned politely.
“The thestrals, of course,” answered Luna vaguely.
I decided not to question her anymore, fearing that that might just result in more confusion.
“So…” I started hesitantly. “You’re taking a walk in the middle of the night.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to come visit the thestrals.” Came the reply.
With anyone else, I would have dismissed the excuse and instantly launched into a series of interrogation, but with Luna… She seemed so sincere.
I bit my lip. Was she lying? It didn’t seem so, but I had to be careful.
“So what are you doing out in the grounds so late at night?” Luna asked me calmly.
“Um…” I searched around furiously for an excuse, but then decided on the truth again. “I’m going to run away.”
Luna turned to me, smiling a little, “That’s nice.”
I blinked. That’s nice? That’s what she had said? No ‘Oh you shouldn’t’s or ‘I won’t let you’s, but ‘That’s nice’?
“Well…” I mumbled, at a loss for words.
“Where would you go?” Luna enquired, now mildly interested.
“Uh… I don’t know,” I admitted. “Just somewhere far, away from this place.”
And far, far away from Slytherin and its members. I added silently in my mind. Far away from Pansy and teachers and everyone… And far away from Draco, too. That was an especially wonderful bonus.
“How did you get out?” I asked, anxious to change the subject.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Luna said distantly. “There’s a secret doorway next to the main doors. I found it years ago, back when I was a first-year. Even the Weasley twins don’t know about it. I could show you if you stayed.”
“Um, alright.” That was the only thing I could think to respond. Weird thing was, Luna wasn’t saying it in a way that made me think that she was trying to stop me. She just honestly wanted to show me.
“Why do you want to leave?” Luna’s dreamy voice jolted me from my reverie.
I didn’t trust her. I shouldn’t trust her. But somewhere deep, deep down, I knew that if I didn’t quickly tell someone, I would shatter under the effort of keeping it in.
So I told Luna, my soft voice resonating around the still grounds. As I spoke, my voice grew from a whisper to a harsh shout. I told her everything, all my troubles with Pansy, troubles with Draco, troubles with myself; how everyone treated me like I was a bomb, waiting to detonate at any moment. Like I was my mother.
At one point of my story, Luna stopped stroking the thestrals and sat down on a large slab of stone. She was a good listener, and she heard me out. She never interrupted, not once, and by the time I was done, I had a sore throat and a strangely peaceful feeling that had settled over me.
“Better?” Luna asked.
I nodded.
“Come on, let’s go back to the castle,” She whispered.
So I followed her towards the gaping hole in the doors, the sky streaked with pink and yellow and all the colours of sunrise.
And from that moment on, Luna and I were friends… At least, we were friends for a little while. But I am getting way ahead of myself.

After that encounter with Luna, Draco started treating me much better: As in, much, much better.
Somehow I got the feeling that Luna had talked him into it.
But I was fine with that. Pansy seemed a little laid off too, and I wondered how Luna had manage to get away with that. But I kept my mouth shut and didn’t complain about the improvement.
We did everything together, Luna and I. I had a sneaking suspicion that Luna purposely arranged that so I wouldn’t get harassed, like, anywhere. After all, nobody was crazy enough to pressure me when ‘Little Miss Oddity’ or ‘Loony Luna’ was around. Luna had this confident air about her that basically repelled bullies. Literary.

I never got a single threat after that. Only Pansy dared do it, and only in the safety of the Slytherin’s common room.
I should have known it couldn’t last. Nothing last forever, after all.
I had just entered my dormitory when I heard the mutterings. I looked up to see Pansy and her fellow tyrants huddled together, whispering furiously. Of course, with my extreme bad luck, I had to share my room with Pansy and her clones. When they finally noticed me, they stopped their conversation and stared pointedly at me.
I walked over to my bed and sat down, drawing the curtains close around. The whispering started up again.
I listened hard, trying to catch what they were saying.
“Draco—” I heard Pansy mutter to one of them. “He—missing—maybe with that weird girl—what’s—name— Loony Luna.”
I stifled a giggle. So they found out about Luna and Draco. Well. It was about time that they realized. Of course, it would take more than a scant rumor to convince Pansy that Draco didn’t like her. She would most likely go investigating.
Sure enough, I heard:
“I—find—the truth—Draco would never—with that—crazy girl—”
I rolled my eyes at Pansy and her fantasies. She’ll find out soon. But for now…
I lay down on the bed, closing my eyes—
“Aquila!”
I sat up quickly as the curtains around me were ripped opened.
“What?!” I shrieked. “Who…?”
Pansy stood there, her arms crossed, staring daggers at me.
“I want you to do something.” She ordered. “Spy on Draco for me. Understand? Track him. I want to know what’s he doing all night.”
“Why can’t you do it yourself?” I snapped irritably. I instantly regretted my words as soon as they came out of my mouth, but it was too late. Pansy’s beady eyes narrowed, and she grabbed my arm, dragging me out of bed.
“Go.” She snarled at me. “NOW!”
Pansy shoved me towards the open door, nearly sending me toppling down three flights of stairs. I stopped myself from falling just in time, and whirled to face her.
“You’ll pay,” I said quietly, then turned and ran down to the common room.
I quickly made my way to the Great Hall, and then proceeded to the main doors. As usual, they were locked. But now I knew a secret trick that Luna had taught me.
I went over to the right side of the giant doors, and placed my hand on the cool wall, pulling out my wand.
“Ostendo,” I whispered, and a hidden door appeared. Luna had made that spell. She was really very smart— a fact close to no one knew, which was a real waste. She was awfully smart…
I tapped the door with my wand, and it slid opened smoothly.
I stepped out into the cool midnight air, determined to stay in the grounds until morning, and ignore Pansy’s threats. But as soon as I took one step out, my blood ran cold, my breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled back into the shadows of the castle.
Far across the grounds, two figures sat on a rock overlooking the lake. Their fingers were entwined, and they were sitting way too close for comfort, their white blonde hair gleaming silver in the moonlight.
Draco.
And Luna.
Together.
I swallowed hard, trying to decide what to do. Should I ignore them, go back to Pansy, and make up a random story of some sort? Should I go up to them and ask them to wipe my memory of that scene so no one would ever know?
‘No, that is a dumb idea.’ I told myself firmly. No point of giving Draco another reason to hate me.
So… What should I do now?
I finally decided on wandering the castle until morning. Better to waste it than to harm somebody—or should I say two somebody— when I can avoid it. Especially if one of them is my enemy and the other is my only friend. And while I walked, I could also think up a really good story to tell Pansy.
As I walked through the silent castle, every shadow stood out: After all, in the depths of darkness, a closet could be a figure, and a mirror, a face.
But the real shock came when I discovered that it also could be in reverse: When I walked passed a seemingly tranquil wardrobe and it sneezed.
On pure instinct, I pulled out my wand and pointed it straight at the figure.
“Stupefy—” I started, ready to follow up with a torrent of other hexes and curses, when the figure shouted, “Expelliarmus!” and with a burst of red light, my wand flew out of my hand, clattering to the floor.
The sky outside rumbled with thunder. Lightning flashed.
“Give. It. BACK!” I screamed at the boy, outraged at my sudden defeat. I was usually top of my class, a fact that caused even more trouble, and I didn’t like being outsmarted this quickly.
“Shh!” He muttered. “Do you want Professor McGonagall after us?”
I clamped my mouth shut. I hadn’t realized how loud I was, but now I knew that it was a miracle that Filch hadn’t caught us yet.
“Sorry,” He whispered. “I was just protecting myself. Here:”
He reached down and picked up my wand, handing it to me.
“Who are you?” I asked curiously.
“Neville. Neville Longbottom.”
My eyes widened. It was just my luck to bump into someone who’s parents—
“And who are you?”
I bit my lip.
“Aquila.” I said truthfully.
“Aquila…?” He questioned pointedly.
“I’m sorry!” I blurted out, my voice rising higher and shriller with each word. “I’m really, really sorry. I couldn’t have stopped it, that wasn’t my fault, I know that you’ll hate me for it, and you really have every right to, of course, but—”
“Hold on a minute,” Neville interrupted, bemused. “What?”
“Lestrange!” I yelled at him, and burst into tears.
Neville jumped so hard it would have been comical if I had not been crying my eyes out. He just stood there, frozen, staring at me.
“I—I’m so so—sorry,” I muttered, then turned, and raced down the corridor.
“Wait!” He called after me, but I was long gone, running past portraits, down flights of stairs, and away, away from everyone. The storm outside grew, and rain started to fall, sheets and sheets of gray rain, the clouds booming with thunder.
I was running blindly, running, running—
I found myself in front of a blank stonewall. I leaned against it, breathing hard. Finally, I straightened, and faced the wall.
“Cunning and sly.”
The door opened, and I went in.
The common room was deserted now. I went over to the hearth, studying the flames dancing wildly in the fireplace.
I sat down on one of the armchairs by the fire, still mesmerized by the raging flames. When my eyelids finally fluttered close, the image of them was still burned into my mind.
Flames.
Fire.
Chaos.
A hysterical laugh came into my dream consciousness, roaring with dark humor. The flames turned black as the laughter continued, smoke rising everywhere, suffocating me. Just as I couldn’t stand it anymore, the flames slowly cleared away from my vision, revealing a dais and a woman.
She was tall, with long and wavy dark hair cascading down her back. Her features were sharp, with a face that once might have been stunningly beautiful, but was marred with years of pride and arrogance and a lack of care. Her skin was tinged gray, and her eyes—
Her eyes were coal black. But there was more to it than that. It was pure black, but it seemed to have a depth to it that no description could fully capture.
The way the woman’s eyes bored straight into me was creepy. She herself was creepy. She shook me up even worse than anything else had, this woman with her uncanny resemblance to me—
And then I knew. I knew the reason why she resembled me, the reason why she seemed so familiar…
“Mom?” I whispered, not daring to believe it.
She did not smiled.
“Aquila, my daughter,” Bellatrix Lestrange said coldly. “A disappointment to the noble heir of Black. A softhearted girl.”
My eyes were stinging. My own mother was calling me a disappointment?
“I’ll try harder,” I said in earnest. “I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll be a true Slytherin. I’ll be a true Black—”
My voice trailed off.
“Black? Not-Not Lestrange?”
She ignored my question. She took a step towards the dais, and lifted something from its surface. Something sharp.
Bellatrix turned to me, and held the object out to me, a question in her steely dark eyes: Will you take it?
I stepped forward and accepted it with both hands.
A dagger, still tucked inside its sheath.
“Sometimes you don’t need a wand; you need a weapon,” Bellatrix told me quietly. “A last resort.”
Then she smiled, maniacal humor dancing in her sable eyes, and I realized that the woman staring back at me was crazy. She had murdered crowds and tortured millions.
And I didn’t care. It was utterly insane, but I simply didn’t care anymore.
I was done with stepping down. I was going to start stepping up.
“Good,” Bellatrix purred, smiling wider. “Good.”
I smiled back.
Then someone was shaking my shoulder.
“Remember!” Bellatrix said urgently. “Remember that we are all proud descendents of—”
“Get UP, Lestrange!” Someone screeched, roughly shaking me.
I jolted awake, breathing hard. It had been a dream. All just a dream.
I suddenly noticed an object in my hands. A dagger, still tucked inside its silver sheath.
I froze.
“So. Did you find Draco, or what?” Pansy yelled at me.
I stared at her, not really listening.
“W-what?” I mumbled.
Pansy rolled her eyes.
“I. Don’t. Have. The. TIME FOR THIS!” She shouted. “TELL ME: DID YOU FIND DRACO?”
Then she did something even worse. She hit me, hard, across the face.
I sprang up from the chair, Bellatrix’s words pounding through my head.
A disappointment…
…Softhearted…
…Sometimes… You need a weapon…
On pure instinct, I swiftly unsheathed the dagger and threw it at Pansy. My aim was perfect.
The black dagger soared through the air, straight at Pansy. Her eyes widened, her mouth opened to scream, but she never got the chance. The dagger lodged in her throat, and she fell to her knees, staring in horror at me.
“Too late to apologize now, Pansy,” I told her mildly. “Maybe in the afterlife, perhaps?”
I stepped forward, and dislodged the bloodied dagger from her throat. Pansy crumpled to the floor, lifeless and unmoving.
I ripped a piece of fabric from the hem of her robes, and wiped the dagger clean with it.
It was a thin blade, with jagged edges and a cruel point. Some sort of ancient words were inscribed at the borders.
I squinted hard, and the words rearranged themselves.
“A blade forged for the legacy of…” I read, trying to catch the last few words, but they were too faded to catch.
I threw the bloodstained rag into the fire, and turned to Pansy.
“Evanesco,” I muttered, and she disappeared.
Suddenly, the horror of what I’d done forced itself upon me, and I stumbled back into the armchair, sinking down into it.
I’d just killed a fellow student, a crime that would definitely not be overlooked.
I took a deep breath, calming myself, and stood.
I walked over to one of the ornate mirrors in the common room. A girl with dark hair and frightened doe eyes stared back out at me. I forced myself to calm down, to lock away the horror, and the girl in the mirror did the same. I readjusted my features until I was happy with what I saw:
What I saw was a young woman with long and wavy dark hair, and intent blue eyes. But there was more to it than that. It was pure blue, but it seemed to have a depth to it that no description could fully capture.
I smiled, and the same maniacal glee filled me.
I was a woman worthy of Slytherin: A girl worthy of her mother.


Part Two

The next day was a gloomy one. The clouds were dark, threatening rain, the wind cold and harsh. No one was out in the grounds.
Aquila went about her normal business as usual, but Luna could see that her friend was different. Maybe it was the way that she shrugged off the insults that everyone said to her; maybe it was her sudden change of style— Black robes with highlights of green, a silver necklace hung around her neck, and a dagger on its silver sheath, around her waist— but Luna knew it wasn’t all that.
It was the way that Aquila acted: the spring in her step, the gleam in her eyes, and, most mysterious of all, the glow that Luna felt: an aura of evil and malicious thoughts.
Aquila now held her chin high, her posture relaxed, and a confident, if slightly insane smile on her face. She laughed more often, and she never looked the slightest bit frightened.
Luna wasn’t sure why she felt uneasy— She should be happy for her friend — but still the doubts persisted, and they strengthened when the ghost appeared.
It was in the middle of a serious transfiguration class. Aquila had gone to her own class, being a year younger than Luna, and Luna was just getting settled in her seat when she appeared.
The pug-faced ghost.
“MURDER!” Pansy shrieked, making everyone (but Luna) jump up with surprise.
Pansy had appeared at the front of the class, making Professor McGonagall start in bewilderment. She hovered a foot in the air, screaming her head off.
“MURDER! MURDER! MURDER!”
“M-Miss Parkinson?” Professor McGonagall actually fumbled for words. “Is this— I hope this isn’t a foolish trick?”
“MURDER!”
Whispers filled the room.
“S-She’s dead?”
“Must be.”
“How—?”
The first thing that ran through Luna’s mind was that Moaning Myrtle had a good companion.
Professor McGonagall had retained her composure. She turned to the class, and with a swift look the whole class fell silent.
“Miss Parkinson,” Professor McGonagall faced Pansy again, saying each word deliberately and clearly. “Who murdered you?”
“T-that girl!” Pansy stuttered to a stop, her eyes widening, and her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. Everyone leaned forward to catch her hushed words.
“She killed me… S-she murdered me in my own common room!”
Pansy’s voice slowly rose in volume, and her last words were a screech.
“She murdered me! Aquila Lestrange! SHE MURDERED ME! AND YOU!”
She swooped toward Luna.
“YOU HELPED HER!”
Professor McGonagall tapped her wand on her desk impatiently, and Luna could have sworn that the Professor actually rolled her eyes. Subtly, but still an eye roll.
“Miss Parkinson,” She said briskly. “We all know that you have a dislike for Aquila and her, ah, friend, but it is clear that Luna could not have killed you. She was helping me prepare for class last night. And Aquila…”
Professor McGonagall’s face softened for a moment.
“She would never have done such a thing.”
Pansy pulled back her collar, revealing a dark stain in her neck.
“Aquila murdered me!” She pouted, scrunching up her already disfigured face. “She had a dagger with a black blade! Loony Luna, you must have seen it! She wearing it all over the castle!”
Everyone turned questioningly to Luna. She shrugged.
“Is this true?” Professor McGonagall inquired.
Luna nodded slowly.
“But is that all the evidence we need to accuse Aquila?” Luna asked. “After all, Pansy does have a running hatred for her. Do we believe it that easily?”
The whole class stared at her, not used to Luna actually saying something sensible perhaps.
“Well,” Professor McGonagall said dryly, breaking the silence. “I guessed Miss Lovegood did learn something after all.”
Everyone looked sheepishly away, all except Pansy, who shrieked with apparent outrage and frustration and hurtled from the room.
Pansy wasn’t sure where exactly she was going, only that she had to get her revenge. To avenge herself… What better excuse?
Of course, that was her plan, until she spotted two figures ahead of her. She gritted her teeth when she saw Aquila, and opened her mouth to start shouting insanities at her, but then froze when she saw whom the other was.
Instantly, a million questions flashed through her head. What was Aquila doing here? Shouldn’t she be in some class? How had she managed to get away? Why was she here?
But the most pressing question: Why was Draco here too?
Pansy decided to listen, but not be seen. She drifted through a nearby wall.
Aquila and Draco were standing about a meter apart, glaring at each other.
“What are you doing here?” He hissed at her. “You sent the note, didn’t you? I thought it was Luna. If I had known it was you, I wouldn’t have come.”
Aquila rolled her sharp blue eyes.
“Exactly. Why do you think I signed Luna’s name instead of mine? I’m not stupid, you know.” She responded harshly.
Draco arched an eyebrow.
“I’ve never noticed.”
Aquila glared at him with so much hatred that he almost flinched, but Draco stopped himself just in time. Not in front of her.
They stood there, frozen, for a few more moments, each tense and coiled, waiting for the other to make the first move.
Finally, Draco took out his wand.
“I don’t know what you’re here for, and I really don’t care. Just—” He started, but Aquila was faster. Her wand shot into her hand, and Draco hesitated, momentarily taken by surprise. That moment: that was all Aquila needed.
“Expelliarmus!”
Draco’s wand flew out of his hand and landed with a clatter on the hallway floor. Swiftly, Aquila used her lower arm to push him towards the wall, dragging him until his neck was pinned was between the wall and her lower arm. She leveled her wand at him.
Aquila gave him a cloying smile.
“Don’t worry… I’ll let you go soon…” She said breezily, her voice sickeningly sweet. “Just one last thing—”
She swept her icy-cold eyes over him, still savoring the moment.
“Imperios!”
A tingling sensation went through her arm, and she laughed with delight. This was what she was good at, not cowering in a corner, not lying down so others could step on her. She wanted the control, and she knew that that would make the connection all the stronger. She longed for the control, the ability to manipulate others.
Draco’s eyes took on a glassier look, but other than that, he looked perfectly normal. She willed him to take a step backwards. He did. She willed him to not have that horribly vacant look. His eyes stopped looking glassy, and he straightened a little.
Of course, Aquila could sense the endless struggle against her control. The struggle to be free of her, to get away. But she ignored them. She ignored what Draco wanted to do, and, instead, focused on what she wanted to do.
But still he managed to squeeze through her spell. Before she willed him to return to class, he suddenly broke through.
“Why—are—you—doing—this?” He asked softly, every word a struggle, his eyes still trained over her shoulder.
Aquila laughed softly, a sound with not the slightest trace of humor.
“Why do I do this?” She pondered out loud, her voice shaking with anger. “Why do I do this? Well, let’s see.”
Her resentment flared, and she clenched her fists in an effort not to blast Draco into itsy-bitsy bits. No, she must wait: For the greater good. She calmed herself with a few deep breaths, and then continued on, her voice now low and dangerous.
“I kept quiet my entire time at Hogwarts, even when the Slytherins spited me, and the rest of the school edged away from me because of my mother. I even kept quiet when the Dark Lord took over the school: a chance that I didn’t take. I kept my head down, my voice soft, my head buried in a book. I never stuck around with friends, and I never even bothered trying to get any friends. Don’t you think it’s time I showed everyone the true me? Don’t you think it’s time I let go of my hatred? My longing to pull down the castle, brick by brick?”
Draco did not respond, and Aquila was glad of that. Tears were pooling in her eyes, something that usually never happened, and she wasn’t sure why they were coming now, of all time. She quickly looked away, and was almost about to willed him back to class when she remembered the real reason she had come to all this trouble.
Aquila looked straight into Draco’s eyes, and transmitted the plan to him; Her master plan, her revenge. She could feel his struggle bubbling up more than ever in retaliation of the scheme, but she pushed them aside, enjoying the thought of his ever-growing desperation to defy her— a feat that he certainly couldn’t do. Surely he knew that by now.
Aquila reveled in his despair for a moment, before making him walk back to his class. Her tears were gone now, and a dry smile tugged at her lips. She turned and stalked off, away from the corridor.
Pansy waited until Aquila’s footsteps faded away, then let out a squeak of terror and joy. Joy because she would have some leverage and proof against Aquila, and terror because…
Because it was scary.
The only time that Pansy had seen Aquila like that— Aquila had murdered her.
Now this.
This… Manipulating of Draco’s mind. Pansy was pretty sure it was going to result in casualties. But whose? Whose death? Pansy’s team of girls? If so, why Draco? Why not one of the girls themselves?
Pansy shook her head. She usually didn’t have to solve a murder case… Or a not-yet-done murder, at least. All this thinking was giving her a massive headache. All she knew for certain: She was going to have to tattle.

That's all for now!

Notes: Sorry that there's no paragraphs… I copied and pasted…