Hogwarts Story: Part 32

[unforth]

With extra thanks to sapphohestia for unknowningly suggesting a way that I could integrate something that I had thought I was going to have to leave out! It's been very difficult, within the constraints of a first person narrative, to put in the things that Delia didn't really know about but which I learned about through talking with people. I've noticed some stuff I've left out, too, which needs to be worked in. So it's nice to get those pieces involved. :)

Anyway, woke up early so had time to write, but now I gotta run and get ready to meet folks. It's a long way to Yokohama. ;)


All I really wanted to do was leave. But the reasons that had brought me here in the first place still held, and I knew I had to stay. Gluing that forced smile back on my face, I joined Fred at the edge of the dance floor. She looked as wide eyed as everybody else. She seemed to search for something to say, opening her mouth several times before closing it again, before she spoke. “You dance very well,” was what she settled on.

“Thank you,” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. The Headmaster was still watching me with that concerned look. Nox had left the dance floor as well, and in his wake, after too long a delay, the music had started again, and slowly couples were making their way out on to the floor. Inadvertently, I glanced around to see where the horrible man had gone, and saw him talking quietly with someone who I couldn’t make out through the crowd. It must have been a student, to be so short. “Excuse me,” I said to Fred, worried. I hadn’t seen Nox speak with any students in such a covert fashion. Except me, I realized unhappily.

Edging around the crowd, I tried to see who it was he had been speaking to, but it wasn’t until they left that I got a glimpse of who it must have been. Galatea was working her way out of the crowd, and Nox had risen, clearly done with is conversation. Galatea, who was too strong for her size, too heavy, who didn’t remember her early childhood, who knew more about automata than any one I’d ever known except for Professor Tremens herself. Galatea, who I had been starting to think might be the automata based on the “Cherished” designs I took from Tremens’ office. Those designs were the work of the Professor when she worked with Palucid Nox. No, more than that, “Cherished” was Palucid Nox and Icaria Tremens’ daughter. If I was right, if that was Galatea…I hurried over to meet her. She looked distinctly nervous, and that only was emphasized when she saw me approaching.

“Oh! Delia,” she said, flustered. “Congratulations on making Head Girl.” She was eyeing the door as if she wanted nothing more than to leave. Nox must have asked her to do something. How could I convince her that she shouldn’t listen to him?

“Is everything alright, Galatea?”

“Everything’s fine,” she laughed unconvincingly. “I’m sorry, but I really have to go.” She turned and started to leave. I caught her arm, and was, as usual, shocked by how solid it was. I couldn’t have stopped her unless she had been willing to stop already.

“I’m just worried,” I explained. I tried to hurry; I wasn’t sure how long she would wait. “Professor Tremens’ doesn’t trust him. I don’t think we should either.”

She laughed again, and this time it sounded far more genuine. My nerves were having a bad night, I decided, as they gave another start. “Everything’s fine,” she said again, more firmly. She pulled away from my grip as if I was a child. “I really do have to go.” And she left the ballroom. I almost followed her. But I thought of our image, and how it would look, and I stayed. Looking back, knowing now what was to come, I know that I chose poorly that night.

I turned back to the ballroom, and was pleased to see that during my brief conversation things had gone basically back to normal. Fred had trailed behind me a little ways, looking worried, and I went to join her. Couples swirled in a complex set dance, Candy harangued Nox, and the Headmaster had gone back to looking generally angry. Just how the ball should be.

“Sorry,” I apologized to Fred, “I’m just a little worried about her.|”

She hurriedly explained that it was no problem, and we went back to talking. After a little while, though, I noticed something was distracting her. Her eyes kept flickering, just for a moment, to one of the talking groups. Supposing that she wanted to join them, I excused myself from our conversation and went to get a little food. In truth, I had yet to really find any appetite what with the events of the evening, but it made a good escape, and sure enough, Fred very timidly approached the group. I knew only one of the students in it, a tall Ravenclaw in his last year named Elliot. The rest were Gryffindor’s, none of whom I know, all clustered around Ramjit Singh, the very handsome Care of Magical Creatures Professor, and the head of Gryffindor. To my amazement, it was to him that Fred addressed herself, all blushes. At first, he shook his head no to whatever she asked, but just as a new song began, he sighed and apparently acquiesced, and Fred pulled him out onto the dance floor to the jeers and smiles of the students watching. She looked so very happy, I couldn’t help but smile.

Comments

[sapphohestia.livejournal.com]

Yay!

[unforth.livejournal.com]

Until you mentioned that Fred danced with Ramjit, I'd been thinking I'd have to leave that whole plot line out, but now I think I can probably work it in. At worst, I can allude to it as something weird going on in the background. ;)

[buzzermccain.livejournal.com]

Ah yes... Tsk-tsk. Ranjit the cradle-robber. Though, honestly, in 1911 I doubt it would really have been a live issue. I suspect he wouldn't have raised any eyebrows.

[unforth.livejournal.com]

Of course, the love potion MIGHT have been a factor; unfortunately, Delia never found out about it, so it'll have to be omitted...