A jostling crowd, billowing smoke, a piercing whistle. All her life Armelle Banks had loved that moment before you stepped aboard a train: the anticipation of what would happen next, the knowledge that you were leaving something behind. It could be daunting, but the prospect of starting a journey towards something new was almost overwhelming. It was like standing on the edge.

She sat on her trunk and observed her family saying their goodbyes. Her mother was the perfect picture of her profession (senior librarian at England’s largest magical library)-- tall, slim and bespectacled. Her father’s round, mustached face was absent, as he had left his family early that morning for the Ministry and was not present on the platform. As he had said before he departed, “After just getting back from holiday you can’t very well take another day off, can you?”

“I’ll be perfectly fine, Mum,” Armelle assured her mother. Tears glistened in the older woman’s eyes.

Two sisters and a brother, all younger, waited in line to assure their mother of the same thing. Armelle had already told her mother that there was nothing to worry about; none of them were like poor Moaning Myrtle. Her youngest and moodiest sister had kicked Armelle in the shin. A Gryffindor, a Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff, and a Slytherin. It was like having a Four Founders club in your own home.

“I’ll see you at Christmas,” she said as she received a last, too-tight hug from her mother.

She gave her mother and siblings a final shiny, reassuring smile, before stepping onto the train and over the edge.

-

The Hogwarts Express wound speedily through the country-side like a large, red snake. Fields of uncut grass zoomed past the windows as Armelle walked down the aisle, fumbling with her Prefect’s badge.

She herself had been surprised when she had been made Prefect in her fifth year. Not casually brilliant like some people she knew, Armelle did well in subjects where a lot of research and study were involved, such as History of Magic or Transfiguration. The only class she found herself naturally good at was Care of Magical Creatures. The Prefect meetings were a pain, but she secretly enjoyed the extra responsibility.

Spotting broad shoulders and a head of ginger hair up ahead, she expertly darted through the people milling about the aisle.

“Stellar?” she asked, hoping she had not gotten him confused with someone else.

Johnny Stellar turned to face her. She could see the new Head Boy badge pinned to his robes. “Armelle,” he greeted with a smile, “I was looking for you.”

“Oh?”

She had never really had a proper conversation with him before, just a scatter of words in between classes now and then.

He nodded. “You and I are to do the corridors for the last half of the ride.”

Patrolling with the new Head Boy sounded good to her. “Congratulations, by the way,” she said, indicating the badge.

He smiled again. His teeth were very white. “Thanks.”

They arranged to meet up front in a few hours and she set off back down the corridor. Had he picked her out specifically to patrol with him or was she the only one left? Not that it mattered.

Eventually she located a compartment filled with Slytherins. She slid open the door to a general greeting. She gazed around the compartment at her assembled classmates. Avery, Goyle, Gibbon…

Armelle knew that she would find Tom Riddle, lounging comfortably in the corner, but had still wished that she would have been able to avoid him during the train ride. He stared at her as if she had just walked in on some private meeting.

She knew Tom would be the Head Boy next year, without a doubt. Every professor and his mother adored Tom Riddle. Armelle herself pretended not to notice what he did outside of class when the professors weren’t looking and she got left alone.

“Morning all,” she said, before turning her attention to the boy sitting by the door. “Care for a walk?” she asked him quickly. She wanted to get away from the awkward and interrupted feeling she had caused in the cabin.

“Ta, lads,” he said to the rest of the compartment, before following her out the door.

Kane Glaston provided a sharp contrast to Armelle’s sun-bronzed complexion and thick, tawny hair with his too strong Irish accent, milky white skin and overlapping front teeth. He was the person she spent the majority of her time with when at school.

“What was going on in there?” she asked. There was no ‘Hello, how was your summer?’ between them. Once at school they slipped into a familiarity that was six years in the making. The words ‘best mate’ floated between them, never said.

Kane shrugged. “Riddle going on about something. I was doing a word search.”

Armelle did her best to refrain from asking about the things Tom did, but curiosity got the best of her sometimes. “I’m sure,” she muttered, arching an eyebrow. “Should we hide all the Muggle-borns away in the kitchens?”

“No idea.” He steered her towards an empty compartment.

“Right.” She plopped down onto the seat. “You don’t even like word searches.”

Kane pulled a crumpled Daily Prophet from his robes. “What’s a seven letter word for nosey prat?”

-

During the feast, Armelle found herself sitting between one of the girls from her dorm and Tom Riddle. After an obligatory few minutes discussing the summer break with her dorm mate, she set her concentration on her potatoes.

She felt a tap on her shoulder. It was Riddle. “Pass the carrots?” he asked.

Armelle nodded and passed him the dish. She didn’t really feel like getting into a conversation with him about the merits of Muggle hunting. Her attitude towards most of the things Tom solidly believed in was simple. Although she didn’t agree with him, he could think Muggles were animals if he wanted to. She just didn’t want to hear about it.

He wasn’t going to let her off that easy, it seemed. “So, Banks,” he began slowly, piling carrots onto his plate. “How was your summer?”

She endeavored to keep her eyebrows from rising in suspicion. Why did he care? “Fine, I guess. We went to France.”

“We?”

“My family. Who else would I go with?” She began picking at her potatoes, eager for the conversation to be over.

He was silent for a moment. Armelle guessed he had lost interest. “Sounds like a good time,” he said eventually. “You look a lot like your mother, by the way.”

Armelle laughed. That was a stretch. “You must need glasses, Riddle,” she muttered, trying not to puff up. Telling her that she even looked at little like Fay Banks was certainly a compliment.

Riddle smiled and his face seemed to take on a more charming, optimistic look. “You do. She was the tall woman with the glasses on the platform this morning?”

Armelle nodded.

“You don’t seem nearly as stuffy as her, though. She looks like she should be a librarian.”

She mentally shook herself. Why did he care about her mother? Trying to ignore his charming, earnest-looking smile, she turned back to her supper. “She is.”

“I thought as much,” he said, and, seeming satisfied, turned back to his as well.

She pushed her suspicions about Riddle to the back of her mind and concentrated on dessert.

-


As it was after any kind of Hogwarts feast, Armelle was surprised her robes didn’t rip as she herded first years down to the dungeons. After she had shown the scared-looking first years to their dorms, she headed for her own, all suspicions about her conversation with Riddle driven from her mind.

Professor Dippet had talked for some time about the ‘Wizarding community’. In the aftermath of the previous year’s events, they should try and forget pure-blood, Muggle-born, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, and just try to see the wizard. She could tell he didn’t really believe it himself. She had been ushered into Slytherin just because an old hat said she should be. After years of experience she knew that this was the place where she belonged (she could not even imagine herself in any of the other Houses) but having some people look at her as if they just knew she was up to no good could get very tiring.

Armelle climbed into bed, the idle chatter of her dorm mates floating around her. Drifting off to sleep, she wondered just where she stood, all classifications aside, in the grand scheme of things.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

Rustle, rustle, thump.

“…Umm, I think it’s on page forty-three…”

Muffled library noises filled the air around her while Armelle smiled a small smile of contentment. She had always enjoyed hiding away with an assignment in the very back of a library; the dusty smell and muted sounds made her think of her mother.

She sat at a table far in the back, sheltered by the rarely-used Ministry of Magic shelf, Arithmancy books piled high around her like a fortress. Kane had left her an hour ago to pursue more exciting activities and had not been seen by her since. She didn’t mind, she needed to get this done, and Kane tended to be nothing but a distraction while studying. Maybe when she was finished she would find him and suggest a game of Quidditch.

“Umm… excuse me?”

“What?” Armelle snapped without looking up, annoyed at the interruption.

“Oh, sorry to bother you… I’ll just leave you alone.”

Armelle looked around for the source of the voice. She couldn’t find it until she moved the stack of books in front of her.

Ruby Stevenson stood before her, looking mildly frightened. Armelle found that the girl always looked a little frightened whenever they encountered each other. Ruby was a Hufflepuff in her year, so small and thin that a gust of wind might knock her over. They shared most of their classes.

“Oh, hullo Ruby,” Armelle greeted softly, trying not to scare her away. “Sorry about that, I didn’t see it was you.”

Ruby smiled timidly. “That’s okay. Ah, do you mind if I…?” She indicated a chair.

“Go ahead.”

Armelle was a little puzzled about the nature of this encounter. She knew Ruby well enough to ask for some spare parchment, but not enough for library visits.

Ruby tucked her mousey brown hair behind her ears and sat down. “What are you studying?” she asked, peering at the stack of books that were nearly as tall as she was.
“Arithmancy.” She indicated the numbers scrawled on the parchment with a groan. “I don’t know why I took it. Turns out I hate numbers.”

Ruby’s eyes widened as if she couldn’t believe anyone could hate numbers. “Really? I love Arithmancy!” She then began chewing on her thumb, as if she had said too much.

The librarian stared at them from across the room, aware that they were talking instead of working. Armelle moved some books around to look busy. “So, what brings you to the library?” she asked, not knowing where else to take the conversation.

Despite Armelle’s efforts, Ruby began to look uncomfortable again. “Well… I wanted to ask you a question, actually.”

Armelle tried not to look surprised. “Really? What is it?”

Ruby seemed to be rallying her courage for a moment. “Um, well, I was wondering… maybe you’d be able to… tutor me?”

Armelle’s eyebrows disappeared into her hair. “What?” she sputtered, forgetting to be gentle.

Ruby seemed to shrink. “In Care of Magical Creatures.”

Well, she thought to herself, that makes sense. I’m not good enough at anything else. “Ruby, I don’t think…”

“Oh, I understand…”

Armelle squirmed uncomfortably under Ruby’s wide-eyed gaze. “It’s just that I…” She knew that if this was anyone else asking she would just say no and that would be it. She couldn’t imagine tutoring would have any benefit for her. Trying to teach someone things they just didn’t understand sounded like nothing but a new source of frustration. But Ruby looked small and defeated, like some kind of wounded animal. “Why do you need a tutor for Care of Magical Creatures, anyway?”

Ruby continued to pick at her thumb. “Well, my parents breed winged horses… I only barely passed my O.W.L. I don’t know what they’d do if I failed my N.E.W.T next year and you’re the best in our year!”

She had never given anybody academic help before. “I’ve never… I wouldn’t know how--”

Perhaps Ruby could see her defenses cracking. “Please? You get wages and everything! The school has a Ministry sponsored program for it.”

Armelle mentally cringed. “All right.”

Ruby’s small mouth erupted into a wide smile. “Oh, thank you, Armelle!” Ruby looked like she wanted to hug Armelle, but thought better of it. “It won’t be so bad, I--I promise! I’ve got to owl mum and tell her!” She almost skipped away, knocking a book off the table.

Armelle absently picked it up. A tutor? Could she actually teach someone? Little Ruby Stevenson had looked like a dear in the wand-light. How could she say no? Kane would tell her she was getting soft.

She continued her work, feeling agitated and flustered. She felt a little as if she had been tricked into more extra-curricular work. Where was her cliché Slytherin standoffish exterior? She squared her shoulders and pushed her quill into the parchment to complete her sum with the number seven. The quill snapped in half in her hands and ink blotted her paper.

Armelle cursed and began digging in her bag for her wand.

A small, grey quill dropped onto her parchment. She looked up in deep annoyance and saw someone that she would rather not have to deal with at that moment.

Tom Riddle slid out the chair opposite her and sat down. His sharp, smug face provided Armelle with such a contrast with Ruby’s honest and nervous profile that all her frustration about being a tutor vanished.

“Thanks, but I’ve got an extra one here somewhere,” she muttered, pushing the quill back towards him.

He shrugged, his handsome face relaxed but his eyes alert. “Keep it. I have more.”

She reluctantly picked it up and dipped it in ink. Her conversation with him during the feast came slowly back to her. Why did he keep talking to her? “Thanks.”

He gazed around the library for a moment, looking lost in thought.

“Kane isn’t here,” she offered.

Tom looked at her, startled out of his thoughts. “I didn’t come all the way up here to talk to Kane Glaston,” he said with a smirk. “I wanted to talk to you.”

For a moment, Armelle was almost flattered. Riddle was good looking, smart, a Slytherin, and he had something to talk to her about. But then she remembered what Kane had told her about him, the name Riddle made his friends call him in secret. She shook her head clear of the thought. She was not some witless, giggling Hufflepuff.

Trying not to look too curious, she found her wand and Vanished the spilled ink from her work. “About what?”

He ignored her question and instead asked, “Who were you just talking to?”

“Ruby Stevenson?”

He shrugged.

Armelle bent back down to her work. “She’s in our year,” she replied slowly. She did not want to know his opinion about Ruby. “I’m tutoring her.”

Tom sat back in his chair. “She’s practically a Mudblood,” he told her contemptuously.

“How do you mean?”

He looked at her as if that was the first thing she should have found out. “Both her parents are dirty Mudbloods.”

“Oh, really?” Armelle muttered, tracing figures into the tabletop with her quill. She hadn’t known, nor did she care. If Riddle had bothered to trace the Banks family tree back a couple of generations he certainly wouldn’t be sitting in the library with her.

Tom nodded.

She shrugged, eager to get off the subject. “I’m getting paid.”

He looked as if he was about to say something else, regarded her for a tense moment, and then smiled. “I’ve started a little side project this year, Armelle, and there’s a part of it I’d like you to help me with.”

Armelle was instantly suspicious. “What kind of side project?” She couldn’t help asking. The look in Riddle’s eyes told her that she should not have asked. She began stowing her things into her bag, eager for the conversation to be over.

“I can’t say right now,” he said quietly, learning over the table towards her, “but you’ll see soon enough.”

She swung her bag over her shoulder and stood up. Whatever he was doing, she wanted no part in it. “Sorry, Tom,” she said as lightly as she could manage, avoiding his glaring eyes. “My schedule’s pretty full this year. I don’t have time for anything else.”

“We’ll see.” He grinned and slid back into his chair.

Armelle hurried away as quickly as she could without breaking into a run. Johnny Stellar waved at her from the check out desk, and she waved back, but did not bother to stop and talk, feeling Riddle’s eyes on her back the entire way.

Armelle loved Saturday morning breakfast. She could sleep in until whenever she pleased and still amble up to the Great Hall and pile her plate with eggs and kippers without having to worry about being late for class. This deliciously relaxed portion of the day made even the busiest of weeks seem like days long past.

But unlike most Saturdays, today she had something that she needed to do. Her first ever tutoring session with Ruby was that night and she needed to be prepared. After browsing through all her Care of Magical Creatures text books, she had decided that their first lesson should be hands on. Kane was meeting her at the edge of the forest in half an hour to help look for a fairy nest.

Swallowing her last bit of scrambled eggs, she looked up to see Riddle and Avery enter the Great Hall. Quickly, she finished her orange juice, picked up her bag, and left.

She was not afraid of Tom, exactly. She was, after all, a fellow Slytherin, and had known him for six years. She just wanted to avoid another encounter; she was not scared now, but she was nervous to refuse him again.

On her way across the Entrance Hall, Armelle saw her eldest sister, Cordelia, and her brother, Bran, at the foot of the staircase. She crossed the hall to meet them.

“Where are you two headed off to?” she asked suspiciously.

Cordelia’s arms were laden with parchment and Armelle could see the obvious, lumpy signs of filched food stuffed down the front of Bran’s robes.

“Bran, Shaula and I are meeting up to write matching letters to mum,” Cordelia explained.

Armelle gave her a confused look.

“So one of us doesn’t let something bad slip and make her go mad with nerves,” Cordelia clarified.

Armelle nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Care to join us?” Bran asked, shifting under the bulk of his concealed snacks.

“Can’t,” she said, shaking her head. “I have some very important and admirable business to attend to.”

“I’m sure,” Bran snorted, as if he could not believe anything she would be doing could be important or admirable.

Armelle was slightly hurt by this reaction, but she did her best not to show it. “I do! I am a prefect, remember?” She tapped the badge pinned to her chest.

“Oh!” Cordelia realized aloud. “You’re starting your tutoring tonight.” She took a moment to rummage in her bag and produced a large, glossy book. She handed it to Armelle.

Armelle looked at the cover. “Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?”

Cordelia smiled. “The newest addition. You should borrow it for your first session.”

“Wow, thanks! I’ll bring it back when I’m done.”

“Just don’t dog-ear the pages,” Cordelia said sternly, always a Ravenclaw.

“We’ve got to go and meet Shaula,” Bran interrupted. “Sure you don’t want to come?”

She shook her head. “And that food better not be stolen from the kitchens!” she called after them halfheartedly as she set off towards the doors.

Armelle did not see her brother or sisters very often during the school year. They were all younger than her and in separate houses. During the summer holidays they got along as well as siblings could be expected to, but while at Hogwarts… she could feel the eyes of her sister’s friends linger on her for too long while they spoke, as if they didn’t feel she should be there. How had she gotten such a bad reputation just for being in Slytherin? She was a tutor and a prefect (though getting paid to be one and slacking off on her duties for the other)!

The chilly fall wind buffeted her cloak with searching fingers, hoping for a way in. She pulled her cloak around her as she made her way towards the forest. It was a nice enough day, and the trees would provide some shelter from the wind.

Once under the shadow of the forest, she unpacked a small birdcage that she had borrowed from Shaula and her wand and waited for Kane. After a couple of minutes she could see his slouched outline bobbing towards her from across the grounds. Years of being told off by her mother for not sitting up straight had instilled an irritation over bad posture within her.

“Hurry up!” she called to him. “It’s cold out here.”

“What’s the matter, Armelle?” he asked as he arrived at the forest’s edge. “Too scared to wait here by yourself?”

She shot him a dirty look as they advanced into the forest, holding their wands aloft to spot any nests. As Kane knew, she did not particularly like the forest with all its mysterious stories and nighttime noises, and it made her uncomfortable to even be at the edge of it.

She stared up into the branches of a tall fir tree. “I think I see one up there,” she said, tucking the cage under her arm. “Give me a leg up.”

Kane raised his eyebrows at her. “You’re going to climb it?”

“Well I’m certainly not going to let you climb it. You’d only fall out and break something, and I’m not going to be the one to carry you all the way up to the hospital wing.”

He shrugged. “I’m sure the branches will cushion your fall.” He smirked, but hoisted her up onto the lower branches nevertheless. She would have to climb further up to see if there was really a nest there.

“Armelle?”

“Yeah?” she grunted, pulling herself onto a higher branch.

“Have you, um, been talking to Riddle lately?” His muffled voice floated up to her through the branches, sounding a little anxious.

She abruptly stopped inching along the branch at the mention of Riddle’s name. “Ah, not really,” she managed slowly. “Why?” She had not told him about the incident in the library.

“Oh, no reason, really.”

Although she knew that was not exactly true, it helped her relax long enough to identify the nest as a bird’s and climb back down.

Armelle hopped down from the last branch, landing in front of Kane. “You wouldn’t ask me that for no reason, Kane,” she said, wiping the sap from her hands.

He led the way to the next tree. “Well, he was asking me about you this morning is all.”

Again, Armelle stopped. “What about me?” she asked sharply.

Kane shrugged, not noticing the nervous look on her face. “Your family, how long we’d been friends…” He was obviously confused about the nature of these questions, but Armelle suspected that his friendship and admiration of Tom prevented him from any kind of serious suspicion.

Her family? Why would he want to know about that? “Well, what did you say?”

“I told him your family’s strictly pure-blood, that your mam’s a librarian and your da’s a Ministry big wig. Nothing anybody doesn’t already know.”

Armelle was confused. “Oh.”

Kane stuck her with an inquisitive look. “Why would Riddle want to know about any of that, Armelle? It’s not like he fancies you or anything.”

Slowly, she told him about Tom’s request.

Now she was worried.


--

Armelle stood at the foot of the marble staircase in the warmly lit Entrance Hall, waiting. The covered bird cage, now containing several disgruntled fairies, was tucked under her arm and there was a squirmy feeling in her stomach. She was actually a little nervous about this.

She had never actually been able to offer academic help to anyone before; Kane was too bright to need assistance with any of his schoolwork, and even if he did, she probably wouldn’t be able to help. What if she was rubbish at teaching?

Ruby appeared through a wide passage on the left of the hall, looking much more nervous than Armelle felt. This helped put Armelle at ease; one of them, at least, had to be confident, and since she was positive Ruby would not be stepping up to the challenge, it was her job to make it seem like she knew what she was doing.

“Hallo, Ruby,” she greeted, perhaps a little too confidently. Ruby looked startled.

“Hi, Armelle...” Ruby eyed the cage warily. “Um, what’s in there?”

“You’ll see in a minute,” Armelle said with a smile. “Professor Mei said we could use his classroom.”

They set off up the staircase towards the second floor. Armelle cast around for a safe conversation subject to put Ruby at ease.

“So, you like Arithmancy?” She hoped this didn’t sound too forced or awkward.

Ruby’s small face broke into a wide smile. “Oh, it’s my favorite subject by far. Professor Boone told me I could even have a career in it after Hogwarts!”

“Lucky you,” Armelle chuckled, encouraged by Ruby’s obvious enthusiasm. “I got so frustrated with it last year that I threw my book in the fire.”

Ruby’s eyes widened like saucers. “Really?”

Armelle nodded solemnly; it had not been one of her finer moments. “Once I calmed down a bit I got it out with a pair of tongs. It was hardly even burnt.”

As they turned down the corridor, Armelle continued to ask Ruby about her favorite aspects of the class. This seemed to keep her significantly less nervous than she usually would be around Armelle, and Armelle was beginning to get the feeling that she and Ruby would get along very well.

They stopped outside the open door to the Charm’s classroom. Armelle, noticing that her shoelace was trailing on the floor, handed the cage to Ruby and bent down to tie it.

The sound of footsteps hitting the stone floor echoed down the corridor towards them. Armelle looked up from her shoelace to see two people walking towards them, deep in conversation. They were Tom Riddle and Professor Dippet.

Riddle smiled at her in a very disconcerting way when he saw her looking, as he continued down the corridor with the Headmaster. When they had passed out of sight, Armelle ushered Ruby into the classroom and shut the door firmly, resisting the urge to lock it.