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.
We All Fall Down by QueenofThieves
Chapter Notes: Oodles and oodles of thanks to Hatusu for all her help:) This fic has been rewritten from when it was previously posted.