Chapter 12 – Like Diamonds

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The year-end feast was usually a riotous affair, with students in good spirits enjoying the succulent fare and looking forward to the dawn of the holidays. This year, however, the atmosphere was noticeably subdued. The chatter wasn't quite so lively, the air not so charged. Black banners had replaced the customary ones that sported House colors, in honor of Myrtle, I guessed. I myself felt the change—I was excited, but more so I could forget the turmoil of the last several weeks, rather than in anticipation of the summer.

I was, of course, tentatively hopeful for a multi-month respite at Diana's home. I had already informed her that all that stood in my way now was Mrs. Wool's approval. I did not dare to assume she would say yes, but I had an argument on my side if need be, that I was already absent from the orphanage for nine months out of the year anyway, so what would another three months be?

I turned my focus away from my fretting and concentrated instead on a glistening fruit tart that had just appeared in front of me. Desserts were replacing the roasts, stuffings, vegetables, and haggis. As per usual, I had already eaten my fill but couldn't help leveling another piece for myself. Too often, especially at the end of the year, I found myself not appreciating the meals I was treated to while at Hogwarts, and so I took especial care to savor the sweet berries that topped the slice on my plate.

After some time, my eyes were drawn upward to the ceiling. Earlier in the dinner the magicked sky had been pinky-blue, but it was now more firmly on the edges of indigo. Dippet had stood up at the dais now, surveying us with his eyes that were sunk deep into his face with age. His gaze swept over us patiently as he waited us for settle down.

"Another year gone," he began. "I commend you all for it. There is not a soul in this hall that is not aware that this year was not as pleasant as I would have hoped for you all. There was a great deal of fear, stress, and anxiety that was placed upon everyone here, which I greatly regret. We of course were dealt with the terrible tragedy of the passing of one of our own, Myrtle Warren of Ravenclaw."

I snuck a look at the Ravenclaw table. The students seated there were more subdued than the rest of us—Myrtle hadn't been a popular student by any means, but I knew it must have had been a shock nevertheless to lose someone who had been there all year.

"Miss Warren was noted for her quick mind and initiative to better herself. Her teachers admired her work ethic and the amount of time she dedicated to her advancement. Among her Housemates, she could be counted on to know the answer to just about any query a person could have. Hogwarts will be greatly lessened without her presence."

Dippet paused here. The Great Hall was as quiet as I had ever heard it, as if people dared not even to take breaths.

"Hogwarts is not just here to teach you magic. Ostensibly that is our mission, but we also do wish that you leave each year with qualities beyond your education. Tenacity, grit, perseverance. A strong will. Resolve. These are the things that we professors can only hope you will develop over your years here; no human being can teach them. And when a student comes through a year as you all have come through—I suppose that is a silver lining." Dippet looked down at all of us a little more carefully then. "This year was not an enjoyable one," he went on bluntly. "But it is most often the least enjoyable occasions that give us the most rewarding gifts. For you all, it is a strengthening in your person, in your own selves. And I want you all to be proud of having finished this year on your own terms, for it would have been very easy to throw it all in and leave for the safety of their own home. Wait the situation out and see what happened. But not a single student did, and I am extremely proud of the stiff upper lip everyone has demonstrated over the past year. I sincerely hope that you all enjoy your holidays this summer, for you all have earned it."

Dippet stepped back from the podium. The hall burst into thunderous applause, which went only slightly acknowledged by Dippet. As he sat back down, I felt a twinge of sadness for him. No doubt the affair with Hagrid had been draining for him too. Had he had anyone to share the stress with him, as I had with Tom?

As the clapping died away to be replaced with benches being pushed back and people getting up to stretch, I followed suit, creating a mental picture of my room. I was mostly packed, with only a few odds and ends to throw into the crevices of my trunk.

Exiting the Great Hall at the end of feasts was always a halting operation, with the enormous throng of students being worked slowly through what seemed like a bottleneck pair of doors. I found myself level with them, just a pace out of the Great Hall, when a pluck on my sleeve caught my attention. Tom had slipped away from his group, and now beckoned me out of the crowd. Eager to have a sense of my own personal space once again, I stepped out of place, without hesitation.

"What is it?"

"Come with me," he said. Not another word spoken, he took me by the hand and proceeded to take me up a staircase, and another, remembering to skip the disappearing step, until I counted we were on the third floor. My heart was racing as he drew me down corridors and past portraits who tsked disapprovingly at us, presuming we were on our way to some evening tryst, I thought.

"Shouldn't we go back to the common room?" I managed, still confused. "Our curfew—"

"There's no danger anymore," Tom interrupted, still looking around. Though a number of floating candelabras drifted lazily ahead of us to provide light, his wand was aloft and lit. "Besides, you won't get in trouble with me."

I rolled my eyes. "You have quite the ego on you, you realize?" I said, unable to keep from needling him.

He turned back to me finally. "Well, I think I've earned it," he replied smoothly, and treated me to one of his infuriatingly handsome half-smile. He let go of my hand at last and pushed open the door we had stopped in front of to let me enter first.

I blinked in the room I now stood in. I had never been here before but could tell, even in the dying light, that it was beautiful and impressive. I noticed first the tall vaulted ceiling above us, but my attention was soon drawn to the tens of cases that were placed around the room. I moved toward the closest one, staring in awe at the delicate workmanship that was displayed behind the crystal panels. In the next display were medals of all shapes and sizes, pinned by their ribbons to small satin cushions. In another, cups and goblets hewn of pure diamonds and jewels stood proudly on stands, glittering softly against the flaming sun through the window. In taller cases, there were magnificent robes made of leather and velvet, with minute stitching and embroidery embellishing everything from the lower hem to the neckline. I could tell that many of these items had been recently placed here, within the last decade, at least. But still many more of them appeared much more weathered and aged, resembling artifacts I recalled seeing in Muggle museums.

"Why did you bring me here?" I said, examining a large badge. I turned around, but Tom had disappeared.

"I wanted to show you something," came his voice somewhere in the room.

"Where are you?" I said slowly, stepping to the center of the floor. The soles of my shoes made soft clicks on the stone, sounds that were amplified by the curved walls until they disintegrated into nothingness, at which point I became aware of the cavernous quality of the room, and the noiselessness that was broken once again when Tom spoke.

"Here," he said, emerging from behind one of the smallest cases I could see, tucked away in the back corner. I came closer to him to peer at the object he too had his eyes fixed upon, and my mouth opened slightly.

A shield of silver bearing Tom's name was mounted onto a piece of fine dark wood, propped up so the writing was visible. Compared to the other sights I had seen, what was before me now was relatively modest and visually prosaic, if not for the name that was etched there.

"This is—yours?" I said.

"Dippet gave it to me this morning in his office, privately," Tom said. "That is, he said it was made for me, and that it would be kept here."

"And it's for—?" I didn't continue on, knowing Tom would understand me. He nodded.

"It's a—" He cleared his throat— "'Special Award for Services to the School'. Dippet thought it would be best to keep it vague." I bent down to read the words more carefully and saw indeed they were there, just as Tom had recited them. I then could feel Tom's eyes on me, and I straightened.

"Do you have something else to say?"

"You're not upset I brought you here, are you?"

"Why would I be?" I asked, eyebrows knit.

"Because Dippet didn't see it fit to also give you one, although you had a part to play as well."

The thought hadn't even crossed my mind until Tom had brought it up. I suppose Tom was right; I had corroborated everything of Tom's initial accusation towards Hagrid. I had gone to the Ministry and testified in front of officials under oath. In a different situation, perhaps I would have been hurt at being erased…but right now I didn't feel any slight.

"No. No, I don't mind. You did more than I did, anyway, Tom; you deserve it. And I don't think I would want anything to remember this by," I said truthfully.

Tom's anxious face relaxed. "Then I'm glad. I asked Dippet about it, but he—he seemed conflicted about this one, in all honesty. "Like he almost didn't want to. But he did. I suppose he felt guilty about the whole mess of things. He made me promise not to talk about it to anyone, too, so I trust you won't go off and tell your friends or anyone that I brought you here."

I nodded in agreement, but then did a double take at him. "Dippet told you keep it a secret? Then you shouldn't have told me, Tom. You just broke your promise to him."

Tom looked at me, puzzled at my objection. I prickled at his delay in responding and unconsciously held my hands behind my back. I saw Tom's eyes drop at the gesture, and then flicker back up to not my own, but something just below, to my lips. Then he reaached forward and brought them to his, with a suddenness that frightened me so that I almost stepped back. But I felt one of his hands on my back, the other on my neck, steadying me, and I let myself relax into him. His feathery light touch contrasted oddly with the desperation his mouth seemed to impress on mine, pulling me against him as he did so. For this I was grateful, since as soon as he held me, a hot fire spread blossomed from my head down to my toes, making me go weak—his grip was reassuringly strong even as he broke away.

"Well, I didn't think I would be able to keep to this to myself if I tried," Tom said. "Besides, if I wasn't going to keep my word, it might as well have been for you." He kissed me again, more quickly this time, though it still left me breathless.

I flushed at his words, and then again at the thought of where we were and what we were doing—exactly what the portraits had feared, I thought with a hint of deviousness. I smiled a little and bit my lip, turning my face to the ground in my simultaneousness bashfulness.

"Let's go back," Tom whispered. And in a happy delirium, I followed him through the empty galleries back to the common room, to the Hogwarts Express, to the summer.

END PART III