Selenite & Moonstone

Summary

He knew why she felt familiar. He made her. He dreamed her. She was the girl he had devised in his brain using the bits and pieces he liked from other girls. He had sculpted her out of marble and carved her out of clay. She was his pipe dream. Except now she was standing there––real as ever. And he couldn't have her. He had to come to terms with the fact that he could never have her. He had to deny his true thoughts and feelings until he wasn't denying.

Genre:
Romance / Fantasy
Author:
Sade in the 90s
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
23
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
18+

Prologue

The triumphant melody of the Hogwarts' March would never again fall on her ears quite the same. Not after the sounds of unwitting revelry, Fleur's blood-curdling shrieks, Mr. Diggory's wails of anguish, and Harry's admonition, "He's back! Voldemort's back!" were combined and forever etched upon its victorious notes.

Alena watched in horror as her grandfather made his way through the crowd and tried to peel Harry's arms from Cedric's unresponsive body. The world moved in slow-motion as she fell back into her seat and realized that her friend was dead. Cedric Diggory was dead.

She felt a heavy storm build up behind her eyes, but only managed to release a few beads of tears. Her breathing became increasingly fast—until suddenly, she could not breathe at all.

I knew something bad was going to happen. I knew, and I did nothing to stop it. I've seen this before.

Mr. Diggory had been screaming for a couple of seconds, but Alena felt as though she'd been hearing his agonizing cries for hours. He was torn to pieces, shattered to shards, broken to fragments as he cradled Cedric's lifeless body in his arms like a baby. Alena felt his endless despair creep into her skin and burn her from the inside. She did not want it, she did not summon it, but it pervade her without permission.

A father's grief.

She held her hands up to her ears and gasped for air. As soon as she managed to get a single bluster of breath into her lungs, she ran and ran, away from the chaos and sorrow into the nearby forest. She grabbed onto a tree and retched violently several times through uncontrollable sobs. Her body jerked and wrenched itself so aggressively that she thought she might throw up her entire soul. Her sobs escalated to loud weeps forced through gnashed teeth.

How can I fix this? What can I do? What can I do?

There was nothing. There was no way to bring Cedric back from the dead. He was gone.

All she could do was wait for her grandfather to complete his headmaster duties so she could finally cry into his shoulder and feel some sort of comfort. She dropped to her knees onto a thick blanket of snow and cried into her own hands for the meantime. They were blotchy and burning from the cold.

She heard the crushing sounds of running footsteps on the snow approaching her, but she didn't have the will nor the strength to look up.

"Lovegood! Are you alright?" Someone kneeled beside her and gently cupped her face into his shivering hands.

Alena quickly jerked her face out of his hold and hurled again into the ground next to him. He gathered her long, lazy curls away from her face and made circles with his closed palm over her back.

"Just breathe. Breathe. It's okay, breathe," he said in a soothing voice.

His calmness enraged her. His presence confused and vexed her. Draco Malfoy was not her friend. In fact, he had become a constant aggressor. For the past several weeks he had been increasingly hostile in his attacks—verbally insulting her, starting rumours about her, and even digging his wand into her neck once.

She wasn't a victim to him. Every abuse from Draco had been gracefully returned back to him in some form or another, and she was only beginning to suspect that he wanted it.

There had been one instance in the Astronomy Tower, however, in which he'd found her crying alone and managed to show an inkling of concern for her.

It was different in the forest. It was far more than an inkling.

She looked at him, doe-eyed and defeated.
"It's okay? It's okay? C-cedric is dead, Draco. He's dead—d-did you see him?" She questioned him through hitched breaths. "He's... dead." She was shaking.

"I know, I'm sorry," he removed his jacket and carefully wrapped her in it, then hugged her, covering her head with his hands over his chest. "Let me take you back to the castle. You can't stay out here by yourself." He clenched his jaw to keep his teeth from jittering.

His eyes looked like two full moons. She looked into them with pools of tears resting over her own that spilled over when she blinked.

"W-why are you here? Why are you holding me?" She cried. He didn't respond. He only pulled her closer into him, her face burying itself into his neck.

She was broken. She felt responsible for Cedric's death. If only she would know how to properly use her accumency ability. If only she hadn't been afraid to come clean to her grandfather about her use of the obscure branch of magic. If only she'd been able to discern exactly what she felt when she watched Cedric enter his name into the Goblet.

Perhaps he wouldn't be dead.

As Draco's and Alena's bodies pressed closer against each other, she felt a round, metal object inside her shirt. With a quick jolt, she peeled herself away from Draco's grip and yanked at the collar of her shirt. She pulled at the necklace that was tucked inside until she reached the gold pendant.

Draco looked at her in astonishment, his brows pleated together drawing out his panic. "Lovegood, why do you have a time-turner?"

She stared blankly at the device in her hand and then back at him. His face was riddled with concern, hers—with enlightenment and sudden determination.

He could feel her body tremble to the beat of her heart rate and he watched as her pupils enlarged and consumed the color out of her irises—the blue, the green, the yellow; gone. He tucked his hands beneath her ears and her head swung back. She seemed to be in a trance.

"Hey," Draco said alarmingly as he shook her. "Hey—what's going on? What is it?" He could see shadows and images swirling in her eyes.

"Lovegood..."

With a couple of blinks Alena's tri-colored eyes returned to a certain normalcy.

"I have to go," she whispered. "I have to go back."

"No," he said, as he realized what she was intending. "You can't. You can't possibly be thinking—"

She picked herself up of the ground, ready to run all the way to the castle—but he quickly grabbed both of her arms with a protective grip.

"I can't let you do this, Lovegood! Please, this is mad! You'll get hurt, you'll end up like Diggory!" His tightened his grip on her.

"I know you think I'm useless, Malfoy. But you have no idea what I'm capable of," she jerked and twisted her small frame away, but Draco was overpowering. "You're the one that's hurting me! Stop, let go of me! I have to go! I have to at least try!" She was too weak from the grief—and from throwing up everything in her system.

"No, I'm sorry—It's too dangerous! You heard Potter, he's back," He let go of her arms and gripped her by the waist. "It's too dangerous. He'll kill you."

"Since when do you f-fucking care?" She made her hands into fists and struck him on the shoulders multiple times. "Let go of me, Malfoy! You can't do this, you can't be holding me like this!"

"I can't let go, I can't let go. Something terrible could happen to you," he drew her head under his chin. "You're not thinking straight."

Alena dropped to her knees again, her loud sobs filling the cold, winter air. Draco pulled on her arms and wrapped them around himself as he dropped to his knees before her.

"W-why won't you leave me alone?" She struck him on the chest softly. His skin was stone cold against her burning body.

Draco sighed as he brushed her cheek with his thumb. He tucked a few of her silver locks behind her ear and kissed her on the forehead.

"Because..."

"Because I just can't let anything bad happen to you," he whispered. "I don't know why. I just can't."

Alena kept her eyes closed and succumbed to him. She simply cried quietly into his shoulder without another word and allowed him to console her for a while. He was gentle as he caressed her lazy curls and wiped away her endless stream of tears every few minutes.

It was the very first time he held her in his arms. He had observed her with so much intent and fierce attention that she sometimes seemed to be moving in slow motion before his eyes. Every bounce of every curl, every muscle and line in her face, every gesture and movement—he was an expert. He'd fought against every desire to stretch out his hands and touch her every time she stood within his reach, but he knew it was a fight he would one day lose. It was only a matter of time, and finally, he'd lost.

Her mind was still determined to go complete a task that felt like destiny. The more time elapsed, the more dangerous it would become. She had to find Harry and ask him what exactly had happened.

As Draco held her in his arms, it dawned on her. All semester long, she'd thought it was Draco's hateful and wicked energy she'd been reading through her uncontrolled accumency. All those times in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and a few times in the library—it had been Professor Moody. It was Moody who swept Harry away after he emerged from the maze clung onto Cedric's corpse. It was Moody who had antagonized her in her nightmares.

Her intuition had been warning her every day, and it was no use. She didn't know how to use it properly, and it had cost Cedric's safety.

She had no choice, but to try and save him.

"Come on, it's freezing out here. Let me take you to Luna. She's probably worried about you and she'll take better care of you than me," Draco said into her ear. He kissed her head a few times before helping her up.

Alena took Draco's hand, inadvertently feeling the scabs and tender scars she had given him just a few days prior. He had deserved it.

They walked slowly through the thick snow, Draco's arms around Alena's sides to help her trudge through. They had to stop a few times as Alena continued to retch—but hardly anything would come out. Her eyes were blood-shot and her temples were protruding. Her lips were swollen, her hair tousled. And still she was the loveliest witch he had ever seen. He wanted to keep her.

"Draco," she said as they reached the castle. He stopped and inspected her.

"Are you alright?" He asked.

"Thanks... for staying with me out there. And for bringing me back to the castle."

"Should I walk you to the infirmary? You look unwell," he offered politely.

"No, that's fine. I've inconvenienced you enough. I'll just head to my dorm and wait for my grandfather to summon me."

They stood facing each other awkwardly; Draco wishing he had the words to provide her with even a shred of comfort, and Alena wishing Draco would soon allow her out of his sight.

She reached for his hand.

"The war has just begun," she said softly. "And we're on opposite sides of the barricade."

"Yes. Yes, we are," he brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers. Then, he gently placed her hand back at her side.

As soon as Draco vanished into a separate corridor, Alena sprinted through the castle towards the Turris Magnus tower and into the second floor corridor. She didn't stop until she broke through the doors of Moody's office. Her grandfather had a tight grip on Harry, and Professor Snape had his wand deep into Barty Crouch, Jr's face. They all turned to look at her in a jolt.

She felt a similar sensation strike her as soon as she entered the office. The same one she'd felt every day in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"Harry!" She ran to him and cupped his face in her hands before wrapping her arms around his neck. "I have a time-turner. Tell me where to go," she whispered into his ear.

"You're okay," Harry said in a low voice. "You tried, Lena. You really did."

"Do not say another word, Harry," her grandfather objected.

Alena looked at Harry with furrowed brows while holding him by the shoulders.

"What? Harry—"

The headmaster clenched his jaw and spoke in a slightly elevated, yet calm tone. "Just what do you think you are doing, Alena? You mustn't be here. Students were sent to their dormitories almost an hour ago."

"Harry," Alena pulled the time-turner from inside her shirt and showed Harry, looking at him with desperate eyes.

"You can't bring him back, you stupid girl!" Barty laughed maniacally.

Snape dug his wand deeper into Barty's face and said, "Quiet, you!"

"How could neither of you have known?" Alena looked at Barty Crouch and then up at Snape and her grandfather.

"The cup—it's a Portkey," Harry blurted. "I'm sorry, sir," he apologized to Dumbledore. "It's him, Alena. He's back."

Alena shuddered as her grandfather pulled her out of the room at once.

"Don't let Cedric touch the cup! Don't let him touch the cup!" Harry's cries were muffled behind the closed doors, but she understood him perfectly. "He called Cedric a spare and had him killed without a second thought! Don't touch the cup! Alena! The cup—it took us to a graveyard!"

Alena and her grandfather looked at each other irresolutely for a brief moment before either of them spoke.

"You know I cannot let you go," her grandfather said.

"I've already gone. There's no use in trying to stop me. You could either help me or hinder me," she responded.

It was in that precise moment that he came to regret the amount of power he had entrusted his sixteen-year-old granddaughter with. For the first time ever he questioned whether it had been wise to have taught her as much as he had. But it was done—she was as good as gone and all he could do was trust that he'd taught her well enough to succeed in her plan.

"You mustn't touch the cup. Do you understand? Do not touch the cup."

"I think I must," she replied, looking at him in bewilderment. "You know that."

The platinum-haired witch disapparated with an audible crack.

She's just a girl.


Just a girl who would do absolutely anything in the world for those she cared for and loved.

He stood helplessly outside of Moody's office for a moment before he went back inside.

"Do you have any idea what you've done, Harry?" He asked disquietingly.

Harry had done exactly what he was meant to do.

Barty chimed in. "That Diggory boy is as dead as Lily and James Potter!"

"Stupefy!" Snape spat. Barty's body went limp and fell to the ground.

"As long as she doesn't touch the Portkey, she'll be fine, sir," Harry said with his head lowered.

Snape walked over to Harry and began to threaten him. "If something happens to her, Potter, I swear that the—"

"I don't think you recall how any of this works, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted.

"Why didn't you stop her, Albus?" Snape questioned, with wild irritation in his voice.

"One cannot stop time, Severus."



Harry emerged from the enchanted hedges of the maze clutching Cedric's limp body, triggering the jubilant sounds of the Hogwarts' March and the joyous celebration from the expectant crowd. Except Harry wouldn't lend himself to the victory they eagerly wanted to pin on him.

"He's back! Voldemort is back!" He cried as he dropped to his knees. He was incredibly disheveled and his forearm was bleeding profusely. His words triggered gasps of horror all over the stands. "I'm sorry, Professor, I couldn't stop him
."


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