Harry Potter: Bloodling

A sudden, pointed cough snapped Marie's focus back to the front.

Umbridge's wide, artificial smile was turned in her direction…

"Mr.…" She paused, as if unsure, and Marie's heart felt like it was going to explode. "Elijah"

The boy next to her offered the vile woman a cool smile, inclining his head in a way that almost made her shiver.

"Indeed, Professor," he answered, enunciating each syllable with refined civility. "How may I be of assistance?"

The woman's expression, though still saccharine, hardened at the edges. "I simply wish to ensure you are paying attention," she said in that little-girl voice. "So many of you young people these days are terribly distracted."

"Rest assured, Professor," Elijah replied with a melodious voice. "I hang upon your every word."

Umbridge seemed momentarily thrown by his response, her watery blue eyes narrowing. "Very well," she said, turning her back to the class with a short, stiff nod. "Carry on reading."

Elijah exchanged the briefest glance with Marie, who looked positively relieved that he escaped further scrutiny, and beamed at him.

The hour stretched on in tedium, with Umbridge instructing them to answer endless textbook questions that almost drove Marie mad.

The close of class arrived with no practical spellwork—as was usual. Not even something as simple as a disarming charm.

When the final question was answered and the bell rang, the class practically bolted for the door.

Someone muttered darkly about wanting to practice real defensive magic.

Elijah didn't move though, and Marie followed his example.

He sat with his refined poise and waited for Umbridge to dismiss them formally.

The unwavering calm in his posture was something beyond Marie's comprehension.

At last, Umbridge primly declared, "Class dismissed," and he got up, Marie close behind.

"Blimey," she breathed once they were in the corridor.

"She's even worse than the start of the year… I didn't think that was possible."

Elijah's lip curved into a faint smile. "Indeed, she has a talent for surprising everyone like that…"

Still wearing a pensive look, Marie followed Elijah as they glided away from the defence classroom.

The halls were once again teeming with students, many discussing upcoming classes or lamenting the new wave of rules plastered on the walls.

Marie cleared her throat. "Um… we have a couple of hours before dinner—would you like to head to the library, or…?"

Elijah inclined his head in a gracious nod. "I can think of nothing more delightful," he replied smoothly. "We could start your Charms revision if that suits you."

Her shoulders relaxed. "Yes, that would be wonderful."

As they walked, he cast a glance behind him.

Marie noted the two first-year Ravenclaws from earlier darted past, rubbing faintly reddened hands.

Elijah turned back to Marie with a mild smile, "Do you know if these children served detention with that vile woman?"

She noted something dark in his tones that almost sent a shiver down her spine, and wondered not for the first time, about his weird speech pattern.

I've not talked with him a lot before today, but he seems so different from what I remember, she thought.

His appearance was mostly the same, but even that changed.

Elijah had platinum-white hair with tousled and sharp, aristocratic features. He wasn't all that different from Malfoy, but where the Slytherin was haughty and arrogant, Elijah carried himself with a graceful dignity that seemed almost otherworldly.

He was also a lot taller than the young Slytherin and there was something in his mannerisms that spoke of a born predator, something that her fellow students lacked.

His pale complexion was strikingly smooth, and his piercing gaze—cold yet impossibly deep—seemed so wise that it made Dumbledore look like a child in comparison.

His change of wardrobe is just as striking as the change in his demeanour.

He was clad in dark, intricately detailed robes from a material that looked better than anything Marie had seen.

I don't even want to think how expensive those robes are.

Even the finest dress robes in Madam Malkin's shop would pale in comparison.

A sharp cough jolted her from her thoughts.

Elijah was watching her, a knowing smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

She felt her cheeks warm at being caught staring.

"Um. Sorry, w-what was the question?"

His smile widened a fraction. "I asked about the children who passed us—if they had detention with Umbridge."

His eyes flickered briefly in the direction the first years had gone, that darkness returning to his expression.

Marie tucked a stray curl behind her ear, clearing her throat. "I—well, I'm not sure," she admitted. "I've heard Umbridge hands out some unusual detentions, but… I don't know anything more than that."

Elijah gave a slow, contemplative nod. "Well, I'm certain all shall become clear in due time," he murmured, casting one last glance down the corridor where the two first-years had fled.

Marie didn't quite know how to respond to that.

He spoke with such calm detachment—such certainty—that it left her unsettled, yet strangely reassured at the same time.

Before she could dwell further on the subject, Elijah was already setting off at a measured pace towards the library, his robes trailing in perfect, effortless folds.

She quickened her step to keep up, the crowded corridors gradually thinning as they approached the quieter part of the castle.

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