SEVENTEEN. | SETBACK FROM GAIETY

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"But what of Sirius Black? He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know," Hermione hissed. - "Fuck," Gemini breathed; realization crashing over her in waves. Sirius Black, Padfoot, was a benefactor of The Marauders Map....And her and Harry were previously alone down there, in a secret tunnel that the murderer himself had knowledge of. If was like they'd offered themselves up on a silver platter. Her foolish spontaneous nature had prevented her brain from connecting the dots so much sooner. - "He can't be getting in through a passage," Harry, surprisingly, cut in, "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, alright? The 'Troublesome Triad,' as Gem and the twins like to call themselves, reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three - one of them's caved in, so no once can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one we just came through, well, the Flume's have charms in place to keep out thieves and it is really difficult to see the entrance to it down in the cellar." At the end of his explication, Harry looked to Gemini with an expectant gaze. "Yeah, 'Mione," the shaken girl assisted; swallowing deeply before she lied, "Exclusive to that; one Professor, Remus Lupin, does know of the The Marauders Map. He caught sight of it at our cottage one day, a day I'd accidentally left it out. He promised I could possess it as long as I didn't abuse its power. And I am not, we're not. We just wished for enjoyment in place of being locked away in the castle. I promise."

"Are you going to report us?," Harry questioned their bushy-haired friend. "Oh, of course not," Hermione ensured; marginally offended, "But, honestly, the pair of you need to refrain from placing yourselves in such dangerous positions. Just...just stick by us, alright? Your safety is required...And this is to never happen again, understood?" Those being scolded eagerly nodded. Gemini concurring, "It'll never happen again, 'Mione. Girl Scouts honor." Hermione huffed in exasperation; fully aware that the impish lass before her would've never been a member of such a group. Ron, however, who held no insight to happenings outside of the Wizarding World; probed, "What is a Girl Scout?" Without skipping a beat, Gemini turned and versed, "You'd love the Girl Scouts, Ron! They are a cult of young women that produce mouthwatering baked goods; specifically biscuits. And only the Girl Scouts know of all of the secret recipes behind making these biscuits that they only release during certain times of the year." Hermione drug a hand down her face; sighing, "That is not the correct formalization of what a Girl Scout is, Gem."
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"Please refrain from gawking at Madam Rosmerta," Harry snapped at Gemini; glowering at the dazed female from behind his tankard of butterbeer, "Your captivation in regards to that woman is not inconspicuous in the slightest." Yet, his irritation fell on deaf ears. Gemini, as well as Ron, gazed at the landlady of The Three Broomsticks in flagrant pruriency. "We should've never came in here," Harry huffed to an equally annoyed Hermione. Though; the bushy-haired female's reply remained a dead letter, for the door to the establishment had just opened to reveal a gaggle of educators. - Professors McGonagall and Flitwick entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was deep in conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and a pinstriped cloak....Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. - "Bloody Hell," Harry gulped; scampering to conceal himself beneath the table whilst dragging Gemini down with him.

"Oi!," the silver-eyed lass bit; scowling at her capturer, "What is your problem? Ron scurried off to order drinks from that lovely woman before I had the chance -." But, Harry slapped his hand over the girl's mouth in place of her concluding; offering her a look nothing short of a smoldering gaze. "This is not about your obvious infatuation for Madam Rosmerta, nor is it the time to discuss such matters. If you had not have been so caught up in how that much older lady's hair bounced when walking, then you'd have noticed the slew of Professor's that just waltzed in. So, before you throw a fit, this is me saving your arse." At least the scolded female had inherited enough sound judgement to not outright bicker after such explanations...but cheekiness had also passed on, times two. So, not wishing to acknowledge that he was on the beam, she corrected, "You mean 'saving both of our arses.' I am not the only escapee here, Harold." The boy absentmindedly nodded; watching as the teachers' and the Minister's feet carried them towards the bar, pausing, then turning to walk right for the hidden pair. "Whatever," Harry whispered; pulling the girl a bit closer to him, an arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, as he was aware of Fudge's ideation of the youngest Lupin-Black, "Just stick by me and keep quiet, please."

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