Heavenly Waters||Sirius Black

Chapter 31

{{Double update because I was late updating again!}}

Harry couldn't sleep. 

Hagrid's slumped shoulders and resigned sadness had left a knot in Harry's throat that had yet to unravel. Buckbeak was to be executed, and the half-giant was so sad that Harry had half a mind to punch Malfoy's face in. He knew the snake's father was evil, he'd just hoped that Gwenyth Whitlock might have been able to charm the committee to the point that Malfoy's money wouldn't matter. 

That was the other reason he couldn't sleep. 

Hermione had appeared out of nowhere at dinner, a magazine clasped tightly between her hands. A magazine that had taken over the castle, one that even Dumbledore was reading leisurely at the head table. Harry hadn't realized who was on the cover until Hermione shoved it under his nose. Gwen, looking far more professional and primped than usual. Ron had turned bright red when he'd looked at the picture of the Veela smiling dreamily at the camera. And then Fred had told the entire Gryffindor table that George had already charmed the magazine with a permanent sticking charm to the canopy above his bed. McGonagall had not been pleased when the twins ended up in a wrestling match full of shouting and cursing. 

And even though that had been funny, nothing had eased the guilt Harry felt when he looked at the moving portrait of Gwen at the Ministry. She'd said the Ministry wasn't fond of her. He wished he'd said something to her before she'd gone. He just wasn't sure what. Guilt chewed away at his heart, burning his chest and causing him to toss and turn. Something wasn't right. Something with the Veela wasn't right, and Harry could feel it. He could see it in the strokes of purple under her pale eyes, the subtle shaking of her fingers. That only made him feel more guilty, because he was concerned. Just not enough to speak to her, because the anger and hurt he felt still stung the most. She was lying to him. He just wasn't sure what was real when it came to the being. 

Harry clenches his eyes shut so hard that bursts of color appear in his vision. One of his dorm mates was snoring, and based on the frequency, he was guessing Seamus. He sighs as his eyes open, his body rolling to the side and his hand reaching into his cupboard before he even realizes what it is he's doing. His fingers brush parchment, the map settling into his lap a moment later. 

He pulls on his glasses, points his wand at the empty parchment and says quietly, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

He watches as crooked corridors and serpentine passageways stretch across the parchment like vines, blossoming into classrooms and towers and halls. His eyes trace the corridors to a classroom, a frown pulling at his lips when he doesn't see the name he's looking for. Gwen should be asleep. In fact, after Remus had told him that Gwen would be a good person to practice the patronus with, he had changed his mind and told Harry that she went to bed too early on days where she wasn't making star charts. Harry had been annoyed when the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher had suggested the Veela join them. He had been disappointed when she didn't. 

Harry lifts his eyes higher, curiosity guiding him towards the Astronomy tower. He exhales silently with a reluctant sort of relief when he sees 'Ninnie Whitlock'  frozen at the top. He hadn't realized the nickname was known to anyone other than who she had said, and he wished he knew who the creators of the map were so that he could ask them about the Veela. He sighs, lifting his wand to close the map when a small dot catches Harry's eye. 

'Peter Pettigrew.'

He blinks, rubs his eyes under his glasses. Peter Pettigrew. Harry is up a moment later, pushing his feet into slippers and rushing out of Gryffindor Tower. He moves hurriedly down the stairs, eyes locked on the map. His heart pounds as he moves down a dark corridor, the map grasped tightly in one hand while his wand glows softly in the other.