My heart skipped a beat as the photo came to life. There we were, Jacob and I, jumping up and down and grinning at Mom. She must have thought it was because we were excited. Mischievous, giggling, and making silly faces at each other. Little did she...
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Have I mentioned Merula before? She was a mess of untamed hair, canary-yellow bangs, and violet eyes, a true Slytherin with a knack for trouble.
We once crossed paths in the corridor, where she was busy asserting her superiority over Rowan in every aspect imaginable. Potions? She was a master. Charms? She would duel Flitwick himself. Magic potential? She was The Most Powerful Witch in Hogwarts, though self-proclaimed. I had never encountered someone so self-confident and obnoxious, with the exception of perhaps Jacob.
Although, to be fair, Jacob never tossed explosives into unsuspecting cauldrons or sent fake letters like Merula did. The whole Ravenclaw buzzed with rumors about a note, cleverly signed by Snape but actually crafted by Merula herself, that resulted in Rowan and me being trapped in a room with Devil's Snare. Those were the tightest hugs I had ever experienced, courtesy of some rather clingy plants.
And when Merula mentioned "something interesting to happen in the Inner Courtyard," it was naive of us to hope for a pleasant outing like a stroll to Hagrid's or enjoying a sandwich in the Great Hall. Deep down, we knew we were being lured into Merula's twisted game.
"What could she be plotting?" I wondered aloud.
Would Snyde blow up another cauldron? Or, Merlin forbid, would she attempt to introduce her own religion, Merulism? Funny enough, it wouldn't be surprising given her delusions of being "The Most Powerful Witch" at Hogwarts. What truly frightened us was the thought of her amassing a group of devoted disciples right here at Hogwarts.
With unwavering determination, we went down the Grand Staircase, ready to unleash the full potential of our modest dueling expertise. Flippendo! Expelliarmus! Incarcerous! Rowan chanted incantations under her breath, and I practiced wand movements. Swish! Swish and flick!
Amidst our combat preparations, a stray thought of a Mending Charm crossed my mind at the most inopportune moment. Blast! Chester indeed had done a great job pushing my Reparo to perfection.
"What are you doing here, you damn mudblood? Didn't the Dark Lord show you where you belong?"
I could barely make her out among the dozens of backs — frozen, hunched backs. The silence enveloped the courtyard, and no one dared to utter a word; that was what horrified me the most. Meanwhile, Rowan was already squeezing through, her face crimson with anger. I followed closely, elbowing my way through the crowd, wondering who got caught this time.
Hopefully not...
"So, he didn't show you, huh? Your place, Copper, is beneath the feet of pure-bloods. On a leash, in the deepest depths of Gringotts, or in the dens of the Forbidden Forest, or..."
"One more word, Merula," Rowan trembled with pent-up tension, and I could only imagine how much effort it took for her to speak up, "and they'll be looking for you in those dens... for at least two months."
