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...
The heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
— Blaise Pascal, Pensées
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Mr. Cecil Lee had arrived from the Ministry of Magic, being on a special, complex mission to capture werewolves, or at least so he said.
His days were consumed wandering the castle, measuring it step by step and meticulously inspecting every nook and cranny. Occasionally, Cecil would sit in on classes, silently observing both students and professors from the back of the room. Fortunately, he quickly grew bored, saying that the abundance of difficult words and formulas proved too distracting for his investigative pursuits.
As Penny recounted, sometimes Mr. Lee would dedicate himself to inspecting the Kitchens and their stock of treats, while on others, he could be found setting up traps on the Training Grounds. Despite no werewolves captured, a couple of unfortunate Hufflepuffs did fall prey to those snares. Still, Mr. Lee remained unfazed, his optimism foolishly unshaken.
He even showed up at Quidditch practices, where Bean, reinstated as a Beater, nearly sent a Bludger hurtling straight at his face. Skye wasn't too pleased with his visits, especially when Cecil rummaged through the locker rooms, searching for some mysterious werewolf clues.
After causing quite a ruckus, he even asked Skye for an autograph for, urgh, ahem, his nephew. Yes, his nephew! Never had I heard of Barnaby being a fan of the Parkins, and I was quite sure that he wasn't.
In short, Cecil's investigation annoyed everyone and irritated many, especially Madam Rakepick. It was her we were heading to, and therefore, we took our time intentionally, counting each step leading up to the Grand Staircase.
Every portrait, though familiar after countless encounters, now revealed unique features and fresh details, tempting me to linger for minutes, hours, or perhaps an entire day. Did I—did I really need to meet Rakepick today? Could we discuss whatever she wanted to discuss at some point... next year?
"Bringing a friend, Miss Gelider? Well, I expected as much," she remarked as we passed into the Artefact Room.
Madam Rakepick tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes never leaving Rowan, who stood nervously behind me, wringing her hands. Besides that, we were perfectly still, scarcely breathing and wearing the situation with a faux calm. After all, when I received an owl from Rakepick, bringing someone along wasn't an act of cowardice but a rather sensible decision.
"You wished to see us, um, me, Madam Rakepick?"
She nodded, her hands folded across her chest, her eyes as cold as polished marbles.
"Indeed. However, it's a good thing you are here as well, Miss Khanna. Would serve as a good reminder that seeking information about me through others isn't the wisest approach."
Rowan gripped my wrist, but I remained still as a mannequin, even when Rakepick leaned in closer. For a moment, she drew near enough that our noses were almost touching. I tried to keep my eyes fixed ahead, attempting to steady my anxious breath so she wouldn't notice, but, of course, she did. It was then that I involuntarily averted my eyes, unable to bear her stare.
