Nadie Lee and The Ghosts of Ilvermorny (Completed ✔️)

Trapped?

A/N- I am so sorry for making you guys wait so long. That Honors/AP/Band/Orchestra life never gives, am I right? This chapter is a bit short. Would you guys prefer shorter chapters more often or longer chapters less often? Answer in the comments. As always, thanks for your views and votes. Your support means so much!

Nadie took a deep breath and looked up from the painting.

"How?" she whispered. Gretchen looked pale.

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the headmistress said with a sigh.

"Is she trapped in there?" Nadie said without thinking.

"Trapped... trapped in the painting?" The headmistress said to herself, suddenly deep in thought.

"Is it possible?" she muttered. "But is there any other explanation?"

"If she is in the painting, why isn't she moving?" Gretchen asked.

"I don't know. That's the problem, I suppose. If this was a normal painting, we could just ask her." The headmistress paused. "Well, thank you for your information. You can return to class." Gretchen and Nadie stood reluctantly and exited the office.

"So what do..." Nadie noticed that Gretchen was shaking. "Gretchen?" The girl turned to face her, tears in her eyes. "Oh..." Nadie awkwardly embraced her, and Gretchen began to cry a bit more. Nadie spotted a bench and led her over to it. "It's going to be ok; Ms. Mackleroy will figure it out."

"Did you see that girl's face?" Gretchen said, wiping her eyes. "And who says we aren't next?" Nadie was quiet. 

"Let's... let's go back to the room."

"But you'll be late for class!"

"I'm sure Malcolm can give us the work..." Gretchen smiled gratefully.

"I can't believe you're skipping classes. I'm such a good bad influence."

"We're not skipping Defense Against the Dark Arts, though," Nadie said darkly. Gretchen nodded. The girls walked back to the dorm in silence. When they arrived, Gretchen promptly went to bed.

"Of course," Nadie muttered. But she couldn't blame her.

********

Nadie looked up from her Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook and saw Gretchen stretching. 

"Time for lunch!"

"You woke up just in time," Nadie laughed.

"So what did you do with this time? Wait, let me guess..."

"Study!" the girls said at the same time. Gretchen shook her head in disappointment.
"I was trying to learn a shield charm."

"Did you?"

"Protego!" Nadie said as she performed the wand movement. A faint shield appeared around her. Gretchen threw her textbook at the shield, and it held for a second before disappearing. "Rats," Nadie sighed. 

"I think you'll get it soon enough." Gretchen said.

Nadie gathered her books and waited at the door. Gretchen yawned and followed her out.

*******

The girls met Hugo at their usual lunch table. "Where's Malcolm?" Nadie queried.

"Oh, he was finishing something up in the room. He told me to go ahead. He should be here soon, though."

"Cool," Nadie said, filling up her plate. "Well, if there's one thing about wizarding school that's miles better than No-maj school, it'd be the lunches," she mused.

"Yeah, except for the threat of death and all, it's great!" Hugo said sarcastically.

Nadie scowled at him. "Well..."

"Do you have the notes for the morning classes?" Hugo laughed. 

"Right," Nadie said. "What was I thinking? Do you care about any of the classes here?"

"Flying," Hugo said matter-of-factly.

"Of course. I think you have a good shot for the quodpot team if you keep it up."

"I hope so," he said wistfully. "Hmm... Malcolm still isn't here?"

"It sure is an odd day. Malcolm missed a meal!" Gretchen joked.

"I think we should head to class now," Nadie said. The others stood up and followed her out of the hall. Nadie let her mind wander as they walked. She liked to look at the paintings. One day, she would ask the paintings about their stories. She didn't really know how these paintings worked. Were they real people? Or just ideas? Nadie decided she would figure it out in her next free period. It might even help her learn a bit more about the disappearances. 

Suddenly, Nadie's musing came to a screeching halt. Gretchen's scream brought her back to reality as she searched for the source. Finally, her eyes landed on a painting: one featuring the terrified face of Malcolm Santoro.