The Art of Secrets

Chapter Seventeen: Letters from Paris

Summer was creeping over the grounds around the castle; sky and lake alike turned periwinkle blue and flowers large as cabbages burst into bloom in the greenhouses, but with no Hagrid visible from the castle windows, striding the grounds with Fang at his heels, the scene didn't look right to Erica; no better, in fact, than the scene inside of the castle, where things were so horribly wrong.

After being guilt tripped by Pansy night after night she finally tried to visit Hermione, even convincing Gemma to take her up there, but visitors were now barred from the hospital wing.

"We're taking no more chances," Madam Pomfrey told them severely through a crack in the hospital door. "No, I'm sorry, there's every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off..."

Erica decided not to tell her how idiotic that thought was. With Dumbledore gone, fear had spread as never before, so that the sun warming the castle walls outside seemed to stop at the mullioned windows. There was barely a face to be seen in the school that didn't look worried and tense, and any laughter that rang through the corridors sounded shrill and unnatural and was quickly stifled.

She was getting nowhere with Nagendra and the search for the imposter, and her breakthrough with getting her to agree not to kill anyone had been well over a month ago now, the elation from it long having worn off. The truth was, Erica was growing tired of everything. Of the sneaking around, of Pansy only talking to her when they were alone in their dorms, of the constant state of panic everywhere and the teachers herding them from lesson to lesson and having to coerce the prefects to take her if she wanted to go to the library or if she was late for breakfast.

She just wanted everything to be over, but sadly it didn't seem like it would be going that way. Whenever she was feeling particularly down, she would always go and see Severus though, which is how she found herself in his office early on Friday evening, complaining about anything and everything as she lounged about.

"What has been happening with you and your friends, Erica?" Severus asked as she approached his desk, getting straight to the point as she set down the potion vials she had been messing with. Okay, so less lounging now. She tried not to pout at the sudden serious turn in the conversation, though she should have known that he wouldn't have been interested in the ongoing grudge she had going with the merpeople in the black lake for long.

"If I had a knut for every time someone has asked me that," she shook her head, giving him a small smile despite the ache that still resided deep in her chest whenever she thought about them, despite how everything was better with Pansy now. "We've just had a little falling out. Everything will be back to normal in no time."

"If I had a knut for every time you told me that," he was smiling, but there was real concern behind the slight amusement. Somehow that made it seem like everything would be okay soon. If he had been concerned, then she would have worried and the situation would only have deteriorated. "How would you feel about tutoring some of the younger students in Potions in the meantime?"

"Tutoring?" She could hardly hide her disbelief, "You do realise that the only year younger than me is the first-years, don't you?"

"Yes," he rolled his eyes at her, "And I have already broached the subject with several students who I feel could benefit from the extra help."

"Picking on Gryffindors?" She teased, but he only rolled his eyes at her again.

"Perhaps," he smirked, "The truth of it is that you will have several students waiting for you on Saturday mornings in here, and if you do not turn up it will be such a shame, and I may have to fail them."

"Who will I have then?" She sighed, rolling back her shoulders.

"Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Harper Adams and Tracey Davies," he replied smoothly.