Every Rose Has Its Thorns

Double-cross

"You're full of it, Carrow," he  spat. "You've skipped every tutoring session set up by McGonagall and  now you're interested? What are you up to?"

Celeste placed a hand  over her heart. "I'm merely doing my duties as a prefect and an  upstanding student, Turpin. They'll learn far more from me than you.  Remind me who got the top score on Snape's exam?" His caramel colored  cheeks reddened. "Besides, I don't think they feel that safe with you  after what you did to poor Ivana. Eli, my love, why don't you go ahead?  I'll meet you in the potions classroom."

Randall Turpin's glare  fell into a frown at the frightened first years cowering behind Elijah's  muscular frame. As Elijah led them towards the potions classroom,  Turpin rounded on Celeste, accusing her of using his past mistakes as  her personal weapon. When she had told Rosalie about Randall Turpin, she  painted him as a wolf in sheep's clothing, a deranged lunatic hidden  beneath the facade of a brilliant, kind student, but he seemed genuinely  remorseful over the incident involving Ivana Rosier.

He admitted  to snatching her but it had been borne out of ill-advised intent, driven  by the burden of his alcoholic father and having to care for his  younger siblings. Celeste was oddly smug as he insisted that his  counseling sessions at St. Mungo's helped him find healthier ways of  channeling his grief and stress but it was people like her who wanted to  constantly throw the past in his face. She mockingly clapped, telling  him his therapist should become a playwright for his 'almost believable,  load of dung speech'.

"I know you're up to something," he hissed.  Elijah returned, stuffing an empty potions vial in his back pocket.  "The only person you care about is yourself. You may have Elijah wrapped  around your finger but I'm not fooled."

"These paranoid delusions  of yours are so entertaining," she replied, glancing over at Elijah.  "Keep him away from my little firsties. I don't need him scaring them in  the middle of teaching a forgetfulness potion."

The ghosts  disappeared one by one, the last being a suspicious Randall Turpin  heading out of the dungeons. Hearing a door slam, Rosalie darted into  the storeroom and found the two ingredients on a high shelf. A  frustrated Celeste was waiting for her, several jars sticking out of her  knapsack. Unable to find some of the necessary ingredients, she  suggested checking the apothecary in Hogsmeade. She was not very  talkative as they entered the apothecary.

"So when we get out, we  should probably find Dumbledore," said Rosalie, following her to the  back room. "You'll want to explain to him what really happened that day.  You said it was Randall Turpin, right? He might ask me to corroborate  so I don't want to forget anything important."

Celeste examined a  jar of grey slime. "Yep, Turpin stunned me and then messed with the  cauldron I was using to teach the first years."

"Too many nettles  in the boil cure potion." Rosalie stood outside the room, noting her  lack of a response. "I remember you telling me. It's lucky that he  managed to get away from the blast unharmed. You can't apparate inside  Hogwarts so he must've been fast."

"Guess so. Otherwise, he'd be  the one in this hell, not me," she argued. Behind her back, Rosalie was  eyeing a large jar filled with glittery black powder. "We can worry  about the details later. There it is, hiding behind the salamander  blood."

Celeste turned at the sound of breaking glass. The room  quickly became enveloped in pitch black smoke, snuffing out any light.  Rosalie shut the door, sticking a chair under the handle, and ran into Gladrags,  a boutique across the street. Hiding behind a rack of dresses in the  corner, she did her best to keep quiet, holding her breath at the sound  of a creaking door. Celeste called out to her, her tone sweet and  melodic, telling her that she was spooked by a tipped jar of Peruvian  instant darkness powder. Her footsteps steadily grew closer to Rosalie's  hiding spot.