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| AN OLD WIVES TALE |
song: never let me go by florence + the machine.
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ARA WAS ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE HOSPITAL WING NOT LONG AFTER Harry visited. Ron and Hermione had basically interrogated her the moment they saw her, but she'd merely told them she'd had a bit of a headache, nothing to fuss about, and thankfully they seemed to accept her explanation.
She'd made arrangements to meet up with Atlas after Harry told her that he wanted to speak with her. She hoped he'd tell her about the weird thing that had happened the other night, he'd certainly looked like he knew something. She'd also told Hermione to immediately wake her up if she noticed she was sleepwalking, though her friend was hesitant at first she agreed in the end. Ara did not want to accidentally provoke her own death while she slept.
On Thursday night, Ara found herself waiting by the common room entrance for Harry with Ron, who'd been nice enough to keep her company as they stood side by side, clutching the Marauders Map in her hand as they waited for him to sneak out.
"You think he'll be able to figure it out?" said Ron, his tone anxious.
"Let's hope," Ara sighed. "Otherwise I don't know how he'll—"
The portrait opened and Harry emerged from it at last, carrying his Invisibility Cloak. They'd all agreed that it'd be best if Harry took Cedric's advice and took the egg to the Prefects bathroom at nighttime when it'd be less likely for him to get disturbed or caught. The Invisibility Cloak as well as the Marauders Map would, of course, be essential as added precautions.
"'Bout time," Ron muttered, patting Harry's back before making his way back inside the common room, "good luck, mate."
Harry nodded and Ara hastily passed him the Marauders Map, "Here— If you lose it I'll kill you."
"Oh trust me, I know," Harry grinned at her as the portrait closed behind Ron.
"Good luck, Wonder Boy," Ara turned to leave, though Harry noticed that she wasn't heading inside the common room but in the opposite direction.
"Wait—where are you going?" he called after her, making Ara turn around to face him again.
"To meet up with Atlas," said Ara in a matter-of-fact voice. "He wanted to talk to me, remember?"
"Oh, right, yeah," said Harry, suddenly feeling his stomach lurch. "But, won't you get caught?"
"I have my ways, Potter," Ara winked at him and turned back around to head to the Astronomy tower. "Make sure you figure out that egg!"
It didn't take long for her to make it to her destination, she'd know her way in her sleep—ha!—she almost laughed at the irony. Thankfully, her boots made little noise as they hit the floor and her black leather jacket as well as her black hair weren't easy to spot in the dark so Filch hadn't made an appearance and neither had his cat, Mrs. Norris. Ara had studied the Marauders Map enough times to know a few shortcuts to make her journey easier and so she walked at a fast pace, eager to see what Atlas had to say.
She gave a tired sigh when she saw the staircase she had to climb in order to get to the top of the Tower but she pushed herself nonetheless—after not playing Quidditch for a while her stamina had diminished. She was relieved when she reached the last step; Atlas' back was turned to her so she decided to have a little fun. Taking advantage that he didn't know she was there yet, she cautiously and silently crept up behind him, and when she was close enough, she put both of her hands on his shoulders and let out a scream.
"ARGH!" Atlas cursed as he turned around to scowl at Ara, who was now chuckling to herself, bending over with laughter. "I wanted to meet you here to talk, not so you could scare me half to death!"
"But where's the fun in that?"
Atlas grunted, giving her a slight glare before going straight to the point, "You know why I wanted to talk to you, right?"
"You have information about what happened," Ara stated, putting her hands into her pockets and assessing him with a questioning glance. "About the weird thing the air did?"
"Well. . .not exactly. . ." he trailed off. Ara watched him as he picked up a clear glass of water, which he'd apparently brought, from the floor. "You know what this is, I assume."
"Looks like water to me, unless it's the alcoholic drink that Muggles call Vodia," said Ara, looking boredly towards the glass.
"Vodka." Atlas corrected, frowning.
"Same thing," she shrugged, she still didn't know where he was going with this.
Atlas rolled his eyes, "Anyways, this isn't alcohol, it's water."
"Fascinating," Ara remarked with fake enthusiasm as she leaned against the wall. "What am I supposed to do with water?"
"You won't do anything, look, we both saw that weird thing that you did with the air right? What if I told you that something similar happened to me, but with water," Atlas said carefully, the harsh winds making his hair even puffier than it already was.
"I don't understand. . ." Ara mumbled, blinking, "You're telling me it's some kind of magic that involves the elements?"
"Possibly," Atlas nodded.
"Show me."
Ara had never quite heard of something like this, of wizards or witches manipulating elements and bending them to their will, not in Britain at least. Wandless magic was rare itself but Elementomancy was a whole other thing, more ancient, more chaotic and unpredictable.
Magic like this was catastrophic.
She watched in awe as Atlas carefully placed his hand over the glass, his eyebrows furrowing in slight concentration as he moved his fingers in such a delicate way and made a small portion of the liquid suspend itself into the air. He then closed his hand into a fist and made it separate into tiny little droplets, waving his palm and making them go towards Ara, levitating them around her head.
Ara's lips parted as she stared at the small beads of water surrounding her, the moonlight passing through them and illuminating Ara's face with small patches of luminosity, reflecting into her grey eyes.
"It's beautiful," Ara said and Atlas finally waved his hand once more and made the water return to the glass.
"At first it was terrifying," Atlas chuckled, placing the drink back down on the floor. "But yes, it's pretty cool now."
"What does this mean?" Ara shook her head, staring at the now unmoving water with a dazed expression. "From what I know, nothing like this had happened since well before Hogwarts existed, around the early Middle Ages,"
"How do you even know that?" Atlas gaped.
"I like to read," Ara shrugged before crossing her arms and taking a big breath as she tried to recall the information she'd read about in her second year when she'd been researching about the Chamber of Secrets, "The story is more of a myth than a reality, most people have forgotten about it by now but apparently hundreds of years ago a group of thieves stole a book from an old Italian witch–um—I don't remember much but the book was about elementals, their magic and their abilities. They published the information and tortured the witch so she'd tell them how to become elementals but—well—apparently you can't become one, you have to be born with it. No one knows if they ever succeeded, which, honestly, I doubt they did. But like I said, it's a myth."
Atlas shook his head as he tried to process all the information, "I suppose it could be an old wives tale. . .but then how are we like this? If it's not real then how do we exist?"
Ara threw her arms up in cluelessness, though she had a possibility come to mind. She already suspected Atlas to be a part of the Blacks, so what if the Blacks were descendants of either one of the thieves or the old witch? But then why did no other Black get gifted with such magic? Perhaps it was a gene that was only passed on every few generations. . .
Nothing really made sense in her mind.
"Well—let's leave that for later, we certainly won't figure it out tonight, but. . ." Atlas sighed before offering a small smile, "Why don't you give it a try?"
"What, levitate water with my hand?"
"No, with the air, do something."
Ara hummed, trying to make her mind calm down and stop coming up with superstitions. She looked around for a moment trying to come up with something she could do. She gave Atlas a questioning glance and he shrugged with indifference so she raised her hand towards him, before she even finished forming a thought, a powerful force of air knocked Atlas from his feet and sent him right into the wall, knocking the air right out of him. Ara covered her mouth, half-amused and half-concerned.
"Sorry, you alright?"
"Could've tried something different, but it's fine I suppose," Atlas coughed as he rose to his feet, rubbing his back as he tried to regain his breath.
"I feel drowsy," Ara blinked a few times, leaning sideways against the wall.
"Yes, that can happen sometimes, especially if you're starting out," Atlas sighed, cocking his head and stretching his neck to get rid of the growing ache. "I've learned that this magic comes with a price, be prepared to get the life sucked out of you if you use it too much."
"Hmmm," Ara nodded, suddenly getting hit with an urgent need to ask her next question, "Have you ever, maybe, had bad migraines? Ones that simply appear out of nowhere for no reason?"
"No," He confusedly shook his head. "Why?"
"No reason," Ara dismissed, going over to stand near the other side of the Tower and leaning her forearms on one of the only railings. Atlas joined her a few seconds later and they both stood in silence as they looked over the Hogwarts grounds and the sky.
"So, have you told your boyfriend about the air thing?" Atlas broke the peacefulness.
"I don't have a boyfriend,"
"What's Potter then? A decorative piece?"
Ara scoffed to hide her flushed face, quickly regaining her composure as she remembered that this was Harry they were talking about. Harry, her best friend, who she most certainly didn't like.
"He's my best friend, nothing more."
"That's what they all say," Atlas teased.
"Merlin, you're annoying."
"Just like you."
"Do you want me to throw you off? Because I will."
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LATER ON, AFTER BIDDING ATLAS GOOD NIGHT, ARA WAS HEADING BACK towards the Gryffindor common room where she decided she would wait until Harry got back.
She was about to turn to another corridor when Ara felt an arm wrap around her waist and pull her backwards, she was about to scream but a hand was placed over her mouth, and she felt a type of fabric being placed over her.
"Shhh, it's me," Harry whispered in her ear, letting his hand drop from her mouth when he was sure she wouldn't scream. She quickly realised that they were under the invisibility cloak.
"What in the Merlin's left ball was that?" Ara hissed as she turned around to face him, they were so close that they could feel each other's breaths on their cheeks, and their chests were pressed against each other. "I thought I was getting bloody kidnapped."
Harry seemed in a trance, her face was so close to his that he could practically count the faint freckles that were scattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. He blinked quickly, finally snapping out of it.
"Look," Harry whispered as he showed her the Marauders Map, she looked down and saw the name "Bartemius Crouch" in Snape's office.
"What's Crouch doing in Snape's office?" Ara whispered suspiciously, she stared at the dot. Mr. Crouch was supposed to be too ill to go to work or to come to the Yule Ball — so what was he doing, sneaking into Hogwarts at one o'clock in the morning? Ara and Harry both watched closely as the dot moved around and around the room, pausing here and there. . . .
Harry shook his head cluelessly, "C'mon." His hand closed around hers as they started to walk in haste.
"Did you figure out the clue?" Ara whispered.
Harry nodded, his hold on her tightening, "I'll tell you later. I think we might have a problem with the next task. . ."
"There's always something," Ara mumbled. "We'll find a solution, don't worry."
They walked down the stairs as quietly as possible, though the faces in some of the portraits still turned curiously at the squeak of a floorboard. They crept along the corridor below, pushed aside a tapestry about halfway along, and proceeded down a narrower staircase, a shortcut that would take them down two floors. Ara kept glancing down at the map, wondering . . . It just didn't seem in character, somehow, for correct, law-abiding Mr. Crouch to be sneaking around somebody else's office this late at night. . . .
And then, halfway down the staircase, not thinking about what he was doing, not concentrating on anything but the peculiar behaviour of Mr. Crouch, Harry's leg suddenly sank right through the trick step Neville always forgot to jump. He gave an ungainly wobble, and the golden egg, still damp from the bath, slipped from under his arm. He, along with Ara, lurched forward to try and catch it, but too late; the egg fell down the long staircase with a bang as loud as a bass drum on every step — the Invisibility Cloak slipped — Harry snatched at it, and the Marauder's Map fluttered out of Ara's hand and slid down six stairs, where they couldn't reach it.
"I'm going to murder you," muttered Ara as she anxiously looked around.
"I'd rather you didn't."
The golden egg fell through the tapestry at the bottom of the staircase, burst open, and began wailing loudly in the corridor below. Harry and Ara pulled out their wands and struggled to touch the Marauder's Map, to wipe it blank, but it was too far away to reach —
Pulling the cloak back over themselves, they were listening hard with their eyes screwed up with fear . . . and, almost immediately —
"PEEVES!"
It was the unmistakable hunting cry of Filch the caretaker. They could hear his rapid, shuffling footsteps coming nearer and nearer, his wheezy voice raised in fury.
Harry pulled Ara closer to him by her arms so now her back was flushed against his chest, they were both trying to keep as quiet as possible, holding their breaths.
"What's this racket? Wake up the whole castle, will you? I'll have you, Peeves, I'll have you, you'll . . . and what is this?"
Filch's footsteps halted; there was a clink of metal on metal and the wailing stopped — Filch had picked up the egg and closed it. Harry and Ara stood very still, her back still pressed tightly against his chest, one of Harry's legs still jammed tightly in the magical step, listening. Any moment now, Filch was going to pull aside the tapestry, expecting to see Peeves . . . and there would be no Peeves . . . but if he came up the stairs, he would spot the Marauder's Map . . . and Invisibility Cloak or not, the map would show "Harry Potter" and "Ara Black" standing exactly where they were.
"Egg?" Filch said quietly at the foot of the stairs. "My sweet!" —Mrs. Norris was obviously with him — "This is a Triwizard clue! This belongs to a school champion!"
Harry felt sick; his heart was hammering so very fast and loud that he was almost sure Ara could hear it —
"PEEVES!" Filch roared gleefully. "You've been stealing!"
He ripped back the tapestry below, and Ara saw his horrible, pouchy face and bulging, pale eyes staring up the dark and (to Filch) deserted staircase.
"Hiding, are you?" he said softly. "I'm coming to get you, Peeves. . . . You've gone and stolen a Triwizard clue, Peeves. . . .Dumbledore'll have you out of here for this, you filthy, pilfering poltergeist. . . ."
Filch started to climb the stairs, his scrawny, dust-coloured cat at his heels. Mrs. Norris's lamp-like eyes, so very like her master's, were fixed directly upon Ara and Harry. They had had occasion before now to wonder whether the Invisibility Cloak worked on cats. . . . Sick with apprehension, they watched Filch drawing nearer and nearer in his old flannel dressing gown — Harry tried desperately to pull his trapped leg free, but it merely sank a few more inches — any second now, Filch was going to spot the map or walk right into them —
"Filch? What's going on?"
Filch stopped a few steps below them and turned. At the foot of the stairs stood the only person who could make Ara's and Harry's situation worse: Snape. He was wearing a long grey nightshirt and he looked livid.
"It's Peeves, Professor," Filch whispered malevolently. "He threw this egg down the stairs."
Snape climbed up the stairs quickly and stopped beside Filch. Harry gritted his teeth, convinced his loudly thumping heart would give him away at any second. . . . he could feel Ara tense, he saw her jaw clench at the sight of Snape. . .
"Peeves?" said Snape softly, staring at the egg in Filch's hands. "But Peeves couldn't get into my office. . . ."
"This egg was in your office, Professor?"
"Of course not," Snape snapped. "I heard banging and wailing —"
"Yes, Professor, that was the egg —"
"— I was coming to investigate —"
"— Peeves threw it, Professor —"
"— and when I passed my office, I saw that the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!"
"But Peeves couldn't —"
"I know he couldn't, Filch!" Snape snapped again. "I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break!" Snape looked up the stairs, straight through Ara and Harry, and then down into the corridor below. "I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Filch."
"I — yes, Professor — but —"
Filch looked yearningly up the stairs, right through Ara and Harry who could see that he was very reluctant to forgo the chance of cornering Peeves. Go, Harry pleaded with him silently, go with Snape . . .go . . . Mrs. Norris was peering around Filch's legs. . . . Harry had the distinct impression that she could smell him. . . .
Just then, Ara felt her nose tingle a little bit and her eyes became watery. She could smell the soap scent that lingered around Harry and she silently cursed him for using too much soap in the bathroom. If this were some other time she would've gladly enjoyed the scents emitting from him but right now it was rather inconvenient.
"Harry," said Ara quietly.
"What?" he whispered back.
"I need to sneeze."
"Can't you hold it?" mumbled Harry desperately.
Ara shook her head but before she could utter a sound, Harry placed one of the hands that had been holding her arm on her nose, closing it so he could prevent her from sneezing. Her eyes watered more when she was able to prevent the noise that would surely get them caught.
"The thing is, Professor," said Filch plaintively, "the headmaster will have to listen to me this time. Peeves has been stealing from a student, it might be my chance to get him thrown out of the castle once and for all —"
"Filch, I don't give a damn about that wretched poltergeist; it's my office that's —"
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.
Snape stopped talking very abruptly. He and Filch both looked down at the foot of the stairs. Harry and Ara saw Mad-Eye Moody limp into sight through the narrow gap between their heads. Moody was wearing his old travelling cloak over his nightshirt and leaning on his staff as usual.
"Pyjama party, is it?" he growled up the stairs.
"Professor Snape and I heard noises, Professor," said Filch at once. "Peeves the Poltergeist, throwing things around as usual —and then Professor Snape discovered that someone had broken into his off —"
"Shut up!" Snape hissed to Filch.
Moody took a step closer to the foot of the stairs. Ara and Harry saw Moody's magical eye travel over Snape, and then, unmistakably, onto them. It must've been an interesting sight, for Harry still had his hand over Ara's nose and mouth and they both sported anxious looks.
Their hearts gave a horrible jolt. Moody could see through Invisibility Cloaks . . . he alone could see the full strangeness of the scene. Snape in his nightshirt, Filch clutching the egg, and them, Harry and Ara, trapped in the stairs behind them, as Harry still had his hand over Ara's nose and mouth, both looking anxious. Moody's lopsided gash of a mouth opened in surprise. For a few seconds, he, Harry and Ara stared straight into the Professor's eyes. Then Moody closed his mouth and turned his blue eye upon Snape again.
"Did I hear that correctly, Snape?" he asked slowly. "Someone broke into your office?"
"It is unimportant," said Snape coldly.
"On the contrary," growled Moody, "it is very important. Who'd want to break into your office?"
"A student, I daresay," said Snape. Ara could see a vein flickering horribly on Snape's greasy temple, she refrained herself from insulting him, knowing that if she did they would inevitably get caught. "It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard . . . students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt. . . ."
"Reckon they were after potion ingredients, eh?" said Moody. "Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?"
They saw the edge of Snape's sallow face turn a nasty brick colour, the vein in his temple pulsing more rapidly.
"You know I'm hiding nothing, Moody," he said in a soft and dangerous voice, "as you've searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself."
Moody's face twisted into a smile. "Auror's privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye —"
"Dumbledore happens to trust me," said Snape through clenched teeth. "I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!"
Ara's curiosity perked up, why would Moody suggest that Dumbledore wanted to keep an eye on Snape? Did Snape have something to hide? Her eyes narrowed as she inspected both Professors closely.
" 'Course Dumbledore trusts you," growled Moody. "He's a trusting man, isn't he? Believes in second chances. But me — I say there are spots that don't come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d'you know what I mean?"
Second chances?
Snape suddenly did something very strange. He seized his left forearm convulsively with his right hand, as though something on it had hurt him.
Ara's eyes went wide as her heart gave a surprised stutter, wasn't that where Death Eaters would usually get their Dark Mark—?
Moody laughed. "Get back to bed, Snape."
"You don't have the authority to send me anywhere!" Snape hissed, letting go of his arm as though angry with himself. "I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!"
"Prowl away," said Moody, but his voice was full of menace. "I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor sometime. . . .You've dropped something, by the way. . . ."
With a stab of horror, Ara and Harry saw Moody point at the Marauder's Map, still lying on the staircase six steps below them. As Snape and Filch both turned to look at it, Harry threw caution to the winds; he took his arms away from Ara, raised them under the cloak and waved furiously at Moody to attract his attention, mouthing, "It's ours! Ours!"
Snape had reached out for it, a horrible expression of dawning comprehension on his face —
"Accio Parchment!"
The map flew up into the air, slipped through Snape's outstretched fingers, and soared down the stairs into Moody's hand.
"My mistake," Moody said calmly. "It's mine — must've dropped it earlier —"
But Snape's black eyes were darting from the egg in Filch's arms to the map in Moody's hand, and Ara could tell he was putting two and two together, as only Snape could. . . .
"Black and Potter," he said quietly.
"What's that?" said Moody calmly, folding up the map and pocketing it.
"Potter! Black!" Snape snarled, and he actually turned his head and stared right at the place where Ara and Harry were, as though he could suddenly see them. "That egg is Potter's egg. That piece of parchment belongs to Black. I have seen it before, I recognize it! Potter and Black are here! Potter, in his Invisibility Cloak!"
Snape stretched out his hands like a blind man and began to move up the stairs; Harry could have sworn his over-large nostrils were dilating, trying to sniff Harry and Ara out — trapped, Harry leaned backwards, wrapping his arms around Ara protectively, as he tried pressing her tighter against his chest. Since she was in front, Snape was most likely going to get her first, so Harry tried to subtly push her behind him, trying to avoid Snape's fingertips, but any moment now —
"There's nothing there, Snape!" barked Moody, "but I'll be happy to tell the headmaster how quickly your mind jumped to Harry Potter and Ara Black!"
"Meaning what?" Snape turned again to look at Moody, his hands still outstretched, inches from Harry's chest, Ara was now safely placed behind him.
"Meaning that Dumbledore's very interested to know who's got it in for Potter!" said Moody, limping nearer still to the foot of the stairs. "And so am I, Snape . . . very interested. . . ." The torchlight flickered across his mangled face, so that the scars, and the chunk missing from his nose, looked deeper and darker than ever.
Snape was looking down at Moody, and Harry and Ara couldn't see the expression on his face. For a moment, nobody moved or said anything. Then Snape slowly lowered his hands.
"I merely thought," said Snape, in a voice of forced calm, "that if Potter or Black were wandering around after hours again . . . it's an unfortunate habit of theirs . . . they should be stopped. For — for their own safety."
"Ah, I see," said Moody softly. "Got Potter's and Black's best interests at heart, have you?"
Ara almost laughed at that.
There was a pause. Snape and Moody were still staring at each other. Mrs. Norris gave a loud meow, still peering around Filch's legs, looking for the source of Harry's bubble-bath smell.
"I think I will go back to bed," Snape said curtly.
"Best idea you've had all night," said Moody. "Now, Filch, if you'll just give me that egg —"
"No!" said Filch, clutching the egg as though it were his firstborn son. "Professor Moody, this is evidence of Peeves' treachery!"
"It's the property of the champion he stole it from," said Moody. "Hand it over, now."
Snape swept downstairs and passed Moody without another word. Filch made a chirruping noise to Mrs. Norris, who stared blankly at Ara and Harry for a few more seconds before turning and following her master. Still breathing very fast, they heard Snape walking away down the corridor; Filch handed Moody the egg and disappeared from view too, muttering to Mrs. Norris. "Never mind, my sweet . . . we'll see Dumbledore in the morning . . . tell him what Peeves was up to. . . ."
A door slammed. Ara and Harry were left staring down at Moody, who placed his staff on the bottommost stair and started to climb laboriously toward them, a dull clunk on every other step.
"Close shave, Potter, Black," he muttered.
"Yeah . . . I — er . . . thanks," said Harry weakly.
"Thanks," said Ara, she was staring curiously at Moody.
"What is this thing?" said Moody, drawing the Marauders Map out of his pocket and unfolding it.
"Map of Hogwarts," said Harry, hoping Moody was going to pull him out of the staircase soon; his leg was really hurting him, he was grateful that Ara grabbed his arm to support some of his weight.
"Merlin's beard," Moody whispered, staring at the map, his magical eye going haywire. "This . . . this is some map, Potter!"
"Yeah, it's . . . quite useful," Harry said. His eyes were starting to water from the pain.
"Potter, Black . . ." he said slowly, "you didn't happen, by any chance, to see who broke into Snape's office, did you? On this map, I mean?"
"Crouch," Ara stated simply.
Moody's magical eye whizzed over the entire surface of the map. He looked suddenly alarmed.
"Crouch?" he said. "You're — you're sure, Black?"
"Yeah, why?" said Ara. Harry looked at her face, she didn't look anxious like the moments before, she almost seemed defensive as she looked up at Moody.
"Well, he's not here anymore," said Moody, his eyes still wheezing over the map. "Crouch . . . that's very — very interesting. . . ."
He said nothing for almost a minute, still staring at the map. Harry and Ara could tell that this news meant something to Moody and very much wanted to know what it was. Harry wondered whether he dared ask. Moody scared him slightly . . . yet Moody had just helped him avoid an awful lot of trouble. . . .
"Er . . . Professor Moody . . . why d'you reckon Mr. Crouch wanted to look around Snape's office?"
Moody's magical eye left the map and fixed, quivering, upon Harry. It was a penetrating glare, and Harry had the impression that Moody was sizing him up, wondering whether to answer or not, or how much to tell him.
"Sore subject?" Ara questioned with fake innocence, making Moody's eyes snap towards her direction.
"Put it this way, Potter, Black," Moody muttered finally, "they say old Mad-Eye's obsessed with catching Dark wizards . . . but I'm nothing — nothing — compared to Barty Crouch."
He continued to stare at the map.
"Professor Moody?" Harry said again. "D'you think . . . could this have anything to do with . . . maybe Mr. Crouch thinks there's something going on. . . ."
"Like what?" said Moody sharply.
Harry wondered how much he dared say, he looked sideways at Ara but she wasn't looking at him, she was looking at the Professor with an odd face, as if she was analysing him. He didn't want Moody to guess that he had a source of information outside Hogwarts; that might lead to tricky questions about Sirius, and he knew Ara would go mad if someone found out about her dad.
"I don't know," Harry muttered finally, "odd stuff's been happening lately, hasn't it? It's been in the Daily Prophet . . . the Dark Mark at the World Cup, and the Death Eaters and everything. . . ."
Both of Moody's mismatched eyes widened.
"You're a sharp boy, Potter," he said. His magical eye roved back to the Marauder's Map. "Crouch could be thinking along those lines," he said slowly. "Very possible . . . there have been some funny rumours flying around lately — helped along by Rita Skeeter, of course. It's making a lot of people nervous, I reckon." A grim smile twisted his lopsided mouth. "Oh if there's one thing I hate," he muttered, more to himself than to Harry and Ara, and his magical eye was fixed on the left-hand corner of the map, "it's a Death Eater who walked free. . . ."
Harry and Ara stared at him. Could Moody possibly mean what they thought he meant?
"And now I want to ask you a question, Potter," said Moody in a more businesslike tone. "Can I borrow this?"
"Oh!" said Harry, taken aback. "Umm, it's Ara's, actually."
"Well, can I Black?" He looked eagerly at Ara.
No, Ara thought grimly but her mouth gave a different answer, "Sure."
"Good," growled Moody. "I can make good use of this . . .this might be exactly what I've been looking for. . . . Right, bed, Black, Potter, come on, now. . . ."
They climbed to the top of the stairs together, Moody still examining the map as though it was a treasure the likes of which he had never seen before. They walked in silence to the door of Moody's office, where he stopped and looked up at Ara and Harry.
"Have you ever thought of a career as an Auror, Potter? Black?"
"No," said Harry.
"Sometimes," said Ara simply.
"You'd make a good Auror, Black," said Moody, nodding, "You want to consider it," he said, looking at Harry thoughtfully. "Yes, indeed . . . and incidentally . . . I'm guessing you weren't just taking that egg for a walk tonight?"
"Er — no," said Harry, grinning. "I've been working out the clue."
"You were with him Black?"
"No," Ara said, though she appeared greatly annoyed by the questions he was asking. "I like taking night strolls."
"I see. . ." Moody said under his breath, before looking at both of them again. "See you in the morning. . . ."
He went back into his office, staring down at the Marauder's Map again, and closed the door behind him.
Ara and Harry walked slowly back to Gryffindor Tower, lost in thought about Snape, and Crouch, and what it all meant. . . . Why was Crouch pretending to be ill, if he could manage to get to Hogwarts when he wanted to? What did he think Snape was concealing in his office?
"Don't you feel something's off about Moody?" said Ara, breaking the silence as they neared the common room.
"What do you mean?" Harry looked at her questionably.
"Dunno, I just don't get the best feeling about him," she shrugged, not really being able to press her finger on what exactly bothered her. "And did you see how Snape covered his left forearm? If I didn't know any better I'd say he was a Death Eater."
"You overthink too much, Nyx," Harry gave a hollow laugh. "I don't think Dumbledore would've hired a Death Eater as a teacher."
"If you say so. . ."
Still, Ara couldn't help but still feel a sense of doubt in the two teachers.
☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾
HIIIIII
Ara every time she looks at Moody: I smell something weird. . .
I hope you liked the chapter!!
Also, this time I added a bit more history to the elemental plot of this story and I'm so glad for that! Tell me what you think about it so far!
qotd: sunrise or sunset? SUNSET!
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Ily!! See you soon <33