I stood in wait. The classroom for Slughorn's party was filled with people enjoying themselves, and talking to one another. My eyes zeroed on some of them, and then moved to others. The destitute, the dispossessed, those that had been brought along, and then abandoned to themselves.
"Hello there, Flora, Hestia" I said with a charming smile, "How's life treating you on this fine party?"
"Boring," Hestia answered with a roll of the eyes. "We came together, but Flora doesn't want to act like the man."
"You came with me, so you're the one who has to act like the man," Flora retorted hotly.
"Ah, sisterly bonds," I chuckled amiably. "You're both dashing tonight, the green suits you-"
"Oh, and let me present you the Carrow twins, they're quite good with their Potions-" Professor Slughorn somehow came into the fray, and as he literally stepped right in front of me, I couldn't help but realize, quite actually, that he'd blocked my attempt at making casual conversation. I sighed, shook my head, and took a few steps back. Megan was busy talking animatedly with an older man that was probably a Potions' apothecary.
The Carrow Twins were, ironically, two Slytherin students I had taught a few years back. I didn't know they had ties with the notorious Carrow twins, but they were actually pretty normal girls. Though I didn't know how they felt about Blood Purity, since that argument had never come up, but if they had the grace not to mention their archaic beliefs in public, then they were a step above the others.
With them out of the picture, I began to step towards another lonely looking boy.
"Mister Umbrus, would you be so kind as to aid an old man like myself and get further refreshments from the kitchens?" Professor Slughorn looked at me with a happy smile, and I returned the smile too.
"Professor Slughorn," I answered amiably. "I acknowledge your attempts, but I fear you have sorely misunderstood me," I raised my right hand, and snapped my fingers. The refreshments appeared on the tables, neatly lined up. "Do not think me such a fool," I whispered with barely a tone in my voice, "If you have a problem with me...just say it, and I'll take my leave."
Horace looked at the refreshments, and then back at me. His eyebrows ever so slightly rose in surprise, and then he shook his head. "Why, I think it's preposterous. You're a valued student, Mister Umbrus, and I've got nothing against you. Perhaps your potion-work could use some improvement, but not everyone can be as talented as Miss Jones-"
"Professor," I said with a tired sigh. "I do not know what I did, but I am not blind. If you don't want to say it, it's fine," I made a small smile. "I'll take my leave. Apologies for being a bother."
I then gave a light nod of the head, much to the professor's slightly concerned expression, and headed for Megan to tell her I was leaving.
"I have to go," I said. "Got a fickle potion to check on."
Megan blinked, and then furrowed her brows. "We're leaving, then," she said firmly. She grabbed hold of my arm, tightened the hold on it with a huff, and then began to walk out.
I was pulled along, and as we both ended up walking outside Slughorn's party, I sighed. "You didn't have to leave with me."
"I did," Megan huffed. "I wanted to say something earlier, but I never found the time. That man's a weasel, not a Potions' Professor." She rolled her eyes. "I don't like being treated differently because I have a famous aunt."
"You do?" I asked, and then blinked. "Didn't know Hestia was famous."
Megan giggled. "Never change, Shade," she plopped her head down against my shoulder. "We have some time before curfew, don't we?"
"We do, actually," I acquiesced, "I think Professor Weasel had poor Belby write permission slips and then stamp them with his signature to get everyone out of trouble when they return to their dormitories."
Megan snickered. "How do you even come up with stuff like that?"
"I don't, Belby told me while eating the pudding that was meant for dessert," I answered. "I should have swiped the stamp off Belby, but then the poor boy would have gotten into trouble."
Megan sighed, keeping her head against my shoulder. "Say," she mused, "what if I told you I've taken the Felix Felicis before heading for Slughorn's party?"
"Then it means your luck comes up by staying away from me," I replied with a chuckle. "You were having the time of your life speaking with that guy, weren't you?"
"He's the owner of a large apothecary brand in the Wizarding world," she answered. "A position in one of his stores is going to open up soon, and if I manage my NEWTs in time, he'll let me try out."
"Quite lucky indeed," I said with a smile.
"You know what would make this day absolutely perfect?" Megan asked, coyly smiling as she let go of my arm. She took a few steps forward, spun, and then pointed her finger upwards. I blinked and lifted my gaze up to the ceiling, where a mistletoe was floating harmlessly by. "It was in the decorations for Slughorn's dinner."
"You actually did take the Felix Felicis," I mouthed in disbelief.
"Maybe I did, maybe I just prepared everything in advance," Megan answered. She then dropped the mistletoe in her palm, and sighed. "But I won't force an answer out of you. It wouldn't be fair."
"Why not?" I raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't the liquid luck work?"
"If I did that, I guess I'd live with the constant dread that it was the potions' work, and not yourself who answered me. And I don't doubt you wouldn't forgive anyone forcing you to do something against your will -how you reacted to the Amortentia was a good enough sign," her smile was brittle, but still there. "I guess that as Dumbledore's secret apprentice, you've got places to be and dangers to face."
"Well, I'm not really his secret apprentice," I answered with a sigh, taking a couple of steps forward. "Though it's true there's danger ahead, and I'm worried about what will happen to my friends."
We were close, quite close indeed. I gingerly took the mistletoe from her hand and as magic flowed through it, it crystallized into a hairpin. "Here you go," I said with a bitter smile. "It should keep you safe if you wear it."
"A girl might get the wrong ideas from something like this," Megan acquiesced, placing the pin on her hair. "Does it look good on me?"
"Well, clearly all accessories made by Shade Industries are beautiful, so there never was any doubt," I smiled, and gingerly gave her a tight hug, much to her surprise. "You're an awesome witch, and don't let anyone ever tell you the opposite," I whispered. "But the curfew is soon to come," I let go of the hug, "So, Miss Jones, return to your House's common room. I have a patrol to make."
"Aye, aye, Sir Prefect Sir," Megan said with a light giggle, before walking away. I crossed my arms behind my back as she left, and once she was out of sight I slowly unfurled the Marauders' Map and checked for signs of students' activities nearby.
The password for the Slytherin dungeon was Purity, apparently. The Marauders' map was kind enough to provide it for me, and as I stepped inside the green-lit dungeon-like room, I began to hum ever so pleasantly.
There was no one around, just as planned.
I quietly let the gargoyle stone snakes slither out from my robes' sleeves, their finger-sized forms slithering into nooks and crannies, hiding within the furniture and taking on residence upon the top shelves out of sight.
I stepped outside with no one none the wiser, and made my way to the upper floors ready to resume my patrolling for the earlier part of the night. With the Marauders' map, seeking out misbehaving students was such a cinch that I was done in a matter of half an hour. Though it ranged from snogging in closets all the way to stealing food from the kitchen, there was nothing peculiarly untoward.
At least, not until the end.
"Mister Potter," I said with a charming smile. "Miss Granger," I grinned, making no hint of hiding the Marauders' map in my hands. "Fancy seeing you here."
Harry looked strangely glad in having found me. "Shade-listen mate, I need your help," he then realized I had his map in my hands, "That's where it went! Did I hand it over to you? I was so out of it, I didn't even know what I was doing-"
"Snogging Romilda aside," Hermione answered with a huff, "That girl's lucky she got off with a month's punishment with Professor Sprout."
I nodded, and closed the map, "Do you mind if I keep this map for a while longer, Harry?" I asked, "Just a few more days. There's something fishy going on and I'm not quite sure if it's worth bothering the staff or not."
"Oh, well, it's kind-of my father's map-" Harry said, making me blink in surprise. "Sirius told me that he was one of the Marauders of the map, you see? Him, and Sirius and even professor Lupin-"
"Then, can he make another one? Or tell you how he made it in the first place?" I rolled the map further with a sigh, "Maybe even ask Professor Lupin about it-"
"They've lost contact with him," Harry muttered. "I-I stressed Dumbledore a bit because it was worrying even Sirius and...and there's no clue where he went, or what happened, but-"
"But we don't know anything else," Hermione stressed, silencing Harry's next words.
One of my eyebrows rose. "You...do not?"
"We don't," Hermione said. She looked mightily torn on what to say, and thus chose not to say anything. "Look," she appeared chagrined next, "it's nothing you should bother yourself with, all right?"
"Yeah, what Hermione said," Harry said, appearing surprisingly quick on the uptake.
"You do understand I have realized you're both hiding something from me," I said amiably. "Secrets don't last forever, eventually, they'll be unveiled." I made a gesture of handing back the Marauders' map, which Harry extended his hand in order to grasp.
Then, I pulled the map back. "Did Dumbledore ask you not to say anything?"
"He's just worried," Harry said, huffing at my sleight of hand trick. The next time I offered the map, I let him take it. "He's been showing me things with that Pensieve of his-memories of Voldemort."
I stared at Harry in disbelief. "What."
Harry grimaced, "Said it would be proper if I saw who he was, before-"
"That's enough, Harry," Hermione said.
"Before what," I stressed out, my eyes narrowing.
"We can't say it," Hermione retorted. "We won't say it. It-It's better this way. Really."
I stared at the two and their retreating back, much to Harry's chagrined expression at not being able to say anything more, and Hermione's own torn one. My eyes were instead narrow, and disbelief was a well-known emotion that was rolling in waves across me.
Dumbledore didn't want me to meddle, but he was allowing Harry Potter to. Destined one or not, it was pretty clear that there was something planned, something that might, for once, revolve around Harry's actions and not mine.
Had I been relegated to side-character? Had someone given me a script which said I had to stop hogging the spotlight?
This couldn't stand.
Sure, perhaps this was Fate's way of saying that Harry Potter needed to get an Avada Kedavra to the chest, but if that was the case, then I could gladly give him one! Though, actually, not really.
I couldn't. Even if Gregory Goyle came in front of me with his wand, I wouldn't be able to throw an Avada Kedavra at him. Perhaps a Sectumsempra, which would yield the same result of untimely death, but not an Unforgivable.
And the price to pay to be able to cast it would be too high for the likes of me.
Still, there was no way in hell I was just going to let them be.
I would deploy my very own brand of diplomacy.
The one that came through incredibly obnoxious befriending.
You underestimate my nosiness, Dumbledore...
...I have Draghuls in the High Grounds after all!