It had been raining heavily lately. The road outside Hogwarts was thick with mud, and the castle's entrance hall was full of muddy footprints. Filch, the caretaker, was in a foul mood, his face a mask of thunder as he scrutinized everyone who entered without wiping their shoes.
The night was moonless and cloudy, the only light coming from the torches flickering on the walls. Feeling guilty for having let the students out for a nighttime stargazing lesson, Professor Anthony patrolled the castle grounds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure who had been sneaking into the Restricted Section. He wasn't expecting what he found instead.
There, atop the Astronomy Tower, stood a small figure, shivering in the wind. As Anthony approached, he realized it was a young Slytherin girl, clutching a book, her eyes fixed on the ground below.
"What are you doing up here?" Anthony asked, softening his tone when he saw her tremble. "Did you forget the password to get back in?"
"I lost two points in Astronomy, Professor," she mumbled as if that explained everything.
"You're upset, aren't you?" Anthony tried to understand. Surely two points weren't worth risking one's life.
"Just thinking, Professor," she replied. "Pansy forgot to untie me."
The girl spoke calmly, but in the darkness, Anthony noticed that her legs were bound together by a Leg-Locker Curse. He quickly dispelled the spell.
"Right, let's get you back to the dormitory," he said. "If you need help, remember to talk to your Head of House. I'm sure he cares about his students."
The girl hesitated. "Aren't you going to take points, Professor?"
"You didn't sneak out intentionally," Anthony reassured her. "Come on, I'll walk you back. If we run into anyone, I'll explain."
"Brilliant," she said, but Anthony thought he detected a note of disappointment in her voice.
Under the torchlight, he saw how pale she was, her lips tinged blue with cold. He conjured a thick cloak and a small flame in a glass jar. "Here, warm your hands. Make sure to visit Madam Pomfrey in the morning."
The girl took the cloak and jar with trembling fingers, her nails also tinged blue. "Thank you, Professor Anthony," she said politely.
"How long have you been up here?" Anthony asked, suddenly realizing the girl might be suffering from exposure.
"Since Astronomy class," she said. "It started around... eight o'clock?"
Five hours! Anthony was appalled. "Alright, we're going to the Hospital Wing first."
"No, Professor," she protested. "I just need to get back to the dormitory and sleep it off."
Anthony was exasperated. "What year are you?"
"Second year Slytherin, Professor. Tracey Davis."
Anthony was taken aback. "Second year?" He distinctly remembered Pansy Parkinson being in the first year.
"I'm half-blood, Professor," Tracey said matter-of-factly.
Anthony led her towards the Hogwarts infirmary, asking, "Are you related to Roger Davies?"
Tracy nodded, wrapping the cloak tighter. "He's my brother."
Now Anthony understood. Roger Davies had told him the story... a pure-blood wizard father disowned by his family for falling in love with a Muggle woman who died in childbirth.
Roger had once said, "My father always claimed St. Mungo's was better than a Muggle hospital, but because of You-Know-Who... Never mind, Professor, I don't remember her."
Anthony sighed inwardly and knocked on Madam Pomfrey's door.
"Who is it?" she called out. After a rustle of movement, the lights flickered on, and Madam Pomfrey stood at the door, looking as energetic as ever.
"Sorry, it's me, Anthony," he said. "Miss Davis might have a chill."
Madam Pomfrey frowned. "Miss Davis?" She took Tracey's hand, feeling her forehead, and said sternly, "Why are you out at this hour? I'll get you some Pepperup Potion... Didn't you take two bottles just yesterday morning?"
Tracy nodded meekly. "You have a good memory, Madam."
Madam Pomfrey gave her a quizzical look before returning with a small bottle. "Drink this. There are beds over there. You can stay here for the night. And don't wander around the castle after hours."
"Sorry for the trouble," Tracey mumbled, sitting on a bed and gulping down the potion. White steam erupted from her ears, and her color returned.
"Thank you for your help, Professor Anthony," Madam Pomfrey said. "She should be fine now. I'll be off then."
"Of course," Anthony replied. "Thank you for your hard work."
The infirmary was empty, the only light coming from the flickering torches and the steam billowing from Tracey. According to Anthony's lesson plans, the steam would probably continue for several hours.
"What classes do you have tomorrow?" Anthony pulled up a chair. It didn't seem like Miss Davis would be getting much sleep.
Tracy lowered her head. "Herbology in the Morning, then Potions and History of Magic."
Anthony nodded. "If you don't feel well, ask to be excused. Don't push yourself. This wasn't your fault."
Tracey looked up at him with an unreadable expression but remained silent.
"Well... I hope Miss Parkinson won't do this again," Anthony said. "But if you can't remember how to counter the Leg-Locker Curse, just jump down to a lower floor. Avoid the wind up on the Astronomy Tower." He tried to be tactful. Roger was a bright student; Anthony couldn't understand why his sister was so reserved.
As he walked back to his room, Anthony thought about young Tracey Davis. Her brother was smart, strong, and popular among the students. Ravenclaw never seemed to care about blood status, but Slytherin... Anthony knew there were rivalries between houses, but he hadn't realized the prejudice ran so deep within Slytherin itself.
He needed to talk to Snape—urgently. His house was heading down a dangerous path.
Lost in thought, Anthony reached the stairs and heard footsteps rushing up from below. He peered over the railing to see Pansy Parkinson, a first-year Slytherin, storming up from the dungeons with a furious expression.