Chapter 7: The Emergence

"How about a bake sale? We could get participating shops from Hogsmeade and maybe some from the house-elves. People could send their friends and loved ones something."

"How about dancing elves singing carols? I'm sure everyone would enjoy receiving that." Draco said, the sarcasm in his tone evident.

"Okay look," Celine threw her quill and parchment onto the table. Messy scrawls and crossed out items could be seen on the former's surface. "-the Prefects' Meeting is tomorrow and we still don't have an idea for December's student-bonding activity. So unless you want to go up there looking like a daft Hippogriff with dungs for brains, I suggest you be a little more cooperative."

"She's right Draco." Godric piped from his portrait.

Draco looked as if he was trying hard not to roll his eyes. Currently sprawled on the armchair, one leg languidly hanging over the side he placed his fingertips against his chin. Strands of platinum blonde hair fell from his face revealing his pointed profile. Celine felt an uncomfortable pang in her chest causing her to cast her gaze away. The last time she'd seen him in that profile he'd been at the foot of the bed.

"What was the first thing you suggested?" He sat up suddenly.

Celine met his eyes. "I don't know…we've been through a lot."

"The thing with old man Kringle."

"Kring-…? Oh you mean Santa! I don't…" Celine paused. "Was it the Secret Santa idea?"

"Yes." Draco said leaning back against his chair. "That sounded like a relatively good option. Better than most anyway, quite a compliment considering half of the horrible ideas you came up with-…"

A crumpled ball of parchment hit him squarely on the chest. "Shut it." Celine said however there was still hint of a smile on her lips. "So the Secret Santa idea will work?"

Draco shrugged. "It seems the most doable. Given that most of the school will be going back to spend Christmas with their families, it wouldn't be half as interesting if we threw another party."

"'Formal'." Celine air-quoted. "The school board doesn't like us using that term, remember?"

This time Draco did roll his eyes. "Who are they trying to bluff? If there's music, booze and dancing, it's a party. Doesn't McGonagall make everyone write their names down if they're staying over break?"

Celine nodded. "Yeah."

"We have our list then. We can randomly assign students. They can buy their gifts and the prefects can distribute them on Christmas Day during the feast." Draco said.

"Sounds easy—"

Two quick clear tap-taps from the window interrupted Celine. A brown barn owl perched on the window sill with two familiar black scrolls with violet ribbons. Before she could move, Draco stood up to let the owl in with a lazy wave of his wand.

"One's for you." Draco handed it to her.

It was another one of Slughorn's 'invitation only' soiree. Celine watched as Draco tossed the unopened invitation on the floor joining the other discarded bits of parchment and rejected ideas.

"You're not going to the soiree?"

"Have I mentioned how keen your observatory skills are?" Draco asked.

Celine scowled. "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be civil every now and then. Professor McGonagall did say—"

"As I seem to recall you didn't always follow the rules either."

"The point is we're supposed to set aside old prejudices, you're not exactly a person I'd invite round to tea either, Draco."

She didn't know if it was a trick of the light but Celine could've sworn she saw a hint of a smile begin to appear on his features, whatever it was disappeared before she could confirm it. Draco stood up stretching his arms above his head. "Well I return the sentiments, Celine. Lucky thing I don't like tea."

"I don't understand him sometimes." Celine mumbled under her breath sensing the eyes from the two portraits above the fireplace watching her watch him leave the common room. "I try and it's like…what's the point?"

"You've got to have patience with that one." Salazar said when Draco was out of earshot. "You can tell. He needs his time to trust. We Slytherins pride in taking care of ourselves, you know."

Celine cocked her head. Taking her time walking to the fireplace she asked, "How long did it take you to admit to yourself that you needed Godric?"

The reactions from the two founders were ones she hadn't expected. First Godric's face turned a dark puce shade, golden eyebrows furrowed. Salazar on the other hand somehow appeared paler than usual, wizened eyes wide.

"Who told you?" Salazar finally asked. His voice a hoarse whisper that Celine barely heard over the crackling fire.
"Salazar. Don't. That's none of her business." Godric said. The stern expression still hadn't left his face. Instead he straightened his posture making him appear taller with just a lift of his chin.

"I-I don't mean…didn't…" Celine sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. It felt like she had accidently eaten a Ton-Tongue Toffee. "I didn't mean it to come out that way—"

"And what way was that?" Godric continued his expression not changing.

"Believe it or not Godric, times have changed since you last walked around England. We're more accepting now. You don't have to lie to yourselves anymore. It's pathetic is what it is." Celine felt an unexpected dam burst from within her, the pain she had stifled for so long.
What was Professor McGonagall thinking?
Celine needed Hermione by her side, who was she supposed to confide in?
Draco? These two?
"You know I would count myself lucky if I could live in a portrait beside Fred for the rest of eternity." Celine continued. Tears sprung in her eyes but she was too frustrated to wipe them away. "I'd kill for that chance."

The Time-Turner. Hermione was going to try locating it.
Would Professor McGonagall still have her old one?
Celine chewed on her bottom lip barely acknowledging the tears inching down her face.

"Celine…" Salazar began but she was already walking up the staircase to her room. She didn't even notice the shadows stirring from the other staircase.

When Celine found Hermione in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory she allowed herself to breathe. She didn't think her friend would be there but Hermione had been reading in bed, an anxious expression plastered over her features.

"About what I said the other day at dinner—"Celine said when she showed up unannounced. Stopping, she took a glance around to make sure there wasn't anyone else in the room. "Didn't you say you're rooming with Ginny? Where is she?"

"Probably going over Quidditch tactics with Peakes. And you really don't have to worry, I should've realized you would think about…Fred." Hermione hesitated before saying his name.

Celine shrugged, sitting at the foot of Hermione's bed. "Well do you want to talk about it?"

"I…" Hermione suddenly fell silent, a troubled look that Celine didn't recognize passed over Hermione's face. "I don't know where to begin honestly."

"You're thinking about Snape…is there…a reason?" Celine asked. Hermione started to twiddle with her fingers, thumbs pressed against the other. Her book laid abandoned opened to the page she had been reading.

"I've missed him."

Hermione's voice was a whisper and Celine waited a couple of seconds to make sure she'd heard right.

"You think there would be time…Harry said he was in the Shrieking Shack." Celine said. Hermione shrugged but her eyes were glassy.

"I don't know but we have to try…"

"And Professor McGonagall still has the Time-Turner?"

This time Hermione shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "No. I've asked. She returned it to the Ministry. I think she knows, she gave me a warning that you're not supposed to meddle with time." When she laughed, it sounded hallow to Celine's ears. "Not when it's to save someone."

"We did it in our third year!"

"And she's not Professor Dumbledore." Hermione said in a low voice a strained smile on her lips. "Besides I honestly don't know how we're going to go through with it without a Time-Turner. Even if we do have one it's going to be extremely dangerous—"

"When have we ever allowed that to stop us?" Celine interjected.

"-we could die Celine. Look here," Hermione laid the book between them so that she could point to a passage on the yellowed pages. "'Eloise Mintumble, an Unspeakable, had gone to the year 1402 in the year 1899 and was trapped there for five whole days. When Ministry officials managed to retrieve her, her body aged five centuries causing her to die in St. Mungo's. Her time-travelling also caused a phenomenon known as 'the unborn' where no less than twenty-five descendants disappeared from time, a consequence of meeting several relatives from her past. Another disturbance in time was also recorded following her reappearance to the present, the following Tuesday lasted two and a half days while Thursday went by in four hours.' It's impossible." Hermione sighed.

Celine pulled the book towards herself the fragile paper crackling beneath her fingertips. "There has to be a way," She murmured. "-we're not going to go back that far in time. A couple of months. We won't age that drastically and we know better than to talk to anyone from the past. We're better equipped than this Mintumble person."

"That doesn't solve the problem that we still don't have a Time-Turner." Hermione took the book back, closing it with a final thump.

Celine sighed as a dull throb pulsated at her temples. Her eyes were drawn to the window where she could see the treetops of the Forbidden Forest. "Did you get the invitation from Slughorn?" She pinched her nose.

Hermione started organizing her belongings on the bedside table. Celine noticed a set of tarnished scales sitting between two framed pictures of her friends and her parents. "I did. Are you attending?"

"Yes. I guess…I don't know. I'm worried about my father. I haven't heard from him since the dance."

"Any luck with the key?"

"The Baron won't talk to me and I haven't seen the Grey Lady anywhere."

"Have you thought about asking Luna?"

Celine looked up at Hermione. "Hermione, you're a genius!"

àß

Celine shifted in her seat trying not to crumple her teal lace skirt. They were seated in Slughorn's office that had been magicked to the size of a banquet hall. Her reflection gazed back at her from the gleaming silverware as the house elves hired for the occasion lifted trays laden with exquisite food. Tonight's affair was more intimate than the usual parties Slughorn had thrown. Instead of guests mixing and socializing freely, they were seated around a large dining table covered with an expensive tablecloth in rich purple that reminded Celine of Roman royalty. Seated around her were a smattering of faces she recognized from the student body as well as famous wizards and witches including Gwegnog Jones, Quidditch player for the Holyhead Harpies.

"A few more minutes and we'll begin with dinner, just waiting on a few more stragglers." Slughorn smiled, brushing his salt and pepper whiskers, his thick fingers toying with the golden chain of his timepiece.

Celine wasn't surprised to find Harry absent but to her disappointment so was a Hermione. Even Ginny had failed to turn up which foiled Celine's plans to make amends with her Quidditch captain while casually asking if Luna still had conversations with the Grey Lady.

"Celine sweetheart, have you had the chance of meeting young Mr. Wolfe?"

She'd been standing alone after the dessert had been served, pineapple sorbet with candied slices of orange, a crystal glass almost empty of aged mead in hand. This was part of the soiree when the by invitation only came into play, already Celine had noticed a few missing faces from the dinner's previous attendees. The dining table had been removed to make way for a raised platform and what could only be described as a swing hanging from the ceiling. She grabbed another glass of mead from a floating tray, replacing the one she previously held. If she was going to be forced into a conversation with Professor Slughorn while something happened on that raised platform where a gorgeous blonde woman in sheer clothing was climbing into the swing, Celine was going to need another drink. And experience has shown her that the Forget-Me-Not elixir worked faster when slightly inebriated.

"I actually have not, not formally anyway." Celine fixed a smile, extending her hand towards the younger man she vaguely recognized as a Quidditch player on the Slytherin team. Her eyes ran over his pale skin and lips that reminded her of the rose Fred had given her on Bill and Fleur's wedding day and immediately regretted the comparison as she felt a sharp twinge in her chest.

"Well, Mr. Wolfe here has been all Professor McGonagall has been able to talk about in the staff room. Hogwarts most talented Transfigurationist since McGonagall herself."

"Really Professor you are flatter me but, I don't think I could ever claim such a title. And it's just Edmund, please." He said while shaking Celine's hand. Beneath his dark hair she could see his blue -no, azure- eyes scrutinizing her.

"Well if Professor McGonagall is talking about you in the staff room I wouldn't take it lightly either." Celine said. His fingers had lingered a moment too long on the inside of her wrist and she refused to acknowledge the warm shiver that ran up her arm. Edmund smiled silently in response.

"Right you are Celine, who knows you might be looking at the future Headmaster of Hogwarts. Though you didn't hear it from me." Slughorn winked. "Have you seen Harry? He seems to have not accepted my recent invitations, I was hoping to see him tonight."

"I...was actually expecting him here tonight as well. Since Professor McGonagall moved Draco and I to the tower, I haven't really gotten to see him that often. Well except at Quidditch practice though that hardly counts."

"How are the new living arrangements? Quite a bold move on behalf of the school board, wouldn't you agree? Malfoy used to have the room opposite mine." Edmund added. Celine eyed him, tilting her head to the side a little as if considering the question. In truth, Celine and Draco hardly talk about other matters aside from prefect duties. She had not even ventured close to the staircase that led to his bedroom since that one day. Celine worked to keep her expression neutral.

"Unconventional, yes. But I understand their decision. Especially considering the...tension between our two houses. Professor McGonagall is certainly taking a leaf out of Professor Dumbledore's book in trying to create friendships between all the houses." Celine said, sipping on her mead.

"A good decision as any." Professor Slughorn announced, clapping Celine on the shoulder. Whatever Professor Slughorn said next was immediately dismissed as Celine's attention was brought to the lithe blonde that had seated herself on the swing displaying an alarming amount of cleavage.
"Aaahhh…the show's about to start. That's my mark." Professor Slughorn clapped his hands together before disappearing towards the performer.

"I think that's my cue as well…" Celine murmured, taking another sip of her drink.

Edmund raised his eyebrows. "You aren't staying for the entertainment?"

A flash. Pink nipples exposed.

"As much as I enjoy indulging my…dark side, I think this is a little too much for me." Celine said, placing her now empty glass on a passing floating tray. "It was nice meeting you, Edmund."

"I, you." He replied with a nod.

As she exited Professor Slughorn's office, Celine cast a look over her shoulder a strange feeling hugging the back of her neck.
Through the semi-darkness and crowd she saw azure eyes looking back at her.