Bring On the Night

Corvus sat in the Thestral-drawn carriage, and this time, perhaps the first time since he first arrived at Hogwarts, he let himself think about why he could see the Thestral. He remembered how disturbing it had been to see the life leave his grandmother's eyes. It was like something was simply, and cleanly, lifted out of her. Like a giant life-magnetic was turned on against her, and the life completely left her for it. Life just left her body, like its time with her meant nothing at all. And that had been frightening to see.

He would have said this was his worse memory. But apparently something happened before this. Something more terrible, but what was it? 'Sister, move away from your son. Let him live, he doesn't have to die today,' that had to have been Ascanius Stirling. It must have been the day when his mother fled England with him. But why was this memory so terrible for him? They had survived it, hadn't they?

An anxiety rippled through him, underneath his skin, thinking about that day. But it happened too long ago for him to really know what caused him to fear it. While he understood what scared him about witnessing his grandmother's death, he couldn't piece this memory together and therefore he couldn't understand it. It worried him that something he never knew about lurked in his unconscious for so long and it only took one second of being in the presence of a Dementor for him to fall victim to it.

The carriage rattled as it drove over a pothole. This shook Corvus out of his trance. Max had been speaking, "…I figure it's only good as a temporary storage place, but Jeremy would never think of it being there."

Corvus didn't want to alert anyone to his private turmoil. All of the other Salesmen looked healthy again since the Dementor, it was only Corvus who looked ghostly pale and miserable. His skin still felt clammy and his arms and legs felt like dead, flimsy weight, but he fought against letting anyone know how he felt. His mother always said that everything was fifty-percent showmanship. So while he had no idea what Max had said, he wasn't going to ask his friend to repeat himself that would make them suspicious. Corvus never missed a thing about the Salesmen.

Louis made an uncomfortable face, "I don't know. A girl's bathroom? Not exactly the most private of places."

"You can ask any girl in the entire school," said Max, calmly, "they'll tell you no one uses that bathroom."

"What if our stuff gets ruined in one of Myrtle's crying fits?" asked Anwar.

Max seemed to be happy someone asked that question. He pulled out a glossy page from a magazine and showed it them. It was an advertisement for a magical-protective blanket. The blanket was a bright orange, reminding Corvus of the reflective, orange vests road workers wear to remain visible to incoming traffic. "I used my earnings from last year to buy it," he explained. "It protects against everything. Rain, snow, dragon breath, molten lava, erosive poison, quite a few Dark curses, too."

"So we'll tuck our goods in every night with this?" assumed Corvus. It was easy to appear on top of things. Max nodded, though his stare remained annoyingly weary of Corvus. Why couldn't he just drop it? Corvus said he was okay a million times already. "And we can use the lock from the outhouse to secure one of the stalls."

"What if someone gets into the outhouse then?" asked Louis.

"I can write Borgin to ask him if he has another one," replied Corvus. The lock they used on the outhouse was a magical lock that made the entire outhouse off limits to those without a key. When they use it on the bathroom stall, it will protect against any nosey girls who might think about climbing in from above or slipping in under the wall. Corvus had bought the lock at Borgin and Burkes in the summer before his second year.

"Maybe your mother could get you one," suggested Max. "You said Borgin claimed he bought it from a crafter. The Stirling Tower could have a few like them lying around then."

"I'll write her about it."

"Anyway, I imagine Myrtle's bathroom can only be temporary," said Max, smirking sheepishly, "She's rather annoying."

The carriage trundled up towards the castle's magnificent wrought-iron gates flanked with stone columns topped with winged boars. Corvus saw two more Dementors standing guard on either side of the gates. He felt a wave of the same cold sickness from before, but he resisted it. Max was giving him a sideways glance until they passed through the gates. Louis leaned out of the tiny window, to watch the castle draw nearer.

"Oh, look Corvus, it's your god-brother, faithfully awaiting you," he grinned back at Corvus. "Do you think this is the beginning of a beautiful obsession?"

Corvus rolled his eyes while Anwar and him snickered. "You're the one who invited him to haze first years with us," reminded Corvus.

Louis frowned disappointedly, "Which we never got around to doing…"

The carriage swayed to a stop, Louis was the first to jump out, interested to hear what Malfoy had for them. Anwar got out after him.

"I was thinking we'd use Myrtle's bathroom for our sessions too," said Max once the other two had gotten out. "Or do you think you could ask the new professor for his classroom? He seems to like you."

"He only knows me through my mother," said Corvus sharply. "And like you pointed out, he's no Lockhart. He's not stupid, he'll ask questions."

"True, just thought I'd ask." He gestured for Corvus to leave the carriage first.

"Always the gentlemen, Love," sneered Corvus as he pulled himself out of the carriage. Max folded up the magazine page and slipped it into his pocket. As Corvus stepped down, he worried his knees might give out, they were wobbly and he had to grab onto the carriage for support while he found balance. Of course Max had seen this, much to Corvus' annoyance.

"I'm not going to say anything," Max told him as he effortlessly touched ground.

"Potter fainted," Malfoy rushed over to tell them immediately. His other friends must have left him for the Great Hall, because the only people stupid enough to linger with him were Crabbe and Goyle. "Potter actually fainted!"

"Why?" asked Corvus, disdainfully, though he was actually curious about it.

"The Dementors scared him," he said delightedly. "Longbottom was telling all the other Gryffindors about it, I mean Longbottom didn't even faint! Can you imagine how much of a scaredy cat Potter's got to be to fall to pieces quicker than Longbottom?"

"That is pathetic," said Corvus deadpanned. He continued up the stone steps to the castle. The other Salesmen exchanged knowing looks before passing by Malfoy as well to the castle. Corvus refused to believe what happened to him was anything like what happened to Potter. He hadn't fainted, he shook about for a second then snapped out of it, there had been no full unconsciousness. Still, it was silently agreed that nobody outside of the Salesmen hears about what happened to Corvus. Let Potter stand alone on this one.

X
X

The amount of people who openly stared at him was quite overwhelming. Corvus knew what it was like to be known within Hogwarts, as arrogantly as that might seem, he knew he wasn't another nameless face in the crowd. Naturally he had worked to prevent that and to establish a name for himself, but this attention wasn't intentional. It was out of his hands.

People were afraid of him. They thought he was dangerous. A lot of the girls stared at him, scared and extremely watchful of him. The boys sort of shifted their weight about, as if they were preparing for some kind of attack from him. Even the teachers looked worried seeing him for who he really was, the possible son of Sirius Black.

"He even looks like him," some girl hissed into her friend's ear. Corvus shot her a dark warning glare. The girl blushed deeply and shrank in her seat. Her whispers weren't the only ones fluttering around. He heard the name Sirius hissed in every direction, paired with wide staring eyes.

It was difficult to really enjoy the Sorting because of this. And Corvus actually really liked watching the Sorting. It was a fun tradition. But people were annoyingly fussing about him. Flint and the others from the Quidditch team were sitting with them, and they shamelessly asked questions about his mother's trial, about what he knew of Sirius Black and what mysteries existed behind the doors of the Stirling Tower. Corvus supposed this vocalization of curiosity was better than the stares.

"No the Tower wasn't run by Inferi while my mum was in hiding," snapped Corvus at Warrington. He apparently read that in the Quibbler, but Corvus was pretty sure he had come up with the crackpot theory.

Professor Sprout was running the Sorting Hat ceremony. Corvus wondered where McGonagall was, but when he asked the question to the Slytherins around him, no one else cared to wager even a guess. They were too busy with their own questions.

"Do you inherit all of the Black fortune, since Sirius Black is on the run?"

"Wasn't he disowned anyway?"

Corvus tried to listen over their voices. Sprout shouted out, "Greengrass, Astoria!"

"That could have been a staged thing, right? Since he needed to seem believable if he was going to spy for You-Know-Who."

"SLYTHERIN!" Corvus clapped for the small girl with chestnut brown hair as she quickly hurried to the Slytherin table with them. The first-year excitedly took the seat next to a girl from the year below Corvus.

"Hello," a familiar voice greeted. Corvus braced himself and looked up. Standing there was Jeremy Petzold, wearing perhaps his best robes. His limp bowl-cut hair was still lifelessly placed on top of his long, boney face. His thin lips were turned upward in a pleasant, small smile. His hands were folded in front of him. He looked very proper and very annoying.

Everyone at the table went quiet, though plenty of the guys were choking back cruel chuckles. Only Max acted like Jeremy didn't exist.

"Go away, you're blocking the view," ordered Anwar tapping his wand against his empty glass. He didn't look kind at Jeremy's impromptu visit.

Jeremy cleared his throat. "Hem, Black, I was wondering if you received my letter. I sent it a few weeks before the term. I'm sure you were busy during that time, so I wasn't too worry about not getting a reply, but I did wonder if you even got it."

"I did," Corvus crossed his arms.

"Oh," Jeremy said, something got caught in his throat again and he cleared it. "Hem, t-that is good to hear."

"It actually came in handy," smirked Corvus. "Right after reading the thing, I had to use the toilet, but we were all out of paper. But your absurdly long-winded letter saved the day, thank you."

Corvus patiently watched Jeremy's face turn bright red with humiliation and he finally turned away, hurrying off to lick his wounds probably.

"Come on! Don't get your dough in a twist, Pretzel!" Louis shouted after him. The guys burst out laughing. It seemed that the Jeremy interlude help change the track of conversation, as the guys started to reminiscent about the wild rumors surrounding Jeremy, rumors the Salesmen had so masterfully weaved.

X
X

After the opening feast, Max suggested the Salesmen go to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Louis was still resistant to the idea. "If my sisters find out I'm spending my spare time with Moaning Myrtle, I'll never hear the end of it," he told them.

"Then don't tell them," Anwar recommended the easiest solution.

"Anwar, please, you don't know how it is to have four sisters. They always find out. I don't know how, but they do." Max gave a half-smirk and opened the girls' bathroom door. They entered the bathroom, with Louis stepping in last, cringing.

It was definitely a bathroom no one visited much. There was a large, cracked and spotted mirror over a row of chipped stone sinks. The floor was damp with old water. The puddles reflected the dull light given off by stubs of a few candles. The wooden doors to the cubicles were flaking and scratched. One of them was dangling off its hinges. There were several large, dirty windows at the other end.

"Good, the owl's can deliver our mail," said Corvus. He wasn't sure how it happens, but an owl will always deliver to where the wizard wants it. For example the Salesmen didn't want a slew of requests delivered at their feet in front of everyone in the Great Hall. So the owls sent all letters addressed to Sal's Guys to the outhouse. Again, Corvus didn't know how the owls knew where to deliver things, but they do. And it works in their favor. He pointed to the windows; "We'll keep one open at all times."

"Oh yes, do whatever you like," a whiny voice echoed from within the pipes a sink. Moaning Myrtle drifted up, her magnified eyes tearing up bitterly, looking sky ward in complete despair. "No body cares about how cold and lonely it gets in here. No, no, just do whatever, who cares what I think…"

"Urgh, she's uglier than I remembered," Louis hissed as he tried to hide his face. Corvus had only seen Myrtle once. Peeves had been chasing her through the corridor one evening Corvus's first year. If she were still alive, Corvus would've pegged her as the only type of girl Jeremy could've gotten with.

Myrtle sighed deeply, and her eyes consciously darted downward, on her audience. She snapped out of her act when she spotted Max. "It's you. I remember you."

"Hello, Myrtle," greeted Max, rather tiredly. In their first year Max had gotten in a fight with Roger Davies in this bathroom. Davies, always too smart for his own good, wanted to catch Max as a Salesman. But Davies was quite conspicuous, and it was easy for Max to set up a trap. Really the whole affair was meant to teach Davies perhaps one of the most valuable lessons of his life. And Ravenclaws always loved to learn things, right?

Myrtle's white face became slightly less see-through. She was blushing. "Are these your friends?"

"Yeah, these are my friends," Max waved his arm lazily. "We were wondering if we could keep a few things in here? For safe-keeping."

"For the Salesmen?" Myrtle asked slyly.

"You know about the Salesmen? Blimey, even the ghosts know about them," Louis grinned, impressed. He dropped his hands from in front of his face.

While seeing Max again had made her blush, seeing Louis nearly made Myrtle materialize into a real-life blushing girl. Her expression resembled a beached fish, dumb and gawking. She's probably never seen such a good-looking boy in her bathroom. Corvus and Anwar started laughing.

"We're not the Salesmen," Max told Myrtle, smirking. "But we need some things kept safe and we'd really appreciate it if you helped us out. Right, Louis?"

"It's temporary, right?" he said out the corner of his lips to Max, who nodded. Louis sighed inwardly and looked up at his floating, ghostly admirer. He smiled brilliantly, a smile that could put Lockhart to shame, "Yes, please help us."

She was turning a thicker and thicker silvery white. Myrtle gulped, and opened her mouth to speak. But all that came out were bubbling giggles.

"Myrtle," said Louis silkily, "it would be really lovely if you'd help us. Please, Myrtle?"

Her eyes went so wide Corvus thought they might pop. "Okay!" she squealed finally and dove headfirst back into the sink.

Louis's smile was gone in the blink of an eye. "She only haunts this bathroom, right?" he glared at Max and the others. "Because I don't want to be taking a shower with her coming for a peep show."

"If that happens, remember, don't drop the soap," leered Anwar. This reduced them all to laughter, even Louis.

X
X

First night back, Anwar had a meeting with the Gobstones team and Flint wanted to talk to everyone on the Quidditch team about some new strategies. This conveniently left Corvus and Max to stock up Myrtle's bathroom with the Salesmen's things and to retrieve the lock from the outhouse. Afterwards they would practice Animagi; hopefully Myrtle was still reeling from her encounter with Louis and wouldn't be there to bother them.

The Salesmen usually only used the outhouse passage at the ungodly hours before sunrise. There's less foot traffic in Hogwarts and Hogsmeade then. Teachers were either sleeping or just waking up to prepare their classes, students were surely passed out, and Filch was dozing off in his cramped office. Corvus had a theory that Filch only allowed himself to sleep three hours a day.

But that night Corvus and Max figured they'd immediately go about switching safe houses. Corvus took out the little bronze key to the lock and took it off the flimsy, wooden door of the outhouse. "This wasn't really a two man job," Corvus smirked at Max, who had been insistent that they both go.

"I figured it'd be safer this way," he shrugged. Corvus didn't like how he wasn't looking him in the eye. "Well there's Dementors out there, right?"

Corvus suddenly felt resentful towards his friend. Didn't Max trust Corvus to get this simple task done? Didn't Max trust Corvus to keep his wits about himself? Hadn't Corvus proven to him and all the Salesmen that he could manage anything? He didn't need a babysitter. What happened with the Dementors caught him off guard and he wouldn't allow it a second time.

Corvus gave Max a final glare and pushed past him in the small outhouse to the toilet-hatch back into Hogwarts.

X
X

"I didn't mean anything by it," Max told him when they were wrapping their hatbox with the magical blanket. They were already in Myrtle's bathroom again. It was ten minutes before curfew. "It's important all of us take precaution every time we sneak into Hogsmeade now."

"We always take precautions, you know that," Corvus told him sharply. "Besides, what makes you think you could be useful against a Dementor? Rather bigheaded of you to think you could somehow matter in a situation like that."

Max's eyes darkened, but he tried not to allow the slight affect him. He probably told himself that Corvus was only upset, and he was lashing out anyway he could. "Two people are better than one."

"All I would've done was retrieve a rusty, old lock!" he retorted. He took the wrapped hatbox and stuffed it in the toilet bowl, shutting the lid. "I'd hardly be in Hogsmeade long enough for a Dementor to even sniff me out, Max. Or did you think I'd fall apart with a Dementor three miles away?"

"Oh lay off it, Corvus, that's not what I meant. It would have been dangerous for any of us to go alone. And it's not just Dementors out there you need to think about, there's Sirius Bla-"

The door to the bathroom swung open. Max pivoted and quickly slammed their bathroom stall door shut. He latched the padlock onto the door, locking it. Two voices started to laugh.

"Oh, Love! Lovey Wovey. Where are you?" Fred Weasely (or George, Corvus couldn't tell the difference) sang. "We know you're in here. In fact we know exactly where you are."

"Yeah, call it our… Marauder sense of smell." Corvus frowned, Marauder sense? What the hell are the Weasley twins going on about?

One of the twins tried to open the stall.

"Alohomora!"

Nothing happened. They still couldn't open the door.

"Fancy, Love, very fancy," he sneered. Max pushed Corvus to get on top of the toilet. Even if he didn't understand yet why, Corvus jumped up.

"Flagrate," Max whispered. He drew in the air with his wand a message for Corvus; 'Don't know you here. Stay. I go. You sneak out.'

"You're just prolonging this for yourself, Lovey Dovey."

Max's eyes glanced darkly at the door. He twirled his wand and muttered, "Finite." The fiery red writing disappeared. He then got on the floor, crawling out under the wall into the next stall.

"Over here," Corvus could hear Max say tonelessly, calling the Weasley twins over.

There was a series of loud bangs and flashes of color. One of the Weasley twins shrieked and someone was thrown across the floor. Corvus heard hurried footsteps. There was a chase. Whoever was on the floor must have been a Weasley, because Corvus heard him curse as he scrambled to his feet. He followed after his twin and Max.

The door fell shut after them, leaving Corvus surrounded by a ringing silence.

Marauder sense of smell, the obscure phrase stuck with him.

He wondered how the Weasley twins could've missed him? If they had followed them into the bathroom, they would have seen Corvus too.

"Is this what's so important?" Myrtle rose from the toilet, passing up through Corvus who was still standing on top of the seat.

"What the hell is your problem?" he shouted at her, whilst shaking off the Goosebumps that had traveled up along his spine and arms at her passing. She listlessly turned in the air before coming to rest before him. She gave him a cold look.

"You're very rude."

"When you were alive, did a ghost ever walk through you?" he asked her slowly.

"No," her face softened. Was Corvus taking an interest in her? Was someone seeing her, and not through her?

"Then you have no idea how gross it is," he told her bluntly and jumped down from the toilet.

Myrtle gave a prissy huff and flew away.

Corvus unlocked the door and took the lock with him to bolt the door again, but from the outside. He put the key in his pocket, with his silver pocket watch. His hand lingered for a brief moment against his watch. Then he went to the door.

There were no sounds coming from outside. Corvus trusted Max to handle himself, even in a fight against the Weasley Twins. They'd probably be caught, but detention always rolled off a Salesman's shoulder. Corvus slipped out from Myrtle's bathroom. The corridor was empty. He hurried towards the downstairs, but as he got to the top of them, he nearly collided into someone.

A seventh-year girl with long, curly hair had been slowly walking up the stairs while reading a worn-looking book. She had been so absorbed in her reading that if Corvus hadn't given a startled gasp at nearly hitting her, she wouldn't have noticed anything. Her eyes blinked and focused on Corvus quickly.

Corvus noticed the Prefect badge on her robe. Dammit.

"Oh, Corvus Black," she said, surprised. Her light brown eyes looked Corvus over, not critically, not like she was calculating how many points she would take off for him, but like she was happy to have run into him. "I heard your mother's reopened the Tower."

Corvus didn't reply. He wasn't sure if a reply was even necessary.

"Do you know, by chance, if she's interviewing people for apprenticeships?" she asked nicely.

"Huh, no, I don't think she is," he told her, cautious that he might fall into some trap. "She's just hired a few crafters, she's been interviewing those since reopening."

"Is she planning on taking in any apprentices?"

He could only shrug, "Maybe?"

"Well maybe's better than no, right?" she smiled. "All I dreamt about when I was a little girl was being inside the Stirling Tower. My grandfather worked there, but no one's been a crafter in my family since. Obviously I plan on changing that."

"Oh, right. I could ask her about it," offered Corvus, realizing what this was all about.

She beamed at him, gratefully. "Oh could you? I'd understand if she needs more time before she even thinks about a candidate, but, you know, the sooner I hear even an inkling about what she's looking for, the better my chances are to meeting those expectations."

"Sure, I understand," smirked Corvus. "I'll send my mum a letter tomorrow."

"Brilliant," she said. She moved aside for him to past. "If Filch bothers you on your way back, just tell him I held you up."

"Oh, you don't have to do that."

"It's no big deal, I mean it's only a few minutes past curfew," she dismissed the topic with a wave of her hand.

"Thank you," he told her. "Good night…"

"Penelope, Penelope Clearwater," she closed her book and held her hand out. Corvus took it, smirking widely. At that moment, despite how he missed his uncomplicated life as Blackstone, Corvus couldn't help but appreciate the benefits of being Leandra Black's son.

X
X

Max wasn't in the dorm when Corvus finally returned. Louis was fast asleep on his stomach, the side of his face flattened on his pillow. Propped up by several pillows, which he might have stolen from others, Anwar was reading a book, Great Gobstones! Jeremy was curled up in bed, his back turned to Corvus at the door.

"Where's Max?" Anwar asked. Corvus's eyes looked to Jeremy. "He's asleep."

"You sure?"

Anwar shrugged. "He's been still for the past thirty minutes. So he's either really good at faking it or he's sleeping. Or he's dead," he added.

They exchanged wicked smirks.

"But since he's not smelling worse than usual," he continued, "I'd rule out the dead part."

"Shame." Corvus sat down. Returning to his bed never felt this wonderful. His hands weren't cold and clammy anymore. He lay back, staring up at the ceiling. "Max's either wrestling the Weasley twins off or he's getting detention," he told Anwar.

"They found you guys then?"

"They only found Max, they didn't know I was there," Corvus said. "It was weird, it was like they knew where to find him."

"The twins are usually weird."

"True."

X
X

An hour and a half later, Max still hadn't come back. But this wasn't why Corvus couldn't sleep. Max could handle himself, even against the twins and Corvus knew the twins would never really harm anyone, not even a Slytherin. Corvus couldn't sleep for completely different reasons.

Anwar's heavy breathing counted time as he lay there, with Sirius's letter.

… I won't force you into anything, but just remember me, okay? Merlin knows, I won't ever forget you…
I love you and Corvus very much… next time bring Corvus…
Love, Sirius.

"He's not coming after me," he whispered aloud, to shut his mind up for the night.

O..o

o..O

Thanks for the reviews! Chapters are getting longer, as you might've noticed. Next chapter is about Corvus's first day of classes.