Rowan Watkins was under pressure.
With the weight of so many tests, two rolls of parchment for Charms, her detention with McGonagall Friday night and the Howler from her mother she'd received earlier that morning for not remembering to write, she was feeling very stressed out indeed. With her thoughts so jumbled she barely realized where her feet were taking her, and before long she was walking down the stairs from the girl's dormitories, where she ran straight into Sirius, who stood at the bottom. He had his back to her and was laughing with James, but after Rowan smacked right into him and fell backwards on the stone steps, he turned and began to laugh even harder.
"Rowan!" He cried, offering her of his strong hands. She took it and he pulled her up, trapping her in a hug as she stood upright. "If I could find a way to get up those stairs I would. We swore you'd gone to bed already." Rowan raised a brow.
"Don't you have better things to do than stalk my dormitory?" She teased. Sirius pulled her closer, chortling.
"Ah, well…sometimes James and I get a little bored." He looked at Rowan for a moment, then moved in closer, inhaling deeply. "What perfume are you wearing?" He asked suddenly, still inhaling. "It smells wonderful."
"It's a new scent they call shampoo." Rowan said, darting under his arms and heading towards James, who was now standing by the portrait hole. Sirius shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes and strolled towards them, smelling the air. "No really, its amazing…" James rolled his eyes.
"If It really matters that much I'll have Lily steal the bottle next time she's up there, Padfoot." He said, grabbing Rowan by the arm. "We've got business to take care of, and we need you in taking care of it."
Rowan glanced over her shoulder at Sirius as James led her towards the portrait hole, waiting for any sign of objection. Rowan thought that the sight of James making off with his girlfriend would at least annoy Sirius a little, but she was wrong. Instead, he followed, opening the portrait hole for James and Rowan to exit. Rowan looked questioningly at James, who misinterpreted the look and let go of her arm rather hastily. "Don't want Lily to see me doing that." He muttered, blushing slightly.
The corridors were dimly lit, the torches flickering with each step the three took as they rushed down them. Despite the hundreds of torches that lit the corridors, they were not warm--on the contrary, they were freezing, hardly warmer than the air outside. Rowan shivered, cursing herself for not wearing warmer clothes. Seven years at Hogwarts evidently had never taught her that stone walls had no heat retention what so ever.
"What're we up to this time?" Rowan asked, rubbing her arms furiously in a vain attempt to warm them. James peered down the corridor, straightening his glasses, which were in danger of slipping straight off his long nose. "Just a bit farther…" He muttered to himself, completely ignoring Rowan's question. Behind her, Sirius gave an apologetic smile, shrugging. Rowan scowled.
After nearly ten minutes of walking, the three reached Filch's office. A single lantern swung from a long black chain dangerously close to the floor, flickering and barely illuminating the small wooden door it was supposed to be lighting. James put a finger to his lips and pushed Rowan roughly into a side closet, Sirius close behind.
"What?!" Rowan cried, squeezing her arms to her chest as Sirius moved inside and shut the door. Something prickly brushed against Rowan's neck and she jumped, only to realize it was a long, thin Nimbus suspended from the ceiling
"Why are we in a broom closet?" She asked, narrowing her eyes to get a better view. She was barely able to make out Sirius and James in the dark. They appeared before her eyes as two large, half black shapes, eerily illuminated from the light pouring in from under the door. "If you're in the mood for some sick threesome, I'm out of here." And she made for the door.
"No, no." James laughed, seizing her wrist. "Nothing like that. Wait just a moment, I'll tell you the plan." He gestured for Sirius to come closer and he obeyed, his onyx eyes glittering mysteriously in the dim light, casting an eerie glow over his haughty features.
"Right," James said, checking behind him to make sure everything was clear even though they were locked in a broom closet. He looked a little nervous, the way his eyes kept flicking towards the door at the smallest noises and Rowan's face, but also quite excited. "Dumbledore has planned something, and someone told me that there's details about it in old Filchie's office." He breathed, looking over his shoulder again as footsteps echoed down the corridor. James waited for them to pass then began again, sighing deeply after holding his breath for thirty seconds. Sirius shifted towards Rowan.
"We've got a plan." James said, taking from his robe pocket a violently orange box with a picture of a large, ribbon-like object zooming overhead a shrieking witch, who had her arms over her head. "This is a very large box of Whizzing Worms we picked up last Zonko's visit." Sirius nodded, his fathomless eyes dancing in the little light.
"And they're sure to distract Filch for awhile, he hates them to death."
"Right you are, Padfoot," James carried on. "While we release the worms and wait for ole' Filchie to wheeze along, you nip inside his office and search every inch of it for that information. He probably won't even realize that it's gone, musty old bat. Peter's got Mrs. Norris locked away in a broom closet near the kitchens and is watching out for anyone passing by until we get that info. Lupin is standing guard not too far from here, you'll hear a bang if he sees Filch anywhere near this Corridor. We're going to go upstairs now, unleash these worms and give you plenty of room to do the job--any questions?"
Rowan could feel them both staring at her, waiting for an answer. She blinked.
"Er…"She began, her eyes finding Sirus's, "Seems like you've got this pretty well planned out…and I really have no choice." Sirius let out his bark like laugh, though he was quickly silenced by a sharp glare from James, who turned and smiled warmly at Rowan.
"Of course you've got a choice mate…we'd just really prefer it if you'd agree to this, as we've kind of already set it up." Rowan shrugged, laughing in spite of her annoyance.
"Alright Prongs," She said warmly. "Count me in." James gave a small whoop and gave Rowan a swift hug, thumping her on the back like a brother. "I knew we could count on you." He whispered as he pulled away. "Be careful now…and make sure you bring this back." And he handed Rowan the little lantern he'd been carrying. With a quick wink to Rowan, James opened the door, peeked his head into the hall, then, deciding it was safe, motioned to Sirius. The two slipped out and headed down the corridor. Rowan waited until their footsteps had died away, then snuck towards the office door.
Using the mini lantern to guide her, Rowan knelt beside the doorknob, pausing for any signs of Filch. Her fingers fumbled around her bun for a moment before finding a tiny, silver pin, which she inserted into the keyhole and began to pick the lock. Lily had always laughed when Rowan mentioned this skill, deeming it pointless when you could simply use Alohomora, but there were times when magic just wasn't going to cut it…and this was certainly one of them. A spell might be much too loud and send Filch or some other unwanted guest prowling down the hall to find the source of the noise. Rowan gave the pin a final little push and with one sweaty hand turned the knob. The door swung open with a tiny click and she was in.
Not long into her search of Filch's office Rowan heard a loud scream and paused, snickering as a the ceiling shook with the thudding footsteps of many students on the move. What chaos Sirius and James must be causing… Rowan turned back to her work.
"Where to look, where to look," She muttered, her fingers clumsy with cold despite the warm glow of her lantern. She sorted quickly through a stack of papers on Filch's desk, but just as she got them back in near perfect order, taking great care to position them just so, her hand upset a spell book to the right. Rowan swore loudly as she realized the book was attached to many more underneath it, and her haste had caused them to slide, one over the other, to the floor in a loud, messy heap.
Rowan quickly snatched the tiny lantern from the desk. Holding it high over the books so she could see properly, she bent to pick them up, realizing with a jolt they were books only found in the restricted section of the library. Curious, Rowan set the lantern on the edge of the desk and picked up a thick book that resembled the one Snape had been reading by the Lake. The title was written in wide, loopy emerald script, and Rowan had to tilt it in the warm glow of the lantern to read the shiny title--Secrets of the Dark Arts. Glancing over her shoulder Rowan sunk down against the desk, opening the book to a random page and smoothing it's worn yellowed pages. She squinted at the drawing on the page and lifted the book up to the light, dropping it in horror when she saw what it contained. The book slid down the little pile of banned books and landed, it's pages splayed and folded, onto the floor. Rowan shook her head, trying to clear it of the image floating around inside it, the horrible picture drawn in thick black ink. She knelt down and picked up the book, flinching a little as her eyes came in contact of the image again-a large, fanged Thestral and Dementor posed together in a grisly sort of death-worshipping image. Shuddering, Rowan slammed the book shut and hastily stacked the spell books back on top of the other, not bothering to put them in their exact places. She wanted to have as little contact with those horrible books as possible.
The people upstairs were still screaming…obviously Filch hadn't made it upstairs yet and cursed the whole lot of them. Rowan picked up the lantern and swung it around the room, swinging it back to a tall, gleaming thing that caught the light. There, tightly packed in a corner, was a large silver file cabinet that stretched all the way to the office ceiling. Rowan crept towards it, glancing over her shoulder, then pulled open the first drawer she found. She jumped back as the drawer zoomed out to the opposite wall and then peered inside. The files were neatly stacked and filed, in great contrast to everything else in the office, which was shoved together and jumbled. Filch must have taken particular care with the cabinets, for they were spotless and perfectly labeled in neat, golden writing. After scanning the names Rowan began to realize they were those of Hogwart's resident rule breakers. Rowan smiled to herself, thinking of Sirius. He probably had an entire section with James.
Rowan pushed the drawer back to the other side of the room and slid it into the cabinet, locking it safely with her wand. Turning, she caught movement on the other side of the room and jumped, raising her lantern. However, it was only her shadow and thankfully not a wheezing Filch. Rowan gave a shaky laugh of relief and began to scan Filch's desk again, sorting quickly and making sure to place everything back it the right order this time around. The cuckoo clock on the wall behind her ticked painfully slow, and the stuffy, windowless room was almost suffocating. Rowan tugged at the neck of her robes, itching to slide them off, but she didn't dare. Instead, she began to rifle through a small purple box of important looking cream parchment. All of the words are printed in official looking emerald ink and baring official looking crests on crisp parchment and at long last, Rowan found it. With a little jolt of pleasure she pulled a small piece of parchment from the pile, thin, slanted purple writing that could only be the Headmaster's skating across it in urgent hand. Sinking into the rickety wooden chair behind Filch's desk, Rowan smoothed out the parchment and began to read.
Argus,
It's late, but I'm writing to you and the entire staff about my plans for a mandatory Dueling Club at Hogwarts. I've spoken with the Ministry on this matter, of course, and they couldn't have agreed with me more when I came to them with the idea. If possible, I would like for you to have ready by no later than Monday a set of equipment (you know the kind) and a letter to the Auror office, asking what time would be most suitable for classes.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore