A/N: Hi, beautiful people! How are you today? Thank you for all the lovely comments on my previous chapter. I hope you like today's chapter as well. Also, I'm planning on buying a drawing tablet this year and start making a visual novel of this story and maybe post it on Webtoon. What do you think? Is it a good idea? Let me know! Any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.
Chapter Fourteen - Running With Wolves
Faith, it's easier said than done
When it's so hard to trust anyone
Maybe it's just a place inside that you can hide
Wait, I can see you slipping away
Just stay with me*
The castle is in an uproar. The Halloween party is unavoidably shut after the werewolf outbreak and, despite of all the complaints, the professors irrevocably send everyone to their common rooms. Penny returns to hers with Tonks' arm around her shoulders, looking utterly distressed. Memories of her telling me about her friend that was killed by a werewolf fills my heart with pain. Rowan smuggles some tarts, because priorities, and, despite her concerns, she stuffs tart after tart in her mouth, almost as if she's trying to suffocate her feelings.
I find a place inside Talbott's arms, who's rested against the bookshelf in the crowded common room. Tulip, still pumpkin headed, is telling James and Sebastian about what happened. Andre is holding his Quidditch bat, trembling with the idea of facing a werewolf.
"That was scary," I tell Talbott, who's caressing my hair.
"I know," he says. "But you dealt with that like a warrior. That part when you said 'yeah, right', extremely sarcastic, well… it was kind of hot."
And he proceeds to blush furiously after saying it. I giggle, resting my head against his chest. His hearts drums pacifically, making my eyes close and my whole body feel relaxed. Though everyone is in panic and the howls in the distance add to the distress, in Talbott's embrace everything else goes away.
"You should get some sleep, Bubo," he mumbles in my hair. "And please, be careful when you walk to detention tomorrow."
I lift my head and smirk. "You're probably right. I just hope we don't have nightmares about what just happened."
He kisses me gently. "I won't. I shall definitely dream of you tonight, kitten."
I laugh. "And you shall haunt my dreams, oh Count Dracula."
He flashes me a white smile of sharp fangs. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
He walks me downstairs, to my dormitory door and kisses the corner of my lips. "Goodnight, my angel."
I smile at him before entering my dorm. My heart beats heavily as I put on my pyjamas, part due to Talbott's irresistibility and part due to the werewolves that almost attacked us. I crawl into bed, wondering if some of them have been found. Behind my closed lids, I see only the unconscious girl, wondering who she is and how did she get into that situation.
Rowan returns to our dorm before I fall asleep, just in time for me to hear her burp loudly and complain that she shouldn't have eaten so much. I muffle a giggle in my pillow and turn to the side, thinking of how things are going to be from now on.
Are we even prepared?
I don't know.
Dumbledore's solution comes after lunch on Tuesday, in the form of a tall, moustachioed man. Barnaby seems to be really distressed to see him, trying to hide behind Bill when lunch is over.
"What's the matter?" Bill asks, curious.
"Hmm… that's… hmm… he's my uncle," Barnaby says.
I raise my brows. "Your uncle? What is he doing here?"
"He's… hmm… part of the Werewolf Capture Unit," he explains.
"But that's good, isn't it?" Rowan asks. "It means there's finally a qualified specialist to deal with this castle's issues, right? Right?"
"Hmm…" Barnaby grimaces. "Well… he's a little… hmm… whimsical… I guess."
"Whimsical?" Tonks repeats. "As in he likes to ride unicorns towards rainbow bridges?"
"Whimsical as in he's really into Irish dancing?" Tulip asks.
Barnaby grins, embarrassed. "Maybe whimsical isn't the correct word. He's kinda… well, he's very weird. You'll see."
We watch Barnaby rush to his Transfiguration class, as swift as a hare, probably trying to escape any odd family conversation. Near the Great Hall's entrance, Barnaby's uncle is talking to Dumbledore. His uniform is violet and there's a symbol of a wolf's paw embroidered on his arm. His coconut hat is of the same violet shade, but the symbol in the front bears the silhouette of a wolf howling. He doesn't look particularly strange or whimsical. In fact, when compared to Dumbledore, who's wearing long yellow and orange checkered robes, Barnaby's uncle doesn't look weird at all.
I follow Rowan, Tulip, Tonks and Penny to the Greenhouses, where Professor Sprout is waiting for us with many vases of beautiful green leaves and small bell-shaped purple flowers. Tonks' first instinct is to poke the flowers mercilessly with the tip of her wand, but the professor readily throws a glove at her hear, making her stop instantly.
"Today we will be studying Belladonna," Professor Sprout says. "They are not fertile yet, so we are going to take care of them through the course of the following weeks, in order to collect the seeds properly. Now, who can tell me what can this plant be used for?"
I raise my hand. "Mainly as a sedative, but it can also be used to cure colds, treat fevers, ease asthma, control nerve problems and relieve inflammations."
"Very good, Miss Lockhart," she says. "Five points to Ravenclaw."
I smile, thinking of the many times I have used Belladonna seeds during my lessons with Professor Snape. I miss those lessons and it makes me resent Rakepick even more. Hadn't she come to the castle, I'd still be working towards becoming an Alchemist.
We spend the lesson learning everything about Belladonna. Professor Sprout tells us about a few books on the subject, that will be paramount in our O. studies, and Rowan takes note quickly.
As we leave the Greenhouse, a violet figure seems to be waiting for us, standing under the sunshine. He smiles softly at me and Rowan looks at me, intrigued.
"Good morning!" the man says. "You must be Athena Lockhart."
I nod.
"I'm Cecil Lee, nice to meet you," he says, shaking my hand. "I'm here by Headmaster Dumbledore's request on behalf of the Werewolf Capture Unit."
He proceeds to open a big, furry proud smile. His hair and moustache is the same colour as Barnaby's hair, but his eyes aren't green and endearing like his nephew's.
"We're a part of the Beast Division of the Department of the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, charged with capturing werewolves," he says. "I'd like to speak to you about the attack you witnessed in the school grounds during the Halloween party."
I look at my watch. "Sure, I guess I have a few minutes. What do you want to know?"
He stares at me with witty eyes. "I want to know everything, Miss Lockhart. I think you'll find that I'm quite matriculate."
I frown. "Matriculate?"
Rowan clears her throat. "I think he means 'meticulous'."
"Let's not confuse ourselves with words and their meanings. That's playing right into the werewolves' claws."
I look at Rowan, who instantly shrugs. Maybe that's what Barnaby meant by "weird".
"Did you recognize the werewolf who attacked you?" he asks me.
"No," I say. "I had never seen him before, but he introduced himself as Fenrir Greyback."
Cecil Lee snorts. "I should have known. He's the most savage werewolf there is."
I frown. "Have you faced him before? Why didn't you capture him?"
Cecil looks at me like I've lost my marbles. "Have you seen how big he is? Those cold eyes… that sinister smirk… He's far too frightening."
I supress the urge to roll my eyes and just release a sigh instead. "Well, why will this time be any different?
He opens a wide, confident smile. "Because this time, you're going to help me."
I open my mouth, ready to tell him that he's completely insane, but I'm interrupted by Rowan, who grabs me by my wrist and pulls me away.
"This time she has classes to attend," she says. "Maybe some other time!"
I look back to see if Cecil is looking at us, but he's too busy watching a yellow butterfly fly in front of his face. I look at Rowan, who's torn between trying not to laugh and inhibiting a scream. I hold my bag firmly on my shoulder, following her to the South Tower.
"What. The Actual. Fuck?" she says, punctuating every word. "I mean, we know Dumbledore is reckless enough to hire Rakepick of all people… but send the most incompetent employee of the WCU to capture werewolves? I don't know what to think of that man anymore. You know, he was supposed to be a fucking genius. Everyone says that. Dumbledore is this… Dumbledore is that… Well, Dumbledore is clueless. Okay, let's go to class. We can talk about this later."
I swallow a giggle. I don't think Rowan noticed that I didn't say a word during our stroll from the Greenhouses to the Transfiguration classroom. I sit next to her in the back of the class, right behind Tulip and Tonks. Professor McGonagall places a small cauldron over her desk and looks at us with severity.
"Today's spell will definitely be on your O. ," she says, serious. "It's called The Vanishing Spell. Who can tell me this spell's incantation?"
Rowan raises her hand. "Evanesco, Professor. But it can be adapted, depending on the object or creature meant to be vanished."
"Correct," she says. "Five points to Ravenclaw. Indeed, spells can be very adaptable. Evanesco, for example, can be called Vesper Evanesco, if the target is a bat."
Rowan takes note immediately. We watch Professor McGonagall make the cauldron disappear, in order to demonstrate how it works, and then make her way to the chalkboard to explain the spell's equation. In the desk in front of us, Tulip doodles the professor in a pumpkin head. I suppress a giggle, trying to focus on the lesson.
An hour later, we leave the classroom, only to find Cecil Lee waiting next to the door.
"Are you following me?" I ask him.
"You're a clever girl," he says.
"I don't think cleverness and obviousness have any relation at all," I say, sharply. "Let me rephrase my question. Why are you following me?"
"Because I need your help to capture Fenrir Greyback," he says. "I've heard you're one of the best and brightest students in this school. Even brighter than my nephew Barnaby, and he's the sharpest member of the Lee family by a wide margin."
Rowan tries to restrain a laugh and ends up coughing compulsively in order to pretend she didn't find Cecil Lee's affirmation extremely amusing. I plant my hands on my hips, eyeing him seriously.
"If you help me capture Fenrir Greyback, I can promise you a place in the Werewolf Capture Unit," he says.
Professor McGonagall leaves her classroom, her arms full of books, and she looks at Cecil with deep severity.
"Mr. Lee, from what I know, Miss Lockhart's career goals aren't that frivolous," she says, dryly. "You should know best than to recruit a fifteen year old to deal with dangerous beasts. The Headmaster hired you to deal with the situation. Now, if you please, Miss Lockhart and Miss Khanna have classes to attend."
I flash a thankful smile at my dear Transfiguration professor, who simply nods and walks away. I take a polite bow at Cecil Lee and leave to the seventh floor for my Arithmancy class.
I don't look back to see Cecil Lee's expression. As soon as we turn the corridor, Rowan explodes in an amused chortle and continues to laugh all the way to class. I don't know if this is a part of Dumbledore's bizarre plans, but I don't have time to wander around looking for deadly creatures.
"Isn't it wrong?" I ask. "Laughing at his cluelessness?"
"Not if he keeps giving us laughing material," she says, happily.
On Saturday, the whole castle is in a big, excited commotion. It's the beginning of the Quidditch season, and the students are divided in shades of red and gold, and green and silver. With Charlie and Barnaby playing against each other, it's hard to decide to which house to root for. Rowan ends up putting on a top hat that's striped in both houses' colours, whereas I put on a red sweater and green pants. We walk to the pitch with our arms hooked together, ready to cheer for our darling friends. Hanging from my pinkie, with his finger hooked in mine, is Talbott, looking a little out of place in the sea of people.
We find a good place in the bleachers and Rowan instantly grabs her binoculars, watching Charlie enter the field, all pompous and joyful. He turns his face to look for her in the crowd and, when their eyes meet, he flashes her a handsome grin and winks.
"GO, CHARLIE BEAR!" she screams next to me, hopping excitedly.
The two teams get in formation, each on their side of the pitch, as Madam Hooch stands in the centre, her whistle in hand.
"I want a nice, clean game," she says. "Try not ending up in the hospital for a change."
Barnaby's lips curl in an amused grin and I chuckle, remembering the day Charlie and him crashed against each other. I cross my fingers, hoping it doesn't happen again.
"The Quaffle is released," our new commentator, Keith Highmore, a fourth year boy from Gryffindor, says excitedly. "And the game begins!"
My eyes immediately drop upon the sneaky Golden Snitch, which flies rapidly around the pitch, far away from the seekers. Charlie chases it with fluidity, but loses sight of it when Barnaby sends a Bludger in his direction.
"BOO, BARNABY!" Rowan shouts. "SLYTHERIN STINKS!"
"Row!" I say, laughing.
"What?" she shouts, pointing at Barnaby. "He's trying to kill my man!"
"Gryffindor has the Quaffle!" Keith narrates. "Bridget passes to Hans who passes to Charlotte… What an excellent move from Gryffindor's chasers! Charlotte passes back to Hans… He's moving quickly to the goal… Is he going to score? YES! Ten points to Gryffindor, the best team in the world!"
"Will I have to scold you constantly just like I used to do to our previous commentator?" Professor McGonagall asks.
"I'm sorry, Professor," the boy says.
The game continues with Slytherin having possession of the Quaffle. One of their chasers, Mary Sommer, is brutally hit by a Bludger sent by Gryffindor's beater, Aaron Keyes. She drops the Quaffle instantly, curling forwards with her hands on her ribs.
"Ouch," Talbott says, next to me.
"Oh, no, it seems that Miss Sommer will have to be excused from the game," Keith tells. "Wonderful action from our marvellous beater!"
"Ugh," I hear Professor McGonagall grunt.
The game is vicious. Bludgers nearly hit the bleachers as the teams try to cripple one another. The Quaffle is passes with such furiousness that chasers almost end up hurting their teammates. In between it all, the Snitch is nowhere to be seen. Charlie circles the pitch many times, dodging the balls with extreme agility. Next to me, Rowan is exultant.
"YOU'RE AMAZING, BABY!" she yells.
Even with a deficit of players, Slytherin manages to score fifty points very quickly. The remaining chasers, looking rather sweaty and nervous under the shining sun, fly around almost in rage, throwing the Quaffle one to another, deviating the Gryffindor players and scoring another twenty points in the next five minutes.
"The score is seventy to forty!" Keith announces. "C'mon, Gryffindor! Beat these Slytherins' arses!"
"MISTER HIGHMORE!" Professor McGonagall scolds.
"Professor, I don't know why you're complaining," he says. "You're Gryffindor's head of house, after all!"
"Doesn't matter!" she replies. "Have you heard of the word impartiality?"
"The meaning escapes my mind," he says. "Yay, Gryffindor scores another ten points!"
In the sky, not a single cloud blots the blue immensity. The sun stings my skin and I can only imagine how much hot it must be inside the Quidditch uniforms. Charlie, however, doesn't seem to be worried about it. I squint, watching him lean forward and race ahead, his eyes focused on something I cannot see from afar.
"HE SAW THE SNITCH!" Rowan shouts, poking me painfully with her elbow.
"Where?" I ask her.
"THERE!" she yells, pointing at a faint gleam that moves quickly, circling one of the posts. "GO, CHARLIE!"
I bite my lip, moving nervously in place, watching Charlie lift his arm in determination. He learns forward a little more to gain speed, his face twisted in an expression of pure resolution.
"C'mon…" I say, anxious.
The crowd explodes in cheers and applauses when Charlie closes his fingers around the cold, golden ball, rising in the air with his arm stretched towards the sun.
"And Charlie Weasley gets the Golden Snitch!" Keith says, excitedly. "Gryffindor receives a hundred and fifty points! Gryffindor wins!"
"YAAAAAAAY!" Rowan shouts, jumping and clapping, rushing to greet Charlie in the pitch.
Talbott flashes me an amused smirk. "Vicious game, huh?"
I smile at him. "Seems like I'll end up injured this year."
"Please, don't," he says, planting a kiss on my lips.
We leave the bleachers under Gryffindor's excited chants and Slytherin's boos. Talbott wraps his arm around my neck as we return to the castle to celebrate in Gryffindor's common room.
"I find it severely wrong to allow other houses' students to enter our common room," I hear Percy saying to Bill.
"Don't kill the buzz, Perce," he says. "Every house does it."
"Slytherin doesn't," the young comments.
"That's because they're antisocial."
"Hey!" Liz says, rushing to meet us. "I'm not antisocial!"
We walk to the Gryffindor Tower, where Bill walks ahead to provide the password – Feisty Hippogriphs – and unlock the entrance to a well-deserved commemoration after Gryffindor's victory and Halloween's disaster.
Charlie is already there being covered in Rowan's kisses. I spot Cady walking among the many elves that are serving settees and blackberry juice. Students of all houses are crowding the room, talking excitedly about the game. Gryffindor's flag pends victoriously from the ceiling, under which Merula is drinking a glass of juice. She isn't wearing any particular clothes that show her preference for one of the houses; she's simply wearing a black sweater and jeans. Her eyes meet mine and she looks at me as if I'm a familiar figure and not someone worth murdering, which makes me laugh inside.
"Hey," I say, walking to her.
"So this is Gryffindor's common room," she says, looking around. "Rather… simple. Don't you think?"
I shrug. "I wouldn't call it simple. I think it's very cosy."
"What does Ravenclaw's look like?" she asks, sipping her juice.
"Wondering how life would have been had you been sorted into a different house?" I ask her.
She rolls her amethyst eyes. "You make it impossible to carry a conversation, Lockhart."
I giggle, grabbing a chocolate cupcake from one of the passing trays and handing it to her. She grabs the dessert, staring at it in bafflement.
"I'm glad that you're here," I tell her. "Enjoy the party."
I join Talbott, who's talking to Ben in the other side of the room. I turn around, seeing that Merula is still staring at the cupcake, looking rather shook. She looks around, spotting Bill and Barnaby near the fireplace, and rushes to join them in their merry conversation.
Talbott welcomes my in his arms, kissing me affectionately. He offers me a cucumber settee, which I accept with a rumbling stomach.
"Athena?" a sweet, sugary voice calls from behind me.
It's the girl that we saved from the werewolf attack. She looks as ethereal as under the moonlight, with her icy blonde hair reflecting the red candle lights colour. Standing nearer, I can see that her eyes are icy blue, like the waters of a frozen lake. She looks at me with an expression that is a blend of shyness and joyfulness, playing with the moonstone necklace she has around her thin neck.
"I don't think we have been introduced," she says. "I'm Chiara Lobosca."
"Nice to meet you," I say. "How… uh… how did you know my name?"
She chuckles. "Everyone knows your name, but it was Madam Pomfrey that told me that you saved me from the werewolves. Well, you and your boyfriend."
I blush. "Oh. Hmm… Chiara, this is Talbott."
Talbott simply nods at her.
"I just… well… I just wanted to thank both of you. Hadn't been for you, I…"
"It's okay," I say. "I'm just glad you're okay."
She smiles dearly, playing with the hem of her grey sweater.
"How did you… I mean, if I may ask… How did you end up in that situation?" I ask her.
She looks down in a mixture of fright and embarrassment, and sighs. "I was taking a walk during the party… when I saw them leaving the forest. I… I don't know why, but I thought I could stop them," she says, looking at me with flushed cheeks. "I should've just ran and called for help."
I land a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. Don't be so harsh on yourself."
She looks at me, looking a little surprised by my reaction. "Wow… You truly are as kind as people say. Thank you, Athena. And you too, Talbott."
He nods again. Chiara walks away, her hair shaking around her shoulders, and joins some Hufflepuffs that are talking near the window. Talbott flashes me a smirk, which makes me blush furiously.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I ask.
His smirk intensifies. "Nothing. Just… amuses me to see how people adore you. Your friends… Snape… Chiara… my grandfather…"
"Talbott, you're making me blush," I say, placing my hands on my cheeks.
He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. His eyes are even more hypnotizing under the candle lights.
"You know…" he says. "I can barely wait to spend the holidays with you. Away from everyone else…"
I rub my nose against his jaw, allowing myself to be intoxicated by his scent. "Me too, Tal. Me too."
Having his uncle around leaves Barnaby progressively nervous with the passing of the days. With the changing of the moon's phase from full to a waxing gibbous, it gets clear that Fenrir Greyback won't be captured anytime soon.
"I don't even know why Dumbledore hired my uncle," Barnaby says, dismayed, when we're walking to another Rakepick lesson. "I mean… ugh…"
"I understand, Barney," Rowan says. "He should've hired the whole Unity. This is a school, after all. It's not like we know how to purge werewolves without ending up in supreme danger."
A loud, chilling scream echoes through the Grand Staircase, making me shiver inside horrible. We turn our heads up, looking for the source of the awful cry.
"Penny," Barnaby says, hasty, rushing to get to the staircase that is just starting to move.
He leaps skilfully, but Liz, Rowan, Tulip and I have to wait for it to come back. My heart races furiously inside my chest and the anticipation makes my hands shake.
"What's going on?" Rowan asks me, nervously, once the stairs return.
"I don't know," I say. "But I don't think we're going to like it."
We rush desperately towards the source of the sound, my heart quivering with an awful sensation that something is terribly wrong. When we reach the floor where Beatrice's portrait is located, we spot Penny knelt to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, with Barnaby's arms around her.
"What happened?" I ask, nervous.
Barnaby looks at me. "Badeea got trapped in a portrait too."
He points to a painting that is a few portraits away from Sir Cadogan. I walk there, my heart pounding painfully, only to see Badeea curiously analysing the landscape, but from inside the painting itself.
"Remarkable," she says, amused.
"Oh my God," I say, my voice barely a whisper.
My eyes return to Penny, who's grapping at Barnaby's robes, crying so hard that her whole body is shaking. The girls are around her, trying to somehow comfort her, but it's no use.
Badeea was a glimpse of hope… and now it's lost.
I gulp, trying to process the information, but it only gets my mind cloudier. From within the painting, Badeea runs her fingers through the golden wheat fields, looking extremely pleased. She doesn't seem to see me or hear Penny's crying. I close my hands into fists, digging my nails into my palms.
"Athie?" Rowan calls, eyeing me with concern.
I look at her, but my mind is swirling. Penny's image, torn and desperate, shatters my heart in a thousand pieces. I take a hesitant step towards them, but my body stiffens.
"I…" I start, unsure of what to say. "I need to put an end to this."
I rush through the corridors, not quite sure of where I'm going, feeling the stings that my fingernails impressions leave in my palms. I run aimlessly, my heart pounding in a piercing pain, wondering what I'm going to do to rescue Beatrice, Badeea and Penny's last spark of hope. I don't even notice that I'm crying until my vision gets all foggy and I have to stop for a while, resting my back against a wall.
Why did I even run? Why didn't I stay by Penny's side? Why didn't I try to comfort her?
My head begins to ache. I look around, noticing that I'm standing in the entrance hall, my back rested on the wall next to the dungeons entrance. Somehow, all my tribulations always end up leading me here.
I climb down the stone stairs, enjoying the calming effect of the scent of moss, even though my heart continues to drum awfully. Unfortunately, though the Potions classroom door is open, the room is crowded with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs that are having a lesson about Wiggenweld Potion. I let out a long, exasperated sigh, resting my forehead against the stone wall.
"Now that you are familiar with the appropriate steps to brew this concoction, I see no reason for you not to start doing it right now," I hear Professor Snape says, his sharp voice strangely calming to me.
He walks in between the desks, watching the first years gather the ingredients, when his eyes lock with mine.
"I will have to excuse myself for a few moments," he says to the class. "Do not disappoint me."
He walks to me, closing the classroom door behind him. The silent hallway is filled with my unsaid words as he eyes me through his onyx eyes, looking rather preoccupied.
"Miss Lockhart, shouldn't you be in class?" he asks.
I sigh. "I should," I say, desperate. "As I should be helping Penny. But I… I can't. I'm too weak."
"Are you feeling unwell?"
"Not in the health perspective," I tell him, taking my hands to my head and grapping at my hair. "I'm a weak witch, you see? I cannot put an end to these curses fast enough. It ends up taking ages… Taking lives…"
"What are you talking about?" he asks, resting his hands on my shoulders and leaning down to look at me.
"Badeea Ali got trapped in a portrait too," I cry. "She was Penny's last hope and now she's lost too. And these Vaults are not easy to find…"
"Miss Lockhart, are you putting yourself in danger again?"
I shake my head. "No. I'm hardly doing anything. But I should be, don't you see? I would gladly endanger myself to save my friends."
"This sounds awfully too righteous for me," he says. "And somewhat suicidal."
I look at him, my lips trembling. "What can I do? What can I do to make these things stop happening?"
His face twists in an expression of comprehension. "Come inside. Brew Miss Haywood some Draught of Peace. You can use my office."
"But I-"
"It's an order, Miss Lockhart," he says, simply. "Come."
He opens the heavy door, leading me inside. I try to avoid the first years' curious eyes as I grab what I need from the shelves and close myself into his office.
When I add the hellebore syrup, the potion releases a faint, turquoise smoke. In the dancing of the colours in front of me, I can see Penny's face. So dismayed… So lost… My heart aches as I brew the potion, trying to ignore the sting that comes from the tears.
It seems to take forever to finish the potion. Each minutes that passes is a minute that Penny's image gets clearer in my head.
"She's so upset…" I whisper to myself. "So upset…"
When the potion gets white, my heart seems to calm itself down. I let out a sigh that is a mixture of sadness and relief, and proceed to add the potion to a large flask. I label it, trying to ease the shakiness of my hands, and add a tiny heart on the corner of the label. I leave Professor Snape's office, and he simply nods at me from the other side of the classroom.
I feel waves of embarrassment flood my body as I walk back to Beatrice's portrait. Thankfully, everyone is still there, with the addition of Dumbledore, who's staring at Badeea's portrait with a pondering expression.
"Athie…" Rowan says, looking at me with arched eyebrows. "What happened?"
I gulp, kneeling next to Penny, who's still being comforted by Barnaby's soothing words. She raises her eyes to look at me, her lids looking awfully puffy and purplish.
"Penny, I…" I say, feeling my hands shaking again. "I… I brought you this."
I hand her the potion flask and she grabs it carefully, her pale hands wrapping around the glass. She reads the label and another tear drops down her beautiful face.
"You made this?" she asks. "For me?"
I nod, watching her face lighten up a little and her lips curl into a sorrowful grin. She opens the flask and takes a big gulp, relaxing shortly after. She rests her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around her, caressing her back.
"Thank you, Athena," she says, her voice muffled by my robes.
A single tear falls down my face. "I'll always be here for you, Penny. Always."
I strengthen my grip around her, resting my head against hers.
"Please, don't lose faith," I whisper on her hair. "Don't lose faith."
* Hard to Believe, by David Hodges.
