Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Harry Potter.
Chapter 16
Ariana was confident: to begin with. There was no doubt about that.
Tapping her foot in displeasure, she crossed her arms as she looked directly at the shadowy figure expectantly, "Severus Snape, remove this jinx at once," she said mildly, waving a hand in the air in a poised and dignified manner.
Severus jerked back in shock, inhaling sharply as he registered that the mysterious girl knew who he was, even through the magic that was meant to disguise and safeguard him. Gripping his wand tightly as he knew the jig was up, he muttered something inaudible under his breath, thrusting his wand upwards sharply, causing a sliver of pleasure to run through Ariana as he obediently followed her command.
The world was once more restored to its pale form, the darkened daylight pushed back at the edges of light, reclaiming the colours of day that had been washed into black from the unusual and original jinx. The world came back like a freshly developed photograph, every colour bright and new.
Ariana blinked as she rubbed her eyes in slight discomfort, the sudden change in luminance causing her spell-induced mydriasis to slowly abate.
She then looked up into the face of a young Severus Snape, an extremely pale and angular face that seemed to perfectly resemble the older version she had of him in her memories. His black hair was draped all the way down to his collarbone, the unusual sheen obviously stemming from countless hours of standing over a cauldron.
The sneer that presently adorned his face however, was still ever the same, as he pointed his wand at her.
"Who are you," he asked in a deadpan voice, distrust lacing his words as his black eyes smouldered and sought hers.
Ariana instantly noticed something wrong about this version of Snape. His current countenance was not constantly in a state of indifference or aloofness as she once remembered, but rather pulled tight over a thin veil of anger. His eyes seemingly revealed nothing at a first glance, but a closer look showed an internal battle that was constantly raging within, the stormy orbs billowing with suppressed emotion.
He clearly was not a master of Occlumency… yet.
"That was quite the ingenious jinx, Severus," she animatedly extolled as she suddenly clapped her hands, "Preventing light from entering the eyes whilst simultaneously distorting sounds that cross over a certain threshold, very creative indeed."
Severus warily eyed the jubilant girl in front of him; his guard lowering slightly as curiously overtook him.
"How… how did you know?" he hesitatingly asked, his wand now dropping to his side, no longer pointing at her.
Ariana laughed in a carefree manner, "Oh, I can see magic… sort of," she truthfully responded as she shrugged, unsure why she was so candid around a man – or boy, in this case – she had learned to hate during her time at Hogwarts.
Albus' voice hazily floated to the front of her mind from her past life, uttering an unforgettable line that seemed to wedge itself deeply in corners her mind.
"I would trust Severus with my life."
The said teenager let out a derisive snort at her seemingly ludicrous statement, "I highly doubt that," he scoffed, "Only a powerful wizard or witch can accomplish such a feat."
Ariana's eyes then turned large and innocent as she looked up at him in an angelic gaze.
"Is that so, Severus? I guess that means I won't be able to do-" she breathed, "-this," her voice twisting into guttural snarl at the last word as she whipped out her wand and pointed it at a chair beside them.
"Invorto!"
She shivered in perverse delight as a dark purple spell erupted from the tip of her wand and slammed into the wooden chair with vicious force. At first nothing seemed to happen, but then slowly, the grain inside the wood begun pouring out holes that ubiquitously appeared on the timber as it distorted, a morbid display as the chair literally turned itself out.
The event was too quick for even Severus to react to. Something flashed beneath the surface of his blank expression. It was too fleeting however, for Ariana to catch what it was.
His eyes then narrowed in calculation as he stared at the disfigured chair, "Such powerful dark magic for a kid…" he slowly muttered, "…and for a Gryffindor," he added with disdain, noticing the red highlights on her robes. He then looked up at face of the beaming child, an unsettling juxtaposition beside the abused chair.
"Who… are you?" he repeated carefully once more, this time in extreme caution.
When she stayed silent, he then frowned as he looked over her clothes quickly, looking for crests or insignias that would associate her with a Pure-blood family. He looked up with a snort after he finished inspecting her, finding nothing recognisable.
"A Half-blood, I presume?" he intoned, a flicker of self-loathing appearing on his face for a split second.
"Suppose I told you I was a Muggle-born… what then Severus?" Ariana coolly responded as she brought her hands up to her face, inspecting her nails in a nonchalant manner.
"Stop saying my name like that," Severus snapped, the tone of familiarity thoroughly disconcerting him.
Ariana ignored his outburst as she continued to play with her nails.
"All Muggles and the scum spawned from them should die…," Ariana sang in a disturbingly cheerful voice, tilting her head as she looked up at him, "…don't you agree?"
Severus' face grew perfectly blank once again as he gave a stiff nod, fresh memories of his abusive Muggle father rising up and filling his mind.
"Even… Lily?"
His eyes flashed red as his façade finally crashed downwards, gritting his teeth in fury at the two words, "Shut up," he growled, gripping his wand tighter.
Ariana said nothing as he stared balefully at her, only then realizing that her scintillating eyes perfectly matched the ones in the girl he loved most, above all else.
"You know nothing about me," he snarled in extreme agitation, the continued silence deeply unnerving him.
As he stared hatefully at the enigmatic girl, he saw only peace and understanding residing in the deep green eyes. Eyes which seemed to draw out words that he had kept locked within himself for – to him – felt like the longest period of time.
"I…I called her a Mudblood," he whispered as he closed his eyes in bitter regret, clenching his fists hard enough to draw blood, confused as to why he was telling a stranger this, "There is no going back."
"There is always a way back," Ariana murmured softly, her lilting voice caressing him and causing his wanton anger to dissipate and fade away into nothingness. She pushed forward unwaveringly.
"I can see the cruel pain that keeps you awake every night, the unjust suffering that makes you trust no one, and the constant torment from your household, your schoolmates… and your housemates."
Severus' eyes widened in panic as his mind twisted with confusion, wondering how this person knew his deepest and darkest secrets. She would not let him speak as she continued.
"Instead of letting the pain turn into anger, turn it into a weapon, a weapon that only the mightiest of men are capable of wielding."
It took a brief second for Severus's mind to processes what she was saying, "Pain… i-into… what?" he asked stammered.
Ariana gave a tired smile that seemed to show her own heavy burdens, and said just one word through the stillness of the day.
"Purpose."
Severus shivered from the fierce conviction in her voice then asked once again, his face showing one who feared to lose everything, "Who are you?"
She denied him for the third time that morning, and reached up with tip-toes to place one hand on his cold, trembling cheek, "You still have time to choose a side, Severus," she said powerfully, staring straight into his eyes as his mouth grew tight.
"Just remember this, time is not measured by clocks, but by moments instead," she continued in a murmur.
Severus forced his eyes away from her penetrating stare after a minute of silence.
"I…I have go," his voice no longer curt nor reserved, but small and vulnerable. He looked into her burning eyes one last time before roughly shoving her away from him and bolting out the classroom with as much haste as he could possibly muster.
Ariana stabilised herself from the forceful push as the door slammed shut once more, leaving her the only one in the desolate classroom. She silently thanked her newly acquired eidetic memory, recalling perfectly the contents of Snape's mind when she glimpsed into it after their Occulumency training had gone awry in her fifth-year.
Snape was one person that needed saving. Not from other people… but from himself.
She gave a tired sigh and sank down to the stone floor, sorrowfully hugging her thin knees as she placed her head sideways on them.
Her performance had been perfect.
Truly, if she had been sorted into Slytherin, she would have been capable of great things.
Terrible, yes, but great.
The dimly lit classroom lit up in a radiant glow from a sudden flash of red, roaring and leaping flames dancing brilliantly into life as something shimmered into existence out of thin air, heralding one of the most ancient beings in the world.
The distinguished creature had barely time to react as a young girl lunged at it with open arms.
Ariana had an almost feral look as she latched on to it with both hands, "Hello Fawkes, you're really cuddly for a bird, did anyone ever tell you that?" she brightly remarked, promptly burying her face into its soft feathers and causing it to squawk in minor annoyance at the action.
She would always feel a strange feeling of peace the closer she was to Fawkes.
After they had calmed down, Fawkes trilled softly in her ear, a musical medley that skimmed across a few octaves in a mere second. To a bystander, the sounds that the resplendent bird made would make not even a modicum of sense, but to Ariana, she understood it perfectly, inexplicably of course, as all things were in her current state of life.
She nodded at the phoenix in response and held on tighter to his fiery wing, all wreathed in a consuming flame that produced neither smoke nor consumed oxygen as it protected her.
They then disappeared with a flash; the only evidence that they were previous there were the dying embers that slowly snuffed out on the cold stone floor, one by one.
The duo reappeared in Albus' office.
Fawkes immediately detached itself from Ariana as it shook its wings urgently, flying up high before landing on its perch, looking at her one last time before disintegrating in a majestic and controlled firestorm.
"Time passes quickly," a voice called out from above her, "I did not realize it was Fawkes' burning day already."
She whipped her heads upwards gave a small smile, "Hi Al."
Albus' face secretly lit up from the nickname as his eyes began twinkling, and made his way down from his lofty bookshelves to stand by the young witch.
Albus noticed where her gaze rested upon, "As flame rises, so does it fade. Such is the way of things," he solemnly and cryptically uttered.
Ariana picked up some of the black cinder in her hand, feeling the fine grains slip through her slender fingers as gravity gently pulled it back to the bowl, "Soot and ashes tell no story," she murmured, "but this is a cycle that has no ending."
"Does it ever tire from this cursed existence of immortality?" she asked as she looked back up at him, referring to their mutual and feathery companion.
Albus gave a small shrug as he readjusted his half-moon spectacles to look at her, "Probably no less than you or me, my dear."
"It is often said that phoenixes lose some of their memories after they are reborn, so that they can experience the world anew each time. Of course, I always thought this to be utter hogwash," he said with a little chuckle.
Ariana turned back to the pile of ash as it finally started to move, a tiny curved beak slowly appearing through the fine particles. As the rest of its body struggled to get out, it let out a high-pitched chirp, a cry that tugged on her heartstrings as it filled the air.
She looked frantically back at her Headmaster, shocked that she had missed this previously, "Why is Fawkes crying out in pain? Are the ashes hurting it?" she breathlessly asked, with worry in her eyes.
"It is extremely painful…" Albus informed with slight sadness in his eyes, "…but then again, so is birth," he sagely added.
The both of them then silently watched the hatchling until it fully emerged from the cinder.
Realizing that he had delayed the point of their meeting for far too long, he hurriedly gestured for Ariana to sit while he rummaged through the folders in his desk, rifling through documents and records until he came across what he was looking for.
He then tossed a framed picture in front of her, and carefully watched for her reaction.
"Do you recognize these people?" he straightforwardly asked, a faint tenseness causing his brow to furrow.
Ariana picked up the portrait, a still image rather than animated one – a rarity in the Wizarding world – and scrutinized it closely, bringing it right up to her face as she tried to discern the faces in it.
"Sorry, not a clue," she responded after small moment as she shook her head, putting down the photograph of a man and woman that stood lovingly side by side.
Her frank answer caused Albus to give a sigh of relief as he slumped down onto his own chair, causing the young witch to look at him with worry.
"Ariana, these people… are your parents," he began slowly, still in his slouched position.
Ariana immediately opened her mouth in refutation but was cut off as he calmly raised his hand to stop her, "Please, let me finish."
Her mouth closed with a snap at the command, her wide eyes showing only a fullness of trust in him.
Albus leaned forwards and steepled his fingers, placing them on his brow ridge as he struggled to find a way to start.
"After you requested for me to help shield you from the Ministry a while back, I did some research of my own, clandestinely of course, and found some disturbing things in the process," he began.
He pushed the photograph towards her for emphasis.
"Ariana listen carefully, these two people do not exist."
"Someone planted this file deep within the Ministry archives a day before the Department of Mysteries took interest in your case. The story mentions that these two people were both killed at the hands of Death Eaters."
"I personally visited the scene of their purported murder and found traces of your magical essence scattered around their 'bodies'. It was painfully convincing though, as it took me a while before I could notice the hidden inconsistencies."
His face grew tight.
"This means, there is someone out there who has knowledge of your existence, for some reason is trying to give you a credible backstory, is trying to frame the Death Eaters, had access to you while you were being treated, and also has access to the internal Ministry registry," he listed with his fingers.
"Not to mention, he or she had the skill to fool an entire division," he gravely added as an afterthought.
Ariana's eyes bulged at the extensive list.
"Why would anyone help me?" she whispered in extreme paranoia, her eyes straying occasionally to the empty portraits that hung around Albus' office, "No one apart from you knows the real reason why I am here."
Albus' eyes grew dark as he realized he had overlooked that fact. Getting up, he paced back and forth as his ancient brain conjured up one bizarre theory after another.
"There were the multiple Healers from St. Mungo's which came to put you on the road to recovery, all of them I made sure were trustworthy," he muttered, mostly to himself, "Then comes the people in the castle… no, that's impossible…"
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, one of the most intelligent wizards that currently walked the planet, was stumped. He sat back down and stared at the young witch in seriousness as he whipped out his weirdly shaped wand.
"Ariana, I swear on my magic that I have not told a single soul about your real identity," he chanted as he raised wand, too quick for Ariana to even react to.
As he uttered words that were infused with magic, a faint but powerful shimmer surrounded him, bathing him in a soft golden glow as his magic confirmed his truthful proclamation.
Ariana's eyes widened as her hands waved animatedly in the air at the unexpected action, "A-Albus there is no reason to do that," she cried out in panic as her arms flailed widely, "I trust you."
Albus put down his Elder Wand on his table with a sigh from the reply, his wizened hand caressing over the knobbly bumps on the wand once over as he looked at it in what looked like remorse and shame.
"You shouldn't," Albus quietly replied with downcast eyes, so soft that she could barely hear his words, "You don't know what kind of person I really am."
Ariana's eyes softened as she got up and walked around his desk to put a small hand on his shoulder.
"The past has gone; the future is not yet here. There's only one moment for you to live, and that is the present," she said in seriousness, her face aglow with intensity.
Albus drew back in surprise and gave a hum in agreement after a second of thought, his own hand coming up to cover hers tenderly.
"Seek the wisdom of the ages, but look at the world through the eyes of a child," he quoted to himself as his own eyes turned skyward, the vestigial traces of bitter and scheming thoughts gradually leaving his mind, the stains of his past sins absolving slowly from his soul as his heart grew lighter with each passing second.
He gave a small chuckle as he patted her hand in silent gratefulness, lost in thought.
As he looked at the currently talking witch, all sounds were muted as his vision flashed between the animated grin of the young witch in front of him, to the echo of a radiant smile that his dear sister always used to wear.
His sight then grew hazy as his mind muddled them both into one overlapping image, his mind unable to tell them apart as the single picture sent waves of raw guilt undulating through him.
Ariana, you forgive me... right?
A bead of sweat meandered down James' forehead as his florid face twisted in concentration, his hand starting to vibrate uncontrollably as he struggled to pour forth more magic into his wand. Sensing that he was soon reaching his limit, he abruptly cut off his flow of magic and fell backwards with an exhausted gasp, crashing into three eagerly waiting people behind him, truly causing a cacophony.
"Oi, mate," came the disgruntled and muffled cry from Sirius amongst the racket, squashed rather unceremoniously under three rather heavy teenagers.
They were in a storage room in the Hogwarts kitchens and, needless to say, were right smack in the middle of preparing a prank of epic proportions.
An amalgamation of rich aromas wafted down from shelves, fully stocked with magically-preserved food for the next day, the plethora of vibrant-looking edibles delighting and almost overwhelming the senses.
Sirius then untangled himself from the human pile and leapt up impatiently, his eyes scanning over the high columns and rows of food that were stacked neatly on top of and beside each other.
He whirled back to James, "Well, are they all done?" he breathlessly asked, anticipating tingling in bones.
James' visage flashed a pained look temporarily as he struggled to stand up, "All done," he said proudly as he got on his two feet, "When the school consumes this food tomorrow morning, be sure to know that they'll be in for a good time."
Remus leapt agilely to his feet, bouncing up from the floor energetically, "You've kept this quite a mystery Prongs, do tell us," he requested, lightly nudging the spectacled teenager.
James characteristically ran his hand through his untameable mop of hair in a futile attempt to flatten it as he took a deep breath, "Moony my dear fellow, it goes like this. For the Slytherins, the hair on their head will transfigure into a bed of snakes; for the Ravenclaws, they will start to sprout feathers all over their body."
"For the Hufflepuffs, they will start to grow striped fur on their body that resembles a badger; and lastly, for our dear house, we'll all begin to sprout the most magnificent of manes," he finished, an ear-splitting grin his face as he motioned to his face to stroke an invisible mane.
"The spell will only last for a day…" he added with a thoughtful look on his face as he tilted his head, "…I think?"
Remus raised an eyebrow at the last few statements, "You did know that only the male lions have manes, right?" he mirthfully asked.
"O-Of course," James replied with an affronted look, beginning to then sulkily mutter under his breath as he crossed his arms, shooting childish death glares at Remus that caused Sirius and Peter to howl in laughter.
Peter only then noticed something amiss that the others didn't pick up as they were chortling away.
"James, are you alright?" he asked slowly in a serious tone after the laughter had died now, noticing that the hazel-eyed boy was trembling slightly.
James forced out fake laugh as he puffed out his chest, "The epitome of health, right here," he boasted, pounding his chest for emphasis.
Realizing that he wasn't fooling anyone from the silence that met him, he slowly reached down and picked up his eleven-inch mahogany wand from the kitchen floor, rolling it around in his hands as he looked at it carefully. He then looked around the room warily in an owl-like fashion, to reaffirm that they were still the only ones in the room.
"It's been… difficult to cast magic of late," he hesitatingly began, seemingly ashamed to disclose such a secret as the scion of an illustrious Pure-blood family.
"Have you been Madam Pomfrey?" Remus immediately responded, knowing that the middle-aged witch possessed near-legendary restorative abilities that could cure almost anything.
"I went there a couple of days ago… she said it was probably because I was tired or something," James quickly dismissed as he waved a hand in the air, knowing his body and magical core more than anyone else.
Sirius gave a grunt and pulled out his wand as he walked over to James, casting a quick Lumos and shoving it into his face to look at his pupils, also checking for the hidden signs of magical exhaustion.
"What sort of difficulties? Sluggish response of magic? Easily fatigued after simple spells? Spells take on unintentional side-effects?" Sirius interrogated, one question after another with no trace of humour in his voice, clearly experienced in this particular field.
"The second one, Pads. Simple spells have become toilsome to cast," James sighed wearily, waving the blinding light away from his face after a moment, causing Sirius to back off his both hands in the air in a placating manner.
Remus' face morphed into a worried look as he scratched his chin, certain that Madam Pomfrey could never be wrong, but certain that James was telling the truth as well.
"Maybe it's your wand," Peter suddenly commented as he broke his state of quietness, continually surprising the others from his newfound involvement in their day-to-day actives, as well as his lateral thinking.
James hummed in thought as he brought his wand up to his face, turning over his wand as he started weighing it in his hand.
"Good suggestion, Wormtail," he acknowledged, "But why would my wand do this? It's been more than capable right from the very second I touched it."
"The wand chooses the wizard" quoted Peter, recounting the words of the famous wandmaker in verbatim. "Maybe you should go to Ollivander just in case," he continued with a little shrug.
"Yeah, now that you say that… I think you're right," James mused in an undertone, feeling a sense of cold detachment from his once loyal wand.
"Oh well," he said as he shrugged, showing his wand back into his robes, "Let's get going then, before a teacher sees us down here." After checking to see if they had left anything behind, they exited the room into the large and warm kitchens.
The sounds produced in this room were rather pleasant to the ears. It was the sound of tender meat roasting over an open spit, of crackling fires that warmed large pots of bubbling soup, of potatoes and vegetables finely diced up on a wooden board, and of exotic fruits, churned and mixed into something that would bewitch even the most seasoned of taste buds.
"Bye folks," Remus hollered out, over the noise of the hustle and bustle of busy chefs.
"Goodbye, Messrs Marauders," the resident house-elves chorused in unison, one of the house-elves hitting another on the head with a pancake as it tried to break out into a farewell song.
They exited out from the kitchens to the staircase that led towards the Hufflepuff Basement and marched back up, intent on spending the rest of the lazy Sunday evening in their Gryffindor dormitory.
It was quiet in the cool and quickly darkening hallways as they trundled along, regaling each other with colourful stories that contained the most imaginative of embellishments. As they were walking, Sirius suddenly felt the hairs on his neck stand up ominously as they passed by a dimly lit passageway.
Without warning, he suddenly leapt towards James with his full body, cutting the talking teenager off with a squawk as he was talking. As they were falling, he felt something powerful whizz over their heads and collide into the wall behind.
"What-" came a short-lived yell from James, seconds before they both painfully crashed onto the stone floor.
Sirius said nothing, but quickly disentangled himself as he quickly stood up, putting his hand on James' head and turning it to the side. All of James' disgruntled yells disappeared in an instant as he spied what Sirius wanted him to see.
"Slytherins," he hissed, counting the heads quickly.
The group of sixth-year Slytherins sauntered out of the shadows and gave mock gasps of horror at the scene.
"Potter, you alright there?" the leader shouted from across the hallway with fake concern.
James' face pulled tight as the faces came into the light. It was Avery, Rosier and Wilkes, three of the more… radical Slytherins when it came to blood purity.
"Do be careful," Avery sneered when he drew close, "I hear blood traitors have a higher chance of dying recently."
They had all heard the new rumours. The ones about the new Dark Lord terrorizing even the Pure-bloods that chose not to follow down his path.
Sirius' face showed no emotion at all as shook his sleeve, causing his wand to fall into his waiting palm, loosely dangling in his grip as a dangerous and almost crazed look entered his eyes.
"Leave. I am not in the mood," he said with an expressionless face, his calm voice promising hints of utmost pain and misery if his will was not heeded.
Rosier tensed up automatically, knowing about the legendary curses that the house of Black taught all its family members, and pulled on Avery's sleeve, "Let's go," he murmured.
Avery sensed the shift in mood and realized that Sirius Black was still the heir from a dark and ancient bloodline, the wayward heir, but the heir nonetheless.
"Don't worry," Avery smirked in disdain, faint worry lining his eyes, "We'll be seeing each other much more often… just you wait."
With that, they strolled off once more into the darkness, vanishing from sight.
Remus then looked carefully at the dark imprint the spell had left behind on the stone and ran his fingers over the shadow, wrenching his hand away in pain as the curse activated.
"That was the Flagrante Curse," he said grimly as inspected his fingers, eyes narrowing as he saw that the top layer of his skin was burned off. If he had left his hand on the wall for just a few seconds longer, it would have certainly been a one-way trip to Madam Pomfrey's.
He turned back to the rest of them. "James… they are not messing around anymore."
Peter's countenance darkened as he scanned the murky corridor for more threats, "Every year they get more and more aggressive. Something is coming," he muttered forebodingly.
As they talked more about the current issues in the school, James noticed that Sirius still in the same position as he was in a couple of minutes ago, and had a face that resembled a marble statue, cut, cold, and ruthless. Signalling to the others that it had happened again, they abruptly quietened down.
"Padfoot…," James softy started, "…it's over. They've gone."
Sirius gave a start as James addressed him, his dead eyes regaining some of its energy back as he sluggishly looked around.
James knew about the hellish trainings that Sirius was subjected to when he went back for the summer holidays. It was a brutal regime that punished failure… and also punished success. The house of Black always believed pain strengthened the mind.
"Just give me your wand," James coaxed as he slowly reached down towards Sirius' hand.
When he successfully managed to extricate it from Sirius' wooden grip, he let out a breath that he didn't know he was holding in. He then carefully tucked it into his own robes, next to his, as he warily scanned over Sirius' face, "You alright there, Pads?"
Sirius forced a smile on his face as his mind fully returned to its normal state, "Never better," he replied bitterly.
What Sirius not did tell the rest however, was the presence of an insatiable desire that burned deep within him, enticing him to cast the darkest of spells upon the Slytherins, to curse, to maim, to mangle, and to shatter. It took all the willpower he possibly had to stay his hand after seeing James get attacked by a spell he and his cousin, Bellatrix, were very intimate with.
He was a child of the Dark, and it called ever so seductively to him.
He let out a shuddering breath and cleared his thoughts, smiling faintly as the hazel-eyed teenager turned back to the other two members in the quartet and told a string of jokes that lifted their spirits.
Everyone in this group was adopted by James in one way or another after they first him on the train to Hogwarts. Him, the boy that lived in constant anger and fear of everything; Remus, the self-loathing outcast with a terrible secret; and Peter, a shell of a human being who tried his hardest to be his own man.
James was the glue that mended them and constantly held them together. Everyone knew this fact… apart from James.
A hand waved in front of his vacant face, "Mate, ready to go?" James cautiously asked.
A full grin slowly spread across Sirius' face as he wagged his finger impishly, "Now now, any more sentimental stuff and I might have to steal you away from Lily," he simpered, battling his eye lashes in a most comical manner.
James let out a roar of laughter and he slung his arm around his housemate as they started walking, glad that Sirius was himself again, "You'll have to duel her for that right."
Sirius visibly blanched, "Not her Bat-Bogey Hex."
James grinned evilly as he nodded.
"Her Bat-Bogey Hex."
Night time arrived quickly at Hogwarts, the gradual shortening of days signalling the advent of winter, a cruel mistress that blankets the world in stark white once a year, impartially killing flowers, plants and animals without a shred of remorse.
Sirius and Peter were already fast asleep in their warm canopy beds. The candlelight that illuminated the room where they slept was diffused into a shade of velvety gold, dimmed as it were from the encroaching darkness and barely flickering as it cast long shadows, instilling a sense of snugness into the two other people that were still awake.
Remus yawned loudly as he quietly slipped under his covers, peering at the hunched back of James as he was furiously working away at something.
"James, it's quite late," he whispered softly, not wanting to disturb the slumbering teenagers that lay adjacent to him.
James gave a grunt in affirmation but stayed focused on something on the desk in front of him, "Just a few more touches to the Marauder's Map," he murmured back as he shuffled through a stack of papers on his desk, his brilliant and innovative mind able to deconstruct the complex magic that lay within the humble piece of parchment.
"I'll be done soon."
Remus tiredly nodded and yawned once again, stifling the sound as much as he could with his hands, "G'night," he slurred as he flopped back, falling asleep instantly as soon as his head hit the pillow, something that he never could of done until recently.
The candle was nearing the end of its life when James had finally finished up the tedious work. The wick of the candle that was once whiter than alabaster was now charred black, with a pool of drying wax sitting in the middle of it.
He took out his wand, glancing ruefully at his once faithful friend, one that had easily cast a thousand and one spells for him, and softy uttered the incantation to activate the map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
As ink infused into the paper, he gave it a quick scan to make sure he didn't damage it in any way and gave a satisfied nod to himself as it saw it function a lot smoother. He started folding up the parchment but paused when he saw something unusual on the map.
A saw a pair of feet stood right outside the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor on the map. Naturally, he knew that he and his dormmates were not the only ones that knew of the existence of the secret room, and so he gave it a disinterested glance as he continued to fold up the map.
James' eyes then widened as he hurriedly flipped back to the previous spot on the parchment, his fatigued mind registering the name that accompanied the pair of inky boots.
Ariana.
There was no middle nor last name, just that.
Frowning, he wondered if he accidentally messed with one of the smaller runes in the map that displayed names.
"It couldn't be…" he muttered to himself, scrunching his face up in thought, jogging his memory to recall whether he had met other Ariana's in the castle over the past few years.
He then made a decision after seeing the footprints abruptly vanish, knowing that the Room of Requirement was one of the only places that his beloved map couldn't penetrate, and grabbed his invisibility cloak from his trunk, hastily draping it over himself after blowing out the candle. The wispy plumes of silver smoke lazily waltzed their way upwards from the extinguished flame, carried up by a small draft that spun it a halo around his head for a brief second.
He then checked his map one more to scout for patrolling prefects and truculent ghosts, affirming that his way was clear before leaving the confines of his dorm, still absorbed in thought when he surreptitiously exited the room.
Ariana, what in Merlin's name are you up to?
A/N: All my motivation to write comes from you wonderful people! Enjoy the rest of your day!
