"Revenge may not be the answer, but it's a good place to start." – Speaking-in-forked-tongues (tumblr)

Chapter Seven - The Fault in our Maps

It's unfortunate that the sanctity of her bed was violated so egregiously. Ankaa had only just settled in a few minutes before, following a gruelling study session with Draco (where he had promptly outshone her in nearly every spell he had performed, smirking over at her in victory), she had finally sunk into the warmth of her sheets when the door to their dorm room was thrown open with a great BANG.

One of the upper-year Slytherin Prefects stood in the doorway, clutching her wand. With a wave of her hand, the blankets were snatched off the girls, who blinked at her figure in various stages of exhaustion.

"Get up," the Prefect commanded. "We've got to get down to the Great Hall. It's an emergency."

Daphne was the first to get her wits about her and sit up in bed. The Prefect had taken one look around their dorm, giving a pointed look towards Pansy (who had tried to sink back into her bed and cover her face with her pillow), before turning and departing.

"What did you do this time?" Pansy mumbled bitterly, lifting her pillow only slightly to shoot Ankaa a scathing look. "Set another dung bomb off in Filch's office?"

"Give me some credit, Parkinson. If this was my doing, I'd at least be smart enough to not get caught."

Grumbling, Daphne trudged around her bed. "What sort of emergency would have her lumbering through the dorms at this ungodly hour?" Daphne pulled Pansy upright in bed, shaking her roughly despite her protests, and dragged her towards the door.

Hesitantly, Ankaa followed after the two. As they reached the balcony overlooking the Common Room, Ankaa peaked over the bannister to see that nearly all the dormitories had been emptied, and the students had gathered downstairs looking equally lost and sleep-deprived. Pursing her lips, Ankaa turned back towards her room.

"Uh, we've got to head this way, Rhyther," Daphne raised a brow at her, but Ankaa only waved her away. "What are you doing?"

"Go on without me," Ankaa muttered, reaching for the door handle. "I'll join you in a second. Just forgot to grab my wand."

"You don't need your wand," Pansy pointed out with a roll of her eyes. "We're just headed to the Great Hall. Let's just go."

"Get lost then," Ankaa could not bite back her smarmy reply. She turned and shot Pansy a glare over her shoulder. "You're not my mother, you don't have to wait for me. I'll meet you in the Great Hall."

Pansy frowned at the reply, but took Daphne's hand with an indignant huff and pulled the girl along and down the stairs. Daphne frowned at the scene, shooting Ankaa an undecipherable look before disappearing around the bend. Once the two of them were out of sight, Ankaa sped into their dorm and began rummaging through her trunk. Turning over her supplies (she liked to keep her old books and extra parchment tucked away in there), her hands finally found the one piece of parchment she had been pouring over for the last week.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

The words immediately brought the ink to life, and Ankaa watched it create the familiar picture. She had expected the halls to be empty (save for perhaps the Slytherin students who suddenly had to vacate to the Great Hall), but almost every student was out in the halls, heading towards the Great Hall. Just as she was about to tap her wand onto the parchment, her eye settled on a particular name, and her blood froze in her veins.

Sirius Black.

He was here. At Hogwarts. Wandering the grounds.

"Mischief Managed," Ankaa mumbled quickly and put the map away. Ankaa wondered if her copy of the map was malfunctioning, but logically it would make the most sense for him to be here. After all, he was trying to get to the Boy Who Lived.

How did he get past all the security?

The Dementors had been a constant presence for the student body this year, whether they were fond of them or not. Dumbledore had been outright in his command to keep them away from the school grounds, but every so often Ankaa would catch sight of them from the Astronomy Tower, floating here and there, looking. Always looking.

Ankaa shuddered. She could feel the penetrating gaze, the deep soul reaching fear from one of those creatures.

"Oi!"

Ankaa was startled out of her reverie at the sound of the familiar voice. Blaise and Draco were stood in the common room, looking every bit beyond irritated at the sight of her.

"Take your time, won't you? Finished putting on your makeup for a late-night stroll?"

Ankaa narrowed her eyes at Draco. "You didn't have to wait for me, you know?

"Daphne said you had gone back to your dorm to grab your wand. Pansy thought you might've just gone back to sleep." Blaise regarded her carefully. "All that trouble and you didn't even bring your wand with you?"

Ankaa shifted on her feet. "Guess not," she said dismissively. "Doesn't explain why you waited. Even if I had just fallen asleep, it's not like you two could've gotten up the stairs and woken me up."

"Maybe not," Blaise conceded. "But we didn't think you went back to sleep anyway. What were you actually up to?"

"Who cares. Let's get going. I don't want to get in trouble with Snape." Draco shot her a meaningful look as he turned and strutted out of the Common Room. Blaise looked between the two before following the boy, taking Ankaa by her sleeve and pulling her along as well.

"You won't tell me then?" Blaise whispered as they made their way through the hall and up the stairs towards the main entrance. "Does Draco know what you were up to?"

At the sound of his name, Draco turned and shot Zabini a look of distaste. "Why does that have your knickers in a twist? Who cares if she doesn't want to tell you?"

Blaise didn't say anything. Ankaa yanked her arm out of his grip and moved past him and in front of Draco.

"Stop treating me like a child," She told the two of them, barely slowing down her strides. She knew they could hear her perfectly well. "I know Ceph's asked you to keep an eye on me—both of you—but you don't need to keep tabs on me all the bloody time."

Ankaa thought briefly of the greater implications of this conversation and about how, in light of her disastrous heart-to-heart (if we could even call it that) with her brother just hours before, Ceph and her mother had convinced even her friends to constantly try and coddle her was an absolute insult. But all this was pushed aside by a more concerning reality.

Had Sirius Black somehow broken into the castle? After all, if the Map was to be trusted, then there were several undetected passageways in and out of the castle, and if he had been a student at Hogwarts before he must have come across them during his studies here.

Of course, there was also the possibility that her copy of the Map was malfunctioning. Replication spells were notoriously tricky to perform, and a third-year attempting to copy a complicated parchment with a complicated spell could mean that her copy wasn't working properly.

But a Map cannot think for itself. It won't know who Black is.

Blaise and Draco were remarkably silent as they entered the Great Hall. Their eyes wandered over the other students in the hall, each looking just as confused as the Slytherin students had felt. There were a few of them who seemed to have an idea of what was going on and were busy regaling their story to curious listeners. Lavender Brown, who still seemed to hold some sort of grudge against Ankaa pertaining to their last interaction, took one look at her and turned away. Her voice was hushed as she said something to the group of people around her, who all gave gasps of surprise and wide-eyed stares.

"Do you see them?" Ankaa leaned her head over to her companions. Blaise was stood on the tips of his toes, seeing as he was the tallest, and was peeking over the hoard of students.

A mop of curly hair made its way through the crowd, and Ankaa immediately knew who it was. Ceph stood almost a head above all the others, towering over even Blaise, and he easily made his way over to the trio. Ankaa tried to subdue the petty streak in her and initiate a conversation first, but his words were still fresh in her mind. Unluckily for her, Ceph was just as petty. He, along with Cedric Diggory, merely joined the group and gave them a solemn nod of acknowledgement.

It was Draco who sensed the animosity between the siblings and spoke first. "What's going on? Why did they bring us here?"

Cedric gave the boy a tense smile. "It seems Sirius Black somehow broke into the school. He must've tried to get into the Gryffindor dormitory."

Shit.

Draco tried to muffle his snort, disguising it as a cough for Cedric's sake. "After Potter then, wasn't he?"

"We don't know that," answered Ceph, giving Draco a serious look. "Potter's fine though, but Dumbledore asked us to bring all the students down until the teachers have had a chance to search the castle."

No use. He was already out the last time I checked.

"Everything okay, Ankaa?"

Cedric's question snapped her out of her thoughts, and Ankaa gave him a polite smile. "Yes," she answered his concerned look. "It's fine. I'm just trying to think of how he got in—after all, aren't there Dementors at nearly every entrance?"

Ceph, who was too deep in his thoughts to remember he wasn't technically on speaking terms with his sister at the moment, nodded slowly. "It's certainly strange that he got in undetected... Even managing to get to the dormitory undetected is strange. I would think one of the portraits would have seen him along the way."

Secret passageways. But last Ankaa checked none of them led directly to the Gryffindor dormitory.

"I should probably go check with my co-prefect," Cedric muttered, looking around the hall for the girl. "I suspect Dumbledore would have us doing rounds to help out tonight."

Ceph nodded and the Hufflepuff boy left them with a polite nod. Ceph turned back to the other Slytherins.

"Why were you all late in getting to the Great Hall?" His grey gaze shifted from Blaise to Draco, growing icier and icier by the second. "The rest of your friends got here with the Prefects."

"We were having a threesome—"

Draco's elbow came up and jabbed Ankaa in her side so harshly, she doubled over from the pain. Even Blaise, who usually found such remarks amusing, shifted on his feet under Ceph's stare.

"You're thirteen."

"She's just joking!" Draco defended quickly. "You know we would never! She's like a little sister."

Ceph narrowed his eyes at Draco in disgust. "I know you would never, idiot. I know you three obviously weren't up to that—"

"—you can say the word, you know, it's not cursed—"

"You," Ceph pointed at her with a heated look, "Shut up. I'm talking to your friends."

"You can talk with me directly. That is... if you've decided you've had enough of your watchdogs reporting to you."

Blaise had turned away from them and was scanning the crowd. Upon spotting something, his eyes widened and he grasped Draco by the elbow and pulled him to the side. "Gotta go, Nott's waiting for us!" With that, the two of them disappeared into the crowd faster than Ankaa could blink.

She didn't care, however, because she was too busy returning her brother's glare. Ceph was the first to back down.

He heaved a sigh before muttering, "Sorry."

"What was that? I didn't quite hear it."

"Sorry," Ceph repeated graciously, not caring if others heard him apologize. "I guess I thought I was looking out for you. But you never let me in—I never know what's going on in your head and what you're up to, so I can't help. And now, when you came in late and no one had any idea what you were up to... With Black running around, I assumed the worst."

Ankaa blinked up at him, taken aback by his honesty. She wasn't surprised by it given that he was definitely the better one out of the two of them.

"... Apology accepted," She held up her hand to stop the smile from spreading on Ceph's face, "only if you stop using my friends to spy on me."

"Deal. But that means you actually have to keep me in the loop."

"Fine."

Except I can't tell him about the Map. Not just yet.

Ankaa felt the guilt wash over her the moment Ceph gave her a fond pat on the head, telling her to join her group of friends while he went to check in on his girlfriend. She told herself there was no point bringing it up if she wasn't sure about the Map just yet. Besides, he would no doubt convince her to turn it in, the damn goody-two-shoes.

Her reasoning kept the guilt at bay, but only for a while. As she rejoined her group (ignoring the hateful glare Pansy shot her), she realized none of them actually knew much about what had happened.

"So he got into the dormitory or was he stopped outside?" wondered Daphne. "Because I overheard someone say that Sirius Black was standing over the foot of Potter's bed with a butcher's knife, and he managed to chop off some of his hair when he took a swing at him."

"If only he had good aim," marvelled Theodore. "He might have done us a great service by getting rid of Potter."

Daphne looked scandalized, especially so at the fact that Draco, Blaise and Pansy were amused by it.

"That's not funny," she said. "Who knows if they'd be next? Isn't Black deranged after all?"

"If wanting Potter gone is the standard for derangement then count me in." Draco wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, continuing to snicker with the boys and Pansy.

"Daphne, it's fine," Ankaa spoke before the girl could say something else. "Potter's obviously fine. Look—" she pointed to where he stood with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, looking a bit shaken but alright nonetheless, "—he's absolutely fine. As if Dumbledore would let anything happen to him."

Daphne seemed to relax at the sight of the boy. To her credit, she was certainly the nicest out of their group (a sweet girl amongst some snakes, it never bode well for her but they were all fond of her so they let it slide). "So... what exactly did happen then? There's no single story that makes sense." She trailed off, looking from person to person in the group. "I don't suppose any of you have some friends in Gryffindor who could tell you?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm best friends with Granger, didn't I tell you that?" Draco stood with a flourish. "Let me go ask the mud—"

"Ankaa, aren't you friends with Brown? Didn't she ask you for some help a while ago?"

"If you're referring to the rabbit incident, I just want to point out that I lied about her rabbit being dead and made her cry. I'm probably the last person she would tell the story to," Ankaa answered Daphne, giving her a sardonic smile. "Better luck next time, Daph. I'm sure the story will make its rounds and come to you soon."

Daphne looked disheartened.

"Why don't you try asking your boy toy... Alfonso?" Blaise suggested.

"Antonio," she corrected, but there was no heat to accompany it. "I can't ask him seeing as we're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment. We had a little argument—"

"—already?" Ankaa raised a brow. "You've been on one date."

"For your information, it wasn't about that. It's about his ex—Anyway," Daphne stood as well. "I seem to remember you're quite close with the Weasley Twins."

"If by close you mean they're trying to actively plan my death, then yes." Ankaa narrowed her eyes at her dormmate. "But somehow I feel like our definitions of close differ."

"They do." Daphne's smile morphed into a sinister smirk. "Wouldn't this be a great opportunity to go over there and apologize for whatever it is that you've done to them—"

"—she punched one of them in the face," Blaise supplied, "so I don't think a simple apology would suffice."

"... You did... what?"

Ankaa met Draco's incredulous look head-on, tilting her chin up to look at him defiantly. "I punched him in the face after he called me a frigid bitch. I don't think I did anything wrong."

"Neither did he," Theodore pointed out, "He's totally right."

"If you want a black eye so bad, Nott, all you have to do is ask." Ankaa gave him a sweet smile, clenching her fists at her side. "With charms like those, it's a wonder you don't have any other friends."

The boy was not deterred. He only gave her a cheeky smile. "My humour only appeals to a select few... In particular frigid bitches."

"Ok, enough," Daphne shot Theodore a glare before turning to Ankaa. "Put your pride aside and get me the information."

"Absolutely not. I don't owe you anything."

"You turned my eyebrows into a bush not twelve hours ago!"

Ankaa snickered. "Okay, yeah, that was funny. But not enough to go over there and talk to the murderous twins."

Draco leaned against the wall, taking it all in. "Hang on—what is going on? Why are we talking about eyebrows?"

"Doesn't matter," Daphne growled but her face was turning a bright shade of red. "They're the only ones you can ask And look, they're with Wood, so they can't hurt you."

"I think you have some high expectations from them—"

"—Take Blaise with you! And remember Blaise, don't insult them!"

In the next second, she had a surprisingly strong grip on both student's elbows and pushed them along one after the other to where the Weasley Twins stood along with their Quidditch Captain. Ankaa debated turning back, but the heat of Daphne's glare fueled her momentum forward and she soon found herself standing behind Oliver Wood.

Sensing the presence behind him, Wood turned around. Immediately, at the sight of the two Slytherin students, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "What do you want?" he demanded, staring the two of them down.

"Oh, relax, I'm not here to steal your Quidditch plays from you," Ankaa retorted with a roll of her eyes. "I just wanted to know what happened at the Gryffindor dormitory."

This is humiliating.

"Sirius Black was in the castle and he tried to get into the dorm." Fred did not bother looking at her as he gave his concise reply.

"Surprisingly enough, I've gathered that myself. Thanks."

"Great then you can leave."

"I want to know what happened exactly. Did he get into your dorms? How did he get found out? Who saw him?"

Fred made a big show of turning his head away, crossing his arms and peering decided to one spot off to the side. His brother and the Quidditch captain shared a look.

"He didn't actually manage to get inside," George supplied carefully. "When we came back from the feast, the portrait of the Fat Lady had been slashed."

"Pretty viciously too," Fred added, still not looking towards the Slytherin students.

"And the Fat Lady was hiding in some nearby portraits. She said she saw him—"

"—She's sure it was Black though."

"—he spoke to her and everything."

"—got angry when she wouldn't let him in. And then he slashed her portrait and fled."

"For someone who didn't want to tell us anything, you sure are talking a lot," Blaise gave Fred an irritating smirk, trying not to smile at the way the boy's eye twitched in anger.

"How did..." Ankaa turned to George. "That doesn't make any sense—How did Black get to the dorm without being seen? Even by the portraits? Someone must have seen something!"

And if that's the case, how did he get back outside so quickly?

"Not sure," George gave a tense shrug. "That's why Dumbledore had everyone come here. We're not sure how he got in or out."

The two of them shared a heavy look. They knew Black must somehow know about a passageway, but the three of them weren't in any position to disclose that information without risking the Marauders Map. At the realization, Ankaa cleared her throat.

"Can I speak to the two of you? Alone?"

"Who two?" Wood, who had regained his wits, blinked owlishly at her.

"The twins, idiot. Unless you've got some twin I don't know about."

Wood glared at her, his lips turning into a scowl. Reluctantly, he turned to face the twins who gave a slow nod (well, George did, Fred was still acting as if he was uninterested). Beside her, Blaise gave her a sideways look, which Ankaa answered with a brief nod and smile, nudging him back to where their group of friends were standing and waiting.

Ankaa watched Blaise saunter back to Draco's side but her mind was racing, thinking of her next words. Slowly, she turned back to face the twins.

"I'm not sure if you saw Black on the Map—"

"We didn't," George answered in a whisper. "We haven't got the Map anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"—Harry's got it," said Fred. "We gave it to him earlier today, before Hogsmeade."

"We thought he could use one of the passageways to Honeydukes' cellar."

"Right..." Well, that threw a wrench in her plans. "I'm asking because I saw Black's name on the map earlier. He was somewhere on the school grounds and I wasn't sure if my copy was malfunctioning."

This time, Fred turned to her completely, as if he was taking her in for the first time. He eyed her from top to bottom, his eyes narrowing in doubt before finally, he shared a look with his brother and asked, "You copied the Map?"

"Of course," Ankaa answered as if it was obvious. "I wasn't going to pass up on such an excellent resource."

"And you copied it?"

"And it works?" Even George seemed surprised.

"No," Ankaa gave them both a deadpan look. "I copied the Map but it doesn't work, I just lug that parchment around for sentimentality—of course, it works! Why else would I give you the original back if I didn't have a perfectly functional copy already?"

"Alright, no need to bite our heads off, short-stuff," George chuckled. "We were just surprised. Replication spells are notoriously difficult on complex objects."

Fred nodded along as if he understood perfectly well and had personal experience in the matter. "The more facets to replicate, the more bothersome the spell."

Ankaa stared between the two of them. "Right, so... Black must've used one of the passageways to get in and out. We can't tell the teachers about our suspicions though." At their conflicted looks, she elaborated. "Unless you two can think of a way wherein your passageways won't get closed down? I can't think of any."

"Me neither." The two replied in unison.

"So I guess we just keep quiet about it. Hopefully Black doesn't come for you again."

"Technically, he was after Harry," George pointed out with a cheeky smile.

"So as long as we're not near him, we should be fine."

"But... I suppose we can tell him to keep an eye on the map in case."

Ankaa nodded. Poor Theodore would hate this turn of events if he was in the loop about the Map. Saint Potter with such an invaluable resource? Blasphemy.

"Well, thanks." Ankaa cast one look behind her to where her friends were sat. Draco was the only one even paying attention to her. "Before I go... And this is not me apologizing because you—" she pointed to Fred, "—did say some really rude stuff. But since I'm not apologizing for what I said and did, and I expect neither will you... I guess what I'm saying is... Truce?"

"Truce?" The twins repeated slowly.

"Yes, truce. A ceasefire, if you will. Your pranks are great but let's be honest, you can never get me. Poor Daphne and Pansy have had many sleepless nights over getting caught up in this mess and I don't really want to throw any more punches—" Fred ran a hand over his cheek, as if he could remember the stinging, "—so truce. You stop trying to get me and I stop being... frigid and bitchy to you?"

Fred considered her carefully. "I suppose it'll be nice to have you around for complex replication spells."

"Yeah, we struggle with that ourselves." George shot his brother an undecipherable look. The two stared at one another for a moment before nodding simultaneously.

"Alright, short-stuff," Fred chuckled with a bright expression. "Apology accepted."

"That wasn't an apology."

"Well, then, not-apology accepted."

"—Truce accepted, I think, is the legal term," supplied George, shooting Ankaa a cheeky smile. "Besides, it's kind of hard to be mad at you when you punch like that."

Fred couldn't help the frown. "Let's not do that again, though. Violence is never the answer, young miss."

"Neither is verbal abuse," Ankaa retorted, narrowing her eyes at him. "You'd be wise to remember that."

The boy only gave an easy shrug. "As you wish, your highness," he gave a low bow, waving his hands before him in a dramatic flourish. "If the lady promises to not throw her hands about wily-nilly, we shall refrain from throwing verbal punches at one another."

"Great," Ankaa stepped away from the display awkwardly. "Well... Goodluck then. Hopefully, Sirius Black won't be hiding in your bed when you get back."

Fred and George sniggered. "That's a good idea." Fred said, "Maybe we could convince Ron—"

"That Sirius Black is in his bed?"

"It's a minimal effort prank," George added, turning to face his twin. They both stared at each other for a few moments. Ankaa could tell they were doing that creepy twin thing that they did. They were telepathically communicating about their brother's demise.

"Done." Both of them nodded with a smile.

Ankaa could not help the quirk of her lips as she shook her head in amusement. "Good luck on your game against Slytherin this Saturday," she told them before she turned and rejoined her friends, pointedly ignoring the looks Draco was sending her way as she made up some extra information about Sirius Black prowling around the school corridors.

What a turn of events.

"Rhyther!"

There were few things in life that brought Ankaa as much dissatisfaction as the sound of her name from Marcus Flint's mouth. She looked up from her Potions essay to see the upper-year Slytherin making his way over to her. As usual, he student had a scowl on his face. In all the years she had known Flint, she never thought him capable of a neutral expression. He was either frowning or doling out malicious smirks. He was carrying a little scroll in his hand which he threw at her the moment he was close enough. Gingerly, Ankaa held it between her thumb and forefinger and gave Flint a blank stare.

"What is this?" she asked.

"It's a note for Wood."

"A love note?" She gave him a sly smile. "Found love on the Quidditch field, have you Flint?"

"Don't be a moron, Rhyther." He looked visibly disgusted at the mere idea. The scowl on his face was so deep, Ankaa was tempted to tell him it might just stick. "It's a note from Snape telling him that Slytherin won't be playing him on Saturday. Take it to him."

"I'm not your owl." Ankaa threw the scroll back at him with a scowl, "Go do your own work. I don't need Wood trying to kill me."

"He won't."

"Then why don't you go?" Ankaa retorted, raising a brow. Without waiting for his reply, she packed up her things and started heading back to the castle. She was hardly afforded one day of peace before someone ruined it for her. It had been struggle enough to get to the paddock and visit Storm without Blaise or Draco trailing after her.

"I have other things to do," Flint growled.

"So do I," Ankaa retorted with a glare. "Unless you have something worth my time, I don't see why I need to do your bidding."

As she walked away, Ankaa heard the older student sigh irately. There was a pause as Ankaa counted the steps she took away from him. One... Two... Three...

"Wait!"

Ankaa stopped and turned to face him slowly. "Yes?"

Flint looked as if he wanted nothing more than to trample her into the ground. Surprisingly, he bit back his irritation and muttered, "I'll let you join the team."

"What—"

"Next year," he interrupted. "You can be a Chaser for Slytherin next year. Women are useless but—"

"Rethink your next words."

Flint stalled at the edge in her tone. He took a moment to think it over and then began reluctantly. "Most women—"

"Nope. Start over."

"You're not useless?"

"Is that a question for me?"

Flint threw the note at her, and Ankaa caught it effortlessly in her hand. "Just take the damn note to Wood," he spat. "I've got to get to detention with McGonagall. I'll let you onto the team next year."

"That's a big payoff, Flint." Ankaa turned the scroll over in her hand. "A big price to pay for delivering a note. Why didn't you ask one of the other students to do it for you?"

Flint did not have the decency to look ashamed. "I saw you talking with Wood in the Great Hall when Black broke in," he gave her a nasty smirk. "He won't suspect you of trying to steal plays. He's in the locker room right now, working on them. So whatever you see, you let me know."

"Right, and you think we're best friends now cause we had one conversation?" Ankaa laughed at his expression. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. We're actually planning a sleepover. You can join us—I can paint your nails and we can talk about Quidditch all night long."

Flint's patience wore thin. "Just get the note to him," he said as he pushed past her roughly. "Get me his plays and I'll get you on the team next year."

True to Flint's word, Oliver Wood was in the locker room (as he was on most days). When Ankaa traipsed into the room, the Gryffindor in question was standing before a dual-sided blackboard with his hand under his chin, and his gaze fixated on the intricate plays outlined on the board.

It was lucky for him that Ankaa hated Flint's misogynistic comments (not to mention his general personality). Plus, she wasn't on the team yet, so why bother?

Gently, she cleared her throat. Wood startled at the sound, doing a double-take when he saw the Slytherin girl standing behind him, openly peeking at the board. The Captain jumped over to the board, desperately attempting to cover it with his body and arms so that she could not see what he had come up with.

It went on for a few minutes, and Ankaa watched him fumble with the board, trying to flip it or turn it over. Finally, when her amusement morphed into intrigue, she shot him an 'are-you-an-idiot' look before reaching for the latch at the side and swinging the board around so the black side was facing forward.

Wood paused, taking in the scene momentarily before standing upright. Now that he had collected his bearings, he glared at the girl.

"You know, for a bloke who spends most of his life in this room, I'm genuinely in awe that you didn't know the two-way board had a lock on it," teased Ankaa.

"You snuck up on me, that's all."

"That's worse. Shouldn't Keepers have lightning-fast reflexes?"

That stumped him. "What are you doing here?" he asked, getting straight to the point.

Ankaa held out the note for him with a wide smile. Wood eyed the note before hesitantly taking it from her. She watched as his expression went from curious to furious in a few short seconds.

"Malfoy isn't even injured!" He shouted at her, crumpling the note in his hand. Ankaa took a decent step backwards to avoid his furious pacing from side to side.

Ankaa held up my hands in surrender. "I'm just the messenger, bud. No need to shout at me. It was either me or Flint that delivered the news, and I figured if someone remotely good-looking delivered it you'd be happy."

Ankaa's wit went straight over his head. He mumbled and grumbled to himself a bit more, completely oblivious of her presence, and Ankaa took the liberty of turning the board back around. The motion caught Wood's attention, and he barrelled over the benches like a bull and tried to wrench the board free of her grip.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

One of his elbows came up in the struggle, and he managed to push her aside. With a grunt, Ankaa stepped back. "Did you come up with all those plays yourself? They're actually half-decent."

Wood just gave her a vicious glare. This time, instead of fumbling with the board, he simply flipped the latch and swung the board around. He kept his hand on the board as if Ankaa would physically fight him to try to get a look at his half-baked strategies again.

Unperturbed by his surly attitude, Ankaa continued, "You know, Pucey is pretty weak on his right side, so I'd suggest you tweak number three a little to make sure someone stands by on his right when he shoots. His aim always goes wide anyway."

Wood's glare turned into a suspicious look. "Y-You're telling me about their weaknesses?"

Ankaa shrugged, hiking the strap of her bag higher on her shoulder. "It's a weak team this year. Besides, I owe you, or your team, for the way Malfoy fell last year. It was hilarious. I expect you'll be busy now with that—planning for Hufflepuff and all."

That seemed to snap him out of his daze. Soon enough, he had shooed Ankaa out of the room, claiming he had to "think up a way to crush Diggory without you distracting me". Ankaa had never really interacted with Wood before this, and everyone she had talked to him about only told her how obsessed he was with Quidditch. At first, Ankaa had thought they were all exaggerating. But now, she could see that maybe what they had said was an understatement.

That boy needed to sort out his priorities.

"That's the second hateful glare we've gotten this second," Blaise pointed out as he and Ankaa crossed a group of Gryffindor students. "You'd think they'd realize we're not on the Quidditch team."

Ankaa squinted at the figure of the girls in the distance. They looked to be two players on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. "I think Wood must've told them of what I did in the locker room," she speculated. "Must be debating whether or not my advice on Pucey was true or not."

"I would've paid good money to see that bumbling idiot," laughed Blaise. "I'm surprised you didn't tell Flint about the plays."

Ankaa gave him a noncommital shrug. "If Draco and the team were playing this weekend, I might've floated some information along. But seeing as Draco's milking his injury for all it's worth, the information isn't all that valuable."

"He's gotten some choice words about that from the Gryffindors as well." The two of them managed to get to their DADA classroom right on time and settled themselves into the seats at the back. "They're not too happy about playing against Hufflepuff. I think they'd hoped for another crushing victory against Slytherin."

"Namely, they just wanted to see Malfoy faceplant in the dirt like last year."

On that particular Friday, Professor Lupin was missing and Snape had elected to take over the lesson. As expected, he was none too happy when he strolled into class, and it took him less than fifteen seconds to remark on the disorganization plaguing Lupin's teaching methods.

"Since there are no instructions or records—"

Just then, Potter burst through the door.

"Sorry I'm late, Professor Lupin, I—" Potter paused. Professor Snape was looking up at him from the teacher's desk with a blank stare, but his eyes seemed especially malicious. Ankaa watched with rabid fascination as Potter fumbled around, asking about Professor Lupin.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

Potter remained frozen by the door.

"Is the idea of a substitute teacher so foreign to him?" Ankaa mumbled to Blaise, who gave her a small grin.

"Where's Professor Lupin?" Potter asked, glancing around the room as if Lupin would pop up from a dark corner and cradle the Boy Who Lived and protect him from Snape's ever so vicious glare.

"He says he is feeling too ill to teach today," said Snape with a twisted smile. "I believe I told you to sit down?"

Potter didn't move. He kept asking questions about Lupin's illness when Snape finally took away five more points and threatened to make it fifty if Potter didn't sit. The threat of docking points must have finally gotten through to him because he reluctantly moved into his seat, glaring at the Potions Professor all the while.

"As I was saying before Potter interrupted, Professor Lupin has not left any record of the topics you have covered so far—"

"Please, sir, we've done Boggarts, Red Caps, Kappas, and Grindylows," Granger butted in quickly, "and we're just about to start—"

"Be quiet," Snape said coldly.

Blaise gave a quiet snort, sharing a smile of pure amusement with Ankaa.

"Music to my ears," he whispered, keeping his head low to hide his amusement from Snape.

"I did not ask for information. I was merely commenting on Professor Lupin's lack of organization."

Some of the students looked personally affronted by the statement, but Ankaa could not help but reflect on the truth behind it. True, Lupin seemed like he didn't keep notes on his teaching lessons but Ankaa supposed there was a method to his madness. Besides, he was the first of their DADA teachers that actually taught them something worthwhile. Practical applications of DADA were a blessing, even if there was no organization.

"Miss Granger," Snape said in a voice that was deadly calm after she had interrupted him for a third (or three hundredth) time. "I was under the impression that I was taking this class, not you. And I am telling you all to turn to page three hundred and ninety-four." Snape glanced around and growled, "All of you! Now!"

Ah, he's in a bad mood. Ankaa flipped to the page quickly, skimming over the page quickly in case Snape asked a question. They hadn't learned about werewolves yet, so being unprepared when facing Snape was out of the question.

Lo and behold, soon after Ankaa had finished reading through the first couple of pages, Snape posed a question. "How do we distinguish the difference between a true wolf and a werewolf?" He looked at Ankaa's raised hand, and momentarily she thought he would ask her, before Granger's hand shot up and she answered.

"Please, sir." Ankaa banged her head on her book when Granger spoke out of turn again. She put her hand up as well as Granger continued, "The werewolf differs from the true wolf in many small ways. The snout of a—"

"This is the second time you've spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Have you not yet grasped the concept of speaking only when spoken to?" said Snape coolly, "Five more points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for being an insufferable know-it-all."

Overall, Ankaa would say the class was an excellent one. Those who knew how to deal with Snape were fine, but those who liked to rebel against authority in the most ludicrous way possible (like Weasley, Potter, Patil and Thomas) were in trouble. They all suffered various states of humiliation, with Weasley getting the worst treatment out of them all, at least by Gryffindor standards, when he was sentenced to detention with Snape. He had tried defending Granger's inability to keep her mouth shut.

Ultimately though, they were all assigned an essay about spotting and killing werewolves that were to be handed to Snape on Monday. He claimed it was time for someone to take charge and steer the class in the right direction.

"That wasn't as bad as I thought it would be," Ankaa commented to Zabini as they left the class. "I wonder why we started with werewolves though."

Notes:

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Revised (23/03/21)