They had split into two groups, Cassie lead one, Raimond the other. Whilst Cassie was searching the perimeter of the forbidden forest, Raimond was leading his search party round the shores of the lake.
They had been scouring the grounds for over an hour when a piercing scream lit up the night, just when they were going to give up hope.
"Elena!" Raimond bellowed, immediately recognising the cry, his voice desperate with worry. "Elena are you alright, where are you?"
"I'm fine," came a wavering shout. "I've found her, she's over here. Oh fuck, Raimond, she's over here."
He was the first to reach them and he felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped out.
Sprawled on the ground, limbs sticking out at odd angles, but not looking broken- was Poppy. Her eyes were closed as if sleeping, but more likely unconscious. Her cloak was pooled underneath her, only her uniform offering protection from the November chill. But the most shocking thing of all was the series of regulation, grotesque cuts scored into every inch of her exposed flesh.
Raimond kneeled down beside her, placing a hand on her forearm, she was ice cold. He pulled back and looked at the deep red blood that came off on his palm.
"She's breathing," he said, removing his cloak. He wrapped her in it and scooped her up into his arms as gently as he could.
"We heard screaming," came an exasperated shout, laboured with the exertion of running- it sounded like Cassie.
"That was Elena," Raimond said. "We've found Poppy."
"Oh thank Merlin," Cassie cried, sprinting toward his voice, as if she had to see with her own eyes.
"Don't touch her," Raimond instructed a little too forcefully. Cassie's eyes widened and she pulled back the cloak, in the light of the moonlight she could see the blood.
"Shit," she breathed, eyes wide. "We have to get back to the castle. Now."
"Cassiopeia Black," Professor Dippet started, looking over his round spectacles at her. "What do you have to say for yourself?" She was stood before his desk, not having been offered a chair, feet and hands together.
There was a smear of blood across her pale cheek.
"Absolutely nothing," she replied, head held high in defiance. "Sir," she added as an afterthought and deliberate slight.
"You assaulted a teacher, broke curfew, incited a rebellion in my school leading more than a dozen students into a restricted area at a very dangerous time and you have nothing to say for yourself?" he demanded.
"You would rather have let my cousin freeze to death, than send a search party of trained adults outside on a cold night," she replied, frostily. "I think, rather, what do you have to say for yourself?"
Dippet spluttered in anger, his chest buoying up as if to shout her down. She held up a hand to silence him, surprisingly effectively.
"Need I remind you that," she started, exaggeratedly looked at her watch. "That my family have sent letters to Lord Black, and every family member in power we have, telling them about tonight's occurrences and they would have received them exactly seven minutes ago. Surely you are wasting your time with me, you should be preparing for the wrath that Poppy being put in such danger whilst at your institution, will incur from the very people who are collectively this school's largest benefactors. Or are you not worried?"
Dippet took a deep, shaky breath.
"I see you understand my point headmaster, you may not agree with my actions, but dire situations call for drastic actions. I would rather die than there be even the slightest possibility that one of my family's life were in danger and I sat and listened to your rules. Perhaps rule breaking is not a quality you find acceptable in your head girl, but I stand up for what I believe in and I believe that counts for something."
"I can suspend you, you know. Expel you," he threatened as a last ditch attempt to gain back control in his own office. Cassiopeia let out a high laugh.
"Headmaster, you and I both know that I am going to leave this office, still very much a student and head girl and from this point on, when one of your students are in danger, you will rush to their aid, no matter the personal cost to yourself or your staff. For that is your job and Lord Black, head of the school governors will be very sorry to hear that you have been slacking."
She locked him with her icy gaze, as if daring him to contradict her.
"Isn't that right headmaster?"
I opened my eyes, or tried to at least.
I was blinded by the bright white of the hospital wing ceiling. I ached everywhere, especially my head. I took a moment to think about the visions Rowena had granted me.
I could feel her magic pulsing within me.
Gently, I shifted myself up on the pillows, cracking my eyes open. I gasped as I saw my arms. There was blood on the sheets, I cringed and ran my fingertips over one of the lines, and they disappeared, leaving nothing to suggest I had ever been wounded. Either they were surprisingly superficial or my wandless healing was better than I thought.
Carefully, with hands like feathers I ran my hands over all of the marred skin, restoring it to normal. My body was tired, but I shifted so I was sat up, legs dangling over the side of the bed, gently I lifted myself onto the balls of my feet, lifting my hands up high above my head to stretching out my back. I felt different, more aware of my own body.
Tentatively I walked across the deserted hospital wing; I ran a finger over the lock on the matron's office and smiled when I heard a familiar clicking noise. I gathered my clothes and wand, covered in blood, I saw. I cleaned them hastily with my wand, it was not as good as elf washing, but I just needed to be decent to walk to the tower.
"And where exactly do you think you're going, Black?"
So that's my stealthy escape ruined.
I spun around, Raimond was standing in the doorway, a relieved grin on his face. I did not have time to answer before he enveloped me in a hug.
"We were so worried," he sighed. "What happened to you?"
"I don't remember anything," I lied. "Well, I was walking back from the library, just before curfew and after that, nothing, nothing at all. What happened?" I listened to the story Raimond told, being careful to school my features to look surprised as he told me the bits I had seen.
It was only afterwards I realised the hospital wing was not as empty as I had thought, there was a boy behind those screens in the corner.
"Both of us on the same night," I said in a low voice. "Do they think them connected? Do they have any idea what happened?"
Raimond shrugged. "They have to be open to all possibilities. But they don't know anything. I was the one who carried you back to the castle, I've just been up in Dippet's office. All of your family are here, Madame Pomfrey couldn't find anything wrong with you… How do you feel?"
"Fine," I replied with a shrug. "A little confused but apart from that."
"Well you must have been out about 18 hours, what everyone wants to know is how you got to the lake and how, well if you and the Hufflepuff boy are connected. Surely there can't be two dodgy dealing going on the same night," he said.
The storm blew over relatively quickly, surprisingly when the Black family was involved, but new security measures had been put into place and the Blacks had agreed to take no further action.
Three days after I woke up in the hospital wing, I went down to see Tom as usual. He opened the door, had my chair placed near the fire and walked me over to it holding my hand.
"Are you alright Tom?" I asked with concern. He was pale; he looked like he hadn't been sleeping well.
"Of course," he said flippantly. "How are you?"
"I'm fantastic," I replied dryly, looking at his face. Gently I used my 'mental feelers', as I liked to call them to brush against Tom, so gently he wouldn't feel it. It was another technique I had learnt from the book on the mind arts.
Guilt.
Not particularly strong, but definitely there. Tom Riddle thought that he was the reason I had been found in the night? He thought perhaps he had caused what happened to me, he was the only who knew the cause of what happened to the Hufflepuff boy, and he thought it was the same for me. I of course did not correct him.
He knew I was at least a half-blood, so maybe he was doubting this chamber of his. And a little doubt was healthy. Especially for the likes of Tom Riddle.
(AN- sorry it's shorter than usual- A Level exams)