Guin ran her hand through her hair, green eyes narrowing as she glared at L'Argent. "You want me to /what/?" the girl demanded, one eyebrow raising in unconscious imitation of Angeline.
The boy raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, it'll be better for both of you, to apologize – you know you hate fighting; you're both upset, I can tell—"
"But she started it! She didn't want to go along with the pixies—"
"C'mon, Guin, it's just as much your fault as hers.. If you'd both just /apologize/, you could do it at the same time, neither one of you'd have to go first—"
"Drop it, L'Argent!"
And, being a Slytherin, he was not inclined to pursue lost causes. With a shrug, L'Argent yawned elaborately. "Suit yourself. But I think you're both being stupid." Then, to change the subject and avert further trouble (he could see Guin's eyes starting to narrow again, and a dangerous red color flushing her face) he asked her questions from their history class, in preparation for the exams. "When was the official Wizard Separation Act?"
"Oh, no.. Can we study for another subject?" Guin wanted to know, lounging in one of the couches in the common room.
"No. You're never going to want to study for history, might as well get it over with."
"L'Argent, you sound so damn responsible – I'm afraid you're growing up!"
"No!" he yelped, looking frightened, "No no no! Anything but that!"
"I see.. accountancy in your future!" Guin said, in sepulchral tones, waving her hands at him. L'Argent pretended to faint, attracting curious and disparaging stares from several of the older Slytherins and a sneer from Malfoy. Guin folded up her books with a sniff, and shoved L'Argent good-naturedly as she headed for the first year girls' dorms.
Rilla had become quite chummy with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, two of the Gryffindors who were, in Guin's educated opinion, quite silly. They were apt to giggle things that seemed, to Guin, rather foolish. Still, if Rilla wanted to befriend them, that was her problem. They'd probably drive her insane with their incessant chatter, and it would serve her right, too. /She/ wasn't about to say anything to a "friend" like that – L'Argent was wrong, of course, and it was Rilla that needed to grow up.
Exams crept up on them and then tackled, dragging their claws through the nerves of the students. Many of the teachers seemed to think that it was absolutely necessary to prowl between the desks and make them as nervous as possible. To make matters more difficult, it was unusually hot in the classrooms, and Guin's hair plastered to her neck as she stared longingly out the window, attempting to remember the correct incantations for Levitating Charms and other equally "useful" spells.
Though, for the most part, Guin's exams went well, there were some spectacular pratfalls, made by herself and others. Pansy Parkinson's pineapple, which she was supposed to make tap dance across Flitwick's desk, insisted on performing some odd sort of bunny hop in concert with an apple that happened to be there as well. In Transfiguration, Guin's mouse, which was supposed to be a snuffbox, somehow retained a foot, and dragged itself forlornly along the table. The Forgetfulness potion in Snape's class went slightly better; she concocted a draft so powerful that Goyle could not remember his name, though, as L'Argent whispered to her, he probably couldn't remember it normally, anyway.
Once Snape had restored Goyle's memory, fighting a grin from his face, he dismissed the class. As they left, Guin and L'Argent could hear Potter and Weasley complaining about Snape. "They're really not very fair to him," Guin said after a moment's hesitation, "He's not as horrible as they make him out to be." They both peered thoughtfully after the retreating Gryffindors.
"Yeah," L'Argent said absently, "It's almost like they suspect him of something."
"You don't think...?" Guin began.
"What if—"
"They think Snape would steal—"
"The Philosopher's Stone?"
And, abruptly, they knew that was exactly what the Dream Team thought.
"But that's just batty!" Guin exclaimed, "Completely bonkers."
"I know," L'Argent said fervently, as they walked to the next exam.
Finally, it was all over, and the two children raced each other down the stairs and out into the sun. Guin rolled the sleeves of her robe up to her shoulders as they reached the outdoors, and after a moment, L'Argent did the same. They stretched and examined the broad lawn, which was filled with students mingling and enjoying the rest of the day off. There were Potter and Weasley and Granger, their heads together and talking about something; there was Pansy, torturing Malfoy; there were Lavender and Parvati, and there – that was Rilla.
The girl stood off by herself, looking worried about something. L'Argent turned a stern silver gaze on her, and Guin sighed. "All right, all right! I'll talk to her." Instantly, his expression turned smug, but Guin ignored him and walked to Rilla.
"Hi," she said uncertainly.
"Hi," Rilla replied.
They both looked at the ground for a bit.
"We're friends again?"
"Friends," was the decisive reply.
"Hey, let's go push the Weasley twins into the pond!" Guin said.
"Race you!" Rilla said.
In the end, they enlisted L'Argent's help, and managed to surreptitiously nudge Fred and George off balance as they tickled the giant squid, toppling them into the shallows. With yelps of outrage, they spluttered and attempted to stand up; their friend Lee Jordan took a cheerful revenge and ducked all three first years into the water as well. Shrieking with laughter, Rilla floundered in the murky water, and somehow ended up seated precariously on one of the squid's tentacles. Once she saw her position, the girl screeched and threw herself in the opposite direction.
The assembled students laughed uproariously at the debacle, and Guin thought she even saw some of the teachers smiling. Of course, the expressions were merely those corner twitchings of the lip that professors used when children were doing something funny, but prohibited; designed not to actually approve of the conduct, but unable to help themselves in any way. Professor Flitwick, for one, seemed to find it extremely amusing, his high-pitched giggles echoing through the crowd.
And so, later that night, sopping wet but grinning from ear to ear, Guin returned to the castle, leaving damp footprints in her wake as she traveled through the castle. Her robes tangled around her legs, sticking to them, and after a bit of that, she was rather glad to reach the common room. Tucking strands of saturated hair behind her ears, Guin spoke the password through chattering teeth. "C-cottonm-mouth." She changed into clean robes, but not before casting a drying spell on the wet ones.
Although for a time she curled up on her bed, Guin did not sleep. She, Rilla, and L'Argent had a meeting to go exploring that night, and perhaps cook up an end of the year prank. Rilla did not want to be involved in the execution, but had no problem with planning: she had a Machiavellian twist that rivaled the Slytherins for sneakiness, at times. And so, at the appointed time, Guin and L'Argent slipped from the Common Room and met Rilla where they had promised to.
"The Dream Team's up to something," Rilla whispered, "They've been acting weird all afternoon.."
Guin and L'Argent glanced at each other. "We think," Guin said, "That they suspect Snape's trying to steal the stone."
"Snape? That's ludicrous!" Rilla exclaimed. "He may be nasty, but he wouldn't do that.."
"Yeah, I know. C'mon, let's go. We're going outside tonight."
In her pocket, Guin knew, Rilla was carrying the crystal. Though none of them had figured out what to do with the thing, it was comforting to have it, somehow. It fit nicely into a magicked pouch inside the robes, and hung against Rilla's leg. It was fairly easy to slip through the hallways; they were practiced at it by now. Filch must have been patrolling another area of the castle, for he was nowhere in sight. Outside, the night was cool and the grass dewy, it slipped under their feet and soaked the edges of their robes.
Suddenly, Rilla drew close to them. "I— I can feel it – the eyes – back, we have to go back in the castle—"
"Rilla, what's wrong?" L'Argent and Guin asked together, before a new voice spoke out of the darkness, a voice that was oddly familiar.
"Stupefy!"
A flash of light, then Guin could feel herself crumpling to the ground, but it was a fleeting sensation, enveloped in overwhelming blackness.
-----
The sound of someone shifting next to her woke Guin from the stunned trance. She rose, muscles aching from where they had fallen, and looked blearily around her. She was sitting on the ground, with the dampness of the grass soaking through her robes, and L'Argent was waking as well, looking as terrible as she felt. But – something – someone – was missing. "Rilla!" Guin exclaimed, "Where's Rilla?" That startled L'Argent out of his daze, and they both looked frantically around them.
Rilla, however, was nowhere to be found. "Christ," L'Argent breathed, "Shit. She's gone!"
"What do we – what do we do?" Guin said, trying to keep her voice level and calm. It wasn't working very well, and she could feel laughter of the hysterical variety bubbling in the back of her throat. Forcing it down with a swallow, she turned to him and nodded decisively. "Right. We'll help each other to our feet and – and tell the teachers? No – whoever took her can't have gone far, yet—"
"Yeah.. no Apparating on the Hogwarts grounds."
"So.. the only logical place would be the forest.. But where? Wait – what's that?"
Then, on the ground, they saw the crystal. It had been pulsing dully, soft enough so that the untrained eye would mistake it for a rock. But when Guin and L'Argent looked at it, it suddenly burst into the brightness that it had at first displayed, but now there was something different: in the depths of the clear rock, they could see a forest scene: dark figures, on the very island in the lake that Guin and Rilla had discovered.
"C-could Rilla have done that?" It wasn't very comforting to note that L'Argent sounded just as panicky as she felt. "Or is it a trap of some sort?"
"I don't know," Guin said, "But we have to rescue her. Come on!"
Then, L'Argent really did start laughing. He giggled until his sides hurt, and, wheezing, waved away her concerned gaze. "No – nothing's wrong – it's just that you – you sound like a Gryffindor. 'We have to rescue her.' It – it sounded like something out of a horrible B movie –" She was about to start laughing, too, but then glanced towards the darkness of the forest, which now looked menacing and brooding.
"Let's go – we're wasting time." They began walking.
The boy raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Look, it'll be better for both of you, to apologize – you know you hate fighting; you're both upset, I can tell—"
"But she started it! She didn't want to go along with the pixies—"
"C'mon, Guin, it's just as much your fault as hers.. If you'd both just /apologize/, you could do it at the same time, neither one of you'd have to go first—"
"Drop it, L'Argent!"
And, being a Slytherin, he was not inclined to pursue lost causes. With a shrug, L'Argent yawned elaborately. "Suit yourself. But I think you're both being stupid." Then, to change the subject and avert further trouble (he could see Guin's eyes starting to narrow again, and a dangerous red color flushing her face) he asked her questions from their history class, in preparation for the exams. "When was the official Wizard Separation Act?"
"Oh, no.. Can we study for another subject?" Guin wanted to know, lounging in one of the couches in the common room.
"No. You're never going to want to study for history, might as well get it over with."
"L'Argent, you sound so damn responsible – I'm afraid you're growing up!"
"No!" he yelped, looking frightened, "No no no! Anything but that!"
"I see.. accountancy in your future!" Guin said, in sepulchral tones, waving her hands at him. L'Argent pretended to faint, attracting curious and disparaging stares from several of the older Slytherins and a sneer from Malfoy. Guin folded up her books with a sniff, and shoved L'Argent good-naturedly as she headed for the first year girls' dorms.
Rilla had become quite chummy with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown, two of the Gryffindors who were, in Guin's educated opinion, quite silly. They were apt to giggle things that seemed, to Guin, rather foolish. Still, if Rilla wanted to befriend them, that was her problem. They'd probably drive her insane with their incessant chatter, and it would serve her right, too. /She/ wasn't about to say anything to a "friend" like that – L'Argent was wrong, of course, and it was Rilla that needed to grow up.
Exams crept up on them and then tackled, dragging their claws through the nerves of the students. Many of the teachers seemed to think that it was absolutely necessary to prowl between the desks and make them as nervous as possible. To make matters more difficult, it was unusually hot in the classrooms, and Guin's hair plastered to her neck as she stared longingly out the window, attempting to remember the correct incantations for Levitating Charms and other equally "useful" spells.
Though, for the most part, Guin's exams went well, there were some spectacular pratfalls, made by herself and others. Pansy Parkinson's pineapple, which she was supposed to make tap dance across Flitwick's desk, insisted on performing some odd sort of bunny hop in concert with an apple that happened to be there as well. In Transfiguration, Guin's mouse, which was supposed to be a snuffbox, somehow retained a foot, and dragged itself forlornly along the table. The Forgetfulness potion in Snape's class went slightly better; she concocted a draft so powerful that Goyle could not remember his name, though, as L'Argent whispered to her, he probably couldn't remember it normally, anyway.
Once Snape had restored Goyle's memory, fighting a grin from his face, he dismissed the class. As they left, Guin and L'Argent could hear Potter and Weasley complaining about Snape. "They're really not very fair to him," Guin said after a moment's hesitation, "He's not as horrible as they make him out to be." They both peered thoughtfully after the retreating Gryffindors.
"Yeah," L'Argent said absently, "It's almost like they suspect him of something."
"You don't think...?" Guin began.
"What if—"
"They think Snape would steal—"
"The Philosopher's Stone?"
And, abruptly, they knew that was exactly what the Dream Team thought.
"But that's just batty!" Guin exclaimed, "Completely bonkers."
"I know," L'Argent said fervently, as they walked to the next exam.
Finally, it was all over, and the two children raced each other down the stairs and out into the sun. Guin rolled the sleeves of her robe up to her shoulders as they reached the outdoors, and after a moment, L'Argent did the same. They stretched and examined the broad lawn, which was filled with students mingling and enjoying the rest of the day off. There were Potter and Weasley and Granger, their heads together and talking about something; there was Pansy, torturing Malfoy; there were Lavender and Parvati, and there – that was Rilla.
The girl stood off by herself, looking worried about something. L'Argent turned a stern silver gaze on her, and Guin sighed. "All right, all right! I'll talk to her." Instantly, his expression turned smug, but Guin ignored him and walked to Rilla.
"Hi," she said uncertainly.
"Hi," Rilla replied.
They both looked at the ground for a bit.
"We're friends again?"
"Friends," was the decisive reply.
"Hey, let's go push the Weasley twins into the pond!" Guin said.
"Race you!" Rilla said.
In the end, they enlisted L'Argent's help, and managed to surreptitiously nudge Fred and George off balance as they tickled the giant squid, toppling them into the shallows. With yelps of outrage, they spluttered and attempted to stand up; their friend Lee Jordan took a cheerful revenge and ducked all three first years into the water as well. Shrieking with laughter, Rilla floundered in the murky water, and somehow ended up seated precariously on one of the squid's tentacles. Once she saw her position, the girl screeched and threw herself in the opposite direction.
The assembled students laughed uproariously at the debacle, and Guin thought she even saw some of the teachers smiling. Of course, the expressions were merely those corner twitchings of the lip that professors used when children were doing something funny, but prohibited; designed not to actually approve of the conduct, but unable to help themselves in any way. Professor Flitwick, for one, seemed to find it extremely amusing, his high-pitched giggles echoing through the crowd.
And so, later that night, sopping wet but grinning from ear to ear, Guin returned to the castle, leaving damp footprints in her wake as she traveled through the castle. Her robes tangled around her legs, sticking to them, and after a bit of that, she was rather glad to reach the common room. Tucking strands of saturated hair behind her ears, Guin spoke the password through chattering teeth. "C-cottonm-mouth." She changed into clean robes, but not before casting a drying spell on the wet ones.
Although for a time she curled up on her bed, Guin did not sleep. She, Rilla, and L'Argent had a meeting to go exploring that night, and perhaps cook up an end of the year prank. Rilla did not want to be involved in the execution, but had no problem with planning: she had a Machiavellian twist that rivaled the Slytherins for sneakiness, at times. And so, at the appointed time, Guin and L'Argent slipped from the Common Room and met Rilla where they had promised to.
"The Dream Team's up to something," Rilla whispered, "They've been acting weird all afternoon.."
Guin and L'Argent glanced at each other. "We think," Guin said, "That they suspect Snape's trying to steal the stone."
"Snape? That's ludicrous!" Rilla exclaimed. "He may be nasty, but he wouldn't do that.."
"Yeah, I know. C'mon, let's go. We're going outside tonight."
In her pocket, Guin knew, Rilla was carrying the crystal. Though none of them had figured out what to do with the thing, it was comforting to have it, somehow. It fit nicely into a magicked pouch inside the robes, and hung against Rilla's leg. It was fairly easy to slip through the hallways; they were practiced at it by now. Filch must have been patrolling another area of the castle, for he was nowhere in sight. Outside, the night was cool and the grass dewy, it slipped under their feet and soaked the edges of their robes.
Suddenly, Rilla drew close to them. "I— I can feel it – the eyes – back, we have to go back in the castle—"
"Rilla, what's wrong?" L'Argent and Guin asked together, before a new voice spoke out of the darkness, a voice that was oddly familiar.
"Stupefy!"
A flash of light, then Guin could feel herself crumpling to the ground, but it was a fleeting sensation, enveloped in overwhelming blackness.
-----
The sound of someone shifting next to her woke Guin from the stunned trance. She rose, muscles aching from where they had fallen, and looked blearily around her. She was sitting on the ground, with the dampness of the grass soaking through her robes, and L'Argent was waking as well, looking as terrible as she felt. But – something – someone – was missing. "Rilla!" Guin exclaimed, "Where's Rilla?" That startled L'Argent out of his daze, and they both looked frantically around them.
Rilla, however, was nowhere to be found. "Christ," L'Argent breathed, "Shit. She's gone!"
"What do we – what do we do?" Guin said, trying to keep her voice level and calm. It wasn't working very well, and she could feel laughter of the hysterical variety bubbling in the back of her throat. Forcing it down with a swallow, she turned to him and nodded decisively. "Right. We'll help each other to our feet and – and tell the teachers? No – whoever took her can't have gone far, yet—"
"Yeah.. no Apparating on the Hogwarts grounds."
"So.. the only logical place would be the forest.. But where? Wait – what's that?"
Then, on the ground, they saw the crystal. It had been pulsing dully, soft enough so that the untrained eye would mistake it for a rock. But when Guin and L'Argent looked at it, it suddenly burst into the brightness that it had at first displayed, but now there was something different: in the depths of the clear rock, they could see a forest scene: dark figures, on the very island in the lake that Guin and Rilla had discovered.
"C-could Rilla have done that?" It wasn't very comforting to note that L'Argent sounded just as panicky as she felt. "Or is it a trap of some sort?"
"I don't know," Guin said, "But we have to rescue her. Come on!"
Then, L'Argent really did start laughing. He giggled until his sides hurt, and, wheezing, waved away her concerned gaze. "No – nothing's wrong – it's just that you – you sound like a Gryffindor. 'We have to rescue her.' It – it sounded like something out of a horrible B movie –" She was about to start laughing, too, but then glanced towards the darkness of the forest, which now looked menacing and brooding.
"Let's go – we're wasting time." They began walking.