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"You find her?" Ares asked as soon as Draco entered the common room.
"Yeah. Where's my bag?" Ares handed it to him.
"Where is she?"
"Outside. She was in a bad way when I found her. Fortunately, she didn't realize I arrived after her."
Relief was Ares' main emotion. When Ray had suddenly said Artemis was running up to the North Tower, and that she was upset, he'd worried. Ray's boggart heritage gave him a sort of ESP, though it was rare he saw more than a moment or two ahead, and most of what he saw was bad. Or he could tell people's worst fears by looking at them. He'd once told Ares' what his was, but Ares had already known. He was Drow. What was there to fear worse than that?
Ray had said she was upset, and Ares had wanted to go to her. But he couldn't, and neither could Ray. Artemis would never let them see her cry, or even upset. So they'd sent Draco.
He hadn't wanted to go at first, but there must have been some sort of conscience that finally pushed him to. He'd probably helped Artemis more than either of them could have, much as Ares didn't like it. Artemis didn't want sympathy, and she wanted people to notice her emotions even less.
They met Artemis in the hall. She greeted them all with a smile, although Ares caught her glancing questioningly at him and Ray. She might suspect, but she'd never know for sure.
"It's not that bad," she said encouragingly to Ray. They'd convinced him he'd have to show his face no matter how light it was. He wasn't liking it. Looking at him, Ares was reminded that even though Ray had been his best friend since they'd both been seven, he'd rarely seen his friend's face. Ray was as pale and sallow as the last time his face had been visible, but more pinched. He'd been thin even as a boy, but he'd managed to get even thinner, more skeletal. When he opened his mouth you could see his canines, which seemed unusually pointy. Both his eyes and his hair were a non-descript dark brown, although Ares always expected them to be black for some reason.
Most of the Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh years were already there when they arrived. He noticed Apollo, surrounded by girls from both Houses. Apollo didn't pay a lot of attention to girls, being more interested in his studies, but Ares could tell he was enjoying his popularity.
They found seats together near the back, behind two boys and a girl. He felt rather than saw Artemis tense.
"What?" he asked quietly. Silver letters appeared, and told him. So that was Harry Potter. Even secluded at Wildmoor as he had been, Ares had heard of the boy. That he and his friends had been the cause of Artemis' distress did noting to endear the boy to him. He resolved to ask Draco about the group later.
Professor Snape appeared and called the roll. Ares knew about him only from what the twins had said. He was as Ares had envisioned him. Tall, dour, and mean looking, the teacher had greasy black hair and spoke in a monotone. After an hour of staring blindly at the chalk board, his first class as a wizard was done. Around him, the other students has scribbled furiously. He didn't need to. Artemis had devised a spell that took notes for her, noting anything important or which she didn't know. She'd built him a copy of it last year as a birthday present. So he sat and only half listened as the teacher droned.
Beside him, he could see Artemis and Ray playing. They played only the simplest games, the ones that you just needed a piece of parchment and a quill for. When Artemis had still been fairly young - only about ten - she'd been badly hurt in a flying accident. To make the weeks spent in the hospital wing more bearable, the teachers had given her a spell attached to a smooth river rock. It made a small area, about a foot square, into a magical chalk board. Brushing it with an index finger made a dull gold mark on whatever surface the stone sat on, and a swipe of the palm erased it. Without looking directly at the space, she and Ray seemed to be playing hangman. Ray had always been bad at that game. He'd got an 'a' in the third space. It was a six letter word. Those two facts, combined with it being Artemis, meant the word was 'dragon'. Ray would figure it out eventually.
He suspected the teachers at Wildmoor had thought Artemis lost or destroyed the stone long ago. To make sure, knowing her as they did, they'd added a decay spell to the rock, so it would start to wear out after a few weeks. Artemis had started to decipher the spell and found it. Her magic was too different to do anything about it without risking damage to the stone, but she'd come up with a spell he could do. They often worked like that, Artemis designing spells for him to do. It made mayhem at Wildmoor so much easier.
Keeping one eye on the teacher, he reached across Ray and filled in the letters. Artemis and Ray glared at him. I would have got it, Ray wrote. Artemis wiped it off. Have more patience, she added. she was one to talk.
The end of class was soon heralded by the ringing of a giant, unseen gong, which had somehow been quieted to an acceptable level without being muffled. Ares grabbed his parchment and the quill which had fallen back onto the desk and stuffed them into his bag. Well, they wouldn't actually be in his bag. The opening for it was just the entrance to another place which wasn't really a place, where he stored his things. Whatever he needed jumped into his hand as soon as he put it through the opening. It was very useful, although he had no idea how it worked. Well, he had some idea, but only the vaguest. The teachers back at Wildmoor had made it for him, as a twelfth birthday present.
Divination was next on Ares' schedule, but as he followed Ray and Draco up the many flights of stairs from the Potions dungeon to the Divinition tower, he wasn't looking forward to it. Draco had described it as an excellent class for catching up on sleep, if you could learn to ignore the teacher, who was apparently a bit of a psychopath. Draco didn't seem too happy about it either. It was the first year, he explained, thst they were expected to take it with the Gryffindors. It might have been bearable, but neither of the twins would be there. For some reason, Apollo had opted for Muggle Studies instead, and Artemis had decided to try French. That she spoke the language perfectly, due to some odd genetic language of the elves, meant nothing to Artemis. Sometimes he wondered if there was something about her crossbred heritage that had unhinged her.
When he entered through the trap door, he found that the Divination classroom was - thankfully - like no other. Large, overstuffed armchairs were grouped around little coffee tables. Even though the tower room should have been bright, scarves over the windows, a large fire, and too much incense made for a smoky, dark feel. And it smelled bad.
"I predict severe allergy and asthma attacks in this room." Ray said as they settled into seats. A few minutes later they were joined, much to their dismay, by Potter and the red-haired kid. They didn't look too happy about it either.
"I believe you may be right, my dear," breathed a voice from behind one of the armchairs. A funny-looking little witch, dressed in bright gypsy-style clothes and wearing thick glasses that made her eyes look huge, emerged. "Yes, I sense you are a true diviner."
Draco caught Ares' eye. Two sets of light grey eyes rolled expressively. You didn't need to be a seer to predict the smelly smoke would make someone violently sick. Unbidden, an image of Artemis, who had a strong stomach for movement and carnage but none for bad smells, rose in his mind. In it, she was being horribly sick all over the thick embroidered rug. It didn't make for a pretty image.
"The fates have informed me that we are to begin scrying, ducklings,"
the teacher carolled to the class, many of whom looked rapturous but an
equal number of whom looked nearly dead. "Please open your books to page
1226."