Moody & the Map
Hot, rotted milk, trapped in a thermos for days smelt better than the Chamber of Secrets. Hermione, who had finally worn Siria down, emptied her stomach by the Chamber doors. She clenched her hands to her mouth and nose then cried through them "What in the name?" as she gagged. Siria wrinkled her nose at the smell.
"Suppose I've gotten a little used to it." She shrugged. Hermione coughed and wheezed so hard that Siria closed the door. "Well, you wanted to see it, there it is."
"No!" Hermione shook her head so furiously that her bushy hair waved madly. "I didn't come down here to stop at the door." She took hold of Siria's arm. "We talked about this— I deserve to see."
The viper Siria summoned hissed and the doors opened again. Hermione hurried them to body of the decaying basilisk. She pulled her dragonhide gloves from her pocket then tapped Siria with them. "You want me to get it?" Siria asked, wide-eyed. Hermione's brown eyes were full of water. "Maybe you ought to learn that Bubble-Head Charm soon." Siria tsked, but took the gloves. With an almost gentle tug, the fang squelched from the rotting jaws of the basilisk. A toxic looking yellow foam bubbled up from the hole. Siria grabbed Hermione by the arm and ran through the muck of the Chamber, back to the door.
"Here!" Siria shoved the fang into Hermione's hands as she picked her Firebolt from the wall by the entrance. She yanked the gloves off, "these too. I'm not bringing you until you learn that Charm." Hermione shoved her gloves back into her pocket.
"Honestly, I'm more surprised that you don't need it." Hermione confessed as she rubbed her nose. "I can still smell it," she hacked.
Siria shook her head, but mounted the broom, with Hermione behind her. They flew up the slide and back to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Myrtle raised an eyebrow at their entrance. "Aren't you early? Cutting it a little short?" Her moping voice asked. "Must be confident now."
"I'll see you tomorrow Myrtle." Siria shrugged her off to look at the Marauder's Map.
[Book: B4, 466-467 Bartemius Crouch is in Snape's office, so they decide to investigate]
One moment, Hermione and Siria were standing, hand in hand, in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom; the next, there was only Myrtle, who giggled into her hand while the door opened then closed. With her Firebolt slung over her shoulder, Siria followed Hermione, who had her nose the Map on Crouch's name. As being invisible didn't make them quiet, the two walked a little slower than they did when they rushed to classes. Whenever the heel of Siria's boot clicked against the floor, Siria winced and Hermione's grip in her hand tightened for a second.
"PEEVES!" Filch cried (B4, 468). Hermione and Siria looked behind them, to the trail of small, drop sized holes in the floor. They looked each other up and down until Siria pointed to Hermione's bag. There was a fresh, fine point hole in the corner. The basilisk fang had leaked for who knew who long and it was more corrosive than either of them had anticipated. Hermione thrust the map into Siria's hands and let go of Siria. In a blink, Hermione was gone. Siria looked to the map, where she saw Hermione's dot take off for the stairs, but she wasn't the only dot.
Siria rushed to press herself against the wall as Severus Snape entered the corridor. There was a quick snap and Siria clattered into the wall. Her heel had snapped. She dropped to her knees, put the map in her mouth, and crawled with her broom in one hand, away from the fresher holes. Snape narrowed his eyes at the spot Siria's heel had snapped. She pressed herself to the wall a little down and unlaced her boots. Snape asked Flich for an explanation as Siria removed the broken heeled boot. Flinch shrieked and cried about the holes in the floor, the most recent ones were still giving off thin ribbons of smoke. Silent as she could, Siria removed the other boot. She tied them together as Snape and Filch stopped just after the end of the trail of holes.
"It couldn't have been Peeves— someone was in my supply cupboard!" Snape argued with Filch (B4, 469). With the quietest breath she could, Siria hung her boots around her shoulders and rose back to her socked feet.
"But Peeves couldn't have—" Filch sounded like Christmas was cancelled (B4,469).
"I know!" Snape snapped. "Only a wizard could…" (B4, 469). Snape's eyes narrowed as he scanned the corridor while Siria crept toward the staircase Hermione had dashed toward.
[Book: B4, 470-472, 474 Moody shows up. Snape says a student may have broken into his office, that he isn't hiding anything and that Dumbledore trusts him. Moody then tells Snape that Snape is free to prowl away, though Snape leaves and they hear a door slam]
"Close shave, Potter," Moody muttered (B4, 474). Siria opened her mouth to add "Black," but decided it was better not to correct the only person that knew she was there. She sighed and removed the Marauder's Map from under her arm to move it into her boot.
"What're you carrying a battered old thing like that for?" Moody asked. Siria mouthed wordlessly until she realized there wasn't a lie Moody wouldn't see through and hung her head.
"It's a map of the school— most of it at least." She confessed as Moody clunked up the stairs beside her.
"You can't map Hogwarts, Potter." Moody told her.
"I can't," Siria emphasized. "Hogwarts, a History might not be all that accurate, as Hermione's found." Siria allowed herself a small smirk. "Let's just say, I know some very talented people."
"Mind if I see that map?" Moody asked just outside the corridor to Gryffindor Tower. Reflexively, Siria hesitated, but Moody had helped her with the first task and argued Siria wouldn't have put her name in. He was also the only person that proposed a method for how her name got in that didn't involve her. She pinched the parchment between her fingers, but handed the Marauder's Map to him.
[Book: B4, 475-478 Siria tells him that she saw Crouch in Snape's office. Moody tells her that Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark Wizards. When he asks to borrow the Map, Siria is a little reluctant, but agrees. He tells Siria she should consider being an Auror and she returns to her dorm]
Light snuck through the crack of Siria's opened trunk, which she hurried into. "What took you so long?" Hermione asked as she continued to put the basilisk venom into flasks. She pointed her wand over her shoulder at cast the Revealing Charm.
"What took me so long?" Siria repeated. "Maybe it was—" A grumble in the room caused Siria to drop her voice, so she didn't wake the others. "Maybe it was the fact my heel broke and I still suck at silent casting or the fact Snape and Moody showed up!"
"Moody!" Hermione paused her flashing to look over her shoulder at Siria "But he can see you!" Her eyes were wide with worry and Siria sat down.
"It's fine. He has the Marauder's Map though," she waved off Hermione's continued worry. "It's fine. I'll pick it up in a few weeks or something."
Patience masked the irritation that simmered somewhere inside Siria. It was so distant that it almost felt like she was irritated for someone else. Normally she felt warm when she was upset, fiery even, but she felt like ice. She shivered in the frosty yard of her nightmares. Siria clutched herself in her arms as her breath formed before her. It was silly of her and she knew, but she called for Sirius. A frigid laugh cut through the cold and into her bones. The laugh was forced and full of displeasure. Lead like weight sunk into her throat and a voice that wasn't quite hers, but felt like it could almost be, repeated "these things take time." Though, she couldn't quite remember what "these things" were.
In the oval office of Headmaster Dumbledore, Siria fell from her stool and clattered, with it, to the floor. She bolted to her feet and withdrew her wand before Cassius Warrington's face came into focus. Siria tucked her wand into her jacket and massaged her temples. "I can't," she yawned as she picked the stool up only to sit down on the floor.
Tired, she sprawled out on the floor. "Why can't we have Time Turners?" Siria yawned. She rubbed her eyes under her glasses. "I wan' a Time Turner," she pouted.
"I told you that you didn't have to come if you weren't going to practice too," Warrington reminded her.
"'S no—" a huge yawn escaped Siria "fair," she finished. Dumbledore patted Warrington's shoulder.
"It's fine, Mr. Warrington. I do believe we are done, though, Ms. Potter-Black, if you can spare a moment, I'd like a word." Dumbledore told them. Warrington spared them a glance over his shoulder before he stepped out.
As refusing a word with the Headmaster, who had given you private lessons over summer and was continuing to keep your work sharp seemed like a lot of effort, Siria propped herself up on her tired arms. She leaned her head against the wall and knew she wasn't giving off the slightest illusion of composure. Dumbledore sat in nearby armchair with his fingers linked. He looked over his half-moon glasses at her. "It was very wise of you to request I teach Mr. Warrington Fiendfyre, rather than showing him yourself." He told her. She gave a bobbing nod.
"Siria, as Fiendfyre has nothing to do with the Tournament, I am free to help Mr. Warrington learn, and you're free to use the time to sleep. You may want to consider using Thursday nights to sleep as well." Dumbledore suggested. Siria startled a little and failed to look otherwise. "I'm also sure that, while you will be missed on the Quidditch field, your skills will not dull." His silver eyebrows knitted together with concern. "Siria, while it is good to be so involved, your fellow students will understand you taking a step back. Ms. Granger and Mr. Diggory would be more than happy to put a notice in the Hogwarts Herald that 'Ask Siria' is on a small hiatus as you prepare for the second task."
Another yawn escaped Siria as she attempted a futile argument. "A few weeks" had spiraled into a month without even mentioning getting the Marauder's Map back from Moody. Instead of an argument, Siria sighed "how?" she asked. "How can I—" a yawn caught her, "I— drop anything?"
"We can start with a letter to Sirius. I understand he has your best interest at heart, but his additional assignments seem to be wearing you down more than 'keeping your mind sharp'." There was a sympathetic twinkle in Dumbledore's eye as he rose up. "Now, as I see it, you could do with tomorrow in the Hospital Wing." He extended a hand to her.
"But it's Friday," Siria pressed her head to her knees. She couldn't miss lessons, she had double Potions. Siria's head raised up and she took Dumbledore's hand. Any excuse to miss Potions was a brilliant one.
Madam Pomfrey had expected Siria prepared the curtains around a bed. Dumbledore saw Siria inside and thanked Madam Pomfrey before he excused himself. There was something about the Hospital Wing that made Siria tired. She supposed it was how often she actually slept restfully that the simple act of being there was enough to make the room sway. Without changing, she curled beneath the blanket and was half asleep by the time the door locked.
She managed to mutter about Hermione and Ron. Madam Pomfrey placed Siria's glasses on the bedside table. "Don't worry, they'll know," she closed the curtains around Siria's bed. "Oh, what you put yourself through…" was the last thing Siria heard before the world went dark and night silent.