A/N 2: Thank you soo much for the amazing love you've shown to this fic. It warmed my heart truly! Here is the next chapter for you awesome guys, and I sincerely hope that you like it. I do not own Harry Potter; it solely belongs to J.K. Rowling!
Warnings: Drama, sarcasm, language.
"Psst."
Nicholas' eye snapped towards the direction where the sound had likely come. But, there was no one. From the way, the other staff members seemed oblivious to the voice, it felt he was only one who'd heard it.
Hmm, must be his hallucination. He was always on alert ever since he came back to Hogwarts.
He continued to eat the delicious steak, trying to immerse himself in the aroma of his spices, rather than the picture that was popping into his mind, again and again.
The image of Barty and Harriet laughing together when he'd entered the class this morning.
The grip on his fork unknowingly tightened, and his knuckles turned white.
"Professor Nicholas, could you please pass the gravy?" Professor McGonagall's voice broke his thundering thoughts, and he gave her a polite smile as he passed the gravy to her.
"Thank you." He simply nodded.
"I heard about the new defence class the Headmaster told you to start with," she started the conversation. It had been a few weeks since he'd joined the school, but it was the first time she talked to him.
In his short time, he'd learnt one absolute thing—Professor McGonagall was a woman of her words. She spoke less, but whenever she did, the advice complimented her sharp wit.
"Yes, we did. I agree with Professor Dumbledore's decision; I think the children should be able to defend themselves, at all times."
He noticed the slightest of frowns marring her features.
"What do you think about it, Professor?" He asked softly. He wanted to know how the other professors would make changes in their curriculum according to the Headmaster's request. He wanted to know about their opinions on this defence club. After all, they were all teachers, wanting the best for their students.
"I'm not against the students learning how to fight. It is an admirable thought. After all, everyone should know how to protect themselves; danger can come from anywhere," Professor McGonagall spoke in deep thought. Her words held an even deeper meaning which Nicholas didn't understand right away.
"The circumstances under which they are learning it, however, are entirely too dangerous. And not to my liking, might I add."
"You don't want the war to happen?"
"Who wants war, Professor? Tell me," she counter-questioned.
"The ones who have the means to fight it, the will to gain, and the heart to lose what they hold dear," Nicholas replied.
"That is where you are wrong because there are never any gains in a war. Only losses. And people are never ready to lose something that they hold close to them; it is simply not in human nature." McGonagall corrected him. Professor Nicholas was intrigued now.
Wars held different perspectives for different people; he wanted to hear hers.
The ones who are power-hungry, only start wars. They do not fight it themselves but use men like pawns. And they do it because of the insecurities they are hiding, wanting nothing but to be superior and above all. That is what war is about, Professor. A means to gain power." She took a deep breath as if she was deep in thought. The action alone made her look wise beyond years.
"Other lives are put at risk. So, I can't blame either of you for taking such desperate measures to protect our children."
It was a noble thought, indeed. While what she'd said was true, his opinion wasn't wrong either. He had seen and suffered the effects of war, first-hand. He had lived his years in fear, not knowing when the bombs might drop, not knowing whether he would survive another day.
He had seen the war that had almost burned the orphanage down to its last bricks; he had witnessed the suffering and loss himself. He'd felt the pang of hunger churning his stomach into tight knots. But he'd also witnessed how the rich kids and people thrived off of the helplessness of the poorer.
He remembered the day when he'd stolen the loaf of bread from the brand-new bakery, only because he was so hungry. Mrs Cole hadn't been able to feed all the children at the orphanage, funds were kept aside for the little ones, and the remaining ones had to fight each other for their survival.
The memory was still clear as day in his mind, his hands had bled from where the owner of the bakery had whipped them. It wasn't his fault that he didn't have money, it wasn't his fault that his hunger got the best of him and he was forced to steal.
That day, he'd vowed to be always prepared for the war. No matter the circumstances, because wars are always inevitable. It is a part of human nature too.
"And where do you stand?" It was a trick question, but he had to know where her true loyalties lay.
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him; this conversation had turned out to be unexpectedly more serious than she would have thought. But there was something about this young Professor beside her, that made her trust him a little. Recently, she had seen the obvious prejudice against Slytherins, and also, Headmaster's blatant favour towards Gryffindors. Especially the four young pranksters.
She had kept her shut till now, but it was becoming a regular occurrence. That did not sit well with her, not one bit. They were all students and needed to be treated equally.
She needed to take a stand for all her students, and she was willing to do better. Thus, the conversation with Professor Nicholas. She had heard how much he hated the never-ending house rivalry, and how well he was handling it. She hoped to learn something from him because she knew that she had made mistakes by not standing for other houses till now.
His question, however, was entirely too bold to ask at this point. It seemed that he didn't care about the fact that the Headmaster was sitting only a few seats away from them.
Very cunning, indeed.
"It would be entirely too foolish of me to take a stand without knowing the Dark side's demands and motives," Professor McGonagall said a very calm and collected tone. Her words were stern.
"A wise decision," Nicholas nodded.
"Maybe I would meet him someday. I would personally ask what he wants with this war, what he desires to win," Professor McGonagall mumbled. And, a small smile appeared on Nicholas' face. Maybe if she did ask him, he would tell his true motives to her. She would be a fierce warrior in his army, he knew.
She was an asset, and Dumbledore was well aware of it.
"Funny, how I never got the chance to ask him that one time I had accidentally pushed him."
"I beg your pardon?" He was confused now. When did she meet him? Had she recently seen Nicholas without his glamour form? Still, how did she recognise him?
"He came to Hogwarts to apply for the post of DADA, I was running late for my Quidditch practice. I accidentally ran straight into him. He fell, and I went to help him, I was quite flustered by his natural beauty," Professor McGonagall spoke casually. Nicholas choked on the water he was drinking—did she say what he heard?
"Had I known that he was the Dark Lord, I would have punched him." A hearty chuckle left his lips. He was surprised and not even bothered by her threat. She had admitted he was handsome, and also told that she would have beaten him into oblivion, all within a span of seconds.
It was official—the Dark Lord definitely liked the sassy Professor McGonagall.
Out of the blue, he yelped loudly, catching the eyes of others around him. This also led to his shirt getting soaked by the wine that was in his hand.
He felt as if someone had pinched him real hard. He wasn't hallucinating; someone was definitely there.
"Meet me outside." The words were spoken right next to his ear—all hot breath and whispers. He stiffened, goosebumps rising on his skin; he would recognise her voice anywhere.
"Excuse me, please. I apologise for the mess," he quickly stood up muttering sorries.
"It's quite okay, professor. Why don't you go and get changed? I will ask Mibby to bring you food to your room," Professor McGonagall offered with a polite smile, seeing how flustered he'd become.
"Thank you, Professor. But I'm quite okay. I'll just..." Without saying anything further, he just rushed out from the back door.
"Alright, I'm here," Nicholas spoke loud and clear once he was sure that he was indeed alone. His hand reached out for his wand just in case. But where was she?
"I'm here."
He would never, ever admit it, but a squeak left past his lips when Harriet's face suddenly appeared out of thin air, right next to his shoulder.
"Did you just...did you just squeal?" Harriet inquired as she removed the cloak hiding the rest of her body. It was getting so hard for her not to burst out laughing, seeing the frightened face of the Dark Lord.
Merlin! She'd never thought she would see such a day.
"I didn't," Marvolo denied any of her accusations. He was simply surprised!
After taking a deep breath, he looked at her again; his face going devoid of all emotions. Harriet was astounded how easily he masked his expressions, not giving away any hint of what was on his mind. But, more than that, she was jealous.
She, too, wanted to tune out all the negative emotions from her mind and system. But, they never went away, not without taking a little part of her peace and sanity along with them.
"Was it you who pinched me in the Great Hall?" He asked with a raised brow, daring her not to lie. It was clear that he wasn't happy about his sudden accident and hasty departure.
"I'm sorry about your shirt, but you weren't listening, and I had to do something. It couldn't wait," Harriet shrugged her shoulders as she reasoned with him. She had tried to call him multiple times, but he was so engrossed in his conversation with Professor McGonagall that he hadn't heard her.
Thus, she was forced to take some extreme measures—pinching him hard on the shoulder.
The result was, the always composed Professor Nicholas, spilling the expensive red wine all over his crisp white shirt!
"What is this so-called emergency of yours, then?" he asked distractedly, his crimson orbs now fixated on the cloth in her arms. He was fascinated by the Invisibility cloak; one couldn't get their hands so easily on them."
Harriet followed his line of sight and spoke, "Got it from Borgin and Burkes. It was pretty cheap if you ask me."
It was true; she had found a cheap imitation of the original cloak, on the back aisle of the shady shop. It wasn't as efficient as Death's cloak, but it still worked finely. Besides, she couldn't risk using the original cloak in front of Marvolo or the marauders. Not at any cost.
"You went to Knockturn Alley alone?" He asked, his jaw clenching at the mere thought of her being in that filthy place.
"Yeah, Harriet narrowed her eyes at him as she answered. What was with the sudden mood changes today?
"Stupid girl," he hissed, the first resemblance to his snake-like visage. "Do you know how dangerous it could have been..." He stopped immediately as her hand came up to halt his words.
"Listen, I have been looking after myself since I was a child. I know what I'm doing; I can protect myself. I don't need your concern or pity," Harriet grumbled, and the mask of worry and concern slipped from his face, being replaced by a knowing smirk.
"Now, I know that you have been alone for a long time, not for a year as you had told everyone," he spoke confidently, circling her like a predator. "It means that either your parents have been dead for this long time or you simply didn't consider them your family. From my observations, I'm aiming for the former reason."
Harriet's eyes widened, and she cursed herself—the man was too smart.
"I'm going to enjoy unravelling you," he whispered in her ear. Harriet jerked back in surprise; when had he come this close to her?
There was an emotion swirling in his crimson eyes that she couldn't identify.
"Now, let's get back to the reason you dragged me here for." Harriet tried not to be bothered by the sudden coldness as he put distance between them. She blinked, and his words registered in her brain.
"Oh, shit! Come on, we have to hurry!"
Before he could inquire any further and get Filch's or Mrs Norris' attention, she clamps her hand on his mouth, effectively shutting him; the action catching both of them off guard.
"I'll tell you everything, but we need to get to the Gryffindor's Tower before dinner finishes. There are only twenty minutes left."
Marvolo could sense the seriousness of the situation, could hear the urgency in her voice, but he couldn't trust her this blindly. "I'm not moving until I know what we're going there for."
"Really?" Harriet narrowed her eyes at him. Why was he acting so stubborn?
Marvolo raised a questioning eyebrow at her, asking their next course of the plan. "Did you honestly think I would just follow your commands like a stupid little puppy?
"We have to find James Potter's dormitory first. Therein, will be a plain parchment; it will either be in his or Mr Lupin's belongings." She answered simply. It was getting very hard for her to not just lash out at him. Time was scarce at the moment.
"Plain parchment? You're taking us, on this adventure of yours, for a plain parchment?" Marvolo's jaw clenched.
"Yes," Harriet drawled out slowly. "You know I'm helping you, both of us. If Dumbledore gets his hand on that parchment, he'll find everything about you and me, both."
He still didn't look convinced with the whole sneaking-in idea. Harriet's anger seemed to be bubbling at the surface.
"I gave you a vow, and I intend to keep my word," she emphasised.
"That is the only reason I haven't snapped your pretty little neck into two after your little stunt back there, Miss Christopher. Mind that." There was an underlying threat in his words. And Harriet was offended. "This little parchment of yours, better be worth my time and efforts."
He took the cloak from her and covered them both. The tension between them was high, and the task as risky as hell. But they had to succeed.
And so, began their journey.
It was quiet between them, too quiet, and uncomfortable as hell. Marvolo knew he shouldn't have snapped at her, knowing she couldn't betray him because of the Unbreakable Vow. But he couldn't help it.
He was always used to being in control, to know what was happening around him at all times. He didn't like to be kept in the dark, and that was what was happening ever since she came here.
She took charge, in every situation, like she was a natural-born leader. She knew the damn future and Marvolo couldn't do anything about it because provoking her would only mean letting a golden opportunity slip out of his hands.
He should have tortured her for information, should have manipulated her into doing his dirty business, but he wasn't able to. To be honest, for the first time in a long time, Marvolo felt at peace. He didn't know what it was about the whole situation—they were on a freaking night adventure game for Morgana's sake! Yet, it was still peaceful.
He knew it was because of the girl beside him. From the moment she'd entered his life, it had been a roller-coaster of emotions. He was feeling emotions that weren't his own, that were not anger or resentment or revenge. Sometimes, he would feel the inexplicable sadness coursing through his mind, a deep ache in his chest, and he wasn't sure how she was able to deal with so many things on her own.
When he'd said that he would find everything about her, he was serious. He wanted to know everything about Harriet Christopher—not the tough exterior that lay outside, but the girl she hid beneath those emotions.
Back to the girl, she was being way too silent for his sanity. He wanted her to talk, wanted her to argue back or even shout at him, but she wouldn't. She was as stubborn as him.
Why did he shout at her?
"Stop stepping on my toes," Harriet's whispered hiss made him smile a little. Not as pissed as he'd thought.
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are!"
"Am not!" He liked the bickering, he found. He was even enjoying it. Salazar, the girl was changing him. The Dark Lord didn't bicker around silly; he tortured people for information or simply his entertainment. He killed them when they annoyed him. Yet, they were arguing while trying to hide from that stupid cat, Mrs Norris.
"That evil thing has some sixth sense, I swear," Harriet grumbled under her breath. Marvolo found it cute.
Yup. He was right; she was, somehow, slowly changing everything around him.
Marvolo could feel it in his soul.
"Stay close. Filch will be somewhere around here as well."
They reached their destination pretty easily after that, even managing to get past Peeves, undetected. Although Marvolo had almost tripped over and broken his nose, Harriet had saved him somehow. The girl had excellent reflexes, he must admit.
It would have been a blunder had Peeves seen them together—he would have surely caused a ruckus or started a stupid rumour by now.
Reaching the entrance of the Gryffindor Tower, Harriet whispered to Marvolo, "Tell her the password."
Marvolo looked in her direction—even though he couldn't see her, he could make the outline of her body.
He was, to simply put, impressed. The girl had used him to get the password of the Gryffindor Tower. And, was clever enough to use the cloak to not get caught. She had planned it thoroughly, meaning whatever was the matter, was of utmost importance.
"Gillyweed," Marvolo spoke loudly, making sure to use a muffling charm on himself, as to not get identified later on.
"Who? Who speaks?" The fat Lady inquired. Her eyes scanning the surroundings frantically. "Potter? Black? Is that you, boys? What have you done now?"
Again, Marvolo didn't question and spoke the exact words as Harriet told him to, "Yes, my Lady. We are hiding from Mr Filch, let us in. The prank backfired. GILLYWEED!"
Morgana, he could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins at this point. Why couldn't the bloody portrait hurry?
"Alright, alright! Be careful next time. Always getting into trouble, you guys. I'll tell Filch if he asks, that you didn't come here."
"Thank you." The door opened, and the duo released a breath of relief. Harriet didn't take the cloak off until she was sure that there was no one present apart from them. After she was certain that they were indeed the only people in the Gryffindor common room, she hastily took the cloak off and put some much-needed distance between her and Marvolo.
If the action bothered him, Marvolo didn't show it much. As always, he wore his weird neutral mask of emotions.
Without bothering to explain any further, Harriet took off in the direction of the boys' dormitories. Marvolo followed her lead, this time without questioning.
Harriet found the pranksters' room easily; it had nothing to do with the huge muggle band's poster that was Sirius' favourite. She locked the door behind them, and threw privacy wards as well as muffling charms as precautions.
Marvolo didn't speak as he observed her, he wondered how many times had she done this whole sneaking thingy. She seemed good at it. Even the wards and the charm work were impressive.
"It's cleaner than I thought," she said absent-mindedly.
"What are we looking for?" Marvolo asked. His eyes raking over to the belongings of the four teenage boys. There was nothing special about them, apart from that one bed, which looked like the epicentre of the Bermuda Triangle.
"The Marauders Map."
Marvolo looked at her sharply, her tone seemingly in a far-off thought.
"Accio Marauder's Map," Marvolo cast the spell. They waited for a few moments, but nothing happened. A frown appeared on Harriet's face.
"It's not here," Marvolo spoke.
"It should be here."
"I don't cast wrong spells, Harriet." Marvolo scoffed, offended that she was even questioning his skills. Silly little girl!
"It has to be; I checked their robes and pockets. It wasn't on them unless they've given it to someone else, which I highly doubt." Harriet mused.
"You checked their robe while they were eating?" Was this girl in her right mind?
"That was why I came to the Great Hall actually. I would have just used the mindlink to contact you, but I needed your help too. Plus, your shields have been a blunder lately; I heard everything from your meeting with Dumbledore," Harriet explained while tapping her finger on his forehead.
"Accio Marauder's Map," she spoke again with her left hand in waiting to catch the map in its grasp. But, there was no sign of it. Instead, she heard a bustling, a very muffled one at that.
"Did you hear that?" she asked Marvolo, and he only nodded. He moved towards one of the beds at the far right corner of the room, and instructed her, "Cast the spell again."
Harriet did as he told; there was the same sound again, and Marvolo immediately knelt down to retrieve a locked box from under the bed.
"Alohomora," Marvolo cast a wandless spell, and the box clicked open. There it was—the Marauder's Map—in all its glory.
"Pettigrew," Harriet snarled in realisation. Why was the traitor hiding the map in a locked box? Why not just give to Padfoot or Moony? What was going on in his head?
Marvolo didn't say anything as she took the map from his hands. Neither did he ask as to how she knew whose bed it was; they were questions for later.
"I solemnly swear that I'm upto no good," Harriet muttered the magic words, and the parchment started to reveal its content.
'Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers
Are proud to present
THE MARAUDER'S MAP'
Soon enough, the map started to show everyone and everything that was in the castle of Hogwarts—every teacher, every student and ghost, every classroom and every turn. It even showed the freaking movement of the ever-changing stairs.
Marvolo's eyes widened at the impressive piece of magic in front of his eyes, taking it in greedily.
"What the hell is this? He voiced his thoughts. Morgana, what a beautiful evil thing it was! Oh, the things he could do with this map!
"Told you it would be worth your time. It shows where everyone is, at every second of the day," Harriet started, knowing he was too perplexed to speak at the moment. She kept opening it further and further.
"It's a highly complex piece of magic—shows everyone's true names and identities, even if you are in an animagus or glamour form. Nothing can hide on this map.
Marvolo understood what the situation was now, if anyone read Marvolo's or Harriet's real name through this map, there would be dire consequences.
"Here we are," Harriet pointed at themselves, where they were shown on the map in Gryffindor's boys' dormitories.
"I thought the map showed everyone's true identities," Marvolo frowned; his and Harriet's name was shown as Nicholas Grey and Harriet Christopher, respectively. Why were they here then?
"I already tweaked our names before," Harriet admitted. "I want to erase our names from the map, though, like we don't exist on this paper."
"Why?" It was such a simple yet complicated question.
"The map has its uses, true, but recently it has been used for not such innocent tasks. I don't want to get stalked, especially by Dumbledore." Where did the old goat come from?
"Does it have something to do with your conversation with Miss Fawley in today's class?"
"How did you?" she asked, words coming out a little breathless by the intense way he was staring at her.
"Mindlink," he brushed his knuckles against her forehead; he'd heard her the same way she knew about the meeting. Her shields seemed weak too when it came to Marvolo.
"Mr Potter is using the map to stalk Ms Evans, right?"
"Yeah. And once I realised that, I planned to remove our names from it. But I only know a few knick-knacks to change names, not to make people disappear. That kind of magic won't work on it."
"What about Albus, though?"
"Think about it," Harriet said. "He knows about the map. Do you honestly think he wouldn't? He could always borrow it from Potter or Black or Lupin, and they won't be able to refuse him."
Marvolo was slowly understanding, "They would feel obligated because Dumbledore has been favouring them for all these years."
"Yes, Lupin even more so. He's a werewolf." Harriet said. Now wasn't that breaking news! A werewolf in a school full of ignorant students, the question was—did the parents know?
"Emotional manipulation."
"Exactly."
The Dark Lord was wrong—Albus Dumbledore had been very busy all these years, and he was being very sneaky about it.
"How do I change our names, though?"
"I don't know. That is why I needed your help," Harriet confessed.
"So, no concealing charms would work on it?"
"Nope. It is resistant to almost all spells. It was made that way." Marvolo's mind started running. His curiosity kept increasing for the magical map.
"May I ask why the map was made then?"
"I'm sorry, it is not my secret to tell. Maybe they would tell you themselves." Harriet said, not sounding regrettable at all.
"And it was your secret to tell me about Mr Lupin's condition?"
"You're his teacher, you would have found out eventually," Harriet shrugged. Marvolo sighed, knowing she wouldn't answer any further.
Perhaps asking the pranksters himself, would be a good idea. That way, he could earn their trust and also get to know about the map's secrets. Two birds with one stone.
He thought of the task at hand, and simultaneously, observed Harriet. She moved around the room taking in everything; it felt as if she was trying to memorize it.
Harriet wasn't one to sneak around other people's business, but her interest piqued when something golden, lying on James' bedside table, caught her eye.
She picked up the Snitch delicately, the memories of her going into the Forbidden Forest flashing through her mind. Marvolo was stunned when the same memories assaulted his ongoing thoughts—a broken and bruised Harriet with a wand in her hand, and hopelessness consuming her soul, entering what seemed like a very dark forest. It was only for a second, but everything seemed dark and hollow.
He staggered back to reality when she looked at him sharply; her emerald eyes shining with a dangerous glint in them.
She knew that he saw her.
"Is the map resistant to Parseltongue?" he asked. The air around them had strained in a matter of moments.
Harriet only nodded with a 'no'.
"Okay," Marvolo said, taking a seat on the bed. "I think I might have a solution."
Harriet put back the Snitch at its designated place and moved to where he sat.
"We could use a Fidelius charm."
"I thought Fidelius charms only worked on living souls," Harriet's confusion was palpable.
"Not necessarily. Fidelius means binding a secret into someone or something unless you give them permission to reveal it. Seeing this map, though, we can say it's not entirely non-living; the way it is designed, it has aspects of its founders embedded in it, through the magic they cast onto it."
Harriet's thoughts were still bleh.
"Take Hogwarts, for example," Marvolo simplified and things started to make a little sense. The Hogwarts castle was exactly dead, it had magic in it just like the map.
"Okay, what do we do?"
"We'll bind our blood into it, and I'll cast the spell." Harriet nodded and took out the small dagger that was tucked in her boots. Marvolo only looked amused and impressed at her.
"I'm not going to even ask."
"Always be alert and trust no one," Harriet slyly recited one of the sayings of the Slytherin house.
"Okay, on the count of three, let three drops of your blood drop onto the map," Marvolo instructed, laying the map gently on the bed. Harriet made a cut on her left palm without any hesitation, something that didn't go unnoticed by Marvolo, and he repeated the action on his left palm as well.
"One, two, three…" both of them put their hands above the parchment, while Marvolo started hissing the Fidelius charm in Parseltongue. They waited for a few moments, until their blood vanished from the surface of the parchment and got absorbed into it.
Harriet couldn't keep the smile off her face. The map had accepted their request.
Marvolo checked the whole thing twice, until he was sure that their names had indeed vanished from the paper. He picked his wand again, and Harriet raised a brow at him. She was about to stop him when he spoke, "Trust me."
Two more spells were cast on the Marauder's Map, and they too, seemed to be acceptable by the map.
"What was that?" Harriet asked. Marvolo threw a handsome smirk at her.
"The first one was a Confundus charm set especially for Albus Dumbledore. The map would be, in simpler terms, useless for him. The map would never show him who is where and what not. It would all be jumbled up for him. Standing right beside him would be McGonagall, but the map would show Hagrid."
Oh, that was bloody brilliant! And so evil at that.
Harriet gave a toothy grin that made a funny tingle in his stomach.
"And the second?"
"The map would never show the right direction to someone whose intentions are not pure, not even the makers of the map." His answer was honest and for a moment, Harriet was left dumbfounded.
"You seemed to not like the fact when Mr Potter actively pursues Miss Evans. Thought this could help."
"Means no more stalking?" Harriet asked.
"No, not when he seeks her out. The map wouldn't show that. Otherwise, it would work as it normally does."
She honestly didn't know what to say. This was so thoughtful on his part. She wouldn't have to worry about Lily that much, now. "Thank you."
He only nodded. Marvolo didn't do favours without wanting anything in return, but this time he had. Because this time, one of his student's lives was involved—Miss Evans was a bright student and she didn't deserve to be degraded and stalked like that.
Not to mention the fact that Harriet seemed to be very much concerned whenever it came to Lily Evans.
"Mischief Managed," Harriet spoke the words and the map transformed into a bare paper just like that. Marvolo packed it in the box as it was, putting it under Peter's bed. He wanted the map for himself. The journey back to the Slytherin common room was easier now, since all the ghosts seemed to be in attendance at the Great Hall. The Marauder's had pulled another prank on the teachers and everything was a ruckus.
"Since you helped me, I'll like to extend the same by giving you some advice," Harriet spoke to Marvolo, who was leaning against one of the walls, as she was about to enter the common room.
"And what would that be?"
"Always be on the lookout for a rat. Always." He nodded sincerely.
"And, Marvolo?" He liked the way her green eyes clashed with his crimson ones. "Don't even think about stealing the map."
"And how is it that you know that I want the map?" He crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge.
"Oh, I'll know very well," Harriet took out a similar looking parchment out of her robes. She had her own map!
"Besides, I know you better than you know yourself. Goodnight, Professor." Feeling particularly bold, Harriet winked at him. Marvolo's jaw clenched—the little firecracker had used him.
Well, challenge accepted, Miss Christopher.
-A/N: Let me know what you guys think about this one! Reads, followers, favorites and reviews are always appreciated! Good day to all! :)
