Saturday, 30 October 1993
Remus Lupin's Office
"It was horrible, Remus," Mary said, as straight-faced as she could manage. "I've seen and done some pretty awful things since I came to Hogwarts, but this takes the cake, really."
Remus laughed. "Worse than seeing someone killed?"
"Oh, yeah, definitely."
"Worse than dementors?"
Mary pretended to think about this, and then lied. "I think so, actually."
"Are you sure you're not exaggerating?" the professor teased. "We are still talking about a tea party, are we not?"
"It wasn't just a tea party, Remus. It was a pureblood, girly-girl, Slytherin tea party. There were little heart-shaped biscuits with pink icing and a bunch of first and second-years all full of themselves, acting like their own maiden aunties, and gossip and plotting over the stupidest little things, like how to get Roger Davies' attention, and – oh, Merlin – and then, they started talking about hair care charms. It was like every awful, horrible cliché about being a pre-teen girl, paraded out for show over three bloody hours."
"As utterly awful as that sounds, it was just one afternoon. Surely you can move on."
"No. I can't. It was too traumatizing. And also I've been invited back for next month, and I can't say no. Lilian went to great lengths to explain how unspeakably rude it would be to decline such an invitation before the first one. Catherine was over the moon when I told her – she went on for six inches about how happy she was I was finally making proper connections – and it's not that I don't want to get to know the other girls, I just…"
"Find their idea of a good time to be painfully dull?"
"Exactly."
The wizard chuckled. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but that's life – horribly unfair at every turn, and whenever it's not stabbing you in the heart, it's boring you to tears."
Mary raised an eyebrow at that. It was far more sarcastic than Remus' usual conversational gambits. "Bitter much?"
"Sorry," he apologized, shaking his head ruefully. "It's not my favorite time of year."
She nodded understandingly. She thought the way the magical world treated her parents' deaths was absurd, but she hadn't ever really known them. Remus (and Snape, come to think of it) had grown up with them. It made sense that they would be extra touchy as the Anniversary approached.
"So how's Lilian been doing?" Remus asked. "She's seemed better in class."
The third-year shrugged and sighed involuntarily. "She has been, a bit. Better, I mean. We haven't been hanging out as much as we used to, but she's been helping Draco with his Anti-Hagrid campaign again. Did you hear about the Acid Slugs?"
"Better than flobberworms," the DADA instructor snorted. "I still can't believe he managed an entire month's lessons on those things."
"Erm, I don't think they were actually lessons so much. Anyway, they came up with the idea of jumping on the Anti-Binns petition bandwagon by getting all of his students to sign one, and then owling copies to all the members of the board of governors demanding that they impose some sort of standards on Dumbledore's hiring choices. I think they got almost all of them. They even had some of the Hufflepuffs approach the Gryffindors, all the way up through the seventh-years."
"He – he wasn't making the NEWT students look at flobberworms, too, was he?"
Mary nodded. "That's what I heard. Never mind that they could probably handle the hippogriffs."
"Good Lord," the professor rolled his eyes.
"Right? So we figure Dumbledore has about a fifty-fifty record for decent hires in the past few years. On the one hand, there's you and Charity." (The man flushed slightly at her teasing tone, but he had long-since given up on correcting her address of the muggle studies teacher. He knew she only did it to annoy.) "And on the other, there's Quirrellmort, Lockhart, and Hagrid. And not getting rid of Binns, but he was here before Dumbledore, anyway. So Morgana – Morgana Yaxley, she's a prefect, now, I think I told you – she said that she thinks they could make a solid case for needing better hiring practices or qualification standards or the like. And Lils asked Sean to help write the petition, and he got the upperclassmen interested."
"I'm surprised the upperclassmen aren't too busy for that sort of thing."
"Well, how much time does it take to sign a petition and pass it around your commons? Anyway, they've had a lot more awful DADA teachers than we have."
Remus smirked slightly at that, and Mary recalled that he had, himself, attended Hogwarts since the DADA Curse started. "And the Binns Petition is still going strong?"
"Yep. Emma tells me she's had a good deal of progress organizing a Muggleborn Parents Support Network. That's not the name, though, hang on… it's IMP… Informed Muggle Parents?" she shrugged. "Sounds right. Like a support group for the muggle parents. Her latest thing is trying to get anyone to actually take them seriously as, like, a lobbying group. I guess some friends of Mrs. Tonks are in on it, like Mrs. Diggory, but they don't seem to have very much pull."
"That would be Cadi Diggory?" Mary nodded. "I remember her from school – she used to be Cadi Carpenter. Quiet, but stubborn. I'd be surprised if she didn't have a bit of influence with at least a few of the board members. And of course Alice Diggory is Lady Longbottom's daughter-in-law, so there's a family connection there, even if it's only through marriage. I bet she'll be able to make some serious in-roads given a month or two to work on people."
Mary nodded again. "I'm sure that's the plan, or, you know, something like that. Makes sense, anyway. From what I hear, Mrs. Tonks is very good at politicking."
Remus snorted. "Of course she is. She was raised to it. She threw herself out of the Black family the year that I started at Hogwarts, but no one who grew up in that family is stupid when it comes to politics, even…" he hesitated.
Mary reached across the desk and patted his hand gingerly. It couldn't be easy remembering Sirius Black so close to the Anniversary, either. "Have the aurors, you know, mentioned anything?"
"No, of course not," he said bitterly. "The official line is that they're following every lead and are very close to making a capture, but that doesn't mean anything. For all they know, he's in Australia."
The conversation lapsed momentarily, and Mary decided that the best way to change the subject was to go back to talking about her friends. "Lilian asked Draco to go to Hogsmeade with her today," she confided in the older wizard. Draco had said yes, too, which was definitely more surprising. Apparently he didn't like Pansy that much, despite half of Slytherin assuming they were already engaged. Mary couldn't help but envy her friend – though more over being able to go to Hogsmeade at all than the fact that she had a date. "I think half the reason she's so keen to make nice with Pansy and Tracey is so they'll give her tips on dating and whatnot."
Remus snorted. "What's the other half?"
"Diplomacy and bad taste?" That earned her an outright laugh. "And they're all in Divs, so, you know, not much to do there besides talk."
"Trelawney really is a piece of work. Have you met her?"
"Once, in passing." Mary had encountered the sherry-and-patchouli-scented Divination Professor only a few weeks before. "She predicted my death. Something about a Grim and terrible deathly omens. But Lilian says she does that at least once a class period. Apparently she's supposed to drown, and also be struck by lightning before the end of the year."
"Sounds about right," Remus grinned. "Anyway, how have the rest of your friends been? You've hardly mentioned Hermione at all."
Mary squirmed in her seat. "Hermione's been… busy." They had made up their little tiff after their last detention with Snape – Mary had found Hermione in a nook in the dungeons, rocking and crying after Snape had revived everyone. Apparently the Isolation Hex was very like being in the Diary – Riddle had done something like it to Ginny, and Hermione had spent the entire eight hours trapped in flashbacks to the Gryffindor's experiences with the horcrux, which she had so thoughtlessly offered to share. But since then, they had only spent Wednesday evening together.
"Oh?"
"She's taking a lot of classes, which aren't really good story material, and I've got Quidditch." Their association was also hindered by Hermione's insistence on being seen studying during her frees, and staying out of sight when she was using the time turner. She thought it would look out of place if she was suddenly relaxing and hanging out with friends when everyone knew she was in all the classes. When she had seen her elusive friend, the Ravenclaw claimed to be spending most of her time under the cloak, either in the library or in Ravenclaw tower, but Mary wasn't sure she believed her. While obsessive bookishness wasn't exactly out of character, it was unusual for her to be so vague about what she had been studying.
"I see."
"Anyway, I've been spending more time with Dave, Alex, and Nora. They're always hanging around the common room looking for something to do, so we've been exploring a bit."
Just then, there was a knock on the door, saving Mary from having to elaborate on the fact that they were largely exploring a set of tunnels under Slytherin that required Parseltongue to access. Like the Warren, they seemed to go everywhere, including out into the Forest, down to the little beach where the first-years' boats landed (and were stored), and to a room at what felt like the very heart of the school, the door to which didn't answer to Parsel. They assumed only the Headmaster could go there.
"Come in," Remus called.
It was Snape. He was carrying a goblet, which was smoking faintly. He stopped at the sight of Mary, eyes narrowing. "Miss Potter. Lupin."
"Ah, Severus, thanks very much," Remus smiled politely, but he didn't get up. "Could you leave it here on the desk?"
Snape did so, his eyes flickering between himself and Mary in a silent question.
"Professor Lupin and I have tea every few weeks, just to catch up," Mary explained coolly.
"Catch up?"
"As I'm sure you're aware, sir, Professor Lupin was friends with my father as students. We have been in touch since my first year."
"I… see…" Snape turned his evaluating look on Remus, who did his best to look innocent. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."
"What is it?" Mary asked, looking curiously at the goblet.
"A particularly complex potion I require for relief of a chronic medical condition," Remus explained, slightly too quickly, taking it up and obviously steeling himself. Potions always tasted awful, especially the medical ones.
Snape snorted as Remus quaffed the liquid. "Chronic medical condition, indeed."
"Are you okay?" Mary asked, suddenly fearful that, as they had joked about her first year, the DADA professor was dying, and had chosen to spend his last year at Hogwarts.
"His condition is not life-threatening," Snape assured her, even as Remus broke down in a coughing fit – though that could have been from trying to drink the potion too quickly. "At least, not to him."
"Sir?" she looked up in confusion. "I don't under–"
"That's enough, Snape," Remus said raggedly, cutting her off. He was still wheezing a bit.
"Yes, she is rather intelligent, isn't she?" The Head of Slytherin just gave his fellow professor a superior smirk. "Well, we shall see."
"What in the names of Merlin, Morgan, and Mordred is with the two of you?" Mary asked, frustrated by her complete lack of understanding.
Neither one answered. They continued their strange staring contest for half a minute before Snape turned on his heel and billowed away, with a reminder not to be late for detention.
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled under her breath. "Whatever. Speaking of, though, Remus, I should go to lunch."
He nodded, looking decidedly more ill after having taken his medicine than he did before. "See you later, then, Mary."
"See you." She left before she saw enough that she had to add worrying about Remus to her list of serious concerns.
Great Hall
Whether Lilian would make it back from her 'date' in time for detention was currently topping that list. Mary hurried to lunch, hoping to see her fellow third-year there. Snape didn't seem at all to be in the mood to deal with tardiness from any of the Conspirators today.
Unfortunately, Lilian wasn't there.
Mary grew more and more anxious on her friend's behalf as the lunch period wore on, hardly hearing her younger companions chattering excitedly about Samhain. Nora was eagerly describing her father's family's rituals to Dave, with Alex throwing in the occasional comparisons to his mother's stories of the holiday, though apparently her family had been more progressive.
As third-year Slytherins, Mary and Lilian were officially allowed to invite people to the Revel, though in practice, many of the people they would have invited already knew about it and would show up even without their reminder. They had tracked down Aerin, Luna, and Ginny earlier in the week, and found that Sean had already told Aerin to come, and Luna had actually invited Ginny. The younger Ravenclaw had looked genuinely surprised when they tried to invite her, as though they ought to have known she would be there, even though the ceremony hadn't been held the year prior, and it was only her second year.
The Ravenclaw contingent of the Conspirators wandered over to the Slytherin table about fifteen minutes before they were expected to report to Snape's office.
"Still no Lili?" Hermione asked. She had gone to town and returned with plenty of time to spare. Mary thought, not for the first time, that time travel must be very nice indeed. "She said she would be here!"
Aerin scoffed. She had been to Hogsmeade enough times that she didn't think it necessary to go again, just for the morning. "Of course not. She's going to be in so much trouble."
Mary winced and nodded. She had told the bold Slytherin it wasn't worth risking Snape's wrath to wander around for a few hours with Draco of all people, but Lilian had accused Mary of being jealous and went right on with her preparations, never mind the fact that Mary had turned down fifth-years. (Not that she had wanted to go with any of them, anyway, but she might have said yes to Aerin's friend Kirke if she had been allowed.) She had been relieved when word finally got around that she wasn't going at all, and everyone had stopped asking. She definitely wasn't jealous!
"What are you guys doing this afternoon?" Alex asked brightly.
"Never you mind," Aerin said haughtily, every inch the fourth-year. This, of course, only made the underclassmen more interested.
"You all are not, was ist der Ausdruck? Up to no good?" Nora smirked at them.
"They're definitely up to something," Dave opined, raising a challenging brow.
"Can we help?" Alex asked excitedly. "We helped Malfoy with the –"
"Secret mission we weren't supposed to talk about!" Dave interrupted, elbowing his friend in the ribs.
"Procuring ingredients for queasejelly?" Luna suggested.
Nora tittered. "Ja! We can be very… helpful."
Mary rolled her eyes. It just figured Draco hadn't really killed the damn flobberworms himself. Wanker. "We're not up to anything. We have detention."
"All of you? What did you do?"
Alex, Mary thought, was far too blatantly nosy for his own good. Hermione answered before any of the others could. "Either we illegally potioned the entire school using a post-NEWT truth serum, or we got caught sneaking around after hours by a particularly irritable, greasy professor and pissed him off even more by trying to talk our way out of our punishment. Which do you think?" Mary was impressed. Keeping the time turner under wraps (mostly) was doing wonders for her first friend's ability to imply an un-truth without simply covering a lie in a flood of unrelated information.
"Well… I think I would have noticed if everyone had taken a truth potion," Alex said seriously.
Everyone laughed except Hermione, who just smirked, and Luna, who asked, "Would you really?" which only raised more giggles.
"Come on, you lot," Aerin said, doing her very best to be the responsible oldest student in the group. "We're going to be late."
They made it to the dungeon office just in time. Lilian stumbled in fifteen minutes later, red-faced and out of breath, and was assigned an additional evening of detention scrubbing cauldrons for her tardiness, in addition to the day's task of copying the line "I must respect the rights of my fellow students" for as many hours as they could. She complained about this at length, because no one had made it through the fifth hour and the OWL students quit considerably earlier, so obviously she hadn't really missed any substantial part of the day's torture.
Mary nodded along sympathetically, secretly pleased that the older girl's ire over her additional punishment distracted her from recounting the morning's adventures with Malfoy in excruciating detail. It was bad enough having to listen to Pansy talk about Anthony Corner and Tracey mooning over Cedric Diggory, who was admittedly very fit, even if he was a Hufflepuff.
Sunday, 31 October, 1993
Hogwarts
As it had been the year before, Samhain fell on a Quidditch long-practice day. As it had been the year before, Flint laughed in the face of the poor second-year who had the nerve to suggest they take the day off from practice, or at least quit early. This time it was Mini-Higgs. The boy, who had been one of the first to object to Dave's presence in Slytherin, had not been nearly as bad on the Quidditch pitch as Mary had feared he might be when he made the team. He seemed to know as well as she did that if the rest of the team had been forced to choose between their established star seeker and a new reserve chaser, they would have sided with her in any disagreement, and Flint had a very strict "no politics on the pitch" policy. Breaches of this policy were met with Gauntlet Drills (where the whole team took up beaters' bats to create a bludger-field for one unarmed flier to attempt to dodge through) or at the very least hours of practice with the Heavy Quaffle. No one ignored it more than once.
Higgs, like Lilian, the year previously, had been warned in no uncertain terms that they would be expected to show up for practice, come hell or high water, and show up they did, despite the chill and the rain and the gusting winds coming out of the north. It was an absolutely miserable practice, with their captain becoming so irritated at one point with their inability to hear him in the air that he grounded them all for an hour and a half to run and do push-ups in the mud. Even the downpour that had ensued in the last hour of practice didn't get them completely clean after that, and Mary was certain she would never be warm again. She'd had to catch the snitch by clapping it between both hands, because her fingers didn't want to open and close.
It was an extraordinarily bedraggled crew that made their way from the showers to the castle, speculating nervously about whether the Revel would even happen if the rain didn't let up. Even a magical fire might have trouble staying lit in that kind of weather. Flint, who was now a seventh-year, admitted that he didn't recall the Revel ever having been held in the rain before. But then, he assured the younger students, it was only noon. There was plenty of time for the weather to clear up before they headed out of the castle again.
When they finally dragged themselves back to the Common Room, they found a small posse of NEWT students preparing to go brave the storm to cast some sort of weather-working spell, forcing it to move on. Miss Farley offered to let anyone who was interested come watch, but the entire team turned her down with one voice. They had had more than enough rain and mud for one day, thanks very much. Mary was more interested in whether she could somehow move one of the braziers from the common room to her bedroom and just curl up around it for a few hours. The answer turned out to be an emphatic no, but she did go take a nice long nap, refusing to leave her bed until her feet felt less like little blocks of ice.
She had every intention of getting up at some point and working a bit more on translating the Parsel book, or even homework (or working ahead to master the Warming Charm, for future practices), but ended up sleeping straight through until she was awakened by Lilian pounding on her door and shouting about being late to the Feast.
"Coming! I'm coming!" she shouted back, struggling (mostly) free of her bed before she was fully conscious and falling flat on her face.
"Are you okay?"
"Just clumsy," Mary groaned to herself, dragging the blanket still tangled with her robes behind her as she opened the door, much to her friend's amusement. "Yes! I'm coming!"
"This is why we don't sleep in our robes, you daft doxie," Lilian sniggered.
"I'm glad you're amused," she sniped back, sticking her tongue out at the older girl.
"Well, the rain's stopped, and I was just up in the Great Hall – it's not as nice as last year, but they have these awesome fire-snake things floating around the ceiling."
"You think it was Snape's turn to decorate?" Mary asked, quickly re-making her bed and digging out an un-wrinkled over-robe while Lilian chattered at her from the doorway.
"Maybe. But there were bats, too, and I didn't think illusions were his thing."
Mary shrugged. "Whatever. Just let me wash my face, and I'll be ready."
She re-braided her hair too, on the advice of the bathroom mirror, then followed Lilian back to the Feast. Everyone was in high spirits, even those who would normally disdain the progressive celebration – Mary had learned over the summer that some families held Samhain as a fast-day. But they were all looking forward to the Revel.
The food was, as always, delicious. This year's theme for deserts was Natural Disasters: towering shaved ice avalanches; volcano cakes that exploded with red and orange 'lava' as they were cut into; and the pièce de résistance, a pudding sea with a spun-sugar island of Atlantis sinking under the waves. Then the Hogwarts ghosts put on a bit of a show at the end of it: synchronized gliding to proper, human music, rather than another Spectral Orchestra, and re-enactments of some of their more spectacular deaths. It was pretty impressive. The only other time the ghosts turned out visibly and en masse was at the Welcome and Leaving Feasts, so it was easy to forget that there were seventy or eighty of them in the Castle.
The Heir of House Potter was secretly hopeful: this might very well be the first Samhain she had been a part of the magical world where nothing at all went wrong.
That private hope lasted about half an hour after the House retired to their dungeon. Chess and Morgana were explaining to the underclassmen (including third-years, who had never experienced a 'normal' revel, either) that they would sneak out of the castle around eleven in small groups to convene at the Senior Woods and begin the ceremony. That was when Snape, for the second year in a row, billowed into the common room.
His dark eyes took in the scene before him in an instant – most of the upperclassmen were in their rooms, and only three of the six prefects were present. "Chesterfield! Yaxley!" he snapped. "We have an Alpha-Deux situation. Assemble the House, immediately!"
They ran. It was not often that Snape spoke with any degree of sharpness within the confines of Slytherin. Mary groaned. Alpha was the code for when all or most of the students were in the dorms, and she was pretty sure that the two-series was a threat to a non-specific student or students. Plan Alpha-Dos was a full-on House lock-down, for use in case, say, Fenrir Greyback managed to break into the castle, but they hadn't covered what French meant. She had a feeling she would find out soon, though, since Snape was still speaking:
"Moon, choose five NEWT students and fetch back anyone who has already left to prepare the Revel. I have sent a Message, but it appears to have gone unheeded. If you encounter the convict Black, you may use all due force to defend yourselves."
Every thought of security protocols fled Mary's head; she froze on hearing Black's name, even as most of the assembled crowd erupted with chatter.
"Silence!" Snape demanded, and the dull roar subsided to a mere susurration. Sean tapped five of his fellow seniors, including Flint and Warbler, and they followed him out of the Common Room, grim-faced, wands out. Upperclassmen began to filter in, hastily summoned by the fifth-year prefects.
"Black is here?!" Mary whispered, still stunned, to Lilian, just as Morgana re-appeared, somewhat out of breath from running through the tunnels.
"That's everyone in the dorm, sir," she reported. Snape examined a scroll briefly, then nodded.
"Sirius Black is believed to have infiltrated the Castle," he said without preamble. "You are to make your way to the Great Hall immediately while the teachers perform a thorough search. You are not, under any circumstances, to leave the Hall or attempt to track down the criminal yourselves. To be caught out of bounds before the all-clear will be considered a suspension-worthy offence."
"But what about the Revel?" a boy called from the depths of the assembled students.
"Is the Revel held in the Great Hall, Mr. Rowle?" Snape answered sarcastically. "The dead will forgive your absence. Yaxley, Chesterfield, escort the House back upstairs. The stragglers will meet you there."
And so Slytherin trooped back through the dungeons and up to the Hall, where Prefect Weasley, the Head Boy, was standing next to Dumbledore looking obnoxiously pleased with himself.
"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the Castle," the Headmaster announced, as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed the doors behind them. "I'm afraid that for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall, and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately," he added as an aside to Weasley and Clearwater. "Send word with one of the ghosts."
He paused, about to leave the hall, and said, "Oh, yes, you'll be needing…" then with a wave of his wand, the long tables removed themselves to the edges of the hall, standing against the walls. Another wave, and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.
"Sleep well," he announced, and then he was gone.
The hall immediately began to buzz with gossip, and Mary longed to find someone who knew what had happened, but Morgana was reminding them to tell anyone they had invited to the Revel that it was apparently canceled, again, even as Chess took a position guarding one of the side-doors to the hall, and sent a Message out of it, presumably telling Sean to bring in the rest of the house through there.
By the time Morgana let the underclassmen go to claim a pile of sleeping bags, Weasley was yelling about lights out in ten minutes.
Mary and Lilian hastily sought out Hermione and Aerin. It wasn't especially difficult, given that they had set up under one of the house tables, and Luna was standing on top of it, waving at them. Ginny was there as well, apparently dragged away from her many overprotective brothers by Hermione. The twins and Ron were several rows of sleeping bags away, glaring at her.
Ginny was valiantly ignoring them as she explained, "And then Peeves said, 'You'll be lucky!' or something like that – oh, hey, Lizzie, Lilian. Do you want me to start over?"
"Definitely," Lilian said, nodding firmly.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Is that everyone?"
"Almost," Mary answered. "What happened?"
"Well, if we could stop being interrupted, that's what Ginny was telling us!"
("Hello, Lilian Grace, Mary Elizabeth," Luna said, allowing her head and shoulders to droop over the side of the table.)
"Just a sec," Lilian said to both Mary and Hermione. "Aerie, it's nothing to worry about, but,"
("Erm, hi, Luna. Again," Mary answered. They had already waved hello, after all.)
"Morrigan, Annie, you can't just start out like that! Now I'm definitely going to –"
"Shut up! It's Sean – it's nothing to worry about, but he's leading the party to disband the Revel and bring everyone back to the castle."
"You mean he's out there? With him on the loose?" Hermione sounded shocked.
Aerin just sighed slightly. "Well he is a seventh-year, and a Slytherin Prefect. He took backup, right?"
"Five other NEs," Lilian nodded.
"Okay, then. I'll try not to worry too much about him."
Hermione looked back and forth between the sisters for a moment before she said, "Oookay… so does that mean that Ginny can tell us what happened now?"
The redhead was still waiting patiently to do so.
"I think so, yes," Luna said, her blonde hair briefly vanishing as she looked up and around. "Blaise Ricardo and Daphne Elena were going to come over, but they've been waylaid."
Ginny let out a gusty sigh. "Alright, then. It's not really that long a story, anyway… We all left the table after dinner and started making our way upstairs, but when we got to the corridor where our dorm is, traffic was backed up all the way to the stairs. You all, um…"
"Yes, yes, they know that your common room is on the seventh floor, behind a portrait called the Fat Lady," Hermione said shortly.
"Is it really?" Lilian asked, wide-eyed, earning her an elbow in the ribs from Mary. "Yeah, we already knew that," she admitted, in a far less sarcastic tone.
The candles went out in a wave, and the girls lit their wands, intent on the youngest Weasley's story.
"Right," Ginny glared. "So we all got upstairs and traffic was backed up, and it turned out the portrait was closed. Then Percy got there and was being his usual pompous arse self, saying things like 'Let me through, I'm the Head Boy!' and 'You can't all have forgotten the password!'"
Mary looked around, realizing quite suddenly that a hush had fallen over the hall, followed by a wave of laughter.
The pompous arse in question swooped down on them seconds later. "Ginevra Phyllis Weasley! I said lights out!"
"Oh, stuff it, Perce," the younger Weasley sassed him, peeking out from under the table.
Mary bit her lip, hard, trying not to laugh. The Head Boy scowled. "Don't think I won't take points from you just because you're my sister!"
"It's not even…" she cast a tempus charm in his face and smirked as he recoiled from the glowing red numbers. "We still have half an hour until curfew!"
"Headmaster Dumbledore left me in charge!" Percy objected tetchily. Mary imagined he said that phrase quite often as a child, but with 'mum' in place of 'Headmaster Dumbledore.' "Five points from Gryffindor for your backtalk!"
Ginny shrugged. "You know that hurts you more than it hurts me, right?"
"Another five points!"
"Weasley?" Sean Moon's voice called softly from somewhere nearby. "What seems to be the problem?"
Mary didn't miss the sigh of relief from both of his sisters.
"Your sisters have been a poor influence on mine, Moon," Percy said, peeking under the table to see who she was sitting with, to a scattered chorus of, "Good evening, Prefect Weasley," and many giggles.
"What have they done now?" Sean asked. Mary fancied she could hear him rolling his eyes.
"They won't stop talking!"
"Well, it is only nine-thirty. Curfew's not until ten…" Sean said reasonably, leading Percy to sputter indignantly. "Come off it – Clearwater said she wanted to talk to you…"
There was a decidedly offended harrumph, but then Percy finally moved away.
"Are you alright, Sean?" Aerin asked.
"Course I am, Aerie. Everyone's back safe. No sign of Black," he sat cross-legged beside them, wand lit. "Miss Weasley, care to fill me in on what happened?"
Ginny blushed faintly as he gave her his most charming smile. Lilian prodded him with her wand and told him to stop teasing her friends, but Ginny said yes, anyway.
"Everyone was stuck in the hall outside of Gryffindor, and Prefect Weasley had just showed up," Hermione reminded her.
"Yeah, right, so, then the next thing I heard was Perce yelling all panicked-like for somebody to fetch Professor Dumbledore. Not sure who did, but someone must have, because he showed up a few minutes later. He kind of made a path through the crowd, and I kind of followed him. I got close enough to see that the Fat Lady's portrait was all cut up, bad enough that there were strips of canvas on the ground. And then McG and Lupin showed up, and Snape, not sure why he was there…"
"Because he always has to fix this sort of problem," Hermione said blithely, earning strange looks from all of the Slytherins. It wasn't untrue that Snape was the most security-conscious Head of House, as evidenced by the fact that they did have a plan in place for just such an occasion as this, but it did seem rather odd for Hermione to remark upon it. Sean motioned for Ginny to continue.
"So McG and Lupin and Snape show up, and Dumbledore says, 'We need to find her!' and sent McG to find Filch to search all the paintings in the castle for the Fat Lady. And that was when Peeves chimed in saying we'd be lucky to do – she's apparently a mess, and hiding in shame, crying. And then Dumbledore asked really quietly if Peeves knew who did it, or something like that, because Peeves said loud enough for everyone to hear, 'He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see. Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black!'"
"And then what?" Lilian asked as Ginny paused.
"Then that was it. He sent us all back down here, and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw came in about ten minutes after, and then you lot."
"Thank you, Miss Weasley," Sean said, excusing himself to speak to the other Slytherin prefects.
"What happened in Slytherin?" Aerin asked.
"Snape just came in while we were all getting ready for the Revel and said we had to come back up here, and that if we were caught out before the all-clear, we'd be suspended," Lilian said with a sigh. "Revel's cancelled, by the way."
Ginny nodded. "I'll tell the twins. Back in a minute." She scrambled out from under the table and picked her way over to her brothers.
"I can't believe he's really here," Mary hissed furiously.
Her friends made vague noises of agreement, Luna adding, "There are much nicer places to run away from Azkaban for. Like Tahiti," which made them all chuckle.
"What I want to know," Hermione said suddenly, "is why he went up to Gryffindor. Surely everybody knows that Lizzie's a Slytherin."
Mary made a face. "But we were all at the Feast, anyway."
"Perhaps the wrackspurts have led us astray," Luna suggested.
"You think he's after something else?" Aerin asked the little blonde.
She shrugged. "The hypothesis fits the evidence, such as it is."
"He was a Gryffindor, wasn't he?" Lilian asked excitedly. Mary nodded. "Maybe he left something important in his old dorm room."
"Like what?"
"I dunno," she shrugged. "Something he made or worked on at school, or maybe a spare wand or something?"
"I really don't think Sirius Black would have left a spare wand in Gryffindor Tower just in case," Aerin said scornfully, but Hermione's eyes widened.
"The Map!"
"What map?" Ginny asked, crawling back under the table.
"Yeah, what she said," Aerin turned to Hermione. Luna cocked her head to the side slightly, listening more intently.
"Hang on," Mary said, then cast the latest Sneaking Spell over their group. "Muffliato!"
"Good idea, Liz!" Lilian repeated the spell for good measure. "Those should hold for a couple minutes." When they could finally cast it silently, it would last for an entire conversation.
"What map?" Ginny repeated herself.
"The Marauders' Map," Hermione said, pulling it out of her pocket and spreading it on the floor between them. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"
"Ooh," Luna sighed as the ink spread across it. "That's clever! A disguise against Nargles!"
"What is it?" Ginny asked, peering at it closely. "Are those dots people? Where did you get this?"
"My father and his friends, including the traitor Black, made it when they were in school," Mary answered. "And yes, all the dots are people, though I guess we're all overlapping too much to read the names now."
"I bet that is what he was after!" Lilian declared. "Just think how useful it would be if you were looking for someone!"
"Like Sirius Black?" Aerin said pointedly.
All six of them leaned in as Hermione performed the locator charm. Nothing happened.
"Damn! He must have already left the wards!" she scowled.
"What's this?" Ginny asked, pointing at one of the small circles that indicated a floor of Gryffindor Tower.
Hermione leaned over to check. "Peter Pettigrew," she said dismissively.
"The man Black blew up?" Mary asked, astonished. "But, how?"
The older girl sighed. "Well, I think it's in fairly poor taste, now that, well… you know… but Fred and George think it's a prank on Pettigrew – he was one of the Marauders, too, right?" Mary nodded. "So it makes sense, as a sort of in-joke, since he'd have seen the map. But, well, I'm getting ahead of myself. When I asked about it, they said he seems to attach himself to the Gryffindor boy, or maybe just the boy or the person in general, that the owners of the map would find most amusing. Sometimes his dot just hangs around their bed all day. Makes it look like they're together, you know? They say… well, I shouldn't laugh, but it is a bit funny… it used be attached to Prefect Weasley, and then when Ronald started, it switched to him."
Everybody shared a giggle as Mary considered this statement. "That does, actually, sound like the sort of thing they'd do, from what Remus has told me," she admitted. Not that wizards would have found anything particularly funny about two boys being together in general, but she thought she knew the Marauders well enough from Remus' stories to say that they would have thought it hilarious to make out that one of their own was dating someone he categorically wouldn't have been interested in, like Ronald Weasley.
There was a beat of silence, and then Aerin said, "Do you think we ought to give this to the Professors? If they're trying to find Black, I mean, it could be helpful."
Hermione shrugged. "So far as I can tell, it draws its information from the school wards, so anything it can tell us, the professors should already know."
"Hmmm," Aerin hummed reluctantly, but refrained from insisting.
After that, there seemed to be nothing more to say. Mary lay awake for hours, waiting for the all-clear to be given. Every so often, light lanced across the Hall from the main doors as one of the teachers poked their head in to check on the students. The ghosts floated around, apparently aimlessly, talking to the prefects to keep them awake at their posts.
Sometime around three, Dumbledore himself reappeared. He spoke to Percy, briefly, then made his way back past Mary and her friends as Snape entered the Hall.
"Headmaster? The whole of the third floor has been searched. He's not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either," her Head of House reported. Mary wondered briefly why Filch had investigated the dungeons, but decided it probably wasn't important.
"What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney's room? The Olwry?"
"All searched…"
"Very well, Severus. I didn't really expect Black to linger."
"Have you any theories as to how he got in, Professor?" asked Snape.
"Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next."
Mary squirmed around until her head was at the edge of the table and she could peek out. She could only see Percy's back, and Dumbledore's profile, pensive as always. Snape looked furious, as his eyes flickered briefly to her face. She smiled self-depreciatingly for her poor attempt at eavesdropping, and he ignored her.
"You remember the conversation we had before the start of term?" he asked.
"I do, Severus." Dumbledore's tone held a note of warning.
"It seems – almost impossible – that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed –"
Dumbledore cut him off, but it hardly mattered. When you appointed Remus Lupin, she knew that's what he'd meant to say. She glared fiercely at the Potions Master. Next chance she got, she would make a point of defending her friend, who most certainly had not helped Sirius Black sneak into the Castle.
Apparently she was in agreement with Dumbledore, for once, because he said, "I do not believe that a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it," before he changed the subject, very firmly. "I must go down to the dementors. I said I would inform them when our search was complete."
"Didn't they want to help, sir?" Percy asked. Mary had to bite back a snort at the thought of a helpful dementor. Had he not been on the train?
"Oh, yes," Dumbledore said coldly. "But I'm afraid no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster." And then he strode away again.
Snape watched him go with an expression somewhere between resentment and disbelief before he went as well, presumably to find the prefects and give them the all-clear. Mary sighed as she wriggled back into place between Lilian and Hermione.
"Alright, Liz?" Lilian asked sleepily.
"I just hate feeling so… so angry. And helpless," she admitted. There was a reason she was still awake, five hours after the end of their discussion, and it wasn't because she was scared – they all knew Black wasn't in the castle or on the grounds. It didn't help that she had taken a nap earlier, but… "It's… frustrating, being so close to the traitor who got my parents killed, and not being able to do anything," she elaborated. "And on tonight, of all nights."
One of Lilian's arms snaked under Mary's head, and the other wrapped around her chest in a sort of sideways, lying-down hug. "It'll be okay," she whispered, pulling Mary close to herself. "They'll catch him. Your parents will be avenged."
"I hope so," she mumbled back, slowly relaxing into the strange embrace. It was awkward, because the most she could do to return it was hold Lilian's hand in front of herself, but also comforting, feeling her solid presence through their sleeping bags, having her back – literally. And Lilian's arm did make a very nice pillow.
Eventually she fell asleep, with thoughts of Snape and Remus and Black chasing each other around her head, and Lilian's Quidditch-roughened hand clutched tightly over her heart.