Smarter than You
This was it. I was officially twenty-two years old. I didn't feel any different; my hair was still as tangled as ever, and I certainly hadn't grown since my fifth year at Hogwarts (unfortunately).
I inspected my flat quietly. My bed was unmade, my thick orange blankets collected in a heap on the floor. Dozens of case files were scattered across the kitchen table. Books were strewn across the floor near the corner of the living room. It didn't look like a flat belonging to a lively, organised twenty-two year old. It looked like a flat belonging to a tired and disorganised twenty-two year old.
Sighing heavily, I walked to the corner and bent down to place the books back in their rightful places. Rose wouldn't have left it in a mess. I felt another pang at the thought; Merlin, I missed having her around.
Lady Bacon hooted from her corner, picking at the remains of her lunch. I'd left the window open so she could fly in and out with ease, and when I'd returned to the flat last night I found the floor littered with owl pellets (that made for a fun cleaning endeavor).
I made my way back to the kitchen table, half-heartedly flipping through the case files for what seemed like the twenty-third time (actually, it was the twelfth). Although I had slept in until eleven, my eyes still felt heavy and my limbs sluggish. Brushing aside a 1609 case transcript, my finger caught against a heavy, richly embossed card. I picked it up curiously, my heart sinking when I saw that it was the invitation to the ball. I'd completely forgotten about the Ministry Charity Ball's existence, Numberita having long discarded it for more important information (such as ancient Bulgarian runes and how to survive a werewolf attack).
The invitation dictated the start time as 7 PM. I glanced at the clock; it was 4 PM now, which meant I had three hours to locate a dress and slog my way to the Ministry. Now that Numberita considered it, I did vaguely remember Henry mentioning an "absolutely incredible rebuilding effort by the Ministry" to ready the ground floor in time. Although I had reservations about attending a ball during a time of war, I did understand the potential benefits; it was a fairly easy way to assure the public that the Ministry was in control and that they had nothing to worry about.
I stared blindly at the invitation, weariness clinging to my bones. I was twenty-two and tired. Heavy dark circles were printed underneath my eyes, and my mouth had settled into a permanent, worried frown. In a fit of vanity and insomnia-induced panic last night, I'd covered each mirror with heavy cloth - no need to remind myself of my changed state.
I heard a rustle of feathers as Lady Bacon left her perch, gliding across the room to land elegantly on the corner of the wooden table.
"Hello, Lady Bacon," I greeted mournfully.
She tilted her head, fixing me with stern amber eyes.
I let my head fall to the table with a dull thud, my nose pressing into the thick piles of parchment.
She hooted again, hopping closer. Then, with a dignified huff of air, she swatted my head with a heavy blow of her wings. I jolted upwards, banging my knees against the table, and gave her a wounded look.
"Hey!" I protested. She stared back at me unblinkingly, raising her wings slightly in preparation of another attack.
I groaned, clutching at my throbbing head (note to self: do not anger Lady Bacon. Owl wings hurt). Fine. Point taken: bouts of self-pity triggered pain by owl.
I got up from the table and, under Lady Bacon's watchful eye, turned on the faucet. Then, without giving myself time to consider what I was about to do, I stuck my head under the freezing cold water.
Gah! Gah gah gahgahgah dear Merlin this water was cold. I pulled myself from the sink, gasping for air. My hair was plastered to my head, and rivulets of icy cold water ran down my back. The water, while painful, had finally woken me up; I felt energized in a way I hadn't for days.
Not wanting to lose my sudden momentum, I ran to my bedroom and flung open the closet door. I rifled through the heaps of office-appropriate clothing, searching for the dress my great aunt had given to me back in fifth year (well, that was one benefit to not growing).
I pushed past a black blazer, fumbling blindly, before brushing against a delicate, gauzy material that whispered against my rough skin.
Victory! Pulling the dress carefully from my closet, I allowed myself a moment to admire it. Great Aunt Elizabeth, while admittedly dictatorial (literally; for her one hundredth and second birthday she wanted a week in which she could be worshipped and obeyed as the "Almighty One"), had great taste in clothes; the dress, which probably reached calf-length on an average female, would brush the floor for me. The top part (there was probably a technical term for that; note to self: ask Dominique) was translucent, delicate white flowers and impossibly thin silver-black branches reaching upwards from the waist to cover the torso. The white flowers reached down to the waist before giving way to the gauzy, clouded fabric of the skirt. The fabric floated, faded purple clouds billowing across the light grey layers.
I ran my fingers against the skirt, marvelling at the shifting colours. I'd been saving this dress for a special occasion (fifteen-year-old Adela had wanted it for her future induction as either the Baroness of Bacon or the Exalted Winner of the brownie eating contest).
A distant knock interrupted my thoughts. I frowned; who could that be? Dominique was visiting her sister, Vane and Al were busy handling the goblin crisis, Rose was unconscious, Scorpius was probably with Rose, and I'd just seen Seth.
I approached the door cautiously, pulling my wand from the pocket of my fleece pajamas (okay, so I was still in my pajamas at three in the afternoon, but so what?). My throat tightened in anxious trepidation as I slowly, carefully, reached up to peer through the peephole.
Warm brown eyes stared back, framed by auburn lashes. My heart caught, my breath hissing between my teeth; Rose.
How…? When…? I pushed aside the barrage of questions that rose in Numberita, focusing instead on a single word: Rose.
I stumbled backwards, yanking the door open with trembling hands. My hand gripped the doorknob, frozen, stiff, as I stared at Rose Weasley.
She looked thinner, paler, but other than that, she looked the same. She smiled, her eyes wet, before rushing forward and enveloping me in a tight hug. I squeezed my eyes shut, my hands shaking in the air for six seconds before coming down slowly, carefully, to fold over her bony shoulders (Merlin, she really had lost a lot of weight).
"Rose," I said haltingly, my throat hoarse. She was shaking, too, and I feared if I let go she would disappear through the wooden floor, vanish back into St. Mungo's.
We stayed there, shaking, for another two minutes and forty-three seconds before someone coughed behind her. My eyes flung open, my body tensing; how had I not noticed her companion?
I automatically stepped forward, half-hiding Rose behind me, before relaxing, letting out a jagged breath.
Scorpius arched a brow but thankfully didn't comment on my tense appearance. He looked back at Rose, his grey eyes filled with wonder, and he cautiously reached forward, brushing against Rose's sweater as if he, too, had to convince himself that she was really here.
Rose laughed, and it sounded so much like Rose that I felt like crying all over again.
"Happy birthday, Adela," she said warmly. Then she frowned, a guilty expression passing over her eyes, "I'm sorry I don't have a gift for you, I-"
"Are you kidding?" I interrupted. "I don't need a gift. I'm just glad you're here; when were you released?"
She leaned against Scorpius, pursing her lips as she thought. "Thirty minutes ago, give or take a few minutes. I woke up last night, but they wanted to observe me. Healer Park was amazing; she created the potion that revived me. Just in time for the charity event, too."
Note to self: shower Elise with dozens of candies and flowers. Throw a parade in her honour. Name firstborn child "Elise." If male, still name him "Elise."
"I have to go retrieve my dress robes, but I'll see you soon," Scorpius said, looking reluctant to leave. Rose nodded, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek.
He turned to leave before changing his mind and swiveling abruptly, kissing her fiercely on the mouth.
My smile gradually turned to an uncomfortable grimace as the kiss dragged on, and finally I said, "Er, I'll be in my room when you - uh - extract yourself from the Malfoy Barnacle."
Rose didn't appear to have heard me, so I shrugged and left the couple, my steps light.
Once in my room, I retrieved my dress and, forlornly shedding my pajamas (they really were quite comfortable; I'd even charmed the pockets to be larger so they could fit my midnight snacks), carefully slipped into the delicate fabric. After cinching the waist with the narrow black ribbon, I tucked my wand underneath the ribbon.
"Merlin, Adela, you look beautiful," Rose said from the doorway. I turned, the dress floating over my bare feet.
"Thanks. Are you sure you're up to going to the ball? I can stay with you here; I'm sure I can enchant the dress to have pockets, and we can gorge ourselves on snacks and watch cool Muggle movies," I offered (actually, now that I'd said it, that option was rather more appealing).
She shook her head. "No, I've been away for far too long. Besides, this is a good way to let everyone know I'm back."
She strode to my closet and, after looking for my approval, took the dress Dominique had lent me for another Ministry event a few years ago that I had forgotten to return (oops; I was notoriously bad with returning borrowed objects. I'd borrowed Seth's cauldron back in third year for three months and then forgot about it. By the time I'd remembered, some second years had accidentally Transfigured it into a brass mirror).
She slipped into it quickly before turning to me. The dress was relatively simple, an emerald floor-length dress with an open back, but on Rose it looked stunning.
"You look amazing," I said honestly, and she grinned.
"It's the St. Mungo's air; it's great for the complexion," she said airily. She extended her bare arm towards me with an exaggerated air; "My dear, would you do me the honour of accompanying me to this ball?"
I beamed, placing my hand delicately in hers. "Why, of course," I said.
Someone knocked sharply on the door, and I went to open it, feeling only a sliver of the anxiety I had felt earlier. I peered through the peephole, my brows furrowing when I only caught a glimpse of a pale, high cheekbone marred only by a smudge of an angry red bruise blooming in the hollow of his cheek. Then the person shifted slightly, raven black hair coming into view momentarily as he ducked his head.
The door was open in the next second, and I jumped forward, wrapping my arms tightly around Al's (Al. Merlin, I loved even thinking his name) neck. He staggered backwards, his arms reaching up automatically to circle my waist as my feet left the ground. I pressed my face against his neck, breathing shakily.
Well, today was certainly a day for hugging.
Al let me down slowly but didn't step away, his arms still tight around my waist. I tilted my head back to look at his face, frowning when I noticed the bruise ran all the way down his jaw.
I reached up carefully, just brushing it with my fingers.
"How are you here?" I asked.
"Dad needed Aurors to watch the Charity ball; I volunteered out of the goodness of my heart," he answered.
"Really," I said dryly.
He shrugged. "Well, I might have been motivated to see a certain genius," he said lightly.
Merlin, I didn't think my smile could get any wider; I was practically bouncing with happiness.
"A genius, huh? Smarter than you, then," I said.
He grinned. "Without a doubt."
"Oi!"
I turned, still nestled against Al, and laughed when I saw Rose with a look of exaggerated horror on her face.
"You're stealing my date?" she demanded, striding forward.
Al rested his chin against the top of my head. "Mm," he said.
I grinned, stepping away from Al's embrace. "Don't worry, Rose. I'd never abandon you," I said.
She sniffed, looking pointedly away. Then she stilled, staring at the clock opposite her.
"We're going to be late!" she groaned. I followed her gaze; we still had twenty minutes, and it only took seven seconds to Apparate.
Despite Al's disbelieving protests, Rose grabbed my arm and, sticking her tongue out at Al, pulled me with her as she Apparated to the ballroom.
We stumbled on the slick marble hallway outside of the main ballroom. Al joined us six seconds later, glaring at his cousin.
"Careful. You wouldn't want me to let a certain aunt know her daughter is Apparating mere hours after her release from the hospital," he warned. Rose rolled her eyes (perhaps it ran in the family along with the whole infuriating stubbornness).
"Good luck getting to her; she'll be swarmed by clients by now."
As Al and Rose argued, I caught a glimpse of white-blonde hair behind Rose. Scorpius ran towards Rose, catching her hand with his.
She beamed instantly, all traces of her prior irritation gone. "Scorpius!" she breathed. He murmured something to her, and she laughed before looking at me hesitatingly.
"Go," I urged. "I'll talk to you later."
She smiled gratefully and left with Scorpius.
I turned to Al. "Well, as I've been abandoned, I suppose I'll have to settle for you," I said with a sigh.
He rolled his eyes, but the action was half-hearted. The hallway rang with continual loud cracks as guests Apparated, and with each noise he would turn, his shoulders bunching higher and higher.
I glanced around nervously before pulling Al into the expansive ballroom.
"What is it?"
He looked down distractedly before shaking his head. "Sorry, I'll be a terrible companion. There are only two Aurors on duty, and what with the recent events…" his voice trailed off, and his jaw set.
"Al. What did you find in the Department?"
He eyed the chattering guests milling around us and began walking towards a more secluded corner. I followed him, Numberita whirling with increasingly absurd theories (Ragnuk. Greyback. A giant. A dragon. A walking, talking rasher of bacon. A Muggle.).
The far wall was quieter. Most of the guests were clustered around the long table of refreshments at the opposite end. Al turned to me, lowering his voice. "Nothing. The Unspeakables wouldn't let us in; unfortunately, they have authority over everyone but the Minister, and Shacklebolt wouldn't overrule them. They said it was to repair the spells, but…"
"-You don't believe them," I finished. I looked at the bruise again.
"A falling rock did that. At least there was some validity to the Unspeakables' reason," Al explained.
His eyes flashed to something behind me. "Rose," he greeted. I turned, seeing Rose's worried expression.
"Ragnuk's advancing," she said flatly.
Al nodded. "Yes."
She closed her eyes for two seconds before opening them, fixing us with a hard, determined look. Then she said, "What can I do to help?"
Al shook his head, but a sudden thought came to Numberita. "Actually, do you know what XXXX means?" I asked.
She frowned. Then, after two minutes and thirty-eight seconds, her eyes widened.
"Oh!" she exclaimed. She sprang into action, turning on her heel to sprint away.
"Rose?" I called after her.
She turned her head, still pushing past the disgruntled guests. "I think I have something, but I need to confirm it! I'll be right back!" she shouted.
Al groaned. "I wish she wouldn't do that. She could have just told us her hunch," he complained.
I shook my head. "There's no stopping Rose once she's on the trail."
The steady music had grown in volume, rich strings swelling as the first dance began. I felt Al's eyes on me, and I flushed, feeling like a giddy sixteen year old all over again.
He stepped closer, curling a long finger around my pinky.
We stood side by side, observing the room quietly, our hands barely touching.
The first dance ended, the lull of conversation overtaking the fading music.
Everywhere, people laughed. The clink of delicate glass floated across the underlying rumble of chatter. The candles lighting the ballroom were warm, washing the white marble with golden light.
"Happy birthday, Adela," Al said from beside me. I turned, my eyes widening when I saw the small cluster of violet flowers curled between his hands. The petals were velvety smooth and wide, and the pale green leaves were fringed.
"Aconite," I breathed. Wolfsbane. The flowers were incredibly rare and coveted for their use in the Draught of Living Death...and, more importantly, their potency against werewolves. I'd thought about purchasing some for myself when I'd first heard of Greyback's escape, but I hadn't been able to locate any.
"Where…?"
"Someone owed me a favour," he said. He looked a little anxious, which I found incredibly endearing. "Er, I'll get you a proper, non-violence related gift when all this is over, but-"
"I love it," I said firmly. "Thank you."
I tucked the flowers carefully underneath my belt, nestling them against my wand. Then, before Numberita had a chance to think of all the reasons why this was a bad idea (he was on duty, I shouldn't distract him-), I leaned up and kissed him.
My surroundings faded away as my thoughts stilled -
My toes tingled, sparks of warmth igniting my cheeks and fingers as I pressed closer -
"WITCHES AND WIZARDS," boomed a dry, cold voice.
I froze, my lip still caught between his -
No. No -
Al, blinking away his dazed expression, warm green shifting to hard, dark, dark green (eyes ready for anything; eyes ready to fight) -
I turned, my heart sinking as I saw the candles' light had been corrupted, stretched and twisted to form a projection of Ragnuk's face on the arching ceiling.
The guests were frozen, unsure of what to do. Some fell to the ground in an attempt to distance themselves from the coldly smiling face above them.
"POOR, POOR WITCHES AND WIZARDS," Ragnuk continued. He laughed.
Al turned to me. "Adela, please, please stay safe," he said hoarsely. I nodded jerkily, still numb. He looked at me heatedly, looking like he was about to say something, before shutting his mouth. He was gone in the next instant, his wand held out determinedly as he cut through the crowds.
"QUITE LITERALLY. POOR WITCHES AND WIZARDS," Ragnuk's voice boomed.
I staggered against the wall as confused murmurings rose. He had Gringotts. He had Gringotts.
Ragnuk surveyed the panicked crowds with satisfaction, and I quickly inserted myself in a nearby throng of witches. I was a coward, but I didn't want to be seen, didn't want to be singled out. Not tonight. Not today. Not on the day that had started out so achingly, wonderfully perfect.
"IT IS YOUR TURN. TOO LONG WE HAVE BEEN SUBJUGATED, TOO LONG HAVE WE LIVED UNDER THE TYRANNY OF THE WIZARD. IF YOU TOO HAVE BEEN OPPRESSED, IF YOU WISH TO TAKE UP THIS MIGHTY CAUSE, TO HAVE REVENGE, YOU ARE WELCOME TO JOIN. YOU CAN PERSUADE YOUR BRETHREN, SPREAD THE WORD. A NEW ORDER HAS BEGUN."
The candles spluttered, the light winking out of existence, before dropping to the ground with a tremendous crash. The room was plunged into complete darkness, and someone screamed loudly. Almost immediately two brilliant orbs of blue light were flung to the ceiling, and more soon followed. I dimly made out Al in the center of the room, back to back with another Auror as they cast Lumos and directed the crowds out of the ballroom.
I blindly followed the witches I'd joined, too stunned to do anything else.
"A new order? What does that even mean?" one of the girls asked.
"Why would they want revenge? Revenge for what?" another demanded.
"Power," I murmured.
The girls turned, staring at me. "What?" the first one asked.
"They want power. No one remains at the top forever; they want to claim their spot, and we've cleared the path for them. Not letting them have access to magic, treating them as lesser beings, the wands," I explained hurriedly.
"What?"
"They want revenge. Revenge for their lost opportuniti-" my word cut off as a terrible thought struck Numberita.
"Lost opportunities. They never got to learn magic with wands, never got seven years of education devoted solely to magic - Hogwarts. They went after Hogwarts first - I thought it was just because students were easy targets, but no, it was personal, they wanted the soaring castle and the classes and the power of knowledge-"
Rose. Rose was probably at Hogwarts; Rose, who always rushed to the familiarity of the Hogwarts library when she wanted to research something. Rose, who had only just recovered. Rose, whom I refused to lose again.
Author Note: SO MUCH FLUFF WOW. That's the extent of my fluff writing capabilities. Anymore and I'd collapse (now, histrionics - that I can write). Thank you all so much for reading! As always, all reviewers will get a teaser of the next chapter C:
Guest Review Replies at quillstrike dot tumblr dot com/post/118541700419/ocat-ch-31-guest-review-replies