Chapter 6: Silence and Noise

Ariadne might have told off the Ravenclaw who came around banging loudly on the portrait hole door complaining about the noise, but she couldn't clearly remember. The supply of Firewhiskey on the table was getting dangerously low, and so was the neckline of her blouse as she opened button after button in the hopes of cooling down a bit. The party was getting louder and looser than ever. James Potter had put his reversal spell skills to good use and, after having accomplished the feat on the ground, was now chugging a pint of Butterbeer upside down from the ceiling, egged on by an increasingly hoarse crowd. Florence Pettiford and Stebbins looked more or less like clothed versions of the mating nifflers Ariadne had observed in Care of Magical Creatures last week, and Priya and Lupin were giggling in the shadows by the fireplace, swaddled in one of the crimson Gryffindor banners she had torn off the wall. Meanwhile, a cluster of closely-packed bodies appeared to be writhing in the shadows in time to the music still blasting from the wireless set.

"It's too loud," muttered Ariadne.

"Pardon, love?"

"It's too LOUD in here," Ariadne said again, practically yelling to be heard over the pounding bass. "There's no way McGonagall or Filch isn't going to notice."

Sirius shrugged. "And if they do? We get shut down eventually. At least we can enjoy ourselves until then."

"And if they do, it's my fault for allowing things to get out of control, as the prefect on-duty."

"Relax, Morrigan. McGonagall loves you. You can get away with one night of debauchery."

"You might not give a murtlap's arse about your reputation, Black, but some of us have ambitions."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. "First of all, I do have a very important reputation to maintain, it just doesn't involve being McGonagall's pet and measuring down to the half-inch of my parchment for Vector's essays. It has more to do with, say, how many shots of Firewhiskey I've taken in one night and exactly what I did to greasy Snivellus that he can no longer look straight at a flobberworm. Second, are you telling me that this—" he gestured around at the party, James' screaming fanclub, the tightly wound cluster of dancing bodies, all flickering in the torchlight—"isn't ambitious?"

Ariadne rolled her eyes. "Being a borderline alcoholic and throwing wild parties? These are supposed to be your great accomplishments?"

"You forgot being effortlessly brilliant and irresistibly attractive," he added in a low voice, leaning in close to her ear so she could hear him. The next thing she heard was the pop of yet another bottle of butterbeer being opened. "Cheers," he added, taking a swig.

Ariadne wondered why she was even having this conversation. Then, she finally arrived at a solution to the noise problem, as if a lumos charm had been set off in her alcohol-fogged brain.

Silencing charms! Of course. How could she have been so stupid?

"I'm such an idiot," she muttered out loud to herself.

"I wouldn't be quite so hard on yourself, love."

Ariadne ignored him. She needed to thoroughly saturate the walls of the common room with silencing charms, essentially creating a soundproof barrier between them and the rest of the castle. Based on the circumference of the circular room and the level of noise, she guessed it would take a high density of charms per square foot to accomplish this. It would take too long to do it all herself…

"Black," she said suddenly, grabbing his arm. "Help me."

Sirius seemed surprised by the sudden physical contact, but not entirely opposed to it. "How can I be of service, Miss Morrigan? If it's more alcoholic beverages you require, I can provide that. Or maybe you need help with something else…?" he trailed off suggestively.

"Help me put silencing charms around the common room walls so that annoying Ravenclaw doesn't come back."

She had already turned around and gestured for him to follow. This time, it was his turn to grab her arm.

"Ah-ah-ah… no prefect stuff tonight."

Ariadne swung around. "Excuse me?"

He didn't loosen his grip on her arm. "You're not allowed to do any prefect duties tonight. Remember the deal?"

Ariadne wrinkled her nose in confusion and annoyance. "I remember 'do the reading, and I'll come to the party.' That was the extent of the deal, Black."

"You agreed to come to the party...in the capacity of a regular Gryffindor. Not as a prefect."

"Did you read the appendices to Theorizing Transformation?"

"Did I—what?"

"Don't add extraneous conditions to your side of the deal, Black, and I won't add any to mine. Now, are you going to help me with these silencing charms, or not?"

Sirius sighed and took another sip of his beer. Ariadne uncomfortably noticed that he still had not let go of her arm and wrenched it away. Sirius raised his eyebrows at her, sighed again, and finally said in a meant-to-be-casual sort of voice, "McGonagall and Filch aren't coming."

Ariadne raised her eyebrows. "And how do you know that?"

"They aren't. Just…trust me."

"Trust you…like I trusted you to stick to this deal? Or maybe in the library, when I was supposed to trust you about your 'top secret important mission?'"

Sirius gave Ariadne an insufferably exasperated look, as though she were making his life supremely difficult. "All right, Morrigan, since you won't accept the easy answer…let me let you in on a little secret. Follow me." And he headed toward the staircase leading to the boys' dormitory.