Chapter 27: Need

"This is good. We've now confirmed my hunch that Florian is in Yaxley's gang too. Every time they try to scare us off, not only do they not succeed, but we gain more valuable information."

Ariadne, Sirius, James and Lupin were huddled in their customary corner of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall for late dinner the following day. Ariadne and Sirius were updating the other two on what had transpired the previous evening, and what that meant for the growing rivalry between the Marauders and Yaxley's band of dark wizards.

"I still wish I had been there—or rather, conscious. I put you in a dangerous and vulnerable position, leaving you alone with Clarke," said Sirius broodingly.

"Have I not amply demonstrated by this point that I can take care of myself?" asked Ariadne rhetorically.

"Morrigan kicks ass," added James helpfully.

"After what happened in the Forbidden Forest, I shouldn't encourage you to take risks like that any more."

"Stop making yourself personally responsible for everything that happens. It was my stupid hotheadedness standing up to Snape that put us in that position in the first place," said Ariadne.

"If you weren't on Yaxley's watchlist before, you certainly are now," said Sirius. "I can only imagine what you said to Florian in response to his little 'message.'"

"Don't fret, Black. I properly defended the reputation of the Marauders and told Yaxley to sod off," answered Ariadne.

"Morrigan kicked YOUR ass," added James, looking at Sirius.

Ariadne raised her eyebrows at Sirius to indicate her agreement with James. Sirius sighed. "Okay, Morrigan didn't need my help. We just aren't supposed to be continuing my track record of placing you all in risky situations."

"It's going to be a bit hard to avoid. After all, we do go to school with these people. We're brought into proximity with them all the time, whether we like it or not. Even more so, now that we know they're in multiple houses, and not just Slytherin," responded Ariadne.

"Clarice was giving me a stare that could kill a basilisk in Herbology today," corroborated James.

"Yaxley and his followers can't risk open war when the Hogwarts administration is still not on their side," said Lupin slowly.

"The Hogwarts professors have done nothing to stop Yaxley's cronies in their campaign of intimidation and harassment," said Sirius dismissively.

"Well, they haven't stopped the underground organizing and won't admit that these are coordinated attacks targeting Muggle-borns. But if they see a student attacking another in any context, they have to intervene," said Lupin.

"So basically, they won't acknowledge that this is an ideologically-driven movement of blood purity inspired by You-Know-Who himself, but they might still stick up for us if Yaxley tried to curse us in Charms class," said Ariadne.

"Precisely," agreed Lupin. "Hence, the ambush in the Forbidden Forest and all the veiled threats and secret messages."

"So they couldn't just take me out in the dungeons yesterday. Because that would certainly garner the attention of the staff," concluded Ariadne.

"It was still dangerous," argued Sirius. "I mean, look what they did to James's arm."

James, for the moment at least, seemed more preoccupied with his mashed potatoes than his injured arm.

"What I really can't believe is that you two decided to dose Sirius with an untested batch of Draught of Living Death," added Lupin in mild exasperation. "That was probably the most risky thing you did last night."

Ariadne and Sirius shared a slightly guilty glance. "My potion was perfectly safe. Besides, we had a point to prove."

"And what was that? That you both have even bigger potions egos than Snivellus?" teased James after a gulp of mashed potato.

"I trust Morrigan's potion-making abilities completely, and yes, they are superior to greaseball's, and I think that was a lesson he needed to be taught," said Sirius with just a hint of defensiveness.

"Besides, he made some truly unforgivable comments about our blood status…and other things," added Ariadne.

Lupin smiled. "You two really have more in common than I think you realize."

Ariadne was desirous of steering the conversation away from her supposed similarities with Sirius. "Do you think Snape is in the group as well?"

"No, I don't think so," said Sirius slowly. "At least, not yet. He seemed as surprised as you and I about Florian Clarke's little fight and flight. It looks like he was merely Yaxley's pawn and a convenient means of delivering a message."

"I'm admittedly a bit surprised he hasn't been recruited yet," said Lupin. "He seems like the ideal candidate."

"Maybe he exceeds their grease quota," sniggered James.

Ariadne frowned. "I agree with you, Black, I don't think he was in on the plan, but it does seem odd that he wouldn't have joined the group yet. He could be the poster-child for pure-blood fanaticism."

"It's certainly another question to add to our list," said Sirius, brow furrowed in thought.

There was a momentary lull in the conversation. James inhaled the last of his mashed potatoes and began gathering his things. "Quidditch practice in thirty minutes," he clarified.

The rest of the group began getting up as well, Ariadne muttering about all the studying she was behind on. As they left the Great Hall together and climbed the maze of staircases and hallways that would take them to the Gryffindor Common Room, Ariadne couldn't help but notice the extra attention she was getting from other students—knowing looks, gossipy whispers, envious glances from girls. She guessed that her new affinity for the Marauders had by now spread around the school, and it wasn't surprising that it was causing a bit of a stir. Ariadne had never sought the social spotlight, but was inevitably known to many as the exacting prefect, top scorer in every exam and McGonagall's favorite. To see her now join forces with the Hogwarts social elite of hotshots, rebels, and heartbreakers was no less than sensational. Ariadne didn't particularly care what the other students thought of her, but she understood from their perspective why this would be so juicy. Added to that, most were probably under the impression that she and Sirius were an item, or at least hooking up, as he had made abundantly clear in Potions class.

When they reached the left corridor of the seventh floor, which was mercifully empty of curious eyes, Sirius broke her out of her reverie by clearing his throat. "Morrigan, could I have a word with you?"

Ariadne frowned. Anything that Sirius didn't want to discuss in front of Remus and James was probably something she wasn't going to like. Sirius shot his friends a meaningful look and they continued on, though not before James audibly snickered, "I wonder what 'having a word' is a metaphor for."

Ariadne folded her arms, already preparing herself for whatever he was up to. Sirius seemed to pick up on her defensiveness. "Relax, Morrigan. I'm not about to ambush you and insult your blood status. I just wanted to know if you've given any further thought to my proposal that you disguise yourself as Clarice to sneak into one of Yaxley's meetings."

This master plan had nearly been driven out of Ariadne's mind by Snape's challenge and the subsequent drama. "I honestly haven't been able to give it much thought, between Snape's insults, Florian putting his wand to my throat and having to take care of your cold, dead body."

"C'mon, Morrigan. This isn't a difficult decision. You're clearly the right person for the job," he said persuasively. "Trust me, if I thought I could do it better, I would."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that."

"Can you, of all people, really blame me for saying that? I'm simply aware of my abilities and not shy about stating when I'm the best at something. It's no different from what you do all the time with your exams and essays."

"There's a difference between confidence and arrogance, Black."

"Oh really? Then what was 'my Draught of Living Death is perfect, and I dare you to do better'?"

"The difference between confidence and arrogance," said Ariadne deliberately and slowly, advancing on Sirius, "is that confidence is backed up by reality, while arrogance is based on exaggeration and delusion."

She stopped when she was eye level with him and about a foot away. "The assertion that my Draught of Living Death is perfect is a fact, backed up the fact that you're standing here in front of me, completely unharmed, when less than 24 hours ago, your heart had stopped beating and your pulse was nonexistent."

"Now arrogance," she continued, "is claiming that you can ace our Transfiguration final without studying."

"Morrigan, I assure you that will be no problem."

"But here's the crucial detail that marks the difference between confidence, and arrogance. You see, your statement isn't supported by fact."

"I'd like to call your attention to the fact that I've already anticipated one of McGonagall's exam questions. If you recall the little note I left you in one of your precious Transfiguration textbooks, she is almost certainly going to ask us to transform the color of a small rodent. And I have amply demonstrated my proficiency at that task," countered Sirius.

"That's only a guess," stated Ariadne dismissively. "Even if it is a good one. That's the thing, Black. You gamble on probabilities and likelihoods. And coast through a lot of life on your popularity and good looks. I leave nothing to chance."

Sirius arched an eyebrow. "What's this about my good looks?"

"That's beside my point. If you look at the actual, proven record, not your guesses and promises and claims, you'll find that your statement doesn't have much to rest on."

"And why is that?"

"Because when you look at the Transfiguration scores on our finals since fourth year, I've placed ahead of you. Every. Time."

Sirius moved even closer, eyes full of spark. "And this is where you fail to see the difference between coursework and reality. There's school, and then there's real life. And not everything is a test you can prepare for, Ariadne Morrigan."

Ariadne held his gaze, trying not to lose herself in his intense dark eyes and the playful smirk hovering around his lips. It felt like something that had been building in her for weeks was about to burst in an uncontrolled, explosive, unpredictable kind of way.

And it did.

She grabbed Sirius by the front of his robes and pinned him to the wall behind them, crushing her lips into his. If Sirius was surprised, it was only momentary, because he soon responded with equal enthusiasm.

He sank his fingers into her long, luscious hair, and with his other hand grabbed her waist to press her closer to him. Ariadne's senses were on fire. She felt the heat emanating from his body as her hands grazed the solid chest under his robes, and was acutely aware of his hands slipping under hers to brush the bare skin where her blouse and skirt met. In one of the brief pauses to catch their breath, Sirius murmured into her ear, "Jesus Christ, Morrigan. Finally."

Ariadne had no idea what she was thinking or planning to do next past feverishly snogging Sirius Black in the middle of an empty corridor, with Barnabas the Barmy rolling his eyes and casting them disgusted glances across the way. Fortunately, the castle seemed to have something in mind.

Because their bodies were so close together, Ariadne felt when something seemed to shift in the wall behind Sirius. He stuck out a hand to support them both, but instead of meeting stone castle wall, his hand landed on a doorknob, which twisted under his grip.

They stumbled and fell backwards into an open doorway, Ariadne landing right on top of Sirius. For a second they were both to stunned to move. Then Ariadne awkwardly propped herself up on her elbows and knees to get up. Sirius seemed a little reluctant to alter their position of intimate proximity, but followed suit. "Where the hell are we?"

Ariadne was thinking the same thing but hadn't expressed it out loud. They were in a cozy, warm circular room with a fireplace crackling merrily at one end. There was a table with a few books—some looked familiar to Ariadne. And the centerpiece of the room was a beautiful four-poster bed hung with scarlet and gold. The room seemed to be an odd cross between the Gryffindor common room and a dormitory.

"I swear this room didn't exist five minutes ago," said Sirius. He was now fumbling with a ragged scrap of parchment. The Marauder's Map unfolded in front of him. "It's not on the map, either."

"It must be a magical room that only exists under certain circumstances," murmured Ariadne, still looking around. "It wouldn't be on your map if you didn't know it was here."

"The Marauder's Map is very comprehensive," said Sirius defensively.

Ariadne walked around and began touching the walls, as if to determine if they were real. "Incantatem revelio," she said, flicking her wand. Nothing happened.

"Morrigan…you might want to see this," said Sirius, staring at the map and now frowning.

Ariadne walked over to him and looked at the map. "We're not on the map anymore," he said.

"What?"

"We've disappeared off the map. I can't find our dots anywhere." His brow furrowed even further. "Do you think we've left the castle grounds? Like a secret passageway?"

"Somehow, I don't think so…We didn't travel anywhere. We just fell through this door."

"We could have been magically transported."

"Travel in and out of Hogwarts grounds is tightly restricted by various enchantments. That's why you can't Apparate within the grounds. Pretty much the only ways to get in and out are by thestral or on foot."

"Well, you're the expert."

Ariadne was now examining the small stack of books on the table. To her surprise, many of her favorite historical and theoretical texts were there. Hogwarts, A History was in the stack as well as a lesser-known favorite from the 18th century, Founders and Fictions: The Mysteries of Hogwarts School. Seeing the title jogged something in her memory.

"I think I know where we are."

"Feel free to enlighten me at your leisure."

Ariadne shot him a look. For someone she had just been passionately kissing a moment before, he could be so annoying. "Hogwarts lore sometimes speaks of a room that comes and goes at the user's need. It's only a legend, and no one in recent memory has been able to prove its existence. But it's thought that one of the founders or perhaps an early student created a magical room that only comes into being when a Hogwarts student or staff really needs it."

"So you think this is that room?"

"It makes sense. It's a complicated and ancient kind of magic where the space is conjured by psychological need, and it takes its shape from the memories and consciousness of the person that needs it. It would explain why it's not on the map and why you don't know about it—because if we come back to this precise spot in the seventh-floor corridor tomorrow…"

"There won't be anything here."

"Exactly."

"Not bad, Morrigan."

She deflected the compliment. "The only question is, why did it appear for us, and why did it take this form? What do we need?"

Sirius looked highly amused. "Morrigan, for such a brilliant witch, you can be so oblivious."

"What do you mean?"

Sirius gestured at the magnificent four-poster bed. "I think it's fairly obvious for what purpose this room was created."

Ariadne was abruptly flooded with all the sensations she had been overwhelmed by only minutes ago—the heat, Sirius's touch, his lips against hers.

Sirius grinned at her and held out his hand. "Shall we?"

A/N: The moment I know you've all been waiting for