Chapter 37: Masquerade, Part 4
"I would now like to thank our distinguished guests for honoring us with their presence tonight."
Ariadne and Sirius had re-entered the masquerade party to an unusual scene. James Potter, sporting his scarlet-and-gold lion mask and crimson dress robes, neatly set off by a gold tie, was standing on a table at the center of the common room and delivering a formal address to the attendees.
"The Bloodiest of Barons," James continued, inclining his head toward the Bloody Baron, "your Fatness, Friar of Hufflepuff," the Fat Friar bobbed up and down near the enchanted, starry ceiling, "and last but not least, Gryffindor's very own virtually decapitated alumnus, Nearly Headless Nick." Nick bowed in acknowledgement, holding on to his head, and there was a light smattering of applause. James hastily added, "I think that Peeves, the official infernal nuisance of Hogwarts, is also around here somewhere. I'm sure he will make his presence known at the appropriate time.
"I would also like to welcome our visitors from other Houses. I hope that tonight, we can provide you with a true showing of Gryffindor…hospitality."
He paused dramatically.
"Welcome, my witches, wizards, warlocks and spirits, to the Hogwarts Halloween Masquerade."
With these words, James ripped off his dress robes to reveal a bare, hairy torso and magically-enhanced claws. Every torch and candle in the common room was extinguished with a gust of chilling wind, and a glowing full moon emerged from behind the clouds in the celestial ceiling to illuminate the space instead. The silvery light cast eerie shadows over the stone walls, some of which, Ariadne noticed, seemed to creep and move with a life of their own. James uttered a wild, mournful howl, and started up a more primal, bass-y music, quite a contrast from the stately waltzes of earlier. The tables of drink and food slid over to the sides of the room, leaving a space in the middle for the dance floor. The entire common room itself seemed to have expanded, even as the darkness closed in on them.
All around Ariadne and Sirius, Hogwarts students were throwing off their robes and stripping down to their costumes. Ariadne turned to Sirius to find that he had grown a pair of sleek white fangs. Instead of the traditional red collar and black robes over a doublet, he had opted for a bare chest under a black, studded leather jacket, with black pants and boots to match. He had mussed his hair just the right amount and somehow given his lips a just-bitten, bright red tint, and Ariadne couldn't deny that the overall effect was striking and alluring.
"More of a Muggle-inspired look this year, I see?" observed Ariadne.
"It's not something I picked up from Muggle Studies, love." He winked at her. "This is my motorbike gear." He nodded at Ariadne, who was still wearing her dress robes. "Well, let's what you've got under there, Morrigan." He paused. "Aside from what I've already seen, that is."
Ariadne let the innuendo slide and snapped her fingers. Her gauzy blue dress robes disappeared and were replaced by an elegantly draped white fabric that hung off her bare shoulders and fell in soft folds to her feet. She also conjured a ball of bright red yarn to her hand.
Sirius failed to respond for so long that Ariadne prompted, "Don't tell me you don't know your classical mythology, Black. Medea was the greatest ancient sorceress, after all, and Ariadne of Crete was likely a witch, too."
Sirius seemed to be brought back to earth by her words. "Of course I understand the allusion, Morrigan. Though whether or not the Ariadne of mythology possessed magical powers—debatable. It was Theseus that slew the Minotaur, after all, and that would have required a wizard's abilities."
"He couldn't have navigated the labyrinth without Ariadne's help."
Instead of continuing to disagree with her, as she expected, Sirius tilted his head slightly, as if to take her in more fully. "Perhaps you're right. You look so much like a Greek goddess come to life from the pages of a history book that it's hard to imagine Ariadne of Crete wasn't also a witch. You're truly…transcendent." He took her hand. "Dance with me, Ariadne of Hogwarts?"
…
"I swear it was all Remus' idea. He thought it would be funny." James smiled wickedly through his magically enlarged, wolflike canines.
"I'm not sure I'll ever grasp your sense of humor, Potter," replied Ariadne.
"I mean if you really think about it, it's the perfect ruse to ensure that no one suspects the truth. After all, who would be crazy enough to dress up as a werewolf if their best friend is actually a werewolf? They'll never suspect!"
Ariadne raised an eyebrow. "I think Potter missed the introduction to logic lessons in intermediate Transfiguration last year."
"I think Potter's missed most of Transfiguration for most of the last year," drawled Sirius.
Ariadne and the Marauders were taking a brief retreat from an intense hour on the dance floor. Now that the "proper", formal segment of the masquerade was over, students were fully availing of themselves of the kind of party only Gryffindor could throw, which included a seemingly endless supply of alcohol, many willing dance partners, and an overall attitude of partying like this was the last night of fun they'd ever experience.
"Did you really approve of this, Remus?" asked Priya, her eyes alight with curiosity. Ariadne's slight intervention into their relationship had succeeded; Remus had let Priya in on his close-held secret. So far, it seemed to have had a positive effect on them both and relieved a great deal of the strain caused by his withdrawnness.
"I think it's fairly harmless," said Remus, his smile a little less reserved than usual as a result of a couple Butterbeers. "Werewolf is a popular costume for wizards and Muggles alike, no one will think anything of it."
James attempted a snarl. "What d'you think, Lupin? Realistic enough?" Sirius whacked him reprovingly around the head with his mask.
"Well, I think the most realistic costume award has to go to Morrigan. She literally dressed up as her own name," said James.
Ariadne shrugged. "My father was very imaginative with names. And he always wanted to name his children after a magical sperson that both wizards and Muggles would know."
"Was one of Greek Ariadne's powers irresistible seduction, 'cause if so, you're nailing that too," said James, after Ariadne was approached by yet another solicitation to dance, which she politely declined.
"I suppose this is the most shoulder most Hogwarts boys ever get to see," Ariadne responded after the rejected suitor left, indicating her own bare ones.
"That guy wasn't half bad-looking…might've been a Slytherin, though," commented James, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
"Not up to your standards, Ariadne? Or are you only dancing with Sirius tonight?" probed Priya slyly. Ariadne discreetly took note of the fact that everyone in the group was suddenly paying close attention to her answer.
"It's nothing like that," replied Ariadne, adjusting the folds of her dress slightly. "I'd just prefer to fully enjoy myself tonight." She let that cryptic response linger for just a moment. "And Sirius is a better dancer."
James let out an incongruous wolf-whistle, Priya gave Ariadne a knowing look, and Sirius seemed immensely satisfied with her answer.
"On that note, what do you magnetically attractive folk say to getting back out there?" Ariadne noticed that although James was speaking to them, his eyes were elsewhere, following a pretty red-headed sixth-year Ariadne recognized as Lily Evans.
"Ooh yes, I love this song." Priya grabbed a bemused-looking Lupin by the arm and dragged him up from his seat.
Sirius wordlessly offered Ariadne his own arm. Ariadne could almost feel the intense satisfaction radiating from him at being chosen as her preferred dance partner out of all others.
Ariadne hadn't merely said that for his benefit (and it seemed like Sirius knew this.) It was true. Sirius moved with her powerfully, confidently and sensually. Their bodies were perfectly in sync—whether from the practice they had accumulated putting their bodies together in other ways, or for some other reason, Ariadne didn't know. But she usually preferred to dance alone or with a group of her friends—until she started dancing with Sirius.
The music was deep, thrumming and fluid. Ariadne lightly placed a hand on the studded leather shoulder of Sirius's jacket as they moved in unison and he enclosed her waist in his arm, pulling her closer. His lips brushed her hair as he murmured into her ear, "Would you do me the honor of coming back to my bed with me tonight, beautiful Ariadne?"
At that precise moment, the celestial ceiling that was lighting the dance floor went black, and silence fell over the common room. To her horror, Ariadne realized that she had stopped moving and was completely immobilized. A figure wreathed in ghostly green light rose in the center of the dance floor. He was wearing a mask patterned like a skull.
"Students of Hogwarts school." He spoke in a harsh, echoing voice, as though there were five of him, and all had vocal cords strummed by metal saws. "The Dark Lord demands tributes of your loyalty. The darkness grows. The walls of this castle will not protect you forever. Join him, or perish in darkness." He finished speaking and his head hung down toward his chest, as if he were a puppet whose master had let go of his strings. A moment later, Ariadne realized that the immobilizing spell had lifted and she could feel her limbs again.
"Stupefy!" screamed two voices in unison. The red beams of light merely passed through the man's body. The starry lights and the moon returned, and the common room was flooded with panicked voices and confusion.
Ariadne and Sirius rushed to the center of the floor where the man had been standing. His image was already fading.
"Doubling enchantment," said Ariadne, stating the obvious. She was frustrated almost to tears. Sirius released a few choice curses.
"Can you trace it?" he asked.
"No. Not enough time."
They looked at each other helplessly.
…
Ariadne couldn't sleep. She had been tossing and turning in her four-poster for almost two hours, and it was already late when McGonagall had finally gotten the situation under control and ordered everyone to bed.
She replayed the haunting message over and over in her head, unable to stop thinking about how easily Voldemort's followers had slipped into Hogwarts, her safe haven, and son the most sacred wizarding night of the year, no less. Even after the ambush by Clarice, even after her run-ins with Yaxley and Florian Clarke, Ariadne had always felt safe at Hogwarts. Now, that feeling was no more.
Ariadne left her bed and slipped down the stairs, silently deactivating and reactivating the sensing charms McGonagall had placed in the common room. She instead took the stairs to the boys' dormitory, climbing to the very top.
The door to the seventh-year dormitory was ajar and the curtains to Sirius's four-poster bed were slightly open, as if he had been expecting her. He was awake, of course. He lifted up the covers and she crawled in, curling up on his chest. Neither of them said a word. He wrapped her in his arms and gently stroked her hair until they both fell asleep.