cclxxxi. drums in the deep
With a defeated yawn, Elara let her forehead thunk against the table's edge. She closed her eyes and wished she could go to sleep.
She'd been reading for hours. Hours and hours of studying, having skipped lunch and Divinations, and she had so little to show for it. Elara wanted to sink through the floor—potentially through Hogwarts itself, and float right down to the dungeons and land in her bed. She could stay ensconced there until morning without issue.
Wouldn't that be lovely?
The thing about Dark magic was it did and didn't enjoy being perceived—which proved a nightmare for anyone attempting to read old texts and grimoires to learn it. The magic ached to be remembered, hated to be forgotten—and yet, it didn't like being explicated, laid out in notes with little check marks and smudges of highlighter. The letters had a propensity to change languages, shifting to tongues not spoken in this earthly realm, and only peering through her Atlas brought them back to any kind of sense.
Elara's head throbbed.
Above her, the cold tendrils of her ghostly jellyfish brushed against her cheek. Its presence lessened the…intensity of the Dark magic, the strangeness that could overtake her like a fever, but the longer Elara kept it out, the hungrier it grew. It lessened the effects of Dark magic, but it wanted—needed—more. Failing to practice left Elara feeling…drained.
Harriet had named the jellyfish Steve. Elara hadn't had the drive to argue. She called it Steve.
Sitting up, Elara checked her pocketwatch, seeing it was nearly time for the Coven to meet.
"All right," she murmured to herself, and she cast a small series of simple Dark spells. They could barely be classified as Dark in Elara's estimation, but the fact remained, and Steve bloomed with various colors overhead, swelling on a silent inhale.
Elara shut the book.
"I'm going to be as blind as Harriet at this rate," she muttered to herself, pressing the fingers of one hand against her tired eyes. The other, she drew through the air, passing through Steve, and he dispersed. Elara shivered.
She allowed herself to rest for another moment, then she leaned up onto her feet, smoothing the slight wrinkles out from her skirt and her robes, consulting her watch yet again. Then, she tucked it away alongside her cracked Atlas, leaving the Dark books on the table, knowing they'd be safe from curious eyes. She passed through the open doorway and felt the Master Ring warm on her finger, hiding her private study away into the secret depths of the Aerie.
Harriet and Hermione had already arrived. So had Krum, and his gaze flicked over Elara with something less than friendly deepening the lines of his frown. He didn't like Dark magic. He'd left Durmstrang because he couldn't stomach it anymore, and having more experience with it, Elara guessed he could sense it hovering about her. Whatever the case, Krum made no comment and merely ignored her.
Others had arrived early as well, most notably the besotted twits Gabriel Flourish and Walt Murton, both of whom hung on Harriet's every word as if sunlight shined out of her mouth. Murton's face always turned pink when he looked in her direction, even when Harriet didn't notice him.
Hermione broke off from her conversation with Malfoy to hand Elara her lesson plan, and she flicked through it, seeing what Transfiguration spells people had written on the list after their last session. Nothing there would prove difficult for Elara, aside from a few of the selections that would be on the N.E. . She'd been noticing more and more of those lately, and she pondered how Umbridge's return had impacted the study routines of the seventh-years.
She almost felt sorry for Krum, who'd come back to school to repeat his final year, and they got saddled with the likes of Umbridge. Almost. He also seemed to dislike her, and Elara decided she disliked him in turn.
Harriet went to the chalkboard and started writing out what they'd be practicing today, scribbling out each subject. More people arrived. Elara settled into a seat by Hermione and watched her god-sister and the rest of the room, guessing that perhaps fifty of the one hundred or so people in the Coven would be attending today. Not everyone came to every session; it'd be ridiculous for nearly a third of the school's population to up and vanish for an hour or two several times a week. Sometimes, people filtered in, read the board, saw nothing they needed help with being reviewed that day, and left. Sometimes, they only arrived to practice before an exam the next day.
Some attended every meeting—Pendarves and the Weasley twins; Edna Patridge, who wanted to be an Auror; Luna and Lisa Turpin from Ravenclaw; and a number of younger students who'd found the tutoring invaluable to their marks. Even Elara and Hermione had to miss the occasional session due to their other activities—therapy and choir for Elara, debate club for Hermione—but a few members never failed to show.
She speculated attendance would increase as final exams approached. Or, it would decrease as Umbridge's looming presence sank upon them like a choking fog. A few covenors had been taken aside by the witch and interrogated about the group, but none had faltered. Harriet warned people not to drink anything handed to them.
"I hope Susan is okay," Hermione muttered, catching Elara's attention. She glanced at her, gloved fingers plucking the chair's padded arm. "Her family took her from Hogwarts when her aunt died. Megan Jones and Ernie Macmillan don't know when she'll be back."
"Perhaps she won't be," Elara said.
"I hope she is. I want to apologize."
"You've nothing to apologize for." Hermione opened her mouth to argue, and Elara cut across her, unrelenting. "You didn't kill Amelia Bones. According to Sirius, she knew intimately what danger she would face if she took the office. It was the Dark Lord, Hermione. Very few can stand against him."
One of said few turned to face the room, chalk smeared across her nose.
"All right, you lot. Let's not waste what time we have and get started…."
Lessons got underway, Elara devoting most of her time to practicing and sorting out seventh-year Transfiguration spells. A particular incantation needed to shift object density to a vast degree. It could be tricky, and most of the N.E.W.T students in attendance couldn't quite figure out how to attain the right balance. They meant to change bowling balls into balloons, but their balloons kept sinking like lead weights.
"You gotta twist your wrist more," Harriet said when she popped by, making her rounds. "The Transfiguration is getting spelled through a whole spectrum, yeah? Plastic to rubber and helium. So, it has to have more motion to make it through changing the plastic. Magic doesn't like plastic, so it tends to get sticky trying to change it."
Her advice worked, and several of the bowling balls turned into floating balloons. Harriet was already on her way to the next group, weaving through gathered students.
Elara stared after her, brow furrowed. How did she know that?
From the corner of her eye, she saw Salazar Slytherin sidle into one of the portraits on the wall. He beckoned to Harriet, and she scurried over to him.
"I thought Potter was learning Defense spells," Davies commented as he prodded his balloon. It warbled in the air, floating, but the rubber didn't have quite the right elasticity. "I didn't know that included Transfiguration."
"She's learning whatever Slytherin tells her to learn," Elara replied with a superior tilt of her nose, though she'd been wondering the same thing. "That includes wandwork that can be applied across a wide spectrum of magical disciplines." Across the room, she saw Harriet's back stiffen. The Founder's expression looked intense as he continued speaking, gesturing, the snake on his shoulders riled and showing its fangs. The hair on Elara's nape stood on end. "Pardon me."
Stashing away her wand, she hurried over to Harriet, instinct driving her forward, others hurrying to step from her path as she went. Elara reached Harriet, laying a hand on her shoulder—and Harriet jerked back. Her eyes were wide behind her spectacles, and her face had gone deathly pale.
"What is it?" Elara demanded, dread building.
Harriet swallowed. "They're in the Aerie," she breathed. "Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad are in the Aerie."
xXx
News spread among the covenors with all the swiftness and chaos of a wildfire.
There was an initial burst of fear—then outrage and confusion.
"How did they get in?!" one demanded.
"What do we do?!" shouted another.
"We'll be expelled if we're caught—."
"They can't find this room," Harriet shouted over the din—but Elara saw how her shaking fingers twisted the Master Ring on her hand. The Aerie responded to one's desires; it led students to the knowledge they sought. Harriet had forged the rings to bend to her, Hermione's, and Elara's whims to keep curious noses out of their business and away from dangerous places. However, the truth was that they hadn't tested the Master Ring against the pointed, searching will of a group of people determined to hunt them down. The Aerie might listen to Harriet, but it would also listen to Umbridge.
They could find this room. It would only take them time.
"Be quiet!" Hermione demanded. "Quiet! Now…I've set up a plan in case something like this ever happened, where we needed to evacuate swiftly. We'll take the Moon Mirror to the Underneath—or, the Chamber of Secrets, if you will."
Gasps radiated through the room, and Harriet groaned. "Oh, fuck," she said, emphatic. "Not there! If Slytherin finds out, he'll skin me and sell my organs in Knockturn Alley! Circe's cunt, Hermione!"
"As Harriet as so politely pointed out," Hermione continued without pause, though she did raise her voice. "You cannot linger in the Underneath. There's a second Moon Mirror across the Chamber aside from the one we'll enter through, and from there, I can direct you to use the password you need to find the Mirror closest to your dormitory."
"Ve need to hurry," Krum told her, his wand at the ready. He had his eyes narrowed, staring into the distance. "Now, Herme-ninny."
The covenors didn't need much prodding to start disappearing through the Moon Mirror housed in their study hall, following Hermione into the Underneath—but, one Mirror only provided so much space for people to pass through. They had four dozen-odd students to evacuate before Umbridge managed to find them.
How did they get in? Elara thought, willing time to slow, for people to hurry. Panic began to set in, and Harriet snapped and grabbed anyone who started shoving in the line. Did someone try to tell Umbridge? They'd be stupid if they did. They would have had to show her how to enter, because the moment they opened their mouth—.
Four dozen became three, then two, then one, and just as Elara began to believe they'd make it out of this without further issue—she heard feet running in the corridor. She and Harriet exchanged horrified glances.
"Shit!" Harriet swore in a savage gasp. "Shit! Elara, you and I are the only ones who know the password to the Underneath—take them and run." She gestured to the group of waiting students nearest her. "Get to a Mirror! Run!"
"Harriet—!"
"You must run!" Krum shouted, ushering his own set of students toward another opening. Harriet dashed after him. "Hurry!"
Elara had no choice but to usher her group in another direction, willing her lungs not to give out on her as they ran. Behind them, someone breached the study, and she heard—.
"There! After them!"
She didn't look back to see who they meant.
Elara's legs strained as they bolted along the outer corridor, hurling themselves through the next archway. The Aerie shifted, providing yet another hallway for them to run down, the walls lined by watching windows and thick, teetering shelves. Voices echoed in the confined space.
How did they get in? How did they get in? Who told? Who's the traitor?
Elara began to flag—and Pendarves yanked on her arm, refusing to let her fall behind. He, Pucey, and Elara made for the oldest students present, their numbers rounded out by Eleanor Branstone, a sobbing first-year from Hufflepuff, and Takagi from Slytherin's second year.
"Wait!" Pendarves ordered as they came upon another archway. They skid to a halt before entering. "We have to all think of the same destination, right? That's how the Aerie works? If we're all thinking of different areas, we'll keep going in circles. We all have to think of the same Mirror in the same place."
Panting, Elara massaged a stitch in her chest, terrified her asthma would act up. "To the library," she wheezed. "The one you enter through when you come from the Mirror outside the library. That one."
Pendarves nodded. "All right. Everyone, picture that Mirror. If you haven't been there before, just think of the library. Keep thinking about it. Got it?" He coached Branstone and Takagi, and though they looked frightened, both nodded. "Good. Keep that in your mind. Okay, let's go—."
He pulled Elara along with him as they stepped through the archway as a group. The corridor beyond shifted, following their desires. The Aerie had a ubiquitous style to it that could baffle the unawares into thinking nothing had changed in the vast, sprawling passageways, but Elara knew they'd come to the right place. She recognized the placement of tapestries and the one bust of a long-dead astrologer whose nose had been blasted off during her second year.
The Mirror waited ahead—and so did two people.
"Looks like the old toad was right to tell us to stay behind," Warrington said, sneering as he and Darren Dread pulled their wands from their pockets and leaned off the wall. "Unlucky prats. You lot are coming with us."
Branstone and Takagi shied behind Elara and Pendarves. Pucey's face paled, but he remained resolute.
"Don't be ridiculous," Pendarves said, his voice carrying the authority he usually implemented when acting as prefect. "Get out of our way, Warrington. We have places to be."
"I don't think so," Warrington retorted. "The only place you're going is out on your arse, Pendarves. You'll be expelled for this. You'll all be expelled. Umbridge will reward me for catching Potter's bitchy friend."
Dread snorted.
Elara had quite enough of this confrontation, and she ripped her wand free, leveling it at Warrington. His cocky smirk wavered, his feet shifting.
"Get out of the way," Elara ordered, bearing her teeth. "Or I'll give you a brand to match the one on Lestrange's face."
Warrington's eyes widened.
"Do you think I'm bluffing?" she asked, lowering her voice into a cold, malicious hiss. Pendarves' fingers gave her arm a nervous squeeze. "Do you think I'd allow a pathetic worm like you to get me expelled? Either move or start saying goodbye to body parts."
Warrington hesitated. Snarling, Elara flicked her wand—.
Both Warrington and Dread stumbled away from the Moon Mirror. They hurried farther down the corridor, refusing to turn their backs on Elara, both shaken by her fierce words. Elara had meant every last one of them. She wasn't Hermione, and she definitely wasn't Harriet. If Umbridge's lackeys wanted to hurt her, she'd make them bleed first.
She whispered the password to the silvered glass, then stood aside, letting the others pass before her as she stared at Warrington and Dread. Once Pendarves disappeared, she finally turned to follow.
"You're mad, Black," Warrington muttered.
Elara didn't disagree.
xXx
Unfortunately, more running had to be done to reach the second Mirror in the Underneath, and then through the school itself. Elara sprinted alongside other Slytherins to find the common room, and spots danced across her eyes. She thought she might pass out, but somehow, she managed to continue on, and her legs gave out from under her once she crossed through the entrance.
She leaned against the closest wall and slid down its length. Her limbs shook, and her blouse clung to her sweaty skin.
We made it, she thought, amazed. Relieved laughter echoed, someone shouting, "Fuck Umbridge!" as others cheered. Someone else took up the chant, and Elara heard Hermione chastise them for their swearing.
Her lungs heaved in her chest, and her heart raced. Elara felt on the verge of being sick, but it passed as she took in deep, cleansing breaths. Her pulse slowed.
When she collected herself, she lifted her head and surveyed the common room. She cataloged the faces there.
All at once, it felt as if her heart had dropped ouit of her chest.
…Where is Harriet?
A/N:
Hermione: "You had one job."
Elara: "I know."
Hermione: "One job."
Elara: "I know."
Hermione: "How did you lose Harriet?"
Elara: "…I forgot the child leash in the dorm."