Chapter Six
I Get Caught with My Pants Down
"Miss Everlark, would you mind staying behind for a moment?"
I winced and stopped in my tracks at Professor McGonagall's voice. Though she had phrased it as a question, her no-nonsense tone made it clear I didn't have a choice, so I reluctantly turned, shooting a last grimace at Benjy, Emmeline, and the others as they mimed praying for me. JJ drew a line across his neck with a finger, grinning at me, and I would've kicked him if McG wasn't watching me with her sharp eyes.
My friends exited the classroom, leaving me alone with the Transfiguration professor as I approached her desk, fiddling with my bag strap and trying not to look too guilty. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but there was just something about that witch that made me feel like a kid caught stealing a biscuit.
"Yes, Professor?"
"I received your first report from Mr. Lupin yesterday," she began, and I braced myself for what was coming; the git had probably fabricated a million lies to make me look bad, and I knew she would believe him over me any day. Stupid Lupin and his stupid prefect badge and his stupid smarmy charm that made all the teachers adore him…
"I must say, Miss Everlark, I am quite shocked, but pleasantly so."
When I just blinked, she produced a piece of parchment paper from one of her desk drawers with a flourish and waved it at me.
"Despite a rough start, in which you were tardy and made several pointed remarks at certain students" —I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at this. All I did was point out how awful McKinnon's and Evans's ideas were. It wasn't like I'd called them cows… Come to think of it, that's not a bad idea. Maybe I'd do it next time they bothered me— "Mr. Lupin reported that he was, in his own words, impressed with Everlark's ability to come forth and present her ideas to the club, which were subsequently chosen by a majority vote and are now in the works of being implemented by Professor Flitwick."
She set the paper aside and looked at me over the tops of her square-rimmed spectacles, and if I wasn't mistaken, there was a bloody smirk on her face. Okay, a half-smirk. Or maybe she just really needed to sneeze. But either way, I'd take it.
"I hope this kind of participation continues, Miss Everlark," she said. "I think it would be very good for you in the long run."
I nodded, still dazed from her half-smirk. "I'll try, Professor."
"Good." She gave me a brisk nod, her half-smirk disappearing as her next class began to file in. "You may leave now."
I nodded again, bidding her goodbye as I started for the door. Unfortunately, I forgot that this was the class full of the seventh-year Gryffindors, and I had to stifle a groan when I saw Black standing guard near the door, his mates already seated in the back row glaring at me.
I looked over my shoulder to see if Professor McGonagall noticed, but she was apparently going over some kid's essay and critiquing it, leaving me to my own devices as Black crossed his arms and gave me an arrogant smirk.
"Good day, Black?" I said, trying to keep the annoyance from my tone and failing miserably.
"It's been all right, Pimply," he said, his smirk growing wider at my scowl. "About to get a lot better, I think."
"I wouldn't get your hopes up," I warned. "McG was telling my class about the birds you lot have to Transfigure into silverware and let me just say that those things love to shit. Maybe you'll get lucky and be shat on first—a shame for those lovely locks of yours, but I think you'd deserve it."
"Speaking of McG, why'd she make you stay back?" he said, brushing off my insult with an eye roll. "She assign you more detentions after your appalling behavior on Wednesday?"
"Actually, no," I said brightly, turning to Lupin and fixing him with a sickeningly sweet smile. "Your mate Lupin here left me a glowing review, and now I'm back in her good graces."
Lupin shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable when all his friends turned to him in surprise, and I shot the squirming boy a wink that made him scowl darkly.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," I said, sidestepping Black and squeezing out of the classroom just as the bell rang, leaving Lupin to fend for himself behind me.
I'm going to kill Piper Everlark.
Remus sat fuming, the bell ringing just as said future victim slipped out of the classroom, freeing Sirius to take his seat beside him, and his scowl deepened when he felt all his friends' eyes on him.
"Pimply's full of shit," Sirius scoffed, flipping his dark hair out of his eyes before fixing Remus with his sharp gaze. "Right, Moony?"
I can make it look like an accident. A terrible run-in with a Devil's Snare that could've happened to anyone.
Remus shifted in his seat, his fingers fiddling with the quill in front of him.
"Er…not exactly."
James looked at him incredulously. "What?"
Remus winced. "Look, it was one report! Why does it matter so much?"
"It matters, Moony!" James whispered harshly. McGonagall had started speaking from the front, but that didn't deter the bespectacled boy from wringing Remus's ear off. "We joined this stupid club of yours in a combined effort to get Everlark kicked out of it! You can't be backing out on us now."
"I'm not!" Remus snapped, speaking out of the corner of his mouth while pretending to take notes on whatever McGonagall was saying. "How slick do you think it'd look if I completely thrashed her in my first report? McGonagall would know we were trying to purposefully sabotage her! We have to be smart at this, Prongs. It's got to be a gradual thing."
James looked thoughtful, but Sirius snorted.
"C'mon, that's a load of rubbish," he said. "I think he's going second-year soft again."
Remus's neck flushed. "Sod off, Padfoot."
The other boy gave him a scornful look. "You do this at the beginning of every school year, Remus, and you need to cut it out. Pimply isn't who she used to be, and she never will be again. You need to get over that and move on. Stop hoping."
"When have I ever hoped?" he shot back. "She made her choice, and we all moved on. Nothing left to it."
Sirius shrugged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, mate."
Remus didn't have time to retort, for Professor McGonagall had sent them all tiny, twittering lime green birds to perch on their desks, stating that they needed to be able to turn each bird into silverware by the end of the lesson.
Remus remained silent, not wanting to further the argument with Sirius, but soon the entire thing was forgotten after Sirius's bird got a tad too excited and, indeed, shat on his head.
The other three Marauders had doubled over with laughter at the horrified expression on their mate's face, and Remus's good humor returned as the topic of Piper Everlark was dropped, though he couldn't help the uneasy feeling stirring in his gut that that wouldn't be the end of it.
Not by a long shot.
I didn't ask for a lot of things. Maybe a new pair of shoes every once in a while, and on my darker days, perhaps a new life, but some reevaluation might have to be in order when I looked down the corridor I was walking in and saw none other than my demon-spawned brother ducking into the boys' lavatory, looking very dodgy indeed.
A moment's peace, I decided. That's what I would ask for now because, apparently, everyone was hellbent on making my life stressful and miserable.
Heaving a great sigh, I started toward the loo, squaring my shoulders and putting on my best "authoritative-older-sister" face. I knew for a fact Archie was supposed to be in Herbology this block, yet here the little bugger was, skiving off. A part of me told me to just leave him be, that he'd be caught and handed detention soon enough (which would serve him right), but something in my gut insisted I should follow, so I did.
I barged through the door, wrinkling my nose at the smell before my eyes landed on Archie. He stood by the farthest sink, and he jumped at the sound of the door, his blue eyes widening when he saw me in the mirror. He swore quietly and fumbled with his pockets, and that was when I noticed the small glass vial in his hand that he was hastily trying to stow away.
"What the hell, Piper?" he said incredulously. "This is the boys' loo!"
"Oh, so you do know where you are? Because this really doesn't look like the greenhouses, does it, Archie?"
"I wasn't feeling well," he mumbled, grabbing his bag off the floor and swinging it on his shoulder, avoiding eye contact, and my suspicion rose.
"That's what the hospital wing is for," I said.
"Right, er, so I should go," he said, nudging past me to the door, but I blocked his way.
"What's in your pocket?" I asked.
He scowled. "Nothing. Now move."
He tried to sidestep me, but I stepped in front of him again, crossing my arms.
"Do not make me grope you to find the damn thing," I warned. "I saw the vial, Arch, I'm not stupid."
"Could've fooled me," he muttered, physically pushing me out of the way, and I stumbled back into one of the sinks, my anger flaring.
I whipped out my wand, pointed it at his pocket, and said, "Accio vial!"
The little bottle soared into my hand, and I caught it, only fumbling slightly as Archie whirled, his mouth agape as if he was shocked that I could do magic, the little git. Who was the one to get their Hogwarts letter first? Certainly not him.
I held up the vial and peered at its contents, giving them a slight swish. A lilac-colored potion swirled within, and I recognized it immediately. Professor Slughorn had instructed us to make a Calming Draught not even a week ago, and this looked exactly like the potion.
As I stated above, I was not stupid. Ditzy? Yeah, all right, maybe. Stuck in my own world without a clue of what's going on around me? For sure. But stupid? No way.
It was common knowledge within Hogwarts that there was some kind of illegal potion-making going on, and had been for several years. No matter how many precautions were taken or how many wards were set up around the Potions storage room, ingredients always went missing, and then the next few weeks' detentions were abundant for anyone caught having a potion on them, and the hospital wing was crammed full of students experiencing side effects or bad reactions to having taken one of the potions. Calming Draughts and Sleeping Draughts were the most plentiful of the black-market potions, especially among the older students taking O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, but sometimes other concoctions would slip in with the rest, leading to nasty consequences. Once there was even a rumor that there was a bottle of Felix Felicis going around, but I didn't know if it was true or not.
Anyway, besides the whole illegal part, the potion-dealing at Hogwarts posed another problem: addiction. Calming Draughts especially were known for getting people hooked; something about a constant state of peace really seemed to get people, and while the brew may have been good to use every now and then, drinking too much of it led to a dependence on it, and withdrawals, and… Well, you get the point. And now here I was, standing in the boys' lavatory with my brother and holding a vial of said addicting potion in my hand. You can imagine I didn't take this lightly.
"You've got to be kidding me," I said in disbelief.
"It's not what you think," he protested, and I raised a brow. "I just…had some leftover from Slughorn's class when we brewed it. No big deal."
"That's a load of shit, Archie, and you know it," I snapped. I couldn't believe this git was lying to me. "You don't learn Calming Draughts until N.E.W.T. year. Who gave this to you?"
"It's none of your business," he said, glaring petulantly at one of the mirrors like a child.
"Do you realize how dangerous this is?" I said, shaking the vial in his face. With every word, my voice seemed to go up an octave. "Archie, you could be expelled for this! Or worse, you can end up like one of those poor saps in St Mungo's who sit there drooling and hallucinating!"
"Bloody hell, Piper, you sound like Mum," he said, still glaring at the mirror and refusing to look at me.
"Who gave it to you?" I repeated forcefully, and his jaw stuck out further like it did whenever he was annoyed. He stayed silent, and I nearly screamed. Why were adolescent boys such a nightmare to deal with?
Obviously, my anger and frustration were getting me nowhere, so I decided to try a different tactic.
"Archie," I said, making my voice soft and reassuring, and though his eyes narrowed, he still didn't say anything. "Look, I'm not going to get you in trouble, all right? I won't even rat on whoever gave the potion to you. I just want you to be safe, yeah? You're my brother."
"God, Piper, you're so transparent," he snapped, throwing up his arms and scowling at me. "Stop acting like you care, you know you don't! You just want to know because you're a nosy prat and can't keep out of everyone's shit without having a say!"
I stilled, staring hard at my brother. What was going on lately? Everyone seemed to be dragging me through the mud, and honestly, it was getting pretty tiring. First Black, then Lupin, Dorcas, Evans, and now my own brother? Did I really deserve all this? I was just trying to help!
"You know what? Fine, whatever," he said. "You want to know who I got it from? Regulus Black, and he got it from some Slytherin bloke in sixth. Happy now?"
"What are you doing getting potions from Regulus Black?" was my snarky reply, but he only shook his head, turning for the door.
"Just stay out of my personal life from now on," he shot over his shoulder. "And if you have a problem with me associating with Black, then you just have to deal with it."
I gaped after him, gobsmacked, but before he could leave, the door burst open and Filch shuffled in, wheezing and out of breath. His eyes bulged when he looked first at Archie, then at me, still standing there with the potion in my hand.
"WHIMBLESBY!" he bellowed, starting forward, and I turned to Archie, who stared at me wide-eyed.
"Run, you idiot!" I yelled, and he did, ducking Filch's hand before sprinting out of the lavatory, the caretaker shouting threats after him before turning on me, his nostrils flaring like a bull ready to charge.
"What's in your hand, Whimblesby?" he growled, swiping at the vial, but I pulled it out of his reach and ran into one of the stalls, locking the door behind me as Filch pounded his fist on it.
"Whimblesby, open this door!" he shouted, rattling the lock while I uncapped the vial, almost dropping it in the process. "Do you know how many detentions I'm giving you for this?"
"I'm guessing a lot?"
I dumped the potion into the toilet just as the lock shook out of place behind me, and my heart leaped into my throat as Filch began pushing open the door. If he saw the potion in the toilet, I was done for. All that effort to get a half-smirk from Minerva McGonagall would have been for naught, and I couldn't have that. I had to make her proud!
So, I did the only thing I could think of. Dignity be damned; it was time for a sacrifice.
I whipped down my skirt and yanked up my robes, hastily sitting on the toilet seat and nearly falling in just as Filch slammed open the door, both of us screaming as we made eye contact.
"Mr. Filch!" I cried, pretending to cover myself up, but you couldn't really have seen anything anyway with the voluminous robes we had to wear as part of our uniform. "Please, I'm sorry, I just had to use the loo!"
Filch's face went beet-red, and I honestly thought the man was about to keel over and have a stroke. I could see a vein throbbing in his forehead, and he nearly tripped over himself as he backed out of the stall.
"You – outside – after – finish – detention!" he spluttered. He whirled around, all but fleeing the lavatory, and I breathed out a deep sigh, looking up from my lap only when I heard the door close.
I was so screwed.
All my hard work, for nothing. Not even an hour after earning my half-smirk from McGonagall was I already back in her office, rubbing my arm from where Filch had locked it in a vice grip, and I was sure it would be bruised tomorrow as he went to fetch my Head of House.
McGonagall didn't even say anything to me as she wrote out a detention form, but I could sense the disappointment rolling off her in waves. The only sound in the office was her quill scratching on the parchment, and I wrung my hands in my lap, embarrassed and a little guilty. I had no regrets doing what I had done to Filch – I mean, he deserved it, just a bit – but knowing that McGonagall was now privy to it was mortifying. I'd be surprised if she ever looked at me again without having any images of me getting caught with my pants down in the boys' loo.
Wordlessly, she finished writing and handed me the detention slip, and I took it with a silent nod, too afraid to break the silence. I stood up and made my way to the door, but when I got there, I stopped and turned, seeing McGonagall already starting work on grading essays.
I swallowed nervously, stammering out, "Er, Professor, I—"
"That will do, Miss Everlark," she said coldly, and I winced.
I hurried out of her office, stuffing the detention slip in my bag without even reading it. I could feel my face burning, and the tip of my nose started to itch, a good indicator that I was about to start crying, but I fought the urge down. I was not about to ruin my makeup.
I headed for the Great Hall, considering dinner was about to start and there would be no use returning to the common room. I entered with my head down, starting for my usual seat with the others. I didn't see Archie, but that was for the best; I probably would've dragged him out of his seat and started pummeling him in front of the entire Hall, and though the idea was appealing, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore wouldn't approve.
"Why so glum, Pipes?" JJ asked as I sat down, and Dorcas rolled her amber eyes playfully.
"Don't worry, JJ, it's her new look," she said. "Doom and Gloom are in this season, apparently."
I knew she meant it as a joke, but I couldn't help scowling as I grabbed up a roll, taking a vicious bite out of it as Dom growled across from me.
"The lioness is displeased," he said in a shoddy imitation of an Australian accent. "She takes out her anger on the poor dinner roll before her, sinking her fangs into it whilst picking up the gravy dish – OI!"
Dom grumbled as he set about trying to wipe gravy off his sleeve with a napkin, and I set the dish back down, finishing off my roll before plucking another one out of the basket, ignoring the incredulous looks I received from my friends.
"Merlin, Pipes, what's got your knickers in a twist today?" Benjy said, and I shot him a withering look.
"Would you like the gravy treatment, as well, Fenwick?" I said, raising the dish threateningly, and he grinned nervously while nestling closer into Becca's side.
"No, really, Piper, what's wrong?" Becca asked, not bothering to push Benjy off, and normally I would've been giving her suggestive looks, but all I felt was frustration and annoyance, all aimed at myself.
"Got another detention," I mumbled, and Emmeline shook her head sadly.
"I thought McG was all right with you now?" she said.
"Guess not." I took another moody bite, and slowly, conversation started back up again amongst my friends, everyone obviously getting the sense that I wanted to be left alone.
I was on my fifth roll when the Marauders walked in. They roared with laughter at something Potter must've said, strolling by us without a glance and taking their normal seats farther down the table. I heard Black's laughter louder than the rest, and as if someone had commanded it, I stood up and shoved away from the bench, stalking down to where the four boys were sitting.
"Piper?" Emmeline called from behind me, but I ignored her.
"What's she doing?" Alfie asked at the same time that Dorcas swore. "Piper, get back here!"
Gritting my teeth, I marched along the table until I was level with them, plunking myself down next to Pettigrew, and their boisterous conversation ceased immediately, four pairs of eyes swiveling to me in shock.
"Couldn't keep away from me that long, eh, Everlark?" Black said, recovering his wits quickly and shooting me a wink.
"Nice hair, Black," I said instead, gesturing to his wild curls, which were messier than usual. "Get shat on after all?"
He scowled, touching a self-conscious hand to his scalp, and I rolled my eyes as Potter cleared his throat, having found his voice again.
"Can we help you, Pimply?" he asked scathingly, his hazel eyes burning into my face, and I shrugged.
"You can't," I said before looking pointedly at Black, "but he can."
Black looked amused. "What do you need, Pimply? I'm sorry to say that I'm already shacking up with McKinnon—"
"As if I would ever be caught dead shagging you," I sneered. "It's about your brother."
The effect was instantaneous. Black's face instantly became guarded, his muscles tensing, while the other boys seemed to hold their breath, looking from me to him warily. Potter took his glasses off and began cleaning them nervously, while Pettigrew began to wolf his food down at an alarming rate as if afraid Black would end up flipping the table. Lupin was the calmest out of the four, but I could still feel his eyes boring into me intently.
"What about him?" Black said, his voice casual, but I knew his flippant attitude was a front. Everyone was aware that the Black brothers had some serious issues, most likely stemming from the fact that Sirius was the first Black to ever be Sorted into Gryffindor while Regulus had joined the rest of his family in Slytherin, but that was just the tip of the iceberg.
"I caught Archie skiving class today," I began, not needing to explain how he was my brother, for they were already well aware; git-by-association and all. "He had a vial of Calming Draught with him, and when I asked him where he got it, he told me Regulus had given it to him after getting it from some sixth-year Slytherin bloke."
Black cursed under his breath, sharing a significant look with the other three that I couldn't decipher.
"Thanks, Everlark," he said grudgingly, nodding to me, and I realized with a start that he hadn't called me Pimply. "I'll tell him to keep away from your brother; it's about time he and I had a little chat, anyway."
I nodded back. If there was one thing I prided in Gryffindors, it was their sense of loyalty; Black and I may have been enemies, but Slytherins were the greater foe. This was one thing we could agree on.
"I've got to get going," Lupin told the others, finishing up his dinner. "That detention starts at eight; Filch'll be waiting for me in the dungeons."
Speaking of detention… I grabbed the slip McGonagall had given me out of my bag and read it over, inwardly groaning when I saw the message: Detention with Argus Filch, eight o'clock Thursday night, the twenty-eighth of September, cleaning cauldrons in the dungeons – no magic.
"Looks like you'll have some company," I said, waving my slip at him.
"Great," he muttered as I stood up from the bench, though he had the decency to wait for me instead of leaving me in the dust.
He said goodbye to his friends and began walking, and after a moment's hesitation, I gave them an awkward wave before hurrying after the sandy-haired boy, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over me before I shook it off.
I noticed my friends staring after me with wide eyes when I walked past with Lupin, and I shrugged half-heartedly as we made our way out of the Hall. We garnered the attention of multiple people from all the tables, and while Lupin gritted his teeth and kept marching, I glanced around at them all, seeing their baffled expressions and even overhearing some third-year Hufflepuffs speculating if we were going to have a duel in the courtyard.
I had to grin at this, nearly jogging to keep up with Lupin, and as soon as we were out of sight of the Hall, I let out a snort. He turned to look at me, his expression clearly stating that he was not as amused as I was.
"So, should we go ahead and fight to the death or save that for another time?" I asked, and he rolled his eyes, wincing as he adjusted his bag on his shoulder. I pretended not to have noticed as we began to descend the steps to the dungeons, coming to a stop outside of the door before he pushed it open, leading us inside the Potions classroom, which was currently empty save for Filch and Mrs. Norris.
Filch's face turned purple when he saw me, and he avoided eye contact as I grimaced, the scene from the bathroom replaying in both of our minds in the same moment.
"You know the rules," he muttered. "No magic, no talking, no fighting, and no leaving until I dismiss you. Get to work."
He hobbled out of the classroom quickly, Mrs. Norris padding beside him, and pulled the door shut behind him with a resounding boom before his footsteps faded away on the stairs.
I turned away from the door to see Lupin giving me an odd look. "What?"
"Filch looked about ready to piss himself when he saw you," he said. "What'd you do to him?"
"Oh, that," I said, twirling a loose curl around my finger and wincing. "Er, no idea. Maybe he had the runs or something."
He looked skeptical but didn't reply. Instead, he grabbed up a brush and scooted a cauldron closer to him as he sat down, wrinkling his nose at the built-up filth inside of it. I followed suit, taking a cauldron and plopping down next to him, only to sigh when I felt his eyes on me.
"I'm not moving," I said, beginning to scrub the cauldron and nearly gagging when I saw the crusty residue inside that very much resembled vomit. "These cauldrons are heavy, and I'm not lugging them to another table."
"Suit yourself," he grumbled, and we fell silent as we continued working.
An hour passed without conversation until my hand started cramping and I had to set down my brush, flexing my fingers and rubbing the soreness out of my palm. I decided to take a break after seeing the stack of cleaned cauldrons in front of me, but unfortunately, my mouth started moving once my hands were stilled.
"So, what are you in for?" I asked, gesturing to Lupin and frowning when I noticed how much bigger his clean pile was than mine.
He didn't look at me, continuing to scrub at his cauldron while I waited, but when it was clear he wasn't going to answer, I huffed out a breath.
"C'mon, Lupin, indulge me. We still have an hour left in here."
"Joy," he muttered.
"Seriously, what'd you do? It couldn't have been a prank; you lot haven't done one since sixth year. Hm. Roaming the castle after dark? Telling Professor Kettleburn to stick his peg leg where the sun doesn't shine?"
"I forgot to turn in an assignment to Professor Slughorn," he said finally, sounding annoyed, but that didn't deter me.
"Ugh. That is such a prefect thing to get detention for."
"And you?" he asked testily. "Let me guess. Making a first-year cry? Kicking some bloke in the bollocks? Or, wait – hexing an ex-boyfriend?"
"Try saving my brother's ass from having to do menial labor," I said, waving a hand to the cauldrons around us. "The more I think about it, though, the more I should've let him take the fall. I guess I'm too nice like that."
Lupin snorted and finally looked up at me. "Nice is not a word I would use to describe you."
I made a face at him. "Whatever. But like I said, I shouldn't have stuck out my neck for him – or, rather, flashed Filch for him."
Lupin barked out a laugh, and we both looked surprised at the sound before he grimaced, ducking his head and getting back to work.
"It's not like I'll even get a thank-you," I continued, tapping my fingernails on the table as I talked aloud. "He seems to hate me for whatever reason. Probably because of Dad, but still."
I shut my mouth after that, hoping that Lupin had tuned me out. I had a habit of oversharing, but he was one person I shouldn't spout about my personal life around. Who knew what he could do with that sort of information?
Fortunately, he gave no indication of having heard me, but since I was still bored and didn't feel like scrubbing anymore, I kept talking.
"How do you even forget to turn in an assignment?" I asked him. "I mean, I get it, I do it all the time, but you're supposed to be a good student and all that. What's your excuse?"
"I was ill," he said shortly, scrubbing vigorously at an orange stain that didn't seem keen on coming out, and I nodded, suddenly thoughtful.
"Yeah, I guess those full moons really take it out of you," I said, jumping in my stool when there was a sudden loud crash.
Lupin stared at me, his pupils dilated and his face drained of blood. He mouthed wordlessly at me, the cauldron that he had been cleaning now on the floor, luckily unbroken.
"How – you – I—" he said, hoarse. I just gave him a strange look, bending down to pick up the cauldron. "How did you—?"
"Know?" I supplied, and he nodded, seemingly in a daze. "First year, remember? Well, you were in second, but I was still in first—"
"You remembered?" he whispered, his pale green eyes huge in his face. "After all this time?"
"What? Did you think I'd just conveniently forget my friend telling me that he's a werewolf?"
He looked at the door wildly as if afraid he would find someone with their ear pressed against it listening to us, but after a few moments, he cleared his throat.
"Er, sorry," he said, still sounding shaken. "Um…"
He trailed off, uncertain, and I shifted in my seat, suddenly aware of the tension in the room. That same wave of nostalgia rolled over me again, and my mouth felt too dry, years' worth of memories and too many questions sitting on my tongue.
"Y'know, screw Filch," I said abruptly, getting up from my seat and grabbing my things. "You can tell him I left early, I don't care."
And without a backward glance, I hurried out of the room before I could remember that once upon a time, the boy sitting next to me who loathed me and whom I loathed back, had been one of my best friends.
