CHAPTER 15
Morning arrived in a hush of soft torchlight and muffled footfalls. Elysia D'Aubigny barely slept, and it showed in the faint shadows beneath her eyes. As she rose, the heavy drapes around her four-poster bed seemed to radiate an ominous weight, as though they, too, were troubled by the secrets haunting the Slytherin dungeons.
She dressed quickly, choosing her robes with unusual care—perhaps hoping that a neat uniform and polished shoes might lend her a semblance of order. The reflection that met her gaze in the dormitory mirror looked tense, jaw set, eyes determined. Last night's vow still pulsed in her thoughts: Find Thaddeus. Corner him. Uncover his secrets—no matter what.
Down in the common room, she found Andromeda waiting near the crackling fireplace, arms folded. Andromeda's usually poised face also bore the mark of restless hours, a worn tightness at the corners of her eyes. An unspoken greeting passed between them—Today's the day. No more drifting in half-knowledge. They would have answers or fail trying.
They emerged from the Slytherin quarters into the dungeon corridor, where a trace of the lake's brine still clung to the clammy air. Late-autumn gloom seeped through, accompanied by the faint glow of torches sputtering against stone walls. A handful of older students drifted by, whispering among themselves; Elysia caught a snippet of some rumor about an upcoming Slytherin demonstration for Potions. She barely cared. Her mind was fixed on Thaddeus.
They reached the Great Hall just as breakfast was getting underway. The enchanted ceiling showed pale morning clouds stretched across a cold sky, and the low rumble of student chatter ebbed and flowed in casual waves. Elysia's eyes searched for Thaddeus like a hawk scanning a field. The Slytherin table bustled, but he was nowhere in sight.
Not again, she thought, lips pressing together. He'd been avoiding them for weeks, his uncanny knack for blending into Hogwarts's labyrinth outdoing even her best attempts to track him. At her side, Andromeda scanned the hall with equal intensity.
"There," Andromeda murmured, chin tipping slightly toward the far edge.
Elysia's gaze zeroed in on a figure slipping in through the doors. Cloak draped over one shoulder, dark hair falling across his brow, Thaddeus paused as if gauging the best path to an empty seat. A flicker of tension around his eyes betrayed sleeplessness—or stress. He's rattled, Elysia realized, heart racing with a triumph she refused to show. He hasn't found what he's looking for.
They wasted no time. Weaving between clumps of younger students, they moved quickly across the hall. Thaddeus sat at a corner of the Slytherin table, toying with a piece of toast he'd barely nibbled.
The moment Elysia drew near, she set a hand against his shoulder—light but unyielding. "Good morning, cousin."
He stiffened, but his expression remained guarded. "Elysia," he replied coolly. His gaze flicked to Andromeda. "Andromeda."
Andromeda slid onto the bench beside him, effectively boxing him in. "We missed you last night," she said, tone edged with concern. "Where were you?"
Thaddeus's jaw flexed. "Around. Studying," he muttered, as though the word might suffice.
Elysia forced a brittle laugh. "Studying? You must be reading the world's rarest volumes if you've been gone this often. Don't insult me, Thaddeus—I know you too well."
He placed the toast down with precise care, refusing to meet her eyes. "And what business is it of yours?"
"Business?" Elysia leaned closer, voice low enough to escape passing ears. "We share the same House, the same family. We have reason to believe you're chasing something dangerous."
His lips thinned. "What you believe is your own affair."
Andromeda's hand tapped the table, a nervous tick. "Thaddeus, we've watched you circle the castle, vanish at odd hours, skip meals. You're obviously after something. Are you going to pretend this doesn't matter?"
Thaddeus straightened, tension coiling in his posture. "It doesn't matter to you. Let it go."
Elysia inhaled sharply, fury pulsing behind her eyes. How dare he shut them out—again? Before she could retort, the low clang of a bench interrupted. Two Slytherin boys slid in just beside Thaddeus—Evan Rosier and Rabastan Lestrange, their attention promptly fixed on a conversation about Quidditch. Thaddeus seized the opening.
He stood, grabbing his bag, and swung a leg over the bench. "Excuse me."
Elysia lunged, hand closing on his sleeve. "No, you don't—"
But Rosier, in his usual flamboyant sprawl, chose that moment to shift, elbow jostling Elysia. The contact broke her grip, and Thaddeus stepped free, weaving quickly through the rows of seated students. By the time Elysia twisted away from the table, she glimpsed only a swirl of Thaddeus's dark cloak vanishing through the doors.
"Merlin." Elysia pounded a fist against her thigh in frustration.
Andromeda stood, brushing toast crumbs from her robes. "He's not getting far."
Together, they hurried into the corridor, but it was full of students heading off to morning lessons, the tide of black robes and pointed hats forming a shifting labyrinth. Thaddeus was nowhere in sight.
Elysia swore under her breath. "We'll try again," she muttered, ignoring the curious looks from a pair of Ravenclaw first-years. "He can't keep doing this forever."
They spent the morning trailing rumors of Thaddeus's whereabouts. A sixth-year claimed he'd been seen by the old library wing; a Gryffindor prefect thought she spotted him near the courtyard. Each time Elysia and Andromeda hustled to the rumored location, they found only empty corridors and lingering footsteps.
As the day wore on, they fell into a pattern—slipping out of classes at the earliest chance, glancing around corners, scanning the faces in the Great Hall between lessons. Hogwarts never felt so vast. Normally, Elysia adored the labyrinth of hidden staircases, twisting corridors, sly trick-steps. Today, she cursed every hidden alcove that Thaddeus might use to slip from her grasp.
By lunch, their frustration seethed. They grabbed only a quick bite of bread and fruit, not bothering to linger in the Great Hall. Chatter about upcoming Quidditch matches and the "Slughorn demonstration" buzzed around them, but Elysia remained fixated on the single objective: Corner Thaddeus—make him speak.
Andromeda leaned against a stone pillar in the Entrance Hall, catching her breath. "He's either extremely lucky or…" She trailed off, frustration coloring her words.
Elysia's eyes narrowed. "Or he's covering his tracks with magic. He's not an amateur, after all. If he's intent on avoiding us, he might be using illusions or wards."
Andromeda nodded grimly. "He's also spent half his life traveling with your uncle— curse-breaking teaches you how to slip around wards. This might be child's play to him."
"Great." Elysia pressed a palm to her forehead. A dull ache throbbed behind her temples. "Well, we need a different approach."
A moment passed in silence. Then Andromeda's gaze brightened. "We set a trap."
Despite everything, Elysia grinned. "Yes—Slytherin cunning. We feed him a rumor about some critical clue hidden in the old caretaker's storeroom or an abandoned classroom. He's desperate for answers, so if he thinks it might help his search, he'll come."
Andromeda's eyes gleamed. "And we'll be waiting."
That afternoon, they surreptitiously let slip a rumor that an old register of "Hogwarts ward anomalies" lay forgotten in a dusty supply closet near the second-floor corridor. They made sure to murmur it in earshot of Rosier and a few other known gossips. If Thaddeus was monitoring rumors—and he most certainly was—he'd hear.
Near dusk, Elysia and Andromeda stationed themselves behind a statue of a medieval wizard ironically called The Slumbering Saint. His carved cloak provided a perfect hiding place, giving them a clear view of the supply closet door. The corridor remained mostly empty this late, with most students finishing dinner or heading to the library.
They crouched, wands at the ready. Elysia's heart thudded. She could almost taste success. Any moment now, Thaddeus would appear…
Minutes crawled. The torch on the far wall sputtered, casting flickering shadows across the dusty floor. A wave of footsteps sounded in the distance—just a group of Hufflepuffs, laughing about some inside joke. They passed by without glancing at the closet. Silence fell again.
Then—soft, deliberate footfalls. Elysia's pulse jumped. Someone was approaching, steps measured, not the clumsy rush of a casual student. She risked a peek around the statue.
There he was, moving gracefully in the half-light, wand partly in hand. Thaddeus paused outside the storeroom door, a subtle tension in his stance, as though expecting a trick. Smart, Elysia thought, suppressing a triumphant thrill.
She exchanged a brief nod with Andromeda. Now. They burst from their hiding place, blocking his retreat. Thaddeus spun, wand raised, eyes wide with alarm.
"Enough," Elysia hissed. "You're not slipping away this time."
A flicker of defiance crossed his features, but Andromeda stepped behind him, sealing his escape. He lowered his wand an inch, gaze darting left and right. "Cousin, Andromeda—let me go. I have no time."
"Make time," Elysia snapped. "We know you're chasing a threat to Hogwarts—someone messing with wards. Tell us what you've found, or we'll drag you to a professor ourselves."
Thaddeus's face tightened. "I can't. You don't realize how dangerous—"
"We realize plenty," Andromeda said, voice cool but firm. "We're not children. And we're done being shut out. You're clearly terrified. Let us help."
For a heartbeat, Thaddeus looked torn—anguish warring with caution. Then his eyes hardened. "It's not safe for you. If I fail, better you remain uninvolved."
Elysia's anger flared. "Involved? We're already chasing you across half the castle. We are involved! Merlin, Thaddeus, you nearly had a panic attack after touching that kettle on the common room. You've been scouring the wards for weeks. Talk to us."
He raked a hand through his hair, jaw clenched. At last, words spilled out, low and tense: "All right. Fine. I suspect…someone is tampering with the wards. Subtly, to test Hogwarts's defenses. I've traced anomalies—like that kettle fiasco—that vanish before I can confirm them. But every clue I uncover leads nowhere. It's like chasing shadows."
Elysia's heart pounded. Confirmation. She and Andromeda exchanged a charged look.
Andromeda asked softly, "Who, Thaddeus? Who's behind it?"
"I don't know," he admitted, voice raw. "And that terrifies me. If the wards fall, Hogwarts is vulnerable in ways you can't imagine."
Elysia took a step closer, resting a hand on his wrist. "Then let us help. We're strong together."
He flinched as though burned. "No. You'll become targets—"
"Stop pretending you can shield us," Elysia said, voice trembling with emotion. "We're already at risk, whether we know the details or not."
A flicker of guilt crossed Thaddeus's eyes. He glanced at Andromeda, then Elysia, conflict blazing in his expression. He's close to breaking, Elysia thought. At last.
Then fate intervened again.
A loud bang echoed from down the corridor. Shouts erupted—"Fireworks!"—followed by a swirl of bright sparks that ricocheted around the hallway. A gaggle of boisterous third-years came careening around the corner, giggling in wild panic as a stray rocket whistled overhead.
"Move!" Elysia shouted, ducking.
In the confusion, a fountain of green sparks flared between them. She raised an arm to shield her eyes from the glare. The corridor filled with colored smoke, choking off her line of sight. Andromeda stumbled backward, coughing.
When the smoke dissipated, Thaddeus was gone.
"No!" Elysia rasped, eyes stinging. She whirled around, scanning every nook. No sign of him. The storeroom door stood locked, untouched. He must have slipped away in the chaos.
Andromeda pressed a hand to her chest, regaining her breath. "Every time!" Her voice trembled with fury. "He was so close to telling us everything."
Elysia clenched her teeth, heartbreak and anger roiling in her gut. She smashed a fist against the stone wall, ignoring the sting. "I can't believe we lost him again."
The third-years, oblivious to the tension they'd created, dashed off, shrieking with laughter. Their small fireworks left a faint haze in the corridor, the tang of spent sparks lingering in the air.
Andromeda's shoulders slumped. "What do we do now? This is impossible."
"We keep trying," Elysia managed, though her voice shook with pent-up frustration. "He's convinced he must handle everything alone, but we'll prove him wrong."
Night settled once more over Hogwarts. Elysia and Andromeda returned to the Slytherin common room, shoulders heavy with exhaustion. The day's chase replayed in Elysia's mind: so many near misses, so many brief confrontations, each disrupted by chance or design. She felt Thaddeus's desperation as sharply as her own.
I suspect someone's tampering with the wards… I have no proof… His words echoed like a broken incantation. Elysia recalled the fear that bled into his eyes, how his voice caught when he admitted he was close to uncovering some hidden threat—and how swiftly that moment was lost in the swirl of fireworks.
They took up seats by the common room's fireplace, letting the emerald glow from the Black Lake windows cast shifting patterns on the stone floor. A few Slytherin seventh-years studied at a nearby table, but otherwise, it was quiet. The hour was late, and a muted hush hung in the air.
Andromeda rubbed her temples. "He'll keep slipping unless we find a way to corner him without distractions."
Elysia nodded wearily. "We'll plan more carefully. Maybe we can ambush him in a warded room—somewhere no random crowd or Slytherin meddler can interfere."
A small, mirthless laugh escaped Andromeda. "Sounds extreme."
Elysia's eyes glinted with resolve. "So is the threat he's chasing. If he's right about sabotage, then Hogwarts may already be compromised. And we may be the only ones who can force him to share enough details to stop it."
Silence fell, broken only by the lazy crackle of flames. Elysia stared at the dancing firelight, images flashing in her mind: Thaddeus's haunted expression, the swirl of bright smoke blocking him from her reach. He can run, but he can't hide forever, she told herself. We'll outmaneuver him. We have to.
She pressed her palms against her knees, grounding herself. "Tomorrow, we regroup. We refine our plan. No more random corridor chases—just a decisive strike."
Andromeda's lips parted in a weary smile. "Agreed. I hate to admit it, but I might even enjoy out-scheming a curse-breaker."
"That's the spirit." Elysia let her head fall back against the couch. For a moment, the flames and the rippling greenish glow from the lake combined into a shifting mosaic of light. A tremor of concern coiled in her chest: If Thaddeus is right, something bigger is coming.
Her eyelids drooped, heavy with exhaustion. "One day soon, he'll slip for real," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "And we'll be there."
Andromeda leaned her head against the sofa. "Yes," she breathed. "We will."
They stayed like that, quiet in the dungeons' watery darkness, two determined silhouettes against the softly lit hearth, each weighed down by unanswered questions and the knowledge that tomorrow's chase would begin anew. Elysia's heart pounded with the promise she'd made: Thaddeus, we're not giving up. No matter what illusions or distractions you conjure, we will uncover the truth.
In the hush of the Slytherin common room, night stretched on, and the castle's secrets pressed closer, intangible and urgent. Elysia gazed into the low-burning embers, silent and unwavering in her resolve. If Thaddeus thought he could vanish forever, he was wrong. Sooner or later, they would corner him again—and this time, they would not be denied.