Blink and you miss it

Astonished, Caitlyn didn't register the screams of either joy or panic rampaging through the children. She looked at McGonagall.

"Professor Singed is missing?"

The Deputy Headmistress sighed and, in a low voice, answered:

"It seems so. Albus has been searching for him all day, but it seems he left in a hurry this morning. All his belongings are gone too. I do not like this one bit, I'll admit."

If this was a coincidence, Cait would gladly be turned into a bowl of pudding.

"I will admit," she said as candidly as she could, "I cannot help but find this man a bit strange. Outlandish, should I say."

McGonagall stared at her, with her face still deciding between a gentle smile or a faint scowl.

"Professor Singed might be a bit… uncommon indeed, but he's a real master of potioncraft. Maybe even more than Professor Slughorn. And he has impeccable manners, may I say, although I do miss, let's say, the humor that Horace usually brings into our Common Room."

With a quick breath, Caitlyn added:

"But how did Professor Dumbledore find this master? I had never heard his name before, and my mother usually takes pride in knowing all the greatest figures of the country, maybe even the continent."

McGonagall's lips parched, and for a few seconds, she hesitated, until she sighed.

"It is not really my story to tell, but knowing you, Mrs. Kiramman, I suppose you would only keep asking and searching until you get an answer."

Caitlyn offered an apologetic smile in return.

"It is not a really secret either, although those records are hard to find, even for those who would know where to look. There were, decades ago, rumors that Singed had been working for Grindelwald. But thanks to Albus' testimony, no charges stuck, and he was not convicted of anything. I do not have any more details than this, and Albus has been… reluctant to share them with me. He and Grindelwald were great friends in their youth before… before ambition turned Grindelwald to the worst of paths. I suspect the memories are still hard for him to bear."

But Caitlyn had barely listened to the end. Her mind raced and worked, forging the truth out of the bits and pieces of information she put into the furnace of her wits.

Singed. Grindelwald. Silco. The attacks, the timings. The cure to death, the Horcruxes. Powder's experiments.

"Ah, but maybe I should not be talking about this," regretted McGonagall, looking at her half-emptied glass of wine. "Please forgive me, Mrs. Kiramman. All these recent events may be weighing on me more than I care to admit."

"You're all forgiven, Professor. Please excuse me, I have some urgent matters to take care of now."

She pushed away her untouched plate and rushed to her bedroom.

She had a letter to write.

Dear Vander.

I hope this letter finds you well and…

Dear Vander.

I am sorr…

Dear Vander,

I am very worried about Vi; I still haven't heard from her. Maybe you have? I would be very grateful if you knew anything to ease my concerns.

But this is not why I am writing. I just heard that our Potions Professor, a certain man named Singed, had worked in the past with, or maybe for, Grindelwald, and I wondered if….

A single bang on the door scared Caitlyn to the bone and dragged her quill across the parchment, making the most impressive crossing-out of her career.

With a frown, she waved her wand, and the door opened, creaking slightly. She had reached the point where she had stopped hoping Vi would be behind it.

To her surprise, in place of a set of pink hair, she only found a long white beard.

"Professor Dumbledore! I was not expecting you!" she said, a little confused.

He offered an apologetic smile.

"I hope I am not interrupting you," he said.

Caitlyn looked at her third failed attempt to write a letter to Vi's father and smiled back.

"Not at all, Sir. What can I do for you?"

Then, with a small frown:

"Is this about Professor Singed?"

With a single look, the Headmaster asked for permission to enter, which she accepted with an extension of her hand, summoning a chair by her desk.

The old man closed the door behind him without even a single movement nor a gaze and sat on the offered chair.

"Yes indeed, Professor. As you might suspect, I am quite worried about the situation."

"Still no idea where he might have gone?"

"Not in the slightest, I'm afraid. Singed was always a man with many secrets and very private about his life."

"And I expect you're here to ask me to keep quiet about our conversation last night?"

Dumbledore's smile grew wider.

"Nothing can be kept from you, can it, Miss Kiramman? Yes, indeed, I would like you not to mention this, if you could help it. I'm afraid this might give away the wrong idea."

"You mean that a former Grindelwald associate has disappeared from the school after stealing a book on dark magic and the secret to eternal life? That kind of idea?"

Dumbledore's brow turned into a deep frown.

"That kind of idea exactly."

"Because it wouldn't look good on you?"

"Because I would like to give the benefit of the doubt to an old friend of mine."

His voice had dropped low, and his back had straightened on the chair. Caitlyn leaned forward, as if she wanted to keep the pressure on.

"Apologies, sir, but if there's a lesson to be learned from history, it's that your choice of friends might not always be the most reliable thing."

"Maybe they are not, indeed," he answered with a whisper, "but I am still about to make this request nonetheless."

She held back a sigh. Her Headmaster seemed, for once, less in control—more fragile, and alone.

"Nothing to worry about, sir. It was never in my plan to scream it from the rooftops. But I won't deny how concerned I am with this turn of events, Headmaster."

Dumbledore's blue eyes locked onto her, and she did her utmost best to fight the overwhelming feeling of being scrutinized, studied, peeled layer by layer.

"Why would you, dear?" he asked.

Suddenly very aware that she couldn't really explain everything to him without spilling secrets she had promised to keep, her mind quickly made up the simplest explanation.

"A Hogwarts professor missing with a dangerous book, in these troubled times, after the attacks at Hogsmeade, students missing… I cannot help but feel as if something is brewing, sir. Maybe call this some Auror instinct, or paranoia, but…"

"I understand, Mrs. Kiramman. And I'm very sorry to say that my own instincts scream something familiar. But worry not. I will find Professor Singed, and this whole situation will be clarified very soon."

He stood up from the chair.

"Thank you very much for taking the time to talk. I won't bother you any longer; it seems you have work waiting for you."

"It was no problem at all, Headmaster. Always happy to have a chat, even in unpleasant circumstances."

It was past three in the morning when the door shook again. Caitlyn was swimming deep in the waters of her senseless dream—not quite a nightmare, but far from a relaxing one either—and it took her several seconds and another set of knocks to emerge and open her eyes.

Barely awake, she reached out for her wand and turned on the flames of the candles with a flick of her wrist before summoning her robes to her hand.

The fear that Dumbledore was back again with much, much worse news than earlier sneaked its way into her heart and very quickly melted the dizziness away, so her wits were already fully back on when, this time, she went to open the door with her own hands.

Now gently lit by the candles from inside the bedroom, a flicker of pink glistened in the dark. Red dripped down to the floor, drop after drop.

"Hey, Cupcake. Sorry… Do you have a minute?"

With her hand to her mouth, Caitlyn stared at Vi, unable to speak or comprehend the scene in front of her eyes.

"Merlin… Vi! What happened to you?"

The groundskeeper's left eye was black and swollen, blood stained her pink hair and dripped down her face and cheek before falling to the wooden floor. When she opened her mouth to answer, her white teeth were tainted red—a gross and terrifying display that churned Caitlyn's dinner in her stomach.

"I kinda screwed up, Cait, and I think I need help. Didn't know where else to go."—"

She was smiling wide, her damaged lips smearing more blood on her teeth and gums, but Caitlyn also noticed how they quivered, how the corners of Vi's eyes glistened, how close she was to breaking down and cry.

Caitlyn's body moved on its own, her hand reaching out to Vi's face to gently cup her cheeks. The woman winced in pain but did not back away.

"Easy, Cupcake, that hurts."

"We need to get you to the infirmary," was the first thing Caitlyn managed to say.

Vi shook her head, slipping out of Cait's fingers and leaving traces of wet blood on them.

"No, I… I can't. I don't want them to see me like this."

"But Mrs. Pomfrey—"

"… Is probably still asleep," Vi cut in. "Probably the best and smartest choice still, but when do I ever choose good and smart, eh?"

Her eyes met Caitlyn's.

"D'you mind if I come in? I… Legs ain't working well no more."

"No. No, no, no. We're not doing this. And I don't want blood on my floor. Come on!"

Caitlyn grabbed Vi's wrist and, instead of pulling her into her room, got out and dragged her rather forcefully down the hallway.

"I don't want to go to the infirmary!" Vi repeated.

"I've heard you. Now shush, you'll wake up the whole castle."

In front of the little statue, Caitlyn whispered the password and pushed Vi inside when the wall turned into an open door.

"See you on the other side," she said. It was impossible to get two people in the same changing room.

As soon as the door closed and the wall turned back to its old self, she murmured the password again to get to her own room.

As she was taking her robes off—faster than she ever had before—her mind was focused on the one thing that mattered.

Vi was back.

Bloody, beaten. Insufferable already, but back. Everything else was secondary. Violet Lane had come back, and she had come straight to her. She put on the illusory robes, grabbed her wand, and stepped into the Professors' bathrooms.

On the other hand, despite the perfect temperature, Vi looked like she was shivering. She was pale, contrasting even more with the red of the blood on her skin and the darkening bruise on her eye. The display was heartbreakingly comical—seeing her so hurt in the cute and perfectly ironed magical robe covering her modesty.

"Didn't expect you to be such a hard-ass, Cupcake," she said, welcoming the professor. "I'm wounded."

"You asked for my help. This is how you get it."

She had to be a hard-ass. Anything less, and she would crumble before Vi, grab her in her arms, and never, ever let her go again.

"Come," she said, grabbing Vi's wrist again, although much more gently this time, and led her to Gryffindor's hot spring.

The water welcomed them with the warm embrace of heaven and quickly started turning a thin shade of red around Vi as it washed part of the blood away.

Caitlyn transfigured her own towel into a more practical, softer cloth and laid down her wand on the rocks next to her. As she sank into the bath, she pulled Vi closer to her.

"Let me see," she ordered, moving Vi's head to inspect the deep cut on her skull that would not stop bleeding, doing her utmost best to ignore that she was here, skin against her skin, their naked thighs touching under the water as blood drops tainted them more and more.

Gently, she pressed the cloth against the cut, cleaning it, discovering how long it ran under Vi's pink hair.

She didn't say a thing, ignored the wince of pain from her patient. When she was finally satisfied with the state of the wound and the bleeding had finally stopped, she lifted Vi's chin up and inspected her eye.

"I'm not a Mediwitch," she warned, "but let me see what I can do."

She reached for her wand and started working on it, still in silence. When she was finally finished, Vi's right eye was still framed in dark purple, but at least now Caitlyn could see a glimpse of the blue iris she loved so much in the middle. Her arms brushed Vi's chest, and the fleeting feeling stabbed Caitlyn at the center of her brain.

"How do you feel?"

"Much better, Cupcake. Thanks."

Vi smiled, and Caitlyn winced at the sight of her bloodstained teeth.

"Sorry," Vi apologized, hiding her mouth behind her hand. "I'll take care of that."

"Don't worry. Anywhere else that needs patching up?"

Vi groaned and turned around, lowering her magical robe slightly and revealing her back, where a nasty cut barred her left shoulder.

Caitlyn held back a cry.

"Vi! You have a piece of glass in your shoulder! What in Merlin's name?!"

"I know! It's been hurting me like crazy!"

"Why didn't you say anything? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Vi scoffed, and her half-laugh was cut short by a groan of pain.

"I could answer that, but I wouldn't know when to staaaaaaaaart! Ouch!"

Caitlyn had swiftly pulled the large piece of glass out of her flesh.

"Sorry…"

Gently, she caressed the wound with her cloth, slow and deliberate, as if afraid Vi might break apart beneath her touch. She swept away both dried and fresh blood, uncovering more and more of the intricate artwork inked into Vi's back—black cogs meshed together in elaborate designs, curling wisps of smoke rising from unseen engines, and details so precise Caitlyn could barely follow them with her eyes, let alone understand their full meaning. It adorned her muscles the way Cait used golden jewels to adorn her neck or ears, and she felt submerged by the countless stories each drop of ink seemed to tell.

Caitlyn traced the patterns unconsciously, the cloth in her hand forgotten as her fingertips brushed over warm, damp flesh. The contrast struck her—the hardness of Vi's muscles beneath the softness of her skin, the elegance of the ink marred by the fresh, angry wound. Vi shivered, and Caitlyn didn't know if it was from the heat of the water or her touch.

She was so close now, their bodies pressed together in the steamy embrace of the bath. Under any other circumstances, Caitlyn would have been paralyzed by embarrassment, overwhelmed by the sheer intimacy of the moment. But right now, her mind was elsewhere. Her heart ached at the sight of the damage—the long, cruel red streak cutting through the masterpiece of ink and skin like an artist's work slashed by a careless hand.

Her fingers lingered, just for a second too long, tracing the edges of the wound before moving lower, following the natural curve of Vi's back without thinking. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus, to ignore the way the candlelight reflected off Vi's damp skin, the way every breath brought their bodies imperceptibly closer.

Vi made a low sound in her throat, something between a sigh and a hum, her head tilting slightly forward as if inviting more. Caitlyn clenched her jaw, feeling heat pool in her stomach at the unspoken tension curling between them.

"I don't even know where to start, Vi," she finally whispered, hypnotized by the task at hand. "Where did you go? What happened?"

Why did you leave me behind?

Vi, at least, had the decency to keep her scoffs and jokes to herself and only took a deep breath, stretching the skin of her new cut a bit more apart.

"I went everywhere, Cait. I'm not even sure what day it is or how long I was gone, to be honest. I just did things my way. I went to every single bar I could find. Every single weird-ass remote village they could pick as a target."

"Just like that? Completely randomly?"

"Yeah. Told you, your way ain't working. I had to try mine."

Caitlyn bit her lip to hold back a snarky remark.

"Did you find anything?"

Vi scoffed.

"You know I didn't. I would've come to pick you up sooner if I had."

The answer surprised Caitlyn. Really? She would have come back for her—or for her help—if she had found Powder? She wanted to believe Vi was being honest, but her own doubts refused to give in.

"What happened tonight, Vi? Why are you… like this? You look like you went to war… Your shoulder should be fine, by the way. It'll leave a nasty scar, though. Maybe Mrs. Pomfrey could've done better."

"Nah, it's fine. Thank you, Cupcake. I feel a lot better already. As for tonight…"

She sighed.

"I knew I couldn't keep this up for long. I've got no money left. I could've kept picking random places all my life and still never find them."

Caitlyn pulled Vi closer and, to her own surprise, wrapped her arms around her, Vi's back resting against her chest.

"I don't want to be mean, but this was a very dumb idea, Vi."

"Wait 'til you hear my next one…"

Vi looked up at the starry sky on the ceiling and allowed herself to feel the healing waters for a second. And Caitlyn's presence for a little longer.

"I decided to try Vander's way."

"What do you mean, Vander's… oh. Oh no. Vi, please tell me you didn't."

"Sure I did."

Caitlyn couldn't see Vi's face, but by the sound of her voice breaking, she knew tears were close to falling.

"I found a place in South London tonight. Looked sketchy enough, so I went to pick a fight."

Vi gazed down at her own knuckles, and only now did Caitlyn realize they were scratched and bruised.

"You thought they might notice you, just like Grindelwald noticed Silco and your father…"

"Yeah…"

She sniffed, and Caitlyn could almost hear the tears on her cheeks now. She herself felt like crying out of desperation.

"I guess they were better than me, though… I got one or two, but before I knew it, I was sent flying through a window…"

She looked back up and lost herself in the fake stars.

"I thought they were gonna kill me, Cait… So I fled. Came back here straight away. Needed help."

She turned her head to the right, trying to catch Caitlyn's eyes behind her.

"Needed you."

Caitlyn sighed and leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss on Vi's uninjured shoulder—the most intimate thing she felt she had ever allowed herself to do with her.

"I'm sorry to say, Vi, but every time I think you've had the dumbest idea ever, you manage to have a worse one."

Vi laughed—painfully—her shoulder shaking slightly under Caitlyn's chin.

"Yeah, I know. Although, to be fair, I think this one will be hard to top. I hope. I'm not sure what 'worse' would look like."

Dead, thought Caitlyn. You would be dead. But she didn't say it out loud.

Vi freed herself from Cait's hold and turned around, facing her, her face just a few centimeters from her own.

"I'm sorry, Cait. I'm really sorry. I was desperate. I still am. I'm lost, and I'm hurting like crazy, and I feel like I'm about to go mad at any second. But I shouldn't have… I mean, I didn't… Eurgh. Fuck. I'm sorry, Cait. I'm really, really sorry."

Caitlyn finally allowed herself to smile a little.

"Thank you, Vi. I accept your apology… as long as you promise never to do that again. I told you—the list of people I truly care about is really small, and you're on it… I really don't want to bury you too."

Vi smiled and leaned forward, her lips aiming for Caitlyn's.

And Caitlyn dodged.

"Aaaand you are not getting your bloody lips anywhere near mine!"

Before Vi could answer, Caitlyn moved forward and pressed a gentle, fleeting kiss on her lips. It was warm, ephemeral, the kind of moment you'd miss if you blinked. Vi wasn't even sure it had happened, too astounded to react.

"But I can get mine close to yours. Come on, let's get you to bed."