For a moment, Orli thought he might protest, refuse, or even try to bolt for the door. But he didn't.
"Sincerely hope certain people haven't slipped any poison in there," Moody said, picking up the potion and pulling out the cork. "If I drop dead, you'll know who to blame, Dumbledore."
Without the slightest hesitation, he tipped his head back and downed the entire vial in one gulp.
Then... nothing. His face, his entire body—not the slightest change. He remained standing there, still the same Moody.
"Right then, are we done? I'm off. There's something in my office I've forgotten to do... what was it again..." Moody carelessly tossed the empty vial aside and turned to leave.
"Wait a moment. Professor Moody, could I have a look at your hip flask?" Orli intercepted him.
"You?" Moody seemed puzzled but tossed the flask her way. Orli unscrewed the cap and sniffed—it was filled to the brim with strong liquor, no trace of any potion. She had no choice but to hand it back.
"Alastor, could I borrow Harry's map for a while? I heard you took it, didn't you?" Dumbledore asked.
"Oh, you're too late for that," Moody waved dismissively. "I was studying it half the night, but I botched a spell and broke the bloody thing. So first thing this morning I sent it off to Sirius—he says it's so old he can't remember half the spells. Might take months to fix, who knows?"
"What a terrible shame," Dumbledore said, his eyes never leaving Moody's face.
"If there's nothing else, I'll be going. Need to get back to my office." Moody shot Snape a pointed look, then stomped out on his wooden leg, the heavy thump-thump echoing as he went.
Once again, only Dumbledore, Snape, and Orli remained in the office.
"You both saw it—it's not Alastor," Dumbledore said, falling into deep contemplation. "So then, who else might Avery be impersonating?"
"Headmaster, Professor, we could slip the antidote into all the soups and drinks at dinner! We need to screen the entire school," Orli said urgently.
"No, Orli, we cannot do that..." Dumbledore shook his head. "You should understand the risks of misusing potions—setting aside how it would make the food taste absolutely dreadful, the potential side effects alone could harm everyone's health. What if they consume something that reacts badly with the antidote afterward? What if the potion conflicts with certain foods? Madam Pomfrey would never forgive me if she heard about this grand scheme of yours."
"But Avery is somewhere in our school right now. He could be Filch, he could be Malfoy, he could even be Ron!" Orli refused to back down.
"Orli, calm yourself," Dumbledore regarded her steadily. "Severus and I will handle this matter. Your job now is to attend your classes properly, and under no circumstances should you investigate Avery on your own—it would be extremely dangerous. And keep an eye on Harry, would you?"
"I might not be able to keep an eye on Harry anymore," Orli said with a bitter smile, shaking her head. "Well then, I'll be off. I hope you can root out Avery soon."
She gave Dumbledore a slight bow, glanced at Snape, then turned and walked out of the office.
For a long stretch afterward, everything fell into a frustrating stalemate.
Orli found herself isolated once again—Hermione would spend time with her occasionally, but more often she had to stay with Harry, helping him prepare for the second task as it drew ever closer.
She watched the three of them go off to meals, to the library, to classes together. It felt as though this was how the story was always meant to unfold, and she had always been the superfluous one.
A week before February 24th, one morning Orli dropped a bundle of gillyweed in front of Harry.
"What's this?" Harry recoiled in disgust. You couldn't really blame him—gillyweed looked revolting, like a slimy tangle of rat tails all knotted together.
"It's gillyweed. It'll let you breathe underwater. But it'll hurt at first," Orli said flatly.
"Really?" Harry hesitantly picked up the sticky, writhing mass, which squirmed in his palm like a live octopus.
"Harry, I wouldn't eat that if I were you. For all you know, that old bat gave it to her, and you'll drop dead the moment you swallow it," Ron sneered coldly.
Orli was livid. She let out a harsh laugh and turned away. Behind her, Hermione's furious shouting at Ron rang out, but Orli didn't have the heart to listen.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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