"I'm sure he's doing fine," Daphne assured me, ushering my unwilling body down the flights of stairs to the dungeons. "He's got all of Gryffindor house looking after him now."
"I just don't want him and the others to think that I'm abandoning him," I insisted, looking behind my shoulder as I considered returning to the Gryffindors. Daphne continued to drag me down the corridor.
"Oh please, they won't even notice you're gone — Now, come on! There's a Slytherin house party awaiting us."
We had finally arrived in the Slytherin common room. The party had already started, it seemed. Students were spread throughout the common room. Seventh and sixth years seemed to be monopolizing the fireplace, and Flint was at the center, downing a bottle of firewhisky. Music that I had never heard before was playing, and students were dancing, chanting, and rejoicing.
"And what exactly are we celebrating?" I queried, peering around curiously. I couldn't find the S4 in the crowd, but I could spot Malfoy and our fellow third years sitting at the couch area, engrossed in a zealous conversation.
"Gryffindor losing," Daphne said as if it were painfully obvious.
"Ah," was all I could muster before mumbling an excuse that I needed to use the washroom.
Unfortunately, the girls' dormitories were not completely sound-proof, leaving me to lie on my back with a pillow over my face.
Someone snorted nearby, and I promptly removed the pillow from my face.
It was Millicent Bulstrode. I hadn't noticed her in the dormitory when I entered earlier. She was sat on her bed, scribbling in a notebook.
"Not much of a party person?" she asked simply, her eyes glued to her notebook.
"No, not really, unfortunately," I confessed. She laughed lowly. "I'm surprised you're not in the midst of this anti-Gryffindor party."
"I may hate Gryffindor, but I hate boisterous and rowdy students even more," she deadpanned. She continued scribbling in her notebook.
I gently took a sitting position on my bed.
"What are you writing?" I asked, peering over to her bed where her notebook lay on her crossed legs. I could not decipher her messy scrawl of handwriting for the life of me.
"Incantations."
I waited for her to elaborate, but she did not.
"Incantations for what?" I pressed.
"Incantations to stop creeps like you from prying into my personal business," she said, peeved.
"I see. And is it working?" I pried.
"Apparently not."
And the next couple of days remained just as uneventful as this conversation with Millicent Bulstrode. The weekend passed by in a flash, and before I knew it, I was back in class.
Malfoy made it a religion to mock Harry for falling off his broom at the quidditch match. He'd imitate dementors when seeing him in the hallways and feign fainting and falling. There was a point where Ron lost his cool in potions class and lunged a wet crocodile heart at Malfoy, landing on his pathetic face. Snape didn't take too kindly to it, but it made my day to witness it.
"I can deal with him personally," I offered one morning in the Great Hall. Harry laughed gently.
"Honestly, I'm not as bummed about Malfoy as I am about my broom getting smashed by the Whomping Willow," he said, slightly despondent.
"Where the hell does that tree come from anyway? It's such a waste of space," Ron interjected.
"Lupin says it was planted the year he started attending Hogwarts," Harry shrugged.
And the following weeks, I'd stay around the Gryffindor trio, spouting insults at Malfoy when he'd try to taunt Harry again. Eventually, he seemed to have realized how old his jokes were getting as the mocking died down.
I bet it was a slap in the face for Malfoy, too, when Ravenclaw flattened Hufflepuff in their match at the end of November. This meant that Gryffindor still had a chance to win the cup, and I just knew Malfoy's blood boiled with the mere thought of that. I obviously wanted Slytherin to win the quidditch cup, but if Gryffindor winning meant Malfoy having a tantrum, then maybe Gryffindor winning wasn't so bad either.
I'd been advancing in learning more about mending potions for James in the girl's haunted bathroom. He seemed to have forgotten about having given me detention, and I opted to avoid speaking to him in case he remembered. At least for now.
Myrtle, as usual, kept me company, and although she had the tendency to harass me about inviting boys over, she was also quite pleasant to have around, keeping me company while I brewed.
It had been weeks since the last full moon, and I was prepared to confront whomever this Hufflepuff boy was at the Black Lake. I had an odd hunch it was Romeo, but I didn't dare speak to him until I knew with certainty.
"I just hope there won't be any dementors," I sighed, carefully stirring this modified cure for boils I was making. "The dementors have been so human-starved these past few months. I don't know how safe it'd be for me to venture out there alone."
"Well, you won't be alone," Myrtle said. And I smiled, thinking she meant herself, until she said, "Romeo will be there, won't he?"
"Ah, right," I said. "Well, still. In the case of a dementor, I wouldn't know what to do. I'd probably just die. Not to mention the mass murderer on the loose."
"What's this about?" someone asked. They were standing at the entrance of the girls' bathroom.
It was James Lancaster. I was surprised to see him here as he'd typically never come wandering in here — albeit most potions I'd been working on recently had been for him.
"Oh, James," I uttered in surprise.
"Blackwood," he acquiesced.
"What brings you here?" I asked, now finishing up the potion I was making.
"Well, I was just passing by, thought I'd pop in for a visit. You haven't spoken to us in a bit," he said, frowning slightly.
"Oh, sorry," I responded. "I've just been with the Gryffindors for a bit. Slytherin's been kind of annoying with Hufflepuff's victory."
"Haven't they always been annoying, though?" he offered. I laughed.
"Well, it's mostly Malfoy, in this case," I admitted. "But I think things have cooled down right about now. Maybe it's time I come back."
"Maybe, indeed," James said, nodding. "So what's this I hear about dementors?"
"Huh?"
"I came in, and you were going on about dementors and Sirius Black — are you planning on leaving school grounds, Maeve Blackwood?" he said sternly. I stammered.
"Er — well, I — not out of school grounds, just — the Black Lake," I said, feeling pathetic for admitting to it. James was prefect. He would never let me do it.
"I presume you mean during nighttime?" he inquired.
Reluctantly, I nodded. James smirked, amused.
"And what exactly are you going to the Black Lake for in the middle of the night?"
"It's a full moon," I shrugged, hoping it would be enough to convince him.
"And?"
"Well, I need fresh moon water," I lied wildly. I wanted to pat myself on the back for that one, as it seemed convincing enough that James nodded.
"Well, I suppose I can understand that. But I can't let you go. Not alone," he decided, moving swiftly and closer to me. I was sitting on the floor, so he towered over me.
"A prefect letting me break school rules?" I mused, feeling queasy. "That's very kind of you. Myrtle will be accompanying me, though. I'll be fine."
"And a boy named Romeo too, apparently," he added. My jaw dropped slightly. I was unsure just how much of my conversation with Myrtle he had overheard. Hopefully, not much.
"Right, so I'm well protected already," I said with certainty.
"You're not," he countered. "I'm coming with you."
I blinked, unsure of how to proceed.
"So I gather you're headed there tonight?" he asked though he already knew the answer.
"I suppose..." I groaned, feeling defeated. "You know, maybe I just won't go. So, you can just drop it."
"I see," he mused, repressing a smirk. "So, I suppose this means you're free tonight? Free to serve your detention, that is?"
My heart dropped. I was hoping he'd have forgotten about that.
"You didn't think I'd have forgotten about that, did you?" he taunted. It was as if he were reading my mind.
I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Just why couldn't I get any privileges for befriending a prefect? What was the point?
"So, are you free tonight or not?" he pressed on.
It'd just occurred to me now that I hadn't spoken since he voiced his detention suggestion.
"Why are you so bloody keen on torturing me. Salazar," I exasperated. He grinned, amused. "Fine. You can come with me to collect moon water tonight. Bloody Hell."
I lay face-first on my bed that evening, pretending to be asleep. The prefects had taken Slytherin attendance two hours ago. Any moment now, I would be on my way to the Black Lake to wait for Romeo (allegedly) and see what he had been up to every month.
As much as I hoped James would forget about my planned excursion with him tonight, I somehow also felt giddy about it. Almost as if I were looking forward to it. But I didn't understand why I felt like this. I was supposed to be annoyed and upset with him for not allowing me to go without him.
I couldn't sit around and wait anymore. Feeling scatterbrained, I tiptoed around my roommates' beds, careful not to make a sound, and found my way into the corridor of the dormitories.
It was dark in the hallway, so I clung to the walls as I guided my body to the common room, not daring to light my wand in case there was a Prefect. The common room fireplace was dimly lit. A large shadowy figure zoomed past the large window panes behind the fireplace. I squinted. It must've been one of the giant squid's tentacles.
I couldn't see any Prefects lingering around, which was good news to me because that meant I could traipse out of the common room unnoticed. Although, I was curious as to why James wasn't waiting for me out here. I expected him to jump out before me, startling me any moment now.
Nothing. Just the breezy noise of water moving behind the glass panes, the gentle crackling of the fireplace, and a student softly snoring, apparently — from the couches?
I inched closer. There was definitely someone lying there on the couch, sleeping, and I could faintly hear them breathing. I peeked over the edge of the couch, expecting to see someone like Wyatt — he'd be the type to fall asleep in here, I reckoned.
I gasped softly.
It was James.
He was breathing gently, his chest heaving up and down calmly, and his prefect badge, for once, fastened on his robes. His eyes were closed, and his lips slightly parted. The dim flames of the fireplace faintly illuminated his figure on the couch. His dark hair had fallen slightly on one side, half-revealing the pink scar above his eye.
I extended my hand over the couch but couldn't fully reach him. Cautiously, I semi-climbed over the couch to reach his hair with my hand. Neatly, I repositioned his bangs over his scar. It didn't look right. I tried again—
I suddenly lost balance and toppled over the couch, landing abruptly on James' sleeping body. He woke up with a loud gasp and, in a panic, immediately shoved my body off him and onto the floor with a loud thud before I could realize what had just happened.
"Ah, shite," I groaned. "My back..."
The center of my back was searing with pain as if someone was continuously stabbing me. It didn't feel like anything was broken, but I knew it would bruise.
James, suddenly gaining awareness of his surroundings and now sitting up straight, looked at me with utter disconcertment. He struggled to speak.
"I — What were you doing — I didn't realize that was you—"
"I was repositioning your hair on your scar until I lost balance and fell on you," I grunted, shifting myself into a seated position and trying to soothe and straighten my back with one hand.
"I'm sincerely — I'm sorry for pushing you onto the ground — truly, I did not realize it was you, Maeve," James said, and he slid off the couch to join me on the floor. I tried to ignore the weird fluttery feeling in my stomach as James looked intently at me.
"Yeah, I kind of asked for it. It's fine," I tried to repress a moan of pain. James looked disoriented.
"Let me bring you to the Hospital Wing," he offered, reaching his arms around me to help me get up.
"I think I'll be okay," I assured him. James successfully pulled me up into a standing position. I winced.
"I don't think so," he said, his lips pressed against each other with uncertainty. His brow was furrowed, and he looked at me with intense worry. I felt my cheeks heating up slightly.
"I — It's fine, Lancaster," I insisted. "Besides, I really have to be somewhere tonight."
"Moon water," he said in sudden realization. "I must've fallen asleep waiting for you—"
"You did," I confirmed, trying to repress a backpain-induced wince. "And about that... I should probably tell you something."
He nodded, urging me to continue. I braced myself.
"Well, I'm not going out for moon water," I confessed, and James' eyebrow immediately perked up with curiosity. "I'm going out to spy on this Hufflepuff kid because I have reason to believe that he's acting weird — Well, I'm not sure what he's doing. But it's very bizarre, and I want to know who he is and why he does what he does."
"And what exactly is he doing?" James asked, puzzled by my chaotic explanation.
"Well, you'll have to be there to witness it. We should get going before he disappears," I said hurriedly.
"I have so many questions," James said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"I know, and I promise it'll make sense once we get there," I said.
Hurrying to the Black Lake was practically impossible. I tried my best to ignore this searing pain in my back, but it made walking very difficult. James insisted on bringing me to the Hospital Wing, but I insisted that I wanted to finish my Black Lake business first. He reluctantly agreed and opted to help me walk there safely, making me promise that I would let him bring me to the Hospital Wing once we were done.
"Yeah, yeah," I said dismissively. "Come on, let's hide behind the bushes there. I bet he's on his way."
We were very lucky indeed that there were no dementors in sight — nor any Sirius Black for that matter. All that kept us company was the chilling late autumn weather.
"How long are we going to be waiting for?" James asked urgently. "It's bloody cold out here."
"Just use a summoning charm for your coat, then," I shrugged. James rolled his eyes at me but accioed his coat anyway.
At last, someone was walking out of the castle. James and I remained still behind the bushes. It was so cold that I could barely feel my back pain anymore. And we were so quiet; we could barely hear our own breathing anymore.
The person finally reached the Black Lake. And it was exactly who I was expecting. Romeo Linares. He stared at the Black Lake adoringly as if he were in love with the water.
A wooshing sound could be heard in the distance. I turned my gaze back to the castle. James' coat was flying towards us at last. James looked pleased with its arrival, but I was worried that Romeo would notice us — until I realized he was gone.
"Blimey!" I exclaimed. "He's gone! He — I bet he's in the water again."
James adjusted his coat comfortably as its warmth soothed his gently shivering body.
I scampered awkwardly over to where Romeo Linares was previously standing, ignoring the piercing ache I was feeling in my back.
The water serenely moved to and fro on the shore, and the reflection of the full moon was rippling and elongated on the surface of the lake. Romeo was nowhere to be seen.
"Alright, time to bring you to the Hospital Wing," James decided suddenly. He marched towards me, ready to grab my arms, but I stepped back before he could drag me to the castle.
"Aren't you disturbed at all by this? A bloody student just disappeared right here. And he's been doing it once a month, whenever the moon is full," I pointed at the perfectly circular moon above our heads, utterly bewildered.
"Of course, I'm disturbed," James sighed. "This is definitely very bizarre, but Maeve — Blackwood, I have to bring you to the Hospital Wing. You promised that once we were done here—"
"But I'm not bloody done," I cried out. "I must find out why and what he's doing down there. You didn't see it tonight, but let me inform you that every month he's been just casually walking into the Black Lake and then disappearing — Oh, and I saw him with someone — who's not a professor, by the way. It was a totally random middle-aged man — and that man just did the same thing! Just vanished into the Black Lake like — It's almost like there's people living in the Black Lake—"
"You mean mermaids? The Black Lake is home to a colony of mermaids, you know," James inserted wisely.
"Are you suggesting that Romeo is a mermaid — or affiliated with them somehow?" I blinked, not entirely incredulous at the possibility.
"Well, no — I don't know — Look, can we talk about this another day?" James said. "Allow me to bring you to the Hospital Wing, Blackwood."
"But—"
"For fuck's sake, Maeve," James exasperated, and without asking again, he swooped me off my feet and carried me bridal style to the castle.
I was flustered. I felt like I was melting on the inside from embarrassment. But there wasn't much I could do. James was right. I had hurt myself, and the longer I stalled, the harder I was hurting myself. I had been so preoccupied with this Romeo mystery that I had ignored the utter agony my body was in.
When we arrived at the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey was not present, which wasn't alarming, seeing as students were not expected out of their bedrooms at this time of the night.
James lay me on a random empty bed. I tried to ignore this gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach as he looked around in semi-panic for Madam Pomfrey. He eventually excused himself and went looking for her in her sleeping quarters. In the meantime, my mind spiraled. What if I had hurt myself so bad that I couldn't walk anymore? What if, by the time Madam Pomfrey arrived, I was already paralyzed from this deep knife-like pain in my back?
And suddenly, James returned with Madam Pomfrey, who made me sit up so she could point her wand at my back and detect any damage.
"You've fractured your spine," she said. I groaned. "Nothing I can't fix, Miss Blackwood."
And before I could complain about fracturing my spine, the Matron was casting spells and making me swallow potions.
"Now, you should spend the night here and rest well. I'll send a note to your professors so you may be excused from classes tomorrow. You'll only have a few bruises left. Once you leave the Infirmary tomorrow, I recommend spreading some Dittany Oil on the parts of your back that hurt to reduce the swelling." Madam Pompfrey conjured a bottle of Dittany Oil and put it on my bedside table. "Now, Mr. Lancaster. I understand that you are a lrefect, but I nevertheless ask that you return to your dormitories. Miss Blackwood is safe now. Thank you for bringing her."
James nodded at the Matron and gave me an apologetic smile.
"Rest well, Maeve," he said before leaving the Infirmary.