Things with the Heir of Slytherin were no less frightening after the winter holidays. Although no one had yet been attacked since the students returned, all of the rules remained in place. This annoyed Eliot immensely, as it meant he could no longer get to Quidditch practice as early as he liked without either getting yelled at or suspected of being the Heir of Slytherin. He was no longer worried about his appearance in the locker rooms, at least. He was still awkwardly proportioned and a bit gangly, but being a Beater had made him a bit more muscular. He had always been decent at Quidditch, but he was doing much better with Anna's constructive criticism. He was beginning to gain the confidence his father was so notorious for. He didn't care who saw him, unless they saw who he was looking at. His crush on Cedric still refused to go away, but no one seemed to notice the way that Eliot's face turned bright pink whenever Cedric's shirt came off.
After one Quidditch practice where Anna held him behind to give him some tips, Eliot was just finished changing back into his school robes when he heard a knock at the door. He opened it and found Anna standing there, her cheeks pink against the cold.
"Eli?" She asked. "Could you walk back to the common room with me? Everyone else already left."
"Yeah, sure." Eli nodded, collecting his things.
"Thanks!" She smiled.
They left the Quidditch pitch in the darkness. Eliot pulled out his wand and muttered, "Lumos," to light the way. They didn't say much to one another until they approached the castle doors.
"I'm afraid. I'm a Muggle-born, you know," Anna said.
"I'm afraid, too," Eliot admitted as they entered the castle. "Who do you think it could be? I really don't believe the rumor that it's Harry."
"Harry Potter?" She asked. "I'm not sure. He's always been nice, but he's a bit weird, don't you think? Maybe that's why."
Eliot wanted to snap at her for saying that, but managed to hold his tongue. "I mean, he's my friend, and I've never heard him say anything against Muggle-borns. Hermione Granger's a Muggle-born, and they're practically attached at the hip half the time."
"Oh, yeah. You're probably right." Anna shrugged. "I guess whoever it is must be in Slytherin, though, right? Heir of Slytherin and all that?"
"I think so, but you don't necessarily have to be the same house as your ancestors, do you?" He asked.
"I suppose not. It's really common, though, right?"
"Yeah, sure. I mean, before my dad, my whole family was—" An odd sound that he couldn't quite place came from behind them, and he cut himself off. He had the sudden feeling that someone was following them.
"What was that?" Eliot asked.
"Don't turn around," Anna hissed.
"Do you think it's—"
"Just keep walking. They won't follow us into the common room, come on."
Eliot obeyed, though it still felt as if they were being followed. He caught a glimpse of movement in a window and instinctively grabbed Anna's hand. She glared at him and he dropped it, though he soon felt her hand gripping the back of his robes.
"I can see whoever it is in the reflection." He whispered, pointing at a nearby window. Both of them looked, their gazes simultaneously meeting the reflection of a pair of bright yellow eyes.
The two petrified bodies were discovered quickly, as they were so near the Great Hall — so near the safety of their common room, yet so far. A group of Hufflepuff students stumbled upon them on the way to dinner. Eliot was frozen pointing at nothing; Anna had a fistful of Eliot's robes in her hand. They were separated and moved to the hospital wing, where Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Snape, and Dumbledore were gathered, along with Madam Pomfrey. The other Professors were patrolling the castle, ensuring the students remained in their dormitories.
"Professors will have to be at all Quidditch practices from now on, and the teams must stay together the entire time," Dumbledore decided. "Though I wouldn't be shocked if we have to cancel Quidditch entirely after this."
"I suppose this rules out Mr. Black as a suspect," Snape jeered.
"I believe it does, Severus, but I also never suspected him in the first place," Dumbledore said.
"His father has done far worse—"
"But we must remember that Mr. Black is not his father, and in fact, has not seen his father in more than eleven years and thus could not be influenced by him," Dumbledore interjected. "Speaking of, we must tell the families of the victims what has occurred."
"I'll inform their parents at once," Sprout said.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "I would like to be the one to tell Remus, if possible, Albus."
Dumbledore nodded. "I think that would be best."
"Mr. Black is my student, I'm fine with doing it," Sprout insisted. "I must have sent Remus a thousand letters in the past two and a half years, it's about time I talk to him about Eliot in person."
"And that is greatly appreciated, Pomona," Dumbledore said. "However, for Eliot's guardian specifically, I believe Minerva is best suited for the job."
Sprout wasn't one to argue with Dumbledore. McGonagall was sent to tell Remus what had happened, while Sprout went to Anna's family.
Remus awoke to a loud bang — no, a knock. Someone was knocking on his door at... He glanced at the clock. Late, he decided, too bleary-eyed to make out the exact numbers. He threw on a sweater over his pajamas. He trudged to the door and cracked it open, peering out. The moment he recognized her, which took a second too long, he threw the door open. "Professor McGonagall!"
"Hello, Remus." She forced a smile. "I'm sorry to bother you this late, but it's urgent."
"Oh, Merlin." Remus sighed. He stepped aside to let her in, and they sat across from one another at the kitchen table. Eliot must've finally done it, he thought. He's gotten himself expelled. He was too tired to offer her tea. He hoped she'd excuse his rudeness, just this once, due to the circumstances.
"I'm sure Eliot has told you about the petrification of Muggle-born students at Hogwarts," McGonagall began.
"Yes, he's mentioned it." Remus picked at a small hole in the sleeve of his sweater. "Eli isn't... He's not the Heir of Slytherin, is he?" It was plausible enough, if what Sirius told him about his family was true: "All in Slytherin up until me, the whole lot of them. They were so terribly disappointed that I was in Gryffindor." Perhaps Remus's second worst fear had come true. Perhaps Eliot was as bad as Sirius.
McGonagall's solemn look turned to a small smile. She shook her head. "Oh, no. He's trouble, but he's not evil. And I'm not here to talk about his mischief, I'm afraid." She sighed and her face fell back to concern. "Eliot has been attacked by Slytherin's monster."
Remus's exasperation turned to dread. The entire world around him disappeared as his insides twisted around uncomfortably. He couldn't tell if his heart was stopped or beating so quickly that he couldn't feel it. "You mean... He's..."
"He's alive, but he's been petrified."
Remus calmed down ever so slightly upon hearing that, but it still was terrible news. He'd heard of petrification before — the victim might as well be dead while they were in that state. He felt tears wetting his cheeks and wiped them off with the sleeve of his sweater. He tried with futility to stop — he hated to cry in front of people, and Professor McGonagall was probably second only to Dumbledore on his list of people he hoped would never see him cry.
"It's alright, Remus," She whispered, reaching across the table to pat his arm. "He's going to be fine. In a few months, Professor Snape will have a potion ready that will cure him."
"A few months?" He asked. He also silently worried, just slightly, about whether Severus might take the opportunity to poison Sirius's child. He disregarded that thought and felt a little guilty for even thinking it in the first place. As much as Snape hated Sirius, it was a long-ago rivalry that was certainly over. If Dumbledore trusted Snape to cure the petrified children, Remus would, too.
She nodded. "Unfortunately, Professor Sprout's Mandrakes are not ready for the potion yet. But as soon as the potion is ready, Eliot will be fine."
He put his head in his hands and stared down at the scuffed wood of the table. Eliot was petrified. He would miss the second half of his third year. He would miss several months of learning, Quidditch, bonding with his friends. He would probably miss out on a lot of important things, and worst of all, he wasn't even aware he was missing it.
"Are you alright, Remus?"
He shook his head. "Thank you, Professor, but I think... I should get some rest."
"Of course." She nodded and stood up. "I'm very sorry, Remus, but I sewar to you, he will be alright. If you need anything at all, you know how to reach me."
He nodded.
As soon as the door was closed behind her, his heart felt as if it had imploded. He stood up and returned to bed. He lay there and stared at the ceiling. He felt his breaths hitch as tears dampened his sheets. It was all he could do to keep breathing. Eliot would not wake up tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. Sure, he would wake up someday. Hopefully someday soon. But for the time being, Eliot may as well have been dead.