Ariadne's Thread ⭒ h. potter

Dairy Dreams

Despite everything, Ariadne did enjoy the victory. It was hard not to, after all. The spirit in the Common Room was infectious, helped along by the Firewhisky and Fizzing Whizzbees that Fred and George had snuck in from Hogsmeade. Strictly for fifth years and above, of course, and when poor Ginny tried to sneak a sip, she was sent upstairs by Percy Weasley, which Ariadne thought was somewhat hypocritical given the amber liquid in his own cup.

McGonagall did not stop in at midnight, as she had promised, but very generously allowed the students an extra hour into their festivities. When she did come by, robed in tartan and with her hair in tight curlers, she feigned shock and indignation at the students' audacity to celebrate, and a small wink sent Ariadne's way was the only hint that McGongall was more agreeable than she let on.

It was easy, then, for thoughts of the ring to fall by the wayside. Why should it matter if it was enchanted if it wasn't anymore? If, as much as she wracked her brains, she'd never know who RT was? If Gryffindor had won the match and there was Butterbeer to drink and songs to be sung?

So, Ariadne enjoyed the victory as much as she possibly could. She held up the Firebolt with pride, she dragged Hermione away from researching Hippogriff executions, and she tripped Ron so that he fell into Parvati Patil for a laugh.

And when she went to bed that night with the burden of Sirius Black tucked deep in the back of her mind, Ariadne contented herself with the realization for just one night, she was a regular second-year. Who could cheer, could laugh, could celebrate with her friends without being whispered about.

But only for one night.

Because not three hours later, an ungodly scream emitted from the other side of the tower.

Rubbing her bleary eyes, Ariadne sat up as Romilda launched her pillow at the door, rolling back over as she did.

"Washappenin'?" Olive murmured, sleep mask still firmly in place.

Ariadne turned to Ginny, who had begun to reach for the bath robe hanging on one of her bed posts. "Was that–?"

"Ron," Ginny confirmed as she tied the robe at the waist with a panicked speed. She shoved on slippers and began to run out the door. Ariadne grabbed her wand from her nightstand and followed suit, kicking the sheets off her bed in her haste.

Doors opened in the hallway behind them as they sprinted for the stairs, a frazzled and frizzy-haired Hermione emerging from one corridor, evidently having run down from the floor above.

"Was that–?" she began, cutting herself off at Ariadne's wild nod. Hermione raced down the stairs, just barely avoiding pushing Ginny as she passed, and arrived first to the Common Room.

When Ariadne came down just a few seconds later, she found Ron, Harry, Neville, Seamus and Dean standing in the center, each clad in their pajamas. Hermione stood inches away from Ron, searching him frantically for some sort of injury. When Ginny joined the search, Ron pushed her away by the head.

"What's happened?" Ariadne asked from the foot of the stairs. No one seemed to hear her, so she asked once more.

The second time caught Harry's attention, and his head swiveled towards her at the sound of her voice. He remained silent, however, green eyes widening. Ariadne felt suddenly like her feet were frozen to the ground, the world swirling around her. She widened her eyes back.

By now, students had begun to swarm the Common Room, with the girls filtering in around Ariadne. Fred, who appeared to have not ceased partying, though Ariadne was not sure where, grabbed a Butterbeer from the floor and took a swig.

"Still going, eh Ron?"

Ron shook his head mutely, searching the boys' stairs for something. Finally, Percy Weasley emerged, adjusting the Head Boy pin onto his pajama top.