"You're absolutely infuriating." He breathed out, pressing her body against the bookshelf with his own. His dark eyes brewed with irritation, and another emotion she couldn't quite decipher.
"Trust me." She said, her chest heaving with every bre...
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February 16th, 1947
Determined footsteps could be heard in the empty halls of the dungeons. Classes were dismissed that day, and students had chosen to hide in their common rooms and dorms, afraid they may be deemed suspicious by the aurors. From what had been seen so far, the aurors were ruthless in their investigation. Teachers walked out of the headmaster's office looking weary, nervous and exhausted, as though the aurors had interrogated them with a wand to their neck. A few aurors wandered about the halls with a notepad and quill in their hands, writing down names of students who walked alone, or who whispered suspiciously to their friends. It was stressful for the students. Not only were they faced with upcoming NEWTS and exams, but they were also scuttering away from merciless aurors.
"Are you sure about this?" Alphard questioned Fabula as he followed behind her like a chick following a hen. "If the aurors see us they'll probably write our names on their dreaded pads."
"It doesn't matter. No matter how many names they write down, they still won't question the right person on time." Fabula said.
"What if you're wrong?" Alphard said. "At the end of the day, you're basing all of this on a hunch."
"It's not a hunch." The blonde shook her head. "I know it. Grindelwald would never risk himself like that. He knows that the Ministry would be after him, and they'll be more vigorous than ever because of Riddle and Cerys. Either way, we'll be doing the Ministry a favor."
Slughorn's office came into to view. Without hesitation, Fabula knocked on the door. Heavy footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and moments later the heavy wood creaked open. "Ah, children. Is everything well?" Slughorn's gentle and airy voice spoke in surprise.
"We just had a few questions." Fabula said, glancing over at Alphard.
"Yes, yes. Come inside." The pair walked inside, Alphard crinkled his nose at the distinctive smell that lingered in the air. It smelled like alcohol and something like a cough potion. "What is it that you wish to speak of?"
"Well...well." And abruptly, it was like a switch turned on in Fabula. Her face fell into a deep, worrisome frown, her eyes casting themselves to the ground as her fingers twisted around one another as though trying to wring the blood out of them. Alphard looked utterly dumbfounded, unsure of what happened to his friend.
"Miss Bulstrode, are you alright?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that...You know Cerys is our friend. It's a bit hard." Her lips wobbled. "I can't fathom what happened to her and all so suddenly."
Slughorn's expression morphed into that of sympathy. "Yes, I was very sorry to hear what happened to Miss Grahamm and Mr Riddle. They were my most prized students."
