EXIT

6. OBSIDIAN BLACK

6. OBSIDIAN BLACK

Alongside my obligatory, increasingly disturbing chats with Lovegood (she's decided to be invariably overly friendly to me), the new week began with another enjoyable exchange with Potter and Weasley. They asked me to list all the hideouts that I'm sure are currently being used by the Death Eaters and, of course, I was more than willing to help. However, something during our meeting made me feel that an attack by the Resistance is imminent.

The rebels don't often attack first; never really did, to be honest. Usually it was us who first invaded their territories and opened up a new combat zone, a new battlefield. But I suspect that now (given their newly acquired information about the Exit) they will go on the offensive for the first time. They want my statements confirmed at all costs and I can't even blame them. If roles were reversed, I would do the same.

Potter also informed me that our appointments (as he puts it) will take place on a regular basis from now on. Over the next few weeks, I'm supposed to write down everything I know, draw blueprints and make guesses as to who is currently in which lair.

Committing my information to writing will probably be the easiest part of the whole thing, as I've precautionally memorized everything I found useful during my preparations for my defection. So I agreed to Potter's demands.

What's in it for me? Well, I'm now allowed to use my own wand in combat training. If I need to attend one of the training sessions, either Blaise or Creevey will bring it for me.

When Potter broke this good news to me, I couldn't help but burst into gales of laughter. Gods, they're lucky I'm the one who defected and not some other Death Eater. For my part, I have no intention of betraying that trust, that stupidity, that naivety, but with most of us they would have had trouble in that regard.

But hey, my principle still applies: I won't complain.

And something else has changed. While the watch schedules and other lists posted in the atrium remain unreadable to my eyes thanks to Blaise's sneaky magic, Camp Black's daily schedule is available to me as of now. Probably another instruction from Potter, after all I have to know when to pitch up where.

So now, as I glance at the black board in passing, I learn the following: I'm scheduled for both the morning workout and the afternoon combat training.

I take a deep breath, cross the training room and push open the door to the workout room. I have a bad feeling because the schedule also noted who else would be there.

Among others, Granger's name was listed for today's workout. And unless she decided to skip it to avoid me, today will be our first encounter since I lost that duel. Which, by the way, would also mean that we even have to put up with each other twice today, because I am very sure that she will be in charge of the combat training again.

I spot Blaise and Creevey in a corner and walk over to them, purposely keeping my eyes on the floor. If Granger is already here, it's probably best to ignore her for as long as possible.

"Today is our little one's favorite day," Blaise proclaims, giving Creevey a friendly pat on the shoulder. "The official brawl day."

Creevey grins.

I raise an eyebrow in doubt.

"Fist fights? Are you serious?"

It's not that I don't have any experience, because the Death Eaters don't treat each other with kid gloves either. They, too, sometimes become violent when they grow tired of their wand-waving. Still, it's not exactly my preferred way of fighting. Forced bodily contact is just not my cup of tea, and thank you very much.