Illusory § Order of the Phoenix

XIX. ALTERNATIVE METHODS

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With the weekend came an unusual lull in Antares' tightly packed schedule. Besides an afternoon Potions class (a short one, at that), he was free to walkabout the castle as he pleased. Of course, this didn't mean he was free from work. Friday's turned out to be a challenge since Harry didn't have any classes. Tracking him down within the castle seemed near impossible.

In the meantime, the Gryffindor was doing better in his classes. While he had yet to brew a perfect potion, Snape didn't try to single him out either. Yet, despite his newfound academic standing, he hadn't spoken to Antares since their row in Study Hall. In fact, Harry took to avoiding him like a bad case of dragonpox, which Antares would have applauded if not for the fact that they were supposed to be allies.

Antares had checked the usual spots: the Quidditch Pitch, the Training Grounds and the Clocktower, but still couldn't find his elusive ward. When he finished checking the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest, praying to the stars that Harry wasn't stupid enough to hide there, he resorted to casting Appare Vestigium. As he watched the gold whisps surround the patchy grass beneath him, a glittering trail revealed itself behind him and led to the Owlery. The Slytherin mentally berated himself for forgetting about Hedwig.

He quickly followed the trail, making his way up the winding stairs of the Owlery. The hooting of owls echoed softly through the circular chamber. Tucked into the side, Antares spotted Harry sitting on a window ledge, his back to the room. Quietly, he created a barrier over the room using the Imperturbable charm. He came here for answers, and he would get them. When the last of the magic sealed itself inches away from Harry's face, it caught his attention.

"Did you truly think that you could give me the slip?" Antares inquired with a blank face, though his tone edged with humour. "I am genuinely asking."

Harry shifted uncomfortably on the window ledge, his gaze fixed on the grounds below. "I'm not trying to avoid you," Harry mumbled, his voice barely audible.

Antares scoffed, "Right, and I'm Myron Wagtail."

Harry scrunched his face in confusion.

"Lead singer of the Weird Sisters?" the Slytherin raised an eyebrow. "They performed at the Yule Ball? No?"

Harry gave a frustrated sigh, unamused with him. "Look, it's not like that."

Antares raised an eyebrow, irritated. "Clearly, whatever 'it' is has been bothering you. We agreed, no secrets, remember?"

Harry finally turned to face him, his emerald eyes revealing resignation. "You told me I had to watch myself around Umbridge, and that's what I'm doing. If I cause a fuss, she'll make my life more miserable than she already is."

The older boy bit his lip in understanding. "I did say that, didn't I?" he said, dropping his head. "I should have worded it better. Umbridge is a problem, and you should be cautious around her, but that doesn't mean you should run from her, either. There is a difference between being careful and being afraid."