Unspeakables; Rule One

Chapter Ten: A Lie Told Often Enough Becomes the Truth

Professor Matilda Weasley was the same kind of annoyingly nice that Teddy was, and it made Celeste want to pull her own hair out. The woman had sweet eyes behind those spectacles, the kind that crinkled at the edges even if she didn't find what you were saying as entertaining as she acted like she did. She also had perfect posture, and it reminded Celeste of how her childhood ballet instructor at the MiniWitchettes studio in wizarding London, would walk with her nose in the air and her hands folded behind her back. It was utterly eerie to watch the red-headed witch strut about in the same way while showing her around the castle.

Weasley was also a wonderful lie detector, which Celeste took as a challenge because she was the ultimate liar. The witch was practically trying to pull the truth off of Celeste's tongue, but little did Professor Weasley know; Celeste and Fig super-secret-best friend-swore to not tell anyone the details of what happened before their arrival. They were attacked by a rogue dragon and that was it.

The tour of Hogwarts seemed innocent in the beginning. Professor Weasley showed her how to get around, gave her a map of the grounds that was charmed to reveal her exact location, and they spoke briefly of Celeste's schedule. Somewhere between the Slytherin common room and their current destination, the auburn haired lady started to mention the previous day in very sly attempts. At first it was grating on Celeste's nerves. It wasn't until the beginning of the end of this horrible interaction that she found the professor's way of looping around what she actually wanted to talk about insanely amusing. So there they stood in the Central Hall of Hogwarts, using their pleasantries to verbally circle each other.

"Of course Miss Auclair, you are welcome to come join me in my office to express any concerns or frustrations as you settle in."

"I am most grateful to hear that, Professor."

"I imagine the hardships of the last few days have been particularly strenuous. A sense of fear or trepidation may be heightened for you as you explore the grounds." The professor added.

Celeste kept her focus on the fountain behind the older lady. It was magnificently made to depict different creatures, and the sirens that spun around the middle of it were carved with detail. One siren looked like a girl Celeste went to school with at Ilvermorny. The resemblance was uncanny.

"Professor Fig, has already made it abundantly clear to me that I am protected here." Celeste answered with a shrug.

What was that girls name from Ilvermorny? It was on the tip of her tongue.

"Is there anything else that Professor Fig has said? Maybe he has mentioned that as Deputy Headmistress, I am a perfectly safe person to come to about the specific tragic events that plagued you both yesterday." Professor Weasley was beginning to lose precious patience with Celeste. Something Celeste was blissfully unaware of as she kept her eyes trained on the moving siren.

Was it Natalia? No, no. Maybe Amelia? Most definitely not.

"I'm sorry, it seems as though I do not understand what you mean." Celeste countered, unfocused. Professor Weasley tried to find what was so remarkable about the fountain behind her but couldn't put it together for the life of her.

Grace! That's who it was! The girl Zoë always used to get as a potions partner.

"I detect that there may be more to the story of yesterday, I only ask with your best interest at heart. I wouldn't want you to feel as though your well being is not the priority." That snapped Celeste fully into attention, the teacher had finally stopped dancing around what she really wanted to know.

"Professor," Celeste gestured for the teacher to lean in. Professor Weasley did, eagerly looking around to make sure no one was in ear shot. Celeste lowered her voice and expression to a grim whisper. "do you happen to have live dragons hiding in the gardens of this fine castle?" She smiled when she finished, which caused Weasley to step back with a look of disappointment.