𝕄𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕

Remus and Sekhmet meandered down Hogwarts’ expansive halls in dead silence. If it weren’t for the fact that the wind could be heard banging against the window panes they probably would have been able to hear one another’s heartbeat. The silence was starting to suffocate Sekhmet, the absence of noise not as comfortable as when she was with Regulus. Sekhmet was tired of the lack of communication and decided to make the first move.

“So Lupin,” she started with a confident air, even though her hesitance regarding the conversation was eating her alive, “What are you thinking about your seventh year so far?”

Sekhmet hated small talk, but she hated silence even more. Her father had always stayed quiet when he was angry, his fury bubbling up until he inevitably released it on her. Silence in the Arafa household meant trouble. It meant that something was wrong and that someone was going to be hurt. Once when Sekhmet was 13 and home from break, Set had given her the silent treatment for a whole 2 days after her return. He hadn’t uttered a single word to her. Not of discontent or praise. Sekhmet had thought it was odd but she had never been his main priority, so she didn’t think too hard on it. That was until he came looking for her on the third day. He walked into the library that she was residing in with an eerie sense of calm. He raised his wand and before she could even ask what he was doing he had silently cast the Torture Curse. Sekhmet had dropped to the ground like a rag doll, screaming for what felt like hours on end. She screamed so loud that it was nearly impossible to hear herself cry, her auditory perception deteriorating every second she was under the curse. When Set was done he lifted the spell and walked out of the room without a word, slamming the door behind him. Sekhmet lay there on the ground for the rest of the night until she had finally gained her strength back. She stumbled to her room, got her healing supplies and began to take the remedies she had prepared. After taking her potions she promptly passed out on her bed. When she came downstairs for breakfast the next morning Set was there, at the head of the table as always. She sat down with her things just as he got up. He came over to her seat, setting down a newspaper article. Sekhmet glanced at the picture, her eyes roaming over the title that read: First Girl of Pureblood Nobility to Try Out for Quidditch Team! She hadn’t decided whether or not she made the team, but she had gotten the message that she was not allowed to from her father after her punishment.

“My seventh year is going rather well so far. How about you? What are your classes like?” Remus spoke, interrupting her rather depressing train of thought.

“Sixth year is going swell. I’m rather eager for Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow, seeing as we get a new teacher every year. It’s always a new experience, that I can attest to” Sekhmet said in response, lightening the tense atmosphere between the two. She had a certain knack for getting people to let their guard down around her, whether that be a good or a bad thing.

“It certainly is. The professor this year is named.. oh what was it? It was on the tip of my tongue-“ Remus mentioned in frustration, his head tilting back a little while he thought.

“Professor Alixtrow Hemlock. He graduated from Durmstrang a few years ago but had connections with Dumbledore through the Ministry of Magic. Hemlock was in Hus Ara at Durmstrang and graduated at the top of his class. From what I’ve heard he came to teach at Hogwarts because Dumbledore said he’d use his sway as Chief Warlock to try and get him a spot in the Wizengamot.” Sekhmet rambled off, speaking of all the public knowledge she held of the man. There was much more information that she had gathered; speculations that the professor had come to Hogwarts to be a spy for Dumbledore against the new rising Dark Lord. Sekhmet did not share this with Remus though. She hardly shared all of her information with everyone, also keeping the hand dealt to her hidden.

Remus looked down at her in shock as they perused the corridors, his voice rising in indignation to say, “Dumbledore would never do such a thing. He is a good wizard. He’d never abuse his power.”

His tone was filled with determination and outrage, his eyes narrowing in what was probably supposed to be an attempt at making Sekhmet ashamed or nervous.

She was neither. Sekhmet continued to walk, her gaze pointed straight ahead. She carried herself with the self-assurance she always did, her confidence not wavering in the face of skepticism. The two continued walking in silence, the tense atmosphere returning. As they turned a corner coming up on the next corridor they heard someone’s footsteps. A tall man with thin silver hair, scrawny arms, a long beard, and all too keen eyes stood before them.

“Headmaster.” Sekhmet regarded him, not quite with respect but not necessarily lacking it either.

“Ms. Arafa. Mr. Lupin.” Dumbledore greeted them each with a nod of his head, his sharp eyes piercing Sekhmet’s very being. He started once more saying, “I trust you two are having a splendid year so far. Mr. Lupin, it being your last year must be ever so invigorating.”

He looked to Remus, his former pleasantry lacking the questioning quality that most everyone else added to it. Dumbledore focused on Sekhmet. She stiffened as he continued talking, “And Ms. Arafa, I had seen you were in some advanced courses this year. You truly do remind me of someone I so had once known so well…”

Sekhmet gave him an odd, questioning look, not completely comprehending what he was talking about. Dumbledore went on his way with a small laugh and goodbye. As he turned the corner to the hall the pair had previously been in, Sekhmet and Remus continued their rounds. They eventually made it back to the doors of the Great Hall; their respective meeting point. As they stopped and faced one another they stood still. After about a minute of awkward staring, they bid each other goodbye in the form of a nod of the head and went their separate ways.