Bound by Secrets

“There you are, squiby!” Boasted a familiar voice, turning heads. Patricia Rakepick swiftly made her way through the students, her icy eyes locked on Nightingale. He had jumped at her shout, his eyes widening fractionally.  

She had made her stop in front of him, her long ginger hair in a side part. As usual, she was wearing her brown long-sleeved shirt and a crimson waistcoat. Though she wasn’t wearing her robes, Nightingale regarded her calmly, tilting his head. “Do you need something?” Nightingale hadn’t been here for very long, so he didn’t have a firm opinion on her yet. Though she was funny.

“You’re an assistant, right? Good, I need your help with something,” she asked. Nightingale frowned but nodded. “Yes, but for teaching,” she said, waved a dismissive hand, and started walking, as if expecting him to follow. “Yes, yes, I can’t forget you’re a substitute,” she surmised. Wilber let out an undignified squawk, quickly catching up to her. “Hey! not substitute, teacher's assistant. It was the only position they would give me.” He asserted, his voice rising in pitch. “And assistants assist,” Rakepick replied, a smug smile twisting her face. 

He just stared at her, his lips parted and his eyes wide. He let out a breath, slowing his steps. He felt irritated that she had gotten under his skin so quickly. Well, 15 years of teaching experience to end up as an assistant would make anyone insecure. Though this was the first time he worked at a magic school, he couldn’t be too angry. He felt his cheeks redden, his throat getting warm despite how cold the corridors were. 

he rose a hand to straighten the beige scarf around his neck, he said, "Even so, I don't think Snape would be too pleased with me wandering off." After getting yelled at he didn’t want to be on the man’s bad side. And it was easy to get lost, he doubted the paintings would tell him anything. 

"Stop being such a goody-goody!" She raised her hands in a sarcastic manner. With her arm swinging, Nightingale leaned to the right. "And get sacked?  No, thank you." He gave a forceful reply, moving aside to keep out of her way in case she felt like throwing hands once more. Patrica rolled her eyes, opening her mouth to speak again. “Snape doesn’t want you around anyway, it’s best you start hanging out with me.” 

His frown deepened, frustration growing inside his chest. His fingers curled weakly, though he remained silent. All he needed to do was assist her and hurry back to the dungeons as soon as possible. Nightingale could easily understand why Snape was so angry with him. Hell, he would be frustrated if his old school hired an assistant for him out of nowhere. Let alone an assistant that couldn’t perform the basic task. Exhaling a calming breath he tilted forward slightly to look at her. 

“Well what do you need help with anyway?” He asked, attempting to be polite. “You brought me up here, so I should have some details.” 

Patricia came to a sudden stop, her heel squealing. She pushed past Nightingale and unlocked a broom closet that he had missed. She took a step in and grabbed a vial with thick pink liquid swirling inside. "I just need you to store something for me; I'm sure even a squib could handle that." Nightingale ignored her remark, preferring to focus on the collection of glasses of potions on the shelf. 

Wilber's brows pinched as he pulled back. "Hey, what's that?" He asked, Having already guessed what it was. "That's not supposed to be at school," he added, growing uneasy. Rolling her eyes, Rakepick pressed the vial into his scared palm. "Calm down, I took it  from a student. Since I didn't intend to use it, I'm giving it to you.” Rakepick pushed the closet closed again, before turning back to Nightingale. “I think I can trust you not to tell Snape.” With that cryptic message Patrica let out a hum and sauntered off, seeming quite pleased with herself. 

Nightingale watched her leave with a confused expression. What the hell was that about? Reluctantly his eyes lowered back to the potion laid in his palm. He would probably give it to Snape when he found him, or throw it off the Astronomy tower. Either option sounded equal, though the walk would be long… better hand it to Snape. He dropped his hand to put the vial in his pocket. 

“What’s that?” 

Wilber let out a startled yelp. “Wh—where did you come from?!” He exclaimed, stumbling over his words. His hand was on his chest, feeling his own heartbeat. 

Snape merely cocked an eyebrow. Nightingale cleared his throat, reaching into his pocket. “Rakepick wanted me to take something,” he said respectfully, holding out his hand for Snape. 

The younger man’s lip curled in distaste, from the scars or the potion, of which he wasn’t sure. “I figured you wouldn’t want me having it,” Nightingale said calmly, gesturing for him to take it. Severus grabbed it quickly before it dropped. 

“Wise choice,” he drawled dramatically, bringing the potion to his eye to observe. “Hm, where did you find this?” He asked, more like demanded. 

“Rakepick said she confiscated it from a student,” Nightingale recounted, tilting his head slightly. He watched as Snape’s brows furrowed, as if he didn’t believe what he had just heard. Though what he had said surprised Nightingale,. 

“Carry on; I’ll hand this over from here. Though I would check on your owl, I can hear her from my office.” 

“Owlette?!” Nightingale gasped, eyes widening in panic. “Oh dear,” he quickly stepped away to rush back where he assumed the dungeons were. Anything could have happened, with how unorganized his chambers have been with him still unpacking. What if she had gotten hurt?! Right now all he had to do was make it on time.