The wind’s a cool caress against her cheek and not the cold slap it might have been if the Astronomy tower hadn't been spelt against harsher weathers. Her eyes still sting as she blinks to take in the Hogwarts grounds, embraced in the dying sun's final rays. The lake alone looks like someone misused the Philosopher's Stone to turn it into a puddle of molten gold.
It’s awfully kitschy, of course, but Bathsheda allows herself this moment to enjoy the resplendent view anyway. She's the first to admit that she rarely takes the time to bask in Hogwarts’ glorious scenery, despite spending several days a week in the castle.
'—and then he said, "oh, I'm so sorry Professor, but the Weasley twins used my model of the universe for a round of indoor Quidditch!" The cheek of him! As if he didn't play Keeper himself,' Aurora concludes, taking a big swig of her tea laced with firewhisky, holding her star-spangled pointy hat securely in place with her other hand. Septima tips back her head and laughs heartily as she leans against the balustrade. Bathsheda smiles.
'You can count on the Gryffindors to give the most amusing excuses,' Septima says with a grin, 'and at least half of them are even true.'
'The outrageous half, surely', Bathsheda chimes in, feeling pleased when Aurora cackles appreciatively.
'Alas, how boring our lives would be without the little lions,' she says with a dramatic sigh, wiping a fake tear from her eye. How she manages that without spilling her drink, Bathsheda doesn't know, though she holds the deepest respect for Aurora's balance.
The other witch catches her looking and lifts an inquiring eyebrow. She leans down, asking slyly, 'Sure you haven't changed your mind about the firewhiskey, Bathy?'
For a second, she seriously considers it, but then shakes her head regretfully.
'You know that I haven't figured out how to stabilise the chair yet. The hover charms can withstand the strongest of winds, but begin to wobble horribly after my first sip of alcohol.' She pats the armrest of her chair soothingly as if in apology to her mobility aid.
A familiar look appears on Aurora’s face, the one she always gets just before she says something that would be insulting if it wasn’t so ridiculous. 'Maybe it's because you're such a lightweight!'
Having prepared herself, Bathsheda just rolls her eyes good-naturedly. Septima however lets out a groan and slaps Aurora's arm soundly.
'Oh, shut it, you nuisance. Maybe you should take a leaf out of Bathy's book and stop drinking.' To emphasise her words, she snatches the drink out of their colleague's hand before Aurora can even blink and downs half the cup. Without hesitation, she tips the rest over the railing.
'Oi! That was mine!' Aurora calls out belatedly and stretches out her hand as if to catch the falling liquid.
Bathsheda snorts at their antics and floats closer to the balustrade, looking down.
'You're lucky nobody’s loitering under the tower, or you might have doused some poor sod taking a piss,' she says, surprised at her own words. Usually, she wouldn’t be so crass, though her qualms are quickly squashed by the startled laughs of her fellow staff.
'Spilling people’s drinks is rarely a good idea,' Aurora says, nodding gravely, as she vanishes the emptied cup covered in abstract astronomical drawings with a careless flick of her wand.
Septima huffs and turns, her purple shawl covering her close-cropped hair, dancing in the wind. She makes a sweeping gesture to encompass the grounds. 'Look—the sun’s almost down, so we’ll be back in your office in ten minutes. Then you can get roaring drunk without endangering anyone.'
Inclining her head, Aurora relents and lets her eyes linger on the colourful sky. Bathsheda finds herself captivated by the gold suffusing her colleague's face with a warm glow. Subsequently, she’s the first to see Aurora's full lips stretching into a wolfish grin as she turns around to regard Septima who immediately looks apprehensive.
'Pray tell, how are the kids doing? Little Trinity’s still as boisterous as ever?' she asks, trying and failing to sound innocent.
Bathsheda watches amusedly as Septima dramatically sags against the balustrade, hands covering her face.
'Don't you dare bring up those beasts, let me have one evening free of them!' she moans. 'You may come to my office tomorrow and spend your day ogling their photographs—better yet, you can come to Sunday lunch!' Straightening, she looks first at Aurora, then at Bathsheda. 'Both of you.'
Aurora has the look of a niffler who’s just found a fountain of gold when she gracefully accepts the invitation. The spinning stars and moons on her witch’s hat sparkle in the reddish light as she tips it in Septima's direction by way of thanks.
Bathsheda pretends to ponder the offer and then shakes her head regretfully. 'I'm awfully sorry, but I fear I've got a previous engagement.'
'Oh, what’s it?' Aurora asks, leaning close. 'A hot date?'
'Nothing so exciting. Just my dear brother inviting me to lunch with his family,' she says, not able to suppress her smile as Septima groans loudly.
'You two are absolutely horrible. Don’t tease me like that, Bathy, you know full well I married that oaf.'
Aurora lets out a small delighted cackle at Septima's annoyed expression.
Now that the sun has gone, leaving in its wake only faint traces of orange above the horizon, the temperature is starting to drop. Bathsheda activates the seat heater on her chair, feeling a familiar pride at installing this feature. For good measure, she conjures a wildly patterned quilt to cover her legs. Seeing Aurora eyeing her, she shoots off a quick warming charm in her direction, getting a smile as thanks.
'Enough about family—what do you think the Heads are talking about?' Septima asks, decisively changing the topic.
Bathsheda allows herself a smirk. They've finally got to the reason they are here.
'Minnie's probably accusing Severus of giving his Quidditch team unfair advantages by not disciplining Flint. Again', Aurora says with a laugh, eyes crinkling. 'She’s getting rather predictable in her old age.'
'Good one. Pomona’s definitely going to complain about that afterwards.' Septima stares thoughtfully at the darkening school grounds, fluttering violet fabric framing her face. 'I reckon Flint, on his own, will be a topic of consternation. They still haven't figured out who's writing his assignments, right?'
'Just so,' Aurora agrees, and Bathsheda wages a small internal battle. Should she say something? It’s not her place to reveal this secret. On the other hand, she knows she can trust Septima and Aurora to keep it safe. Septima might want to do something rash, like burst into the annual Heads of House meeting and make a scene, but she’s confident she and Aurora can talk her down before that happens.
'Though I’ve heard that Minnie’s got her knickers in a twist, because she thinks it might be Percy Weasley,' Aurora continues, and Bathsheda can’t contain a snort at that laughable accusation. Her colleagues look at her questioningly and she makes her decision. What’s the point of collecting little secrets and amusing observations about the castle’s inhabitants all year, if she can’t at least share them with her friends?
'Percy? That’s absolutely ridiculous. I can assure you, he’s got nothing to do with Flint’s homework,' she declares. Septima’s hands curl in anticipation where they rest on the railing, and Aurora’s eyes grow comically wide. Bathsheda feels thrilled at the attention.
'Who—?'
'You know something!—'
She stays her rapt audience with a raised hand. Preparing for the kill, she takes a deep breath.
'Rigel Black is doing Flint’s homework,' she pronounces.
Aurora covers her mouth with her hand, letting out a small gasp. As expected, Septima leaps up from her relaxed position, looking ready to fight, but Aurora’s fingers around her upper arm still her movement.
'Explain,' Septima presses out through gritted teeth. 'If that brute’s blackmailing poor Rigel, I’ll have his hide.'
'I know nothing of blackmail,' Bathsheda says honestly, 'I just know that Rigel does Flint’s homework and his own Ancient Runes’ essays benefit greatly from the additional knowledge.'
'How do you know?' Aurora asks, leaning closer, eyes sparkling with interest.
'It’s quite obvious once you know what to look for,' Bathsheda says, feeling just the slightest bit smug. 'All of Flint’s supposed assignments were well written and well researched. However, oftentimes, there would be small gaps in the explanations—like you'd expect from someone new to the subject missing the fundamentals. In the beginning, I assumed it was because the culprit hadn't taken Runes. I reconsidered when Rigel joined my class. He's demonstrated an odd grasp of the subject—it's clear he has knowledge far above his grade level and yet some of the basic principles seem to be news to him. I was puzzled, since as far as I’m aware, no adult close to him had any reason to teach him Runes before Hogwarts.'
She’d been a year above Sirius Black in school and knows that the only one of his friends with an affinity for Runes had been one Peter Pettigrew. Diana had been even more hopeless at the subject than Sirius , Bathsheda thinks as she recalls their shared study sessions. She remembers them fondly, seeing in her mind’s eye Diana’s dimpled smile and her hypnotising hands as she threw them into the air in exasperation when, more often than not, a concept eluded her.
'As far as I’ve heard, Rigel came to Hogwarts with the sole wish to learn potions, correct? He even severely neglected his other studies that first year. Since then, it’s been quite a remarkable change. It’s also rather suspicious that he never sought me out about Runes— unlike most other enthusiasts. Blaise Zabini came knocking on my door in his very first week at Hogwarts, to name just one.'
Aurora nods thoughtfully, but Septima raises questioning eyebrows. She holds flickering flames in the palms of her hands that cast her face in dramatic relief. 'No offence, Bathy, but it’s a rather flimsy argument you’re making so far.'
'I know, I know,' Bathsheda acknowledges the criticism, 'Have some patience, please! It’s been clear to me that Rigel has a baffling knowledge of Runes, but it’s got some rather large, inexplicable holes. If my theory is correct, he’s been doing Flint’s homework since his fifth year—Rigel’s first. So I tested him. During our second week back, I asked Rigel a question about Horvárth’s principle of polarity, which is one of the first things the third years have to learn. However, there’s an extra credit assignment in fourth year about the seven exceptions to Hovárth’s principle. Rigel’s usually very exhaustive in his explanations, but he made no mention of the exceptions. It’s rather suspicious, isn’t it?'
Septima still looks slightly sceptical, but Aurora has a small smile on her lips. 'You didn’t leave it at that, right, Bathy?'
Acknowledging her with a nod, Bathsheda continues, 'At the end of that lesson, I modified the homework assignment slightly so that a thorough student like Rigel Black might want to make a mention of the Japanese runic system and its unique rules about plural. It so happens that this particular piece of information is only mentioned in the last chapter of the sixth years’ textbook.'
Her voice is coloured by mirth, and Aurora’s lips slowly stretch into a predatory grin. Even Septima looks amused now.
'He swallowed the bait, didn’t he?' she asks, the flames in her hands jumping higher.
'Quite right,' Bathsheda says, 'Is that enough for you?'
'I guess you make a good point,' Septima acquiesces, 'But you’re not planning on doing anything more with that information, are you?'
'Why would I? As far as I can see, Rigel’s thriving, his schoolwork’s exceptional and Flint’s leaving at the end of the year anyway. Whatever their deal might be, in my opinion, the positives far outweigh the negatives.'