Gunhilda of Gorsemoor
Chapter 10: Gunhilda of Gorsemoor
Bewildered, the Slytherins scrambled out of their beds and hurried to the Great Hall where they joined the students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and eventually Gryffindor. Panicked and disoriented whispers echoed through the hall creating a rather loud din.
Dumbledore cast a sonorous charm for his announcement. “The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall. “I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the Head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately,” he added to the Weasley Head Boy, who looked immensely proud and self-important. “Send word with one of the ghosts.”
The Headmaster paused as though remembering something as he was about to leave the hall, and said, “Oh, yes, you’ll be needing...”
With a casual wave of his wand and the long House tables drifted to the ends of the hall and stood themselves against the walls. With another wave, the floor was clad with hundreds of squashy violet sleeping bags.
“Sleep well,” Professor Dumbledore said, distracted, and shut the door behind him.
The Great Hall immediately began to vibrate with the excitement flowing from the students. A few loud-mouthed Gryffindors were telling the rest of the school what had just happened. Theo had cornered Longbottom and chatted him up to discover that Sirius Black had attacked the portrait guarding Gryffindor tower.
“Everyone into their sleeping bags!” shouted the obnoxious Head Boy. “Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!”
“How d’you think he got in?” Theo whispered conspiratorially.
“Maybe he Apparated?” Greg offered.
“I bet he flew in by broomstick,” Pansy shrugged.
“Well, you can’t Apparate on Hogwarts grounds, so that’s out,” Draco retorted.
“And the dementors surely would’ve caught him if he flew in,” Blaise said matter-of-factly.
“Polyjuice?” Draco wondered out loud.
“Where would he have gotten the ingredients and supplies to make it?” Blaise answered in turn.
“Maybe he nicked it?” Theo shrugged.
“Possibly…” Draco whispered. He unconsciously looked for Granger in the filled hall. She had cozied up with Potter and his corresponding Weasley in a corner behind the rest of the Gryffindors and some older Hufflepuffs.
“The lights are going out now!” Percy Weasley shouted. “I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking!”
The candles all went out at once. The only light now came from the silvery ghosts, who were drifting about talking seriously to the Prefects, and the enchanted ceiling, which, like the sky outside, was scattered with sparkling stars. Much to the older Weasley’s chagrin, the whispering continued uncontrollably.
Draco turned back to his little group—they had turned the heads of their sleeping bags inward to form a wonky circle. Blaise, Draco, Theo, and Pansy were turned inward, while Greg and Millie were stretched out horizontally next to them, bridging the gap between their group and the rest of the girls and Vince.
“I’m gonna go looking for him,” Draco whispered quietly enough so that Greg wouldn’t overhear. He hadn’t told anyone else about the time turner and wanted to keep it that way, for now at least.
“How will you sneak out? A teacher’s supposed to come check in every hour and sorry, but you’re kind of noticeable with that hair,” Pansy smirked as she playfully raked her fingers through it.
Draco instinctually pulled back out of her reach, quickly dangling the pocket watch in front of them before snatching it back up into his palm. “I’m gonna zip all the way into my sleeping bag, and you guys cover for me if need be. Ideally it’ll be like I never left,” he crossed his fingers in a wish for good luck in finding his outlaw of a cousin. Before any of them could object, his blonde head of hair slipped completely into his sleeping bag and Draco pulled the zipper closed behind him. He took the pocket watch out and flipped the hourglass three times, hoping for just a few hours, and not another unplanned journey through time.
When Draco felt the whirling stop, he opened his eyes to find himself nearly alone in the Great Hall, before the feast was set to be served. Professor Flitwick was at the other end, with his back turned to Draco, unaware of his presence as he set up some of the enchanting decorations for the feast. He was able to easily slip out one of the large oak doors without being seen as most of the school was still at Hogsmede.
He sprinted up the marble staircase, stopping only when he reached the seventh floor. He had to duck twice as Peeves threw globs of pumpkin guts overhead, but when he realized the boy was a Slytherin, the poltergeist groveled, pleading to avoid retribution from the Bloody Baron. Draco waved the trickster off with a stern gaze. When Peeves was out of sight, he set about looking for the entrance to Gryffindor tower.
From what Longbottom had let slip in the Hall, the entrance was hidden by a large painting. While there were many lining the halls of that floor, one stood out as obviously big enough for a person to get through—a gold gilded frame encompassing an oil painting of a heavyset, middle aged woman. She wore a pink silk dress and a pale complexion, interrupted by an apparently permanent sneer.
Draco stood guard in a nearby alcove, hoping to get a glimpse of whatever form Sirius might take. He Disillusioned himself for good measure, and tried to stay patient. Students trickled up the stairs and past Draco’s hiding spot as they returned from Hogsmede and went to change clothes and drop off their purchases in their dormitories. Eventually, he caught sight of Granger and Weasley, all pink-faced and cheery, carrying a large Honeydukes bag filled with sweets.
The Gryffindors clambered back out of their portrait hole not long after, and per usual were complaining about Snape, although it made no sense to Draco this time around.
“But if he — you know —” Granger dropped her voice, glancing nervously around, “if he was trying to — to poison Lupin — he wouldn’t have done it in front of Harry.”
Draco rolled his eyes. The man may be a little unfair sometimes, and clearly dislikes Lupin for whatever reason, but the boy highly doubted Snape would attempt to commit murder under the Headmaster’s nose. Especially with all those dementors hanging around just waiting to take someone to Azkaban…or worse.
The trio descended down the stairs, heading for the feast, and the few remaining Gryffindors trickled out of their tower. Draco renewed his fading Disillusionment charm and held his breath as he waited impatiently.
He heard the tapping—scratching—of claws? on the stone floor. They were growing closer, louder, and he could hear a panting breath. As the creature turned the corner, he saw a large, black grim. Its eyes were darker than night and wore a menacing gleam. Its fur was matted in places and its overall appearance was ominous. The towering canine had a single-track focus on the painting, but paused as it picked up Draco’s scent.
The wolf-like dog’s head whipped to where Draco cowered, invisible to the average wizard as long as he stood completely still. However, the charm did nothing to mask his scent, and the animal knew exactly where he was hiding. Draco cautiously cancelled the charm with a Finite . Now visible, the canine bristled at the intruder, approaching slowly, baring its teeth with a low, guttural growl.
Draco held his hands up in front of him in a show of surrender, and the dog paused its movement to cock its head to the side.
“Sirius?” Draco whispered, hoping there was enough of the man left to recognize his mother’s eyes and the blonde hair as family. “I’m Draco, Narcissa’s son,” he attempted to remain calm, though he could feel the panting breaths against his face now.
The dog sat back on its haunches, appraising the boy before elongating and stretching as fur sunk back into skin and its snout flattened into a human nose and mouth. Draco sucked in a sharp breath. Whatever he had been expecting, this was not it. The man before him wore pale, sallow skin stretched taut over his angular Black features. His eyes were sunken in, cratered by purple rings encircling them. His hair, much like his shaggy Animagus, was matted and black, long and scruffy. The gaunt man was covered in tattoos, his Azkaban prisoner identification runes standing out starkly against his neck, while the others had faded a bit more with time.
“How is sweet Cissa?” Sirius asked, his full, sunken eyes brightening at the mention of her.
“Mother is well, she’s hoping to help you, that’s why she sent me,” Draco answered, trying to keep his voice even so as not to portray the excitement and tinge of fear pulsing through him.
“Help?” The man barked a raspy laugh. “And what, pray tell, could Cissa help me with?”
“She knows you’re innocent,” Draco said quietly, a little surprised the man before him would find himself in a position to refuse any kind of help offered.
“Ahh, that business, well you see I’m about to take care of that myself, thanks,” the scraggly man stood tall and turned his back on Draco before marching up to the Fat Lady. “Open up,” he growled.
“Password?” She asked in a formal tone, having been offended by not only the man’s appearance but his arrogant tone as well.
“I’m a Gryffindor, open up,” he snarled a bit louder.
“No password, no entrance,” she replied haughtily.
Sirius began to shake with pent up rage. “Open. The. Door.”
“No!” The woman stood from her painted perch and firmly stuck her hands to her hips in defiance.
“I’ll rip you to shreds! There’s a murderer in this castle, you know!” He shouted before losing control and shifting back into his Animagus form.
The Fat Lady shrieked and scrambled out of her portrait just as the black dog launched off his hind legs to claw down the painting. It quickly devolved into a frenzy as the canine shredded the painting. It was lucky the Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed so viciously that strips of canvas littered the floor. By the time the dog had calmed enough to stumble back, great chunks of it had been torn away completely.
“Sirius—“ Draco began softly, hoping to not enrage the man further, “you need to go. The feast is almost over and Peeves was just below when I came up here, I’m certain he heard everything.”
The dog just stared at Draco with blank, black eyes.
“Please? I promised mother I would help you, so let me help you!” Draco fumed. Why is it so difficult to help him?! “Stay close to the castle, or at least Hogsmede, and I’ll find you, okay?”
Sirius continued to stare for a moment longer before grunting and turning back down the hall. Draco watched as he dipped behind a tapestry, disappearing. Curious, Draco followed and found a hidden staircase that led down to the third floor. Passing the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Draco followed behind Sirius’s dog-form. Stopping in front of a statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor—a one-eyed, humpback witch, Sirius transformed back into his human self and spoke, “ Dissendium ”. The witch’s humpback opened up and Sirius moved into the secret tunnel. Shocked at the new knowledge, he hurried back to the main stairs to get in place to travel back. He was nearly out of time as he could hear the students beginning to leave the Great Hall.
It didn’t take long for the chaos to ensue once the Gryffindors reached their tower, seeing the shredded canvas littering the floor. Draco could hear the announcements from each of the Heads of House ushering their students back to the Great Hall. Draco Disillusioned himself once more and tucked into the corner he knew was closest to where he and the other Slytherins would be gathering. When his past self dangled the pocket watch in front of them, Draco crept over to his sleeping bag and squatted down, waiting to take the place of his former self, now zipped tightly into the purple sack. When the sleeping bag deflated, Draco unzipped it and climbed inside, cancelling the charm once more with a Finite .
“Wait, what?” Theo asked in confusion, pointing to Draco now climbing back into the sleeping bag he had just zipped himself into.
“Well I couldn’t reappear until past-me was gone otherwise I’d think I’d gone barmy wouldn’t I?” Draco chuckled.
Theo nodded with uncertainty, but Pansy couldn’t wait another minute to hear his tale. “So did you find him?” She asked excitedly.
“I did,” Draco smirked. “His animagus form is that black dog Greg and Vince saw wandering around Hogsmede.”
“Did you talk to him? What’d he say?” Blaise questioned intently.
“He didn’t really seem to want my help, but he’s definitely still fond of my mum, so that’s something I s’pose,” Draco answered groggily. “Told him I’d find him later if he stayed near the castle—oh! He showed me a new secret passage!” Draco whispered excitedly. “We’ll have to check it out tomorrow.”
The other nodded earnestly, thrilled by the prospect of a new, non-dangerous adventure. Once every hour, a teacher would reappear in the Hall to check that everything was quiet. When it was nearly three in the morning, and many students had finally fallen asleep, Professor Dumbledore came in. Draco had drifted in and out of sleep, waking when the large doors would creak open each hour to listen for any new of Sirius.
The Headmaster was looking around for the pompous Head Boy, who had been prowling between the sleeping bags, telling people off for talking. Percy was only a short way away from Granger and her gang of losers, who were clearly still awake, just pretending to be asleep as Dumbledore’s footsteps drew nearer to them.
“Any sign of him, Professor?” asked Percy in a whisper that was nearly too loud to be classified as such.
“No. All well here?”
“Everything under control, sir.”
“Good. There’s no point moving them all now. I’ve found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You’ll be able to move them back in tomorrow.”
“And the Fat Lady, sir?”
“Hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor. Apparently she refused to let Black in without the password, so he attacked. She’s still very distressed, but once she’s calmed down, I’ll have Mr. Filch restore her.”
The doors of the hall creaked open again, and Draco spied Snape gliding across the cold, stone floors.
“Headmaster?” Snape interrupted. “The whole of the third floor has been searched. He’s not there. And Filch has done the dungeons; nothing there either.”
“What about the Astronomy tower? Professor Trelawney’s room? The Owlery?”
“All searched...” Snape answered disappointed.
“Very well, Severus. I didn’t really expect Black to linger.”
“Have you any theory as to how he got in, Professor?” asked Snape in an accusatory voice.
“Many, Severus, each of them as unlikely as the next,” was the Headmaster’s only reply.
Dumbledore faced where Draco lay, and he could see the man scanning the room for any students still awake with listening ears. Snape’s profile was visibly angry and continued to bristle towards the Headmaster.
“You remember the conversation we had, Headmaster, just before — ah — the start of term?” said Snape, who was barely opening his lips, as though trying to prevent anyone from reading his lips, not that it was difficult to overhear in the near silent room where sound bounced around so easily.
“I do, Severus,” said Dumbledore, and there was something like a warning in his voice.
“It seems — almost impossible — that Black could have entered the school without inside help. I did express my concerns when you appointed —” he was cut off mid accusation, but Draco knew he was about to say Lupin’s name.
“I do not believe a single person inside this castle would have helped Black enter it,” said Dumbledore, and his tone made it so clear that the subject was closed that Snape didn’t reply. “I must go down to the Dementors,” said Dumbledore. “I said I would inform them when our search was complete.”
Draco shivered in his sleeping bag at the thought of having to conduct business with one dementor, let alone a whole group of them—alone.
“Didn’t they want to help, sir?” said the older Weasley, eager to be included in any important matter.
“Oh yes,” said Dumbledore coldly. “But I’m afraid no Dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am Headmaster.”
The Head Boy was facing away from Draco, but he could see his posture tense up at the words. Dumbledore swiftly left the hall, walking quickly and quietly. Snape stood for a moment, watching the elder wizard with an expression of deep resentment on his face before he too left.
…
The school talked of nothing but Sirius Black for the next few days. The theories about how he had entered the castle became wilder and wilder. Hannah Abbott, from Hufflepuff, spent much of their next Ancient Runes class telling anyone who’d listen that Sirius could turn into a flowering shrub. This, apparently, was a repeat for many of the other students who groaned as she began talking about it again.
Draco heard whispers in the Great Hall that week that the Fat Lady’s shredded canvas had been taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan and his fat gray pony. Nobody at the Gryffindor table seemed very happy about this as, from what Draco could gather, Sir Cadogan spent half his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculously complicated passwords, which he changed at least twice a day.
“He’s a complete lunatic,” said Seamus Finnigan angrily to Percy. “Can’t we get anyone else?”
Draco chuckled to himself at the truly pained expressions on many of the Gryffindors’ faces. Exasperation was unbecoming on them and he relished in their misfortune. Well, that is until he remembered he was supposed to track down a certain escaped Gryffindor. He pondered, lifting his forkful of crepes to his mouth, how he would be able to track the newfound animagus considering the violent weather changes. Rain pounded the windows at steady intervals each day, the grounds soggy and bog-like. He supposed he could try practicing a few locator spells, they were mostly more advanced, but it may be faster than simply wandering the grounds while hoping to surreptitiously catch onto Sirius’s trail.
Something brushed Draco’s ankle and he absentmindedly rubbed the spot with his other shoe. Now, back to plotting—I’ll need to see what the library has on locating humans and animals, maybe there would be a cross-reference to animagi, but that would mostly be wishful thinking— The scratchy thing brushed his ankles again, settling on top of his feet. Draco ducked his head to the side to investigate, finding an orange, bristly cat with a squished face lying lazily on his recently polished shoes.
He started to move but the cat sunk its claws into his left ankle, startling a yelp from him. “What do you want, you ghastly thing?” Draco growled.
The cat glanced up at him and rubbed its head against his ankles expectantly.
“Food? You want food?” He offered, attracting Theo’s attention.
“Well of course I want food, Draco, how considerate of you,” he reached over to grab Draco’s plate but was promptly swatted away by its owner.
“Not you, Nott, the cat,” he sighed in annoyance.
“And here I was thinking my best mate actually cared for my nutritional needs. How wrong was I?” Theo teased with mirth.
“The thing won’t leave me alone, I’m serious! Pass me some of that bacon,” Draco grabbed at the plate, offering the cat a piece to which he promptly began to trot away with, stopping a few feet away and staring at the Slytherin boys uncomfortably.
“Why’s it just staring?” Theo asked warily. “It’s not even eating the bacon—“
The cat came back, temporarily dropping the bacon to nip at Draco’s ankles again. When he offered more bacon, the cat mewled and began to walk away, looking back at the boys every few steps.
“I think it wants us to follow it,” Draco said curiously.
“ Us? Oh, no, Draco. I don’t think it wants us to follow it. It wants you to follow it,” Theo smirked, knowing Draco wasn’t the fondest of felines to begin with.
“You’re coming with me, now shut up and let’s go,” Draco snapped.
“Well fine, but I’m bringing my plate—I’m starving! Not that you care about my nutritional needs as you so clearly pointed out,” Theo accused in a pouting tone as he piled his plate high with crepes, bacon, sausages, and raspberries.
Draco sighed in exhaustion, trying to hurry Theo along, which as he should’ve known, only slowed them down further. The cat waited for them patiently, and when they had exited the Great Hall, it led them to the statue of the one-eyed witch.
“Well, no time like the present to see where it goes!” Theo waggled his eyebrows. Draco shook his head in response, but opened the passage the way he had seen Sirius do the few nights previously. None of them had yet had a chance to slip away to see what was at the other end of the secret passage, and Draco was now equally thrumming with excitement and nervously twitching as they edged their way behind the statue.
Lumos. Both wands lit nearly simultaneously once the passage closed up behind them. Draco suddenly slipped down some sort of slide, Theo tumbling directly after him. The two boys landed with a hard thud on top of one another. The tunnel was dark and seemed to go on for miles. They instantly lost sight of the cat that had been leading them. The two boys walked quickly at first, but with no end in sight, they slowed to a more leisurely pace, careful not to trip on any wayward stones or clumps of dirt along the way. After what felt like ages, but could only have been about an hour, they could finally see a crack of light on the ground ahead and they both took off in a run.
The passage rose beneath their feet which had become rather cold from the trek. They were both breathing a bit heavier at the steep climb, but Theo’s head hit something hard with a muffled thunk. They raised their lit wands overhead to find a wooden trap door where the sliver of light had fallen through the slats in the wood.
They paused to listen for a moment, not knowing where they had ended up and if it was safe to push the trapdoor open. When they heard nothing, Theo shoved the door open with a grunt with one hand, the other still holding his forgotten plate of breakfast. The trap door slapped against its hinges, causing both boys to wince hoping no one heard them.
“You could stand to be a little more subtle, mate,” Draco rolled his eyes at Theo’s theatrics, but followed him up into a cellar filled with wooden crates. The floor was covered in a layer of dust and there was a slight mildew odor that settled around the room. Draco closed the trapdoor behind him, noticing it was nearly impossible to see where it was as it blended in with the wooden floor nearly seamlessly. The two boys took a moment to take in their surroundings and make note of the trapdoor’s placement in case they needed to make a quick getaway.
They crept towards a wooden staircase at the end of the cellar and climbed them slowly so as not to alert anyone to their presence if the stairs creaked. When all was still quiet, they pushed open the door at the top of the steps to find themselves in Honeydukes, the sweet shop in Hogsmede.
“No way!” Theo whispered in awe as he finally took a piece of bacon from his plate to nibble on.
“Oh this is too good,” Draco said with a wry smile as he imagined all the sweets they could sneak for the infamous Pansy Parkinson Slytherin parties.
“D’you think we could sneak some Droobles without anyone noticing? Ooh! And Pansy loves those sugar quills—“
“Theo, that’s not why we’re here. But yes, we can absolutely get something on the way back…but we should probably leave some money by the till, right?” He really didn’t feel comfortable stealing, especially with the exorbitant amount of galleons he was permitted access to.
“Riigghht,” Theo replied in a drawn out way, leading Draco to believe his short-sighted friend had previously had no intention of paying for whatever they took.
“I’ll cover whatever it is,” Draco sighed, “c’mon we gotta find Sirius.”
The two boys snuck out of the shop where they spotted the familiar orange cat waiting for them just outside of Honeydukes. It led them down alleyways and side streets, keeping out of sight until they were beyond the edge of the village. Draco and Theo followed the cat up a sloping, muddy hill that faded into a rocky embankment, and eventually found themselves at the entrance to a smaller cave.
The cat trotted through the opening, and both boys ducked in behind it. They felt the air warm slightly as they followed deeper into the cave, and the howls of the winds died out. A large, black, shaggy dog padded slowly toward them.
“Sirius?” Draco asked, unsure.
The dog bowed its head in confirmation, and approached Theo determinedly.
“Uh, Draco, what’s he doing?”
Draco chuckled, “well, considering he probably hasn’t eaten much, I would care to guess he wants the plate of food you’re still carting around.”
The dog jumped up onto its hind legs and snatched one of the sausages off the plate, nearly swallowing it whole then whining with sad, puppy dog eyes.
“Oh fine,” Theo grumbled, setting the plate down on the ground in front of Sirius.
The dog finished off the entire plate of food in seconds before settling back onto the ground, where the cat nuzzled up against him.
“Y’know it’d be much easier to have a conversation if you were human,” Draco drawled as he inspected his nails, feigning indifference.
A low growl emanated from the canine’s throat, but Sirius obliged his young cousin.
“Better?” The man’s hoarse voice whispered in irritation.
Draco nodded with a smirk.
“If you don’t mind, let’s make this visit a bit short, eh? It’s freezing in here without proper robes, you see—“
“Mippy!” Draco called, hoping the elf would be able to answer his call from so far away.
POP! The House Elf appeared instantaneously, and Sirius smirked his approval.
“Master Draco is calling for Mippy?” The elf asked happily.
“Yes, Mippy, could you please fetch some blankets and clo—“ Draco began to ask before Sirius cut in.
“Just the blankets,” the man said gruffly.
Draco eyed the man with confusion but shrugged, “just the blankets then, Mippy.”
“Oh, yes, Master Draco!” The elf popped away, returning only a few seconds later. “Nice warm blankets! Is there being anything else?” She asked sweetly.
Draco turned to Sirius who just shook his head.
“No, that’ll be all, Mippy. Thank you,” Draco dismissed her. The elf popped away with a smile and a bow.
“You can call Mippy anytime you like, she’s a Black family elf, you know,” Draco offered and Sirius grunted as he wrapped one of the thick woolen blankets around himself.
“No thanks, been getting along just fine without it,” the man grumbled.
“Yeah, because you aren’t clearly starving,” Theo rolled his eyes as he quipped.
Sirius glared at the tall brunette boy, scrutinizing him. He sniffed the air and cocked his head to the side. “Who are you?”
“Oh right, Sirius, meet Theo Nott,” Draco introduced.
“Nott—the Death Eater?” What exactly is this, cousin?” Sirius squinted between the two teenagers before him, and Draco suddenly understood his hesitation to refuse his help.
“His father was a Death Eater, yes, as was mine if you recall,” Draco snapped, “but that is not who we are.”
“If you say so,” the man sniped with distrust.
“Really, my father and I are nothing alike aside from our names,” Theo said angrily. “I’d prefer if you didn’t compare me to that atrocity .”
This piqued Sirius’s interest. “What did he do to you boy?”
“Plenty. And it’s more like what he did to my mother, not that that’s any of your business,” Theo sniffed dismissively.
Sirius nodded in clear understanding. “And what about you?” He gestured to Draco who sighed at being accused of being something he’s not for the millionth time.
“I’m more like mother than I’ve ever been like father, it’s just unfortunate they both have the same shade of hair so no one can tell,” he said regretfully.
Sirius considered his statement before shrugging. “I still don’t need any help from either of you. Give Cissa my best though.”
“Can you teach us how to become animagi? Oww!” Theo blurted out and Draco elbowed him in the ribs hard. “What was that for?!”
Sirius laughed darkly, his coarse voice crackling in and out. “So, you do want something, then?”
Draco groaned, “no. Theo just doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”
“Actually, I do,” he pushed Draco to the side, stepping closer to where Sirius sat huddled under the mound of blankets. “He doesn’t seem to want any help from us, but he certainly has something to offer,” the brunette shrugged, continuing, “so what about a deal?”
“A deal?” Sirius’s brow shot up in intrigue and concern. He would tread carefully, but was definitely enjoying where this was heading.
“We keep bringing you food, and in turn, you help us with becoming anamagi,” Theo proposed, glancing at Draco for confirmation he would do it too. The blonde cocked an eyebrow as well, but Theo took that as an affirmative and tipped his chin in finality.
Sirius looked the two over, considering the offer. “How old are you?”
“Third years,” Theo answered.
Sirius barked a loud laugh that echoed around them and out of the cave. “ Third years? ! Not bloody likely! You’ll both end up dead in the process or give up long before then!”
“No. We won’t.” Draco narrowed his eyes at the man.
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Sirius shrugged and turned away from them.
“Sooo Saturday then?” Theo grinned widely.
“What is today?” Sirius asked without turning around.
“Tuesday,” Draco answered.
“Saturday’s fine, but send the cat back tomorrow with more food…please,” he grumbled the last word as an afterthought “You may as well ask Minnie for the book on becoming an animagus from the Restricted Section and read up before then too,” the man sighed with resignation.
“It’s not our—“ Draco started to scoff but Theo cut in.
“Minnie?!” Theo’s grin broke out into a face-filling smile, “as in Minerva McGonagall?”
”The one and only,” Sirius smirked.
“Yes, yes, no problem, see you later!” Theo said cheerily and dragged Draco toward the entrance of the cave.
“Theo, it’s not our cat! We don’t even know who’s it is!” Draco whisper-shouted.
“Well, we can just follow it back to its owner then, can’t we?” Theo said mockingly. “Also we need to see Minnie about a book.”
“Fine. But for the record I think this whole thing is stupid. And what’s with the animagus training stuff? I already have plenty on my plate between extra classes, Quidditch, and Occlumency lessons with Snape!” Draco whined as he ticked off the list of overlapping things he had to do nearly every day.
“Well I never said you had to do it too—“
“And pass up an opportunity to become an animagus? Are you mad?” Draco shoved him in the shoulder and Theo stumbled a bit over some small rocks on the path.
“Alright, alright, so I railroaded ya a bit, you’ll be fine! I’ve already looked through that lesson since we’re covering it in McGonagall’s class this year and it honestly doesn’t seem that labor intensive,” Theo winked.
“Yeah ohh-kaay ,” Draco said facetiously.
The Slytherins carefully descended the bluff, making their way back into Hogsmede and sneaking back to the cellar of Honeydukes. Slipping beneath the cover of the trapdoor, the two boys trekked wearily toward the castle.