Chapter 19
"Perhaps you're right," Frey agreed thoughtfully. "After all, someone as perfect as I am is bound breed envy."
"Or," I countered, rolling my eyes, "they got tired of your narcissistic attitude. Why did I think you would take an attempt on your life seriously? We need to tell someone- a professor!"
I leapt up, nearly dislocating my arm when I didn't realise Frey had maintained a solid grip around it, yanking me back down beside him.
"Hold that thought, love. Let's keep this to ourselves for now."
I blinked, nursing my shoulder. "Why? What if they try to poison you again?"
"Don't fret about that." He waved a hand, brushing the thought aside. "I'll make sure you are always there to taste test for me."
I threw all my weight into his side, knocking him over on the unkempt grass. "Would you be serious!"
"When have you ever known me to be anything less than serious?" he asked with doe eyes. They didn't last. Before long, he broke into that classic Cheshire smile. "Really, don't worry your pretty little head."
"I don't think you've ever worried once in your whole life," I sighed blandly.
"We have a much higher chance of finding this person if they think they've gotten away with it, their true motives undetected. Let's just let it lie for now, keeping a look out, of course, and focus on the second task. If someone does want me- or you- dead, they have their best opportunity during the tournament."
"That's what I'm afraid of."
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I had no clue where Frey got his confidence from. It's not like we could drop out of the tournament or anything, but if it were me I'd much rather live to see the end of it than risk my life on the off chance my attempted murderer got away.
If he got himself killed, I wouldn't feel guilty, not in the slightest. It would be a lie to say I wasn't at all relieved that no one actively made any attempt on my life. Things were looking up.
Well, they were if you overlooked the fact that the second task was rapidly approaching and I had barely even glanced at the clue. The mere thought of the cockatrice sent me into a cold sweat, so I locked the egg in my trunk and refused to give it a second glance. I wondered how good my odds of getting through the trial would be if I just... didn't? There were a million and ten things I'd rather do than sit in some dark room fiddling with a golden egg on a chain, impatiently waiting for inspiration that probably would never come.
Hard pass.
Then again, I was rather fond of having a neck attached to my shoulders.
I sighed and began working my way back to the Ravenclaw Common Room to do the responsible thing with my weekend, completely forgetting I was a hospital wing escapee until I stepped out of the girls' dormitory, clue in hand, and ran into one of the many people who might endanger that newfound freedom.
Taking one glance at his ginger locks, I began scrambling back up the stairs as fast as my legs could carry me.
"I've already seen you," Abiel said, exasperated. "Just come back down, would you?"
"I'm sure the girl you saw was a figment of your imagination— a hallucination, if you will," I called down, not taking a chance. "You should probably get your delusions addressed by a healer."
"Alice." He glared up at me, hands fastened on his hips, from the foot of the stairs. "Would you stop being so childish? This is serious. They've sent half the prefects and teachers out looking for you. They think you've been abducted and murdered!"
I rolled my eyes. "Please, I wouldn't get abducted. It's far less effort just to murder me on the spot."
"I'm glad you find this so funny," he said in a way that implied he wasn't very glad at all. "But people are worried about you."
"Well, I'm worried about me, too, if that makes you feel better. I worry about me constantly."
Abiel looked to the heavens for guidance. "You can't run from the powers that be forever. There's only so many places you can hide, plus they're only after you for your own safety."
I shrugged, unperturbed. "Maybe. I like to think of it as training."
Abiel seemed almost too afraid to ask. "Training?"
I nodded. "If I can outrun the oppressive forces within this castle that wish to keep me chained to the hospital wing, I imagine I can outrun whatever awful thing they dream up for the second task."
"First of all, they aren't 'oppressive,' they're our professors—"
"Same thing really."
"Secondly, have you even started to study for the second task?"
His hands fell accusingly back to his hips. He knew damn well I hadn't prepared, as someone who'd witnessed my procrastinatory tendencies first hand for the past six years, but wanted to hear me admit to my crimes with my own mouth out of some sick power play.
I could still turn this to my advantage.
"Let the record show that, although I disagree with the fact that I have more homework than the rest of Hogwarts on principle, I was just about to use my hard won freedom to start deciphering the clue."
I held up the egg by it's chain demonstratively, proof of my claim. Too late I noticed his expression and realized I made a huge mistake.
"You mean to tell me... you haven't even started deciphering it?"
I winced. That was certainly a miscalculation. "Did I say that?"
"Unbelievable." Abiel set about pacing holes through the carpet, shooting me annoyed glances whenever it suited him. "Wait here."
His footsteps thudded rhythmically as he darted up the stairs into his own dormitory. Foolish as it was, it didn't occur to me that I could just leave. Disobey. Whatever you'd call it. By the time it at last did trickle into my consciousness that listening to orders went again every last fiber of my being, he'd returned with four books weighing down his arms and at least half a dozen trailing daintily in the air behind him.
"Oh no," I began, waving my hands in furious rebuke. "Oh no, no, no, no, no! I will not be reduced to studying with you ever again. I learned my lesson years ago."
Abiel dropped them onto a table before the unlit hearth with a resounding thud that far exceeded their estimate weight. He muttered, more to himself than me, "I don't think you've even turned in a single sheet of homework in the last five years."
"Not if I could avoid it."
"Well, that changes now." He sat, businesslike, on one of the plush armchairs and cracked open one of the thicker books. "First things first, I've made a list of all the past clues and how they related to the task at hand right... er...." he shuffled through a separate stack of papers shoved into a book for safe keeping, "here. Right here."
I sighed, sitting down across from him and accepted the offered parchment. Running down the centuries long list, I couldn't help but be impressed by his thoroughness. His attention to detail was far beyond my own determination.
"You've been looking into this?" I asked, waving the paper.
He shot me a resentful look over the pile of books separating us. "Obviously. Someone had to, since we all know you're allergic to hard work."
Harsh.
"Why?" I couldn't wrap my mind around it.
"Because, left to your own devices, you are going to get yourself killed," he said, blunt as ever.
Mega harsh.
"I resent the implication that I'm unable to take care of myself," I huffed. "So, what am I supposed to do with this, exactly?"
He snatched it from my hand. "It allows us to see how previous champions solved their clues. Perhaps there have been patterns. Now," Abiel looked me over through his spectacles, "any particular markings on the egg I should be aware of? The tournament of 1438 had an inscription on their clues in Ancient Greek."
I decided then was probably a good time to give the clue a more thorough once-over. "No. No markings."
He nodded, not at all put out. "Set it on fire."
I nearly dropped the chain altogether. "Are you insane? What if it melts!"
"1502 had to set theirs on fire to uncover the hint," he explained absently, falling back behind his books.
"I hate to imagine what that task was." Turning my wand to the hearth, I muttered, "Incendio!" and continued, "If this little scheme of yours destroys my only clue I'm never speaking to you again."
"What a pity that would be," Abiel muttered sarcastically.
Only after flipping him an exceedingly rude gesture, I held the egg over the fire until chain began warming in my hand.
"Nothing's happening. Any other bright ideas?"
"Anything unusual occur when you have it on?"
"Huh?"
"Do you feel nauseas? Start floating? Blind? Can you twist it open? How does it taste? Does it have a supernatural ability to attract cats? Have you tried transfiguring it? What about—"
"Slow down. Cats? Taste? What in the world were these challenges?" I demanded, shaking my head.
Abiel sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I'm just covering all our bases."
I thought about it. Genuinely. "I can't think of anything out of the ordinary."
"Start paying attention from now on," he instructed crossly. "You wouldn't notice if it turned your own hair blue."
"You're enjoying this aren't you? You enjoy pointing out my flaws."
"Someone has to."
I wrinkled my nose. "Now I remember why I go hang around Hufflepuffs. You Ravenclaws are absolutely remorseless."
I heard something slam down, hard, behind the precariously leaning tower of books. "You are a Ravenclaw, too, in case you've forgotten."
"I'm a— I'm a what?" I blinked in mock surprise, looking around in confusion. "Me? A Ravenclaw? Since when? This is the first I'm hearing of it."
"Oh would you just shut up."
Hearing the blatant defeat in his voice, I grinned. "My pleasure. Now, let me see that list of the old clues again. I'd like to check..."