Chapter 20
Abiel and I didn't study for too long. Before even an hour elapsed we began to hear tragic pawing at the door leading out of Ravenclaw Tower.
"Let us in." Damon's muffled voice drew out the last word into an annoying whine.
"It's not fair that you can hide behind this cryptic owl when the rest of us only have passwords," Lyra complained, back to clawing at the door. "I've always hated this door. Maybe I'll just blast it down. Problem solved."
"Hold that thought, we don't even actually know she's in there," Cass said reasonably, sounding winded the sprint up all those stairs.
I heard a crash and looked up just in time to see Abiel, steam practically rising off of him in waves, storming towards the door.
"Are you cats or wizards?" he demanded, flinging the door open.
"A witch, actually," Lyra replied with a misleading, too sweet smile.
Pushing past, Damon drew his hand through the air. "Picture this: there we were, benevolently coming up with our own plan to orchestrate your liberation from the hospital wing, when what happens? Cass and the other prefects get called to help locate a certain ungrateful someone that couldn't wait another half an hour and decided to escape without our help."
"Worse yet, you didn't even make it your first duty to join us. Virtually every professor in this entire joy-forsaken school began breathing down our necks thinking we were hiding you. Do you know what that means?" Lyra prodded my chest, leaning in menacingly.
"I'm sure I don't want to," I admitted, staring at her finger apprehensively.
"It means that, while all those teachers thought you'd come running to us to aid you in your mischief, you didn't even think of it!"
"I'm still not sure I see the problem here."
"Was it him?" Damon nodded at Abiel, who was doing his very best to ignore us. "Is he your coconspirator? You replaced us with him, of all people?"
Abiel looked like he couldn't decide whether to be offended. "You think I'd actually help her get into more trouble?"
"He has a point," Cass acknowledged. "She doesn't need any help finding trouble."
"You're not helping my case." I glared daggers at all of them in turn. "But if we're being realistic, isn't it better I didn't go straight to you? I would have been caught immediately."
I almost continued, but just then the door swung open and Professor Aragon stood, arms crossed, on the other side of the threshold.
I saw his thought process as though I came up with it myself. Let the suspects go and they'll lead you straight to what you're looking for, a classic crime solving technique. Unfortunately, the only teacher smart enough to think of it was also the only one with a chance of riddling their way into Ravenclaw Tower.
Abiel looked from the professor to Cass, Lyra, and Damon with palpable distaste. "You were followed."
———————-
Another nightmare.
I awoke in a cold sweat for the fourth time in just as many days from another nightmare. Well, the same nightmare. Each morning, my heart pounded like I'd run a mile, but my hands remained frozen at my side, utterly immobile. I could taste my own fear, bitter in my mouth.
I crawled out of the hospital bed that the professor so rudely restricted me to and checked the old grandfather clock across the room. Not even five am yet. They wouldn't be serving breakfast for at least another few hours, so my options came down to either a.) stare at the wall for awhile, or b.) catch up on the homework. The dream still in the forefront of my mind, I opted for the lesser known option c.): go wake some miserable soul up to keep me company.
I considered going to my brother. Plus, it would be unbelievably embarrassing for him if his friends saw me hanging around, and I don't think I could bear the blow to my reputation if it got around that I was such an overprotective mother hen.
Was it just an after effect of the poison that brought on the nightmares? It had to be, if not directly than maybe through the trauma the whole experience.
Technically, I still wasn't supposed to be out and about yet, but it was only breaking the rules if I got caught. After everything I'd been through those last few months, the odds of anything managing to get the jump on me was slim. Paranoia had some benefits, after all.
"Wakey wakey," I whispered, sitting at the foot of Lyra's bed and nudging her shoulder.
At first, I thought she was still asleep. Then, eye's still sealed dutifully shut, I heard her mutter under breath, "You better not actually be here right now."
"I'm bored," I lied, not willing to get into the details of the nightmare. "Pay attention to me."
"Don't make me kill you," Lyra said, smashing a pillow over her face. "Because I will if you don't let me get my remaining fifty-three minutes of sleep."
"You better believe I'll end both your lives if you two don't stop talking right now," a girl named Ada grumbled from two beds over to a murmured chorus of agreement from the others trying to sleep.
Taking that as my cue to retreat, I made my way back to the common area and decided to wait in front of the fire for Lyra to come down, be it in five minutes or fifty. To my surprise, Altair beat her to it. I sunk into my chair, doing my best to appear as invisible as possible.
Halfway to the door, he caught sight of my Malfoy-blonde hair; and started in surprise. "What are you doing here?"
"Uh, sitting?"
"You can sit anywhere, Why are you sitting here?" he reiterated.
"Waiting for Lyra. What else?"
"Shouldn't you be in hospital?"
I scowled. "We don't talk about that."
Altair wasn't sure what to make of that statement, but moved to sit across from me. I really wished he wouldn't.
"How far along are you on that clue?" he asked, fingers clasped over his knees.
"We don't talk about that, either," I said.
His stony expression matched my own. "You're down to under two months before the task."
"Yeah, I am, so I don't see why you are on my case already," I huffed, throwing myself against the back of the couch.
Boy, did I choose the wrong friend to harass. I hadn't considered Altair would be up at this hour. How the tables had turned. The harasser had become the harassee. I would have been better off waking Cass. Well, actually, Damon, if I wanted no chance of anyone mentioning the next task, but he slept like a log, so the chances of waking him were minimal.
A miscalculation on my part.
"Over a month has already passed," Altair pointed out. "You mean to tell me you haven't figured out anything in a month?"
"That's exactly what I mean to tell you."
"Listen, I intend to win the tournament, so if you'd please stop acting like a misbehaving child and actually focus on the task at hand, I'd appreciate it."
"I think I liked you more when I was poisoned," I sighed wistfully, looking off into the distance for effect. Granted, the distance wasn't very far since we were in the dungeons beneath the castle. "You were so kind for all of thirty seconds when you were telling me not to die or I'd ruin your chances at five hundred galleons. I miss that."
A muscle began flexing in his jaw. "I don't think those were my exact words."
I shrugged. "Subtext." Altair looked ready to dispute my claim, so I cut him off. "Speaking of being poisoned, I'm sure there's a cot in the hospital wing with my name on it," I gave a weak attempt at a cough we both knew full well was contrived. "It's best I get going."
He grabbed on my arm as I turned away, halting my retreat. "Be more careful." His eyes glittered like the moon reflected on deep water. "Something odd is going on with you."
My eyebrows rose. "Me? What have I done?" I protested.
He shook his head slowly. "Not you personally, but... something isn't right. Even before you were poisoned things around you have seemed off. Just be careful."
With that, he let go.
Creeping down the corridors back to the hospital wing, alone, I had to remind myself I wasn't the intended victim of the poison. Still, it wasn't comforting knowing there was an attempted murderer out there, even if I didn't think I was their target.
I swallowed hard as I caught onto the glaring flaw in my reasoning: think. I didn't think I was the target. What if I was wrong?