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Sargeras watched the small, hunched figure of Dobby bent over the desk, quill racing across parchment. He rolled his tongue once more against the inside of his cheek.
The sharp sting was fading at last, leaving only a faint numb echo. A slow breath eased from his chest.
Fortune, for once, had shown a scrap of mercy. The Fang of Misfortune had merely grazed him this time, nothing more than a few near bites of his tongue.
No spilled ink, no spontaneous parchments bursting into sudden flame, no quill refusing to obey. In the two days since his run of ill luck began, that almost counted as a quiet victory.
Straightening in his chair, Sargeras let his gaze drift to the window. Beyond the glass the Forbidden Forest blurred into shadow, and the only sound was the soft rasp of Dobby's quill whispering across parchment, a steady hush that filled the room like a lone accompaniment.
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While students waited for their exam results, the castle released its breath all at once. Tension dissolved into a tide of noise and restless energy.
Laughter and excited voices tumbled through every corridor. In the common rooms small knots of friends huddled to plan their holidays. Even the portraits, caught up in the mood, warbled off-key songs with cheerful abandon.
The very air smelled of freedom.
Summer break was close enough to touch, and Hogwarts had taken on the feel of a grand party already half dismissed.
Apart from the joyous rush, Sargeras stood at his office window and looked down upon the grounds through the eyes of his raven, Noctis. From that silent vantage he watched the school boil with life.
One task held his thoughts fast: Astoria Greengrass must not become a target for any old family grudges when the long summer vacation scattered them all.
"Write a letter for me," he said without turning from the window. "Send it to Greengrass Manor. No need to soften the wording. Make the message clear. Every member of the family is to keep their dealings civil."
He let the silence linger for a breath before adding, "Remind them that a holiday is meant for families to come together. Too much harshness is poison to both mind and body."
His voice cooled, edged with warning as his thoughts turned to the old eccentrics who still lingered in the shadows of the Manor. "And if anyone chooses to ignore this… they will answer for the consequences themselves."
"Dobby obeys!"
The house-elf bobbed his head in a frantic nod, his two great ears flapping with the motion.
Through the raven's eyes the view drifted across the noisy castle grounds before settling on a corridor near the Ravenclaw tower.
A small knot of students had gathered there, yet the mood around them felt strangely wrong, cut off from the cheer that filled the rest of the castle.
Luna Lovegood stood at the center with her usual faraway air, a roll of parchment resting lightly in her hand. On it she had drawn a list of missing items: a shoe decorated with a tiny house-elf figure, a carrot-shaped necklace, and a copy of The Quibbler.
Beside her stood Astoria Greengrass, who looked nothing like the quiet girl who usually spoke in a voice soft as falling dust. She bristled now like a kitten with its fur standing on end.
Several Ravenclaw boys and girls blocked their way, their faces twisted with mocking amusement.
"Hey, the loony girl is out hunting for her make-believe again?" Larry deliberately pitched his voice loud enough to draw curious glances from passersby. "What is it this time, Luna? Did you lose your pest-catching net for those imaginary Blibbering Humdinger bugs?"
His companions snickered behind their hands.
One of the girls gave the notice board a deliberate bump with her shoulder. The missing-item poster that Astoria had so carefully pinned there slipped sideways with a sharp rustle.
The young girl's cheeks flushed crimson in an instant. She yanked out her wand, her knuckles whitening with the force of her grip.
The eyes that were usually filled with timid caution now blazed with a fierce light, a fire that was half fear and half unshaken fury.
"Get out of the way!"
Her voice wavered at first, then rose sharp and clear. "You've gone too far!"
"We've gone too far?" Larry spread his hands in mock innocence, his gaze flicking toward Luna with a sneer. "You two are the ones plastering all these odd little trinkets all over the place. Isn't it about time someone cleaned them up?"
He glanced toward his friends and earned a few snorts of agreement.
"Don't think I don't know," Astoria shot back, her chest rising and falling as though each breath cost her. Her voice came out nearly as a shout, loud enough to draw a ring of onlookers. "You're the ones who hid her things!"
She raised her wand high. The slim arm that held it shook with a mix of rage and nerves, as if it might snap under the strain the next second.
"I'm warning you. Give them back. Right now. Or—"
She drew a deep breath, and when she spoke again her voice carried a final, fearless note. "Or I'll challenge you to a duel!"
A ripple of hushed astonishment swept through the watching students.
Timid Astoria Greengrass, calling someone out to duel for the 'Loony' Lovegood's sake? It was the sort of scene people would whisper about until it reached the pages of the Daily Prophet.
Mason Larry froze for a heartbeat at first, then burst into a harsh laugh. "Hahahah! A duel? You? For that loony Lovegood? Has a doxy eaten through your brains? Or maybe—"
His eyes swept over Astoria with a cold, measuring arrogance. "Maybe you're in on her nonsense. Maybe you're carrying her madness like a disease."
"Shut your mouth!"
Sparks spat from the tip of Astoria's wand, sharp and dangerous.
Before the moment could flare any further, Luna reached out and caught her friend's arm with a gentle tug.
"It's all right."
Her voice, airy and dreamlike, floated through the corridor as if the malice around them simply did not exist.
She wrapped her cool fingers around Astoria's hand and spoke in a calm, even tone. "Don't let it make you angry, Astoria. Lost things have a way of finding their way back when you least expect it. Anger only gives the Wrackspurts a place to build nests inside your ears."
"Did you hear that?" Larry sneered, drawing breath for another slur. "Even she doesn't care. You little—"
A harsh, metallic cry split the air.
"Gaaah—"
The sound was rough as rust scraping iron and it instantly overpowers every voice in the hallway.
Every student froze as if a Full Body-bind Curse had passed over them and turned their heads together toward the sound.
High above, a single raven stood like a carved shadow on the sill of a stained-glass window. Its feathers were black as wet ink and it watched the crowd with a stillness that felt older than the castle itself.
The bird's eyes, deep and polished, swept across the students below and fixed without wavering on Mason Larry and the companions who had laughed the loudest beside him.
Silence fell so complete that a falling pin would have sounded like thunder.
"That's Professor Greengrass's raven!" someone whispered, the words barely more than a breath.
The raven opened its wings in a slow, deliberate stretch, then twisted in the air with an elegant turn and came to rest on Astoria's narrow shoulder.
It tilted its head, sharp beak glinting, and glanced at the missing-item notice in her hand. In a flash of movement it struck, catching the parchment with perfect precision.
Then the black wings beat once, hard and sudden. The bird became a streak of shadow that arrowed straight for Mason.
Gasps rippled through the corridor as the raven released the parchment. It landed with a crisp slap across Mason Larry's face.
Before he could snatch it away the creature had already settled on his opposite shoulder, talons pricking through the fabric of his robes with a grip that promised pain if he moved.
Mason knew that bird. Everyone did.
And he knew, too, the wizard who claimed it. The memory rose unbidden… Professor Greengrass calmly slicing through Umbridge's finger before a stunned crowd and walking away without the faintest mark of consequence.
Cold dread slid through him like a draft through stone.
"Bring it back."
The raven's voice rasped at his ear, a sound like metal dragged across stone. Mason Larry felt every hair on his body rise as if the words themselves had turned to ice.
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[Chapter End's]
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