"Oh." Justin's curiosity gave way to mild disappointment, as though he'd been promised a whole box of chocolates and handed a single boiled sweet instead. "Richie, what about the cane? Why do you carry it everywhere?"
Richard's eyes gleamed with mischief, and a roguish smile crept across his lips.
"Secret."
"Oh, come on, what secret?" Finch-Fletchley waved the answer away. "You've done something to it, haven't you?"
"Perhaps." Richard's eyes sparkled slyly again, catching the flickering torchlight. "Or perhaps it's just an ordinary cane..."
Justin and Richie entered the Great Hall. Above them, the enchanted ceiling displayed a cloudless, star-filled sky. Beneath it, conjured bats traced intricate geometric patterns through the air. The students chatted noisily, creating a constant hum that resembled the bustle of a crowded railway station.
The boys headed for the Hufflepuff table, passing the staff table on the way.
Richard glanced toward the High Table—or rather, at the peculiar behaviour of the Head of Slytherin House. Snape suddenly jerked as though he'd been slapped across the face. He shot to his feet as if something had stung him somewhere decidedly uncomfortable and hurried over to the Headmaster.
Justin noticed the Potions master's strange behaviour as well and stopped beside Richard. The boys caught Snape's agitated voice, laced with unmistakable notes of gloating anticipation.
"Headmaster, the alarm charms I placed on the statue of the One-Eyed Witch have just been triggered. We can catch the culprits in the act!"
"Severus, the feast is about to begin," Dumbledore replied.
"I'm an old man..." Candlelight glinted from his half-moon spectacles. "If you're so eager, you and Minerva may go and investigate."
"That's exactly what we'll do," Snape drawled in his hissing voice, baring his teeth in a pleased grin like a predator that had scented wounded prey.
Minerva McGonagall, who had been seated beside the relentlessly talkative Gilderoy Lockhart with a thoroughly miserable expression, instantly realized she had a perfectly respectable excuse to escape his company. She jumped to her feet and said,
"Yes, yes, Severus, let's go at once. It's our duty to protect the students and deal with rule-breakers."
Snape and McGonagall hurried out of the Great Hall.
Justin immediately lost interest in the staff table and made his way over to the Hufflepuffs.
Richie, meanwhile, looked over at the Gryffindor table in confusion. George, Fred, and Ron Weasley were all in their places, and Harry Potter was sitting beside his friend as well.
Then who used the secret passage to Hogsmeade, if everyone who knows about it is sitting here in the Great Hall?
Richie also made a mental note that the secret passage could no longer be used. Some sort of alarm charm had clearly been placed on it. A pity—it had been an exceptionally convenient route for conducting covert operations on Hogwarts grounds.
Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his throne-like chair and delivered a speech lasting about five minutes, the entire substance of which could be summed up quite simply:
"Today is Halloween. Congratulations. Eat your fill—but don't gorge yourselves until your intestines twist, because Madam Pomfrey already has enough on her hands."
Once the students had taken the edge off their hunger, conversations sprang up at the House tables, gradually swelling into a lively din in which it became possible to hear only those sitting closest.
Richie tried to restrain himself, but in the end his curiosity got the better of him, and he walked over to the Gryffindor table. There, he politely exchanged greetings with everyone he knew, then beckoned Harry, Ron, Fred, and George aside with a series of subtle nods. Hermione followed them, although no one had invited her.
The fairly large group left the Great Hall. Everyone walked briskly and enthusiastically except Ron, who looked thoroughly disgruntled and kept casting wistful glances back at the festive table.
There was no rule against leaving the Great Hall during a meal or approaching another House's table. After all, someone might want to chat with relatives from another House, like the Patil sisters, or with friends. Or perhaps someone might suddenly need the loo. Then again, they might simply have had their fill and wanted a bit of time to themselves. It wasn't as though the staff were going to force the students to remain glued to their seats until the very end of dinner.
The group stopped near the staircase leading to the North Tower, in a spot where there was not a single living portrait nearby.
Grosvenor glanced at Granger, but decided there would be no harm in letting her in on some of their secrets. Hermione needed to be gradually accustomed to keeping secrets—the more harmless ones, at least—and it would also be a useful test of how well she could hold her tongue when the secrets were not her own.
Fred asked the question on everyone's mind.
"Richard, why did you call us out here?"
"Gentlemen," Grosvenor began, sweeping an attentive gaze over them all, "I've discovered that Professor Snape placed alarm charms on the statue of the One-Eyed Witch. A moment before the feast began, they were triggered..." The boy's gaze settled on the twins.
"So that's why Snape and McGonagall rushed off!" Harry remarked.
Fred and George frowned. George quietly voiced what he was thinking.
"That's it, then. That passage is finished. I knew we shouldn't use it again!"
"What secret passage?" Hermione asked with undisguised curiosity.
"To Hogsmeade," Richard replied, without taking his eyes off the twins. "Gentlemen, what concerns me is something else. Who else have you told about it?"
Both twins frowned even more deeply and began thinking hard. Fred answered uncertainly,
"Lee Jordan knows, but he never told anyone, and he's been with us the whole time. So it wasn't him."
"Are you certain?" Richard asked.
"I trust Jordan," Fred replied more firmly. "He knows how to keep a secret."
The furrows vanished from George's brow as realisation struck him.
"The Marauders!"
"What?" Fred looked at his twin, then understanding flashed in his eyes. "Of course! The Marauders!"
"The friends of Harry's dad?" Ron asked.
"What have the marauders got to do with it?" Potter demanded.
"This girl..." George glanced at Hermione. "Can she be trusted?"
Granger looked hopefully at Richard, with a trace of anxiety hidden beneath her anticipation. She understood that they were discussing some kind of secret, and desperately wanted to be included. More than that, she longed to hear her only friend say the cherished words—that he trusted her.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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