Chapter 98: Inner Demons (2)

Carsilion Egbert tossed a Galleon to Madame Rosmerta, who flashed a seductive smile in return. He then picked up the tray carrying the pot of Silver Needle tea and two delicate cups, making his way to the table where Minerva McGonagall awaited him. He had to admit that the barmaid of The Three Broomsticks was definitely his type, however, he found out with surprise that he was much more willing to spend the afternoon, talking with the shy and brilliant Transfiguration teacher, than having fun in bed with Rosmerta.

Minerva smiled gratefully when her colleague poured her a cup of the aromatic white tea with unforgettable delicate flower scent.

"Would you care for milk or sugar?" – asked Carsilion, filling his own cup.

"No, it would be a crime to spoil this rare treasure." – she replied, admiring the colour and the smell of the golden liquid.

"It's just tea." – the wizard smiled – "What's a crime is enduring something you don't enjoy simply to meet expectations."

"Are you still talking about the tea?" – asked Minerva, arching an eyebrow.

"Apologies, I have a lot on my mind lately." – said the man, his gaze fixed on Minerva's delicate yet stern features.

"I think we all do." – she sighed – "So many attacks, so many incidents, so many quarrels! Hogwarts doesn't seem like the peaceful haven it used to be. It's as if the turmoil of the world has seeped into our walls. Look at what happened to Miss Plantier!"

"I understand what you're saying, but that particular incident was probably not related to the rest of them." – the DADA teacher mused – "Miss Plantier and Mr Snape have been at each other's throats from the first day they set foot to Hogwarts. I mean, Severus has issues with their whole gang, but with Catherine, it's an explosive combination. For someone as gifted in magic as she is to resort to physical violence instead of spells, it's quite something. She must have been beyond herself with rage."

"And yet, what he did was unacceptable!" – McGonagall shook her head – "I'm not defending her outburst, but as I explained to Horace, I can understand her reaction to some degree."

"What did Horace say?" – asked Carsilion with curiosity.

"He whined for a while and then suggested we should pair Miss Plantier and Mr Snape for various tasks together because proximity creates understanding."

"Pff, was that the best thing he could come up with?" – the wizard asked, choking on his tea.

"Yeah, he's usually quite helpless when there's some friction between any of his favourite students." – explained Minerva with a hint of condescension.

"Well, not everyone could maintain such a strict and composed demeanour in every situation, my dear." – Carsilion flashed a smile, that caused the Transfiguration Professor to blush heavily.

"I wish that were true." – she said quietly – "These days, I've been on edge more often than not. With all the attacks against Muggle-borns, I start fearing every shadow. I'm terrified for my Muggle-born students and their families, especially because I'm not even sure they're safe here at Hogwarts. And it's affecting my teaching. Last week, I snapped at Peter Pettigrew for playing with his rat instead of turning it into a shoe straight away."

"Well, Mr Pettigrew does have the remarkable talent of making you want to yell at him." – shrugged the DADA teacher – "But for your own good, you should try to distinguish between your justifiable fears from those that are just a projection of your imagination. For instance, the school may not be as safe as it used to be, but it's still much safer than anywhere else because Dumbledore is with us."

"I know you're technically right." – sighed the witch – "However, even Albus can't stop this evil by himself. He was away the last couple of weeks, and it seems that this man's supporters are growing exponentially. Apparently, some of them have threatened members of the Prewett family!"

"I didn't know that." – admitted Carsilion – "But aren't the Prewetts all Pure-bloods?"

"They consider them blood traitors because they support protection of Muggles and advocate for the full integration of Muggle-borns wizards and witches." – Minerva elaborated reluctantly.

"What a load of crap!" – barked the other Professor, irritated – "That goes against everything we know about wizarding genetics! It makes no sense scientifically or ethically!"

"I'm afraid they care of neither. According to Dumbledore, their leader seeks ultimate power and control for his own benefit. For that, he'll use whatever ideology serves him to gain the most support." – McGonagall stated.

"These Dark wizards are the most dangerous." – growled Carsilion – "He needs to be stopped sooner rather than later."

"Albus is doing his best, but people seem hesitant to believe that the Ministry may not have the capacity to handle such a threat!" – the Transfiguration Professor exclaimed angrily, her beady eyes gleaming with determination – "Nevertheless, we must persist! Convincing even one person is a win!"

"Isn't that too much?" – asked the wizard softly.

"You don't need to be sarcastic!" – complained the woman.

"No, that's not what I meant!" – the Marquis waved his hand apologetically – "I'm simply concerned whether this burden of responsibility and stress might be too much for you to bear alone."

"I'm the Deputy Headmistress!" – she declared, lifting her chin slightly – "It's my duty to take responsibility!"

Carter gently cupped her cheek with his hand, his sky-blue eyes locked intensely with her dark ones as he slowly leaned in closer. His whisper was soft, eliciting goosebumps that swept over her entire body.

"There's only as much burden as we can carry, Minerva! If you only wish, I'm ready to share some of yours at any moment."

The witch's face turned bright red, but she didn't flinch as Carsilion's lips slowly approached hers. She felt his burningly hot breath on her skin when they were rudely interrupted by the coquettish voice of Madame Rosmerta.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Professor, but this letter has just arrived for you, delivered by a Swiftwing owl!"

While Minerva's eyes were shooting daggers at the beautiful landlady, Carter Thorne quickly opened the small envelope and scanned its contents. His complexion paled; he stood abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor.

"I'm terribly sorry, but there's an urgent matter I must attend to. It was a pleasure, Minerva. I'll see you at the castle."

With that, he rushed through the door of the inn, as if a whole pride of manticores was chasing after him.

'It's like he knows when I'm having a good time and always arrives to ruin it for me!' – the wizard thought, franticly looking around, trying to catch a glimpse of every student's face – 'Fuck my luck! Why can't he shop for his stupid antiques some other time! Where's the girl, though? I'm sure I spotted her leaving the castle with Lupin!'

Carsilion felt tempted to use the Spirit of Air to find Catherine. However, he didn't dare resort to Air Magic so close to Adrian, who was also an Air Mage and could sense his presence even if he wasn't open to his element at that particular moment. Sprinting down High Street, trying to ignore the astonished faces of his students who had probably never imagined their composed and cold DADA Professor capable of such a sprint, the Marquis noticed a small crowd gathered around what appeared to be a Muggle car. It took only a few moments for Carsilion to recognise the Head of House Borealis as he exited the vehicle; he also spotted Catherine at the back of the crowd, staring wide-eyed at the Duke, her hand gripping her wand in desperation.

'It seems she does know who he is after all.' – the Professor thought briefly before springing into action, knowing he had very little time before either the girl did something incredibly stupid yet satisfying, such as hexing the smug bastard, or before he noticed them. Carsilion wasn't sure if Adrian would have detected anything suspicious about Catherine, but he was definitely worried that, due to her unusual magical aura, he would become intrigued. Adrian Borealis snooping around Catherine Plantier was an absolute nightmare they needed to prevent at all costs. Furthermore, if the Duke glanced in the girl's direction, he might have noticed him as well, and that would have opened up a whole other set of questions that the Marquis had absolutely no desire to answer. Even if he claimed he was there to look after Greg McMahon, the fact he was not using his real name, would have highlighted way too many suspicious circumstances which could swiftly prompt the aristocrats to investigate what was happening at Hogwarts.

What bothered Carsilion the most was the possibility of Lucius Malfoy informing Adrian that this lanky girl, who coincidentally had eyes remarkably similar to those of Louisa McMahon, was able to speak Parseltongue. While currently, that was not a particular risk, due to Borealis' lack of attention to any member of the Malfoys and Lucius' misunderstanding of the importance of what he knew, that would not have been the case if they were actively looking for odd occurrences at Hogwarts and relying on people they could use to gather this information.

All these thoughts raced through the DADA teacher's mind as he discreetly slipped into the nearest shadowy alley, ensuring he remained unnoticed. Swiftly, he reached out, grasped Catherine's upper arm, and yanked her toward himself, apparating at the same moment. Internally, he cursed the measures he had to take to keep all the secrets intact.

Once they arrived in the grimy, disreputable room that Dumbledore reserved for clandestine meetings with those preferring anonymity—a space he had generously allowed Carsilion to use as needed—Professor Carter Thorne struggled to regain his composure. He was painfully aware of his dishevelled hair and the sweat that tainted his usually pristine appearance.

"Well, Miss Plantier, it appears you still haven't learned that school rules apply to everyone. Twenty points from Gryffindor!" – he hissed, trying to appear as angry as possible to mask his relief and regret over what he was about to do.

"There is no such rule!" – Catherine objected, rubbing her arm where he had probably hold her a bit too tightly – "And what you have just done could be considered kidnapping! Where the hell are we?"

"Watch your language, Miss Plantier!" – the Professor answered coldly – "This room in the Hog's Head Inn is kept by Hogwarts for any business we teachers might need to conduct in Hogsmeade, including disciplining students without causing a commotion in public spaces. And yes, there is a rule against carelessly brandishing your wand. It's for public safety, which we must observe as guests of the village. Given your track record, nobody knows what kind of ill-considered spells you might have cast at some of your classmates who happened to displease you."

"That was not the case!" – the young witch responded angrily.

"Then why was your wand out?" – asked Carsilion, well aware she wouldn't answer honestly but determined to make her more cautious to prevent future incidents – "I'm sure that as a Muggle-born you are not aware, but the gentleman who exited the car is a very important person in our world. I'll be damned if I allow one of my students to cause ruckus in front of Duke Adrian Borealis. You're already looking… peculiar after the incident, we can't afford to showcase Hogwarts as a place where there are no rules and discipline! If anything, we would like to attract more aristocrats to study here."

Carsilion was amazed he hadn't choked on his own words, but he must have sounded convincing because Catherine's eyes brimmed with tears of anger, likely provoked by his comment about her appearance. She bit her lip, struggling to contain her temper. In a hoarse voice, she barely managed to mumble: "I understand, Professor. May I leave?"

"Yes, you may, but I advise you to return to the castle. As I said, we want to make a good impression to His Grace, and you don't seem to be in the right sprit to do so." – the Marquis said, feeling utterly disgusted with himself for eroding the trust his best friend's daughter had in him. Moreover, simulating the obsequious behaviour others showed Adrian Borealis made him physically sick.

Carsilion stoically endured Catherine's gaze full of dislike and apparent suspicion. She looked like someone who had just realised they were in the company of a dangerous person and was desperately looking for a way out.

'Back to protecting her from the shadows as the mean Professor Thorne.' – he thought bitterly, observing the young witch make a beeline for the door. She cast a wary glance over her shoulder, as if she expected him to hex her – 'But it's better if she's wary of me! She can't trust people around her. Many of them would sell her to the aristocrats in an instant if they knew who she was and how incredibly valuable that information would be to any of the major Houses. This is not a game! She's in real danger! I must speak to Edward.'

With a faint crack, the Marquis disapparated from the dirty room, while at the same time, a very upset teenage girl slammed the front door of the inn as she appeared back on High Street.