Unplottable

23 - Aisha

"Remus?" Aisha knocked tentatively. "Remus, are you in there?"

For a couple of seconds, nothing happened; Aisha decided to return to her room. Either the wizard wasn't in his quarters, or he did not want to see her, something she had often experienced with men she fancied. Just as she turned around, he opened.

"Aisha," he said with the smile she found so striking and held the door ajar for her. She slipped inside, willing her heart to stop beating so frantically. So he smiled, she told it, but now get a grip on yourself, heart.

Remus Lupin filled a small kettle with water and hung it over the open fireplace. He put some tealeaves into his chipped teapot and fetched two cups from his shelf. Invited by a movement of his hand, Aisha sat down on his fluffy, battered armchair, leaving the hard-backed chair for him to sit on.

"It's nice that you're coming to visit me here," he said. "I do get a bit lonely sometimes, and it's not nice never to be able to go out." Once more, Aisha was dazzled by his faint smile.

"How are you? How did today's Muggle Studies lessons go?"

Aisha shrugged. "Not too bad. Pat and I had a particularly strange lesson trying to teach the fourth years what Muggle religion was all about - you know, what it was for and which different kinds there were. Generally speaking, in which part of the world you can find which religions, and how all of this influences our society. I think we really confused our students. It seems to me they tend to think we Muggles are all alike, a homogeneous group of deprived and therefore simple-minded and noncomplex people. They seem to have no clear idea of how countries differ from each other. I mean, they know that other countries exist, and that in other countries, there are wizards and Muggles, too. They also are aware of other customs existing in other countries - for example, they said they once had a group of French students here and the French ate really strange food. But otherwise -" she shrugged. "To me it seems that they know very little of the world."

Lupin sighed. "Witches and wizards travel too little, and they care too little about international affairs. Over the centuries, they have more or less preserved an attitude of 'leave my Muggles alone, and I'll leave your Muggles alone,' if you know what I mean. It's a thing that really should be changed. We should give our students the chance to see a bit of the world so they know there's more to it than just the bit they know. In a way, they are like some of these American kids who only have a vague idea that besides theirs, there's some more continents in this world."

"So you got a chance to meet some American high school students?" Aisha said, grinning to herself as she imagined Remus Lupin chatting with American teenagers.

"Oh, sure - I mean, er, no, not really," Lupin replied, blushing slightly. "I mean, I was only in the country for a couple of weeks, and most of the time, Sirius and I were hiding - just as I am now," he added with a sigh.

"It's the first time you ever left the country," Aisha stated, asking for confirmation.

Lupin nodded. "True. As a werewolf, I was never permitted to cross the boarders of Britain, which is a pity, as I always wanted to travel."

"And the one time you left the country illegally, you returned so soon," she said, shaking her head in confusion. "Do you regret it? I mean, you haven't had much chance to look for that Pettigrew guy yet, have you?" He had told her all about the crimes of Pettigrew, the spy, and about his friends James and Lily who had died because of him.

Lupin sighed. "They don't really let me out, you know," he said. "They even confiscated Harry's Invisibility Cloak and gave it back to him, so I can't get out. I suppose it's all for my own safety, but -" he shrugged, "sitting around here is not really the reason why I came back to this country."

"This doesn't make a whole lot of sense to me. Is there anything I can do for you?" Aisha found herself asking.

"Like - getting the Cloak back for me?" There was a brief gleam in Lupin's eyes, but it was replaced by a benevolent smile. "I can't ask something like that from you, Aisha. Remember, they are all witches and wizards here, and you are just a Muggle. The whole castle is full of magic - magic staircases, magic doors with magic locks. You wouldn't stand a chance if you tried to steal the Cloak from Harry."

Aisha hadn't been aware of offering to steal the Cloak for Lupin up to that moment. Now however, as the look he gave her made her feel all warm inside, the decision formed inside her mind: She would try to get hold of the Cloak for him if she had a chance. She might be just a Muggle, but that didn't mean she wasn't resourceful. However, she kept her thoughts to herself, deciding that if she managed to get the Cloak for him, it was going to be a surprise.

To keep her thoughts silent, she changed the subject to the first thing that came to her mind: "So what do you think of the elections? The whole castle seems to be talking about hardly anything else."

Lupin grinned crookedly. "I suppose I think what everybody else thinks. There is their candidate, Lucius Malfoy, who is positively evil, and our candidate, Arthur Weasley. Apparently, nobody else dared running for the office, as the options are limited: Either Magical Britain fights the Dark Lord, or it supports him in his evil plans to throw the country or even the world into a state of Darwinist anarchy, as you Muggles would say. You see, the old Minister of Magic, in whose death I played such an unfortunate role, had adapted some kind of middle position: Let's turn a blind eye and pretend nothing is happening. If you ask me, he was imitating the behaviour of a toddler who thinks that if he hides his eyes, the trouble will go away. Now, I suppose, people have accepted that there is not going to be a middle position anymore. I personally believe we are heading for open war, a kind of civic guerrilla war in which witches and wizards will kill each other in large numbers. The only question is who is on which side, and which side will consequently prove to be stronger. The upcoming election will be a first indication of the things to come: If Weasley wins, this means that the majority of witches and wizards are willing to make some kind of stand against the Dark Lord. It does not mean that they are all willing to risk their lives in fighting him, but it is a good sign. If Malfoy wins, we know we have a problem, not only because we know how things stand with the magical population of Britain, but also because as Minister of Magic, Malfoy would have access to many resources which could be turned against us."

Aisha had huddled in her armchair, listening to his small speech with a mixture of fascination and dread. Wizard politics made her feel slightly dizzy. In comparison to the electoral system of her own country, everything was so much more direct, and so much more obviously a matter of life and death. Surely matters couldn't be that simple?

"So to which parties do the two of them belong?" she asked.

Lupin leant back in his chair, assuming a position that Aisha would have called a lecturing posture. Then he shook his head. "We don't have political parties in Magical Britain, at least not in the sense that Muggles do. As the magical community is a relatively small one, everyone knows more or less where the other witches and wizards stand in matters of views and opinions. Malfoy does not have to belong to a party to let others know that he is pro pure-bloodedness, against Muggle protection laws, against cooperation with Muggles, and that he probably supports the Dark Lord. The same is true for Arthur Weasley: We all know what kind of job he is doing, what kind of people he associates with, which views he holds, and that he is on Dumbledore's side."

"But -" Aisha was thinking about the political system she knew, "surely a Minister of Magic does not rule on his own, does he? He must have other ministers who form a government with him. Who will they be if there is no party from which the Minister can take his officials?"

"Well, that's not exactly how it works," Lupin said. "If Weasley makes it into the office, he will be head of the Ministry of Magic. The people working at the Ministry do not officially belong to any party or interest group, either. The purpose of the Ministry is to protect witches and wizards from Muggles through secrecy, to keep international magic relations on cooperative terms, and to organise magic society through laws. The idea behind it is that witches and wizards are a homogeneous group who, generally speaking, share the same views, opinions and interests. Of course, this is not always the case. There are rich and poor wizards, pure-blooded and half-blooded wizards, and there are differences of opinion, for example regarding the treatment of Muggles."

The profusion of new information dazzled Aisha; however, one thing struck her as particularly strange.

"Why do you need protection from Muggles? I mean, with all your magical powers, are you afraid of Muggles?"

Lupin shrugged. "I suppose so. For one thing, there are far more Muggles than witches and wizards. Of course, that did not scare us in the past, but over the last few decades, things have changed. We used to rule the Muggles in the past, through medieval times and, in a way, also during the last centuries. It was the Industrial Revolution that really diminished wizard power in Europe, and in the States - well, things were different there to start with. For one thing, through technology, Muggles learned to do many things that used to be the prerogatives of wizards. Not only did they produce large numbers of goods, but they also learned to bridge space through transportation and communication technology. I sometimes wonder why witches and wizards did not stop the technological development of Muggle power. I suppose that at first, they did not take it seriously, and then suddenly it was too late. Now it's not only that Muggles are no longer afraid of their former wizard rulers; we even have to worry about the things that might happen if Muggles knew about us. With all their technology, particularly their modern weapons, they might get us into their powers and exploit us if they knew about us."

Fascinated, Aisha listened to him. Then she asked: "Is that the reason why Muggles burned witches in medieval times - because they tried to rule them?"

Lupin shook his head. "Witch burning was never particularly effective, because we can protect ourselves against fire and the like. Also, we are talking about a big power struggle between the Muggle church and the wizard rulers. Today, things are different. Individual Muggles might have a hard time imprisoning and keeping hold of wizards, of trying to make them do things for them. However, if large and powerful Muggles decided to stick together, trying to dominate us, they might resort to means such as war and destruction. Even if they did not manage to rule us, they would destroy our world. This is why we do not want Muggles to know that we exist."

"But why should Muggles - why should we make war on you?" Aisha asked, remembering that in the conflict he described, Lupin and she were on different, maybe even opposing sides.

Lupin smiled at her remark, perhaps noticing her use of the word 'we'. "Oh, you might want us to solve your problems, you know - get rid of pollution, feed the hungry, extinguish diseases, maybe even pacify parts of the world where the deprived and exploited fight against each other."

Aisha was awed. "Could you do that?" she asked.

Lupin shrugged. "I suppose so, at least partially. Today, the Muggle world has so many problems that you can't solve them just by a flick of your wand. Magic does not work that way; it was never a power that easily functions on a large scale, but rather the power an individual exacts in an individual situation. However, if many or even all witches and wizards worked together and really devoted their time and powers to it, we might be able to fix a few things."

"Why don't you, then?" Aisha inquired, uncomprehending. Watching the news on TV always made her feel small, insignificant and, most of all, helpless. If she had seen it within her powers to really make a difference, she would have given up many things to do so, maybe even her music. However, as she had the feeling that most political activists mostly struggled against windmills or fought among themselves, she had never really felt that she should find herself a place among them. Still, her lack of ability to change things had always frustrated her. Now that she heard Lupin speak, her wish to have been born a witch, to have the power to change things, was stronger than ever.

After hesitating briefly, Lupin answered: "You see, things are not that easy. Many wizards believe that as Muggles have created these problems, they should solve them on their own, too. Of course, we share the same world, so many of the problems are our problems, too. However, if I look at Muggles I have the impression that many of them do not seem to worry very much about things like pollution, famines or war, either. I suppose that on both sides, people tend to look away and to care mostly about their own wealth and happiness. There are a couple of people who believe we should solve the Muggles' problems - people like the League for example. Others think the League are just a bunch of dangerous madmen. You see, we are far from united."

Aisha pondered that for a moment. After sipping at her tea, she asked: "And where do you stand?"

Lupin hesitated; then he sat up in his chair and said quite quickly: "I am with Dumbledore, of course."

"And where exactly does Dumbledore stand?" Aisha asked.

Lupin leant back again. "First of all, Dumbledore opposes the Dark Lord and his realm of terror. He believes that Muggles and wizards should live in peace with each other, maybe cooperate, too, but he's not a radical like the League members. He believes in the Statute of Secrecy, not in the League's idea that we should openly declare our powers and offer the Muggles our assistance. I second that, because I believe it would end in disaster if the Muggles knew the truth."

"I know the truth," Aisha reminded him. "Does this mean you have to modify my memory now?"

The lines around Lupin's eyes creased into a smile. "No, I won't. You are a friend of Roary and Varlerta, and I suppose the two of them pick their friends with care. You have known about us for a while, and as far as I know, you have not gone to any Muggle paper to yell your head off about what you saw. There have always been Muggles in whom witches and wizards have put their trust - sometimes our friends, sometimes our spouses, and of course the close family of Muggle-born witches and wizards. Therefore, the system has always been on shaky ground; however, as long as only a few people believe in our existence, individuals do not have much chance to endanger us. Over centuries, we have made sure that Muggles accuse each other of superstition or even madness in case some of them claim to have seen magic. If there are some occasional reports in the paper, sensible Muggles will believe it's all rubbish, right?"

Aisha nodded. "Well, you do your best to keep us ignorant and stupid, I suppose," she said, noticing the slightly bitter edge in her own voice. To soften it, she added: "I suppose if Voldemort came to rule the world, our lot would be much worse."

She thought that Lupin flinched at her use of the name, but maybe she had only imagined it. "No one knows exactly whether the Dark Lord is really seeking world dominance," he replied. "If he attempted to gain it, this would mean terrible war, and terrible bloodshed. Maybe that is what he wants, though - to cause as much chaos as he can, and to thrive on the sufferings of others."

"We have to stop him, then," Aisha said quietly. "Do you think we stand a chance?"

Lupin sat up and reached across the small table; he stroked across the tips of Aisha's short, shaved spikes of hair. Expecting his touch, Aisha felt a shiver run down her spine.

"We'll do our best, my brave little Muggle," he said, smiling, and withdrew his hand again.

Aisha did not appreciate being called 'little', but the affection in his voice let the heat rise to her face. She felt she had to excuse herself quickly before she might do or say something stupid. Making a show of looking at her wristwatch, she said: "I think I have to go to band practise now." The truth was that she still had half an hour until band practise, but she felt she had to collect herself a bit for it.

"That's a pity," Lupin said. "Will you come back to visit me again soon, or will you leave me up here in my prison?" He winked at her; to Aisha, it almost seemed as if he was flirting with her.

"Sure," she replied, her mouth suddenly dry. He wanted to see her again! He seemed to like her! Aisha decided it was really time to leave now, or she would definitely say or do something stupid. Guys always got to her like that, and often they knew how much she liked them far too early. She did not want to be easy prey yet again, especially not for a wizard. Therefore, she rose and put a hand on the doorknob.

"I will be back tomorrow," she told him.

"I'd like that," he said, touching her sleeved arm very slightly with his hand as a parting gesture.

With a last nod to him, Aisha opened the door. When she saw a student of Hogwarts pass, a girl in the school uniform robes, she started; Lupin's presence was supposed to be kept top secret. However, as the girl turned and saw Lupin, she smiled; before Aisha could close the door on her, the girl whispered:

"Professor Lupin! It's so good to see you are alright!"

Lupin hesitated for a moment, then he whispered back: "Hermione - it's good to see you." However, he raised a finger to his lips, and then closed the door.

Hermione - that had to be the girl Ginny had told her about, Aisha realised - the girl studying a medieval branch of magic in the laboratory next door to Lupin's quarters, the girl who wanted to help Ginny's brothers. As far as she knew, Hermione was someone to be trusted. Relieved, Aisha nodded a greeting to the robed student and then walked off to her own room to calm down her frantically beating heart.

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The words 'my brave Muggle' never seemed to leave Aisha's mind during the night; she realised she was longing to hear them again. She wanted Lupin to look at her with pride in his eyes, wanted him to see her as his equal. The best way to achieve this, she thought, was to do what he thought beyond her capacities - to bring him back his Invisibility Cloak. Lying awake, she wondered how she could lay her hands on this item. Surely Harry, a school boy with nothing much to worry about except his grades, would not need the Cloak as badly as Lupin did, who was wanted by the Ministry for murder, she reasoned to justify her plan to herself.

If they had given the Cloak back to Harry Potter, it would be up the boys' dormitory in Gryffindor Tower, she thought, remembering what Ginny had told her about the accommodations of the House of Gryffindor. As a non-student and Muggle, she was, of course, not admitted to that place. However, there had to be a way to get in there and steal the Cloak.

Since she had left the safety of her parents' home, Aisha had done many underpaid and unpleasant jobs, cleaning other people's houses being one of them. It was probably her past experience that left her to wonder who did the cleaning in Gryffindor Tower, and if she could offer her assistance to them as a means of getting into the dormitory. Of course, she would have to watch it; if she helped out the cleaning squad just one time, which coincided with the disappearance of a rare magical item, people might get suspicious. However, she had the impression that witches and wizards did not think her capable of much. If she was careful, she might get away with such a stunt.

The next day, she visited Lupin again. They had a nice chat, but he did not say 'my brave Muggle' to her. Neither did he touch her or attempt to get close to her in any other way. When she left him to give Ginny her weekly drums lesson, she felt strangely empty.

After the drums lesson, Aisha remarked that for a band room, the unused classroom was extremely clean; casually, she asked who was doing the maintenance around the castle.

"House-elves," Ginny replied while packing her drumsticks into her bag.

"House-elves?" Aisha echoed, but then she nodded. If they cooked all the food for the school, it made sense that they did the cleaning, too. "Well, they do a good job cleaning up after you lot, with all the empty Butterbeer bottles and everything." Aisha suppressed a shudder. Why anyone would drink something as obnoxious as Butterbeer was beyond her comprehension.

"Well, I've got to go," Ginny said; she usually met with Varlerta and Neville for their training after her drum lessons. Aisha and the girl exchanged nods of parting.

Alone in the practise room of Ginny's still nameless band, Aisha idly practised a couple of rolls, wondering whether the house-elves cleaning squad might be her ticket into Gryffindor Tower. How could she persuade them to accept her company? 'Can I come with you now and then to help you clean up the castle?' Such a request would sound more than suspicious. The couple of times she had gone down to the kitchen, the house-elves had been kind and sympathetic to her, had given her food and had eagerly learned new recipes from Pat and her. It would be much easier to receive the house-elves' aid than to help them, Aisha decided, running an idle finger along the rim of Ginny's snare-drum.

Things looked a bit hopeless. The only thing Aisha had going for her was the fact that house-elves knew very little about Muggles. Could she fake any weird kind of custom for them? Claim to be a compulsive cleaner? Claim she was feeling a strong urge to clean Gryffindor Tower due to a strange Muggle holiday, a strange Muggle hormone change? Claim that as a non-witch, she bore a secret resemblance to house-elves which obliged her to clean at their sides? Aisha shook her head; it all sounded much too far-fetched to be even remotely credible.

Aisha returned to her rolls. Drowning her mind in the complex challenge of movement and sound, she forgot about house-elves, Cloaks and imprisoned wizards for a little while. First she practised short rolls, embedded in a simple rhythmic pattern; then she held out the rolls as long as she could keep them regular, trying to keep them up just a little longer each time, just another four strokes played as one, and another four strokes. When she felt the first, still pleasant signs of exhaustion, she stopped. After dutifully cleaning up the wooden drumstick fragments from Ginny's snare-drum, she got up to return to her own room. The idea hit her unexpectedly, and Aisha almost laughed out loud. Yes, this way she might be able to fool the house-elves into letting her do what she wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aisha timed her visit to the kitchen well. Selecting the pre-dinner period when the house-elves were particularly busy preparing the meal for the school, she knocked against the wall beneath a large painting displaying a pear which Roary usually tickled to get in. Being a Muggle, she knew that if she tickled the pear it would not help her. However, the house-elves knew her knocking by now and opened for her nevertheless.

Aisha could see the little creatures were extremely busy, but knew from experience that they would not send her away. Pretending not to notice she had come at the wrong moment, she asked if they could teach her to make Yorkshire pudding. Of course, the house-elves claimed they would love to, instead of asking her to come back at a better time. Aisha made a mental note never to become as polite as them. Faking keen interest, she watched two of the little, servile creatures give her an untimely cooking lesson. All the while she was keeping a close watch on the state of the house table: Once they were ready, she knew, all the plates and platters would be magically exchanged with those in the Great Hall, transporting mountains of food to the hordes of hungry students and teachers.

Just when the house-elves had laid out all the plates and cutlery, had piled all the food on the platters and put bowls of steaming vegetables on the table, Aisha took a few steps towards the Gryffindor table to admire their work. Stumbling over a low stool, she slammed into the table, causing it to tilt her way. All plates and platters, all the jugs of pumpkin juice and bowls of food slipped off the table. Around her, moans of dismay rose. With their own handy little spells, the house-elves saved a few dishes of meat, but most of the food landed on the floor, or on Aisha, who lay on the floor as a crumpled heap.

She did her best not to swear. She had bruised her hip on the table rather worse than expected, and hot gravy was trickling into her collar and down her back. Wiping the mashed potatoes from her eyes, brushing a couple of peas out of her hair, she slowly scrambled to her feet again.

After staring at the culinary disaster for a few moments, the house-elves had meanwhile rushed to work: Some started to clean up the table and its surroundings, while others had run to the castle's large pantries to fetch more food, to start cooking anew. It seemed that a few seconds after Aisha's accident, their frying pans had already begun to sizzle again. A few house-elves chanted in unison an incantation which was obviously meant to prematurely bring to boil the water for the potatoes. Aisha looked around. The whole kitchen was buzzing with rushed labour. Two house-elves hurriedly put out a few bowls of peanuts and chips, or rather, as the British said, crisps, on the empty Gryffindor table. Then, while every little being in the kitchen worked in a frenzy, a violet flash came down from the low ceiling, split into five parts, and exchanged the contents of the tables, those above and those below. From above, a few muffled cries of astonishment could be heard even down here in the kitchen. It was meal-time, but the hungry Gryffindors had not received their food in time.

Aisha asked the hurrying house-elves whether she could help them to quickly fix the hungry students a new meal, but was generally ignored. Every single creature in the kitchen worked towards getting the table in order; Aisha saw that they were remarkably effective. A few minutes later, the saved items and some impromptu dishes had been set on the Gryffindor table; all plates had been neatly arranged. Then one house-elf rung a large gong; another violet flash descended from the ceiling, and empty crisps and peanuts bowls replaced the impromptu meal. The task was accomplished; above, the Gryffindor students could start eating in earnest.

For a second, the house-elves stood immobile and quiet as statues. Then, a loud wailing broke loose: "Oh, the shame, the shame. We have failed the noble house of Gryffindor. Oh, the shame."

Aisha tapped the shoulder of one of the house-elves. He was one of the few wearing something resembling clothes, rather than a tea-towel toga, and if Aisha wasn't mistaken, he was the one possessing the most sense of the whole raving lot. Right now, he was the only one who had stopped wailing after the first few utterances, while the others were still emitting loud, uncoordinated noises of dismay.

"Please," Aisha asked him, "I am so sorry about what happened. Tell me what I can do to make it up to you."

"Mistress need not worry," the house-elf replied, his ears hanging limply by the side of his head. Aisha noticed the worries in his over-large, protruding eyes as he glanced over at his companions. "It is nothing," he said.

"But they are all so distressed," Aisha insisted, "and it was all my fault. Please, there has to be something I can do."

"Mistress need not worry," the house-elf repeated. "It is the custom of house-elves to be distressed if they fails their masters, and our master has always been excessively kind to us. Never, in many years, has house-elves failed to bring a meal onto the table in time in this honourable castle."

Aisha noticed that the other house-elves had stopped wailing; now they were shouting out suggestions to each other.

"Shut our ears in the oven door," one cried.

"Nothing new," murmured others.

"Sit ourselves down on the fork stand," another house-elf suggested.

"Unhygienic, and the forks might bend," someone else contradicted.

"Topple down from the top of the stairs," a voice shouted out.

"Fetch potatoes out of boiling water with our bare hands," someone suggested.

"Wack ourselves with the brooms and mops," another piped.

"Clean the boys' toilets," Aisha thought she had heard, too, but perhaps she had been mistaken. Aghast, she turned to the house-elf wearing a jumper and socks.

"What are they doing?" she asked.

"Oh, they is only discussing how we should punish ourselves for tonight's failure," the house-elf replied as if the proceedings around them were completely normal.

"But it was my fault," Aisha suggested. "If anyone has to shut her ears in the oven door, it should be me." She shuddered at the mere thought, but was sure it was a safe offer.

"Mistress need not worry," the house-elf repeated. "Mistress is human, and we is only house-elves. If house-elves fail, house-elves punish themselves, no matter whose fault it is. Fault is not the point with house-elves. Wizards are masters, and house-elves is servants, that's how the world is ordered."

"But I'm not a witch, I'm only a Muggle," Aisha insisted. "Please, please don't punish yourselves. Please, let me do something to make it up to you. I would never sleep again in my whole life if you punished yourselves for my stupid mistake."

"Mistress need not worry," the house-elf said again, as if it was a mantra. "Humans needs not feel guilt about house-elves' punishment. House-elves is servant, and wizard is master."

Knowing it would shock the deferent little creatures, Aisha lowered herself onto her knees and wrung her hands. "It is the custom of Muggles to pay for their own mistakes, so I would worry," she said, her voice pleading, the lie ringing in her ears. She knew loads of Muggles who knew of no such custom. "I would never stop worrying if you hurt yourselves for this. Please, if you do not accept my apology, if you punish yourselves for my clumsiness, you will punish me much more than if you let me shut my ears in the oven door."

The other house-elves had gathered around her in a circle; they were staring at her. "Please, mistress, your ears is too short for that," a voice piped up from behind her.

"Then let me do something useful to make it up to you," Aisha said. "Let me do the lowliest work you can imagine - clean, for example. Maybe I could make it up to these poor kids who had to wait for their meal today by cleaning their rooms. Oh please, say that you will let me do this, that you will let me repay my debt - as a Muggle, I could never live with the guilt."

As she mentioned the Gryffindors' hardship of waiting for their food for five minutes, the general wailing re-emerged among the house-elves. However, she saw the clothed house-elf nod.

"If it hurts you to see us punish ourselves, you can forbid it, Mistress" he advised her softly. "And if you really insists, you can clean Gryffindor Tower with us for a couple of mornings. Goodness knows it can do with extra cleaning."

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It turned out to be a good thing that Aisha had agreed to help clean Gryffindor Tower more than once. Getting her hands on the Invisibility Cloak was not as easy as she had hoped, especially as Dobby, as the clothed house-elf was called, hardly ever let her out of sight. She was not sure if he mistrusted her or if he did not want her to overwork herself, but he was always there, doing the larger share of the work.

Knowing which dormitory was the correct one was not difficult: Dobby told her the very first morning where 'the famous, generous and kind Harry Potter' slept, and which trunk was his. The ugly little house-elf seemed to adore the boy. This meant that Aisha had to be extra-careful: Dobby would not tolerate her stealing from his idol.

On the fourth morning, however, Aisha saw a chance: Due to a particularly soiled boys' toilet set between the dormitory of the fifth and the sixth year, they had run out of Magical Mess Remover. Dobby told her he would run to get some, apologising for his inability to Summon it by magic. Aisha just nodded, but as soon as he was gone, she slipped into the empty dormitory of the sixth years. Checking quickly that all its inhabitants were at their classes and that the room was empty, she deftly opened Harry's trunk. There, under a pile of robes and a disarray of socks and jumpers, her searching fingers discovered the smooth, flowing texture she remembered so well. Carefully, she pulled out the Cloak and stuffed it under her overlarge sweatshirt, where two rubber bands strapped around her body were waiting to hold the Cloak in place.

Aisha closed the trunk and reached for the broom to sweep the floor of the dormitory. Her heart was beating frantically. Suddenly, her conscience raised its voice in her head, reminding her that it was wrong to steal, and even more wrong to steal from children.

Lupin needed the Cloak more than Harry, she justified her action. Harry had given the Cloak to his godfather, who, in turn, had given it to Lupin, she told herself; therefore, Harry himself might even give the Cloak to Lupin if he knew how badly it was needed. Anyway, surely Lupin would return the Cloak to Harry in time; it was not as if she was depriving the boy of his valued possession for good.

Sweeping the floor with deft strokes, she tried to chase away the very unpleasant feeling that she was doing something wrong. She must not look guilty when Dobby returned, she reminded herself. Instead of dwelling on her misgivings, she imagined the look she would see on Lupin's face when she gave him the Cloak. Surely, he would take her more seriously now.

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