The Dying Pact

Oh, and credits are at the end of the chapter. ^0^

*

I’m so tired but I can’t sleep

Standin’ on the edge of something much too deep

It’s funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word

We are screaming inside, but we can’t be heard

~ I Will Remember You, Sarah McLachlan ~

The sun was setting slowly. It seemed to burn hotly right through the skin. But she was lying perfectly still on her unfixed bed with her unkempt hair flowing all over the pillow. She was having a bad headache and was either too lazy or tired to do anything about it. She didn’t know how many hours had gone. For the past few hours, she kept open her bloodshot eyes; just watching the free clouds flew right through the window. She was envious of them, those white puffy clouds. They could go freely to whatever places they want; overlooked by the people it passed. But wait, they were not totally free. They were still chained to the path of the wind. Whichever way the wind would go, the cloud would be directed. So, they are not totally free, she mused. She smirked, as another stupid thought inserted her head. Speaking of her head, she groaned as she remembered her fucking headache. What to do, what to do. Damn, choices again. Decisions, decisions. Think. But I don’t want to think. I’m sick and tired of thinking. I don’t want to…

She didn’t want to face anyone, especially them. She was so irritated already of their petty argument that she couldn’t stand it anymore. So, with an angry rebuke, she walked away from them, with Ron’s shouts at her left raging behind her heels. That was probably the worst fight they ever had. She didn’t know if they could be together again. As friends.

And that hurt. It not only sting but hurt like hell.

Minutes later, after contemplating endlessly about the stupid confrontation, she heard a knock from her door. She groaned. Instead of answering it, she just closed her eyes, thinking that if she didn’t respond, whoever was it would hopefully go away.

Man, she was wrong. The person on the outside kept on knocking continuously which irritated the hell out of her. She picked up her pillow and put it over her head trying to block whatever possible sound out of her clearly disturbed mind.

"Hermione?" she heard the voice from the other side called out.

She remained silent.

"Mione?" it called again.

"What?" she asked, but her voice was probably muffled by the pillow.

"May I come in?" she recognized that voice.

"Why?"

"May I come in?" she repeated, ignoring the twinge of annoyance in Hermione’s voice.

Hermione just sighed, already distinguishing the persistent person on the other side of the door. Trinity Order came in without hesitation and carefully made her way to Hermione’s bed. She sat down at the edge of her bed and stared at the occupant. For a few minutes, neither spoke. Trin finally broke the unerring silence.

"How are you doing?" she asked softly. Honestly, she didn’t expect for a response but was surprised when Hermione answered.

"Hell," she grunted or so Trin heard. She barely caught what the other girl said for her voice was hoarse and her head was still covered by the pillow. She decided to change her original plan for she was suspecting that Mione did not want to speak about what had happened.

"You didn’t eat your dinner. The others will carry your food here," Trin said, avoiding on going to the topic.

"O’Blaire asked where are you when she didn’t saw you anywhere seated at the Gryffindor table during dinner. We said you are quite sick so you resumed in your room earlier than intended," she continued while still staring at the lying girl. She stood up and walked around Hermione’s own room.

She stopped right in front of Mione’s desk, which was filled with various books, parchments, quills, and her wand. Beside it was her uniform robe, draped over a chair. On the other side of her desk, pinned to the wall, was a small message board full of attached papers. Trin smirked. All of the small notes were of school reminders: Mione’s class schedule from Monday to Friday, the date of the next visit to Hogsmeade, her schedule of the Prefects’ meeting, etc. All her life, Hermione must be the most organized and obsessed-to-lists person she knew.

She also saw a mirror on the other side of the room. Through the sides of it, stuck were moving pictures of Hermione, Harry, and Ron. There was this picture of them in the Gryffindor common room with Ginny, Fred, and George. All the waving Weasley’s had this signature of red hair and freckles that made them very distinguishable from the crowd. Another picture was taken outside one shop in Diagon Alley. Harry, being in the center, had his arms wounded around his two best friends. All were grinning like a Cheshire cat. There were many other pictures of them either stuck or pasted in the mirror. Only two of them differed from the others. One picture had the three of them immovable with a huge mansion on the background. This must be taken outside the wizarding world, probably at Mione’s house with the use of a Muggle camera, as she remembered Jinx telling her about some of the Muggle equipment. And the other one was of four of them—her, Jinky, Miles, and Mione—all smiling mischievously and then laughing and then making ugly faces. Trin smiled as she clearly remembered the moment when all of them had been entitled to become…

"What do you want?" Hermione suddenly asked that Trin jumped a little. She turned around to see that Mione had removed the pillow and was now staring at her with that red shot eyes of hers.

"I just want to see how you are doing," she shrugged.

"Well for the record, I have a fucking headache that seems to break up my skull. Then there is this damn heat flowing all over my body, which only burdened to the intolerable torridity in this hell-like fucking room. And then finally, I always have to remember that damn showdown with the two most stubborn and stupid gits I ever met. Quite a day huh?" she answered flatly.

Trin mentally kicked herself. Damn. And I thought I’m not going to mention it until she is better. She sighed and walked over to her. She stood at the edge of the bed and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I cannot say anything but I am sorry about what happened," she said, carefully measuring her words.

She looked away from Trin’s gaze. "Yeah," she said softly. "I’m sorry too."

"How are you doing?" she asked, unaware that she had only repeated her question earlier.

There was total silence. Only the sound of the light breeze filling in the hot room could be heard. The curtains fluttered.

"How am I doing?" Hermione repeated the question, staring blankly at the ceiling, which was full of Magic Lights’ Forever Glow Stars (stars that would start to glow in the dark when the sun sets until the first rays of the sun would appear), as she was still lying in her bed, absentmindedly twirling her hair. "How am I doing? I…I don’t know."

"Bad?" Trin suggested. "It’ll pass."

"Maybe. Yeah, the torturous feeling will pass. But the memory will not. It will always remain scalded in my mind."

"I know it is very painful for you. Seeing your best friends fight—"

"Yeah. And seeing that the…friendship everyone thought was long lasting was… nothing would be the same again," she said in a voice where, Trin suspected, the real grief was hidden.

"Maybe it will all come back to normal. You know, the three of you used to fight and fight over senseless reasons but, well, you get together again as if nothing happened," she said, hoping to get the usual optimism twinkle in those badly hunted eyes.

"No, I don’t think so."

"You might think wrong," Trin persisted. With that, Hermione paused and looked thoughtful for a while.

"Yes. Yes, you are right. I am wrong," Hermione said. Trin exhaled in relief. Finally, she had knocked some sense into her friend’s head. She thought Mione’s going to be—

"I know so."

"What?"

"I just don’t think so. I know. I know in the depths of my soul and mind that nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever happen again because nothing will ever be shared between the three of us again," she said with a hurtful note of finality.

"Don’t be so sure."

She shook her head. " No, I know so, I know so!"

Hermione closed her eyes. She fought the urge to break down and cry all over again but she swore with her hot-painted room as her witness that she would never cry again, regretting their lost friendship. Yes, they will not be friends again. Ever. The thought of it just made her heart grip in pain, though she was not entirely sure why. Maybe because I’m regretting of our lost companionship? Or maybe because of the damn words they have spitted out. She didn’t know. This time, she was not sure of anything anymore.

A lone tear escaped her eye unconsciously. She bit her lip. She clenched her tangled bed sheet in closed fists. Her tongue tasted blood. She opened her eyes. She gazed again at Trinity, her eyes crying in silent pain.

"I hate this," she whispered weakly.

"I know you do honey," Trin said softly as she sat on the bed and gathered the small woman in her arms, letting her sympathy be shown in her black eyes. Hermione tried to sit up and wounded her arms around Trin’s neck, clinging for some left life and hope, ignoring the dizziness and the feeling of swirling in the room. "I hope with all my heart that I can do at least something for you. But I cannot. Face this, Mione. That’s probably the best I could give you. Running away won’t do anything more than it is hurting you. But you’ll not be alone in this journey. We are going to be here for you," she soothed softly as she smoothed Ione’s back for compassion. "We’re going to help you."

Hermione savored the warmth Trin was giving her. She wondered how much those comforting, simple words, words that could have come out of anybody else’s mouth, consoled her. She realized she needed help, whether she liked to admit it or not. She needed the care and acceptance again, knowing that she might not feel it again towards…

Hermione nodded her head. She looked back at Trin’s trusting eyes and smiled a little. Once again, after the hours of living in torture of the bad memories of their fight, somehow, she felt cared for. Again. She only hoped it would last long.

"Thank you."

Trin smirked. "Anytime. For any bitchy situations like this, you can count on me. I’m an expert."

Hermione chuckled. She remembered how cool and…well, bitchy Trinity Order was, a huge contrast from her current position as the Head Girl of Hogwarts. "Yeah, I almost forgot how bitchy you can be," she paused. "Forgive me thy Mistress, for I am but only a mere peasant drowning in lost faith and deep sorrow. I cannot, in any possible means, know thy ways of life and fate. Therefore, I bow before thee, oh Goddess of Bitches, and let thy wisdom and knowledge fill this despaired soul."

They both laughed. The sound of Mione’s laughter relieved Trin a little. She only hoped it would continue.

"You are learning, my dear," Trin said, mimicking a certain Ancient Literature teacher. Ione chortled. "May the power of the Nature be upon thee and never waver from its strong pillar that has gathered in thy soul."

Ione smiled. "I do hope so milady."

Trin grinned, knowing that somehow she had re-ignited the usual flicker of hope and strength in her friend. And this time, she was sure of it.

*

"So now what?! It’s now my fault? My fucking fault?!?" Ron practically shouted at Harry, incredulously. "I saved your fucking ass out there!"

"Damn I know that but what the hell are you saying Ron? I didn’t say anything like that, not even close!" Harry said angrily. He couldn’t understand Ron. For the first time in his life, he was utterly lost with his best friend. And he did not like every second of this.

.

"Of course you didn’t say anything like that Harry. Yes, now why the hell would Harry, the Legendary Hero, say anything like that! Or more precisely, how could the Hero do anything like that stupid and to his ‘best friend’ yet," Ron said, making the quote sign with his hands as he said the word best friend. He obviously emphasized that word. Best friend.

"What are you talking about Ron?" Harry asked him, his voice getting lethal. He took a dangerous step closer to him.

"You know what the hell I’m talking about," Ron replied in the same tone. He too took a step.

"C’mon Ron. Use your damn common sense," Ron’s jaw clenched as Harry said this. "Would I be asking if I know?"

Some snickered at the remark.

"It’s all about you isn’t it?" Ron replied, shaking his head in obvious disgust. "Everything is just about you. The sun is Harry Potter and the planets rotate around him."

Harry suddenly knocked Ron squarely in the face, tossing them both into a brawl.

"Ouch! Man, that hurts! Are you really trying to kill me or something?" Ron asked, agitated. He jerked his head away, carefully touching the injury in his face near the left eye. "Guess you’re happy doing this huh?"

"Shut your big mouth up, Ron. And for your information, it’s your doing not mine! You should know the consequences before getting yourself in with a fight," Ginny Weasley said in a manner very much like her mother. She and Ron were sitting in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room and in her hand was a pack of cold ice. But it seemed like she too was gonna have a showdown with her stubborn brother, trying to put it into his black and blue marked face. "And with Harry at that!"

This time, Ron really yanked the ice away. "Oh great. Now, the last thing I want is a sister who’s in side with my so-called friend now turned foe. Fine, go to him for all I care! He can do with those fucking ice of yours."

"I’m trying to help ok?!" Ginny said, putting down the ice for a moment. "Look, I didn’t mean to say it like that. I mean…"

She tried to put the pack to Ron’s bruise again.

"Ow! Ginny!"

"Sorry," she muttered. She continued, "I mean to say, he’s your best friend. Why doubt that?"

"Are we back to that again?" Ron asked, completely irritated with everyone. The squabble was obviously the center of everyone’s attention. At least for Gryffindors only. Hopefully.

"I’ll put the ice myself," he got the pack out of Ginny’s hands. He carefully put it into his bruises, trying not to wince. Shit. This is just as bad as being hit by a bludger.

"I don’t understand you, the both of you."

"Just leave it ok?" Ron said more like ending the conversation. He just wanted to give everything a break.

"I wonder how Herm is doing," she said softly. "She must be feeling really bad."

Ron paused for a moment. He remembered Hermione. The way she said those words hit something on him. Hard. It pulled a string inside him, suddenly concerned for Herm. Guilty? He paused, remembering her—

Shut up Ron. You don’t want to go there again.

It was her fault anyway. She should have stayed out of this. She might be hanging around him if she did. Or…hanging around Harry the way they did during the Triwizard Tournament.

See? It’s all about Harry. He who spends a name with fame always gets the larger prize. I shouldn’t be guilty or anything close to that.

"Why don’t you just go to Madame Pomfrey? It’ll be a lot easier," Ginny suggested, breaking his thoughts, which, to him, were senseless.

"Being the center of every Gryffindor’s attention is alright for me and I owe it to the fucking riot. Thanks, but no thanks. I think it is already enough," Ron said to Ginny, who was looking at him in slight concern. "Maybe you could ask Scar Head for that. I heard he thoroughly enjoys too much attraction."

"Stop that bullshit Ron," Ginny suddenly refuted, surprising Ron. He never heard his little sister snap a piece of shit word, not even once. "You know that that is not true," she paused, as if not sure of herself if she should be saying this. "If I know better you’re jealous of him."

"Well, you obviously don’t know better. I’m not jealous of him," Ron snapped, turning some heads towards their direction. He noticed this and lowered his voice. "Why would I? I certainly don’t like the feeling of being everyone’s little doggie. The cute and adorable cootie."

Ginny just stared at his brother, her mouth hanging open. She never imagined that Ron would say something like that. And to his best friend! She knew her brother. Ron could be very tactless at times and insensitive but now she was not quite sure on him. She shook her head. "Who are you Ron? I suddenly don’t know you."

He stood up and angrily threw the pack of ice at the table. "Maybe because you never knew me at all."

He turned and headed towards the boys’ dormitory leaving Ginny staring after his retreating back, confusion and sympathy written all over her face.

*

I'm on the outside - I'm looking in

I can see through you - see your true colors

Cause inside you're ugly - ugly like me

I can see through you - see to the real you

~ Outside, Aaron Lewis and Fred Durst ~

He never really expected that to happen. No, not once in his lifetime. But the blood staining his face and the front of his robe was enough proof of what had just happened a few hours ago. He shook his head. Maybe all this time, he never really knew his friend at all. Maybe, with every second they had spent together, he never really did understand him, who he was practically considering as his own brother. So all this time, he had been wasting his damn time with a phony bloke. Damn. Why didn’t I see this coming? Because I’m so stupid and blind to sense anything wrong. His deep green eyes suddenly soured with incense. He never felt betrayed by anyone more than anything in this world did. Now, wait a minute. It’s not entirely my fault. If only that dumb ass wouldn’t keep on hiding himself behind my back then maybe nothing like this would have happened. Then he would blame me for something I’m not responsible for?!? To hell with him.

"Hey Harry," Seamus Finnigan broke in to his foul thoughts, saving him from savoring his ideas on how to get even with a certain Gryffindor Beater. "You alright?"

Oh yes of course Finnigan, Seamus scolded himself, suddenly remembering what they had been there for. Stupid.

"No," Harry replied automatically. "Damn right I’m not."

Seamus felt dumb. He just sighed and fell silent.

"I never thought your two friends would do something like that," Andrew Pitts said as if disbelieving. He shook his head for more emphasis.

Ken Milano agreed. "Yeah. I mean, man, they must be out of their minds to be saying things like that. People. Sometimes you really don’t fully know them even if we thought we do."

Harry stared at his three companions. He was glad somebody sided on him. It would really be a total humiliation if no one did. He smiled a little, feeling the dark bruised spots in his face pinched. Ouch. But whatever they say to him, a gnawing feeling slowly grew inside him. All would be different now. He was not sure if the three of them would be the same again towards each other. A sudden empty space filled inside. Cold.

"Hey, tomorrow’s the Hogsmeade Day isn’t it? I heard that there’s gonna be a huge performance by a band. Too bad they won’t tell anybody who’s it gonna be," Andrew made a face.

"Well there’s this big rumor going on the other day," Seamus said. "Some says the Purple Sorceress is going to be there while other argues that the Black Razor Band—"

"No," Andrew intercepted. "According to what I have heard, a new—"

"We’re gonna see it anyway. It’s better not to know anything until the day itself," Ken butted in.

Seamus and Andrew rolled their eyes. Typical Ken.

"Hogsmeade Day, huh," Harry mused aloud. His eyes were staring at space but none of the three seemed to notice Harry’s peculiarity. They were busy arguing over that most awaited day; who’s going with whom, what’s going to be, how’s it going to be. Obviously, Andrew was the most excited about tomorrow.

"Remember last year when…"

"I should have expected this is going to happen," Hermione said, irritated. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was looking with disgust at the wild crowd in front of the magically made stage where the Wicked Witches were playing.

"Hm?" Harry asked Hermione, not turning his head away from the band. He didn’t see her rolled her eyes. But Ron did. Unaware of the two, he was discreetly watching Hermione from the moment she came out of the girls’ dorm back at the Common Room.

"What are you expecting Herm? A throng of people standing foolishly with their eyes twinkling stars at the 60’s Universe (1) while they were humming a stupid ‘All for One Wizards and Witches’?" Ron snorted.

Hermione’s irritation turned to Ron. Her eyes igniting fire. "I didn’t say that. I’m not that dense, Ron. And certainly I’m not born yesterday. What I’m trying to say and obviously you are not quite getting it is that—"

"Yeah, yeah," Ron cut her off. "Yada yada yada. Lemme guess. You are going to say…" he pretended to think. "Oh yes, right. That I’m completely correct about you being so spoilsport and I bet that you would have preferred staying at the library than being here in Hogsmeade Day while everyone were out enjoying the goodness and beauty of life!"

If only dagger looks could kill, Ron would be dead meat by now. But he just smiled. "And I almost forgot. You are also about to say how good I am at predicting—"

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione hissed. Her temper was in dangerous grounds.

"What? No preaches from the maiden Hermione?" Ron retorted. "And I thought you’re the genius Herm!"

Harry finally took away his gaze from the stage. He sensed danger. "Uh, Ron…"

"What are you trying to imply Ronald Weasley?" Hermione unknowingly clenched her fists.

‘Uh oh. This is not good. She said Ron’s full name,’ Harry thought, looking back and forth at Herm and Ron.

Ron shrugged. "I thought you said you were not born yesterday Herm. Can’t guess? Admit it that I’m right."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Are you saying that I’m NOT enjoying MY life?!"

"Hermione…Ron? Don’t you think that this is not the proper place and time—"

"Umm…not really. All I wanted to say is that you should stop being wallpaper—"

But Ron never did finish his sentence. Hermione’s fist was true to its target, right at Ron’s face.

The people surrounding them gasped and gaped at the surprised Ron, who stumbled on few people, his face painted with shock. They encircled the three and decided to watch the spectacle than the rocking band.

"Ron, are you alright?" Harry asked his best friend who was also surprised by Hermione’s punch. Ron, still looking dazed, covered his bloodied nose with his hand.

"What did you do that for?!?" Ron demanded at Hermione. He could feel blood coming out of his nose. ‘Damn it. I would really hate her if she broke my fucking nose."

"You should be more careful at what you are saying Ron Weasley," Hermione answered heatedly.

"What? What did I say?"

Hermione looked like she was going to punch Ron again so Harry placed himself between the two.

"Can we settle this down somewhere else?" Harry asked patiently. He didn’t like the way they were attracting audience. "C’mon," he said as he lead them near the side of an old shop, where only several people pass by.

"What do you really want to say Ron?" Hermione asked. She appeared to be finally composed but her voice was still tensed with tension.

"Damn it Hermione," Ron cursed, backing away from her. "If you are really dying for my explanation you should have waited for me to finish."

She didn’t answer back. She was looking away, and again, her gaze averted to the jam-packed stage.

"Where the hell did you learn that?" Ron suddenly asked. Hermione turned her head, scrutinizing him.

"Hey, just asking," Ron said defensively, thinking that she might hit him again.

Hermione, seeing Ron’s obvious defensiveness, sighed. "I attended kick-boxing last summer."

Ron looked blankly. He hated it when Harry and Hermione say out-of-this-world things and he couldn’t relate.

"It’s like a defense class," Harry filled for him. "Why didn’t you tell us you were taking kick-boxing classes?"

Hermione raised her eyebrow. "I told you on the very first day of school."

They both stared at her blankly.

"Remember? This year? I told you at the carriage?" Hermione persisted. When the two looked at each other, as if they were lost with Hermione, she rolled her eyes. A habit she had perfected the moment she became hooked with them.

"Never mind."

Harry said to Ron, "Looks like Madame Pomfrey would have a fit again by your…"

"Children! You are so careless! Why do you always want to be in trouble will always remain a mystery to me," Madame Pomfrey fussed as she basically forced Harry to drink the disgusting green slime. "Be a good boy now Harry. I don’t tolerate hard-headed kids."

"Eww," Andrew said when the school nurse was out of earshot. She muttered something about a certain herb before going in to a room. "That sure looks and smells awful, man."

"Shut up Drew."

"Harry?"

Harry turned pale after he swallowed the ‘medicine’. He gulped. "Water," he stammered weakly as he reached for the glass of water on the table beside him. He gobbled down the water as if he stayed in the desert for a year. He nearly choked when the door suddenly opened and saw who it was.

Cho.

She looked at Harry curiously and…awkwardly. Then she walked in to where Madame Pomfrey went.

"I don’t know why’d you let go of someone so popular and pretty as that. And she’s a Prefect!" Drew said, still staring at the closed door where Cho went in.

"Shut up. We’re history," Harry snapped. He didn’t want to talk about her.

Drew shook his head. "You are crazy, dude. I would give up everything…well, almost everything…just to be in your place with her."

"DREW!" Seamus and Ken exclaimed.

Harry glared at him. "One more word…"

"Ok, ok," Drew said, bringing up his hands in mock surrender.

Just then, the door opened and Cho and Madame Pomfrey went out. They paused and talked more in low voices. Harry and the others couldn’t hear a thing they were saying. Finally, Cho nodded and walked away, avoiding Harry’s gaze.

"You," Madame Pomfrey turned to Harry. "You can go now. After a good sleep those dark marks of yours and that broken nose will heal and be gone. Now off you go."

They stood up and started towards the door.

"Oh, and," Madame Pomfrey added. "Do be more careful. I wouldn’t like to see you here back again any sooner, Mr. Potter. I think you have just rivaled the Weasley twins for the Most Accident-prone Student this year."

*

"I bet on 50 Sickles and 16 Galleons, this is the oldest room in Hogwarts," Remus suggested in awe.

"Wow," James admired while gazing at a worn out figurine of a petite lady who had her eyes closed while crying, tears flowing down silently.

"What’s the deal with all these?" Sirius asked nonchalantly. He stood at the center of the ancient room, full of cobwebs and weird old things. The floor was even covered by accumulated dust like thick snow in the streets. The windows were nailed in woods and the curtains were torn and filthy. "As I see it these are all but pieces of junks Dumbledore obviously consider as trashes."

"They are not just ‘junks’, Padfoot," Remus objected. In his hand was a small wooden disk carved like sun. "They are rare antiquated treasures, riches like no other."

"I wonder why they are all here, just stock in an invisible room," James said.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "That’s why they are here, because they are obviously of no use. And besides what would we benefit from these?"

"You are being unromantic again Padfoot," Remus teased. He was still clutching the disk.

Sirius snorted. Before he could retort anything else, James said, "That’s why you’re the only living Gryffindor around who has yet to catch any girlfriend. You’re very unromantic."

James and Remus laughed.

"Me having no girlfriend yet is besides the point and none of your nosy business," Sirius defended. "Anyway, what’s the deal with being enamored by these with being romantic?"

Remus shook his head. But before he could say anything, a loud voice suddenly yelled.

Sirius laughed. He clearly remembered that night as he was holding the sun disk.

"Why are you laughing?" a voice asked behind him. He knew that voice even before he saw her standing across the table.

"I just remembered something," he answered as he walked around the table and stood directly in front of her.

Ashleigh O’Blaire raised her eyebrow in question. "Care to share?"

He held up the sun disk for her to see.

"What’s that?"

"Moony found this out in the invisible room we discovered, one night in our 3^rd year," he replied as he let Ashleigh hold it. "But of all the lucks in the world, that annoying Filch caught us. As you know, students aren’t supposed to roam around the school beyond the curfew. Damn rules."

"What were you doing there anyway if you knew you’re past the curfew hours?"

"Well thanks for the lecture Madame, I really need it now you know," Sirius said sarcastically.

"You know the consequences well enough so—"

"Ok, ok. We…well…we…"

"You…?"

"You know us already! You know very well that we live by breaking the rules. That’s what we are famous for," Sirius broke his signature boyish grin.

"Humph. What are you so happy about going against the rules anyway?"

Sirius just shrugged. "I dunno. But you know what?"

He stepped a little closer to her.

"What?"

Their faces were inches away.

"I discovered the most important principle I have ever known during our naughty Hogwarts life."

"And that is?"

"Students live by the rules and that is by violating them. That’s why rules are implemented."

"For the students to break them?" Ashleigh asked, somewhat lost.

"Yeah. I mean rules restrict the children, right? And because of that, their curiosity heightens and their lust for finding out beyond what is withheld from them elevates. Rules are not only for obeying and discipline. Rules are also for fun. Rules are for adventures. As what I quote, and mind you I made this one myself, what is forbidden is more enjoyable and tempting than what is virtuous."

Ashleigh smirked. "Quite a principle there."

Sirius smiled widely, clearly proud of his axiom.

"Where’s Remus?"

And his broad grin quickly vanished. His merry eyes were replaced with worry and wariness. He looked at the sun disk that Ashleigh was still holding.

"He went out again?"

He nodded. "The problem is, he didn’t tell again where he was going. I don’t know why but…"

"He’ll be alright. He’s the best Auror I have ever known in my entire life."

But he didn’t reply. He got the sun disk from her and stared at it long and hard.

"Sirius?"

"I don’t know, Ash. Something bothers me about this new mission."

"Do you know what it is?"

"No," Sirius responded. "And that what makes me uneasy."