Obliviate

Chapter Three

It was quickly becoming colder in the hills of Scotland, but inside Hogwarts, it was warm and inviting. The first light snow had come, and Maeve and Tom were in the library by a crackling fire.

On one of the desks was a copy of The Daily Prophet someone left behind. The front page read:

GRINDEWALD GATHERING MORE SUPPORT AS NUMEROUS MUGGLE GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS GO MISSING

Maeve glanced at the headline, thinking of her Father.

Gellert Grindelwald was an older wizard who had gathered a large following based on his ideology that Wizards, not Muggles, deserved to be in power and not a secret to the world. This idea appealed to many witches and wizards who had spent their lives in hiding, and it appealed to her Father as well.

Ambrose Sinclair backed Grindelwald financially, as did many Pureblood families, but Maeve had little interest in politics and knew better than to get her father rambling about it.

"Will you be participating in the first duel tomorrow night?" Tom asked Maeve, bringing her out of her thoughts,

"Oh, no," said Maeve. "That's not exactly my thing."

"Have you ever dueled before?"

"Plenty. I grew up with it, and it's just. . . not my thing."

Tom scrunched his face. "That's odd."

Maeve shrugged.

"No," said Tom cooly. "Don't shrug it off. I want to know why."

Maeve sighed. "I don't know why."

Tom was quiet, clearly thinking. "I think I do."

Maeve raised her eyebrows.

Tom continued. "I think you aren't good at it, and that's why you don't like it."

Maeve couldn't help but laugh at the accuracy with which Tom had just called her out.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he smirked.

"You're not wrong," relented Maeve.

"Your sister, Ariana, was quite good. I take it you never beat her at home?"

Maeve laughed again. "She loves to torture me come dueling time."

Tom ran his fingers through his hair. "That is very interesting."

"Can we go back to studying, please?" Maeve pulled her book towards her.

Tom whisked it away.

"You grew up dueling, and you've never won? Not once?"

"Why is this so important to you?"

"Because you're a better witch than your sister in every regard imaginable. I cannot fathom how someone so good at charms and spell casting wouldn't be an amazing fighter."

Maeve was flustered. Had he just complimented her? Tom's stare was intense as Maeve regained her composure.

Tom's voice quieted. "I suppose I'm curious how that came to be. Surely your Father has tried to teach you?"

Maeve smiled softly. "Many times."

Tom's head cocked to the side. "And?"

"And," said Maeve, "something doesn't click."

"Hmm," said Tom. "How old were you when you started dueling?"

"Oh, for as long as I can remember, actually."

"Arianna is, what, three years your senior?"

Maeve nodded.

"Still, that's enough for her to have quite the leg up on you as children. And if the cycle never broke. . . "