Vengeance| Harry Potter

twenty-two. coded correspondence

-CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO-
~coded correspondence~

THE FLOWING WARMTH from the common room fire spread steadily through the air to mix with the rambunctious chatter. Ron and Hermione were arguing about something that Viola had long since lost track of. Then again, she had lost track of most things, exhaustion as heavy as bricks pulling her eyelids as she tried to keep them open and focus on the textbook in her lap.

None of her attempts to remain alert, however, were proving to be all that fruitful. In fact, her grip on the book had loosened and her page was near lost. Her eyes had given in to the weight and shut, and her head had slowly lolled to the side until finally it landed on Harry's shoulder; he didn't move away, as some small part of her brain thought he might, but shifted a little so that she could be more comfortable. The noises around her faded from distinct words to low buzzes of incomprehensible chatter as she slowly succumbed to the whisper of sleep that was calling her name.

It didn't last very long. Her jamble of a dream was soon interrupted by Harry gently nudging her awake.

She sat back up again, ignoring the desire to just lie back down against him, rubbing hard at her eyes with the palm of her hands as if able to wipe the exhaustion away. A murmur slipped from her mouth that may have been a "What?" but she wasn't quite sure.

"You've got a letter," said Harry quietly.

"A letter?" she repeated, blinking to adjust to the light. "I — it's not morning already, is it?"

"No," said Hermione, who had just come back from the window, "you've only been asleep for about fifteen minutes. It must be something important if it's sent this late."

Viola took the letter from her outstretched hand. It certainly looked important, she realised, after taking a glance at the curly handwriting. Someone else might have thought it official — maybe something from Gringotts or the Ministry. But it barely took Viola a second to dismiss all of those ideas. No matter how annoying her little brother was, she knew him and his half-pretentious, half-childish scrawl.

The seal on the envelope had already been torn open, no doubt by Umbridge or a member of her Inquisitorial Squad. Viola's heart sped up at the sight — If Edwin had put something bad in here, something secretive...

There was only one way to check.

Viola,
Yes, it is I, Edwin. I thought I had better remind you, because it seems as though you have forgotten about me. Either that, or you have finally perished and not been able to send me any letters back.
Assuming that you did, in fact, receive my previous letter, I know you are aware of my curiosity. I find it quite rude that you do not consider me important enough to confide in.
I hate that it has come to this, but you leave me no choice.
Viola, you will either inform me as to what is going on, or I will brief mother about that baby picture escapade you had me perform. I am aware of the infantile nature of blackmail, but it is you that led me to this path. I do not like being left in the dark.
You have one week to send me a response, no more, no less.
Please write to me and then fall out of a window,
Edwin.