Knowledge is Power

Chapter 68

When Mag returned to Hogwarts that evening she had a headache. It turned out Areecen had some very old magic books in his cave and he was allowing her to read and categorize them. They were old enough to require translation charms to read and looking at the translated writing overlaying the original text for too long was a strain on the eyes. The books were fascinating chronicles of spell crafting, alchemy and magical creatures, though, so she was going to absorb every word if it took the next ten years. Today she'd read a third of a book on crafting weather spells, and her mind was toying with the idea of adapting them for other purposes.

When Severus entered his bedchamber, he carried a plate of food for her.
"I didn't even have to have you another made today. You got mine. I ate at Durmstrang and was too full to do it again so I just pushed the food around a little and saved it for you."

"Thanks," Mag said, standing to kiss him as she eagerly took the plate.
"Any food you've pushed around for half an hour is surely more tasty than if it hadn't been graced by your presence."
Severus snorted and she chuckled. She settled down at the desk to eat and he flopped into an arm chair in the corner with a sigh.

"I hate everyone," he complained.
"So nothing new today, then," she asked with another smile.
So excited was she about Areecen's cash of books that her mood was ecstatic and excitable.

"Oh plenty of newness today, just nothing at all cheering," Severus said, ignoring her rare levity.
"Potter appears to be skipping school. How we're going to turn him into a decent wizard practically over night without his being here is beyond me."

Mag choked on a bite of potato.
"You're kidding."
Green eyes wide with shock, she lowered her fork and turned in her chair to regard Severus.
"I kid once a year, and I think that happened last month when I said I was excited to know Sekhmet was coming for Christmas," Severus snarked dryly.
Mag's lips twitched.
"Really, though...for how long? How long is he going to be MIA and is he allowed to do that under Voldemort's new rule?"

"Of course he isn't, but like his father he doesn't follow rules well if at all," Severus said acidly.
He didn't care that breaking Voldemort's rules could, in some cases, be wise because he was Voldemort. He cared that Harry Potter was screwing up again and as usual other people would pay for it. Did the prat care? Obviously not. He was too stupid and shallow to even conceive of what he was doing. He was selfish. He was careless, unwise, and if they were very unlucky, he would be the reason Voldemort won.

"He likely won't return because of that very fact. Because he is breaking what is currently Ministry law by refusing to attend school."
He sighed.
"At least we have Grindelwald if he gets killed."
Mag nodded, giving a faint smile.
"I was just thinking that."

"What are you going to do," she asked, turning back to her food with admittedly less interest in it than she'd previously shown.
"Apparently nothing," Severus said darkly.
When she turned to him with raised brows, he shrugged.
"I went to see Albus. That's why I dined at Durmstrang. He thinks this is only a minor setback."

Mag's brows shot even higher.
//Alright. I know Dumblefuck didn't want you knowing, but if you think it's an issue just remove this from your heads with the Pensieve,// Nightshade said.
Mag and Severus turned to regard him as one. He'd begun to eat Mag's chicken while she was ignoring it.
//He left Ron FuckTard Weasley something when he fake died and he's able to use it to spy on them to see where they are and what they're doing. I think it's called a deluminator or some shit. It does something with light and when they use it it will activate something he linked it to, maybe his glasses, and he'll see what they're doing. I saw him thinking about it.//

"Alright," Severus said slowly, feeling marginally better.
"But how is seeing what he's doing going to make Potter functional when he has to fight Voldemort?"
//Don't know that,// Nightshade replied, mental tone implying that he couldn't be expected to know everything.