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FOUR questions & answers (if only it were that simple)
The body was gone.
Capella gaped at the spot where it had once been. The floor was now spotless, shining like nothing had ever touched it. The pool of blood, gone. The hair, gone. Even the shattered window, where Tom had stood and looked out of for any sign of the killer was repaired. It was definitely the right floor - she remembered the portrait of a somber-looking witch holding a cat hanging upon the wall. So what had happened?
Dippet breathed a sigh of relief, turning to his stunned heads with a smile. "There's nothing to see. Nobody is dead! Ah, you both must be tired, imagining things like that. That, or Peeves tried to play a prank on you. Ho! That's probably it, I remember one time the cheeky--"
"Take us to Gryffindor Tower," Tom cut in sharply, his eyes hard. "Now."
Both Dippet and Capella stared at the boy, the latter wondering just how much trouble he'd get in for speaking to a teacher--no less the headmaster--like that. But it seemed as though Tom had the professor in his pocket, for he nodded tersely and spun on his heel, gesturing for them to follow. What the hell? She mouthed to Tom, who shrugged, looking as confused as she felt.
She'd never been to Gryffindor tower, because she'd never had a reason to. She was glad she hadn't been placed in the house as they walked up a seemingly never-ending flight of stairs. At least the Dungeons were only a level below the ground, so she never had to use too many stairs. Ten points to Slytherin.
Dippet said the password to a portrait of a rather large lady and after looking at both her and Tom slightly suspiciously, she let them in. The common room was completely different to what she had been expecting, although she didn't really know exactly what she had been expecting, other than something bold. It was homely, comfortable-looking. And warm, different to the artificial warmth of the Slytherin common room; more natural and hearty. A fire burning in the large hearth casted a golden glow over the room, matching the golden accents of the furniture. She liked it a lot more than she expected, actually. She felt like it would be a nice place to curl up in and read a book, or play a game with friends. Too open for gossiping, though, unlike Slytherin's room. That had countless nooks and crannies to talk privately in, some even enchanted to keep sound away from the rest of the room. Thinking about it made her miss it; she didn't often go in there anymore because her and Tom had their own private one. Nevermind. Perks of being head girl.
"Miss Black?"
The professor looked at her expectantly, a polite smile on his face. "You'll have to go up. Neither myself nor Tom here can - it'll just turn into a slide for us."
She nodded and started up the stairs, her wand clenched tightly in her hand. She wasn't sure what to expect. Wasn't sure what she wanted to see. Did she want to see Lola alive and well and be proved wrong, and possibly crazy? Or did she want to find her bed empty, the girl well and truly missing and dead?
