Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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"Hush, my prince. Keep your face down, turn away from the door," Thiago says urgently. His tone sends a chill down my spine and, of course, I do as he advises.
"Lookeen fure a Myster Furniss," a gritty, low voice with the strangest accent I've ever heard says from the doorway. The voice gets louder as the – I'm assuming – very short man approaches. The sound as he speaks comes at me from an odd angle, below.
"Oore a Myster Pike?" says another voice – higher, but with the same, strange accent. Also short.
I wait for Thiago to explain to me what's going on as he usually does. I keep my face forward and down, sipping at my butterbeer. But an explanation doesn't come. Odd.
"Ah, I believe you'll find them at the Hog's Head, gentlemen," Sirona announces in a confident, neutral way from behind the bar. "My understanding is Furniss takes meetings there. Only other pub in town – easy mistake, happens all the time. Straight out the doors, pass Olivander's on your left. Keep walking. You'll see it."
The men grumble as they turn and leave.
"Two goblins, Ominis..." Thiago whispers as the doors open and close again. "Blue-eyed goblins...as Penny reported to April."
I don't entirely understand, but before I can inquire further, Thiago is asking Sirona, "my darling, have you seen them before? Or any like them?"
"No. But I've heard rumors," she says with suspicion. "I don't know this 'Pike' fellow, but Furniss comes and goes from Hogsmeade regularly. He's no good. Always stirring up trouble. Keeps just enough on this side of the law not to get caught."
Thiago goes quiet and the churning wheels of thought that engage inside his mind are as kinetic to me as the way his knees start to bounce on his stool. I have a sense about his intentions, given my understanding of some of the assignments he and April have shared over the years.
"Should we follow them?" I suggest.
He inhales sharply as his presence squares to me. "You would not object?" He is eager. I know time is of the essence. If I falter, we could lose them. And though it isn't something I would ever think to do on my own, I feel entirely safe with Thiago's experience and instincts.
"Yes. Lead on," I say, pulling out my wand.
Thiago's arm instantly loops around mine as we hastily make our way out the door, call our goodbyes to Sirona behind us, and exit into the cool, humid night that has descended upon Hogsmeade.
"Do you see them?" I whisper.
"No," he says as he guides me quickly and smoothly across the damp cobblestones of the town.
Whenever we walk together, and even now in this moment of tension and in spite of his mild inebriation, Thiago's instincts are most thoughtful as he leads me both with his body and his voice as to what obstacles may appear. He'll give a subtle vocal cue – "steps!" – or a mere lift of his shoulder to provide me with the information I need to plan my next moves accordingly. And all without condescension or pandering. Never that. Not once.
