Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power

A Portrait of a Prat

"We should probably speak with Pratt," Dracaena said the following morning, running a brush through her hair. "We've all got a free hour after Potions, right?"

"I believe so," Ominis said, still huddled under the covers. He grumbled irritably as Sebastian muttered in his sleep, turning over and slinging an arm over him. He battered him away, and Sebastian woke with a start. "Back off, Sallow, I'm not Dracaena."

"Sorry, mate," he sat up with a yawn, his hair sticking up all over the place. "What're we doing?"

"Breakfast, then Potions, then Pratt," Dracaena explained. "We need to figure out what we need to know from him."

"Anything at this point would be useful," Ominis said. "Anything to do with you, dove, or the goings on at the Ministry. I expect it would be too much to hope that we'd learn anything about the Ashwinder's benefactor, but it won't hurt to ask."

"Can we trust Pratt to keep his silence?" Sebastian said, getting to his feet and fumbling for his robes as Dracaena pulled her hair back into a clip. "If he blabs to anyone about what we're doing..."

"We'll have to make a point to tell him that if he does, we'll burn both his portraits," Dracaena said. "Or something worse, but I don't know what else to threaten a painting with."

"And then what?" Ominis rose, and she took a moment to admire his slender frame as he stretched. "How long do we think it would take for him to get back to us with information?"

"Merlin knows," Sebastian said, pulling off his pyjama top and reaching for his shirt. She paused, drinking in his sculpted form. "Maybe we should make a start on getting that Polyjuice potion Fig mentioned."

"We're booked for the rest of the day," Dracaena said. "Double DA and Charms, not to mention your Muggle Studies, Ominis."

"And I've got that meeting at the weekend," Sebastian said. "I'll do what I can to memorise the maps, but maybe you two should think about getting the potion out of Fig's old rooms while I'm gone."

"We'd still need some of Black's hair," Ominis said, with a small shudder. "Forgive me if I'm not overly keen on yanking out a fistful, Sebastian."

"It'd make sense for you to do it," he countered. "You're closest with him."

"In the same sense a rabbit might be close to a wolf," he muttered. "I'd have been able to work my charm once, Sebastian, but not anymore. He's far closer with my parents than I would ever have a hope to be, and if my recent experiences are anything to go by, he'd expel me in a heartbeat if he had the chance, just to please them. I can't risk it."

"Drac?" Sebastian glanced at her. "What about you?"

"I could," she said, slowly. "But I don't know how. I've gotten into his office before, but that was when I was already impersonating him, and Fig was distracting him. A disillusionment charm won't cut it, and I can't be a panther. The portraits would talk too much."

Sebastian grimaced. "Fine. We'll come back to it. Shall we?"

A few hours later, they strode into the library, irritated to find it somewhat bustling, as much as Madam Scribner would ever allow her library to bustle. The woman herself narrowed her eyes at them as they crossed the floor, laying her book to one side and rising.

"That might be a problem," Dracaena muttered. "What if she overhears?"

"Muffliato should cover us," Sebastian whispered back. "Best keep an eye out, all the same."

"I'll trust you to do that," Ominis said, dryly as Dracaena drew her wand, casting the muffling charm nonverbally as they stood before Pratt's portrait, Sebastian pulling a random book off the shelves and opening it, huddling close to Dracaena and pointing at a random page until Scribner went away.