I must not think about Cassandra now. I cannot let myself be distracted by her sad expression, or her faltering voice, or her soft lips on mine; their hesitant but curious approach wanting to discover my mouth and my tongue, the way I kiss in return. What had seemed wrong for months, for a few minutes felt like the most right thing I could do, the only way to feel the flame of life and passion burning in my chest again... only to be abruptly brought back to reality, that faint light blown away by the wind.
The letter from the Ministry of Magic reminded me why I promised myself not to get emotionally involved with anyone anymore: even though I'm no longer an Auror, they still trust me enough to call me in case of an emergency, should a dangerous situation arise that only someone experienced, who has seen first-hand what the Dark Arts are capable of, is able to face. And it so happens that I am just that kind of person. As long as it's me who's potentially in danger, I don't care about the consequences; but if this job even slightly undermines the emotional wellbeing of those around me, seeking solitude is the least I can do to ensure no one gets hurt in any way.
I must distance myself from her as soon as possible, push her away, however much it might hurt her... and me. I know what's being ignited inside me, I can't deny it. But I still don't want to admit it. To do so would mean questioning everything I've painstakingly built up until now, the last ten years of life after what happened to Mabel in Scarborough. If I hadn't been so presumptuous, things would be different now: she would still be here, I wouldn't have a bad leg... and Cassandra and I would never have met.
The carriage stops, and with it, finally, the flow of my thoughts. Thankfully: focusing on the Ministry's assignment will keep me from thinking about everything else. I step out and head towards the bridge above Hogsmeade Station, where two Aurors are waiting for me. One is a man over fifty, with blue eyes and dark blond hair streaked with white, deep expression lines on his face, and a thick, well-groomed moustache: Patrick Lisbon, already in service when I was working at the Ministry. A man of action, with keen intelligence and wise resourcefulness, calm and impassive to the right degree; perfect for such an assignment. The other is at least thirty years younger, tall and athletic, with thick brown hair, deep dark eyes, and a face full of freckles; it seems like yesterday that I was teaching him Potions first, at Hogwarts, and then Occlumency during Auror training.
«I would have preferred to see you under different circumstances, Sebastian», I start, greeting the young Sallow.
«The same goes for me, Profes— I mean, Sharp»
«Come on, there's no time for pleasantries», Lisbon interjects briskly, signaling Sebastian to take my suitcase and starting to walk towards the densely vegetated side of the mountain.
«An ambush like this at Christmas, what a dirty trick!», exclaims Sebastian, following the older colleague, who immediately scolds him for his language.
«We'll use a Portkey that will take us directly to Spavin's office, Sharp. If we're lucky enough, some of our people might have already been rescued», says Lisbon.
Sebastian echoes, murmuring: «Who knows in what condition...».
Lisbon seems not to hear him: «Do you have enough Veritaserum?», he asks, turning to me.
«I've drawn on all the available supplies, Lisbon»
«That means if it's not enough, you'll have to enter their minds. Here we are, in position», he concludes, nodding towards a pair of filthy, tattered gloves, carelessly left on a large stone about the size of a newborn. We position ourselves around it, waiting. As soon as the gloves light up with a blue glow, we touch them almost simultaneously and are sucked into a whirlwind, transporting us in a few seconds to the antechamber of the Minister of Magic's office, a room furnished with luxurious furniture, dark marble on the floor and light wood-paneled walls, depicting the greatest and most significant events in magical history. The door is closed, but agitated voices can be heard from within.
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Lustful Alchemy
FanfictionAs a former Hogwarts student, journalist and magician activist Cassandra Doyle was delighted and honored when she received a letter from the Deputy Headmistress Matilda Weasley, asking her to join the teaching staff as Alchemy professor. However, as...
