All The Magic We Made (Sebastian Sallow x Fem!OC)

No Beef / Have I Been Anointed Sherlock Holmes

After class, I'm ready to put all of that behind me and hurry to my next class---except Garreth Motherfucking-Shitball-Hellion-Instigator Weasley decides to stop me outside.

No, I don't have beef. Of course not.

"Hope Sharp wasn't too disagreeable." He falls into pace next to me. "Overheard him say something about "taking responsibility"."

I want to go off on him, tell him that yes, I'm always happy to help, but I don't like being taken advantage of. That yes, I'm new and impressionable, but doesn't mean anyone has a right to take it as an opportunity for their own benefit.  I can't even count all the times in my life when I wanted to spill this same speech to people around me, whether it's to friends, classmates, even my own parents. 

But, I don't think Garreth meant harm. Neither did my friends, neither did my classmates, neither did my parents. I should be glad to know that I'm trusted. And if there's one thing I've learned time and time again, it's that no matter how close I feel I am to snapping, I can always afford just enough grace to keep the peace.

So I just sigh. "Professor Sharp wasn't happy."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Garreth says. "I wouldn't worry too much. Sharp may seem gruff, but I'd bet a galleon or two that he blew up a couple potions in his day."

"You're probably right, but for the life of me, I can't envision it," I laugh.

"Experimentation is the only path to progress, mate," he says, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Speaking of, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to help me with another project of mine. Picture this: a Fizzing Whizzbee-inspired beverage---"

"NOPE."

"But---"

"Oh, look at the time! I'm going to be so late for Transfiguration, and you know how McGonagall is with punctuality. Gotta go!"

Without a second glance, I bolt.

***

My self-congratulations for escaping involvement in yet another one of Garreth's experiments is cut short when I enter the Hufflepuff common room, and a painting hanging off in the corner makes a loud 'PSSSSSSSSST' sound at me. I've already interacted with most paintings around here, but surprisingly, this one has managed to remain hidden up until now.

"PSSST."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I hurry to the painting, looking up at the grand portrait.

"Finally," the portrait of an elderly, refined man huffs. "Took you long enough."

Jeez, sorry.

"Can I help you, Mister Portrait?" I ask.

"Eldrich Diggory, please," the portrait corrects me.

"Very well, Mr. Eldrich Diggory." I'd usually shake a hand at this point, but he's a portrait, so...I clasp my hands behind my back. "Isla Andrysiak. I hope you don't mind me asking who you are, exactly?"

"Ah, of course. So few youngins these days know who I am." He clears his throat, straightening. "Former Minister of Magic and founder of the Auror Recruitment Programme, at your service."

"That's quite a resume, sir."

"It is indeed! Oh, how vitalizing it is to be appreciated," he says, beaming. "Thank you, young lady. I knew I was right about you."

Curious, I ask, "Right about me?"

"Yes, yes. You are perfect for the task of solving a decades-long murder, and freeing the innocent culprit."

"Excuse me, what?"

"You found a book during your little escapade to the Restricted Section, didn't you? The one with missing pages," he says. "With that young gentleman friend of yours."

"That was ages ago."

"It's been less than a week."

Damn. Time must be funky around here in the castle. I've completely forgotten about that book.

"How did you know?" I inquire.

"We portraits hear more than you might expect," he says cryptically.

"Not sure how I feel about that," I murmur. "With all due respect, Mr. Diggory, I am the last person you would want on the case of a murder."

He smiles genuinely, a surprise from someone as stern-faced as he is. "You are a Hufflepuff, are you not? Surely, you'd spring at the chance to bring justice where it is due."

I pause, turning his words over in his head. Justice...that's a word that I've clung to my whole life. Even when I was a child, I would complain about things not being fair, only to be met with the phrase, "Life isn't fair". And even as a child, to that I said, "Then I'll make it fair." I hated the idea that I'm expected to simply conform and adapt to what I don't believe in just because everyone else is. 

There is someone rotting in prison right now, someone who is innocent. Someone who had the justice system fail them.

With a deep breath, I say, "What can I do to help?"