Dark Wizard Collector: A Hogwarts Fanfiction

Chapter 10

We continued dinner without me drifting into contemplation, but I did not speak much; I mostly listened and gathered all I could about each professor. Rolanda Hooch was still teaching Basics of Broomsticks and coaching Quidditch, as was Filius Flitwick with the Charms class. I rolled my eyes hearing that old Cuthbert Binns was still teaching History of Magic. Somehow his ghost remained after I had set the staffroom on fire as a prank my seventh year. I had not meant to kill him, but he had fallen asleep in a wing-backed chair and suffocated in the smoke. Without mercy, I scrutinized the other professors and paused seeing the Defense Against the Dark Arts witch.

The professor of my brother's desired class was not looking too well; I figured the curse Tom put on that position was taking its toll on the old woman. I bet the blackest part of my soul this witch will die within the week. I harshly scrutinized with a hint of amusement as I sipped my wine. Dumbledore looked over at me curiously; I cringed on the inside but could only bring myself to match his stare. An unamused countenance broke the eye contact I kept with the headmaster.

"Which house do you prefer Miss Zeria?" McGonagall asked over her sharp nose like an inquisitive owl.

"Honestly, I think each house has amiable qualities that every wizard and witch should embody." My careful reply did not sooth McGonagall's strong-willed nature. I could sense her interest growing; she wanted to know whether I would be an ally or a competitor.

"Quite true, but which one do you relate to most?"

Another dodgy question I needed to use my alias to conceal. A pause helped me recollect what I had made up in the file of credentials I had given to Dumbledore. Maera Zeria had been recruited by the Ministry of Magic at a young age after attending a small wizarding school in Germany. "Personally, I was traditionally raised and expected nothing less than greatness by my parents. Consequently, my loyalties would lie with the erudite Ravenclaw." McGonagall was pacified by my answer, and I successfully dodged alluding to my loyalty to Slytherin.

Maven. A familiar hiss echoed in my ears and I choked on a mouth full of steak. To my rescue, McGonagall struck my back and I swallowed the morsel of meat. That smack felt more like a vengeful slap for winning the long hair argument rather than a concerned pat on the back. As in any embarrassing situation, I stood and left the room with my hand over my mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a few students stand to watch me rush from the hall's back door.

Clearing from the eyes of everyone, my body transformed into a raven and I flew to the first floor girl's lavatory. The white tiled threshold greeted me. In the mirror, I watched myself return to my human body. Maven. My name was rasped again and I held my breath. Small tinks of water hitting metal echoed in the lavatory and my ears bid my head to turn toward the stalls. Something was wrong; I squinted looking into the darkness. "Hello?" I called looking around the lavatory.

Next, I heard a high pitched voice that made me cringe. "Ha ha, oh Maven it's you! Couldn't keep your legs together long enough, could you?"

"Well Myrtle, you never really did properly earn the title of a Moaner." I growled and whipped out my wand. Like a cloud of steam rising from a cauldron of boiling liquid, the ghost of a fourteen year old girl appeared in front of me. My teeth clenched; I personally knew the ghost before she died. That's why she can see past my disguise.

"That is no way to treat a friend." She said, fixing her circular glasses.

"You spread rumors about me, you misfit Ravenclaw!" I snapped and walked closer to the wispy gray figure.

"Yes, rumors about as wide as your legs would go to get an A in a class."

"Myrtle, you know quite well that I studied all the time. Why do you think I talked to you?"

"I know you cheated! You did all sorts of naughty things with Professor Grindelwald and with others too. That's why you had no friends!" She screamed flying close to my face.

"Enough! You know nothing about me. My brother should have done a better job in killing a stupid Mudblood like you." I backed away from the phantom and shouted, "OBLIVIATE!"

White light burst from my wand and the ghost shrieked as it disappeared from my charm's damage sending her into the far stone wall. That should fix her; now she won't even remember me. Relieved, I turned to the six sinks arranged together to form a column and sighed. The beat of my heart hastened from the sound of footsteps echoing in the corridor. Anxiety grappled at my throat like a snake strangling a rat. My hands shook as I wrenched the door open and exited the lavatory. Hurriedly, I walked to the Great Hall and met McGonagall half way down the corridor. She looked genuinely concerned and seeing my pallid countenance asked, "Are you well?" A nod and weak smile placated her as we returned to dinner.