Innocence

Chapter Eighteen

Percival and Credence sat on the rug in front of their fire, the thousands of pieces of paper scattered around them. They'd split them up into fifteen different piles, as there appeared to be only fifteen different messages repeated again and again. These piles were then arranged in a line depending on the severity of the message. Credence held one of the worst in his shaking hands.

"How can anyone think such a thing?" He asked. "'They should be serving us.' Who would think such terrible things?"

'The same sort of people who would be trying to convince others to think in the same way."

A nasty silence fell between them. Neither wanted to look at each other or voice what they were thinking, but the weight of Gellert Grindelwald hung in the air like a disease.

A sharp rapping sound startled the two of them out of their haze, and Percival quickly stood to let an owl into the room. Credence gasped.

"It's Mark!" He said, scrambling to his feet to stand next to the other man. He did a sort of jig on the spot in anticipation. "Maybe they've written to explain why they didn't speak to us."

Percival pulled the letter out of the envelope and read it quickly, before frowning and looking in the envelope again. Turning it upside down, a small slip of battered paper fell into his hand. "No I'm afraid it's nothing like that." He said apologetically. "But what she does say is both intriguing and worrying."

Credence bit his lip. "What do you mean, worrying?"

Percival glanced at Credence. "Sophia says she found this note in the owlery on the first day of term. It's just like the others, look." He said, handing it over. "She also says that David had told her to burn it, but that she couldn't bring herself to do it."

Percival hurriedly grabbed some parchment, a quill and ink and scribbled something before giving it to Mark. The bird ruffled his feathers in indignation, before leaving the way he came in. Credence closed the window after him.

"What was that?" He asked.

"I've written to Professor Blackrose, asking what year students would be taught how to make something like the notes impossible to destroy."

- - - - -

A few days passed by with very little to show for it. Percival and Credence made very little process, that is until a large tawny owl arrived with Professor Blackrose's answer.

Tearing the envelope open in his hurry to find some answers, Percival felt his hopes brighten a tiny bit.

"He says that that level of magic would be taught in and during the sixth year." He said, smiling.

Credence beamed. "So that cuts it down by a huge margin then, after all, the only people who could've done it now are those with a pet, who are either studying for their NEWTs or are a teacher."

Percival thought for a second. "No it's better than that." He said, walking over to where the piece of paper Sophia had given them was laid carefully on the floor, a bit away from the rest of them. "Sophia got this on the first day. There's no way anyone could've learnt how to do that in... What? The one or two lessons they would've had by the end of that day, assuming they didn't even have any free periods."

Credence blinked. "So what you're saying is that whoever did it, must've known that level of magic by the time the school year started?"

"Exactly! Meaning that we can forget students in the sixth year entirely. Whoever did this must either be a teacher or a seventh year!"

- - - - -

It was late at night, and Sophia and David were the only two in the common room. Sophia was just finishing up her potions homework when David suddenly snapped his book shut, causing her to jump a little. She looked up, confused to see anger written all across his face.

"Are we going to talk about it then?" He asked.

"Talk about what?" Sophia was growing more confused by the second. Somehow, her mind went to an odd thought. Is he angry because he found out she had kept the piece of paper that he told her to burn?

David sighed. "Why don't you like Daniel?"

Sophia sat back in her chair, relieved, but then felt guilty. "I don't know what you mean." She said, trying to keep her face as neutral as possible.

"You know exactly what I mean! You glare at him if he comes anywhere near us, you barely speak to him, although when you do you're sharp and frankly rude."

Sophia twiddled her thumbs together, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. "Okay." She said finally. "You're right. I don't like him."

"But why?" David cried, now sounding more upset than angry. "He's my cousin. He's my family. I love him almost as much as I love my brother. He is the only link I have here to my old life."

"I don't know. I've never liked him, but I don't know why. Ever since I first met him while out shopping, I have felt uneasy around him."

"Because he's a half-blood?"

"No! Definitely not! I told you before, I'm not like that. Hell, if I was biologically related to my parents I would be a half-blood." She was silent for a moment. "Look... I'm sorry. I didn't think I was being so obvious with my feelings towards him. The last thing I wanted to do was upset you. But sometimes... People just don't like people. There doesn't need to be some huge reason or anything. Sometimes your personalities just might not go well together. But of course I would never want that to affect your relationship with him. I would never want to make you choose. I'll try and be more polite in the future, and put my personal feelings aside." Sophia then stood up, and walked to the staircases at the centre of the room, intending to go to bed. However, she was halted in her path as David called over to her.

"I already chose."

Not daring to look back, Sophia descended the stairs, her heart pounding in her ears.

- - - - - - - - - -

Anyone enjoying this so far? It took me ages to write it. I'm actually quite proud that I managed to finish it. I'm not happy with the ending yet, although luckily I have a while before I'm set to publish it so I can always go back and change it.

Anyway, vote, comment, follow me if you want, I would much appreciate it.