Circi | 2

THIRTY ONE

"Idiots"

March 1997,  a few weeks later

Hogwarts had descended into chaos after the death eaters had abandoned the castle after near-destroying it.

Professor McGonagall had been the first to Dumbledore's body after Mica. She had stumbled across the young Gryffindor, head bent over his body with tear stained cheeks. The first step she heard approaching triggered her into fight mode and she had lashed out without thought. Luckily, the Professor had blocked the spell before ushering her away from the body.

She held the teenager, mourning silently for her old friend as a crowd gathered. The students began to raise their wands, lighting up the area as they paid their respects. McGonagall raised her wand too, holding Mica close as the girl couldn't find her wand. Harry Potter had come to stand beside them and handed her her wand which had been abandoned near the front door. He was crying too, holding onto the hand of his friend just out of Mica's view.

When Dumbledore's body had been removed, and McGonagall rallied the Professors together to run the school as best they could, Mica finally felt the absence.

She had searched for Circi for days before he approached her. Harry told her everything. How Draco had been in the tower, how Snape was the one to kill Dumbledore in the end... how Circi was dragged along with them and how she fought against them. He handed over Circi's broken wand.

"I thought she was with them when she broke my nose. I couldn't understand the family loyalty, but I think I'm starting to." At this, he looked back at Ron and Hermione who were standing nearby.

"Thank you," she told him, holding the wand close.

"If you need anything," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder and offering a kind smile, "you know where to find me." She nodded and shook his hand before punching his shoulder as he punched hers. The handshake brought a smile to her face, it took her back to the Quidditch pitch where she was free from worry but, the second he turned his back, she still felt hollow.

That day she had also found Leslie in the infirmary.

They found him last, a day late, passed out in a dark corridor near the stairs that led down to the Slytherin common room. He'd been petrified, frozen and hidden for days, and Madame Pomfrey fretted over him before she tended to the surface-level wounds.

Mica was disallowed visitation for weeks so that he could recover his strength after being malnourished and dehydrated. But, as the early days of March drew in, she was admitted to the infirmary. Once upon a time, she wouldn't have worried as much for the boy. In the early years of their friendship that had been Circi's job. He was her best friend, not Mica's. But, in the last year, while Circi was preoccupied with worrying for her brother, it was Mica who had been there for him. It was Mica who remembered his birthday in January, it was her who he came to about his date. It was Mica who knew that he often disappeared with Francis for hours before curfew. Francis, his girlfriend.

At fourteen, she didn't think her friends would be on the brink of death or kidnapped by death eaters. She wanted to kiss the girl she liked for the sake of defying her father. She wanted to make her mother proud. And she just wanted to be a child.

Leslie was awake when she went to visit him. He was talking to Francis, who sat in a chair beside him playing with the button holes in her blue cardigan, and stroking her cat where it lay purring on the bed next to him. He fell silent when Mica approached, holding Circi's broken wand, which she kept on her at all times.

"Hey," she tried a smile.

"Hi," he said, barely audible.

She took a seat as they exchanged pleasantries and nodded politely at Francis. This was the first time since the attack they had the chance to speak. They saw each other across the infirmary since Mica made a point of escorting students to Madame Pomfrey but not once had they been close enough to speak. Leslie pointed at the wand in her hands, chewing at his lip.

"Any news?" He asked her, sitting up to have a drink of water when he saw Madame Pomfrey walk into view. "No one's telling me what happened or where she is."

Mica glanced at Francis, unsurprised the girl wouldn't disclose the gossip of the school to the boy who valued information the most. Shrugging, she tucked an orange ringlet behind her ear and gathered her cat into her arms. Dismissing herself, she gave Leslie's hand a squeeze and left them. Mica looked at her retreating form, hating the effect Circi had on her just how Circi closed up at any mention of Francis.

"They took her," Mica began, staring at the wand in her hands as if it could tell her everything she wanted to know. She told Leslie what Harry had told her, what he had seen and, despite hearing that his best friend was in the hands of death eaters, he seemed to relax. "You don't seem as worried as some of us."

"She's with Draco," he said plainly, pouring another glass of water with a frown when Madame Pomfrey walked past again.

"Draco can't protect her, didn't you hear what I just said. He couldn't even..." she trailed off, unable to bring herself to say what he did- or nearly did. "Snape did it."

Leslie hummed into his cup, trailing the nurse until she was out of view before discarding the cup onto the bedside table. "He couldn't do it because it's not in his nature. Draco's a coward, he always has been. But where your Gryffindor idiocy has made Circi act brashly, she is alike to Draco in her loyalty. She will do anything for him and, despite their differences, he will do anything to protect her."

"How do you know that?" She raised an eyebrow despite her heart racing.

"I know everything, and I've been in the middle of Draco and Circi for four years. You notice a thing or two about people when you know them long enough." He reached for his cup but only held it as Madame Pomfrey drifted by. "Things like hand holding, and a lot of touching." He looked at her pointedly with a cheeky grin.

"Of course, you know." Mica rolled her eyes, unable to suppress her grin.

"I'd be an idiot not to notice."

"She's an idiot," Mica scoffed, her hands trembling as her smile dropped.

"She is. That's why she has us." He looked up to notice Madame Pomfrey approaching them. He scowled at the intricately carved bottle in her hand. It had vines and roses carved into the clay but the potion inside stung as much as real rose thorns. "We just have to get to her," he grumbled as he finished his water.