˗ˋ 101

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by hvgwcrts

by hvgwcrts

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
AND ONE
✧
-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH AVIANA
IS DRAGGED INTO THE
OFFICE

. . .

"Why the fuck am I being dragged to Dumbledore's office in the middle of the night?"

"Language, Miss Rosier." McGonagall said drily. "And it's Professor Dumbledore."

Aviana stood in the entrance to the Headmaster's office, still half asleep and the feeling of Snape waking her up all of a sudden still weighing on her. He had disappeared in a sweep of his cloak as soon as she stepped inside the entrance to the office, and she felt as though she needed a trip to the Prefect's Bathroom to get rid of that disgust, as she glared at each and every person stood before her. The Weasleys - those who still attended Hogwarts - were sitting on various pieces of furniture, white as a sheet, and Harry stood besides McGonagall.

"Do you always wear that to go to sleep?" Fred asked, before getting an elbow to the side, and he seemed to realise himself and turned silent again.

"Yes, I do, you'll be glad it's too cold for my nightdress." She said, all too sarcastically, before she became all the more conscious of her appearance, emerald green silk pressed against her skin as she folded her arms, her eyes landing on Harry. "Well?" She asked, their eyes meeting. "Why am I here? Is anyone going to bother explaining or are once again am I going to be treated as though I'm a child and incapable of handling anything with an ounce of emotion." Her glare turned on Dumbledore. "Speaking of, I have a bone to pick with you-"

"Miss Rosier." McGonagall warned, and Aviana only narrowed her eyes and fell silent, turning to Harry again.

"I saw Mr Weasley get hurt." Harry said. He seemed paler than anyone, and vaguely sick, but more awake too. Aviana's expression hardened at once and shifted awkwardly, taking a step out of the entrance to his office. "I-"

Dumbledore's eyes, beady behind half-moon spectacle, stopped him in his tracks. Like Harry had noticed over the past few months, he too had seen that recognition on Aviana's face. Knew that she knew more than any of them. "Mr Weasley has been injured in the course of his work for the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore said. "He has been taken to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you all back to Sirius's house, which is much more convenient for the hospital than the Burrow."

"I'm supposed to be staying here for Christmas." Aviana said.

"I don't think there's much time for arguing, Miss Rosier." McGonagall said.

"I don't want to-"

"Aviana." Harry said, almost pleadingly.

She pursed her lips, in some kind of limbo about her decision. It was hardly as though she could argue, not in the face of Dumbledore - apparently he was the all-mighty and she should bow down before him and relish in any opportunity he gave her. Even is she initially vehemently disagreed with the opportunity at all.

"Fine." She said. "We're not Apparating, are we?" Dumbledore shook his head, and she breathed out a sigh of relief - she hated Apparating with a passion - and pushed on before the Headmaster could get a word in edgeways. "We can't use the Floo system, the Ministry's watching it." She pointed out.

"Apt observation." Dumbledore noted. "Miss Rosier is correct, the system is being watched. You will be taking a Portkey." He indicated the old kettle lying innocently on his desk. "We are just waiting for Phineas Nigellus to report back..."

"That old fool?" Aviana blanched.

McGonagall hardly looked impressed, and despite the girl's comments, Dumbledore continued. "I wish to be sure that the coast is clear before sending you-"

There was a flash of flame in the very middle of the office, and Aviana took a concerned step back, the flame leaving behind a single golden feather that floated gently to the floor. "It is Fawkes's warning," Dumbledore sounded almost anxious, catching the feather as it fell. "She must know you're out of your beds... Minerva, go and head her off - tell her any story-"

Professor McGonagall was gone in a swish of tartan, leaving just the Headmaster before the group.

"He says he'll be delighted," A bored voice behind Dumbledore said; Phineas had reappeared in front of his Slytherin banner. "My great-great-grandson has always had odd taste in house guests - Miss Rosier, you are much welcomed, apparently."

Aviana shifted on her feet, uncomfortable. She avoided the portrait's gaze.

"Come here, then," Dumbledore said to Harry, Aviana and the Weasleys. "And quickly, before anyone else joins us."

His implications were clear. McGonagall would only be able to hold off Umbridge for so long, and the sheer amount of students - that was, six - out of their beds and in Dumbledore's office no less, would be a cause for concern for the overly-involved woman. Surely, there would be a panic, an instant involvement from the Ministry and Aviana knew that that portrait of a woman in an overly-large white dress on the second floor had been spying on them all and reporting back.

That's why she always made sure to snog Harry in front of it. The painted woman looked snobby enough to be the type, and she was more than happy that her theory had proved correct.

"You have all used a Portkey before?" Dumbledore asked, and they nodded, each reaching out to touch some part of the blackened kettle. "Good. On the count of three then, one... two... three!"

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