Chapter 153 : Whispers in the Castle

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Ron was sulking in the corner when the twins shared yet another look and placed a hand over Adrian's shoulders; Harry studied them for a while as they led his brother out of the room. Harry made to follow them but was interrupted by a jubilant Oliver who wanted to talk Quidditch strategies. Harry wasn't sure what unnerved him most from that point onwards; Oliver's eyes gleaming as if he was under high fever as he talked about Quidditch or his brother's equally gleaming eyes as he returned to the common room?

As November ended, the weather got steadily colder; the first snow had already fallen and, by the time December rolled in, the school grounds were covered in a thick white blanket. Harry's life had pretty much entered a routine; he was studying, working a little on his side project with Severus and his animagus training, sketching the odd addition to the Firebolt's Seeker edition even. Not that he minded; it was nice to not have to be reminded that a psychopath is out for your brother's -and possibly yours- blood as far as he was concerned. Neville had been working hard on his spellwork lately and Harry had offered to help him practice; even though it took a hefty chunk off their free time to do so, Neville was steadily improving and was now up to par with the rest of their year. Blowing off some steam helped too, Harry noted one night as he fell exhausted on his bed, after an hour of rigorous training.

He was returning from the library the next morning when he ran into Hermione. She seemed as if she had been crying again. The girl brushed past him, muttering a muffled apology as Harry looked at her in exasperation; Ron was taking it too far this time. Really, how hard would it be to approach her and say sorry? Apparently too hard. He walked to the Gryffindor tower's entrance and tried to remember the password to get in. After the assault on the Fat Lady, the opening to the common room had been covered with the portrait of one Sir Cadogan, a rather hopeless looking knight and his plump grey pony. The knight insisted on coming up with a new password at least twice a day and constantly tried to challenge the students unlucky enough to forget said code word to a duel. Adrian said he had encountered him once before while trying to find the divination tower; the hazel eyed boy seemed vaguely scared of the painting. Harry shared the feeling.

Muttering the current password -oddsbodikins, really?- he entered the room where he found his annoyed brother trying to reason with a smug looking Ron. Adrian had been playing the middle man for sometime now and he was steadily getting sick of it. Harry sat on an armchair by the fire and took out his potions textbook; in every truth, he had finished his assignment while in the library but he had always found it easier to observe others while hidden behind a book; and he was currently observing the antics of his brother.

Ever since the party after the victory over Hufflepuff, Adrian had been somehow getting gloomier every day; Sirius and Remus were as obsessed as ever over finding Pettigrew -and who could blame them- their fear making them fuss even more over Adrian and, surprisingly to Harry, on him too. Their mother on the other hand, had sent Adrian a long, three paged letter after Pettigrew's attempt to enter the common room, urging him to be careful and never leave the castle unescorted. He even had some teachers follow him around the school from times to times, especially when they had Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. And then there was that talk he had had with the Weasley twins that night.

Adrian hadn't told him anything and the twins didn't leave anything slip either -apparently they had promised, silly redheads that always kept their word- but it seemed that something important had transgressed that night and he had no knowledge of it. He had mentioned as much to Neville and his friend had come up with one crazy scenario after the next, managing to make Harry double over in laughter. Because really, illegal trials of stretching and muscle toning spells with Professor Flitwick as the test subject could only paint hilarious images in ones imagination. But when Neville wasn't around to take his mind off things, his imagination took a darker course; what if Adrian managed to get himself in danger? Once again he rubbed his temples trying to calm down. How was he supposed to protect his brother if he never knew what Adrian was up to? He had been extremely lucky up to that point, he knew.

The only one in the know of the exact content of that mysterious conversation seemed to be Ron; Harry had seen his brother and the redhead whisper about, very much as they did in their first year before Hermione was admitted into their close circle. And if even Hermione didn't know, it must have meant that whatever they were talking about was probably something Adrian wasn't supposed to be doing.

The green eyed teen understood his brother's predicament to a point; true, he had never experienced such an extent of overprotecting frenzy himself -even if Severus had his moments- but he knew how it was, not being free to act as you felt like. He just wished he could find out what these two had been talking about but they were being extra careful this time around.

He had caught them once or twice staring at a piece of parchment in silent awe and he had even taken a quick peak in his brother's parchments one night on Severus's advice; the potions master was just as unnerved with this quiet talking between Adrian and Ron as Harry was. Past experience had taught them both to be careful when signs such as these appeared on the horizon. Still, he had come up empty handed.

It was a few days before Christmas holidays when things took a turn for the worse; it was early morning on the second outing to Hogsmeade and Harry was visiting Remus with a cup of freshly made hot chocolate. It was the night of the full moon again and the werewolf was feeling a little worse for wear; he hadn't even managed to get to the Great Hall last night for dinner let alone attending breakfast this morning. He knocked on his office door and entered after hearing Remus's voice.

"Hey, kiddo!" Sirius greeted him from his favorite armchair by the fireplace; it seemed that he wasn't the only one who had thought to keep Remus company.

"Hello, Sirius. Remus." He said and turned to face the werewolf; he was seated across his best friend looking tired, black circles prominent under his honey brown eyes.

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