Moody’s office was filled with the multiple signs of his vast paranoia. Hel had lost track of just how many sneak-a-scopes she had polished. After a while they all looked alike, and she was pretty sure she’d shined a few of them more than once. Annoying as all that was, she had come up with another goal and was simply bidding her time until she could proceed. Unfortunately, that required Moody’s absence from his office and he seemed content to keep an eye on her, even when his back was turned, she knew that magical eye was focused on her.
Turning from the desk full of sneak-a-scopes, the witch began wiping down the large foe-glass. Hel’s eyes looked deeply into the smooth surface. “See anything in there?” Moody questioned from across the room, his back to her.
“I don’t think so,” the witch returned. “Can’t imagine that I would, it’s for enemies, isn’t it?” Still, she continued to watch, dark swirls in the glass her only reward.
“Hmpf” Moody snorted in disdain, turning to face her, “I would think you had managed to irate enough people you would have all sorts after you.”
“Eh,” Hel returned with a shrug, also turning to see the wizard, “mainly Defense Against the Dark Arts professors,” she returned with a smirk. “Why do you think there is such a turnover?” The witch snickered, “actually, I can usually manage to talk myself out of most trouble.” She narrowed her eyes at Moody, “you just seem intent on messing up my record.”
The old Auror’s brown eye rolled alongside the whirling blue one, and Hel returned to the foe-glass. “Behave,” the wizard hissed, as he headed towards the door, “don’t get any ideas while I’m gone.”
“Uh huh,” Hel muttered absently, the cloth in her hand sliding across the smooth dark glass. The door closed. ‘Four, three, two, one…’ The witch waited another second, and when the door didn’t reopen, turned her attention to the large silver-toned trunk on the other side of the room. It was massive, and the metal was cool beneath her hands. “Who makes a trunk completely out of metal?” Its composite would have been more than enough to spark the witch’s curiosity, but the several locks that secured the lid closed, that had really got her wondering. She had heard Moody was paranoid, which was made quite evident by the various contents of his office. “There has to be something spectacular in here to warrant so much protection.”
Hel’s fingers fiddled with one of the locks, flipping it up to examine it closely. Sergei, the Serpent Boy, had attempted to teach her how to open locks with tools, but it was just something that never really clicked with her. “Come on,” she tugged on the lock, hoping perhaps it would just give.
“I find the key works better.” Harlequin flinched at the sound of Moody’s voice behind her once more. “I recall telling you not to do anything while I was gone.”
“Actually,” Hel returned, turning to look up at Moody, “you told me to ‘behave’ and not to ‘get any ideas’ while you were gone.” She didn’t miss the pointed look the Auror gave her, but it didn’t stop her either. “Behaving is subjective, so that one was pointless. As for not getting any ideas while you were gone, I had this one way before you even left.” The witch shrugged matter of factly, “so I get by that one on a technicality as well.”
“Miss LaCroix.”
“Listen,” Hel returned, “I’m sorry, at least as sorry as I can be. But this,” she turned to regard the trunk once more, “is a masterpiece of work.” Genuine awe was in her voice, as her hands once more moved across the cool metal. “It’s, beautiful. I just figured if the outside was this glorious, whatever was inside has to be just as magnificent.” The witch let out a sigh, letting her hand slip from the trunk as she sat before it.
The brown and blue eye focused on the witch, “trust me,” he began, “you don’t want to know what I keep in there. It’s best left alone. Understand?” Hel nodded in return, another sigh slipping from her as her hand brushed across the metal once more as she came to standing. “You best get for the night. Don’t need to be watching over my shoulder to keep an eye on you.”
“Yes sir,” the witch returned, glancing back longingly at the trunk once more before heading out of the room.
Living and traveling with the Cirque, Hel was use to seeing things meant to dazzle and amaze. She herself had several acts to serve such a purpose. Being magical, she added a little extra to the shows that brought money in for the family. While their “wolf boy” was always a wolf boy, the cat girl could transform from ‘human’ to hybrid before their eyes. Still, the trunk seemed content to pique her curiosity, and thoughts of it followed her all the way back to the common room. |
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