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naoi, cove commits crime




CHAPTER NINE
cove commits crime

𖦹 ˚ ˚˚˚ 𖦹



  THE GRANDFATHER CLOCK TICKS patronisingly in front of them, the insufferable sound of their quills scratching against parchment invading the quiet. A spider expertly weaves his cobweb in the corner, the silk knitting together in defined rows and pulling taught around his claw tufts. The radiator next to her desk is turned up far too high just to make the experience all the more unbearable. Wind taps against the glass restlessly to set them even more at unease, making it seem as though Rigby has managed to get the elements on her side as well.

  Cove's wrist is beginning to ache from the fifty lines she's had to write and in anticipation of the thirty more she has to go. Her parchment glares up her, the loopy lettering of 'I will not shout out in class' ridiculing her as if she's still a wean in primary school. The clock hands tick past another long, long minute.

  A chair squeals against the floorboards, leaving her ears ringing from her burden of amplified hearing. She desperately wants to bring her hands up and cover them, reeling from all the noises bombarding her. Recently her senses have been amplified to the point that it's overwhelming and she suspects that it's the medication Madam Pomfrey has her on. At the front of the classroom, Professor Rigby stands with a magisterial air about herself, nose in the air as she looks between them both accusatorially.

  "I'll be back in a moment," Rigby announces. "Don't move an inch."

  Her boots click out of the classroom, followed by a long breath of silence. Outside, Cove can hear the lock mechanisms shudder to a close and Rigby's scent disappears down the corridor. The silence only lasts so long.

  "Fuck this," Remus breathes, leaning over his desk to tap her on the shoulder with his quill. "Psst, Cove!"

  She spins around in her chair. "What?"

  "Look at her desk," he tells her. She obliges. "That old bint's gone and left her spare keys out in the open."

  "What's your point?"

  "I say we take them and leave."

  "What?" she exclaims. "We can't just leave. She's not the brightest but I reckon she'd notice if we went missing."

  "What's she really gonna do, though?" Remus counters. "She's only a supply teacher, she can't do anything properly serious." He can tell that Cove's starting to come around to the idea and keeps pressing. "Kettleburn will understand where we're coming from when he's back and knock off all our detentions. You're one of his favourites, mind."

  It doesn't take much more convincing.

  Cove takes a deep breath. "Gods, you sound just like your mates. Fine, yes, I'll do it."

  He grins wolfishly. "Come on then. Let's hurry up before she comes back."

Remus gets out of his chair and saunters in between the desks until he's at the front. He turns over the keys in his palm, whistling in approval. "Tidy," he says, pocketing them.

  "Fast as you can," Cove calls, wrapping her arms around herself. "Anytime between now and tomorrow would be grand."

He rounds the table, coming to a stop in front of her. "So, where to first?"

  "Anywhere but this classroom."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  They have to fiddle with the rusty lock for a minute or two before making any progress, going flying out into the corridor when the stubborn door finally gives way. The coast is clear, much to their delight, however the final step for their plan to succeed is to simply act as naturally as possible until they've gotten at least as far as the opposite side of the castle. A crucial step, Cove is told.

  "I take it you've done this before?" she takes an educated guess.

"Oh, yeah, but that was by far the shortest detention of my life," Remus announces, breathing in the fresh air as if he's a man fresh out of prison.

  "You know, I don't think I've ever gotten detention before," Cove admits.

  "Never?" he gasps. "Not once?"

  She shakes her head, gnawing on her lip. Her sharp teeth catch on the skin and tear it, droplets of blood surfacing in the cracks of her chapped lips.

"Merlin, you must feel like you've just committed a crime then." He turns to her, faltering at the scarlet sight. "Ouch. That looks sore. I think I've got a packet of hankies somewhere if you want one?"

  "No, seriously, don't worry about it. I'll survive."

He stops in his tracks, rifling around in his bag for a packet of tissues. He holds one out to her. "I insist."

Cove takes it reluctantly. "It's only a split lip, Remus. You don't have to act so..." She trails off, trying to think of the right word.

"So what?"

"I dunno," she says. "Chivalrous?"

He laughs. "Is it chivalrous to be polite?"

"No, not really, I suppose."

He unexpectedly flings an arm out in front of her, ears twitching slightly. "Hang fire. Did you hear that?"

"Yeah—"

"—Sounds like—"

"—Footsteps."

Remus swears loudly. "Rigby! Come on!" he whisper shouts. Before she can register what's happening, he grabs onto her wrist gently and leads her down the hallway in a run.

  "Where are we going?" she asks, trying to push her erratic curls out of her eyes.

  "You'll see," he promises. "Trust me."

  He swerves sharply around a corner, seemingly into a dead end that's bare except for a sculpture and a few sconces upon the cobbled walls. He procures his wand from his trouser pocket and approaches the statue as if he's done it a million times already. It's depicting a one-eyed crone that's hunched over in a long cloak, her appearance reminding Cove of the Bean Nighe her mother used to tell her stories about not the nicest thing to be compared to, she knows, but there's some harsh truth to it. Remus mutters a spell and raps on its stone hump, which opens into a gaping black hole that shows no indication of what's on the other side. To say that Cove's sceptical would be a vast understatement.

  "Ladies first," he says gentlemanly. Cove doesn't know if that's the right word considering he's offering her a steep slide into an unknown abyss. "Trust me."

  She hesitates for a few seconds more before sighing and finally launching herself down into the darkness. It was between that and a lecture from her least favourite supply teacher.

  Remus soon thunks down next to her, accidentally elbowing her in the ribs due to the lack of light. Her night vision saves her once again. She opens her mouth to speak but is quickly silenced by his palm. He raises a finger to his lips, gesturing up towards the entrance of the secret passageway. The sound of footsteps had just rounded the corner by the time they'd both slid inside the cramped tunnel. When everything goes quiet above, he removes his hand and conjures a tiny beam of light with his wand to get a better look at their surroundings. She's very aware of how little space they have between them, practically chest to chest. Her palms start to sweat.

  "Is now a bad time to tell you I'm claustrophobic?"

  He looks at her incredulously, though upon seeing the poorly concealed smile on her lips they both burst out laughing. The sound echoes further down the tunnel, piquing her interest.

  "Hey, where does this even go to?" she wonders aloud, peering into the abyss that stretches in the other direction.

  "Honeydukes' cellar," Remus says proudly. "Takes, like, an hour to get there, maybe? It's always worth it though."

  She's suddenly thrumming with questions. "How'd you find out that this was here in the first place?"

  He thinks it over. "That's confidential."

  "Are there loads of wee secret tunnels in the school like this?"

  "Can neither confirm nor deny."

  She huffs. "You're so secretive. I might start to think that you're hiding something, Lupin."

  Her tone is joking but he goes as white as a sheet. "What?" he says, voice cracking. "Me? What would I have to be hiding? Ha. Pfft. Secrets." He trails off nervously, leaving Cove more bemused than she'd been before.

  "Okay," she replies slowly, shooting him a confused look. "Should we start heading back up?"

Remus scratches at his face as if the blush will rub off. "Yeah, yeah. Uh, I think she'll be gone soon."

Cove raises her eyebrows. "Soon?"

  "We'll make our move when we're sure she's gone," he elaborates. "Unless you feel like trekking all the way to Hogsmeade and back?"

  She purses her lips. "Fair play."

They sit for a moment, listening out to see if there's any life above ground. The silence is deafening almost suspiciously quiet, so they simply sit for a while longer. Remus' watch ticks past seven more minutes before they decide to start making a move. She notices that he smells vaguely like chamomile tea. She loves chamomile tea.

"We can probably go back up now," he says eventually. "I'll give you a leg up."

"Thanks," Cove replies awkwardly. She's glad that she wore shorts over her tights today.

As she approaches the far end of the passageway where they had first landed, the sealed over entrance squeals open, her corneas burning from the onslaught of candlelight. The stone is rough against her palms, leaving a few scrapes on her knees by the time she's got two feet on the actual floor. It's quite a disorienting experience.

She hangs about waiting while Remus hoists himself out of the statue, straining to pull himself up. She feels a bit guilty that she couldn't be of any help, but he seems capable enough on his own. He hands over her schoolbag with a grin on his face.

"Well," Cove says, rocking on the balls of her feet. "I'll see you later then."

  "Don't be daft," Remus dismisses. "I'll walk you to your common room."

Cove blinks in surprise. "Right. Okay. You're not allowed inside, though! Nobody from outside of Hufflepuff has ever been inside the common room for a century, or something. I think Professor Sprout's quite proud of that milestone."

He puts his hands up in surrender. "I'll not go inside. Swear."

  The two of them hurry through the halls, constantly looking over their shoulders in case of any teachers, but there's still a nice element to their little walk. Birds chirp in their nests as the hours fade away, preparing to hand over the day to the nightbirds in favour of their sleep. A pink and tangerine sunset smudges across the skyline outside, framing the mountains as if somebody had painted it especially for them. The torches come to life as it gets increasingly darker, flames standing to attention as they stroll past.

They round the corner that leads to her common room, passing by the portrait to the warm kitchens. She leads him towards a carefully stacked tower of barrels that are propped up next to a blank space on the wall, free from tapestries and portraits. Remus hangs back unsurely, having never seen anyone go into the Hufflepuff common room before.

Cove locates the barrel two from the bottom, in the middle of the second row and taps on its wooden face in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'. The stone wall grinds open, revealing a passageway with low hanging plants dangling from the ceiling and the relaxing smell of petrichor emanating from the earthy floors.

"Same time next week?" he asks before she can go in, inclining his head to the side like a lost puppy.

She beams, humming in affirmation. "Maybe next week we could actually go all the way to Honeydukes."

"Yeah! I'd like that."

"Oh and, Remus," she says, turning back around to face him, "don't get caught by Rigby."

He stares at her, tracing the grooves of her features and the freckles on her face. "I won't. Trust me, love, I've done it a million times before."

Cove doesn't quite know what else to say, so she just waves and steps through the opening into the passage as it's beginning to show signs of closing, a thick wall soon materialising to separate the two of them.




 

author's note!

cove is a goody two shoes that never breaks any rules ever and i love that for her

tbh everything i know abt the way welsh people speak comes exclusively from gavin and stacey so if remus just ends up sounding like nessa im SORRY

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