She knew the weight of such a request.
She nodded silently.
“Good.” He leaned back into his chair.
“I wonder, though,” started Maeve. “If your Mother lived there, perhaps your father did too.”
Mal had, of course, already thought of this and merely grimaced.
Maeve spoke softly. “That’s why you want me to come.”
“If he’s there, Maeve. . .” She had never heard Mal speak quite so darkly. “If my disgusting father is there, I will need the best memory alteration there is.”
“Well,” said Maeve. “There is no one better than me.”
Mal met her gaze and returned the smirk that lingered on her lips.?
“Alright. I have an idea,” said Maeve, offhandedly, as she and Mal walked from the Herbology and Alchemy Greenhouses back down to the castle. “What if you come spend the summer at my house?”
Mal couldn’t hide the surprise on his face.
“Think about it,” continued Maeve. “All the parties my father throws, all the high ups, wealthiest purebloods and Double O officials- it could be your introduction to them. A way into that world. Not to mention Father’s expansive knowledge of the Magical Arts, his library, and the entire basement of the house- dedicated to Dark Magical artifacts, objects, and readings.”
Mal stopped walking. She turned back to him. “Basement?” He asked.
“Oh, yes. Thrilled me as a child. I snuck down there all the time.”
“What’s down there that can’t be in his office or his library?”
“Mostly family heirlooms, banned books, things the Double O has deemed ‘illegal.’ No one is allowed down there, or so says my Mother. Like I said, it didn’t stop me.”
Mal scoffed. “So, what makes you think I’ll step foot anywhere near it?”
“Is being one of the most powerful wizards alive not enough? No, you’ll make your way down there on your charm alone, I figure.”
Satisfied with this answer, Mal badgered her no more about the basement at Sinclair Estates and gladly accepted her offer. Maeve wrote to her father On the Wings that afternoon asking permission for Mal’s stay.
“Where will you tell him you’re going when we go to Ragsling Village?” Mal asked her the following day in Defensive Magic.
Maeve shrugged. “Nowhere. I’ll say you and I are making a quick stop on the way in, and it shouldn’t take but an extra day to get it done.”
Mal eyed her.
“What?
“Nothing.” He smiled. Not a real smile.
Maeve shrugged flippantly. “I mean, you don’t intend on sticking around, do you?”
“No,” he said grimly.
Every Professor seemingly felt the need to cram in as much new information as possible in their final week of schooling. Maeve had a stack of essays to finish on top of preparing for the final exams in the coming days.
In Defensive Magic, Headmaster Elgin decided the last minute was the perfect time to teach them about the most dangerous creatures one could encounter while battling the dark arts of Magic. Thanks to their Restricted Area readings Maeve already knew about most of them.
“Manticores are actually capable of human speech,” said Elgin.
Maeve recalled reading that hundreds of years ago, a manticore escaped its execution because of how horribly vicious it was. Not even the most trained Bellator could hold it captive.
