Recolitus Optimus
By megan_lupin
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Part II: Dark Witches and Prophecies
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Sirius simply stared at the detailed and vivid symbol on the card, his mind struggling to grasp exactly what he was seeing. It didn’t seem possible for it to be true; history had recorded everything about the Four Founders of Hogwarts, and surely any mention of Recolitus Optimus would have been made somewhere. Not even the most liberal histories or wildest rumours and legends of Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw even hinted at involvement with any orders or societies, much less one as well known as that of Recolitus Optimus.
But even as he watched the card, the thoughts crept into his mind. If Rowena Ravenclaw had had some involvement with that particular society, then the Branch of the Owl would have been the likeliest aspect for the witch’s wisdom. His own knowledge of the Founders wasn’t exactly plentiful, and he could only recall coming across information concerning Recolitus Optimus once in his life “ that book he had read so long ago. And although years had passed since that day, Sirius found that he could recall it now quite clearly.
Sun had been streaming in through the open library windows, and the house had been empty, he remembered. The silver text imprinted on the black leather spine had caught his eye as he scanned the library’s shelves, and, curious, he’d opened it in the very middle of the book “ right to the pages about Recolitus Optimus. And now, he found himself recalling the words almost as if he had the heavy leather tome still sitting in front of him:
Long believed to be the most powerful number in magic “ both Light and Dark “ the number of seven was the sole deciding factor in the organising of Recolitus Optimus, as that remains to be the only reason why there are no more or less than seven branches, all named after particular animals.
Lupus (Wolf), Ursus (Bear), Piscis (Fish), Noctua (Owl), Draco (Dragon), Canis (Dog), and Cervus (Stag) “ the seven branches of Recolitus Optimus “ have been a part of the society since shortly after its founding in approximately 1400 BC. However, although many legends and tales exist as to how the branches were named, nothing has been confirmed.
The most prominent “ and likely plausible “ theory has to do with the original leaders of each branch’s Inner Circle. For, while magic has always been tied closely to animals and creatures “ both magical and non-magical “ few societies and orders have been known to name every branch after a familiar animal, nor have reason behind its choosing.
With Recolitus Optimus, the branches were founded due to their purpose and other defining characteristics, and named after an animal symbolising such aspects:
Lupus, the Wolf, is ‘Mystery’; Ursus, the Bear, is ‘Strength’; Piscis, the Fish, is ‘Faith’; Noctua, the Owl, is ‘Wisdom’; Draco, the Dragon, is ‘Power’; Canis, the Dog, is ‘Loyalty’; and Cervus, the Stag, is ‘Leadership’, (though in some versions of the tale, the Stag is not ‘Leadership’, but rather, that of ‘Guidance’). Although very little proven information exists for non-members of the order as to what the precise functions of each branch were, their founding characteristic is enough to grant scholars a decent idea.
According to most learned witches and wizards, most notably that of Professor Samuel Hanley, Cervus, Draco, and Noctua “ the Stag, the Dragon, and the Owl “ are believed to have been the core and central leading branches of the society, due mostly to interpretation of their characteristics of Leadership, Power, and Wisdom respectfully. “It seems apparent that such symbolism had a purpose,” wrote Hanley, “and a ruling of three would have been common for societies during the time of the core founding of Recolitus Optimus.”
Professor Hanley also noted that Ursus “ the Bear “ was most likely the home of the guardians, or warriors, of the society’s members. “‘Strength,’ seems to suggest a physical nature of guardianship or protection,” he wrote.
Things become a bit more difficult with the other branches, as their qualities are not as definite as the others. The Branch of the Fish “ Piscis “ whose characteristic was Faith “ was most likely connected to teaching, while Canis “ the Dog “ was probably charged with the secrets of the society, (“much like a Secret-Keeper in the working of the Fidelius Charm,” added Hanley, as way of further explanation), as its characteristic was Loyalty. “Canis probably held the most power after the ruling triumvirate,” noted Hanley, “followed by Ursus and Piscis.”
The final branch, that of Lupus “ the Wolf “ remains the hardest to understand. Its defining characteristic being Mystery, not much is known about the Branch of the Wolf, neither in historical accounts or far-fetched legends. “It is possible that Lupus also held certain secrets of Recolitus Optimus, after or different from those held by Canis,” Hanley wrote in his book, Magic in the Ancient Years: An Intense Study of Communities and Secrets That Survive Today.
Sirius tore his mind back to the present, though his gaze was still focussed on the card. Ravenclaw was no longer moving “ She was so still that she even appeared like a Muggle photograph “ but the symbol of the Branch of the Owl remained in the very centre, vivid and detailed. He realised, suddenly, that his finger was hovering right next to the symbol, ready to touch it; but he could not even remember bringing his finger from the card’s edges. No, he thought to himself, pulling away from the symbol. Forget it. And he stuffed the card in his pocket, letting it join the one of Melinda Maleficent.
Once he’d put the card away, Sirius left Ollivander’s, striding straight down the main cobblestone street of Diagon Alley in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron. He would enter the building and go immediately to the Floo-connected fireplace. A heavy yawn escaped him when he was only inches from leaving Diagon Alley, and the cracking sound of someone Disapparating reached his ears.
Now, why didn’t I think of that before? he thought, but then decided that it was because he was now so tired that his brain wasn’t thinking straight. There wasn’t a need to Floo into Hogsmeade when he could Apparate right outside the school’s gates, after all. So with that, he changed direction, turning around the corner to the main Apparition points. Letting out another yawn, Sirius thought of Hogwarts, and Disapparated.
Arriving almost instantly outside the school, Sirius was met with towering iron gates, the statues of two winged boars on either side. He glanced around for a moment to ensure the coast was clear and transformed into Padfoot for the second time that night. (He had no idea what time it was and really wasn’t in the mood to try and explain to anyone why he was wandering into the school in a ragged T-shirt and trousers in the middle of the night/early morning.) It was just easier to sneak in as a dog.
But Sirius didn’t get too far past the gates “ which had, fortunately, been open “ before his attention was diverted from the school’s front doors. He thought he had seen movement over on the west side of the castle, and for some reason, he didn’t think it had been an animal. A lone light from one of the upper towers shone down on the grounds, providing more light than just what the moon and stars had to offer, and a shadow had been cast upon the castle’s stone wall, flickering as the figure had moved. At least, Sirius thought he had seen someone.
A quick look, he thought, heading off to the west side of the school, where the lighted tower was. One look, and then into the school … just to be sure. But when he arrived under the tower, standing right where the shadow had been, there was nothing “ no one was there, and there was no sign or clue that anyone had been there. You need sleep, Padfoot, he thought, turning away from the wall.
But then, he felt an icy cold run through his leg and travel over his body. Sirius yelped in surprise. A tingling feeling soon followed, and then another burst of cold. Instantly, he had transformed back and was reaching inside his pocket to pull out the card that was sending the gripping cold through him.
In his palm was the card of Rowena Ravenclaw, the symbol of the Branch of the Owl glowing brightly “ and this time, it actually was glowing. The lines in the symbol all shone with a white light, as if they were cut out and sunlight was shining straight through the gaps. Even the words wrapped around the edges of the image were lit up, and the feeling of ice travelling all over him ran through Sirius again, from his hand, up through his arm, and then to the rest of his body.
“What now?” he hissed, the frustration and exhaustion evident in his voice as he spoke, his tired eyes focussed on the card. Rowena’s own eyes stared right back at him, and it was as if she was trying to speak to him.
“If you think I’m touching that thing again, you’re mad,” he muttered, but paused in his tirade. I’m telling a card it’s mad? I’m talking to a painted image on a card, and the card is the one that’s mad? He shook his head to try and clear it “ trying to ignore the waves of cold that ran through him repeatedly as well “ but as he did so, his eyes caught sight of something engraved on the wall, something he had never seen at the school before. He turned back to look more closely.
Located level with his eyes was a very faint image, only about the size of a normal human hand. It was imprinted into the stone block, and some of its detail appeared to have eroded away over the years. Yet it still looked to be almost part of the stone wall, like it had been there since the very beginning of the castle, of Hogwarts. And while Sirius had never seen the image in Hogwarts, he had seen it before “ and he’d even seen it tonight; an image of the symbol was in his hand, as a matter of fact.
For, located right on the walls of Hogwarts, was an engraved image of the Branch of the Owl of Recolitus Optimus. And it, too, was acting like its copy on the Chocolate Frog card and starting to glow. The fiery vines were filled with a gleaming white light, as were the owls, wands, and sword. The words, however, had a blue haze shimmering around them.
Before Sirius had realised it, he found that he had brought his free hand “ the one not holding the still-freezing card “ up to hover centimetres from the symbol on the stone. Noticing this, he jerked it away. There is no way I’m touching that, he thought, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove his hand completely; it still hovered over the image “ just further away than it had been earlier.
Sirius looked back at the card in his hand, seeing instantly that the light had increased; it was so bright he had to squint when he looked at the card. As the light increased, so did the cold that continued rushing up his arm but, like in the wand shop, he found that he couldn’t toss the card away. His eyes met those of Ravenclaw’s, and for the briefest of moments, Sirius could have sworn that he saw her nod towards the symbol on the stone wall. He looked back and saw something that, while in the dark hadn’t been visible, but due to the increased light coming from both the card and the engraving, could now be clearly seen.
Below the imprinted symbol on the stone wall, there was an indention. It was very faint and shallow, and could easily be mistaken for erosion on the structure. But Sirius knew better. He knew that it had been placed there at the same time that the symbol was placed.
It was in the shape of a square, with its four equal sides, though it was turned slightly to make it resemble a diamond. The indention wasn’t very large, either; it was only around the size of a human’s palm … and a perfect fit for the card that he held in his other hand.
Sirius looked from the indention to the card and back again. It didn’t make a lot of sense, if one thought about it all logically. After all, the castle had been here for a thousand years, and this symbol and indention looked like it had been here just as long, but Chocolate Frog cards weren’t nearly that old. (Yes, they’d been around for quite some time, but nowhere near a millennium.)
“And yet,” he muttered, still staring at the card and the indention. Different thoughts raged through the young man’s mind, some good, some bad, and some just so crazy that they could only have been brought on by his growing exhaustion. There was a part of him that, like the other times throughout the night, screamed caution. “Don’t try it … It’s foolish … You don’t know what it’ll do …” But there was the whole other side of the argument, increased by the rampant curiosity that pumped through his veins … and the idea of finding someplace in the school that he and the other Marauders hadn’t discovered yet.
And just like the other times that night, Sirius gave into the curiosity, placing the freezing card of Rowena Ravenclaw into the indention.
Instantly, the glowing light disappeared, plunging Sirius and the rest of the grounds into the darkness of night that was only pierced by nature’s moon and stars. For a moment, nothing else happened, and Sirius was just about to turn back towards the castle doors, slight disappoint replacing the curiosity of earlier, when a sound reached his ears.
It sounded like there were locks that were being opened; there was a clicking noise that seemed to be coming from inside the wall. Sirius stared at the stone in front of him, watching as several of the blocks folded in on each other before tumbling to the ground. He jumped back to avoid the few that threatened to land on him. But after barely a minute, the stones stopped moving, the noises ceased, and everything was still.
Sirius glared at the opening in front of him that had been made by the moving stones. It wasn’t a very large hole, but big enough for an average-sized person to climb through. He couldn’t see anything beyond the gap, however. The light from the moon didn’t penetrate that far, and the tunnel “ It looks like a tunnel, anyway “ was cloaked in a heavy, black darkness.
“Why not?” he said as he placed his hands on the ledge and pulled himself up and through the gap. He landed in a crouch on the dirt floor below, and as he stood up, he stared around the tunnel.
It was much larger than it had appeared to be, especially considering the tiny entrance hole. Sirius had expected that it would be low and narrow, but he couldn’t have been more mistaken. The tunnel was wide enough to fit at least five people standing side by side, and it towered several metres above him “ a low ceiling was definitely not a problem. As he took another step forwards, light flared from a set of torches on the walls, their flames sending flickering shadows to the ground, as well as revealing another set of torches located a little further down the path. The end, however, was still cloaked in shadow.
A burning sense of curiosity and adventure flowed through Sirius, pushing down the exhaustion that sought to overcome him. His eyes were no longer drooping, and he hadn’t yawned in nearly an hour. This tunnel was an unknown quality, a place that no one had been through in quite a long time “ judging from the appearance of both the entrance and the tunnel itself. Even in all of the wandering they had done while at school, this tunnel was not even known to the Marauders … At least, until now.
Grinning, Sirius walked forwards, travelling further down the dirt path.
At least an hour had passed, and the sense of curiosity and adventure that had run through Sirius's veins had dwindled, becoming almost non-existent as the time continued ticking by. The long, massive tunnel had not even changed direction once, leaving Sirius with only a straight and boring path to follow, the tarnished torches hissing repeatedly into life as he approached a new set with every step.
This is ridiculous, he thought to himself, once again losing the battle to suppress another heavy, lengthy yawn. He had even tried journeying as Padfoot for awhile, in the hope that he might have more energy than he did while in human form. Needless to say, it didn’t work out. He was just as exhausted walking as a large black dog as he was while travelling as a seventeen-year-old wizard.
Another yawn tore from his mouth, and Sirius leaned back against the dirt wall for some support. Ever so slowly, the young man slumped down the wall, landing sitting upon the ancient floor, flickering firelight from the tarnished torches casting thin shadows over the area. The floor was, surprisingly, quite comfortable, considering it was strictly dirt, its brown colour matching the walls perfectly. As a matter of fact, it didn’t really feel like a hard dirt floor to Sirius, and as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, high levels of sleep battling down his will to stay awake, the floor became less and less like dirt and more and more like soft mattresses and thick blankets.
It would only be for a moment’s rest, he thought, slipping further and further to his side as he started to lie down on the floor. Just a brief rest, that’s all, before going on …
And as the third yawn in just a couple minutes escaped the young man, Sirius lost his battle with consciousness and drifted off to sleep.
He never knew how many times he awoke, only to be conscious for a brief moment before slipping back off into sleep. The first time, Sirius remembered, he had been torn from unconsciousness by a freezing cold that raced up and down his body, causing him to shiver and wake up suddenly. He lay on the floor shaking for some time, his body feeling the coldness travel through it over and over again, his teeth chattering. Sirius could even see his breath when he opened his eyes. (At least, he thought he was able to see his breath … But then again, he wasn’t exactly thinking completely straight at the time.)
Almost as soon as the coldness had come and torn Sirius from his sleep, however, it had all but disappeared, to be replaced by a calming, welcoming warm feeling that enveloped him lovingly, kindly, and before he realised it, Sirius had drifted back into his world of dreams.
Sirius woke up several more times through his slumber, though he didn’t recall any of them as vividly as the first time, what with its icy blasts of cold and welcoming warm touches at the end. He did, however, remember most of his dreams … Not that they made a great deal of sense to him, either.
The first few had been normal, in the grand scheme of things. They had not been ‘dreams,’ as much as they had been memories, but after several years of dealing with his past, Sirius was almost immune to the thoughts’ effects. Flashes of past arguments with his family did not cause him to awake in the middle of the night, unable to fall back to sleep for hours “ if at all “ like they had in the first few years. He no longer awoke in a cold sweat, struggling to control his breathing, when the images were particularly vivid. It had been almost a year since he’d had a sleepless night due to his memories … or nightmares … or even his dreams, in some cases.
But his dreams tonight weren’t exactly the same, Sirius knew. The images that flashed through his mind, each thought seeking dominance among the others, were still the same, yes, but there were flashes of something else as well. His family weren’t the only people in his dreams this time, though he did recognise the other woman. He had seen her long, straggly black hair before as it fell like a curtain around her pale, gaunt face, the straight locks of hair falling down her thin back to her waist. Sirius had stared into her fathomless blue eyes as they burned out at him, linking up with him, connecting with something that was inside of him. Her face, holding absolutely no expression on it, still seemed alive, however, just as it had when it glared out from an image on a card that very night. Melinda Maleficent stalked through the multiple images of Sirius's dreams, her lips moving as if chanting. Words echoed through the flashes of images, seemingly not connected to his normal nightmares at all.
That none could destroy:
Leadership, Loyalty, Betrayal, Mystery.
Unknown, such unity ever was.
Yet fall, they will.
Suspicion and mistrust will descend on Mystery,
Though Betrayal will remain.
Leadership will fall to Betrayal,
As Loyalty will also be wounded by it.
Darkness will rise and grow.
The unbreakable bond
Will shatter.”
But the words weren’t just spoken once. No, whenever Maleficent finished the prophecy “ For what else could it be but a prophecy of some kind? “ the Dark witch would pause for the briefest of moments before repeating it once again.
Sirius returned to consciousness again and again, his mind eventually losing track of not only how many times he had drifted in and out, but also when he was awake and when he wasn’t. Maleficent never seemed to disappear from his vision, though the images from his dreams would fade during the moments that he was conscious. The Dark witch, however, was always there it seemed, staring intently at him, her cold, blue depths connecting solidly with his own steel gaze as her lips moved with the speaking of the prophetic words.
That none could destroy.”
Wake up, Sirius, the young man thought to himself as he struggled to pull himself away from sleep … or whatever it was that held him. But while the images of his dreams faded, Maleficent still remained as clear and solid as ever.
Darkness will grow.
The unbreakable bond
Will shatter.”
And as Sirius came to the abrupt realisation that he was, indeed, fully awake and conscious, and that Melinda was still standing only a few feet in front of him, the young man pushed himself further against the wall, scrambling back and to his feet as he struggled to get up and away from the Dark witch. She did not, however, take any notice of him.
Though Betrayal will remain.
Leadership will fall to Betrayal,
As Loyalty will also be wounded by it.”
“What do you want?” asked Sirius, speaking for the first time to the figure of Melinda.
Her only response, though, was to continue repeating the prophecy in her monotone voice.
The unbreakable bond
Will shatter.”
On instinct, Sirius reached into his pocket, withdrawing Melinda’s card. Glancing at it, he saw that her image was blank except for the picture of the symbol of the Branch of the Dragon. He looked from the card to the figure of Maleficent in front of him and back again, trying to get his exhausted mind to understand the entire situation. It wouldn’t. It just was not possible for a Chocolate Frog card image to appear, life-size, out of the card.
“I said, what do you want?” he said, but Maleficent just kept repeating her prophecy. “What is that supposed to mean, anyway?” Sirius exclaimed, any shred of patience he had still retained after the draining night finally leaving the young man. As he spoke, Sirius had hurled the card at the figure, only to watch as it sailed right through her chest and connected with the dirt wall behind her.
The action did, on the other hand, have the effect of getting the witch’s attention, though as she stopped speaking and glared directly at Sirius, he felt like he wasn’t quite sure if that was something that he had really wanted to do. His anxiety increased when the Dark witch withdrew a wand from her robes, and as she pointed its tip directly at his chest, Sirius desperately missed the cool, ebony-coloured wood of his own wand.
Now what, Padfoot? he thought to himself, eyeing the wand warily. But Melinda Maleficent never uttered any spell, nor did she start repeating the prophecy again. Rather, she slowly lowered the wooden wand from Sirius's chest, bringing its point facing the ground.
A great sigh of relief had barely escaped Sirius's mouth before the entire tunnel was encompassed by a sudden flash of blindingly white light. He hurriedly brought an arm to his eyes, squeezing them shut in an effort to block out the light. The action didn’t help much, as the intensity of it was so great, but like the coldness with the card earlier in his sleep, the white light left just as suddenly as it had come.
When Sirius thought it was safe to open his eyes again, he lowered his arm and did so. The tunnel had returned to its normal lighting level, with just the few flickering flames of fire shining from the scattered torches providing the only light. But while the light had disappeared “ as well as Melinda, for that matter, but Sirius wasn’t too concerned with where the witch had gone “ something else had appeared in the tunnel, and it stood only a few metres away from Sirius.
Looking to his left, Sirius caught sight of a large stone table “ or an altar, more like, -- that stretched almost the entire width of the dark, dirt tunnel. The stone top of the altar was dirty and chipped, its appearance making one think that it had been down here for centuries. And like everything else tonight, it probably is centuries old, thought Sirius, stepping forwards to approach the stone structure. It wasn’t until he was nearly touching it that he noticed there was an object sitting on the table.
A heavy leather book was in the very centre of the altar, shadows from the torches casting over its blood-red cover. No script that could be considered a title of any sort could be seen, as far as Sirius could tell. There were some odd markings, but they didn’t seem quite like runes or titles as they did some weird sort of decoration.
For the first time that night, Sirius did not allow his curiosity to overpower him and make him touch the book. Warnings were going off in his mind worse than ever, and Sirius was too exhausted to argue with them, if he was honest with himself. And as much as he wanted to know what precisely was in that book, he listed to the cautious voice in his head.
But in this instance, it didn’t seem to matter that he hadn’t touched the book. The book, apparently, was intent on being looked at. As Sirius started to turn away from the altar with the intention of leaving the tunnel, the large tome seemed to open of its own accord, the pages rustling in an imaginary wind as it flipped all the way towards the ending of the book, to a page very near the conclusion.
“Forget it,” muttered Sirius, turning his head away from the book for the second time … before he brought it suddenly back as an image on the left-hand page had caught his eye.
It was another symbol for Recolitus Optimus … At least, that was what Sirius thought it was. He had never seen this particular image before; the book in his father’s library had included the different symbols for the seven branches of the society, but this image hadn’t been included. Yet, it was so much like the others that there just had to be a connection, Sirius knew.
Fiery vines created the outer circle of the symbol, and there were the same crossing wands and intersecting sword. The animal, however, was not one of the seven “ Wolf, Dog, Stag, Dragon, Owl, Bear, and Fish “ but rather, it was a small rodent, and looked remarkably like a rat or a mouse, if Sirius had to guess. It was located to the right of the sword, with three words located to the sword’s other side:
“Well, that answers the question of the animal’s identity,” muttered Sirius, a fourth yawn escaping the young wizard as his gaze drifted from the image to the bit of text on the next page.
Long rumoured in legend is this mysterious eighth branch of Recolitus Optimus, though almost no evidence exists to confirm or deny the branch’s reality. Many scholars argue that it is based in nothing but fanciful tall tales, ‘containing no truth at all’.
But what do the legends say concerning this unknown and possibly false branch of the ancient historical society?
According to legend, the Branch of the Rat (‘Mus’) was founded around the early 1500s AD, though it was unable to survive past its founding year, and should, in reality, not have been developed at all. For, unlike the other seven “ and core “ branches of Recolitus Optimus, the Branch of the Rat was made up of members of several of the other branches, and was intended as a form of rebellion and betrayal.
It is unknown what, precisely, caused members of the society to form this branch of betrayal. This aspect of founding in betrayal became the reason for the branch choosing the rat as its symbol, for the rat has been a creature linked with that of betrayal for years. It is believed that the members who had united to form the Branch of the Rat chose the animal in a sense of irony, as they were, in essence, “betraying the Order of Recolitus Optimus”.
The legend of such a branch, however, becomes even hazier on how, precisely, it ceased to exist “ if it ever did exist. Many different tales abound as to what happened, the most prominent of which being that there was an assassination attempt on the leading triumvirate “ Most claim that it was the leader of Cervus, the Stag, that was targeted, though like with the other legends, there are also many variations with this part of the story as well “ that had been orchestrated by the Branch of the Rat.
Regardless, the fact remains that the existence of such a branch has always been unproven, and in all likelihood, the Branch of the Rat never did exist. Assassination attempts on members of the society, especially those of a branch’s Inner Circle, have been scattered throughout history, both coming from within and outside of the order itself.
Sirius looked back over at the image after he had finished reading the text. As he stared at it, Melinda Maleficent’s prophecy floated through his mind. It had talked of betrayal, of an unbroken bond that darkness would shatter. And it seemed that such a thing just very well could have happened in Recolitus Optimus, if there was truth in this eighth branch existing in the society.
But even as he thought about it, there was something in Sirius's mind that told him that was not completely correct. There was just something about Melinda’s words that spoke of future events, but if it had been referring to the Branch of the Rat, those events would have happened in Maleficent’s past. It just felt to the young wizard like he was missing something.
And he still couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that Melinda Maleficent’s eyes had given him. Those blue orbs had seemed to glare right into his very soul, searching and seeking to connect with him. Just the thought of it made a shiver race the length of Sirius's spine as he stepped further away from the book. Once again that night, he told himself that it wasn’t possible.
“Maleficent is dead,” he muttered, turning his gaze from the book and the altar and heading further down the tunnel. Now, he was determined to get out of the dark underground path. A sense of curiosity and adventure could no longer hold him there “ His exhaustion was too great, and it wasn’t as enjoyable exploring this place alone. He would come back later with the others “ after sleeping for three days straight, that is.
As Sirius turned the corner, he didn’t even noticed the discarded Chocolate Frog card of Melinda Maleficent began to glow and rise off of the ground, disappearing suddenly in a puff of smoke.
Twenty minutes, numerous turns, and uncountable yawns and curses later, Sirius finally arrived inside the school. A smile splitting his face for the briefest of moments before another yawn interrupted it, the teen glanced around at the large tapestry to his left, recognising it immediately. Somehow, he must have travelled upwards, because he was in a little-used corridor on the sixth floor. And that meant that the Gryffindor common room “ and his dormitory with its perfect and very enticing bed “ was only one floor above him.
Hurrying up the sole flight of stairs that led to the seventh floor and Gryffindor Tower, Sirius passed a couple windows, a thin ray of sunlight starting to shine through the glass panes. Apparently, more time had passed than I thought. Morning was fast approaching, and regardless of the fact that it was Sunday, he knew there would be students heading towards an early breakfast soon.
But breakfast was the farthest thing from Sirius's mind as he muttered the password to the Fat Lady and entered the red-and-gold clad common room of Gryffindor House. He didn’t spare a glance at the small group of third-year girls sitting at one of the tables, muttering as they finished up an assignment. He didn’t turn around as he heard someone call his name, but rather just kept walking.
It wasn’t until he had collapsed on his bed that he made a noise at all.
A great sigh of relief, relaxation, and welcomed comfort escaped him, but he was mistaken when he thought everyone else was still asleep.
“Where have you been all night, Padfoot?”
Sirius turned his head in the direction of the voice, sparing his best friend a quick glance before slamming his eyes shut again in exhaustion and muttering a quick answer to James’s question.
“You have no idea,” he said. “None at all.”
Author’s Note: And that’s the end of the story. I hope you all enjoyed reading Recolitus Optimus as much as I enjoyed writing it, and don’t hesitate to let me know what you thought.
~Megan