The parchment, crisp and unyielding to her grasp, was being bored into by the intense gaze that was fixed onto the delicate script that had been scratched into the surface of the page. It seemed, in the dim light of the candles hovering in the air above the four poster beds of the girls’ dorms, to want to buckle under her glare; it had yet to do so, however, and remained strong underneath her intense, accusatory eyes. The script was the tone of a summons, addressed to her without any suggestion that someone else might well be joining them. It would be a single meeting, no doubt to be followed by others, in which the young witch would be moulded into something Grindelwald would be proud of. The witch was aware she was in a rather elevated position and that in itself was precarious enough but with the Death Eaters being preached and portrayed to be some sort of threat to Grindelwald’s rule, she had to be changed into something he could manipulate. Athena was bitterly aware of this and was determined to make life difficult for the man. She was not, after all, a woman easily cowed.
Finally, the parchment gave way and crumpled as her fingers curled into her palm. She threw her arm out to the side and released the parchment, allowing it to tumble, with a slight thrust of magic, into the slow burning wood in the hearth of the fireplace. Her shoulders fell slightly and she turned her head, her eyes reflecting the rippling dance of the flames. Her fingers drummed idly on her knee through the thick robes she’d slipped into after returning to the dungeons having left her final class. She’d done very little homework, the blank parchment a testament to her neglect of her work, and now the summons was more of an opportunity to waste her N.E.W.T studies. She had a weighted mind, something which the girls in the dorms closer to her than others had observed. She was unsure as to her problem yet she felt as if she’d been scorned, insulted in some way unknown to her as of yet. Her desire to find the hidden cause of her upset had prompted the absent mindedness and now, upon the receiving of the summons, she felt as if she was bring brought quite cruelly back down to planet Earth.
She had not forgotten her place, though. She knew that the summons was not a request, rather an order. It mattered not that she was on good terms with Ms. Forbes. What mattered was where the allegiances lied and Athena’s was in doubt. It needed to be fixed, or at least convinced of. She would go, if only to reaffirm and convince them of what they wished to hear.
Within five minutes, Athena had brought herself out of the chill of the dungeons yet still hugged the robes she wore tighter around her. The mumbles of prefects could be heard further down the hall and quickly the girl picked up pace, winding up the staircases until she found the entrance to the south tower. She then stalked up another staircase before finally arriving on the doorstep of Zada’s rooms. Sighing gently, Athena brought her hand up, curled her fingers into her palm and rapped her knuckles against the door, praying the woman was present.