Dinner at Hogwarts was never a time he particularly looked forward to. The food was lackluster in taste and quality, and the sound of a buzzing dinner hall with hundreds of other students made the whole ordeal feel less like dinners he was used to and too much like a communal canteen. This evening was both better and worse simultaneously. An unexpected summoning kept him too preoccupied to bother with both the food and the other students, but knowing—or more accurately: not knowing— what awaited him in an abandoned classroom with his assigned “assistant” after, stopped him from enjoying the well-deserved break from the usual school routine. Harvey had asked him to meet him up, which did not bode well.
Finishing the last of his dinner, he headed for the second floor. Striding through the corridor with increasing wariness in his steps, Camille approached the door to the abandoned classroom where the half-goblin had summoned him. Don’t ask why he’d agreed, but it had sounded awfully important. Reaching the door, he wrapped his fingers around the cold, old handle and pushed the door open. Immediately accosted by dust, stale air and a faint smell of old wood, he raised his arm to his face, coughing into his sleeve. Grimacing in disgust, he lowered his arm from his face and squinted skeptically around the classroom. Aside from the two of them, a company he usually didn’t wish to spend his time with under normal circumstances, the room was empty.
Coming to a halt a few steps away from Harvey, he assessed him and his unusually fancy attire for a simple day of classes, and a formal piece of paper laid out on one of the tables. He glanced between the boy and the paper. What on earth had he walked in on, Camille thought in slight alarm. Several dramatic explanations came to mind; a sacrifice or satanic ritual? At least he knew when he was being paranoid without reason. Harvey might not be his favorite person in the whole world, but he would begrudgingly have to admit that the boy, despite whatever prejudices one might have about certain half-breeds, usually expressed somewhat sane and reasonable opinions. He’d never told him in person, of course, but it was a private opinion he’d composed these last months that definitely influenced his decision to show up this evening.
“You called?”
Just a few months ago, Harvey could only have wished in his wildest dreams to spend time with Camille— alone— out of Camille’s own free will. Most of the last months had been spent religiously avoiding the half-goblin, until he’d eventually gotten tired of being on a constant run. Besides, once he’d stopped caring as much about his presence, it had turned out that his fears were mostly unjustified. Most of the time, they only saw each other for events anyway. However, just because he’d decided to be compliant this once did not mean that he would trust him blindly in his little schemes. The Frenchman crossed his arms over his chest. Why he’d requested to meet with him here remained a mystery that needed to be solved.
“So, what exactly am I doing here, Harvey?” If Harvey indeed had informed him about the details of this meeting, he must not have been listening properly to remember them. His gaze lingered pointedly at the paper, a contract to sign of sorts. If he thought Camille was striking any deals with him, he was mistaken.
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