Who: Spencer and William When: Mid-morning, December 28th Where: The library What: Wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff
Movement caught the corner of William's eye, and he turned automatically toward the motion without thinking. The source of the distraction turned out to be Pearce-Parson, a third-year Slytherin (the worst year for that House, or so William had come to be convinced, although it was a close race), who, as William watched, stuffed something - a note? a list? Merlin forbid, a page from a book? - inside the library wall before plugging the gap. The boy looked over his shoulder as he fitted the stone into place, clearly nervous about his subterfuge being discovered, but he was looking in the wrong direction.
William took a step forward to reprimand him, and stopped again, abruptly dizzy. There was something in the way the light fell on that side of the room...too bright, perhaps, the shadows shorter, not quite right. It didn't make any sense, and when William blinked and shook his head to clear it, he opened his eyes to find everything as normal and Pearce-Parson gone.
He took the remaining steps over to the wall and smoothed his hand over the cool stones. This was the spot, he was certain of it. This was the shape of the stone, but when William pried at it with his fingertips, it wasn't even slightly loose. Nor did he remember it being so, or any of the other stones, although he couldn't say he made a habit of checking. Even so, he'd thought he would have noticed.
He tapped his wand around the edges of the stone, chipping at the masonry until it was loose enough to slide free of the wall, mortar crumbling to dust over his shoes and the carpet. Nothing. There was nothing there. No scrap of parchment, not the slightest sign of disturbance beyond what William had caused. He frowned, and looked around again. No sign of Pearce-Parson. William hadn't even known he was here in the library. He must have slipped in while William had been looking for a treatise on magical applications of woad. Strange, that.