Nick Broda's last option Chapter 1
*****Hello readers! Before you go on to read, it's worth noting that the amazing Poetic Devices has had a huge hand in editing this project and it really wouldn't be what it is today with out them! I could not be more grateful for all the hours that have been poured into this project. I'm busting at the seams with effervescent appreciation!*****
For those who have been waiting forever and a day for this project to pick up speed, never fear the end is near! We're hoping to post a new chapter a week starting next week. As always, we love hearing your comments, criticism, and feedback. Read and enjoy!
Speaking key:
Parseltongue
English
"Talking"
Speaking in the mind
"It's not as if we have a plethora of options at this point" Alex pointed out. He picked up the nearly empty bottle of wine and passed it to his nephew.
Nicholas glared at the bottle, not bothering to stretch out his rag-covered arm.
"You've exhausted all the other options. There is little else to choose from- So stop this infernal moping and pick a school."
"Australia…" Nick started, but was cut off when the wine bottle was suddenly being chucked at his head. He managed to dodge the flying object, and not a moment too soon. "Right, need citizenship, forgot. Surely Canada doesn't have the best relationship between Muggles and Magics? There must be schools in Canada that won't require Canadian citizenship."
"Yes, there are three options. The school on Salt Spring Island, BC…"
"No," Nick huffed. The very thought of attending the hippy-dippy school was enough to offend every fiber of his being.
But Alex only snorted, and continued. "Right, well, there is also the school in the Alberta-BC border. I might remind you that it is a 'survival of the fittest' type of school, however." Nick visibly winced at this. "I'll take that as a no, then. That leaves The Healer's school in Toronto, but since you've never once shown an interest in healing I think I can assume that's not an option."
Nick remained seated on the threadbare couch he had claimed as his own, staring at his fingers as he drummed them on his knees. "There are schools in Japan that I would qualify for." An empty wine glass whizzed passed Nick, and smashed against the wall of the shack in which the two sat. "Right, I only really speak English and Parseltongue..."
"Really only parseltongue, in case you haven't noticed. You sound daft when you speak English."
Nick threw his arms up into the air, a cloud of dust billowing up as if to help illustrate his point. "That's what I'm saying Uncle! How the hell do you expect me to learn anything in an all-English school? Last I checked, the only Parseltongue left in Europe is a crazy mass murderer. I doubt he'll be willing to help explain my homework to me. Plus, all the spells will be in Latin. I don't even speak English, but Latin? Latin spells?!"
"Sit. Down." Alex wrenched Nick back down onto the weathered couch. "Look, Durmstrang is fairly Dark arts friendly…."
"Parseltongue is a language. Not bloody Dark Magic" Nicholas shoved his uncle's hand away. He refused to turn into some curse slingling maniac, just because he was a parseltongue.
Nick let his arms rest against the threadbare arm of the couch again. Something squeaked and rustled inside the couch fabric, scampering away from the arm and further towards the center of the sofa. Nick ignored it at first.
"The Europeans don't tend to agree. One of Hogwarts' founders was a parseltongue, so there is a chance they will know of underground parseltongue communities that we don't know of, because of the wing-nut 'dark lord.' I really think this is your best option, Nicholas."
Nick grabbed his empty wine glass and tossed it at the far wall, just to watch is shatter. "Mend," he commanded. The glass reformed itself in a blink and lay on its side against the rotting floorboards. There wasn't much else in the shack to break at this point. Half the front door was missing (probably an angry werewolf trying to break in or out). The windows had only a sliver or two left of the old panes of glass, held to the frame by sheer force of will, Nick could only guess.
"Look, I know you'd rather stay with myself and the others, but that isn't an option anymore. You know that. Once you've been trained a bit more, then obviously you can continue traveling with us, but after last week…"
Nick huffed loudly, and the animal in the couch seemed to sense his anger, because the next moment it was exiting the couch and making a break for the door, clamoring around the bits of brick that had fallen from the crumbled remains of the fireplace. For a fraction of a second, Nick thought about running after it to escaping his Uncle's crazy plans.
But the thought passed as quickly as it came. Where would he go without the guidance and protection of his Uncle's (albeit strange) coven?
"That was an accident. How was I supposed to know what those damned Runes meant?" Nick growled.
Alex ran his finger over his immaculately-kept nineteenth century suit cuffs. A brief moment of contemplation played over his face before he schooled his features once more and turned to face his adoptive nephew,stern.
"Child, I'm not arguing the point. As the hunt gets more challenging we'll end up facing great risks. You simply don't know enough to survive most of these…. adventures. During the summer you'll join us again to search, but for the most part we need you to focus on your studies..."
"I am focused!"
"Yes, but in a safe place," Alex continued, throwing a pointed glare at Nick for the interruption. Nick gave a dramatic sigh and flopped back onto the couch. "At this point, your options are Durmstrang or Hogwarts, but one of them will be receiving a letter requesting a transfer by the end of the night, so which is it? Unless, of course, you'd rather rejoin your cousins at your Aunt's house?"
Nick seethed at the low blow, grumbling, "Obviously I have no wish to join that bloody psychopath again. How many times did she just leave me and my cousins to either die or figure things out for ourselves? Uncle, I watched my own, bloody cousin die of drugs and the cold in a back alley in Seoul. The only reason I and the other two survived was because that bloody frozen peacock from your coven found us and brought us to Shaman Mao".
"True, your Aunt has … unconventional methods of raising the young." Alex agreed calmly.
"Unconventional?!"
"Calm yourself, going back to your Aunt's wasn't really an option. I was simply trying to make a point. Going to a school in Europe for a year or two isn't the worst thing that could have or has happened to you," Alex pointed out. He pulled a rustic gold watch from his vest pocket, then tisked and tutted disappointedly at what he saw. "Well, I haven't all night. Which will it be? Hogwarts or Drumstead?"
"Might as well be Hogwarts, maybe they'll at least have a few books I can understand. Screw me now, English for eight months of the year," he muttered bitterly, "I can barely manage five minutes in English."
Nick covered his face with his hands. Alex patted the boy's arm in what was possibly a halfhearted attempt at reassurance, before pulling out some parchment and a quill to write a note to the head of Hogwarts: Professor Dumbledore.
…..
"Speak English if you must speak at all," Alex warned as he gripped Nick's arm, and apparated the pair to the front gates of the formidable Hogwarts castle.
An old man with a white beard and twinkling blue eyes waited patiently, with hands clasped in front of his waist. "Ah, you must be Mr. Broda" The elderly man smiled gently at Nick, before turning his gaze to Alex. The man didn't exactly sneer,but the greeting towards Alex was clearly not as friendly, "Mr. Legaunt, I presume."
"A pleasure, I'm sure," Alex gave a slight bow, then turned to Nick. He said nothing else, only raised a single eyebrow. Nick wanted to say that he'd be fine, that he didn't need the old leech hovering, but he really didn't know that many words in English. Instead, he settled for a haughty sneer.
"If you have any problems, do not hesitate to contact me immediately. If you are, in fact, willing to take Mr. Borda in as a student, please contact me so that I may send over his luggage." With a final glare towards Nick and a simple bow to the Headmaster, Alex vanished with an abruptness in a puff of smoke.
"Well then, shall we?" the old man motioned with an aged hand towards the imposing castle at the top of the hill.
Nick bit back a sigh of frustration as he found he simply didn't know enough English to say more than yes or no. Nick would have rather preferred they flew up the hill, but without a reasonable grasp of the language, the boy found himself awkwardly trailing the old man up to the castle.
The castle was about as stunning as any castle Nick had ever seen. It was certainly in overall better condition then the Russian castle Nick had stayed in with his Aunt and Cousins when his parents first died, but it wasn't any more spectacular than most of the Castles owned by family or Coven members whom Alex had visited over the years.
The lake was a nice touch though, Nick admitted silently to himself. It made the whole place seem a bit more majestic. Water had that quality.
The four towers had a certain presence about them too, now that Nick really took a look at the place. They looked more than just sturdy, they looked almost... welcoming. The castle as a whole, really, had an air of welcoming. Like a well loved family home.
The castle wasn't as cold as Nick had expected from a building made of nothing but magic and stone.
As the two carried on, Headmaster Dumbledore dutifully explained a variety of the many wonders and mysteries of the castle, most of which Nick hadn't the faintest idea what he was going on about. He was led through a set of wooden double doors, into what looked to be a rather large and intimidating eating hall.
Then, he was led to a staircase that moved. Certainly intriguing.
Dumbledore chuckled at Nick's obvious surprise. "Quite an impressive bit of magic, isn't it?" Nick merely nodded along, not exactly sure what the word impressive might mean, but he took his best guess. "One must be careful, though. These steps do not always lead where one would hope". Again, Nick nodded, slowly this time. He caught Dumbledore's eye for a moment, and couldn't help but see glint of understanding in the old man's eyes. "Caution," Dumbledore motioned towards the steps, as if to say 'vanish'. "Watch your step."
Nick smiled just the slightest bit. The tour continued with far more gestures and simpler words, and Alex quickly found himself starting to pick up the meaning of different phrases. They eventually came to stand in a nearly-empty classroom. A rather small man stood on a pile of books up at the front of the classroom. He grinned, and clapped his hands together with excitement.
"Nicholas, this is Professor Flitwick, he teaches charms here at Hogwarts" The headmaster motioned towards the four-foot-nothing half goblin who stood atop a pile of books that looked older than the rest of the school, cheerfully nodding his head in agreement with the headmaster's words.
"Let's see what you know, yes?" the man said excitedly. A women dressed in dark green robes and a straight back stood to the left of the man, and a plump woman stood just to his right. Another man, dressed all in black and wearing what seemed to be an ever-present sneer stood to the left of the serious woman in green.
"Lockhart has yet to grace us with his presence" the man in black sneered.
"This is Professor Snape, youngest Potions Master to date." The cheery half goblin introduced. The man in black showed neither pride nor contempt at his title, he merely gave the slightest tip of his chin towards this Professor Flitwick to acknowledge the compliment.
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, if Lockhart is not here, we must carry on. Shall we?" Dumbledore motioned for Nick to step forward. Nick saw that a feather had been placed on the desk in front of him. "Let's start with a levitation charm."
Nick watched Dumbledore motion with his wand to the feather to see just what the man was looking for. Nick longed to simply command the feather to float up gradually, just as it was demonstrated, but he couldn't do it without using Parselmagic.
The little man on the stack of books smiled encouragingly and motioned for Nick to give it a try. Nick simply stared between the small man and the stationary feather. The shorter wizard took out his wand and pointed it at feather. "Wingardium Leviosa" the man commanded, and watched as the feather floated up with ease. The charm was released, and everyone turned to Nick expectantly.
Nick pulled out his wand and looked at it strangely; He had never been taught magic with a wand, but now, it looked as if he would have to use it here. He pointed it feather and gave it his best shot. "...Wingardium Leviosa". The feather floated up gradually, perhaps a bit shakily even, but it did go up. The wizard on top of the books clapped his hands excitedly.
"Excellent, excellent, very well done!"
The rest of the testing period went much the same way, with one of the professors at a time offering a demonstration, followed by Nick doing his best to copy them.
He was introduced to the lady in green. She was Professor Mcgonagall the transfiguration teacher. She gave the impression that she would lecture a quill if it dare have the audacity to flutter out of place.
The stout woman was Professor Sprout, who taught herbology. She was a fair bit gentler than the lady in green but Nick was under no disillusion: She was every bit as strict as her taller counterpart.
When it came to potions though, the gental guidance he received before vanished. The sneering, overgrown bat introduced as Professor Snape gave Nick parchment with a potion explained, and motioned towards both the cauldron and the ingredients all neatly laid out for him. Nick looked at the parchment and back to the bat of a man, but was meet only with yet another sneer, "I haven't all day, Mr. Broda."
Nick looked over the ingredients and tried to guess what the man wanted him to make, but he honestly didn't have a clue. Nothing came to mind when he looked the ingredients over. He counted the words that looked like ingredient names on the parchment, then counted the available ingredients at his disposal, and found there were far more ingredients than he probably needed. Nick shrugged and simply started cutting and dicing ingredients, hoping something would come to mind as he went. A good way into his brewing, Nick found that he was making a Babbling Beverage. He smirked at the cauldron as he gave the stirring rod a final turn counter-clockwise, and moving it from the heat to bottle and label.
"That... is not the potion that was clearly written out for you, Mr. Broda," The potions master drawled. "Do you think you are clever?" Nick said nothing as he glared at the overgrown bat. "Well?" The man raised an eyebrow. Nick wasn't even sure what the man was saying, much less how to respond, so he simply glared back. "Dumbledore, I am sure you know where I stand. I already risk enough with Mr. Longbottom in my class."
The professors each went on to say something to the man-bat, but Nick was too busy translating in his mind what the potion professor had said to pay any mind to them.
The lady in green glared at the overgrown bat, but the action went unnoticed.
The headmaster waved a hand towards the door to the hall. "I will need a moment with the other professors." Nick nodded and headed for the hall.
Not five minutes later, a beaming Dumbledore came out of the office. "You will be quite happy to know that Hogwarts will be honored to accept you. Now, there is just a matter of which house you will be placed in, then we can get you all settled in."
Nick nodded at the Headmaster. There was a small, childish part of himself that was pleased at passing the test, but the more rational part of Nick was kicking himself for not intentionally failing. He might have had a chance to travel with Alex and his coven again if he hadn't just gotten himself accepted.
Nick followed Dumbledore through the twists and turns of the halls until they came to a gargoyle, which looked suspiciously similar to something he was certain he'd seen before.
"Exploding Snaps." The gargoyle moved to the side, revealing a spiral staircase.
Very soon, Nick found himself sitting across from Dumbledore, having a staring contest with a phoenix. To his bewilderment, a tattered hat was also plopped unceremoniously onto his head not long after his arrival.
A Slytherin to the core, how very interesting. I had thought Tom would have been the last of you
Tom? Nick hissed back to the voice. To his great frustration, he found that the hat could not understand him. The Phoenix in front of him appeared to glare at him with suspicion, but Nick sneered back and tried to concentrate on creating images in his mind that might convey what he meant He found the hat returning the act in kind. This Tom was, evidently, the crazy mass murderer in Europe. Nick pictured a sea of stars between himself and the crazy psychopath.
The Hat chuckled and proceeded to show a green crest with a silver serpent on it. Men following wealth and power followed. Nick reflected on these new images. He was rather ambitious, but he was only there to learn. His ambitions would come later. Nick thought of the pile of books the professor had been standing on earlier. A picture of a black Raven on a blue crest appeared in his mind's eye, and Nick nodded at the image. If there was a house for studying, that was what he wanted.
"Ravenclaw!" the hat shouted. Nick had not been expecting the hat to say anything,let alone yell as loud as a dieing Yeti. He gripped the chair beneath him in his surprise and the damned, flaming turkey had the audacity to laugh at him for his reaction. The Phoenix ceased its odd laughter and looked fondly at Nick, but it was ignored.
"How wonderful. Knowledge is a wonderful thing. I myself have been know to get lost for days in a good book. Lemon drop?" A little yellow candy shaped like a lemon was offered by the Headmaster.
Nick gave a slight smile and accepted a candy. It was not at all what he was expecting. It was just as sour as a full lemon, with a sudden kick of sweetness at the end, like he'd just shoved a spoonful of honey into his mouth to try and get away from the acidic blast of sour.
'Note to self' Nick thought, 'avoid barmy old man's candies.'
"Shall we get you moved in, then?"
Nick was led through the twists and turns of the halls once again. He was a bit surprised to see how lived in the castle was. There were no boarded up rooms, to degraded to be safe to use. There was no fine layer of dust collected on every window sill. Even the portraits were all still occupied. Not even one of the occupants had gotten bored of life as a painting and simply left their frame altogether as portraits tend to do after a time.
The walls and floors were all scrubbed washed by diligent fingers. The paintings all had their paint recently touched up. The windows had all be recalled over time so there was no drafty breeze about the corridors. This castle was infact nothing like the coven and family castle he had visited over his lifetime. It was much more loved and cared for.
Eventually they came across a door with a knocker shaped like a bronze eagle. The beak of the door knocker opened, and it said, "He who builds me doesn't want me, he who buys me doesn't use me, he that uses me doesn't know he's got me. What am I?"
Dumbledore turned to Nick and appeared to be waiting patiently. Nick started the tedious task of translating in his head, looking for the English word to the Parseltongue. '...Coffin?" he finally thought, but he wasn't sure what the word was in English. On a whim, he grabbed the door knocker and simply pulled the picture of a coffin to the front of his mind. Just like that, the door swung open before them.
"Most curious" Dumbledore murmured as the two walked up the stone steps to the grand common room.
The Ravenclaw common room had graceful arched windows, and the walls are hung with blue and bronze silks. The domed ceiling was painted with an exquisite array of stars, a pattern that was echoed in the midnight-blue carpet. Tables, chairs, and bookcases covered the expanse of the floor, and a white-marble statue of the lady Rowena Ravenclaw sat next to the door that lead to the dormitories above.
"The other students will arrive in a few days' time. For now, you will have a chance to explore the castle. All meals are served and eaten in the great hall. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to come to me or one of the other professors."
"Goodnight" Nick waved as the old man swept out the door, down the spiral stairs, and back to the halls. Nick found his way into the third year boys dormitory and plopped down onto one of the beds. There were just three other beds in the door room. Much to Nick's surprise, his belongings were already sitting at the foot of his own bed.
"So, that's it then?" Nick asked the room. "No more adventure. For the next eight months I have to hit the books and study like a good boy."
No one answered the question, but he did find several textbooks and an English-to-Parseltongue Dictionary sitting innocently at the end of his bed as well. Nick grabbed the first one off the pile, pulled out a quill and parchment, and got to reading. He made notes as he went, and wrote translations above any words he didn't know.
(line break here).
When the morning finally came, Nick grabbed his translation dictionary, parchment and a quill, and went in search of some breakfast before he decided to hunt down the library.
The great hall was empty, so Nick simply found a place to sit and eat on his own. He wasn't sure which of the long tables were for which houses, but he ended up settling for a middle table and a seat close to the hall doors.
By lunchtime Nick had gotten himself so lost he eventually had to rangle in a poltergeist to get him back to his rooms. He was given very clear instructions but he didn't remember all of them so instead he ended up in library and opted to miss the afternoon meal in favor of looking through the vast number of books that filled the enormous room. There were, much to Nick's disappointment, no books in parseltongue, although he found a few in German, French, and several other languages he didn't recognize.
At the evening meal most of the professors were present, and of course, Nick was introduced to everyone. He found himself disliking Professor Snape just as much as he had on the day he'd first met the man. Thankfully, the rest of the professors seemed nice enough. Professor Filius Flitwick was just as enthusiastic as Nick's first day at Hogwarts, and Nick found such positivity contagious. He listened attentively to the stories of the wizard's days as a duelist, even though he didn't understand most of what was being said.
Professor Lockhart, on the other hand, was incredibly annoying. At first, he hadn't seemed so terrible, but by the end of the meal Nick found that for any tale Professor Flitwick told, Professor Lockhart found the need to out-do, telling near-identical tales with even more dangerous and impressive feats.
Still, Nick found himself enjoying Professor Flitwick's action packed stories of the late Transfiguration Professor Emeric Switch. Professor Flitwick was kind enough to mim out many of his words as he told the table of his epic rivalry with Professor Emeric Switch. The two dueled in Egypt, Switzerland, Haiti, Lesotho and Tanzania before the pair both took up positions at Hogwarts. It was under the extraordinary diplomatic skills of the Headmaster that the two managed to not maim each other. Infact, If Nick understood the Charms Professor correctly, the pair had even managed to get along well enough to run a dueling club together. Though they often duel each other more then they taught students.
When Professor Lockhart started in on tale of his own nemesis, Nick tuned him out and focused on his meal. He noted with a hint of amusement that most of the professors had made their escape when Professor Lockhart started up. Only the kind hearted Professor Sprout stuck around to politely nodded along to the man's outrageous stories.
A week went by much the same way that the first day had, and even in that short span of time Nick found himself learning more words and understanding more of what his professors said.
By the time the week came it an end, Nick was mourning the inevitable loss of silence and solitude as students poured in for the great evening meal and introduction from the headmaster himself.
His last meal with the Professors was lunch and thankfully Professor Lockhart was absent. Nick got the pleasure of sitting across from the ever excitable Professor Flitwick. The half goblin as usual told stories to Nick, more actions with his hands then words.
This last meal, the stories were focused on the Professor's first days of school. It was abundantly clear to Nick that Professor Flitwick had had a very hard time at school. The Professor motioned to his height and then half of himself, motioning downwards as if to say of less statues. Nick was offended on his Professors behalf, but Flitwick waved him off with a grin and began telling hilarious stories of him exacting revenge on others. He was at a particularly good part in the story when the women in green let out an outrage noise in the back of her throat.
"Don't you go telling him about that" She says sternly, pointing a bony finger at the little professor. "I won't have it".
"Surely you don't have something to hid Minerva" The bat professor purred.
She whipped around to face the youngest professor, "I don't suppose you'd mind then if I tell the next story. Perhaps a cautionary tale about drinking before one's potion OWL? Hmm," The potion master clammed up, "I thought not."
The half goblin Professor motioned to Nick to say that the story would have to wait another day. Lucky Professor Mcgonagall didn't see. Nick grinned happily at the idea.
The rest of the afternoon was spent cleaning up his space in the dorm room and warding his possessions from theft. At first Nick tried to use Latin warding spells and ruins, but he quickly gave up and simply used parcelspells.
When dinner came Nick sat himself at the table under the Ravenclaw banner and waited for the festivities to begin. Three boys sat around him. "Marcus Belby" one of the boys introduced himself as. "And this is Eddie Carmichael and Hugo Mattingley. You're a third year too, right?" Nick nodded slowly, not really sure how much he wanted to get into a conversation with the strangers bound to ask questions, questions he wouldn't know how to answer- Well, not in English, anyway.
Marcus was slightly taller than Nick and as thin as a beanpole. He sat slightly slouched most of the time though, casually leaning on any surface, be it animate or alive, that presented itself as comfortable.
"Belby?" Nick asked, suddenly struck with the familiar-sounding surname. "Damocles Belby?"
Marcus flushed a little and groaned, "Look, I don't really talk to my Uncle much. Him and my dad don't really get on. I ... I don't know anything about him."
Nick grinned knowingly. Damocles Belby was a brilliant, sarcastic, stuck up prick. As a member of the wizarding world, Nick appreciated his work on creating the Wolfsbane Potion but as an individual Nick hated spending any amount of time with the man. Particularly since he didn't speak enough English to understand what the potion master had been trying to tell him when Nick and Alex were working in the Greater Communal Potion Labs, back in Switzerland.
"You've meet Uncle Damocles?" Marcus asked, vaguely curious tone mixed with the bookworms general apathy
"Once" Nick answered.
Marcus snorted, "More than I can say to be honest. I've heard loads though. Where you from, anyways?"
Nick blinked. "Canada."
"They speak English there too, don't they?" Eddie teased. Nick only grinned and shrugged.
Hugo gave Eddie a light shove. "You ever study history? I know you're a pureblood and all but, really." The boys bantered and bickered on.
Nick smiled and nodded for most of the time, but he didn't contribute much to the discussion.
Suddenly, the doors opened and the hall came to a hushed silence. Professor Mcgonagall walked in with a trail of what must have been first years following behind her.
One by one up, each of them was called up to a three-legged wooden stool, where the sorting hat was placed on their heads and a house was called out. It was all done in much the same way as it had been done for Nick.
An interesting girl named Luna Lovegood was sorted next into Ravenclaw, and the girl ended up sitting to the left of Nick on the bench, beside a handful of other firsties. The girl had turnips for earrings and tights a red so shockingly that it almost hurt to look at them. A strange talsman hung around her neck. It looked vaguely familiar to Nick. It warded off a type of pest, he remembered that much, but whether it was rats or bad thoughts he couldn't remember.
After the Headmaster gave a quick speech, the food was called up and dinner began. Nick was somewhat warmed to see that the rest of the Ravenclaws clearly understood very little of what Dumbledore said either, so he supposed that wasn't just a language barrier thing.
As Nick served himself some food he felt a finger poke his wrist.
"You know that crushed Dreamsworth heals the burn of a Heliopath?" Luna Lovegood said to him airily. Nick looked down at the ugly burn mark on his wrist. It was hard enough finding a Heliopath, how on earth would he ever find Dreamsworth? "I have some, if you like." Luna offered airly. Nick smiled and gave a slight nod.
"Heliopath" one of the girls sitting across from Luna tisked, "don't really exist." Nick looked at the girl with poorly hidden shock. "I've never read about them," the girl continued, like this was her most convincing argument.
Nick nodded kindly to Luna, as if to say, 'please explain.'
The brilliant little firstie caught on. "Heliopath: a spirit of fire which gallops and burns anything in its path".
"like s'mores" Nick offered. His voice was silky and smooth but the words still came out more like hisses, rather than proper English speech. Nick pulled out his wand and drew a picture of a Heliopath in the air. With a final swish of his wand he animated it so that the horse he'd created galloped around the table, leaving burning trails wherever it went.
"They're incredibly hard to find. Did you catch it?" Luna questioned. The other Ravenclaws continued to look rather skeptically at the creature trampling through the air. Nick shook his head as an answer to the Lovegood girl. "That's alright. I'm sure you'll find one again. Though I can't imagine why you'd be in the desert. That's where they live you know" she said.
Just then, professor Flitwick was upon them. He handed Nick his class schedule and clapped him on the shoulder. "What wonderful charm work!" he proclaimed "Very well done."
Nick nodded to the professor, took the schedule in his hand, and began looking it over. There was a short bit of writing on the back of the schedule, which Nick recognised as the ending to the story about Mcgonigal. Nick didn't have the knowledge to translate it right there and then, but shoved it into his bag to do so later.
"Where's Potter?" Hugh asked Marcus.
Marcus shrugged, "Didn't even notice he wasn't here."
"Heard he wasn't on the train" Eddie piped up. "Reckon he's not coming at all this year?"
"Na, boy-who-lives, he'll be here." Marcus said matter-of-factly.
"Potter?" Nick asked.
"Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. He defeated the dark lord when he was just one year old. Some say he'll save the whole wizarding world again, some day. He's a Gryffindor. Figure he would be, really, being the saviour and all" Huge explained. Marcus and Eddie nodded together in agreement.
Nick said nothing . He wasn't sure how much faith he should place on an education who still believed in saviors. There was a Savior in America a few years back, and that hadn't ended very well at all. The poor boy had died in a drunk flying accident. He'd be told his whole life he would live to defeat the uprising of vampires so he had, rather illogically, figured he could live through anything until his work was done. Nick wasn't willing to put stock into saviors. If there was any saving to do, he would rather do it himself.
Why Europeans still put stock in such rubbish was beyond him.
(line break here)
Nick had wanted to go to the library after dinner but found himself being herded up to the dormitory. As promised, Luna gave Nick some Dreamsworth. Nick crushed it into a paste and spread it over his burn, watching in fascination as the burn healed. He pulled his shirt off and sat on his bed, applying the paste to the large burn over his chest.
Hugo stared at Nick, then the burn, in shock, "What… What on earth do you do in Canada?"
Nick shrugged, then pointed to the slowly disappearing burn mark as he muttered, "Heliopath, Egypt." He pointed to the scar underneath the burn mark, "Dragon, Canada," a faded line on his shoulder, "merpeople, Italy" Nick then pointed to the killer set of claw marks that ran across his back, finally saying, "Drop Bear, Australia".
"Drop Bear?" Hugo asked.
"S Magical 'oils, s'et s'meat."
The other boys only gave Nick strange looks. Nick sighed and pulled out his wand to draw a picture of the carnivorous koala.
The image in the air really didn't do the massive twelve foot carnivorous monster justice. The cousin to the koalas, the dropbear was a massive beast that prowled around the forest of Australia hunting whatever it came across. Nick had run across one once with two of his cousins. Only two of them managed to get away. The oldest died after the bloody thing snuck up on them three days after they first spotted it. Nick and his younger cousin both sustained sizable wounds, but Nick managed to use a makeshift broom to fly them out of the forest altogether.
Despite the lack of realism in the whispy image, Nicks roommates all looked reasonably appalled at the creature.
Nick canceled the charm with a final swipe of his wand and waved goodnight to the others, before drawing the blue and bronze curtains shut around his bed. Once settled, he brought out his textbooks to read over the first chapter for each of his classes he had the following day.
The first weekend Nick had spent at Hogwarts, he spent in an empty classroom, brewing potions. He began with a Calming Draught, since he always found them helpful, but then he realized that while he already had his things out, the Fire Protection Potion wasn't very hard to make. Really, Luna burned herself far more than was good for her, and since she had given him Dreamsworth he should really give her something in return. However, Fire Protection Potion takes twenty minutes to simmer on low heat with absolutely no stirring, so, what was Nick to do for all that time? Just stare at the cauldron?
He figured he might as well do something fun, to kill time, like brew a Hair-Raising Potion. Or perhaps a Laugh-inducing Potion. Actually... why not make both? They weren't very challenging, so Nick came to the brilliant conclusion that he should make an Invisibility Potion too, a potion which took a lot more time and patience. In all honesty, he was just avoiding working on his English. But... making potions was a productive procrastination, so it was all ok, right?
It was nearly dinner time when two fourth year gryffindors popped up in the potions classroom, finding a place smack in front of Nick's cauldron.
"What do we have here George?"
"Looks like Snape to me, Fred"
"Can't be, George, he's much too small."
One of the twins made to grab a bottle of the hair-raising potion, but Nick nabbed it first. "Oi, we just wanted to look" the twins chorused.
Nick sighed in defeat, reluctantly handing the potion over.
The boy held up the potion as if inspecting the colour, but it was fairly obvious he had no idea what he was looking at. "What you reckon it does, George?"
"Not a clue Fred." The two looked at Nick expectantly.
"''Elp me s'udy" Nick said offhandedly. The twins lit up at the explanation. George took the top off the vial with eagerness and took a swig, then handed it to Fred. The two emptied the bottle in no time. Nick looked up just in time to see the surprise in the face of the twins as they watched each others' hair stand straight up on end.
"Huh! Never thought a bookworm Ravenclaw…"
"..Had it in him to pull a prank."
Nick grinned. "It's not a s'ank. Sell 'otions..." Nick shrugged.
"Not a prank?" The twins repeated in dramatic offence.
"Hear that Fred? We have ourselves our own little potion master!" George grinned. "How much?" Nick looked at the collection of potions in front of himself.
"Invisible" Nick pointed to the three vials of clear liquid. " 'Each me 'ow 'o 'alk"
"So, just speaking lessons George, you hear that? All the pranking material we want, in exchange for just teaching dear mini-snape here to talk, like us."
"Fred, I do believe this is a deal we simply cannot pass up. What d'ya say to some lessons tonight in exchange for two of those invisibility potions, eh?"
Nick nodded gratefully and shook hands with the twins, sealing the deal.
That evening, Nick sat outside the castle with the twins, reviewing different words. They set out a schedule to meet on Wednesdays and Sundays for lessons, during the times when there weren't any classes. Then, Nick would spend his Saturdays brewing potions that the Weasley twins requested. The twins gave him a list of the potions they wanted, just off the top of their heads, and showed him how to send an order by post to the Slug and Jiggers Apothecary in Diagon Alley.
In the evening, Nick pulled out his class schedule and turned it over to begin translating the note from Professor Flitwick.
"There was nothing she could do about it, even when she figured out what I had done. Even the healer at the time didn't know how to reverse it. Headmaster Dumbledore might have known, but he didn't interfere. She had to spend the entire week with cat ears and a tail. I had thought she would stop her incredibly rude questions, but she persisted nonetheless. In the middle of the hall, she would loudly ask about my upbringing and this and that. So on Friday night I lined the ceiling of the slytherin common room with Catnip. Sure enough, she made it down from the Gryphandor tower to the dungons and one way or another into the common room. Malcolm, her younger brother and a first year slytherin at the time, had to man handle her out of the room at three in the morning. After that Malcolm called a truce between the Flitwick and Mcgonagall households on his sister's behalf. I accepted and after which I never had an issue with Manerva. Though we do set pranks on one another from time to time."
Nick was grinning like a lone by the end of the tale. He was fairly certain the story had a purpose. Largely to be recuted to the cause. Nick looked at the time. There was just enough time before curfew to pop over to Professor Flitwicks rooms.
Nick opened his potion stores and pulled out an animal speach potion. The potion let the drinker speak to any animal they choose, they simply had to drop a hair from said spices in and take a gulp. The only down side was that the potion didn't let the user speak any human language. The potion took about an hour to ware off.
Nick slipped the potion into his robes and headed down to Flitwick's office. He knocked twice. The door opened to revile Professor Mcgonigal and Professor Flitwick taking tea while playing a game of chess at Professor Flitwick's desk.
"Nick, how is everything?" Professor Flitwick asked marily.
"Good" Nick answered truefully, stepping into the office, Nick put the potion and he folded bit of parchment with the instruction on the desk by Flitwicks tea. "From…" Nick made the cross sigh on his arm like the healers outfit.
"Ah, yes, yes. Thank you. I had meant to get that after lunch" Neither Flitwick or Nick made any indication that there was something more afoot and Professor Mcgonigal picked nothing up. Sipping her tea contently, none the wise of the plots.
Nick slipped back out of the office with a silent wave goodbye and headbed for his dorms again.
(page brake)
On Sunday morning, Grant Page, a fourth year Ravenclaw boy, pulled Nick from one of the chairs in the common room and handed him a Comet 290 broomstick, without much enthusiasm. "We need a Chaser," the older boy grunted.
Nick gave the broom one look, and handed it right back.
"Play, and I'll let you read my copy of "Hogwarts: a History." It's Seventh edition, first print." A tempting prize for any Ravenclaw, certainly.
Nick glared at the offending broomstick. He really didn't want to play Quidditch, not in the slightest, but if he wanted to find other parseltongues, one of the original "Hogwarts: a History"s would certainly be a good place to start. Nick nodded a yes and motioned for Grant to wait. Then Nick went up to his dorm and grabbed his own broom from the rest of his belongings. Grant looked at the broom curiously, but said nothing.
Nick was led down to the quidditch pitch. He watched the others play for a bit, and listened to Roger Davies, the team Captain, prattle on about strategy. Nick was surprised he understood most of what Roger was saying. The practice went well enough, though it wasn't anything spectacular. The first game would take place in several weeks, so there was a lot of time to improve. Honestly though, Nick would have figured most people had been forced onto the team. Roger Davies seemed to be the only one taking the practice seriously.
As promised, Nick got to spend the following week poring over Grant Page's copy of "Hogwarts: A History."
After Nick second quidditch practice, he gave back Grant's book and settled into working on the homework he had been neglecting.
(Page break)
Luna and Nick sat curled up on opposite ends of one of the common room couches, reading and working on homework.
"Nick, do you ever listen to the walls?" Luna asked in a sudden moment of curiosity.
Nick frowned down at his Charms homework. "I can't say I ever 'ave. Mos'ly I just read be'ween classes." There was silence for a moment, and Nick thought Luna might explain. "Luna, why 'o you ask?"
Luna grinned and pulled on the tiny grapefruit hanging from her collar. "I saw Harry listening to the walls today. Very strange. I thought you might have heard something I didn't."
Nick smiled at the strange girl sitting across from him. There really was not a good response to something like that, so he simply nodded and turned back to his work.
It was part way into October when Nick found himself watching the post fly in at breakfast when he realised how long he'd been away from his family. He wasn't normally one to get homesick, but watching all the letter be delivered to other students made him wish he got letters.
The next day at breakfast time, a large brown owl dropped a letter for Nick. The scrawl was messy and rather hard to read. He opened up the parchment and found a letter describing the many ways to catch a Heliopath. Luna had signed her name at the bottom.
"Who's it from?" Eddie asked.
Hugo tried to peer over his shoulder, but Nick leaned away. He met Luna's eyes and grinned from ear to ear.
"From a girl, is it, Bromda? Got a girl back in Canada?" Eddie asked teasingly.
Nick shook his head, "She is… good?"
"Good eh?" Eddie wiggled his eyes suggestively.
Nick scowled and threw a piece toast, hitting Eddie squarely in the forehead. The four boys burst into laughter. Nick put the letter in his pocket and turned to his roommates to commiserate over Lockhart's terrible teaching of defense against the dark arts.
The next day, a letter was dropped at Luna's place. Normally, the girls in her dorm ignored her, but suddenly they were all rather curious, once they saw the letter. Luna only smiled and slipped the letter into her pocket. It was the story of how Nick had come across the Heliopath the first time, and what exactly had happened. It had taken Nick more time to write then he cared to admit.