Chapter 6

Flying lessons were a disaster. Not that I'm afraid of heights—between Raven and the other bird-morphs in my arsenal, if I was high enough for a fall to be deadly, I was high enough to have wings before I hit the ground—but the broom's magic and mine just didn't mix.

Oh, it twitched when I said 'up', as instructed, which was better than some of the others' reactions, but… it 'grated' on my senses, rather like some of the incompatible wands had.

The broom responded as it had been programmed—spelled—to, but sluggishly, as though resisting at every move.

I hated it.

Quietly.

Madame Hooch didn't seem to think I was having unusual trouble, so I let it alone. Maybe it was just the broom, after all—the school things did seem kind of old and worn. But still, I had other ways to fly. I could catch a thermal and soar…

Who needed brooms?

And as if that weren't enough, the Gryffindors were an absolute nightmare.

They were nice enough to each other, but… it was as if they'd been trained to discriminate. So early! And Madame Hooch was subtly leaning in their direction of every argument. Oh, not obviously, but… subtlety was not lost on me.

Nor the other Slytherins, I noted. Already the bitterness began.

So. This was going to be harder than I thought.

At least it was the last lesson of the day.

xxxx

All right, maybe it being the last lesson of the day wasn't a good thing after all. There were far too many people who were curious about me.

True, there was reason. From time to time I took on various animal characteristics, I had been skipped ahead three years in Transfiguration, and all the teachers were watching me. Naturally the other students would be curious.

There were rumors, I had heard them—speaking behind someone's back didn't work as well when someone had the hearing of one of my familiars. I knew what was being said, just as I knew there was nothing I could do about it. The other students would talk, that was that.

But most of them at least left me alone, a little wary, a little suspicious.

Dane did not, but nor did he pester for answers, Pureblood that he was.

I could handle that, he was just one. But there were others in my House who would not be so discreet. Pureblood or not. Namely, the ones higher on the social ladder—the ones who did not believe the 'unspoken society rules' applied to them.

If the rumor was to be believed, a certain Draco Malfoy to be specific.

I would have made a mental note to avoid him, but I didn't know what he looked like.

Retreating to my rooms was out of the question with so many in the halls. I didn't want anyone to know where they were. Not yet.

Snape–sensei was all right, not because he was a teacher, but because I had touched the edges of his mind. He wasn't a bad person—and he wasn't a Controller.

From what I heard from the others, it was likely that no magic-users were Controllers. But I wasn't going to risk lives on 'likely'. Though I had nothing in my room that would immediately identify me as an Animorph, anyone who could read minds might see it in my dreams.

I needed to ask Sensei if there was a more reliable way of blocking someone out.

But now was not the time. Walking through the halls with curious gazes following me, I made my way down to the dungeons, looking for the Slytherin common room.

It actually wasn't hard to find, despite the fact that it looked almost like any other section of wall. The floor tiles were slightly more worn there, and there was a smooth spot on the wall, where many hands had touched it.

It wasn't until after I'd entered the room that I realized it might not be the best idea. Draco Malfoy was in my House.

xxxx

Corners may make me feel secure, but I dislike the feeling that most people refer to as 'cornered'.

And right then, I was definitely feeling cornered. Malfoy was a third year—and a great deal taller than I was. He also had this air about him, this feeling that he thought himself superior to everyone else.

And he wanted me to eat dinner with him.

My first impulse was to say no—but I checked myself. While I already slightly disliked him, he was very highly regarded in my House and it couldn't hurt my standing to seen with him. Or rather, it couldn't hurt my standing within Slytherin.

It very well might hurt my standing within the school at large. But I was hoping that that was ground that could be made up. And I could not fulfill my self-assigned mission of improving my House's reputation without being seen as one of them. Which meant I could not be the House outcast.

I hid my reluctance, and accepted the borderline-command to sit with Draco Malfoy for dinner.

xxxx

After I got to my rooms that night, I had to admit—if only to myself—the dinner with Malfoy hadn't actually been all that bad. He'd been a perfect gentleman, to me anyway. He hadn't been so kind to some of the Gryffindors—specifically Harry—but I managed to keep him from more than one snide comment.

A flash of gold in the eye and subtly barbed comment made him realize that I had a worse reaction to the Dementors than Harry, and so harassing the Gryffindor about it also degraded me.

He apologized—to me—and set about ignoring Harry and his friends for the rest of the night.

So, really, it hadn't been too bad. But still, it was an experience I'd rather not have to repeat—but I wasn't getting too hopeful on that one. It may very well have just become a nightly ritual.

xxxx

The remainder of the week passed quickly, with few interruptions by my three familiars, and classes ranged from ridiculously easy (the first-year Transfiguration class and Herbology) to challenging but fun (Potions and Defense) to abysmal (Flying and Charms).

Ok, so Charms wasn't that bad. Really. Just that the feather had repeatedly lifted six inches off the desk before bursting into flames.

Flames. From a levitation charm.

Poor Professor Flintwick didn't know quite what to do with me—the wand movement was correct, as was my pronunciation of the spell. The spell itself just… stalls and flares, somehow, after it starts, and I lose control.

I even tried switching to the Thestral wand, thinking maybe the Phoenix feather was why it kept flaring, but the same thing happened.

I sighed and dropped my head to the desk, not at all pleased by my failure. On the up-side, I could always levitate a Taxxon. Then it's be a good thing for it to burst into flames. Did I mention I really don't like Taxxons?

At the end of class, Professor Flintwick gave me extra homework—joy—and told me to come to him if I continued having trouble with the charm.

I gave a somewhat curt bow of acceptance and headed out to the free period in a foul mood.

xxxx

Free period was thankfully uneventful. Dane sat next to me in the Common Room, but noticed my mood and tactfully avoided the morning's subjects, instead making small talk about the weather and general plans for the weekend.

I hummed noncommittally when he asked what I was going to do, "Probably homework," I admitted. "Professor Flintwick gave me extra."

I was less annoyed about it since having some time to cool off. He'd only done it with the intent of helping me, after all. That didn't make the prospect any more enjoyable, but the irritation was now focused more on my inability than the Professor. It wasn't Flintwick's fault I was having such trouble.

Then again, I wasn't the only one that had lit a feather on fire. I was just the only one who'd done it every single time.

"At least you got your feather off the table," Dane pointed out, "Half the class didn't manage that."

Huh. All right, had not noticed that. … I needed to pay more attention to my surroundings, even while frustrated. Being caught off-guard could be a death-sentence, were I still with the other Animorphs or even just in London. It was a low-activity area, not a no-activity area. And being caught morphing would be… catastrophic.

I set that thought aside as quickly as it had come, searching for the correct response to the offered consolation. "Thanks, Dane. But I still don't understand why it flames at six inches."

"This period's free," he observed, "We could go to the library and look up the basis for the spell."

We? I was momentarily baffled by that, but decided to accept the implied offer. "That's what Professor Flintwick assigned extra," I managed a small smile, "All right, lets. Thanks."

He shrugged good-naturedly. "Mine stalls at a foot," he confessed. "I was thinking about going anyway—yours was just so much more… attention catching than mine."

I surprised myself with a soft laugh, "Well, then. Do we know where the Library is?"

Dane shook his head, "We can ask one of the older students."

I considered that. "Sensei recommended the portraits or ghosts as slightly more reliable guides."

Dane blinked, tilting his head in obvious confusion. "Sensee?"

"Snape-sensei," I emphasized the pronunciation, "Forgive me, the term is Japanese. It is a respectful way of addressing a teacher or someone of similar station. Sensei has not protested it."

"Japanese?" Dane blinked, "Why Japanese?"

"It is a language I have put forth some effort studying. It is also a language that is very… influential in the business world." I had taken the time to look up my birth-mother's homeland's magical culture, which was substantially different from the European one. However, their economic standing was similar in both Normal and Magical worlds.

Dane nodded, "You have a point. If the Professor doesn't mind, then I guess it's fine."

I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgement of the statement and stood. "Well. To the Library?"

"To the Library," Dane agreed, mimicking my movement. "Who are we going to ask for directions?"

I glanced around the room and settled on the House ghost. "Why not the Baron?"

Dane managed to look both impressed and appalled. "You're voluntarily going to approach the Bloody Baron?"

"He's our House ghost, and he's here." I pointed out, managing to hide my amusement at his poorly-hidden apprehension. "Why not?"

xxxx

The Baron responded to my polite inquiry by saying "Follow me," in a voice that sounded like it had been left unused for far too long, then drifted through the hidden door. He proved to be quite the thoughtful guide, leading Dane and me to the Library and informing us that if we needed aid in getting to the Great Hall for lunch, there was another ghost in the far corner of the Library that would be willing to help out.

I bowed slightly, "Thank you, Baron."

Dane quickly mimicked my thanks and the Baron nodded once. "You are welcome."

I glanced around at the largely unlabeled shelves and shook my head before making my way up to the Librarian's desk, Dane trailing along slightly off to one side. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then shut it again without a word, and I settled into something like American military parade-rest, waiting for the woman behind the desk to acknowledge my presence.

She finished writing something and dropped her quill in an inkwell with a soft 'clink'. "Yes?"

"Pardon, Ma'am, but would you please tell me where I can find a book with information on the levitation charm 'Wingardium Leviosa'?" I had no doubt that she knew where they were.

She eyed me over her spectacles for several seconds, the suspicious, pinched expression fading. "Of course, dear," she said, gesturing to a series of shelves to one side. "There are several books with that information, but the one with the most complete explanation of the spell is called Levitation and Floating, by Bartholemue Grudge. It's on the fourth shelf in the first row, second one down."

I bowed slightly, "Thank you, Ma'am."

"Will you be checking it out today?"

I nodded, "I believe so, Ma'am. I have been having… exceptional trouble with that charm."

The woman actually smiled, "In that case, I'll simply summon it," she suited words with a gesture and the book came soaring to the desk, "You'll have to sign here—do be careful not to drip. It will be due back in two weeks."

I smiled, "Thank you. I'm sorry, but I don't know your name, Ma'am. I'm Tsume."

"You may call me Madame Pince, Tsume. Take good care of that book, now."

I nodded, "Yes, Ma'am!"

She smiled again, "Go on, now, off with the both of you!"

I smiled back and offered a slight bow before doing as instructed and heading out of the Library, intending to go back to the Common Room, now that I was armed with the book.

Dane trailed along after me and once we were halfway down the hall to the first staircase he turned on me. "How did you do that? I've heard she's impossible to please and hates all the students on principle!"

I grinned, "Oh, Dane, it's amazing how far a little genuine regard for other people will get you. Manners also don't hurt."

He shook his head, "Well, I just think you've got a magical ability to get people to like you."

Huh. That was a possibility I hadn't considered. I shook my head, "Whether or not I do, let's go see what this book has to say about our troubles, hmm?"

xxxx

The book actually had quite a bit to say about our problem—the spell apparently had a natural 'stall point' height that varied depending on how much power was initially put into it. If more power was forced into the spell, it would maintain its height as opposed to dropping the item, as most of the students had done. Thus the feathers.

If even more power was forced into the spell, it would usually resume its upward climb, occasionally something else would happen.

So apparently my attempts had simply forced too much power at once for the spell to handle based on the starting point I had given it, the excess energy transferred into heat, and the feather lit on fire, feathers being extremely flammable.

Meaning it would take a great deal more to light a Taxxon on fire. Pity. Maybe I should just learn a fire spell?

"So. Start out with more power in the spell."

Dane nodded, "That's what it seems like."

"How, exactly, am I going to tell how much power I'm putting into it?"

Dane blinked, then shook his head. "I'll write Father and see if there's anything that can help with that."

xxxx

Hi! I live. And I finally got something up for this one. Sorry for the looooong delay. I'll try not to let it stretch quite so much next time. 'Ta!