Chapter Eight:
Beast in the Bowl
Unlike the other Hawkbane turrets, Ahsimal's classroom (or at least the one that was being used today) was located on the bottom floor of the tower. "We will be working our way up, until we make enough progress to use the Summoning Room at the top of Turret Four...which I doubt we'll do by the end of the year. You'll have to be a rather clever bunch to make it that far in Necromancy. The last class I taught that made it that far in one year was ages ago...but enough of that! This is Necromancy I, Classroom A."
Harry looked around to see what the classroom looked like. It was even more bizarre than Leir's classroom...there were cobwebs everywhere, and no windows. The walls were black marble covered in dust. Above the heads of the students was a chandelier made of human skeletons. There was also the Hogwarts coat of arms, made from the bones of several long dead people. Whatever decoration was in the room, it was black. There was a fireplace, and twenty large, black cushions were rather close to it...for the students. There were clipboards for the parchment, and Professor Ahsimal didn't have a desk in here...he just had a dragon-leather recliner with an ebony wood finish.
"I am so sorry about the long wait, students," said Ahsimal. "I had some errands I had to take care of." He looked over at Harry and winked. He then faced all the students and said, "First off, I want to tell all of you that most of the rumors you have heard about me are either true or based on the truth. I'm a bloody vampire, so sue me...and I have bitten students and professors before."
Harry and the others gasped in surprise...their Necromancy teacher was a vampire! Ahsimal gave a fake cough to get everyone's attention, and then continued. "If I am not in Turret Thirteen, that means I'm somewhere else on campus, and none of you are allowed to follow me without permission...unless I bit you. I could be anywhere, doing anything imaginable. Sometimes you'll be pining for the teacher you used to detest the most by the time I'm through with you if you get in trouble with me. Nobody escapes my wrath towards disobedience."
He raised his arms and said, "Feel honored, students, because there is not another Necromancy teacher in the world. This is your only opportunity to learn about this type of sorcery."
Draco whispered and snickered with Rick and Marcus. "I can't believe Dumbledore trusts Slytherins to learn this subject...Necromancy is as evil as it gets!"
"Who told you that?" Ahsimal asked curiously, cocking his head to one side. That made his long, white hair flow in streams as it fell to his knees.
"My father," Draco said shyly.
"Lucius was correct, in some aspects. Necromancy can be considered a Dark Art because it is the Magic of the Dead. In this class, we will deal with Zombies, living dead, and perhaps gore crows for the first semester. If you stay for second term, I'll show you how to Commune and use the Dead to your advantage. If you're really good in here and devote yourselves to this class, I'll even show you the best thing Necromancy can offer...Resurrection of the dead. Wouldn't it be interesting to raise someone from the Dead completely, even if millennia have passed by? I'll supply instructions—as well as bodies at first—then we'll start digging them up ourselves."
Ahsimal looked about the room and said, "Unlike the other Hawkbanes, I will not have an introductory lesson. We will be jumping straight into Necromancy today, and will begin with our unit on Zombies. First off, how many know the difference between Zombies and the Living Dead?"
Only Cassandra, Hermione, Atticus, and Draco raised their hands. Even Celia was stumped. Ahsimal shrugged. "Okay, only four. Malfoy, tell us the difference."
Draco took a deep breath. "Professor Ahsimal, the differences between Living Dead and Zombies are few."
Ahsimal nodded. "I think everyone knows that much. Go on and name two specifics."
Draco continued, "The Living Dead aren't as clumsy and mindless as Zombies. Another thing is that Zombies can't talk, but Living Dead might, unless they were mute when they were alive."
The Necromancy professor clapped his ghostly white hands together at that. "Well, that was correct, Malfoy. Five points to Slytherin. Another thing is that Zombies are deaf, too. They can't hear a thing...even people screaming at the top of their lungs. The only person they can hear is their Revivor." He paused, and his mauve eyes lit up brightly. "Let's take a little walk to a cemetery in downtown Hogsmeade, shall we?"
Ahsimal led the students outside the castle to St. Clytemnestra's Memorial Cemetery. The sky was beginning to darken with twilight. It was a couple of miles of walking, and a few people were tired, but Ahsimal didn't seem to be bothered by this. "Okay. We're going to need a body for this project. Malfoy, you answered your trivia correctly in the classroom."
Draco nodded nervously. "What about it, Professor Ahsimal?"
Ahsimal grinned where everyone could see his sharp fangs. "Your reward is to choose the body and who digs it up."
Draco beamed like the teacher and pointed at Ron. "Weasley is going to dig up..." he looked around the cemetery and pointed at a headstone that had no name on it. "...this guy."
Ahsimal seemed to tense up as Draco picked that headstone. "That's Regulus Black, in case you didn't know. He was a Death Eater." After Draco persisted, Ahsimal shrugged his shoulders to show he didn't care. He hurled a shovel at Ron. "Go ahead. Here's what you need. Since this might take a while, I might as well tell you wonderful students that the Headmaster really doesn't approve of this class too much. The only reason he keeps it here is because I've been around longer than he has and he's not a fool. He knows how dangerous it would be to get me angry."
Harry turned to Hermione. "What do you think of Necromancy so far?"
Hermione sighed and gave a surprising answer. "I'm really freaked out by all of this bloody mess...I don't like this one bit."
After Ron finished digging up the coffin, Ahsimal got Josh and Marcus to carry the coffin like pallbearers back to the classroom. They gently set it down and started to take their seats. Ahsimal held up a pale hand with a gaudy ring on his middle finger. "Stay put! We need a volunteer to open the coffin. I am persuading those with weak stomachs not to do this. This isn't going to be a pretty picture."
Isis shuddered at that. "Who's in there, anyway?"
"Didn't you hear the professor, Acheron?" Marcus said. "Regulus Black."
A hand was raised, and Ahsimal perked up. "Yes, what is it, Fallowin?"
Rick spoke up. "I want to be the one to open that horrid thing...for practice." Ahsimal and Cassandra looked each other in the eye and started to laugh. "What's so funny?"
Ahsimal, still snickering, replied, "Okay, Fallowin. Your funeral," and continued to laugh. Harry could only guess the expression that would soon be on Rick's face.
Everyone watched with anticipation as Rick opened the coffin. It wasn't as bad as everyone had thought it would be; it was just a skeleton clothed in tattered garb. Ahsimal looked up. "Okay. This is going to become our first little project. Our job is to make Regulus a Zombie. He's decomposed enough so that he can't see, hear, feel, whatever...unless summoned. I'll ask a few questions and then Ella will supply the stuff you, my darling pupils, are going to need. Any volunteers for a little trivia? There will be a reward." Hermione raised a hand. "I need someone who hasn't tried to memorize my book. How about you, Parkinson?"
Pansy perked up and her jaw dropped. "Y-yes, Professor Ahsimal?"
Ahsimal shrugged once more. "You're our next volunteer. Tell me, what do Zombies eat?"
Pansy relaxed a bit and smiled. "That's easy; they don't eat."
"Five points will be added to Slytherin for your good answer. Now, tell me...how reliable are they?"
"They aren't reliable at all," Pansy said coolly. "They're so unreliable that they would be late for their own funeral." Harry could tell Pansy was feeling pretty confident. These were fairly easy questions.
Ahsimal laughed. "It's obvious you looked at the study questions this summer. Another five points for Slytherin! Final question, and this shows whether or not you've been listening to Professor Binns...when in history were Zombies first discovered?"
Pansy started to sweat. "I...I don't know."
Ahsimal applauded loudly. "Correct, my dear! Yet another five points for Slytherin! They've always been there, so we aren't exactly sure when they first showed up. Your reward is that you can summon the Zombie and keep it as your servant."
Pansy grinned in pride; Zombies were a lot cooler than house elves, any day...and here she got one for answering three easy questions.
Atticus turned toward Harry and whispered, "She obviously was clueless about that last one. She only got it by sheer dumb luck. I hope that stupid Zombie remembers who and what is was before it died. That way, it'll strangle her."
Celia sighed. "Pansy's not so bad, Atticus."
Atticus guffawed. "Not so bad, Celia? Her only flaw is her stupidity!"
Celia hissed back, in a mocking tone, "Really? Then how did she get into Hawkbane courses, Mr. Smarty-Pants?"
Atticus paused to think about that and said, "I'll get you back on that one later."
Ahsimal raised his arms and pulled his sleeves back. "Rigormortium Malidicitus!" He glanced at the students and got an expression on his face that simply told them to copy what he had just done.
"Rigormortium Malidicitus!" the class replied.
Suddenly, a skeletal arm arose from the coffin, and a pair of empty sockets seemed to stare at everyone in the room. It moved, like a cruel parody of human life, all jerky and stiff. It suddenly stopped in front of Pansy. She stuttered. "Uh..uh...can you hear me?" The skeleton nodded. "Can you hear anyone or anything else?" She bit her lip when the thing shook its head stiffly. She turned toward the professor, who seemed to be staring into nothingness. "Professor!"
Ahsimal suddenly shot out of his trance and snapped at the girl. "What is it now, Parkinson?" He didn't sound friendly anymore.
"Um...sir...the Zombie is following me around."
Ahsimal shrugged coldly. "Regulus is supposed to follow you around. You're his Summoner, after all."
Harry and Ron laughed as Pansy started to run from the Zombie. The efforts was futile, as it just followed the girl around the room. Tears of amusement were leaking from Hermione's eyes. "This is hilarious!"
Ron was rolling over in laughter, until he accidentally let out a fart, which caused Rick to start coughing and Draco to start making gag noises. That was when he started to straighten up. Ahsimal looked like he was a bit disappointed with how unruly his students had been on their first day in Necromancy.
"Pansy, why don't you tell Regulus to go clean up your dormitory and start on the hall when he's finished? I really must send all of you off to your Common Rooms now. Now, get out of here before the bell rings."
"Did you see the way Ahsimal looked after our lesson?" Harry asked. "He looked like he did up in the Aerie, and that's not a good thing to say...he was rather irritable."
"Oh, shut up, Harry," said Ron. "I've heard Ahsimal gets moody like that whenever something gets revived in his classroom and it's nothing out of the ordinary in Necromancy."
"At least Living Dead and Zombies are somewhat decent," another voice said. Harry turned around to see Cassandra had followed them. "The dirty work starts with gore crows." She then walked off with her nose stuck in the black book once more. "Have a nice day."
"What's a gore crow?" asked Celia after Cassandra had left. She was half-curious as to what it was, but the other half of her really knew she didn't want to know this.
"A gore crow can be one of two things," said Hermione. "The Type A gore crow is the rotting body of a crow with a broken soul of a man or woman implanted inside, and they tear anything alive to pieces, with the exception of the Summoner. The Type B gore crow is the body of a human with the soul still in it. It might be a bit decomposed, or even up to the skeletal state, but the soul is put back in to the sad remains of the body. They can function like a normal human, but they know things humans shouldn't, and they are pretty much a resurrected person who hasn't been completely recovered, so the body is still dead. Most have a grim outlook on things. Both Type A and Type B gore crows are extremely dangerous if not handled correctly, and I hope that quenches your curiosity about gore crows, Celia."
Celia looked like she was going to vomit after she heard that. "That's disgusting."
"Um...Hermione? D-did you say tha-that they kn-kn-know things? Like wh-what?" Josh really looked nervous about asking this, and seemed to be dreading the answer.
Nobody was prepared for what Atticus said to answer Josh. "Well, Josh, Type Bs know what has happened to people and what will happen to them. They will delight in telling you painful truth--they really don't lie much--and who has done wrong to you behind your back. They can tell you what will happen to you and other people in the future. They will tell others how you wronged them as well. They are even able to realize your deepest, darkest, secrets in seconds just by looking you straight in the eyes or by listening to your voice. They stir up chaos, but they are so honest when they speak, you can't help but believe them, because what they say is true. They never tell people anything good, since they think that hope is the worst emotion of them all."
All of a sudden, Harry heard a rather violent fit of coughing coming from Turret Thirteen. He rushed over toward the Necromancy tower to find Cyanis, Ebonyste, and Lewn right outside the door, banging on it furiously. All three of them had chains of garlic around their neck. "Come on out, Darius. We're waiting!"
Ahsimal unlocked and opened the door. He was still coughing, and cast dirty looks at the three teachers. "What do you think you're doing?"
Lewn quickly pulled out a wooden stake. "We're doing Nezura a favor without her even knowing...we've come here to destroy the vampire, the blight to our beloved school."
Ebonyste nodded energetically and said, "I learned in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class, when Professor Tellulan was teaching it, that vampires will melt when they smell garlic."
Ahsimal rolled his eyes and then hissed at the other teachers, "It doesn't melt them, you dolt. All vampires are strongly allergic to garlic--" he paused to let out another fit of coughing and then continued. "--and it gets them very grouchy. Now, I was somewhat in a good mood until I got a bit of that horrid aroma. I'm not going to be nice to my students for the rest of the week, that's what I'm guessing, due to you three idiots." He coughed again and then looked at Lewn and Ebonyste. He sighed and said, "How you two became teachers, I'll never know."
Harry, Hermione, and Ron stayed to listen in on the conversation while Celia, Josh, Atticus, and the others had started to head off toward their House Common Rooms. "Well, that was weird. Who would have guessed...Ahsimal's a vampire!" Ron looked thrilled. "I know they've got a bad reputation and everything, but Charlie has a vampire pen-pal in Dublin that's as nice as she can be. When Beryl—that's her name—came to visit, she brought everyone some rather rare items you can only get in Ireland. I also know Ahsimal was about to yell at us up in Turret Seven, but over-all, he doesn't seem so bad."
"Well, I could have told you that he was a vampire as soon as we saw him in the Welcoming Feast," said Hermione, folding her arms. "He told everyone that his eyes were sensitive towards bright lights, and he also perfectly fits all the vampiric traits found in our new Defense Against the Dark Arts book, How to Prepare Yourself for What's Surely Coming by Artemis Acheson--"
Hermione was cut short because Nezura rushed down the halls, looking absolutely terrified. Snape, McGonagall, Sprout, and Leir were right behind her, trying to catch up with the petite teacher. None of them looked too cheerful either. Nezura ran right past the students and said, "Excuse me," as politely as she could while continuing to run. She reached the end of the hall and turned right, out of Harry's sight. The other four followed a few seconds later. Hermione and Ron rushed off towards the Gryffindor Tower, knowing that something really bad had probably just happened. Harry, however, wanted to know what was going on, so he peeked from the side of the wall. He could see Nezura and the others standing over what looked like a dead body. After his eyes had adjusted a bit better, Harry realized who had died with a sickening sense of recognition...Quinn Moon of Ravenclaw, one of Hawkbane Professor Leir's four sponsored students. Nezura said in a rather upset voice, "Not another one!"
"This is the fifth occurrence today, dead just like the others," said McGonagall.
"I can almost guarantee this isn't the last one we'll find today," Snape added. "We're bound to find others. Let's see...who have we found like this in the past hour?"
"Morag MacDougal from Hufflepuff, Ella Jorkins from Hufflepuff, Sally-Anne Perks from Gryffindor, Samuel McCallisten from Hufflepuff, and Quinn Moon from Ravenclaw," said Sprout. "Gee, the majority of them are part of my House..."
Nezura looked at the body sadly and took a picture before everyone picked Quinn's limp form up. "We'll have to write his parents, tell them what happened to their son as far as we know, and ask if they would be willing to have him resurrected by Skylarke or Ahsimal--"
"Ahsimal's the only registered Necromancer here, Mitzi!" McGonagall shouted.
"I know that," Nezura said nervously and then said, "But I heard Skylarke's just as skilled, if not more so, than Ahsimal."
"How can you say that?" McGonagall snapped at the pretty teacher. "Darius has been teaching Necromancy here since Hogwarts was built! Mortimer was one of his pupils, so whatever Professor Skylarke knows about Necromancy, he learned it from Darius Ahsimal."
"Time has nothing to do with how good you are at something," Nezura hissed back. "I'm telling you, Mortimer Skylarke is better at Necromancy than Darius Ahsimal!"
"Here they go again," Harry heard Leir mutter to Snape. "Don't those two ever get along?" The young teacher's eyeliner was beginning to run from his tears. "Quinn was my Ravenclaw, Sam was my Hufflepuff, and Sally-Anne was my Gryffindor...whoever did this wants to kill Draco Malfoy next, that's what I'm guessing, because he's my Slytherin, and now he's my star pupil, seeing as I have nobody else left to sponsor."
"I seriously doubt Malfoy's in jeopardy," Snape said. "Help me carry Moon to the infirmary, Wolfgang. Maybe that will clear your mind from your worries."
Nezura and McGonagall continued to argue about who was the better Necromancer (Ahsimal or Skylarke) until another shriek was heard a couple of halls down. "My word...will this never cease!" Nezura groaned and took off again, her wand in her hand. She rushed back down the hall and passed Harry. She stopped immediately and said, "Potter, head back to Gryffindor Tower."
"But--"
"NOW!" Nezura shouted. "Something's out there, and five students have already been mauled to death...just like Remus Lupin, the Tawny twins--Michelle and Audrey were my best friends--, Kevin McCallisten, and Gabriel Thomas. The death toll is rising, and I don't want 'Harry Potter' to be a name on the casualty list...we need you."
"I want to help, Professor!" Harry said, and then remembered what Nezura had said on the train. "Come on, Mitzi! Let me do something!"
Nezura looked in Harry's eyes. She seemed to realize that there was no way she could deter the boy's desire to find out what was going on. "Very well, Harry...I won't stop you, but please stay close to me. I'll kill myself if whatever-it-is gets you." Nezura made sure that Harry didn't go down any corridors by himself. Her eyes widened for a moment and then she pointed to their right. "The shriek was that way," she said shakily. "Harry, pull out your wand. I can promise you that this is going to be a mess."
Nezura rapidly ran down the corridors and Harry followed the little teacher as quickly as he could. The hallways were winding, but the shriek's echo could be heard as they kept passing. "Concentrate, Harry...the enemy probably wants you to get sidetracked." Chasing Nezura seemed to have no end or change of pace...the shriek was everywhere, but no body had been found. "If it's not around this corner I'm giving up on finding--"
"Mitzi!" Sprout shouted. "I found the victim."
"Good for you!" Nezura said sarcastically to the Head of Hufflepuff. "Are you sure that's where that shriek came from?"
"Affirmative."
"Well, who is it?" Nezura shouted back, cupping her hands around her mouth.
"It's a Gryffindor First Year, Mitzi," Sprout said sadly. "She's still alive, but just that."
"Can I get a name?" Nezura said in an exasperated tone. Her fingers were drumming her folded arms, and her left foot was tapping on the floor in a uniform beat.
"Meredith Fallowin," Sprout said. She moved so Harry and Nezura could see the eleven-year-old girl. She was bleeding badly from the neck, and her eyes were blank and staring into nothing. Her hands were clasping something that wasn't there. She was muttering something about a veil.
Nezura gasped and then turned to face Harry. "I think it's time we retired for the night and made sure everyone else gets to sleep. I can guarantee that you'll have Defense Against the Dark Arts, Clairvoyancy, Alchemy, Curses & Rootwork, and Potions tomorrow. Even though half a dozen students have wound up dead this week, Dumbledore probably sees no reason to cancel classes." She escorted Harry to the Gryffindor Tower and said, "If any of your teachers, especially Ahsimal, give you any trouble, just let me know." She walked off quietly, her wand still out and ready for action.
Harry returned to the boys' dormitories and got into bed without even changing into his pajamas. He drifted off into a clouded, dreamless sleep.
The week passed, and all of the students were being looked after, since the incidents in Hogwarts were becoming ever more frequent. A teacher (Professor Miffles) had shown up dead, and the list of student deaths now consisted of twenty-seven names. Ahsimal was getting blamed, since he was a vampire (most of the bodies were found mangled with the most damage on the neck), but Harry got the feeling that the Necromancy teacher was innocent...this time.
Students couldn't go out into the halls without a teacher escorting them. The only places students could get away from the teachers were the dormitories (where a teacher with insomnia would be waiting patiently in the hall) and the bathrooms (where an impatient teacher would be outside the door and tell you when you've been in there too long) for privacy reasons.
Harry was rather upset about the unfairness of it all and decided to tell Ron and Hermione how he felt about this inequity. "When I had to use the bathroom, I had Snape accompany me, while Draco gets Leir to escort him around! I think I sense favoritism among the Hawkbanes." He kicked a soda can another student had littered in the hallway.
Ron shrugged. "If anyone gets favoritism treatment, it's you. I think it's obvious that Lewn, Snitchgrass, Furrier, and Parenein like you a lot. I'm not so sure about Leir or Ahsimal...I really don't like that guy's class. Sure, he's nice--and pretty cool--, but everything about Necromancy freaks me out."
Hermione patted Ron's shoulder. "I feel the same way. That class gives me the shivers, too." She then changed the subject for easier chat. "Who do you think is responsible for all these killings?"
"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Ron said nervously. His face had turned pale.
"Well, I agree with you, Ron. It's either Voldemort--oh, give me a break, Ron! It's just another name--or one of his minions...what about Mortius?" said Hermione.
"Maybe Ahsimal is Mortius," Harry said jokingly. He felt that the vampire was an innocent fellow, and Ahsimal was too kind to have ever been a Death Eater.
However, the three students were surprised to see the look on their escort's face. Professor Lewn wasn't glowing like usual; she looked worried. "Who's Mortis?"
Draco pointed at Professor Lewn, and made a remark to Rick and Marcus. "Aren't you glad that we've got Wolfe as our escort?" Harry could tell Draco was glad that he didn't have Lewn supervising him. "I heard Cassandra's stuck with her dear Professor Ahsimal. I bet she's thrilled."
Marcus laughed at Draco's wisecrack about Cassandra Snape. "Dear, sweet, Professor Ahsimal indeed! The guy has the driest sense of humor I've ever had the misfortune to run across. I like him and his class, though. He's kind of cool."
Parkinson nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Ahsimal's my favorite teacher because I like Necromancy, but I think Leir's really sexy."
Leir turned around to face the group of students with rosy cheeks from embarrassment. "Not you too!" He then saw Harry and his friends scowling at Lewn, and then said, "Harry! Do you three have the same classes as Draco?" When Harry nodded, Leir said, "Well, would you rather have me escort you?"
"Gladly!" Hermione said, rushing up toward the teacher and seizing his arm. Leir's rosy face turned scarlet, and the expression on his face reminded Harry of a trapped animal looking frantically for a way out of its predator's grasp.
On the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, Leir asked the students, "Have any of you ever heard of our school's toilet monster? We call him the Beast in the Bowl, but most of the students call him 'Beastie' for short."
"I've met Beastie before," said Marcus. "Speaks English very well, quite polite. Just don't sit on the john he's occupying or you'll regret it. Let's face it; where are you more exposed than on the toilet seat?"
Harry and the others laughed at that, and continued to listen with interest. Beastie was a popular topic in the Hawkbane classes, but he was rarely seen these days. As the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was approaching, Harry stopped while the others kept going, oblivious they'd just left him behind. He had heard something interesting coming from a classroom that was usually empty...a conversation.
"You know I'm not guilty. Why does everyone think it's me? Hawkbanes should have control over their actions, and believe me when I say I do," Harry realized that the speaker was Ahsimal immediately...that elegant voice was one that was hard to forget. Ahsimal didn't sound too happy, either. "Look, I'm in Bloodlust right now, but do you see me attacking anyone?"
Harry looked through the crack in the door to see that Snitchgrass, Parenein, and Lewn were in there as well. Snitchgrass was rubbing her lower back side and looked like she was hurting pretty badly. Lewn raised a hand meekly and said, "Those poor kids that wound up dead...the most damage was done in the spot you bit--"
"I didn't kill those students, damn it!" Ahsimal snarled at the blonde teacher furiously. "If anything, I'm guessing that Death Eaters, if not Voldemort himself, is the person to blame."
Parenein gulped and then said, "DO NOT USE THE DARK LORD'S NAME! Darius, I believe you, but I think the problem is the pupils and how rumors get started. Give them a piece of juicy gossip, and tongues will wag immediately, I promise you." Snitchgrass groaned and threw up in the wastebasket. "Lucinda, what's wrong?"
Snitchgrass looked up, her hair a complete mess. "I met zat little monster za kids call Beastie."
Ahsimal raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "You met Beastie?" He apparently saw the humor potential in this and, with a bit of impolite snickering, asked Lucinda, "How did you meet the Beast in the Bowl, Lucinda?" Harry had to stifle his own giggles.
Snitchgrass gave Ahsimal a dirty look and said, "I zat down, and somezing bit me. I jumped up and zen saw a creature in ze toilet looking back at me. It vas slimy, black, about ze size of a large houzecat, 'ad fins like a lionfish, three rows of needlelike teeth, and froggy skin. It hissed at me, and zen it jumped back down za drain." She rubbed her rump where Beastie had nipped her. "Zose little teeth hurt."
Harry really wanted to laugh, but couldn't risk getting caught. Ahsimal and the other Hawkbanes in the room burst out in laughter. "Oh, poor Lucinda, just doing what humans do. Did Beastie say anything? Some of the students said the little fellow can speak English."
Snitchgrass scowled at the vampire. "No, it zimply hissed at me!"
Ahsimal and the others boomed with even more uncalled-for laughter. "I really bet your ass hurts, and I get the feeling that you're not going to be sitting down for a week." Snitchgrass chased Ahsimal around the room, trying to get him to stop laughing at her.
Harry had an epiphany; perhaps Beastie was connected to the attacks...or maybe even the gorgonix? It could attack anyone in the school at any time. He recalled hearing Marcus say, "Let's face it; where are you more exposed than on the toilet seat?" a few minutes ago. Oh yes, Beastie could easily be a prime suspect for what was going on. Now, all Harry had to do was find the creature and interview it...after Defense Against the Dark Arts with Nezura was over and done with for the day.
He walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and saw that he still was surprisingly one of the first students in there. "Take a seat, Harry," Nezura said in an energetic tone. "We're going to cover something challenging today. Since you're doing so well in here, could you help any fellow Gryffindors that might be having trouble? You realize this isn't a Hawkbane course, and there are some people in here that have poor grades. Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas are only two of a series, if you catch my drift." She smiled and said, "Would you like to know what we'll be doing today?"
"I sure would!" Harry said, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
Nezura giggled and said, "Chimaeras." She pointed to a box and said, "Sure, when you first see them, they look neat...but mark my words when I say these this bugger can do a lot of damage. They Shapeshift into the strongest thing they can think of, and attack as best they can, which is saying quite a lot. I'm asking volunteer students to either use a Shielding Spell like Magarus Nistenia or wear a suit of armor." She laughed and said, "Trust me, Harry, things are going to get nasty today."
Nezura's class was a lot of fun (as usual) but it was most certainly challenging. Chimaeras were really impressive, but they were one of the toughest creatures the students had ever faced. It was almost as if they could figure out what their foe was the most afraid of in an instant, and would make a really dramatic scene by changing into the worst nightmare of the student that was volunteering.
When Neville got up there, the chimaera changed into Professor Snape, and it was carrying a mace in one tightly clenched fist, dripping with blood. Neville panicked, and Nezura had to subdue the chimaera before things got too messy. She did so by playing a few notes on her clarinet, which made the little creature shift back to normal and fall asleep.
"That was close," Nezura said. "Don't worry, Neville. Most people react like you just did when they first encounter a chimaera. You were doing just fine until it shifted."
When Harry had faced a chimaera in there, almost all of the students in the room ran out in terror (rightfully so, because the creature shifted into Voldemort), screaming at the top of their lungs. Harry shouted "Magarus Nistenia!" as he raised his wand, but nothing happened. The creature kept on coming forward, its pale hands stretched out to strangle Harry. Nezura once more had to subdue the chimaera.
"Harry, I was expecting something like this to happen, so that's why I brought my clarinet." She played the pretty little piece again and the chimaera fell asleep after shifting to its original state. She sighed and said, "Okay, we'll have a review on this tomorrow. I'm sure that if you guys ever get around to Curses & Rootwork with Professor Skylarke, you'll all be able to use Magarus Nistenia properly and will have some better results than just a gold fog. Okay, now I've got to escort all of you to Clairvoyancy. Do we need to stop anywhere on the way to Turret Two?"
"Oh joy," said Harry. "Now we go to Professor Lewn's class. I hate Clairvoyance."
Isis Acheron was walking with the group now. She'd managed to become Hermione's best friend, as well as Celia's, so she was allowed to join the crowd whenever she liked. She grumbled, "I hate Professor Lewn, period." Isis and Celia looked at each other and gagged.
"Hello, everyone," said Atticus. "Have I missed anything?"
"Not much," Harry told his friend. "We're all just talking about how much we detest Lewn."
Atticus raised an eyebrow and looked amused. "I'm not even going to ask."
Nezura made sure everyone made it to Turret Two, which she unlocked. "All of these precautions are for your own good, according to Cornelius Fudge. We don't want any more deaths here at Hogwarts, and that's why I wrote the Ministry, saying that we needed to place more Aurors here...but even I agree that this is getting out of hand..." She waved and said, "See you tomorrow!" Before she headed off, she faced the students and said, "By the way, Gryffindors, my baby griffins are old enough to where they don't need to be watched all the time. They need to find some loving homes, so I was wondering if anyone would like to consider having one for a pet. If you're interested, tell me at dinner, okay? Until then, I'll be seeing you!" She blew everyone an air kiss and started jogging down the halls. Harry heard her say, "Hagrid, would you like a griffin?" and he couldn't help but laugh. Nezura could be such a cheery and fun person when she wasn't worried or stressed out. Since the killings had slowed down for a while, she'd been looking pretty happy, and had been giving Slytherin and Gryffindor points like wildfire...not that either house really minded the extra attention too much.
Harry turned around to hear what Celia, Isis, and Hermione were talking about as he took his seat next to Atticus. He overheard Isis say, "I agree! Professor Leir is gorgeous!"
Atticus tapped Harry on the shoulder and said, "I think she's losing it. Why haven't they hired any attractive female teachers for us guys to swoon over?"
Professor Lewn came into the class wearing bubblegum-pink robes and cotton candy-colored bunny slippers. "Hi class!" she said in her seductive voice. "I'm sorry we didn't start this unit sooner. We're going to deal with premonitions this week! Doesn't that sound like lots of fun?"
Lisa Turpin scowled at the blonde. "Boring," she said flatly. Harry howled with laughter, as did everyone else in the class. Even Lisa giggled after she'd said that.
Lewn acted like she hadn't heard Lisa. "You know, my class will be your favorite once this year's over. I'm going to prove to all of you that I'm better than Wolfgang Leir...that cocky bastard is trying to tell me how to run my class! Well, we'll be doing more discussions and hands-on projects than I'd first intended...this is going to be a look and touch class!" Her bust bounced as she said the last part, because she jumped.
Draco turned to Rick and snickered. "That depends on what we get to see and touch."
Hermione turned around and scowled at them. "Seriously, you two can be so immature it's not even funny. Grow up and get a life, Malloy!"
"I've got a great one, unlike you, Mudblood!" Malfoy snapped back. Hermione looked like she was about to cry, and her face went white as she sat back down.
Harry groaned, knowing this was going to be a class that would run slowly. A ditsy beauty queen running a Hawkbane course? This had failure written all over it. If anyone asked him, he would admit to thinking that Lewn was quite appealing to look at, but never did he think she was an intelligent individual...Professor Lewn was too good at acting dumb to be faking it. Harry gagged, although Lewn was nice to stare at. There was too much pink...it made the Clairvoyancy teacher look like a Barbie doll. "Okay, class," she said. "We're going to do a questionnaire to see what makes you guys tick in here."
"That was so annoying!" Celia grumbled, looking at the results of her questionnaire (which had nothing to do with Clairvoyancy; it had been a love quiz out of Witch Weekly) and was unhappy with her results. "I don't think Lewn has a lot of smarts underneath all of that blonde hair. She is such an air head!"
Isis and Hermione nodded in agreement. "She's so ditsy, too," said Isis.
"Harry, how did you put up with her making that melodramatic performance about your premature death like Trelawney used to do?" asked Hermione.
Harry smiled. "Easy, I put up with it for two reasons. The first was because predictions can be so inaccurate, and the other is because I can almost guarantee that Alchemy will be a lot more fun than Clairvoyancy."
When Harry walked into Turret Six, he looked at Parenein. The teacher looked dreadful...like he hadn't slept in ages. The formula he was working on today, a cure for boredom, would need everyone's attention. Harry, Ron, and Josh were quite famous for dozing off in Clairvoyancy and Alchemy, but they still managed to do well.
"Did you lunatics do your homework, or did you just loaf around and forget about it?" Parenein said sleepily. "If you are part of any extracurricular activity, like Quidditch or one of those new Dueling teams, you're excused for not listing the terms we'll be covering today. If not," he paused, and grinned, showing off his perfectly clean dentures. "You owe me an hour of detention late at night...on a non-Ahsimal period--"
"Professor," said Hermione. "What do you mean a non-Ahsimal period?"
Parenein let out a huge yawn and said, "Didn't you already know? Ahsimal teaches another Necromancy class at night. That's only an option for his college and Hawkbane students. Some of the stuff he teaches in there isn't taught in his day class, like how to resurrect the dead. Well, enough about Darius Ahsimal! I'll go around the room in my squeaky shoes, checking your assignments. Sorry I couldn't find any that were noisier; these are the best I can do on such short notice."
Atticus whispered in Harry's ear, "He uses the squeak shoes as a sign of power. That way, you can know where he is and how long it's going to take him to move to your direction. It builds up suspense."
"Really?" Harry asked jokingly. "I just thought he was trying to be annoying."
"That too," said Celia. "Now watch; he's going to ask Snape to do a demonstration for extra credit."
Parenein stood up and started stroking the pendant around his neck. "Hey, Cassandra, why don't you show us how to create the cure for boredom and lack of interest? That is what you were supposed to be studying for today's lesson." Cassandra didn't stand up; her face was buried in her pale hands. "What's wrong, Miss Snape?"
Cassandra raised her head up; she looked bleak. She had dark rings under her eyes, and her skin had a sunken texture to it. "I can't concentrate, sir. I feel like I'm going to--" she fell out of her seat with a sickening thud.
Atticus whispered to Ron, "She gets hurt or sick a lot, doesn't she? I think she just wants some attention from the teachers because we aren't giving her any."
Parenein sighed and got Marcus to contact Madame Pomfrey. "I guess that hell-of-a schedule finally caught up with her," he muttered, staring into his spiky mirror with a blank expression.
Next was Curses & Rootwork with Professor Skylarke. Harry wasn't too thrilled about this. Sure, Skylarke was a nice guy, but he could be so gloomy. It was almost as if an invisible Dementor followed him everywhere; never had Harry or any other student seen Mortimer Skylarke laugh or smile. He was obviously trying to hide something, too; Skylarke was a bit on the paranoid side.
Skylarke groaned as the students came in. "Please, keep the talking level down to a dull roar. You don't want to upset the balances I have spent hours putting together for today's assignment, students of Hawkbanes."
Malfoy raised his hand, and used his other one to ruffle his hair. "Really, Professor Skylarke, you need to get a life. You must have nothing better to do than spend hours of your time working on a project you know we'll just screw up anyway."
Skylarke rolled his eyes, like a student would to a Professor that was yelling at them. "Thank you for volunteering, Draco." He picked up a jar of brown glass. It was so dark, nobody could see what was inside. "I want you to put your left hand into this jar."
Malfoy snapped back, "What if I refuse?"
Skylarke sighed in an exasperated way. "I knew you'd say that, you wimp. If you refuse, then I'll take credit away from your grade. A 'P' to a 'D' in two seconds...do I make myself clear?"
That got him to cooperate; he obviously wanted to pass, and Harry and the others knew that Malfoy had a 'P' in Alchemy already. If he got a 'D' or a 'T' in any course, he would most definitely be kicked out of the Hawkbane program. He couldn't afford to do any worse in Curses & Rootwork. He stuck his hand in the jar nervously, and then let out a bloodcurdling scream. When his hand came out of the jar, it was covered in blue flames.
Skylarke didn't laugh or smile; he still had the same grim look on his face. "Did it hurt?" he asked in an emotionless tone as Malfoy stuck his hand in a nearby water basin to quench the fire.
Malfoy growled, "Hell yeah."
Skylarke raised an eyebrow and said, "It was supposed to do that." He looked at his students and said in a calm voice, "You all will be glad to know that was not today's project. It was nothing more than my Retribution Tonic I got from your Potions Master."
Malfoy cradled his hand and sat back down in his desk. Skylarke paid him no more attention. "Okay, class. Today, we will begin our unit on one of my more popular subjects I teach here in Curses & Rootwork. We are going to start making voodoo dolls." Skylarke handed everyone a copy of the instructions on the board and said, "Homework will be to complete the dolls if you do not finish this class period, and make sure that you copy the instructions in your notes for future reference. That ink wears off in a few days."
Harry's eyes lit up, but he wasn't the only one. The whole class looked absolutely thrilled. Neville tapped Harry's shoulder and said, "I'm making one of Professor Snape and two of the Lestranges. Who are you going to make your voodoo dolls of?" Neville looked delighted, and since he was doing well in this class (surprisingly one of the top marks) he got the feeling his doll would not misfire or fail to work.
Harry whispered back to Neville, "You'll find out in a minute." He then looked to see how everyone else was coming along with the project. Hermione had already finished a doll of Lisa Turpin, and was working on one that shared a striking resemblance to Pansy Parkinson. Ron was having trouble making his, which was starting to look a lot like Professor Parenein. Celia and Isis were sitting together, making dolls of Crabbe and Goyle. Marcus was making one of Professor Ebonyste, but was having a bit of trouble putting the right herbs and oils inside the stuffing. Rick and Josh were having a lot of fun; they had made voodoo dolls of their parents and siblings. Neville's doll looked just like Snape, even down to the scowl and greasy hair, so Harry guessed it was coming along nicely. Cassandra had finished three dolls (Parenein, Lewn, and Snitchgrass) and was working on a doll of McGonagall. Malfoy had finished three dolls (that looked very similar to Harry, Dobby the house elf, and Hermione) and was working on a doll that couldn't have been anyone but Ron. Parvati, Seamus, Dean, and Lavender were sitting at a table, and they were all working on a doll of the same person (Dolores Umbridge). Harry looked back down at his doll. He had put the right stuffing in his, now he had to utter the spell necessary to "personalize" it and add the desired details to the surface, and then his masterpiece would be complete.
As the class continued their project in Curses & Rootwork, Cassandra gave off a cruel laugh as she completed her doll of McGonagall. Harry and Celia turned around, as if the girl had lost her mind (or at least what was left of it) "Are you feeling all right?" Harry asked, a bit worried that the Slytherin was up to no good.
Cassandra shut up immediately and shrugged. "I'm fine. Why ask?"
"Perchance," said Celia, "You sounded like our psychotic Necromancy teacher, Professor Ahsimal, just then."
"He's not a psycho," said Cassandra flatly, sticking a pin into her Cyanis doll's left leg. A shriek could be heard from Turret Fourteen as soon as she did that. "Darius is a vampire, and I trust him with my darkest secrets. He is also my Hawkbane, in case you didn't notice, and therefore he is my favorite teacher. However, I think your taste differs from your Hawkbane, Celia. Isn't your favorite class Manipulations rather than Animagery?"
Celia nodded warily. "It sure is. What about it?" She obviously wanted to say something cruel to the girl, but she was also trying her best not to do so.
Cassandra sighed and said, "I know all of you girls think Wolfgang's a sexy guy." She then raised an eyebrow and got a perplexed look on her face. "What does it feel like, I wonder?"
"Cassandra," said Celia. "You mean you never think about love?"
Cassandra blinked in shock at Celia's question. She looked a bit offended. "Sure, I think about love. I just don't think about what I was talking about...a little thing you can't help called lust. How does it feel to have lustful thoughts, Celia?" She looked absolutely curious about this, and it was an innocent curiosity, not one of those filthy gossipy curiosities one might catch from Lisa. Cassandra seemed to only want to know what lust felt like, and nothing more. Harry sniggered as quietly as he could; she looked hilarious.
Celia's cheeks turned red after hearing Cassandra. "You mean you don't know!"
Cassandra shrugged casually. "I know it sounds weird, but I never have."
Celia smiled, realizing that Cassandra wasn't making fun of her, but just wanted an answer to the question. "Being in lust is the greatest feeling! You are actually attracted to someone for some reason or another, and you actually dream about them like some secret crush!"
Cassandra looked grossed out by that definition for a while, until she cracked up and started to laugh. "That is the corniest thing I've ever heard! Secret crush! Who would have thought up something like that for lust but you?"
Celia turned beet red. "Shut up, Cassandra. Did you know you can be such a pain in the ass at times?"
'Oh dear,' thought Harry as he saw Hermione coming toward them with a very heavy book. 'Here it comes.'
"According to the New College Edition of the Hogwarts Heritage Dictionary, the first definition of lust is 'sexual craving, especially excessive or unrestrained.' The second definition is 'any overwhelming desire or craving.' The third definition is 'obsolete pleasure, delight, or to relish.' And if you move down to lustful--"
"Can it, Hermione," said Celia.
"Look, Celia," said Cassandra. "I'm sorry if I sounded rude, okay? I didn't mean to offend you. I have my feelings hurt often, and I hope I didn't do the same to you." She held out her hand for Celia to shake. "No harm done?"
Celia shrugged and said, "Okay. No harm done," as she shook Cassandra's hand. "But don't think this makes us friends."
"I wouldn't do that to you," Cassandra said icily. She then added the finishing touches to another voodoo doll she had been working on, this one looked like Cho Chang. "At last..." Cassandra said in a false-sinister tone that got Harry to start laughing. "At last my pep rally collection has been completed!"
'She can be nice when she wants to be. It hasn't left her completely,' Harry thought. "You're truly evil, you know."
Cassandra nodded in agreement. "I know, and I've heard people tell me that for a long time. Curses & Rootwork is a cool class and everything, don't get me wrong, but I still like Necromancy by far the best."
"I hate Necromancy," said Celia, shivering. "Ahsimal's a freak."
"Well, so is Skylarke," Isis piped in before getting back to work. She didn't interrupt the conversation between Celia, Harry, and Cassandra anymore that class period.
"Ahsimal scares me too," said Harry. "But what does that matter? I love his class!" He then tapped Ron on the shoulder and asked, "Are you sure a voodoo doll's supposed to look like that?"
"I'm pretty sure," Ron said confidently.
"Who's it supposed to be anyway?" Hermione asked, joining in on the talking.
"Malfoy," Harry said, beaming at his masterpiece.
Ron and Hermione giggled, asking their friend to test out his classwork and see if it would do what it was supposed to do. As soon as Harry pulled out the needle, a pair of olive green eyes looked straight at him. "What are you doing, Harry?"
Harry's cheeks turned pink; he knew he'd been caught. "Professor Skylarke, I was about to test my voodoo doll out to see if I had made it properly." It was the lamest excuse, and he knew it.
"We were going to do that in our next class together," Skylarke said dryly. "Put the needle down unless you would like to spend a couple of hours this evening with me." Suddenly, the bell rang. Skylarke let out a heavy sigh and said, "I'll see all of you Thursday. Remember what I said was your homework assignment, and come prepared with your voodoo dolls. We will be testing them next time." Everyone rushed out of the door, but Skylarke grabbed Harry's shoulder before he could get out. "I need to have a word with you, and I hope you do not mind."
"I don't mind in the least," said Harry. "The more time you keep me in here, the less time I'll have to deal with Snape." He was rather surprised to see what Skylarke did...the teacher laughed.
"That was pretty honest," Skylarke said between snickers, and then he straightened up, looking serious again. "Harry, did you know Sirius Black?"
Harry gulped. 'How does he know? Is Skylarke a Legilimens like Voldemort or is it really that obvious?' "He was my godfather."
"I was aware of that. Have you wondered about the attacks that are going around the school? I get the feeling that it's a gorgonix, just like the last time this happened--"
"It's happened before!" Harry interrupted the teacher, but he didn't care about that right now. "When? Who died?"
"Your father was a Seventh Year and I was a Fifth Year the last time a gorgonix was fully unleashed at Hogwarts, and nearly three dozen people died. Many people wondered who was to blame for this, and most of the fingers pointed at our Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Tybalt Tellulan." Skylarke pulled something that looked like a tiny ball made of blood red glass out of his pocket and put it in Harry's hand. "After you're through with your classes and homework, look into this sphere. All the questions you might have about the tragedy I mentioned to you will be answered in here. It's not exactly a Pensieve, but when used correctly, it will work the same way. However, you can manipulate the past if you're not careful. I suggest you be extremely cautious when using this, or let someone who knows how to use a Telemith pretty well accompany you as you view the past." The tardy bell rang, and Skylarke said, "I assume you'll be needing an excused tardy for Professor Snape?"
"Indeed," said Harry, holding out his other hand for the signed slip of paper Skylarke was writing his name on. "Thanks, Professor," he said as he started to walk off.
"Look, don't trust anyone you barely know. Don't trust me, Nezura, Goldman, Fallowin, Cantarus, Ebonyste; anyone...neither you nor I have any idea who might be the host of the gorgonix."
"How do you know it's a gorgonix?" Harry asked suspiciously.
Skylarke blanched and then said, "I've seen how they kill, okay? Look into the Telemith and that will answer most of it. Mitzi Nezura was sent by the Order of the Phoenix to be your next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Alastor Moody thought someone like her would be a good choice. You see, Mitzi is part of the Order, and has been an undercover Auror for the Ministry for years. You can learn a lot from someone like her, Harry, and she would be thrilled to hear that you are aspiring to become an Auror. She saw the body of Remus Lupin outside the Dungeon a couple of weeks before you students came here, and we both have the knowledge to realize that only one of two things could have killed Remus. The murderer was either a vampire or a gorgonix. I cannot tell you any more...just access the more recent memory in the Telemith for more details." Skylarke stopped suddenly and said, "Well, enough of this," as he handed over the note for Snape explaining Harry's tardiness. He also handed over a letter in a black envelope. "You should be heading toward the Dungeon yourself. Make sure you give Professor Snape both of these, okay? I'll see you back in here Thursday, if not sooner. Remember...be cautious and trust no one."
Harry was pondering Skylarke's words as he meandered through the halls to Snape's classroom. He had taken the furthest route to get there, postponing the inevitable as long as he could. He opened the door to the classroom, and the smell of ginger root and oleander was so strong, it nearly brought him to his knees. All his classmates had stopped working on their potions to see who had disturbed the class. Snape scowled, got up from his desk, and thundered toward the door. "Why are you late!" he bellowed.
"Skylarke--"
Harry was cut off. "That's Professor Skylarke to you, Potter. Now, why are you late for my class?"
"Professor Skylarke needed to talk to me about something, sir," Harry said shakily. "Here's my excused tardy." He handed over the signed slip, but he hid the envelope in his pocket. He wanted to read it for himself before he handed it to Snape, but then his mind started racing. Maybe Skylarke will ask Snape if I gave him the letter--
"What have you got there, Potter?" Snape asked suspiciously. "Hand it over to me this instant or you will be faced with detention for the rest of the week!"
Harry unwillingly handed the Potions Master the letter and asked, "Am I excused?"
"Only because I hold your Curses & Rootwork teacher in high regard," Snape answered coldly. "Had it been one of the Hawkbanes, save Leir or Ahsimal, or one of your other teachers, I probably would have torn this excuse to shreds and written you up. You are lucky, Potter, that Skylarke is my best friend."
'What!' Harry thought. 'They're nothing alike!' "May I take my seat now?" he said sharply to the teacher. He knew what was coming, but he didn't care right now.
Snape rolled his dark eyes. "You most certainly may, Potter. Even though you missed the first fifteen minutes of class--which I spent going over the process of making a cure for the common cold in detail--I expect you to finish your potion along with everyone else before the bell rings. You may team up with someone for this project, since everybody in here was given the same option. Look around the room...surely some sorry soul will wind up stuck with you since they had the misfortune to not find a better partner beforehand." He then moved back to his desk and shouted, "By the way, Potter, I will be deducting ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness."
"I had an excused tardy from Skylarke!" Harry shouted back angrily.
"First off, you are to refer to him as Professor Skylarke, and secondly...he wrote that he held you five minutes past the tardy bell. That was nearly ten minutes ago. The same staircase leading up to Turret Fifteen leads down to my classroom, so it could, at the most, have only taken you five minutes to get here. You were intentionally taking your longest to get down here, and for your puerile behavior, I will be deducting another ten points from Gryffindor. I can do this all day, Potter, as long as you keep on yelling. I've got a cup of really strong green tea on my desk, and it will be hours before I get tired. Now, take a seat and find a partner before I get even more pissed than I already am and make you work on this by yourself...which I am very tempted to do right now." Snape curled his lip up repulsively and gave Harry a very dirty look.
Harry scowled back and took his seat next to Ron. "Got a partner?" he asked.
"Sorry, mate," said Ron. "I'm working with Atticus."
Harry kept looking around the room to see someone he could team up with. "Hermione! Have you got a partner?"
"Sorry, Harry, but Neville and I are working together. Dean and Seamus are working in a group too, so don't even bother asking them." Hermione looked around and said, "I think Rick and Marcus are working together, too. Malfoy's partners with that horrid Parkinson girl, but I think Cassandra's working by herself. You two get along alright, so why don't you go ask her?"
'It's worth a try,' Harry thought miserably as he approached Cassandra Snape, who was carefully measuring the ingredients before putting them gently into her cauldron. "Got a partner yet, Cassandra?"
Cassandra looked up at Harry and said, "No," in a cool voice. "Need one? This sorry soul has wound up stuck with you, since I had the misfortune to not find a better partner beforehand." She gave Harry a smug look and said jokingly, "Sound familiar?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Very funny," he said sarcastically as he sat down next to her. "So, where do we start?"
Cassandra handed over some ginger root, oleander, and something that looked a lot like gunpowder with emerald in it. She also placed a tiny vial of something next to it. "Since this is a group project, and I've already started, how about you put the ingredients in as I call them out to you? I've already measured everything, but something could always go seriously wrong. The item in the vial is nothing more than distilled dragon blood, and the other ingredients could be dangerous if placed in too swiftly or in the wrong order." She said, "Okay, I need you to put in the ginger root..."
The potion took a long time to make, but Harry felt that he and Cassandra did a rather nice job. As he handed the vial of it to Snape, he watched as the teacher closely examined it, looking for something, anything, to criticize. "Well, Potter," Snape said. "I must say you've never turned in anything this good before. Surely your partner did all the work. Who did you team up with, anyway?"
"Cassandra, sir," Harry said smugly. "I followed her instructions and mixed under her supervision--"
"That explains everything," Snape said. "My niece spoon-fed the material to you and got you to simply add the ingredients for her. I'll make sure you two never work together again...I can guarantee you that right now, Potter!" He would have started to yell, but Snape cut himself short. "However, I'm giving your group an 'O' because nothing is wrong with your sample. Don't get used to that grade, Potter. This is the first time you've ever had one in here, and I think it is quite safe to say that it will most certainly be your last."
At that moment, the bell rang. Harry rushed out of the room and was quick to join up with Ron, Hermione, and Atticus. "How did you and Neville do, Hermione?"
"We got an 'E,'" said Hermione. "It's not that bad, but I had been working my best."
"How'd Neville screw it up this time?" asked Ron.
"It's not Neville's fault that Malfoy threw a couple of bat wings in our potion and made it blow up!" Hermione shouted back. "Neville was doing just fine, so don't pick on him like that!"
"Well," Atticus said. "Ron and I got an 'A' on ours. I've had my mind more on those attacks rather than how to cure simple sneezing..."
"Good point," said Hermione. "Harry, who did you team up with, anyway?"
"Cassandra," Harry said, looking straight behind him. There she was, the reason he had gotten an 'O' on something in Snape's class. However, the girl didn't have her face buried in a book for some odd reason. She was rushing out of the Dungeon as fast as she could, and looked absolutely furious. "Cassandra, wait up! What's wrong?"
She stopped immediately and turned toward Harry. "What the Hell do you want now?" she snapped angrily. Something was obviously bothering her, judging by the tone in her voice and the look on her face. "I know what happened to my mirror." Her dark eyes were blazing with fury. "Lisa told me everything."
"What mirror?" asked Harry in a mock-innocent tone, trying to throw the angry girl off.
Cassandra gave Harry a dirty look. "Don't play dumb with me, Potter; I know better! I thought you and your friends were too good to be true...I was a fool to think that anyone could be that trustworthy. Oh shit...I even let you look in my Pensieve! What was I thinking!" The anger had worn off her face. Now she just looked like she was tremendously upset. The fire had left her eyes and had been replaced with a couple of tears. "When I asked you if you'd seen it, why did you lie straight to my face, and say you hadn't? You could never understand how important that mirror is to me…not in a million years!"
Harry felt absolutely horrible. He pulled the mirror out of his bookbag and handed it back to Cassandra. "Here," he said. "Look, I'm sorry. I stumbled across it after I looked in your Pensieve and I saw someone who was very close to me inside the mirror. That was the only way I could have talked to him or to anyone else I'd lost that I miss terribly."
The look on Cassandra Snape's face said everything. That was the exact same reason she wanted that mirror back in her possession. "Apology accepted. I probably would have stolen it had I been in your place." She held out her hand and said, "No hard feelings?" She looked as if she was expecting to be slapped across the face.
Harry shook hands with Cassandra and said, "No hard feelings here, either--"
The invitation for friendship was cut short due to the sound that was coming from the inside of the hall...squish, splat, squish, splat, squish, splat, plip, pip, squish, splat... "What do you think it is?" Hermione asked nervously.
Cassandra rolled her eyes and said, "There's probably a leak in one of the bathrooms and it's spread throughout the hall." She looked rather adventurous for a change. "The truth is out there...anyone else care to find out what's making the sounds?"
Harry raised his hand. Ron raised his, and made Hermione raise hers. Harry thought this was going to prove to be rather amusing. "We're coming," he said.
"Wait for us!" said another voice. Celia and Josh rushed into the hallway, panting for air.
"Where were you two?" asked Hermione.
"Look, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws have Ebonyste while you have Snape double-time. We only have the same schedule for the Hawkbanes," said Celia. "No need to get all huffy on us, Hermione." She folded her arms and smirked at the Gryffindors.
"Yeah," said Josh. "We ran all the way from Turret Three to get here from Foreign Magic. Feel lucky to have us here with you...my heart almost burst from the long distance." Harry took one look at his Hufflepuff friend and had to agree. Josh's body was all covered in sweat, and his hair was seriously tangled. "But, I'm ready for some more action...I'm pumped up now! Not even an army of trolls could stop me!"
"Well, I'm delighted to hear that," said Cassandra smugly.
Josh and Celia jumped and pointed at the surly-looking girl. "She's coming too!" When Harry nodded, the two friends said in unison, "You've got to be kidding us, Harry!"
"Not at all," said Harry. He then added jokingly, "If whatever-it-is attacks us, I'm sure at least Cassandra and Hermione can handle it if we can't. I'm feeling pretty secure."
"Ditto," said Ron. "There's nothing those two can't stop. Hermione will know what it is because she'd have read about it, and Cassandra can use Dark magic if our stuff doesn't work on whatever-it-is." He looked down the hall. "Well, it's a dark corridor..."
"It would be far too easy to get separated from the group," said Celia. "Why don't we all hold hands, so we won't lose each other?" She held out her hands, hoping everyone would follow her example.
Celia's idea was a good one. Celia was between Josh and Ron. Ron was between Celia and Hermione. Hermione was between Ron and Atticus. Atticus was between Hermione and Harry. Harry was between Atticus and Cassandra. Cassandra was between Harry and Josh, although Josh was rather defiant to hold hands with Snape's niece. "Don't be such a puss, Goldman," Cassandra said as she grabbed Josh's hand. Josh whined, but he eventually shut up. As for Josh, he was between Cassandra and Celia.
Atticus asked, "So, what's the plan?"
"We're going down the hall to see what's making those sounds," said Hermione. "Cassandra thinks the bathroom there might have sprung a leak and that it's not a big deal, but I've got the feeling that it's something that might be a threat."
"Maybe it's that thing that's been killing people?" Atticus asked curiously. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? The gorgonix?"
"What's that?" Celia asked. "I've never heard of a gorgonix."
"Oh," said Atticus in a fake-sinister tone. "You can read about them in Chapter Eighty-Seven of How to Prepare Yourself for What's Surely Coming by Artemis Acheron. They kill their victims slowly and will usually shape-shift before doing so, so that you'll make a mistake about who is murdering you. They usually find a person with a weak will and make them their host until they're strong enough to emerge." He folded his arms and his violet eyes stared at his fellow students from beneath his dark sunglasses. "So, do we all still want to go down there and see what's making that squishy sound?"
Harry thought that Atticus was just trying to scare them into leaving the noise behind and forgetting about it. However, the opposite happened...now everyone was dying to know what was down the hall. "Let's go!" said Harry.
As they started off, holding hands in that circle-pattern, the sound kept getting louder. Squish, splat, squish, splat, plip, pip, squish, splat...
Passing down the corridor could have taken anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour, but nobody was worried about the time. The hallway had gotten pitch black; the only way anyone could see was because a glowing green light was coming from Cassandra's pocket. The noise was getting a lot louder now...it sounded close. Everyone came to a halt, because they saw a shadow that was getting smaller, meaning that it was approaching them at a quick speed. Squish, splat, squish, splat, plip, pip, squish, splat, SPLIP! It stopped, and then everyone heard a hiss. The lights came on, and the noisemaker was standing right in front of Harry and his friends.
The thing that had been making this racket was about the height of a cat. It had black, froglike skin, amber orb-like eyes, a rounded froglike mouth with three or four rows of needle-sharp teeth, and it had gills and fins like a lionfish, only transparent black. Its front claws had long, spidery fingers webbed together, and its feet looked a lot like a scuba-diver's flippers. It had a long, lizardlike tail, and it was standing on its hind legs. It opened its mouth and said, "How do you do?" Its voice sounded like a child who had been sucking on a lot of helium. Its tail swished back and forth, and it held out its left hand to shake with one of the students. "I'm the infamous Beast in the Bowl, but, please, I prefer to be simply called 'Beastie,' if it isn't too much trouble to ask." Everyone was gaping at the creature, very surprised indeed. Beastie then faced Cassandra and said, "I take it these people are acquaintances of yours, Miss Snape?"
Cassandra nodded, and her cheeks turned pink. "Oh, sorry guys," she said. "I forgot to introduce you properly to my colleague. Everyone, this is Beastie the toilet monster. Beastie, these people are Celia Wells, Josh Goldman, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Atticus Shadow IX, and Harry Potter."
"My word," said Beastie, looking at Harry and Atticus. "They look just like how I imagined them to be." He pointed at Atticus and said, "If he wasn't in a wheelchair, I would have sworn he was his father after taking a swig from Claire's hidden fountain." He then pointed at Harry and said, "Well, you look a lot like James, but I see Lily in you, too. Would you like to know something about your father and his friends?" Harry nodded, and Beastie smiled, showing hundreds of long, pointy teeth. "James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter were pretty good friends with me. They'd ask me to terrorize people they didn't like, and they even tempted me with my favorite food...oranges."
Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Beastie loves citrus fruit."
"I sure do," said the slimy creature. "One of the people they'd get me to attack often was Severus Snape. In case you didn't know this already, your father wanted to make life a living Hell for that miserable fellow." Beastie smiled again. "Severus has multitudes of battle scars from encounters with me. However, he'd give me oranges too...so he's not the only person I've bitten more than once."
Cassandra pulled an orange out of one of her pockets and said, "Beastie?" very sweetly. She dangled the juicy fruit in front of the monster's face, making him drool. "Can I ask you to do me a little favor?"
"Sure!" said Beastie cheerfully. "Name it, and I'll do it for the orange!" He was hopping up and down energetically, trying to swipe the fresh fruit from Cassandra's hand.
Cassandra beamed as she handed Beastie the orange. "Okay, it's not much, Beastie, but promise me that you and I will stay friends?"
"You got it, Miss Snape!" said Beastie. "Friends until one of us bites the dust!"
Cassandra looked quite pleased with herself as the toilet monster gobbled up the fruit with absolute delight. "Glad to see you enjoyed my present."
"Enjoyed is an understatement, my friend," said Beastie. He then let out a little belch and faced Harry. "So, tell me, Harry...were you really kicked off the Gryffindor Quidditch team last year? Did Ginny Weasley do a sufficient job as the replacement Seeker?"
"Yeah," said Harry. "Dolores Umbridge knocked me out of Quidditch last year, but Ginny did a really good job." He then added, "My friend, Ron, is Keeper and he's going to be a sensation this year once Quidditch season begins."
"That's strange," muttered Beastie in his funny little voice. His slimy chin was resting on one of his webbed hands. "Didn't Lucinda give you a new broomstick and ask you to help the Hawkbane Quidditch team come to a grand and victorious beginning?"
"Who?" asked Harry. Who's Lucinda?
"Lucinda Snitchgrass, your Hawkbane," Beastie said in a bored tone. "She's in charge of starting up the Hawkbane team. Of course, the Hawkbane's star students get first choice of position. If you want to be Seeker for a Hogwarts Quidditch team, or play Quidditch at all, I suggest you run over to Turret Twelve as soon as you get the chance...say, after dinner?" Beastie bared his teeth again in a teasing manner. "Start heading toward the Great Hall, students. Your dinner awaits you."
"You can't tell us what to do," Josh said shakily. Harry turned around to see that his Hufflepuff friend was trembling, probably afraid of the pint-sized monster standing before him, waving. "You don't know when that bell's going to ring!"
Beastie beamed and held up a long, webbed finger. Ring! He folded his slippery arms and said, "Oh yeah, Aussie boy? Just exactly how long do you think I've been occupying the bathroom fixtures here, anyway? Tell me, I'm dying to know." He then faced the students and said, "By the way, I'm getting hungry, too. I hope nobody minds if I sit down and eat alongside you fine students."
"Oh, that's okay!" said Celia. "You're so cute, you can sit in my lap, Beastie! Please, let me get a towel first. Sorry, little guy, but I just don't want you dripping dirty toilet water on me..."
