The Querent Quest
Chapter 11: Quoth the Raven
Although the night was already cold enough so he had buried his hands in the inner lining of his cloak, Scorpius felt that his insides froze on the impact of those words. "You know that?"
"I know many more things, too," the centaur answered. "I know that you are the three lights themselves."
"The three lights?" Scorpius asked. He could not imagine a darker place in the world right now.
"The Star, the Sun and the Moon," the centaur said, stroking his pale beard. "It's in your past, present and future, in blood and name and dream."
"What is your name?" Scorpius asked, seizing on a piece of sanity. Perhaps he was dreaming. All of this was a dream. Rose never suggested going to the Forest because he fell asleep waiting.
"I am Firenze," he replied, bending one knee. "I once taught at Hogwarts, during the years Mars's power was at his greatest in recent years. I remember one of the rules they had for students was that they should not be in our Forest alone at night."
"I wasn't alone, my friends were trying to scry, and I saw a bird flying away and then, I heard it." Scorpius gulped, fear flooding through him. "I heard a banshee wail."
Firenze was silent for a moment. "So you ran, in fear of the future."
"I ran because I was going after the bird," Scorpius scowled. "And then I stopped here when I heard the banshee."
"You are not lost," Firenze said, his head nodding. Scorpius nodded too, but it seemed more important than that. There was a double-meaning here, when talking to a centaur. "You lost sight of the way, but you are not lost. Do you know where you are?"
"In…in the Forest somewhere."
"You know where you are," Firenze interrupted. "You don't know where it is you are going."
There was barking in the distance. And then shouting. A light finally made it past the trees and a few figures were in shadow behind it, calling out his name. "Scorpius! Scorp! Scorpius, Scorpius!"
"If you ever need a light," Firenze said quietly as the figures made their way to him ("SCORPIUS!"). "The centaurs look to the stars."
Elora made it through first and she threw her arms around him, looking wane and relieved. A twig stuck out of her hair and poked his face.
"You're okay!" She cried out as Albus made it through and grabbed Scorpius's hand. Then Rose, holding on to a dog's leash. The dog was a huge black boarhound that leapt at Scorpius, sniffing and licking at his boots and the owner broke an elm to get into the clearing to him.
"What th' hell were yeh ruddy kids thinkin'?" Hagrid growled. "Midnight, on Hallowee' an' yeh lot go in there?"
"We are really sorry, Hagrid, but we didn't mean to go in that far or get lost," Rose said.
"I'm sorry too," Hagrid admitted, taking back Mopsy's leash and hefting the lantern over their heads. "I dunno it was yeh four…I saw kids sneakin' in and I told on yeh to Neville. I was on my way to find yeh when you three came back for help." Hagrid looked suitably ashamed, for all the gruffness in his voice. Elora made a small moaning noise. Scorpius winced at the sound of it; Albus awkwardly patted her back.
"Thanks for coming to find me, Hagrid," Scorpius said as he followed Hagrid back out.
Hagrid sighed and slapped his back. It felt more like a punch. "Don't mention it lad."
At the edge of the forest, wearing his knee-high leather boots for picking weeds out of bogs and still in his dress robes from the ball, was Professor Longbottom.
"Well," he said crossly. "I expected better from you three, considering how—Elora!" He spluttered, his face turning red for a moment as Elora hopped out of the forest between two trees. She stumbled to a stop, avoiding his eyes. "No, I don't even want to know the hows or the whys of this excursion," Professor Longbottom decided disprovingly. "Detention for Saturday. All day, starting at ten. What do you have there, Rose?"
Rose jumped and the book fell out of her hands. Professor Longbottom picked it up and studied it, checking the back flap before handing it back to her.
"You can serve it in the library, so you can return that book that I'm sure was the probable cause of all this mischief." He sighed. "And ten points from your houses for being out of bed after-hours."
.
"Well, I suppose you can put books away for me," Professor Dubvessa suggested serenely when faced with the four third years in detention. "Claudia can help you if you don't know where it is. There are an awful lot of books, a whole stack of them I found last weekend in the Ancient Ceremonies section" - (Rose blushed furiously) - "and once you're done, you may study until dinner. Oh, and detention policy states that I have to take your wands away."
Chastened, Scorpius added his to her pile, already regretting the loss of his wand. He had owned his since he was nine. His father had taken him straight out to Ollivander's once he started consciously doing magic. And then he grimaced as he looked at the large stack of books needing to be returned to their places.
Scorpius and Albus rolled up their shirt sleeves and each managed to heft a large stack of books; Scorpius turned his head sideways to help support the books with his cheek. The girls took books from them and found their proper places. Elora resorted to using a ladder to reach the higher shelves and once the pile of books shrunk to fitting under his chin, Albus would roll her along on top of the ladder.
Rose was just returning the book she had borrowed for their Halloween experiment as Scorpius stared longingly out the window. It was a rare and gorgeous November day; if he wasn't in detention, Scorpius was sure that he'd be outside…maybe flying.
"Scorpius Malfoy?" He heard and then the quick running of feet before he felt his shoulder being tapped. Scorpius managed to awkwardly turn without dropping the books or moving his head to see the little Dubvessa girl looking up at him, a braces-covered beam on her face. "I thought it was you! Are you taking out all those books?"
"I'm in detention, err…" He trailed off. Her name started with a C…Caroline?
"I'm Claudia," she reminded him helpfully. "Have you read any books lately? I re-read my collection of Edgar Allen Poe's poems last night, but I think I'll read something else today, like The Threepenny Opera."
"Claudia," Scorpius said, suddenly as he remembered. "Can you find me a book?"
"A book," she repeated, sounding pensive. "Fiction? Non-fiction? Epic? Romance? Historical, fantasy—"
"I need a, err, dream-divining book. Something that can explain what different things might mean," Scorpius specified. She nodded and ran off, darting between bookshelves and didn't re-appear for a few minutes, precisely as Rose came to collect more books.
"Found it!" She declared triumphantly, reaching up high to deposit the book on top of the others. Rose glanced at her and then took the book, reading the cover silently to herself.
"I thought maybe…it might explain that vision a little," Scorpius mumbled, embarrassed. Claudia simply stood there, still beaming and dressed in her black dress and stockings and boots, as Rose put the book back on top for him and nodded.
"Here, give them to me," she insisted, cupping her hands. "I'll hold them too, Elora can keep putting them back. You read it."
"But we're not done, and we're in detention," Scorpius protested. Claudia hopped up.
"I can help! I know where all the books go."
Rose smiled at the small girl and looked back at him. "See? She wants to help. She can help Elora and Elora will help me and I'll help you and you already helped us." Surrendering, Scorpius tilted the books in Rose's arms and removed the top book, heading towards a table to start examining it as Rose and Claudia hurried back to join Albus and Elora, chattering.
Scorpius studied the book: It was written by Inigo Imago and it was about dream interpretation…he let the book fall open and started to rifle through it. Under B, he found the subject Birds.
Are symbolic because of their abilities of flight. Represents higher thought, inspiration, transcending limitations. Different types of birds can further emphasize the qualities within you. An eagle suggests seeing what is hidden to others while more colorful birds like a peacock or parrot stands for self-expression, fearlessness in demonstrating your new-found abilities. On the downside, seeing a black bird, such as a crow or a raven, can mean a difficult transformation, trickery, sacrifice and like owls, can also mean death.
Scorpius dropped the book, but didn't bend down to fetch it right away. Death. Seeing a raven can mean death. Slowly, Scorpius picked the book back up and re-read the sentence. The banshee scream. The raven. He didn't even have to look up any other aspect of his vision. Someone was going to die.
.
"Mr. Malfoy? Where is your mind wandering off too?" Professor Jigger asked. Scorpius started and shook his head awake before realizing that he should be nodding his answer.
"How's your potion brewing then?"
"It's well…" Scorpius trailed off, glancing at the cauldron in question. It wasn't even remotely close to the correct color.
Elora glanced over too and winced before dipping her ladle in, out and letting the potion slide back into the cauldron. Her's was the exact shade of cherry red his ought to be. But Scorpius let his eyes flicker back to Professor Jigger and tried to focus.
"I'm sorry, Professor, but I thought that I saw something." He tried to say it as casually as possible. Beside him, Elora frowned but Jigger's mouth opened in a surprised "Oh" and nodded so quickly that it was practically a blur.
"I understand completely," She spluttered. "Naturally, you are feeling the effects, and are un-used to adjusting as of yet…why don't you go ahead and see Professor Trelawney. This potion can be made up at another time with Miss Selwyn."
"Brilliant, thank you," Scorpius said, grabbing his cauldron to wash it out by the gargoyle sink.
There was only a few minutes left of class, so Scorpius walked a few hallways before collapsing against the wall, sliding to the floor. That had been a complete lie; but why couldn't Seeing ever tell him when a teacher was going to call on him, or what the answer to a question was, or something useful? Granted, knowing that Griffin Thane's charm was going to cause his quill to explode yesterday was helpful and Scorpius had emerged the only ink-free student of the class, but he'd much prefer not having to depend on using his Seeing skills to get out of trouble when he could just avoid it all in the first place.
Hearing the sounds of the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors emerging from Potions was the only thing that got him moving again, heading down to the Great Hall before the rest of them got there and finding a seat at the Ravenclaw table.
Scorpius managed to blearily eat half of his shepherd's pie before he set his fork down. Rubbing his eyes, he allowed himself to stare aimlessly into space.
This newfound Seeing ability wasn't the reason for his lapses during class; it was the nights spent tossing and turning or simply sitting up in the Common Room, keeping as many lights on as possible and listening to the loudest, most obnoxious song in the world: Do the Hippogriff.
Scorpius would rather listen to the Weird Sisters at their worst then have visions of death or worst of all, see who would die and watch them die over and over again.
Beside him, a fourth year slapped down her copy of The Daily Prophet in disgust. "Rubbish!" she complained. "Kenmare Kestrals lost again! They've been losing every game ever since McCormack retired."
Scorpius glanced at the article in remote interest, just to see how the Tornados' competition was for the season when he saw another, small article on the back page.
"Can I see this?" He asked, reading the headline. Selwyn, convicted Death Eater dies. The fourth year didn't even look at him, she just nodded.
Mortimer Cain Selwyn, aged forty-eight, died October 26th of an old spell injury. He was sorted into Slytherin during his Hogwarts days and was convicted as a Death Eater under coercion of the Second Wizarding War (1995-1998); He was arrested after the Battle of Hogwarts and sentenced to six years in Azkaban. He is survived by his second wife, Pansy Selwyn nee' Parkinson, who is the editor of the Daily Prophet Society Sides and by his two daughters, Zaneeta and Amaryllis.
Scorpius didn't bother to read anymore of the obituary, disturbed by what he had read. To see somebody's life laid out so brutally like that, because he bore the Dark Mark, even if it was 'under coercion'. He noted sourly that the article in question hadn't mentioned his long career working for Gringotts or that he regularly donated to St. Mungos'…Poor Zaneeta, then. So that's why Jigger said they could make it up together; she must have been pulled out of classes for the funeral.
Scorpius had a very sudden mental impression of the first and only funeral he had ever gone too: his grandfather's, when he was seven years old. He didn't remember Lucius Malfoy much, as his grandfather had only been released from Azkaban when he was five, but he remembered even aged and worn, the resemblance between him and his father was quite a good likeness.
Scorpius stood then, swinging his leg over the bench and walking away from the Ravenclaw table. What if that happens? What if it really does happen, and we both—
"It's not going to happen," Scorpius told himself firmly aloud. "She's dead and we're both fine…"
Seeing a raven can mean death.
"Scorpius!" Elora hollered after him dodging between students to catch up. "Wait, what happened? Did you really—"
"Alohomora," he heard a girl's voice issue the spell from behind the door. His eyes opened wide and looked straight at Bellatrix Lestrange as the door opened. There was a scream, wide hazel eyes—
"I lied," Scorpius said quickly as her face scrunched in dislike.
"You could have remembered the ingredient that would have turned your potion cherry-red and used a sample of mine while it simmered."
"Elora, I wasn't completely lying," Scorpius admitted, cutting off her tirade. "I was seeing something…I saw the vision from Halloween again."
Her eyebrows pulled away now, as her face turned surprised. "I thought all you saw was a bird."
"A raven. I looked it up, and it means somebody I know is going to die, Elora," Scorpius said, his voice breaking with desperation. "And seconds later, something started screaming, and I think it might have been a banshee."
She bit her lip as they stopped in the middle of the hallway, Ancient Runes forgotten entirely.
"Who?" She asked, immediately.
"I don't know. I don't want to know." Scorpius managed to get past the lie lumping in his throat. "I'm scared that any moment now, I might have a vision of that person dying, or that if I fall asleep, I'll see their face." Or our murderer's face again.
Elora nodded. "Like me and that mirror from first year. It's all I ever thought about or wanted, but I was terrified too, because if I saw the mirror, I saw him. Voldemort's ghost."
"And that's when you started drinking Dreamless Draughts, to stop thinking about it and sleep—" Scorpius cut himself off with a gasp. "Dreamless Draught! Elora, you perfected making it, if you made me—"
"I almost DIED!" she snarled, causing Scorpius to jump backwards. In half a second, she had changed, from a frank and short girl, to an enraged, almost bestial one. Her hazel eyes flashed furiously, so different from the wide, terrified look she had in his vision during Herbology all those weeks ago. She stomped two steps closer to him, pushing him up against the wall. "I will not make anything of the sort like that again! And I won't let you make it either," she added almost as an afterthought.
"Elora, I'm sorry," Scorpius gasped, looking down at her. She huffed and stormed off down the hallway, leaving Scorpius to pick up his books, her bag and what was left of his dignity and follow after her.
"Who are you worried it will be?" Albus asked as they carried their homework on Transfiguration. Teddy—Professor Lupin, was just as cool as a teacher as he was a cousin, wearing beat-up muggle trainers under his formal teachers' wear, and changing the original lesson in their book from owls into opera glasses to owls into sunglasses. By lunch, the entire Slytherin/Ravenclaw third years had shown up in an array of sunglasses, from wide-rimmed to tinted.
Scorpius glanced at Albus in confusion. "Sorry?"
"Elora told me," he specified. "She was in such a snit during Charms that she turned the desk orange."
"I didn't mean to," Scorpius said.
"Mean to not tell us the whole vision?"
"The banshee scream was real. I didn't See that."
Albus turned to him, looking horrified. "You heard a banshee?"
Scorpius kept on walking down the hall and after a moment, Albus rejoined him.
"Scorpius…I know you're worried about your family."
"Really?"
"And your friends, too?"
"I haven't even considered the possibility of that, now thank you, Potter," Scorpius snapped, seething.
"Have you thought that maybe, the banshee's mourning for you then?"
Scorpius stopped cold, the books tumbling out of his arms. Albus caught him by the elbow.
"How would I die?" He asked softly, trying to shake off the fear like a cloak. But it was not so easily removable.
Albus shrugged, shaking his head. "I don't know…you don't know! Scorpius, how do we even know that you really heard a banshee? Maybe it was just as owl—"
"Both owls and ravens seen in visions mean death." Scorpius interrupted.
"Whose death?" Albus asked, his usual chipper mood long since faded.
Scorpius hesitated, then shook his head. "I haven't Seen anyone die yet. Just, let Elora be miserable if she wants." Because I won't be able to forgive myself if I only get us both killed.
Happy new chapter! Tomorrow's my birthday, do you think you could all review?
This chapter has been very long in coming to a computer screen near you. Unfortunately, due to severe computer problems I've been plagued with lately, my partial-hiatus continues.