Chapter 12

The Patronus

KIARA

I knew that Sian had meant well, but that didn't stop me from being angry with her. I had been the owner of the best broom in the world for a few short hours, and because of her meddling, I was worried that I would never see it again. I was positive that there was nothing wrong with the Firecracker, but I couldn't stop thinking about what state it would be in once it had been subjected to all sorts of anti-jinx tests (oh, and just so all of you know, I decided not to tell my grandmother Sarabi what I had overheard at the Flying Owls about the Pride-Landers; not only because I wanted to avoid the telling-off which I was bound to receive in a letter, but also because I didn't want her to get mixed up in the angry thoughts that were going through my head at the time, because I knew that she would be upset. So there!).

Chris and Chrissie were furious with Sian, too. As far as they were concerned, the stripping-down of a brand-new Firecracker was nothing less than criminal damage. Sian, who remained convinced that she had acted for the best, started avoiding the common room. Chris, Chrissie and I supposed that she had either taken refuge in the library, or was otherwise with her mother, and we didn't try to persuade her to come back. All in all, we were glad when the rest of the school returned shortly after New Year, and Lion-Heart Tower became crowded and noisy again.

On the night before term started, Cane sought me out.

"Had a good Christmas?" she said, and then, without waiting for an answer, she sat down, lowered her voice and said, "I've been doing some thinking over Christmas, Kiara. After the last match, you know. If the Stingers come to the next one ... I mean ... we can't afford you to - well -"

Cane broke off, looking awkward.

"I'm working on it," I said quickly. "Professor Meers said he'd train me to ward the Stingers off. We should be starting this week; he said he'd have time after Christmas."

"Ah," said Cane, her expression clearing. "Well, in that case - I really didn't want to lose you as Seeker, Kiara. And have you ordered a new broom yet?"

"No," I said.

"What! You'd better get a move on, you know - you can't ride that Shooting Star against Raven-Wings!"

"She got given a Firecracker for Christmas," said Chris.

"A Firecracker? No! Seriously? A - a real Firecracker?"

"Don't get excited, Olivia," I said gloomily. "I haven't got it anymore. It was confiscated." And I explained all about how the Firecracker was being checked for jinxes.

"Jinxed? How could it be jinxed?"

"The Pride-Landers," I said wearily. "They're supposed to be after me, so Darbus reckons they might have sent it."

Waving aside the information that two famous murderers were after her Seeker, Cane said, "But the Pride-Landers couldn't have bought a Firecracker! They're on the run! The whole country's on the lookout for them! How could they just walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies and buy a broomstick?"

"I know," I said, "but Darbus still wants to strip it down -"

Cane went pale.

"I'll go and talk to her, Kiara," she promised. "I'll make her see reason ... a Firecracker ... a real Firecracker, on our team ... she wants Lion-Heart to win as much as we do ... I'll make her see reason ... a Firecracker ...

0000

Lessons started again the next day. The last thing any of us felt like doing was spending two hours in the grounds on a raw January morning, but Mina had provided a bonfire full of salamanders for our enjoyment, and we spent an unusually good lesson collecting dry wood and leaves to keep the fire blazing, while the flame-loving lizards scampered up and down the crumbling white-hot logs. The first Divination lesson of the new term was much less fun; Professor Crystals was teaching us palmistry, and he lost no time informing me that I had the shortest life-lines he had ever seen.

It was Defence Against the Dark Arts that I was keen to get to; after my conversation with Cane, I wanted to get my first Anti-Stinger lessons started as soon as possible.

"Ah, yes," said Meers, when I had reminded him of his promise at the end of class. "Let me see ... how about eight o'clock on Thursday evening? The History of Magic classroom should be large enough ... I'll have to think carefully about how we're going to do this ... we can't bring a real Stinger into the castle to practice on ..."

"Still looks ill, doesn't he?" said Chrissie, as she, Chris, and I walked down the corridor, heading to dinner. "What d'you reckon's the matter with him?"

There was a loud and impatient "tuh" from behind us. It was Sian, who had been sitting at the feet of a suit of armour, re-packing her bag, which was so full of books that it wouldn't close.

"What are you tutting at us for?" said Chris irritably.

"Nothing," said Sian loftily, heaving her bag back over her shoulder.

"Yes, you were," said Chrissie. "I said I wonder what's wrong with Meers, and you -"

"Well, isn't it obvious?" said Sian, with an air of maddening superiority.

"If you don't want to tell us, then don't," said Chris.

"Fine," said Sian haughtily, and she marched off.

"She doesn't know," said Chris, staring resentfully after Sian. "She's just trying to get us to talk to her again." But as it turned out, Sian did know. But we'll get to that later.

0000

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, I left Lion-Heart Tower for the History of Magic classroom. It was dark and empty when I arrived, but I lit the lamps with my wand and had waited five minutes when Professor Meers showed up, carrying a large packing case, which he heaved onto Professor Yawn's desk.

"What's that?" I said.

"Another Boggart," said Meers, stripping off his cloak. "I've been combing the castle ever since Tuesday, and very luckily, I found this one lurking inside one of Mr Match's filing cabinets. It's the nearest we'll get to a real Stinger. The Boggart will turn into a Stinger when he sees you, so we'll be able to practice on him. I can store him in my office when we're not using him; there's a nice cupboard under my desk he'll like."

"OK," I said, trying to sound as though I wasn't apprehensive at all and was merely glad that Meers had found such a good substitute for a real Stinger.

"So ..." Professor Meers had taken out his own wand, and indicated that I should do the same. "The spell that I am going to try and teach you is highly advanced magic, Kiara - well beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. It is called the Patronus Charm."

"How does it work?" I said nervously.

"Well, when it works correctly, it conjures up a Patronus," said Meers, "which is a kind of Anti-Stinger - a guardian which acts as a shield between you and the Stinger."

I had a sudden vision of myself crouching behind a Mina-sized figure holding a large club. Professor Meers continued, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the Stinger feeds upon - hope, happiness, the desire to survive - but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the Stingers can't hurt it. But I must warn you, Kiara, that the charm might be too advanced for you. Many qualified wizards have difficulty with it."

"What does a Patronus look like?" I asked curiously.

"Each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it."

"And how do you conjure it?"

"With an incantation, which will only work if you are concentrating, with all your might, on a single, very happy memory."

I cast about for a happy memory. Certainly, nothing that happened whenever I was with the Smiths was going to do. Finally, I settled for the moment when I had first ridden a broomstick.

"Right," I said, trying to recall as exactly as possible the wonderful, soaring sensation in my stomach.

"The incantation is this -" Meers cleared his throat, "expecto patronum!"

"Expecto patronum," I repeated under my breath, "expecto patronum."

"Concentrating hard on your happy memory?"

"Oh - yeah -" I said, quickly forcing my thoughts back to that first broom ride. Expecto patron - no, patronum - sorry - expecto patronum, expecto patronum -"

Something whooshed suddenly out of my wand; it looked like a wisp of silvery gas.

"Did you see that?" I said excitedly. "Something happened."

"Very good," said Meers, smiling. "Right then - ready to try it on a Stinger?"

"Yes," I said, gripping my wand very tightly, and moving into the middle of the deserted classroom. I tried to keep my mind on flying, but something else kept intruding ... any second now, I was going to hear my father again ... but I shouldn't think that, or I would hear him again, and I didn't want to ... or did I?

Meers grasped the lid of the packing case and pulled.

A Stinger rose suddenly from the box, its hooded face turned towards me, its giant, never-blinking, blood-red eye fastened upon me, one glistening, scabbed hand gripping its cloak, as its wings made a deadly eerie, droning, buzzing noise. The lamps around the classroom flickered and went out. The Stinger stepped from the box and started to sweep silently towards me, drawing a deep, rattling breath, which went well with the buzzing. A wave of piercing cold broke over me -

"Expecto patronum!" I yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto -"

But the classroom and the Stinger were dissolving ... I was falling through thick, white fog, and my father's voice was louder than ever, echoing inside my head - "No, Kiara, no! I can't believe this has happened to you, my baby girl!"

"Kiara!"

I jerked back to life. I was lying flat on my back on the floor. The classroom lamps were alight again. I didn't have to ask what had happened.

"Sorry," I muttered, sitting up and feeling a cold sweat running down my cheeks.

"Are you all right?" said Meers.

"Yes ..." I pulled myself up on one of the desks and leant against it.

"Here -" Meers handed me a Chocolate Cauldron. "Eat this before we try again. I didn't expect you to do it the first time. In fact, I would have been astounded if you had."

"It's getting worse," I said, taking a bite out of the cauldron. "I could hear him louder that time -"

Meers looked paler than usual.

"Kiara, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand -"

"I do!" I said fiercely, stuffing the Cauldron into my mouth. "I've got to! What if the Stingers turn up at our next match against Raven-Wings? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game, we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

"All right then ..." said Meers. "You might want to think of another memory, a happy memory, I mean, to concentrate on ... that one doesn't seem to be strong enough ..."

I thought hard, and decided my feelings when Lion-Heart had won the House Championship in my second year had definitely qualified as happy. I gripped my wand tightly again, and took up my position in the middle of the classroom.

"Ready?" said Meers, gripping the box lid.

"Ready," I said, trying to fill my head with happy thoughts about Lion-Heart winning, and not about what was going to happen when the box opened.

"Go!" said Meers, pulling off the lid. The room went icily cold and dark once more. The Stinger glided forwards, drawing its rattly breath; one rotting hand was extending towards me -

"Expecto patronum!" I yelled. "Expecto patronum! Expecto pat -"

White fog obscured my senses ... big, blurred shapes were moving around me ... then came a woman's voice, shouting, panicking -

"Simba, this is terrible! Quickly, we must do something to save -"

"Kiara! Kiara ... wake up ..."

Meers was tapping me hard on the face. That time it took a minute for me to understand why I was lying on the floor.

"I heard my mum," I muttered. "That's the first time I've ever heard her - she was trying to tell my father that they should do something quickly to save me ..."

"You heard Nala?" said Meers, in a strange voice.

"Yeah ..." I said, whilst wiping my face dry. I looked up at him when it was dry and asked, trying to keep the accusating-tone out of my voice, "Why - you didn't know her, did you?"

"I - I did, as a matter of fact," said Meers. "We were friends at Dragon Mort. Listen, Kiara - perhaps we should leave it here for tonight. This charm is ridiculously advanced ... I shouldn't have suggested putting you through this ..."

"No!" I said. I got up again. "I'll have one more go! I'm not thinking of happy enough things, that's what it is ... hang on ..."

I racked my brains. A really, really happy memory ... one that I could turn into a good, strong Patronus ...

The moment when I had been given my letter telling me that I had been accepted at Dragon Mort, and that I was going to be trained at the same school my parents went to, and become a great person, just like my parents before me! If that wasn't a happy memory, I didn't know what was ... concentrating very hard on how I had felt when Grandmother Sarabi had given me the letter, I got to my feet and faced the packing case once more.

"Ready?" said Meers, who looked as though he was doing this against his better judgement. "Concentrating hard? All right - go!"

He pulled off the lid of the case for the third time, and the Stinger rose our of it; the room fell dark and cold -

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" I bellowed. "EXPECTO PATRONUM! EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The screaming inside my head started again - except that when it happened the third time, it sounded as though it was coming from a badly tuned radio. Softer and louder and softer again ... and I could still see the Stinger ... it had halted ... and then a huge, silver shadow came bursting out of the end of my wand, to hover between me and the Stinger, and even though my legs felt like water, I was still on my feet ... though for how much longer, I wasn't sure ...

"Riddikulus!" roared Meers, springing forwards.

There was a loud crack, and my cloudy Patronus vanished along with the Stinger; I sank into a chair, feeling as exhausted as if I'd just run a mile, my legs shaking. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Professor Meers forcing the Boggart back into the packing case with his wand; it had turned into a silvery orb once again.

"Excellent!" Meers said, striding over to where I sat. "Excellent, Kiara! That was definitely a start!"

"Can we have another go? Just one more go?"

"Not now," said Meers firmly. "You've had enough for one night. Here -"

He handed me a large bar of The Sugarshack's best chocolate.

"Eat the lot, or Matron'll be after my blood. Same time next week?"

"OK," I said. I took a bite of chocolate and watched Meers extinguishing the lamps that had rekindled with the disappearance of the Stinger. A thought then occurred to me.

"Professor Meers?" I said. "Did you know the Pride-Landers?"

Meers turned very quickly.

"What gave you that idea?" he said sharply.

"Nothing - I mean, I just knew you were friends at Dragon Mort."

Meers' face relaxed.

"Yes, I knew them," he said shortly. Or I thought I did. You'd better get off, Kiara, it's getting late."

I left the classroom, walking along the corridor and around a corner, then I took a detour behind a suit of armour and sank down on its plinth to finish my chocolate, wishing that I hadn't mentioned the Pride-Landers, as Meers was obviously not keen on the subject. Then my thoughts wandered back to my parents.

I felt drained and strangely empty, even though I was so full of chocolate. Terrible though it was to hear my parents' last moments replayed inside my head, those were the only times I had heard their voices since I was a child (not forgetting the times my father had spoke to me, both in my dreams and in his Animal Spirit form). But I'd never be able to produce a proper Patronus if I half-wanted to hear my parents again ...

"We're separated," I said. "We're separated, and hearing their voices won't make you see them again. You'd best get a grip on yourself if you want that Quidditch Cup."

I stood up, crammed the last bit of chocolate into my mouth and headed back to Lion-Heart Tower.

0000

Raven-Wings played Snake-Eyes a week after the start of term. Snake-Eyes won, though narrowly. According to Cane, this was good news for Lion-Heart, who would take second place if we beat Raven-Wings, too. She therefore increased the number of team practices to five a week. This meant that Meers' Anti-Stinger classes, which in themselves were more draining than six Quidditch practices, I had just one night a week to do all my homework. Even so, I wasn't showing the strain nearly enough as Sian, whose immense workload finally seemed to be getting to her. Every night, without fail, Sian was to be seen in a corner of the common room, several tables spread with books, Arithmancy charts, Rune dictionaries, diagrams of Muggles lifting heavy objects (we were studying how Muggles were coping to move stuff without magic, as well as learning about why Muggles use and need electricity and electrical goods) and file upon file of extensive notes; she barely spoke to anybody and snapped when she was interrupted. Chris also said that he overheard Beth and Kestrel saying that when they were gone somewhere (we didn't know where then), that Sian was struggling to keep her eyes open most times.

"How's she doing it?" Chrissie muttered to Chris and I one evening, as we sat finishing a nasty essayin undetectable potions for Triphorm. I looked up. Sian was barely visible behind a tottering pile of books.

"Doing what?"

"Getting to all her classes!" Chrissie said. "I heard her talking to Professor Vectress, that Study of Ancient Runes wizard, this morning. They were going on about yesterday's lesson, but Sian couldn't have been there, because she was with us in Care of Magical Creatures!"

Chris and I didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Sian's impossible timetable at that moment; we really needed to get on with Triphorm's essay. Two seconds later, however, we were interrupted again, only it was by Cane that time.

"Bad news, Kiara. I've just been to see Professor Darbus about the Firecracker. She - er - got a bit shirty with me. Told me I'd got my priorities wrong. Seemed to think I cared more about winning the Cup than I do about you staying alive. Just because I told her that I didn't care if it threw you off, just as long as you caught the Snitch on it first." Cane shook her head in disbelief. "Honestly, the way she was yelling at me ... you'd have thought I'd said something terrible. Then I asked her how much longer she was going to keep it ..." She screwed up her face and imitated Professor Darbus' severe voice. ""As long as necessary, Cane". I reckon it's time you ordered yourself a new broom, Kiara. There's an order form at the back of Which Broomstick ... you could get a Scoot-Zoomer Two Thousand and One, like Malty's got."

"I'm not buying anything Malty thinks is good," I said flatly.

0000

January faded imperceptibly into February, with no change in the bitterly cold weather. The match against Raven-Wings was drawing nearer and nearer, but I hadn't ordered a new broom. I was asking Professor Darbus for news of the Firecracker after every Transfiguration lesson, Chris and Chrissie standing hopefully at my shoulder, as Sian rushed past with her face averted.

"No, Pride-Lander, you can't have it back yet," Professor Darbus told me the twelfth time this happened, before I'd even opened my mouth. "We've checked for most of the usual curses, but Professor Winds believes the broom might be carrying a Hurling Hex. I shall tell you once we've finished checking it. Now, please stop badgering me."

To make matters even worse, my Anti-Stinger lessons were not going as nearly as well as I had hoped. Several sessions on, I was able to produce an indistinct, silvery shadow every time the Boggart-Stinger approached me, but my Patronus was too feeble to drive the Stinger away. All it did was hover, like a semi-transparent cloud, draining me of energy as I fought to keep it there. I felt angry with myself, guilty about my desire to hear my parents' voices again.

"You're expecting too much of yourself," said Professor Meers sternly, in our fourth week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old witch, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"

"I thought a Patronus would - charge the Stingers down or something," I said dispiritedly. "Make them disappear -"

"The true Patronus does that," said Meers. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the Stingers put in an appearance at your next Quidditch match, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back to the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," I said.

"I have complete confidence in you," said Meers, smiling. "Here - you've earned a drink. Something from the Flying Owls, you won't have tried it before -"

He pulled two bottles out of his briefcase.

"Butterbeer!" I said without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Meers raised an eyebrow.

"Oh - Chris, Sian and Chrissie brought me some back from Dragsmede," I lied quickly.

"I see," said Meers, though he still looked slightly suspicious. "Well - let's drink to a Lion-Heart victory against Raven-Wings! Not that I'm supposed to take sides as a teacher ..." he added hastily.

We drank the Butterbeer in silence, until I voiced something that, up until then, I had been wondering for a while.

"What's under a Stinger's hood?"

Professor Meers lowered his bottle thoughtfully.

"Hmmm ... well, the only people who really know are in no condition to tell us. You see, the Stinger lowers its hood to use its penultimate and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Stinger's Suck," said Meers, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what Stinger's do to those they wish to destroy utterly. I suppose there must be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and - and suck out their soul."

I accidentally spat out a bit of Butterbeer.

"What - they kill -?"

"Oh, not that fast, no," said Meers. "That's their second weapon, but what they do first is something far worse than death. You see, you can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and your heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no ... anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone ... forever. That's what the Dementors (the former guards of Azkaban( did, but the Stingers have took it up a level. You see, those spines on their backs aren't there for display, oh no. You see, the Stingers aren't truly satisfied with just sucking out a person's soul. They would rather have the job finished completely. So, after the Stinger has done its job by sucking out a person's soul, they turn on their tale, and a few poisonous bullets burst out of those spines, and kill their victim instantly."

Meers drank a little more Butterbeer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits the Pride-Landers. It was in the Squabbler this morning. The Ministry have given the Stingers permission to use it if they find them."

I sat stunned for a moment at the idea of someone having their soul sucked out through their mouth. But then I thought of the Pride-Landers.

"They deserve it," I said suddenly.

"You think so?" said Meers lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," I said defiantly. "For ... for some things ..."

I would have liked to have told Meers about the conversation I'd overheard about the Pride-Landers in the Flying Owls, about the Pride-Landers betraying us, but it would have involved revealing that I'd gone to Dragsmede without permission, and I knew that Meers wouldn't have been impressed by that, so I just finished my Butterbeer, thanked Meers, and left the History of Magic classroom.

I half wished that I hadn't asked what was under a Stinger's hood, for the answer had been so horrible, and I was so lost in unpleasant thoughts of what it would feel like to have my soul sucked out of my mouth, that I walked headlong into Professor Darbus halfway up the stairs.

"Do watch where you're going, Pride-Lander!"

"Sorry, Professor -"

"I've just been looking for you in the Lion-Heart common room. Well, here it is. We've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all - you've got a very good friend somewhere, Pride-Lander ..."

My jaw dropped. She was holding out my Firecracker, and it looked as magnificent as ever.

"I can have it back?" I said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor Darbus, and she was actually smiling. "I daresay you'll need to get the feel of it before Saturday's match, won't you? And Pride-Lander - do try and win, won't you? Or we'll be out of the running for the eighth year in a row, as Professor Triphorm was kind enough to remind me only last night ..."

Speechless, I carried the Firecracker back upstairs towards Lion-Heart Tower. As I turned a corner, I saw Chris and Chrissie dashing down towards me, both grinning from ear to ear.

"She gave it to you? Excellent! Listen, can Chrissie and I have a go on it? Tomorrow?" said Chris.

"Yeah ... anything ..." I said, my heart lighter than it had been in the time that my Firecracker was taken away from me. "You know what - we should make it up with Sian. She was only trying to help ..."

"Yeah, all right," said Chrissie. "She's in the common room - working, for a change."

We turned the corner into Lion-Heart Tower and saw Nikita Bore, pleading with Knightress, who seemed to be denying her entrance.

"I wrote them down," Nikita was saying tearfully, "but I must have dropped them somewhere!"

"A likely tale!" roared Knightress. Then, spotting Chris, Chrissie and I, "Good evening, gentleman and fair maidens! Come clap this loon in irons, she is trying to force entry to the chambers within!"

"Oh, shut up," said Chris, as he, Chrissie and I drew level with Nikita.

"I've lost the passwords!" Nikita told us miserably. "I made her tell me what passwords she was going to use this week, because she keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Oddsbodikins!" I said to Knightress, who looked extrememly disappointed and reluctantly swung forwards to admit us into the common room. There was a sudden, excited murmur as every head in there turned and next moment, I was surrounded by people exclaiming over my Firecracker.

"Where'd you get it, Kiara?"

"Will you let me have a go?"

"Have you ridden it yet, Kiara?"

"Raven-Wings'll have no chance, they're all on Cleansweep Sevens!"

"Can I just hold it, Kiara?"

After ten minutes or so, during which the Firecracker was passed around and admired from every angle, the crowd dispersed and Chris, Chrissie and I had a clear view of Sian, the only person who hadn't rushed over to see us, who was bent over her work, and was carefully avoiding her eyes. It was only when we approached her table that she looked up.

"I got it back!" I said, grinning at her and holding up the Firecracker.

"See, Sian? There wasn't anything wrong with it!"

"Well - there might have been!" said Sian. "At least you know now that it's safe!"

"Yeah, I suppose so," I said. "I'd better put it upstairs -"

"I'll take it!" said Chrissie eagerly. "I've got to give Felix her food, as well as mix in some Vitamin Drops in there, too!"

"Oh, and that reminds me," said Chris, jumping up as Chrissie stood up with the Firecracker in her hands. "Claws needs to be given his Rat Tonic."

And so they walked up the stairs to the dormitories, with Chrissie holding the Firecracker as though it were made of glass.

"Can I sit down, then?" I asked Sian.

"I suppose so," said Sian, moving a great pile of parchment off her chair.

I looked around at the cluttered table, at the long Arithmancy essay on which the ink was still glistening, at the even longer Muggle Studies essay that we had been given ("Explain why Muggles Need Electricity") and at the Rune translation Sian was poring over.

"How are you getting through all this stuff?" I asked her.

"Oh, well - you know - working hard," said Sian, I remember that when I saw her that close at that moment, that she looked almost as tired as Meers.

"Why don't you just dropped a couple of subjects?" I asked, watching her lifting books as she searched for her Rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Sian, looking scandalised.

"Ancient Runes looks complicated," I said, picking up a Rune dictionary, and looking at the strange shapes.

"Oh, no, it's wonderful!" said Sian earnestly. "It's my favourite subject! It's -"

But exactly what was wonderful about Ancient Runes, I never found out. At that precise moment, two strangled yells echoed down the dormitories' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, as we all stared, petrified, at the entrance. there came two pairs of hurried footsteps, growing louder and louder - and then Chris came leaping into view, with Chrissie bringing up the rear, both carrying a bedsheet each.

"LOOK!" Chris bellowed, as he and Chrissie strolled over to Sian's table. "LOOK!" he yelled, he and Chrissie both trying to get Sian to look at their sheets.

"Chris, Chrissie, what -?"

"CLAWS! LOOK! CLAWS!" yelled Chris.

"NEVER MIND CLAWS!" Chrissie shouted. "LOOK WHAT'S HAPPENED TO FELIX!"

Sian leaned away from Chris and Chrissie, looking utterly bewildered. I looked down at the sheets they were holding. There was grey fur on one, and a bit of white and black on the other. But there were two things that the sheets had in common; the first thing was that there was something red on both of them. Something that looked unmistakeably like -

"BLOOD!" Chris yelled into the stunned silence. "THEY'VE GONE! OUR PETS HAVE GONE! AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT WAs ON THE FLOOR IN BOTH OF OUR DORMITORIES?"

"N-no," said Sian, in a trembling voice.

Chrissie threw something down onto Sian's Rune translation. Sian and I leant forwards. Lying on top of the weird, spiky shapes were several long, pure black cat hairs.

And as for the whether we won or lost the match against Raven-Wings? Well, you'll just have to find out in the next chapter, won't you?