N/A: Hi, everyone! I wanna thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter. I hope you are enjoying Athena's fifth year at Hogwarts. If you have any comments, critiques or concerns, feel free to contact me.
Chapter Eight - The Man with the Dragon Egg
Somewhere weakness is our strength, and I'll die searching for it
I can't let myself regret, such selfishness
My pain and all the trouble caused, no matter how long
I believe that there's hope*
One could say that having a curse ravaging a school is bad enough. However, when it comes to Hogwarts, things can always become more and more difficult. Even with hell breaking through, life must continue. Despite all the turmoil, Penny's despair, Beatrice being trapped inside a portrait and the end of these curses far on the horizon, we still had to return to our regular activities. Even after panic exploded when all the students found out about the new curse.
Rowan and Charlie – being Prefects and having increasingly more important parts during the tribulations – had to return to their rounds and take extra care of the first-year students. Bill had to leave all his worries aside because, as Head Boy, it was his new job to observe every portrait in the castle to make sure no other student was trapped inside the paintings. And I had to continue attending detention and the choir practices while still finding time to investigate Rakepick, study to maintain my impeccable record, help Penny, snog my boyfriend and find time for Quidditch.
I knew this year wouldn't be easy…
I book the Quidditch trials for September 14th. The day is clear and still quite warm, which makes the whole scenery perfect to find two new chasers and one new beater. I join Andre, Liam and Link on the pitch after a particularly relaxing Potions lecture, with my Silver Arrow in hand. The boys look extremely eager to win this year's Cup, despite the curse that is threatening to trap us all inside magic portraits.
"You sure have your priorities, boys," I say, smiling at them. "Which is good. We'll need all the focus and determination possible to endure this year's issues."
There are twelve Ravenclaws standing in the centre of the pitch, waiting anxiously while I talk to the boys. The majority are girls, which makes me wonder if I'll cease to be the only girl in our team. They're looking at each other with friendly smiles but burning fire in their eyes. And that fire looks exactly like what we're needing.
"Andre, as our beater, you'll be the one inspecting Sebastian, Drew and Stella's performances," I tell him. "Link and Liam, you'll analyse Penelope, Vicky, Sky and Sophie. We need to gather the best team possible to kick the other houses' arses this year. Do you understand?"
"Aye, Captain!" Andre shouts.
I smile, amused. "As I've mentioned previously in the letters I sent you during the summer, we'll be doing some thigs differently this year. Just in case, we'll have deputies. From the eight who don't make it as the three main players, we'll choose an extra chaser, beater, keeper and seeker. Okay?"
"Aye, Captain!" Andre repeats, opening a big smile.
I roll my eyes, smirking. "Let's do this."
After such stressful days, it is refreshing to finally climb on my broom and fly across the skies. Flying on a broom and flying as an owl bring me different feelings, but the broom allows me to do things I can't do in the shape of a bird. In addition, flying on a broom isn't illegal… so it makes me feel calmer and freer.
I watch Link release the Quaffle and the two Bludgers, and then take his place around the goal hoops. Gina Clark and Elijah Philips, both second year students, take turns around the other side's hoops, in the hopes of becoming Link's deputy.
I reach for the Golden Snitch, that is excitedly trembling inside my closed pocket, and release it to the sunny air. It flies away, happy to be free, and I follow the golden gleam until it can no longer be spotted amidst the blueness of the sky. Caitlin Adams – a third year -, Blair Balkan – a second year -, and I, case the Snitch around the pitch. We release it every time it's caught, and I take notes on my mind about the girls' performances.
Caitlin is short and with small features; her nose is delicate like a flower bud, and her mouth is so tiny that it looks that she's perpetually puckering up. Despite all her delicacy, she's swift and agile, and catches the Golden Snitch multiple times with her tiny hands. However, Blair seems to be better. She came to the field prepared to be the one chosen to take my place as a seeker if I'm ever unable to play. She has her dark hair tied in a tight bun and her eyes are wide and fierce as a hawk's. She's just a bit taller than Caitlin, but she's faster and astoundingly athletic. Though I enjoyed both their performances very much, my choice is pretty much done.
When we return to the ground – sweaty and tired –, they seem to already be expecting an answer. There are twelve pairs of glistening eyes staring at me, making me feel slightly uncomfortable and pressured. I take a deep breath, telling myself that I can be a good Captain, even if it makes me want to run away.
"Thank you all for coming today," I say. "Your performances were phenomenal and I'm proud of your abilities and hard work. It saddens me that it won't be possible to have all of you in our team this year. However, don't refrain for striving a position next year. Any of you would be an excellent acquisition to our team. That being said, we'll be pinning the results on the Great Hall bulletin board by the end of the week. I wish you all the best of luck."
Andre pulls a round of applause, which makes my cheeks blush and everyone to look at me with excitement. I'm anxious to know who they consider to be suited for our team and, also, for our practices to finally start. Merlin knows the adrenaline will help me deal with all the stress and suffering this year is yet to bring me.
Regardless of all the chaos unravelling, Rakepick doesn't present a single drop of preoccupation. On Friday, after pinning down the results of the Quidditch trials on the bulletin board, I walk with Rowan and Tulip to the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor. We find our seats in the back of the classroom, trying to stay as far from Merula and Ismelda as possible, and Barnaby sits with Liz on the desk next to us. Ever since we found Beatrice trapped inside the portrait, Barnaby seems to be carrying books about magical art everywhere. Not even Rakepick's imposing presence is threatening enough to make his eyes leave the pages he's reading.
"Morning, class," Rakepick says, and her face is serene as always, as if nothing is going on. "Today we'll be learning the Impediment Jinx. Can anyone tell me about it?"
Ismelda's hand raises towards the ceiling.
"Yes, Miss Murk."
"It is a jinx that hinders the movement of the victim, slowing it down or stopping it in its tracks," she says, confidently.
"Correct. Five points for Slytherin," Rakepick says. "I'm only concerned of your use of the word 'victim'. 'Target' is a better word, Miss Murk."
Rowan looks at me and her lips silently say the word "creep". Rakepick turns to the chalkboard to make the piece of chalk write the information Ismelda just mentioned and, while the words are being written, she makes more questions.
"Is this jinx effective against any opponent?"
This time, Liz raises her hand.
"Miss Tuttle."
"It is ineffective against Lethifolds," she says. "It's also ineffective against armoured opponents like Acromantulas and Blast-Ended Skrewts."
My lips curl in a smile, excited by her flawless answer. She entwines her long fingers and looks at Rakepick with a satisfied smile.
"Very good," Rakepick says. "Five more points for Slytherin. Now, though the Impediment Jinx is ineffective against armoured creatures, it can still affect them if used the correct way. If you are swift and have a sharp eye for targets, you can hit these creatures in the underbelly, where they are unprotected, and use the jinx to immobilise them."
I write down these information as Rakepick continues her lecture. She talks about the creatures Liz mentioned and tells a story about the time she duelled against one hundred Acromantulas. While she goes on with her story, I read more about the jinx on my Dark Arts book. Rowan, on the other side, opens her book about beasts and starts reading about Lethifolds. Her eyes widen with every word and she seems to be half terrified and half intrigued.
It comes as no surprise when Rakepick, after finishing her lecture, asks me to join Merula in the front of the classroom, to perform a demonstration of the Impediment Jinx.
Perform… As if it is a show of some sort.
Merula seems thrilled to duel me. Even though she has lost every single duel against me – at least the ones she didn't attack me behind my back -, she has the usual cocky smile on her lips and a fire in her eyes that seems to burn in every shade of violet. She raises her wand at me, and her smirk gets more pronounced.
"Impedimenta!" she shouts, excited, as a bold of turquoise flashes towards me.
"Protego!" I shield myself, watching her spell vanish in fading waves of sheer teal.
"Isn't she supposed to let me hit her?" Merula asks Rakepick, who simply smirks.
"I don't think Miss Lockhart would ever willingly allow you to strike her, Miss Snyde."
I aim my wand at Merula. Yes, we might be allegedly on the same side, but it doesn't mean I'll let her simply show up how awesome she thinks she is. I don't even try to portray an imposing figure – like Rakepick surely would -; I just stand there, firmly planted on the ground, with my arm bent and my wand pointed at her. The fact that I look so relaxed is what seems to make her ever more determined to hit me.
"Impedimenta!" she casts again and, this time, out of pure instinct, I don't even cast the shield.
I simply dodge it.
Her jaw clenches as she sees the turquoise spell hit the wall, vanishing right after. Standing near the chalkboard, Rakepick smirks. I'm beginning to feel slightly annoyed by this demonstration and, deep inside me, I wish my shield charm could reflect the Impediment Charm back to Merula's angry face.
"Impedimenta!" she shouts again.
"Protego!" I cast, and the shield that forms in front of me is so corporeal and strong that I can literally see it. Transparent, yes, but standing behind it, it seems like Merula is blurred.
The spell produces the effect that I wished for. The turquoise bolt hits the clear shield and, like a mirror, reflects it straight back towards Merula. She's hit on the chest and makes her lose balance. However, the spell prevents her from falling. She stops mid-air; her heels touch the ground, but the rest of her feet doesn't. Her body is in a dangerous angle, ready to fall as soon as the spell lose strength. I rush to hold her, and she falls heavily on my arms.
Rakepick claps, clearly impressed with our performance. Merula places her feet firmly on the ground and straightens her robes. She looks at me, half annoyed and half embarrassed, and returns to her seat next to Ismelda.
"Very impressive, girls," Rakepick says. "I think… twenty points for both houses for this great demonstration. Miss Lockhart, did you visualise this spell's effect on your mind?"
I nod.
"This is extremely important, class," she continues as I return to my seat. "The strength and the effect of any spell also depends on visualization. Different charms can do many things, and it's not enough to simply be strong or skilled or concentrated. Sometimes, being creative is paramount. Well done, Miss Lockhart."
I sigh, closing my book and putting it back inside my bag. Rakepick dismisses us – a smile still present on her reddish lips – and I leave the classroom with Rowan and Tulip, straight to a less arrogant lesson of Charms with our darling Professor Flitwick.
At nightfall, while Rowan does rounds and Tulip reads a book in her bed, I take a look at the objects I found inside the last Vault.
The sweater, small enough to fit Holly's slender figure – or is it big enough to fit a larger elf, like Pitts? -, is bright red and the cuffs, hemline and collar are green. It's soft to the touch but looks a little old and the cuffs look shabby. However, it still conserves the bright colour of when it was new, making me think that, whoever owns it, was probably very careful managing it. Was it a gift? An heirloom? A treasure? I bring it close to my face. It smells like lavender and lemongrass.
The portrait, that bears the aggressiveness of a dragon, makes me shiver inside. The huge beast looks at me with fiery eyes and smoke comes out from its snouts. I sigh, nervous, and return the sweater to the bottom of my trunk. The portrait, however, I place inside a book, with a remark to ask Charlie about it on the following day.
Everything surrounding the Cursed Vaults is like a puzzle. One thing that leads to another. One person that teaches a spell that ends up being useful. And Dumbledore… In the background, he seems to have us all tied in a string. He takes us through all this maze of turmoil in the hopes of us uncovering the truth. And in the end, I end up being punished because of it.
Hours later, when my roommates are all lost in their dreams and Rowan returns to the dorm, I find myself staring at the ceiling, picturing awful images in the dark and draped canvas. What if we never find out how to remove Beatrice from the portrait? What if, this time, we don't find the Vault? What if, in the end, I never get my brother back?
I bite my lip nervously and a wolf howls in the distance. A terrible shiver turns through my whole body as I wonder, frightfully, if this year will end badly.
There's a commotion next to the Great Hall's entrance when I get there with Talbott on the following morning. Charlie is talking excitedly to Bill, Barnaby and Liz, and seems to be exhaling happiness. His big smile creates dimples in his freckled cheeks, and it seems like he's containing himself not to hop around.
"Morning!" I say, walking to them. Talbott, as usual, just flashes them a kind smile.
"Did you hear, Athena!?" Charlie says, looking at me with sparkling eyes. "There's a dodgy wizard in Hogsmeade who's selling an egg!"
I blink. "I'm not sure I follow."
"Rumour is, it's a dragon egg!" he exclaims, happy.
I raise my brows. "Wow! Now I can see why you're so excited."
"I would love to meet this wizard and find out if the rumours are true," he adds.
"But Charlie," I say, hesitantly. "You know that buying and selling dragon eggs is illegal, don't you?"
He smiles. "I know."
I shrug. "Well, we're all going to Hogsmeade today. We could all go meet this mysterious wizard, then."
"Damn, Athena," Bill says, a little amused. "I was counting on you to get this idea out of Charlie's head."
I giggle. "As if a poor mortal like myself would be able to do such thing."
I look to my side. On the corner of Talbott's lip, there's a smile. It tells me that he's either amused by the conversation or extremely interested by the dragon egg. Maybe – and who knows – it's both.
Charlie's excitement can be heard from Ravenclaw's table, where I have a delightful breakfast of pancakes and syrup next to Talbott, Rowan and Tulip. He pours some tea in my cup and adds two sugar cubes. I smile, feeling the butterflies awakening just because he knows this detail about me. My cheeks blush when he runs his fingers through my hair and flashes a smile at me. Deep inside, I wish these feelings never fade.
At Hufflepuff's table, I notice that Penny's face, still very much dismayed, don't look so sorrowful. However, she finishes her meal faster than anyone on her table and leaves the room, followed by a very worried Barnaby. I think about the puzzle that I must solve to be able to free her sister, and my heart tightens with the thought of the time that it will take.
Once we finish our meals, we head to the railway station to enter the carriages. I go with Talbott, Tulip and Tonks, and, from the carriage behind us, I can hear that Charlie is still talking about the dragon egg. Rowan, sitting beside him, doesn't seem to be very excited about it. In fact, she seems a bit concerned.
The ride is smooth and quiet – apart from Charlie's chattering – and the sky is bright blue and cloudless. Talbott wraps his arm around me and places a warm kiss on my temple. In front of us, Tulip smirks mischievously. I feel my cheeks burning and try my best to ignore it, but it is very hard. So many things rush through my mind at once, that it's hard to manage them all.
The village is cheerful as always. The students take their much-needed trips to the book and stationary stores and other take not much needed trips to the candy and prank stores. Tulip and Tonks rush to Zonko's, whispering and giggling about a new fanged frisbee. I watch Charlie, Rowan, Bill and Liz walk to us. It doesn't feel strange to have Liz with us now, but it does feel strange to see Ben running towards us, after leaving the carriage that he was sharing with Merula and Ismelda.
His cheeks are bright red and though he doesn't seem truly scared, he looks very much disconcerted. He joins us in our crowd, and Rowan flashes him a somehow embarrassed gaze. Before she has the chance to say anything to him, Charlie speaks.
"Apparently, the mysterious wizard is spending some time here in the village. We just need to find him!"
"Charlie, this village is small, but not small enough for us to find a single person that could be literally anywhere," Bill says.
"Let's just ask around," Charlie replies.
"And won't anyone find strange that a bunch of teens are looking for an unknown man that is selling a dragon egg?" Talbott says, after a long time in silence.
"We don't need to say it's a dragon egg," Charlie says. "Just a regular egg…"
"'Cause buying eggs is so regular…" Rowan says.
"It is!" he says.
"At the grocery store," she adds. "Not at Hogsmeade."
"Okay, okay," I say, interrupting them. "We'll be spending the whole day here if we don't move. Let's go find this wizard."
We start by one of the first stores, which is an Ollivanders franchise. Run by Mr. Ollivander sister, Mrs. Gwendolyn, according to Liz.
"I had to buy a new wand last year," she says to us on our way there. "A Fire Crab bit a chunk of mine, so it got pretty unusable."
The store looks just like the one in Diagon Alley. It is narrow and gloomy, with two tall bay windows and a dark wooden door in between them. The bell rings when we enter and the woman behind the counter flashes us a warm smile.
She's tall and skinny like her brother but looks a bit younger. She's probably in her sixties and her clothes denounce sobriety and efficiency. Her hair is tied in a tight bun, but there are two thin braids that frame her oval face and meet at the back of her head. The lipstick she's wearing is of a brownish shade and her robes are charcoal, long and neat.
"Good morning," she says, and her voice is slightly husky. "How can I help you, kids?"
"Morning, Ma'am," Bill rushes to say. "I'm terribly sorry to bother you, but we've heard some rumours that there's a wizard in the village selling an egg. Do you happen to know where we can find him?"
Her face withers a little when she realizes we're not there to discuss anything wand related. "Oh. I'm sorry, dear, but I don't think I can help you. Several hawkers walk past this village every single day, but I'm afraid I haven't heard of anyone selling an egg."
I look at Charlie, whose face presents no dismay whatsoever. Rowan, on the other hand, looks a little bummed that we'll be spending our day on a hunt for a dragon egg seller.
Mrs. Ollivander continues. "I advise you to try Puddifoot's. Ginger always knows the fresh gossip, so she might help."
Charlie opens a smile. "Thank you, Ma'am. Thank you so much."
The woman opens a sweet smile as we leave and then proceeds to organize some files that are over the counter. Strangely, something inside of me tells me that we will meet again, but the feeling disappears as soon as I leave the store.
Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop is a few stores away, emphasized by its contrasting pink door and windows and greyish stone front. The window seats bear an immensity of stacked teacups and tea pots, that only by work of magic wouldn't fall or crack. There are also a few cake stands, bearing Victoria Sponge Cakes, pies and a few cinnamon rolls.
The inside smells of honey and Earl Grey. Madam Puddifoot – or Ginger, as Mrs. Ollivander called – is serving a few customers that are sitting in one corner. Her bluish eyes fall straight upon us as she opens a pinkish smile.
"Cake, dears?" she offers.
Rowan looks at me. "I'd like some cake."
"But… the dragon egg," Charlie complains.
Rowan flashes him a piercing stare. "Honey, if we're gonna spend the day searching for an egg, it better be after cake."
"Can't… can't it be afterwards?" he tries. "I promise you I'll get you the largest piece there is."
She looks away, pensive. "Yeah, I guess it will work."
As Charlie and Bill walk to Madam Puddifoot to ask her about the mysterious man, I see Rowan look at me and wink.
"You gotta learn how to bend them," she says, amused.
We wait while Charlie, Bill and the tea shop's owner exchange delighted a laughter. They talk for a few minutes and, when they turn to join us, Charlie has a joyful expression on his freckled face.
"We have a clue," he says. "She told us that the strange man has been seen frequently on The Three Broomsticks."
Rowan rolls her eyes. "Figures. A strange man doing illegal stuff… Probably drowning in Fire Whisky."
"We don't know that," Charlie says. "Anyway, let's go! I can't wait to meet this man."
We return to the beginning of the stoned street, where the pub is located. There are some enchanted sponges cleaning the windows and a broom is sweeping the door sill, and politely moves to the side to let us pass. Inside, Madam Rosmerta is talking to the Zonko's owner, who's drinking a pinkish liquid from a tiny glass and playing with his long, thin moustache. There's no one else inside the pub apart from them.
"I don't think he's here," Bill says.
The door opens and we turn to meet the shadiest man I have ever seen. He looks, to me, a lot like I pictured Gríma Wormtongue from Lord of the Rings. Tall, skinny, pale like the moon, with long and greasy faded black hair and dark circles so preeminent that shows the obvious lack of sleep. In addition to all his strangeness, is the fact that he's wearing a black and dark-grey outfit and didn't took the hood off his head.
"Must be him," Charlie says, excitedly.
"How do you know?" Bill asks.
"I think it's pretty obvious, Billy," Rowan says.
The man enters the pub and walks straight to a table on the corner. He hits down, staring intensely at this pale hands, until Madam Rosmerta comes to take his order. He speaks to her in a low, hissy tone, and she leaves to the bar, returning right after with a glass of Fire Whisky. Rowan flashes a condescending gaze at Charlie, but he ignores her. He walks straight to the man, and we follow him. For some reason, I find myself looking for my wand inside my jeans' pocket.
"I'm greatly sorry to disturb you, sir, but I've heard that you're selling an egg," Charlie says, straight to the point.
"Smooth, Charlie," Bill mocks. "Very smooth."
He man raises his eyes – black as the night – to meet Charlie's excited face. His thick eyebrows denote no emotion.
"I'm Alistair Fidgen," he says, gloomily. "Otherwise known as your new favourite person."
Charlie's smile broadens.
"Why, you ask?" the man continues. "Because I can get you an extremely rare dragon egg. For cheap."
Rowan leans toward my ear. "Sounds like a very rehearsed speech, don't you think?"
I nod.
"How did you get it?" I proceed to ask.
The man smiles. It's a soft, almost annoyed smile, that is barely a line across his ivory face. "Where there's a will, there's a way. Mine involves a MacFusty who owes me a favour."
"Did you say MacFusty?" Charlie asks, his voice showing all his excitedness. "They're the clan who raise Hebridean Black Dragons on the Hebrides islands!"
"Ah, so you know your stuff," Alistair says. "Then you must know how rare of an opportunity this is…"
"Can we see it?" I ask. "The egg?"
The man's eyes look straight into mine. Cold. Dark. Emotionless. "I'd love to show you, but it's very risky to bring something as valuable as that out in public. I'll need some assurance that you're good for the money first."
"How much do you want for it?" Charlie asks.
"Normally, I'd accept no less than six hundred galleons. But I like you kids, so it's yours for only five hundred."
Charlie gasps. "Five hundred?"
"It sounds awfully like a scam," I say, distrustful.
"You are obviously a discerning buyer," Alistair says. "What is your name, if I may ask?"
I swallow hard before answering. "Athena Lockhart."
His eyebrows raise. "Like Jacob Lockhart? Haven't seen him in years. A real shame. I liked that kid."
In just one second, the man managed to unhinge my calm heart. The sound of my brother's name is enough to set fire to my mind and incite my curiosity.
"You knew my brother?"
"I make it my business to get to know everyone who visits Knockturn Alley, but he and I talked particularly often," he tells me. "Until he went missing, that is."
"Why would Jacob hang around Knockturn Alley with you?" Rowan inquires.
Alistair doesn't look at her. "Tell you that. For four hundred and ninety-five galleons, I'll give you the dragon egg and I'll tell you everything I know about your brother. Deal?"
I clench my jaw. "How do I know you won't just lie or tell me gossip from the Daily Prophet?"
He smirks. "You don't. I'd love to give you the information for free, but I've got a family to feed, you understand."
I look at Rowan, who shakes her head at me.
"Do you really want to waste this opportunity? After all, I was one of the last people to see Jacob before he vanished."
I feel my hands closing into fists. "Fine. You have a deal."
Alistair opens a large smile full of yellow and slightly greyish teeth. Not a pretty or reliable smile in any way. "Excellent. Send me an owl when you have my money."
I turn around and, without acknowledging my friends, leave the pub. Something inside me feels off. I came to this place to help Charlie find a man and a dragon egg.
Instead, I found more trouble.
* Let the Flames Begin by Paramore.