'Well done, Maisy,' Starrett said happily, praising the Slytherin student's charm work whilst Bagsy watched ruefully, trying her best to cast a spell. It was the following Monday and Bagsy had done little besides practise her work. She'd pushed thoughts of the gauntlet, her matured stampelia, and Mezrielda's wish to become Minister for Magic, far from her mind. She didn't want to deal with them. All Bagsy wanted was to focus on her work and pass the coming exams, but thoughts of easily gaining magical talent through the gauntlet whilst hurting the closest thing to a friend she had were getting in her way. Bagsy was relying on the hope that Tod wouldn't be able to find the gauntlet before she had reached a decision.
'Miss Beetlehorn,' Starrett called suddenly and the class fell silent. They'd been practising the wand lighting charm and specks of light dotted the classroom from the seats sat furthest at the back, high above the others, to the ones nearest the central walkway, and lowest to the ground. Bagsy, sitting to the back right and on her own, was without any light of any kind, and looked at Professor Starrett, gulping. 'Come to the front of the class,' Starrett said, to the sound of hushed whispers. Starrett had taken to making a mockery of Bagsy every chance she got, accusing her of pretending to be bad at magic, and Bagsy suspected it was the highlight of some students' Mondays.
Legs made of jelly, Bagsy stood and walked down the steps to Professor Starrett who swept her skeletal arms out to the rest of the class.
'Observe and see what I mean when I tell you to put your heart and every ounce of effort you have into your spells.' Starrett spun around to look at every student before sweeping back to Bagsy's direction, her red and gold robes glinting in the small specks of light that flickered around the room and her heels clacking on the floor as she moved. 'Miss Beetlehorn show us your wand lighting charm.' Starrett paused, turning her wand over in her hand. 'If you're willing to co-operate, that is,' she added slyly.
Bagsy, hand shaking, raised her hornbeam wand, standing straight and mentally going over the wand movement. She'd spent the whole class listening closely, taking notes, and perfecting the movement and incantation.
'We don't have all day,' Starrett said, clasping her hands in front of her.
Bagsy took in a breath, standing in the perfect position, and began. 'Lumos!' she cast, precisely following the movements she'd been taught. Of course, nothing happened, and a spattering of snickers sounded throughout the class.
Professor Starrett smiled in satisfaction. 'Can anyone tell me what Miss Beetlehorn did wrong?' she asked, hands shooting into the air. 'Yes,' Starrett pointed her wand at a Gryffindor with red hair tied in a bun. Bagsy recognised her as Fiona, one of the Gryffindor's who'd been sending jinxes her way during Herbology in the first term.
'Her wand movement was really bad,' Fiona said. 'No offense.'
Starrett shook her head. 'Wrong.' She turned to the row of seats on her other side. 'Her wand movement was actually perfect. Yet she cast no spell…' Starrett scanned her eyes over the students, settling on the Slytherin girl she'd complimented earlier whose hand was still raised. 'Yes, Maisy?'
'Did she say the incantation wrong, maybe?' Maisy suggested.
Starrett shook her head again. 'Wrong, also! Her incantation was spot on.'
'But then…' Maisy trailed off. The question was on everyone's mind. If the incantation and the wand movement were perfect, what was Bagsy missing?
'Heart and effort,' Starrett proclaimed, walking past Bagsy as she began to pace. 'Bagsy here has no heart in her words, and no effort behind her casting. She is lazy, and inattentive, and expects spells to come to her, rather than going to spells herself. Or, even better put, for whatever reason she is simply choosing not to cast them. Perhaps she does not think us worthy of seeing her talents, or perhaps she wants to mislead us into thinking her weak.'
Bagsy felt tears prick her eyes and fought them down. It was so unfair. She put in three times the amount of effort and practise anyone else did, and yet she just couldn't do it.
'This entitlement, this stubborn decision to pretend she's incapable, is what stands in her way and makes her, well…' Starrett paused, laying a hand on Bagsy's hair and lifting a few strands up before letting them fall. 'Makes her a bit like someone without any magic at all, to be frank.'
'That's not it,' a voice called out and Starrett's gaze snapped onto the culprit. Mezrielda stood up at the back of the class. Bagsy hadn't seen her – Mezrielda had been sitting as far away from her as possible.
'Well, well, Miss Glint,' Starrett drawled, smiling sinisterly. 'What is it, then?'
'There is one big reason Bagsy is so bad at charms,' Mezrielda explained, crossing her arms and swishing her black hair to the side. Bagsy clenched her fists, the idea of taking the gauntlet for herself becoming progressively more tempting by the second
'Go on, then, indulge us.' Starrett was speaking through her teeth now.
'She has you for a teacher.'
The class was silent.
Bagsy looked at Mezrielda, a feeling bubbling up in her chest that she couldn't describe, feeling awful and wonderful all at once.
'Class dismissed,' Starrett said harshly. Students gathered their things slowly at first, confused by the early end of the class, before hurrying to get away from the explosion that was about to be Professor Starrett's temper. Mezrielda stayed where she was, staring Starrett straight down.
Bagsy turned to leave, too.
'Stay,' Starrett said icily and Bagsy did, head hung low.
Once it was just the three of them, Starrett flicked her wand. Mezrielda, with surprise on her face, found herself yanked by an invisible rope down to the bottom of the classroom and in front of Professor Starrett.
'You're lucky I'm as forgiving as I am, Miss Glint,' Starrett hissed, 'or you'd be on the next train home.' A vein was popping in Starrett's forehead. 'What do you have to say for yourself?' Mezrielda's brown eyes held Starrett's silently. 'Well?' Starrett prompted. Mezrielda remained quiet. 'Detention for a week, Miss Glint,' Starrett hissed. 'Get out of my sight.'
Mezrielda left calmly, her sleek hair swishing behind her.
Starret rounded on Bagsy. 'As for you, Miss Beetlehorn, I am most disappointed. I've given you enough chances already to stop this pitiful act of yours. I will be taking fifty points from Hufflepuff for your cheek.' Bagsy's face paled. Starret had taken more points than her achievement in herbology had gained her. She was sure that wasn't fair but knew better than to protest. 'If your Charms exam isn't absolutely perfect don't bother coming back to Hogwarts next year. Understood?' Bagsy nodded, stunned. She had a sinking feeling this would be her last year at Hogwarts anyway. 'Go,' Starrett hissed, stalking to the back of the classroom where her desk and the chalk board where. Bagsy scampered out of the classroom and ran all the way back to her room in the Hufflepuff dorm.
Bill and Jill, sensing her misery, snuggled next to her as Bagsy curled up in her bed. At least this time, for the first time in a while, when she went to sleep, her dream was peaceful. Whatever her imagination created to torment herself with was gone.
In Transfiguration the next day Professor Hilkins had assigned them with the task of changing paper into metal. Bagsy ignored his instructions, knowing it would be too difficult a task for her, and placed a small strand of twine on her desk. She spent the lesson frustratedly hissing the spell to transform the twine into thread. The other students were always noisy in Hilkins class, despite the timid professor's protests, and even as Bagsy's voice grew in volume it was hard to notice over the general clamour of excited children.
Bagsy's hands were shaking profusely by the end she was so exhaustedly distraught at her own incompetence. The other students were beginning to pack up but she hadn't stopped. Her face was red, her nose was blocked, and her voice was hoarse but she kept on going. She hissed the incantation over and over, flicking her wand forcefully at the twine, begging with some unseen force that it would work, refusing to give up.
'Miss Beetlehorn?' Hilkins said politely, laying an old, wrinkled hand on the desk. 'The lesson is over.'
'It can't be!' Bagsy yelled, squeezing her eyes shut. 'I haven't done the spell yet!' She turned to look up at Professor Hilkins, whose old face was grim with pity. 'Please…'
Hilkins opened his mouth. When he didn't say anything, and just stood silently, staring down at her as if she were an insect with a broken wing, doomed never to fly, she couldn't take it anymore. Hurriedly grabbing her things, she shoved them carelessly into her satchel, and rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind her.
'Hey!' the door protested but Bagsy ignored it.
It was personal study next but Bagsy wasn't headed for the library. She stopped at her room, throwing her satchel onto her bed with a cry of anger. She stomped her foot and threw her hornbeam wand across the room where it hit the wall and tumbled with a clatter below her bed.
Continuing to groan in frustration and stomp about, Bagsy collected her cloak and grabbed the matured stampelia from the window sill. It wasn't as cold outside as it had been mid-winter but Bagsy didn't want people to know she was taking her matured stampelia with her, so she needed her cloak to hide it beneath.
Bagsy left without her wand, it was no use to her anyways, and walked straight for the owlery. Owls fluttered above her head but Bagsy had no letter for them. Instead, she pulled the stampelia from her cloak and held it out, standing still, not sure what to do. 'Please…' she said to the matured stampelia. 'I don't know if you can understand me but… I'm looking for something…'
The plant was still.
Bagsy lowered her voice to a desperate whisper. 'I'm looking for a gauntlet. It's got to be here somewhere, hidden in the walls. It'll be the most important thing here. I have to find it…' The plant didn't change and Bagsy let out a sigh. 'That's okay – it's alright if you can't. It's a lot to ask of you when you've only been a plant like this for a short while.' She turned to leave, but when she did something happened; the plant began to wilt – its leaves shrivelling up and its stem turning brown. 'Oh no!' Bagsy gasped, holding the plant gently as she inspected it. 'Are you okay?' She turned the plant over in her palm. As she turned the plant only one side wilted and, as soon as that side was turned over, it grew back to normal. Her heart sped up. 'No way…' Bagsy breathed. She paid attention to what side the plant wilted on and walked in that direction. Soon, she was standing with her face to a wall of the owlery. 'Now what? Where is it, little gal?' she asked her plant, noticing only the top half of the matured stampelia was wilted now, whereas the base was fine. She craned her neck, looking to the top of the owlery. 'Up there?' she asked. The plant didn't move or say anything but Bagsy felt it was telling her yes.
Bagsy nodded and placed the stampelia under her arm before grabbing hold of the hollow in the wall the owls nested in, one of them hooting angrily at her, whilst another fluttered in her face, trying to peck at her eyes. Bagsy swatted them away and tried to ignore them, climbing up slowly and carefully.
The higher Bagsy got, the worse she felt. Her stomach was still back on the floor, and her head was in the clouds, and all she could think about was what would happen if she slipped.
At last, the matured stampelia changed. The wilting moved from the top of the plant to the middle, in line perfectly with one of the ordinary looking bricks.
Dumbly, Bagsy stared at the brick. 'Here?' she checked with the plant. As she moved the stampelia, its wilting changed, precisely outlining the one particular brick. Fixing her eyes on the brick, and finally paying it attention, Bagsy found, with a sudden wave of realisation, that the plant was correct. The brick was the gauntlet in disguise, she just knew it. There was something about it, when she looked at it, that pulled her gaze in an odd way. Her eyes were telling her that the gauntlet wasn't just hidden in the wall, but hidden as a part of the wall. How her eyes could tell her this, she had no idea, but she wasn't about the question it.
Bagsy let out a breath. She'd done it. She'd found the gauntlet. She almost couldn't believe it. Realising now wasn't the time to hesitate, she tucked the stampelia below her arm and fastened her feet into two nests below before digging her nails into the corners surrounding the brick. The owlery was old, and the mortar crumbled beneath her fingers. It took an age and Bagsy heard the bell for lunch chime before she was half-way done, but eventually the brick was loose enough for her to grip it.
Twisting it from side to side, she slowly dislodged the brick from the wall, but once it came loose it slipped from her hands and fell and Bagsy's heart fell with it.
'No!' she cried, watching it tumble to the floor. It landed with a thud and Bagsy winced. Slowly, she climbed back down, her arms and legs shaking from fear and effort, and landed with a huff amongst the straw, owl droppings and mice bones. She crouched next to the brick and saw it didn't have a single scratch on it.
'This has to be it…' Bagsy murmured, holding the stampelia over it. She moved the stampelia from side to side and, as it moved, the wilting shifted to point towards the brick. 'Thank you,' she whispered to her matured stampelia. 'I couldn't have done it without your help.' The stampelia went back to normal – the wilting disappearing – and Bagsy saw large, pink flowers bloom along it. She had a sad feeling it wouldn't be able to help her find something again.
Still, she was very grateful for its help.
Bagsy tucked the stampelia back into her cloak and picked the brick up gingerly. She allowed her cloak to fall over her shoulders and in front of her hands – hiding the brick from sight, that felt heavy in her palms. She hurried out of the owlery, heading straight for the Hufflepuff dormitory.
No one was in the common room when Bagsy reached it, so she ducked behind the armchair and ferns and into her room, quickly placed the matured stampelia, now blooming, on the window sill high above her head, and turned to leave.
She paused. If she wanted the gauntlet she'd need to transform the brick into it, but how on earth could she manage that? Bagsy looked at her hornbeam wand laying on the floor and knew it wouldn't help her. She felt a pulling at the back of her neck and looked at her trunk below her bed. Pulling it out and opening it, she laid her eyes on the plain walnut wand. Without hesitation she grabbed it, tucking it into her robes. It was the best hope she had, even if the hope was miniscule.
Bagsy opened the door to her room, about to leave, when a strange refraction of light, as if someone had been standing outside of the small, high up windows holding a mirror, hit something in the corner of the room. Bagsy turned and saw the draught of silver cleanse sitting judgingly on her work bench. Frozen, she looked back at it before, with a sigh of frustration, she grabbed the vial and put that in her robe's pocket, too.
Leaving the Hufflepuff common room Bagsy clasped the brick to her chest as she headed towards the spiral staircase. She thought she remembered where it was, yet it took her a few goes to find it. She must have taken countless wrong turns but, eventually, she was standing in front of the staircase, brick in hand and riddles in mind. The gauntlet was only a few steps away, just within her reach, the answer to all her problems. She could wish for power, wish for magic, and finally gain what she'd wanted all her life, and yet she couldn't do it. She didn't even want to try. Her heart was crying out for the ability to cast just one spell but another part of her saw Mezrielda crouched outside the greenhouse, countering jinxes sent her way. Another part of Bagsy saw Mezrielda and herself sitting in their nook in the library, chatting and scheming, or sometimes just doing homework in companionable silence. She saw Mezrielda stand up to Professor Starrett for her.
She couldn't do this. It was likely Bagsy was physically incapable of passing whatever test she had to retrieve the gauntlet, but she was certainshe couldn't betray Mezrielda like that, even if she were able. With a sigh, she turned to leave. It was still lunch time so perhaps she could find Mezrielda in the great hall.
Bagsy stopped abruptly in her tracks.
Tod was standing at the end of the corridor, looking at her.
In slow unison, their eyes both tracked down to land, incriminatingly, on the brick in her hands. Realisation spread across Tod's face.
Clearly, he understood just what the brick in her hands really was.