Chapter Twelve: Quidditch Again
"Guin! Guin!" Rilla whispered. It was a tumbled jumble of excited words that fell one after another from her mouth, as though she could not wait to spill them out. Rilla was attempting to be quiet, but again, her enthusiasm rose the murmur to a sort of sotto voce stage mutter. Running, she caught up with her taller friend and glanced at her. "I have to tell you something!" Dancing from foot to foot, she looked as though she was about to burst.
"What is it?" Guin asked knowingly. Rilla often had 'terribly important things' to tell, but they weren't always as high of a priority as she thought. This time, however, Guin was wrong.
"Remember on Halloween, when we saw that three-headed dog?"
"The Cerberus? How could I forget?"
"I found out what it's guarding."
"What?! How?"
"Well, you know how Harry, Hermione, and Ron are always talking?"
"They're friends, yeah."
"And you remember that night when Malfoy was bullying Neville? After you scared Malfoy off, Neville hopped all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, crying like. So I'm sitting on a chair with its back to them, and they don't know I'm there. But I'm listening, see, 'cos I'm curious. Harry gave Neville one of those chocolate frogs, but he didn't take the card. After Neville left, they read the card, and then Harry said, 'Dumbledore again. He was the first one I ever—' then he gasped and went on – 'I've found him! I've found Flamel!' Then he read the card, and then Hermione went running upstairs to get a book and – what they're hiding under the trapdoor is a Philosopher's Stone!" She took a deep breath. "Amazing! So I could hardly sleep 'cos I wanted to tell you."
Guin had been staring at her, rapt, throughout the recital. "Well, they've certainly got it well protected.. I suppose that no one could steal it, now – someone tried. In July. I read it in the Daily Prophet." They walked along the hallway to their abandoned classroom, Guin running a hand through her hair. "Good work, Ril. Guess it pays off to be small sometimes, eh?" They snickered at each other, and then slipped through the door into the classroom.
From her pocket, Rilla drew the stone she had found yesterday.
"I wonder if it's magical?" Rilla wondered, as they examined the stone she had found in the forest. It shimmered piercingly in the dim gas light of the chamber, the flickering blue flames on the walls picked up in the depths of the pebble. Both girls held their wands out, trying out different spells on the thing. Guin knew that if they were caught, the Professors would be most displeased – magical experimentation on mysterious objects was supposed to be a thing left to the professionals, i.e., the teachers. Heedless of the fact, Guin and Rilla had both attempted various charms on the object, but nothing happened.
In exasperation, they threw everything they knew at it, including the boil-summoning magic, the Furnunculus hex. Then, Rilla tried a simple light-bringing incantation. "Lumos!" Suddenly, the stone shone brilliantly from within, a blinding flame that had no hint of a flicker, just an unceasing, searing fire. After a few seconds of stunned vision-less blinking, their eyes grew accustomed to the glare.
"It almost looks like phoenix fire's supposed to," Guin said thoughtfully, "You know, when they burn."
"What's that?" A curious voice at the door inquired amiably. The two girls recoiled. This particular room, they thought, was their secret, a classroom almost entirely forgotten by the rest of the castle at large, tucked away in the recessed alcoves of a dusty hallway. But yet, there, standing at the door, cool and collected, was the sardonically cheerful face of L'Argent. He laughed at their guilty faces, and then looked at the stone. "Can I come in too, or is this a girl's only clubhouse?"
"If we say no, will you listen?"
"Point taken," he conceded, and moved into the room, taking a seat on one of the pillows placed on the floor. Fingers in a pyramid that rested below his chin, the boy squinted at Rilla's find curiously. "Where'd you manage to steal that?"
"We didn't steal it, L'Argent," Guin snapped, waving her hand. "Go away."
Rilla startled both of them with a blue-eyed glare. "All right, you two, stop it!"
"Stop what?" Guin and L'Argent said at the same time, and promptly shot poisonous glares in the other's direction.
"/That/. Stop carping at each other all the time. You should be friends, you're like the same person separated in two."
Guin and L'Argent glanced at each other, revolted, and made the sort of face that only an immature eleven-year-old can manage. "Friends?" Guin asked in disbelief. "Rilla, I'm sorry, you must be insane. Friends with him—?"
"Maybe— maybe she has a point," L'Argent said after a moment's pause. "I mean, it'd make my life a lot easier. Marlowe, mutual assured destruction?"
It took Guin several seconds to come up with a meaning for his words. And then, it came to her: during the 1960's, the Muggle governments of the Soviet Union and the United States were involved in a Cold War and an arms race, to see who could build the most deadly weapons the fastest. At any one point, they both possessed enough ammunition to destroy the world many times over, but neither wanted the nuclear holocaust many could see approaching. Instead, there had been an unofficial policy of mutual assured destruction – I can kill you, but if I try, you could kill me too. So I won't.
She had to grin at the reference, and nodded. "I suppose. But this still doesn't mean I'm going to like you."
"No, I suppose that'd be too much to ask," he drawled, and leaned forward. "So where did you find this thing, anyway?"
"In the Forbidden Forest." Guin said it as nonchalantly as possible, and was rewarded by the look of surprise on L'Argent's face.
"You went in the Forbidden Forest?" The girls grinned at each other; he sounded fairly envious.
It seemed, Rilla reflected, to fit. As they talked, Guin and Mikael still snipped and insulted, but there was a certain quality that the blue-eyed girl could sense, perhaps of friendship, but more of an understanding that had not been there before. And she smiled, for that had been her goal. Taking the light-spell off of the crystal, she turned to listen to the others argue about something – what their disagreement was did not matter.
-----
Rilla was quite annoyed that Snape was to referee the upcoming Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match. "Guin, you have to admit that he's going to favor the Slytherins," Rilla argued.
"No, he won't," L'Argent said, shaking his head emphatically. "Snape's fair."
"What are you talking about?" Rilla said, affronted. "Just look at him in Potions!"
"Yeah, but that's not official, like this. I'm telling you he'll be fair."
The two Slytherins and the Gryffindor trooped down to the Quidditch field, caught up in the noisy crowds. Rilla was more nervous than Guin or L'Argent. Slytherin would not be playing today, and they were in second place, having lost only to Gryffindor itself. Guin could see the players warming up on the field, the crowd oohing and aaahing as Potter did some practice loops and dives. He was rather good, Guin admitted, and sat back in her seat to enjoy the game.
It was short but amusing. Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty after swerving around in a circle to avoid a Bludger shot his way by Fred Weasley. All three children laughed uproariously, it was quite an amusing sight, and his normally sallow face was flushed red with annoyance. Their attention was momentarily diverted as a scuffle broke out on the stands: Rilla kept an eye on the field, as Guin and L'Argent attempted to piece out what was going on three or four rows below them. Ron had attacked Malfoy, it seemed, and Crabbe and Goyle were beating Neville—
"He's got it! He almost knocked Snape off the broom!" Rilla said, and just as suddenly fell silent. She tugged on Guin's sleeve urgently. "Guin, Guin, it's happening again."
Guin tore her eyes away from the fight, and glanced at Rilla. "Hmm?" Rilla repeated herself, and Guin's eyes sharpened. Perhaps Rilla was just being paranoid, but the worried look seemed to be genuine enough. "Someone's watching you?" L'Argent peered at them curiously. "No time to explain. Let's go," Guin said, dragging them down out of the stands, before the rest of the crowd could rush at the field and down the stairs.
They hurried out of the Quidditch field, where Rilla lurked in the shadows nervously. "I don't know. It's creepy. I can't describe it.."
"There!" L'Argent said, pointing. A dark figure had noticed them, and just as quickly slipped away.
Guin and L'Argent had their wands out in their hands instantly, and Rilla did after a moment as well. "The feeling's gone," she whispered. "God. It was like being drenched in cold water.."
They continued to look; but found only crowds of celebrating Gryffindors.
"Guin! Guin!" Rilla whispered. It was a tumbled jumble of excited words that fell one after another from her mouth, as though she could not wait to spill them out. Rilla was attempting to be quiet, but again, her enthusiasm rose the murmur to a sort of sotto voce stage mutter. Running, she caught up with her taller friend and glanced at her. "I have to tell you something!" Dancing from foot to foot, she looked as though she was about to burst.
"What is it?" Guin asked knowingly. Rilla often had 'terribly important things' to tell, but they weren't always as high of a priority as she thought. This time, however, Guin was wrong.
"Remember on Halloween, when we saw that three-headed dog?"
"The Cerberus? How could I forget?"
"I found out what it's guarding."
"What?! How?"
"Well, you know how Harry, Hermione, and Ron are always talking?"
"They're friends, yeah."
"And you remember that night when Malfoy was bullying Neville? After you scared Malfoy off, Neville hopped all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, crying like. So I'm sitting on a chair with its back to them, and they don't know I'm there. But I'm listening, see, 'cos I'm curious. Harry gave Neville one of those chocolate frogs, but he didn't take the card. After Neville left, they read the card, and then Harry said, 'Dumbledore again. He was the first one I ever—' then he gasped and went on – 'I've found him! I've found Flamel!' Then he read the card, and then Hermione went running upstairs to get a book and – what they're hiding under the trapdoor is a Philosopher's Stone!" She took a deep breath. "Amazing! So I could hardly sleep 'cos I wanted to tell you."
Guin had been staring at her, rapt, throughout the recital. "Well, they've certainly got it well protected.. I suppose that no one could steal it, now – someone tried. In July. I read it in the Daily Prophet." They walked along the hallway to their abandoned classroom, Guin running a hand through her hair. "Good work, Ril. Guess it pays off to be small sometimes, eh?" They snickered at each other, and then slipped through the door into the classroom.
From her pocket, Rilla drew the stone she had found yesterday.
"I wonder if it's magical?" Rilla wondered, as they examined the stone she had found in the forest. It shimmered piercingly in the dim gas light of the chamber, the flickering blue flames on the walls picked up in the depths of the pebble. Both girls held their wands out, trying out different spells on the thing. Guin knew that if they were caught, the Professors would be most displeased – magical experimentation on mysterious objects was supposed to be a thing left to the professionals, i.e., the teachers. Heedless of the fact, Guin and Rilla had both attempted various charms on the object, but nothing happened.
In exasperation, they threw everything they knew at it, including the boil-summoning magic, the Furnunculus hex. Then, Rilla tried a simple light-bringing incantation. "Lumos!" Suddenly, the stone shone brilliantly from within, a blinding flame that had no hint of a flicker, just an unceasing, searing fire. After a few seconds of stunned vision-less blinking, their eyes grew accustomed to the glare.
"It almost looks like phoenix fire's supposed to," Guin said thoughtfully, "You know, when they burn."
"What's that?" A curious voice at the door inquired amiably. The two girls recoiled. This particular room, they thought, was their secret, a classroom almost entirely forgotten by the rest of the castle at large, tucked away in the recessed alcoves of a dusty hallway. But yet, there, standing at the door, cool and collected, was the sardonically cheerful face of L'Argent. He laughed at their guilty faces, and then looked at the stone. "Can I come in too, or is this a girl's only clubhouse?"
"If we say no, will you listen?"
"Point taken," he conceded, and moved into the room, taking a seat on one of the pillows placed on the floor. Fingers in a pyramid that rested below his chin, the boy squinted at Rilla's find curiously. "Where'd you manage to steal that?"
"We didn't steal it, L'Argent," Guin snapped, waving her hand. "Go away."
Rilla startled both of them with a blue-eyed glare. "All right, you two, stop it!"
"Stop what?" Guin and L'Argent said at the same time, and promptly shot poisonous glares in the other's direction.
"/That/. Stop carping at each other all the time. You should be friends, you're like the same person separated in two."
Guin and L'Argent glanced at each other, revolted, and made the sort of face that only an immature eleven-year-old can manage. "Friends?" Guin asked in disbelief. "Rilla, I'm sorry, you must be insane. Friends with him—?"
"Maybe— maybe she has a point," L'Argent said after a moment's pause. "I mean, it'd make my life a lot easier. Marlowe, mutual assured destruction?"
It took Guin several seconds to come up with a meaning for his words. And then, it came to her: during the 1960's, the Muggle governments of the Soviet Union and the United States were involved in a Cold War and an arms race, to see who could build the most deadly weapons the fastest. At any one point, they both possessed enough ammunition to destroy the world many times over, but neither wanted the nuclear holocaust many could see approaching. Instead, there had been an unofficial policy of mutual assured destruction – I can kill you, but if I try, you could kill me too. So I won't.
She had to grin at the reference, and nodded. "I suppose. But this still doesn't mean I'm going to like you."
"No, I suppose that'd be too much to ask," he drawled, and leaned forward. "So where did you find this thing, anyway?"
"In the Forbidden Forest." Guin said it as nonchalantly as possible, and was rewarded by the look of surprise on L'Argent's face.
"You went in the Forbidden Forest?" The girls grinned at each other; he sounded fairly envious.
It seemed, Rilla reflected, to fit. As they talked, Guin and Mikael still snipped and insulted, but there was a certain quality that the blue-eyed girl could sense, perhaps of friendship, but more of an understanding that had not been there before. And she smiled, for that had been her goal. Taking the light-spell off of the crystal, she turned to listen to the others argue about something – what their disagreement was did not matter.
-----
Rilla was quite annoyed that Snape was to referee the upcoming Gryffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match. "Guin, you have to admit that he's going to favor the Slytherins," Rilla argued.
"No, he won't," L'Argent said, shaking his head emphatically. "Snape's fair."
"What are you talking about?" Rilla said, affronted. "Just look at him in Potions!"
"Yeah, but that's not official, like this. I'm telling you he'll be fair."
The two Slytherins and the Gryffindor trooped down to the Quidditch field, caught up in the noisy crowds. Rilla was more nervous than Guin or L'Argent. Slytherin would not be playing today, and they were in second place, having lost only to Gryffindor itself. Guin could see the players warming up on the field, the crowd oohing and aaahing as Potter did some practice loops and dives. He was rather good, Guin admitted, and sat back in her seat to enjoy the game.
It was short but amusing. Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty after swerving around in a circle to avoid a Bludger shot his way by Fred Weasley. All three children laughed uproariously, it was quite an amusing sight, and his normally sallow face was flushed red with annoyance. Their attention was momentarily diverted as a scuffle broke out on the stands: Rilla kept an eye on the field, as Guin and L'Argent attempted to piece out what was going on three or four rows below them. Ron had attacked Malfoy, it seemed, and Crabbe and Goyle were beating Neville—
"He's got it! He almost knocked Snape off the broom!" Rilla said, and just as suddenly fell silent. She tugged on Guin's sleeve urgently. "Guin, Guin, it's happening again."
Guin tore her eyes away from the fight, and glanced at Rilla. "Hmm?" Rilla repeated herself, and Guin's eyes sharpened. Perhaps Rilla was just being paranoid, but the worried look seemed to be genuine enough. "Someone's watching you?" L'Argent peered at them curiously. "No time to explain. Let's go," Guin said, dragging them down out of the stands, before the rest of the crowd could rush at the field and down the stairs.
They hurried out of the Quidditch field, where Rilla lurked in the shadows nervously. "I don't know. It's creepy. I can't describe it.."
"There!" L'Argent said, pointing. A dark figure had noticed them, and just as quickly slipped away.
Guin and L'Argent had their wands out in their hands instantly, and Rilla did after a moment as well. "The feeling's gone," she whispered. "God. It was like being drenched in cold water.."
They continued to look; but found only crowds of celebrating Gryffindors.