At breakfast, Sally-Ann fell asleep, her head dropping forward into her porridge. The rest of the Slytherins laughed uproariously as she started, lifting a face upward to show features caked with gray, lumpy goo. Rilla, across the room, saw, and had to be pounded on the back by Seamus Finnigan until she stopped giggling, for the laughter changed into hiccups. Sally-Ann took it better than Guin would have, wiping off the goop with a nearby napkin.
"Hey, Marlowe, how come your mummy doesn't send you anything?" Malfoy asked, nonchalantly unwrapping a package from home.
Guin stuck her tongue out at him, but didn't deign to respond beyond that. Glancing sideways, she noticed that L'Argent's food remained mostly untouched, and he was bent over the sketchbook sent by Uncle Henry, quill scribbling industriously. She took the opportunity to steal a piece of his toast, and nibbled at it while trying to see what he was drawing. Unfortunately her movements attracted his attention, and he covered up the notepad and glared at her. "Stop!"
"Why? I'm just curious."
"It's not done yet. It's not very good."
"Bull. All your stuff's good and you can show me again when you're finished."
There was a momentary struggle in which Guin's elbow knocked a jug of fresh milk onto Crabbe's lap, but eventually she managed to snatch the notebook away from his reluctant fingers. At first the lines made no sense to her, but then she realized that it was being held upside down. Twirling it around, Guin evaded another grab by L'Argent, and peered curiously at the sketch. It was a fairly accurate rendering of herself, and Rilla, bent over the crystal that shone in black and white.
"You drew /us/!" Guin said, tiny smile on her face.
"Well," he muttered.
"Aw, don't be /embarrassed/, L'Argent – reading the Hardy Boys is something to be embarrassed about. This isn't bad at all."
He mumbled something that sounded like, "Dmnfgh," and snatched the book away before beating a hasty retreat.
"Guin! That was mean," Blaise admonished her, raising both eyebrows in her direction. "What did he draw, anyway?"
"Professor Binns in a bikini," Guin replied, finishing the rest of her breakfast before slipping away from the table to find Rilla.
"No he didn't!" she could hear Blaise yelping from the Slytherin end of the room, and grinned to herself.
"Hey, Ril, I've got an idea," she told her friend, who looked suspiciously at her.
"I don't like the sound of that, Guin. I don't want to get in trouble today."
"Fine," Guin said, a little affronted, and hurried away. "You're always too scared to do anything fun! I'll find someone else who wants to listen!"
L'Argent was heading back down to the Slytherin Commons when she caught up with him. "Hey, L'Argent," Guin called, and he turned around and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yes, Marlowe?"
"I have an idea. Want to listen?"
"Why not?"
When she told him, they both started to giggle uncontrollably.
-----
It took quite a while to prepare for the prank, but eventually, the jar hidden in Guin's bag was buzzing and shaking excitedly. There had been several slight mishaps, involving one which turned Guin's hair a bright, smarting neon blue, though finally everything was in place and set. The two children were forced not to look at each other as they entered McGonagall's class for fear that they'd start laughing at each other.
She began as always by calling role, but soon handed out the socks they were supposed to be Transfiguring into knit shirts. It was fairly easy, for the fabric was basically the same. Halfway through the class, L'Argent glanced sideways at Guin and nodded his head every so slightly. She ducked low to open her bag, shielded by the mess of knitting that he held up, as though puzzled. Unscrewing the iron jar lid, Guin let the fairies free, and then slipped the glass container back into hiding.
Fairies have several species, some dignified and tall, like the one in Cinderella, others tiny and mischievous, and still others, medium sized and rather like people in most respects. The ones which Guin and L'Argent had spent most of the afternoon catching were quite small, but devilish and prone to causing trouble. They had been trapped in a jar, in the dark, for hours, and were annoyed and anxious to get free, and exploded over the class in a whirlwind.
Fairy magic is as varied as the fairies themselves, and they're imaginative, on top of that. Shrieks of surprise rent the air as little, tinkling pops signaled another spell cast. Several children now sported rainbow shaded hair; several seemed to have grown extra arms, and still others had fairies buzzing like gnats around their heads, poking them with sharp little wands fashioned from cobwebs and twigs. Six of the fairies, in concert, summoned a grunting forest boar into the middle of the class. Generally, the scene was chaos, with McGonagall yelling over the entire thing.
"Stop! Stop panicking! Just hold still!" She was making the fairies disappear as fast as possible, but they didn't want to go. They seemed to have multiplied; Guin was sure that they had only caught ten in the original batch. Rapidly, they made a mess of the room, and she and L'Argent could hardly breathe for laughing. Unfortunately, their plan was spoiled when two of the fairies lifted her bag and dropped it on the floor, where the shattering of the glass jar was an unmistakable noise.
By now, Professor McGonagall had banished the rest of the fairies back to the Forest, but she had heard the noise. Stalking forward, she picked up the shards of glass from Guin's page with a levitation charm, raising a sardonic eyebrow at the two children, who stared at their feet. "Miss Marlowe? Mr. L'Argent? Am I to assume that this is a joke?" They mumbled excuses, but she continued. "Twenty points from Slytherin, and detentions for you both."
"But—" L'Argent began to protest.
"No buts! Class dismissed, it's going to take a while to clean up this mess! Those who were enchanted, please stay behind to be fixed."
-----
The Slytherins were quite annoyed when they next surveyed the hourglasses in the Great Hall, which had dipped to below Gryffindor's. When it was made known that Guin and L'Argent had been the culprits responsible, they were the object of much abuse. Tomasz, a student of Polish descent, cursed them out in his native language, sounding quite disgusted. Malfoy glowered at them, though there was a certain smug quality to his smile that puzzled both of the miscreants. He shouldn't be this happy that they had gotten in trouble, for of course it hurt the Slytherins, too.
Rilla was not speaking to either Guin or L'Argent.
The next morning they were delivered notes at the breakfast table, telling them to meet Hagrid outside Wednesday at eleven o'clock, in order to serve their detention in the Forbidden Forest. Several other students were to accompany them, and they were searching for an injured unicorn. Guin and L'Argent were paired up with Fang, Hagrid's monstrous, though friendly, wolfhound. "Stick ter th' path," he instructed them.
"Here, I'll show you where we found the crystal," Guin whispered to L'Argent.
"Aren't we supposed to be working?" he asked innocently, receiving a punch in the arm from Guin. "All right, all right. Can you find it in the dark?"
"Lumos," Guin whispered, and they followed the ghostly witch-light through the forest, finding the lake, which was spookily shadowed in the night, reflecting the moon up at their wan faces. The light sound of hooves crinkling against the loam startled both of them. "Is that—?" L'Argent hissed. But it wasn't the unicorn.
It was a centaur. He was blond, palamino, and had pale blue eyes that flickered over them curiously. "Hello," Guin managed, though shock made her throat tight and voice hoarse.
The centaur seemed amused, if anything. He bowed slightly, and spoke. "Hello, Guinivere Marlowe. Mikael L'Argent. I," and here he paused, "am Firenze, and that which you seek is not far away. Give Hagrid my regards." And he bounded off into the night, leaving the two standing and gaping.
"Right," L'Argent said, sounding unsure. "Let's.. try and find what he was talking about.." During the whole exchange, Fang whimpered uncertainly, hiding his hulking frame behind Guin and Mikael. "Some guard dog he is!" L'Argent exclaimed, but it was more of a nervous remark than anything. The shadows seemed to encroach upon them, peering curiously at the back of their heads. Subconsciously, they moved closer to each other, wands held out.
"There!" Glittering on the ground was a shimmering liquid, spilled haphazardly along the ground, as though whatever had placed it there had thrashed around before moving. "I think that's it.. we should just follow this, now," Guin said, and they moved forward nervously. And they found it. Perhaps ten minutes' walk from the lake was the crumpled form of the unicorn, legs broken underneath it in a sad little heap. Even in that undignified death, it was fey and sad, and Guin's throat closed up again, this time in a lump of tears. "Oh," she whispered.
They shot up a fountain of green sparks to let Hagrid know where they were. When he found them eventually, after several minute's searching, he was furious. "What'd yeh think yer doin', eh?" he demanded, black beetle eyes narrowed in rage and worry. "I tol' yeh ter stick on th' path, an' what are yeh doin'?" They murmured their apologies, though by the time they got back to the castle, Hagrid had calmed down somewhat. "Now I won' tell Pr'fessor McGonagall abou' this, but yeh'd better listen better in the future!"
"We will, Hagrid," they chorused contritely.
-----
The next week, Guin was quite pleased to see that the Gryffindor hourglass had dropped drastically since last night. Scuttlebutt told her that Hermione, Longbottom, Malfoy, and Potter had gotten caught after hours, wandering around the school after hours. Even though together with her and L'Argent's points, the points taken from Slytherin added to forty, that was nothing compared to the hundred and fifty that Gryffindor had suffered. Wonderful! Slytherin was again in the lead. Another unicorn had died.
"Hey, Marlowe, how come your mummy doesn't send you anything?" Malfoy asked, nonchalantly unwrapping a package from home.
Guin stuck her tongue out at him, but didn't deign to respond beyond that. Glancing sideways, she noticed that L'Argent's food remained mostly untouched, and he was bent over the sketchbook sent by Uncle Henry, quill scribbling industriously. She took the opportunity to steal a piece of his toast, and nibbled at it while trying to see what he was drawing. Unfortunately her movements attracted his attention, and he covered up the notepad and glared at her. "Stop!"
"Why? I'm just curious."
"It's not done yet. It's not very good."
"Bull. All your stuff's good and you can show me again when you're finished."
There was a momentary struggle in which Guin's elbow knocked a jug of fresh milk onto Crabbe's lap, but eventually she managed to snatch the notebook away from his reluctant fingers. At first the lines made no sense to her, but then she realized that it was being held upside down. Twirling it around, Guin evaded another grab by L'Argent, and peered curiously at the sketch. It was a fairly accurate rendering of herself, and Rilla, bent over the crystal that shone in black and white.
"You drew /us/!" Guin said, tiny smile on her face.
"Well," he muttered.
"Aw, don't be /embarrassed/, L'Argent – reading the Hardy Boys is something to be embarrassed about. This isn't bad at all."
He mumbled something that sounded like, "Dmnfgh," and snatched the book away before beating a hasty retreat.
"Guin! That was mean," Blaise admonished her, raising both eyebrows in her direction. "What did he draw, anyway?"
"Professor Binns in a bikini," Guin replied, finishing the rest of her breakfast before slipping away from the table to find Rilla.
"No he didn't!" she could hear Blaise yelping from the Slytherin end of the room, and grinned to herself.
"Hey, Ril, I've got an idea," she told her friend, who looked suspiciously at her.
"I don't like the sound of that, Guin. I don't want to get in trouble today."
"Fine," Guin said, a little affronted, and hurried away. "You're always too scared to do anything fun! I'll find someone else who wants to listen!"
L'Argent was heading back down to the Slytherin Commons when she caught up with him. "Hey, L'Argent," Guin called, and he turned around and raised an eyebrow at him.
"Yes, Marlowe?"
"I have an idea. Want to listen?"
"Why not?"
When she told him, they both started to giggle uncontrollably.
-----
It took quite a while to prepare for the prank, but eventually, the jar hidden in Guin's bag was buzzing and shaking excitedly. There had been several slight mishaps, involving one which turned Guin's hair a bright, smarting neon blue, though finally everything was in place and set. The two children were forced not to look at each other as they entered McGonagall's class for fear that they'd start laughing at each other.
She began as always by calling role, but soon handed out the socks they were supposed to be Transfiguring into knit shirts. It was fairly easy, for the fabric was basically the same. Halfway through the class, L'Argent glanced sideways at Guin and nodded his head every so slightly. She ducked low to open her bag, shielded by the mess of knitting that he held up, as though puzzled. Unscrewing the iron jar lid, Guin let the fairies free, and then slipped the glass container back into hiding.
Fairies have several species, some dignified and tall, like the one in Cinderella, others tiny and mischievous, and still others, medium sized and rather like people in most respects. The ones which Guin and L'Argent had spent most of the afternoon catching were quite small, but devilish and prone to causing trouble. They had been trapped in a jar, in the dark, for hours, and were annoyed and anxious to get free, and exploded over the class in a whirlwind.
Fairy magic is as varied as the fairies themselves, and they're imaginative, on top of that. Shrieks of surprise rent the air as little, tinkling pops signaled another spell cast. Several children now sported rainbow shaded hair; several seemed to have grown extra arms, and still others had fairies buzzing like gnats around their heads, poking them with sharp little wands fashioned from cobwebs and twigs. Six of the fairies, in concert, summoned a grunting forest boar into the middle of the class. Generally, the scene was chaos, with McGonagall yelling over the entire thing.
"Stop! Stop panicking! Just hold still!" She was making the fairies disappear as fast as possible, but they didn't want to go. They seemed to have multiplied; Guin was sure that they had only caught ten in the original batch. Rapidly, they made a mess of the room, and she and L'Argent could hardly breathe for laughing. Unfortunately, their plan was spoiled when two of the fairies lifted her bag and dropped it on the floor, where the shattering of the glass jar was an unmistakable noise.
By now, Professor McGonagall had banished the rest of the fairies back to the Forest, but she had heard the noise. Stalking forward, she picked up the shards of glass from Guin's page with a levitation charm, raising a sardonic eyebrow at the two children, who stared at their feet. "Miss Marlowe? Mr. L'Argent? Am I to assume that this is a joke?" They mumbled excuses, but she continued. "Twenty points from Slytherin, and detentions for you both."
"But—" L'Argent began to protest.
"No buts! Class dismissed, it's going to take a while to clean up this mess! Those who were enchanted, please stay behind to be fixed."
-----
The Slytherins were quite annoyed when they next surveyed the hourglasses in the Great Hall, which had dipped to below Gryffindor's. When it was made known that Guin and L'Argent had been the culprits responsible, they were the object of much abuse. Tomasz, a student of Polish descent, cursed them out in his native language, sounding quite disgusted. Malfoy glowered at them, though there was a certain smug quality to his smile that puzzled both of the miscreants. He shouldn't be this happy that they had gotten in trouble, for of course it hurt the Slytherins, too.
Rilla was not speaking to either Guin or L'Argent.
The next morning they were delivered notes at the breakfast table, telling them to meet Hagrid outside Wednesday at eleven o'clock, in order to serve their detention in the Forbidden Forest. Several other students were to accompany them, and they were searching for an injured unicorn. Guin and L'Argent were paired up with Fang, Hagrid's monstrous, though friendly, wolfhound. "Stick ter th' path," he instructed them.
"Here, I'll show you where we found the crystal," Guin whispered to L'Argent.
"Aren't we supposed to be working?" he asked innocently, receiving a punch in the arm from Guin. "All right, all right. Can you find it in the dark?"
"Lumos," Guin whispered, and they followed the ghostly witch-light through the forest, finding the lake, which was spookily shadowed in the night, reflecting the moon up at their wan faces. The light sound of hooves crinkling against the loam startled both of them. "Is that—?" L'Argent hissed. But it wasn't the unicorn.
It was a centaur. He was blond, palamino, and had pale blue eyes that flickered over them curiously. "Hello," Guin managed, though shock made her throat tight and voice hoarse.
The centaur seemed amused, if anything. He bowed slightly, and spoke. "Hello, Guinivere Marlowe. Mikael L'Argent. I," and here he paused, "am Firenze, and that which you seek is not far away. Give Hagrid my regards." And he bounded off into the night, leaving the two standing and gaping.
"Right," L'Argent said, sounding unsure. "Let's.. try and find what he was talking about.." During the whole exchange, Fang whimpered uncertainly, hiding his hulking frame behind Guin and Mikael. "Some guard dog he is!" L'Argent exclaimed, but it was more of a nervous remark than anything. The shadows seemed to encroach upon them, peering curiously at the back of their heads. Subconsciously, they moved closer to each other, wands held out.
"There!" Glittering on the ground was a shimmering liquid, spilled haphazardly along the ground, as though whatever had placed it there had thrashed around before moving. "I think that's it.. we should just follow this, now," Guin said, and they moved forward nervously. And they found it. Perhaps ten minutes' walk from the lake was the crumpled form of the unicorn, legs broken underneath it in a sad little heap. Even in that undignified death, it was fey and sad, and Guin's throat closed up again, this time in a lump of tears. "Oh," she whispered.
They shot up a fountain of green sparks to let Hagrid know where they were. When he found them eventually, after several minute's searching, he was furious. "What'd yeh think yer doin', eh?" he demanded, black beetle eyes narrowed in rage and worry. "I tol' yeh ter stick on th' path, an' what are yeh doin'?" They murmured their apologies, though by the time they got back to the castle, Hagrid had calmed down somewhat. "Now I won' tell Pr'fessor McGonagall abou' this, but yeh'd better listen better in the future!"
"We will, Hagrid," they chorused contritely.
-----
The next week, Guin was quite pleased to see that the Gryffindor hourglass had dropped drastically since last night. Scuttlebutt told her that Hermione, Longbottom, Malfoy, and Potter had gotten caught after hours, wandering around the school after hours. Even though together with her and L'Argent's points, the points taken from Slytherin added to forty, that was nothing compared to the hundred and fifty that Gryffindor had suffered. Wonderful! Slytherin was again in the lead. Another unicorn had died.