Chapter Thirteen: Professor Grubbly-Plank

The week after the Yule Ball was every bit as interesting as the one before it.

For one thing, there was the matter of the stolen cauldron. After frantically questioning every member and searching every inch of the Vase Room, Richard had to admit that it was gone without a trace. The very next day, both he and Gypsy came down with the flu. He spent most of the rest of holiday bedridden with smoke from his ears gathering in the canvas roof of his four-poster. Beth loaned him her entire collection of paperback novels to pass the time, and they had quite a few interesting conversations along those lines.

The romance of Warrington and Antigone Von Dervish was the juiciest bit of gossip since Draco had been turned into a ferret. The pairing had everyone astonished. Antigone had dated a lot of boys since first year, but Beth had never seen her actually fall for one. Now that she finally had, she had fallen hard. Warrington, for his part, was going around in a state of perpetual bliss. What few brain cells he had were completely occupied (which made him difficult to talk to, but fun to play Gobstones with).

Bruce was getting along with Viktor better than ever. At breakfast on New Year's Day he gave Viktor a sign to hang on his table in the library that read "Krum's Korner." Viktor laughed and politely declined, but Josef took it to hang on his bunk on the ship. Then he asked Beth for a waltz, which she refused on the grounds that there was no music, so he broke into song. Most of his classmates joined in -- including Viktor, who was more cheerful than he had been all year.

Those of Beth's classmates who had already turned seventeen were hustled off to take their Apparation tests early in January. Nobody heard from them all day. Finally, late that evening, Melissa burst into the bedroom, looking terribly excited. "Oh Beth, it was horrible! You should've been there!"

Beth, propped on her elbows overtop of Vision in the Vernacular, glanced up warily. "What happened?"

"We all went to take our Apparation tests, you know ... one by one ... and Beth -- Warrington splinched!"

Beth gasped. "Oh no! Really?"

"Yes, it was awful, he left behind both legs and an eyeball, and the rest of him showed up half a block down from where he was supposed to be! It was gruesome, just like they told us about in class!"

"Is he all right?"

Melissa waved her hand in the air. "Oh yes, once they found all the parts they put him back together -- they're keeping him overnight at St. Mungo's and he's got to wear an eye patch for a few weeks, but he'll be fine." She shuddered. "Good thing he went last, though. If he'd gone before I wouldn't have had the nerve to try it."

Beth wasn't sure she would have had the nerve to try it at all.

***

Warrington came back from St. Mungo's on the morning of the first day of the new term. At lunch he was made a great deal of, both by Antigone who looked like she thought he would die and all the little firsties, who thought his injuries made him the coolest thing imaginable. They did have a point. Warrington was a pretty formidable character either way you looked at it, but the eye patch made him look downright deadly.

The firsties were practically swarming over him when the fourth-years, wet from the knee down with snow, tromped inside from Care of Magical Creatures. They all looked mightily pleased with themselves.

"Good lesson?" Beth asked, eyebrows raised.

"Faith, an' t'was the best lesson we ever had," said Morag cheerily. His cheeks were red with cold. "Tho' the bairns nivver tiched the beastie."

Beth glanced at Blaise for a translation. "The boys never touched the beast," she explained. "The unicorn, that is. But that's not why the lesson was so good anyway."

"Then why --" Beth began.

Blaise held out a copy of the Daily Prophet.

"'Dumbledore's Giant Mistake'?" Beth read. "'Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments ...'" She scanned the first paragraph quickly. "This is no worse than that article over the summer that called him a dingbat."

"It doesn't matter what she says about Dumbledore," said Blaise impatiently. "Read what she says about Hagrid."

The first several paragraphs were devoted to making both Mad-Eye Moody and Hagrid look as vicious as possible. There was also a great deal about the Blast-Ended Skrewts. Beth snorted back a laugh when she came to a quotation from Draco Malfoy.

"Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm?"

Blaise shushed her quickly. "It was Vincent's idea," she said. "He was so proud of himself for coming up with it ..."

Beth went back to the article. About halfway down she stopped -- read the line again -- scanned the rest of the article quickly and then came back to the one sentence. Upon one word hinged the entire article: giant. She put down the paper and looked over at Blaise in frank surprise.

"Is it true?"

Blaise was scornful. "Of course it is -- just look at him!"

Beth shot a glance at the head table, but Hagrid was not there.

"He wasn't in class either," Blaise said gleefully. "We've got a substitute teacher and everything. Professor Grubbly-Plank. She brought in a unicorn -- it was really great, especially since none of the Gryffindors had read the article yet. They were really mad." Blaise hadn't looked so happy all year. "Who knows? We might end up having her for the rest of the year!" She took back the Daily Prophet and rejoined her classmates, who were having a celebratory toast at the end of the table.

***

Beth got a chance to experience Professor Grubbly-Plank for herself the next day. The witch was small and wiry, with short gray hair and a mole on her extremely prominent chin. She met them outside Hagrid's cabin and led them past the Beauxbatons carriage to the edge of the forest. There stood not one but two pure white unicorns, as shimmering and lovely as the snow around their hooves.

"Boys, keep your distance!" Professor Grubbly-Plank barked, as they reached the trees where the two beasts were tethered. "Unicorns will prefer the ladies' touch."

The Gryffindor girls crowded around one of the unicorns, and Beth and Melissa approached the other. Antigone hung back, clinging to Warrington's hand, haughtily deaf to taunts from the Gryffindor boys.

The unicorn was magnificent and regal, tossing its head anxiously at the approach of the humans. Beth was afraid to touch it -- not because it seemed dangerous, but because it was so pure, so good and powerful, that she somehow felt awkward and unworthy just being near it.

"Lovely, aren't they?" said Melissa blithely. She reached up and began to stroke the creature's nose. "I've seen loads of them but I'm always impressed ... come on, you can touch it, you know!"

Gingerly Beth reached out and laid a hand on the unicorn's smooth white flank. The flesh was warm, the hair silkier than that of an ordinary horse.

Professor Grubbly-Plank wandered over from the other unicorn. "The hair, horn and blood of the unicorn are all extremely powerful magical substances," she was saying loudly, so the boys could hear too. "Bones and hooves a little less. The hair goes into most wand cores -- though I 'spect you know about that," she said to Melissa, who looked pleased at being recognized. "Quite perceptive, unicorns. Can tell instantly about people. The trade in blood's quite heavily watched so you'll have a job finding any ... 'course there's always Knockturn Alley!" she added cheerfully, and let out a harsh laugh that sounded much like the bray of a donkey. Beth and Melissa, who were the closest, winced.

The lecture was actually very interesting once you got past the aggravating way Professor Grubbly-Plank delivered it. She finished several minutes before the end of class, allowing the girls to croon over the unicorns and the boys to be jealous of them several yards away. She joined Beth and Melissa and began to scratch the unicorn's ears.

"Ain't they lovely?" she said offhandedly, rubbing the unicorn's snout in a rough, affectionate way.

"Spectacular," said Melissa. Beth nodded her agreement.

Still rubbing the unicorn's snout, Professor Grubbly-Plank leaned over the creature's flank until she was nose-to-nose with Beth and Melissa. "How'd you enjoy my Amulet of Eclipse?"

For a moment, Beth had no idea what she was talking about. Then she remembered -- both she and Melissa stopped and stared at their substitute teacher. "The --" Beth started, and only then noticed the S.S.A. ring on their professor's finger. "The one we used at the end of last year, to break into ... er, the one that we borrowed ... that was yours?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank drew back nodded proudly. "Sure is -- least, as long as I can keep Bode and Croaker's paws off of it."

A light clicked on in Beth's head. "You're Grubbs!"

The elderly witch let out a little sigh. "Yes, if those two Cockneys would have their way." She rolled her eyes. "Incorrigible. But aside from them, I was glad for the loan -- it's good to know the Society's keeping busy."

Beth thought of all they had done in the past three years, and the empty podium where the Ledger should have rested. "Oh yes," she said. "Definitely busy."

Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded in brusque satisfaction. "Just as well. The devil will find work for idle Slytherins, eh?" She chuckled a little; then, lowering her voice, added: "Speak of the devil -- I've a message for you and your club. Some of us Alumni have been interpreting the signs, and they all ring true: Tom Riddle's coming back, and he'll be angrier than before."

Beth and Melissa exchanged nervous glances. "Signs?" said Melissa, in a hushed voice. "Like what?"

Grubbly-Plank shook her head. "Disappearances. The Dark Mark at the World Cup. And others ... that I'd rather not describe to you." She sighed a little and scratched the unicorn's neck idly. "He's gaining strength, and it won't be good: not for the innocents, not for those who try to fight him, not for the Death Eaters who abandoned him, and not for the Society that strayed from his ideals."

Beth thought of the S.S.A. crypt, stark in the moonlight, and shuddered.

"In any case," Professor Grubbly-Plank said briskly, "he's not renewed yet, is he? And young Mr. Potter is still around ... a lot of folks have pinned their hopes on him, let me tell you ..." She shook her head as if willing away a sad thought; then she looked up at the two of them and said brightly, "You don't mind if I pop in for the meeting this week, do you? Still Thursdays at eleven?"

"Yeah," said Beth, at the same time that Melissa said, "Of course, that would be wonderful! You could update us on what the alumni are doing -- and tell us a bit more about those signs of the Dark Lord," she added, with a glint in her eye.

"We'll see," said Professor Grubbly-Plank shortly.

The crunching sound of footprints in the snow caused them to break off from conversation. Alicia Spinnet was approaching the professor, a concerned look on her face. "How long is Hagrid going to be out?" she asked.

Professor Grubbly-Plank pursed her wrinkled lips. "I can't say, dearie. He didn't look keen on coming back this morning, that's for sure. You'll have to get used to me for a while!" She brayed out her harsh laugh again.

"Oh," said Alicia Spinnet, not looking at all pleased. "Okay. Thanks." She retreated to spread the word among her classmates.

"Hagrid's a great baby, really," Professor Grubbly-Plank confided, when she was gone. "I knew him in school. Quite too sensitive -- and a Gryffindor to boot. Now all this about him being part giant ... well, I shouldn't wonder if he quit Hogwarts entirely."

Beth thought there was entirely too much glee in the way she said that.

***

After lunch they had their first Apparator's Education class. Mervin and Beth got there early and sat around theorizing about the stolen cauldron.

"It was the Weasley girl," said Mervin stubbornly. "We just have to prove it."

"We can't prove it," Beth insisted. "The cauldron was stolen sometime during the Yule Ball. Evan said she didn't leave the Ball once -- and both Bruce and Blaise are saying the same thing."

"It doesn't mean she's innocent!" Mervin hissed. "It means she's got accomplices! Little scarlet-wearing first-year ones!"

"Or maybe," said Beth, her gaze sliding to the Gryffindor side of the classroom, "obnoxious red-haired ones, just about our size."

Mervin turned to follow her gaze. The Weasley twins were huddled together, arguing in fierce undertones. Surprisingly, none of their admirers were in on the conversation. It was eerie to watch the socialite twins alone in discussion; it made them look at once vulnerable and strange.

"They were at the ball too," said Mervin dubiously. "The one was dancing so hard he almost killed me."

"Me too," said Beth, "but where was the other one?"

The Weasleys looked up just then and Beth and Mervin turned away.

"It's the oldest trick in the book," Mervin muttered. "They could be in two places at once, easy. We've got to watch them."

"Are you plotting?" came Aaron's cheerful voice above them. "Can we help?"

"We're not plotting," said Beth quickly. She looked up. "Warrington! I thought you had this class last semester."

Warrington blushed a deep purple beneath his eye patch.

"He failed his Apparation exam," Aaron explained. "Has to take it again."

"Shame you missed the other class," said Mervin. "You of all people could use some career counseling."

Warrington grunted at him, which either meant "I'll take it over the summer" or "I don't care."

"Warrington doesn't need career counseling," grinned Aaron. He was obviously delighted that his best friend had been transferred to their class. "He's going to be a pirate. See, he's already dressing the part."

All of them laughed, Warrington letting out a deep chuckle despite himself. Some of the other students nearby glanced at them nervously.

Soon, however, Madame Hooch stormed into the classroom and ordered them into their seats. She swept her wand and a large screen appeared behind her, in front of the blackboard.

"Come on, you lot, settle down," she barked. Everyone hastily took their seats. "Welcome to Apparator's Education. You are here to learn to Apparate safely and accurately. You will be challenged. This is not as easy as riding a broom -- and I remember your first-year flying lessons," she added darkly, raising her chin. Beth and Mervin exchanged an embarrassed glance. They had actually collided the first time in the air; it had been almost worse than not getting off the ground at all, like one or two of the Gryffindors.

"But you all mastered it eventually -- more or less -- and with hard work and dedication, you'll be able to Apparate as well. But you must focus. You must think clearly. Because if you don't get it right --" Madame Hooch whapped the screen with her wand and an image appeared. "-- This can happen."

The class recoiled, making noises of horror or disgust. One of the Hufflepuffs covered her eyes. The Ravenclaws stopped taking notes and stared at the ghastly scene.

"Oh wow," said Mervin, leaning forward. "Is there a curse that can do that?"

"There is," said Madame Hooch, "and it's called not paying attention."

"Constant vigilance!" chirped someone, and everybody laughed. Madame Hooch cracked a smile despite herself.

"Constant vigilance indeed," she agreed. "Your attention must not waver. Now, quills out -- we'll be going over the history of Apparation first --"

Madame Hooch, very fortunately, was a much more lively teacher of history than Professor Binns, and the class was interesting -- especially since she kept sprinkling it with stories of Apparations gone horribly wrong. By the end of class everybody was a bit wide-eyed and excitable; all those grisly stories made class something like watching Creaothceann.

Beth caught Mervin on the way out the door. "There goes Cedric," she murmured. "Don't let him get away."

They cornered him in the hall before his next class, blocking his way to Charms. "It's after New Year's," she told him. "You said you'd let us help you with the second task."

"But I don't need help," said Cedric, looking surprised. "I've known what the egg was saying since before the Yule Ball."

Beth was as surprised as he was. "Really? How?"

Cedric looked slightly uncomfortable. "I was tossing it around in class, and Pro- ... one of the professors suggested I try it underwater. So I took it to the prefect's bathroom and you can hear a song come out of it when you open it under the water. It's a riddle."

There was a pause.

"And the riddle was ...?" said Mervin.

"I can't remember it all," said Cedric. "'Come to where our voices sound, they can't be heard above the ground, something something, after an hour, too late, it's gone, it won't come back.' I think it means that the merfolk in the lake are going to steal something I value and I have an hour to get it back." He shouldered his rucksack and started to leave.

Beth stretched out her hand and held him back. "I want to hear the real poem," she said. "Write it down and hand it to me in Alchemy."

Cedric looked annoyed. "I'm telling you, I've got it right," he said.

"It's safer with a second opinion," said Beth stubbornly, and Cedric let out an impatient sigh. "I don't want to sound like Trelawney or anything, but --"

"I know, I know," sighed Cedric. "I could die."

"Exactly." Beth took a glance over her shoulder to be sure that no one was listening. "And what if it's not Merfolk? What if somebody else took something you value, and you didn't know how to get it back?"

Cedric held up his hands. "All right, fine, I'll write it down for you. But meantime I'm going to get started with what I have. I'm right, you'll see -- and I puzzled it out myself."

"Like that makes a difference," said Mervin, and he and Beth went off to class, leaving Cedric in the middle of the hall shaking his head.

***

"Your final projects," said Professor Snape coldly, "should be nearly two-thirds completed by this point in the school year."

The class shifted uncomfortably -- which made Beth feel extremely relieved. She had thought she was the only one who was not more than half finished.

Snape, too, noticed the reaction, and raised his chin slightly. "I see that this is perhaps too great an expectation," he said. "Clearly other events have been weighing on your mind more heavily than this, the most important project of your career at Hogwarts."

Everybody looked at Cedric.

"Be that as it may," Snape went on, as Cedric blushed and ducked his head, "I shall be expecting your end-of-month reports to reflect a level of completion appropriate for a full five months of work."

Some of the Ravenclaws exchanged panicked looks. Beth felt her cheeks grow hot. There was no way she had as much material as Snape wanted, and this was one professor who had no qualms at all about giving failing marks. It looked like she was going to spend a lot more late nights in the library this month.

Having satisfactorily frightened them all, Professor Snape began the day's lesson with something of a smile.

There was no doubt about it -- Alchemy was getting harder. Professors Snape and Vector had them delving into some really complicated Potions theory and Arithmancy; the constant pressure of the final project only made it harder to concentrate on day-to-day class work. Still, Beth had to admit that there was some subtle beauty in a softly simmering cauldron after all --

"Ow! Oops, sorry there, Ced --"

Assuming, of course, you didn't have Stebbins throwing his toadstools in too soon.

It took the rest of class to clean up, and another three minutes while Professor Snape told off Stebbins for not paying attention. Beth for one didn't mind the distraction ... every time Snape was yelling at someone else, it meant he wasn't yelling at her. Finally they were all allowed to gather their things and leave. On the way out, Cedric paused in front of her desk. When he left, a folded piece of parchment stuck out from one corner of her textbook. She pulled it out carefully -- the outside was labeled with the letters T.T. "Triwizard Tournament," she said to herself, and unfolded the note.

Come seek us where our voices sound,
We cannot sing above the ground,
And while you're searching, ponder this:
We've taken what you'll surely miss,
An hour long you'll have to look,
And recover what we took,
But past an hour -- the prospect's black,
Too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

At the bottom, Cedric had scrawled: "Merfolk -- lake!"

Sure enough, Cedric's interpretation seemed to match with the rhyme. Beth wasn't sure what the "thing you'll miss" could be, but she wouldn't bet on it still being around after the allotted hour. Between classes she handed the note to Mervin, who kept it until dinner when he told her that he agreed with everything Cedric had said.

They approached him in the library after dinner.

"You're right," said Beth, handing him the letter. "Merfolk -- I'm sure they're talking about the ones in the lake. You know what that means."

Cedric looked up at them expectantly.

"We've got two months to teach you how to breathe underwater."

***

Although they brainstormed in the library for hours, by the time Madame Pince kicked them out there were no good ideas.

Becoming an aquatic Animagus was by far the most ideal solution, but it was impossible to accomplish in eight weeks. (It had taken Daedalus Dellinger, a former S.S.A. member, well over two years to perfect his transformation into a snake.) Diggory refused to even consider Muggle scuba-diving equipment, which he considered "cheating", and wouldn't budge even when the Slytherins insisted that there was no such thing as cheating when it came to life and death. (Or any number of other things, they agreed privately, but those were even less likely to sit well with an honorable Hufflepuff.)

He also wouldn't ask any of the teachers. This was a problem because none of the Society could make inquiries without looking suspicious, and Richard was certain that the professors not only knew what the task was all about, but that all of them had their own ideas on how to overcome it.

"Flitwick would have them use a charm," he ranted at the meeting that week. "McGonagall would want them to Transfigure into a frog or something … Snape is sure to know about some oxygenated potion -- goodness knows what Sprout's got out in that greenhouse -- and Hagrid would just ask the squid to get it for him!" He slumped into the armchair. "Half the school could probably meet the challenge -- if Diggory would just ask somebody!"

"He thinks it would be cheating," said Bruce tiredly. "He'd rather die."

"Well, he just might," said Richard tersely.

There was a pause. "One of the teachers told him to open it underwater," Beth pointed out.

"Which one?" asked Blaise Zabini.

Beth and Mervin exchanged looks. "I don't think he said which one," Mervin said. "He was probably embarrassed about it."

"I'm not surprised," said Richard. "He's going to fair-play himself right into an early grave."

Melissa let out a noise of impatience. "Really, Rich, we don't know that," she said. "We have no idea how long the spell takes to work. And his uncle hasn't died of it yet, remember?"

"That's what I can't figure," Mervin interjected thoughtfully. "Is Cedric lying? Did his uncle lie about taking the potion? Doesn't that part of the potion work? It doesn't add up."

"That's a good point," said Richard. He nodded slowly. "Something tells me that the sooner we figure that out, the more chance we have to save Diggory from himself." He sighed. "At least we're getting somewhere. Let's move on. Who the devil's taking our stuff?"

They never got a chance to discuss the thefts, however, because just then the door to the Vase Room creaked open. Richard leapt to his feet, obviously ready to Stun -- or possibly murder -- the intruder, should they happen to be the thief ... but the head that poked round the corner belonged to Professor Grubbly-Plank.

"I'm jiggered!" she said cheerfully, coming inside and plunking onto a low sofa. "Lots of you this year!"

"Er -- a good twelve," said Richard. "I didn't know you'd be coming."

Melissa gave him a guilty look.

The Professor let out her braying laugh. "Well, here I am!" she cackled. "Tell me now -- what's the club been up to?"

Melissa interrupted before Richard could speak. "You said you'd tell us more about the alumni chapter, and something about the Dark Lord."

Professor Grubbly-Plank's long face fell. "Eh. Nothing, really."

"You sounded a bit worried," said Melissa.

Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded reluctantly. "Truth be told, the Society's had a scrape of trouble," she admitted. "We sent in a fellow to search the Riddle House for clues on the disappearance of that Muggle who worked there."

"Oh yes, of course," said Melissa. "My uncle mentioned that."

"What did he find?" Richard pressed.

Professor Grubbly-Plank hesitated. "We ain't sure," she said finally. "When he came out he'd lost his memory. Obliterated right out. The folks at St. Mungo's are doing what they can for 'im, but ..." She trailed off.

There was an uneasy silence. "Who was it?" Richard asked at last.

"Me old classmate," said Professor Grubbly-Plank. "Bernard Humphries."

Bruce started. "Bernard Humphries?" he repeated. "An old fellow, no hair?"

Professor Grubbly-Plank nodded shortly.

"I say," said Bruce. "I sat beside him at Baltus Gatherum's funeral." He looked down at his hands. "He was telling me stories from the Riddle days. He remembered things like … like what people were wearing, the exact things they said. To have lost all that …"

Grubbly-Plank sighed. "His mind held as much of our history as the Ledger did. Least we still have the one, eh?"

Richard went extremely pale.

"That's why we sent him in, see," Grubbly-Plank went on. "He'd notice if things were amiss. He found something ..."

"... but nobody knows just what," Melissa finished faintly.

"Well," said Professor Grubbly-Plank, pursing her lips, "most of us have a theory."

Beth had a theory too; but it remained unspoken, and that was just as well.

***

Professor Grubbly-Plank's report made for a troubled meeting. The Society was still subdued as they crept back into the common room and made their way to their separate dormitories. Beth climbed into bed without saying much more than "Good night" to Melissa.

The idea that a Society member had been so harmed in the course of duty was stunning and strange. Beth knew that their exploits could be dangerous - she herself had faced the mists of the Forbidden Forest, a giant three-headed dog, and the guardians of Azkaban - but they always seemed to turn out all right. Daedalus had been Petrified, but he had been restored … Richard had been Stunned by about thirty terrified Ministry workers, but he had recovered … and they had all survived being taken hostage by Randall Riggs, who, it was now agreed, had more than enough screws loose to have made it a very messy ending. They had done all right in the past. But Beth thought of the stone statue in the Chamber of Secrets: Ulysses Donner, a Society member who had wandered too far.

Beth rolled over on her pillow and thought that the S.S.A. might be a more dangerous organization than she had imagined.

~~~~~~~~
Miracle of miracles! Fanfiction.net has finally decided to let me start uploading chapters again! So sorry for the delay, folks. I absolutely promise that the whole book will be up by June 20 -- if FF.net acts up again, go to the website listed in my profile.