AN: This chapter, on the other hand, was fun to write, once I had worked out the plot very very carefully.
***********************
Chapter 10: Holly and Phoenix Feather
On Friday morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts class Professor Moody was teaching them how to check their food and drink for poison. They were practicing a spell designed to reveal the presence of snake venom. The professor had prepared two small dishes of beef stew for each of them, one of which was contaminated with bubotuber pus, a safer substitute that would make them ill but not kill them if they ate it. Hermione had good reason to respect even the lesser power of the plant extract, which had burned her fingers badly in an unfortunate hate-mail encounter. "The spell works just as well on bubotuber pus, which I've mixed with a small amount of Clabbert pus," Moody assured them. "If you do it correctly, the tampered dish should show a flashing red light, as Clabbert pustules do in the presence of danger. To get full marks for this you must take at least one bite of the stew you judge to be uncontaminated." Hermione looked worried at this, but she squared her shoulders, waved her wand at one of the dishes in front of her, and exclaimed, "Venomonstrate!" The stew remained unchanged. But the other dish, under the same treatment, flashed an imposing blinking red beacon.
"Let's see you give it the acid test, Hermione," said Ron with interest. "I dare you."
Hermione gave him a defiant look and took a heaping spoonful of the stew that had come up negative. She chewed, swallowed, and smiled. "Delicious. Now you try it, Ron."
"Full marks to Hermione Granger," said Moody, "and two points to Gryffindor for going first. Get on with it, class."
Harry reached for his wand and didn't find it. He patted himself and searched his robes, but it wasn't there. He saw Professor Moody's magical eye on him and said, "Er, I must have left my wand in my dorm. Hang on …"
"Go and get it," said Professor Moody. "Five points from Gryffindor." Most of his classmates gave him dirty looks as he left. Running up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, Harry felt distinctly uneasy. Ever since his wand had been stolen at the Quidditch World Cup last year, he had been quite careful with it, keeping it where only he could reach it easily and checking frequently to make sure he had it. He knew it had been in his robes when he had undressed for bed the night before. He searched his bed, his trunk, his night table, and the floor under them. No wand. He looked under the other four beds (finding Neville's pet toad, Trevor, under Seamus' bed, and almost mistaking it for a rat), examined the rest of the floor and the windowsills, and went through his belongings a second time. He descended the tower stairs, still keeping an eye out for his wand, and searched the Gryffindor common room to no avail. With a sinking heart, he returned to class, still scanning the floor as he went, but without much hope.
"Sorry," he panted to Moody when he got back, shaking his head to indicate that he hadn't found his wand.
"You'll have to share one with a classmate for now," growled Moody. "If you still can't find it, get a spare from Professor McGonagall."
Ron and Hermione covered for him for the remainder of the morning. After a hurried lunch he went with them to an empty classroom. Hermione peppered him with questions about when he had last seen his wand while she carefully examined his robes. Madam Malkin's robes were made with wand pockets on the inside front, one on each side. Right-handed wizards generally kept their wands in the left-hand pockets, and used the right-hand pockets for other small valuables they wanted to keep handy. Hermione turned back the left front of Harry's robes and said, "Look at this, Harry. Your wand pocket has a hole in it near the bottom. Your wand could have fallen out anywhere."
"Somebody at the laundry slipped up," said Ron. "The house-elves are supposed to keep all the robes in good repair."
"I know I had my wand last night," Harry insisted.
"Maybe it's in the Lost and Found," said Ron. "If it's not, we'll look wherever you've been since then. We have the weekend to search for it before you have to go back to Moody's class."
"I know an excellent wand-detecting charm," said Hermione. "Don't worry, Harry, we'll help you find it."
No one had turned in Harry's wand to the Lost and Found. The three of them (Neville begged off because he was behind in his homework) spent Friday after class and the greater part of Saturday and Sunday wandering around the school, Ron and Hermione pointing their wands wherever they could think of and chanting, "Virgindicate!" when the coast was clear. (Hogwarts students were forbidden to do magic in the corridors.) Hermione had the most success; by the time they gave up on Sunday so they could finish their homework, she had amassed an impressive collection of dusty, forgotten chopsticks, billiard cues, curtain rods, dueling swords, cigarette holders, walking sticks (some of which could still walk), umbrellas, knitting needles, broomsticks, flagpoles, and a couple of magic wands, neither of which was Harry's, and both bearing obvious marks of Chizpurfle infestation.
"Sorry, Harry," sighed Hermione, dumping her plunder in the Lost and Found box on top of a pile of torn and dirty robes. "Maybe someone will turn it in tomorrow, or announce at mealtime that they've found it. Otherwise you'll have to borrow an extra from Professor McGonagall."
"We're meeting at Hagrid's tomorrow," Harry reminded her. "We can think of a plan then." All of them avoided mentioning the more ominous possibilities that had occurred to them.
* * * * * * * *
Harry managed to get through his Monday classes still lacking his wand, though Moody did tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not to come to class the next day without one. It was almost with a sigh of relief that he settled into a chair at Hagrid's that afternoon. Surely if they all put their heads together, they could think of something. Ron and Hermione had come with him, and Ivy was already there. She was peering out the window, saying, "Neville might be a bit late. There was something he had to do …"
"He'll come in 'is own good time, Ivy," Hagrid told her. "Yeh won' hurry 'im by lookin' out fer 'im. Have some tea." Ivy sighed and approached the table, but didn't pick up the teapot. She looked down at it, frowning, apparently lost in thought, and came back to stand near the hearth, shivering a little.
"Are yeh cold, Ivy? I can put more wood on the fire," said Hagrid.
"No thanks, Hagrid," said Ivy. She reached into her robes, one hand at a time, and brought out two wands. Pointing one at Hermione and the other at Ron, she said, "/Accio/ wands!" and sure enough, their wands emerged from their robes and flew toward her. Hermione clutched her robes, but too late. Instead of catching them, Ivy commanded, "/Leviosa!/" and settled them on the mantelpiece, propped side by side against the wall. Ron jumped to his feet, yelling, "Ivy, what are you playing at?" But without pausing, Ivy passed both of the wands she held from side to side in the direction of the floor. "/Glutinate!/" she exclaimed, and Ron, finding his feet stuck to the floor, overbalanced and almost fell. Hermione yanked him back just in time and he collapsed into his chair. Ivy said, "/Glutinate!/" again, and added a second layer of invisible cement to the floor, immobilizing the feet and ankles of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid.
Hagrid's front door opened and Neville appeared. Behind him, holding Neville's arm twisted behind his back, came Draco Malfoy.
Draco shoved Neville across the floor and into the one remaining chair, tying him to it with a binding spell while Ivy added a third layer of cement around their captive audience. Draco looked around the cabin with a sneer. "What a dump," he said.
Hagrid said furiously, "I don't remember invitin' yeh here, Malfoy. Yeh'd better watch yer tongue." Ron lunged, managed to reach one of Hagrid's china mugs, and flung it at Malfoy, who dodged with Quidditch-trained reflexes to avoid the missile. The mug smashed to the left of the stone fireplace. "Temper, temper, Weasley," Malfoy admonished, swaggering over to Ron and standing just out of his reach, still on the part of the floor that was clear of Ivy's cement spell. "That'll get you in trouble one of these days."
"You'll get in even more trouble one of these days," Ron shot back.
"I can put down more cement, if necessary," Ivy warned, and did so. Harry prudently raised his arms from his sides to keep them free, still admiring Ivy's double Summoning Charm, which must have taken a great deal of practice.
"Well, Ivy, is everything set?" Malfoy asked, looking around and taking in the two wands on the mantelpiece. "Everyone disarmed and ready?"
"Everything's ready, Draco," Ivy replied with her little sideways smile. She placed the wand she held in her left hand next to the other two (it was Neville's), and put her own wand back into her robes.
"Will someone tell me what is going on?" Hermione demanded, sounding like a teacher walking into the middle of a food fight.
"Just sit tight and you'll see," said Ivy. "Can't do much else, can you?"
"Let's see what you've got, Ivy," said Malfoy, holding out his hand.
Ivy drew something out of her robes and held it up. Harry recognized his own wand. She passed it over to Malfoy, who stood holding it with a look of triumph.
Harry felt a wave of heat go through him. "I trusted you, Ivy," he said angrily.
"I don't recall asking you to trust me," returned Ivy coldly. "I distinctly remember telling you that I wasn't on your side."
"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted. "I thought I had to risk it."
"We hoped it was just a routine disclaimer. Fine print, you know," said Hermione.
"Don't ever ignore the fine print," said Ivy.
"I never trusted you, though, Malfoy," Harry said scornfully.
Malfoy folded his arms and slitted his pale eyes. "I never asked you to, either. Well, let's get on with it." He held up the wand again. "Potter's wand," he said slowly. "You'd like your wand back, wouldn't you, Potter?"
Harry didn't bother answering such a boneheaded question.
"Good news. You can have it back, Potter, on one condition." Malfoy gave Harry time to ask what condition, but again, Harry failed to oblige.
"You can have your wand back, Potter, on the condition that you solemnly swear /never to see Frank Longbottom again./"
Ron yelped in outrage. "What do you know about Frank Longbottom? Did Ivy tell you everything?"
"Not necessarily," said Neville, speaking for the first time. He looked white, but spoke with the calmness of despair. "He may be under orders from another source."
Malfoy gave Neville a look of hatred. "Why don't you stay out of this, Longbottom?"
"I'd like to," said Neville mildly, "but it's just a bit awkward."
"You should have stayed out of this, Malfoy," Ron spat.
"What do you say, Potter?" Malfoy resumed, as if he hadn't heard.
"Promise you'll never see Mad Longbottom again, and you can have your wand back, no questions asked."
"Why do you care if I see him?" Harry asked
"That's my business, Potter," Malfoy retorted. "So decide."
Harry looked steadily back at Malfoy. "No deal," he said.
"Oh, there's one little thing I forgot to mention," said Malfoy softly. "If you don't swear, I'll break your wand in pieces. I mean it, Potter."
"Would you really," said Harry in a skeptical tone.
"You just try me, Potter. You'd better promise, or you'll be sorry."
"No," said Harry.
Malfoy actually looked ever so slightly at a loss at this point. "You'll just sit there and watch me snap it in half right in front of you?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"I think you still don't believe me, Potter. But I really mean it."
"Fine. If you say so."
Still Malfoy hesitated. Breaking another student's wand was a serious offence. And there were witnesses. His eyes flickered over to Ivy, who nodded emphatically.
"All right, Saint Potter, if you're quite sure." He shrugged. "Though I don't know why you put so much stock in hanging around with someone who has all his screws loose."
Malfoy wasn't strong enough to break the wand with his two hands. It resisted his effort stoutly; it bent, but did not snap. He tried again without success, and Harry could feel the strain in his own body. His hands clenched as he watched.
Malfoy looked at the wand with new respect for its toughness. "What do you know, Potter, you still have a chance to save your precious wand." Although he tried to speak contemptuously, he sounded almost pleading.
But Harry, who years ago had refused to perjure himself, no, not even to prevent the smashing of Aunt Petunia's pudding and the risk of being expelled from Hogwarts, stood firm. He shook his head, his jaw set.
"Too weak and spineless to go through with it, Malfoy?" gloated Ron, laughing. "Harry's wand is stronger than you bargained for, huh?"
"Don't do it, lad," said Hagrid.
Malfoy's face twisted with fury. Finally he put his foot on one half of the wand and wrenched up the other end, and at length it gave way with a loud crack and a burst of crimson sparks. Harry felt a jolt of pain in his scar and saw a look of triumphant relief flash across Ivy's face. Malfoy placed the two halves of the wand together and broke it into four pieces, this time with ease, threw them to the floor and taunted, "Told you I'd pay back the favour you did me. Try putting that back together, Potter. I daresay some Spellotape will make it as good as new." His voice shook a little.
Ivy bent and swiftly scooped up the fragments. "Ever the hero, Harry Potter," she said, looking at him enigmatically. She cupped the pieces in her hand and picked out one—the tip. Handing it to Harry, she said, "You might want to keep this as a souvenir, Harry." He put it into his robes without a word, careful not to use the pocket that had let him down, even though Hermione had mended it for him.
Hagrid spoke. "Tha's the most shameful thing I've ever seen. Yeh'll be expelled for this," he said. "Both of yeh."
"I think not," said Ivy, looking brazenly back at him.
"You think not?" echoed Hermione blankly. "Why?"
"I'll show you," said Ivy. She looked up into the rafters of Hagrid's cabin. "Salazara!" she called, and the Runespoor appeared from the shadows above, dropping its black-and-orange coils and slithering down Ivy's upraised arm. Ivy stroked Salazara for a moment, then held the serpent's right head near Neville's neck. "A bite from the right head of a Runespoor is very dangerous and quite painful," she said. "It won't kill, but it causes mental aberrations. Even when the victim receives the antidote in time to restore him, his memory may never be quite the same again."
Hagrid and Ron tried to get up, but the invisible cement held them fast.
Neville had turned pale green. He whispered, "My memory's not all that good to start with."
Malfoy said, "All of you must swear to say nothing about what just happened here to anyone else, or Longbottom here will get bitten. The results might be quite—unfortunate."
Ivy added, "And if by any chance the word does leak out, Salazara will find him, perhaps at night …"
"Don't any of you promise any such thing," Neville tried to sound convincing. "Don't worry about me; I'll be okay."
"/No,/" said Harry angrily. "We won't let you get bitten, Neville. We won't tell. Though I don't know how you can do this, Ivy. You saw the Longbottoms yourself."
"I agree," said Hermione. "We won't tell. But that doesn't mean you won't get found out."
"No, it doesn't," agreed Ivy. "But it helps. Do you agree not to tell, Ron and Hagrid?"
Both of them nodded reluctantly, their eyes riveted to Neville's sickly face and Salazara's long, sharp fangs. Ron snarled, "At least until we capture that bloody snake of yours."
"Fair enough. But it won't happen," said Ivy, and then, "Good. I think we're finished here." She put Salazara down, and the Runespoor slithered up the wall and found a window, open just a crack, by which to leave.
Malfoy looked at his co-conspirator in a satisfied way. "You've done well, Ivy," he said with a hint of condescension. But he seemed nervous.
"Oh, I've behaved beautifully," she told him. "I've swallowed insults to Uncle Severus, Slytherin, and you as if I didn't even hear them. I've been sweet, friendly, and helpful."
Malfoy looked at his watch. "Well, got to go. I've a Quidditch practice in five minutes. See you." He departed in a hurry, leaving Ivy to finish up and face the music.
"Ivy Parkinson," said Hagrid, "before yeh go I've somethin' ter say ter yeh."
Ivy looked back at Hagrid, her eyebrows raised in cool, polite inquiry.
"If Neville here does get a Runespoor bite," Hagrid continued, "and if by any chance yeh don' get expelled fer it, I'll have ter give yeh a failin' mark in Care of Magical Creatures. Settin' a magical creature against a feller student—can't allow that, yeh know." He shook his head. "Have to take a lot of points from Slytherin too."
"I understand, Hagrid. I hope it won't come to that," said Ivy quietly.
Hagrid's eyes flashed. "Still threatenin' me, are yeh?" he rasped. "Even if yeh don't carry out yer threat—I dunno if I can pass yeh, Ivy. Goes against everythin' Hogwarts stands fer. And I'll have ter ask yeh ter keep Salazara outer my way—if I see her I dunno what I migh' do. She's not welcome here any more, and yer not either, Ivy. I don't like the way yeh've repaid my hospitality. And never," his voice rose almost to a roar, "/never bring that Malfoy here again!/"
"I won't. It won't be necessary," said Ivy a little faintly, but still with her chin up. She turned to go without another word. Harry, looking closely, could see that she was trembling. At the door she turned back for a moment, raising her wand. "Dissolute!" she said, and was gone.
Harry, trying to move his feet, found that the the invisible cement yielded a little to his efforts. "We'll be free in a few minutes," said Hermione, also testing her freedom of movement. They sat in stunned silence, waiting for the spell to wear off.
Neville said, "Er, Harry, thanks for saving me from Salazara's fangs. I didn't really want you to let her bite me." He gulped. "I was just pretending."
"I know," said Harry. "You're not the only one."
"Harry's a tough act to follow," said Ron. "But you held your end up, Neville. Say, I think I can move …" He stood up, appeared to wade a few steps through peanut butter, and then reached the unaffected part of the floor. "That's more like it." Harry and Hermione found that they could follow his example. Hermione collected the wands from the mantelpiece, returned them to their owners, and unbound Neville from his chair. He stood up shakily.
"Harry, Neville, yeh've both done yerselves proud," said Hagrid, "but I'll have ter ask all of yeh ter go now, before I say somethin' I migh' regret. Sorry."
"I don't think any of us is ready to talk about this yet," said Hermione. "Could we come back in a couple of days, say, Wednesday?"
"Sure," said Hagrid dispiritedly. "Long as yeh don't bring any Slytherins with yeh," he grumbled. "I feel a righ' fool," he added. "Feel like I been watchin' a ruddy play. An' I don' like the way it came out."
* * * * * * * *
Harry knew the next thing he had to do. He had put it off long enough. Professor McGonagall looked at him sharply through her spectacles when he presented himself at her office and told her what he needed. "Potter," she said, "do you have any idea what happened to your wand? I assume you've searched for it thoroughly."
"I found a hole in my wand pocket," said Harry, truthfully enough.
McGonagall's brow puckered as she rummaged in a drawer for spare wands left over from a seventh-year wand-making class. "Those pockets are magically reinforced. They shouldn't go into holes. Potter, if you suspect that your wand has been stolen, you should tell me. This is a very serious matter."
"I understand that, Professor," Harry said wearily. He chose one of the wands and tried it out. He turned Professor McGonagall's hair green, orange, and back to black again. It worked well enough, but he was sure he could never conjure a Patronus with it. He paid the two-sickle deposit and pocketed the wand.
"I won't make a public announcement about this, if you would rather I didn't, Potter," she told him, "but I will notify the faculty and the prefects. If your wand hasn't turned up after another week or two, I will have to make inquiries. I cannot let this pass."
Harry resigned himself to the whole school finding out that his wand was missing. So far it had been common knowledge only among the Gryffindor fifth-years, and out of house loyalty they had kept it within Gryffindor. Now he would face both sympathy and gloating from the other houses—one of the prices of fame. If it had been Ron or Neville, nobody would care.
During the next few days, every time he reached for his wand without thinking and came up with the substitute wand instead of his own, Harry was forced to remember that his wand was not just missing, but broken. But his mind kept rejecting that knowledge; he couldn't take it in.
* * * * * * * *
On Wednesday when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went back to Hagrid's, they were still in a state of shock. Ivy had turned the tables so suddenly and completely; they still weren't sure it had really happened.
"I'd never ha' believed it o' her. She seemed like such a nice little thing," mourned Hagrid. "Took such good care o' her Runespoor an' all—"
"Hagrid, don't take on. She's a Slytherin. She can't help herself." But Ron's voice was bitter. "And on top of that, she's Malfoy's girlfriend. She can really play chess, though," he said wistfully, then growled, "She plays like a Slytherin. What else could you expect? Why were we so trusting?"
"Ron, you might as well say I told you so and be done with it," said Hermione.
"But I still thought better o' her," Hagrid insisted. "I don't know wha' she sees in that Malfoy, an' tha's a fact."
"You're missing Salazara, too, aren't you," said Hermione, and Hagrid nodded sadly.
"She used to keep Fang and me company of an evenin'," he remembered.
"Maybe we could really capture her," Ron speculated, his eyes gleaming. "Wouldn't it be super? Neville would be out of danger, and I could stand up on the Gryffindor table and make an announcement. 'Guess who broke Harry's wand? Guess who's in BIG trouble?'"
"How would you go about it?" Hermione asked. "Salazara's probably in the Forbidden Forest somewhere, and she'd probably see you before you saw her."
"I'll let you know when I've worked out the details," said Ron loftily. "There's got to be some way to do it. A snake-detecting charm or something. Or we could use Malfoy as bait. Except that she probably wouldn't touch him, he's so disgusting."
"Neville, you said something about Malfoy being under orders from a different source," Hermione recalled. "What was that about?"
"Harry and I were going to tell you about that," said Neville.
"It must have slipped our minds," added Harry, a little sarcastically. "Gran came to tell us about Dad getting a visit from Lucius Malfoy," said Neville.
"Not really?" said Ron. "Somehow I can't see that scum bucket making sickbed visits."
"Really," said Neville. He proceeded to tell them just what he, Harry, and Dumbledore had heard from his Gran.
"And this happened when?" pursued Hermione.
"Thursday morning," Neville replied.
"And Harry's wand went missing the very next day," said Hermione.
Ron whistled. "What do you bet that the old git sent a message to his boy saying, 'Stop that Potter from helping Mad Longbottom He's going to ruin everything.' He and Ivy put their heads together, and the rest is history."
"I feel a righ' fool," Hagrid said again. "It's my fault fer lettin' things get as far as this. I should've never agreed to help Ivy keep that Runespoor in the firs' place."
"But if you had it to do over, you'd probably do the same thing," Hermione pointed out.
Hagrid sighed ruefully. "I can't resist them magical creatures," he said. "I'm not generally all that fond of snakes, not speakin' their laguage as yeh migh' say, but I always wished I could have a Runespoor, they're so unusual. Maybe I've learned me lesson."
To Harry, hearing Hagrid say that was almost worse than losing his wand. A Hagrid cured of his taste for dangerous pets didn't bear thinking about.
The sky was growing dark as the four Gryffindor students emerged slowly and dejectedly from Hagrid's front door. Harry looked over at Hagrid's garden in the deepening dusk, feeling as dead and dried-out as the shriveled remains of the pumpkin vines. A grey, smoky shadow drifted above the decaying vegetation. Something familiar about it arrested Harry's attention. It looked like— Harry gripped Hermione's arm.
"Do you see that?" he whispered. "In Hagrid's garden."
Hermione, Neville, and Ron all looked where he was pointing. "It looks like a ghost," said Hermione, "but not any of the ones we know from Hogwarts."
"Don't you know who it is?" Harry asked. He took a few steps toward the garden, and the rest followed doubtfully.
The ghost drifted nearer to them, and they could see his precisely parted grey hair and neatly trimmed toothbrush mustache. Ron exclaimed under his breath, "Harry, it's Mr. Crouch!"
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AN: This is one of the places where I had to correct a mistake. I had mentioned Crouch Seniorlater in the story as if he were still alive, and my daughter immediately fired me an e-mail saying, "Mommy, Mr. Crouch is dead!" Um ... oops. Yeah. So I decided to put in his ghost.
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Chapter 10: Holly and Phoenix Feather
On Friday morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts class Professor Moody was teaching them how to check their food and drink for poison. They were practicing a spell designed to reveal the presence of snake venom. The professor had prepared two small dishes of beef stew for each of them, one of which was contaminated with bubotuber pus, a safer substitute that would make them ill but not kill them if they ate it. Hermione had good reason to respect even the lesser power of the plant extract, which had burned her fingers badly in an unfortunate hate-mail encounter. "The spell works just as well on bubotuber pus, which I've mixed with a small amount of Clabbert pus," Moody assured them. "If you do it correctly, the tampered dish should show a flashing red light, as Clabbert pustules do in the presence of danger. To get full marks for this you must take at least one bite of the stew you judge to be uncontaminated." Hermione looked worried at this, but she squared her shoulders, waved her wand at one of the dishes in front of her, and exclaimed, "Venomonstrate!" The stew remained unchanged. But the other dish, under the same treatment, flashed an imposing blinking red beacon.
"Let's see you give it the acid test, Hermione," said Ron with interest. "I dare you."
Hermione gave him a defiant look and took a heaping spoonful of the stew that had come up negative. She chewed, swallowed, and smiled. "Delicious. Now you try it, Ron."
"Full marks to Hermione Granger," said Moody, "and two points to Gryffindor for going first. Get on with it, class."
Harry reached for his wand and didn't find it. He patted himself and searched his robes, but it wasn't there. He saw Professor Moody's magical eye on him and said, "Er, I must have left my wand in my dorm. Hang on …"
"Go and get it," said Professor Moody. "Five points from Gryffindor." Most of his classmates gave him dirty looks as he left. Running up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower, Harry felt distinctly uneasy. Ever since his wand had been stolen at the Quidditch World Cup last year, he had been quite careful with it, keeping it where only he could reach it easily and checking frequently to make sure he had it. He knew it had been in his robes when he had undressed for bed the night before. He searched his bed, his trunk, his night table, and the floor under them. No wand. He looked under the other four beds (finding Neville's pet toad, Trevor, under Seamus' bed, and almost mistaking it for a rat), examined the rest of the floor and the windowsills, and went through his belongings a second time. He descended the tower stairs, still keeping an eye out for his wand, and searched the Gryffindor common room to no avail. With a sinking heart, he returned to class, still scanning the floor as he went, but without much hope.
"Sorry," he panted to Moody when he got back, shaking his head to indicate that he hadn't found his wand.
"You'll have to share one with a classmate for now," growled Moody. "If you still can't find it, get a spare from Professor McGonagall."
Ron and Hermione covered for him for the remainder of the morning. After a hurried lunch he went with them to an empty classroom. Hermione peppered him with questions about when he had last seen his wand while she carefully examined his robes. Madam Malkin's robes were made with wand pockets on the inside front, one on each side. Right-handed wizards generally kept their wands in the left-hand pockets, and used the right-hand pockets for other small valuables they wanted to keep handy. Hermione turned back the left front of Harry's robes and said, "Look at this, Harry. Your wand pocket has a hole in it near the bottom. Your wand could have fallen out anywhere."
"Somebody at the laundry slipped up," said Ron. "The house-elves are supposed to keep all the robes in good repair."
"I know I had my wand last night," Harry insisted.
"Maybe it's in the Lost and Found," said Ron. "If it's not, we'll look wherever you've been since then. We have the weekend to search for it before you have to go back to Moody's class."
"I know an excellent wand-detecting charm," said Hermione. "Don't worry, Harry, we'll help you find it."
No one had turned in Harry's wand to the Lost and Found. The three of them (Neville begged off because he was behind in his homework) spent Friday after class and the greater part of Saturday and Sunday wandering around the school, Ron and Hermione pointing their wands wherever they could think of and chanting, "Virgindicate!" when the coast was clear. (Hogwarts students were forbidden to do magic in the corridors.) Hermione had the most success; by the time they gave up on Sunday so they could finish their homework, she had amassed an impressive collection of dusty, forgotten chopsticks, billiard cues, curtain rods, dueling swords, cigarette holders, walking sticks (some of which could still walk), umbrellas, knitting needles, broomsticks, flagpoles, and a couple of magic wands, neither of which was Harry's, and both bearing obvious marks of Chizpurfle infestation.
"Sorry, Harry," sighed Hermione, dumping her plunder in the Lost and Found box on top of a pile of torn and dirty robes. "Maybe someone will turn it in tomorrow, or announce at mealtime that they've found it. Otherwise you'll have to borrow an extra from Professor McGonagall."
"We're meeting at Hagrid's tomorrow," Harry reminded her. "We can think of a plan then." All of them avoided mentioning the more ominous possibilities that had occurred to them.
* * * * * * * *
Harry managed to get through his Monday classes still lacking his wand, though Moody did tell him in no uncertain terms that he was not to come to class the next day without one. It was almost with a sigh of relief that he settled into a chair at Hagrid's that afternoon. Surely if they all put their heads together, they could think of something. Ron and Hermione had come with him, and Ivy was already there. She was peering out the window, saying, "Neville might be a bit late. There was something he had to do …"
"He'll come in 'is own good time, Ivy," Hagrid told her. "Yeh won' hurry 'im by lookin' out fer 'im. Have some tea." Ivy sighed and approached the table, but didn't pick up the teapot. She looked down at it, frowning, apparently lost in thought, and came back to stand near the hearth, shivering a little.
"Are yeh cold, Ivy? I can put more wood on the fire," said Hagrid.
"No thanks, Hagrid," said Ivy. She reached into her robes, one hand at a time, and brought out two wands. Pointing one at Hermione and the other at Ron, she said, "/Accio/ wands!" and sure enough, their wands emerged from their robes and flew toward her. Hermione clutched her robes, but too late. Instead of catching them, Ivy commanded, "/Leviosa!/" and settled them on the mantelpiece, propped side by side against the wall. Ron jumped to his feet, yelling, "Ivy, what are you playing at?" But without pausing, Ivy passed both of the wands she held from side to side in the direction of the floor. "/Glutinate!/" she exclaimed, and Ron, finding his feet stuck to the floor, overbalanced and almost fell. Hermione yanked him back just in time and he collapsed into his chair. Ivy said, "/Glutinate!/" again, and added a second layer of invisible cement to the floor, immobilizing the feet and ankles of Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid.
Hagrid's front door opened and Neville appeared. Behind him, holding Neville's arm twisted behind his back, came Draco Malfoy.
Draco shoved Neville across the floor and into the one remaining chair, tying him to it with a binding spell while Ivy added a third layer of cement around their captive audience. Draco looked around the cabin with a sneer. "What a dump," he said.
Hagrid said furiously, "I don't remember invitin' yeh here, Malfoy. Yeh'd better watch yer tongue." Ron lunged, managed to reach one of Hagrid's china mugs, and flung it at Malfoy, who dodged with Quidditch-trained reflexes to avoid the missile. The mug smashed to the left of the stone fireplace. "Temper, temper, Weasley," Malfoy admonished, swaggering over to Ron and standing just out of his reach, still on the part of the floor that was clear of Ivy's cement spell. "That'll get you in trouble one of these days."
"You'll get in even more trouble one of these days," Ron shot back.
"I can put down more cement, if necessary," Ivy warned, and did so. Harry prudently raised his arms from his sides to keep them free, still admiring Ivy's double Summoning Charm, which must have taken a great deal of practice.
"Well, Ivy, is everything set?" Malfoy asked, looking around and taking in the two wands on the mantelpiece. "Everyone disarmed and ready?"
"Everything's ready, Draco," Ivy replied with her little sideways smile. She placed the wand she held in her left hand next to the other two (it was Neville's), and put her own wand back into her robes.
"Will someone tell me what is going on?" Hermione demanded, sounding like a teacher walking into the middle of a food fight.
"Just sit tight and you'll see," said Ivy. "Can't do much else, can you?"
"Let's see what you've got, Ivy," said Malfoy, holding out his hand.
Ivy drew something out of her robes and held it up. Harry recognized his own wand. She passed it over to Malfoy, who stood holding it with a look of triumph.
Harry felt a wave of heat go through him. "I trusted you, Ivy," he said angrily.
"I don't recall asking you to trust me," returned Ivy coldly. "I distinctly remember telling you that I wasn't on your side."
"Yeah, I know," Harry admitted. "I thought I had to risk it."
"We hoped it was just a routine disclaimer. Fine print, you know," said Hermione.
"Don't ever ignore the fine print," said Ivy.
"I never trusted you, though, Malfoy," Harry said scornfully.
Malfoy folded his arms and slitted his pale eyes. "I never asked you to, either. Well, let's get on with it." He held up the wand again. "Potter's wand," he said slowly. "You'd like your wand back, wouldn't you, Potter?"
Harry didn't bother answering such a boneheaded question.
"Good news. You can have it back, Potter, on one condition." Malfoy gave Harry time to ask what condition, but again, Harry failed to oblige.
"You can have your wand back, Potter, on the condition that you solemnly swear /never to see Frank Longbottom again./"
Ron yelped in outrage. "What do you know about Frank Longbottom? Did Ivy tell you everything?"
"Not necessarily," said Neville, speaking for the first time. He looked white, but spoke with the calmness of despair. "He may be under orders from another source."
Malfoy gave Neville a look of hatred. "Why don't you stay out of this, Longbottom?"
"I'd like to," said Neville mildly, "but it's just a bit awkward."
"You should have stayed out of this, Malfoy," Ron spat.
"What do you say, Potter?" Malfoy resumed, as if he hadn't heard.
"Promise you'll never see Mad Longbottom again, and you can have your wand back, no questions asked."
"Why do you care if I see him?" Harry asked
"That's my business, Potter," Malfoy retorted. "So decide."
Harry looked steadily back at Malfoy. "No deal," he said.
"Oh, there's one little thing I forgot to mention," said Malfoy softly. "If you don't swear, I'll break your wand in pieces. I mean it, Potter."
"Would you really," said Harry in a skeptical tone.
"You just try me, Potter. You'd better promise, or you'll be sorry."
"No," said Harry.
Malfoy actually looked ever so slightly at a loss at this point. "You'll just sit there and watch me snap it in half right in front of you?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"I think you still don't believe me, Potter. But I really mean it."
"Fine. If you say so."
Still Malfoy hesitated. Breaking another student's wand was a serious offence. And there were witnesses. His eyes flickered over to Ivy, who nodded emphatically.
"All right, Saint Potter, if you're quite sure." He shrugged. "Though I don't know why you put so much stock in hanging around with someone who has all his screws loose."
Malfoy wasn't strong enough to break the wand with his two hands. It resisted his effort stoutly; it bent, but did not snap. He tried again without success, and Harry could feel the strain in his own body. His hands clenched as he watched.
Malfoy looked at the wand with new respect for its toughness. "What do you know, Potter, you still have a chance to save your precious wand." Although he tried to speak contemptuously, he sounded almost pleading.
But Harry, who years ago had refused to perjure himself, no, not even to prevent the smashing of Aunt Petunia's pudding and the risk of being expelled from Hogwarts, stood firm. He shook his head, his jaw set.
"Too weak and spineless to go through with it, Malfoy?" gloated Ron, laughing. "Harry's wand is stronger than you bargained for, huh?"
"Don't do it, lad," said Hagrid.
Malfoy's face twisted with fury. Finally he put his foot on one half of the wand and wrenched up the other end, and at length it gave way with a loud crack and a burst of crimson sparks. Harry felt a jolt of pain in his scar and saw a look of triumphant relief flash across Ivy's face. Malfoy placed the two halves of the wand together and broke it into four pieces, this time with ease, threw them to the floor and taunted, "Told you I'd pay back the favour you did me. Try putting that back together, Potter. I daresay some Spellotape will make it as good as new." His voice shook a little.
Ivy bent and swiftly scooped up the fragments. "Ever the hero, Harry Potter," she said, looking at him enigmatically. She cupped the pieces in her hand and picked out one—the tip. Handing it to Harry, she said, "You might want to keep this as a souvenir, Harry." He put it into his robes without a word, careful not to use the pocket that had let him down, even though Hermione had mended it for him.
Hagrid spoke. "Tha's the most shameful thing I've ever seen. Yeh'll be expelled for this," he said. "Both of yeh."
"I think not," said Ivy, looking brazenly back at him.
"You think not?" echoed Hermione blankly. "Why?"
"I'll show you," said Ivy. She looked up into the rafters of Hagrid's cabin. "Salazara!" she called, and the Runespoor appeared from the shadows above, dropping its black-and-orange coils and slithering down Ivy's upraised arm. Ivy stroked Salazara for a moment, then held the serpent's right head near Neville's neck. "A bite from the right head of a Runespoor is very dangerous and quite painful," she said. "It won't kill, but it causes mental aberrations. Even when the victim receives the antidote in time to restore him, his memory may never be quite the same again."
Hagrid and Ron tried to get up, but the invisible cement held them fast.
Neville had turned pale green. He whispered, "My memory's not all that good to start with."
Malfoy said, "All of you must swear to say nothing about what just happened here to anyone else, or Longbottom here will get bitten. The results might be quite—unfortunate."
Ivy added, "And if by any chance the word does leak out, Salazara will find him, perhaps at night …"
"Don't any of you promise any such thing," Neville tried to sound convincing. "Don't worry about me; I'll be okay."
"/No,/" said Harry angrily. "We won't let you get bitten, Neville. We won't tell. Though I don't know how you can do this, Ivy. You saw the Longbottoms yourself."
"I agree," said Hermione. "We won't tell. But that doesn't mean you won't get found out."
"No, it doesn't," agreed Ivy. "But it helps. Do you agree not to tell, Ron and Hagrid?"
Both of them nodded reluctantly, their eyes riveted to Neville's sickly face and Salazara's long, sharp fangs. Ron snarled, "At least until we capture that bloody snake of yours."
"Fair enough. But it won't happen," said Ivy, and then, "Good. I think we're finished here." She put Salazara down, and the Runespoor slithered up the wall and found a window, open just a crack, by which to leave.
Malfoy looked at his co-conspirator in a satisfied way. "You've done well, Ivy," he said with a hint of condescension. But he seemed nervous.
"Oh, I've behaved beautifully," she told him. "I've swallowed insults to Uncle Severus, Slytherin, and you as if I didn't even hear them. I've been sweet, friendly, and helpful."
Malfoy looked at his watch. "Well, got to go. I've a Quidditch practice in five minutes. See you." He departed in a hurry, leaving Ivy to finish up and face the music.
"Ivy Parkinson," said Hagrid, "before yeh go I've somethin' ter say ter yeh."
Ivy looked back at Hagrid, her eyebrows raised in cool, polite inquiry.
"If Neville here does get a Runespoor bite," Hagrid continued, "and if by any chance yeh don' get expelled fer it, I'll have ter give yeh a failin' mark in Care of Magical Creatures. Settin' a magical creature against a feller student—can't allow that, yeh know." He shook his head. "Have to take a lot of points from Slytherin too."
"I understand, Hagrid. I hope it won't come to that," said Ivy quietly.
Hagrid's eyes flashed. "Still threatenin' me, are yeh?" he rasped. "Even if yeh don't carry out yer threat—I dunno if I can pass yeh, Ivy. Goes against everythin' Hogwarts stands fer. And I'll have ter ask yeh ter keep Salazara outer my way—if I see her I dunno what I migh' do. She's not welcome here any more, and yer not either, Ivy. I don't like the way yeh've repaid my hospitality. And never," his voice rose almost to a roar, "/never bring that Malfoy here again!/"
"I won't. It won't be necessary," said Ivy a little faintly, but still with her chin up. She turned to go without another word. Harry, looking closely, could see that she was trembling. At the door she turned back for a moment, raising her wand. "Dissolute!" she said, and was gone.
Harry, trying to move his feet, found that the the invisible cement yielded a little to his efforts. "We'll be free in a few minutes," said Hermione, also testing her freedom of movement. They sat in stunned silence, waiting for the spell to wear off.
Neville said, "Er, Harry, thanks for saving me from Salazara's fangs. I didn't really want you to let her bite me." He gulped. "I was just pretending."
"I know," said Harry. "You're not the only one."
"Harry's a tough act to follow," said Ron. "But you held your end up, Neville. Say, I think I can move …" He stood up, appeared to wade a few steps through peanut butter, and then reached the unaffected part of the floor. "That's more like it." Harry and Hermione found that they could follow his example. Hermione collected the wands from the mantelpiece, returned them to their owners, and unbound Neville from his chair. He stood up shakily.
"Harry, Neville, yeh've both done yerselves proud," said Hagrid, "but I'll have ter ask all of yeh ter go now, before I say somethin' I migh' regret. Sorry."
"I don't think any of us is ready to talk about this yet," said Hermione. "Could we come back in a couple of days, say, Wednesday?"
"Sure," said Hagrid dispiritedly. "Long as yeh don't bring any Slytherins with yeh," he grumbled. "I feel a righ' fool," he added. "Feel like I been watchin' a ruddy play. An' I don' like the way it came out."
* * * * * * * *
Harry knew the next thing he had to do. He had put it off long enough. Professor McGonagall looked at him sharply through her spectacles when he presented himself at her office and told her what he needed. "Potter," she said, "do you have any idea what happened to your wand? I assume you've searched for it thoroughly."
"I found a hole in my wand pocket," said Harry, truthfully enough.
McGonagall's brow puckered as she rummaged in a drawer for spare wands left over from a seventh-year wand-making class. "Those pockets are magically reinforced. They shouldn't go into holes. Potter, if you suspect that your wand has been stolen, you should tell me. This is a very serious matter."
"I understand that, Professor," Harry said wearily. He chose one of the wands and tried it out. He turned Professor McGonagall's hair green, orange, and back to black again. It worked well enough, but he was sure he could never conjure a Patronus with it. He paid the two-sickle deposit and pocketed the wand.
"I won't make a public announcement about this, if you would rather I didn't, Potter," she told him, "but I will notify the faculty and the prefects. If your wand hasn't turned up after another week or two, I will have to make inquiries. I cannot let this pass."
Harry resigned himself to the whole school finding out that his wand was missing. So far it had been common knowledge only among the Gryffindor fifth-years, and out of house loyalty they had kept it within Gryffindor. Now he would face both sympathy and gloating from the other houses—one of the prices of fame. If it had been Ron or Neville, nobody would care.
During the next few days, every time he reached for his wand without thinking and came up with the substitute wand instead of his own, Harry was forced to remember that his wand was not just missing, but broken. But his mind kept rejecting that knowledge; he couldn't take it in.
* * * * * * * *
On Wednesday when Harry, Ron, Hermione and Neville went back to Hagrid's, they were still in a state of shock. Ivy had turned the tables so suddenly and completely; they still weren't sure it had really happened.
"I'd never ha' believed it o' her. She seemed like such a nice little thing," mourned Hagrid. "Took such good care o' her Runespoor an' all—"
"Hagrid, don't take on. She's a Slytherin. She can't help herself." But Ron's voice was bitter. "And on top of that, she's Malfoy's girlfriend. She can really play chess, though," he said wistfully, then growled, "She plays like a Slytherin. What else could you expect? Why were we so trusting?"
"Ron, you might as well say I told you so and be done with it," said Hermione.
"But I still thought better o' her," Hagrid insisted. "I don't know wha' she sees in that Malfoy, an' tha's a fact."
"You're missing Salazara, too, aren't you," said Hermione, and Hagrid nodded sadly.
"She used to keep Fang and me company of an evenin'," he remembered.
"Maybe we could really capture her," Ron speculated, his eyes gleaming. "Wouldn't it be super? Neville would be out of danger, and I could stand up on the Gryffindor table and make an announcement. 'Guess who broke Harry's wand? Guess who's in BIG trouble?'"
"How would you go about it?" Hermione asked. "Salazara's probably in the Forbidden Forest somewhere, and she'd probably see you before you saw her."
"I'll let you know when I've worked out the details," said Ron loftily. "There's got to be some way to do it. A snake-detecting charm or something. Or we could use Malfoy as bait. Except that she probably wouldn't touch him, he's so disgusting."
"Neville, you said something about Malfoy being under orders from a different source," Hermione recalled. "What was that about?"
"Harry and I were going to tell you about that," said Neville.
"It must have slipped our minds," added Harry, a little sarcastically. "Gran came to tell us about Dad getting a visit from Lucius Malfoy," said Neville.
"Not really?" said Ron. "Somehow I can't see that scum bucket making sickbed visits."
"Really," said Neville. He proceeded to tell them just what he, Harry, and Dumbledore had heard from his Gran.
"And this happened when?" pursued Hermione.
"Thursday morning," Neville replied.
"And Harry's wand went missing the very next day," said Hermione.
Ron whistled. "What do you bet that the old git sent a message to his boy saying, 'Stop that Potter from helping Mad Longbottom He's going to ruin everything.' He and Ivy put their heads together, and the rest is history."
"I feel a righ' fool," Hagrid said again. "It's my fault fer lettin' things get as far as this. I should've never agreed to help Ivy keep that Runespoor in the firs' place."
"But if you had it to do over, you'd probably do the same thing," Hermione pointed out.
Hagrid sighed ruefully. "I can't resist them magical creatures," he said. "I'm not generally all that fond of snakes, not speakin' their laguage as yeh migh' say, but I always wished I could have a Runespoor, they're so unusual. Maybe I've learned me lesson."
To Harry, hearing Hagrid say that was almost worse than losing his wand. A Hagrid cured of his taste for dangerous pets didn't bear thinking about.
The sky was growing dark as the four Gryffindor students emerged slowly and dejectedly from Hagrid's front door. Harry looked over at Hagrid's garden in the deepening dusk, feeling as dead and dried-out as the shriveled remains of the pumpkin vines. A grey, smoky shadow drifted above the decaying vegetation. Something familiar about it arrested Harry's attention. It looked like— Harry gripped Hermione's arm.
"Do you see that?" he whispered. "In Hagrid's garden."
Hermione, Neville, and Ron all looked where he was pointing. "It looks like a ghost," said Hermione, "but not any of the ones we know from Hogwarts."
"Don't you know who it is?" Harry asked. He took a few steps toward the garden, and the rest followed doubtfully.
The ghost drifted nearer to them, and they could see his precisely parted grey hair and neatly trimmed toothbrush mustache. Ron exclaimed under his breath, "Harry, it's Mr. Crouch!"
*********************
AN: This is one of the places where I had to correct a mistake. I had mentioned Crouch Seniorlater in the story as if he were still alive, and my daughter immediately fired me an e-mail saying, "Mommy, Mr. Crouch is dead!" Um ... oops. Yeah. So I decided to put in his ghost.