Chapter Three
Almost nothing could prepare me for the shock I recieved upon my arrival at the school.
Whilst the children were going about various ways, some with a large hairy man and the others in thestral-drawn coaches, I stood out of the way and wondered if I too should board a coach when I felt a presence behind me.
I turned around, and there he was, the greasy jerk from my short gig at the Potions shop.
He was dressed all in black now, with a two-tiered cape and a high collar, his curtain of oily black hair down around that pale, yellowed face. His black eyes glinted in the scant torchlight from the coaches, and I saw that he, too, recognised me.
I ran a hand through my hair nervously. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked.
"I was going to ask you the same question, though not in the same vulgarly American way." He sneered.
"I happen to be a substitute teacher here, thank you very much"
The little colour that was in his face drained away. "You"
"Yes, me"
"And I suppose you have the assignment helping the Potions Master"
"I'm quite looking forward to it"
He gritted his teeth and grabbed me harshly by the upper arm. Rave, sitting on that shoulder, cursed at him in a birdlike way and pecked at his skeletal hand.
"Hey! Where are you taking me?" I struggled against his hand, which only tightened harder. "I swear to God, I'll Avada your ass." I hissed. He stopped short.
"Look, you dunderhead, I'm taking you to the castle, alright? And then we're going to meet with the Headmaster before the Welcoming feast and get this whole mess sorted out"
"What whole mess"
He just pulled me on. We walked the trail a little ways until we came to a spot under a tree, where stood two horses, a tall black warmblood and an even taller roan Thoroughbred. "You CAN ride, can't you"
"Of COURSE I can ride, I'm American"
"Yes, but can you handle an English saddle?" He pointed to the ratty looking one atop the enourmous Thoroughbred.
"Quite easily, thank you." I mounted deftly. "Where are my bags, by the way"
"They're being taken care of." The man grunted, swinging his leg over his mount's back. "Though I don't know why, as you wont be here very long"
"We'll see about that." I spat. I took Rave on my fist as the gelding beneath me shifted impatiently. "Fly to the castle, Rave." I stated and he bounded off my hand. The horse I was riding spooked and reared, and I handled it beautifully, not missing a beat. I saw the man glare at me and kick his horse into a gallup. I followed suit. The gelding beneath me took a flying start, Kentucky Derby-worthy, and I rode him easily, taking off behind the Warmblood down the path. We started at the end of the carriages, but were soon overtaking them. The man was barely in front of me. I clicked to my mount and reached behind me, smacking his flank. He surged forward and soon we overtook the Warmblood. The horse may not have been as pretty or as nicely equipped as the Warmblood, but he was taller and faster. I saw beside me in a blur as children's heads popped out of the carriage windows to watch the scene. I barely caught a glimpse of Harry Potter, who had a strange look on his face. The Warmblood was gaining on us again and I started to pay attention. I was determined to show this man up, whoever he was. I was a little too focused on speed, however, and in the dark a large log lying on the ground appeared in the path beside the carriages. I slowed my mount down, but he was still going too fast as he approached the hazard. I don't know exactly what happened, but the next time I was conscious I was staring at the ceiling of the school casualty unit.
Whilst the children were going about various ways, some with a large hairy man and the others in thestral-drawn coaches, I stood out of the way and wondered if I too should board a coach when I felt a presence behind me.
I turned around, and there he was, the greasy jerk from my short gig at the Potions shop.
He was dressed all in black now, with a two-tiered cape and a high collar, his curtain of oily black hair down around that pale, yellowed face. His black eyes glinted in the scant torchlight from the coaches, and I saw that he, too, recognised me.
I ran a hand through my hair nervously. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked.
"I was going to ask you the same question, though not in the same vulgarly American way." He sneered.
"I happen to be a substitute teacher here, thank you very much"
The little colour that was in his face drained away. "You"
"Yes, me"
"And I suppose you have the assignment helping the Potions Master"
"I'm quite looking forward to it"
He gritted his teeth and grabbed me harshly by the upper arm. Rave, sitting on that shoulder, cursed at him in a birdlike way and pecked at his skeletal hand.
"Hey! Where are you taking me?" I struggled against his hand, which only tightened harder. "I swear to God, I'll Avada your ass." I hissed. He stopped short.
"Look, you dunderhead, I'm taking you to the castle, alright? And then we're going to meet with the Headmaster before the Welcoming feast and get this whole mess sorted out"
"What whole mess"
He just pulled me on. We walked the trail a little ways until we came to a spot under a tree, where stood two horses, a tall black warmblood and an even taller roan Thoroughbred. "You CAN ride, can't you"
"Of COURSE I can ride, I'm American"
"Yes, but can you handle an English saddle?" He pointed to the ratty looking one atop the enourmous Thoroughbred.
"Quite easily, thank you." I mounted deftly. "Where are my bags, by the way"
"They're being taken care of." The man grunted, swinging his leg over his mount's back. "Though I don't know why, as you wont be here very long"
"We'll see about that." I spat. I took Rave on my fist as the gelding beneath me shifted impatiently. "Fly to the castle, Rave." I stated and he bounded off my hand. The horse I was riding spooked and reared, and I handled it beautifully, not missing a beat. I saw the man glare at me and kick his horse into a gallup. I followed suit. The gelding beneath me took a flying start, Kentucky Derby-worthy, and I rode him easily, taking off behind the Warmblood down the path. We started at the end of the carriages, but were soon overtaking them. The man was barely in front of me. I clicked to my mount and reached behind me, smacking his flank. He surged forward and soon we overtook the Warmblood. The horse may not have been as pretty or as nicely equipped as the Warmblood, but he was taller and faster. I saw beside me in a blur as children's heads popped out of the carriage windows to watch the scene. I barely caught a glimpse of Harry Potter, who had a strange look on his face. The Warmblood was gaining on us again and I started to pay attention. I was determined to show this man up, whoever he was. I was a little too focused on speed, however, and in the dark a large log lying on the ground appeared in the path beside the carriages. I slowed my mount down, but he was still going too fast as he approached the hazard. I don't know exactly what happened, but the next time I was conscious I was staring at the ceiling of the school casualty unit.