Chapter 11: Elder Futhark
A desk appeared seemingly out of nowhere as Harry entered the Ancient Runes classroom and he flopped into it, folding his cane and dropping it into his school bag, which was bursting with books. Ancient Runes Made Easy by Laurenzoo had eight volumes in Braille. He'd only brought the first one. Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms had twelve volumes, Spellman's Syllabary also had twelve, and the Runic Dictionary had a whopping twenty-four! Compared to that, Advanced Rune Translation by Yuri Blishen seemed almost small with only four volumes. [A/N: HPOotP has 9 volumes!] He hoped he didn't have to bring all of them to every class.
More students trickled into the stone classroom, which smelled like it was full of books, books and more books, and someone sat at the desk ahead of Harry, then turned around.
"Hello, Harry, it's Luna," she said in her vague way.
"Hi Luna," Harry greeted her warmly, but before he could make further conversation, he felt a tap on his left arm.
He realized it was Gemma signing "Hello," and he turned to greet her enthusiastically in BSL.
"Hi Gemma," said Luna, and Harry wondered if she was also signing or using the Scribulunt Loqi charm. He didn't hear any papers fluttering by her mouth that transliterated what she said so Gemma could read it, so he assumed she must be signing.
"You two have met?" he asked rhetorically.
Gemma took his hands gently and signed under them that she met Luna previously and Luna learned some BSL but since they were in different houses, they didn't get a chance to chat much.
"I like how she signs under your hands so you know what she is saying," commented Luna.
"Err, thanks," said Harry. "It's called Pro-Tactile."
Gemma made a small happy sign and then she explained that her class interpreter had come and she needed to speak to him before class started.
It wasn't long before the usual hush fell over the class, indicating that the Professor had stepped forward.
"Good morning, class, I am Professor Bathsheda Babbling." Her voice had a pleasant smile in it, was a little low-pitched for a woman, and she sounded like the type who did not suffer fools gladly. "This is the Study of Ancient Runes, and there is a rumor going around that this class is a lot of work. That rumor is true."
Harry groaned inwardly. Homework. He imagined Hermione hearing this introduction and throwing herself a secret little party and he almost smiled in spite of himself.
Professor Babbling continued, "Please turn to the introduction of Ancient Runes Made Easy on page six and observe the Runic Alphabet you see there."
Harry dug through his bag, reading in his slow way the titles of each of the books that were written sideways on the cover so as to be conveniently felt. By the time he had found the right book, everyone else had theirs open on their desks. He felt his face redden. He flopped his open on his desk and began feeling in the upper corners for the page numbers that corresponded to the pages in the print books. (The Braille page numbers were in the bottom corners). As he got more nervous he had more trouble reading the embossed dots.
Silence descended and he realized they were all waiting for him. He didn't know whether to feel pleased or embarrassed. He flipped page after page, frantically looking for the number six, but he kept turning past it. The silence became shuffling and coughing.
At last, oh, at long last, he found it, let the book settle and raised his face to the Professor.
"Mr. Finch-Fletchly, would you please read the opening paragraph aloud on page six?" asked the Professor, her voice completely normal and unbothered, as though Harry had not just taken ten times longer to find a page number than anyone else in the class. Following her lead, the group also settled, and Harry found his discomfort melting away. He couldn't read fast enough to follow along, but he listened as Justin read about a brief history of Runes, and the fact that they each had a meaning and magical power. He found that he was becoming fascinated, and also discovered that his book had a tactile drawing of each rune, along with a braille letter that would refer to it in the text. He carefully felt the lines of the symbols, imagining Vikings long ago, during the icy winters, carefully carving the first books of magical lore, and the Druids, in their forest dwellings infusing them with meaning and power.
He was surprised to find the class passing quickly, and almost felt disappointed when it ended. As the students rose to leave, Professor Babbling approached his desk.
"I understand that your books contain several volumes each for this class?" she asked Harry, and from the height of her voice, he could hear that she was very tall.
"That's an understatement," he said wryly, then immediately regretted his candor with a teacher.
"I propose a solution, then," she said with a smile. "Why don't you store the books for this class here in the classroom and only take the ones you need for homework? You may also use this room for homework in the evenings if you wish."
"Wow, err, that would be really great, thanks!" said Harry gratefully. "Do you have enough room in here though?"
"I imagine I have more shelf space than you do in your dormitory," she said with another smile.
"That's true," admitted Harry. "I'll bring them later on. This is really brilliant. Thank you, Professor."
"No problem," she said graciously and strode away.
Gemma had been waiting for Harry. She tapped his arm and signed under his hand, "What was that about? You in trouble on the first day? Grin."
"You know me!" Harry signed back with a wink. "No, she said she'd let me put my books in here because they are so big."
"Nice," Gemma responded. "Lunch? I'm starving!"
"Wish we could sit together like we did at the Center," Harry commented.
"I like — — friends but I'd — with you — if I could," Gemma signed so fast that Harry missed most of it.
"Whoa, slow up," he laughed. "Your what friends?"
"B-A-D-G-E-R friends. Hufflepuffs. But I'd like to sit with you today," she replied.
"We might be able to soon," said Harry.
"How?" she asked.
"A new common room," explained Harry.
"How will that help?" she queried.
"It's a common room for all the houses. A Hogwarts common room." Harry hoped he was getting the signs right. It was so hard to remember finger shapes he had never seen, and although he'd felt them in his hand and tried to picture them in his mind, he still forgot more than he would have liked.
"That sounds great," Gemma said with a happy nudge against his shoulder. "Now, lunch."
"You are hungry," laughed Harry, and he took her elbow. They had walked so much at the Center with Gemma guiding and both enjoying the connection that allowed quicker communication that it felt like second nature now, although he rarely allowed other friends to guide him. Gemma was a good guide: thoughtful and conscientious and she never forgot to mention stairs up or down with a gentle gesture, so he could relax when walking with her. She also never made a big deal out of guiding him; she never got flustered or anxious; never shouted out directions or called attention to him. She was pretty much the perfect guide.
They reached the Great Hall and headed to their separate tables. Ron called out to Harry, who joined him at the Gryffindor table. Lunch was fish and chips, one of Harry's favorite easy-to-eat meals.
"How was Ancient Runes?" asked Ron, loading his plate with food.
"Better than I expected," answered Harry. "Could you dish mine up too, mate?" He decided that asking for help was preferable to chips going all over the Gryffindor table.
"Sure. Hand your plate over," said Ron, accustomed by now to this sort of request.
"Brill, ta," said Harry, holding out his plate, which Ron promptly filled and handed back.
"What did you expect?" asked Ron, his mouth now full of chips or mash or something.
"Dullness," said Harry, and took a bite.
Ron chuckled in agreement.
Harry swallowed and continued. "But it wasn't bad at all. One thing, though, I'm going to get faster at reading. Or die," he added with a grim laugh, forking mash into his mouth.
"I saw the boxes in your room. Blimey, they gave you plenty of books!" Ron agreed in sympathy.
"Books?" asked Hermoine, sitting across from them.
"Where have you been?" asked Ron accusingly.
"Oh, around," Hermoine's answer seemed deliberately vague.
"Around with Cedric?" asked Ron, his voice a shade louder.
"Who's asking?" hotly retorted Hermoine. "Anyway, what's this about books, Harry?"
"Only that I have about a million this year, and I'm taking Ancient Runes, and that class alone has over fifty volumes," Harry answered, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.
"Fifty volumes?" asked Hermoine in awe. "I loved Ancient Runes, by the way,"
"We know," groaned Ron and Harry together.
"I can help you study if you want," offered Hermoine.
"I'm going to need all the help I can get," said Harry, but he couldn't hide the grin under his self-pitying tone.
"You liked it!" accused Hermoine, reaching across the table to throw a chip at Harry. "Isn't Professor Babbling the greatest?"
"She seems nice," was all Harry would commit to saying. He wasn't ready to join Team Hermoine in front of Ron.
"Have you picked your own personal Rune yet?" asked Hermoine.
"My what?" queried Harry.
"A personal Rune?" asked Ron. "Like to sign your name?"
"It's a lot more than that," explained Hermione. "It has meaning for you and power for protection."
"Mmm, I guess not yet. Not on the first day," replied Harry.
"You should as soon as possible, especially considering the new teachers here this year," she said, lowering her voice. It sounded from her voice angle like she was observing the Head table.
"The Carrows you mean?" asked Harry, leaning in toward her.
"You had them last year at Durmstrang, mate. What are they like?" asked Ron.
"Creepy," answered Harry. "I'm sure they're Death Eaters, but how much can they do if Voldemort isn't around?"
Ron nearly choked on a chip and Hermione shifted in her seat.
"Come off it guys. Really?" asked Harry. "Still? With the He-Who-We-Don't-Ever-Say-His-Name-Because-Why stuff? And the Carrows. I'm pretty sure they were at my Inquisition this summer at the Ministry of Magic."
"How do you know?" asked Ron skeptically.
"Well, we were all walking out. I was with Sirius and Remus. And I smelled this smell. I couldn't place it then. But I remember now what it was. The Carrows both wear Dragonhide jerkins. I'm not sure if they think they just look cool or if they've both lost their sense of smell, but it was useful for me last year to be able to tell they were coming! Those things have a pretty foul aroma."
"They are brother and sister, I think," stated Ron.
"Twins," added Hermoine, for once laconic.
"Have you heard why Professor Sinistra is gone for the year? Why are the Carrows even teaching Astronomy and Knitting?" asked Harry.
"I heard Professor Sinistra was on sabbatical. I guess she is going abroad somewhere, probably with Petro, her son," said Ron. "Nothing scary, but still, I don't like the replacement!"
"Me neither!" agreed Harry. "Hermione, are you taking knitting?"
"No, I already… wait. Are you?" Hermione whipped her head around so fast to look at Harry that she whacked him in the face with her hair.
Harry sputtered trying to get the strands of hair out of his mouth.
"Er, yeah. I didn't have much to choose from… everything else was so visual. So, yeah. At least Luna and Gemma are going to be in there with me," Harry's shoulders slumped as he thought about another term of trying to untangle yarn and find dropped stitches.
"I hear that the second course has a scrying aspect to it, though," Hermione said.
"Scrying?"
"You know. Reading visions… " Hermione sounded like she was looking at him intently.
"Great."
"It's not like you have to see to have visions. Isn't your Professor O'Carolan a seer?" Ron said.
"Er. No. He jokes about it… says that it is something that sighties do… assume blind people have "the sight?" he said, making air quotes.
"Sighties?" Hermione said, sounding miffed.
"You know. People who can see," Harry said, smiling, knowing that it would yank her chain.
"What? Are you a blindie, then?" Ron asked, through a mouth full of food. "Hey! He started it!"
Harry heard the soft plunk of another chip as it bounced off of Ron's head. Hermione was throwing food again. She let out a ragged sigh as Harry and Ron dissolved into giggles.
"I don't think…" but she didn't finish the thought and Harry straightened up, trying to get a handle on his sniggering.
"What don't you think?" Harry asked, turning toward Hermione.
"She's gone, mate. Back to Ickle Ced-i-poo," Ron said, slapping Harry on the shoulder and sighing heavily, his voice projected away from Harry as he presumably followed Hermione's progress through the Great Hall.
"Well, drat. I suppose I better work on finding the dungeon where the Carrows are teaching knitting, then," Harry said as he swung his legs over the bench and shook out his cane. He hefted his bookbag onto his shoulder as Ron wished him good luck and made his way through the Great Hall to the corridor.
Before he made it through the big doors, light footsteps approached him. He didn't pay much attention to them at first because he assumed that it was just a firstie wanting to get an early start to class as well, but as they fell in step with him, a familiar scent brushed his nose.
"Luna?" he asked.
"Hi, Harry," she answered. "Are you headed to the Knitting dungeons?"
"Yep. Are you?"
"Yes, I need help getting the nargle nest out of my yarn. I've tried everything my father suggested… even the butterbeer cork bowl he sent me is not working. I hope Professor Carrow knows what will work," Luna lamented.
"My Aunt uses mothballs in her yarn basket, but I don't suppose that would work," Harry suggested.
"Moth what? That sounds horrid," Luna said in disgust.
"Well, they stink to high heaven, that's for sure," Harry said, laughing and wondering what Luna was imagining.
As they descended into the dungeons, the air grew heavier and dank.
"Hmmm. I didn't think the classroom would be like this," Harry mused as he remembered the bright classroom (for Durmstrang anyway), the crackling fire, and the baskets of yarn that littered the knitting classroom.
"Musty and damp," Luna hummed in agreement.
There was another odor hidden beneath the swampy miasma of the dungeons… it pricked at Harry's consciousness. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it. He inhaled, trying to get a better sense of it and coughed as smoke from the wall sconces invaded his lungs.
"Do you smell that?" Harry asked Luna.
"Hmmm?"
"I smell something funny," Harry said.
"Rotten pixie eggs?" Luna suggested.
"Er, I don't know what those smell like," Harry confessed.
"Mmmm. Well, they aren't pleasant. Not unlike down here." Luna's voice turned and echoed as if she was in an archway and Harry stopped abruptly and backtracked, sweeping his cane in front of him until he found the doorway she'd disappeared through.
The odor was definitely coming from this room. Strange shifting light was emanating from the corner of the room where the pungent smell seemed stronger.
"Pardon me, Professor," Luna's lyrical voice rang in the space giving it a domed dimension, but she was immediately interrupted by a fierce bark as one of the Carrow twins shouted at them from across the room.
"Out! Out!" "What impertinence! Go away!" Feet pounded as the Professor advanced on them.
Harry's cane struck something in front of him. Luna's foot, he decided, when she quickly tapped the back of his hand to offer human-guide. They spun around and went back through the arched doorway into the clammy corridor.
"What were they brewing that they didn't want us to see?" Harry asked in a low voice.
"It wasn't like anything I've seen Professor Snape brewing… it had dancing colors and forms, like ghosts… but not ghosts… it was something…" she trailed off.
"I've smelled that before… I know I have," Harry muttered to himself.
"Do you want to sit over here while we wait for class to start?" Luna started veering toward the wall.
"On the floor?"
"Naw. Someone's carved a bench into the alcove here."
Harry tapped the tip of his cane and listened as the sound revealed a circular space in front of him. Torches sputtered on either side, their swaying light making the shadows in the corridor grow and recede.
"It is a memorial," Luna told him as they sat down on the bench.
"Oh, is there a placard of some sort?"
"No, the ghost of the lady sits here sometimes. It was built for her."
"Not Moaning Myrtle, I hope," Harry said under his breath.
Luna's high-pitched laughter echoed off the alcove walls and she leaned into him, rocking as she gasped for breath. "No, no. She's very different from Myrtle. You'd never confuse the two of them."
Harry ran his hand over the surface of the bench. It was cool, rough stone, chiseled from the same rock that made the dungeon walls. His fingers found a small squiggly shape carved into stone and he traced it idly back and forth while Luna laughter finally settled down into gulps of air.
He felt unsettled by the way the Carrows had run them out of the classroom… they were up to something, he was sure of it. If he could only remember where he'd smelled that potion before…