Chapter 6: The Forbidden Forest
Matthew waited beside the gargoyle that stood in front of McGonagall's office. Even through the thick stone he thought he could just faintly hear the severe dressing down being inflicted upon McLaggen and Ceelee. Suddenly, the gargoyle jumped aside, allowing Headmistress McGonagall to appear with Liam and Ceelee at her side. "And if I ever see such behavior from the pair of you again it will be a month of detention for you both. Do I make myself understood?"
"Yes, headmistress." Ceelee and McLaggen said in unison.
"If only you could show such unity outside of my office. Very well, you may go back to your houses and I don't expect to see either of you out until supper." Ceelee and McLaggen went in opposite directions, both with dark expressions on their faces.
"Ceelee! Hey, Ceelee, wait up!" Matthew called, chasing after her.
She scanned the corridor then turned quickly, grabbing Matthew by the collar of his robes she dragged him into an empty classroom. She scowled at him. "What did I tell you about being seen with me, Squib?"
"To try to cut back to weekends and holidays?"
A slight smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. She released the front of his robes. "So what do you want, Squib?"
"I wanted to thank you for stunning Smith for me."
"Oh believe me, it wasn't for you. I've been looking for a reason to curse Smith for ages."
Matthew couldn't help but smile at her sarcastically. "You really can't let it go, can you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Squib."
"You can't let anyone think you might have done something to be nice."
"Niceness is weakness. That's why everyone takes advantage of the Hufflepuffs, because they're too nice. I mean look at you."
"What about me?"
"Look how everyone treated you on the first day. And you just took it. You didn't yell or get angry or anything."
"What would that have accomplished? I mean, besides getting me hexed into oblivion?" Matthew's voice rose as he spoke. "In case you didn't notice, I'm a squib. I'm the first squib to ever get into Hogwarts as a student. Of course I get angry. Who wouldn't get angry? Do you know what my brother gave me when I left for Hogwarts? His old Ravenclaw robes. But I'm not in Ravenclaw, am I? I didn't even get the chance! It would be one thing if I were sorted into a different house, that I could accept, but no. They wouldn't even allow me to put the hat on. I was rejected by every single house, except Hufflepuff, just because of what I am and even they weren't keen. It didn't matter that I achieved nine OWLS, it didn't matter that I was a good Keeper, it didn't matter who I was or what I could do - nothing about me mattered except that I couldn't do magic."
The rage at the series of injustices done him now threatened to boil over as he continued, "I stood in front of the entire school openly rejected by three houses, told to go home, threatened if I didn't. Of course I was angry! I spent a year working all day every day to get in and that was how I was treated? But there was nothing I could do about it. Because I'm the first squib. They are watching every single thing I do, looking for a reason why squibs shouldn't be allowed at Hogwarts. If I show that they've gotten to me you know what they'll say? They'll say squibs can't handle the pressure of being at Hogwarts. And that's it, the doors will be closed to all squibs forever. And why? Because I couldn't keep my temper. I'm thirteen years old and the future of all squibs rests on what I do here. Do you know how much pressure that is? I have to show everyone that squibs can still be valuable members of the Wizarding community. Not just the help." He looked to the floor as though he wished he could spit upon those words.
"So yeah, I'll take it. I don't care if they dump a bucket of botuber pus on me every morning until I graduate, I'll gladly take it. Because I'm here. And if I can get through then maybe that will make the path easier for the next one and the next one until it's not uncommon to see a squib student at Hogwarts. So what if Wycliffe dumps a cup of pumpkin juice on me, or Gryffindor covers me in spit wads, or the Slytherins hex me in the halls, or everyone calls me Squib like its my name? I'm still here. And I'll prove my worth. But don't you ever think it doesn't get to me."
For once Ceelee was dumbfounded. Finally, she smiled, "So you're human, after all. I can respect that."
"Of course I am, what did you think I was?"
"A mouse."
"You know, mice aren't as cowardly as their reputation would have you believe, studies have shown-"
"Maybe you do belong in Ravenclaw," Ceelee interrupted. "Still, it took guts to speak to me like that."
"Well, what would you do about it? I think I'd look good with antlers, personally. Add some distinction."
"I could give you a pig snout."
"No good. I love truffles." Ceelee laughed, in spite of herself. "So what did McGonagall do?" Matthew asked.
"Oh, she gave us her usual lecture about fighting and assigned us detention with Hagrid tomorrow evening. Apparently, he could use a hand with the Calygreyhounds"
"Both of you? I'd think she'd want to keep you apart."
"Maybe she's hoping that by suffering together we'll find some common bond and then suddenly Slytherin and Gryffindor will get along and we'll all sit in a circle and sing kumbaya or something."
"Maybe she thinks Hagrid is the only one strong enough to separate you two. Giants are resistant to spells."
"Most likely. And she doesn't want to come up with two different detentions on a weekend."
"I think that's a given."
Ceelee grabbed her bag, "Well, I'll see you around, Matt."
"Well, weekends and holidays at least." She smirked and left the room.
That evening, at supper, the full weight of the day's events came to bear as the headmistress announced that tomorrow's Quidditch tryouts would be closed to all but the participants. Declan groaned loudly, "We won't be able to find out who Slytherin's captain is!"
"Or the rest of their team, for that matter," Polly added, "Or Ravenclaw."
McGonagall continued, "If I so much as see anyone near the Quidditch pitch during tryouts it will be detention and ten points from your house. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Tip muttered. He turned to the others. "I'm still going to see it," he whispered, conspiratorially.
"And how do you intend to do that with McGonagall on guard?" Deborah asked.
"...I don't know yet, but I will. Right, Matt? We'll see those tryouts one way or another."
"I don't recall agreeing to that," Matthew said, helping himself to another treacle tart.
"Oh come on, you're the brains of this operation!"
"And what are you? The brawn?" Deborah laughed causing the colorful beads on her miniature braids to click together.
Tip looked incensed. "Mark me, I will find a way in, whether you help me or not."
"I'm sure McLaggen and Carrow will be glad to have you join them in detention," Matthew said, slyly, glancing at the pair who were staring daggers at each other across the room. Ceelee made a move toward her robe. McLaggen readied his wand, only to lower it as she produced a shaker of salt and shot him a superior glare.
Tip's eyes grew wide, "McLaggen and Carrow?! Never mind! It's not worth it. I don't want to get caught in the crossfire between those two. I'd be hexed into oblivion. Sorry, Declan." he called to the end of the table.
"For what?" Declan called back, confused. But Tip had already moved on to complaining about the amount of homework he had left from Profs. Slughorn and Jones, both of whom, in his opinion, seemed to believe they were the only teachers in the entire school.
Sunday came with a fine, cool chill wrapped in warm sunlight that beckoned Matthew to the grounds following breakfast. A number of students were already out by the lake giving it a rather crowded appearance. Matthew decided to take a stroll down by the Quidditch pitch toward Hagrid's cabin. Perhaps, if he felt up to it, he might even help Hagrid with the Calygreyhound cubs.
As he passed the pitch he could just make out the Ravenclaws over the stands as they practiced. It looked as though they were warming up. He saw Taro dive down and then back up again, quaffle nestled against his body. Behind him the dark haired girl followed with a smooth fluid motion even Taro could not manage. Without even looking, Taro threw the ball backward where it was neatly received into the waiting arms of Bridget McConville-Kinealy. A bludger flew through the air at her but she dove over it as gracefully as a dolphin leaping from the water. She was less flying through the air than swimming through it.
She dove below the top of the stands, obscuring her from Matthew's view before popping up once more, passing the quaffle between herself and Taro. Matthew watched, completely captivated as she dipped and dived and wove through the cerulean sea of sky. He was not even watching where he was walking, eyes still focused on the sky, when he walked right into the trunk of an enormous tree.
Bouncing off the trunk, he still could not tear his eyes from the flowing brunette ponytail and blue robes with silver lining flickering as the end waved, following her movements just a moment behind. His hand moved up the trunk, finding a low branch he lifted himself up and began to climb until he had reached the top of the tree. He lay himself down on the uppermost branch, peering over the large knotty end at the Ravenclaw Co-captain.
Taro and the other members of the team vanished from his notice, as if they were merely white noise behind the rippling keys of a piano. He had never seen anyone fly like that, in every motion, every flicker of silver and blue, every pitch and catch, she was beautiful. He lost track of time as he watched. The branch beneath him shifted in the breeze. It seemed as if even the world were moving in sympathy.
No, that wasn't the world. That was the tree.
The branch he lay upon shook beneath him as though awakening from a long slumber. It swayed slowly. Matthew held fast as he returned to his senses. He looked down at the tree, its large, club ended branches now moving about like Medusan coils.
Feeling his movement, the tree sprang to life. The branch he was on bucked and reeled, pitching him this way and that while he hung on for dear life. He reared back onto his knees. Another fist shaped branch landed where his head had been only a moment before. He managed to grab the branch again just when he felt the smashing impact of one of the club ended branches on his side.
He briefly had the sensation of flying before he opened his eyes to see Madam Pomfrey staring at him, behind her a stark white ceiling. How had he gotten inside? he wondered. "Minerva, he's awake."
Prof. McGonagall came into view, her expression severe. "Mr. Boot."
Matthew scurried to sit up. "Yes, professor?"
"I don't know what possessed you to climb the whomping willow or how you even managed to and I do not particularly care. You are never to go near that tree again. Twenty points from Hufflepuff. You are just lucky Mr. Matsumoto and Miss McConville-Kinealy saw you flying through the air or you very well might be dead at this moment."
"They saw me?" Matthew's face burned.
"Yes. They were forced to delay Quidditch tryouts for almost an hour to bring you in to Madam Pomfrey. I hope you are proud of yourself. I put my reputation on the line for you to come to this school and you cannot even go a month without nearly getting yourself killed-" Prof. McGonagall went on in this vein but Matthew was no longer listening, rather he was wishing very much that he could somehow turn into a mouse and scurry away into some corner to never be seen by the Ravenclaw Captain and Co-captain ever again. "Detention."
He heard the word clearly over his thoughts. "I'm sorry?" he asked, his mind rushing back to the hospital bed inwhich he sat.
"You heard me. Detention. This evening, after supper, with Hagrid at his cabin. Madam Pomfrey has assured me that you will be out of bed by that time. You're lucky I don't expel you."
"Yes, professor. Thank you, professor."
The headmistress turned to leave when a thought seemed to strike her, "Oh, and Boot?"
"Yes, professor?"
"You might want to wear your black Hogwarts robes; it could get messy."
"Yes, professor."
Prof. McGonagall exited the room leaving Matthew still sitting in bed feeling monumentally stupid. How could he have not noticed that tree was the whomping willow? And now he was going to be stuck serving detention with Hagrid.
Well, he supposed, it could be worse. Better than having to write lines, anyway. At least he'd be doing something and the Calygreyhound cubs were certainly fun to play with. He could ask Hagrid about the Forbidden Forest and the creatures within - Hagrid was known to have loads of tales. He was not the best professor so far as personal safety was concerned, but, aside from Newt Scamander, there was probably no one who knew more about the care of magical creatures than Hagrid.
He was just beginning to feel a bit better about his situation when he suddenly realized - weren't Ceelee and McLaggen also serving detention with Hagrid tonight? His spirits fell once more. He didn't know which prospect was worse, spending time with McLaggen or having to tell Ceelee how, exactly, he had managed to get detention - that was, of course, assuming they didn't start fighting and accidentally turn him into some sort of giant, tentacled slug.
After supper, Matthew made his way down to Hagrid's cabin in the dimming light of evening. "Hey Squib!" McLaggen's voice boomed from behind him. Matthew turned to see the wire-haired chaser walking not twenty meters behind him. "Heard you were practicing your flying. So how did you manage to climb the whomping willow, anyway?"
"Sod off, McLaggen!" Ceelee said, approaching from the Quidditch pitch where tryouts had clearly only just finished. Unlike Matthew and McLaggen she was not wearing her black robes but green and silver Quidditch robes and carrying an old Cleansweep.
"So, they finally made you the team mascot," McLaggen said.
"Laugh all you want McLaggen, you won't be laughing when I wave that snitch in front of your nose."
"On that old broom? You'll be lucky if you even come in second. You've seen what Creevey's got this year?"
"Yeah, so Harry Potter bought him a broom, big deal. Just means he won't be as used to it."
"You talk big now, Carrow, but you just wait until Boots and Cass have their shot at you."
"I suppose you'll just have to suck it and see," Ceelee returned with a mocking glance. Then her brow furrowed and she turned to Matthew. "But McLaggen makes a good point; how did you manage to climb the whomping willow?"
"I don't know. Maybe it was asleep."
"That thing doesn't sleep," McLaggen said, "it doesn't even relax."
"You would know from how many times you, Wycliffe, and Jerry Card used to play 'Touch the Trunk'," Ceelee said.
"Touch the Trunk?" Matthew asked.
"It's a stupid game the boys in the Knight's Club play to prove how brave and manly they are," she mocked. "They try to touch the trunk of the whomping willow. No one's ever gotten closer than four meters."
"It's meant to teach courage and fortitude and skill."
"By getting the tar knocked out of you by a tree."
"Better a tree than Boots Luna."
"Well, you would be the expert on both accounts, wouldn't you?"
An entire evening of this. Matthew sighed hopelessly. This was going to be the longest night of his life.
"Ho! Ceelee! McLaggen! Boot!" the giant shadow that was Hagrid raised his huge hand in greeting to them. He was holding something large and strange in shape in the other hand, Matthew couldn't quite make out its form in the dying light. "Good ter see ya!" he called out, taking huge strides up to meet them with Fang trotting alongside.
As soon as the giant boarhound scented Ceelee he tackled her, licking every part of her face. Hagrid rushed over to pull the dog off. Matthew could now see what the strange object was that Hagrid was carrying: it was a giant crossbow with a bolt as thick as Matthew's index finger. "Ah know Prof. McGonagall told yeh tha' we would be workin' wit the Calygreyhound cubs today, bu' somethin's come up. One o' me thestrals was killed yesterday."
Shock flitted across Ceelee's face. "What happened?"
"Don' know what coulda done it. Found her this mornin'. Poor girl was torn apart. I know she was due to give birth bu' ah didn' see any sign o' the foal. Whatever got her musta taken it."
"Was it a werewolf?" McLaggen looked as though he were fighting to appear brave.
Hagrid looked up at the moon, it was large and fat but clearly waning. He shook his head. "Ah don' think so. But whatever or whoever it was sure wanted to make it look that way. It could be one of Greyback's lot, they're monsters no matter what phase the moon is in, but it's poachers mos' likely. Thestral foals are worth a lot on the black market, whole or in pieces. Suppose they hoped ah wouldn' find her for a few days. Bu' I been checkin' on the herd what with birthin' an' all. Ah got a new mum due any time now. If yeh listen yeh can hear her. Won' be long now." Matthew listened, faintly, in the distance he could hear the labored breathing of some great beast.
"If someone is killin' the mothers an' stealin' the babies we had better find her an quick. McLaggen, you can see thestrals, right?" McLaggen nodded. "An' Ceelee, ah know you can. Boot, can you see 'em?"
"I... I don't think so," Matthew answered. So far as he could recall he had never seen anyone die. But then, so many had died in the battle of Hogwarts he might have seen one and not even realized it.
"Oh yeah, you took the boats this year so yeh wouldn' know fer sure. Best stick close then. We'll be goin' in the forest jus' a little ways. If you'll follow me." Hagrid lit his lantern and held it aloft as they made their way toward the Forbidden Forest. "Stay right behind me, Boot. I don't wan' yeh ter get lost in the dark."
They walked for almost ten minutes following the sound of the heavy breathing. As they trekked deeper into the forest, the twilight was replaced by pitch darkness. Behind him, Matthew could see the pale light from Ceelee and McLaggen's wands shifting from the trees to the path and into dark crevices where strange noises seemed to emanate from what was nothing at all. The path before them was growing less and less distinct until Matthew wasn't sure whether they were still on it or had left it some ways back.
Suddenly, from out of the darkness came a low, mournful howl. A shiver ran up Matthew's spine. Hagrid instantly turned toward the sound, the lantern light illuminating his serious expression. The howl sounded again from somewhere off to the right. It was not far. "What is it?" McLaggen asked, a slight quaver to his voice. "There are wolves in this forest, right?"
"That's no wolf," Hagrid said, soberly. "You three, take Fang and find the thestral. I'll take care of this. If yeh get in trouble send up red sparks, green if yeh find the momma." Hagrid crashed into the thick underbrush, crossbow at the ready. In a moment he had disappeared into the darkness, not even his lantern breaching the black of the forest.
"How does he know it's not a wolf?" McLaggen asked, alarmed.
"The pitch of the howl," Matthew tried to calm the shaking in his own voice. He could still remember those glowing golden eyes coming from the forest, still feel their hot, moist breath on his heels. "the length of the howl... the tonal modulation..."
"Are you scared, McLaggen?" Ceelee said, her tone mocking. "Don't tell me you're afraid of werewolves?"
"No. Of course I'm not. My Uncle used to take us on werewolf hunting trips in the Black Forest. Now come on, we've got to find that thestral." He began walking in the direction of the breathing again. "Well? Or do you want to go back home to your mummy, Carrow?"
Matthew was quite sure Fang wanted to go home to his mummy, the massive dog was shaking like a leaf under his hold. Ceelee strode forward confidently, following behind McLaggen with Matthew and Fang taking up the rear. After five more minutes Matthew was certain they were no longer on the path.
"You know, now that I think about it, I guess you wouldn't be afraid of werewolves, would you? I mean, wasn't your father in league with Greyback and his followers."
"Stuff it, McLaggen." Ceelee's tone was warning. She threw her hood over her head.
"They probably think of you as an honorary cub."
"I said stuff it!" Ceelee flourished her wand as if she were about to use it when Matthew grabbed it, pointing it to the ground.
"What is that?" Matthew said, pointing to what appeared to be a flickering orange light in the darkness.
"Probably a Hinkypunk."
"Hinkypunks usually live in bogs."
"Perhaps it gets boggy down that way," she said irritably.
"No, it looks too big to be a lantern," Matthew said, squinting at the light. "I think it's a fire."
"It might be the poachers," McLaggen said. "Let's check it out."
"I really don't think that's a good idea," Ceelee said.
"She's right, we should alert Hagrid," Matthew agreed.
"You really are scared, aren't you, Carrow?"
"No, I'm just not stupid."
"Well, I'm going. You can tell Hagrid I'll be waiting for him with a bunch of stunned poachers." McLaggen strode forward into the underbrush, making surprisingly little noise for his size. Ceelee ran after him with Matthew following behind. McLaggen stopped. "So you decided to come along, afterall."
"I just want to make sure you don't get us all killed," she said, tramping along behind him.
As they approached the fire McLaggen held a finger to his lips. He slid soundlessly through the bushes when Ceelee caught his arm. "What is it, Carrow?" he whispered, testily.
Concern flashed in her eyes, "I don't hear breathing anymore."
"Do you think that means they got her?" Matthew said.
"Let's hope not," McLaggen answered. "Come on." He waved them onward.
They silently slid behind a stand of trees from which they were able to see two cloaked figures sitting beside the fire. Though they were sitting, it was clear they were the size of fully grown men, their bodies and faces completely obscured by their cloaks. The figure closest to the the tree stand appeared quite a bit larger than the other who, even cloaked, clearly possessed a thinner build.
"He had better hurry up," the slimmer one growled nervously. "That great oaf won't be fooled for long."
"He will be here," the other man said.
"Why do we need thestrels, anyhow? They clearly are unaware of Wormtail's passage or they would have filled it in by now."
"For now. That does not mean they will remain unaware forever. A wise man leaves himself many options in case circumstances change."
"The Dark Lord did not-"
"The Dark Lord was not a wise man," the larger man interrupted. "That is why he allowed a seventeen-year-old boy to defeat him."
"But he was so powerful!"
"Powerful, yes. And to many power might be mistaken for wisdom. That was our mistake. We saw the signs of monomania and we ignored them simply because he was so powerful. He was not wise. A wise man does not allow himself to be driven by a fear of death." The larger man pulled his wand from his robes and made a motion that caused a heavy log to rise from a pile and onto the fire. As he did this, the sleeve of his robe fell down about his elbow revealing a faint scar in the shape of a skull with a snake sliding from the mouth on the pale flesh of his left forearm.
"Deatheaters!" McLaggen breathed, his eyes glinting with excitement.
"We should go," Matthew said.
"No, you should stay," a voice from behind them boomed. Fang yelped and ran away. "Incarcerous!" From out of nowhere thick ropes wrapped themselves around the trio, binding them tightly.
A large man dressed in the same robes as the pair at the fire appeared. His robes were ill-fitting, tight around what was probably a barrel chest. Locks of white hair shifted in and out of view under his hood, too short to be tied but too long to obey. He pulled the group, bound tightly to each other, into the circle of firelight.
"Keep quiet, I'll handle this," Ceelee whispered.
"Look what I caught!" their captor announced. "They were sneaking around behind those trees. Should we..." he made a stabbing motion with his wand.
The other two stood. The larger one stepped forward, appraising their catch. "We should go," the thinner man said, nervously. He began pacing back and forth in the firelight. "Hagrid might be just behind them."
"Not likely, I led him miles away. He'll be chasing shadows for the next hour at least." the white haired man bragged, then he let out a howl much like the one they had heard earlier.
"Your werewolf impression has improved."
"You can thank Greyback for that. Only thing that worthless mutt was ever good for."
The larger man bent sideways, leaning in to look at Ceelee's face. While Matthew could not see the man's eyes, he watched as a smile spread across the figure's unshaven chin. With one quick movement of his wand the ropes were cut, falling around them. "What are you doing?" the slender man cried.
"I don't think you'll want to kill this one," the larger man said, pointing his wand carelessly at Ceelee. From his tone Matthew could tell the man was still smiling.
"Why not?" the man who captured them said, moving over to see. In one fluid motion Ceelee pulled her hood from her face, her eyes burning and mouth set as though she were seriously displeased.
"Celestina!" the man with the white hair cried in shock.
"You couldn't even recognize your own favorite?" the other man said. The slender man visibly relaxed at this pronouncement.
"It's been a few years."
"Celestina Carrow. I knew your mother well," the man said in an oily tone.
"Better than your own wife, I should say," Ceelee spat the words at him. But the man just smiled.
"Who are your friends?"
"No one important. Just a few students I recruited to help with the plan."
"They know about the plan?"
"They know what I tell them."
"So what in the world were you doing out here, Celestina?" the man asked in a tone that was meant to be nonchalant but clearly demanded an answer.
"Detention. We needed knotgrass and this was the only way to get into the Forbidden Forest without anyone becoming suspicious. We also need bicorn horn but I don't suppose there's any chance we'll find one out here stalking you."
The man laughed mirthlessly. "No, I suppose there is little risk of that. And how did you come to be in detention?"
"The Fat Slug caught us stealing from the storeroom."
"Were you able to get what you came for?"
"Boomslang skin? Yes. We stole some ashwinder eggs to fool him into thinking I was planning to brew a love potion. Stupid git didn't even check the boomslang skin store once he found those."
"Very clever, Celestina, very clever indeed." The man took a lock of Ceelee's hair between his fingers. "Sometimes I find it hard to believe you are truly Amycus's daughter... Perhaps, over the holidays we might become better acquainted."
"You disgust me."
"Temper, temper. I know the new Lord will certainly be glad to add you to our number. Yes... I imagine he will be quite fond of you. You are almost as clever as he was... almost. Anyway, we have what we need so we shall be taking our leave of you." Each of the men threw on something silvery and suddenly disappeared before Matthew's eyes. The fire appeared to extinguish itself as the sound of heavy footsteps left the clearing.
McLaggen rounded on Ceelee, he looked ready to demand something but she held up her hand, watching the direction the sound of the footsteps had gone off in. They stood in silence a few tense moments before Ceelee relaxed. Pulling her wand she sent up a jet of red sparks.
"What is the plan?" McLaggen demanded.
"I don't know. I made it all up," Ceelee said.
"You made it up?" McLaggen was incredulous.
"You really think they'd let a kid in on their plot?"
"Well they sure seemed to know what you were talking about."
"I overheard my mom mention something about it once."
"Well maybe you should ask your father for more details."
"Sod off, McClaggen!" Fire flashed in Ceelee's eyes, Matthew had never seen her quite so angry. For a moment, he had to agree with Donald and Tip, she was scary.
"Who were those people, anyway? Friends of your family?"
"I'd rather not talk about it," Ceelee answered angrily, turning back to the way they came.
"You aren't going anywhere!" McLaggen growled. Ceelee froze. Even with her back turned she seemed to sense McLaggen had his wand trained on her. "Not until you've answered my questions."
"You wouldn't attack a person behind their back," she said.
"A Death Eater is not a person."
"She's not a Death Eater, McLaggen!" Matthew cried.
"Prove it. Show me your arm."
"I don't have to prove anything to you."
"Show it or I'll-"
"You'll what, McLaggen? Crucio me?"
"Ceelee, just show him your arm!" Matthew said.
"No. I want to know what he'll do."
"Don't tempt me, Carrow."
"Come on, McLaggen, use the Cruciatus curse on me. You know you want to." She spun on heel to face him. "You've wanted to for years. Come on McLaggen, do it. I can take it."
"Show me your arm."
"No."
The wand shook in McLaggen's hand.
"Come on. Do it," she dared.
"McLaggen!" Matthew shouted, "How thick are you? Don't you get it? She saved your life!"
McLaggen appeared torn. Finally, he lowered the wand. "I'll let you go this time, Carrow."
Ceelee yanked the sleeve from her left forearm and held it up. The inner palatte was a pale white field of flesh. "I'm no Death Eater."
McLaggen stared at the arm, stunned. His face moved as though it were working through something very difficult that it could not decide how it might express. From somewhere not far off, Matthew could hear Fang's loud barking and the crashing of a large body through the brush. "Ceelee! McLaggen! Boot! Are yeh all righ'?" Hagrid's voice boomed through the darkness.
"Yeah, we're alright!" Ceelee answered, giving one last pointed look at McLaggen before pulling her sleeve back down.
Hagrid burst through the brush. "Ah saw the sparks an' thought you might be in danger."
"We found the poacher's camp," Ceelee said, gesturing toward the extinguished fire. "But we were too late to stop them." Deflated, McLaggen appeared to lack the will to contradict her. Matthew wasn't sure what might be said - he was already in enough trouble with Prof. McGonagall, he clearly had no desire to explain how they had disobeyed Hagrid's strict orders and had almost been killed by Death Eaters because of it.
Hagrid knelt down and examined the ground. He stood back up, a black expression on his face. "Three of 'em. They got the baby." Matthew looked confused, he had not seen anything, but Ceelee shook her head, silencing him. Hagrid shouldered the crossbow. "We'd best be gettin' back. Nothin' we can do now. I'll go out tomorrow and find the mother an' give her a righ' proper burial. Don' know what kinda monsters coul' do that to an innocent creature."
Matthew finally spoke as they arrived at Hagrid's cabin, knowing full well the answer, he could think of no other way of alerting Hagrid to the truth without implicating them. "Do you think the poachers might be Death Eaters?"
"Probably. Don' know anyone else could do sucha thing. Bu' I don' know how they could get on ter the grounds wha' with all the new defenses."
Wormtail's passage. Matthew answered him mentally. But who was Wormtail? And what sort of passage was it? They said it might be filled in... could it be a tunnel? But if it were a tunnel where might it be? The grounds were vast. It could be anywhere. If anything, it was probably in the Forbidden Forest - they would not want to risk exposure by going through the castle. Or would that even matter? His head swam with questions as he, McLaggen, and Ceelee tramped up the hill toward the castle in silence.