Chapter 8: Halloween at Hogsmeade

"Good afternoon! Have ah got'er treat fer yeh today!" Hagrid grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Now, ah know ah promised yeh my friend woul' be commin' from Africa, but he's been delayed, so ah just switched aroun' the schedule a bit and today we have the esteemed Prof. Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank."

Midge Owens squealed with delight, clapping her hands as an older witch with close cropped grey hair and a prominent chin emerged from behind the cabin, dusting off her hands.

Hagrid continued, "Now some of yeh may have heard yer brothers and sisters talk about Prof. Grubbly-Plank bu' mos' of you prolly don' know what she is famous for."

Midge Owens threw her hand in the air so hard Matthew was almost surprised it didn't dislocate her shoulder.

"Yes, Miss Owens?"

"Dr. Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank is the author of Flying High with Pegasi and Social Development as it Relates to Hierarchy in Unicorns!" she cried out. "She's the expert on magical equines!"

"Ten points to Hufflepuff." Hagrid grinned.

"Thank you, Hagrid," Prof. Grubbly-Plank said politely. "And to you as well, Miss Owens. Well, that was quite an introduction." She clapped her hands together. "Yes, I am Prof. Grubbly-Plank. I worked as a substitute teacher for Care of Magical Creatures while I was doing research for my recent book on the life cycle of Unicorns. Hagrid has invited me back in the hopes that I might speak to you on my findings. Now as you all know unicorns are solitary animals. If they do condescend to associate with people, they prefer the company of woman, particularly young girls who are pure of heart..."

Prof. Grubbly-Plank droned on but Matthew scarcely heard her as his head slowly fell forward, his heavy eyelids closing on their own. He had been awake almost the entire night thinking about everything he had seen in the Forbidden Forest last night. A group of girls ran off screaming towards... something... golden... He snapped back awake. His head slowly fell forward again. He was back in the woods. Three hooded figures sat around a fire. The one in the center raised a skeletal hand, beckoning him with a finger. He jolted awake as something heavy fell on his shoulders. It was Hagrid's massive palm.

"Sorry, Boot. I didn' mean ter keep yeh up so late las' night."

"It was my fault, I couldn't fall asleep."

"Well, if yeh need ter nip off for a bit, it won' bother me none. Unicorns aren' much interested in boys, anyhow."

Matthew looked over at the field to see a unicorn nudge Ceelee so hard it almost knocked her off her feet. Ceelee shook her head and gave it a pat on the nose. Midge Owens had her arms around the neck of a golden unicorn foal. Meanwhile, the boys were kept at a distance, forced to watch.

Matthew gave a weary smile. "Thanks, Hagrid. I think I will."

He found himself a comfortable patch of grass within sight of the greenhouses and fell asleep. Thankfully, this time it was visions of Quidditch that filled his dreams, until Debbie gave him a soft kick in the ribs to wake him for class.

It was a few weeks later that Matthew good a rather rude awakening when something rather large, yet still smaller than he, landed on his bed.

"Matt! Did you see? Hogsmeade trip in one week. Just two days before Halloween!"

Matthew blindly groped for the watch on his nightstand. His hand finally landing on it he pulled it forward so he could just make out the hands.

"Ugh... Tip, it's six in the morning."

"Right. That only gives us thirteen days and eighteen hours to plan." Tip pulled out a hand drawn map of Hogsmeade that looked as though an eight year old had rendered it. "We'll need to hit Zonko's first. I know right before Halloween everyone's going to want to go to Honeydukes first which is precisely why-"

Matthew pulled up his quilt causing Tip to roll off the bed onto the floor.

"Hey! What did you do that for!" Tip cried, rubbing his head.

Matthew pulled the quilt over his head and turned to face the opposite wall. "It's six in the morning. Go back to sleep."

With the trip to Hogsmeade a week off Matthew had hoped that would be the end of it, but as he walked through the common room he could hear everyone buzzing about it. A number were making plans for what was now shaping up to be an extravagant Halloween. They were discussing costumes and pranks. Some were even talking about holding a Hufflepuff costume party in the common room.

"We could do a costume contest!" a 6th year prefect named Abigail Martin cried.

"With prizes for the best costume," Head boy Quincy Koenig added.

Donald rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, "We should have it judged by year, that way the first and second years aren't at a disadvantage."

"Fair and just, as always, Donny," Shoshanna teased from behind a book of nordic runes.

"We could ask the House Elves to make us special cupcakes for the winner," Quincy thought aloud.

"And a giant Halloween Cake for everyone! At least three layers!" the twiggy 5th year prefect Erin Green cried. "With popcorn balls and candy corn and caramel apples!"

Donald smirked at his fellow prefect. "Do you mean beside the cake or on the cake?"

Erin regarded him, perplexed, "Why on the cake, of course. Otherwise it'd be pretty boring wouldn't it?"

"Just making certain."

Erin was a muggleborn who had rather... eccentric ideas about food which going to a magical school had only exacerbated. This ranged from a cream puff venus flytrap, which was only supposed to give a playful snap before allowing itself to be eaten but had gone horribly awry and now lived in the "mortal danger" section of the Greenhouses, to a turducken that would hop out of each other as three separate birds and do a dance before jumping back into each other, leaving most who saw the display without much appetite. Even now, she was working on a tree that grew all kinds of fruit, including pineapples and watermelon.

Matthew passed a few girls excitedly gabbing about costumes for the party.

"I'm going to be a Enfield, or maybe a baby Hippocampus," Midge Owens declared. "What about you, Debbie?"

"I don't know, maybe a Dementor."

"A dementor! That's too easy!"

He was glad to leave the common room for the quiet of the hallway. In the hall, alone with his thoughts, a grin spread across his face - perhaps there was something he might be able to do for the party, but whether he could get it to come off... that was the question. He hurried off towards the library where he quickly found the book he was looking for, he started writing what he would need to purchase at Hogsmeade. He stopped, chewing on his quill, he was at an impasse.

"Why not use bluebell flames?"

"What?" Matthew said, looking up into Holly's clear blue eyes.

"They get warm, but they aren't particularly dangerous. And they are waterproof so you would not have to worry about the swamp water quenching them. You're making a Will 'o the Wisp path through an instant swamp, aren't you?"

"Yeah, Hufflepuff is planning a Halloween Party and I thought that might set the mood if we put it up in the corridor. I'll have to run it by Koenig first but that sounds perfect. Thanks Holly. What are you doing here so early?"

"Studying." There was suddenly a far off look in her eye.

"Anything I can help you with?"

"No." she said simply and walked off. Though blunt, it was clear she meant no offense by it. There was no more consequence to her answer than if he had asked her the time. Terry had often mentioned a fellow Ravenclaw named Luna Lovegood who always seemed to live in a distracted world of her own - Matthew wondered if she were like Holly. As he passed by her while he was returning the book he could see she was reading from a page in a horticulture book on which was written, in large fancy script "Valerian" alongside a picture of a plant with a dense puff of waxy white flowers. He knew Valerian from his potions OWLS - it was a necessary ingredient for a Draught of Peace (a potion he had made certain to study that had ended up not being on the exam at all). They were probably doing Forgetfulness Potions in Slughorn's class. It was a simple enough potion, one of the first Terry had taught him, in fact. Though she might be trying to get ahead of the other Ravenclaws and learning how to make a sleeping draught in her first year. Though, honestly, that would probably put her at the average level for that house. Already he could see six other Ravenclaws studying at the tables, one had apparently already been down to breakfast for he had a mug of coffee and a danish sitting, almost untouched, beside his book. In a leather armchair in the corner was the Ravenclaw Captain himself, Taro Matsumoto, sipping tea between turning pages in a book with a title in Japanese and pictures of people playing Quidditch on the cover. As calmly as though it were nothing more than taking another sip of tea, Taro drew his wand and gave it a casual flick. Hector Boranos flew by his ankle into the air from behind an armchair where he had been hiding, dropping an armful of dungbombs on the floor.

Taro took another sip of tea and glanced over at Matthew. "Boot, you're leaving for breakfast, aren't you?" he said. "Would you make certain this young man gets there as well?" With a flick of the wand, Hector flew over to Matthew's side and was deposited on the floor.

Hector stood, brushing off his robes. "Just you wait till Gryffindor gets through with you, Matsumoto! You won't be so smug then."

Taro raised his brows, "I look forward to it. Though I shall have to wait for some time, unfortunately. I believe that match is currently scheduled for the end of the school year."

Hector went red in the face.

Matthew took him by the shoulder hoping to get him out of the situation before he said anything more to embarrass himself. "Come on, we don't want to miss breakfast."

Apparently Hector could not take the hint for he shot back, "Good! You won't have to worry about missing your NEWTS when Boots Luna and Cass Weasley put you in traction."

"Shhhh!" Madam Pince said, pointedly.

Taro just smiled as he turned a page in his book. "That is most fortunate. I will have to thank them for their consideration."

Hector fumed, no longer even able to produce words, only unintelligible sounds of impotent rage. Matthew led him down toward the dining hall trying his very best not to laugh.

That morning at breakfast Izzy marched up to Matthew with a rather long sheet of parchment and shoved it into his hands.

"Chocolate frogs... Cauldron cakes... Fizzing Wizzbees... Skivving Snackbox (3)..." Matthew read. "Izzy, what is this?"

"My list of things you are going to buy me when you go to Hogsmeade."

"Who said I'm going to buy you anything?"

"What's the point of having a big brother at Hogwarts if he doesn't get you things from Hogsmeade?"

He sighed, giving the expression of a put upon older brother. "I'll see what I can do. But I'm not buying you the Skivving Snackboxes; mom and dad would kill me."

"Oh come on, Matty! All the other kids have them."

"Yeah, come on Matty," Wycliffe mimicked as he passed by them. He was followed by Cass Weasley and a blond girl Matthew did not know.

Izzy shot Wycliffe a withering look. Matthew held up a soft-boiled egg and winked at her before tossing it into the air.

"Wingardium leviosa," she whispered conspiratorially, sending the egg hurtling into the back of Wycliffe's head. It hit with a loud crack.

"Hey!" Wycliffe shouted, his hand flying to the spot where a blotch of orange yolk stained his hair.

Cass and the other girl broke into paroxysms of laughter.

"They got you good!" Cass cried, hugging her sides. "What's your name, kid?"

"Izzy Boot," Izzy said proudly.

"Why don't you sit with us, Izzy? You can keep certain pests away."

"Really?" Izzy was in raptures as the two older girls led her along.

"Cass! Wait!" Wycliffe called. He turned back to Matthew, "You know they're only doing this to find out your weaknesses."

Matthew smiled, "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Just then three cups of pumpkin juice that had been levitating above the Gryffindor emptied themselves over Wycliffe's head and there was a burst of laughter from the Gryffindor table.

"Cass!" A soaking wet Wycliffe stalked over to the end of the table where Cass, Izzy, and the other girl were rolling with laughter.

"Aren't you going to go help your sister?" Donald asked, watching as Wycliffe proceeded to try to ream out the three girls.

"Nah. She can handle herself. In a match between her and Wycliffe, I'd bet on her every time." Matthew laughed as an eclair flew up the back of Wycliffe's robes causing him to spin around and try to squash whatever the thing was. From the look on his face, Matthew could tell he had struck it.

"Is your sister only a first year?" Shoshanna asked. "She's pretty powerful for being so young."

"Yeah, we like to say she stole all of my magic for herself. You should see her fly. She'll probably try out for the team next year."

"That's a proud older brother for you," Declan chimed in, grabbing Matthew's shoulders. "Ready for practice today? We're facing Ravenclaw first so we've got to be ready. They're going to throw everything they've got at you. And believe me, that's no small thing. They've seen you play and by now Taro and Bridget have probably picked out every weakness you didn't even know you had and made a dozen different plans on how to exploit every one of them. You should have seen what they did to Smith... on second thought, it's better that you didn't, that was a slaughter, he swore they were playing with an extra quaffle." Declan looked down the table to where Tip was trying to balance a spoon on a knife and failing rather spectacularly, sending random bits of food flying. "I hope that seeker's up to it."

"He's been practicing," Matthew said, neglecting to mention that said practice had involved chasing his pet long-eared jerboa around the dorm room. This nearly always led to some level of disaster and the jerboa happily hopping on it's defeated owner's head. Matthew had to admit it was vaguely snitch-like in appearance. Besides Ceelee's raven it was one of the few exemptions to the pet rule, Mr. Walker having effectively argued that if the Weasley family had been allowed a rat then surely a jerboa should be allowed. The animal was a gift from Tip's father, something of a family tradition regarding a wizard Uncle who had fought in North Africa during the war. Of course, Tip claimed that the jerboa was using its psychic abilities to evade him.

"I didn't know it was magical," Matthew had said.

"All jerboa's are magical," Tip had replied, grabbing at the little creature who easy hopped above Tip's hands a moment before they could close on it. "It's just a matter of whether they choose to show their powers. That's why they like wizards so much. Like Aladdin had a pet jerboa."

"I thought Aladdin had a monkey," Matthew said, recalling the movie he had watched with Sofia and the rest of the class at her birthday party.

"You can't believe everything you see in movies," Tip had replied, looking in a box above the dresser.

"I didn't even know Aladdin was a wizard."

"Of course Aladdin was a wizard! The only wizard to ever hold a Djinn in his power. They have him on a chocolate frog card in Africa."

"Other countries have different cards?"

"Yeah! What? D'you think Japanese wizards are interested in Morgan Le Faye cards when they have Takehaya Susanoo? My dad always picks me up a pack whenever he goes out of country. I'll show you my collection sometime," he said, climbing up the dresser toward the jerboa that had somehow gotten itself on a high shelf, "Once I catch this. little. rat!" The jerboa winced as the dresser came crashing down. It gracefully hopped down to its owner and licked Tip's cheek with its tiny pink tongue.

"Well, I hope he's been working hard. We took a real risk on him, he'd better show he's worth it," Declan said.

"He will," I hope... Matthew mentally added.

That afternoon Matthew presented his plan to Quincy who was quite taken by the idea of turning the corridor into a ghostly swamp. The Fat Friar, peeking over their shoulder was giddy with the plan and suggested he might serve as guide through the swamp. Feeling quite elated that his idea had been accepted he decided that he would buy something for Holly at Hogsmeade as thanks for her help. Afterall, he was already buying half of Honeydukes for Izzy (at least, so far as Izzy believed) why not spare a few sickles for the wispy little girl who still followed him like a lost puppy?

He searched the castle for her but there did not seem to be any trace of her.

"I think she went off onto the grounds," a Ravenclaw first year said when he asked.

Not seeing her by the lake, Matthew walked toward Hagrid's cabin. As he approached the Forbidden Forest he caught sight of something shining gloriously in the morning sun. It was a large, silvery unicorn stallion, standing just outside the treeline. It seemed preoccupied with something. It was Holly! She was reading a book, the unicorn's muzzle resting upon her shoulder. In her lap a golden unicorn foal had laid its head. Matthew approached carefully but it was no use, the unicorn startled, and, seeing the boy, immediately took flight into the woods. The golden foal raised its head in alarm. Matthew stopped, palms out to show he meant no harm, but the foal staggered to its feet and followed its elder back into the forest.

Holly looked up from her book and smiled her wide snaggle-toothed grin. "Matty!" she cried happily.

"Sorry I chased away your friends, I didn't mean to," Matthew said, sitting down next to her.

"It's ok. They'll come back later. They always do."

"I wanted to tell you Quincy loved the swamp idea, particularly the Will 'o Wisp path." Matthew picked at the grass. He didn't know why he suddenly felt very awkward for what seemed such a simple question. But seeing Holly's unfortunate, threadbare robes, it suddenly occurred to him that perhaps she did not get many presents which led the gesture to feel less like gratitude and more like it might be misconstrued as pity. "Anyway, as you might know, we have a trip to Hogsmeade coming up on Saturday and," he took a steeling breath, carefully choosing his words, "as thanks for your help, I was wondering if I might buy you something. Nothing too big, but maybe a book or some sweets or something from Zonko's."

He might have just offered her a hundred Galleons the way her face lit up. Then it immediately darkened, as though some oppressive thought had stolen her joy.

"I don't need anything."

"You don't have to worry about putting me out. My sister has asked for almost one hundred things, one more isn't going to hurt." He attempted a winning smile.

"Well... if it wouldn't be too much of an imposition..." she ventured, timidly.

"Just name it."

"I've always wanted a chocolate frog." That same eager look sparkled in her blue eyes.

"I'll get you five of them."

Holly turned back to her book. "No. One will be fine."

"Then one chocolate frog it is."

Holly grinned and threw her arms around Matthew's neck. "Thanks Matty! I'll never forget this!"

"It's nothing," he said, giving her a light pat on the back. And it really wasn't. He couldn't believe a single chocolate frog was all it took to make her so happy. How gloomy had her life been before Hogwarts?

Between daily practices, which Declan insisted on if they had any hope of beating Ravenclaw, and homework the week had come and gone in an instant. Most nights Matthew collapsed into bed still wearing his Quidditch robes.

The morning of trip to Hogsmeade arrived bright and sunny with hardly a cloud in the sky. Donald and Shoshanna waited for Matthew outside the castle entrance. Ceelee was nowhere to be seen, something about an emergency Quidditch practice - though, she owned, she wouldn't have gone anyway because Hogsmeade was "kid's stuff."

"Tip's already gone on ahead," Donald said. "Something about a "secret plan." I'm going to have to turn him upside-down and shake him out before he enters the castle."

"Is that Prof. Jones?" Shoshanna asked, pointing at the grey haired witch with a large, gnarled walking stick near the front of the crowd accompanied by a very portly man with a walrus mustache. The witch stopped and stared at the sky for a long moment before Prof. Slughorn persuaded her to continue on.

"Move along, students, you don't want to be last in line at Honeydukes," Prof. Sprout said, jovially, as she bustled by them. "I heard they're expecting to sell out today."

"Not to mention Zonkos," Prof. Flitwick added, coming up from behind Prof. Sprout. "They are debuting a new line from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes just for this event."

"Is that why you're going, professor?" Matthew asked.

"Well no, not that precisely," he answered. "Wait for me Pomona!" he called out, chasing after Prof. Sprout as fast as his short legs would carry him.

Shoshanna peered into the crowd of students, "There certainly are an abnormal number of professors coming along today. I wonder why... It's not like they can't go to Hogsmeade at their leisure."

"Perhaps they are interested in the Weasley's new line," Donald suggested.

"Even the Headmistress?" Shoshanna pointed to the tall, severe faced witch who was now walking beside Prof. Jones.

"Know thy enemy?" Matthew suggested.

"Maybe..." Shoshanna allowed. "But I think there's something going on that they are intentionally not telling us. And I doubt it is a sudden interest in Sun Zhou."

Donald sighed, "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. If it was they would have cancelled the trip. Let's just try to have fun. I heard from Prof. Sprout the people of Hogsmeade have been planning for this for months. Ever since the war it seems they like to go all out on Halloween. Last year they even had a skeleton parade."

As they approached Hogsmeade bewitched skeletons danced upon giant carved pumpkins which smiled, jeered, or wept at the students as the passed by. Students gasped as they came upon the entrance to Hogsmeade. It was decorated by a large black and orange balloon archway that rained confetti upon anyone who passed under it. Spooky trees stood to either side with owls and ravens calling loudly from the branches. Dog and cat skeletons raced about. Ghosts invited students to come hear the tales of their adventures scaring muggles or of their untimely deaths. Magical rats danced a can-can upon a stage of hay bales to the delight of a gaggle of first years.

Each house and shop seemed intent to attempt to outdo their neighbors. In one yard a giant, spindly-legged spider stalked about in front of its silvery web which held a number of fake bats, cats, a pegasus, and not less than three children of various ages. Another house had a rather cheeky scarecrow that walked around the front yard making somewhat comedic or rude gestures and occasionally mooning the onlookers with a double-pumpkin rear end. One enterprising shop keeper had made it appear as though a member of the Bulgarian Quidditch team had flown into their shop wall. A snitch flitting around in the inside window completed the scene. Judging by the shop's name, O'Malley's Gorcery, Matthew could guess the owner had not forgotten the World Cup six years ago. Above the town a colony of bats flew about forming shapes like grinning jack 'o lanterns and spooky trees full of eyes and then the word "Zonkos". A skeleton dog came up to Matthew and barked excitedly. Matthew gave it a pat on it's smooth, bleached white head.

Zonko's had a giant display of products from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in their shop window. Things whirred and spun and sparked and flew all around. Through the glass Matthew could already see Tip, his arms full, at the register. Matthew waved to Donald and pointed inside.

"Merlin's beard! Peruvian instant darkness powder... skiiving snackboxes... dung bombs... polychromatic hair tonic... itching powder... decoy detonators... bombtastic bombs... boxing telescopes (I can see those showing up during the astronomy OWLS)... U-no-poo - really?!" Donald looked flabberghasted. "I'm never going to sleep again, am I? Remind me why I accepted the position of Prefect again?"

Shoshanna didn't miss a beat, "Because Ernie was a Prefect and you want to be just like him."

"I think he would have reconsidered his position if he had to deal with the likes of Tip Walker."

Tip caught sight of them outside the window and waved. Then he pulled out a box and held it up for them to see with a giant grin on his face.

"Instant Blizzard?" Donald read, squinting. "Perfect. Let's go to Honeydukes. I need something to cheer me up."

Inside Honeydukes, McLaggen, Wycliffe, and Card were throwing a box of exploding bonbons as though it was a quaffle while Dorsett watched. The shopkeepers, who were already swamped at the registers could only musters quick attempts at admonitions that went either completely unheard or disregarded. Donald pulled his wand, but Shoshanna was quicker. The bonbons flew into her hand.

"That's enough, McLaggen," she said, severely.

"Hey, we were going to buy those!" McLaggen protested.

"Then do and be done with it."

"And why should I listen to you?" he said, palming the last sack of fizzing whizzbees from the hand of a Slytherin third year and hooking them up over the island of magical treats to Wycliffe. The Slytherin stared at his empty hands in tragic disbelief.

Donald fixed McLaggen with what was probably supposed to be a hard stare, "Come on McLaggen, quit it. Give the candy back. Don't make me take points from your house."

"So tough, Donald MacMillan of the famous clan MacMillan - your family has been in Hufflepuff so long I'm surprised your family crest isn't the badger. You wouldn't have it in you to take points from Gryffindor. You're too soft."

"Do it, Donnie," Shoshanna urged.

"Do it, Donnie!" Jerry Card mocked.

"Yeah, c'mon Donnie, do what your little girlfriend says," Wycliffe added in a singsong voice.

Both Donald and Shoshanna colored.

"Sh- she's not my girlfriend," Donald stammered.

"Just do it," Shoshanna pushed.

"And who are you, Cohen? Just a no name. Your parents don't even speak English," Card said.

Shoshanna bristled. "I'll have you know my ancestors were defending Prague while your ancestors were still painting themselves blue."

"Oh really now? Too cowardly to fight themselves so they made clay giants do it for them?" McLaggen said.

Shoshanna pointed her wand threateningly at McLaggen who responded by pulling his.

"You want to see what a Cohen can do, blue man?"

McLaggen was grinning but his eyes and wand never wavered, "I'd love to. Let's go."

"Come on you two, break it up before they kick us all out," Donald said indicating to the storeroom door where the owner was eyeing them ominously.

"We'll save this for later then," McLaggen pocketed his wand.

"I'll be waiting," Shoshanna replied.

"Give the candy back, Wycliffe," Donald said.

"No, Jerry was looking for some. Finders keepers." He hooked it behind his back to Jerry Card but before it got to its intended destination it was ripped from the air.

Matthew observed the bag of fizzing whizzbees in his hands with casual disinterest, "Well, look what I found. The things people just leave lying around in midair. Well, finders keepers." He passed the sack to the Slytherin who hurried of to the cash register before anything else could happen.

"It's the Squib!" Jerry Card cried. "Let's get him!" Card made to pull his wand but McLaggen held an arm out to stop it.

"Come on, let's go before they really do kick us out." He turned to Matthew, eyes narrowed. "That was very stupid of you, Squib. This isn't over."

The rest of the morning passed without incident. The cashier at Honeydukes had been generous enough to sneak a sack of Fizzing Whizbees from the back into Matthew's order as thanks for helping the Slytherin student. From her emerald green snake shaped barrette, Matthew could guess why.

By lunch time he was loaded down with bags, though he now possessed a significantly lighter pocket. Dad would pay him back, he assured himself. Dad could never resist spoiling Izzy. Not that he could blame his father for it when he and Terry were just as guilty. Like now, for instance; he thought, shuffling the bags slightly.

As they were walking toward the Three Broomsticks for lunch an icy drop of rain hit Matthew's nose.

"Huh, it didn't look like rain earlier," he remarked.

Shoshanna looked up into the steel grey sky and winced as rain drops hit her face. "It wasn't supposed to rain today."

The icy drops began falling faster, spotting the ground and their robes.

"We'd better hurry," Donald said, walking faster.

In the few minutes it took to get in sight of the Three Broomsticks the drops had turned into a deluge. A chilling mist rolled in over the hill. Prof. Jones stood outside the Three Broomsticks holding a lantern in one hand and waving students inside with the other. "Get inside students, get inside. The rain should pass soon."

Inside the Three Broomsticks they found the pub packed with students. Madam Rosmerta was squeezing and threading her way through the crowd trying to take orders as best she could.

"Over here!" a voice called. "Matt! Donny! Shosh!" They turned to see Tip waving at them from a table near the fireplace where he was sitting with Debbie and Midge Owens, each had a butterbeer in front of them. "Some weather, huh?" Tip said as the trio squeezed in, Matthew's bags littering the entire area underneath the table. "That's Scotland for ya."

Shoshanna peered out the rain covered window into the dense gray mist, where only a dot of glowing golden light allowed them to know where Prof. Jones was. "I don't know, it seems strange that it came on so fast."

"You always think everything is some dark omen," Donald said, exasperated.

"Not the good omens."

"Anyhow, I'm sure it won't be too long. We might as well have lunch as we planned."

Lunch seemed to take ages as the Three Broomsticks continued to fill. Professors moved in and out with only the occasional remark that was meant to provide reassurance but, after half an hour in cramped conditions, only served to further irritate those stuck inside.

Prof. Flitwick popped in. "Some fog!" he said genially. "You can't even see a hand in front of your face."

"When can we go?" a female student groaned.

"Don't worry, I'm sure it will move along soon. Until then, best to stay inside, wouldn't want you to get lost."

Prof. McGonagal stuck her head in, "I found these four stragglers in the alley." She ushered in McLaggen, Card, Wycliffe, and Dorsett, all appearing rather irritated at having been caught. "See to it they stay inside," she directed Flitwick.

Matthew felt the same impatience as the others. They had been there almost an hour. Despite being near the fire he was still soaked from the rain and had now started shivering. His hot butterbeer had only just arrived and, of the words that might be used to describe the drink, hot was not among them. Wasn't that the point of having magic? So little things like weather weren't such a bother? A few patches of students had begun squabbling. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and multicolored paint exploded everywhere, covering a full corner of the bar and Jerry Card who began arguing loudly with a Slytherin student, Henry Knott. Wycliffe drew his wand which was met with a drawn wand by a Slytherin girl.

Matthew, seeing Flitwick preoccupied reached for his bags and slid out when Shoshanna grabbed his wrist.

"You can't go," she whispered.

"It's just a bit of rain and fog. I'm already soaked to the skin; what's a little more rain going to do?"

"Just be careful. There's something unnatural about all of this."

"Donny's right, you worry to much."

She fixed him with an irritated glare.

"I'll be careful," he conceded.

"Alright, but if anyone asks I didn't see you go."

"You didn't see what?"

"Exactly." She let go of his wrist. "Don't blame me when you miss the Quidditch match because you're laid up with pneumonia and lycanthropy."

He flashed a smile and slipped off through the front door.

It was no challenge to sneak past Prof. Jones, her lantern was almost invisible. If anything, Flitwick had understated the fog. Matthew could scarcely see his feet in front of him. The rain had slowed considerably, now only glazing the world with a thin sheen of icy water. Matthew folded his glasses and placed them in his pocket. It was hard enough to see without droplets of waters covering the lenses. As he slowly walked on, following the dirt path only visible at his feet, he began to regret his choice, wishing to once more be beside the fireplace at the overcrowded table. But it was too late now. Even if he'd wanted to he could not find his way back.

He felt as though something were watching him, following just behind like a shadow. It was just the fog playing tricks on him, he told himself. He willed himself not to turn and look, for the moment he did he might lose his orientation. That's how people died in blizzards going to the outhouse, he thought, one turn to look back at the house and suddenly they were disoriented and they were found frozen to death days later half a mile away. He shouldn't read so much. It was making his mind play tricks on him. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling he was being followed. He quickened his pace slightly, no longer paying as much attention to where he was going until he ran right into the stone stile of the bridge. A large, soft, fleshy thing crashed into him from behind, squashing him.

"Oof," the other boy said.

Matthew whirled around. "McLaggen?" he exclaimed, shocked. He immediately put some distance between them.

McLaggen held up a glowing wand. "Yeah. I saw you leave so I followed you."

"What for?" Matthew eyed the wand suspiciously. His hand brushed against the wand in his pocket.

"That was a brave thing you did back there at Honeydukes, stupid, but brave. I respect that. I wanted to tell you that."

"I can't respect taking things from a student younger than you. Especially when he's outnumbered."
Now it was McLaggen who appeared shocked, though not so much as Matthew felt actually saying the words to the older boy who could easily flatten him, even without a wand.

"I know, I would've given it back. But if Slytherins don't learn to respect Gryffindors... well you know what happened."

"Just because something happened doesn't give you the right to be a bully to younger kids, no matter who they are."

McLaggen rubbed the back of his head with his hand, "I know. You're right. I know you're right. But I just see those green ties and... I don't know... it just gets to me."

"Well- ... Wait a minute. What's that?" Matthew pointed at a dark shape slowly descending from somewhere behind McLaggen's head. Three more followed. They were large, at least as large as a human, and seemed to be billowing as though they were wearing black robes. Looking above him now he could see the sky was swimming with them. As cold and miserable as he had felt only moments ago he suddenly felt much worse now.

McLaggen turned around as though in slow motion. Matthew watched his eyes widen in recognition as the shapes began approach, floating on the mist.

"Dementors!" McLaggen shouted. He grabbed Matthew's arm. "Run!"

They ran to the other end of the bridge where three dementors appeared in front of them. Matthew could hear the sickly rattle of their breathing.

"Expecto... expecto patronum!" McLaggen cried. A thin wisp of whitish smoke wafted from the tip of his wand. "Expec... expecto... Argh! Make it stop!" McLaggen dropped his wand, grabbing his head with balled fists. "Make it stop!" One of the dementors approached McLaggen. Matthew could hear a raspy sucking sound. McLaggen's arms fell to his sides, his eyes stared blindly at the creature. They were glassy, hollow.

Matthew pulled out his wand and raised it thinking of the happiest memory he could recall, the day he had received his acceptance letter from Hogwarts. "Expecto Patronum!"

A shaft of white lightening shot out from beside him. It coiled itself around the dementor. The other dementors fled while McLaggen collapsed to his knees. A gigantic, ghostly white adder coiled itself around the neck and arms of the dementor, its every movement seemed to be burning the flesh of the black robed creature. Matthew had never heard a dementor scream, hadn't even known it was possible that they could. Somehow the sound was even worse than the raspy breathing or the horrible sucking. It was a terrible, high-pitched, hollow sound; it was almost mechanical in its wailing. Two more patronuses appeared, a large wolf growling at the dementor's front and a fox at its back.

"This one should have known better than to try to eat and run," a large cloaked man that Matthew recognized as the white haired Death Eater laughed. He twitched his wand so that the snake tightened its coils.

Matthew could feel his hand shaking so hard it felt as though his wand mind drop from it. Or was it the wand that was shaking? Around them the fog cleared and Matthew could see the two other Death Eaters on either side of him, though they did not seem the least bit interested in him or McLaggen but were wholly focused on the screeching dementor, their wands still out.

"Well, let's see what we've caught this time," the larger man, who was clearly the leader said. He flicked his wand and the wolf disappeared. Another flick and the dementor's robes flew open revealing a skeletal chest. Matthew could count the creature's ribs through its gray, scabby flesh. "Come now, show us what you've got." He made a slashing motion and what could have been the flesh where the dementor's stomach would be gave way. A translucent sack popped out, hanging like some sort of horrible blackish bubble in which strange spheres swam, like tadpoles in a brackish pond. "So who do we have here?"

The man raised his wand and the spheres began to glow. Distorted faces appeared on them as they passed the front of the pouch.

"Huh," the white haired man muttered. "Justinian Timmons. Didn't know he had a soul to lose. That butcher."

"You're one to talk."

"Hey, I, at least had style. And I didn't do pureblood kids."

"What about that girl in Dulwich Village?" the larger man suggested slyly.

"That was Amycus and Alecto, I was just there to keep the parents in line. It was only supposed to be a couple fingers, nothing that couldn't be grown back. Just enough to convince her mummy and daddy we were serious. But they were having too much fun; got a bit carried away."

"A bit?"

"Well, it worked didn't it? We got Scrimgeour. He never suspected a thing until his own secretary stunned him. Wish I could have been there to see the look on his old lion face. Thought he'd thought of everything: constantly checked all of his employees for the Imperious curse, surrounded himself with only those who had fought against the Dark Lord in the first war. Didn't even think we could turn one of his men. And his secretary still got to keep his son. Not that he gets to see him being in Azkaban and all."

"I'm sure he finds a great deal of consolation in that." Matthew could tell the man was smiling as he said the words. A chill ran down his spine. The larger man let his wand drop. "He's not here." He turned to the smaller man. "Would you like to do the honors?"

"Perhaps both of us," the smaller one answered, pulling up his wand so that the fox disappeared. "There are too many professors around, I'd like it to be quick."

"Good idea. On three then. One... two... three..."

The two men raised their wands to the gaping hole that was the dementor's mouth.

"Expecto Patronum!" they shouted in unison.

A bright white light shot from their wands into the dementor's screaming mouth. For a moment all was silence and Matthew wondered if whatever they had done had worked. Then a crack appeared in the dementor's shoulder and bright white light poured out. Another crack and another appeared until great lines of light cut across the creature's body. It tilted its head back in a silent scream as its body was torn apart. In only a matter of seconds it lay, a pile of ash upon the ground. The sky around had visibly cleared as the death eaters sheathed their wands.

Finally, the leader turned to Matthew, "You're Celestina's friend from the wood." He surveyed Matthew. "It figures she would choose a Hufflepuff - there is something to be said for loyalty to friends. The Dark Lord forgot this. It was one of his gravest mistakes. Give her my regards."

"I will if you'll tell me your name." It was perhaps too brave a move, foolhardy even. He could scarcely believe he had spoken the words. But it was worth a try.

The larger death eater smiled, Matthew could see his unshaven chin from beneath the hood. "I like you. You attempted a patronus charm to save your friend when a wiser person would have run and saved themselves - or, at least, tried to run. You're only a third year aren't you? A bit too young for that kind of magic, thought you might learn under pressure, I suppose. We may have use for you, when you are older. Don't worry about my name, Celestina will know who I am." He glanced over toward McLaggen who was huddled in a ball on the ground. "Now then, you had best attend to your friend. I don't have any chocolate to give - there's no need to carry it when the dementors fear you. Let's go."

The three men whirled quickly on the spot and with a loud bang disapparated into thin air.