Chapter 13: The Grey Book
It was Tuesday evening. Róisín was huddled in her favourite nook of the library, hidden by books stacked high on the table. Outside, the wind wailed as it whipped at the castle walls, the sound making her squishy armchair feel particularly snuggly.
She brought her magnifying glass over the runic scripture she was studying, causing the runes to curve with the shape of the lens. Was that hieroglyph a clawed animal, or some kind of tree? She dragged her textbook, "Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms", from across the table to in front of her, sighing with the effort. Her fingers traced the silver gilding on the cover, swirling as they ran over the ancient patterns.
She opened the book under "Common runes used in Britannia and Hibernia in the 12th Century" and found "Magical Creatures". Beginning at the top of the list, she skimmed over the various symbols for acromantulas, albatrostals, anguisettes, aranaccios, asaliths, ashwinders, … she hadn't even gone past the A's before her attention wandered over to a whispering group of seventh year Slytherins. She spotted Zoltan Kun, the student she had been ogling when Snape rebuked her. The memory made her grimace. Zoltan's tall torso stood out, his black hair shimmering a head above his peers'. Róisín dragged her attention back to the list …augureys, basilisks, baumidgers, bicorns, bluecaps…. Her neck hurt from repeatedly looking back and forth between the strange spiky symbol she was looking for and the symbols listed beside the creatures.
…bowtruckles, brownies, bundimuns…
She rubbed her eyes, trying to dislodge the sleepiness that had settled over her like a warm, fluffy blanket. She did not have time to sleep, with only five months until their NEWTS exams, the professors had begun shovelling homework onto the seventh years as if clearing snow. Sighing, Róisín looked away from her runes textbook to the "to-do" list she had scrawled for the week:
Ancient Runes: Translation from 1143 Scottish church
Defence: Practice dissimulation defence charm; Essay on inferi; Essay on the origins of the patronus charm
Potions: Essay on inter-species Polyjuice variation
Astronomy: Predict the movements of Alpha Centauri star system for the next billion years; essay on most-promising Goldilocks planets for extra-terrestrial life
Arithmancy: Calculate probability of exposure of the wizarding world using the numerology techniques of Bridget Wenlock, Fan Zhou, and Bashshar Bishara (remember to compare results!)
Charms: In-class test tomorrow on: Atmospheric charms; Hand-held flame charm; Bird-conjuring charm. STUDY!
Transfiguration: essay on famous Metamorphmagi; essay on Gamp's Law; practice conjuring mice (! NB research principle of Artificianimate Quasi-Dominance to avoid conjuring hybrid creatures or severed heads!)
Care of Magical Creatures: Draw diagrams showing differences between Norwegian Ridgebacks and Hungarian Horntails; update report on Bumbly (ask Snape for ointment for the scrape on his leg)
Róisín rested her head in her hands. Her note on Bumbly, the thestral foal, had reminded her of the two people who had been scurrying in her head all week, gnawing at her thoughts: Eóghan, and the fact she had yet to tell him that they could no longer see each other, and Professor Snape. She knew she had to meet the potions master on Thursday (two days away – she thought anxiously) to have sex (her skin warmed at the thought), but she didn't know exactly what needed to happen or how it needed to happen. Pushing away her mountain of homework, she decided to look for answers. Róisín hoisted herself up from her armchair. Her stiff back and legs creaked from being still for too long. Flinging a furtive glance around the room, she slid in between the towering bookshelves and stopped at the section "Magical Beings".
She knew no-one could discover her researching sióga, if they did, the knowledge of what she was could reach He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Róisín's toes curled. Before the headmaster had told her in person that He had returned, she hadn't really believed it, but now she was certain He was out there somewhere, festering with evil schemes. The knowledge was a foul, lingering smell that followed her around all day and night.
The shelves on either side of her leaned forwards as they climbed upwards so that the tips of the highest books on either side almost touched, like an ancient street of terraced houses. She trailed her fingers over the spines of the books. New, yellowed, thin, thick, drab, colourful… they seemed to whisper to her, fighting for her attention,
Me, pick me! I know secrets!
Her eyes skimmed the titles, "The Downfall of Urg the Unclean", "Notable Battles of the 1752 Great Goblin Rebellion", "Magical Metalsmithing of the Bogrod Clan". She took a few steps away from the goblin section and kept looking, her eyes straining in the dim light, "Veela Hair Properties and Uses", "Slavic Beauty: A History of the Veela".
Róisín didn't find any mention of sióga when she flicked through, "Modern Magical Beings; A Classification" or "Asteriae Celestical and Alseides Land Nymphs". In "Wood and Plant Nymphs of Western Europe" there were a few words: "Sióga. Origin: Chiarraí, Éire. Class: Human/Nymph. Also known as: Fairy (not to be confused with winged fairies of the Imp class), Fae, Keeper of the Stag".
Thinking she would never find what she was looking for, Róisín pulled a rather fresh, stiff book, "The Human Definition" from the shelf and slumped onto the floor. She opened it a couple of pages in,
"….as evidenced by the recent publication of Rud Traunt's work "The Muggle Problem", there is no doubt there will always exist out-spoken extremists who campaign for the classification of Muggles as Beasts, however, they will remain few and far between. Quoting the famous philosopher Nikolas Flamel:
"It is obvious to anyone not blinded by hate that it is not magical potency that distinguish beasts from beings, but rather compassion. Surely the most captivating dragon, the pearly Antipodean Opaleye, is the most magical of living things while also the most ferocious of beasts."
In 1811, Minister for Magic Gorgan Stump signed into law decree 539.2: "Humans, from muggles, to squibs, to wizards and the magically mature are beings, and as such, have the right to be treated…"
There was that phrase again, "magically mature". Róisín tapped her foot. Maybe focusing on this would lead to answers. She clambered to her feet and slid "The Human Definition" back onto its shelf.
The long, hooked nose of Madam Pince peaked out from a corner. Róisín gave the hawkish librarian a small, innocent smile as the older witch peered at her as if she were a rodent she had discovered among the biscuits in her cupboard. After finding nothing about Róisín's activities she could reprimand, she stalked away without comment. Róisín sighed.
A long, tedious hour later, Róisín's search had born fruit. In "Powerful Wizards and Witches through-out the Ages" a dusty, grey volume with pages so loose Róisín was sure they were in a different order now than when she had first opened it, she found a chapter on "The Evolving Definition of what it means to be Magically Mature" and settled down to get lost in it.
"WHAT do you think you're doing?!"
Róisín jumped. "Powerful Wizards and Witches through-out the Ages" slipped from her grip to the floor with a booming slap. She looked up to the furious eyes of Madam Pince, heart pumping like a field mouse with a hawk diving towards it.
"Sorr-"
"-It is TWO HOURS past curfew!"
Róisín flinched and scrambled to her feet,
"Sorry- I, eh, lost track of-"
"-Detention! This is unacceptable, from a final year student no less! Thursday evening, eight o'clock."
"I can't I have em, a meeting-" Madam Pince's eyes widened as if Róisín had spat a filthy insult. "…I mean, yes of course, madam. Thursday at eight, I'll be here" Róisín picked up the book, "Could I…"
A stamp appeared in the air, hovering like a bee. Róisín opened the front cover and the stamp pressed itself to the page underneath faded ink from decades ago.
"I hope you're familiar with Friedrick's Fractional Sorting System or you'll be here late into the night on Thursday!" Madam Pince warned.
"I'll em, brush up," Róisín mumbled as she hurried away from the witch's glare and out of the library.
Winter light inched up the blue and bronze quilt covering Róisín's bed. Outside, the foolhardy birds who had stayed to brave the Scottish winter chased each other around the roof of Ravenclaw tower, singing loudly to herald the dawn. Róisín sat against the headboard, perched over the dusty, grey book as if it were the lost Gospel of Eve.
She had not slept, instead she had read and re-read the book's chapter on "magically mature" wizards all night.
Unfurling like a ferret, Róisín climbed off her bed and went to her modest bathroom to prepare for the day. She had Charms in two hours, and she groaned as she realised she had not practiced the spells Professor Flitwick would test them on. She wondered if she could grab one of those annoying chirpy birds from outside and produce it in class as if she had summoned it.
Róisín spotted Anna waiting outside the Charms classroom. She skipped over to her and began chatting, delighted that Madam Pomfrey had finally released her best friend from the hospital wing.
After the mini class test, Flitwick commented that Róisín had lots of magical potential, but perhaps needed to work on her precision. Her atmospheric charm aimed at increasing the humidity to that of a forest had turned the room into a sauna, her hand-held flame charm had burnt her professor's eyebrows off, and, after explaining how she would conjure a sparrow, she had instead conjured a huge ostrich, which had ran around the classroom knocking over desks and chairs. Ida's magnificent peacock and Anna's pair of snow-white swans had chirped at her blundering ostrich with disdain.
As Róisín headed to lunch with her friends she hoped desperately that after Thursday her magical control would return.
"I dunno Anna, I'm so far behind on study..."
"Come on! We said we would in our final year. What do we have to lose?"
"Everything! If they find out we could get expelled, then we can't take our NEWTS…"
"We won't be, we're all above seventeen, we're allowed drink-"
"-Not in school!"
"Ok, fine! No alcohol, just music and dancing. Flitwick loves his final years, he'd never throw us out for having a teeny party."
Anna's blue eyes glittered with their trade-mark mischief and a rosy glow lit her cheeks. It was bizarre that just a week ago she was on the brink of death and now she was enthusiastically convincing Róisín to have a nineteenth birthday party.
Róisín was a year older than the other seventh years. Eight years ago, when a strange letter had arrived in the Feral family letter box stating that Róisín had been accepted into a school of "witchcraft and wizardry" her parents had been sceptical. Her father was a maths teacher and her mother was a social worker. They had surrounded Róisín from an early age with books on history, physics and maths hoping to instil her with a critical mind. They had insisted that Róisín go to a muggle secondary school for a year while they researched exactly what kind of institution "Hogwarts" was. After meeting personally with Professor McGonagall, they had eagerly set out to Diagonally with Róisín and the next September they had said goodbye to her at platform nine and three quarters with faces of excitement that rivalled those of the children around them. These days her father sent her regular letters asking questions on the mysteries of reality she had learnt about recently.
All around them streams of conversation and splashes of laughter lit up the great hall. Róisín cleaned the last of her split-pea soup off her bowl with a piece of sourdough bread as she tried to think of a good excuse not to have the party. Obviously, she couldn't tell Anna the truth, that she was too preoccupied with her upcoming sexual relations with the most terrifying professor at Hogwarts to think twice about a party.
"Ok, ok, we can have the party," she relented finally. Anna clenched her fists in playful triumph. "But we have to put silencing spells all around the common room so the younger students don't wake up."
"Well of course, we wouldn't want to disturb their precious sleep with our boisterous frivolity!" Anna teased, imitating McGonagall's Scottish lilt.
The Scottish Highlands had tilted away from the winter sun hours ago and now the air in the Arithmancy classroom was biting. Róisín rubbed her hands together and breathed into them.
Professor Vector was scrawling equations onto the blackboard beneath spinous lettering stating today's topic, "Advanced Numerology from the 21st Century". Róisín rested her chin in her palm and stared with glazed eyes at a peeling chart of Babylonian numerals hanging high on the wall. The Arithmancy classroom was a circular room at the top of the north-east tower. The room was so small and the walls stretched so high that Róisín felt as though they were sitting at the bottom of a well.
"The Japanese arithmancers do not focus on individuals, as they believe collective trends and outcomes are paramount, however the French school of thought often concentrates on particular atypical people and how they disrupt the patterns in their world, today we will…"
Róisín paid little attention to Professor Vector's lecture, instead, she imagined her potions professor's black-clad form popping into far-away lands; into the rich colours of India, the dusty outback of Australia, and landing beside the American flag on the moon. Last night, Róisín had learnt from the grey book that the ability to apparate great distances was a skill associated with the magically mature. She had also learnt they could often control animals, speak in tongues and perform powerful wordless and wandless magic. There had even been legends of wizards flying without a broom.
Could Snape do all these things? She imagined asking him and squirmed at the thought. The aim of her research last night had been to make her less nervous about meeting him tomorrow but instead it had made her feel even more intimidated than before.
"...for example, if we apply Dubois' transform to the student body…"
Róisín could hardly hear her professor's voice over the buzz of questions swarming her head. Would Snape kiss her? Or would he go straight to the main event? Would they see each other naked? Would it hurt?
"…we could find outliers in the population, perhaps students with unusual hobbies or talents, or particularly powerful young wizards. The Ergodic projector, a later addition to Dubois' equations, would highlight a student with an unusual background, with veela blood for instance…"
Róisín felt her heart accelerate. Maybe she had completely misunderstood what was supposed to happen with Snape tomorrow night. Maybe they would just sleep on the same bed for a couple of hours and her magical control would come back.
"…not forgetting to include the division to compensate for the multiplication of universes at step seven…."
Róisín ran her hand through her hair as Professor Vector's chalk continued to scrap against the blackboard. Did wizards have sex in a different way to muggles? Were there any spells she needed to know?
"…it is always prudent to check and see if your result is reasonable. In this case I must have forgotten to carry the…"
The sióg snapped her gaze onto the Arithmancy professor, who was searching the blackboard for a mistake in her calculations. Weird. Vector hadn't made a mistake in the five years of Róisín being in her class, in which Róisín had seen her perform thousands of calculations.
" …this outlier is … not probable…"
Vector normally spoke to the class clearly and precisely but now she muttered under her breath. Behind her, Róisín recognised the posh drawl of the Slytherin Marchand whispering to Zoltan Kun,
"It's definitely Potter who messed up the equations, it's always bleedin' Potter."
There was silence as Vector appraised the Greek letters which were the result of her calculations. Then she turned and surveyed the class. Her eyes stilled as they looked in Róisín's direction.
"Well, that's all for today," Vector stated abruptly, "perhaps the population size was too small to implement such a method, I will research this possibility and discuss it next time." The professor spoke loudly but her voice faltered as if she did not believe her own words. Róisín felt her neck become sticky as she looked around at her peers. Did she look at me? Did the transform reveal what I am?
Vector exited the classroom with uncharacteristic haste, her ruby red robes rippling behind her. The bewildered students muttered as they followed her down the steep spiral staircase and went towards their respective dormitories.
"What do you breathe life to and receive life from?"
Róisín slumped against the wall and stared at the golden eagle knocker with disdain.
"Em… plants"
The walnut door swung open, and Róisín sighed with relief. Fantasizing about her bed, she made straight for the stairs but was stopped by a pair of big blue eyes popping in front of her.
"Hey, how was arithmancy?" Anna asked cheerfully.
"Ugh, fine, but I wanna sleep," Róisín mumbled. Her friend frowned.
"I was hoping we could organize the party tonight, it could be fun."
"I'm exhausted, Anna."
"But it's eight o'clock?"
"I didn't sleep last night," Róisín snapped.
"Oh, how come?" Anna asked. Róisín averted her eyes as she tried to think of a lie she could tell, presuming the tongue-tie curse wouldn't let her talk about the grey book.
"I couldn't stop thinking about that horror movie, you know the one with the well? The one you forced me to watch with you?"
"Oh yeah." Her best friend bit her lip. "Sorry about that, we could have a sleepover tonight if you want?"
"No, it's fine." Hurt tugged at the corners of Anna's lips. "Sorry, I don't mean to be grumpy, I'm just tired," Róisín said dismissively.
"Ok, well see you tomorrow then."
Róisín rushed up the stairs to her room. She had been surprised by her own rudeness. It was Anna's first night back from the hospital and she had probably expected them to stay up late discussing everything that was going on inside and outside the castle. Her eyes stung with guilty tears. It felt like her secret was tearing her apart.