Chapter 7
The Spider Club
KIARA
I spent a lot of the last week of those holidays pondering the meaning of Malty's behaviour in Dark Avenue. What disturbed me most was the satisfied look on Malty's face as she left the shop. Nothing that made Malty look that happy could be good news. To my slight annoyance, however, neither Chris nor Sian nor Chrissie seemed quite as curious about Malty's activities as I was; or at least, they seemed to get bored of discussing it after a few days.
"Yes, I've already agreed it was fishy, Kiara," said Sian a little impatiently. She was sat on a couch in the smallest attic with her feet up on it, too, and had only grudgingly looked up from her new copy of Advanced Rune Translation. "But haven't we agreed there could be a lot of explanations?"
"Maybe she's broken her hand of glory?" said Chrissie vaguely, as she attempted to straighten her broomstick's bent tail twigs. "Remember that shrivelled-up arm Malty had?"
"But what about when she said "Don't forget to keep that one safe"?" I asked for the umpteenth time. "That sounded to me like Borrin's got another one of the broken objects, and Malty wants both."
"You reckon?" said Chris, who was sat on the wooden steps, carving something new.
"Yeah, I do," I said. When neither Chris nor Sian nor Chrissie answered, I said, "Malty's mother's in Azkaban. Don't you think Malty'd like revenge?"
Chrissie looked up, blinking.
"Malty, revenge? What can she do about it?"
"That's my point, I don't know!" I said, frustrated. "But she's up to something and I think we should take it seriously. Her mother's a Love Destroyer and - "
I broke off, my eyes fixed on the window behind Sian, my mouth open. A startling thought had just occurred to me.
"Kiara?" said Sian in an anxious voice. "What's wrong?"
"Your scar's not hurting again, is it?" asked Chrissie nervously.
"Are you all right, sunshine?" Chris asked gently, which made Sian, Chrissie and I turn to him, for he had never called me that before. Chris must have realised what he had said, for his face flushed and he bowed his head. I actually quite liked it and, forgetting about Malty for a moment, I felt my face go red and a soft smile crossed my lips - a smile, I would later realise, I would use only for him. I noticed Sian and Chrissie glancing from myself to Chris and back again, sharing a secret smile, which I had taken no notice of before, but for some reason I found myself getting annoyed at. Sian, realising the annoyed look on my face, said quickly, "So, what are your thoughts, Kiara? Do you feel ill?"
That made me remember what I had come to realise about Malty, so I said slowly, "She's a Love Destroyer! Malty's replaced her mother as a Love Destroyer!"
There was a silence, then Chrissie erupted in laughter.
"Malty? She's sixteen, Kiara! You think She-You-Know would let Malty join?"
"It seems very unlikely, Kiara," said Sian, in a repressive sort of voice. "After all, she's not seventeen yet ... why would Zira take someone underage into her midst, when she has more experienced witches and wizards doing her dirty work for her? I mean, what could she even do?"
"Sian's got a point, Kiara," said Chris. "Besides, what makes you think - ?"
"In Sir Waldin's, he didn't touch her, but Malty yelled and jerked her arm away from him when he went to roll up his sleeve. It was her left arm. She's been branded with the Death Trail."
Chris, Sian and Chrissie looked at each other.
"Well ..." said Chrissie, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.
"I don't know ..." said Chris slowly, shaking his head.
"I think she just wanted to get out of there, Kiara," said Sian.
"She showed Borrin something we couldn't see," I pressed on stubbornly. "Something that seriously scared Borrin. It was the Trail, I know it - she was showing Borrin who she was dealing with, you saw how seriously Borrin took her!"
Chris, Sian and Chrissie exchanged another look.
"I'm not sure, Kiara ..."
"It doesn't make sense ..."
"Yeah, I still don't reckon She-You-Know would let Malty join ..."
Annoyed, but absolutely convinced I was right, I snatched up a pile of filthy Quidditch robes that I had brought up there so I could take them down to the kitchen later and left the room; both Sian and my mother had been urging us for days not to leave our washing and packing until the last minute. I had just stepped off the last step of the spiral staircase that led up to the family wing of the house when I bumped into Merida, who looked like she was returning to her own room, seeing as she was carrying a pile of freshly laundered clothes.
"I wouldn't go in the kitchen just now," she warned me. "There's a lot of Phlegm around."
"I'll be careful not to slip in it," I smiled.
Sure enough, when I entered the kitchen it was to find Ferdinand sitting at the kitchen table, talking about plans he and Same had already made for the wedding, while my father sat next to him, thoroughly engrossed in the conversation, and my mother was pottering about the kitchen, looking at the little notes Sian had pinned up to help her find everything, or else instructions on how to cook certain meals.
" ... Sam and I 'ave decided on only three bridesmaids, Kat, Merida and Kestrel. Simon will, of course, be the page boy. Sam wants ze girls to be dressed in pale gold ... she says it will contrast well with ze darkness of zair 'air - "
"Ah, Kiara!" said my father suddenly, cutting across Ferdinand's monologue. "Good, I wanted to explain about the security arrangements for the journey to Dragon Mort tomorrow We've got Ministry cars again, and there will be Aurors waiting at the Sub House - "
"Is Todd going to be there?" I asked, handing my Quidditch things over to Mum as I spoke.
"No, I don't think so, she's been stationed somewhere else from what Matt said."
"She 'as let 'erself go, zat Todd," mused Ferdinand, examining his own handsome reflection in the back of a teaspoon. "A big mistake, if you ask - "
"Excuse me, but Todd happens to be one of our closest friends, thank you very much," Mum said tartly, cutting across Ferdinand. "You'd better get on, Kiara. Sian and I want the trunks ready tonight, if possible, so we don't have a last-minute scramble on our hands."
And in fact, our departure the following morning was smoother than usual. The Ministry cars glided up to the front of Dawson Manor to find us waiting: trunks packed, Sian's cat, Lucifer, safely enclosed in his travelling basket, and Harold, Chris and Chrissie's owls, Cattonia and Piggledon, and Keziah's new Pygmy Puff, Fusia, in cages.
"Au revoir, Kiara," said Ferdinand throatily, kissing me goodbye. Chrissie hurried forwards, looking hopeful, but Chris stuck out his foot and Chrissie fell, sprawling in the dust at Ferdinand's feet. Furious, red-faced and dirt-spattered, she hurried into the car without saying goodbye.
There was no cheerful Mina waiting for us at the entrance to the Sub House. Instead, two grim-faced, bearded Aurors in dark Muggle suits moved forwards the moment the cars stopped and, flanking our party, marched us quickly towards the entrance.
"Through the barrier quickly, now," said my father, in a commanding voice. "My daughter first, I think, and she'd better go with - "
He looked enquiringly at one of the Aurors, who nodded briefly, seized my upper arm and attempted to steer me towards the barrier to the Sub House.
"I can walk, thanks," I said irritably, jerking my arm out of the Auror's grip. I pushed my trolley directly at the solid grate, ignoring my silent companion, and slid through it easily on to the water slide, which led me, within seconds, to the Sun House, where the eight large, aqua-blue submarines were attached to cranes, which were attached to pulley systems, which were dropped into a pool, which was part of the ocean.
Keziah and the Dawsons joined me within seconds. Without waiting to consult my grim-faced Auror, I turned to look for my grandmothers, and I found them standing by the ramp leading to the submarines. I waved to them and Keziah, the Dawsons, my parents, the two grim-faced Aurors and I went to greet them.
"Hello, Kiara," said Grandmother Sarabi, hugging me as soon as she saw me. "Now, we have a few minutes before you leave, and I have a few things to say before you do. You'll be spending Christmas with the Dawsons. It's already been arranged, but Sarafina and I will be coming over there on Christmas Eve, and we'll be spending Christmas Day with you." I looked at Grandmother Sarafina, who nodded her head in confirmation. I smiled at her, and then turned her back to Grandmother Sarabi, who continued, "I also want you to know that you don't have to write to me any more, unless you want to."
I looked at her in surprise. "Are you sure, Grandmother Sarabi?"
She smiled at me gently and said, "Kiara, you have your parents back in your life, who love you and want to hear from you. So don't worry about not writing to me, all right?"
I nodded at her and we hugged. When we let go, I turned around and faced my father, who was smiling warmly at me. "My mother's right, Kiara. If you need anything, or just want to ramble, you know where to find us."
"Thanks, Daddy," I said, hugging him tightly. As I held him, I looked over his shoulder and saw Mr Dawson, and that's when I remembered what I had to ask him about. I slowly let go of my father, went over to Mr Dawson and said, "Mr Dawson, can I have a word?"
"Of course," said Mr Dawson, who looked slightly surprised, but followed me out of earshot of the others nevertheless.
I had thought it through carefully and came to the conclusion that, if I were to tell anyone, Mr Dawson would be the right person; firstly, because he worked at the Ministry and was therefore in the best position to make further investigations, and secondly, because I thought that there was not too much risk of Mr Dawson exploding with anger.
I could see my father and the grim-faced Auror casting the pair of us suspicious looks as we moved away.
"When we were in Brickabon Alley - " I began, but Mr Dawson forestalled me with a grimace.
"Am I about to discover where you, Sian, Chris and Chrissie disappeared to while you were supposed to be in the back room of Tanya and Geri's shop?"
"How did you - ?"
"Kiara, please. You're talking to the man who practically raised Tanya and Geri.
"Er ... yeah, all right, we weren't in the back room."
"Very well, then, let's hear the worst."
"Well, we followed Dani Malty. We used my Invisibility Cloak."
"Did you have any particular reason for doing so, or was it a mere whim?"
"Because I thought Malty was up to something," I said, disregarding Mr Dawson's look of mingled exasperation and amusement. "She'd given her father the slip and I wanted to know why."
"Of course you did," said Mr Dawson, sounding resigned. "Well? Did you find out why?"
"She went into Borrin and Burka," I said, "and started bullying the woman in there, Borrin, to help her fix something. And she said she wanted Borrin to keep something else for her. She made it sound like it was the same kind of thing that needed fixing. Like they were a pair. And ..."
I took a deep breath.
"There's something else. We saw Malty jump about a mile when Sir Waldin tried to touch her left arm. I think she's been branded with the Death Trail. I think she's replaced her mother as a Love Destroyer."
Mr Dawson looked taken aback. After a moment he said, "Kiara, I doubt whether She-You-Know would allow a sixteen-year-old - "
"Does anyone really know what She-You-Know would or wouldn't do?" I asked angrily. "Mr Dawson, I'm sorry, but isn't it worth investigating? If Malty wants something fixing, and she needs to threaten Borrin to get it done, it's probably something Dark or dangerous, isn't it?"
"I doubt it, to be honest, Kiara," said Mr Dawson slowly. "You see, when Narissa Malty was arrested, we raided her house. We took away everything that might have been dangerous."
"I think you missed something," I said stubbornly.
"Well, maybe," said Mr Dawson, but I could tell that he was humouring me.
Just then, the five minute warning whistle sounded; around us, people were saying goodbye to their loved ones.
"Come on, I'm sure Simba, Nala and your grandmothers will want to say goodbye to you," said Mr Dawson, and we hurried back to them.
Grandmother Sarafina was the first to greet me.
"Take care of yourself, now," she said, hugging me.
"I will, Grandmother Sarafina," I said, hugging her back. I then turned to my mother, who hugged me, too.
"Have a good term, try to stay out of trouble and be good," she said.
I giggled slightly. "Yes, Mum." We let go of each other, and I turned to face my father, who enveloped me in his strong arms.
"Write to us if you need to ... and be safe," he said into my hair; I felt my eyes stinging, but I managed to hold back the tears.
"I will, Daddy," I told him. He kissed my head gently, then let me go. I then turned to Grandmother Sarabi, who hugged me, stroking my hair gently.
"We'll see you soon, sweetie," she said. I nodded and we let go. I then went with the Dawsons and climbed the ramp to the subs with the Dawsons and Keziah. When we reached the top, I turned to Chris, Sian and Chrissie, who weren't going to the Dawsons' Special Sub.
"Aren't you coming this way?" I asked them, confused as to why there were going to a different sub.
"We can't, Kiara," said Sian, looking apologetic. "Chris, Chrissie and I have to go to the Prefect compartment in the fifth-year sub with Keziah and then patrol the subs for a bit."
"Oh yeah, I forgot," I said.
"You'll see us later, though," said Chrissie, flashing me a grim smile.
"Not me," said Chris. Sian, Chrissie and I stared at him.
"Why not, Chris?" I said.
"Oh, I said I'd meet up with Dena," he said brightly, "but I'll see you at the feast, though."
I watched Chris, Sian, Chrissie and Keziah walk away sadly, until I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a round-faced girl and a boy with long hair and large, misty eyes behind me.
"Come on," said Nikita. "Let's go and find seats together." I smiled at her, and together we went to the Dawsons Sub. We put our trunks in the blocks that were attached to the wall opposite the door of the sub. We then strapped ourselves in and waited as the subs were slowly moved along the chain, before one by one, they were dropped into the ocean. We then had to wait a couple of minutes more for the subs to line up and attach themselves to each other under the water, to make a kind of submarine train before we set off for Dragon Mort.
As I sat there, waiting for the subs to set off for Dragon Mort, I felt a slight twinge of annoyance at the fact that Chris would rather spend his time with Dena rather than with me. He knew me better then her, and we had been through a lot together; not to mention, but he was one of the few people who was near enough always by my side. But then, I reasoned with myself, I had no control over his life, and Chris had the right to see whoever he chose; he didn't have to hang out with Sian, Chrissie and I all the time. I then blinked as, with a shuddering jolt, the submarine train started moving, and to take my mind off Chris, I turned to Nikita and Lincoln sitting opposite me and asked them, "Nikita, Lincoln, how are you?"
"I'm all right," said Nikita, shrugging.
"Very well, thank you," said Lincoln. He was clutching a magazine to his chest; large letters on the front announced that there was a pair of free Spectrespecs inside.
"The Mystics sill going strong, then?" I asked, genuinely interested, for I felt a certain fondness for the magazine, having given it an exclusive interview for the previous year.
"Oh yes, circulation's well up," said Lincoln happily.
"People will be staring at us, you know," said Nikita, indicating herself and Lincoln, "because we're with you, Kiara."
"They'll be staring at you because you were at the Ministry, too," I said. "Our little adventure there was all over the Daily Squabbler, you must have seen it."
"Yes, I thought Granddad would be angry about all the publicity," said Nikita, "but he was really pleased. Says I'm starting to live up to my mum at long last. He bought me a new wand, look!"
She pulled it out and showed it to me.
"Cherry and unicorn hair," she said proudly. "We think it was one of the last Madam Wandwick ever sold, she vanished next day - oi, come back here, Tina!"
And she dived under the seat to retrieve her toad as it made one of its frequent bids for freedom.
"Are we still doing CA meetings this year, Kiara?" asked Lincoln, who was detaching a pair of psychedelic spectacles from the middle of The Mystics.
"No point now we've got rid of Umber, is there?" I said. Nikita bumped her head against the seat as she emerged from under it. She looked most disappointed.
"I liked the CA! I learned loads from you!"
"I enjoyed the meetings, too," said Lincoln serenely. "It was like having friends."
This was one of those uncomfortable things Lincoln often said which made me feel a squirming mixture of pity and embarrassment. Before I could respond, however, there was a disturbance outside our compartment door; a group of fourth-year boys were whispering eagerly on the other side of the door.
"You ask her!"
"No, you!"
"I'll do it!"
And one of them, a bold, cocky-looking lad with large dark eyes, a prominent chin and short black hair, opened the door and strode over to me.
"Hi, Kiara, I'm Ronnie, Ronnie Vaughn," he said loudly and confidently. "Why don't you join us in our compartment? You don't have to sit with them," he added in a stage whisper, indicating Nikita's bottom, which was sticking out from under the seat again as she groped around for Tina, and Lincoln, who was now wearing his free Spectrespecs, which gave him the look of a demented, multi-coloured owl.
"They're friends of mine," I said coldly.
"Oh," said the boy, looking very surprised. "Oh. OK."
And he withdrew, shutting the door closed behind him.
"People expect you to have cooler friends than us," said Lincoln, once again displaying his knack for embarrassing honesty.
"You are cool," I said shortly. "None of them was at the Ministry. They didn't fight with me."
"That's a very nice thing to say," beamed Lincoln, and he pushed his Spectrespecs further up his nose and settled down to read The Mystics.
"We didn't face her, though," said Nikita, emerging from under the seat with fluff and dust in her hair and a resigned-looking Tina in her hand. "You did. You should hear my granddad talk about you. "That Kiara Pride-Lander's got more backbone than the whole Ministry of Magic put together!" He'd give anything to have you as a granddaughter ..."
I laughed uncomfortably and changed the subject to O.W.L. results as soon as I could. While Nikita recited her grades and wondered aloud whether she would be able to take a Transfiguration N.E.W.T. with only an "Acceptable", I watched her without really listening.
Nikita's childhood had been blighted by Zira just as much as mine had, but Nikita had no idea just how close she had come to having my destiny. The prophecy could have referred to either of us, yet, for her own inscrutable reasons, Zira had chosen to believe that I was the one meant.
I then started wondering what would have happened: had Zira chosen Nikita, it would have been Nikita sitting opposite me bearing the flame-shaped scar and the weight of the prophecy ... or would it? Would Nikita's father have given her the same protection mine gave me? Surely he would ... but would he have been able to stand between Zira and his daughter? Would there, then, have been no "Chosen One" at all? An empty seat where Nikita sat, and me, scarless, would not have had parents locked up for thirteen years, and would have led an entirely different life (read the first couple of chapters of the Mirror of Wishes to remind yourselves and understand what I'm saying here).
"You all right, Kiara? You look funny," said Nikita.
I started.
"Sorry - I - "
"Wrackspurt got you?" said Lincoln sympathetically, peering at me through his enormous, coloured spectacles.
"I - what?"
"A Wrackspurt ... they're invisible, they float in through your ears and make your brain go fuzzy," he said. "I thought I felt one zooming around in here."
He flapped his hands at thin air as though beating off large invisible moths. Nikita and I caught each other's eyes and hastily began to talk of Quidditch.
The weather beyond the submarine windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; the ocean waters seemed to be darker one moment, and the next it would be bright and clear again. It was during one of the clear spells when Sian, Chrissie and Keziah entered our compartment at last.
"Wish the lunch table would hurry up, I'm starving," said Chrissie longingly, slipping into the seat beside me and rubbing her stomach. "Hi, Nikita, hi, Lincoln. Guess what?" she added, turning to me. "Malty's not doing Prefect duty. She's just sitting in her compartment with most of the other Snake-Eyes, we saw her when we passed."
I sat up straight, interested. It was not like Malty to pass up the chance to demonstrate her power as Prefect, which she had happily abused all the previous year.
"What did she do when she saw you?"
"The usual," said Chrissie indifferently, demonstrating a rude hand gesture. "Not like her, though, is it? Well - that is - " she did the hand gesture again, "but why isn't she out there bullying first-years?"
"Dunno," I said, but my mind was racing. Didn't this look as though Malty had more important things on her mind that bullying younger students?
"Maybe she preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Sian. "Maybe being a Prefect seems a bit tame after that."
"I don't think so," I said, "I think she's - "
But before I could expand on my theory, the compartment door opened again and a breathless third-year boy stepped inside.
"I'm supposed to deliver these to Nikita Bore and Kiara P-Pride-Lander," he faltered, as his eyes met mine and his face flushed pink. He was holding out two scrolls of parchment ted with violet ribbons. Perplexed, Nikita and I took the scroll addressed to reach of us and the boy stumbled back out of the compartment.
"What is it?" Chrissie demanded, as I unrolled mine.
"An invitation," I said.
"Kiara,
I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C of the sixth-year submarine.
Sincerely, Professor A.E.F. Beadu"
"Who's Professor Beadu?" said Nikita, looking perplexedly at her own invitation.
"New teacher," I said. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"
"But what does she want me for?" asked Nikita nervously, as though she were expecting detention.
"No idea," I said, which was not entirely true, though I had no proof yet that my hunch was correct. "Listen," I added, seized by a sudden brainwave, "let's go under the Invisibility Cloak, then we might get a good look at Malty on the way, see what she's up to."
This idea, however, came to nothing: the compartments we passed were so loud with chatter that I couldn't make out a word anyone really said in the jumbled noise, both in and out of the Cloak. I stowed it regretfully back in my bag, reflecting that it would have been nice to wear it just to avoid all the staring, for every time I passed through a compartment, the talking stopped, and I could feel every single pair of eyes on me. The exception was Khan Chan, who started talking determinedly to his friend, Maurice, who was wearing a thick layer of makeup that did not entirely obscure the odd formation of pimples still etched across his face. Smirking slightly, I pushed on.
When we reached compartment C in the sixth-year sub, we saw at once that we were not Beadu's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Beadu's welcome, I was the most warmly anticipated.
"Kiara, m'girl!" said Beadu, jumping up at the sight of me; she was so tall that she had to bend her back to prevent her head from touching the ceiling, which only made her look more spider-like. The light shining from the light above caught her hair and her eyes, and I also saw her fingers wriggled incessantly. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Miss Bore?"
Nikita nodded, looking scared. Beadu then raised her two index fingers, pointed them at us and drew us to her, as if we were two juicy flies that she had caught in her web and she was drawing us to her. Nikita and I then sat down opposite each other in the only two empty seats, which were nearest the walkway. I glanced around at our fellow guests. I recognised a Snake-Eyes from our year, a tall black girl with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes; there were also two seventh-years, a boy and girl who I did not know and, squashed in the corner beside Beadu and looking as though he was not entirely sure how he got there, was Chris.
"Now, do you know everyone?" Beadu asked Nikita and I. "Biana Zamba is in your year, of course - "
Zamba did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, and nor did myself or Nikita: Lion-Hearts and Snake-Eyes students loathed each other on principle.
"This is Conrad Maguire, perhaps you've come across each other - ? No?"
Maguire, a large, wire-haired youth, raised a hand. Nikita nodded at him, but I glared at him, because he was the guy who had tried to touch Sian inappropriately in Tanya and Geri's joke shop.
" - and this is Marianne Belchly, I don't know whether - ?"
Belchly, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.
" - and this strapping young man tells me he knows you!" Beadu finished.
Chris grimaced at Nikita and I from next to Beadu's bony figure.
"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Beadu cosily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch, the food tables, as I remember it, is heavy on Liquorice Wands, and a poor old woman's digestive system isn't quite up to such things ... pheasant, Belchly?"
Belchly started, and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.
"I was just telling young Marianne here that I had the pleasure of teaching her Aunt Dalia," Beadu told Nikita and I, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding witch, outstanding, and her Order of Merlin most well-deserved. So you see much of your aunt, Marianne?"
Unfortunately, Belchly had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in her haste to answer Beadu she swallowed too fast, turned purple and began to choke.
"Anapneo," said Beadu calmly, looking questionably at Belchly. "I doubt she would have helped the involvement for giving house-elves better lives without considerable hard work!"
"I suppose ..." said Belchly, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until she was sure that Beadu had finished with her. "Er ... she and my mum don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about ..."
Her voice trailed away as Beadu gave her a cold smile and turned to Maguire instead.
"Now, you, Conrad," said Beadu, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Aunt Tadala, because she has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting Nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"
"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said Maguire. "We went with Betty Higgins and Rowena Scrimwazz - this was before she became Minister, obviously - "
"Ah, you know Betty and Rowena, too?" beamed Beadu, now offering around a small tray of pies; somehow, Belchly was missed out. "Now tell me ..."
It was as I suspected. All of us there seemed to have been invited because we were connected to somebody well-known or influential - all of us, except Chris. Zamba, who was interrogated after Maguire, turned out to have a famously handsome wizard for a father (from what I could make out, he had been married several times, each of his wives dying mysteriously and leaving him mounds of gold). Then it was Nikita's turn: that was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for Nikita's parents, well-known Aurors, had been tortured into insanity by Katalina Outsider and a couple of Lover Destroyer cronies. At the end of Nikita's interview, I had the impression that Beadu was reserving judgement on Nikita, yet to see whether she had any of her parents' flair.
"And now," said Beadu, shifting slightly in her seat with the air of a compere introducing her star act. "Kiara Pride-Lander! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!"
She contemplated me for a moment as though I were a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "The "Chosen One", they're calling you now!"
I said nothing. Belchly, Maguire and Zamba were all staring at me.
"Of course," said Beadu, watching me closely, "there have been rumours for years ... I remember when - well - after that terrible day - you survived - and then - well - let's not go into what happened to your parents ... people that good can never be evil. Tell me, Kiara," she said, a curious expression crossing her features, "have you been in contact with Simba and Nala?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said. "They're staying at Dawson Manor and ... and, yes, I was in contact with them after I learned of their innocence when they were at Dragon Mort."
"A long time, indeed," said Beadu, slightly impressed. "Tell me, how are you getting along with them?"
"I get along with them very well, ma'am," I said. "As I said, they're staying at Dawson Manor and we love each other very much. They've told me to send you their regards, by the way."
"Oh, excellent, excellent!" said Beadu happily. "I'm glad to know that they haven't forgotten their old Potions teacher." She chuckled slightly, and then her tone became serious again. "But back to the matter at hand - I remember that a few years after She-You-Know was defeated, that there was a rumour going around that you must have powers beyond the ordinary - "
Zamba gave a tiny little cough that was clearly supposed to indicate amused scepticism. An angry voice burst out from beside Beadu.
"Yeah, Zamba, because you're so talented ... at posing ..."
"Oh dear!" chuckled Beadu comfortable, looking down at Chris who was glaring at Zamba from beside Beadu's bony figure. "You want to be careful, Biana! I saw this young man perform the most marvellous Bat-Bogey Hex as I was passing his compartment! I wouldn't cross him!"
Zamba merely looked contemptuous.
"Anyway," said Beadu, turning back to me. "Such rumours this summer. Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Squabbler has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes - but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"
I could not see any way out of this without flatly lying, so I just nodded and said nothing. Beadu beamed at me.
"So modest, so modest, no wonder Crighton is so fond - you were there, then? But the rest of the stories - so sensational, of course, one doesn't know quite what to believe - this fabled prophecy, for instance - "
"We never heard a fabled prophecy," said Nikita, turning geranium pink as she said it.
"Actually, Nikita - " Chris began, but stopped quickly by the look I gave him. I didn't want anyone else to know about the contents of the prophecy, especially not a Snake-Eyes/ And I don't think Crighton would have found it wise for anyone else to have known, either.
"Yes, Mr Rickers?" Beadu said, looking between Chris and I with a look of mingled curiosity and great interest.
Chris stared at me for a few moments, and I was worried. Was he about to confess all about the prophecy? But to my relief, he seemed to understand what I was telling him, for he said, "Nothing, ma'am. Nikita's right. It's just the Squabbler making things up as always." I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief at his words.
"Hmm ..." said Beadu, who did not look thoroughly convinced at Chris' words. "So ... you were both there too, were you?" she said slowly, with great interest, looking from Chris to Nikita, but both of them sat clamlike before her encouraging smile. "Yes ... well ... it is true that the Squabbler often exaggerates, of course ..." Beadu continued, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Glen telling me - Glen Johnson, I mean, of course, Captain of Lancashire - "
She meandered off into a long-winded reminiscence, but I had the distinct impression that Beadu had not finished with me, not to mention that she had not been convinced by Nikita and Chris.
The afternoon wore on with more anecdotes about illustrious wizards Beadu had taught, all of whom had been delighted to join what she called the "Spider Club" at Dragon Mort. I could not wait to leave, but couldn't see how to do so politely. At last, when the lamp seemed to shine more brightly than usual, Beadu looked out the window and saw that the ocean waters were completely inky black, which could only mean that night had fallen.
"Good gracious, it's dark already! I didn't notice how dark the water was turning! You'd better go and change into your robes, all of you. Maguire, you must drop by and borrow that book on Nogtails - Kiara, Biana - any time you're passing. Same goes for you, sir," she twinkled at Chris. "Well, off you go, off you go!"
As she pushed past me once we were in the next compartment, Zamba shot me a filthy look that I returned with interest. Chris, Nikita and I followed Zamba back along the sub train.
"I'm glad that's over," muttered Nikita. "Strange woman, isn't she?"
"Yeah, she is a bit," I said, my eyes on Zamba. "How come you ended up in there, Chris?"
"She saw me hex Zhi Smith," said Chris, "you remember that idiot from Badger-Stripes who was in the CA? She kept on and on asking about what happened at the Ministry and in the end she annoyed me so much I hexed her - when Beadu came in I thought I was going to get detention, but she just thought it was a really good hex and invited me to lunch! Mad, eh?"
"Better reason for inviting someone than because their father's famous," I said, scowling at the back of Zamba's head, "or because their aunt - "
But I broke off. An idea had just occurred to me, a reckless but potentially wonderful idea (or so I thought) ... in a minute's time, Zamba was going to re-enter the Snake-Eyes sixth-year compartment and Malty would be sitting there, thinking herself unheard by anybody except fellow Snake-Eyes ... if I could only enter, unseen, behind her ... what might I not see or hear? True, there was a little of the journey left - the Sub Cave had to be less than half an hour away, judging by how black the water was - but nobody else seemed prepared to take my suspicions seriously, so it was down to me to prove them.
"I'll see you two later," I said under my breath, pulling out my Invisibility Cloak and flinging it over myself.
"But what're you - ?" asked Nikita.
"Later," I whispered, darting after Zamba as quietly as possible, though the chatter of the people all around me made such caution almost pointless.
Everywhere I looked, people were changing into their school robes and were picking up their possessions. Though I was as close as I could get to Zamba without touching her, I was not quick enough to slip into the compartment when Zamba opened the door. Zamba was already closing it when I hastily stuck out my foot to prevent it closing.
"What's wrong with this thing?" said Zamba angrily as she smashed the door repeatedly into my foot.
I seized the door and pushed it open, hard; Zamba, still clinging on to the handle, toppled over sideways into Gemima Gabber's lap and, in the ensuing ruckus, I darted into the compartment, leapt on to Zamba's temporarily empty seat and hoisted myself up into the luggage rack. It was fortunate that Gabber and Zamba were snarling at each other, drawing all eyes on them, for I was quite sure my feet and ankles had been revealed as the Cloak had flapped around them, indeed, for one horrible moment I (correctly) thought I saw Malty's eyes follow my ankle boot as it whipped upwards out of sight; but then Gabber slammed the door shut and flung Zamba off her; Zamba collapsed into her own seat looking ruffled, Veronica Crate returned to her comic and Malty, sniggering, lay back down across two seats with her head in Parry Parker's lap. I lay curled uncomfortably under the Cloak to ensure that every inch of me remained hidden, and I watched as Parry stroked the sleek blonde hair off Malty's forehead, smirking as he did so, as though anyone would have loved to have been in his place. The lamps attached to the ceiling cast a bright light over the scene: I could read every word of Crate's comic directly below me.
"So, Zamba," said Malty, "what did Beadu want?"
"Just trying to make up to well-connected people," said Zamba, who was still glowering at Gabber. "Not that she managed to find many."
This information did not seem to please Malty.
"Who else had she invited?" she demanded.
"Maguire from Lion-Heart," said Zamba.
"Oh yeah, his aunt's big in the Ministry," said Malty.
" - someone else called Belchly, from Raven-Wings - "
"Not her, she's an idiot!" said Parry.
" - and Bore, Pride-Lander and that Rickers boy," finished Zamba.
Malty sat up very suddenly, knocking Parry's hand aside.
"She invited Bore?"
"Well, I assume so, as Bore was there," said Zamba indifferently.
"What's Bore got to interest Beadu?"
Zmaba shrugged.
"Pride-Lander, precious Pride-Lander, obviously she wanted a look at the Chosen One," sneered Malty, "but that Rickers boy! What's so special about him!"
"Well, those blood traitor Dawsons adopted him, and I've heard a lot of girls like him," said Parry, watching Malty out of the corner of his eye for her reaction. "Even you think he's good-looking, don't you, Biana, and we all know how hard you are to please!"
"I wouldn't touch someone who associated themselves with a filthy bunch of blood traitors like him whatever he looked like," said Zamba coldly, and Parry looked pleased. Malty sank back across his lap and allowed him to resume the stroking of her hair.
"Well, I pity Beadu's taste. Maybe she's going a bit senile. Shame, my mother always said she was a good witch in her day. My mother used to be a bit of a favourite of hers. Beadu probably hasn't heard I'm on the subs, or - "
"I wouldn't bank on an invitation," said Zamba. "She asked me about Nechi's mother when I first arrived. They used to be old friends, apparently, but when she heard she'd been caught at the Ministry she didn't look happy, and Nechi didn't get an invitation, did she? I don't think Beadu's interested in Love Destroyers."
Malty looked angry, but forced out a singularly humourless laugh.
"Well, who cares what she's interested in? What is she, when you come down to it? Just some teacher," Malty yawned ostentatiously. "I mean, I might not even be at Dragon Mort next year; what's it to me if some skinny old hasbeen likes me or not?"
"What do you mean, you might not even be at Dragon Mort next year?" said Parry indignantly, ceasing grooming Malty at once.
"Well, you never know," said Malty with the ghost of a smirk. "I might have - er - moved on to bigger and better things."
Crouched in the luggage rack under my Cloak, my heart began to race. I wondered what Chris, Sian and Chrissie would say if they could see this. Crate and Gabber were gawping at Malty; apparently they had no inkling of any plans to move on to bigger and better things. Even Zamba had allowed a look of curiosity to mar her haughty features. Parry resumed the slow stroking of Malty's hair, looking dumbfounded.
"Do you mean - Her?"
Malty shrugged.
"My father wants me to complete my education, but personally, I don't see it as that important these days. I mean, think about it ... when the Scarlet Lady takes over, is she going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course she isn't ... it'll be all about the kind of service she received, the level of devotion she was shown."
"And you think you'll be able to do something for her?" asked Zamba scathingly. "Sixteen years old and not even fully qualified yet?"
"I've just said, haven't I? Maybe she doesn't care if I'm qualified. Maybe the job she wants me to do isn't something that you need to be qualified for," said Malty quietly.
Crate and Gabber were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Parry was gazing down at Malty as though he had never seen anyone so awe-inspiring.
"We're nearing Dragon Mort, I think," said Malty, clearly relishing the effect she had created as she looked at her watch. "We'd better get our robes on."
The Snake-Eyes changed into their robes, and I was so concerned about what I had just heard that I did not notice Gabber reaching for her bag; as she swung it down, it hit me hard on the side of the head. I let out an involuntary gasp of pain and Malty looked up at the luggage rack, frowning.
I was not afraid of Malty, but I still did not much like the idea of being discovered hiding under my Invisibility Cloak by a group of unfriendly Snake-Eyes. Eyes still watering and head still throbbing, I drew my wand, careful not to disarrange the Cloak, and waited, breath held. To my relief, Malty seemed to decide that she had imagined the noise; she locked her trunk and, as the subs split up and headed to their own stopping points within the Sub Cave, fastened a thick new travelling cloak around her neck.
I watched the Snake-Eyes bunch sit down and strap themselves in as the subs were pulled up to the surface by cranes. I had forgotten about this. Panicking, I shuffled carefully and uncomfortably under the Cloak to grab on to one of the bars at the back of the luggage rack, which I held on tight to, until, with a final lurch, the sub came to a complete halt. I hoped that Sian and Chrissie would take my things out of the sub for me; I was stuck where I was until the compartment had quite emptied. Gabber unbuckled her seat immediately and headed towards the door; Crate and Zamba followed.
"You go on," Malty told Parry, who was waiting for her with his hand held out as though hoping she would hold it. "I just want to check something."
Parry left. Malty and I were now the only people in the compartment. Around us, we could hear the feet of hundreds of people descending from their subs into the Sub Cave. Malty moved over to the windows and pulled down all the blinds, so that people in the Sub Cave beyond could not peer in. She then bent down over her trunk and opened it again.
I peered down over the edge of the luggage rack, my heart pumping a little faster. Many questions then ran through my head. What had Malty wanted to hide from Parry? Was I about to see the mysterious broken object it was so impossible to mend?
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Without warning, Malty pointed her wand at me, and I was instantly paralysed. As though in slow motion, I toppled out of the luggage rack and fell, with an agonising, floor-shaking crash, at Malty's feet, the Invisibility Cloak trapped beneath me, my whole body revealed with my legs still curled absurdly into the cramped, kneeling position. I couldn't move a muscle; I could only gaze up at Malty, who smiled broadly.
"I thought so," she said jubilantly. "I heard Gabber's bag hit you. And I thought I saw something black flash through the air after Zamba came back ..." Her eyes lingered for a moment upon my ankle boots. That was you blocking the door when Zamba came back in, I suppose?"
She considered me for a moment.
"You didn't hear anything I care about, Pride-Lander. But while I've got you here ..."
And she stamped, hard, on my face. I felt my nose break; blood spurted everywhere.
"That's from my mother. Now, let's see ..."
Malty dragged the Cloak out from under my immobilised body and threw it over me.
"I don't reckon they'll find you 'til the submarines are all back in Dover," she said quietly. "See you around, Pride-Lander ... or not."
And taking care to tread on my fingers, Malty left the compartment.
A.N.: I apologise for not warning you all about the quite disturbing thing that happened last chapter between Sian and that boy. I'm sorry if this made any of you feel uncomfortable, but it is what it is and I think it raises an important point, but if you want to skip over it, that's fine. More to come next week.