Chapter 11
Sian's Helping Hand
KIARA
As Sian had predicted, the free periods that we sixth-years had were not the hours of blissful relaxation Chrissie had anticipated, but times in which to attempt to keep up with the vast amount of homework we were being set. Not only were we studying as though we had exams every day, but the lessons themselves had become more demanding than ever before. I barely understood half of what Professor Darbus said to us in those days; even Sian had to ask her to repeat instructions once or twice. Incredibly, and to Sian's increasing resentment, my best subject had suddenly become Potions, thanks to the Half-Blood Princess.
Non-verbal spells were now expected, not only in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but in Charms and Transfiguration, too. I frequently looked over at my classmates in the common room or at mealtimes to see them purple in the face and straining as though they had overdosed on The Dark Sludge Deuce; but I knew that they were really struggling to make spells without saying incantations aloud. It was a relief to get outside into the greenhouses; we were dealing with more dangerous plants than ever in the greenhouses, but at least we were still allowed to swear loudly if the Venemous Tentacular seized us unexpectedly from behind.
On Wednesday, I got a reply from my father. This is what it said.
Dear Kiara,
Your mother and I are fine. She's having cravings, it's true - pickles and mayonnaise. At least this time it's not anchovies like she had with you. Sometimes I swear I can still smell them.
I told your mother about you standing up to Triphorm like that, and when she heard she laughed and asked me to tell you good on you. I, however, think differently. I know that she's not your favourite person in the world, Kiara (nor is she ours), but she's still your teacher and therefore deserves some respect for you. I know it's hard, Kiara, but I'm thinking about your future outside school here, and I don't want it ruined because of this hatred you and Triphorm have for each other.
Now, I'm glad to hear that you've made quite the impression on Professor Beadu. Knowing her as I do, she'll probably invite you to one of her little parties that she likes to host. They're quite boring, if I'm honest, but they're not too bad. Anyway, it's good to know you're doing well in Potions, and I hope that after this detention with Triphorm is over that you will keep your head down and try to not get in any more trouble, all right?
I've got to go. Your mother sends her love, as do I.
Love,
Daddy
One result of our enormous workload and the frantic hours of practicing non-verbal spells was that Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I had so far been unable to go and visit Mina. She had stopped coming to meals at the staff table, an ominous sign, and on the few occasions when we passed her in the corridors or out in the grounds, she had mysteriously failed to notice us or hear our greetings.
"We've got to go and explain," said Sian, looking up at Mina's huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast.
"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" said Chrissie. "And we're supposed to be practicing that Aquamenti charm for Winds! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell her we hated her stupid subject?"
"We didn't hate it!" said Sian.
"Speak for yourself, I haven't forgotten the Crabs," said Chrissie darkly. "And I'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear her going on about her gormless sister - we'd have been teaching Harlow how to tie her shoelaces if we'd stayed."
"That doesn't mean we can just ignore Mina for the rest of our lives, Chrissie," said Chris. "No matter what she's said or asked us to do for her in the past, Mina's still our friend, and friends matter."
Sian nodded in agreement.
"Chris is right," she said. "Besides, I hate not talking to Mina. I miss her."
"We'll go down after Quidditch," I assured her. I, too, was missing Mina, although like Chrissie I thought that we were better off without Harlow in our lives. "But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied." I felt slightly nervous at confronting the first hurdle of my captaincy. "I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."
"Oh, come on, Kiara!" said Sian, suddenly impatient. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting and, frankly, you've never been more fanciable among most of the boys in this school."
Chris gagged on a large piece of kipper. Chrissie looked at him strangely, as Sian spared him one look of disdain before turning back to me.
"Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Zira being back and that you really have fought her twice in the last two years and you escaped both times. And now they're calling you the 'Chosen One' - well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"
I was finding the Great Hall very hot all of a sudden, even though the ceiling still looked cold and rainy.
"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks where that evil man made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your own story anyway ..."
"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," said Chrissie, shaking back her sleeves.
"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer, either," Sian finished, ignoring Chrissie.
"I'm tall," said Chrissie inconsequently. Sian wisely chose not to reply to that comment.
"So, Chris," I said, turning to him, "will you come down with us to see Mina later, or will you be stuck with Dena all afternoon?"
"Erm, I think Dena wanted us to spend some time together after tryouts, but sure I'll come down with you," he said, smiling at me, and his words made me fell happy. I tried to tell myself that the reason for my happiness had nothing to do with Chris not spending all of his Saturday with Dena, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling, as the little person inside of me was cheering and doing a happy dance.
The post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering all of us with droplets of water. Most people were receiving more post than usual; anxious parents were keen to hear from their children and reassure them, in turn, that all was well at home. After I received my father's letter, I decided to wait a while before writing to my parents again, so I was therefore surprised when I saw Harold circling amongst all the brown and grey owls. He landed in front of me carrying, not another letter from my parents, but a large, square package instead. A moment later, an identical package landed in front of Chrissie, crushing beneath it her miniscule and exhausted owl, Piggledon.
"Ha!" I said, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a new copy of Advanced Potion-Making, fresh from Flourish and Blotts.
"Oh good," said Sian, delighted. "Now you can give that graffitied copy back."
"Are you mad?" I said. "I'm keeping it! Look, I've thought it out - "
I pulled the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of my bag and tapped the cover with my wand, muttering, "Diffindo!" The cover fell off. I did the same thing with the brand new book (Sian looked scandalised). I then swapped the covers, tapped each and said, "Reparo!"
There sat the Princess' copy, disguised as a new book, and there sat the fresh copy from Flourish and Blotts, looking thoroughly second-hand.
"I'll give Beadu back the new one. She can't complain. It cost nine Galleons."
Sian pressed her lips together, looking angry and disapproving, but was distracted by a third owl landing in front of her carrying that day's copy of the Daily Squabbler. She unfolded it hastily and scanned the front page.
"Anyone we know dead?" asked Chris in a determinedly casual voice; he posed the same question every time Sian opened her paper.
"No, but there have been more Stinger attacks," said Sian. "And an arrest."
"Excellent, anyone we may have heard of?" I said, thinking of Katalina Outsider.
"No," said Sian, and my excited feeling changed to that of disappointment.
"What does the article say, Sian?" said Chrissie.
"Well, it says here that the woman in question, Seraphina Sawyer, was arrested for suspected Love Destroyer activity."
"She might have been put under the Imperius Curse," said Chrissie reasonably. "You never can tell."
"It doesn't look like it," said Sian, who was still reading. "It says here she was arrested after she was overheard talking about the Love Destroyers' secret plans in a pub." She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. "If she was under the Imperius Curse, she'd hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would she?"
"You never know," said Chris suddenly, shrugging, "this might be something the Ministry made up, you know, to give people a morale boost."
"That's actually not bad thinking on your part, Rickers," said Sian. "After all, the Ministry wants to look like they're doing something, don't they? People are terrified - you know Parry Party's parents want him to go home? And Elliot Miggs has already been withdrawn. His mother picked him up last night."
"What?" said Chrissie, goggling at Sian. "But Dragon Mort is safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors, and all those extra protective spells, and we've got Ma!"
"I don't think we've got her all the time," said Sian very quietly, glancing towards the staff table over the top of the Squabbler. "Haven't you noticed? Her seat's been empty as often as Mina's this past week."
Chris, Chrissie and I looked up at the staff table. The Headmistress' chair was indeed empty. Now that I come to think of it, I had not seen Crighton since the private lesson Sian and I had had with her a week ago. And speaking of Sian ...
She was wearing the same mixed expression of sadness and pain she had worn when she joined Chrissie and I back in the common room half an hour after the meeting with Crighton had finished, except that her eyes were not red this time. I wondered what had happened to Sian to cause this misery, for normally Sian would have covered her feelings well, but when it came to her mother ... well, Sian adored her mother; you could see how much they loved each other the moment you saw them hug. So whatever had happened to her mother must have been pretty bad to have such an effect on Sian.
"I think she's left the school to do something with the Order," said Sian in a low voice, recovering quickly. "I mean ... it's all looking serious, isn't it?"
Chris, Chrissie and I did not answer, but I knew that we were all thinking the same thing. There had been a horrible incident the day before, when Hendry Abbott had been taken out of Herbology to be told his father had been found dead. We had not seen Hendry since.
When we left the Lion-Heart table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, we passed Larry Brown and Perry Party. Remembering what Sian had said about Perry's parents wanting him to leave Dragon Mort, I was unsurprised to see that the two best friends were whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise me was that when Chrissie drew level with them, Perry suddenly nudged Larry, who looked round and gave Chrissie a smouldering look. Chrissie blinked at him, then blushed and looked away shyly from Larry's attention. As soon as we left the Hall, Chrissie raised her head, still blushing, but also smiling like an idiot. I resisted the temptation to laugh, remembering that Chrissie had refrained from doing so after Malty had broken my nose. Chris did look amused by this, but somehow managed not to laugh; Sian, however, had her eyes narrowed at Chrissie, and was cold and distant all the way down to the stadium through the cool, misty drizzle, and when we got to the Quidditch pitch, she turned to Chris and said quickly, and a little coldly, "Good luck, Rickers," before she turned on her heel and headed for the stands, without wishing Chrissie any luck at all.
As I had expected, the trials took most of the morning. Half of Lion-Heart house seemed to have turned up, from first years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms, to seventh-years who towered over the rest looking coolly intimidating. The latter included a large, wiry-haired boy I recognised immediately from the Dragon Mort Subs.
"We met on the Subs, in old Beady's compartment," he said confidently, stepping out of the crowd to shake my hand. "Conrad MacGuire, Keeper."
"You didn't try out last year, did you?" I asked, taking note of the breadth of MacGuire and thinking that he would probably block all three goalhoops without even moving.
"Right," I said. "Well ... if you wait over there ..."
I pointed over to the edge of the pitch, close to where Sian was sitting. I thought I saw a flicker of annoyance pass over MacGuire's face and I wondered whether MacGuire expected preferential treatment because we were both 'old Beady's' favourites.
I decided to start with a basic test, asking all applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten and fly once around the pitch. This was a good decision: the first ten was made up of first-years and it could not have been plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. Only one girl managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and she was so surprised she promptly crashed into one of the goalposts.
The second group comprised ten of the silliest boys I had ever encountered, who, when I blew my whistle, merely fell about laughing and clutching each other. Ronnie Vaughn was amongst them. When I told them to leave the pitch they did so quite cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else.
The third group had a pile-up halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group were Badger-Stripes.
"If there's anyone else here who's not from Lion-Heart," I roared, starting to get annoyed, "leave now, please!"
There was a pause, then a couple of little Raven-Wings went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.
After two hours, many complaints and several tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and several broken teeth, I had found myself three Chasers: Keith Ball, returned to the team after an excellent trial, a new find called Danny Roberts, who was particularly good at dodging Bludgers, and Chris Rickers, who had outflown all the competition and scored seventeen goals to boot. Pleased though I was with my choices, I had also shouted myself hoarse at the many complainers and I was now enduring a similar battle with the rejected Beaters.
"That's my final decision, and if you don't get out of the way for the Keepers, I'll hex you," I bellowed.
Neither of my chosen Beaters had the old brilliance of Tanya and Geri, but I was still reasonably pleased with them: Jenny Peet, a small but strong-armed third-year who had managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on the back of my head with a ferociously hit Bludger, and Roxi Cartwright, who looked weedy but aimed well. They now joined Keith, Danny and Chris in the stands to watch the selection of our last team member.
I had deliberately left the trial of the Keepers until last, hoping for an emptier stadium and less pressure on all concerned. Unfortunately, however, all the rejected players and a number of people who had come down to watch after a lengthy breakfast had joined the crowd by now, so that it was larger than ever. As each Keeper flew up to the goalhoops, the crowd roared and jeered in equal measure. I glanced over at Chrissie, who had always had a problem with nerves; I had hoped that winning our final match last term might have cured it, but apparently not: Chrissie was a delicate shade of green.
None of the first five applicants saved more than two goals apiece. To my great disappointment, Conrad MacGuire saved four penalties out of five. On the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed and booed and MacGuire returned to the ground grinding his teeth.
Chrissie looked ready to pass out as she mounted her Cleansweep Twenty-Four.
"Good luck!" cried a voice from the stands. I looked around, expecting to see Sian, but it was Larry Brown. I would have quite liked to have hid my face in my hands, as he did a moment later, but I thought that as the Captain I ought to show slightly more grit, and so I held my head up high, and turned to watch Chrissie do her trial.
Yet I need not have worried: Chrissie saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a row. Delighted, and resisting joining in the cheers of the crowd with difficulty, I turned MacGuire to tell him that, most unfortunately, Chrissie had beaten him, only to find MacGuire's red face inches from my own. I stepped back hastily.
"Her brother didn't really try," said MacGuire menacingly. There was a vein pulsing off in his temple. "He gave her an easy save."
"Rubbish," I said coldly. "That was the one she nearly missed."
MacGuire took a step nearer to me, but I stood my ground.
"Give me another go," he said.
"No," I said. "You've had your go. You saved four. Chrissie saved five. Chrissie's Keeper, she won it fair and square. Get out of my way."
I thought for a moment that MacGuire was going to punch me, but he contented himself with an ugly grimace and stormed away, growling what sounded like threats to thin air.
I turned round to find my new team beaming at me.
"Well done," I croaked. "You flew really well - "
"You did brilliantly, Chrissie!"
This time it really was Sian running towards us from the stands; I saw Larry walking off the pitch, with Perry by his side, a rather grumpy expression on his face. Chrissie looked extremely pleased with herself and even taller than usual as she grinned around at the team and Sian.
After fixing the time of our first full practice for the following Thursday, and after Chris told Dena that he was going to see Mina but would catch up with her later (I looked away as they embraced, trying to hide my disgust), Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I bade goodbye to the rest of the team and headed off towards Mina's. A watery sun was trying to break through the clouds now and it had stopped drizzling at last. I felt extremely hungry; I hoped there would be something to eat at Mina's.
"I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty," Chrissie was saying happily. "Tricky shot from Danny, did you see, had a bit of a spin on it - "
"Yes, yes, you were magnificent," said Sian, looking amused.
"I was better than that MacGuire anyway," said Chrissie in a highly satisfied voice. "Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been Confunded ..."
To my surprise, Sian stopped looking at Chrissie after she had said those words; I noticed Chris looking at her slyly, too; Chrissie, on the other hand, noticed nothing; she was too busy describing each of her penalties in loving detail.
The great grey Hippogriff, Noelani, was tethered in front of Mina's cabin. She clicked her razor-sharp beak at our approach and turned her huge head towards us.
"Oh dear," said Sian nervously. "She's still a bit scary, isn't she?"
"Come off it, you've ridden her, haven't you?" said Chrissie.
I stepped forwards and bowed low to the Hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few seconds, Noelani sank into a bow too.
"How are you?" I asked her in a low voice, moving forwards to stroke the feathery head. "Missing them? But you're Ok with Mina, aren't you?"
"Oi!" said a loud voice.
Mina had come striding round the corner of her cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. Her enormous boarhound, Gnasher, was at her heels; Gnasher gave a booming bark and bounded forwards.
"Get away from her! She'll have yer fingers - oh, it's yer lot."
Gnasher was jumping up at Sian and Chrissie, attempting to lick their ears. Mina stood and looked at us for a split second, then turned and strode into her cabin, slamming the door behind her.
"Oh dear!" said Sian, looking stricken.
"Don't worry about it," I said grimly. I walked over to the door and knocked loudly.
"Mina! Open up, we want to talk to you!"
There was no sound from within.
"If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!" I said, pulling out my wand.
"Kiara!" said Sian, sounding shocked. "You can't possibly - "
"Yeah, I can!" I said. "Stand back - "
But before I could say anything else, the door flew open again as I had known it would, and there stood Mina, glowering down at me and looking, despite the flowery pinny, positively alarming.
"I'm a teacher!" she roared at me. "A teacher, Pride-Lander! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," I said, emphasising the last word as I stowed my wand inside my robes. Mina looked stunned.
"Since when have yeh called me 'ma'am'?"
"Since when have you called me 'Pride-Lander'?"
"Oh, very clever," growled Mina. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little ..."
Mumbling darkly, she stood back to let us pass. Sian passed Mina apprehensively.
"Well?" said Mina grumpily, as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I sat down around her enormous wooden table, Gnasher laying her head down immediately upon my knee and drooling all over my robes. "What's this? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"
"No," I said at once. "We wanted to see you."
"We've missed you!" said Sian nervously.
"Missed me, have yeh?" snorted Mina. "Yeah. Righ'."
She stomped around, brewing up tea in her enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally she slammed down four bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of us and a plate of her (infamous) rock cakes. I was hungry enough even for Mina's cooking, and I took one at once.
"Mina," said Sian nervously, when she joined us at the table and started peeling her potatoes with a brutality that suggested that each tuber had done her a great personal wrong, "we really wanted to carry on with Care of Magical Creatures, you know."
Mina gave another great snort. I rather thought some bogies landed on the potatoes, and I was inwardly glad that we were not staying for dinner.
"We did!" said Sian. "But none of us could fit it into our timetables!"
"Yeah. Righ'," said Mina again.
There was a funny squelching sound and we all looked around: Chrissie let out a tiny shriek and both Chris and Sian leapt out of their seats and hurried around the table away from the large barrel standing in the corner that we had only just noticed. It was full of what looked like foot-long maggots; slimy, white and writhing.
"What are they, Mina?" I asked, trying to sound interested rather than revolted, but I put down my rock cake all the same.
"Jus' giant grubs," said Mina.
"And they grow into ...?" said Chrissie, looking apprehensive.
"They won' grow inter nuthin'," said Mina. "I got 'em ter feed Aratota."
And without warning, she burst into tears.
"Mina!" cried Sian, hurrying back to the table, but taking the long way around to avoid the barrel of maggots to put a comforting arm around her shaking shoulders. "What is it?"
"It's ... her ..." gulped Mina, her beetle-brown eyes streaming as she mopped her face with her apron. "It's ... Aratota ... I think she's dyin' ... she got ill over the summer an' she's not gettin' better ... I don' know what I'll do if she ... if she ... we've been tergether so long ..."
Sian patted Mina's shoulder, looking at a complete loss for anything to say. I knew how she felt. I had known Mina to present a vicious baby dragon with a teddy bear, seen her croon over giant crabs with a fat, fire-shooting, earth-shuddering muscle, attemot to reason with her brutal giant of a half-sister, but this was perhaps the most incomprehensible of all her monster fancies: the gigantic talking spider, Aratota, that dwelled deeply in the Black Forest and which Chris, Chrissie and I had only narrowly escaped in our second year.
"Is there - is there anything we can do?" Sian asked, ignoring Chrissie's frantic grimaces and head-shakings.
"I don' think there is, Sian," choked Mina, attempting to stem the flood of her tears. "See, the rest o' the tribe ... Aratota's family ... they're gettin' a bit funny now she's ill ... bit restive ..."
"Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side to them," said Chrissie in an undertone.
" ... I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo'," Mina finished, blowing her nose hard on her apron and looking up. "But thanks fer offerin', Sian ... it means a lot ..."
After that the atmosphere lightened considerably, for although neither myself nor Chris nor Chrissie showed any inclination to go and feed giant grubs to a murderous, gargantuan spider, Mina seemed to take it for granted that we would have liked to have done and became her usual self once more.
"Ar, I always knew yeh'd fins it hard ter squeeze me inter yeh timetables," she said gruffly, pouring us more tea. "Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners - "
"We couldn't have done," said Sian. "We smashed the entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners when we were there in the summer. It was in the Daily Squabbler."
"Ar, well then," said Mina. "There's no way yeh could've done it ... I'm sorry I've bin - yeh know - I've jus' bin worried abou' Aratota ... an' I did wonder, if Professor Smutty-Stave had tin teachin' yeh - "
At which the four of us stated categorically and untruthfully that Smutty-Stave, who had substituted for Mina a few times, was a dreadful teacher, with the result that by the time Mina waved us off the premises at dusk, she looked quite cheerful.
"I'm starving," I said, once the door had closed behind us and we were hurrying through the dark and deserted grounds; I had abandoned the rock cake after an ominous, cracking noise from one of my back teeth. "And I've got that detention with Triphorm tonight, I haven't got much time for dinner ..."
As we entered the castle we spotted Conrad MacGuire entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first attempt. Chrissie merely giggled gloatingly and strode off after him, but Chris and I caught Sian's arms and we held her back.
"What?" said Sian defensively.
"If you ask me," I said quietly, "MacGuire looked like he was Confunded. And he was standing right in front of where you were sitting."
Sian blushed.
"Oh, all right then, I did it," she whispered. "But you should have heard the way he was talking about you, Rickers, and Chrissie, too! Anyway, he's got a nasty temper, you saw how he reacted when he didn't get it - you wouldn't have wanted someone like that on the team."
"She's got a point, Kiara," Chris whispered. I hesitated, nodded, and turned back to Sian.
"No," I said. "No, I suppose that's true. But wasn't that dishonest, Sian? I mean, you're a Prefect, aren't you?"
"Oh, be quiet," she snapped, as Chris and I smirked.
"What are you three doing?" demanded Chrissie, reappearing in the doorway to the Great Hall and looking suspicious.
"Nothing," Chris, Sian and I said together, and we hurried after Chrissie. The smell of roast beef made my stomach ache with hunger, but we had barely taken three steps towards the Lion-Heart table when Professor Beadu appeared in front of us, blocking our path.
"Kiara, Kiara, just the girl I was hoping to see!" she boomed genially, sweeping a few loose strands of her hair back elegantly with her long, bony fingers. "I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars. I've got MacGuire coming, and Zamba, the charming Marcus Bowling - I don't know whether you know him? His family owns a large chain of Quidditch supply stores - and, of course, I very much hope that Miss Dawson and Mr Rickers will favour me by coming, too."
Beadu made both Sian and Chris a small curtsey as she finished speaking. It was as though Chrissie was not present; Beadu did not so much as look at her.
"I can't come, Professor," I said at once. "I've got a detention with Professor Triphorm."
"Oh dear!" said Beadu, her face falling comically. "Dear, dear, I was counting on you, Kiara! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Tiana and explain the situation, I'm sure I'll be able to persuade her to postpone your detention. Yes, I'll see the three of you later!"
She bustled away out of the Hall.
"She's got no chance of persuading Triphorm," I said, the moment Beadu was out of earshot. "This detention's already been postponed once; Triphorm did it for Crighton, but she won't do it for anyone else."
"Oh, I wish you could come, I don't want to go on my own!" said Sian anxiously; I knew that she was thinking about MacGuire.
"You're not going to be on your own, Sian," said Chris. "I'm going to be there with you." He flashed Sian a reassuring smile, and she smiled back, not quite comforted, but it was a smile nonetheless.
"Great, so all of you have plans except me," Chrissie grumbled, who did not seem to have taken kindly to being ignored by Beadu.
We were then stopped by Dena, who was glaring at Chris, and all but dragged him to where she and Zara were sat together, ignoring Sian, Chrissie and I completely. The three of us walked down the Lion-Heart table, trying not to be happy at how mad Dena was at Chris
After dinner Sian, Chrissie and I made our way back to Lion-Heart Tower. The common room was very crowded, as most people had finished dinner by now, but we managed to find a free table and sat down; Chrissie, who had been in a bad mood ever since the encounter with Beadu, folded her arms and frowned at the ceiling. Sian reached out for a copy of the Evening Squabbler, which somebody had left abandoned on a chair.
"Anything new?" I said.
"Not really ..." Sian had opened the newspaper and was scanning the inside pages. "Oh, Chrissie, look, Dad's mentioned in here - he's all right!" she added quickly, for Chrissie had looked round in alarm. "It just says he's been to visit the Malty's house. 'This second search of the Love Destroyers' residence does not seem to have yielded any results. Matthew Dawson of the Office of the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects said that his team had been acting upon a confidential tip-off.' "
"Yeah, mine!" I said. "I told him at the Sub House about Malty and that thing she was trying to get Borrin to fix! Well, if it's not at their house, she must have brought whatever it is to Dragon Mort with her - "
"But how can she have done, Kiara?" said Sian, putting down the newspaper with a surprised look. "We were all searched when we arrived, weren't we?"
"Were you?" I said, taken aback. "I wasn't!"
"Oh no, of course you weren't, I forgot you were late ... well, Match ran over all of us with Secrecy Sensors when we got into the Entrance Hall. Any Dark object would have been found, I know for a fact Crate had a shrunken head confiscated. So you see, Malty can't have brought in anything dangerous!"
Momentarily steamied, I looked to where Chris was with Dena, his long, strong hands with flexible fingers stroking Dena's hair for a while before I saw a way around this objection.
"Someone's sent it to her by owl, then," I said. "Her father or someone."
"All the owls are being checked, too," said Sian. "Match told us so when he was jabbing those Secrecy Sensors everywhere he could reach."
Really stumped this time, I found nothing else to say. There did not seem to be any way Malty could have brought a dangerous or Dark object into the school. I looked hopefully at Chrissie, who was sitting with her arms folded, staring over at Larry Brown.
"Can you think of any way Malty - ?"
"Oh, drop it, Kiara," said Chrissie.
"Listen, it's not my fault Beadu invited Chris, Sian and I to her stupid party, none of us wanted to go, you know!" I said, firing up.
"Well, as I'm not invited to any parties," said Chrissie, getting to her feet again, "I think I'll got to bed."
She stomped off for the staircase to the dormitories, leaving Sian and I staring after her. After a few minutes had passed, I turned to stare at Chris again, and from where I was sitting I could see his forest-green eyes sparkling as brightly as the sun shining through dappled leaves, and for the second time that day I was taken aback by how bright and ... beautiful his eyes were when he was happy, and how dark they got when he was angry, for they looked as dark as darkened leaves.
"Kiara?" said the new Chaser, Danny Roberts, appearing suddenly at my shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. "I've got a message for you."
"From Professor Beadu?" I asked, sitting up hopefully.
"No ... from Professor Triphorm," said Danny. My heart sank. "She says you're to come to her office at half past eight tonight to do your detention - er - no matter how many party invitations you've received. And she wanted you to know you'll be sorting out Flobberwomrs from good ones, to use in Potions, and - and she says there's no need to bring protective gloves."
"Right," I said grimly. "Thanks a lot, Danny."