Chapter 20
Elf Tales
KIARA
"So, all in all, not one of Chrissie's better days?" said Tanya.
It was evening; the hospital wing was quiet, the windows curtained, the lamps lit. Chrissie's was the only occupied bed. Myself, the Dawsons and Tanya and Geri were sitting around her; we had spent all day sitting outside the double doors, trying to see inside whenever somebody went in or out. Matron had only let us in at eight o'clock; normally, Matron only allowed six visitors in, but seeing as I was close to Chrissie and all the Dawsons and Tanya and Geri were there (except for Sian, and we'll get to why shortly), she made the exception. Tanya and Geri had arrived at ten past.
"This isn't how we imagined meeting up with you guys," said Geri grimly.
"Yeah, when we pictured the scene, she was conscious," said Tanya.
"There we were in Dragsmede, waiting to surprise you all - " said Geri.
"You were in Dragsmede?" said Chris, looking up.
"We were thinking of buying Whacko's," said Tanya gloomily. "A Dragsmede branch, you know, but a fat lot of good it'll do if you lot aren't allowed out at weekends to buy our stuff any more ... but never mind that now."
She drew up a chair beside me and looked at Chrissie's pale face.
"How exactly did it happen, Kiara?"
I retold the story I had already recounted what felt like a hundred times to Crighton, to Darbus, to Matron and to the Dawsons.
" ... and then I got the bezoar down her throat and her breathing eased up a bit, Beadu ran for help, Darbus and Matron turned up, and they brought Chrissie up here. They reckon she'll be all right. Matron says she'll have to stay here a week or so ... keep taking Essence of Rue ..."
"Blimey, it was lucky you thought of a bezoar," said Geri in a low voice.
"Lucky there was one in the room," I said, and every time I thought of what would have happened if I had not been able to lay hands on that little stone, my blood went cold.
Ben then let go of a long, steadying breath. He had been exceptionally quiet all day. He was the first of the Dawsons to reach me outside the hospital wing and demand to know what had happened. He had taken no part in mine and the Dawson's discussion about how Chrissie had been poisoned, but merely stood beside us, clench-jawed and frightened-looking, until at last we had all been allowed in to see her.
Tanya looked around and, realising one of our number was missing, asked, "Where's Sian? It's not like her to be apart from her family at a time like this."
"Oh, I saw her earlier," I said. "It was just as Darbus and Matron were bringing Chrissie here. I think she was coming back from breakfast, I'm not sure. Anyway, she saw me and asked what had happened to Chrissie, so I told her that Chrissie had been poisoned, at which point she started to panic, thinking that she had lost her, but I calmed her down and told her that I had given her a bezoar, and that's all I said before she ran off. Where to, I don't - "
"She ran to us," said Kestrel softly. "Fortunately, we were all in the common room having just come back from breakfast ourselves, and we were just about to finish the last bit of homework we all had that weekend, when Sian comes barging through the portrait hole, looking white-faced and scared and, ignoring everyone else there, she looks right at us and said, 'Chrissie's been poisoned! She's all right, Kiara saved her, but she's unconscious! She's being taken to hospital right now! I'm going to get Ma!' Then she turned and ran, and nor a second later, we all abandoned our stuff and ran out of the portrait hole, too, and came here."
Tanya turned to Chris and asked, "So ... Uncle Matt and Aunt Sue - ?"
"They've been to see her. Ma came hours ago, and Dad came here about an hour ago - they're with Sian in Ma's office now, but they'll be back soon ..."
There was a pause while we all watched Chrissie mumble in her sleep.
"So the poison was in the drink?" said Tanya quietly.
"Yes," I said at once; I could think of nothing else and was glad for the opportunity to start discussing it again. "Beadu poured it out - "
"Would she have been able to slip something into Chrissie's glass without you seeing?"
"Probably," I said, "but why would Beadu want to poison Chrissie?"
"No idea," said Tanya, frowning. "You don't think she could have mixed up the glasses by mistake? Meaning to get to you?"
"Why would Beadu want to poison Kiara?" asked Chris.
"I dunno," said Tanya, "but there must be loads of people who'd like to poison Kiara, mustn't there? The 'Chosen One' and all that."
"So you think Beadu's a Love Destroyer?" said Merida incredulously.
"Anything's possible," said Tanya darkly.
"She could be under the Imperius Curse," said Geri.
"Or she could be innocent," said Chris. "The poison could have been in the bottle, in which case it was probably meant for Beadu herself."
"An excellent point, Chris," said Kestrel. Chris nodded at her.
"Who'd want to kill Beadu, though?" said Geri.
"Crighton reckons Zira wanted Beadu on her side," I said. "Beadu was in hiding a year before she came to Dragon Mort. And ..." I thought of the memory Crighton had not yet been able to extract from Beadu, "and maybe Zira wants her out of the way, maybe she thinks she could be valuable to Crighton."
"But you said Beadu had been planning to give that bottle to Ma for Christmas," Chris reminded me. "So the poisoner could just as easily have been after Ma."
"Then the poisoner didn't know Beadu very well," said Kestrel. "Anyone who knew Beadu would have known there was a good chance she'd keep something that tasty for herself."
"Kestrel's right," said Ben unexpectedly, speaking for the first time and sounding as though he had a bad head-cold. "I don't know Beadu that well, but from what I've heard from Sian, she likes a few tasty treats - not a lot, but a few."
"Ben-jee," croaked Chrissie unexpectedly.
We all fell silent, watching her anxiously, but after muttering incomprehensively for a moment she merely started snoring.
The dormitory doors flew open, making us all jump: Mina came striding towards us, her hair rain-flecked, her moleskin coat flapping around her, a crossbow in her hand, leaving a trail of muddy dolphin-sized footprints all over the floor.
"Bin in the Forest all day!" she panted. "Aratota's worse, I bin readin' to her - didn' get up ter dinner 'til jus' now an' then Spud told me abou' Chrissie! How is she?"
"Only close friends and family visiting the patient!" said Matron, hurrying out of her office.
"Mina is a close friend of Chrissie's," Geri pointed out.
"Oh ... yes ..." said Matron, who seemed to have been counting Mina as several people due to her vastness. To cover her confusion she hurried off to clear up her muddy footprints with her wand.
"I don' believe this," said Mina hoarsely, shaking her great head as she stared down at Chrissie. "Jus' don' believe it ... look at her lyin' there ... who'd want ter hurt her, eh?"
"That's what we were discussing," I said. "We don't know."
"Someone couldn' have a grudge against the Lion-Heart Quidditch team, could they?" said Mina anxiously. "Firs' Keith, now Chrissie ..."
"I can't see anyone trying to bump off a Quidditch team," said Geri.
"Cane might've done the Snake-Eyes if she could've got away with it," said Tanya fairly.
"Well, I don't think it's Quidditch, but I think there's a connection between the attacks," said Kestrel quietly.
"How'd you work that out?" asked Tanya.
"Well, for one thing, they both ought to have been fatal and weren't, although that was pure luck. And for another, neither the poison nor the necklace seems to have reached the person who was supposed to be killed. Of course," she added broodingly, "that makes the person behind this even more dangerous in a way, because they don't seem to care how many people they finish off before they actually reach their victim."
Before any of us could respond to this ominous pronouncement, the dormitory doors opened again and Mr Dawson, Crighton and Sian hurried up the ward. Mr Dawson and Crighton had done no more than satisfy themselves that Chrissie would make a full recovery on their last visit to the ward: now Sian ran to me and hugged me so hard that I staggered back a little.
"Thank you for saving my sister, Kiara," she mumbled. Then, pulling back, she smiled at me and said, "Ma told me how you saved her with the bezoar. Oh, Kiara, what can we say? You've saved my life a fair few times ... you saved Kestrel ... you saved my father ... now you've saved Chrissie ..."
"Don't be ... I didn't ..." I said awkwardly.
"Yes, you did, Kiara," said Crighton, her eyes sparkling with pride, even as tears rolled down her cheeks. "You have no idea how much good you've done for our family, Kiara. We truly are blessed to know you."
"Susan's right, for now that I think about it, half our family does seem to owe you their lives," said Mr Dawson in a constricted voice. "Well, all I can say is that it was a lucky day for the Dawsons when Sian decide to let you sit with her, Chris and Chrissie in the submarine, Kiara."
I could not think of any reply to this and I was almost glad when Matron said that only the Dawsons and Tanya and Geri were allowed in; I rose at once to leave and Mina came with me, leaving Chrissie with her family.
"It's terrible," growled Mina, as the two of us walked back along the corridor to the marble staircase. "All this new security, an' kids are still gettin' hurt ... Crighton's worried sick ... she don' say much, but I can tell ..."
"Hasn't she got any ideas, Mina?" I asked.
"I 'spect she's got hundreds of ideas, brain like hers," said Mina staunchily. "But she doesn' know who sent that necklace nor who put poison in that wine, or they'd've bin caught, wouldn' they? Wha' worries me," said Mina, lowering her voice and glancing over her shoulder (for good measure, I checked the ceiling for Weeves), "is how long Dragon Mort can stay open if kids are bein' attacked. Chamber o' Mysteries all over again, isn' it? There'll be panc, more parents takin' their kids outta school, an' nex' thing yeh know the board o' governors ..."
Mina stopped talking as the ghost of a man wearing a pointed wizard's hat drifted serenely past, then resumed in a hoarse whisper, "... the board o' governors'll be talkin' about shuttin' us up fer good."
"No!" I said, shocked.
"Gotta see it from their point o' view," said Mina heavily. "I mean, it's always bin a bit of a risk sendin' a kid ter Dragon Mort, hasn' it? Yer expect accidents, don' yeh, with hundreds of under-age wizards all locked up together, but attempted murder, tha's diff'rent. No wonder Crighton's angry with Tr- "
Mina stopped in her tracks, a familiar, guilty expression on her face.
"What?" I said quickly. "Crighton's angry with Triphorm?"
"I never said tha'," said Mina, though her look of panic could not have been a bigger giveaway. "Look at the time, it's gettin' on fer midnight, I need ter - "
"Mina, why is Crighton angry with Triphorm?" I asked loudly.
"Shhhh!" said Mina, looking both nervous and angry. "Don' shout stuff like that, Kiara, d'you wan' me ter lose me job? Mind, I don' suppose you'd care, would yeh, not now you've given up Care of Mag- "
"Don't try and make me feel guilty, it won't work!" I said forcefully. "What's Triphorm done - ?"
"I dunno, Kiara, I shouldn'ta heard it at all! I - well, I was comin' outta the Forest the other evenin' an' I overheard 'em talkin' - well, arguin'. Didn't like ter draw attention to meself, so I sorta skulked an' tried not ter listen, but it was a - well, a heated discussion, an' it wasn' easy ter block out."
"Well?" I urged her, as Mina shuffled her enormous feet uneasily.
"Well - I jus' heard Triphorm sayin' Crighton took too much fer granted an maybe she - Triphorm - didn' wan' ter do it any more - "
"Do what?"
"I dunno, Kiara, it sounded like Triphorm was feelin' a bit overworked, tha's all - anyway, Crighton told her flat out she'd agreed ter do it an' that was all there was to it. Pretty firm with her. An' then she said summat about Triphorm makin' investigations in her house, in Snake-Eyes. Well, there's nothing's strange abou' that!" Mina added hastily, as I shot her a look full of meaning. "All the Heads o' House were asked ter look inter that necklace business - "
"Yeah, but Crighton's not having rows with the rest of them, is she?" I said.
"Look," Mina twisted her crossbow uncomfortably in her hands; there was a loud splintering sound and it snapped in two, "I know what yeh're like abou' Triphorm, Kiara, an' I don' want yeh ter go readin' more inter this than there is."
Before I could respond a wheezy "Oho!" sounded behind us. We turned round and saw Douglas Match standing at the end of the corridor, hunchbacked, his jowls aquiver.
"Out of bed so late, Pride-Lander, this'll mean detention for you!"
"No it won', Match," said Mina shortly. "She's with me, isn' she?"
"And what difference does that make?" asked Match obnoxiously.
"I'm a ruddy teacher, aren' I, yeh sneakin' Squib?" said Mina, firing up at once.
There was a nasty hissing noise as Match swelled with fury; Mrs Robbs had arrived, unseen, and was twisting herself sinuously around Match's skinny ankles.
"Get goin'," said Mina out of the corner of her mouth.
I did not need telling twice; I hurried off, Mina and Match's raised voices echoing behind me as I ran. I passed Weeves near the turning into Lion-Heart Tower, but she was streaking happily towards the source of the yelling, cackling and calling,
"When there's strife and when there's trouble,
Call on Weevsie, she'll make double!"
The Fat Lord was sleeping and was not pleased to be woken up, but swung forwards grumpily to allow me to clamber into the mercifully peaceful and empty common room. I knew that people had heard Sian saying that Chrissie had been poisoned, but seeing the lateness of the hour, they might have assumed that none of us would be coming back from the hospital wing until the following morning, and therefore had decided to get to bed; I was very relieved, for I had been interrogated enough that day, and all I wanted was to be left alone with my thoughts, so I took a seat beside the fire and looked down into the dying embers.
So Crighton had argued with Triphorm. In spite of all that she had told me, in spite of her insistence that she trusted Triphorm completely, she had lost her temper with her ... she did not think that Triphorm had tried hard enough to investigate the Snake-Eyes ... or, perhaps, to investigate a single Snake-Eye: Malty?
Was it because Crighton did not want me to do anything foolish, to take matters into my own hands, that she had pretended there was nothing in my suspicions? That seemed likely. It might have been that Crighton did not want anything to distract me from our lessons, or from procuring that memory from Beadu. Perhaps Crighton did not think it right to confide her suspicions about her staff to sixteen-year-olds ...
"There you are, Pride-Lander!"
I jumped to my feet in shock, my wand at the ready. I had been quite convinced that the common room was empty; I had not been at all prepared for a hulking figure to rise, suddenly, out of a distant chair. A closer look showed me that it was Conrad MacGuire.
"I've been waiting for you to come back," said MacGuire, disregarding my drawn wand. "Must've fallen asleep. Look, I saw them taking Dawson up to the hospital wing earlier. Doesn't look like she'll be fit for next week's match."
It took me a few moments to realise what MacGuire was talking about.
"Oh ... right ... Quidditch," I said, putting my wand back into the belt of my jeans and running a hand wearily through my hair. "Yeah ... she might not make it."
"Well, then, I'll be playing Keeper, won't I?" said MacGuire.
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I suppose so ..."
I could not think of an argument against it: after all, MacGuire had certainly performed second best in the trials.
"Excellent," said MacGuire in a satisfied voice. "So when's practice?"
"What? Oh ... there's one tomorrow evening."
"Good. Listen, Pride-Lander, we should have a talk beforehand. I've got some ideas on strategy you might find useful."
"Right," I said unenthusiastically. "Well, I'll hear them tomorrow, then. I'm pretty tired now ... see you ..."
The news that Chrissie had been poisoned spread quickly next day, but it did not cause the sensation that Keith's attack had done. People seemed to think that it might have been an accident, given that she had been in the Potion mistress' room at the time, and that as she had been give an antidote immediately there was no real harm done. In fact, the Lion-Hearts were generally much more interested in the upcoming Quidditch match against Badger-Stripes, for many of them wanted to see Zhi Smith, who played Chaser on the Badger-Stripes team, punished soundly for her commentary during the opening match against Snake-Eyes.
I, however, had never been less interested in Quidditch; I was rapidly becoming obsessed with Dani Malty. Still checking the Scallywag's Map whenever I got a chance, I sometimes made detours to wherever Malty happened to be, but I had not yet detected her doing anything out of the ordinary. And still there were those inexplicable times when Malty simply vanished from the Map ...
But I did not get a lot of time to consider the problem, what with Quidditch practice, homework, and the fact that I was now being dogged wherever I went by Conrad MacGuire and Larry Brown.
I could not - and still can't - decide which of them was more annoying. MacGuire kept up a constant stream of hints that he would make a better permanent Keeper for the team than Chrissie, and that now I was seeing him play regularly I would sure come around to this way of thinking, too; he was also keen to criticise the other players and provide me with detailed training schemes, so that more than once I was forced to remind him who was Captain.
Meanwhile, Larry kept sidling up to me to discuss Chrissie, which I found almost more wearing than MacGuire's Quidditch lectures. At first, Larry had been very annoyed that nobody ha thought to tell him that Chrissie was in the hospital wing - "I mean, I am his boyfriend!" - but unfortunately he had now decided to forgive me this lapse of memory and was keen to have lots of in-depth chats with me about Chrissie's feelings, a most uncomfortable experience that I would have happily foregone.
"Look, why don't you talk to Chrissie about all this?" I asked, after a particularly long interrogation from Larry that took in everything from precisely what Chrissie had said about his taste in music to whether or not I thought that Chrissie considered her relationship with Larry to be 'serious'.
"Well, I would, but she's always asleep when I go and see her!" said Larry fretfully.
"Is she?" I said, surprised, for I had found Chrissie perfectly alert every time I had been up to the hospital wing, both highly interested in the news of Crighton and Triphorm's row and keen to abuse MacGuire as much as possible.
"Is that older sister of hers, Sian, still visiting her?" Larry demanded suddenly.
"Yeah, I think so. Well, they're sisters, aren't they?" I said uncomfortably.
"Sisters, don't make me laugh," said Larry scornfully. "She didn't talk to Chrissie for weeks after she started going out with me! But I suppose she wants to make up with her now she's all interesting ..."
"Would you call being poisoned interesting?" I asked. "Besides, they're sisters, and yes, I know that they haven't been acting like sisters lately, but I'm sure that all sisters fall out over things at some point or other. And I'm sorry, but if you can't get along with Sian, Larry, then I think your relationship with Chrissie is - sorry, got to go - there's MacGuire coming to talk about Quidditch," I said hurriedly, and I dashed sideways through a door pretending to be solid wall and sprinted down the shortcut that would take me off to Potions where, thankfully, neither Larry nor MacGuire could follow me.
Now during this time, I had found the time to write to my parents once again, although how I found the time to do so, I don't know. But I did, and this is that letter.
Dear Daddy and Mum,
I hope your both all right, especially Mum after that long night of labour. I got your letter and I love that picture you sent me of Kion. He's so cute. I love him. I've already gotten compliments off people about him, and many people have asked me to send you their congratulations, Professors Darbus and Beadu included. I can't wait to meet him, either. How are you both handling him, anyway? Is he keeping you up all night? Is he giving you the run around each and every day? Please tell me as much as you can in your next letter.
Well not much has happened here, except that Chrissie got poisoned, but you probably knew that from Crighton, didn't you? but if you haven't heard, I have to tell you now that she's all right, for I saved her by putting a bezoar down her throat. She's in hospital for the time being, but hopefully she'll be out in a couple of days. The only problem now is that I've got two people on my case all the time: Larry Brown, Chrissie's boyfriend, who wants to talk to me about nothing but Chrissie, and Conrad MacGuire, who has to replace Chrissie as Keeper for the time being, but he's a right piece of work; he keeps trying to take over all our positions on the pitch, thinking he can do all our jobs better than we can. I can't tell you the amount of times I've had to remind him who's the Captain. Honestly, I think his ego's about the size of the Quidditch pitch. I can't wait to have Chrissie back as Keeper, and I think the rest of the team feel the same way.
Well, I've got to go. Give my love to Kion for me.
Lots of love,
Your daughter - and sister,
Kiara
On the morning of the Quidditch match against Badger-Stripes I dropped in on the hospital wing before heading down to the pitch. Chrissie was very agitated; Matron would not let her go down to watch the match, feeling it would overexcite her.
"So how's MacGuire shaping up?" she asked me nervously, apparently forgetting that she had already asked the same question twice.
"I've told you," I said patiently, "he could be world class and I wouldn't want to keep him. He keeps trying to tell everyone what to do, he thinks he could play every position better than the rest of us. I can't wait to be shot of him. And speaking of getting shot of people," I added, getting to my feet and picking up my Firecracker, "will you stop pretending to be asleep when Larry comes to see you? He's driving me mad as well."
"Oh," said Chrissie, looking sheepish. "Yeah. All right."
"If you don't want to go out with him any more, just tell him," I said.
"Yeah ... well ... it's not that easy, is it?" said Chrissie. She paused. "Are Sian and Ben going to look in before the match?" she added casually.
"No, they've already gone down to the pitch with Chris."
"Oh," said Chrissie, looking rather glum. "Right. Well, good luck. Hope you hammer Mac- I mean, Smith."
"I'll try," I said, shouldering my broom. "See you after the match."
I hurried down through the deserted corridors; the whole school was outside, either already seated in the stadium or heading down towards it. I was looking out of the windows as I passed, trying to gauge how much wind we were facing, when a noise ahead of me made me glance up and I saw Malty, walking towards me, accompanied by two boys, both of whom looked sulky and resentful.
Malty stopped short at the sight of me, then gave me a short, humourless laugh and continued walking.
"Where're you going?" I demanded.
"Yeah, I'm really going to tell you, because it's your business, Pride-Lander," sneered Malty. "You'd better hurry up, they'll be waiting for the Chosen Captain - the Girl Who Scored - whatever they call you these days."
One of the boys gave an unwilling chuckle. I stared at him. He flushed. Malty pushed past me and she and her two friends followed at a trot, turning the corner and vanishing from view.
I stood rooted on the spot and watched them disappear. This was infuriating; I was already cutting it fine to get to the match on time and yet there was Malty, skulking off while the rest of the school was absent: my best chance yet of discovering what Malty was up to. The silent seconds trickled past, and I remained where I was, frozen, gazing at the place where Malty had vanished ...
"Where have you been?" demanded Chris, as I sprinted into the changing room. The whole team was changed and ready; Cartwright and Peet, the Beaters, were both hitting their clubs nervously against their legs.
"I met Malty," I told him quietly, as I pulled my scarlet robes over my head.
"So?"
"So I wanted to know how come she's up at the castle with a couple of boyfriends while everyone else is down here ..."
"Does it matter right now?"
"Well, I'm not likely to find out, am I?" I said, seizing my Firecracker. "Come on, then!"
And without another word, I marched out on to the pitch to deafening cheers and boos. There was little wind; the clouds were patchy; every now and then there were dazzling flashes of bright sunlight.
"Tricky conditions!" MacGuire said bracingly to my team. "Cartwright, Peet, you'll want to fly out of the sun, so they don't see you coming - "
"I'm the Captain, MacGuire, shut up giving them instructions," I said angrily. "Just get up by the goalposts!"
Once MacGuire had marched off, I turned to Cartwright and Peet.
"Make sure you do fly out of the sun," I told them grudgingly.
I shook hands with the Badger-Stripes Captain, and then, on Sir Turner's whistle, I kicked off and rose into the air, higher than the rest of my team, streaking around the pitch in search of the Snitch. If I could catch it good and early, there might be a chance I could get back up to the castle, seize the Scallywag's Map and find out what Malty was doing ...
"And that's Smith of Badger-Stripes with the Quaffle," said a dreamy voice, echoing over the grounds. "She did the commentary last time, of course, and Chris Rickers flew into her, I think probably on purpose - it looked like it. Smith was being quite rude about Lion-Heart, I expect she regrets it now she's playing them - oh, look, she's lost the Quaffle, Chris took it from her, I do like him, he's very nice ..."
I looked down at the commentator's podium. Surely, I thought, nobody in their right mind would have let Lincoln Lovedream commentate. But even from above there was no mistaking that short dirt-blond hair, or the necklace of Butterbeer corks ... Beside Lincoln, Professor Darbus was looking slightly uncomfortable, as though she was indeed having second thoughts about this appointment ...
" ... but now that big Badger-Stripes player's got the Quaffle from him, I can't remember her name. It's something like Blabber - no, Buggles - "
"It's Clearwater!" said Professor Darbus loudly from beside Lincoln. The crowd laughed.
I stared around for the Snitch; there was no sign of it. Moments later, Clearwater scored. MacGuire had been shouting criticism at Chris for allowing the Quaffle out of his possession, with the result that he had not noticed the large red ball soaring past his right ear.
"MacGuire, will you pay attention to what you're supposed to be doing and leave everyone else alone!" I bellowed, wheeling round to face my Keeper.
"You're not setting a great example!" MacGuire shouted back, red-faced and furious.
"And Kiara Pride-Lander's now having an argument with her Keeper," said Lincoln serenely, while both Badger-Stripes and Snake-Eyes below in the crowd cheered and jeered. "I don't think that'll help her find the Snitch, but maybe it's a clever ruse ..."
Muttering angrily under my breath, I spun round and set off around the pitch again, scanning the skies for some sign of the tiny winged golden ball.
Chris and Danny scored a goal apiece, giving the red-and-gold-clad supporters below something to cheer about. Then Clearwater scored again, making things level, but Lincoln did not seem to have noticed; he appeared singularly uninterested in such mundane things as the score, and kept attempting to draw the crowd's attention to such things as interestingly shaped clouds and the possibility that Zhi Smith, who had so far failed to maintain possession of the Quaffle for longer than a minute, was suffering from something called 'Loser's Lurgy'.
"Seventy - forty to Badger Stripes!" barked Professor Darbus into Lincoln's megaphone.
"Is it, already?" said Lincoln vaguely. "Oh, look! The Lion-Heart Keeper's got hold of one of the Beater's bats."
I spun round in mid-air. MacGuire, for reasons best known to himself, had pulled Peet's bat from her hand and appeared to be demonstrating how to hit a Bludger towards an oncoming Clearwater.
"Will you give her back her bat and get back to the goalposts!" I roared, pelting towards MacGuire just as MacGuire took a ferocious swipe at a Bludger and mis-hit it.
I felt a blinding, sickening pain ... saw a flash of light ... heard distant screams ... and then I felt the sensation of falling down a long tunnel ...
And the next thing I knew, I was laying in a remarkably warm and comfortable bed and looking up at a lamp that was throwing a circle of golden light on to a shadowy ceiling. I raised my head awkwardly. There on my left was a familiar-looking, freckly, brown-haired person.
"Nice of you to drop in," said Chrissie, grinning.
I blinked and looked around. Of course: I was in the hospital wing. The sky outside was indigo streaked with crimson. The match must have finished hours ago ... as had any hope of cornering Malty. My head felt strangely heavy; I raised a hand and I felt a stiff turban of bandages.
"What happened?"
"Cracked skull," said Matron, bustling up and pushing me back against my pillows. "Nothing to worry about, I mended it at once, but I'm keeping you in overnight. You shouldn't overexert yourself for a few hours."
"I don't want to stay here overnight," I said angrily, sitting up and throwing back my covers, "I want to find MacGuire and kill him."
"I'm afraid that would come under the heading of 'overexertion'," said Matron, pushing me firmly back on to the bed and raising her wand in a threatening manner. "You will stay here until I discharge you, Pride-Lander, or I shall call the Headmistress."
She bustled back into her office and I sank back into my pillows, fuming.
"D'you know how much we lost by?" I asked Chrissie through clenched teeth.
"Well, yeah, I do," said Chrissie apologetically. "Final score was three hundred and twenty to sixty."
"Brilliant," I said savagely. "Really brilliant! When I get hold of MacGuire - "
"You don't want to get hold of him, he's the size of a troll," said Chrissie reasonably. "Personally I think there's a lot to be said for hexing him with that toenail things of the Princess'. Anyway, the rest of the team might've dealt with him before you get out of here, they're not happy ..."
There was a note of badly suppressed glee in Chrissie's voice; I could tell that she was nothing short of thrilled that MacGuire had messed up so badly. I lay there, staring up at the patch of light on the ceiling, my recently mended skull not hurting, precisely, but feeling slightly tender underneath all the bandaging.
"I could hear the match commentary from here," said Chrissie, her voice now shaking with laughter. "I hope Lincoln commentates from now on ... Loser's Lurgy ..."
But I was still too angry to see much humour in the situation, and after a while Chrissie's giggles subsided.
"Chris came in to visit while you were unconscious," she said, after a long pause, and my imagination zoomed into overdrive, rapidly constructing a scene in which Chris, holding my hand and bent over my lifeless form confessed his feelings of deep attraction to me while Chrissie gave us her blessing ... "He reckons you only just arrived in time for the match. How come? You left here early enough."
"Oh ..." I said, as the scene in my mind's eye imploded. "Yeah ... well, I saw Malty sneaking off with a couple of boys who didn't look like they wanted to be with her, and that's the second time she's made sure she isn't down on the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school. She skipped the last match too, remember?" I sighed. "Wished I'd followed her now, the match was such a fiasco ..."
"Don't be stupid," said Chrissie sharply. "You couldn't have missed a Quidditch match just to follow Malty, you're the Captain!"
"I want to know what she's up to," I said. "And don't tell me it's all in my head, not after what I overheard between her and Triphorm - "
"I never said it was all in your head," said Chrissie, hoisting herself up on an elbow in turn and frowning at me, "but there's no rule saying only one person at a time can be plotting anything in this place! You're getting a bit obsessed with Malty, Kiara. I mean, thinking about missing a match just to follow her ..."
"I want to catch her at it!" I said in frustration. "I mean, where's she going when she disappears off the Map?"
"I dunno ... Dragsmeade?" suggested Chrissie, yawning.
"I've never seen her going along any of the secret passageways on the Map. I thought they were being watched now, anyway?"
"Well, then, I dunno," said Chrissie.
Silence fell between us. I stared up at the circle of lamplight above me, thinking ...
I wished that I had Rowena Scrimwazz's power, for then I would have been able to set a trail upon Malty, but unfortunately I did not have an office full of Aurors at my command ... I then thought fleetingly of trying to set something up with the CA, but there again was the problem that people would be missed from lessons; most of them, after all, still had full timetables ...
There was a low, rumbling snore from Chrissie's bed. After a while, Matron came out of her office, this time wearing a thick dressing-gown. It was easiest to feign sleep; I rolled over on to my side and listened to all the curtains closing themselves as she waved her wand. The lamps dimmed, and she returned to her office; I heard the door click behind her, and I knew that she was off to bed.
This was, I reflected in the darkness, the third time that I had been brought to the hospital wing because of a Quidditch injury. Last time I had fallen off my broomstick due to the presence of the Stingers around the pitch, and the time before that, all the bones had been removed from my arm by an incurably inept Professor Gold ... that had been my most painful injury by far ... I remembered the agony of regrowing an armful of bones in one night, a discomfort not eased by the arrival of an unexpected visitor in the middle of the -
I sat bolt upright, my heard pounding, my bandage turban askew. I had the solution at last: there was a way to have Malty followed - how could I have forgotten, why hadn't I thought of it before?
But the question was, how to call her? What did you do?
Quietly, tentatively, I spoke into the darkness.
"Kleaner?"
There was a very loud crack and the sound of scuffling and squeals filled the silent room. Chrissie awoke with a yelp.
"What's going - ?"
I pointed my wand hastily at the door of Matron's office and muttered "Muffliato!" so that she would not come running. I then scrambled to the end of my bed for a better look at what was going on.
Two house-elves were rolling around on the floor in the middle of the dormitory, one wearing a multi-coloured shrunken jumper and several woolly hats, the other, a filthy old pair of rags thrown over her top and bottom. Then there was another loud bang, and Weeves the poltergeist appeared in mid-air above the wrestling elves.
"I was watching that, Pridey!" she told me indignantly, pointing at the fight below, before letting out a loud cackle. "Look at the ickle creatures squabbling, bitey bitey, punchy punchy - "
"Kleaner will not insult Kiara Pride-Lander in front of Dokey, no she won't, or Dokey will shut Kleaner's mouth for her!" cried Dokey in a high-pitched voice.
" - kicky, scratchy!" cried Weeves happily, now pelting bits of chalk at the elves to enrage them further. "Tweaky, pokey!"
"Kleaner will say what she likes about her young mistress, oh yes, and what a mistress she is, filthy friend of Sackbrains and Mudbloods, oh, what would poor Kleaner's Mistress say - "
Exactly what Kleaner's mistress would have said we did not find out, for at that moment Dokey sank her knobbly little fist into Kleaner's mouth and knocked out several of her teeth. Chrissie and I both leapt out of our beds and wrenched the two elves apart, though they continued to try and kick and punch each other, egged on by Weeves, who swooped around the lamp squealing, "Stick your fingers up her nosey, draw her cork and pull her earsies - "
I aimed my wand at Weeves and said, "Langlock!" Weeves clutched at her throat, gulped, and then swooped from the room making obscene gestures but unable to speak, owing to the fact that her tongue had just glued itself to the roof of her mouth.
"Nice one," said Chrissie appreciatively, lifting Dokey into the air so that her flailing limbs no longer made contact with Kleaner. "That was another Princess hex, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," I said, twisting Kleaner's wizened arm into a half-nelson. "Right - I'm forbidding you to fight each other! Well, Kleaner, you're forbidden to fight Dokey. Dokey, I know I'm not allowed to give you orders - "
"Dokey is a free house-elf and she can obey anyone she likes and Dokey will do whatever Kiara Pride-Lander wants her to do!" said Dokey, tears now streaming down her shrivelled little face on to her jumper.
"OK, then," I said, and Chrissie and I released the elves, who fell to the floor, but did not continue fighting.
"Young mistress called me?" croaked Kleaner, sinking into a curtsey, even as she gave me a look that plainly wished me a painful death.
"Yeah, I did," I said, glancing towards Matron's office door to check that the Muffliato spell was still working; there was no sign that she had heard any of the commotion. "I've got a job for you."
"Kleaner will do whatever young Mistress wants," said Kleaner, sinking so low that her lips almost touched her gnarled toes, "because Kleaner has no choice, but Kleaner is ashamed to have such a Mistress, yes - "
"Dokey will do it, Kiara Pride-Lander!" squeaked Dokey, her tennis-ball-sized eyes still swimming with tears. "Dokey would be honoured to help Kiara Pride-Lander!"
"Come to think of it, it would be good to have both of you," I said. "Ok, then ... I want you to tail Dani Malty."
Ignoring the look of mingled surprise and exasperation on Chrissie's face, I went on, "I want to know where she's going, who she's meeting and what she's doing. I want you to follow her around the clock."
"Yes, Kiara Pride-Lander!" said Dokey at once, her great eyes shining with excitement. "And if Dokey does it wrong, Dokey will throw herself off the topmost tower, Kiara Pride-Lander!"
"There won't be any need for that," I said hastily.
"Mistress wants me to follow the youngest of the Malty's?" croaked Kleaner. "Young Mistress wants me to spy upon the pure-blood great-niece of my old mistress?"
"That's the one," I said, foreseeing a great danger and determining to prevent it immediately. "And you're forbidden to tip her off, Kleaner, or to show her what you're up to, or to talk to her at all, or to write her messages, or ... or to contact her in any way. Got it?"
I thought I could see Kleaner struggling to see a loophole in the instructions she had just been given, and I waited. After a moment or two, and to my great satisfaction, Kleaner curtseyed deeply and said, with bitter resentment, "Young Mistress thinks of everything and Kleaner must obey her even though Kleaner would much rather be the servant of the Malty girl, oh yes ..."
"That's settled, then," I said. "I'll want regular reports, but make sure I'm not surrounded by people when you turn up. Chris, Sian and Chrissie are OK. And don't tell anyone what you're doing. Just stick to Malty like a couple of wart plasters."