Chapter 14
Beaubatons and Uagadou
KIARA
Early the next morning, I awoke with a plan fully formed in my mind, as though my sleeping brain had been working on it all night. I got up, dressed in the pale dawn light, left the dormitory without waking Sian, Chrissie or any of the others and went down to the deserted common room. Once there I took a piece of parchment from the table where my Divination homework still lay, and wrote the following letter:
Dear Daddy and Mum,
I reckon I just imagined my scar hurting, for I was half-asleep when I wrote to you the last time. There's no point coming back, everything's fine here. Don't worry about me, my head feels completely normal.
Love,
Kiara
I then decided to write to Grandmother Sarabi, so I picked up another piece of parchment and wrote:
Dear Grandmother Sarabi,
I hope you and Grandmother Sarafina are well. Interesting news about the Triwizard Tournament coming back. Anyway, I got news from my parents last night, saying that they are coming back, and now I'm worried that they will be chucked back in Azkaban because I wrote to them and told them about my scar hurting. I mean, I told you, so - and bear in mind, I'm not trying to be cruel here - there was no need for me to tell them, was there?
Got to go. Give my love to Grandmother Sarafina.
Lots of love,
Kiara
I then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Weeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on me halfway along the fourth-floor corridor), and finally arrived at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.
The Owlery was a circular stone room; rather cold and draughty, because none of the windows had glass in them. The floor was entirely covered in straw, owl droppings and the regurgitated skeletons of mice and voles. Hundreds upon hundreds of owls of every breed imaginable were nestled here on perches that rose right to the top of the tower, nearly all of them asleep, though here and there a round amber eye glared at me. I spotted Harold nestled between a barn owl and a tawny, and I hurried over to him, sliding a little on the dropping-strewn floor.
It took me a little while to persuade him to wake up and then to look at me as he kept shuffling around on his perch, showing me his tail. He was evidently still furious about my lack of gratitude the previous night. In the end, it was my suggestion of that he might be too tired, and that perhaps I would ask Chrissie to borrow Piggledon, that made him stick out his leg and allowed me to tie my parent' letter to it.
"Just find them, all right?" I said, stroking his back as I carried him on my arm to one of the holes in the wall. "Before the Stingers do."
He nipped my finger, perhaps rather harder than he would ordinarily have done, but hooted softly in a reassuring sort of way all the same. He then spread his wings and took off into the sunrise, and when I could no longer see him, I turned to another owl, tied the letter to Grandmother Sarabi to it and let it fly. I watched that one go out of sight with the familiar feeling of unease back in my stomach, thinking of my parents as I did so. I had been so sure that my parents' reply would alleviate my worries rather than increase them.
0000
"That was a lie, Kiara," said Sian sharply over breakfast, when I told her, Chris and Chrissie what I had done. "You didn't imagine your scar hurting and you know it."
"So what?" I said. "They're not going back to Azkaban because of me."
"That may be!" Sian answered back, a fire burning in her eyes which made me tremble slightly. "But they're your parents, Kiara, and whether you like it or not, they are going to stand by your side through the good times and the bad to help you, and be there to guide and protect you. I know you're scared of them being sent back to Azkaban, Kiara," Sian said in a slightly softer tone, before I could say anything, "but the only reason they're coming back is because they care about you, are concerned for you and want to be close to where you are as possible. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" she finished, looking at me pointedly, which shut me up and ended the conversation.
I did my best not to worry about my parents over the next couple of weeks that followed after I sent the letter to my parents. True, I could not stop myself looking anxiously around every morning when the post owls arrived, nor late at night before I went to sleep, preventing myself from seeing horrible visions of my parents cornered by Stingers down some dark cornered street, but between these times I tried to keep my mind off my parents. I remember wishing that I still had Quidditch to distract me, for I found that nothing worked so well on a troubled mind as a good, hard training session. However, saying that, I did receive a reply from Grandmother Sarabi a few days after I had sent my letter to her. The reply reads thus:
My dearest Kiara,
I'm glad you find the news of the Triwizard Tournament interesting, and I'm glad that the Ministry is putting enchantments in place, so that there is no way that you will be put in any danger this year.
About your parents, though, I know that you're worried about them being shipped back off back to Azkaban, as are myself and Sarafina, but we are trying not to be, and so should you. They will be safe, my darling, for we have Crighton on our side, after all. Don't forget about that.
Sarafina is well, my darling, and she sends you her love. And she and I want to give our best to Chris, Sian and Chrissie.
Lots of love,
Grandmother Sarabi
Once I had read this, I did feel slightly comforted, but there was still a lingering fear in the back of my mind that they were going to be captured, but it did take a little bit of weight of my mind - but let's get off my anxieties for a while, shall we?
Anyhoo, our lessons were becoming more difficult and demanding than ever before, Defence Against the Dark Arts in particular.
To our surprise, Professor Grumpy had announced that she would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us in turn, to demonstrate its power and to see whether we could resist its effects.
"But - but you said it's illegal, Professor," said Sian uncertainly, as Grumpy cleared away the desks with a sweep of her wand, leaving a large clear space in the middle of the room. "You said - to use it against another human was - "
"Crighton wants you to be taught what it feels like," said Grumpy, one of her magical eyes swivelling onto Sian and fixing her with an eerie, unblinking stare. "If you'd rather learn the hard way - when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely - then fine by me. You're excused. Off you go."
She pointed one gnarled finger towards the door. Sian went very pink, and muttered something about not meaning that she wanted to leave. Chris, Chrissie and I grinned at each other, for we knew that Sian would rather ear Bubotuber pus than miss such an important lesson.
One by one, each of us was called forward by Grumpy and were put the Imperius Curse on. I remember watching my fellow classmates do the most extraordinary things under its influence. Dena Wright skipped three times around the room, singing the national anthem. Larry Brown imitated a chipmunk. Nikita performed a series of intricate dance steps and flips that she certainly would not have been able to accomplish in her normal state. Not one of them seemed to be able to fight off the curse, and each of them only recovered when Grumpy had removed it.
"Pride-Lander," Grumpy growled, "you next."
I took a deep breath for courage before I moved forward into the middle of the classroom, into the space that Grumpy had cleared of desks. I looked nervously at the wand, wondering what was going to happen to me once I had been put under the curse's effects. But I had no time to think about it any longer, for next second Grumpy had raised her wand, pointed it at me and said, "Imperio."
I don't know what I was worried about, for what I felt was a wonderful feeling. I felt a floating sensation as though every thought and worry in my head was wiped gently away, leaving nothing but a vague, untraceable happiness. I stood there feeling immensely relaxed, and I was only dimly aware of everyone watching me.
And then I head Crazy-Head Grumpy's voice, echoing in some distant chamber of my empty brain: Jump onto the desk ... jump onto the desk ...
I bent my knees obediently, preparing to spring.
Jump onto the desk ...
Why, though?
Another voice had awoken in the back of my brain. Stupid thing to do, really, said the voice.
Jump onto the desk ...
No, I don't think I will, thanks, said the other voice a little more firmly ... no, I don't really want to ...
Jump! NOW!
The next thing I felt was considerable pain. I had both jumped and had tried to prevent myself from jumping - the result was that I'd smashed headlong into the desk, knocking it over, and, by the feeling in my legs, fractured both my kneecaps.
"Now, that's more like it!" growled Grumpy's voice, and suddenly, I felt the empty, echoing feeling in my head disappear. I remembered exactly what was happening, and the pain in my knees seemed to double.
"Look at that, you lot ... Pride-Lander fought it! She fought it, and she damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Pride-Lander, and the rest of you, pay attention - watch her eyes, that's where you'll see it - very good, Pride-Lander, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling you!"
"The way she talks," I muttered, as I hobbled out of the Defence Against the Dark Arts class an hour later (Grumpy had insisted on putting me through my paces four times in a row, until I could throw the curse off completely), "you'd think we were all going to be attacked any second."
"Yeah, I know," said Chrissie, who was hopping on every alternate step. She had much more difficulty with the curse than I did, though Grumpy had assured her that the effects would have worn off by lunchtime. "Talk about paranoid ..." Chrissie then glanced nervously over her shoulder to check that Grumpy was definitely out of earshot, and went on, "No wonder they were glad to get shot of her at the Ministry. Did you hear her telling Zara what she did to that wizard who shouted "boo" behind her on April Fool's Day? And when are we supposed to read up on resisting the Imperius Curse with everything else we've got to do?"
We fourth-years had noticed a definite increase in the amount of work we were required to do that term. Professor Darbus explained why, when we all gave a particularly loud groan at the amount of Transfiguration homework she had set.
"You are now entering a most important phase of your education!" she told us, her eyes glinting dangerously behind her square spectacles. "Your Ordinary Wizarding Levels are drawing closer - "
"We don't take OWLs 'til fifth year!" said Dena Wright indignantly.
"Maybe not, Wright, but believe me, you need all the preparation you can get! The Eldest Dawson Girl remains the only person in this class who has managed to turn a hedgehog into a satisfactory pincushion. I might remind you that your pincushion, Wright, still curls up in fright if anyone approaches it with a pin!"
Sian, who had turned rather pink again, tried not to look too smug about this, but that did not stop her throwing a bit of hair behind her back with her hand once we left.
Chrissie and I were both deeply amused when Professor Crystals told us that we had received top marks for our homework in our next Divination class. He read out large portions of our predictions, commending us for our unflinching acceptance of the horrors in store for us - but we were less amused when he asked us to do the same thing for the month after next, for the pair of us were running out of ideas for catastrophes.
Meanwhile, Professor Yawn, the ghost who taught History of Magic, had us writing weekly essays on the faun rebellions of the mid-eighteenth century: Professor Triphorm was forcing us to research antidotes, which we all took very seriously, as she had hinted that she might be poisoning one of us before Christmas to see if the student's antidote she chose worked. Professor Winds had asked us to read three extra books in preparation for our lesson on Summoning Charms.
Even Mina was adding to our workload. The Shudder-Ended Crabs were not only growing at a remarkable pace, given that nobody had yet discovered what they ate, but the big pincer on the end of its body had started to smoke, and every so often, a small flash of fire would flicker. Mina was delighted about both of these things and, as part of our "project", suggested that we went down to her hut on alternate evenings to observe the Crabs and make notes on their - er - extraordinary behaviour.
"I will not," said Dani Malty flatly, when Mina had proposed this with the air of Father Christmas pulling an extra toy out of his sack. "I see enough of these foul things during lessons, thanks."
Mina's smile faded from her face.
"Yeh'll do what yer told," she growled, "or I'll be takin' a leaf outta Professor Grumpy's book ... I heard yeh make a good ferret, Malty."
We Lion-Hearts all roared with laughter at this. Malty flushed with anger, but apparently the memory of Grumpy's punishment was still sufficiently painful to stop her retorting. I saw Rae-Bradley frown at this, but I swore I could have seen a twinkle of amusement in her eyes, but only for a fleeting moment, before I turned back to the Crabs. At the end of the lesson, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I returned to the castle at the end of the lesson in high spirits; seeing Mina put down Malty was particularly satisfying, especially because Malty had done her very best to get Mina sacked in my third year.
When Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I arrived in the Entrance Hall, we found ourselves unable to proceed, owing to the large crowd of students congregated there, all milling around a large sign which had been erected at the foot of the marble staircase. Sian, the tallest of the four of us, stood on her tiptoes to see over the heads in front of us and read the sign aloud to Chris, Chrissie and I.
TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT
The delegations from Beauxbatons and Uagadou will be arriving at 6 o'clock on Tuesday 30th October. Lessons will end half an hour early -
"That's during Muggle Studies, that is," Chris told us.
Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.
"Only a week away," said Emily Mac of Badger-Stripes, emerging from the crowd, her eyes gleaming. "I wonder if Georgia knows? I think I'll go tell her ..."
"Georgia?" said Chris blankly, as Emily hurried off.
"That idiot, Dragon Mort Champion?" said Chrissie, as we pushed our way through the chattering crowd towards the staircase.
"She's not an idiot, you just don't like her because she beat Lion-Heart at Quidditch," said Chris. "From what I've heard, she's a really good student - and she's a Prefect."
He spoke as though this settled the matter.
"Oh, please. You only like her because she's beautiful," said Chrissie scathingly.
"Excuse me, I do not like her just because she's beautiful!" said Chris indignantly.
Sian chose this moment to speak, for she gave a loud, false cough that sounded oddly like, "Gold!"
The appearance of the sign in the Entrance Hall had a marked effect upon the inhabitants of the castle. During the following week, there seemed to be only one topic of conversation, no matter where I went: the Triwizard Tournament. Rumours were flying from student to student like highly contagious germs: who was going to try for Dragon Mort Champion, what the Tournament would involve, how the students from Beauxbatons and Uagadou differed from us.
I noticed, too, that the castle seemed to be undergoing an extra-thorough cleaning. Several grimy portraits had been scrubbed, much to the displeasure of their occupants, who sat huddled in their frames, muttering darkly and wincing as they felt their now pink faces. The suits of armour were suddenly gleaming and moving without squeaking, and Douglas Match, the caretaker, was behaving so ferociously to any student who forgot to wipe their shoes that he terrified a pair of first-year girls into hysterics.
Other members of staff seemed oddly tense, too.
"Bore, kindly do not reveal that you cannot perform a simple Switching Spell in front of anyone from Uagadou!" Professor Darbus barked at the end of one particularly difficult lesson, during which Nikita had accidentally transplanted her own ears onto a cactus.
When we went down to breakfast on the morning of the thirtieth of October, we found that the Great Hall had been decorated overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Dragon Mort house - red with a golden lion for Lion-Heart, blue with a bronze raven for Raven-Wings, yellow with a black-and-white badger for Badger-Stripes, and green with a silver serpent for Snake-Eyes. Behind the teachers' table, the largest banner of all bore the Dragon Mort coat of arms: lion, raven, badger and snake united around two large letters: DM, and beside the D and beside the M were two large, yellow, dragon's eyes.
Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I spotted Tanya and Geri at the Lion-Heart table. Once again, and most unusually, they were sitting apart from everyone else and were conversing in low voices. Chrissie led the way over to them.
"It's a bummer, all right," Geri was saying gloomily to Tanya. "But if she wasn't going to be talking to us in person, then we'll have to send her the letter after all. Either that, or we'll stuff it into her hand. She can't avoid us for ever."
"Who's avoiding you?" said Chris, sitting down next to them.
"Wish you and Chrissie would," said Tanya, looking irritated at the interruption.
"But we wanna know," said Chrissie, in an annoyingly whining voice, that Sian rolled her eyes and shook her head at. "So, what's a bummer?" Chrissie then asked Geri.
"Having a nosy little mouse like you for a cousin," said Geri.
"You two got any ideas on the Triwizard Tournament yet?" I asked. "Thought any more about trying to enter?"
"I asked Darbus how the Champions are chosen but she wasn't telling," said Geri bitterly. "She just told me to shut up and get on with Transfiguring my racoon."
"Wonder what the tasks are going to be?" said Chrissie thoughtfully. "You know, I bet we could do them, Kiara, we've done dangerous stuff before ..."
"Not in front of a panel of judges, you haven't," said Tanya. "Darbus says the Champions get awarded points according to how well they've done the tasks."
"Who are the judges?" I asked.
"Well, the Heads of the participating schools are on the panel," said Sian, and Chris, Chrissie, Tanya, Geri and I looked around at her, rather surprised, "because all three of them were injured during the Tournament of 1792, when a cockatrice the Champions were supposed to be catching went on the rampage."
She then noticed the five of us looking at her and said, with her usual air of impatience that nobody had else had read all the books she had, "It's all in The Most Memorable and Magical Events of The Eighteenth Century, or A History of The Most Influential and Magical Events, from 1066 - 1792."
"Well, at least they faced a cockatrice rather than a herd of house-elves," said Chrissie jokingly, but Sian did not find this funny at all, for she turned slowly to her sister, here eyes burning with a raging fire and practically yelled at her -
"Don't you dare bring house-elves into this, Chrissie! They get a rough ordeal as it is, without you making insulting jokes about their species! They're living beings, Chrissie, just like you and me, so have a little respect for them, why don't you?"
Chris, Chrissie, Tanya and Geri looked shocked at Sian as they backed away from her slightly, for her teeth were bared and her breathing was heavy. I was also unnerved by her words, but I decided it was best for me to stay focused on my scrambled eggs. Chris, Chrissie and my own lack of enthusiasm had done nothing to stop Sian's determination to pursue justice to help mistreated house-elves. True, the three of us had paid two Sickles for a H.A.M.E. badge, but we had only done it to keep her quiet. Our Sickles were wasted, however, for if anything it seemed to have made Sian more vociferous. She had been badgering Chris, Chrissie and I ever since, firstly to wear the badges, then to persuade others to do the same, and she had also taken to rattling the tin around the Lion-Heart common room every evening, cornering people and shaking the collecting tin under their noses.
"You do realise that there are house-elves out there who, even though they have a roof over their heads, may be living in worse circumstances that you can't even think of. Not to mention that they also change your sheets, light your fires, clean our classrooms and eat the food that we eat that is made by a group of magical creatures who are mostly unpaid and enslaved?" She kept saying fiercely.
Some people, like Nikita, had paid up just to stop Sian glowering at them. A few seemed mildly interested in what she had to say, but were reluctant to take a more active role in campaigning. Many regarded the whole thing as a joke (and I think we can all imagine how Sian took that, can't we?).
Once Sian had calmed down enough, Chris and Chrissie rolled their eyes at the ceiling, which flooded us all in autumn sunlight, and Tanya became extremely interested in her bacon (both twins had refused to buy a H.A.M.E. badge). Geri, however, leant towards Sian.
"Listen, have you ever been down to the kitchens, Sian?"
"No, of course not," said Sian curtly. "I hardly think students are supposed to - "
"Well, we have," said Geri, indicating Tanya, "loads of times, to nick food. And we met them, and they're happy. They think they've got the best job in the world - "
"That's because they're uneducated and brainwashed!" said Sian hotly, but her next few words were drowned by the sudden whooshing noise from overhead which announced the arrival of the post owls. I looked up at once and saw Harold soaring towards me. Sian stopped talking abruptly; she, Chris and Chrissie watched Harold anxiously, as he fluttered down onto my shoulder, folded his wings and held out his leg, hooting wearily.
I pulled off my parents' letter and offered Harold my bacon rinds, which he ate gratefully. Then, checking that Tanya and Geri were safely immersed in further discussion about the Triwizard Tournament, I read out my parents' letter in a whisper to Chris, Sian and Chrissie.
Nice try, Kiara.
Your father and I are back in the country and are well hidden. We want you to keep us posted on everything that's going on at Dragon Mort. Don't use Harold, keep changing owls, and don't worry about us, just watch out for yourself. Don't forget what your father said about your scar.
Your father sends his love.
Love you always,
Mum
"Why d'you have to keep changing owls?" Chrissie asked in a low voice.
"Harold will attract too much attention," said Sian at once. "He stands out. A snowy owl that keeps returning to wherever they're hiding ... I mean ... they're not native birds, are they?"
I rolled up the letter and slipped it inside my robes, whilst I wondered whether I felt more or less worried than before. I supposed that my parents managing to get back without being caught was something. I couldn't deny, either, that the idea that my parents were much nearer to me was reassuring; at least I wouldn't have to wait so long for a response every time I wrote to them.
"Thanks, Harold," I said, stroking him. He nodded sleepily, dipped his neck briefly into my goblet of orange juice, then took off again, clearly desperate for a good long sleep in the Owlery.
There was a pleasant feeling of anticipation in the air that day. None of us were very attentive in lessons, being much more interested in the arrival that evening of the people from Beauxbatons and Uagadou: Muggle Studies was as interesting as ever, but we were far too excited to concentrate. When the bell rang early, Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I hurried up to Lion-Heart Tower, deposited our bags and books as we had been instructed , pulled on our cloaks and rushed back downstairs into the Entrance Hall.
The Heads of Houses were organizing their students into lines.
"Miss Dawson, fix your cloak," Professor Darbus snapped at Chrissie. "Party, straighten your hat."
Perry huffed and fixed his hat on straight.
"Follow me, please," said Professor Darbus, "first-years to the front, no pushing ..."
We filed down the front steps and lined up in front of the castle. It was a cold, clear evening; dusk was falling and a pale, transparent-looking moon was already shining over the Black Forest. I was stood between Sian and Chrissie in the fourth row from the front, and saw Denise McCreevy positively shivering with anticipation among the other first-years.
"Nearly six," said Chrissie, checking her watch and then staring down the drive which led to the front gates. "How d'you reckon they're coming? The subs?"
"I doubt it," said Sian.
"How, then? Broomsticks?" I suggested, looking up at the starry sky.
"I don't think so ... not from that far away ..."
"A Portkey?" Chris suggested. "Or the could Apparate - maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"
"You can't Apparate inside the Dragon Mort grounds, how many times do I have to tell you this?" said Sian impatiently.
We scanned the darkening grounds expectantly, but nothing was moving; everything was still silent and quiet as usual. I was starting to feel cold. I so wished that they would hurry up ... maybe the foreign students were preparing a dramatic entrance ... I remembered what Mr Dawson had said back on the campsite before the Quidditch Friendly - "Always the same, we can't resist showing off when we get together ..."
And then Crighton called out from the back row, where she stood with the other teachers - "Aha! Unless I am very much mistaken, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"
"Where?" said many students eagerly, all looking in different directions.
"There!" yelled a sixth-year, pointing over the Forest.
Something large much larger than a broomstick - or, indeed, a hundred broomsticks - was hurtling across the deep blue sky towards the castle, growing larger all the time.
"It's a dragon!" shrieked one of the first-years, losing his head completely.
"Don't be stupid ... it's a flying horse!" said Denise McCreevy.
Denise's guess was closer ... as the gigantic black shape skimmed over the treetops of the Black Forest, and the lights shining from the castle windows hit it, we saw a gigantic, powder-blue, horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house, soaring towards us, pulled through the air by a dozen winged horses, all palominos, and each the size of an elephant.
The front three rows of students drew backwards as the carriage hurtled ever lower, coming in to land at a tremendous speed - then, with an almighty crash that made Nikita jump backwards onto a Snake-eyes fifth-year's foot - the horses' hooves, larger than dinner plates, hit the ground. A second later, the carriage landed too, bouncing upon its vast wheels, while the golden horses tossed their enormous heads and rolled large, fiery red eyes.
I had just time to see that the door of the carriage bore a coat of arms (two crossed, golden wands, each emitting three stars) before it opened.
A boy in pale blue robes jumped down from the carriage, bent forwards, fumbled for a moment with something on the carriage floor and unfolded a set of golden steps. He sprang back respectfully. Then I saw a shining, black-footed shoe emerge from the inside of the carriage - a shoe the size of a child's sled - followed, almost immediately, by the largest man I had ever seen in my life, before or since. The size of the carriage, and of the horses, was immediately explained. A few people gasped.
I had only ever seen one person as large as this man before I saw him, and that was Mina; I doubted whether there was an inch difference in their heights. Yet somehow - maybe because I was used to Mina - this man (now at the foot of the steps, and looking around at us waiting, wide-eyed students) seemed even more unusually large. As he stepped into the light flooding from the Entrance Hall, he was revealed to have a handsome, olive-skinned face, large, black, liquid-looking eyes and a rather long nose. His hair reached to just above his shoulders. He was dressed from head to foot in rich, black robes, and there were a few opal rings on his thick fingers.
Crighton started to clap; myself and my fellow students followed her lead and broke into applause, too, many of them were standing on tiptoe, the better to look at this man.
His face relaxed into a gracious smile, and he walked forwards towards Crighton, extending a glittering hand. Crighton, tall as she was, had barely to bend to grab it, as the man bent down to kiss it.
"My dear Monsieur Legrand," she said. "Welcome to Dragon Mort."
"Crighton," said Monsieur Legrand, in a deep voice. "I 'ope I find you and you children well?"
"I am on excellent form, and my children are bearing very well, thank you," said Crighton.
"My pupils," said Monsieur Legrand, waving one of his enormous hands carelessly behind him.
My attention had been focused completely upon Monsieur Legrand, but I then noticed that around a dozen boys and girls all, by the looks of them, in their late teens - had emerged from the carriage and were stood behind Monsieur Legrand. They were shivering, which was unsurprising, given that their robes seemed to be made of fine silk, and none of them were wearing any cloaks. A few of them had wrapped shawls and scarves around their heads. From what I saw of their faces (which wasn't much, seeing as they were standing in Monsieur Legrand's shadow), they were staring up at Dragon Mort with apprehensive looks on their faces.
"'As Kula arrived yet?" Monsieur Legrand asked.
"She should be here any moment," said Crighton. "Would you like to wait here and greet her or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"
"Warm up, I think," said Monsieur Legrand. "But ze 'orses - "
"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," said Crighton, "the moment she has returned from dealing with a slight situation which has arisen with some of her - er - other charges."
"Crabs," Chrissie muttered to me, grinning.
"My steeds require - er - forceful 'andling," said Monsieur Legrand, looking as though he doubted whether any Care of Magical Creatures teacher at Dragon Mort could be up to the job. "Zey are very strong ..."
"I assure you that Mina will be well up to the job," said Crighton, smiling.
"Very well," said Monsieur Legrand, bowing slightly, "will you please inform zis Meena zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whisky?"
"It will be attended to," said Crighton, curtseying.
"Come," said Monsieur Legrand imperiously to his students, and we Dragon Mort students parted to allow him and his students to pass up the stone steps.
"How big d'you reckon the Uagadou horses are going to be?" Zara Finn said, peering around Larry and Perry to address Chris, Chrissie and I.
"Well, if they're any bigger than this lot, even Mina won't be able to handle them," I said. "That is if she hasn't been attacked by her Crabs. Wonder what's up with them?"
"Maybe they've escaped?" said Chris hopefully.
I heard Chrissie mutter under her breath a few times, "I hope they have ... I hope they have ... I hope they have ... I hope they have ..."
"Oh, don't say that," said Sian, with a shudder. "Imagine that lot loose on the grounds ..."
We stood, shivering slightly, waiting for the Uagadou party to arrive. Most people were gazing hopefully up at the sky. For a few minutes, the silence was broken only by Monsieur Legrand's huge horses snorting and stomping. Then -
"Can you hear something?" said Chris suddenly.
I listened; a loud and oddly eerie noise was drifting towards us from out of the darkness; a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner was moving along a river bed ...
"The river!" yelled Leah Jones, pointing down at it. "Look at the river!"
From our position at the tops of the lawns overlooking the grounds, we had a clear view of the smooth black surface of the water - except that the surface was suddenly not smooth at all. Some disturbance was taking place deep in the centre; great bubbles were forming on the surface, waves were washing over the muddy banks - and then, out in the very middle of the river, a whirlpool appeared, as if a giant plug had just been pulled out of the river's floor ...
What seemed to be a long, curled, silver pole began to rise out of the heart of the whirlpool ... and then I saw it rise up, tall and straight, with a bit of glass stuck in the curled bit of the pipe ...
"It's a periscope!" I said to Chris, Sian and Chrissie.
Slowly, magnificently, the submarine emerged from the water. The submarine was longer and thinner than the submarines that Dragon Mort and was completely silver. From the light shining on the submarine from the Entrance Hall, it made the submarine look spirited in some strange way, and made the portholes look like ghostly eyes. Finally, with a great sloshing noise, the submarine emerged entirely, bobbing on the turbulent water, and began to glide towards the bank. A few moments later, we heard the engine stop, and the creaking of a door being opened.
People were disembarking; we saw their silhouettes passing the lights in the submarine's portholes, like ghosts on a ghost ship. Most of them, I noticed, seemed to be built along the lines of Crate and Gabber ... but then, as they drew nearer, I saw that their bulk was really due to the fact that they were wearing cloaks of some kind of shaggy, matted fur. But the woman who was leading them up to the castle was wearing furs of a different sort; sleek and silver, like her hair.
"Crighton!" she called heartily, as she walked up the slope. "How are you, my dear friend, how are you?"
"Blooming, thank you, Professor Kula, as are my children," Crighton replied.
"Indeed they are," said Kula, glancing around quickly but not really looking at Crighton's children.
She had a fruity, unctuous voice; when she stepped into the light pouring from the front doors of the castle, we saw that she was tall and thin, like Crighton, but her white hair was short and curled slightly at the end, and I also noticed that she had a rather weak chin. When she reached Crighton she shook hands with both her own.
"Dear old Dragon Mort," she said, looking up at the castle and smiling; her teeth were rather yellow, and I noticed that her smile did not extend to her eyes, which remained cold and shrewd. "How good it is to be here, how good ... Kovu, come along into the warm ... you don't mind, Crighton? Kovu has a slight head cold ..."
Kula beckoned forwards one of her students. As the boy passed, I caught a glimpse of a prominent, large nose and thick, black eyebrows. I didn't need the punch of arm Chrissie gave me, or the hiss that both she and Chris gave me in my ear, to recognise the profile.
"Oh my God!" Chrissie whispered.
"Kiara - it's Outsider!" Chris gasped.
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A.N.: I don't know when I'll next be able to update, but hopefully it'll be before next week, because hopefully I'll be moving out. More to come, and you'll get to see what the Dawson girls have got planned.
