Chapter 31
Leo and Leona Return
KIARA
One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the river, which meant that for once Chrissie was getting to share my limelight. I noticed that Chrissie's version of events changed slightly with every retelling. At first, she gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied (from what Sian told us) with Kopa' story, anyway - Crighton had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor Darbus' office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake once they were released from the locker they were in, or else if their rescuer didn't turn up, they would be released anyway. It only took a week for Chrissie to change the story completely, which was a thrilling tale of kidnap, in which she struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had beaten her into submission before handing her over to the Paleman.
"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," she assured Ben, who made a point of talking to her every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken that Paleman and those mer-idiots any time I wanted."
"What were you planning to do, snore them to death?" said Sian waspishly. People had been teasing Kopa so much about being the thing that Kovu Outsider would miss the most. Even though Kopa didn't seem to mind it, Sian was in a rather tetchy mood about it, despite all the times that she had stood up for him.
Anyhoo, Chrissie's ears went red, and she reverted thereafter to the bewitched-sleep version of events.
As we entered March, the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned our hands and faces every time we went out into the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being thrown off course. The brown owl that I had sent to my parents with the dates of the Dragsmede weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; I had no sooner torn off the reply from my parents than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again.
My parents letter was almost as short as the previous one.
Be at stile at the end of road out of Dragsmede (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can for your mother and I.
"They haven't come back to Dragsmede?" said Chris incredulously.
"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Sian.
"I can't believe them," I said tensely. "If they're caught ..."
"Made it so far, though, haven't they?" said Chrissie. "And it's not like the place is swarming with Stingers anymore."
I folded up the letter, thinking. I'm going to be honest with you, my dear readers, as I was honest with myself: I was really looking forward to seeing my parents again. I therefore appreciated the final lesson of that Friday afternoon - which, if you must know, was double Potions - feeling considerably more cheerful than I usually did when descending the steps to the dungeons.
Malty, Crate and Gabber were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Parry Parker's group of Snake-Eyes boys, with Rea-Bradley pushed to one side. She was the only one who wasn't looking at something that I couldn't see, and she wasn't sniggering heartily. Parry's pug-like face peered excitedly around Gabber's broad back as Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I approached.
"There they are, there they are!" he laughed, and the knot of Snake-Eyes broke apart. I saw that Parry had a magazine in his hands - Wizard Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired wizard who was smiling toothily and was pointing at the latest broomstick model at the current time.
"You might find something to interest you in there, Rickers!" Parry said loudly, and he threw the magazine at Chris, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened and Triphorm beckoned us all inside.
Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Triphorm had turned her back on us to write up the ingredients of the day's potion on the blackboard, Chris hastily riffled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the centre pages, Chris found what we were looking for. Sian, Chrissie and I leant in closer. A colour photograph of me headed a small piece entitled KIARA PRIDE-LANDER'S TWO POTENTIAL SUITORS.
A girl like no other, perhaps - yet a girl suffering with all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Peter Meter. Knowing love in the form of her grandmothers since the tragic separation from her parents, fourteen-year-old Kiara Pride-Lander thought she had found extra solace in her steady boyfriend at Dragon Mort, half-blood Christopher Rickers. Little did she know that her feelings would be fought after by another - and far superior - young man.
Mr Rickers, a pretty-faced yet ambitious boy, seems to be fighting for Kiara's affections against a certain Kopa, who is the adoptive brother of Kovu Outsider, South African Seeker and hero of the last Quidditch Friendly. Outsider's brother was seen talking to Pride-Lander after the second task. But it seems that Outsider's brother is interested in Mr Rickers' adopted sister, Miss Sian Dawson. Kopa has said that he has "never felt this way about a girl before", and told Outsider that he was going to invite her to South Africa to visit his family during the summer.
However, it might not be Mr Rickers' doubtful natural charms which have captured Miss Pride-Lander's interest.
"He's really ugly," said Parry Parker, a handsome and vivacious fourth-year student, "but he'd be well up to making a Love Potion by asking the help of the Eldest Dawson Girl, his eldest sister, who's quite brainy. I think that's how he's doing it."
Love Potions are of course banned at Dragon Mort, and no doubt Susan Crighton will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Kiara Pride-Lander's well-wishers must hope that, next time, she bestows her heart upon a worthier candidate.
"I told you" Chrissie hissed at Chris, as he stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Peter Meter! He's made you out to be some sort of - of scarlet man!"
Chris stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter.
"Scarlet man?" he repeated, shaking with suppressed chuckles as he looked round at Chrissie.
"I don't know, I was trying to think of the opposite of a scarlet woman, and that's the best my brain could come up with," Chrissie shrugged.
"If that's the best Peter can do, he's losing his touch," said Chris, still chortling, as he threw Wizard Weekly on to the floor beside him. "What a pile of old rubbish."
He looked over at the Snake-Eyes, who were all watching Chris and I closely across the room to see if we had been upset by the article. Chris gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and he, Sian, Chrissie and I started unpacking the ingredients we would need for our Wit-Sharpening Potion.
"There's something funny, though," said Sian ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Peter Meter have known ..."
"Known what?" said Chrissie quickly. "You and Chris haven't been mixing up Love Potions together, have you?"
"Oh, don't be so stupid, Christina," Sian snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just ... how did he know Kopa asked me to visit him over the summer?"
Sian blushed scarlet after she said this, and determinedly avoided Chris' eyes.
"What?" said Chris, as he dropped his pestle with a loud clunk.
"But, wait a minute ..." said Chrissie, looking confused. "The article said he talked to Outsider about it - "
"Which he did," Sian muttered, "after he left the castle for the Uagadou Sub once he had left the hospital wing, but almost as soon as he got out of the river, he asked me if I would like to spend the summer with him and his family - "
"And what did you say?" said Chris, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches away from his bowl, because he was looking at Sian.
"And he did say he'd never felt that way before about anyone," Sian went on, and instead of blushing deeply, she smiled a sweet, genuine smile of joy, before she shook her head and continued, "but how could Peter Meter have heard him? He wasn't there ... or was he? Maybe he has got an Invisibility Cloak, maybe he sneaked into the grounds to watch the second task ..."
"And what did you say?" Chris repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.
"Well, I said that I was going to have to check with my parents to see if it would be OK for me to - "
"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Dawson," said an icy voice from right behind us, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Lion-Heart."
Triphorm had glided over to our desk while we had been talking. The rest of the class were looking at us; Malty took the opportunity to flash PRIDE-LANDER STINKS across the dungeon at me.
"Ah ... reading magazines under the table as well?" Triphorm added, snatching up the copy of Wizard Weekly. "A further ten points from Lion-Heart ... oh, but of course ..." Triphorm's icy-blue eyes glittered as they fell on Peter Meter's article. "Pride-Lander has to keep up with her press cuttings ..."
The dungeon rang with the Snake-Eyes' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Triphorm's thin mouth. To my fury, she began to read the article aloud.
"Kiara Pride-Lander's two Potential Suitors ... well, Pride-Lander, it seems that the Eldest Dawson Girl isn't the only one who's got young love on her mind, is she? A girl like no other, perhaps ..."
I could feel my face burning. Triphorm was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Snake-Eyes to give off a few hearty laughs. That article sounded ten times worse when read by Triphorm.
" ... Kiara Pride-Lander's well-wishers might hope that, next time, she bestows her heart upon a worthier candidate. How very touching," Triphorm sneered, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Snake-Eyes. "Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than your tangled love lives. Eldest Dawson Girl, next to Rea-Bradley. Miss Dawson, you stay there. Mr Rickers, over there, next to Mr Parker. Pride-Lander - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."
I furiously threw my ingredients and my bag into my cauldron, and dragged it up to the front of the dungeon to the empty table. Triphorm followed, sat down at her desk and watched me unload my cauldron. Determined not to look at Triphorm, I resumed the mashing of my scarab beetles, imagining each one to have Triphorm's face.
"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already overlarge head, Pride-Lander," said Triphorm quietly, once the rest of the class had settled down again.
I didn't answer. I knew Triphorm was trying to provoke me; she had done it before. No doubt she was hoping for an excuse to take a round of fifty points from Lion-Heart before the end of the class.
"You might be labouring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with you," Triphorm went on, so quietly that no one else could hear her (I continued to pound my scarab beetles, even though I had already reduced them to a very fine powder), "but I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, Pride-Lander, you are nothing but a nasty little girl who considers rules to be beneath her."
I tipped the powdered beetles into my cauldron and started cutting up my ginger roots. My hands were shaking slightly out of anger, but I kept my eyes down, as though I couldn't hear what Triphorm was saying to me.
"So I give you fair warning, Pride-Lander," Triphorm continued, in a softer and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrity or not - if I catch you breaking into my office one more time - "
"I haven't been anywhere near your office!" I said angrily, forgetting my feigned deafness.
"Don't lie to me," Triphorm hissed, her fathomless icy-blue eyes boring into mine. "Boomslang sking. Lacewing flies. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."
I stared back at Triphorm, determined not to blink, or to look guilty. In truth, I hadn't stolen either of those things from Triphorm. Sian and Chris had taken the Boomslang skin and the Lacewing flies back in our second year - we had needed it for the Polyjuice Potion - and while Triphorm had suspected me at the time, she had not been able to prove it.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I lied coldly.
"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Triphorm hissed. "I know it, Pride-Lander! Now, Crazy-Head Grumpy might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behaviour! One more night-time stroll into my office, Pride-Lander, and you will pay!"
"Right," I said coolly, turning back to my ginger roots, "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."
Triphorm's eyes flashed. She plunged a hand inside of her red robes. For one wild moment, I thought Triphorm was going to pull out her wand and curse me - then I saw that Triphorm had drawn out a small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion. I just stared at it.
"Do you know what this is, Pride-Lander?" Triphorm said, her eyes glittering dangerously again.
"No," I said, completely honest that time.
"It's Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your most innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Triphorm viciously. "Now, the use of this Potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you watch your step, you might just find that my hand slips - " she shook the bottle slightly, " - right over your evening pumpkin juice. And then, Pride-Lander ... then we'll find out whether you've been in my office or not."
I said nothing. I turned to my ginger roots once more, picked up my knife and started slicing them again. I didn't like the sound of that Truth Potion at all, and nor did I put it past Triphorm to slip me some. I repressed a shudder at the thought of what might have come out of my mouth if Triphorm had done it ... quite apart from landing a whole lot of people in trouble - Chris and Sian for a start - there were all the other things I was concealing at the time ... like the fact that I was in contact with my parents ... and what I knew about Bernard Jenkins ... and - oh, how my insides squirmed uncomfortably at the thought - how I then felt about Khan ... I tipped my ginger roots into the cauldron too, and wondered whether I ought to have taken a leaf out of Grumpy's book and start drinking from a private hip-flask.
There was a knock on the dungeon door.
"Enter," said Triphorm in her usual voice.
We all looked around as the door opened. Professor Kula came in. Everyone, myself included, watched her as she walked up towards Triphorm's desk. she was twisting her finger around one of her curls again, and was looking agaitated.
"We need to talk," said Kula abruptly, when she had reached Triphorm. She seemed so determined that nobody should hear what she was saying that she was barely opening her lips; it was as though she was a rather poor ventriloquist. I kept my eyes on my ginger roots, listening hard.
"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Kula - " Triphorm muttered, but Kula interrupted her.
"I want to talk to you now, while you can't slip off, Tiana. You're avoiding me."
"After the lesson," Triphorm snapped.
Under the prospect of holding up a measuring cup to see if I'd poured out enough armadillo bile, I sneaked a sidelong glance at the pair of them. Kula looked extremely worried, and Triphorm looked angry.
Kula hovered behind Triphorm's desk for the rest of the double period. She seemed intent on preventing Triphorm slipping away at the end of class. Keen to hear what Kula wanted to say, I deliberately knocked over my bottle of armadillo bile with two minutes to go to the bell, which gave me an excuse to duck down behind my cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily towards the door.
"What's so urgent?" I heard Triphorm hiss at Kula.
"This," said Kula, and as I peered around the edge of my cauldron, I saw Kula pull up the left-hand sleeve of her robe, and show Triphorm something on her inner forearm.
"Well?" said Kula, still making every effort not to move her lips. "Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since - "
"Put it away!" hissed Triphorm, her icy-blue eyes sweeping the classroom.
"But you must have noticed - " Kula began in an agitated voice.
"We can talk later!" spat Triphorm. "Pride-Lander! What are you doing?"
"Clearing up my armadillo bile, Professor," I said innocently, straightening up and showing Triphorm the sodden rag I was holding.
Kula turned on her heel and strode out of the dungeon. She looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an extremely angry Triphorm, I threw my books and ingredients into my bag, and left at top speed to tell Chris, Sian and Chrissie what I had witnessed.
0000
We left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been since the start of 2008, and by the time we reached Dragsmede, the four of us had taken off our cloaks and threw them over our shoulders. The food my parents told us to bring was in my bag; we had sneaked two dozen chicken legs, two loaves of bread and two flagons of pumpkin juice from the lunch table (and if any of you want to know, Sian told Kopa that she couldn't go with him into Dragsmede, and when he asked her why, she told him that she, Chris, and Chrissie were meeting a few family members in Dragsmede who were having some trouble, and needed their help - and it was a private affair. Sian then told Chris, Chrissie and I that she didn't think Kopa believed her, but he didn't push her for any information after that, and that was all she said).
We went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy a present for Dokey, where we had fun selecting all the most lurid socks we could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars, and another that screamed loudly when they became too smelly. Then, at half past one, we made our way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out towards the edge of the village.
I had never been in that direction before then. The winding lane was leading us out into the wild countryside around Dragsmede. The cottages were fewer there, and their gardens larger; we were walking towards the front of the mountain in whose shadow Dragsmede lay. Then we turned a corner, and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for us, their paws on the topmost bars, were two large, shaggy black dogs, with one slightly taller than the other, and one was carrying some newspapers in its mouth, and they both looked very familiar ...
"Hi, Daddy. Hi, Mum," I said, when we had reached them.
The black dog without the newspapers in its mouth sniffed my bag eagerly, wagged its tail and then licked my hand. The other one nuzzled its head into my side. Then the dogs both turned, and began to trot away from us across the scrubby patch of ground which rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I then climbed over the stile and followed them.
My parents led us to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered in boulders and rocks. It was easy for them, for they had four paws each, but Chris, Sian Chrissie and I were soon out of breath. We followed my parents higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour we climbed a steep, winding and stony path, following my parents' wagging tails, sweating in the sun, the shoulder straps of my bag cutting into my shoulders.
Then, at last, my parents slipped out of sight, and when we reached the place where they had vanished, we saw a narrow fissure in the rock. We squeezed into it and found ourselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of her rope around a large rock, was Noelani the Hippogriff. Half grey horse, half giant eagle, Noelani's fierce orange eye flashed at the sight of us. The four of us bowed low to her, and after regarding us imperiously for a moment, Noelani bent her scaly front knees, and allowed Sian to rush forwards and stroke her feathery neck. I, however, was looking at the black dogs, who had turned into my parents.
My parents were wearing ragged grey robes; the same ones they had been wearing when they had left Azkaban. Their hair (my father's tawny, my mother's pale gold) was longer than it had been when they had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. They looked very thin, but that didn't stop them both from greeting me warmly and holding me tightly for a few moments, before we let go.
I stood there, grinning at my parents for a few moments, before I pulled out the bundles of chicken legs and bread out of my bag, handed them to my parents and said, "Here. We managed to sneak these out of the Great Hall for you."
My mother took the bundle of chicken and handed it to my father, who snatched it, ripped it open and tucked into a chicken leg greedily. My mother shot him a disdainful look, before she turned to me and said, "Thank you, my darling," before she kissed me lightly on the cheek.
"It's just food, Mum," I said, shrugging.
"I know that, Kiara," said Mum gently, as she sat on the floor next to my father and took out a chicken leg. "But when you've been feasting on nothing but rats for a few months, you start to get desperate for something more tasteful."
"Your mother's right, Kiara," my father said, as he finished his first chicken leg and threw the bone to Noelani. He then stood up and walked over to me. I embraced him eagerly, despite how he smelt, and I was relieved when he hugged me back. Out of the two of them, it was my father who I missed the most. "It's good to see you again, Kiara," he said, kissing the top of my head.
"It's good to see you too, Daddy. Both of you," I added, looking at Mum, who smiled as she ate the chicken leg she was holding.
I then said, "What are you two doing here, anyway?"
"Fulfilling our duty as your parents, that's what," Daddy said. "Don't worry about us, though. Your mother and I are pretending to be a couple of lovable strays. Besides," my father added, noticing the stress on my face, "we're your parents. We're the ones who are supposed to worry about you, not the other way around."
My mother gave a slight chuckle at this, and said, "Listen to your father, Kiara. You know he's right." My parents grinned and chuckled at this, but seeing the anxiety on my face, Mum said more seriously, "All right, your father and I want to be on the spot. Your last letter ... well, let's just say things are getting fishier. Your father and I have been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, we're not the only ones who are getting worried."
She nodded at the yellowing Daily Squabblers on the cave floor, and Chris and Chrissie picked them up and unfolded them. I, however, continued to stare at my parents. "What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"
My mother stood up, walked over to me and touched my cheek, as my father took her place on the floor, and said, "Look, you four and Crighton are the only ones who know that your father and I aren't just Animagis', but are also Animal Spirits." She then shrugged as she took another chicken leg from my father.
Chrissie nudged me, and passed me the Daily Squabbler. There were two; the first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Beatrice Clutch, the second, Ministry Wizard Still Missing - Minister for Magic Now Personally Involved.
I looked down at the story about Clutch. Phrases jumped out at me: hasn't been in public since November ... house appears deserted ... St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies decline comment ... Ministry refuses to confirm rumours of critical illness ...
"They're making it sound like she's dying," I said slowly. "But she can't be that ill if she managed to get up here ..."
"Our cousin's Clutch's personal assistant," Chrissie informed my parents. "From what I've heard from her, Clutch is suffering from overwork."
"Mind you, she did look ill the last time I saw her up close," I said slowly, still reading the story. "The night my name came out of the Goblet ..."
"Getting her comeuppance for sacking Blinky, isn't she?" said Sian coldly. She was stroking Noelani, who was crunching up my parents' chicken bones. "I bet she wishes she hadn't done it now - bet she feels the difference now he's not there to look after her."
"Sian's obsessed with house-elves," Chris muttered to my parents, casting Sian a dark look.
My parents, however, both looked interested at this news. "Clutch sacked her house-elf?" my father asked, as he and my mother shared a look of surprise.
"Yeah, at the Quidditch Friendly," I said, and I launched into the story of the Death Trail's appearance, and Blinky being found with my wand clutched in his hand, and Mrs Clutch's fury.
When I had finished, my father was on his feet, and he started pacing up and down the cave. "Let me get this straight," my father said after a while, brandishing two fresh chicken legs and handing one of them to my mother. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. He was saving Clutch a seat, right?"
"Right," Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I said together.
"But Clutch didn't turn up for the match?"
"No," I said. "I think she said she had been too busy."
My father paced in silence again. Then he said, "Kiara, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"
"Erm ..." I thought hard. "No," I said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." I stared at my parents. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Trail stole my wand in the Top Box?"
"It's possible," said Mum, after a few moments.
"Blinky didn't steal that wand!" said Sian shrilly.
"The e - sorry - Blinky," my father said pointedly, as Sian gave him a hard look, "wasn't the only one in that box ... who else was sitting behind you?"
"Loads of people," I said. "Some South African Minsters ... Cornelia Sweets ... the Maltys ..."
"The Maltys!" said Chris suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Noelani tossed her head nervously. "I bet it was Nerissa Malty!"
"Anyone else?" said Mum.
"No one," I said.
"Yes, there was. There was Lynn Baxter," Sian reminded me.
"Oh, yeah ..."
"Your mother and I don't know anything about Baxter, except that she used to be Beater for Lancashire," said Daddy, as he kept pacing. "What's she like?"
"She's OK," I said. "She keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."
"Does she, now?" said my father, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why she'd do that?"
"Says she's taken a liking to me," I said.
"Hmm," said Mum, who looked thoughtful.
"We saw her in the Forest just before the Death Trail appeared," Sian told my parents. "Remember?" she said to Chris, Chrissie and I.
"Yeah, but she didn't stay in the forest, did she?" said Chrissie. "The moment we told her about the riot, she went off to the campsite."
"How do you know?" Sian shot back. "How d'you know where she Disapparated to?"
"Come off it," said Chris incredulously, "are you saying that Lynn Baxter conjured the Death Trail?"
"It's more likely she did it than Blinky," said Sian stubbornly.
"Told you," said Chris, looking meaningfully at my parents, "told you Sian's obsessed with house - "
But my father held up a hand to silence Chris. "When the Death Trail had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Kiara's wand, what did Clutch do?"
"Went to look in the bushes," I said, but there wasn't anyone else there."
"Of course," my father said, as he continued to pace, "of course, she'd want to pin it on anyone but her own elf ... and then she sacked him?
"Yes," said Sian in a heated voice, "she sacked him, just because he hadn't stayed in his tent and let himself get trampled - "
"Will you just let it go?" Chrissie said wearily.
"Yes, sister, will you give it a rest with the elf?" said Chris.
But my parents both shook their heads, and my father said, "She's got the measure of Clutch better than you have, Chris, as well as you, Chrissie. If you want to know what a person's like, whether it be a man or woman, take a good look at how they treat their inferiors, not their equals."
He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard. "All these absences of Bea Clutch ... she goes to the trouble of making sure her house-elf saves her a seat at the Quidditch Friendly, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. She works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that, too ... it's not like Clutch. If she's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, then Nala and I will eat Noelani."
"D'you two know Clutch, then?" I said.
My parents' faces darkened then. They suddenly looked as menacing as the night when I had first met them, the night when I still believed that my parents were murderers and different people.
"Oh, your father and I know Clutch all right, Kiara," Mum said quietly. "She was the one who gave the order for us to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."
"What?" Chris, Sian and Chrissie said together.
"You're kidding!" I said.
"No, I'm not," said Mum, tasking another piece of chicken. Clutch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"
Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I shook our heads.
"She was tipped as the next Minister for Magic," Daddy said. "She was a great witch, Bea Clutch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh, never a Zira supporter," he said, reading the look on my face. "No, Bea Clutch was always very outspoken against the Dark side. But then a lot of people who were against the Dark side ... well, you wouldn't understand ... you're too young ..."
"That's what my dad said at the Quidditch Friendly," said Chrissie, with a trace of irritation in her voice. "Try us, why don't you?"
My father then looked at my mother questioningly, wanting her advice. She swallowed the bit of chicken that she was eating, and said, "Well Simba, they're not babies anymore. We have to treat them like the young adults they are." My father smiled gratefully at her, before he turned back to Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I.
She chuckled slightly as a grin flashed across my father's thin face. "All right, I'll try you ..."
My mother sat down, as my father walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Zira's powerful now. You don't know who her supporters are, you don't know who's working for her and who isn't; you know she can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing ... the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere ... panic ... confusion ... that's how it used to be.
"Well, times like that bring out the best in people, and the worst in others. Clutch's principles might've been good in the beginning - Nala and I wouldn't know. She rose quickly through the Ministry, and she started ordering very harsh measures against Zira's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, for instance. Of course, these were the days when Zira and her followers were acting in the shadows, trying not to draw attention to themselves - but the Ministry were starting to hear things - so the Ministry sent some of their best Aurors out in secret, telling them that they were undercover, to try and put a stop to them. Well, you can imagine how that went." My father shook his head sorrowfully before he continued, "Anyway, Nala and I weren't the only ones who were handed straight to the Dementors - who were the guards of Azkaban at the time - without trial. Clutch fought violence with violence, and authorised the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say - as well as Nala, I'm sure - that she became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark side. She had her supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought she was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamouring for her to take over as Minister for Magic (this, of course, was all kept quiet until news of you and Zira started to spread, Kiara). When Zira disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Clutch got the job. But then something rather unfortunate happened ..." My parents smiled grimly. "Clutch's own daughter was caught with a group of Love Destroyers who managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Zira and return her to power."
"Clutch's daughter was caught?" gasped Sian.
"Yep," Daddy said, as he took another chicken leg, and flung himself back onto the ground beside Mum. "Nasty little shock for old Bea, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with her family, shouldn't she? Ought to have left the office early once in a while ... made the effort to know her own daughter."
My parents quickly ate the rest of the chicken, before they pulled out the loaves, and began to wolf down the large pieces of bread.
"Was her daughter a Love Destroyer?" I said.
"No idea," said Mum. "Your father and I were in Azkaban ourselves when she was brought in. This is mostly stuff we've found out since we got out. The girl was definitely caught in the company of people we'd bet our lives were Love Destroyers - but she might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like Blinky."
"Did Clutch try and get her daughter off?" Sian whispered.
My parents both let out laughs that were much more like light growls. "Clutch let her daughter off?" my father said incredulously. "I thought you had the measure of her, Sian? Anything that threatened to tarnish her reputation had to go, she had dedicated her whole life to becoming Minister for Magic. You saw her dismiss a devoted house-elf because he associated her with the Death Trail again - doesn't that tell you what she's like? Clutch's motherly affection stretched just far enough to give her daughter a fair trial and - by all accounts, it wasn't much more of an excuse for Clutch to show how much she hated the girl ... then she sent her straight to Azkaban."
"She gave her own daughter to the Dementors?" I asked quietly.
"That's right," my father said, and he and my mother didn't look remotely amused anymore. "Nala and I saw the Dementors bringing her in, watched them through the bars in our cell door. From what I can remember, she can't have been more than nineteen at the time. They took her into a cell near ours. She was screaming for her father by nightfall. She went quiet after a few days, though ... they all went quiet in the end ... except when they shrieked in their sleep ..."
For a moment, the deadened look in my parents' eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.
"So, she's still in Azkaban?" I said.
"No," Mum said dully. "No, she's not in there anymore. She died about a year after they brought her in."
"She died?"
"She wasn't the only one," said Daddy bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. The lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the Dementors got excited. Oh, they didn't kill her," he said quickly, catching the questioning look on my face. "No, the Dementors don't have the necessary skills to do that. Anyway, the girl looked pretty sickly when she arrived. Clutch, being an important Ministry member, she and her husband were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time your mother and I saw Bea Clutch, Kiara, half-carrying her husband past our cell. He died himself, apparently, shortly afterwards. Grief. Wasted away just like the girl. Clutch never came for her daughter's body. The Dementors buried her outside the fortress, we watched them do it."
My father threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth, and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.
"So, old Clutch lost it all, just when she thought she had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister for Magic ... next, her daughter and husband both dead, the family name dishonoured, and, so we've heard since we escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the girl had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic towards her, and started asking how a nice young lady from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that her mother never cared much for her. So Cornelia Sweets got the job after Kingsley Shacklebolt's reign ended a few years ago, and about ten years before that, Clutch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Co-operation."
There was a long silence. I was thinking of the way Clutch's eyes had bulged as she'd looked down at her disobedient house-elf back in the woods at the Quidditch Friendly. This, then, must have been why Clutch had overreacted to Blinky being found beneath the Death Trail. It had brought back memories of her daughter, and the old scandal, and her fall from grace at the Ministry.
"Grumpy says Clutch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," I told my parents.
"Yeah, we've heard it's become a bit of a mania with her," Mum said, nodding. "If you ask me, she thinks she can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Love Destroyer."
"And she sneaked up here to search Triphorm's office!" said Chris triumphantly, he and Chrissie looking at Sian.
"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," Daddy said.
"Yeah, it does!" said Chrissie excitedly.
But my father shook his head. "Listen, if Clutch wants to investigate Triphorm, why hasn't she been coming to judge the Tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Dragon Mort and keep an eye on her."
"So, you think Triphorm could be up to something, then?" I asked, but Sian broke in.
"Look, I don't care what you say, Ma trusts Triphorm - "
"Oh, come off it, Sian," said Chrissie impatiently, "I know Ma's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark witch couldn't fool her - "
"Why did Triphorm save Kiara's life in the first year, then? Why didn't she just let her die?"
"I dunno - maybe she thought Ma would kick her out - "
"Hey, Simba, Nala, what d'you guys think?" Chris said loudly, and Sian and Chrissie stopped bickering to listen.
"I think they've both got a point," Mum said before Daddy could say anything, looking thoughtfully at Sian and Chrissie. "Ever since your father and I found out Triphorm was teaching here, Kiara, we've wondered - " my father then interrupted her by coughing slightly. Mum looked at him, and saw that he had an eyebrow raised pointedly, and had a look on his face that clearly said, "We?" Mum then sighed impatiently, and said, "All right, then - I've wondered why Crighton hired her. Triphorm's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, she was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, she was," Mum added, ignoring the disapproving look my father was giving her, as Chris, Chrissie and I grinned at each other. "Triphorm knew more curses when she arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year and she was part of a gang of Snake-Eyes who nearly all turned out to be Love Destroyers."
My father then held up his fingers, and began ticking off names. "Rothenberg and Wilbor - they were both killed by Aurors the year before Zira fell, Katalina Malty ended up in Azkaban about four years after Zira fell, even though she was involved in Bea Clutch's daughter's case - she married someone who was as good as a Love Destroyer who was on the outside, and is known as Katalina Outsider now - Aakster - from what we've heard, she wormed her way out of trouble by saying she'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - she's still at large. But as far as we know, Triphorm was never even accused of being a Love Destroyer - not that that means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Triphorm's certainly clever and cunning enough to get herself out of trouble."
"Triphorm knows Kula pretty well, but she wants to keep that quiet," said Chrissie.
"Yeah, you should've seen Triporm's face when Kula turned up in Potions yesterday!" I said quickly. "Kula wanted to talk to Triphorm, she says Triphorm's been avoiding her. Kula looked really worried. She showed Triphorm something on her arm, but I couldn't see what it was."
"She showed Triphorm something on her arm?" Mum said, she and Daddy both looked bewildered at this. Mum brushed some hair out of her face distractedly, then shrugged. "Well, we've no idea what that's about ... but if Kula's genuinely worried, and she's going to Triphorm for answers ..."
Mum stared at the cave wall, then made a grimace of frustration. "There's still the fact that Crighton trusts Triphorm, and Simba and I both know Crighton trusts where a lot of people wouldn't, but I just can't see her letting Triphorm teach at Dragon Mort if she ever worked for Zira."
"Why are Grumpy and Clutch so eager to get into Triphorm's office, then?" said Chris.
"Well," my father said slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Crazy-Head to have searched every single teacher's office when she got to Dragon Mort. She takes her Defence Against the Dark Arts seriously, Grumpy does. I'm not sure she trusts anyone at all, after the things she's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Grumpy, though, she never killed if she could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. She was tough, but she never descended to the level of the Love Destroyers. Cluth, though ... she's a different matter ... is she really ill? If she is, why did she make the effort to drag herself up to Triphorm's office? And if she's not ... what's she up to? What was she doing at the Quidditch Friendly that was so important that she didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's she been doing while she should have been judging the Tournament?"
My father then lasped into silence and put an arm around my mother, who was still staring at the cave wall. Noelani was ferreting around on the rocky floor, searching for bones she might have overlooked.
Finally, my father looked up at Chrissie. "You say your cousin's Clutch's personal assistant? Any chance you could ask her if she's seen Clutch lately?"
"I can try," said Chrissie doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like Clutch is up to anything dodgy, though. Perdy loves Clutch."
"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bernard Jenkins while you're at it," Mum said, gesturing at the second copy of the Daily Squabbler. "Of course, we know that Zira killed him, but it's best to keep the Ministry in the dark about that fact right now."
"Baxter told me they hadn't found him," I said. "I mean, I was going to tell her what I knew, but then I thought better of it. Not only do I not want Baxter thinking I'm a crazy person, but I also don't want the Ministry to freak out about it. And I can only imagine what Peter Meter would say if he found out."
"A wise decision on the whole, Kiara," my father said, smiling at me, with a twinkle of pride in his eye. "But as to Baxter, she's been blustering in a Squabbler article about how bad Bernard's memory is. Well, it looks like he might have changed since Nala and I knew him, but the Bernard we knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. He was a bit dim, but he had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get him into a lot of trouble, for he never knew when to keep his mouth shut. I could see him as being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic ... maybe that's why Baxter didn't bother to look for him for so long ... no point now, I suppose, but still ..."
My father then heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes. "What's the time?"
I checked my watch, and then I remembered that it hadn't been working since it had spent over an hour in the river.
"It's half past three," said Sian.
"You'd better get back to school," Mum said, as she and my father got back to their feet. "Now, listen ..." she looked particularly hard at me - "Your father and I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see us, all right? Just send notes to us here. We still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Dragon Mort without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."
"No one's tried to attack me so far, except a dragon, a couple of Grindylows and a Paleman," I said.
But my parents scowled at me. My father then gripped my shoulders, looked deeply in my eyes and said, "We don't care ... your mother and I'll breathe freely again when this Tournament's over, and that's not until June. And don't forget, if you're talking about us amongst yourselves, call us Leo and Leona, OK?"
Daddy then handed me back the empty napkins and flasks. As I took them, I said, "I'll send you more food soon, I promise."
Mum smiled sweetly, and brushed some hair from my face again. "You're a good daughter, Kiara. Your father and I couldn't have wished for better."
"What do you expect, Nala? She's a Pride-Lander, after all!" Daddy teased. I laughed, and the three of us hugged each other tightly for a few moments. When we let go, I went to pat Noelani goodbye. "We'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Daddy, "see if we can scrounge another paper or two."
My parents transformed into the great black dogs before we left the cave, and we walked back down the mountain with them, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. There my parents allowed Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I to pat them both on the head (I, of course, hugged them again, as well as receiving a lick on the hand from both of them), before they turned and set off at a run around the outskirts of the village.
Chris, Sian, Chrissie and I made our way back into Dragsmede, and up towards Dragon Mort.
"Wonder if Perdy knows all that stuff about Clutch?" Chris said, as we walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe she doesn't care ... it'd probably just make her admire Clutch even more. Yeah, Perdy loves rules. She'd just say Clutch was refusing to break them for her own daughter."
"Perdy would never throw any of her family to the Stingers, no matter how much she loves following rules," said Sian severely.
"I don't know," said Chrissie. "Seeing as we're her cousins, if she thought we were standing in the way of her career ... after all, Sian, Perdy's really ambitious ..."
We walked up the stone steps into the Entrance Hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted towards us from the Great Hall.
"Poor old Leo and Leona," said Chris, breathing deeply. "They must really love you, Kiara ... imagine having to live off rats." Chris grinned at me as he finished this, but at the glare I gave him, his grin vanished and he bowed his head, and I didn't speak to him for the remainder of the day.
AN: Sorry this took me a day extra to upload guys, but I hope you enjoy this chapter and that it makes sense to you.
