Chapter 13 - Oh Yes, Him
Gabrielle sat once more in the wingback chair in the Headmistress' office. Sauveuret had moved from the apron pocket to the unused hood of her Cloak of Dark- eh, cloak. This time the chair was not holding her down. The Headmistress was again setting out the antlered stone, and that annoyed Gabrielle more than a little. She did not, as a habit, tell lies. Barring the extreme circumstance, of course. Hiding a particularly troublesome truth by ignoring a question, or purposefully misunderstanding the query, did not count. The same held for the occasional, slight exaggerations. There was simply no legitimate justification for assuming that she had a reputation for lying, and therefore no justification for having a magical lie-detector aimed at her.
"Would you like some tea?" asked McGonagall. The Headmistress produced a steaming pot from a desk drawer.
"No," said Gabrielle, because to say otherwise was a lie. That sounded a little rude though, and had made the spout of the teapot droop. "Zank you, but no."
"I can assure you, Miss Delacour, that there is not a drop of potion in pot or cup." The teapot hovered expectantly over the second cup.
Gabrielle had not even considered that a possibility! Was the Headmistress known for such things? If the cup and teapot were safe, then what of the milk, or sugar? What about the spoon? What about the tiny cakes on the plate that just appeared with a small popping sound? Gabrielle eyed the confections suspiciously.
"Teacakes are for tea," said the Headmistress curtly, stirring her cup after spooning in a surprising amount of sugar. "Now, what were you doing?"
Ah, thought Gabrielle, this was a game that she had played many times with Maman. The goal was to admit to as little as possible until the questioner tired. "I, eh, was going to ze dorm."
McGonagall smiled thinly. "Over the past century and a half the Hogwarts policies regarding student discipline have changed greatly. The stocks and racks, whips and spiked enclosures lay unused. Mr. Filch, I am given to understand, takes great pride in keeping those implements in good working order should they ever be needed. I tell you this now because, due to the unusual circumstances of your admittance, the modern and less… drastic policies do not apply. So, paying heed to the previous, what were you doing prior to returning to the dorms?"
Gabrielle remained silent for a moment, trying to work out whether or not she had just been threatened with torture. It certainly sounded like she had, and Sauveuret certainly thought so too because he was chittering at the Headmistress from behind Gabrielle's left ear. That was very unlikely to help, so Gabrielle snatched him up and put him in her lap, one hand tickling under his chin to calm him. Did the accumulated pre-punishment count for nothing?
Gabrielle sighed, "I was trying to, eh, enter ze Hidden Realm." That did not sound as impressive as she had hoped.
The Headmistress nodded. "You mean the magical room on the seventh floor across from the tapestry of Barnabas?"
"Eh, what?"
"I assume Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger have shared many of their secrets with you?"
"Eh, no. Zat is, I do not zink zey did." The qualification was important, since how would she know what McGonagall thought was secret? Gabrielle did not want to set off the stone or antlers, however that worked.
McGonagall did indeed glance at the stone block with a look of, in Gabrielle's opinion, annoyance on her face. That was a cue to Gabrielle that perhaps she should try to remember as much as she could of the interview, in case there were important clues to, eh, something. "Where, or what, is this 'Hidden Realm'?" asked the Headmistress finally.
"It, eh, it is, eh…" How, wondered Gabrielle, to explain? "I zink it is une métaphore, you see?"
"Ah, you mean like 'mystic energies' and 'cosmic resonant harmonies'? Though I have to say those seem less a metaphor and more an excuse for sloth."
Gabrielle smiled carefully. She had had similar thoughts when it came to Professor Trelawney, but now that her own 'mystic energies' had failed her she could not be quite so dismissive. A second thought noted, perhaps optimistically, that the Headmistress was more nosy, that is, curious than scolding. And, that she had brought up Harry and Hermione almost at the first. "I was trying to have a vision for Hermione. Eh, zat is, Ms. Granger."
"Interesting. I have been repeatedly assured by dear Professor Trelawney that prophecies and such arise at random and not by dint of effort."
"Eh," started Gabrielle before realizing that she had nothing to go with it. She had hoped that 'Seeing for Hermione' would be automatically transfigured to 'Seeing for Harry Potter', which would of course mean that everything was secret and that she could go. Gabrielle tried to decide whether revealing the kettle and cup would help. She did not know the secrets behind the items; she could not give anything away.
The awkward lull was, Gabrielle soon regretted, interpreted by Sauveuret as some sort of fortuitous diversion taking place. He leaped from Gabrielle's lap to the desk, reached the plate of teacakes in two bounds, and then discovered that the plate was not attached to the polished surface of the desk in any useful manner. The plate, the pastries, and the squirrel slid off the desk in a shattering crash. Gabrielle jumped up to order Sauveuret not to do what had already happened. The step she took toward the fallen cakes and bits of stoneware made it easier for the squirrel to race back up the cloak to hide again in the hood, stolen teacake in his mouth.
"I'm sorry!" blurted Gabrielle. "It, it is ze season!" She took out her wand and expertly vanished the mess. That was being helpful, which was a way to reinforce her apology. Not, a second thought added, that she or even Sauveuret was truly at fault here. They had been on their way to the dorms.
"The house-elves, Miss Delacour, would, I am told, greatly appreciate it if you ceased vanishing the tableware," said McGonagall, peering at Gabrielle over the top of her spectacles.
v - v - v - v - v
"But, in this instance, you had no vision?" asked the Headmistress, holding the kettle. "It is not a signpost?"
"Eh, guidepost. No, but I will try again," replied Gabrielle. Sharing the cup and kettle had turned out to be a brilliant diversion. McGonagall was very interested in the items that Hermione had sent, so much so that recounting the evening's excursion had ended at the failed attempt at Seeing. There was no need to try to hide nor explain her presence in the library - very important if something had in fact happened there.
"Well, Miss Delacour, I do rather approve of the idea that effort can be applied to divination. Swanning about while waiting for the cosmic resonances to harmonize to one's satisfaction hardly seems a vocation at all," said McGonagall. She turned the pierced kettled over and held it at arm's-length.
Gabrielle tried to keep her face neutral. She was quite pleased by the praise, since that probably meant no punishments would be added to her weekly allotment - unjustified weekly allotment - but she also recognized the implied criticism of Professor Trelawney. Gabrielle definitely did not want to be part of anything that might reverse the recent change in the Professor's attitude.
"I can offer a bit of help for Ms. Granger," announced the Headmistress.
"You can?!"
"Yes, Miss Delacour, I can," said McGonagall sharply. Gabrielle cringed. "I do not require favorable and decidedly rare cosmic circumstances, visits to metaphorical lands, nor reserves of mystic la-de-das to read the maker's mark stamped on the bottom. I just need my eyes. And, a guide to collectible teapots, the thirty-first edition, which happens to have an expanded addendum for kettles as well."
When the Headmistress went to the private study to fetch the thirty-first edition, the chair Gabrielle sat in folded around her, making her gasp in surprise. She briefly wondered if Sauveuret was being squashed, though he probably deserved it.
"That was quite rude," scolded a portrait. "And she seems to have taken a liking to you."
"Impudent," called another.
"Imprudent," declared a third. "It might distract from the distraction, and the night's mischief will yet be revealed."
"Zere was no, eh, mischief," said Gabrielle, though she was not certain what might count as such to a portrait. She could not see any of the speakers due to the chair. "And I was not going to leave." She struggled against the padded embrace.
Gabrielle truly had had no plans to slip away in the apron, but she did have the thought that she should take a quick look at the stone block with the antlers. What did it show, that the Headmistress would look toward it every so often?
"Yes, because you were caught out," said the first portrait.
"No. I was, eh, just going to the dorms. You know zis."
"I wager that her handiwork will be revealed in the morning," said the third portrait. "That is, if she has not vanished it, nor set it ablaze."
"Ze library is not my fault - it was ze minions, eh, Madame Pince's minions zat -"
"Madame Pince's minions? What is this now?"
Gabrielle now had a desire to flee, which was still impossible because of the chair. She had to settle for hexing herself mentally. Headmistress McGonagall was back with an enormous book bound in pink, paisley-patterned leather, which she dropped onto the desk with a thud.
"Well, Miss Delacour?"
"Eh…"
v - v - v - v - v
Gabrielle tapped out 'wand and a cauldron, broomstick' on the barrels outside of the Hufflepuff Basement, the entry door appearing on the first try this time. It was not much of a deterrent in her opinion. Anyone standing nearby would be able to learn the actions easily enough. The Gryffindors and Slytherins used passwords which changed every so often. That seemed a lot more secret, though it did leave forgetful students occasionally trapped outside.
Hufflepuffs, it seemed, did not have secrets. The Headmistress certainly believed that, and was not going to let Gabrielle go without having learned as much as she could. Fortunately for Gabrielle, McGonagall was mostly interested in what Harry and Hermione had done or were planning to do. The Headmistress seemed to already know most in general, so Gabrielle thought it harmless to provide a few details regarding the horrible summers. A lot of the time had been spent discussing the cup that the rat-wizard had, and Hermione's continued fascination with Ron. Gabrielle did not even know if there were any plans, so it was quite simple to avoid revealing them. She did have to tell McGonagall about Mr. Browning as a way to explain why she was in the library, though, strangely, happily, she was allowed to skip over the whole business with the minions.
Gabrielle took off the apron before entering the common room, because the door opening was going to give her presence away anyway. She would not have to explain away the apron, even if it did blend in, perfectly, with her cloak. And skirt. And blouse. And everything else she could possibly wear, save for the dress from Nona. Which really did not count as something she would wear.
Though it was decidedly late, the common room was still lively. That was not unusual, what with there being no classes in the morning. What was unusual was that all of Gabrielle's dorm mates were gathered near the entryway, and very quickly around her.
"Gigi! Where were you? Did you get caught by Filch?"
"What were you doing? Did you lose us House points?"
"Is Sukiya with you?"
"Eh, what?" -Almost- all of Gabrielle's dorm mates surrounded her. "Where is Suki-chan?"
"We don't know," said Cath. "She went out ter root you whaen you didn't make it back for curfew."
"Eh, what?" asked Gabrielle, because she was not sure what root meant there, and why Suki-chan would do that. It was a risk to even ask, since Cath's accent was only noticeable if she was upset. "She left?"
"She was really worried about you," explained Kath.
"We all were," insisted the other Kath, looking at Mal. "Right?"
"Yeah, yeah."
Gabrielle ignored what the dismissive reply implied. It was nice to know that they all, or mostly all, cared enough to worry, but this was inside Hogwarts castle. What did they expect to happen? Especially considering what she had told them about Albania. Was it the possibility of detentions? She already had four of those a week and they were nothing more than annoying. When, that is, there was not an emergency. Minor emergency. Still, Gabrielle knew getting caught would be upsetting to Suki-chan, if for no other reason than the cranky Fulheim-dodo would be used to deliver the scolding from Suki-chan's father. Gabrielle realized that she would have to rescue Suki-chan, rather than the reverse. She would, of course, start at the worst place for the President of the Transfer Student League to be: Filch's lair. "I, eh, will go and get Suki-chan."
"Ye willnae," argued Cath. "We don't need two in trouble whaen one is brutal enough."
"Eh, yes, I zink," said Gabrielle uncertainly. "But, eh, I have ze pass from ze Headmistress." She had not needed to use it because the apron was more convenient. And, longer lasting, though the pass did not have a time or date on it to indicate when it would expire. Of course, the thin wood card inlaid with a pattern of brooms would not need that because of magic. Gabrielle had the thought that if she did not use it now, the pass might still be good later on should she, due to unforeseen, unplanned, and very likely unintentional circumstances, need a way to escape.
"You can't miss her," advised Saruchi, after landing lightly from wherever she had leapt from. "She changed into these black pajamas."
"Eh, what?" Gabrielle had been looking behind the former Ravenclaw, and Vice-President, wondering where she had come from. The closest sofa had to be nearly seven meters away.
"Unless it's really dark, of course. Then you two could pass right by each other. She said she was a ninny," continued Saruchi. "I've seen her essays for Runes, so I can believe it."
"Eh, okay," Gabrielle was somewhat surprised. Were black pajamas cute in Japan? That was usually an important consideration for her asian friend.
"Try not to surprise her, though. She took her swords, like thirty knives, and a bunch of cards."
Cards? Oh mon Dieu, thought Gabrielle, Saruchi must have meant the Japanese talismans. If Suki-chan used one of those, then she would definitely be in trouble!
v - v - v - v - v
The world of witches and wizards is one full of unlikely sights. One only has to see a dragon, or watch someone disappear up a Floo to know this. Still, occasionally a spectacle can be arresting. Gabrielle, wearing the apron, stood watching one such. She had assumed, correctly, - wait, did that count as a premonition? - that Suki-chan, regardless of what she wore, would have been caught. So Gabrielle had gone directly to the caretaker Filch's office. Her plan was to insist that the Headmistress had sent her. That was pretty much the extent of it. A confused student, smiling innocently but vacantly, would be what was expected and therefore believable.
Unexpected was the current tableau. Suki-chan stood, well, slumped against the wall of the hallway struggling to hold up a blanket. She was wearing the black pajamas and even a mask, but her long dark hair gave her away. Filch, his thin gray hair dripping, stood just in front of her, waving his arms trying to find an invisible student. Just behind him was the open door to his office, inside of which there seemed to be a thunderstorm.
Well, came a second thought, this all seems to be in order, and it is getting late. Time to get back to the dorms. This was ignored, of course, because Gabrielle had sort of made Suki-chan her charge. She did admit to herself that this situation was quite a bit more than helping a wandless witch with a few assignments. While Gabrielle dithered, there was a flash of lightning visible through the doorway, and the accompanying thunder. Also, a shrill scream. This all seems to be in order, tried her mind again.
Filch spun around to, Gabrielle imagined, surprise the invisible student who was sneaking up on him instead of slipping away down the hallway. She took that moment, ignoring second thoughts, and thirds really, to pull off the apron and tuck it away.
"Excusez-moi, Monsieur Filch. 'Ave you seen Mademoiselle Shimagina?" Gabrielle played up her accent and tried for a disarming smile of unawareness. She was foreign - she would not know better. "Zee, 'ow you say, 'eadmistress 'as -" Mrs. Norris brushed her leg.
"Another one! I'll - oh. Huh. If I could see her, I'd have her clapped into irons and hung from the wall as well," barked Filch. "Better than detention for formin' lasting memories, eh?"
"Eh, oui, bien sur, of course, eh, no," said Gabrielle vaguely, as if she had not fully understood the madman in front of her. "But, Mademoiselle - Eh… as well?"
"Caught a first-year out after curfew. -With- contraband." There was another flash from the extremely localized weather within the office. The scream from the depths of the office might have been louder than the thunder from the miniature bolt. "The rain's a right mess, but there's something to be said for the lightning for the chains."
"Eh… Oh! Nevermind, I 'ave found 'er," declared Gabrielle. She pulled Suki-chan toward her by an arm, causing the ninny to lower the blanket. "Now we will go to ze office du 'eadmistress. Zank you, and bon nuit."
"Here now, you're not going to take care of this?" demanded Filch. He pointed to his office. Water was running down the hall in a slow stream.
"Eh… no?"
Mrs. Norris yowled. The cat had touched an exploratory paw to the water, and had, against the odds, found it wet. The feline turned and glared. And mewled pathetically. The cat was like a helpless kitten who hated the world.
Gabrielle sighed. One attempt would not take long, and the cat did look unhappy. She pushed Suki-chan further down the hall, as part of the escape and to give herself sufficient run up. Two bounds, a spin, a final leap, and, "Finite Incantatem!"
Well, regarded Gabrielle, it was not raining nearly so hard. She was sure of that. Now that she could see into the dreaded office fully, and see the scattered paper and furniture, she was also sure it was not as windy. Not, she judged, a bad effort at all for her wand. She might have given it an Exceeds Expectation, but if course she expected success. Perhaps Outstanding. And Ginny thought she should get a new wand - ha!
Another sight Gabrielle could see from the doorway was the first-year. She was drenched, singed, and whimpering. Her hair stuck out at all angles from the shock of the diminutive lightning and was smouldering. Her hands were bound above her head by thick iron manacles, but her feet were on the floor. Gabrielle could see that the student, a Gryffindor, could stand if, eh, she could stand. The indoor storm, without a doubt the result of Suki-chan and the talismans, was probably worse than getting caught. Gabrielle turned to go, but found that Filch had shuffled up behind her silently, which was not a pleasant surprise at all. She only screamed briefly.
"Take that one with you," growled filch. "Keys are on the desk."
"Eh, what?"
"Come along now Mrs. Norris, love."
"It, eh, it is still, eh, raining, you see, and, eh, and - "
"We'll get you a little something for your nerves," said Filch to the dust colored cat as he walked off. "And let's go and find a real professor."
" - and you are already wet," Gabrielle muttered to his retreating back.
v - v - v - v - v
The keys were on the desk, on a broad ring with what looked like fifty others. They were next to two of the latest Weasley rocket-propelled dungbombs, the contraband. Gabrielle put those into the handbag. It took a while to find the correct key, even with ignoring the huge ones, during which Gabrielle became soaked. As did Sukiya, because Gabrielle had dragged her into the office to share in the fruits of her folly.
The student was the insane girl who had caused the Divination Debacle, and who was very clingy, hugging Gabrielle tightly. Gabrielle was glad to be appreciated, but the python-like embrace made dragging Suki-chan around even more difficult. Pepper-Up potions were added to the mental list of things that would be useful to always have.
The problem was the Gryffindor, whose name Gabrielle was sure she would soon recall. The family name had a fruit or nut in it, and something about cleaning? Actually, the problem was Gryffindor tower, in that it was a tower and was, therefore, generally up. Up was definitely more of a problem as the castle's stairs still misbehaved; down was a lot easier to manage, depending on pain tolerance. Gabrielle's, eh, custom broom could hold the three of them, if they squashed up against one another, but the difference between level flight and maximum climb was almost imperceptible. Reaching the Gryffindor common room might take hours, and would… Cherrymop? Berrybroom? even remember the password?
The infirmary was closer, but still up. And, it was very likely that Madame Pomfrey would insist on an explanation. Such would require a level of finesse that Gabrielle was sure that her tired state did not allow. The fact that she was completely soaked and cold and well on her way to a case of the Grippe was a big part of what made her exhausted. So, down was where they would go. Down to the Hufflepuff Basement, where Miss, eh, Cherryduster could become someone else's problem.
v - v - v - v - v
The morning found Gabrielle Grippe-less, which was well. Kath was an excellent bed-warmer. It also found the common room Gryffindor-less, which was even better. Gabrielle had dallied in the dorm room anyway, to use the apron to pass through the barrel-vaulted common room. A deserted hall with a closet was the perfect place to take it off in, since if she went to the Great Hall with it on her, her arms would soon be filled with used plates and cups.
If Gabrielle had known that nearly every head belonging to students of a certain House would turn toward her, she would have endured the dirty dishes. It was as bad as it was at, at her old school when an owl would arrive for her. There is nothing like the craning of necks to point out where suspicion should fall. And, their excited whispers were ever -so- subtle. "That's her, I swear - flattened Filch in a duel." "No, Conner is full of shite. She blew up his office, saw it myself." "I thought you said she was a Veela." And idiotic.
Gabrielle dropped into the seat next to Suki-chan, who was trained both in the way of the ninny and in the way of the ninja. Gabrielle was pretty sure that ninja was the Japanese word for ninny, unless Suki-chan could provide a good reason for conjuring the storm in Filch's office. She had not had a chance to ask yet.
"Ohayo," greeted Sukiya.
"Bon matin," replied Gabrielle. "You are okay, yes? Why did - Eh, what is zat?" Gabrielle had just noticed the food in front of her friend. It looked like a brain that was melting.
"Omurice!"
"Eh…"
"'S not bad, if you like your eggs a bit runny," said Malachite.
"Well I don't," complained Saruchi.
"Never had red sauce in rice before."
A plate of pinkish rice topped with a blob of… egg? appeared in front of Gabrielle. The color was not quite right. The blob did not look runny, so perhaps the house-elves had heard Saruchi. At least, it did not until Suki-chan sliced the quivering mass with a knife, causing it to split open and ooze down the sides of the piled rice. Gabrielle found herself recalling quite fondly the fresh fruit and chocolate-filled croissants of Beau- of her previous school.
Ignoring the various biological horrors the dish could be compared to, Gabrielle dug her fork in. Even Saruchi was trying - she was attempting to brown the glistening egg with a conjured flame. Gabrielle knew she could do better, but also knew that she could not, which made her a little sad. No more happy little flames flaring from her wand, or beautiful masses turning in the air.
"We will meet in club - in league room tonight," announced Sukiya.
"Eh, what? What league room?"
"-After- the Iron Wills study group," said Saruchi firmly.
"Ehh? On Saturday? Even then?" whined Suki-chan.
"There's no reason to leave it all until Sunday night," admonished Saruchi. "Or Monday morning."
"Nevermind zat for now," said Gabrielle. Leaving it until Sunday afternoon was fine, though. Probably. Right? Early afternoon, a second thought corrected, was what she had meant.
"Did you really duel Filch?" asked Malachite.
"Eh, what? Non, zat is silly."
"I heard the Gryffindors saying you killed him."
Gabrielle tried to give the overgrown girl a piteous Look. Besides the very high likelihood of being expelled for killing a member of the staff, given that Gabrielle was not Harry Potter, the fact that Filch was hunched over a bowl of gruel might have been conclusive evidence to the contrary. Malachite did not notice as she finished shoveling in her breakfast.
"You might consider learning the news from Ravenclaws," said Saruchi dismissively. "Less apt to just make things up if they don't actually know anything." Gabrielle made a mental note to never serve Saruchi runny eggs. It made her grumpy. A banana would improve her League member's mood.
"I zink Suki-chan can tell us what - "
"Look! Owls!" pointed Sukiya excitedly, as if it was not something that happened every morning.
Gabrielle rolled her eyes. Resorting to something so stupid meant that Suki-chan really did not want to talk about last night. When Gabrielle was younger and only a child, she would do the same thing. She well knew that the next excuse would likely be some sort of desperate stomach ailment. She would just have to wait until Suki-chan came to her. Possibly Sunday night. Probably Monday morning.
v - v - v - v - v
Gabrielle did not have to wait until Suki-chan was just a bit short on the assignments to trap her. Suki-chan trapped herself. The Senior Advisor Mari had not been heard from since the first day, and Vice-President Saruchi was late from the Congress of Iron Wills study group. This left President Shimagina all alone with the poor junior member that was Gabrielle.
The room for the meeting of the Transfer Student League was an abandoned classroom on the seventh floor. The windowless room had not been used for so long that it had started to, well, sort of fade. In size, it was hardly larger than the dorm room, and only had six desks within. There was nothing on the walls or the shrunken blackboard to suggest what class was formerly taught there. In chalk, someone had written, "Sometimes it is easier to forget than forgive." The writing had shrunk along with the blackboard, which made it more difficult to read. Suki-chan erased it to write "Welcome" in English, and probably the same in Japanese.
Gabrielle waited until Sukiya finished adding a couple of flowers for decoration, then cleared her throat. "Did you use ze talisman on Filch?"
Sukiya did not turn to face Gabrielle. "On Filch-sensei? No. No way."
Two things gave Suki-chan away to Gabrielle. One was the titter of nervous laughter after the denial. The second was the subtle emphasis placed on the word 'on'. It was unfair, because Maman had done this so many times, but Gabrielle jumped to the conclusion that her friend had tried to use the talisman but had missed. Gabrielle shared this leap. Sukiya dropped into a chair, then put her head to the desk and buried herself beneath her arms.
"Please. Please don't tell Headmistress McGonagall-sensei," begged Suki-chan.
"Eh, why would I do zat?" asked Gabrielle, confused. "But Suki-chan, it is too dangerous! What if you had fainted?"
"Gomenasai! I had to do something!"
"Eh… why?" asked Gabrielle. It seemed a very good question, since if the goal had been to find her then simply hiding from the caretaker would have been, eh, smarter.
She knew the question was a good one by the way Suki-chan mumbled her reply into the desk. "-What- was zat, young, eh…" Oh mon Dieu, thought Gabrielle, I sound like Maman.
"...was you in office," mumbled Suki-chan.
Gabrielle found it difficult to not berate her friend for her mumbling, her posture, and her rudeness for not looking at the person to whom she spoke. Even counting under her breath was an uncomfortable reminder of similar scenes at Delacour Manor.
Gabrielle shook her head to clear the Past, and took a deep breath. Suki-chan had said "was you in office." Probably. That really was clear enough, was it not? Certainly enough so to indicate that Suki-chan had lost her senses.
"You zought ze girl wizz brown hair, wearing ze burgundy and gray uniform wizz ze scarlet and gold emblem was me?" asked Gabrielle. She plucked at her monochromatic outfit as a hint.
"Oops!" said a grinning Sukiya, knuckling her own head.
"Eh, what?" That was a little weird, thought Gabrielle. "Zis is serious. You can not use zose talisman again." Young lady, added a second thought because it seemed to fit.
"Yes, it is correct. Talisman can be activated one time," nodded Sukiya.
"Eh, no. I mean zat you will hurt yourself if you use zem. You may be caught - caught and expelled!"
"Father's spells are very strong…"
"Too strong! I mean, he is huge," insisted Gabrielle. Was that rude?
"He is very gentle. He loves cats," described Suki-chan. "And beer."
"Oh, eh, zat is alright zen," said Gabrielle. It did not make a lot of sense, but they were straying from the important topic, which was Suki-chan's potential death by talisman. "You can make your own, zhough, yes?"
Sukiya drew inthe dust on the desk with her fingertip before answering. "I can only do a few useful for shrine."
Gabrielle recognized the tone - a boundary had been reached and Suki-chan was not going to be a willing participant in the conversation anymore. A second thought noted that she had noticed this. Maman would be, well, perhaps not proud but at least satisfied that some social skills had been learned.
And then, disappointed as Gabrielle continued through the boundary. "You mean for cleaning, or, eh, eh, ringing bells?" She was not sure how closely a Japanese shrine would match up with a French chapel, and had tried to envision what sort of spell might be required.
"No. Warding of evil and purifying," explained Suki-chan quietly. "Cleaning and bell-ringing we do by hand."
"Oh, zen zat is fine," realized Gabrielle. "Zey say zat Filch is evil, and his, eh, hygiene is not good." One could always tell where he had been by the traveling miasma, but, strangely, not that he was coming.
Suki-chan was just staring at her, but since she was not protesting Gabrielle suspected that she had a 'clean run at the hoops'. Gabrielle also suspected that if one could create a ward talisman, then a Full Body Bind should be easy. "Can you make one now?" she asked.
"No, I am sorry. Mine only work on youkai," apologized Sukiya, bowing her head slightly.
"Oh, eh, okay." Disappointment was hard to keep from her voice, because Gabrielle was becoming more and more interested in the talisman. They were, she realized, very like a backup wand, and if she could learn to make and use them herself then she would not be reduced to throwing only rocks the next time a person like Granecole took her wand.
"I do not have ink or paper either," continued Suki-chan. "I am sorry."
"Perhaps later zen you could, eh, show me?" asked Gabrielle. "It is very cute." That should help. "Also, what is un you-guy?"
Before Sukiya could answer, the door to the tiny classroom burst open and then was quickly slammed shut. Saruchi braced against the door, catching her breath.
"What is wrong?" asked Gabrielle immediately. "Are you okay?"
"That Craig Torrae is outside! I don't think he saw me," explained Saruchi breathlessly.
"Eh, who?"
"The Head Boy, from Ravenclaw!"
"Oh, yes. Him," said Gabrielle. She looked to Suki-chan, who did not appear to have any idea why this would be an emergency either. "Eh, so? What is he doing?"
"He's walking back and forth in the hallway," informed Saruchi. "Suspiciously."
"Eh, yes. He is probably looking for the magical room across from the tapestry wizz Barnabas" Paying attention can help.
"The what?"
"Ze Headmistress mentioned it," replied Gabrielle. "But, eh, it is a Harry Potter secret, so I can not say zat much." She could not say much because she did not know anything more than its location. It sounded cooler the way she said it.
"Hah! I was right!" crowed Saruchi, who was jumping up and down. Bananas, thought Gabrielle, should be added to the list too.
Suki-chan joined Saruchi's celebration, so, even though it felt a little stupid, Gabrielle jumped around too. Because they were a League.
Eventually the excitement died away, leaving the assembled members of the Transfer Student League panting. Panting, and asking questions, such as "Right about what?" and "Why are we here?"
v - v - v - v - v
The walls shook a bit, the glass on the shelves tinkled, and dust drifted down from the plaster ceiling. Arthur Weasley paid it scant attention these days. Old Hooper was nearly deaf as a post, and had acquired a Grand-Boomer clock for his office on the floor above. The explosions marked the quarter-hour. It was not difficult to guess the creators of the clock, particularly if one peeked beneath the sheet that, per office regulations governing ribald images, covered the piece. Even so, it helped Hooper manage his remaining time in his mortal coil, and kept him awake for his afternoon meetings about exotic fungi export targets. It was a bit of a stretch to call it community service, but the twins had found themselves a cracker of a solicitor.
A film of muggle plastic, provided as part of the community service needed after the first community service, hung over the desk and chair and kept the grit from Arthur's tea. Remarkable stuff, in his opinion. The plastic, though the tea was quite good by Ministry standards. Quite similar to the material covering the plugs in his collection, but nearly transparent in this instance and as thin as parchment. Would not take a charm or jinx for any length of time, he was told, but the twins claimed to have found a way around that. Merlin only knows what they need it for.
The twins sat in his office now. Not, happily, on their way to more community service. George sat on the right; Fred on the left. It was becoming easier to tell the two apart these days. Verity's influence, no doubt. Arthur Weasley cleared his throat, and began. "Now boys, this is just a 'head's up' as they say, a bit of a warning -"
"Oh for Merlin's sake - I can't believe she went ahead with it," complained Fred.
"I suppose it was a bit of an… 'intrusion' on her 'privacy'," said George, serious except for the winking.
"The labels are completely different!"
"Ah, but the boxes are identical."
The Weasley patriarch said nothing, This was partially due to this being his office, and discussions herein were technically the business of the Magical Law Enforcement department. So any clarification or additional details he might request could be construed as the department taking an interest, There would need to be paperwork. Besides, this was more fun, both as theatre and as a puzzle.
"A #10 self-folder from Burkett&Dunn? Not exactly a rare choice," said Fred. "Besides, wouldn't it be prudent, in the legal definition, to at least check the color of the box before pouring it into one's knickers?"
"It does call into question the wisdom of her storage strategy," noted George. "Sorting by category, for an example, might be better than arranging by size. Slytherin Sludge would be better kept apart from one's embarrassing medicinal powders."
"At least we know, personally, that it's safe for internal use," added Fred. "Just not, er, recommended."
"Some might find it a little traumatizing."
"And some would not? That does suggest a new market niche…"
Arthur Weasley cleared his throat again. The pieces to the puzzle had dropped into place rather explicitly. "Er, that aside, I wanted to let you know right off that Robert MacEacherm was found dead. A werewolf attack, or made to look like one. Nasty business."
"The poor sod."
"He deserved better."
"Weren't many like him; a bit of salted earth, that man."
"Who was he again?"
"Husband to a Scottish councilwoman, a muggle," described Arthur. "That's attracted the Crown's attention. And, hired by Gringotts as the caretaker for the Winterhall Estate."
v - v - v - v - v
Gabrielle lay in bed, under the covers. With socks. Hogwarts castle was centuries old, and seemed to have been built at a time when Britain had drifted closer to the equator since there was no provision at all for heating the dorm rooms. No one seemed inclined to do anything about it magically, and she was banned. Gabrielle was not certain that the castle would even be habitable soon, because she was told,"there's a fair nip to the air, yeah, but it's hardly even autumn yet."
Her susceptibility to the cold was, Gabrielle had deduced, probably another aspect of her being grounded by sensory humours. Ginny was always saying that she should get her humours balanced, but Gabrielle had never heard of anyone having that done. Which meant that the treatment did not exist, or was so horrible that no one dare breathe its name.
It all left Gabrielle of two minds regarding the forced sharing of her bed. She was definitely more likely to survive the 'properly winter' season to come with the extra warmth of a dorm mate next to her. But, Gabrielle also felt that a mature young witch should not need tending every night. Or any night, really. It had been weeks since Mount Mal's invasion had started this. Surely, Gabrielle thought, I am inured to Hogwarts by now and therefore unlikely to have nightmares every night. She would propose a trial period. Again.
Tonight it was Suki-Chan's turn. Each of her dorm mates had a different habit. Suki-chan liked to join her in the lofted bed early, and had a favorite set of frilly, 'kawai' pajamas she would wear for the, eh, visit. Suki-chan liked to stay up late talking and giggling under the blanket until Malachite would get angry.
When it was Kathleen's turn, she would always check to make sure there was nothing sharp, or could hide anything sharp, in the bed before settling in. It was hard to complain about that considering the mishap in Potions. Katherine, much taller than Gabrielle, would sleep curled up over Gabrielle's head. Gabrielle had to sleep facing away, or be suffocated by ample breasts. Catherine would wait as long as possible to climb up, grumbling under her breath the entire time. She would take up a position as far from Gabrielle as was possible. Until, at least, she fell asleep. Then Catherine would roll over and hug Gabrielle to her tightly the rest of the night. Malachite, who started the whole routine, was actually the least intrusive. If one could ignore her excessive blanket usage, that is. She slept on her side, facing away, until morning.
Gabrielle pulled out her BADAR device as Suki-chan started up the ladder with her usual, "Suminaisen." Only Suki-chan and Kathleen ever brought their own pillows; it was strange that the others did not, but the fact also gave Gabrielle hope that this arrangement really was intended to be temporary.
"Oh! It is biting," commented Sukiya after squirming over Gabrielle. Her long dark hair felt like a silk scarf as it slid across Gabrielle's enjoyed the sensation, and always made a point of thinking about Suki-chan's hair. She hoped to encourage her own to, eh, do something.
The metal mandibles were indeed snapping, and not just once but continuously. That meant George needed to get a message to her urgently. And, Gabrielle logically leapt to a conclusion, urgent might mean his last words as some errand for Harry Potter went tragically wrong. There had been 'Mortal Peril' before! Of course, reassured a second thought, that he was continually sending an exclamation point must mean that he could still be saved. Gabrielle wondered how far she could get on her broom for a rescue. A third thought suggested actually opening the wing case to find out what George was desperate to say. That was definitely a good first step to saving him.
The reticulated membrane of the wing was not showing the exclamation point glowing as expected. Neither did the metal insect cease working its jaws when the wing was pulled open, something Gabrielle only realized after a painful pinch. The wing only showed a strange symbol covering a number of the panes framed by the dark veins. Since only one the panes at a time was supposed to glow, now that each one represented a letter or number, like Philippe's tray of buttons, and since the mandibles were still clicking open and closed, Gabrielle began to dread that the device was now broken. A second thought quickly cheered though - George would have to come and fix it, preferably just before the Halloween Ball. Which he would of course accompany her at. She poked the appropriate punctuation pane with her wand, to get George's attention. Unless it was completely broken, in which case a second poke would not matter.
"Oh-h! Is it your boyfriend?" asked Sukiya, pressing close.
Gabrielle did not mind her friend watching, since Suki-chan could not really piece together the glowing letters well enough to follow their content. Gabrielle had had a lot of practice. Another poke of her blond wand. "Eh, it may, eh, be broken. You see? Zis symbol is weird."
"Can you make legs work? They are kawai!"
Gabrielle did not find the articulated legs to be 'cute'. The complicated, jointed legs were well-made, but not particularly useful. Unless one needed to know that the faux beetle was annoyed; that was all they seemed to convey. She was going to tell Sukiya that she was too busy trying to fix the beetle, but that was not really true since all she was doing was poking the same spot repeatedly. It might be, considered Gabrielle, that another part of the device was in need of poking, if the wing did not work.
The words 'another' and 'beetle' jogged Gabrielle's memory. She, well, had another beetle, the one she had removed from the, eh, thing where the, eh… the car. It was buried beneath the inky darkness of her clothing in the handbag. Easy to find, though, since it was not black. Gabrielle gave it to Sukiya. "Try poking ze legs wizz your brush."
"Ehh? I will get it."
While Sukiya and her silky hair clambered back over, Gabrielle poked the wing again with her wand, and then tapped the metal bug between its faceted eyes. Long and silky hair would surely stand out more, she thought to her own. Silently, of course, since the idea she could convince her hair to be something else might be both useless and stupid. The beetle contrived to look both hurt and abashed, even though it could not change its expression. Gabrielle apologized quietly.
Even so, the light, very light, tap might have worked. After poking the wing twice more, the weird symbol cleared. Even better, the panes on the veined wing started glowing in sequence as a message came in. Gabrielle watched carefully, piecing together the letters. The message was rather abrupt, and she did not know what to make of it.
"Caretaker dead. Murdered? Do not go to Winterhall. Mum has a room for Christmas."
Gabrielle stared at her beetle for a bit longer, then the second one. Had it shifted around to face her on its own, or had it been pointed that way before? She wished she had not forgotten about it so she could have gotten rid of the spare bug before it became so ominous.
Why, asked a second thought, was the found BADAR device now ominous? Gabrielle thought about that. Besides the possibility of it having turned to stare at and potentially bite her, it was something valuable that had last belonged to a murder victim. The beetle might have been the reason for the murder; that was possible. And, the murderer might still want the device. That was why the Winterhall Estate was forbidden, though that was really an improvement. Possibly murdered, reminded a second thought.
The new-found talent for premonition came up with a thought: there was a little, crudely drawn arrow somewhere pointing right at this second beetle, and right at her as long as she had it. Gabrielle started poking at her device frantically. George would know what to do with it. An ignored second thought postulated a new-found talent for delusion.
Sukiya returned and rolled over Gabrielle, who warned, "Zat beetle might be, eh, dangerous. Do not let it bite you!"
Premonition and predictions being what they are, it was nearly a minute and a half before Suki-chan squeaked, "Ow!"