clxxxi. wing and claw

As the days of November tricked by, Minister Gaunt continued to make several visits to the school, which was quite unfortunate for Harriet. She formed the habit of keeping the Argonaut's Atlas close at hand—which meant leaving her necklace of bones out for others to see. Harriet earned more than her fair share of strange looks and funny murmurs.

For the most part, Harriet kept to the common room. She read novels, worked on schoolwork, or spent long hours worrying about what nonsense Professor Slytherin was devising for his prospective apprentice. She read over the younger students' essays for the sheer want of something productive to do.

Classes intensified slowly but surely in preparation for the exams at the end of term. Their professors had begun to make noise about the OWLs, impressing upon them the importance of scoring well on the tests at the end of their fifth year, as it directly affected their future choices and careers.

That all seemed so very far away to Harriet.

She had more free time than her friends, considering she only had Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes for electives and had the good sense not to take the beast that was Arithmancy. What free time Hermione did have she spent making eyes at Terry Boot from Ravenclaw like a smitten Mooncalf.

"I do not," she'd snapped when Harriet pointed it out. "Don't be ridiculous."

Ridiculous or not, Hermione did claim she and Terry had decided to go to Hogsmeade together when the next trip arrived.

Elara, meanwhile, had been in a mood, especially when those witches from Beauxbatons flounced by their table. She grumped and growled and even snapped at Harriet, which wasn't wholly outside of the usual, except all Harriet had done was ask if she was all right.

So, while her friends spent what little recreational time they had mooning or brooding, Harriet spent hers worrying about Professor Slytherin or helping younger students with their homework. Some days, Harriet wandered outside and ran on the track, now void of Quidditch players due to the postponed season. Sometimes she visited with Hagrid and had tea or helped him in his garden.

Today was such a day, Harriet kneeling by the half-giant's vegetable patch, spreading manure and soil over spring roots to insulate them for the winter. She wouldn't say this was her preferred way to spend an afternoon, but the highlands had few pleasant days left, and she liked the sunshine. It felt nice. Uncomplicated.

"That there's a new plant I got off a Niffler breeder in Cornwall. Helped him out with problem and he was grateful," Hagrid said as he used his trowel to bury the peculiar roots. "Camelot Kale. Grows as big as a 'orse, and the Threstral herd will love 'em when foaling season starts again. It's a good supplement for 'em."

Harriet scraped muck from her dragonhide gloves. "Can people eat it too?"

"Wouldn't recommend it. It's bitter as vinegar and the leaves have a fleshy texture."

Scrunching her face, Harriet continued to spread the manure, then sat back with an exhale. She could see fat birds perched on the edge of Hagrid's hut, looking down into the garden, speculating when they could come and scavenge. Their beady eyes watched Harriet's every move.

"How's Hermione and Elara? They haven't stopped in for a visit in a while."

Harriet complained for a bit about homework and classes and her friends being silly. She grumbled about Hermione spending her free time with the Ravenclaws and Elara being unconscionably grumpy while creating issues with Sirius back home. Harriet's godfather made several requests for her to nag Elara into taking his correspondence while Elara cooly replied she'd write to Sirius when she needed to. Harriet felt like an owl flitting between the two in their bizarre, passive-aggressive game.

"Sirius was always a good lad," Hagrid said as he shoveled soil into pots bigger than Harriet was tall. "But I can't imagine he's all there in the 'ead after all those years in Azkaban. Nasty place, Harry. Don't know a single witch or wizard who wasn't a bit funny after spending time there, no disrespect intended, 'course."

Harriet looked up at Hagrid and shaded her eyes against the sunlight. "D'you know Sirius well when he was a student?"

"Oh, as well as I ever get to know the students who try to sneak off to the Forest." Hagrid huffed under his breath as if lost in memory. "Him and James and Pr'fessor Lupin used to break into the broom shed and give themselves free run of the grounds. It felt like a full-time job just keeping that lot from flying off after lessons."

He hadn't mentioned Pettigrew, and Harriet thought that a deliberate choice. Remus and Sirius often chose to omit the rat from their old stories, and she guessed anyone who knew them from their schooldays would do the same.

Thinking of Sirius as a teenager reminded her of the conversation they'd had on Hallowe'en.

"Hagrid? Did you know Professor Snape as a student?"

"'Course I did. Bit of an unfriendly mite, but he always came around looking to learn about the creatures what went into his potions. Didn't get along at all with the boys in Gryffindor there, especially your dad." Hagrid suddenly clammed up, rubbing a rueful hand through his beard. "Probably shouldna said that…."

Harriet stood and knocked muck from her trousers and stripped off her gloves. "You haven't said anything I didn't already know, Hagrid. It's okay."

The more she learned about her parents—James in particular—the more Harriet wondered how much of their memory had been lightened by their tragic deaths, and if the people who remembered them only saw James and Lily through rose-colored glasses. As she got older, she realized people had a lot of depth to them, whether for good or for bad, and it made her feel…conflicted. As if she'd never really ever know her parents, not even through stories.

A commotion drew Harriet's attention over the fence and across the grounds toward the path leading from the lake. The high-pitched giggling heralded the appearance of Viktor Krum jogging on the track, trailed by a group of witches doing a terrible job of being inconspicuous. He trudged along at a steady clip and paid his entourage no mind. His path took him from the lake and upward toward the castle itself, right by Hagrid's hut.

Harriet watched him run past. As he did so, the Quidditch star turned his head in her direction and winked.

Confused, Harriet glanced up at Hagrid, who had paused in his work to watch as well. The giggling witches were doing a lot less giggling as they tried to keep up with Krum on the incline. They huffed and wheezed the entire way.

"Why's Krum winking at you?" Harriet asked.

Hagrid shook his head and guffawed.

"What?"

The guffawing increased, and Hagrid patted Harriet on the back. The force sent her toppling into the garden bed's freshly laid manure.

She still didn't understand what was funny.

When the bell rang, Harriet stepped into the hut to wash her hands and grab her satchel, then bid Hagrid goodbye as she headed inside for lunch. She crossed the sweeping lawn, the grass beginning to brown for the approaching winter, and started up the wide steps to the entrance hall. She had only just entered the doors when she spotted Luna Lovegood standing by herself, seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey, Luna," Harriet greeted her. "Whatcha doing?"

"Hello." Luna blinked and focused, tucking the long strands of her pale hair behind her ears. "I was looking for my shoes."

Only then did Harriet glance down and notice Luna's bare feet on the flagstones.

"What do you mean you're looking for your shoes? Where did they go?"

"They have a habit of disappearing. Between you and me, I think Nargles are responsible."

"Nar—?" Harriet stuttered, still peering at Luna's bare toes. Initially, she wondered if there was some heretofore unknown creature going around nicking trainers and if she should be worried about her own footwear, but then she understood the most likely culprit was probably far less mythical. "Oh."

Harriet pulled her wand out and performed a Summoning Charm with frustrated fervor. A clatter somewhere from the direction of the main stair vault sounded, then two pairs of shoes with the laces tied in a knot came flying at her, Harriet holding up her arms to cover her head. They bounced off of her and hit the ground.

"There we are," she said, breathless, picking one up. "D'you want me to show you a spell I know? I think it'll keep the, um, Nargles off your things."

"Could you?"

Harriet handed the shoe over and, disregarding the smell of lunch drifting from the Great Hall, taught Luna the same hex she used to dissuade anyone with sticky fingers from touching her trunk. Luna stuck a pair on her feet—sans socks—with a pleasant hum when finished.

"That's much better. Thank you, Harriet."

"You're welcome." She questioned if she should have a word with Boot or Goldstein about the Ravenclaws nicking Luna's things. She couldn't be sure it wouldn't backfire and make the issue worse if she stuck her nose in it.

Luna picked up her second pair of brogues and suddenly looked at Harriet as if she hadn't realized she was there before. "Do you want to help me with a project after curfew? Daddy wants me to ask the Merpeople about sightings of Nessie in the highlands for his paper."

"Nessie? Doesn't, err, Nessie live in the Loch Ness?"

"Well, everyone needs a vacation."

Harriet wasn't a hundred percent certain what Luna meant by that, and yet she decided not to question her further on it. "You can't talk to them during Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Not during this time of the year."

Oh, that was right. Harriet remembered the Merpeople only came up to the shore to help the class in the spring, otherwise they stuck to deeper waters during the day. Once winter set in, they wouldn't come to the surface at all.

Despite knowing Hermione and Elara would have kittens if they knew what she was agreeing to, Harriet told Luna, "All right. That shouldn't be a problem." She could use her Invisibility Cloak and the Atlas if needed. "Though, if we get caught out by Snape, I don't think either of us will see daylight ever again…"

xXx

Luna and Harriet set a time to meet after dinner before curfew, and they wandered out into the grounds before night set in and any professors could order them inside. They sat by the lakeshore on a sheltered outcropping of rocks and shared bacon butties scavenged from the Great Hall, chatting about classes and Luna's life outside Hogwarts as the sky darkened.

"So why doesn't the Quibbler do articles like the Prophet? I mean, stuff on news and events, not the rubbish made-up stories they use as filler," Harriet asked, picking at the hard crust of her sandwich. "It'd be nice to read something that isn't fake all the time." Or controlled by Gaunt's Ministry. Though, could she really vouch for the Quibbler's authenticity? Xenophilius did write some rather odd pieces.

"Daddy's considering it," Luna admitted with a sage nod. "He's experimenting with articles about unexplained disappearances and deaths in Muggle towns. There's been quite a few in the smaller villages of Yorkshire, you know. A few bits and pieces of the missing people have turned up, but nothing more. How curious."

Harriet grimaced at the imagery. "D'you think that has anything to do with magic?"

"Maybe. Daddy thinks it could be vampires, or a new type of magical sickness that the Ministry is covering up. He needs more evidence before writing anything up."

Their conversation turned to lighter topics until one of the Merpeople passed by, and Luna was able to stand on the pebbled shore and ask her questions. Really, speaking with the Mers meant playing a bizarre game of charades unless you were willing to dunk your head underwater, and given the cooling weather, Luna refrained. Harriet sat back on the rocks with her feet kicked out as she waited and watched the distant, lowered sails on the Durmstrang ship ripple in the breeze.

Strangely enough, as she stared at the foreign school's floating vessel, Harriet noted movement on the shore. She blinked and leaned forward to better see around the foliage—and there she spotted Durmstrang's Headmaster walking swiftly toward the forest. He had a nervous look about him, his shoulders high and the top of his white hair gleaming in the moonlight. He cast a furtive glance around himself as he snuck into the trees.

What is he doing?

Harriet stood and knocked the dirt from the back of her robes. She pulled her Invisibility Cloak free of her pocket as she did so, and called to Luna, "I'll be back in a minute."

The distracted Ravenclaw waved her off, though the Merman flicked his luminous eyes in her direction. "Okay."

Striding toward the water, Harriet quickly shouldered the Cloak and broke into a jog along the shore, pebbles and sand crunching under her school shoes as she went. Once at the place Headmaster Karkaroff had disappeared, she slowed her stride and made sure the Cloak's hood was in the place. She searched for the suspicious bloke and found him a few meters ahead, stumbling through the bracken and underbrush, cursing in a low, foreign tongue.

Knowing she'd more than likely regret the decision, Harriet followed him.

Why is he out here? she wondered as she took out her wand and kept it aimed at Karkaroff's back. Surely Dumbledore warned him about the Forbidden Forest? Bloody hell, it's called FORBIDDEN. Did he think that was just a suggestion?

Harriet didn't have a solid reason to trail Karkaroff, but the whole debacle with the Goblet of Fire had been far too peculiar in her opinion, and because she usually became the target of peculiar things, Harriet thought it best to ensure he wasn't up to anything nefarious.

He saw Slytherin and nearly soiled his britches, she reminded herself, fingers tightening around her wand. Nobody looks at that tosser like that unless they know who he is.

They did not travel far before voices echoed in the trees, and Harriet hesitated as the vibration of something heavy hitting the earth shook under her feet. Karkaroff paused as well, taking in a startled breath before continuing forward at greater speed. He seemed to know what he was looking for.

At first, Harriet couldn't make sense of what she saw between the thinning trunks ahead of her. Silhouettes flickered back and forth, chased by muffled shouts and sudden gouts of flame. Something hit a tree with enough force to topple it, the ghoulish cracking of wood raising the fine hairs on the back of Harriet's neck. She forgot about Karkaroff as she darted behind one of the bigger pines for cover and peered around it, her stomach doing somersaults in her middle.

Scales glittered in the light of the burning brush, and Harriet swallowed a yelp when one of the dragons in the clearing opened its vasts wings, leathery skin catching the air with low whumps of noise. Four dragons gathered there, surrounded by wizards and massive crates. As Harriet watched, several of the wizards aimed their wands at a dragon with a long, blue snout and struck it with several bright red beams of light. The dragon snorted out smoke before settling in the dirt.

Harriet had seen many things at Hogwarts—including a bloody Basilisk bigger than a lorry and as long as a small train—but she'd never seen something quite as fearsome as a dragon before.

"Merlin's bones," she breathed, fingernails digging into the tree's bark. Karkaroff skulked through the tree and stared at one of the beasts until its head whipped about in his direction, and the Headmaster scuttled back under cover. A tail whipped out and cleaved branches.

In the shadow of one of the crates, Harriet noticed Hagrid chatting with a redheaded wizard. She studied the wizard, squinting against the glaring light—and recognized him as Charlie Weasley, whom she'd met earlier that summer at the World Cup.

"Is that—is that Madam Maxime?" Harriet spotted the woman standing behind Hagrid, looking on enraptured as another of the massive creatures was brought down into the singed grass. Hagrid laughed at something Charlie said, his booming voice carrying despite the ruckus, and Madam Maxime touched his arm. "Is this his idea of a ruddy date?"

"It would make for a thrilling outing."

The voice spoke a few scant inches from Harriet's ear, and she shrieked. "Ah!" Her weakened knees went out from under her, and she ended up sprawled in the dry pine needles. "Bloody hell, Luna! You scared the life out of me!"

The younger witch smiled. "Sorry. I got worried when you didn't return, but I see you found something much more interesting to investigate."

Harriet grumbled as she stood, tugging prickly bits of foliage off her backside. The Invisibility Cloak's cool fabric slid against her face, and she turned on Luna. "How did you even find me?"

"Your hand was sticking out. I almost missed it, but it's not often you see a tree with hands."

Aforementioned hand had planted itself against the tree's trunk for balance, and Harriet realized it must have slipped out when she touched it the first time. Careless of her. "Never mind that. Hurry, get under here before Karkaroff sees you."

Luna slipped beneath the Cloak with her, and together they stood for several minutes in silence, watching the dragons and their handlers. One witch broke off from the group to put out the little fires that had sprung up in the scuffle. The air smelled of smoke and rotten eggs.

"I guess we know what the first task in the Triwizard Tournament will be," Luna said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's four dragons. Four dragons, and four champions. They must be from a reservation on the continent."

She had a point. Harriet studied the dragons again and counted them again—each a massive, winged creature wreathed in horns, fangs, and claws, the earth scorched in great swathes where their flames had escaped their mouths. The largest of the dragons still fought the wizards, and its outstretched wings almost passed the tops of the trees.

Harriet shook her head and couldn't help but rub a hand against her brow. Large bursts of spellwork struck the dragon for a final time, and it fell. The earth rolled underfoot. "Merlin, this is mental. Let's hope if someone has to be eaten, it's Longbottom."

Luna laughed.

They didn't linger for much longer. Curfew had only passed an hour before, and if they hurried, they'd get inside before the professors started patrolling. Luna hummed the entire way back, unconcerned with the prospective trouble hanging over their heads or thoughts of the Triwizard Tournament's dangers. Harriet thought the Ministry might really be barmy if they meant for students to face dragons. What if one of them got burnt to a crisp?

"Here, I know another spot inside," Harriet told Luna, leading her to a place she'd found and noted on the Atlas last year. The way the short cliff abutted the castle wall made it easy to hop onto the roof and get inside through the first-floor window, though Harriet gathered it wasn't well known because of how isolated that particular wing of the castle was, and because most witches and wizards weren't physically inclined. Still, she found it handy, and it provided a discreet entrance into the school.

She caught Luna's hands when the younger witch jumped and almost slipped off the roof's edge. Harriet pulled her upright, then checked the Atlas to ensure the corridor was clear. Merlin forbid they sneak in and cross paths with Gaunt. Or Slytherin. Or Snape.

Harriet shuddered.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"Hmm?" Harriet replied, studying the Atlas. "Oh, right. You're welcome. I hope you got enough information for Xeno's article."

"He always looks forward to your letters, you know. I do too."

Harriet pried open the rusty window and ushered Luna inside first, then followed, having to hold the Atlas in her teeth for a moment. The blue light brightened the otherwise dark corridor, and the dusty portrait of a horse in a ruff nickered at their intrusion.

Harriet spat the Atlas back into her hand. Hugh's skull rattled against the Erkling spoon. "Right, we best be off before it gets much later. I think Slytherin puts a ward over the common room door before he goes to bed just to catch students out…."

Harriet felt a tug on her sleeve and paused to look at Luna.

"You're a good friend."

"Err…you too?"

Luna grinned, her wide, pale eyes peering at Harriet with an intensity that was honestly a bit startling. "It's nice to have a friend aside from Ginny. She's very popular. I'm not."

"Bollocks to being popular. People don't much like me either, Luna. It's not a big deal."

"You're wrong." Luna let go of her sleeve. "They talk about you sometimes, the Slytherins in my class."

Harriet couldn't have been more confused if Luna suddenly accused her of being blue and belching marshmallows. "Wh—what? What do they say? Why?"

Luna didn't answer, persuing another tangent of thought. "My House doesn't like me. Not after my first year."

Harriet suddenly remembered the diadem's image, and unease rippled in her veins, Riddle's smarmy laughter haunting her ears. "They're berks if they can't forgive you for something you couldn't control. Riddle's a monster, and you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't."

Shrugging, Luna replied, "People can't forgive what they don't understand," and though she appeared unaffected, Harriet thought Luna might be sad. That didn't sit well with her.

"Listen to me," Harriet told her, touching her shoulder. "There are a lot of tossers in the world, and they're always going to be tossers whether we like it or not. But I'm your friend, and so's Ginny—and Hermione and Elara, when they're not being prats."

"I think she's in love with Terry."

"Hermione? Probably. Makes me nauseous being around the pair of them."

Luna nodded. "Thank you, Harriet."

"What are friends for, right?"

Footsteps sounded in the dim corridor behind them, and Harriet quickly stuffed the Atlas out of sight. The slow, unmistakably adult tread started in their direction, and Harriet and Luna exchanged one final look before making a run for it.

They didn't mention their conversation again. If the third-year Ravenclaw girls kept getting their shoes hexed into ashes by some mysterious person for the next week, then Harriet didn't know anything about it.