November was a month where Scotland enjoyed being Scotland rather more than normal people enjoyed it doing so. Quidditch players were not, in fact, normal people. For Quidditch fans, cold frosty air was considered to be excellent flying weather, and cold driving sleet meant a rather hard time for seekers trying to find the elusive golden snitch, so it gave fans a rather good chance of a nice long game filled with close range battles for quaffle and in some cases lives, as players found themselves surprised by enemies both closer and faster than was strictly speaking safe.
No one had died in Hogwarts Quidditch since 1903, and opinion was divided between that being a good thing, and missing the good old days. Today was a big day for everyone, as Hufflepuff was playing Slytherin.
Slytherin were in a race with Griffindor for most championships in a row, Griffindor having set the record when James Potter and Sirius black led the squad, and Slytherin under Pucey and Flint looking to bring that title back to the green and silver where all Hogwarts glory belonged. In the way was Hufflepuff who had a very strong seeker in Cedric Diggory, frankly average chasers led by Zacharias Smith, a pair of First Year beaters in Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom, and a rather resigned Prefect Gabriel Truman who had been part of two succeeding last place Hufflepuff teams.
Harry and Nevilles first game had been against Griffindor, and the loss had been one of the most exciting things they had ever experienced. Fred and George had put their pupils through a real grinder as they showed how a truly in synch beater team could control the airspace. While Harry and Neville had managed to disrupt dozens of plays, the Griffindor chaser girls were such a well oiled machine that nearly every time a chaser was forced to pull up short, or give up the quaffle, it was another team mate that picked it up. Meanwhile Fred and George reduced Zachariah Smith to a frenzy of frustration that cost Hufflepuff a penalty shot when he made a suggestion of what George should do with his beater bat, which was both anatomically challenging, and actually directed at Fred who was willing to let George have a go as long as the bat was washed thoroughly before it was returned.
Cedric managed to catch the snitch to stop the bleeding with a 170 Hufflepuff to 210 Griffindor thrashing on the books for game one of the season. Slytherin had played a very aggressive game against Ravenclaw, resulting in several personal fouls and Marcus Flint twice catching the Ravenclaw Seeker with a bludger. Draco Malfoy caught the snitch to seal the win, as his father's gifts of new Nimbus 2000 for the whole team had given him a serious speed advantage, while Flint and Bulstrode's continued targeting of the Ravenclaw seeker had him too busy looking for bludgers to be fast as he needed to be on the snitch. The Slytherin victory 250 to 200 showed the risk and the benefit of leaving the chasers untouched to target the enemy seeker, but it had paid off handsomely.
Cedric was confident of a Hufflepuff victory, noting that if Slytherin focused their beaters on him, then the Hufflepuff chasers would have the chance they never got against Griffindor to actually put some plays together.
"Look Cedric, nothing against Potter and Longbottom, I mean we all know they won the try out, but lets face it, they are first years. Marcus Flint is a beast, only the Weasleys are stronger, so even if he's saddled with that thuggy first year bird, their beaters are going to be better at breaking up plays than our two bloody babies." Zacharias Smith sneered in a very un-Hufflepuff manner.
Cedric winced. "Zack, we talked about this. No down talk in the locker room or field. We fly together, we fight together, we win together. There is no way to get experience in competitive play except to face top teams in the air with everything on the line. You weren't exactly stellar your first season either. Or the second come to think of it." Diggory said.
Neville winced, his self-confidence already on shaky ground, when Harry stepped up and chimed in.
"Look Cedric, Zacharias is right. We can't match the Weasley's even a bit at controlling play. We have only a few practices under our belt even trying. From what Milicent says, Flint is entirely attack oriented and probably as good an attack beater as the twins are." Harry said.
"You see, even the Firsty knows he has no place here!" Zacharias Smith exclaimed.
"Stow it Zack, I will not tell you again." Diggory snapped, out of patience with his argumentative chaser lead.
Harry pressed on. "What I was saying, is that Neville and I have done nothing but defensive training all year. In fact we spend about an hour on defensive training against multiple bludgers every day we don't have regular practice. We may be pants at attacking, but we can defend."
Neville turned and shot Cedric a bright smile. "Yeah, Harry's right. I lost track of the quaffle a half dozen times last game, and never had the sense for who to attack to break the pattern until they were pretty much past me, but nobody I tried to defend got hit. Not even once."
Cedric mused. "So you want to go full defensive, even though their entire team is on Nimbus 2000 thanks to Malfoy's buying his son onto the team, and have about a quarter more top end speed and better acceleration."
Harry shrugged. "Sucking faster is still sucking. I mean, if we keep the bludgers off our chasers, I think they are at least as good as Slytherins. Can you beat Draco even if he's on a Nimbus 2000?" Harry asked.
Cedric blushed and his chin came up. "Harry, I could beat Draco if he was riding a dragon and I was on a duck. Just keep Flint from breaking anyone, and leave the rest to your seniors."
Marcus Flint was having a very frustrating game. His home life was the sort of trauma that created monsters and while he wasn't actively a monster, it was safe to say he had significant anger issues and humiliating arrogant enemy Quidditch players with delusions of competence was how he kept his internal beasts at bay. To Marcus' mind, the only way to be a beater was to step on your broom with the intent to seriously maim as many enemy players as possible, and to inspire such fear that they would shy away from quaffle, snitch or goal post at the shadow of your broom out of learned terror of the pain your arrival so frequently portended.
Milicent was weak! She was a girl. Granted she was a physical beast for a first year, with shoulders like Crabbe or Goyle, but all muscle and none of their fat. Worse, she had speed and the sort of instinct for weakness that should have made her someone he could mold into simply another weapon to wield. Instead, she bought into that Weasley bullshit about defending being as important as attack. Frankly, if some of his team mates got broken, or fell out of the sky, they should have been paying more attention and could be replaced with someone more worthy! This was Slytherin not a bloody daycare!
Then there was Malfoy. Daddy bought him on the team with Nimbus 2000. Granted, they flew rings around Ravenclaw and the speed bonus offset the skill gap and gave Flint the chance to really draw some blood with his bludgers. His broom already gave him the edge on speed, but after a few close calls and one injury, that bonus doubled as the so called Ravenclaw Eagles proved they were just fat pigeons waiting to be snake food. They hesitated out of fear, and the advantage shifted totally to Marcus. Honestly, a decent seeker would have used the Nimbus advantage over the old Clean Sweep 7 to win early, but Flint was happy enough with the long drawn out game and the havoc he was allowed to wreck if only that little idiot Milicent didn't spend half her time keeping Malfoy alive when the little git missed that seekers were bloody targets in the sky and you had to watch for more than just the little glory seeker snitch. If she let the little git get murdered, he would have his broom, and they could get a real seeker.
No Marcus Flint was not happy, and he could neither pound Bulstrode nor Malfoy or face the wrath of Adrian Pucey (he didn't have enemies. Don't ask where they went). He could take it out on the little baby beaters of Hufflepuff, and on that pretty boy Diggory. Heroic chin and blond hair, bugger had half the Slytherin girls taking pictures of him, making very odd remarks about what it would be like to ride his broom. Today there would be payback. Plus, crush Hufflepuff and they were on their way to another Quidditch cup, and the stupid Griffindor record.
Hermione and Noodle were sitting in the stands, Hermione was cheering, and Noodle was attempting to make Quidditch fit into his understanding of the universe.
The Hufflepuff chasers got the quaffle and headed downfield towards the Slytherin goals. The Slytherin chaser dove to block Zacharius Smith, forcing the Hufflepuff chaser to pop up to avoid him, only to find Marcus Flint ready, blasting a bludger in a line drive to intersect Smith's rise. In a blind panic, Smith dropped the quaffle and pulled his broom into a pure vertical which would not have got him clear of the bludger strike. He heard the sharp crack of a bludger impact, but didn't feel the pain. He opened his closed eyes to see the back of Potter's head as the boy blasted the bludger back towards the Hufflepuff end, where Neville in turn redirected it at the Slytherin chaser who had picked up the quaffle he had dropped in panic and was halfway to the Hufflepuff goals.
Milicent blocked the bludger strike at her chaser's back with a matching grin, only to see two converging Hufflepuff chasers perform a classic pop and go, as one drove into the Slytherin chaser, punching the ball free with a lunging arm, right into the arms of the Hufflepuff seeker on a converging course.
Hufflepuff scored as the play caught all the Slytherin chasers and beaters going the wrong way.
As the game progressed, control of the bludgers was more and more taken up by only three beaters, but in Hufflepuff's favour, they owned two of them. Marcus Flint was experienced, aggressive, strong, and fast, but it seemed like the three first years shared a single brain, and it worked faster than anyone else.
Marcus saw the Griffindor game before Halloween, and Potter and Longbottom were decent but not great. Not as fast and no where near as strong as the Weasleys. Flint was older, heavier, and should have been stronger. He was on a broom a lot newer and faster than theirs, by any metric, they should not be able to keep up with him.
Since Samhain, something had changed. He took a line drive from Longbottom and rather than slamming it back down the little punk's throat, it was all he could do to fend the damned thing off. It hit like a charging bull, with power he would have expected from someone twice Longbottom's mass and age.
Potter seemed to have eyes in the back of his head and could place the bludgers like he was controlling them with a wand. Bulstrode was a girl, he outweighed her by at least twenty pounds, and yet when she hit the bludger at Diggory, it was moving so fast Flint couldn't even see it, yet Potter not only saw it, the skinny little git blocked it straight up so he had all the time in the world to pick a target to direct it at when it came down. This was not POSSIBLE. They were too fast, too strong. Worse, they were grinning like this was all a great game and not a dominance demonstration, a struggle of blood, pain and fear where the most brutal beat the lesser into submission and obedience.
Longbottom took Flint's power strike at Smith who once again had the quaffle, and casually backhanded it into the path of the diving Slytherin chaser, causing him to pull up and miss his block, allowing the Hufflepuff chaser to draw out the keeper, and casually toss the quaffle to the Hufflepuff chaser following for an unopposed goal.
Flint chased bludgers across the sky, only to find Bulstrode, Potter, and Longbottom there first. Hufflepuffs were pulling ahead slowly, as their chasers learned to trust that the bludgers would never reach them, they got more aggressive and their teamwork was everything the badgers were known for. Free of concern for the Slytherin bludgers, they swarmed the quaffle and control of the game switched inexorably to the Hufflepuffs.
Hermione gave a running commentary of the game to Noodle, in cheerful unconcern the snake could not speak English. She thought he looked adorable in is knit Hufflepuff sock, as his head stuck out from the neck of her robes to watch the game in the sky.
"$ So, if this is one of your mammal herd dominance rituals, I take it that Water Witch is battling Root Singer and Speaker for the right to care for you. I do not think it is fair Speaker and Root Singer are battling Water Witch together. If it needs two of them to beat her, neither deserves you. $" Noodle hissed.
Hermione stopped talking in shock. She had understood.
"$ Noodle, can you understand me now?$" Hermione hissed in confusion, unaware that she had not, in fact, been speaking English the entire game.
"$ Mouse Giver, I have always understood proper speech. It is that only Speaker could understand it. He bound me to your blood, just like Slytherin bound the King of Snakes to his blood, so that all his heirs could speak like true beings, not chittering monkeys. $" Noodle concluded.
"$ Now, the little sneering prey creature has spotted the little golden winged thing that I would very much like to eat, but the bigger one that Water Witch says has a 'nice ass' is in better position. Will whichever one catches the little ball with wings get to eat it? Otherwise, I don't see the point. Water Witch, Speaker and Root Singer are clearly fighting for you, so the golden winged treat must be the 'consolation prize' Speaker often jokes about. Is it worth eating, should I bite the winner and take it for myself?$ " Noodle asked, moving on to important matters.
Hermione clutched Noodle in her hands, hugging him in her excitement.
"$ Noodle, you can't teach Parsletongue, its a magical language. There is no way I can speak it. $" Hermione objected.
"$ Pay attention Mouse Giver. The bonding put me in your head, You do not have to speak true language. I speak it. You no longer have to chitter like a monkey, unless you are ordering me food, in which case you should continue to speak it, as I cannot make other monkeys understand. Now, that little golden thing, I think one of the monkeys on brooms is about to catch it. Is it tasty? Should I bite him for it? If it isn't that tasty, I could always leave it for Night Pigeon. That would make Root Singer happy. $" Noodle brought the subject back to the main point, was the golden snitch edible.
Hermione decided that the large number of very serious questions that had just arisen should be deferred before Noodle murdered Draco Malfoy or Cedric Diggory in front of a stadium of Quidditch fans just to find out the golden snitch was made of metal.
"$ The golden ball is called the golden snitch and when it is caught the game is over. It is made of real gold and a lot of serious enchantments. It is not edible, so please do not kill the heir of the chief of Hogwarts board of governors in front of the students and staff of Hogwarts. Also, don't kill Cedric Diggory, that is the one with the nice bum, because we like him and he a good person. $"
"$ For the record, they are not battling for my hand, they are fighting for the Quidditch cup, which you also can't eat. $" Hermione stated, needing to clear at least that misunderstanding up right away.
Noodle turned and looked at her in shock and horror.
"$ Hunting so far from the ground, in the cold, for something you can't even eat? You are right Mouse Giver. You cannot mate with any of them. They are clearly more defective than I thought. Have no fear. Mother had to bite at least a dozen suitors before she found father amusing enough to let live. You should not settle for anyone silly enough to leave you alone to play with each other's balls! $" Noodle intoned seriously and Hermione dissolved into giggles.
Marcus Flint saw Diggory dive for the snitch. He was far out of position, as the snitch went right past Draco Malfoy, but Diggory was racing for it and building up speed before Malfoy was even aware. Diggory blasted past Malfoy, causing the overbred idiot to at least remember he was a seeker and chase after him.
Diggory was focused on the snitch, but Milicent Bulstrode was closing on a bludger with her head snapping between it and Diggory in clear calculation for a strike that would either hit or at least force Diggory to pull up short.
He put his all into climbing straight up, knowing Potter would have to block upwards from the angle he was closing to protect Diggory. What Potter could not see was that the remaining bludger was closing on Diggory from the other side, and Cedric would be forced to pop up on his own to avoid the second left hand bludger even if Potter got the one coming from the right.
Marcus would be able to hammer it straight down onto Diggory, and if Malfoy couldn't win the race without any opposition, Flint would ram his Nimbus 2000 where even Malfoy couldn't pay someone to pull it out.
Neville saw the second bludger and raced to close as quickly as he could, but he would not be in time to stop it. Neville was charging from in front, the snitch was headed almost directly towards him, with Cedric, Malfoy, Harry, and Flint converging on various angles behind. There wasn't anything he could do from up front.
Harry saw Neville charging in from the front, and he let his sense of the air fill him. He could feel it, everything that moved in the air was part of the song. He saw the moves that each player would make like a dozen games of wizards chess being played side by side before him. He saw Marcus move, and knew it would hit Cedric. Not good enough. He saw Malfoys' move, he would dive through the space Diggory dodged and be ahead, on a broom with better acceleration, in a straight line. Draco, snitch, Longbottom.
Longbottom? Neville's move was clear. He was charging straight at the snitch, bat raised, looking not at Malfoy, but the snitch itself. That was impossible. Harry let his sense of the air fill him. For Neville to hit the bludger to hit the snitch to send it here, I need the bludger to be there...
Harry twisted off his broom, leaving it in mid flight. He twisted his body through almost a full circle, striking the bludger not straight up, but directly at Neville Longbottom with all the force his charging broom and twisting body could muster.
Neville could never have reacted in time, but he didn't have to. They had been running these bludger drills every day for months. He was already in his swing when the bludger blasted towards him at a combined speed that would have replaced 1903 as the last Quidditch death at Hogwarts if it hit his flesh and not his bat.
The bat shattered, and Neville took a splinter through the cheek, but the bludger blasted backwards like a billiard ball, chipping the golden snitch backwards in an out of control tumble directly past Draco Malfoy who cried out in fright and ducked. Cedric Diggory saw the tumbling snitch arc up from the bludger impact, past Malfoys head, and he urged his Clean Sweep into a tight turn and rise, his outstretched hand bruising even through heavy dragon hide gloves as the snitch hit his palm like a muggle bullet. The force nearly ripped him from his broom, but years of seeker training had his whole body clamping to the broom, and letting his back and shoulders absorb the massive shock of his arm attempting to accelerate away in the opposite direction of his body's travel.
Harry was in freefall, his broom was going rather the wrong way, and without a rider beginning a controlled fall on its own. Harry understood that he should be able to use wind magic to slow his fall, and rather thought spending some time figuring out how to do so should be something he worked on in future. At present, he was moving towards the ground at speeds that were becoming alarming.
He just got out of the medical wing. If Madame Pomfrey sent another message home to Gringotts telling his father and mother that he jumped off his broom fifty meters in the air because he wanted to hit a ball at Neville really hard, he isn't sure he would object to their bringing him home as too stupid to be allowed above ground without his mother's supervision.
The impact, when it came, was both as violent as he expected, and not at all from the direction he expected.
Milicent Bulstrode had time to decide that Hufflepuffs were bad for the brain. She had time to see Harry pull something absolutely Griffindorishly stupid, jumping off his broom to make the shot. She even had time to appreciate, on a pure ascetic level that Neville's bludger deflection of the snitch was quite the most beautiful bit of beating she had ever seen, but she was already in the middle of the dive toward Harry bloody Potter the great diving idiot when Diggory caught the snitch and ended the game.
She was about five feet away when her body decided to raise the issue with her brain that in order to catch Potter short of the ground, she was moving approximately bludger speed and about to impact a falling and rather solid Potter.
Letting her bat trail from her wrist straps, she leaned forward and tackled the falling Potter with an impact that stole her breath, his breath, and any attempt at control. Luckily the Nimbus 2000 had some of the best automated landing systems, because while she was able to get them down to about ten meters from the ground before the tumbling spin finally tossed the imbalanced pair off the broom, their speed had come down from wildly insane to moderately stupid, and they tumbled across the ground in loose limbed dance that looked rather worse than it was.
He broke a leg and her two ribs and an arm, only the left arm from the landing, but since everyone who saw them impact mid air and tumble to earth assumed they were dead, it was a remarkably good result.
Harry checked his teeth with his tongue. Yes. I have teeth. I have tongue. I am not dead. I can breathe. How remarkably unexpected.
"Hey Milicent, thanks for the save." Harry gasped out, forcing his lungs to do the breath in and out thing against significant protest.
"Fuck you Potter. I will have to explain this to Snape, and even I can't think of a lie that doesn't' sound stupid. How did you get into Hufflepuff with Griffindorish stupidity like that in you?" Milicent cursed as Madame Pomfrey reached them from the side of the field and began clucking at them both disapprovingly.
"Yeah well, that was a pretty Hufflepuff save there Mils. Thanks." Potter said, trying a laugh, and quickly regretting it.
Bullstrode was fumbling at her wrist. Madame Pomfrey grabbed her broken left hand and made her stop aggravating it by moving.
"What do you need dear, tell me and I will get it for you. It is very important you keep your left still until I reset the bone." Madame Pomfrey asked.
The two Quidditch teams had settled onto the pitch beside the downed players as Milicent Bulstrode uttered the line that would go around the school until the Yule break.
"Give me my bat Madame Pomfrey. I am going to beat the stupid out of that Hufflepuff. If he dies, he dies!" Milicent Bulstrode shouted.
Adrian Pucey who had been arguing with Marcus Flint about the un Slytherin action of Bulstrode broke into a laugh and settled the issue for his house.
"I don't know Flinty. She sounds pretty Slytherin to me." Pucey smirked.
"Heal up Bulstrode. Decent beating out there. If Malfoy would have been as willing to take a hit he would have caught the damned snitch and not dodged it. Loss isn't on you." He said, turning to face Draco to make sure he got the message.
Draco's humiliation was public, and for a Malfoy, that was a fate worse than death. Malfoys could die, but it should be to poison, spell or blade, not embarrassment. Some things were certainly not to be tolerated. He would have his revenge.
Harry, Hermione, Neville and Bulstrode sat at the Slytherin table, watching Noodle and Hedwig spar for bits of chicken. Between the magical Rock Viper that had three goblin silver runes woven into its flesh in what was clearly some form of forbidden dark ritual, and three chatty Hufflepuffs, the entire rest of the Slytherin house was gathered at the senior year end of the table, granting them their privacy out of something like horror.
"I still don't see why we couldn't do this at the Hufflepuff table. There are three of us, and no one is going to treat us like we have the dragon-pox just because we are having dinner together on a Saturday." Hermione said, as she watched Neville and Milicent having a battle to see who could consume the most food without breaking perfect pure blood table manners.
"$ Four of us are from Hufflepuff. I know Speaker may not be bright enough to stay on his broom, but he is still one of us! $" Hissed Noodle, alarmed that someone was excluding his Speaker, even if the boy was proving less sensible than the average mammal.
"$ I think she was only counting the student Hufflepuffs, not the adult supervisory reptile, Noodle. $" Milicent hissed, then switched back to English.
"See, now this is why we can't eat at Hufflepuff. I should't be able to speak Parletongue, and Noodle shouldn't understand English. That is not how any of this works. My Slytherins are all sensibly off at the other end of the table praying you don't get badger fur in the canapes, whereas if we were at the Hufflepuff table, someone would have tried to hug me by now and everyone would have noticed that all four of us seem to speak Parseltongue and nobody needs to translate English for Noodle anymore. Are we ready to talk about the changes since Halloween?" Milicent asked quietly.
Harry started. "It's not a big thing, but my air sense is even better, and I'm starting to find that when I do any transfiguration or charms based on air, they all kind of just work better. When we got bonded, I got Anzus as my new rune, and I think its making me think a little differently. Like, when we play Quidditch, it is kind of like I see all the moves everyone has to make, and get to play out in my head how each of the tactics go and sort of pick my own accordingly. "
Neville sighed, then said softly. "I got Jera, which Professor Babbling says is the harvest rune, but it's like cycles. I see how things are supposed to grow, decay, die. I mean, I used to be terrible at potions, but now it is like I don't just see how things come together or judge when to add stuff, or take it off the heat, I can kind of nudge it a bit. Then there is the other thing." Neville said breaking off in a whisper.
Harry piped up. "Yeah, we were doing a run in the Forbidden Forest just to get out of the wind, and we got jumped by an Acromantula. Bit of a shock actually. Neville here just kind of waved his wand and this great bloody scythe appeared, and suddenly we had two half Acromantula, which, while deeply disturbing, is a lot less threatening."
Milicent shrugged. "Also harvesting, and I hate spiders so no big deal. Maybe don't duel anyone until you figure out what makes that happen, but good to know you have it in a pinch right?"
Hermione turned to her and asked. "What about you Milicent. You got Issa, which is the ice rune, not Laguz which is the flow rune I would have expected for someone Noodles called Water Witch."
Milicent smiled. "Snape has actually started talking to me about my development as a potioner. Issa is ice alright, but it is more than that. Issa is stasis, stillness, mental clarity. I can slow and stop changes in things. In a potion, I'm kind of like the opposite of Neville, I can delay things happening, or keep them from happening too strongly. It lets me take all kinds of risks because I can either keep things from getting out of control at all, or slow the release down so it isn't dangerous."
She smiled. "It's a good thing I am honest, because it turns out I can also slow down the flow of energy in rune constructs. I was able to shut off the alarm on Filches office and steal back the romance novel he took away when he caught me reading by the greenhouse."
Hermione frowned. "That can't be all you can do though, I mean, it is the ice rune."
Milicent ran her fingers through her hair and looked down at the table. "Alright fine. Part of the reason that the other Slytherins are sitting at that end of the table and leaving us alone is that Pansy Parkinson got a little bent out of shape that I saved Harry after he and Neville made Draco look like a wimp and loser in the Quidditch match.
She, Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis cornered me in the girls' shower when I didn't have my wand. They brought theirs into the shower and I kind of panicked."
Hermione, remembering the first rule of Slytherin girls about never going to the bathroom alone grabbed her arm and cried out. "Oh my god, were you okay? What happened?"
Milicent grinned. "Let's just say Daphne came very close to being the true Ice Queen of Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson almost froze her nipples off, and Tracy Davis had to beg Snape for a hair growth potion after her frozen hair cracked and fell off.
I was able to make sure nobody was seriously harmed." Milicent said, but her eyes grew haunted.
"For a few seconds though, I was afraid I killed them." She grimaced.
"$ That is it. You will be bringing me to shower every day. I cannot allow you to be around these uncivilized beings when you do not have your wand. $" Noodle hissed angrily.
"$ Thank you Noodle, but it would be a problem trying to smuggle you in the common room every day, and I can't have Hufflepuffs bringing you in. $" Milicent said softly, trying not to get misty eyed about an overprotective snake.
"$ Don't be silly. I can let myself in and out. You have not noticed all the doors in Slytherin open to his tongue? Not even the Death Eating Crow can seal his office against you if you tell it to open in Salazar Slytherin's tongue." Noodle said smugly. "Ask any snake on the Slytherin common room wall, they will tell you the same.$"
Hermione sighed. "Wonderful, we have the key to every lock in Slytherin, but three out of four of us who are not snakes are stuck locked up in Hufflepuff whenever something goes wrong. We really have to do something about that."
Milicent got her back on topic. "Alright Hermione, you were the first one to figure out you were an elemental, you had your fire under control before you even got here. Now that you have gotten your Kenaz rune, what can you actually do with it?"
Hermione blushed. "Professor Babbling gave me a huge book about it. Runes are so much more than people give them credit for. I mean, no wonder everyone gives their gold to the goblins to guard. They may not have much magic beyond runes, but they put literally all their scholarship into them. Wizards just can't be bothered to do things the hard way with runes when you can just wave a wand and get similar results."
All the humans and one snake sighed. Hermione would never understand lesser being who thought that anything you gained through hours of laborious study was better than something you could just half ass with a flick of the wand and do something almost as good. The fact that she was right just made the rest of them more exasperated not less.
"Kenaz means the torch, it is the rune of fire, but also the rune of communication and vitality. Fire is in everything. Fire is in our blood, literally. Our whole breathing and digesting thing is just fire slowed down and made to stay controlled. Fire is the flow of magic in everything, fire is what connects all magic and life." Hermione gushed.
When everyone looked back at her with a total lack of understanding she sighed and dumbed it down.
"I can make enchantments that are conditional forget their conditions and just get on with happening. I can make things that used to share either life or fire remember they were connected and share what happens to them. Plus, I decide when fire will burn me, and if I really want to, if fire will burn anyone else. If I want it to badly enough, my fire can't be stopped from burning at all."
Harry shuddered. "Only you would spend forever telling us ten thousand obscure things you can make fire do, then casually end with, oh and I can burn the world down if I'm seriously miffed."
"$ Mouse Giver wouldn't burn the parts of the world I was in, so if you stay nice to me, you will most probably still live. $" Noodle offered by way of sympathy.
Milicent burst out laughing, then stopped at everyone else's horrified looks. She shrugged, snagged a bun and buttered it. "I suppose you have to either be a Slytherin or snake to get the joke. Seriously though, until we have a handle on it, we should probably limit any of the dueling to Hermione or Harry. Neville and I might do something a bit permanent if we got seriously surprised."
Harry thought that through for a second. "Yeah, that's fair. Why would we be dueling anyway?"
"Oh, Draco has decided you humiliated him on purpose. Snape has made it clear that since I have become a budding Slytherin potions prodigy, no one is to attack me. That leaves the rest of you as direct targets, but being Slytherin, if he can maneuver me into a position where I just happen to get hurt while he is going after legitimate Hufflepuff targets, then I become a regrettable incident and reason for him to kiss ass a little harder for a few months." Milicent said seriously.
Neville smirked. "Malfoy is so good at kissing ass he might just attack you to see if he can raise his ass kissing skills any higher as a personal challenge. That is fine. We only have to avoid him until we go home at Yule."
Hermione frowned. "We can't go home at Yule. I missed Samhain, and Yule is our first chance to do real ritual magic together. Besides, we still haven't' figured out of Snape or Quirrell is the one going after the Philosopher Stone for Voldemort."
Milicent slammed her hand down on the table. "You cannot be thinking about going home for Yule. For Merlin's sake Longbottom, will dear old Uncle Algie be there at Yule too?"
Neville winced and looked down at his plate. "Um, yeah, Gran says the whole family."
Harry's eyes went wide. "Morgana's tits Neville, this guy poisoned you for years, tried to drown you, then dropped you head first out a bloody window. You can't go home alone, and your family didn't invite us."
Hermione grabbed Neville's hand gently. "I know you love your family and you don't like confrontations, but your Uncle Algie is an enemy. He is really good at making it look like he isn't attacking you, and you are pretty easy to manipulate in social situations. He is going to be able to let him close enough to threaten you again, and he works for the Department of Mysteries so there is no telling exactly what magic he has available to use against you. You just aren't' ready to be home alone with him."
Neville sighed and looked at his friends. "All right, so I guess it's all of us here for Yule. That means we have to stay out of Draco's way, and find out who is trying to steal the stone for Voldemort. How tough can it be?"
Draco eyed the group at the end of the Slytherin bench. His moment of triumph had been ruined by the dirty little mudblood bitch Bulstrode, that blood traitor Longbottom, and that mudblood embarrassment to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter.
They had protection for now, but he was a Malfoy. He had months to work out their downfall, and anticipation would only make it sweeter.
Albus Dumbledore was quite happy. Harry Potter was finally showing the sort of Griffindor courage that was required. With his friends to protect, surely it would be possible to convince him to be Hufflepuff enough to put their lives first. If Harry could not be convinced to be the champion his father's blood should have made him yearn to be, he could at least be convinced to sacrifice himself for those he loved like his mother did.
What he needed, was a little insight into what motivated the boy. Perhaps a chat over Christmas? Now that the pureblooded Pagan Yule rituals were forbidden and the Muggle Christmas celebrated instead, the Christmas break was pretty empty of activity. Since young Harry had put in a request along with his friends to stay for Christmas, he should be able to find time to catch him alone for a good chat, and a little quiet Legimancy, to get a better handle on how to motivate him.
Voldemort was close, knowing he had deceived Dumbledore, knowing all he faced for opposition was a lone first year boy, not even raised as a wizard. Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Dark Lord Voldemort, would never credit a child as being a threat to his plans. He had seen Harry bleeding and broken several times already this year. Surely, any fears of Harry being somehow invulnerable should be dispelled.
Tom would drag Harry before the mirror, and both fractured souls would be claimed by the Mirror of Erised. No one would ever know that Voldemort fell to the superior strategy of Dumbledore, Champion of the Light. No. Let the people believe in the prophesy, in the miracle of love and the Boy Who Lived. If Harry had to die, let him at least be remembered as the saviour of wizarding Britain.
Harry, Neville, and Milicent finished their usual somewhat punishing basic beater workout and joined Hermione and Noodle where they relaxed in Hagrid's hut where it was warm and nothing was willing to risk Noodle to try and eat you.
"I still think we should pick a different route, those Acromantula keep going for Neville." Milicent complained opening the door to Hagrid's hut.
"I don't think you are fully accepting the training potential of jumping Acromantula as a training aid, they are much less predictable than bludgers. Good training that is." Argued Harry.
"Too right. Bludgers don't drop down from the shadows above your head, spring from trap doors hidden in the ground, shoot webs fifty meters to try to catch you, or jump like someone shot a carnivorous eight legged cow from a catapult in a mad attempt to eat you." Neville argued.
"Ere now, Aragog's kids can be a little playful, but they ne'er ate anyone!" Hagrid argued.
"That is true," Milicent mused. "They don't actually eat you at all. Just paralyze you, drag you up into the tree and wrap you like a cabbage roll. Then they inject their venom into you, and you slowly dissolve inside over a period of weeks. They tap you like box wine at a stich-and-bitch until you run dry and they bin you with the recycling. Not sure what in this forest eats what's left, but you sure don't see anything left behind. Avid recycler your Forbidden Forest." Milicent said in a very Slytherin sort of satisfaction.
Hagrid puffed out his chest and defended his friend. "I've known Aragog since I could hold him in my hand. He won't never hurt no-one. I've met his kids a thousand times and none of them ever really seriously bit me. Maybe nip a time or two, but nobody meant nothin by it!" Hagrid insisted.
Hermione rolled her eyes, knowing sweet gentle Hagrid could never conceive of the fact the Acromantula were terrified of Hagrid because their best paralyzing bites were utterly ignored, and he brushed aside their strongest trap webs the same way he did leaves, without even noticing that they were intended to trap and hold anything wizard, centaur, or stag, stupid enough to touch it.
Hagrid saw the best in people. Even when it wasn't there.
Harry saw a caldron sitting on the fire and froze in panic.
"Hagrid, you aren't making us breakfast, are you?" Harry said, every ounce of willpower keeping the rising fear from his voice.
"I'm sorry Harry, I can put on some rock cakes if you need a kip, or we could head out to the Great Hall, I'm sure the 'ouse elves 'ave some scones or such out for early birds like you. I am not cooking per se, I just 'ave an egg on the fire. Health reasons." Hagrid said sadly, as if ashamed he couldn't feed his visitors properly.
Harry looked relieved that Hagrid was not going to pass what he called food onto them again. As a half giant, what he could enjoy digesting strayed so far from what anything mammalian could digest that most trolls would think twice before consuming.
Hermione kicked him and eyed the pot with an arched eyebrow, but Harry was content to let sleeping Hagrid food lie. She was their designated scholar, but as muggle raised was sometimes alarmed by things wizard and goblin raised folk knew were at least normal adjacent.
They passed through the heavy woods between Hagrid's hut and Hogwarts continuing their discussion, pausing only for Harry to turn and wave at a perfectly normal bush that was refusing to move with the wind, and seemed to breathe normally until spoken to.
"Morning Draco!" Harry said cheerfully, noting that Draco was hiding under the illusion of a bush in the light November rain, spying on their morning workout. If he wanted Quidditch secrets, he should think about doing a workout rather than watching it, but Draco was Draco.
"Nice bush Malfoy." Milicent sneered in Slytherin. "Glad to see you aren't manscaping. The way you always seemed to be stuck between Crabbe and Goyle had a lot of the Slytherin girls if you weren't thinking of flying for the other team."
The bush that totally was not admitting it was Draco Malfoy began to swear at Milicent and suggest any number of anatomical acts which were highly improbable without extensive yoga and some space enhancing magics. It did SOUND suspiciously like Draco Malfoy more than a random talking bush would, even this close to the Forbidden Forest.
Hermione glared at Milicent, as she was stuck trying to give a PG rated explanation to the various expressions of male sexuality, not helped by Milicent tossing in words like twink, bear, and spit roast which Hermione felt were unhelpful and which Harry just had to know how they applied to Malfoy.
It is thus largely Draco's fault that Hermione never got around to telling the three beaters of her fears that the egg in Hagrid's cauldron was a real problem.
The four of them were ensconced in the library, doing research on Snape and Quirrell, trying to determine which of them was more likely to be Voldemort's pawn and which Dumbledore's.
Snape clearly had the tie in to being a Death Eater, if you read between the lines of the heavily redacted Ministry trial transcripts available to NEWT level students in History and Law, which had Harry and Hermione arguing he was the bad guy. Highly placed members of the ICW and Wizangamot had insisted Snape was working on their behalf and whoever the unnamed source was, the Ministry simply rolled over and accepted it. For Neville and Milicent, this screamed DUMBLEDORE at the top of its silent lungs, and argued Snape was Dumbledore's pawn.
Quirrel's record was clean. He was a well thought of student and Ravenclaw prefect at Hogwarts. Good but not outstanding OWLS and NEWTS, including Defense Against the Dark Arts, but honestly more heavily in Ancient Runes and Magical Theory. He came back from a trip to Romania suddenly driven to apply fora post as the DADA instructor, and with a letter of recommendation from no lesser a person than Lucius Malfoy, head of the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Quirrel had been a student during the war, and not even a Slytherin so no ties to know death eaters prior to Lucius Malfoy (totally reformed, and the Imperius made me do it, former Death Eater). Harry and Neville thought he was clean, Hermione and Milicent both thought he was obviously Voldemorts agent.
Harry was growing bored with the discussion when he looked up to note a small elephant trying to squeeze its way between Hogwarts library shelves sneakily. Since sneaky elephants in the library have got to be more interesting than another round of "spot the dark lord", Harry got up to investigate.
"Hagrid?" Harry said in honest surprise as the elephant sized shadow squeezed out from between the shelves of the Care of Magical Creatures section.
"I wouldn't have thought there was a lot you didn't already know about Care of Magical Creatures." Harry noted, then glanced again at the title of the book he was trying to hide.
"Care and feeding of Newborn Dragons" Harry read. "Yeah, that's a good one. The Goblin Dragon keepers have that one in the original English and their own Gobblygook translation as required reading for all the keepers." Harry said, not unduly alarmed.
Hermione slammed her textbook down, an act so outrageous for Hermione that even Hagrid froze in shock.
"Dragon! Hagrid, please tell me you haven't got a dragon egg on the boil in your cauldron in your entirely wooden hut in the entirely flammable forest?" Hermione demanded.
"Er, no?" Hagrid offered, a denial no one believed.
"What's the big deal? Gringotts keeps goblins. Fred and George Weasley has a brother Charlie who works at a dragon shelter in Romania." Harry said, flopping back down into his chair.
Milicent hit Harry with her own textbook, as Neville sputtered into outrage.
"The big deal? The big deal? Harry, since the Statue of Secrecy keeping Dragons is a felony punishable by ten years at Azkaban. Dragons can wipe out whole villages, and muggle cities are kind of hard to make them ignore when one of them goes up in flames to a giant bulletproof lizard. The Japanese Ministry had to make a whole series of movies to conceal when their Hiroshima sanctuary wards kept having problems even decades after some muggle thingy in the Grindewald War. Damned things kept trying to eat Tokyo between 1954-56, and the muggles really were upset." Neville was in a full rant now, because his Goblin friend seemed to be ignorant of the fact he was in fact, a wizard, and that the Ministry really would punish him as one, if he got caught aiding and abetting illegal dragon breeding.
Hermione blinked. "Godzilla? Godzilla was real?"
Neville blinked in return. "How did you know the name of the Japanese Dragon sanctuary?"
Milicent could sense the danger of conversation derailment and got them back on track.
"Focus people!" Milicent snapped. "Hagrid, my fuzzy trusting friend. Am I correct in assuming that you somehow managed to get ahold of the second most magically controlled magical reptile in all of Europe through some sort of utterly innocent, but at the same time utterly dodgy way?"
"I don't know what you are talking about." Hagrid said, eyes shifting uncomfortably.
Milicent massaged her forehead, feeling a Griffindor headache coming on.
"Please tell me at least this is a dragon not a bloody basilisk." Milicent pleaded.
Hagrid looked offended. "Well or course it's a dragon! I have it on the fire don't I? Yer basilisk egg needs cool, dark and damp. And I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that. Not the basilisk part, I don't have one of those. Dangerous things yer basilisks."
Hermione sighed and sank into her chair in despair. "But you do have a dragon. Hagrid, those things are more illegal than human body parts. You don't just happen to come across them as an Easter give away at Florish and Blotts. How did you get it?"
"Won it off this fellah down the pub. We was playing cards after dinner. On him it was, the drinks too. He were a terrible gambler, why I don't think he won a hand all night, but he didn't seem to mind at all. Just laughed and talked about the trade. Right interested in Fluffy he was."
Harry was growing alarming now, sensing the trap Hagrid had fallen into, again.
"He was interested in Fluffy?" Harry asked.
Hagrid puffed angrily. "Of course he were interested in Fluffy! How often do you encounter a three headed dog, even in the trade? He was right interested of course. He was very big on how dangerous and uncontrollable they are, and they do have that reputation. I told him though, Fluff he's a good boy. You play him a tune, and he goes right to sleep like the big baby he is!" Hagrid beamed, happy to again have overcome the prejudice against perfectly innocent beasts just because the Ministry calls them dangerous.
"HAGRID!" The four students shouted.
Milicent began to bang her head slowly against the table.
"Griffindors. Bloody Griffindors. Hagrid, the Cerebos, the great three headed magical guardian dog that Dumbledore had you prepare to guard the "you know what" from "you know who" you just blurted so some bloke in the bar how to put it to sleep and open the pathway FOR "you know who" to "you know what!" " Milicent said, banging her head in time with each layer of stupid she described.
Hagrid's eyes went wide. "I shouldn't have said that!"
Hermione had already skipped from the future end of the world to imminent end of Dumbledore and Hogwarts ability to keep Voldemort's agent from doing whatever he wanted.
"So the presumed agent of Voldemort," Hermione spoke, quite enjoying Hagrid's wince as it showed she had his undivided attention. "just happens to buy you drinks all night, pump you for everything you know about all the defenses Dumbledore has put on Nicholas Flamel's hot potato, then manages to lose a Dragon egg to you at cards." Hermione said, checking her facts.
"Yes, but it sounds all bad when you say it like that!" Hagrid protested.
"Play a lot of cards do you?" Harry asked, smiling sweetly.
"Yer, I bit I guess." Hagrid asked.
"Win usually, do you?" Harry asked.
Hagrid blushed and mumbled softly in his beard. "Not usually, no."
"So the agent of the Dark Lord buys you drinks all night, gets all your secrets from you without any struggle at all, and just happens to lose an automatic sentence to Azkaban Dragon Egg to Dumbledor's known agent, and you think it is because he thought you would be able to keep a sixty foot fire breathing lizard safe in a log cabin two hundred meters from a school full of bored and nosey children?"
Milicent asked, also smiling sweetly.
"Er, maybe not?" Asked Hagrid, beginning to sweat as memories of his last Azkaban stay from the 1950's after his expulsion during the Chamber of Secrets debacle began to rear their ugly heads in his usually untroubled mind.
"Bingo! Give the Griffindor a wand!" Milicent cheered, glad Hagrid finally realized exactly the trouble he, and by extension Dumbledore and Hogwarts was currently in. She did not notice Hagrid wincing at the reference to the wand he had broken after his expulsion. The children could not know, but the fact that he was in danger of the same fate a second time made the giant feel suddenly very small, and very vulnerable.
Hermione patted his hand, and told Hagrid.
"Leave it with us Hagrid. Talk to no one else. Do nothing else. Do not leave your hut unless you are working or headed into the forest. I will have elves take you your meals. You are one 'shouldn't have said that' from Azkaban and You Know Who wants to bring Dumbledore down in the same stroke. You will let us deal with this, or the next people knocking on your door will be Aurors." Hermione said.
"$ Mouse Giver is wise. If he wasn't too big to eat, I would bite him myself to keep him from getting stupider, but his hut is warm when the rest of you are practicing for the stupid hunt you can't eat anything $" Noodle said, rearing up and staring into Hagrid's eyes so he understood these were not requests, they were orders.
Hagrid did not speak snake, but he did understand direct threats to his life from all manner of non human sentient creatures. Those actually capable of killing him he truly did listen to. Hagrid nodded mutely to Noodle, left his book on the desk, and fled.
It was after dinner the next day that Fred and George were ambushed on the way to the Griffindor tower. Milicent grabbed Fred's left, and Hermione grabbed Georges right and they marched the Weasley twins into and through the Hufflepuff common room, into the testing room for Hufflepuffs who wanted to test magic that might blow up a little bit, or a lot. Safe behind some really excellent wards, they presented the intrigued but unintimidated Weasley twins to Harry and Neville who were waiting in the room already.
"Fred, George" Harry said nodding at each of them. "How would you like to work off the rather large debt you owe us for six bloody blugers and a half broken Madam Hootch during our first flying lesson?" Harry asked smiling kindly.
"He's Fred." Said George, making the reflexive correction.
"And he's George, but he can't really help it so I let it slide." Offered Fred helpfully.
"I don't care." Said Milicent, already feeling a Griffindor headache coming on. "How would you like to balance the scales for assaulting all three of us, scaring Hermione as she had to try a spell on a moving target for the first time to save Madam Hootch's life, and keeping bloody Hagrid out of bloody Azkaban you two Ginger gits!" Milicent snarled.
Fred and George both winced, a bit guilty in retrospect. They never intended anyone to actually get hurt, and admitted that was a broomstick over the line. Two blinks later, the latter part of the sentence kicked in, and something resembling a thinking adult wizard seemed to wake up from deep inside the recesses of a woefully underused shared Weasley brain.
"Wait, what's this about," Fred began.
"Hagrid going to Azkaban?" Finished George.
Harry smiled and put an arm on each twins shoulder. "Now, now, what you should be asking yourself now is how can two sneaky ginger gits who have unknown and probably illicit ways to get everywhere in the castle without Filch, Snape, or Dumbledore himself catching you, and whose brother Charlie happens to work with Dragons in Romania possibly help Hagrid, who loves all things absolutely too dangerous to be allowed near a school, stay out of Azkaban." Harry asked.
"Merlin's hairy," swore George
"Ball-sack!" finished Fred.
"The big hairy idiot's got a dragon!" They said in stereo. The very real fear washing over their faces and the way their bodies slumped made it clear they understood everything that would happen should, and with Hagrid, when, he got caught.
"Currently he has an egg, and he was given it by an agent of You Know Who, who wants to use catching Hagrid as a way to get Dumbledore out of the way." Hermione said, preferring to put all the cards on the table when making a deal.
"The bloody third floor." Said Fred
"Got past the door and the dog, but some bloody plants tried to eat me. Was planning on giving it another shot over Yule." Said George.
"Either Snape or Quirrell is working for Voldemort and using this as a trap. The other one is working for Dumbledore and using this as a trap." Offered Harry helpfully.
"And that little git Malfoy is stalking both us and Hagrid, I think just because he's a whiny little ponce." Said Neville, "But his dad was a Death Eater, and he's got zero impulse control, so it's possible he is working for either of them on purpose or just because he's an idiot." Finished Neville.
Harry looked at them both seriously. "So, knowing that getting involved in this could land you in Azkaban, or dead by a Death Eater, that is not counting expulsion, detention and defenestration from the top of Griffindor's tower, will you help us?" Harry asked.
They grinned, looked at each other.
"Little puffs!" Began Fred
"And not so little snakeys" Continued George
"The idea that school rules, law enforcement, painful death," listed Fred
"Imprisonment, dementors, howlers from mom, expulsion, execution, fear,' listed George
"Or good sense" they continued in stereo
"Could ever stop us is just silly." The continued forever.
"We're all in. Give us a day or two to owl Charlie. We will be stalking you to see who else is stalking you and find a way to get the egg to Romania, Hagrid out of hock, and make everyone chasing you look like right amateur idiots!" They said together, each shaking one of Harry's hands.
Hermione tried being the voice of reason, wanting their help, but not wanting them killed.
"This isn't Filch, we are talking about going up against Voldemort! Or at least his chosen agents." Hermione spoke very sternly in her best attempt at an adult voice from a twelve year old who was mostly curls and cute by volume.
Fred rose up and did his best Snape impression.
"Voldemort, ha! He doesn't even have a cat!" Fred said, turning to George and sharing a nod, as if this made total sense.
Milicent just massaged her head and muttered "Griffindors."
Noodle hissed laughter as the Weasley twins linked arms and danced out of the warded room, through the Hufflepuff common room, and off to the Griffindor tower singing "Pour O Pour the Pirate Sherry" from Pirates of Penzance.
"And there goes our best plan" Whispered Milicent in horror.
"Yeah!" Cheered Harry as he an Neville exchanged a high five.