Matagot: A magical beast that resembles a large black cat and is primarily found in France, where it sometimes works alongside the French Ministry of Magic. Though it poses no threat to humans under normal circumstances, when it feels threatened, the Matagot can morph into a grotesque form and is largely resistant to most magical spells.
Uses: The vomit of a Matagot has a delightful sweet scent, making it a valuable ingredient in perfumes and scented products. It can also be infused into the Draught of Peace or the Dreamless Sleep Potion to enhance its effectiveness.
Notes: A Matagot can replicate itself when subjected to a Stunning Spell, and it tends to exhibit docile behavior when offered silver vine or valerian root.
As the summer days of August drew to a close, unbeknownst to Marietta, sinister figures had woven themselves into the very fabric of the ministry, securing prominent positions through the use of dark magic.
Rufus Scrimgeour, the Minister of Magic, was brutally tortured and killed by suspected Death Eaters who sought the location of Harry Potter. In the wake of his grisly death, Pius Thicknesse, the former Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, took his place. Following the announcement of Severus Snape as the new Headmaster of Hogwarts, whispers about his rumored alliances spread throughout the wizarding world.
Oppressive legislation followed: attendance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was now mandatory, under threat of sentences at Azkaban for truants. The Muggle-Born Registration Commission was formed, and trials were scheduled for muggle-born students to justify their blood status. The motto "Magic is Might" was printed weekly on the front pages of the Daily Prophet, alongside a list of 'Undesirables.'
It was the first summer Marietta's father, Alfonso, would stay home. Alfonso and Floriana would engage in long discussions late into the night, their voices hushed as they considered leaving their current lives behind for the rural lands of Floriana's birth home. But ultimately, the weight of their decision rested on one simple truth: Marietta's safety. They concluded that she would be far better off at Hogwarts than exposed to the cold and unyielding walls of Azkaban.
While increasing terror encroached, Marietta resisted the urge to wallow. Instead, she ventured into the rugged outskirts of Cragcroft.
She wandered through shadowy caves, navigated sun-soaked fields of sand, scaled cliffs, and discovered the remains of a forgotten past. There was one castle in particular that she loved to explore; it stood soundlessly at the edge of a cliff.
Its worn brick walls were etched with old frames and tapestries, remnants of what it once was. Arches for windows and huge wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, slowly rotting with age. Her favorite room was what used to be the great chamber. An ornate fireplace stood in the middle of the room, flanked by tall arched doorways. Above the fireplace was a mirror that mimicked the shapes of the windows, and small wooden statues of wizards were intricately carved on the top sides of the fireplace. A few bewitched brooms continued to sweep the dusty floors of the abandoned castle; a teapot hung in the air, pouring an empty stream into tattered teacups, waiting for the masters of the castle to return once more.
Then, one evening, Marietta spotted a lone black owl with a beige belly straddled on a ledge of the abandoned castle; around one feathered leg was a vibrant yellow letter. She gently unfurled the parchment to reveal the familiar handwriting of her dearest friend, Hugh.
His father, terrified, had gone into hiding, fearing that the Death Eaters were after him. Hugh had refused to go with him so he was sent off to live with his mother and sister. He wrote about his time at his mother's home in the southwest of France near Rocamadour, the magical village of La Cité Perdue—it clings to the cliffs of a mountain, it wears beautiful Romanesque architecture, its bricked street dotted with shops, and on top of the hill is a muggle-made chapel forgotten long ago.
He wrote about how he dreaded the thought of returning to Hogwarts, yet, given the circumstances, he felt he had no choice. His revealed that Alecto and Amycus Carrow—the very individuals they had overheard that night—were now professors at the school. Marietta was utterly horrified. How could it be that the same people involved in Dumbledore's murder now stood in front of students as teachers? The situation seemed almost surreal, leaving her reeling at the implications of it all.
In two weeks, she would be required to return to Hogwarts, and the thought filled her with fear. Even if she did go back, her skills in Defense Against the Dark Arts were nowhere near strong enough to confront Death Eaters. She felt like a cornered rabbit walking right into the jaws of a hungry fox.
Marietta felt an unsettling warmness fill the room as a peculiar flicker of light caught her eye. She tore her gaze away from the letter that had absorbed her moments before. The fireplace loomed ahead, its flames sparkling.
With a surge of instinctual fear, she leaped to her feet and brushed off the dust that clung to her dress. Her hand flew to her wand, grounding herself in a defensive stance. The flames became a vivid emerald green and cracked horribly.
"Stay calm," she whispered to herself. She could see her hands shaking. Desperate to regain control, she shouted the incantation, "Aguamenti!" A torrent of water burst forth from her wand, cascading toward the blaze. But instead of quenching the fire, the stream evaporated instantly, hissing against the roaring inferno.
Marietta stepped back cautiously; she caught sight of movement within the flames. Shadows twisted and darted, and she squinted.
A mouth—a blazing, monstrous maw—began to materialize within the fire, its edges flickering like molten metal.
It opened wide, a cavernous void that seemed to breathe. The flames roared before exploding outward with a ferocious burst. Her pulse quickened as a figure erupted from the blaze, cloaked in swirling flames.
A disheveled young man with short blonde locks emerged, fitted in a white linen shirt and brown slacks. His eyes darted around as if he were being chased. Suddenly, he got to his feet, drawing his wand frantically and pointing it directly at her.
"Expelliarmus!" Marietta shouted, but her spell went embarrassingly wide, missing him entirely.
"I'm not trying to hurt you!" he yelled back. With urgency, he turned away from her, and a blazing yellow light erupted from his wand as he bellowed, "Bombarda Maxima!" The fireplace exploded violently, debris flying through the air, and its force sent him crashing to the ground.
"I had no choice! They track the Floo Systems!" he gasped, struggling to regain his breath after the wind had been knocked out of him. Marietta stared at him, caught in a web of fear and confusion, and her wand still on him.
He struggled to rise. A guttural groan escaped his lips. Instinctively, Marietta stepped forward in an attempt to help him, only to freeze as her eyes locked onto the crimson liquid seeping from a deep wound in his side.
Marietta desperately racked her brain for the healing spells she had learned in Charms class. Struggling to think, she said the first thing that came to mind.
"Episkey!" she shouted, hoping for a miracle. The boy's expression shifted, and while he no longer seemed to be in pain, the wound remained wide open.
Seeing he had gained some relief, he drew his wand with trembling hands and aimed it at his injury.
"Ferula!" A band of soft white wrappings sprang from his wand, encircling his torso. Marietta placed his arm over her shoulder and helped him to a dusty chair nearby.
They were too far from Cragcroft, and if they didn't act fast, he would bleed out before they got there. She had no choice but to leave him behind and race for help, praying that the bandages would buy him some time.
"Please don't." he replied, his voice firm but tinged with trepidation, as if he sensed her intentions before she spoke.
"Magic is might?" he asked suddenly, peering into her eyes as if expecting a specific reaction.
"W-what?" Marietta stammered. Relief flitted across his face, and he dropped his wand, letting it thud against the ground.
"Sorry," he said, adjusting his position. "I just had to make sure you weren't one of them."
"What's your name?" She said, in an attempt to cool the tension.
"My name is Robb Entwhistle, you?" he replied.
"Marietta." she said. The name Entwhistle rang a bell; a Ravenclaw boy she remembered from her fourth-year Transfiguration class came to mind. "Alright, Robb, let's figure out how to get you some help." As she straightened up, he grabbed her wrist, his grip desperate.
"No, I can't risk being seen by anyone. Anyone could turn me in. I already know the Snatchers are after me." he replied, a hint of panic in his voice. Snatchers? What on Merlin's beard was he talking about? Marietta didn't bother to press on when she was more concerned about his wound.
"But we can't just leave you in this state! You're going to bleed out!" she exclaimed.
Suddenly, a thought struck her like lightning. "Essence of Dittany! That can heal almost anything!" she clamored. "I'll run straight home—Papá probably has some in his suitcase." She dashed toward the castle doors, paused, then turned back. "I'll be back; it won't take more than an hour." With that, she slammed the door behind her and sprinted as fast as her legs could carry her.
She raced down to the sand at the foot of the castle. After what felt like an age, she spotted Cragcroft's owlery in the distance. Soon enough, she was at her front door, bursting through and heading straight for her parents' room. There, on her father's nightstand, was his blue suitcase.
She popped it open and rummaged around until she found a vial labeled 'Essence of Dittany' in neat, tiny handwriting. She entered her room, grabbed a small pink pouch, and quickly gathered an assortment of items.
Upon returning, she found Robb's bandages already soaked through.
"Let's get you sorted." she replied, helping him lie down. She unwrapped the bandages and applied three liquid drops onto his wound. It began to sizzle, and a thin wisp of smoke rose as the wound reacted. Before long, the gaping gash started to close, leaving behind only a faint scar.
"That's brilliant!" Robb said, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Yeah, we grow the ingredients and brewed the potion ourselves. We've got our little secrets for making it more effective than the standard stuff," she replied, a hint of pride creeping into her voice.
"You'll feel like a gallon of Galleons in no time!" She carefully cleaned the wound with a fresh cloth, gently dabbing at the mended skin as she wiped away the trickles of blood that marred his skin.
"Thank you." He flashed her a warm smile. Marietta felt her cheeks heat up, and she immediately focused intently on her pink pouch, not daring to meet his gaze. "I, um… I brought you a few things. I'll bring more tomorrow, but this will have to do for now."
She gingerly pulled out a thick blanket, a fresh pair of shirt and pants, water in glass bottles, and some wrapped dried meat, alongside a few packets of candy labeled 'Lima's Crazy Blob Drops.'
"Here, take a few of these," she said softly, handing him the Blob Drops. "They should help keep the dizziness at bay. And don't forget to drink lots of water; it's really important to replenish the blood you lost." She carefully placed the glass bottles beside him.
"You can stay here until it's safe for you to leave," she added, her voice a little more timid than she intended. "Until then, um, make yourself comfortable…"
Her curiosity piqued, and she couldn't stop the torrent of questions; they spilled from her lips all at once. "Are you related to Kevin Entwhistle? How did you end up here? Who were you running from?"
Robb was startled by the barrage of questions and struggled to focus on one before he responded. "Yeah, he's my younger brother. He was with me at the Ministry, but we got separated when we tried the Floo System. He went first—I must have messed up the pronunciation or something, and I ended up here instead." He explained. A silent pause, and then he asked, "So, where exactly am I?"
"Cragcroft," she said, her voice steady. "How did you end up at the Ministry in the first place?"
"I was stuck waiting for my trial at the Ministry, accused of possessing some bloody 'stolen' magic. It's ridiculous, honestly. Then, out of nowhere, someone blasted a spell at Umbridge, sent those damn Dementors packing, and told us to leave and run, so we all just legged it to the Floo System." he explained, his gaze darting around the room as he took in his surroundings.
"I thought it was the right thing to do—Kevin needed to attend it before starting Hogwarts. So, as our dad is a Muggle, I took him." He shook his head, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Looking back, it was a horrible mistake. I saw it as soon as we walked in there, and I should have known what was coming. I should have run."
"No one could have known; you did what you thought was right. They were probably expected law-abiding wizards to walk right into their trap." Marietta reassured him, placing a hand on his arm.
"You can't blame yourself for what happened," she said firmly.
"There's been rumors about the Ministry being infiltrated by Death Eaters. We had a few of our neighbors go in, but we haven't heard from them since." she whispered.
"They probably ended up in Azkaban. If you didn't go in willingly, Snatchers would be sent after you. They'd drag you back, dead or alive," he replied grimly. It had been ages since she last read the Daily Prophet, and all she had were snippets of information from the villagers.
"Was that who you were running from? The Snatchers?" she asked. He shook his head.
"Nah, it was one of Yaxley's lackeys I was trying to shake off. They caught me off guard—I felt the sting the moment I used the Floo Powder." He glanced at the now-healed wound
"Yaxley took over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after that dodgy Thicknesse nabbed the Minister gig. Honestly, I didn't think anyone could be more twisted than Thicknesse, but Yaxley's a proper Muggle-hater. He was gloating the whole time we were there, practically drooling at the thought of sending us to Azkaban," he said, a trace of anger in his voice.
Marietta had known about the Muggle trails. Now, guilt gnawed at her insides. How foolish she had been to think that everything would resolve itself. It struck her now that she had been in denial, shielding herself from the dark truths unfolding in the Ministry and the wizarding world at large.
As the evening darkened, she was torn between relief and reluctance. She didn't want to leave him there alone, yet she knew her parents would be worried if she didn't return.
"I'll be back tomorrow with more supplies." she said, he nodded.
With a gentle sigh, she gathered herself and turned to head home, the castle on the cliff looming behind her.