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Mysterious Affairs

the fifth year at Hogwarts

List of Contents

BOOH
Volo
RIP
Hazardous Ventures
Every Killer Beans?
What's in a Name?
The Bean Oracle
Trouble with Elves
Failure?
Fire-Flies
Slicing and Frying with Sprout and Flitwick
Flue
A New Strategy
Cursing Ducks
Vargas in Trouble
The Cookie Monster
The Incident
The Axes of Evil
Dream Oracles
The Killer Beans Strike Again
Berryows
Parents' Worries
A Poet's Curse
Cauldron Troubles
Oliver's First Match
Bertie Bott's Every Flavour...Mice
Christmas Preparations
A Hufflepuff Visit
Solutions
Preston's Secret
Greg Nott
Cupid's Arrows
Where the Heart is
The Vampire of Hyphenate Castle
In Search for a Suitable Successor
Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown
Careers Advice
Occult Practices
The Dark Mark
And Pall Thee in the Dullest Smoke of Hell
The Milk of Frigg
Necromancy Books, a Stick, and Bags of Suspicious Powder
Hot Spur Weasley
There Might Be A Little Dust on the Bottle...
New Quidditch Players
My Famous Forefather
One Last Piece of Advice
Seraphia's Detection
O.W.L.s

BOOH

Patience waited outside of the Hogwarts Express. She looked out for Anne. Patience was a little upset because her friend had been already at the station the last couple of years when she had arrived. ”Only five minutes left. Anne hurry up.” Patience murmured.

Anne entered the platform. She pushed a trolley with her luggage. Fortunately the platform was almost empty because Anne didn’t watch where she drove. ”Over here, Anne!” Patience shouted and waved at her friend. Anne ran to the door. She handed Patience her luggage. Patience placed it in the middle of the corridor. Anne entered just before the train started to move.

”Where have you been?” Patience asked her friend reproachfully. Anne was still out of breath. She fell on the seat. ”I was locked.” ”Your parents locked you?” Patience asked shocked. ”No this time it wasn’t the Munchkins’ fault. I was tired of waiting at the platform. I went outside again. I only wanted to do a little window-shopping. But then I saw this clock. An arm put little balls on runners when the runners...” ”Anne!” Patience interrupted her. ”I went inside. I didn’t notice that it was one of those damn automatic doors. It looked like a normal one to me. You know they never open when I stand in front of them. Nobody left the shop and I was locked. I could only escape through the entrance door as somebody entered. They thought I had stolen something and followed me. Of course they caught me...” ”Anne, you’re lying.” Patience intervened. ”Well all right it wasn’t that spectacular. Nevertheless I was locked in that damn shop.” Patience shook her head.

Hengist joined them in their compartment. ”Hello Hengist.” Anne greeted him. ”Sit down!” Patience invited him and cleared the place next to herself. ”How have your holidays been?” Anne asked Hengist. ”The same as every year.” Hengist replied. Patience and Anne knew what that meant. Dull holidays spent with the entire family. ”That’s pretty much the same what I had.” Patience admitted. Hengist looked at Anne. Anne ignored the fact that it had been her turn. ”C’mon Anne. You can tell Hengist and me about your holidays.” Patience assured her. Patience knew that her friend had been to Haiti. Anne rolled her eyes. ”You wouldn’t have liked it.” Anne said looking at Hengist. ”Oh, Anne. Hengist won’t tell anyone if you ask him to.” Patience reminded her. Hengist nodded. ”Alright. It was very warm.” Anne reported. Patience gave her an angry look and Anne continued. ”I’ve been to Haiti. The people of Haiti do their own magic. They call it Voodoo. It combines curses and Potions. They believe in ghosts as well. It was very interesting. But of course, most of them aren’t real magical people. A lot of muggles there. The muggle tourists believe everything they are told. They pay a lot of money to get a Love Potion or something like that.”

Anne went on telling the two about Haiti. But she left out Voodoo dolls – that was her own little secret. Finally they arrived at Hogwarts. Bethesda wanted to be carried by Patience. ”Funny, I always thought God has given her feet to use them but it seems that she doesn’t need them. She should give them back.” Anne suggested. Hengist grinned but Patience only gave her an angry look.

“Hagrid! Hi!” Patience waved at the half-giant who was calling out for the first-years to join him. Oliver looked at the lake and then up at the crowding clouds. “I think they’re gonna have a rough ride,” he predicted and grinned. “It doesn’t need a crystal ball to see that’s true,” Anne laughed. “Well, they will be disappointed not to have a good first view on Hogwarts,” Patience said thoughtfully. Suddenly Hengist nudged her. “Look,” he said excitedly. Patience turned obediently to look back at the crowd of firsties. Among them stood a taller figure – Roland Banks. “Anne – look, there!” Patience said and laughed.

“He’s taking a leaf out of your book,” Oliver grinned. Anne shook her head. “He just isn’t clever enough. Let’s get a carriage before everyone has left.” And she lead the way to the horseless carriages waiting to transport the older students to the castle. “Anyway, Verres, how comes you know about my boating trip?” Anne wanted to know. “Of course Patience told me,” Oliver answered. Patience nodded. “I thought it too good not to tell him.”

At the castle, they found that the Slytherin trio had taken the carriage right behind theirs. “Hey, Banks, I thought you were fancying a boat ride,” Anne called over. Banks turned, blushing fiercely. “Shut up, Symmons,” he said. Patience frowned. “You were detected and told that, although behaving like one, you’re not a firsty any longer?” she guessed. Vargas stepped up and took Roland’s arm. “Let’s get inside before the rain comes down,” he said, but gave Patience a warning glance. “That’s weird,” Hengist commented. “But,” he added cheerfully, “this wind might fasten the journey across the lake – and that’s great, for I’m starving.” The others laughed and together they went inside.

The three friends and Oliver sat down at the Gryffindor table. Slowly the new first years filled the Great Hall. The Sorting Hat lay on a chair in front of the teachers’ table. As soon as the first years, anxious and shivering with cold, were standing in a line, it began its usual song:

What do you see? Quick, tell me, child!
A hat that speaks and looks quite wild.
A magic hat, with brains four-score,
Some might whisper ‘even more’.
I’m proud of being in this school
And never have been called a fool.
Come, let the Sorting now begin!
I will tell which house you’re in.
If I see chivalry and nerve,
Then Gryffindor for you will serve.
If cunning and ambition I see,
It’s Slytherin where you will be.
Those almost as clever as the hat
Fare best in Ravenclaw, I bet.
And those who love to work and toil
Will find in Hufflepuff their soil.
I never once was wrong, oh no!
So put me on and have a go.

One by one had to put on the Sorting Hat. Every time the first year was sorted one of the tables cheered.

Patience sat next to Anne. ”What do you think, we’ll send up a ‘Booh’ the next time one is sorted for Slytherin?” Patience whispered. Anne nodded. Both girls hid their wands under the table until the next student went to Slytherin. It happened to be a blonde girl with pigtails that strode forward very confidently when her name was called: “Seraphia Banks!” Patience and Anne exchanged a glance. “Banks?” Hengist mouthed. Patience grinned. “Even better,” she murmured and Anne nodded fervently. They raised their wands and whispered ‘booh’. They sent it directly to the Slytherin table. Again they hid their wands. Anne whispered ‘lumos’ her wand lit up but Anne made it vanish immediately. Patience did the same. ”BOOOOOOOOOOOH” was the next thing the people in the Great Hall heard. It was a loud and angry ‘Booh’. Some of the students applauded. Snape looked angrily around. So did Roland who had got up to greet Seraphia at the Slytherin table. But as nearly everyone was laughing, he could not make out the source of the BOOH. Seraphia tossed back one of her pigtails. “I don’t care,” she informed her brother. “Hi,” she then said to Sebastian Cook and Ramon Vargas. “Welcome to the best house of Hogwarts, Seraphia,” Vargas warmly said and smiled charmingly at the girl. Seraphia blushed. From that moment on Vargas had a valuable help at his command. When the Sorting was over the plates filled with the most delicious food.

Volo

The Slytherins were very angry. They still thought about revenge for the ‘booh’. Roland Banks one of Slytherin’s most stupid students suspected Patience. He was right – most probably for the first time in his life and obviously by accident. He had heard about ‘volo’ the ‘Make somebody like something’-Charm and wanted to try it on Patience. He thought this very funny – although it obviously wasn’t. Roland wanted to make Patience like him and by this make her confess that she had sent the ‘booh’.

When he saw her approach with Anne he pointed his wand at her. ”Volo” Roland whispered. At the same moment Anne stood in front of Patience and with her back to Roland. ”There’s nothing you can do to make me like Quidditch!” Anne informed Patience as she got hit by Roland’s charm. ”Oh, I love Quidditch!” Anne said suddenly. Patience looked surprised at her. ”You’re kidding?” Patience asked carefully. ”Patience, it’s the best game in the world. Everybody loves Quidditch.” Anne went on praising Quidditch. Patience took it as one of Anne’s little tricks and let her go on.

Anne didn’t stop her talk about Quidditch. Patience was surprised how much her friend knew about the game she used to describe as boring. At the dinner table it was too much. ”Anne, stop it. I got your point. It’s not funny to listen to my Quidditch talk. Stop it immediately. I’ll never say another word about Quidditch at least not to you.” Patience assured her. ”That’s sad, Patience I thought you’d enjoy Quidditch as much as I do. It’s all about strategy and so on.” “Wait a minute. That’s not one of your tricks?” Anne looked surprised at her friend and shook her head. Patience grabbed Anne’s hand and dragged her up to the teachers’ table. They had to pass Snape. ”Next time we’ll beat Slytherin!” Anne told Patience but in a way that Snape had to hear it. His lips curled.

”Professor McGonagall, Anne has been bewitched.” Patience informed McGonagall. McGonagall looked at Anne. Anne smiled back at her. ”Don’t you agree, professor we’ll crush the Slytherins next time and we’ll certainly win the cup.” McGonagall frowned. ”I see what you mean, but are you sure this isn’t one of her little tricks. You talk a lot about Quidditch yourself...” McGonagall suggested. Patience shook her head violently. ”No. She must have been bewitched.”

McGonagall and Patience took Anne to the Hospital Wing. This time they didn’t pass Snape. While Madam Pomfrey took care of Anne – she was still talking about Quidditch. McGonagall took Patience aside. ”What happened?” ”I’m not sure, professor. We walked down the corridor – we were talking about Quidditch – Anne overtook me and stood in front of me. She told me that she’ll never like Quidditch and next she said ‘I love Quidditch!’” Patience reported. McGonagall turned to Madam Pomfrey. ”Poppy, what do you say?” ”It might have been a ‘Make somebody like something’-Charm. But I’m not sure.” McGonagall nodded. ”You better stay with your friend, Miss Wood.” McGonagall said and turned to leave. ”...and think of the suspense when both seekers are after the snitch only a few inches away from grabbing it...” Anne sighed.

McGonagall went back to the Great Hall. ”Miss Symmons has been bewitched. It seems to be a ‘Make somebody like something’-Charm. Poppy tries to cure her.” McGonagall informed her colleagues. ”Poor Miss Symmons!” Professor Flitwick exclaimed. Professor Sprout nodded. Madam Hooch grinned a little because she knew that Anne wasn’t to keen on Quidditch. She would have loved to see her play Quidditch now that she liked it. Of course the fact that one of the students had been bewitched wasn’t funny. Even Snape looked concerned. ”We should find out who has done it.” Dumbledore said. He looked at Snape. ”We could try the ‘prior incantato’ spell. We might find the culprit.” Snape suggested. The other teachers nodded. ”Minerva you’ll check Gryffindor, Hunter Hufflepuff, Professor Flitwick Ravenclaw, Severus Slytherin. Nausicaa you’ll help Severus, Madam Hooch, Professors Flitwick and Binns, Hunter and I’ll help you Minerva.” Dumbledore ordered.

The teachers left and went to the different houses. The students were led to the common rooms one after the other so that the others didn’t know what was done inside. Nausicaa Sprout had the brilliant idea to do it in alphabetical order. Roland was the third student to enter the common room. Snape took Roland’s wand. ”Prior incantato” Snape said. The wand sent out a little flash of light. The ‘Make somebody like something’-Charm produced exactly such a flash of light if it wasn’t directed at a person. ”So you did it!” Snape said in a dangerous voice. He took Roland outside and sent Sprout to get Dumbledore.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape stood in front of Roland in Dumbledore’s office. Snape stared angrily at Roland. ”Did you bewitch Miss Symmons?” Dumbledore asked in his warm voice. Roland nodded. ”But I didn’t want to bewitch her. I wanted to bewitch that Wood creature.” Roland burst out. ”Don’t you ever call Miss Wood creature again!” McGonagall warned him. ”She did that ‘booh’ thing on the first evening.” Roland added. ”You can of course prove this?” Snape asked. Roland shook his head. Snape looked a little disappointed. Dumbledore turned to Snape. ”What do you suggest as punishment, Severus?” ”One week dusting the books in the library – without magic.” Dumbledore turned to McGonagall. ”Do you agree, Minerva?” ”Yes, but he should apologize to Anne as well.” McGonagall said. Snape agreed.

Anne sat on one of the hospital beds. She buried her face in her hands. Patience sat next to her petting Anne’s leg comfortingly. ”And I had to listen to myself talking about boring Quidditch.” Snape smiled. He pushed Roland in Anne’s direction. Snape cleared his throat. Patience and Anne looked up. They were surprised. Roland turned to Snape. Snape looked angrily at him. Roland went to Anne. Anne didn’t know how to react. ”Sorry.” Roland said shortly and suddenly stretched out his hand. His movement had been so fast that Anne moved backwards. She almost fell down.

”What happened?” Patience asked looking at Snape. ”Mr. Banks bewitched Miss Symmons – accidentally.” Snape informed the two girls. Anne shook Roland’s hand. Roland turned around and left. ”What do you mean ‘he bewitched her accidentally’?” Patience wanted to know. ”He wanted to bewitch you, Miss Wood. Unfortunately the spell hit Miss Symmons. He wanted revenge for the ‘booh’ you produced in the Great Hall.” Snape explained and left. ”Nice.” Anne sighed. ”We should have told him that it hadn’t been you.” Anne added. Patience remained silent. Snape had of course been listening to this little conversation. He wasn’t too sure if he should believe Anne. ”Patience will you do me a favour, shoot me when I’ll start talking about that game again.” ”Actually I liked the other Anne. It would be much nicer to have somebody to talk about Quidditch all day long.” Patience told her with a broad grin. Anne threw a cushion after her friend. Patience threw it back. ”Pillow-fight!” Anne exclaimed merrily. ”Stop it!” Madam Pomfrey ordered. ”Go back to your common room before you destroy the Hospital Wing.” Madam Pomfrey told them.

RIP

The Gryffindor fifth years were waiting for Professor Binns in his classroom. “Funny, he’s never late”, Hengist remarked. “Well, maybe he’s again sleeping in front of the staff room fire”, Nelly suggested. “Who cares? It’s a beautiful day and I’d much rather go down to Hagrid’s to look for…”, Anne began and stopped only because of a hearty kick from Patience. “Look for what?”, Ghewyn Rhys asked curiously, immediately seconded by Nelly. “Are you two ever doing something without the other?”, Anne asked sharply. It made the girls draw back. Patience grinned. “Well, after all, they could ask us the same”, she softly said to keep the fragile peace. It was no fun to sleep in one dormitory when everyone was arguing with the others. Anne scowled at her but kept silent.

“I will go to the staff room to look for him”, Patience at last offered. “Better you than me”, Hengist grinned. “You’re his favourite, so go and get bellowed at.” Patience left the room without answering, but Anne did. “Hengist, if you were a gentleman you would have gone with her”, she teased the still rather small boy. Hengist sighed. “No, I’m no gentleman. But tell you what, I’m going to train to get into the Quidditch team, then she’ll like me better!” It was only a joke, and everyone broke into laughter. “You in the Quidditch team!”, roared stout Mike Flatley, slapping his legs. “Why not? Seekers are meant to be small”, Hengist grinned. “Yeah, but if you were in Hufflepuff everyone would mistake you for the Golden Snitch!”, Brian Cullen yelled and caused another uproar of laughter. Hufflepuff played in canary yellow robes.

Suddenly the door burst open and a white-faced Patience stood on the threshold. “He’s not at all sleeping”, she panted, but couldn’t finish her sentence for the well-known voice of Binns ushered Patience to her place. What came next no one could have been prepared for. Catherine Hayes screamed out loud. Even Mike Flatley went a little pale.

Mr Binns was not alive anymore – he was a ghost. But he didn’t seem to notice it. “Someone has to tell Dumbledore”, Patience whispered frantically and raised her hand before Anne could hinder her. “Yes, Miss White?”, Binns friendly asked. Names had never been of any importance for him. “Sir, I feel a little sick, may I go to the Hospital Wing?” “Yes, yes, leave”, Binns said and waved her out of the room, returning in an instant to his theme: Witch hunts in connection with the Protestant European territories. The class looked open-mouthed at ghost professor Binns. This was the first time ever he had the undivided attention of a class, though not to his words. Behind Anne, Mike Flatley and Brian Cullen were whispering. “Do you think we’ll manage to throw this little paper ball through his nose?”, Mike asked. Brian shrugged and answered: “Ten points if you get it through his left eye!” Anne turned enraged. “Stop it! Let Dumbledore deal with the problem. Think of what a shock it will give Binns to discover he’s dead!” “Miss Snyder, would you be so kind to turn your attention to 16th century Europe!”, Binns sharply said. Giving the two boys behind her a reproachful look Anne obediently turned to face ghost Binns again.

Patience, in the mean time, had taken two steps at once to reach McGonagall’s office. Without waiting for an answer to her knocking she burst into the room. “Miss Wood! What is this?”, McGonagall asked sharply. “Sorry, professor, I… Professor Binns, he’s… he’s…” “Yes, Miss Wood?” McGonagall seemed a bit impatient. “He’s dead!”, Patience blurted out. “He’s what?”, McGonagall asked, coming around her desk. “If this is a joke, I tell you it isn’t a good one!” “No, really, he’s sitting in the staff room, in front of the fire place – and at the same time he’s teaching History of Magic in his class, only without his body.” “I will see that for myself”, McGonagall resolved and made Patience come with her.

Patience wasn’t keen on seeing Binns’ corpse again. She tried to linger behind, but it was no good. “Come on, Miss Wood!”, McGonagall hissed, when she opened the staff room door. There he was, exactly as Patience remembered him. The old man was sitting in front of the fire place, his head sunken to his breast, eyes closed, one hand holding a book, the other a package of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “Oh dear”, McGonagall gasped, walking over to the armchair and softly shaking the old man. “I… I tried that as well”, Patience said with a trembling voice. “You were right, he’s dead. We have to tell Professor Dumbledore.” Patience threw a last glance at the corpse when McGonagall ushered her out.

They walked up various staircases. When they came to an extremely ugly goblin, McGonagall said: “Vanilla pudding.” What a queer password! But they were allowed to enter Dumbledore’s private rooms. He was in his office, and a beautiful red and golden bird was sitting on his desk. “Ah, Minerva – and Miss Wood, what a surprise. Won’t you take a seat?” Patience sank into a chair. The bird looked at her and bowed his head slightly. She wondered what kind of a bird that was. “This is Fawkes, my phoenix”, Dumbledore said, as if he had read Patience’s thoughts. “Hello, Fawkes”, she whispered. Fawkes nodded again, but turned away. “Albus, Binns has died and is now teaching as a ghost”, McGonagall explained the situation. “He didn’t notice? How odd!” Dumbledore turned to Patience. “Did you find him?”, he gently asked. Patience nodded. “I wanted to wake him up, but he was dead. And then he called me from the other end of the room, telling me to hurry up or I would be late for his class.” “That must have been a shock to you”, Dumbledore sympathetically said. “Well… In fact, it was such a weird situation I didn’t think too much”, Patience said awkwardly. “I see. Well, has he noticed by now?” “I don’t think so, unless someone has told him”, Patience supposed.

Dumbledore got up. “We’ll better see for ourselves. And you should go back to your class – it’s with Binns, isn’t it?” Patience nodded again. “Well, what did you tell him why you left?”, Dumbledore asked on the way to the classroom. “I said I felt sick and had to go to the Hospital Wing.” “Fine. Simply go in, Minerva and I will follow soon”, the headmaster advised her. Patience wondered what the two were up to but obeyed. Slipping to her seat again, smiling apologetically at ghost Binns, she whispered to Anne Dumbledore would see for himself. But nothing seemed to happen. Once a grey cat came into the room, looking for something or someone, but went out again soon. Binns talked and talked as usual. By now, the Gryffindors had got used to being able to see through the body of their teacher. Catherine Hayes looked dreamily out of the window which happened to be exactly behind Binns. Mike and Brian were again plotting an attack with paper balls, this time prevented by Patience and the end of the lesson. “I wonder what kept Dumbledore”, Patience said to Anne on their way to Gryffindor to put away their books. “And what cat that was. Did you see those funny marks around her eyes? As if she wore glasses”, Anne remarked. Patience stopped abruptly, causing someone to bump into her. “Can’t you go on?”, the Ravenclaw snapped and went by. Patience didn’t listen.

“That was no proper cat!”, she exclaimed. “Are you mad?”, Anne asked. “Of course that was a cat, just as Bethesda!” “No. That was Professor McGonagall. Don’t you remember the lesson she told us about animagi? I looked up some names in the register once, but forgot to tell you McGonagall was a cat.” Patience looked excited and flushed. “Found the philosopher’s stone, eh?”, Brian sneered walking past the girls. “I’m not doing Alchemy, Brian”, Patience said indignantly. Brian grinned. “But if you could double up you would”, he grinned and went away. “True”, Patience admitted. “Maybe Dumbledore was there, with the cat”, she said. “Exactly”, McGonagall’s voice said behind her. Patience and Anne turned shocked. “Oh, it’s okay. We’ve decided not to tell Professor Binns about his death. He will be buried decently these days and then he will in time learn he’s not alive any more.” “How is he supposed to learn? The moment he tries to eat and drink he’ll know for sure!”, Anne exclaimed. “Yes, so I think we all should be prepared”, McGonagall said and left them. “It’s going to be now!”, Patience said tonelessly. Then a broad grin spread over her face. “Not for ten thousand galleons would I miss this show, come on, hurry up, Anne!” And she sprinted up to the dormitory, threw her books on the bed and ran down again. Anne followed a bit slower.

The Gryffindor table was uncommonly hushed, but it seemed pretty forced. Hengist told the two that McGonagall had forbidden them to talk about Binns’ death. “But we’re going to have the show of our lives!”, Hengist added, jerking his head to the teacher’s table. Anne had to put her hand over her mouth to suppress a giggle. Between McGonagall and Flitwick sat ghost Binns, talking animatedly. The teachers had been prepared beforehand, even though Professor Trelawney was teased about not having known Binns would die today. But the Slytherins, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs forgot to eat and simply stared at the ghost. “Really, they should be used to ghosts by now”, Patience grinned and had to duck behind a mug of pumpkin juice not to be seen laughing. They all held their breath when Binns took up his glass to drink. “Now, it’s going to happen now!”, Patience whispered, causing Hengist to let his fork fall down to have a reason to go under the table. There was a noise suspiciously like laughter from under the table. “Up there, Hengist, you’re missing it”, Catherine whispered, pulling back the tablecloth.

Hengist returned to his seat just the moment the contents of Binns’ glass spilled on the floor because they had simply run through his translucent throat. There was no help to it, Ghewyn burst into laughter and ran out of the hall, followed by Nelly of course. Binns looked shocked to death. “What has happened?”, he asked stunned. Dumbledore took over explaining his situation to poor ghost Binns. In the meantime, the other students had recovered as well and were either laughing or eating as usual, now and then throwing a glance at Binns. Patience had buried her head in her arms, crying with laughter. “You should eat something”, Anne advised her. “Or drink something”, Hengist said helpfully which made Patience burst into another fit of laughing again. At last she decided to leave the hall. McGonagall had looked ever more stern over the last few minutes.

When she was in the middle of the Entrance Hall she remembered something. Binns had held a box of Every Flavour Beans when he died. That was really strange. She stopped dead, thinking it over. As far as she knew Every Flavour Beans were liked by students rather than teachers. Preston came out of the hall. “A nice behaviour you showed, Miss Wood”, he snarled. “I’m sorry, Professor”, she answered absentmindedly. “If I were McGonagall I would give you a detention”, Preston added. Patience didn’t react at all. “Professor”, she said slowly, “did you ever see Professor Binns eat Every Flavour Beans?” Preston’s face went red with fury. “This is no joking matter, Miss Wood!”, he fumed. “Five points off Gryffindor!” “But no, sir, no, I didn’t want to make fun of it!”, Patience exclaimed at once. Unfortunately the picture of Binns as a ghost throwing beans into his mouth and plastering the way he walked was very funny and Patience couldn’t help smiling. That wasn’t helpful at all. “What was it but a joke?”, Preston inquired unconvinced. “It was a sincere question, for it was I who found poor Professor Binns dead”, Patience explained. Preston suddenly looked concerned. “Did you? Well, I can’t remember him ever eating sweets”, he said. “Why do you ask?” “Oh, I just thought of something”, Patience answered evasively. Preston still looked a bit suspicious, but he went away at last. Over his shoulder he said he wouldn’t take away any points. Patience was relieved.

Suddenly her little brother Oliver, by now in his second year, came out of the hall. “Now what was that, Helena?”, he asked, wiping tears of laughing out of his eyes. “You know it, don’t you, Verres?”, she grinned. “Yeah, I know it. Have I told you I was reserve keeper in our Quidditch team?” “At least five hundred times these three days”, Patience sighed. Oliver smiled. “So you won’t forget when you’re commentating my fist match.” “No, I won’t. I’ll keep reminding you to straighten your robes and watch the quaffel and…” Oliver stuck out his tongue to his sister and went upstairs.

Finally Anne came out again. She carried some bread and a mug of pumpkin juice. “Thought you would want to eat something”, she explained. “Later. We have to find a place where we can talk without being overheard.” Anne looked bewildered. “What are you talking about?”, she asked. Patience walked very fast through the corridors, looking into rooms every now and then. A tiny classroom, unused for a long time judging by the dust, seemed to invite her in. She closed the door behind Anne who put down her mug and the bread. “And now do me the favour to tell me”, Anne begged. Patience nodded gravely.

“Binns didn’t die just of old age”, she said in a low, mysterious voice. “Hang on! That’s a joke!”, Anne cried out. “No. When I found him he was holding a box of Every Flavour Beans. He never ate some before, Preston assured me.” Anne sniffed because of the dust. “Well, old people do strange things sometimes”, she said. Patience looked exasperated. “Don’t you see? Someone murdered Binns!” “Why should someone murder Binns? He’s boring and that’s all anyone could say against him as far as I know.” “Exactly. As far as we know. We must find out more!” Patience’s eyes glowed in a fire that told Anne it would be wise to agree to her plans, hoping it would all come to nothing. “And what should we find out?”, Anne asked cautiously. “First we should know if something has vanished out of Snape’s store. For whoever has done that couldn’t get poison that easily at Hogsmeade!” That was true. The only place the two girls could think of where poison was openly sold was Knockturn Alley. “So we should find out who was at London?”, Anne asked. “Nonsense. All students will have been at Diagon Alley before the term started. You can forget that. Even if someone has been to Knockturn Alley he wouldn’t admit it!”, Patience snapped. She was pacing the room. “I know”, she suddenly said. “Fine. What?” “I will simply ask Snape if something of his private stores could be used to create a deadly poison.” Anne shook her head. “That’s really the worst plan I’ve ever heard of, but go on, rather you than me!”

Hazardous Ventures

It was too late for Patience to set her plan into action during lunch break. She already had to hurry to Divination. This time she not even feigned to listen to Trelawney’s talk about star maps. She kept rehearsing different conversations with Snape. Knowing she would never have the guts to do it when she postponed it, as soon as she was able to escape the stifling hot room Trelawney held classes in she ran to Gryffindor, threw her bag on her bed, straightened her hair that kept sticking out of its thick braid and went down into the dungeons. She took a deep breath and knocked a little too sharply on Snape’s office door. “Come in!”, he snarled from inside. Carefully she opened the door.

Snape stared at her. “Miss Wood”, he simply said, indicating she should come over to his desk. She closed the door behind her and went over. “What is it?”, he unfriendly asked. “I just wondered if there were ingredients in here to…” It was pretty difficult to phrase it. “Yes?”, Snape asked impatiently. He had been writing something, Patience saw. “To make a deadly poison”, she finished her sentence. Snape raised one eyebrow. “Pray tell me who you want to kill”, he said. “No one. I just wondered something might be missing.” Snape shook his head. “Not as far as I know.” “Did you check it today, sir?”, Patience asked, gaining a bit more self-confidence. “No, I didn’t. Why should I?” Patience swallowed nervously. “Well, Professor Binns…” Snape understood at once. “I see.” He got up and went along his shelves.

It took ages, at least Patience thought so. “You are right, Miss Wood, there are some ingredients missing. Radix Serpentariae, Juniperus communis, Cichorium intybus and Gentiana lutea.” Patience didn’t know the names at all. “These, Miss Wood, are in themselves absolutely harmless. Thrown together with water and a bit of black scorpion and put on fire for three weeks they are very dangerous”, Snape explained. “So it is a liquid poison”, Patience concluded. “Exactly. Now tell me why you thought Binns was poisoned.” Patience told him the story about Binns’ eating Every Flavour Beans. Snape nodded slowly. “It would be easy for everyone to poison these. You simply have to throw them in the liquid for about two minutes. The poison does not taste strange, it is absolutely clear, no one would know it.” Patience was alarmed. “What if there are more Beans circulating?”, she asked. Snape looked into her eyes. “I advise you to tell only Miss Symmons, if you have to. I will see to every caution.” Patience was dismissed, no doubt. Her knees were weak. When she had told Anne what had happened, Anne was alarmed as well. “And I thought it was only a whim of yours”, she said stunned. “Sorry, Miss Marple, I will listen to your suspicions from now on.”

Every Killer Beans?

They had to be careful. Every time they saw someone with a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans they summoned it or made it fall down to the floor. Once they were even caught by Snape. “Tut tut, Miss Symmons, Miss Wood”, he said in a very low voice. “But as I know what this all is about I will not say a word.” Anne turned to Patience after the teacher had left. “What if Snape is behind all that?”, she asked. Patience grinned. “Yeah, it would be possible. But I don’t think he is. He would never let us run around investigating like that if he were the culprit.” Anne had to acknowledge that there was some truth in what Patience said. But still she thought it all too possible that Snape was the murderer. Though it would have been much more fitting if the victim had been Preston. It was common knowledge by now the young Potion’s master was keen to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. “He knows an awful lot about Dark Magic”, Anne thought aloud. “Oh, please, Anne, drop that thought”, Patience snapped. She had another thought. “It was only a first move, Binns wasn’t intended to be the real victim”, she said. Anne thought it fit her theory as well and had no objection to the thought. So they thought it over and over again who could have been the real victim. They came to no solution.

What’s in a Name?

“Now who is coming round the corner? Isn’t it our Gryffindor trio of mischief makers?”, Vargas sneered. Patience ignored him completely while Anne scowled and Hengist made a very rude sign. “That doesn’t help, you know”, Patience told him off. “Wait a second, both of you!”, Hengist suddenly exclaimed. “What?”, Anne asked, shivering a little because the corridors were as usual a bit colder than the classrooms. “We need a name”, he said. “Oh no, I’m Anne, she’s Patience and sometimes I’m Amy and she’s Helena, so we don’t need another name”, Anne joked. Hengist shook his head impatiently. “Something that sounds really cool”, he said thoughtfully.

Patience stared at the blank wall. “Yeah, that’d be fun”, she agreed. Anne nodded slowly. “Okay, that would be fun.” “Magnificent magical magicians?”, Hengist suggested. “No, that’s ridiculous”, Anne said briskly. “If you don’t like it…”, Hengist said a bit offended. Patience sighed. “It’s too long and Anne is right, it isn’t cool just ridiculous.” Hengist seemed soothed. “What’s that bird out there?”, Anne suddenly asked. “It’s a common magpie, Anne, use your eyes”, Patience grinned.

“Magpie… Isn’t that an idea? I mean, we don’t steal, okay, but at least it sounds a bit like magic?” “Does it have to sound like magic?”, Patience asked sceptically. “I think I’ve got it!”, Anne suddenly exclaimed. “Which is?”, Hengist asked curiously. “Malignant trio!” “No!”, Hengist cried. “But it fits, doesn’t it?”, Patience asked, smiling. “We are a bit malicious, aren’t we? And well, okay, I still don’t like the trio, but…” “Then let’s be the malignant magpies. Reckon that’s a compromise?” “That’s it, Hengist, I love it”, Patience decided. Anne agreed as well. They placed their wands together. “So this is it, the Malignant Magpies are born!”, Hengist announced dramatically. “And they’ll be dead if we don’t hurry to Professor Flitwick!”, Patience laughed. “What a pity our Slytherin sneering friends aren’t there as well”, Hengist grinned. “Oh, I can do perfectly without them, thanks”, Anne sighed. “And I bet Flitwick can as well”, Patience added.

They arrived just in time to fling themselves into seats in the back of the class and grab their wands. Tiny Professor Flitwick climbed his usual pile of books to have a better view. “Today we will practise a vanishing charm”, he announced. “Remember that the pronunciation is vital.” He wrote some words on the blackboard. Anne stared at them in disbelief. “He is joking, I hope”, she muttered. Patience looked concerned. “I fear he’s not”, she whispered back. Hengist grabbed his toad (most of the time he had Mungus in his bag or in his wardrobe) and put him on his desk. “Okay, if it works, I’ll get rid of this ugly Mungus”, he said grimly. Patience rolled her eyes. Since last year – that is, since his grandmother had bought Mungus – Hengist tried to get rid of him in various ways. But in fact he liked the toad pretty well. Flitwick read them the word. “Evanesco”, he said. “Well, yes, that sounds easy”, Anne vaguely said. Flitwick looked over to them. “Maybe Miss Symmons should pay more attention”, he said, but he didn’t sound stern at all. “Now look how to wave your wand.” Flitwick handed out nuts to practise with. “Mr Alret, you should put away your toad unless you want to make it vanish”, the professor said twinkling. “That’s exactly what I want”, Hengist declared. Flitwick looked startled. “Oh? Well, practise with your nuts, if you please, not with your toad!” “Not to mention he would return Mungus in an instant”, Patience whispered. Hengist nodded grimly and stuffed Mungus rudely in his bag. The he waved his wand and tried to make the nuts disappear. Anne burst into laughter at what had happened. Instead of vanishing the nuts had opened and only the fruit had vanished – the shells were lying empty on the table. “Just imagine that had been Mungus!”, Patience shuddered, thinking of a disembowled toad. “We could at least have given him to Snape”, Hengist sighed. Anne looked disgusted. “I think you don’t need to offer Mungus to Snape, simply let him sit on your table in a Potions lesson,” Patience suggested.

The Bean Oracle

“Do you know the famous bean oracle?” Brian Cullen asked mischievously, dropping into a chair next to Anne. “No. I don’t believe in Divination,” Anne replied and snatched her Muggle Studies essay before Brian could take it. “Patience?” Brian asked unimpressed. “What? No,” she said, barely looking up from her book on verity serums. “Alret?” Brian tried again. Hengist shook his head. “No, Cullen, there’s just nobody who knows the famous bean oracle.”

Brian rubbed his hands and leaned forward. “Then, I guess, I’ll have to show you,” he declared. “We’re working, Brian,” Patience complained. “You can go back to work after I’ve shown you,” Brian suggested. “But I want to go on working right now,” Anne said exasperatedly. “You’ll be able to – if you let me show you,” Brian slyly insisted.

“How are the chances that you leave without explaining the oracle?” Hengist wanted to know. “Very low,” Brian cheerfully replied. ”Mike’s already explaining the oracle to the Trelawney fan club.” Indeed Mike was talking to Catherine, Nelly and Ghewyn who were listening avidly to everything he said. “Yes, but they take Divination seriously – we don’t, and, as I may remind you, you don’t,” Patience pointed out. “You’re clutching at straws, Wood, give up,” Brian advised her amused.

Anne threw down her quill. “Alright, then, get it over with,” she said. Brian beamed at her. “You’re such a darling, sweet Anne,” he cooed. Anne gave him such a dirty look that Brian thought for a moment of quitting without showing the oracle. However, the idea was too good not to be told, and so he went on: “You need a package of Every Flavour Beans.”

“Er… Brian, the beans are forbidden at the moment,” Hengist said and shifted uneasily in his seat. “Alret, don’t be a ninny. Everyone has some beans left – and nobody’s died so far,” Brian bracingly said. Patience shook her head. “Professor Binns did,” she said in a low voice. “You’re spoiling the mood, dear Patience, shut up,” Brian said coolly and put an almost empty package of Every Flavour Beans on the table.

“Now, Patience, if you do me the favour and close your eyes, then draw five beans,” Brian explained. Patience sighed but did as she was asked. “Alright,” Brian said when five beans lay on the table. “So you’ve got a red one, a grey one, two purple ones and a white one. Let’s see…” He checked a parchment. “That means, you’re going to have luck – the white one -, and you’re going to be very successful – the purple beans -, and besides you’re going to suffer a little – grey – and you’re going to fall in love. I guess that’s why you suffer,” Brian said knowingly. “And you read that out of the colours of the beans?” Patience asked. Brian nodded. “Yes. It’s a really safe way,” he boasted.

“Rubbish,” Anne decided unnerved. “Sure. But don’t you think some people believe in it? Guess how many bean oracles will be drawn these days, just to see if Trelawney’s prediction of who is going to die this year is right?” Brian’s eyes sparkled. Hengist laughed. “You’re right, the oracle’s great!”

At that moment, Catherine shrieked and jumped up so fast her chair was knocked to the floor. “That can’t be true!” Nelly wailed. Mike examined his parchment again and shrugged. “Well, it says it’s true,” he said into the silence in the Common Room. “The black bean means death.”

“Mike!” Anne bellowed. Some first years were frantically pouring out the beans from their packages to see if they had black beans – chances were high, as there were always one or two black beans in a package. Mike looked at Anne innocently. “What?”

“That is not funny! You’re scaring the wits out of many people – those who are not clever enough to figure out you made that whole oracle up by yourselves,” Anne said fiercely. “Besides,” Hengist joined in, “there is always a black bean in the package – big deal if you get one.” “And,” Patience added, “it’s especially stupid as Professor Binns was poisoned with beans. You should think before doing this!”

Brian and Mike looked at each other. “You’re no prefects,” Mike muttered mutinously. “No,” Hengist admitted. “But we have some sense, and you, I thought, were intelligent as well. Stop it, please. You can go on with the oracle as long as it doesn’t include death.” Brian considered this. “Alright,” he gave in. “Maybe it wasn’t funny to predict death,” Mike sighed. “Cathy, listen, nobody’s going to die just because you eat a black bean. But the black ones are often tar, so you won’t like them anyway.” The tension released into laughter.

“Bean oracle, honestly,” Anne shook her head. “You can be sure we don’t believe in it,” Patience assured her friend. Anne grinned. “No. Bad enough you listen to that old fraud Trelawney.”

Trouble with Elves

In the magical world there are hundreds of strange species, and one of the strangest is certainly that of the elves. To the big family of elfin creatures belong pixies as well as goblins. But while pixies are extremely dumb and goblins extremely ugly, muggles have thought of fairies as being handsome and helpful. Never ask a gnome or a goblin for help, though, you might come off worse! To ask a pixie anything is useless (read the chapter in the revised edition of Gilderoy Lockhart’s Pedigree of Pixies).

But there are also the really useful, never-tiring house elves. They are neither beautiful nor have they charming voices – far from that. But they are helpful little creatures. They can be found in most of the ancient magical manors and they are closely connected to the family they serve. At Hogwarts, there is the largest known number of house elves to be found. Usually nothing can upset them, but sometimes a very nosy students manages to annoy them fiercely.

One fine day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, three students sneaked down to the kitchen. “Tickle the pear”, one of them whispered. The second student obeyed. They didn’t notice that they were watched by three other students whose faces showed plain dislike. When the three first students were inside the kitchen, the others drew near. “Shall we close the door by magic?”, a bulky one asked. “No, Cook, that’ll be useless. Or do you want to have a diet?”, a Spanish-looking, handsome boy retorted. “He could use it, he’s grown a little fat”, the third one, a nervous blond boy with pimples all over his face sneered. “Hold your tongue, Banks!”, the insulted Cook hissed. Banks retreated instantly. “They said Miss Alret should tickle the pear, didn’t they?”, he changed the topic to what was to be done. “Yes”, the Spaniard said. “But we should try it only at night and not like these dumb Gryffindors in broad daylight!” “Vargas, c’mon, someone’s drawing near!”, Banks suddenly hissed.

They hurried to duck behind one of the huge chests of drawers in the corridor. “Oooh, had we known that…”, Vargas said wistfully. For the person advancing was no one else but the House Teacher of Slytherin, Professor Severus Snape. He turned around, looking just in the direction where the three boys were hidden. They held their breath. Snape frowned, but walked on, perhaps thinking it had been the wind or a mouse he’d heard. Although the three boys were actually in Snape’s house, they weren’t too sure he wouldn’t punish them. It had been Banks who had had a few detentions already, and in his opinion he owed them all to the three boys’ rivals, the three Gryffindor students now in the kitchen. “If it weren’t for these damned Malignant Magpies”, Banks was saying under his breath for the millionth time. Vargas and Cook agreed with silent nods.

Now the kitchen door opened and the three Gryffindor students (for Gryffindor they were according to the lion badges on their black robes), carefully looking if someone was near, sneaked upstairs again, pockets bulging with food. They were giggling all their way. The Slytherins waited for them to withdraw. Vargas counted silently to hundred until he gave the sign to leave their hiding place. Almost noiselessly they went up to the picture of a fruit basket and tickled the pear. It giggled and tried to get away, and the kitchen door opened.

Vargas, Cook and Banks stood there and simply watched. There were at least 50 house elves busy with cooking, baking and washing dishes. One was cleaning the hearth, one was scrubbing some wooden tables, a third was sweeping the floor. A couple of elves were making pastry dough, the group on the next table chopping dried fruits for the pastry. On one of the big hearths a steaming pot of hot chocolate stood with the inscription “Madam Pomfrey’s property”.

Then one of the little green figures remarked the boys on the threshold. “Oh, gentlemen, advance”, it invited them friendly. Vargas stepped in, seeing large plates full of freshly made biscuits. “They smell deliciously”, he said to his friends. He had hardly finished his words when one house elf poured an entire plate of biscuits into a small basin and handed it to the boys. “Do you need anything else, sirs?”, it squealed. “If you have some of the fruit pastry ready, I wouldn’t mind having some”, Banks boldly said. His wish was followed immediately. “And some crackers, do you have some?”, Cook asked eagerly. The elves had. And above all, they had little tarts with green and blue icing and sugared cherries on top, filled with vanilla cream or alternatively whipped cream with chocolate. Of these the boys also got some specimen.

They went out of the kitchen without thanking the elves who didn’t seem to bother. Well, actually, the Slytherins would never have thought such a green serving slave would have any feelings at all. They couldn’t know that the Gryffindors had asked politely and had even helped preparing something until shovelled away by friendly elves and placed at the table with hot chocolate and icing tarts.

The house elves, though not particularly fond of humans who tried helping them and messing things up, had been glad to give sweets to the friendly Gryffindor students. But the three following… “Them masters not so nice”, one elf said thoughtfully. “Them is no masters, Milly”, another said. “You two is to blame, is you!”, a commanding voice said. “You is not to criticize masters!” The two elves nodded sadly and slapped themselves a few times until the commanding elf told them to stop. “But Milly and Bunny is right, them masters not so nice as them misses and the little master of Gryffindor!” “Now Googy has to slap hisself as well!”, Bunny squealed. Googy sighed but did his punishment.

Meanwhile the Gryffindor common room was cheering the Malignant Magpies who had provided such splendid food for all. “How did you manage to get into the kitchen?”, Brian Cullen asked with his mouth full of biscuits. “That’s our little secret”, Patience laughed. It really was fun to sometimes give the whole of Gryffindor a little feast! “I like those icing tarts”, Mike Flatley stated. “Yeah, and if you eat too much you won’t be in the Quidditch team for long!”, Oliver Wood said reproachfully – which failed completely because he himself, the Quidditch captain, was munching a fruit pastry. The rest of the team laughed heartily at him. Oliver tried to keep up his countenance. But at last he also burst into laughter, spraying the bystanders with little pieces of pastry. “Dear, dear, I really have to look after you”, his sister sighed and motherly wiped his chin. “You’re undermining my authority!”, Oliver complained jokingly. “She’s doing that with everyone, I fear”, Hengist Alret threw in helpfully. “Even with Snape!”, Nelly added. “That simply fails”, Patience said sadly.

“No, you and Anne manage pretty well”, Hengist grinned nastily. “I’d love to play a trick on Snape!” “I’d love to play a trick on Madam Hooch, that’ll be much safer!”, Brian said, shuddering. “And much more boring”, Anne told him. The Gryffindors around agreed to that. “You won’t dare to play an open trick to Snape”, Ghewyn said, her eyes wide open in excitement. “You will bet on that?”, Hengist asked her challengingly. Ghewyn looked at her friends Nelly and Catherine. “Yes, we’ll bet on that!”, she said, crossing her arms. Brian and Mike joined the girls. “Show us, Malignant Magpies, and let it be pretty good”, Mike said. Hengist, Anne and Patience nodded. “Okay. Time limit?”, Anne wanted to know. “A week. Until then either you’re done in or Snape is devastated”, Brian put down the rules. “Okay”, Hengist agreed. “What is it we bet about?”, Catherine asked carefully. “A week of preparing potions ingredients. Either we three for you or you five for us”, Patience suggested. “How will you explain to Snape?”, Nelly enquired, grinning. “Do not worry about that, we’ll manage that”, Anne said loftily. But when the five challengers had joined other groups, the Malignant Magpies weren’t that sure anymore they would be successful. “I think we’re in big trouble”, Patience summed it up.

The three Slytherins were plotting something to make things a lot worse. They were thinking about going down into the kitchen at night and upsetting the elves there severely. The only bigger difficulty was getting past their house teacher who was known to have night-time strolls through the castle. “Maybe we tell him one of us is sick. I could beat Banks into his stomach, then he’s really sick”, Cook proposed, rubbing his knuckles threateningly. “Idiot!”, Vargas the mastermind hissed. “That would bring us only up into the Hospital Wing but not down into the kitchen!” But Banks, the victim to be, cut in: “Ramon, that might be okay. Not the part of hitting me. But what if Madam Pomfrey sends one of us for chocolate?” “Yeah, and Snape comes with us, great idea!”, Vargas snapped. That night they didn’t come up with a plan.

It really was unfortunate that both the Slytherin as well as the Gryffindor trios were up to mischief. Though their aims were quite different, their means were startlingly similar. The Slytherins had in the early morning agreed on both upsetting the elves with instructing Peeves to sing a new song and getting Snape on the trail of the Gryffindors. Meanwhile the Gryffindors had planned to set some house elves to work for Snape, which, they knew perfectly well, would annoy him to no end. Being cared for exclusively would be worse than being left alone like a prisoner at Azkaban. So both groups of students made their way downstairs in the afternoon when lessons had ended.

The Gryffindors were first to arrive. “Hallo, all of you!”, Hengist greeted the elves friendly. They immediately began setting a table, when Anne stopped them. “No, not today, but thank you very much. We have a commission for some of you.” The elves’ ears quivered in anticipation. “Who are the most reliable of you most reliable creatures?”, Patience asked carefully. Googy shovelled forward. “Miss, that would be Bunny and Milly, Miss”, she said eagerly. Bunny and Milly came towards them and bowed. “Fine. Thank you, Googy.” Googy was happy to hear the students had remembered her name. “Bunny, Milly, you do know Professor Severus Snape?”, Anne asked the two small elves. They nodded. “Yes Miss. The professor is the one with the black robes, i’n’t he?”, Bunny squealed. Anne nodded, grinning mischievously. Hengist smiled. “Yes, he is. We want to do him a favour, but he must not get to know it was us, you understand?” The elves nodded happily.

“We want you two to care for him. Serve him tea early in the morning so that he can have it in bed, lay warm stones at the foot of his bed in the evening, drop in occasionally to see if he wants something…”, Patience explained the order. The elves nodded again. “We is happy to help you!”, said Bunny. “Then why don’t you begin tonight?”, Hengist proposed. The elves promised to take care of Snape. The Malignant Magpies left the kitchen and grinned. “We’ve done it! A week will be enough to unnerve him completely!”, Patience predicted in true Trelawney-manner.

The Slytherins pressed themselves in a niche not to be seen. “Wonder what they wanted down here again”, Banks murmured when the Magpies had passed them without noticing them. Vargas shrugged impatiently. “We’ve got more urgent things to do.” They didn’t enter the kitchen at once but waited apparently for something. “Waiting for old Peevesey?”, an unpleasant voice asked from above. “His Bloodiness told me you wanted me?” The three students looked at Peeves the poltergeist. “Yes”, Cook grunted. Vargas made him shut up with an angry glare. “Yes”, he said clearly. “Do you sing songs to annoy people sometimes?” “You know I do, Villain Vargas”, Peeves sneered. Vargas ignored the last words and went on: “Can you make up a song to annoy the house elves?” Peeves did a somersault in midair. “Course I can!”, he cackled delightedly. “The elves said to themselves: We like the calves and the wives with scarves and knives the whole of our lives!”

“And that will annoy the elves?”, Banks asked doubtingly. “Course it will”, Peeves retorted. “Can’t do anything else, reminds them of muggle fairytales about helping little elves. They’ll hate it, I promise!” “Hope for you it’ll work”, Vargas said threateningly. “Or else we’ll set the Bloody Baron on your heels and make sure you’re thrown out of the castle!” Peeves stuck out his tongue and floated through the wall into the kitchen. They heard him perform his song. “Okay. And by that time tomorrow we will hint to Snape we had seen the Malignant Magpies plotting things with Peeves. The Baron will see to it he won’t give us away”, Vargas smiled nastily. Banks and Cook chuckled grimly.

When Severus Snape returned to his rooms in the evening, after a thoroughly nasty day full of almost exploded cauldrons and cheeky students, he didn’t trust his eyes. Someone had tidied up – very thoroughly. His desk was cleared so that, had he desired to do so, he had enough space to write on. But where were his notes for the next day? He knew he had placed them on top of the heap of notes on his desk so that he might find them at once. He sighed, throwing his robe over a chair and set to look for the lost notes. He was very angry, and when it knocked at the door, he snapped even more unfriendly than ever. In came a tiny house-elf with a tray. “Sir, I’s bring you tea and biscuits!”, the elf squealed. “Go away!”, Snape told it and shovelled it out of the door. “But sir, in’t you happy? We’s tidied up!” That made Snape positively put the elf out of doors. How dared these little beasts! Tidy up his rooms! He had given an order never to walk into his rooms unless asked to do so! In a very furious mood the potions master went to bed.

In the morning the students sat down to breakfast in the Great Hall. But what an ugly surprise they had when the food that turned up was burnt porridge, over salted scrambled eggs, blackened toast and salty marmalade! Even the juice, tea and milk had a funny taste. “Urgh! That’s like having nasty Every Flavour Beans for breakfast!”, Oliver complained, pushing his plate away. Hengist Alret was carefully trying a bit of the egg. His face told the whole table not to follow his example. “What are the elves up to?”, Patience asked her friends very quietly. Anne shrugged. “Can’t be our orders. That seemed to positively please them!” “I think I shall go and ask!”, Patience suggested and was almost off her seat, when a dark shade passed the table. “Already finished?”, Snape hissed. Patience blushed. She opened her mouth to warn him, but Hengist kicked her under the table and she closed her mouth again. Snape walked to the teacher’s table. “He looks even more sour than usual”, Anne sighed. “And we have practical lessons today!” “Yeah, but we also have weekend thereafter!”, Patience tried to cheer up her friend. “Not really, we have Herbology and Charms in the afternoon”, Anne corrected her. Hengist grinned. “That is weekend, my dear”, he mildly scolded. “But I have Ancient Runes now, and that is definitely no weekend!”, Patience set an end to the discussion.

Hengist and Anne lingered behind. As neither of them had Ancient Runes they had a free lesson now. “I wonder what is wrong with the elves”, Hengist said to himself. “I think we should go down and ask, what do you think?”, Anne suggested. Hengist agreed. They walked through the great hall and into the antechamber from where one could get into the kitchen. Perfectly sure no one had watched them, they walked without listening for steps behind them.

As only Vargas had Ancient Runes – in which he was horrible -, Banks and Cook had taken to watching the Malignant Magpies. They followed them to the kitchen. Anne tickled the pear and the door handle appeared. She opened the door. “Oh, Miss, we is so sad!”, one tiny elf greeted her. “What has happened?”, Anne immediately asked. Hengist looked around. The elves all were looking very distressed, some were busy cleaning away broken dishes, some were trying to fry bacon but only managed to burn it. “Urgh!”, Hengist made promptly. “Who has done that?” Anne grinned at him. “I’ve got the answer, Sherlock Alret”, she said. “Peeves!” “Never!”, Hengist said shocked. “But sir, it is true, I’s swear it!”, Googy protested. “Well, Googy, I do believe it was Peeves, but he would never do it of his own!”, Hengist explained to the chief house elf. Googy sighed, sniffing a little. “I knows, but who is behind it?” Hengist smiled. “What if we look into these matters, and you try to calm down a little?” Googy began to wail again. “But sir, you is too gentle!” Hengist awkwardly patted Googy’s shoulder. That gesture made the elf wail even louder. “Come, Hengist, we have to see who is lurking around here – except of us!”, Anne helped her friend.

They left the kitchen. “Oh no!”, Anne whispered. She had seen a black cloak vanish upstairs. “What?”, Hengist asked lowly. “Someone has been here as well”, Anne answered, sneaking upstairs to try and catch a glimpse of the intruder. “Of course!”, she breathed. Hengist tried to look over her shoulder but it was too late. Whoever had been there had vanished completely. “Who was it?”, he asked eagerly. Anne shrugged. “Someone with a Slytherin coat of arms. Guess who!” “Must be a Slytherin”, Hengist joked weakly. Anne only gave him a disdainful look. “Okay, Banks, Cook, Vargas… the usual culprits!” “Right you are, Sherlock Alret!”, Anne giggled. Hengist rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Say, want to call me that all my life now?” “No, Hengist, but it’s simply funny!”, Anne grinned. Together they walked up to Gryffindor to fetch their bags for the next lesson – Transfiguration. They were already waiting in front of the classroom, when Patience came around the corner. ”Vargas is an idiot!”, she called out. “Tell me something new!”, Anne said bored. “We had to do some transcriptions today, and he…” “Stop!”, Anne called out, raising her hands defiantly. “Why?”, Patience asked startled. “Because we have really important news”, Anne told her pompously. “These news will have to wait, Miss Symmons. In, please!”, McGonagall sternly commanded. Unfortunately, there were only three seats left – next to John King. Patience pushed Hengist into the seat directly next to the Hufflepuff student, but Anne had already seated herself at the far end. Patience frowned and sat down. In her opinion being the second next to John King was far too near.

Today they should transfigure a hedgehog into a bludger. “Ha! A Quidditch task!”, Patience whispered delighted. Anne groaned, but a glance from McGonagall stopped her from saying anything. It was really funny to see John King trying in vain to transfigure anything. “I wonder if he has the right wand”, Hengist murmured. Patience and Anne giggled. Patience couldn’t resist transfiguring John’s shoelaces into worms. John only recognized it when the worms began to wriggle free and some took the way up into his trouser legs. He gave a short shout that attracted McGonagall’s attention. “Mr King, just how do you manage transfiguring your shoelaces when you are supposed to transfigure the hedgehog? Miss Symmons and Miss Wood have already retransfigured their bludger into a hedgehog!” That was true. Hengist also had managed to form a perfect bludger. Anne carefully asked the teacher: “Professor, this isn’t the usual way to make bludgers? I mean, the Snitch was originally a bird, so maybe hedgehogs were bludgers?” McGonagall shook her head. “No, the original bludgers were stones, Miss Symmons. Be assured we won’t use any of these bludgers in a Quidditch match!”

“And how will we see if they are really transfigured?”, Patience asked curiously. Anne glared at her. “You wouldn’t want to beat a hedger over the field!”, she said threateningly. “Calm down, I won’t. But how else will we test them, professor?” “The needle trick”, McGonagall explained. “You will poke them with a needle. A really well transfigured bludger wouldn’t move at all. A … hedger, as Miss Symmons calls them, will squeak or cringe.” Anne looked relieved, and Patience hardly could control her grin. “Hedgers, really”, she whispered, giving her wand a wave and making her quivering hedgehog a bludger again. “Do you have a needle, Anne?” Anne shook her head. “Oh, well, okay”, Patience sighed, waving her wand again. Anne giggled delighted. John King’s pencil was a shining silvery needle by now. Before he could see it, however, Patience had Summoned the pencil-needle. She poked her bludger which didn’t react at all. “Here, try it”, she encouraged Anne. Her bludger didn’t give a squeak as well. By that time John King had noticed his pencil had gone. “Oops”, Patience grinned and made the needle fly back again – just in time. She hadn’t had time, though, to retransfigure it. Professor McGonagall sighed. “Mr King, just how do you manage transfiguring your pencil so often, but never the object you are supposed to transfigure?”

After this nice hour of Transfiguration, Patience and Anne walked slowly down to the dungeons. It was as usual chilly cold there. “Practical lessons, and I’m sure Snape’s robes will be neatly ironed this morning”, Hengist grinned. “But his mood was extremely tetchy”, Anne mused. Patience snorted. “Tell me something new!”, she said. They swung their backs onto three tables in the last row. “Well, we did Forgetfulness Potions in the last theoretical lesson, didn’t we?”, Ghewyn asked, looking around for a reassuring face. Patience nodded soothingly. “Yes. Did you forget?”, she couldn’t help asking. Ghewyn grimaced but smiled nevertheless. The door was still closed. “Heyday, Snape is late – maybe ill!”, Hengist said hopefully.

But just when Anne was about to answer, the door burst open. Snape rushed in, his black robes swivelling around him. “Begin instantly with brewing your Forgetfulness Potion!”, he ordered in his most dangerous, most calm voice. Patience drew in her breath slowly. “Okay, maybe we should give counter orders”, she said under her breath. “Miss Wood! No talking!”, Snape snapped at once. He paced through the class, making most students nervous. And then it happened: someone knocked at the door. When Snape beckoned the person in, it was a tiny house elf. “I is to bring you some tea. You is being nervous this morning, sir!”, it squealed. The class seemed ready to burst into laughter, but when Snape grabbed the elf at the neck and put it out literally, shattering the tea mug in this action, they suppressed their urge quickly. “Now I would like to know who is responsible for this behaviour?”, Snape asked calmly. No one dared to stir.

“Miss Wood?”, Snape spat. “Sir?”, Patience asked in return. “What do you know about House Elves?” “Oh, well… They are useful little creatures, happy to help anyone who is in need of help. They do not want to be paid. In fact they consider that as a disgrace. But, sir, are they useful in potions? I can’t remember any recipe…” “Silence, you silly girl!”, Snape hissed. “You know a lot about House Elves, don’t you, Miss Wood?” “But she doesn’t know everything!”, Roland Banks burst out. Hengist and Anne exchanged a quick glance. “Mr Banks?”, Snape asked dangerously. “House Elves are easily to be upset!”, Banks declared boldly, ignoring the shocked sounds from Vargas and Cook.

The Malignant Magpies grinned. That was better than expected. Maybe they shouldn’t give counter orders but wait what would happen next. Unfortunately, Snape had this blind spot for Slytherins. He left Roland’s knowledge uncommented and proceeded with the lesson in a very tetchy way. “That’s so unfair!”, Patience burst out when the Malignant Magpies had hardly left the dungeon. “What is?”, Hengist enquired, stuffing Mungus the toad impatiently between his spell book and the quills. “He asks me wherefore I know so much about House Elves and never asked Banks a word!” Anne grinned. “As if it had ever been different!”, she sighed dramatically. “But what do we do now? I mean, we can leave it safely to Banks to be the culprit, can’t we?” Patience’s face was still clouded. “Only if Snape reacts”, she reminded her friend dully.

They walked up to the classroom where Kettleburn held his Care of Magical Creatures lessons. “I wonder what we’re doing today”, Anne mused, throwing her bag with a loud clunk onto the table. “What have you got in there?”, Hengist asked. “Sounds as if you are carrying bricks with you!” “No”, Anne replied, “not bricks but books. I have to go to the library after this lesson and return them, or Madam Pince will skin me alive!” Patience hadn’t had a chance to reply for Kettleburn had arrived.

In his only remaining hand he held a cage in which something resembling a large lobster lay motionless. “Oh, a lobster. Now I know what’s for lunch!”, Mike Flatley whispered audibly and made the class snigger. Kettleburn turned to him, his scarred face contorted into a smile. “Got bets running, Flatley?”, he asked briskly. “Er… yes, sir”, Mike said. Patience grinned and nudged Anne who had started to giggle violently. “Then I advise you not to eat the flesh of this.” Kettleburn opened the cage and took the creature out. “This is a Mackled Malaclaw. It is a land-dwelling creature found mostly on rocky coastlines in Europe. You really shouldn’t eat it, for it will cause high fever.” “But, sir, why shouldn’t I eat it when I have bets running?”, Mike asked perplexed. “Right, Flatley. This beast here is prone to bite and when it does so, it’ll make you highly unlucky for some time, so every bet will turn against you.” Kettleburn hadn’t noticed his argumentation was a bit out of way. “He’s definitely growing old”, Hengist hissed. Mike nodded.

The Malaclaw raised its head. It wasn’t a pretty creature at all. Light grey with deep green spots and the looks of a lobster it was fit to make Catherine and Nelly draw back in disgust. “You will be proud to take care of some Malaclaws for the next week. Before you start doing so, I advise you to look for every bit of useful information you can find. The group with the largest and best-looking Malaclaw will get top marks!”, Kettleburn announced. “Take care of that and make it look good?”, Anne mouthed. “We could transform it into a Niffler, that would at least look good”, Hengist joked. Kettleburn called: “Silence!” Instantly the class fell silent again. “Wear your gloves every time you deal with the Malaclaw. And now I will make groups of four.” Kettleburn strolled through the room and counted students.

Patience did the same a lot quicker and groaned. “Guess what? We’ll have Sebastian Cook in our group!” Cook had realized the same on Vargas’ hint and tried frantically to change his place, but it was too late. “Oh, I’d love to feed him to the Malaclaw, but unfortunately it likes only small crustaceans!”, Anne whispered. Hengist and Patience had to hide their laughter quickly. After the lesson, Anne hurried towards the library and Patience and Hengist waited in front of the door for her. They were talking in low voices when suddenly a huge black shadow fell over them. It was Snape. “Now what would two young Gryffindors such as yourselves be doing inside on a day like this?”, he asked. Patience was for once lost for words, but Hengist wasn’t. “Waiting for Anne Symmons who is in the library, and then we’re going to lunch, and if we have time after that we will be certain to enjoy the sun”, he told the teacher. “You want to be careful”, Snape spat, “people will think that you’re… up to something!” And he went away, his cloak billowing after him. “Oh dear, he means he will think we’re up to something, but that isn’t true, we never cared so much for him as we do this year”, Patience giggled. Hengist shrugged. “He won’t ever know, for I’m pretty sure we win the bet and the Slytherins take all the blame!”

Failure?

Their fellow Gryffindor students seemed to think much the same. Mike Flatley was spotted counting the money he and the others had bet. “Snape was mad, alright, and they managed it in one week. One thing, though, upsets me: Why is the food so horrible since we started this bet?”, Brian asked. Hengist took the money, grinning. “Never mind, that is certainly not our fault.” “Miss Alret, you only get the money if the food gets better”, Mike threatened. “Hey! I just told you: That wasn’t our work. And I’d bet again that we won’t even take the blame for the Snape-thing!” Hengist wasn’t giving away the money any more. When they walked downstairs for dinner, they found Snape standing at the door. “The food is bad, and the reception guy is worse”, Hengist joked. Patience grimaced only whereas Anne giggled. “You three, stay here”, Snape barked when the Malignant Magpies wanted to enter. Mike motioned to Hengist he wanted the money back if things got worse, but Hengist didn’t react. Snape eyed them as if they were especially ugly specimen of insects. And when the three Slytherins wanted to pass him with a fake-friendly greeting, they were stopped as well. “In there!”, Snape snarled, opening the door of a small chamber next to the Hall.

He waited until they were all inside and the door was closed. Then he spoke: “I want to know who set the elves on me and upset them so badly. Professor Dumbledore has had to talk to them the whole night to make them feel better again, and it will take a few days I fear until the usual high standard is reached again.” He eyed the students in front of him sternly. The Slytherins were exchanging bold glances and sneers, but the Malignant Magpies sat motionless. “So?”, Snape spat. Patience raised her hand as if she were in class. Snape nodded towards her. “Don’t those who upset the elves need to get into the kitchen?”, she enquired. Snape nodded again. “Well, I don’t know how to get in there!”

That was a downright lie, and everyone in the room knew that. But there was no possibility to prove it wrong. They needn’t do that, for Sebastian Cook spoke up: “That’s clear, because Gryffindors are too dumb to know just to tickle the pear!” That was better than any of the Malignant Magpies could have expected. Vargas was looking furious but he couldn’t reproach Cook without making things worse. Banks wasn’t as wise and hissed “Shut up!” Snape smiled unpleasantly. “So obviously you three know the way into the kitchen. I see you only wanted to please me with the help assigned to me, but it failed, I’m afraid. That you upset the elves is the most stupid thing you could do. We will talk about that in my office later.” Then the teacher turned to the Gryffindors. “You are not guilty – this time”, he admitted, though it seemed it cost him a lot to say that. “Go!” Hengist, Anne and Patience left the chamber quickly. “Great! They really take the blame for all the things we did! I don’t know how to get into the kitchen – honestly!”, Anne laughed. Patience shrugged. “It worked, didn’t it?”

Fire-Flies

“I’ve found something for you, Anne,” Patience said, her nose buried in a volume about death omens. “You’re reading crap,” Anne said good-naturedly. Patience grinned. “No, I’m doing my homework for Trelawney. I’m doing a bit of extra reading as my last prediction was abysmal.” “What was it?” Anne enquired curiously. Hengist fell into the only free seat at their table, accidentally flattening a roll of parchment. “She said that Hufflepuff would win the next match.” Anne stared incredulously at Patience who only shrugged. “I thought it might be a good idea.” “And now you’ve ended up with doing extra reading,” Anne said. “That’s right. Now, do you want to know or not?” Patience was clearly getting annoyed. Anne nodded. “Tell me.” “It’s something to tell ickle firsties, in a way,” Patience grinned. Hengist shook his head. “You should leave them alone, girls,” he advised. “We should. It might also be nice to just tell some of our class,” Patience giggled. “I’ll read it to you, here…”

The next day, the Magpies were considerably less concentrated than usual on their studies. That led to a severe lecture by Hunter Preston, who glared at Anne accusingly. “Would you care to keep your thoughts on this subject? It is vital to know what kilpas are doing!” “Attack ships?” Anne retorted. Preston groaned. “Yes and no, Miss Symmons. Yes, Miss Wood?” “Kilpas are sea-beasts, with a human face but a fish body, fierce and dangerous, but they attack only if provoked and the occasional careless ship,” Patience said. Preston was secretly angry that the answer was right, so he found something to criticise: “Partly correct, as usual. Kilpas attack even unprovoked, but they can be kept at bay by special incantations.” Patience frowned. Where was the difference to what she had said? She was just about to ask Preston when Anne’s foot gently touched hers. Patience looked at her friend who was slightly shaking her head. Hengist also cleared his throat warningly, so she kept her tongue.

Muggle Studies turned out to be a real torment that day. Even though Emerson Dicket did his best to teach his class the use of telephones, he did not really catch their interest. “Really, you lot, what do you think Muggles use to communicate?” Dicket finally asked. “Letters?” Mike suggested. “Talking over the fence with Mrs Next-Door,” Nelly offered. Dicket nodded. “Just so – as we do. And what else? They can’t simply stick their head into their fireplaces and talk via floo powder, can they?” “No,” chimed the whole class.

“Very well. That’s where the telephone comes in. You can talk over long distances, and the voice of…” “You can’t see who you’re talking to?” Brian interrupted Dicket eagerly. “No – that is, I have heard there is something like a picture phone, where you can also see the other,” Dicket replied patiently. “Anyway, the usual phone simply enables to talk and listen. Some people love it, some use it rarely – it depends.” “Does it hurt or something?” Catherine wanted to know. “Oh, dumbhead, they couldn’t use it longer then,” Mike groaned. Catherine scowled at him. “Mike, that was unfair, and no, Catherine, it does not hurt. There might be, well, slight disturbances in the line. They don’t hurt. They just annoy.” “You feel nothing while phoning?” Anne asked carefully. “No, Anne, that’s absolutely right.” “Then it’s better than floo powder,” Patience decided. “Why that?” Hengist asked surprised. “Floo powder tickles and you have to sneeze and get covered with soot – no such complications seem to be implied in the use of a fellytone,” Patience explained. “Telephone!” Dicket thundered, making Patience jump. “Telephone,” she repeated dutifully and was relieved when Dicket turned to the whole class again. “You see, communication in muggle ways can be as ingenious as our ways. After all, muggles had to learn how to get along without magic.” At that moment the bell sounded announcing the end of lesson number three.

“How long?” Hengist asked his friends. Anne groaned. “Too long,” she answered. “Well, folks, that’s the way it is. Hurry up, Flitwick will be waiting for us!” Patience told the others and led the way to the Charms classroom. Fortunately, Charms passed pleasantly with a revision of Cheering Charms, leaving the whole class with a bright smile and a slightly heady feeling for lunch.

After lunch, however, things were not as pleasant. They had their theoretical Potions lesson, and Snape seemed determined to torture them. He had chosen the most complicated potion the fifth years had ever seen. “It’s disgusting,” Anne stated after copying the list of ingredients. Patience, not yet finished, looked up. “There are only herbs so far,” she wondered. “Look, Anne, it’s simply mixing hyoscyamus niger, mandrake powder, oil of belladonna, some shredded datura and some aconite – so what?” “Read on,” Anne simply replied. Patience wrote on and soon saw what her friend had been talking of. “Disgusting!” she hissed. Hengist nodded. “Urine of a pig and dried pig blood – where did he get this recipe from?” “A book on the Dark Arts, undoubtedly,” Anne said under her breath and earned a reproving glance from Patience.

“Have you copied the ingredients?” Snape asked, looking around, then erasing the list with a flick of his wand and making new words appear on the blackboard. “Stir the mixture in water, boil it for three hours, pour it through a sieve and keep it in a bottle,” Hengist read out, shaking his head. “The question remains, for what is this meant?” Anne said calmly. Snape caught her words. “Miss Symmons, we will come to that,” he assured her with a sneer. When all students had also copied the instruction, Snape nodded. “We shall now find out if you can think of some use for this potion. Let us begin with the single herbs. Yes, Miss Rhys?”

“Hyoscyamus niger will be used if you want to drive a person crazy,” Ghewyn said. Snape nodded. “As usual, Miss Rhys, your answer is but half correct. Anyone else to offer the other half?” Three hands shot in the air: Vargas, Patience and Justus Gordon of Slytherin were trying to get Snape’s attention. “Gordon?” the professor said. Patience dropped her hand and shrugged. “This herb is also meant to make one feel light-headed,” Gordon replied smugly. “Exactly. Take a point for Slytherin,” Snape acknowledged. “To the other herbs, then, please.”

Again Patience tried, and again she lost, this time against Nelly Dean. “Mandrake is used in many ways. It can be used as a healing potion for petrified persons, but if you take a bit more, then you will get a powerful sleeping potion,” Nelly explained. Snape grudgingly had to grant Gryffindor a point as well. The uses of datura – a hallucinatory drug, very poisonous – and belladonna – which counterworked these effects nicely – were delivered by Slytherin students. That left only aconite. Patience tried for the fifth time, and this time Snape thought it was time to stop ignoring her. “Aconite, also known as Monkshood or Wolfsbane, is used in potions that shall keep werewolves at bay, but can also be highly dangerous. The root is especially poisonous and falls under the restrictions issued by the Ministry of Magic. Except in grave cases of danger from a werewolf bite it is never to be administered, and even then only by experts,” Patience began, and relished seeing Snape’s eyes glint maliciously. She knew he hated it when students told him that much about a plant. “The leaves, however, are less toxic though by no means easy to administer. The dose must be small in any way, so not to kill the one the potion is meant for. Aconite leaves will be used for transformation potions,” Patience finished. “Yes, Miss Wood, good you found an end to your lecture,” Snape said acidly.

Of course Gryffindor received no credit for this, but neither had Snape a chance to criticise the answer. “Now we repeated herb lore, can anyone tell me what this potion is meant for, and why we also need pig’s urine and blood?” Snape asked. He folded his arms, expecting the blank stares of all the class. However, two students looked as if they had an idea. Ramon Vargas looked at the professor, tentatively raised his hand, and, at a nod from Snape, ventured: “It might be what is commonly known as Circe’s Potion, a transformation potion used for animal transformation. As one needs the blood and urine of the beast one changes into, this must be pig transformation.” “Yes, Mr Vargas, very good indeed. Can it be used on humans?” Vargas had no answer, but Patience did: “No, it can’t. It was believed that the Greek witch Circe used this on Odysseus and his men, but that is nonsense – the problem with this potion is that it cannot be undone easily.”

“Correct.” Snape considered the matter, then said: “Five points to Slytherin.” An outraged hissing from the Gryffindor part of the class did not disturb the professor and evoked only sneers and smiles from the Slytherins. “You will learn these ingredients by heart. We shall brew it next time,” Snape told the class. “You may leave.”

“May leave! We should have gotten ten points at least. May leave – the bell’s sounded long ago!” Brian raged outside. “Keep cool – it’s Snape, what did you expect?” Patience asked ironically, although she was enraged as well. “It can’t get any worse,” Anne glumly stated.

She was right. Flying proved to very relaxing after the potions lesson and this was only good. Madam Hooch made them practise flying low over tree tops, and even dive into cover to avoid curious muggles. Anne, who hated flying even more than Snape, managed to stay on her broom, whereas Hengist and Patience raced each other through the branches. The result was a broad scratch on Hengist’s cheek and a lot of dry leaves and needles in Patience’s hair.

Then it was finally time for Divination. Anne regretted a little not having chosen that subject, but then thought better of it: she could at least start the essay on the French court astrologist Nostradamus that Binns had set for them. Patience and Hengist had seated themselves on their usual puffs fairly in the back of class, both positively quivering with anticipation. The problem with this idea was that it depended wholly on Catherine’s liking for gossip. For about the hundredth time, Patience whispered: “There’s nothing as reliable as Cathy’s love for telling secrets!” Hengist nodded, but was hindered from replying by the entrance of Professor Trelawney, announced by the faint tinkling of her various chains and bracelets. “In comes the opera queen,” Brian murmured, causing the others around him to grin broadly.

“Welcome, my dears. Now, what animals gifted with foresight or otherworldly abilities did you find in the book I told you to read?” Trelawney asked, gazing around through her glittering spectacles. Patience cleared her throat to draw the professor’s attention. “Yes, love?” “I’ve read about fire-flies,” Patience said, looking around apologetically. Trelawney nodded. “What a wise choice. Go on, love.” “Well, as everybody knows there are green fire-flies and red fire-flies. The green ones are absolutely harmless, but if stunned can be used for illumination at garden parties,” Patience reported.

Hengist had to dive under the table to retrieve his pencil to cover his laughter. Garden party decoration, honestly! “The red guys, however, are very dangerous. They have the ability of ensnaring the one who sees them, luring him away from company and leading him into certain death,” Patience finished. Awed silence greeted her words. “This is correct, Miss Wood. I am pleased with this. Who else has such an animal?” But the class was not that easily distracted from the fire-flies. Trelawney was suddenly faced with excited questions about death omens.

“What about the Grim?” Brian asked. “Yes, that is the most common death omen – and I am sad to say that it was what my tea leaves spelled the night before poor Professor Binns left his earthly shroud,” the professor answered. Hengist snorted. “If she saw a Grim, I’m to be King of England in a year.” “Well, divination is easy once the event has come to pass,” Patience retorted smiling nastily.

The lesson would have been a very frightening one, leaving the class with so many death omens to be aware of that everyone should drop dead in a matter of seconds, if Patience and Hengist had not been prepared for this and had laughed a lot about such omens. Most of the class reacted in the same way. But Ghewyn, Nelly and Catherine were very silent that evening. When all of the others had gone to bed, the three sneaked out of the Common Room.

It was well past eleven, and the corridors were deserted – which was fortunate. The air was chilly outside, but that did not matter much. “Look, there’s the first fire-fly,” Nelly pointed out. It was a green one, buzzing harmlessly past the three girls. They walked a little until they reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. The fire-flies had grown more numerous around here, buzzing around and emitting a faint green light – until Ghewyn suddenly shrieked: “There! Look!”

With wide eyes and full of terror the three watched a red fire-fly make its way steadily towards them, pushing through its green companions. It was buzzing just as the others did, but to Ghewyn’s ears it was calling to her, summoning her into the Forest. “Let’s go,” she said, and tugged at Nelly’s sleeve. Nelly seemed rooted to the spot, unable to move in her fear. “Nelly, please,” Catherine moaned, trying to drag Nelly with her. Still the girl did not move. Nelly stood as still as a statue, while the fire-fly settled on her nose. The part of Ghewyn’s mind that was still able to think told her this must tickle – but Nelly showed no reaction.

“Oh dear, something happened to her!” she said panicking. “Maybe she died?” Catherine said, her eyes filling with tears. “No – she’d have fallen then. Death cannot make you that rigid. It’s a severe shock, more likely,” Ghewyn thought aloud. At that moment Nelly slowly began to sway, then fell with a loud thud onto her face. Both Catherine and Ghewyn shrieked. Ghewyn bent down to turn Nelly around. The girl’s eyes were open but stared into nothingness. It was a horrible sight, and suddenly the two others became aware of the rustling in the Forest and the distant howling.

“What can we do?” Catherine asked, wringing her hands in despair. “Take her to the castle – what if a werewolf comes?” Ghewyn replied, although she knew that they would never be able to carry Nelly by themselves. “We need help,” she said. She looked around. The castle was a long way off, and it wouldn’t be the best idea anyway to call a teacher – or maybe it was? If Nelly was dead, how should they explain the look of terror on her face if she was supposed to have died in her sleep? “I will go to Hagrid’s hut. You must stay with Nelly,” Ghewyn finally resolved and marched off before Catherine had the chance to say she was too afraid to stay alone with a corpse in a full moon night.

It took some time until the combined noise of Ghewyn banging against the front door and Fang barking and howling roused Hagrid. The gamekeeper opened the door and looked at Ghewyn with amazement. “Blimey, Ghewyn, what are ye doin’ ‘ere?” “Hagrid, oh, please come, Nelly is dead,” Ghewyn said and suddenly burst into tears. Hagrid awkwardly patted her shoulder, which made Ghewyn feel as if she was a nail driven into the earth. “Now, tell me where she is,” Hagrid said. “No, better wait fer me, I’ll come with yer.”

He took his crossbow and told Fang to accompany them. Catherine looked deeply relieved when she saw Hagrid’s massive, reassuring figure appear. Nelly’s state had not changed. Hagrid bent down, handing Ghewyn the crossbow, and touched Nelly’s throat gently. “She’s not dead, that’s clear,” he said, sounding just as relieved as the two girls felt. “She’s been petrified.” Hagrid straightened up. “Now, come with me, we’ll take ‘er to Dumbledore.” The giant cradled Nelly gently in his arms as if she was a doll, and Catherine and Ghewyn followed them towards the castle.

Hagrid carried his light burden into the Hospital Wing, then went off to wake the headmaster. Madam Pomfrey glanced at Nelly. “I’m afraid I can’t do anything for her until the headmaster has seen her. But you two look as if you could do with some hot chocolate.” The nurse bustled off and returned with two steaming mugs of chocolate when Dumbledore entered. The headmaster examined Nelly without speaking, then turned to the other two, fixing them with his bright blue eyes. “And how did that happen?” Ghewyn told their story, looking deeply ashamed. “Red fire-flies?” Dumbledore asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Ah yes. I assure you they are nothing but a different variant of their kind. They, as the Grim, are reported to be death omens, but let me tell you that most death omens only work as such because of the terror they inspire, and not because of themselves.”

Ghewyn and Catherine hung their heads. “What has befallen your friend is easy to say: a spell. I wonder who performed that spell. I have already sent Hagrid to look for traces. Have you seen anything?” “No – just the fire-flies,” Catherine replied. “But there was a lot of rustling in the Forest,” Ghewyn added. Dumbledore smiled. “There is bound to be rustling in a forest, even were it not inhabited by so many creatures.” He turned to Madam Pomfrey. “With your permission, I will do the counter-spell,” he said. The nurse nodded her consent. Dumbledore flicked his wand at Nelly, murmuring something, and suddenly Nelly stirred. She blinked, then rubbed her eyes and sat up.

“What… where am I?” she asked. “You are in the Hospital Wing, Miss Dean. Someone has stunned you very effectively,” Dumbledore explained kindly. Nelly seemed to remember what had happened before and blushed. “Oh no,” she said miserably. “Oh no? Ah. Yes, you were outside when you were supposed to be in bed, but I think you have already suffered enough. Do not fear additional punishment,” Dumbledore smiled. The three girls exchanged relieved glances. “Miss Dean, did you see anyone who could have performed the spell?”

There was no need to answer. Much to Madam Pomfrey’s chagrin Hagrid pushed the door wide open, making it crash against the wall, leading inside three familiar figures. “I found these lurking outside, headmaster,” he informed Dumbledore proudly. Dumbledore looked at the three students sternly. “So. Mr Vargas, Mr Banks and Mr Cook – again you are in the middle of a very unpleasant affair.” The three Slytherins looked down.

“What did you think you were doing outside?” “We were trying to find some moon herb, sir,” Vargas reported truthfully. “And then we saw these three and thought it a good joke to shock them.” “You shocked them a bit too thoroughly, Mr Vargas,” Dumbledore sternly told them. “I will talk to your Head of House who will doubtless find the appropriate punishment.” The headmaster looked at the Gryffindor girls. “Now, all of you, to bed. Miss Dean, you had better stay here for tonight.” Dumbledore waited until the other five students had left the ward, then left himself with Hagrid. Red fire-flies! He should remember to tell Sybil Trelawney not to teach death omens.

Slicing and Frying with Sprout and Flitwick

After the horrible experience with the spoilt food, an announcement in the Gryffindor common room attracted much attention. “Sprout and Flitwick are starting a Cooking Club!” Catherine read aloud, grinning. “I’d love to take part.” “Me, too,” Ghewyn said. John Smith also signed the list next to the announcement readily. Brian and Mike, laughing, signed as well – but the Magpies remained doubtful. “I’m no good with plants,” Anne reminded her friends. “Those plants are dead anyway. I hope,” Hengist replied. Patience walked over to the notice board. “It does sound like fun to me – and maybe I can really learn something useful. Mum will get frantic if I go on brewing potions in the kitchen – but if I can cook something to eat, she’ll be pleased,” she thought aloud. “That’s really ‘if’,” Mike teased her. “Well, shouldn’t be more complicated than brewing a forgetfulness potion, what do you think?” Patience retorted. Mike frowned. “Right,” he murmured, conscious of his complete failure at forgetfulness potions. “Let’s sign up, shall we?” Patience asked Anne and Hengist, turning to them. Anne reluctantly took the quill Patience held out. Hengist grimaced. “You know,” Ghewyn began, but stopped at once when Hengist glared at her furiously. “Okay, then, I’ll do it. But promise me not to laugh!”

Only three days later, after the last class for the day, some 20 students assembled in Snape’s dungeon. “Couldn’t they have chosen a more convenient room, like the kitchen?” Anne complained. “Come over here, please!” Flitwick called. “I’m sorry to say the kitchen is too busy for us to practise and we would upset the elves, and that’s something we really do not want to do!” He earned some laughter and more grimaces at this. “So we chose this room as we can at least heat fires in here. And the jars on the walls – well, maybe they inspire you to do some pickles!” “Of Billywig and Doxy?” Patience murmured, making Hengist snort. “Professor Sprout has supplied us with the ingredients for a good salad. Then we will have some pancakes and a nice pudding.” “Easy work,” Sprout added, smiling broadly.

The students seemed to agree, and when they were asked to choose their task, most skipped the salad as being too easy. The Magpies seized their chance, and they together with Brian and Mike were asked to slice the vegetables. Ghewyn, Catherine and John were in the pancake area: under the watchful eyes of Flitwick they measured ingredients. “It’s like doing a potion,” Patience sighed, looking over with longing eyes. “You can do the salad dressing, go on.” Hengist pushed the bowl and some spices into Patience’s direction. Sprout nodded and rubbed her hands. “The recipe’s on the blackboard. Off you go!” Then she went to look at the pancake department.

“What vegetables do we have?” Anne asked, looking over the table. “Cucumber, tomato, salad”, Hengist said, pointing at the things on the table. “Right, and those are chestnuts,” Mike grinned. “And crumbs for the dressing,” Patience added, shaking a tiny paper bag. ”Well, someone should roast and peel the chestnuts,” Anne said, looking at her classmates. Seeing that none of them showed any inclination for doing so, she sighed and bent over the table to get a chestnut. Surprisingly, the chestnut giggled wildly and escaped. Anne was stunned. “You said the things were dead,” she reminded Hengist accusingly. “They should be,” Hengist said, shaking with laughter. “You better try to get them back!”

Anne was very busy chasing the chestnuts through the dungeon. Only when she nearly knocked over Professor Flitwick and Brian and Mike were howling with laughter, Sprout realized that something was amiss. “Oh, Merlin’s beard, Miss Symmons! Didn’t you notice these were Chasing Chestnuts? Before you can work with them you have to stun them!” “Oh,” Anne said, blushing deeply. “Pay more attention,” Sprout told her, but her mouth was twitching seeing the chestnuts run over the shelves and giggling like mad. Anne leaped at them with her wand out and stunned them furiously, gathering them quickly and throwing them into the new oven that Flitwick had apparently installed. “Okay, let’s see what the other things do,” Anne said, grinning and waiting for what was to come. Patience was unaffected, stirring oil and vinegar and putting in salt and pepper – and basil, as she proudly announced. “No cinnamon?” Hengist teased her. “Why put all our fellow students into the salad?” Mike asked, laughing. “Oh, Patience loves to add cinnamon to everything,” Hengist revealed. “Ask Snape, he’ll tell you.”

“What about the vegetables? You should get a move on,” Patience told the boys sternly. “Right-o”, Brian said, taking a knife and pulling a cucumber over. “You know,” the cucumber squealed, “you should start with the tomatoes, you cannot trust them to stay calm until you have sliced them.” With a yelp Brian jumped back “The cucumber just spoke to me,” he said. The others burst into laughter. “We heard it too,” Hengist assured him. “Really, you should start with the tomatoes, they’re mutinous today,” the cucumber said. “Why should tomatoes be mutinous?” Brian asked the cucumber, holding the knife over it. “You’ll see, nothing will be amiss,” another voice said. “Oh no, please use warm water, I hate it when I’m washed cold.” Mike sighed deeply. “Really, Mr Salad, you shouldn’t worry about cold water.” “I am a salad, young master, and I am bred to be eaten,” the salad said proudly.

Patience looked to the other tables. None of the others seemed to have to discuss with the ingredients. “You know, maybe this is the most difficult part of it,” she thought aloud. “Yes, it is indeed,” snarled something next to her hand and the next thing she knew was that needle-sharp teeth had bitten her hand. “Ouch! How dare you, sneaking up like that?” she cried. “I told you, I told you, slice them,” howled the cucumber. Professor Sprout came over as both salad and cucumber were talking incessantly while the tomatoes were biting and trying to chase away the Magpies, Brian and Mike. “Now, all of you, behave yourselves,” the professor sternly called and there was silence in the vegetables. “You should really pay more attention in Herbology, especially thinking of the upcoming exams. You should start with the Treacherous Tomatoes. Mr Flatley, if you please, cut them up.” Mike did as he was asked to.

The others stood by, except of Anne who was slicing her chestnuts and grinning in a self-satisfied way. “And now to the two others here. The Soothing Salad will be harmless, the Caring Cucumber as well. Both will only tell you how to dress them best.” Sprout shook her head. ”Now, there’s nothing else to tell you, I think. Go on!” But she stayed to watch over the work of the Magpies. Flitwick was assisting the pudding group with some nice spell-work to get the cream smooth. “Patience, are you finished with the fluids?” Brian enquired. He had picked the salad while Hengist had cut up the cucumber. “Pity. They were really nice chaps,” Anne commented. “The tomatoes weren’t,” Mike told her, rubbing his right wrist where one of the tomatoes had bitten him before he could slice it. “The crumbs come last…” Patience said, checking the recipe. Now that everything was mixed it looked pretty well. “Now add the crumbs,” Hengist said, stepping back a little to admire their work.

Patience took the tiny bag and opened it. Instantly the crumbs flew at her, surrounding her throat in a thick band. Patience gasped for breath, but it was no good. “They’re suffocating her!” Anne yelled. Sprout, momentarily looking at the pancakes in the frying pan Ghewyn was presiding over, jumped forward and stunned the crumbs – and Patience, eventually. The crumbs were quickly put on the salad, while Anne revived Patience. “Are you okay?” she asked concerned. “Er… yes, I think so. Killing Crumbs? Why don’t they write that on the bag – I’d have known I should stun them first.” Patience rubbed her throat where thick red spots were visible. Professor Sprout sighed. “I fear we mixed the bags up. I’m sorry, Miss Wood. Now, the salad’s ready…”

At that moment something exploded in Ghewyn’s frying pan. Fire erupted from the pancake and Ghewyn looked like fire herself. The onlookers stood rigid with shock. Ghewyn’s hair had caught fire. “Someone do something,” Catherine wailed. John Smith quickly took charge, emptying a bowl of cold water over Ghewyn’s burning head. Nothing much had happened – only the tips of the hair were singed, but Ghewyn was drenched. Sprout and Flitwick had not been able to react quickly enough to prevent this. “Get something dry to dress, Miss Rhys, then return if you feel like it,” Sprout now said, conjuring up a big towel to wrap Ghewyn up in it. “I think we will eat when Miss Rhys is back, and this is…” “An unusual but funny thing to do,” Flitwick cut in, smiling and rubbing his hands. “I would love to have Professor Dicket over once to teach us how to cook the muggle way.” Hengist grimaced, but the others seemed to like the idea. “However, today’s lesson hasn’t been that well. Nevertheless, I hope we will enjoy what you produced!”

A New Strategy

“What are you doing?” Hengist asked. “I train my muscles.” Patience replied. “She had an idea last night.” Anne said shaking her head. “What kind of idea?” He asked curiously. “You better sit down.” Anne advised him. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.” Patience replied. “You judge for yourself.” Anne suggested to Hengist. “Well, carry on.” He said to Patience. “Have you ever been smiled at?” She asked. “Yes.” He replied suspiciously. “And you liked it?!” “Yes, everybody likes it.” “See!” Patience said to Anne. “Except Snape.” Hengist added. “See!” Anne retorted. “You cannot know this. We never tried.” Patience defended her theory. “So what is your idea?” He finally wanted to know. “I will smile at Snape.” She declared. Anne indicated that she was convinced that her friend had gone mad. Hengist remained quiet. “Well, what do you say?” She asked.

Hengist would have preferred to reply that he would rather not say anything at all but he knew that Patience would not accept that. He put on his best smile. “You’re old enough to decide what you want to do.” Patience didn’t care about her friends’ judgement. She had trained her smile and felt herself ready to be nice to Snape. “Do you think it will be dangerous to sit next to her today?” Hengist asked in a whisper. “We’ll soon find out.” Anne replied. Snape entered the classroom. He looked at the Slytherins and then his eyes wandered over the Gryffindor students. Suddenly Patience’s face caught his attention. ‘Why is she smiling. I bet she’s up to something. Maybe I should give her a detention right now. Then again if I wait I might be able to give her two friends a detention as well.’

“Today we will brew a very complicated potion. You better take out your notes, though I doubt that you wrote down anything useful.” The students produced their notes. They knew very well that he wouldn’t bother to help them. Anne busied herself to cut the needed ingredients while Hengist mused if he wanted to give it a try and fail or just do something and not care about the outcome at all. Patience heated some water in her cauldron. “Do you prepare tea, Miss Wood? Well, at least that would be something useful for a change. Though judging from your talent for brewing I would advise no one to drink it.” Patience bit her lip. Hengist had put his hand on his wand. Anne’s foot was ready to kick him if he said another word. But Patience gave her best smile. “That’s what it says in the recipe.” Patience replied. Snape grabbed the piece of parchment that bore the recipe. He read through it, tore it to pieces and threw it into Hengist’s cauldron.

Anne had tried to kick him when he tore Patience’s recipe but he had stepped closer to Hengist and so she missed him and almost fell off her chair. Hengist had let go of his wand, shouting ‘no’ and tried to save his potion. “That was hopeless any way.” Snape commented and went back to his desk. Patience jumped up. “I’ll kill him.” She whispered. Anne dragged her back on her chair. “I’ll help you!” Hengist agreed. Brian put his hand on Hengist’s leg. “Calm down. He’s just waiting to take some points of Gryffindor and give you a detention.” He whispered. Hengist sighed and was happy that he had voted for not caring about his potion from the beginning.

Anne shared her recipe with Patience. And Hengist started anew. Patience thought about what had happened. Unfortunately she was so deep in her thoughts that she continued to smile. Snape – still suspicious – approached her again. For a short moment Anne considered the possibility to use the opportunity to kick him after all. “I wouldn’t smile if I failed so miserably brewing a potion.” He snapped. Anne decided to rescue the recipe instead of kicking Snape. Patience was so surprised that she kept on smiling. ‘Oh no, she’s in love.’ He thought. He went back to his desk eyed suspiciously by Hengist who still feared for his potion. Anne looked at Patience who nevertheless returned to her potion. The lesson took its time to finally end. The Malignant Magpies packed their things. “Miss Wood, a word with you before you leave.” Snape ordered.

Patience took a deep breath but followed the command. Hengist and Anne took care of her things and took them with them to their next class. Snape had waited until all students had left. Patience had decided to go on smiling – whatever it costs. He folded his arms in front of his chest. “Have you been bewitched or are you simply ill?” He asked harshly. “No!” Patience replied in a surprised voice. “Then why have you been smiling all day long?” He barked. “As far as I know it is not forbidden to smile, professor.” Patience replied. “You’re right, Miss Wood – but if it keeps you from brewing a good potion you should quit it!” he advised her. “You better hurry or you will be late for your next class.” Patience would have given him a lecture if not the next students had filled the room.

“What did he say?” Hengist asked. “He told me to quit smiling!” Patience complained. Anne laughed. “It was well worth a try.” She decided. “I think he doesn’t even deserve to be smiled at.” Anne mused. “If it helped to cure Patience from her crazy ideas I think it was a mistake well placed.” Hengist thought aloud. “I knew that Anne was thinking badly of him but that you are just as biased as her makes me speechless.” Patience said in fake indignation. “Ladies, please, we don’t want to quarrel about anything as trivial as that son of a bat.” Anne intervened. “Yes, let’s save our quarrels for the really important things of life like the third helping at a meal, the new colour of Patience’s cousin’s hair and of course how to get rid of Mungus.” Hengist concluded. “At least we know now why Snape is never smiling – he fails all his potions!” Patience smiled.

Cursing Ducks

The students had gathered outside, standing rather close together as the lawn was covered in white frost. Anne had wisely brought a jar in which she now lit some fire to warm her and her friends’ hands. “Did you hear that?” asked Ghewyn suddenly. “What?” Hengist asked, rubbing his hands over the flames until they were red. “There’s someone in an extremely nasty temper,” the girl explained. Hengist grinned. “What do you think, is Snape lurking behind the greenhouses?” Anne and Patience laughed. “No, he’d use ‘dunderheads’, not ‘irritating idiots’,” Anne pointed out. “Miss Symmons, stop gossiping, please,” Kettleburn growled in passing the Magpies. Anne scowled, put the burning jar into her pocket and ignored the sniggers from the Slytherin trio.

Kettleburn now stood in front of the freezing students, himself wrapped in a thick fur coat. “All a question of the right clothes,” he said satisfied, rubbing his hands cheerfully. “We’re doing something that’ll come up in your exams, so for once open your ears.” The class nodded, fumbling with stiff fingers for parchment and ink to take notes immediately. “Cursing Ducks,” Kettleburn went on. “Excuse me?” Brian asked, thinking he had misunderstood. “Cursing Ducks, Cullen, wash your ears!” “Yes, do, it might be helpful at Flying,” hissed Vargas maliciously. Brian turned to him. “Shut up, git.” “Cullen, Vargas, I’m the professor, not you – nobody’s interested in your bickering. As I said, we’re doing Cursing Ducks. Who can tell me the difference of muggle ducks and Cursing Ducks?” Ghewyn’s hand rose, and also Catherine’s, but Melanie Pallet was the first to call: “They can’t speak!” “Miss Pallet, that’s basically right if you say who can’t speak,” Kettleburn said, but he did not sound happy about the rude behaviour. “The muggle ones cannot speak,” Melanie elaborated sweetly. “Next time you wait until I call your name. Anything else? Yes, Miss Rhys?” Ghewyn let her hand sink. “They have feathers glowing in the darkness and they will scare away every fox trying to get them,” she said.

“Good. Take five points for Gryffindor.” Kettleburn again rubbed his hands. “Follow me, and don’t be offended at what the ducks say – remember they’re only ducks.” The class followed the professor, and they were whispering excitedly about what the ducks would be like. In fact, the ducks looked pretty much like any duck they had ever seen. The male ones were a bit more colourful than the female ones. “Now, jot down a little sketch of them, it might come in handy for OWLs,” Kettleburn said. He walked around the class sitting cross-legged or kneeling in front of the cages. The Ducks were eyeing the students suspiciously. Suddenly a very big male one came to the cage’s door and said clearly, addressing Cook: “Bumbling Idiot!” Patience burst into laughter and Anne wrote down: ‘Ducks are very intelligent creatures.’ Hengist shook his head but was grinning as well. “Never mind, Cook, truth is truth,” Kettleburn chuckled. But Sebastian Cook was not pleased, and he did mind, so he hissed at the Duck: “Shut up, or you’ll end in a soup!” Patience had just opened her mouth to tell him that there was no soup in which duck was needed, the Duck clearly said: “Rictusempra!”, and Sebastian fell flat on his back, yelping with laughter as if someone was tickling him.

The Magpies watched the scene with cool interest. ”Shall we stop it?” Anne asked in a bored voice. Hengist shrugged. ”Don’t know. When he chokes, of course, but before?” Other ducks had become interested and seemed to find it funny to see Cook rolling in the frozen grass. Patience considered what to do when she was suddenly addressed with “Stupid cry-baby” by a beautiful white and brown duck. “And how are you?” she simply answered, smiling at the duck. It gave her an offended look and went to find a better object. Kettleburn, busy with correcting Mike’s notes, looked up. “What’s this trouble over there? Stop Cook from rolling around so much, will you, Alret?” Hengist sighed and fumbled for his wand. “Alright, then. Finite Incatatem!” Cook sat up, gasping for breath. “That stupid duck,” he muttered. The duck that had talked to Patience hobbled over to Cook. “Ugly git,” it said sweetly. Cook went brick-red. “Now, that’s enough,” he hissed, brandishing his wand at the duck which cackled gleefully. Vargas had had his share as well, being called a ‘slimy jackass’, a ‘horrible know-it-all’ and a ‘vicious villain’, which had caused Brian to cheer loudly and consequently being hit by a silencing charm from Vargas, which Mike as quick as lightning undid. Funny enough, there were few people enraged by the ducks. Vargas and Cook became main targets as they were so tetchy about being called names.

“These animals,” Kettleburn boomed, “can jinx you, hex you, curse you at will, as we have all seen in Mr Cook’s case. Now, you should never swear at them, or we will have pandemonium here, understood?” Most of the class nodded, but unfortunately Banks had not paid attention. When Melanie Pallet was told she was a brainless doll, he rose to defend her. “You ugly duckling, you vicious creature,” he bellowed, and before anyone could say another word, all the ducks began to shriek curses in various directions. Kettleburn had been right: it was pandemonium. The ducks were clearly thinking Banks’ words had been a declaration of war and now united against the class. People were shrieking and trying to escape, fleeing into the direction of the castle.

But those in the line of fire were hit by such a multitude of jinxes that soon their own mothers would not have known them. Patience was yelling counter-curses at the top of her lungs, stunning some ducks expertly and the rest of the time running in between the jinxes and hexes so not to get hit. Kettleburn was doing the same – only that he wasn’t running but had found cover behind a bush. Hengist managed to stay unharmed because he was ducking every duck-hex he saw coming. “Maybe you’d be good at Quidditch!” Brian called over, then turned with a look of utter surprise on his face and fell flat on his back. “Full body bind,” Anne explained. She thought it strange that, though hit by some jinxes and hexes, nothing had happened. The ducks had noticed as well, but, being ducks, simply thought she was not good fun to attack and left her alone. Kettleburn came out of his cover when only three students were still standing, the rest of the class either lying in the grass bearing various hex-marks or running to the castle in wild panic. “Stun them,” he ordered briskly, beginning right away.

The Malignant Magpies helped him as they could, and indeed they managed to stun the still cursing and swearing ducks. “This Banks is such an idiot,” Kettleburn fumed. “Yes sir,” Anne couldn’t help agreeing. The professor gave her a sharp look. “Help me get someone to carry those piteous creatures up to the castle, Madam Pomfrey will have to treat them.” The three students went back to the castle, noticeably slower than their classmates. Those still able to stand were waiting in the Entrance Hall. “Are they gone?” Catherine asked, shaking. “Yes. They’re stunned. Those of you who were hit shall go to the Hospital Wing, right? And send help from there to the greenhouses, some can’t walk,” Hengist informed the others. “Oh my god, oh my god,” Catherine began to wail. “Come on, Cathy, it’s alright,” Patience soothed her, patting her shoulder gently. “It’s over, and I bet we’ll never to Cursing Ducks again.”

She was right. In the next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, taking place in their usual classroom, Kettleburn held them a lecture they were not likely to forget: “When I tell you something about creatures and how to treat them, I need you to listen closely. We cannot afford some idiots to not pay attention and cause grave injuries to themselves, the creatures and their classmates.” Hengist grinned at this nice order of subjects. “The Cursing Ducks will never again be taught by showing live examples. You will have to learn out of books – that is, for you Cursing Ducks are off the schedule anyway. They’ll not come up in the exam, for Professor Dumbledore seems to think some of you received a shock and will no be able to do your best at OWLs. However, I must deal with the mess you’ve created, Mr Banks.” And Kettleburn turned to the pale Slytherin who still had some angry red spots in his face telling of the jinxes he had encountered.

“And with the dangerous beginnings of trouble you’ve created, Mr Vargas, Mr Cook.” Kettleburn’s grim face was twisted in anger. Nobody had ever seen him so furious before. “But,” the professor continued, and his voice softened with an effort, ”I must also say that I really appreciated the way three other students of this class helped to get the ducks stunned. Mr Alret, Miss Symmons, Miss Wood, thank you again for your help. Take 30 points for Gryffindor.” The Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students cheered and clapped, but the Slytherins looked mutinous. “And you three, you will lose 30 points for Slytherin, besides you’ll all have to do a detention. I want you to clean the Cursing Ducks’ cages for the next 4 weeks.” “Yes sir,” Vargas mumbled, turned and glared at the Magpies who were beaming. When the lesson had ended, Vargas fought his way to the Gryffindor trio. “That means revenge,” he announced hotly and stalked away. Patience shook her head. “Will he ever learn not to announce revenge but simply do it?” she groaned. Hengist and Anne sniggered.

Vargas in Trouble

“5 points from Gryffindor, Flatley,“ Snape hissed savagely after Mike had let his spoon fall into the cauldron, causing Sebastian Cook in front of him being splashed with swelling solution. Consequently, Cook’s elbows were growing at an extraordinary rate. Most students were delighted, excluding Cook’s cronies Banks and Vargas. In the very back of the dungeon Patience had her chin supported by her hand and stared dreamily ahead. “That’s sooo gorgeous,” she muttered. Snape was busy curing Cook who looked very grotesque by now and did not pay attention to the class. “I’d love to see it again. There it goes!” Hengist sighed disappointedly. “There goes what?” Anne wanted to know. “The Cook monster. Ah, no, just the mutated Cook monster has gone,” Hengist grinned.

Snape was now on a walk around the class controlling cauldrons. Patience quickly threw the required handful of moths’ wings into her potion and sent the fluid bubbling. Snape stopped, eyeing cauldron and student suspiciously. “Are you sure you are not bound on killing all of us, Miss Wood?” he asked coldly. “I never thought of killing all of us,” Patience answered calmly. “Never. Indeed. Let me see… we will try this at the end of the lesson. Much too fluid, Miss Symmons. Haven’t you added the moths’ wings yet, Alret? Get going!” “He loses touch,” Anne remarked when Snape was in a safe distance. “But he’s awfully cute when he’s really, really furious,” Patience pointed out. Hengist couldn’t help exclaiming at that.

Snape swivelled round so fast he knocked over the moths’ wings box of Ghewyn Rhys – right into her cauldron. Ghewyn had seen it, but Snape had not. “Another stir from one of you and you’ll have detention for…” The Magpies never got to know for how long they would have gotten detention, as Ghewyn’s solution bubbled over the brim of her cauldron. Ghewyn jumped out of the way and dragged Nelly with her. Catherine was too late in escaping, her right foot was already covered in fluid. “You stupid girl!” Snape yelled enraged, wiping away the potion with his wand. “Can’t you count to 15? Not more wings, why can’t you keep that in mind? Why don’t you check the blackboard for a change, Miss Rhys?” Ghewyn was so shocked she stood there open-mouthed. “That’s unfair!” said Patience at once. “You’ll get detention, hush,” Hengist urged but it was already too late. “Miss Wood, I don’t need to be advised by you. Miss Rhys seems…” “Miss Rhys has done nothing, you knocked her full box of moths’ wings into her potion when you came over to talk to Hengist!” Patience burst out. Anne grinned and leaned back, arms folded.

One of those rare occasions Snape actually met opposition had to be watched carefully. Snape’s eyes narrowed. “What nonsense are you telling there? Knock over a box without noticing it?” “Yes, sir.” “That will do. Gryffindor will lose 25 points each for Miss Rhys’ lack of counting and Miss Wood’s fantasy!” Snape announced. 55 points lost in one lesson! This must be an all-time low. Ghewyn mouthed ‘Thank you’ to Patience who simply shrugged. “Oh, and both of you will receive detention. Come to me after class,” Snape added. Patience glared at him for the rest of the lesson – until it was 10 minutes to the end. Snape called her to the front with a goblet full of the swelling solution. Both Anne and Hengist thought it likely Patience would refuse that. But she swallowed her pride. 55 points down were enough. They couldn’t afford another point lost unless they won the Quidditch Cup. An unlikely event to say the least.

Patience went to the front as slowly as possible, carrying her full goblet carefully. “Maybe she drops it onto Snape,” Hengist suggested to Anne. “I don’t think so. But she’s right, Snape’s cute when he is angry. We should tell him that, shouldn’t we?” “Oh sure. You can say good-bye to your head if you do so,” Hengist groaned. Anne grinned. “No, decapitation does not mean losing your head necessarily. Look at Nick!” Both had to suppress a fit of giggles by now before Snape gave them detention as well. Patience in the meantime was told to put three drops of the solution on – a dead spider. “Er… sir, can’t we use a mouse?” “No. The spider will do,” Snape curtly said. Patience swallowed hard. In her opinion the specimen, dead or alive, was already huge enough and did not need to swell. “I can’t do that,” she said clearly.

“Chickening out, Wood?” Vargas hissed from the front row. Patience knew that she would never get any support from Snape if she went at Vargas right now so she ignored him completely. “Do you want to lose Gryffindor another ten points?” Snape asked menacingly. “No sir,” Patience answered and extended her goblet. “It won’t move,” Snape said in a very low voice. Patience stared at him in wonder, but there was nothing in his face to suggest it was intended as a soothing remark. So maybe it was only to make fun of her, and clearly Banks, Cook and Vargas saw it as that. They were sniggering unrestrainedly. Patience’s hand gave the slightest of quivers when the drops had fallen and immediately caused the spider to swell three times its size. How much she wished this one potion had failed to act! But no, the spider grew and grew and Patience stepped back, telling herself to do it calmly and so as to make space for the others to watch.

“At least you can brew potions,” Snape remarked icily. “Sit down, Miss Wood.” Patience had barely reached her seat when the spider had swollen too big and burst. Some girls screamed. “Silence!” Snape said and cleared away the spider’s remains. The bell announced the end of the lesson. “See you outside,” Patience sighed, knowing she would have to face another detention. She packed her things and then waited for Ghewyn to get ready as well. “I have Astronomy now, and how shall I get up the tower in time?” Ghewyn complained. “Cheer up, you’ll be able to do it. Come, he’s going to be curt and impolite as always,” Patience told her. “Miss Wood, Miss Rhys, you will both do your detention with Mr Filch in the trophy room. The day will be named to you,” Snape said without even looking up from the notes he was jotting down. Ghewyn left with a whispered “Yes, sir” and hurried out, but Patience stayed behind, watching Snape carefully.

“Why a spider?” she asked. Snape dropped his quill and looked at her. ”Because it is a good object to swell. A mouse would have caused too much of a mess,” he explained. “If that is all, Miss Wood, I recommend you to go to your next class.” Patience didn’t bother to inform him that actually she was facing a free lesson right now, because old Professor Kettleburn was ill (not counting having to do a lot of homework) and went to find Anne and Hengist. “I wish Cook had been sprouting elbows a whole week,” Anne sighed dreamily. “You know, as a child I’ve been watching Sesame Street on TV,” Hengist told his friends on their way upstairs. “Really? A street made of sesame?” Patience asked, her eyes twinkling merrily. “No. It’s a child’s TV show and they had a character in it called the Cookie Monster!” All three burst into laughter.

“I bet it didn’t look as nice as Sebastian,” Anne giggled. “Oh, it looks awfully cute, you know, all furry. And it’s got blue fur, and it loves eating cookies.” “Indeed. How would you reckon our Cook monster would look like covered in blue fur?” Patience asked. “Only a theory,” she added hastily. “So you don’t have the right potion up your sleeve?” Anne asked carefully. “No. I’m really sorry. I wish I had, for I personally would love to see him!” “Yes, it would improve things considerably, “Hengist said amused. They had to quit this interesting subject as the one they had been talking about and the unavoidable Vargas and Banks overtook them. “You really cannot avoid them,” Hengist hissed. “But we can use them,” Anne grinned. “How?” Patience wanted to know. ”We need to develop a plan,” Anne said. “The library?” “Sure,” Hengist and Patience agreed.

They went to the library, obviously on purpose of doing their homework. But they were plotting something really worthy of the Malignant Magpies. “And when they said this, we’re going to have the time of our lives!” Anne finished excitedly. All the while Patience had been scribbling away. She presented the parchment to her friends. “Brilliant!” Hengist exclaimed. Anne was content with it as well. “And now let’s set it to work!” It was fortunate for the Big Plan the Magpies met Vargas, Cook and Banks on the stairs. Patience held her breath. It was vital to speak only when it was time. Hengist was talking to Anne about something indifferent, when, turning to her, he suddenly asked: ”Do you still think Snape cute?” Vargas heard that, and, as intended, he began to mock Patience. The time was chosen perfectly.

Snape was just on his way to the staff room when Vargas blurted out very audibly: “Oh, how cute you are, Professor Snape, especially when you glare at me.” Snape, one staircase lower, stopped dead. Anne prayed she would not burst into laughter right now. Vargas went on: “It’s so attractive when you yell at me!” “That would be enough!” bellowed the real Snape from below. Vargas swivelled around, clearly embarrassed to the highest degree. “I… I didn’t mean to, sir,” he said, searching frantically for an apology, but Snape waved him off. Vargas hurried away, followed immediately by Banks and Cook. “And you be off as well,” Snape snapped at the Magpies. He did not have to say that twice. Hardly able to suppress their laughter any longer they ran up the stairs. Hengist almost fell off a stair when it changed direction, but that did not really matter.

They were breathless and still laughing when they arrived at the Common Room. “Such a sight,” Anne panted. “Incredible how well it worked!” Patience added. “Right you are. Give me the letter, I’ll get someone to write it.” “Someone?” Anne and Patience asked together. Hengist grinned. “I know somebody in fourth grade who is very good at forging scripts.” “I can forge scripts,” Patience protested. “Yes, of course, but everyone knows that and you never were able to copy Vargas’ script to the tiniest line. He can.” “And do we get to know his name?” Anne asked impatiently. “Dave Seymour,” Hengist answered.

Hengist arranged for Dave to be around in the evening. After Herbology, the Magpies hurried back, facing a weekend with evil plans. Dave rose from his chair in the common room. “Are you back? Good. I’ve been waiting for quite a time already,” Dave said. “Thanks a lot. That’s what we need, in this handwriting. ”Hengist produced a leaf of Vargas’ notes from his pocket and the essay Patience had written. Or wasn’t it an essay? Dave read through the original and burst into laughter. “That’s great! You must tell me how it worked!” “I doubt we get to know it in full, but it’s really the perfect way to get Vargas into trouble and annoy Snape!” The common room began to fill as lessons were over.

“Want to go to dinner?” Dave asked while carefully trying to forge Vargas’ script. “Shall we take something up for you?” Patience offered. “Would be very kind, yeah.” And Dave went on. The Magpies provided food and drink for him, even did part of his homework in exchange for his favour, although Dave protested this was too much fun and he did not need to be paid for the fun he had. None of the three friends would listen, though, and by ten o’clock all was finished. “There you are. Hand it to Snape whenever you want to,” Dave proudly said. “Thank you so much, Dave,” Anne beamed at the boy who blushed. “No matter, Anne, really.”

Knowing there would be no potions lesson until Tuesday the Magpies managed to make Vargas repeat his ‘Snape is so cute’-sentences over and over again, sometimes by talking unabashed in front of the Slytherin trio, sometimes by mocking Vargas. It was really funny, and Snape began to wonder what he should make of it. He even consulted Emerson Dicket who laughed the matter off. But when, on Tuesday morning, Snape showed him a letter, Emerson changed his mind. The letter went thus: “My dearest Professor Snape, how can I ever express what I feel for you? Although everyone might hate you, this is just because they do not see how good and great you are. In your fury you resemble the ancient gods who threw their fiery spears towards those who erred. And those gods, especially the Greek ones, did not detest such a love as I feel for you. They valued it as the purest form of love possible. I offer you this my heart, dear professor. Yours ever, Ramon Vargas.”

Emerson dropped the letter. “That boy is queer, if you ask me, Severus. How old is he? Fifteen, eh? Fifteen, then. Severus, I think you must talk to him.” “How shall I do that? Gracious God, Dicket, this is nothing I can handle!” Snape ran his fingers through his hair. Emerson grinned. “You know, somehow it pleases me to see you at a loss. This you cannot handle with detention and intimidation – he would think it a proof of your affection for him. Give Vargas what he does not like,” Emerson advised Snape. “Ah yes. Be kind to him? No. That boy is unbearable, if you ask me.” “Yes, yes, and so are the three Gryffindor students you so much detest. By the way, they are all three clever and dislike you, what if they’re behind it?”

“Emerson, I know the handwritings of my students, at least those of my house, and this is indeed Vargas’ script. I’ve already seen it forged by Miss Wood, but she’s not that perfect.” Snape sighed deeply and picked up the letter again. “Then do as you please.” Dicket shrugged and turned to his own books.

Snape was distracted all day. To the Magpies’ delight he wasn’t even snapping at them when they were openly talking during the lesson. “He read the letter!” Patience sang on their way to Flying. “I would just love to get to know what he will tell Vargas,” Anne sighed. Madam Hooch was already waiting for the class in the Quidditch Pitch. “Welcome, all of you, mount your brooms!” she shouted. Anne grimaced. She disliked Flying. Patience and Hengist were already up in the air, chasing each other, when Snape came striding towards the class.

As the Gryffindor and Slytherin students had Flying lessons together, Anne thought this might be interesting to hear. In a hurry she mounted her broom and flew near enough to Snape and Hooch to eavesdrop. “I need to talk to Ramon Vargas,” Snape told Hooch. “Very well, Severus, I shall call him. Vargas!” Now even Patience and Hengist had remarked what was going on. Anne thought quickly of what to do. She longed to get to know what happened. Then she knew what to do: As soon as Snape and a totally bewildered Vargas had disappeared, she landed in front of Madam Hooch, holding her stomach and trying to look miserable. “Madam Hooch, may I go to see Madam Pomfrey? Flying just isn’t good for me!” Madam Hooch looked at her closely. “Miss Symmons, I really wonder what makes you sick in flying. But go, go, and get better!” “Thanks,” Anne muttered. Patience flew over to her, landing rather harder than expected. “Oops. Sorry. Anne, where are you going?” she wanted to know. Anne grinned. “Eavesdropping. I’ll tell you later!” This was the very first Flying lesson in which neither Hengist nor Patience excelled.

Anne followed Snape and Vargas through the corridors, although she had a pretty good idea where they were heading. Indeed it was Snape’s office. Snape looked around and Anne ducked into a black niche. He didn’t see her, pushed Vargas into his office and closed the door. Anne giggled excitedly. She sneaked to the door and pressed her ear against the keyhole. Nothing. Disappointed, Anne took out her wand. “Professor, why so suspicious? Nobody would dare to eavesdrop here,” Anne murmured, then whispered “Docero” and was suddenly able to listen to everything going on inside. “… and now tell me what brought you to write me this!” Snape was just barking. The rustling of parchment told Anne Vargas had grabbed the letter. “Oh, read faster, you idiot,” Anne whispered impatiently.

Finally Vargas said, stunned: “I didn’t write this, sir.” “You didn’t! I never expected you to say otherwise. I want to stop this stupid fantasy at once. You will neither tell anyone about this nor will you go on with it.” “I cannot go on with what I don’t do!” Vargas pointed out. “Silence! I heard you talk about me in the corridors, to several people, and this letter confirmed my worst suspicions. Vargas, if you ever mutter a syllable of this nonsense again you will be facing an interview with the headmaster,” Snape threatened.

Anne made a mental note not to go on with tricking Vargas into admiring statements. Dumbledore would no doubt find out who the real culprits were. “Go now!” Snape spat and Anne ran away as fast as she could. She was a bit disappointed. No detention for Vargas, nothing but that little lecture. But when Vargas was almost out of the door, Snape called after him: “And you will clean the bedpans for a whole month without using magic!” Anne grinned broadly.

“Yes!” Hengist exclaimed and punched the air with his fist when he heard this outcome. “A pity we cannot go on,” Patience laughed. “But it was a brilliant thing, anyway. Now, what is next on our list?” Anne asked. “Blue fur,” Patience reminded her. “Right. Blue fur for Cook. Have you got a recipe?” “For the colour, yes, for the fur, no,” Patience sighed. “But I can’t stay here longer, neither can Hengist, we must go to Divination,” she added. “We’ll be late anyway, but I know how we can make up for it,” Hengist grinned. “How?” Anne asked. “We just tell Trelawney she predicted this at the beginning of term. She’ll not know if she did or not!” Hengist revealed. Anne promised to go to the library to look for a recipe for creating fur.

At dinner they met again. “Have you found something?” Patience immediately asked. “I have, but it sounds pretty complicated,” Anne told her friend, handing her a parchment. Patience read it quickly. “It’s okay, we just need a secret place to brew it.” “Oh no, not a visit to Moaning Myrtle,” Hengist groaned. “Oh yes. Or do you want to get caught?” Anne asked ironically, ladling stew onto Hengist’s plate. He shook his head. “Do we have homework to do?” Anne asked. “Yes we do. I’m sorry, this must wait until the weekend,” Patience sighed. “And besides, it’s Hogsmeade weekend and we can get some things for the potion there.”

The Cookie Monster

“Don’t come back with your bags full of Zonko’s stuff,” Nearly Headless Nick told every student leaving Gryffindor Tower. “Why not?” Brian wanted to know. “I don’t want Gryffindor to lose anymore points,” the ghost answered gravely. “You just have to be cunning enough not to get caught,” Anne grinned.

It was cool outside, although it was already April. “I wish spring would come,” Anne sighed. Patience laughed. “Ah, no, you don’t say!” They walked fast to keep warm. Hogsmeade was of course crowded with Hogwarts students. “Where do we go first?” Hengist enquired. Patience took out a piece of parchment. “This is our list for today. We have to go to Dervish and Bangs to get our potions’ ingredients. And we wanted to see if Honeyduke’s has a new flavour of chocolate to fill the potion into. And I wanted to see if they have the latest novel of…” “Well, that’s your private things, let’s do the other things first,” Hengist interrupted Patience. “Sure. Here we are, Dervish and Bangs.” The Magpies entered the supplier’s shop. You could get practically everything there, as Hogsmeade had not as many shops as the magical streets in the cities.

But at least they had a post office, a decent robe shop, a book shop, a supplier, a sweet shop and of course a joke shop. Somehow they seemed to have adjusted to the needs of students and teachers. Patience still had her list in hand and now ordered Anne to fetch a basket. “Hengist, look for cinnamon, if you please,” she then said. Hengist began looking for it, but Anne frowned. “Are you sure it’s in the potion? I can’t remember having written it down.” “I’m sure it should be in the potion if we find the right chocolate. For the same reason we’ll need other flavours to add – things that shouldn’t affect the effects, you know,” Patience explained. Anne nodded. “Sounds reasonable to me. Okay, what shall I do?” “You go and find me powdered fly agarics,” Patience read out from her list.

She herself went to find some hemlock roots. Together with the things she already had in her potions set these things would transform Sebastian Cook into a fluffy blue Cookie Monster. Patience grinned. “Heyday, Miss Wood, nice to meet you,” somebody suddenly cried. Patience swivelled around and found herself facing Emerson Dicket. “I just wondered if we could have a chat later, with your two friends of course, at the Three broomsticks?” “Er… Sure, yes, thanks, professor,” Patience stammered. “Stocking up your potions supplies? Very good of you,” Dicket said appreciatively and walked away again. Patience breathed normal again. Now only some belladonna was missing (she was running low on that anyway) and they could pay for their ingredients. Anne had found some strawberry powder and Hengist added some almond syrup. “Let’s go to Honeydukes now, shall we?” Anne said.

Patience and Hengist followed her. Honeydukes was crowded and the owners were beaming, fetching new cartons of sweets by the minute and earning a month’s keep. Anne selected the chocolate (‘almond chocolate, much too good for him, but, well’) and Hengist and Patience decided on things for themselves. “What about cockroach clusters, why don’t we fill them with the potion?” Hengist wanted to know. “Because we don’t know what they taste like,” Anne told him sharply. “And besides, he wouldn’t eat them. And it’s two potions we have to fill in, the fur and the colour potion, and therefore we need something bigger than such a tiny cockroach cluster,” Patience explained to Hengist. “You know what? I’ll try some,” Hengist decided. Patience and Anne stared at him. “No you don’t,” Anne said, trying to make it sound like a joke. Hengist raised one eyebrow. “Why not? I’m the one who supplies you two with jelly babies, so trust my taste!” “You can try it, I certainly won’t,” Patience said determinedly and bought herself some fizzing whizzbees.

“Hang on, Dicket told us to meet him at the pub!” she suddenly exclaimed. Hengist frowned. “What does he want?” he asked. “I haven’t got a clue.” The three made their way into the pub. Dicket was already sitting there, waving over to them. “Hello, Professor Dicket,” Anne greeted him. “Hello, hello, sit down. I just wanted to talk to you for a little while. Can I get you something? A butterbeer?” The Magpies accepted gratefully. Madam Rosmerta herself served the beer and smiled at Dicket encouragingly. The professor didn’t react at all. “So, well, I know you’re a trio of pranksters,” he began. There was no point in denying that, so the Magpies nodded in unison. “And I think you were the ones to send a certain letter to my friend Severus Snape.” Dicket looked each of them into the eyes.

“A letter?” Patience asked in her best innocent voice. “You can try that with Flitwick, I don’t fall for it, Patience,” Emerson grinned. Patience gave up at once. “And if we were behind it, what would you do?” Hengist enquired. “Nothing. The affair is settled, and that’s that. So, you can tell me everything. And I mean everything.” Emerson smiled and leaned back. Anne laughed. “Okay, then, we will tell you.” And so Emerson Dicket was the first teacher ever to get to know the exact way a Magpies prank had been performed.

At Hogwarts again the Magpies stored their things in their respective dormitories and joined the others for dinner. But instead of returning to the Common Room in the evening, they went into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. “And now to our potions. Hey, you’ve already prepared one!” Hengist exclaimed, seeing one cauldron softly simmering. “Sure I did. The colour one. That was pretty easy, it’s just that it needs to simmer for a day,” Patience said cheerfully and sat down on the floor. “What do you want here?” asked the ghost who inhabited the bathroom. “We do something to annoy Slytherins, and we know you disliked them, too,” Anne told Myrtle soothingly. Myrtle came near. “Will it make someone upset?” ”Yes, very, “ Hengist assured her. “Go and fetch my things, Anne,” Patience begged. Anne laughed. “I’m on my way, oh lady of the cauldrons.” Patience grinned only and began to chop some butterfly wings she had brought.

Only the new things, including the chocolate, were missing as yet. Anne was back pretty soon. “You know, your brother wanted to drag me off to talk about some famous pranks we did, but I told him we had something better in mind right now and he let me go.” “I’m not sure if it was wise to let Verres know,” Patience mused, making Hengist cut the hemlock into tiny bits. “Some water, if you please,” she then said, handing a can to Anne. “Myrtle, which tap is working?” Anne asked. Myrtle placed a finger on her lips, apparently thinking. “The second from the left, but…” Myrtle couldn’t finish her sentence. Anne had opened the tap at once and was now sprayed with water. “I didn’t want to take a shower,” she spluttered. Even Myrtle was laughing now. “You should have waited until I finished my sentence,” she pointed out. Anne grinned. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Again she opened the tap, but this time more carefully.

Patience poured the water into the second cauldron and then added the other ingredients, while Hengist was stirring the contents. “How long does it take?” “Three minutes,” Patience told him, watching the potion anxiously. “What about the almond syrup?” Anne asked. “I’ll add that when we’ve mixed the two potions. I just hope it’ll go right,” Patience answered. The fur potion turned acid green suddenly and began to fume. “That’s correct”, Hengist whispered. Then, with a slight ‘plop’, the potion got all bubbly and turned into a salmon pink.

“Done,” Patience said satisfied. The colour potion was also finished, shimmering softly blue in the dim light of the bathroom. “Great. Now we’ll mix them and add the almond and… Hang on, how do we get it into the chocolate?” Anne asked, suddenly realizing the difficulties. Hengist held up an injection. “I have this to water especially tricky plants,” he explained. “Professor Sprout loves these thingies as well.” “You’re a genius,” Anne congratulated Hengist who bowed mockingly. Patience meanwhile was carefully ladling colour into the fur potion. Nothing happened except that the salmon vanished and turned blue. “Good. No reaction at all. I was a bit queasy about that,” she confessed. “Fill it into the chocolate, Dr Alret,” Anne giggled.

Hengist did so, very carefully. “And now we will send it with a nice little owl to Cook. Maybe he’ll share it with his friends,” Anne thought aloud. “We should prevent that. Maybe we’ll send a letter as well, writing that this is a gift from an admirer, and that only he is allowed to eat the chocolate for everyone else will be sick,” Patience suggested. “Great! I will write it,” Hengist offered. “Okay. Let’s clean everything away, better leave no trace.”

The next morning Sebastian Cook was happy to receive a tiny parcel in which he found a block of finest almond chocolate. He read the note and shrugged apologetically to his friends. “And on we go,” Hengist whispered excitedly. Anne kicked him under the table. It was vital they raised no suspicion. “It will take some minutes anyway,” Patience told Hengist. Indeed they had finished breakfast and were on their way outside, for this Sunday was the first really fine day of the year, when Cook began sprouting blue fur. It started in his face, his hair turned blue, then his hands got covered in fur.

“I do not even want to think where the fur is creeping now,” Hengist shuddered, watching the rapid transformation with silent delight. “You three, come with me,” said a voice from behind, making the Magpies jump. Emerson Dicket stared at them. “You will follow me,” he repeated, turning and leading he way to his office. There he indicated chairs for the three students and sat down himself behind his desk. “See, I think I know you are behind this attack on Cook. It is a great plan and it is great fun, but still it is a serious injury of school rules. So I must find some punishment for you.” Emerson folded his hands and leaned forward.

“This will be your punishment: For this school year, you will help prepare my lessons. Cleaning the blackboard, preparing experiments, that kind of stuff.” He leaned back again. “What do you say?” The Magpies exchanged glances. ”That sounds fair,” Hengist answered for them all. “That is fair,” Dicket assured them. “We accept,” Patience agreed. “Good. Then let me congratulate you on this masterpiece of a potion. How long will the effects last?” “Depends on how much chocolate he had,” Anne informed Dicket. Dicket chuckled. “Then go down quickly and have fun with furry Cook!”

The Incident

“So, what have you got, Patience?” Anne wanted to know. “Aragorn to Boromir/ Ah! Brave the men of Gondor are/Of whom I am the liege and lord/But thou arst my lord, if near or far,/The prize of all my hoard./To feel the horn of Gondor blown/Is bliss eternal to me/The sun has never brighter shone/As when I blew it for thee./Boromir, Denethors son,/I bless thee with mouth and hand!/In thee a real treasure I’ve won:/Never break may our band./In faith, I truly adore thee/Willst thou once blow my horn for me.” Patience recited.

“You’re next, Anne.” Hengist said when his fit of laughter had been over. “From Me To You/I have noticed that Legolas is fair,/Especially his long blond elven hair,/To me he's just a pig covered with mud,/Every time I look at you well-built butt./Handsome Gimli is of the Dwarven kind,/Especially his axe I have in mind,/But his qualities always make me sick,/Every time I think of your manly…”

“CENSORED!” Both Patience and Hengist shouted bursting into laughter. “Of our company the Beauregard,/Especially when of the ring the guard,/The hobbit makes the gall come to my lips,/Every time my hands are around your hips./The world must know that you will always be,/- concerning love - the only one for me.” “Miss Symmons, do you think it wise to share your immoral outbursts with your classmates?” Professor Snape asked sharply. “What is immoral about that…?” Patience asked but was being interrupted. “Miss Wood, of course, now who influenced whom? And what role is young Mr. Alret playing, I wonder.” Snape mused mocking his three favourite students.

“We were only having fun. We all wrote – ouch” Anne had kicked him hard. “What Hengist wanted to say is that we all vote…for…the…worst poem.” Snape had waited patiently. “You can tell that to the marines, Miss Wood.” Snape snapped coldly. “Mr. Alret, you wanted to say something, I believe.” Snape’s eyes pierced the poor student. Hengist took a deep breath. “Leave him alone, he didn’t do anything.” Anne barked. “Miss Symmons, you might have forgotten, but you are definitely in no position to say anything!” Hengist put his right hand on her left forearm to calm her down.

“It seems that your parents have missed to teach you morals. Then somebody else will have to do that: me!” “I think you’re in no position to teach us – ouch.” Anne was interrupted by two feet – one belonging to Patience and the other to Hengist – stepping on her own feet. Snape glared at her. “This afternoon, 4 o'clock, in your common room.” Snape announced. He left not without shooting another angry look at the three students.

“What’s that? Detention?” Hengist asked unbelievingly. Patience shrugged. He’s gone mad, I’d say.” “He cannot come to the Gryffindor common room, that’s illegal. He’s up to something.” Anne burst out. “C’mon Anne, in your eyes he’s constantly up to something. Mind you, you are always wrong.” Patience intervened. “Just because I haven’t been right until now doesn’t necessarily mean that I’m always wrong.” Anne complained. Hengist frowned. “We’ll have to prepare the common room – and warn the others!” Hengist reminded them. “Right.” Patience thought aloud. “We’ll have to prepare the common room.” She went away. “Now, what is she up to now?” Hengist asked. “Don’t ask me, I’m always wrong.” Anne retorted following Patience. Reluctantly but curiously Hengist followed the two girls.

Up in the common room. Patience had a good look around. “Now first of all, where shall we seat our dear, dear teacher. Ha, I know, the very comfortable armchair.” A quick spell and a wave of her wand followed. “No magic in the common room.” Percy warned her. “Shut up, red head.” Anne barked. Patience turned. “Not you Patience, I meant little Weasley.” Anne explained. “Anne, there are certain rules which even you and Patience will have to obey.” “You’re not prefect, Percy.” Hengist reminded the young boy. “Not yet!” Percy whispered but left. “What are you preparing?” Hengist asked and sat down in the respective armchair. “O my God, he’s gone!” Anne exclaimed mockingly watching Hengist sink deeply into the piece of furniture. “HELP!” He cried.

Both Patience and Anne rescued their friend – laughingly. “That’s not funny, what did you do to that chair!” Hengist said angrily. “That’s obvious, she turned it into a bat-trap. Methinks, my friend, you captured a most valuable prey.” Anne joked. “Methinks so too, fair friend, a Hengist of the Alret family. Indeed a rare species and hard to find.” Patience burst into laughter. “Very funny, very, very funny.” Hengist muttered. “I pray you, do not be angry with us, my lord.” Anne pleaded. “No, my lord, we beseech you, show mercy and forget your anger.” Patience went on. Hengist shook his head trying hard to keep his own laughter silent. “Can’t you be serious for one single moment?” “Nay, for life is much too short to be serious!” Anne replied hugging him jovially.

“When will you grow up anyway, girls?” Hengist asked reproachfully. “He’s asking us to grow up!” Anne replied pretending to be hurt. “Maybe he knows a spell or a potion to make us grow.” Patience mused. “Potion.” Anne sighed and sat down on the floor. “Snape.” Hengist added and sat down next to her. “Maybe he will leave us alone when we hide in our dormitories – he’d never go there, what do you say?” Hengist thought aloud. Patience beamed. “Wouldn’t it be great to make him come to our dormitory!” She said. “Yeah, would be a dream come true.” Anne replied. Hengist remained silent. He closed his eyes. “Hey, please don’t dream of that son of a bat while I’m sitting next to you.” Anne warned him. “I wasn’t dreaming about Snape.” He defended himself.

Anne looked at Patience. Patience winked at her. “Honestly, you can dream about anyone you like.” She promised. “I wasn’t… What are you up to?” Hengist asked suspiciously. “Go away, this is no talk for people training to be prefects.” Anne told him. “Hey, that's not fair!” Hengist protested. “Want to learn about morals?” Patience asked. “Taught by our dear potion’s master?” Hengist retorted and shuddered. “No!” the Magpies exclaimed in on voice.

“What else can we do? Teaching us morals – that git.” Patience murmured. “Teaching us morals!” Anne repeated. “Seems we definitely need that. We live like Eve and Adam. We don’t have a worry. We don’t have a care.” She mused. “And no clothes.” Hengist added thoughtfully. “Yes, that’s the best idea ever!” Patience exclaimed. “What?” Hengist wanted to know. “No clothes!” Patience repeated. “No, Patience, I won’t be naked in front of Snape, no way, you can forget that!” Anne protested. “Not you, Anne!” Patience laughed. “Me neither, Patience.” Hengist exclaimed. “No, Hengist, not you either.” Hengist and Anne stared at Patience. “No, me neither!” Patience burst out still laughing. Anne jumped up. “I don’t want to see Snape naked!” She shouted causing everybody present to turn towards her. “What, does anybody of you want to see him naked?” She asked boldly. Everybody turned away again. “No, not Snape either!” Patience calmed her down. “But who’s naked then?” Hengist wanted to know.

“That will never work out!” Anne shook her head. “Maybe it does…” Hengist thought aloud. “Of course it will work out. No doubt about that!” Patience said. “But how will you get Snape to our dormitory so that he can have a look at our pornographic gallery? And here professor, you see a work of art of the late 20th century by a very famous photographer…” “Of course not!” Patience intervened. “She’s right. You cannot tell Snape that we decorated your dormitory with nude pictures and then ask him if he wants to have a look at them!” Hengist added. “No, of course not, but what if it is too loud in the common room.” Patience explained. “It’s always loud in the common room. That won’t make Snape go up to the girls’ dormitory!” Anne reminded her. “Well, we could not possibly go to the boys’ dormitory. That would be immoral…” Patience said happily. “But when I go to the girls’ dormitory that would be moral?” Hengist asked. “Yes, my love!” Patience assured and hugged him. “At least it would be the lesser of the two evils.” Anne replied.

It was almost 4 o'clock. Patience, Anne and Hengist sat uncomfortably on the sofa. “What’s the time?” Hengist wanted to know. “Two seconds after you have asked the last time.” Patience informed him. “Maybe he forgot about us.” Anne thought aloud. But at the same moment somebody knocked at the door. None of the three got up. “One of us should get up and open the door.” Hengist suggested. The two girls didn’t answer. “Honestly, I won’t let him in.” Hengist assured them. Anne looked over to Patience. “No, me neither.” She stated. “We could just let him stand out there forever!” Anne thought aloud. Again somebody knocked. Anne got up reluctantly. She opened the door and indeed it was Snape. “Professor, what a nice surprise, don’t you want to come in?” Anne greeted him. “Miss Symmons, if you want another detention you just have to tell me so.” Snape warned her. “C’mon, I just tried to be friendly.” “No, Miss Symmons, you intended to make fun of me.” He entered.

He went straight towards Hengist and Patience. Anne surpassed him and sat down on the couch next to her two friends. “Saved you.” She hissed. “No, Miss Symmons, you can get up right away again!” Snape told her. Anne frowned but got up having her eyes fixed on the teacher. “Since you show a lack of even the most common practices in the interacting with your fellow human beings, I’ll start the lecture with that.” Anne was about to ask who had been the human being she had interacted with when Snape went on. “You’re at your home in Cumbria and someone knocks on the door. What will happen?” ‘One of our house-elves will open the door.” She thought to herself. Snape shook his head. “Maybe you start by opening the door?” He suggested. ‘Not if it was you.’ Anne thought. “Maybe we should practice that.” Snape ordered. “Right!” Anne said returning to the real world.

She hurried over to the door and opened it. “But first, you’ll have to go outside again, professor – sir.” Anne told him. “I think you’re intelligent enough to visualize an imaginary door, Miss Symmons.” Anne shrugged. Anne walked back to where Snape was. “Imagine I have already knocked.” Patience sighed inwardly, she would have loved to see Snape impersonating a knock. Anne opened an invisible door. “Good evening professor, nice to see you, tell me why didn’t you use the doorbell?” Anne asked most kindly. Snape glared at her. “But please, come in.” She made way for him. He entered. “That was not at all bad, Miss Symmons. Mr. Alret, you’ll be next.” Anne sat down again while Hengist approached their teacher. He opened an imaginary door.

“No, Mr. Alret, I think I’m already at your home. You’ve seen how to open a door, haven’t you. Should you still need some practice you can do that with your friends. So, I’ve just entered your house. What do you think comes next?” ‘I’d call the police.’ Hengist thought to himself. “It’s such a pleasure to have you here. You haven’t changed a bit since I’ve last seen you. Please, why don’t you take a seat.” Hengist indicated to Snape the bewitched armchair. Patience and Anne giggled as silently as possible. “Thank you, Mr. Alret.” Snape replied and placed himself in the chair – nothing happened. “Do you want another cushion or do you feel comfortable?” Patience couldn’t help asking.

Anne let her head hang down. “No, thank you, Miss Wood, I feel very comfortable. I assume it’s your turn now.” He went on. Patience got up shooting an angry look at Hengist who did his best to ignore his friend’s anger. He sat down next to Anne again. “What did you do that for?” Anne hissed. “Miss Symmons, I still think you should pay attention.” Snape reminded her. Patience was standing next to Snape. “Can I offer you anything. A drink, a snack?” She asked over-kindly. “No, thank you.” He replied. She sat down again. “So you know how to behave after all. Who would have thought that.” Snape remarked provokingly.

That had been enough for Patience. She raised from her place again. “Please, professor, you must have a look at the house.” Patience offered. “I think I’ll be fine just sitting here, Miss Wood.” He replied. “But, professor, my mother always shows around the guests who visit us for the first time. Or maybe you have been here before.” Patience remarked sounding absentmindedly but having it already planned. “No, Miss Wood, of course I’ve not been here before.” Snape defended himself. He got up and followed her. Both Anne and Hengist walked behind them. Anne forgot to giggle because she was so excited. “No, Miss Wood, I cannot go to a girls’ dormitory.” Snape refused. “It’s nobody in there.” Patience said and went on.

Snape didn’t move. “Who shows a lack of manners now?” Patience whispered and with that she made Snape follow her upstairs. However before he entered he turned towards Hengist. “You’ll stay here!” He ordered. Hengist was both relieved and disappointed at the same time. After a couple of steps Snape stopped for the last time. “No, Miss Wood, I cannot enter a girls’ dormitory.” He said, turned and left the Gryffindor common room forever.

Patience couldn’t believe what she had just heard. “That’s not true, is it?” She asked unbelievingly. “He missed my biggest trick. He cannot simply walk away!” She said. Anne grinned. “You got rid of him! Next time he tries to give me a detention, I’ll tell him that I can only do it in the dormitory and that I need his supervision!” Anne mused. Hengist put his hand on Patience’s shoulder. “Make the best of it, Patience. He would have had you de-leg spiders for the rest of your life!” He said and left. “He missed my trick! I got to get him back!” Patience went on. Anne held her back. “Cool down, Patience, he’s gone. Get over it. Not all tricks can work out. You’ll get him another time. As for now, I think it best when we take down the nude pictures again and while doing so, we think of revenge. Hengist deserves one of your tricks for ruining your teacher-eating chair and besides, I came up with a new poem, want to hear it?” With that Patience and Anne went up to their dormitory.

The Axes of Evil

“Okay, how will we manage to skip Divination today?” Mike asked casually. They were practising how to effectively dodge swaying branches in Flying, and Madam Hooch never allowed more than three students to be in the air at the same time. “Maybe we should go there for a change,” Brian answered, but he was not really enthusiastic about it. “You can’t report sick again!” Ghewyn, who had overheard the exchange, told them. “Come off it, Miss Perfect,” Brian grunted and smoothed the tail of his broom. “Flatley, Cullen, Alret, it’s your turn,” Hooch called. Mike saluted mockingly and shouldered his broom. Ghewyn stared after them.

“I wish I had their nerve,” Patience said wistfully. “Your record is blotched enough without that,” Ghewyn hissed. Catherine giggled. “It’s like a magpie’s feathers – lots of black and a bit white.” Patience laughed out loud. “I like that!” Anne came over, still full of leaves from her less than successful flying. “Why don’t we use the Whomping Willow? That will reduce costs – less students,” she complained. “You weren’t that bad,” Patience consoled. “Yeah, but the twigs were,” Anne said grumpily. Patience shrugged. “You had but to dodge.” “I hate even flying straight on! Can you imagine how much I hate dodging things?” Anne glared furiously at her friend. Patience nodded. “I know. Maybe you should practise with birds – you’d dodge them, no doubt.” Even Anne had to laugh.

Hengist joined them, as well as Mike and Brian. “You’re really lucky, Miss Alret, you can go to the Hospital Wing,” Mike remarked. Hengist, who had a red streak across his face, winced – which was a rather painful thing to do. “I don’t think I’ll go,” he said. “Oh yes, you will,” Anne and Patience said in one voice. Hengist blinked. “I think I can very well decide for myself…,” he began. “No, you can’t,” Anne interrupted him sternly. “I shall accompany you to make sure you don’t slip off to Divination!” “Wish you’d take us along,” Brian groaned. Patience raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t been Divination for the last three lessons – even Trelawney will be aware of that!” “But it fits so nicely to our horoscopes,” Mike pointed out. “Oh, nonsense,” Patience waved it off. “I should have died at least three times to fit my horoscopes. Come on, you two, off to the mind-widening fires!”

“Mind-fogging, you mean,” Brian mumbled, but nevertheless he and Mike trudged along following Patience up to the Divination classroom. “At least it’s the last lesson of the day,” Nelly tried to cheer herself and the others up. “And it’ll be over soon,” Catherine added hopefully. Due to the fact that the herb-scented fires had been burning all day, the fog had grown ever thicker with each lesson. Now it was a hard job not to choke. Patience managed to find a seat near a window which could be opened discreetly.

“Bunch up,” Mike hissed. He and Brian fell down on either side of Patience. “Er… but….,” she stuttered. “Yes, love?” Brian simpered in an uncanny imitation of Trelawney. “Where shall Hengist sit?” she asked. Mike snorted. “He knows better than to turn up!” Professor Trelawney entered to tell the class they would revise crystal gazing that day. Patience groaned. She disliked crystal gazing, even more since she was never sure if she would see nothing but fog or clear, disturbing pictures. “Make it up, baby,” Mike and Brian whispered in one voice. “You are idiots,” Patience stated.

The crystal ball on the table as usual looked as if filled with fog. “I expect she lights a fire in these as well,” Brian suggested. Mike bent over the ball. He squinted to make out shapes in the fog, but there was nothing. He pushed the ball towards Patience. Dreading whatever was to come, Patience looked for the fog to clear up, hoping it would stay as thick. She was disappointed. Slowly, like a curtain being drawn back, the fog cleared up, revealing a dark corridor lit by torches.

Someone was there, someone whose movements made the flames flicker. And there was someone else – but this one was visible to Patience, while the other was nothing but a blurred shadow. This one was holding a thing in his hand, gleaming silver. A knife? A wand? Patience leaned closer. So did Mike and Brian, fascinated by the events unfolding. The visible man waved the silvery thing, and suddenly something dropped heavily onto the floor. A burning thing began to rise from the heap on the ground, forming a strange sign. It was most definitely not the Dark Mark. It was bluish, like the hottest part of the flame, and it looked like two crossed axes.

Without knowing why, Patience drew back, looking white and shaken. “Hey, little one, you won’t faint, will you?” Brian enquired worried. “No…” Patience answered, although she felt it could be likely. Professor Trelawney came over, attracted by the squeals of Nelly and Catherine. “What happened?” she asked concerned. “Patience saw something strange,” Brian reported truthfully. Mike lounged into the story and stopped only when he saw Professor Trelawney looking gravely at them – and not remotely excited, as she usually was when someone saw a sign of danger, like the Grim.

“You saw the Axes of Evil,” she said. “How odd.” Without another word, the professor turned and left the three. “What for Merlin’s sake are the Axes of Evil?” Brian voiced what they all thought. Suddenly Patience jumped up and threw her book into her bag “I have to go – I’m suffocating,” she said and dashed out,. Mike and Brian looked at each other. “Library after dinner?” Mike asked. Brian nodded.

While Patience told Anne and Hengist what she had seen, Mike and Brian looked through many books without success. “It’s a shame the Dark Arts book are in the Restricted Section,” Brian said and slammed a volume on Symbolism in Sorcery shut. Ole stared at him. “Dark Arts?” he repeated. “Sure – do you think the Axes of Evil are something nice?” Brian asked sarcastically. “But – Brian – we’ve got Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing tomorrow!” Brian understood at once. “Off to the Common Room – let’s hope Preston knows about these Axes!”

In the Common Room Patience was writing an essay for Transfiguration. “We’ll ask Preston,” Mike announced. “Ask him what?” Patience asked distractedly. “About the Axes, of course,” Brian answered. Patience looked up. “Listen, that’s nice, but we…” She looked at Anne and Hengist. “We think it might be nothing to know about,” Anne said evasively. Brian stared at her. “I mean,” Anne explained, “it might not be safe to ask Preston for information of something connected to the Dark Arts.” “Nor Snape,” Hengist added. Patience looked studiously at her parchment. She dearly wished she had never seen anything at all – never even taken the stupid subject of Divination!

“Hang on, those two are experts on the subject of Dark Arts,” Mike frowned. “Yeah. Ever wondered why?” Hengist asked. “You suspect them of having been in You-Know-Who’s circle?” Brian wanted to know. “Anne does,” Patience corrected. “They are also suspects for Binns’ death,” Anne coolly added. “But they also help us,” Patience pointed out. Hengist raised his hands. “Whatever they may be now, we can be sure they have a dark past. So don’t ask them, alright?” Brian and Mike agreed, though still puzzled.

It turned out they did not even need to ask. It was Nelly who brought up the subject: “Sir, have you ever heard about the Axes of Evil?” Patience turned chalk-white. Preston raised an eyebrow. “What an unusual question, Miss Dean. May I ask what caused your curiosity?” Nelly blinked. “We… mentioned it in Divination,” she said. “Thank you,” Patience mouthed gratefully and Nelly smiled.

Preston stepped towards the window. “Yes, the Axes of Evil… It has something to do with Dark Magic – but I doubt it is something that will return in future,” he began to explain. “I do not doubt all of you heard about the Dark Mark, the Dark Lord’s sign.” Preston looked around and saw many sad, grave faces. He nodded grimly. “The Axes of Evil were… were a kind of elite troupe.” Gasps answered him. “There were never more than six of them, sent out to execute special orders, mostly orders to kill. They were experts in the Forbidden Curses. Their sign were two crossed axes, axes like executioners have them.” Preston took a deep breath. “The Aurors never caught one of them,” he finished.

“Can they… are they still out there?” Connor asked, desperately trying to keep his voice steady. Preston shook his head. “It was always assumed they killed themselves after the Dark Lord vanished.” “Assumed?” Ghewyn had found the flaw. “Nobody knew who they were. The Axes of Evil were effective, because they could strike without being known, without being seen. But,” Preston sternly said, “that time is over. I am sure that Divination can also cover past events.” He smiled tensely. “We shall return to our subject, then.”

Dream Oracles

After the incident of the Axes of Evil turning up in Patience’s crystal ball, Professor Trelawney thought it wiser to turn to another subject. “Today we will turn to dream oracles,” she announced. The class groaned as she handed out copies of Dreams and Disaster. “She’s so in love with catastrophes, I wonder what I can come up with,” Brian muttered. Hengist grinned. “You could skin a Hippogriff,” he suggested. “Cool,” Brian accepted and scribbled it down. “Yeah, or behead a scarecrow,” Mike added. “Or something else that is dreadful,” Patience giggled.

“Attention please,” Trelawney said and swept to the front. “Now, please find a partner and tell them your last dream. Then try to interpret your dreams.” Patience and Hengist turned to each other. “I can’t remember,” Hengist whispered. Patience rolled her eyes. “As if that mattered – make something up.” “Alright.” Hengist frowned and rubbed his temples. “I dreamed that I was… I was… Oh, I don’t know.” He pushed the book towards Patience. “Your turn.”

“I dreamed that I was flying on a carpet over a desert when suddenly an owl popped up and gave me a letter that said I had been elected Minister for Magic,” Patience promptly answered. Hengist grinned. “Okay. Then let’s see what the book says on flying carpets, owls, letters, and lunacy.” Patience laughed. “Why lunacy?” “You’re not seriously thinking you could become Minister for Magic, are you? I mean, you’d need a record like young Percy’s for that,” Hengist pointed out. Patience grimaced. “Then I’d better settle for another career. So, what about carpets?”

Hengist quickly skimmed through the book. “Carpets, flying carpets, are either a sign for sudden death or a sign for a long travel.” “I take the second one,” Patience cut in. Hengist raised his hand. “Wait, Patience. You must see the other things first, then you can decide. Owls mean wisdom. Together with letters, they mean wisdom is coming to you through books or other writings. Letters are also a sign for upcoming news.” Hengist looked up. “Bad news, too, which brings us back to the flying carpet. Letters and flying carpets mean a very sudden death.” Patience groaned. “She’ll love that – and all of that out of a perfectly normal dream!” Hengist shrugged. “See, you’ll gather a lot of wisdom and then die a sudden death,” he concluded. Trelawney caught the last words, and her eyes misted. “That is so appropriate, Miss Wood,” she sighed and walked on. Hengist blinked. “She is so mad,” he stated. Patience nodded vigorously.

At that moment there was a gasp behind them. Hengist turned around and saw Mike look as shocked as he had never seen him before. “What’s wrong?” Hengist enquired. “A killer for my friend,” Mike croaked. “Brian?” Patience asked. Brian looked thoroughly bemused but nodded slowly. “He has just told me his dream of last night,” Mike explained. “He said he had invited some twenty strangers and served them tea – poisoned tea. And then he watched them die and enjoyed himself!” Patience drew in her breath sharply. “That’s horrible.”

Hengist frowned. “Hang on – poison? That requires some skill in brewing,” he thought aloud. Brian grinned. “You mean I’m not that good,” he said. Hengist nodded. “Nice, but true.” Mike relaxed a little. “Well, we can’t be sure that this is a bad sign,” he pondered and began to look for poisoned tea and murder in the dream oracle.

But their conversation had drawn the attention of Nelly, Catherine and Ghewyn, who were shocked to get to know about Brian’s morbid dreams. “Would you really enjoy watching people die?” Ghewyn asked half-disgusted, half-fascinated. “No,” Brian replied at once. Professor Trelawney turned around and saw the cluster of students. “What is wrong?” she asked. “Brian had a dream about murder by poison,” Mike reported. Trelawney looked alarmed. It was one thing to have dreams interpreted to disaster, but a really disastrous dream was of another quality. To her immense relief, the bell sounded and announced the end of lesson. “No homework today,” Trelawney said. Everyone stared at her, but she waved them out of the room.

“Good to know we don’t have to do a dream diary – I heard last year’s class had to,” Catherine said. “Yes, but isn’t it strange? It’s like the Axes-thing,” Patience said thoughtfully. “You mean she is covering up something?” Brian wanted to know. Patience shrugged. “Might be – no, Brian, I’m not fearing you could kill me,” she added hurriedly, seeing Brian’s hurt look. “You better had not,” Brian mumbled.

All through lunch he was very silent, and when Anne asked him what was wrong he only said “Ask Hengist or Patience” before falling silent again. Patience filled Anne in who looked amused. “If I told you once I told you a thousand times that Divination is complete and utter rubbish.” “Yes, we know your position – but what do you make of it?” Hengist asked. Anne grinned. “What I said: rubbish.” Brian listened avidly. “Brian,” Anne turned to him, “listen, a dream is a dream – although it is strange that your subconscious tells you killing people is fun!” Hengist grimaced. “As if we never dreamed about killing.” “No,” Anne said. “I dream of dead people, yes, but… I didn’t kill them!” “I’m not sure, I might have dreamed of killing once,” Patience said, “but I usually don’t remember my dreams.” Hengist frowned. “You remembered the one well enough,” he said. Patience grinned. “I made it up, Hengist dear.” Mike suddenly nudged Hengist hard. “Look,” he hissed, pointing at the teachers’ table. “Trelawney’s missing.” Hengist nodded slowly. “Strange.”

Trelawney was missing because she was pacing her classroom. A grey cat made its way to her and purred. “Who are you?” the teacher asked distractedly and caressed the warm fur. Then she realized: “You are Bethesda. Well, Bethesda, that is a strange thing, with your mistress – maybe I should tell the headmaster to forbid her doing Divination.” Trelawney sighed and sat down, taking Bethesda onto her lap. “But then again, maybe it is better for her to know what is coming. And it was Cullen who had the dream about killing – all the worse.” She opened her copy of Dreams and Disaster, knowing all too well that the book could be of no help at all. “Maybe, Bethesda, I should report sick for today.”

“It’s not strange at all,” Ghewyn curtly told the Magpies and Mike. “Professor Trelawney rarely descends to meet us, because her inner eye is clouded otherwise.” Anne suppressed a giggle. Ghewyn looked haughtily at her. “She is very sensitive, Professor Trelawney.” “Unfortunately she’s not very sensible,” Anne murmured. Ghewyn turned away disgusted. Mike grinned at Anne. “True, very true.” “But what Ghewyn said was true as well,” Patience threw in. Anne stared at her. “No, I’m not the new member of Trelawney’s fan club. But she is not often down here, that’s true,” Patience explained. “So what do you think?” Hengist asked. Patience shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Dumbledore, sensing something was amiss, decided to look for Sybil Trelawney. He climbed up the ladder and found the teacher bent over many open books with a cat sitting next to her as if reading as well. He smiled. “Sybil, what is it?” he asked gently. Trelawney looked up. “Oh, Professor Dumbledore. This year we should really think of not doing Divination,” she sighed. “Sybil! Why?” the headmaster asked and looked at one of the books. “Ah. Dream oracles. I think somebody dreamed something you did not like?” “Well, yes,” Trelawney admitted. Dumbledore nodded. “Yes. I see. Now, will you tell me?” She did tell him, and Dumbledore rubbed his nose. Then he took a book and said, “Why not see it that way? Most perfectly normal dreams can be interpreted to be cruel and vicious. This dream is in itself cruel and vicious, so… most probably, this dream is as innocent as anything.”

Trelawney stared at the headmaster. She seemed not to understand. “Sybil, find a meaning that is soothing. You and I know that every interpretation is doubtful. You cannot give the interpretation of anything – it is a subjective view,” Dumbledore seriously said. Trelawney sighed. “I see. I shall do that.”

Brian was subdued all trough the other lessons. His mood did not really change on Friday, and the weekend was only slightly better thanks to Quidditch. It was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, and it was snowing wildly so that the players had a hard time seeing anything. So had Patience. “Now it’s Bagoony flying low – is that the Snitch? No, it’s an extremely big snowflake,” Patience commented. The pitch roared with laughter. It was all funny until suddenly white snowballs began to zoom around the pitch, distracting players. “Who was this?” Patience asked flabbergasted. “You!” chorused the whole Slytherin stand. “Yeah, you wish!” Patience replied. “I’d have made them follow my own team, you idiots!” Now the others laughed as well, because the snowballs had not been aimed properly and followed wildly every player on the pitch. “Miss Wood!” McGonagall said sharply. Patience turned and shrugged apologetically. The teacher sighed and nodded. The snowballs stopped and thumped down to splatter on the ground after Madam Hooch had stunned them. Unfortunately the bludgers also fell down as they looked like snowballs themselves and had been stunned as well. Madam Hooch blew a whistle and ended the match – for that day. So far no team had made any points, and the match would either be resumed Sunday afternoon or the next week, on Saturday morning, so that the other matches could take place as usual.

“That must be a first,” Brian commented. Patience joined her friends. “It is not,” she reported. “McGonagall says there has been a case in 1786 and one in 1888 where the matches had to be cancelled and resumed.” “But a first in this century,” Mike laughed. “Yes, that’s true.”

So on Sunday morning the match went on. The snow was glittering thanks to the frost, and the ground was frozen hard, as Ravenclaw Seeker Ashraf Bagoony felt painfully when he crashed onto the ground after a very unsuccessful Porskoff Ploy. But still, he had caught the Snitch. Patience was deeply disappointed when she announced another match lost for Gryffindor.

Divination on Tuesday afternoon was awaited with breathless excitement. What would Trelawney say about Brian’s dream? But the teacher said nothing. They had to check for certain common dream symbols and make a chart to fill in during the week. “So we need to mark which symbols we dreamed of how often – oh my,” Hengist groaned. Patience didn’t listen. Trelawney came over to Mike and Brian and said in a low voice, “Mr Cullen, your dream has nothing at all to do with murder.” “But with death?” Mike asked. “Yes, but not in the way you are thinking of. It was prejudices overcome that you saw. You killed parts of yourself you disliked,” Trelawney explained. “Oh,” Brian said. He did not know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

From that lesson on Trelawney was very careful and asked less about personal experiences that exceeded the usual. Divination was still a subject full of dreadful deaths and dark forebodings, but they seemed to affect the class less than unknown people around them.

The Killer Beans Strike Again

For weeks Anne and Patience kept investigating without any visible success. Without explicitly saying so, Snape as well as Preston helped them. Once, Preston called Anne into his office to tell her that Binns really had been poisoned but no stranger had entered the castle. Snape told Patience exactly the same, adding: “And considering that whoever has killed Binns is still here you should be more careful. By the way, I just made up the poison. This is it.” He showed Patience a clear liquid. “How much does one need to poison somebody?”, Patience asked curiously. Snape quickly put the small vessel away. “Only one drop is enough”, he said.

“Who do you think is behind it?” Snape shook his head. “I don’t know. There seems to be no reason, Miss Wood. Binns has never harmed anyone.” Patience agreed with that. She thought Snape much more likely to be poisoned, by a student most probably.

In the Gryffindor common room the talk had turned over to the next Quidditch match on Saturday. Oliver had been promised to play. He tried more than once to tell his sister, but Patience simply ignored him. Her mind was occupied with murder. Nelly Dean suddenly groaned and caught her throat. Anne looked up from her Defence Against the Dark Arts homework. Patience was already half up. “Oh my god!”, she gasped, running to the portrait hole to fetch Madam Pomfrey. She ran into Snape on the stairs. “Nelly, she’s eaten Every Flavour Beans.” Snape didn’t answer but turned instantly and ran down into the dungeons to fetch some antidote. He must have been nearly flying for he was back in a much shorter time Patience had expected him to be. She opened the portrait hole for him. Pushing Anne aside Snape bent down to Nelly and opened her lips to give her the antidote. Nelly’s face was ashen grey by now and she had lost conscience. Ghewyn was crying silently, consoled by Catherine. Oliver stood open-mouthed, staring at the scene in front of him. They waited, Catherine and Ghewyn sobbing, what would happen the next minutes.

Suddenly Nelly coughed. Snape looked relieved. “That was very close”, he breathed. Then he took Nelly up and carried her to the Hospital Wing. “Do you still think Snape the prime suspect?”, Patience asked Anne rather shakily. Anne nodded. “More than ever”, she confessed. “I mean, why did he have the antidote prepared?” “Oh, please, he isn’t stupid.” Patience had to stop for Hengist was obviously listening to their conversation. He was playing with the box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour beans. “Hengist, give them to me”, Patience commanded. “Hey, calm down, I won’t eat them”, he answered, shaking the beans. Patience grabbed the box. “They are evidence!”, she explained and rushed out, followed immediately by Anne. “Where are you going?”, Anne asked. “Dumbledore. We can’t deal with it any longer.” “But do you know where to go?” “I hope so.” Anne followed, wondering if they would ever reach any destination. But they did. Patience stopped and said “Vanilla pudding.” Anne burst into laughter, but a door opened. “See?”, Patience said triumphantly.

When she knocked at Dumbledore’s door and opened it she saw – Snape. He was reporting the latest incidents. “Ah, Miss Wood, Miss Symmons”, Dumbledore said smiling. “I just said to Severus he should have brought the box.” Snape looked furious and snatched the box from Patience. “Thank you, Miss Wood”, Dumbledore kindly said and examined one of the beans carefully. “You already know which poison has been used, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t have had the antidote prepared.” Snape confirmed that. “Very well. Why then didn’t you come to me?” It was a very good question, Anne and Patience had to admit. But it could have been posed to them as well. “I thought you already knew”, Snape said. Dumbledore nodded. “That is of course right. But still… Well, to ask one other question: Just who do you suspect? Every one of you?” Dumbledore looked straight into their eyes. Anne shivered involuntarily. “Professor Snape”, she whispered. “A student”, Patience said with wide eyes. “Maybe a stranger?”, Snape suggested.

“I thought so. You do not know who could be behind it. I have a very good clue to who it is, believe me. Miss Wood, take my credits, you’re closest to the solution.” Snape and Anne stared at Patience who had blushed. “Who do you suspect?”, Anne asked curiously. “Nelly”, Patience answered, lowering her eyes when Snape stared coldly into them. “But she ate beans herself”, he reminded Patience. “That is what made me suspicious”, Patience explained. “I mean, all Gryffindors recognized something was odd about Every Flavour Beans, the way they always vanished and so on…” Dumbledore nodded. “I will accompany you to the Hospital Wing”, he said resolutely and got up.

Nelly was not really herself, Madam Pomfrey warned them. “I know, Poppy, I know”, Dumbledore soothed her. He went to Nelly’s bed. “Nelly, just tell me what happened”, he said in his warmest voice. Nelly started sobbing. “I… I… I have been in Professor Snape’s office and I have stolen ingredients and taken them to… to someone else”, she started. Dumbledore nodded encouragingly. “Then I was told to take a box of Every Flavour Beans to Professor Binns. He ate one and fell asleep.” Patience found it hard to restrain herself from screaming Nelly was a murderess. “I see. Thank you, Nelly,” Dumbledore said thoughtfully. “There is something even darker behind all that. If I only knew who was behind it…” But Patience suddenly knew it. She excused herself and Anne and dragged her friend away.

“Anne, I know who is behind it, I simply don’t see how he managed it!”, she whispered excitedly. They were in a dark corridor leading up to Gryffindor tower. There were no pictures around, no ghosts even. Only steps behind them. They didn’t care, for it was a common short cut to Gryffindor. “Stop, both of you!”, a familiar voice snarled behind them. Anne froze and Patience turned as if in slow motion. “So you’ve found out, my clever Miss Wood. Shouldn’t have told you so much, should I?”, the man asked, pointing his wand at them and making them walk backwards to the wall. “I’m so delighted to have a chance again to try my abilities. Have I never told you about my past?” he laughed, a high, almost insane laughter. “See, I was never much liked at school”, he told them. He seemed to enjoy the frightened looks on the girls’ faces. “But then I found people who needed me and my abilities. I was so proud to belong to them, and I served the Dark Lord faithfully. I wonder if you have already guessed as what I served him?” He looked at the two girls. Anne’s mind worked frantically, but she was unable to speak. Patience tried, and her voice sounded very small and timid: “You were one of the Six – one of the Axes of Evil.” Preston nodded, looking positively delighted. “It is a great honour, you know, to be killed by one of us. We were sent only to do the most important work. See, that’s why I was sent here years ago as a spy for him. Though he lives hidden now he still is well-informed. And now I received the call to fulfil my task.” Again he laughed.

Patience’s hand touched her wand inside her sleeve. She saw out of the corners of her eye that Anne did the same. He was still talking about his services for the Dark Lord. And then he said: “A pity I had to try it first but I couldn’t be sure that silly girl had brought me the right ingredients. So old Binns had to die. He was old enough. Who could have thought of his returning as a ghost?” Which brought to Patience’s eyes the perfect solution to all her earlier questions: ask Binns. No one had thought of simply asking the ghost who had given him the Every Flavour Beans. “I wanted to get on Dumbledore tonight, so I’m really sorry”, he said, smiling nastily at Anne and Patience. Patience’s thoughts were racing. Anne mouthed something to her and she nodded. “I never told you about the forbidden curses, did I? No, because I wanted to keep them hidden. I used the Imperius curse on Nelly. She acted only to my will. Wonderful. But you… I long to see if the Cruciatus curse still works. And then I will have to kill you!” He laughed wildly.

“Now!”, Patience shouted and Anne took her wand out the second Patience pointed hers at the man. They cried “Expelliarmus!” simultaneously. Preston’s wand flew out of his hands. He tumbled backwards. Anne quickly grabbed the teacher’s wand. There were more footsteps. Patience held her wand protectively in front of her. It was Dumbledore, together with Snape. “It was him!”, she said accusingly, pointing to Preston who was crouching to the wall, holding his head. “What did you do to him?”, Snape asked, dragging Preston up.” Nothing. We disarmed him”, Anne explained. “He said he had used an Imperius curse on Nelly. And that he was sent here by the Dark Lord to kill you, sir!” Dumbledore nodded sadly. “I shouldn’t have trusted him just because I pitied him”, he admitted. “Severus, please bring Hunter to my office. I will follow in a second.” Snape was not very kind to Preston when they left. “I thank you both, Anne, Patience. You will understand that I must forbid you never to tell anyone what has happened here. To all outsiders it was an accident how Binns died.” Dumbledore sighed. “I wouldn’t hush it all up. It’s bad enough You-Know-Who has still enough followers. But the Ministry says Hogwarts had to be closed if it ever is revealed.” He didn’t have to say more. As long as Hogwarts existed there was a bastion for the good against the bad powers. Anne and Patience promised silence.

Berryows

“Oh damn!”, Anne suddenly said the next morning. Behind Patience’s curtains a sleepy voice was heard: “What is it?”, Patience yawned. Anne jumped out of her bed and hurried to the wardrobe. “We’ve forgotten Hagrid!” That woke Patience instantly. She got up as well. How could they have been so forgetful? It was fortunate that it was a Sunday and no one would be awake for hours to come – it was only 6 o’clock in the morning. Without bothering to look for any breakfast the two girls set out into the chilly morning. Patience’s teeth clattered. “Stop that!”, Anne hissed irritably. “I would if I could, but it’s awfully cold!”, Patience complained. They walked as fast as they could over to Hagrid’s hut. Hagrid opened immediately. “There yeh’re at last. Thought yeh’d forgotten ol’ Hagrid!” “Well, we had to find the murderer of Binns”, Patience answered, looking to the blazing fire and rubbing her hands. “Want some tea, eh?”, Hagrid asked, smiling. Both Anne and Patience nodded thankfully. He poured them steaming tea into huge mugs. “Now, what I need yeh fer is ter take care of Fang fer a while”, Hagrid said mysteriously. “Why?”, Anne asked curiously. “That’s secret. Hogwarts business.” Patience grinned. “Just as well. We mustn’t tell you who the murderer was!” Hagrid looked deeply disappointed. “But we might do it when you tell us what your business is about”, Patience continued, smiling archly.

Hagrid seemed to think about that. At last he nodded. “Tha’s only fair, I reckon. Got ter go ter London fer Dumbledore. Wants me ter do something there, deposit something, yeh know.” “Aha. And what is that strange sound coming out of your yard?”, Anne asked. Hagrid went slightly pink – as far as the girls could judge for his beard covered most of his face. “I dunno what yer mean”, Hagrid said defiantly. “Of course not”, Anne grinned and walked to the back door to look out. “Hagrid!”, she shrieked. Patience drew near and went white as well. “What is that?”, she gasped. “Yeh should’ve seen ‘im when ‘e was still a baby”, Hagrid said, wiping his eyes. “’E was so sweet then.” “When exactly was this out there ever sweet?”, Patience asked carefully. “And when was it ever a baby?”, Anne added, still staring at the strange creature in the yard in disbelief. Hagrid sighed. “Only two day ago. See, they grow fast, ‘em.” “And what is that?”, Patience asked, beginning to get used to the creature and deciding that at least his teddy bear eyes were positively cute. Anne started to laugh. “I bet it’s a cross between a cow and a grizzly bear!”, she said. Hagrid looked a bit offended. “Nay, Anne, look, his eyes are really….” “Cute?!”, Anne finished the sentence. “Don’t tell me, this isn’t cute, it is weird!”

Hagrid growled: “Leave if yer don’t want ter see Marshmallow!” Now even Patience couldn’t help laughing. “And Marshmallow is a what?”, she managed to ask again. “Oh, right. He’s a berryow. They are very rare.” They must be, for neither Anne nor Patience had ever heard about a creature named berryow. “Where do they live?” “Anne, they live in Spain, and I got Marshmallow as a tiny baby in the pub at Hogsmeade.” Hagrid knocked at the window and Marshmallow looked up, his teddy bear eyes twinkling. Still, he was a really odd creature. Anne wasn’t all wrong in her thought of a cross between cow and grizzly.

Marshmallow had the head of a bear, but four legs rather like cow legs. He had not tail, but his feet ended in paws. His fur was all patched in brown and white. “Do you want to keep him here, Hagrid? Does Dumbledore know?”, Patience asked. Marshmallow had by now come to the window and Hagrid opened it. He girls stepped back a little, but Marshmallow seemed to be tame. “He says I shall send ‘im away”, Hagrid muttered, patting Marshmallow’s nose. Marshmallow made a sound that reminded Patience of Bethesda’s purring. She giggled. Suddenly, Marshmallow imitated her. “He is able to imitate sounds?”, Anne asked. Hagrid nodded proudly. “’E’s a clever one, Marshmallow.” “And where do you send him to?”, Anne asked, changing topics quickly. “To London I’ll take ‘im, then someone else’ll take care of ‘im”, Hagrid explained. “But the headmaster promised ter make sure Marshmallow’s in good hands. Great man, Dumbledore.” “And let me guess”, Patience said, cautiously stretching out her hand and touching Marshmallow’s warm and fluffy nose, “you called us because you wanted to show us a berryow baby.” Hagrid nodded. “But yer were ter busy catching Preston. Mind you, that was a good thing ter do. I never quite understood how an idiot like that ever became a professor.” Hagrid shook his head and fed the berryow a lump of sugar. “Nice of yer ter come and see Marshmallow before ‘e’s off.”

The girls went back to the castle, giggling about the berryow. “I’ll never be able to look at your teddy bears again without thinking of Marshmallow”, Anne laughed. Patience nodded. “I guess so. But we’re late, I bet we’re in trouble if we don’t run now!” The day had passed much too quick for both of them. Hagrid and Marshmallow had been much too interesting. When they reached the Entrance Hall after a sharp run, they were both out of breath. “Where have you been?”, the stern voice of McGonagall asked them. “We… we were down at Hagrid’s”, Patience panted, clutching her side. McGonagall’s face became a bit softer. “Yes, the berryow”, she said lowly. “Quickly up to Gryffindor!” Anne and Patience couldn’t believe their luck.

Parents’ Worries

Owls had flown to Cumbria and Alberbury the day Patience and Anne had defeated Hunter Preston single-handedly. The letters Dumbledore had sent had not been warnings that the girls were close to being expelled. Quite the contrary. Nevertheless, Joan and Rupert Wood were rather worried.

“Did you know Dumbledore sent owls to our parents?” Patience asked shocked. The mail had just been brought, and Patience was reading a letter from her mother. Oliver grinned broadly. “So you’re in for a lecture – cool, so it’s not me this time!” he rejoiced. Patience grimaced. Anne shrugged. “If my parents also got such a letter, they don’t bother.” Patience sighed. “Sometimes I wish my parents were like yours – I definitely do so!” she suddenly shrieked. “Mum and Dad are coming here. Tomorrow!”

“No way,” Oliver spluttered through a mouthful of egg. “It’s true. They say they want to talk to the headmaster. And the teachers, well, some of them,” Patience reported. Then she buried her face in her hands. “Oh, why me?” she groaned. Hengist and Anne looked at each other. “We’re going to be there as well,” Hengist resolved. Anne nodded. “Come what may, we’ll be at your side.” “Thanks,” said Patience, still not looking up. Anne gently wrought the letter out of her friend’s hand and began to read herself.

“Maybe you can report ill?” she asked and handed the letter to Hengist who also read it. “Or maybe you ask to be sent to another school?” he suggested. Oliver frowned. “What? That’s stupid – she’s not going to be expelled, is she?” “Worse. Your parents want to talk to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape,” Hengist explained. Oliver was too shocked to answer.

Meanwhile, Rupert and Joan Apparated safely in Hogsmeade. “It’s been quite some time since we were here, hasn’t it, darling?” Rupert asked, looking around fondly. “Oh yes. There, that’s the coffee shop of Madame Puddifoot, isn’t it? You used to hate it!” Joan laughed. “Every boy hated it,” Rupert cheerfully said. “We all went there just because you girls were so keen to go there – and hey, we did want to kiss you!” Joan shook her head and took her husband’s arm. “Let’s see what our Helena is doing.”

Hogwarts greeted its former students with immaculate blue sky and sunshine, and as it was lunch break, students were aswarm in the grounds. “It looks not different than when we left,” Joan stated amused. At that moment a group of boys ran past them, and one turned, calling, “Hey, Wood, that’s your mum, isn’t it?” And from amidst the group emerged Oliver, his head red and hot. “Hi mum, dad,” he muttered. “Verres. How are you?” Rupert asked and patted his son’s shoulder. Joan restrained herself from embracing the boy. It was bad enough they had turned up, she sensed. So instead she looked demonstratively at her watch. “Rupert, Professor Dumbledore will be waiting,” she said. Oliver looked deeply relieved. “You know the way, don’t you?” he asked tentatively. “Sure,” Rupert assured his son. “See you, then,” Oliver said happily and ran off.

“What do you think Helena will say?” Rupert asked concerned. “She’s fifteen, she’s my daughter, and she’s extremely sensitive, so… She’ll be devastated,” Joan guessed. “Why did we come, then?” Rupert asked his wife. Joan frowned. “To talk to the teachers. They know about Helena’s… abilities, and still they don’t seem to care!” Rupert swallowed. “Of course, dear,” he demurred.

They entered the cool hall. “Joan, Rupert – how nice to see you again!” “Professor McGonagall!” both Joan and Rupert exclaimed. “I’m here to take you to the headmaster. Did you see your children?” “Oliver, we nearly ran into him,” Rupert reported. “And we will look for Patience later,” Joan added. McGonagall stopped and raised an eyebrow. “She is there, as well as Hengist and Anne.” “No, she should not be,” Rupert immediately said. “She insisted on being there,” McGonagall only replied. They had reached the gargoyles, and McGonagall clearly said: “Cherry soda.” The spiral staircase opened and led the Woods and McGonagall safely upwards. There, in the circular office, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk. Professor Snape was sitting on a chair as far away from the students as possible, while the Magpies huddled together on three chairs to the right. Patience jumped up when she saw her parents. “Hello, mum, dad,” she said. Her cheeks were burning, but her voice was admirably steady. “Hello dear,” Joan answered and kissed her daughter. “Helena,” Rupert nodded and smiled. “Hello, Anne, Hengist,” he then said. Joan also nodded to the two students.

“Welcome, Rupert and Joan, it’s been some time,” Dumbledore, who had watched the scene, said and came round his desk to shake hands with his visitors. “Headmaster, we are grateful you had the time to see us,” Rupert replied. “However, we did not think our daughter and her friends would be present.” Dumbledore winked at the Magpies. “Patience insisted on being there,” he said. Joan turned to her daughter. “Helena, love, you do not think we are here to accuse you?” “In a way, I do,” Patience admitted, chin raised, eyes blazing. Snape had to hide a smile. How well he knew that expression!

McGonagall also needed some effort to keep her face straight. “But, girl, you’re not to blame – we’re happy you’re still alive,” Rupert said flabbergasted. “Oh yes? And why then are you coming here?” Patience demanded. Anne gently tugged her sleeve, but Patience chose to ignore that. “Mum?” Joan blinked. "We wanted to talk with your teachers about what had happened,“ Joan said. “But they were not to blame either!” Patience triumphantly concluded. “More than you, to be sure,” Rupert promptly retorted. “And now,” he raised his hand to stop his daughter, “Patience, Anne, Hengist, if you were so kind to leave us alone?”

“But – Professor Dumbledore!” Patience turned to the headmaster. “I promise you that we will talk later, Patience,” the headmaster said softly. “But now, as your parents wish to talk to us alone, please leave.” Patience gave her parents an angry glance and dashed out, followed more slowly by Hengist and Anne. Outside she leaned against the wall. “I’m not going to move a single step further,” she declared. Scarcely had she finished the sentence, when the spiral staircase set into motion and transported her and her friends to the bottom again.

Upstairs, Dumbledore went back to his seat. “Please sit down,” he invited the Woods. “Why can’t you protect Patience better?” Joan blurted out. “We did not know about the girls finding out about Professor Preston. A weak excuse, I know,” Dumbledore sighed, “and I can never find a better.” “You know Patience is clever, and with Anne and Hengist together simply unbeatable,” Rupert pointed out. “I doubt that,” Snape muttered. “She beats you easily, as far as her grades say,” Rupert smirked. Snape raised an eyebrow but was virtually defeated. “Sir, you know that she is…” Joan interrupted herself and looked at McGonagall and Snape. “Do they know?” she asked apprehensively. Dumbledore nodded. “Minerva does, and Severus will keep it a secret, of course.” The potions master nodded briskly. “She is a Moon Child, and she needs protection.” Joan looked at Dumbledore. “You failed abysmally so far.”

“Joan, your daughter is fine, and her abilities are thriving even without the initiating spell, which shows me that she has extraordinary strength. She is unbeatable together with Hengist and Anne, and we intend to keep them together as long as possible.” Dumbledore folded his hands on the table. “Of course we should not have encouraged their search for Professor Binns’ murderer…” “You did what?” Rupert bellowed.

“I helped them,” Snape revealed. “And Hunter did as well. Unfortunately all of us but Patience and Anne failed to see what was behind his mask.” “Anne,” McGonagall threw in, “has a suspicious mind and therefore sometimes clearer sight than trusting Patience. And if the two of them get carried away, Hengist will take them back to earth.” “That’s why they work together so wonderfully,” Dumbledore summed things up. “Wonderfully – they ended up facing a Death Eater’s drawn wand,” Rupert sarcastically pointed out. Dumbledore leaned forward. “Rupert, Joan – I know this sounds dreadful, but it was good they ended up facing a Death Eater. They proved their value, even being that young. You can be proud.” “Value!” Joan said derisively. “Value. Yes. Joan, please understand…” “I don’t even want to understand. If there were any other school I could send my daughter to, I would,” Joan declared, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Now, that goes a bit far, dear,” Rupert said calmly. “However, Professor, we want you to keep the girl from any danger. All of you are responsible. If necessary, tell everyone that Patience is a Moon Child.” “That I won’t,” Dumbledore retorted. “But we shall all try to keep her from real danger.” “Good.” Rupert rose. “And I don’t think my daughter should know of the topic of our conversation.” “She will never know,” McGonagall promised.

When the Woods emerged from between the gargoyles, Patience dashed to them “What’s going on?” she wanted to know. “We just wanted to make sure that something like that will not happen again,” Rupert truthfully said. “So you had Snape sacked?” Anne asked hopefully. “No, why?” Rupert enquired surprised. “Never mind, dad. Anne thinks he’s suspect number one for every evil deed,” Patience sighed. Hengist grinned and got nudged by Anne.

“Do you? Well, he seems a sensible man after all,” Joan said thoughtfully. “Now, Helena, we want you to know hat we are very proud of you. Of you two, as well,” Rupert told the Magpies who beamed. “But,” Joan added, and her tone made the beam vanish, “if you ever do anything like that again, we will personally see to it that your wands are confiscated!” “No!” the Magpies exclaimed in one voice. “Then keep a low profile,” Rupert advised.

A Poet’s Curse

Hengist Alret had not forgotten the challenge of Slytherin Ramon Vargas, though thanks to Snape he hadn’t been able to follow it. He couldn’t help hissing “Beware midnight!” every time Vargas came near him. But Hengist also was in constant alert. Patience, who had once jokingly sneaked up to him from behind, found herself on the floor laughing madly – Hengist hit her with a tickling charm. From this incident on neither Patience nor Anne forgot to approach Hengist carefully. After a time everyone knew Hengist was extremely irritable. His irritability increased every time they had lessons with the Slytherins. It was only good Brian Cullen and Mike Flatley took it upon them to take Hengist between them and so be able to restrain him. When it was clear Hengist was short of exploding Patience kept her wand pointing at him.

On an especially fine day they had yet another flying lesson. Of course they were by now practising difficult manoeuvres. “Today we will practise some Quidditch”, announced Madam Hooch. Patience’s face lit up instantly. Anne groaned. “Not that – at least not with these Slytherins!” “I think we will have two teams. I’ll choose the players.” Madam Hooch’s experience made her decide quickly. “Slytherin keeper Vargas, beater Cook, chaser Banks and seeker Pallet. Don’t look so disappointed, we never have complete teams in lessons. Gryffindor keeper Cullen, beater Flatley, chaser Symmons, seeker Hayes.” “Oh no, not me, let Patience be chaser!”, Anne exclaimed horrified. Madam Hooch looked sternly at her. “Miss Wood will have her turn as well. Mount your brooms, please.”

They played a bit, but as Anne did not want to play she didn’t go to excesses to get the quaffel. Patience was yelling angrily up to her. “Do you want them to win? Go, get the damned quaffel!” Madam Hooch blew her whistle. “Miss Symmons, come down, Mr Flatley as well. Miss Wood, please be a better chaser and maybe Mr Alret will be able to get a bludger the right way!” Mike Flatley laughed. His favourite aim had been his friend Brian Cullen instead of the Slytherins. Anne was happy to be on the ground again. Patience took her chance and raced for the quaffel, surprising Roland Banks completely and scoring instantly. The bludger (Madam Hooch had let only one free) was by now hitting Slytherins.

But then it happened: Catherine, having seen the snitch, dived very abruptly and accidentally touched Hengist’s broom. Turning furiously around, Hengist pointed his wand at her and bellowed: “Poeta!” Patience shrieked “No!”, but it was too late. Madam Hooch called them all down again. “Are you well, Miss Hayes?”, she asked concerned. Catherine nodded. “Mr Alret, 5 points from your house. You are not allowed to curse someone here!” Hengist nodded sadly. “I’m sorry, Catherine”, he said quietly. “I am well, despite the spell”, Catherine answered.

Patience buried her face in her hands. “I fear it has worked”, she whispered. The Slytherins were doubling up with laughter. “C’mon Catherine, we’ll leave”, Anne said helpfully. “This is nothing Madam Pomfrey can mend”, Patience scolded Hengist. He was very pale. “But it can be healed?” Patience shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I remember someone told there was a potion, but I’ll have to look it up.” “I’ll help you”, Hengist offered. “Just cover up for me, it’s most probably in the Restricted Section. I’ll go tonight.” Patience looked very determined.

In the evening she prepared everything carefully. In the pockets of her robe she had her quill, ink and a piece of parchment. Her wand was there as well – and Patience would take Bethesda with her. Anne looked sceptical. “And you think this cat of yours will listen to what you say?” “Yes. Bethesda will be the perfect scapegoat for every noise and moreover she might be able to warn me so that I have a chance to escape Filch and Mrs Norris.” Bethesda purred as if she agreed and Patience caressed her. “Why don’t we play another game? You seem to me so sullen, tame!”, Catherine cried when Ghewyn gave up Wizard’s Chess. Anne rolled her eyes. “Better be quick in finding a remedy, I don’t think I can stand rhyming Catherine much longer.”

Patience waited a second, making sure not too many people noticed her going out. She could only hope no one had remarked that she had put on a hooded cloak over her robes. But that was necessary, her bright red hair would be spotted too easily. “Lumos!” Patience didn’t want to fall down the stairs or something. “My dear, you look like a ghost!”, a voice suddenly said. Patience jumped, stifling a scream in the very last second. “Sir Nicholas!”, she whispered. “I’m not here, you never saw me!” Nearly Headless Nick sighed. “Isn’t it odd? I’m talking to myself”, he said, twinkling at Patience who smiled back in relief and hurried on as calm as she could manage.

She got into the library without any problems. Sneaking into the Restricted Section now should be no problem. But what was that? Patience stopped dead. “Nox”, she whispered to extinguish the treacherous light of her wand. Bethesda walked on, but carefully. There were voices, no doubt. Someone was there. But who had business in the library at night? Ducking behind a shelf, Patience crept nearer to where Bethesda waited. From there she could peep through a hole in the lines of books to see who was talking. If Patience had pictured a worst-case scenario, this would be it. There were 3 people, and none would be too pleased to see a student out of bed by now: Professors McGonagall and Snape, and worst of all, Dumbledore. Patience hardly dared to breathe. A fourth voice came out of the shadows, and a fifth. Patience sank to the ground. Professors Flitwick and Sprout had arrived. “I know this is an unusual place to meet”, Dumbledore excused his scheme. “But we need to decide quickly about the position vacant. If we had all the staff here it would take us at least a week.” The four House Teachers agreed. “I would suggest to appoint a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher as soon as possible and simply fill in for the time being”, Dumbledore suggested. Snape looked disgruntled. Flitwick nodded vigorously.

“And who do you think should do that, Albus?”, McGonagall asked, looking not too pleased. Patience wanted to know that as well but had to fight to keep Bethesda silent who just at that moment wanted to play. “… so I think it’s best that way”, was the next thing Patience heard. Dumbledore seemed to have settled things to the satisfaction of the House Teachers. Patience was furious. Now she had obviously missed the best part. But she could not help it, and at least the end of the meeting gave her the time to sneak into the Restricted Section. No one was likely to come back, unless… No, nothing lay there forgotten. Still, Patience waited a few minutes before lighting her wand again. She found loads of interesting books.

“Some day, Bethesda, I’ll somehow be able to read them all”, she whispered wishfully, running her fingers lovingly over Julianna Rossfeld. A witch’s life in 14th century Europe. Why this book was restricted she soon found out for blood was trickling out of its pages. Nothing a cleaning spell couldn’t remove, though. And then she had it. Poeta Recurrans the book was called. Written in 18th century it dealt only with the poeta curse and held also the recipe for healing its effects.

Patience placed the book on a table and hurriedly scribbled down ingredients and how to do it. It did not sound too difficult. And what was best: there were no unusual ingredients except fresh daisies, and these could be plucked outside the castle. Patience put the book back into the shelf. “C’mon, Bethesda, we have to go!”, she hissed. Bethesda came at once, carrying a dead mouse between her teeth. “Urgh! Oh, Bethesda, don’t leave it here.” Patience looked disgusted. She crept back through the empty, dark library. Bethesda carried the mouse until Patience closed the doors behind them. Then she dropped it and ran off. Patience followed more slowly. She still kept listening for other people. Up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower Patience extinguished her wand. Not a second too late! Someone was on the landing. But unfortunately this someone needed no light to see in the dark. “The cat of that strange girl!”, Peeves shrieked, diving towards Bethesda who spat at him and tried to scratch him. “Ha! Old Peevsey can’t be scratched, cattie!”, Peeves laughed. He made a somersault in midair. And then he spotted Patience trying to sneak past him. “Ha! Gotcha! Wee Missy Wood outta bed?” Peeves’ voice sounded over-friendly. Patience groaned. That seemed to make the poltergeist furious. “STUDENT OUT OF BED!”, he yelled.

Patience started to run upstairs. She thought she had a pretty good chance to make it. “Draco Dormiens!”, she called even before she had reached the Fat Lady. The picture swung open. Anne and Hengist were still in the Common Room. “Get – into –bed!”, Patience panted. The two jumped up and ran to their dormitories. Patience had thrown away her shoes and lay in bed, covered to the chin and Bethesda curled into a knot at her feet. Anne also scrambled into bed. And sure enough, a moment later the door opened quietly and Professor McGonagall looked into the room. She seemed to be satisfied everyone was asleep. They heard her descending to the Common Room. Only when there was complete silence Anne dared to whisper: “Have you go the recipe?” “Yes”, Patience answered. “We should do it right now. It was almost unbearable!”, Anne said, jerking her head towards Catherine’s bed. Patience shook her head. “We can’t. We need fresh daisies and thanks to Peeves no one may go out of the castle tonight.” Anne groaned. “So we’ll have to endure rhyming Catherine even longer!” Patience decided not to tell her friend that the potion would need to simmer for 24 hours.

“Good morning, my friends, the sleeping now ends!”, Catherine woke them all the next morning. Anne pulled her cover over her head. “Good morning, Catherine”, Patience yawned, rubbing her eyes. “I’m deeply sorry for what I’m going to do now”, she added, fumbling for her wand. “Quietus!”, she said. The other girls began clapping. Patience grinned and jumped out of bed. “No guarantee it works, mind. I only used it to de-sonore my voice after Quidditch!” Anne coughed and muttered: “You used it? It was either McGonagall or me who had mercy upon all creatures next to you!” Patience threw a cushion at her friend. “You should better hurry up.” At breakfast the Gryffindor table wondered at Catherine’s silence. Even if she wanted to speak, someone else cut in. “Is it still the poeta curse?”, a second year asked curiously. Nelly shrugged. “She’s got a bit of a cold and therefore no voice”, she explained.

Anne looked at her watch. “You know what? We have Defence Against the Dark Arts now!”, she exclaimed. Patience remembered the conference she had overheard in the library. “Anne!”, she whispered, tugging her friend’s sleeve. “What? Don’t destroy my robes!” “They want to fill in for Preston.” “Who?” “The four house teachers, I guess. Or only one of them.” Anne stared at Patience. “How do you know?” Patience blushed. “I forgot to tell you tonight, but I’ve overheard Dumbledore and the house teachers in the library”, Patience explained. Anne grinned. “That’ll be fun!”, she prophesied. Patience looked at her askance. “You really do think Snape will be fun?”, she asked, pointing to the teacher’s desk. Snape sat there indeed. Anne’s face fell. “But… there were three other choices!”, she complained. Patience nodded sadly. They took their places in the back of the class. Snape began Defence Against the Dark Arts the exact way he always begun a potions lesson. “I do not know how far you have got. This week I will be your teacher, the following week it is Professor Flitwick. Then Professors McGonagall and Sprout will teach you. So until we find a replacement you will have another teacher each week.” The students looked bewildered. “That does not mean you can get away with not doing you homework”, Snape continued. “All of us will know exactly what has been covered and what has been set for homework!” Then he told them to open their books. “Chapter 6, if you please.” Ghewyn dared to mention they had only got to chapter 4 so far. Snape stared coldly at her. “Indeed? Then chapter 5 will be your homework!” They all groaned and shot angry looks at Ghewyn.

Chapter 6 was at least interesting, it dealt with vampires. They learned how to recognise a vampire at once. “Guess what?”, Anne whispered. “Snape wears black, is pale, behaves strangely…” She didn’t have to finish her sentence. Patience and Hengist who had heard her had to hide their grins behind their books. After the lesson Anne spun her thread farther: “Snape works in the dungeons, is hardly ever seen outside. Who knows what is in his potions shelf?” Patience shook her head. “Anne, he is always in the Quidditch pitch, and then it’s broad daylight!”, she protested. Hengist laughed. “Indeed! And he’s a good potions brewer, so maybe he has found a potion to help him endure light!” The three of them giggled all the way to the green houses. “Oh”, Patience suddenly said, slapping her forehead. “Don’t”, Anne advised her motherly.

Patience bent down and plucked some daisies. “Oh”, Anne said as well. “No, you won’t touch them”, Hengist said, holding back Anne. “They need to be fresh, you said this morning, and when they see you they will die!” Anne tried to look offended but failed miserably. “Miss Wood!”, called Professor Sprout. “You can do your Valentine’s bouquet another time!” Patience went brick red, to the amusement of all others. John King’s face brightened up immediately. But Hengist threw his arms around Patience, exclaiming: “Oh, thank you darling!”, and taking the daisies out of Patience’s hands. She looked at him bewildered. “No fear, I’m not interested”, Hengist whispered. “Oh, thanks”, Patience snapped back. Anne raised her eyebrows. “He can’t serve you right, can he?”, she asked ironically.

The lesson, however, left them not much time to talk further. Hengist sometimes grinned at John King and ‘accidentally’ put his hand on Patience’s arm. At first she glared at him, but after some time she acted the loving girlfriend. Anne had a hard time stifling her laughter, for Professor Sprout was very irritable today. Some new plant hadn’t arrived yet and she had had to listen to Madam Pomfrey’s caterwauling for the whole week. When the lesson ended, all students had scratches on their hands. “These dragon hide gloves cannot protect us – so what does?”, Anne mused. “You”, Patience stated. “It was lucky you were there, for, even though these were the first plants that survived you, they were ill enough not to bite but only to scratch.” “They’d be perfect as a birthday present for Hagrid. Snap-dragons, really!” The two girls giggled. Hengist grinned as well. “Yeah, and then look at these cute Muggle snap-dragons, they only look nice, have no thorns and don’t bite!” “I think we really should ask Professor Sprout for a few of them to give them to Hagrid”, Anne persisted. “We should do something else”, Patience cut in. “Sorry to say that, but I fear we will miss lunch today.” Hengist looked disappointed. “Or rather, I’ll miss lunch. I’m in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom to brew our dearly needed remedy. Would be kind if you gave me the flowers, Hengist!” Patience stretched out her hands. Hengist bowed deeply and gave her the daisies. “Lovely flowers for a lovely lady!”

Snape passed them exactly at that moment and looked disgusted. Anne laughed so hard she began to hiccup. “Don’t talk”, Hengist advised her. “Okay, Patience, I’ll take Anne to lunch and we’ll come up as soon as we can. We’ll try to smuggle you something to eat to your little lab!” They had by now reached the Entrance Hall. Patience said aloud: “I’ll pack away my books. Just go to lunch, I’ll be there later!” Then she hurried upstairs. Catherine was still unable to speak. The teachers had taken no offence so far. Nelly had made Catherine wear a thick woollen shawl. Ghewyn had even proposed to look up a charm to make Catherine become ill. Mike Flatley had prevented that by saying Catherine would be sent to Madam Pomfrey at once and then the Quietus-charm would be discovered. “And you all know what would happen then!”, he said meaningfully. Catherine scowled at him. He shrugged. “Sorry, Cathy, you certainly have a lovely voice, but your rhymes are not quite Shakespearean.” The Gryffindor table roared with laughter at that.

Patience was in the meantime occupied with snatching little phials full of potions’ ingredients. She snatched her cauldron and winced at the thought that tomorrow she would have no cauldron in Snape’s lesson. She sighed. There was no help to that. The last thing she threw into the cauldron were the daisies. Careful not to raise too much attention she walked to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. The ghost was sitting on the floor. “Hi Myrtle”, Patience greeted her. “Oh, it’s you. This time you’re not being locked in here, are you?” “No, I’m not. Myrtle, listen, I have to brew a potion to help a friend of mine – but no one must know it. Will you allow me to use your bathroom for that purpose?” Patience thought that being polite would be the best way to treat Myrtle. The ghost seemed to brighten up. “Ooooh! Of course you may, yes”, she agreed. “You know, no one treats me politely usually. They all think me annoying!” Patience couldn’t help agreeing with that, but said: “But how comes that, Myrtle? I think nobody really knows you. Why don’t you tell me something about your… er… death?” Myrtle looked slightly offended. “My death is as uneventful as my life”, she said, tears prickling behind her thick glasses. “Oh? Well, that’s a pity. Myrtle, you could be a great help to me”, Patience suddenly said. Myrtle came nearer. “See that parchment? If you read out to me what I will need I would be quicker.”

So Patience and Myrtle worked together. The cauldron was placed in one of the cabins. Patience conjured up an “out of order”-sign and placed it on the door. “Thanks, Myrtle, I owe you”, she said casually before leaving the room. She leant against the wall. “I hope I don’t owe her more than telling a few people off for making fun of her”, she muttered. Hengist and Anne came towards her. “Did it work?”, Anne asked eagerly. “I think I’ve followed the recipe, yes. Now we’ll have to wait 24 hours…” “WHAT???”, Anne exclaimed. ”What do you think why I made Catherine lose her voice?”, Patience asked back ironically. Anne muttered something unintelligible. Hengist gave Patience a bit of bread and some cheese. “Thanks, Hengist”, Patience said. “By the way, does any of you know what I’m going to tell Snape tomorrow when I haven’t got any cauldron?” Neither Anne nor Hengist had thought of that.

Cauldron Troubles

Patience had a bad night full of nightmares. She dreamt she would be in the dungeons, telling a somehow grown Snape she had no cauldron. Snape developed three heads, all of them bellowing at her and giving her loads of detentions including clearing the whole castle of spiders. Patience was glad when she woke up in her cosy bed, Bethesda at her feet. Nevertheless she knew she would have to encounter Snape this morning. It was only 5 o’clock in the morning, but Patience couldn’t sleep any more. Her thoughts were circling around her cauldron. She decided to go to Moaning Myrtle.

“You’re early”, the ghost said. “Yes. How does our potion?” Myrtle grinned broadly. Patience didn’t remember when she had ever seen the ghost smile. “It’s wonderful. It simmers as it should, and it has turned lilac as you have told me it should!” Patience was happy about that. “You should go and have breakfast”, Myrtle suggested when steps came near. “Yes, I guess so. See you this afternoon, Myrtle!” She waved merrily at Myrtle and left the bathroom.

At the breakfast table all were giggling about Catherine’s way of talking. She used gestures and begged Patience a thousand times to make her voice come back. “No, Catherine, only this afternoon, okay?” Catherine nodded sadly. “Listen, why don’t you go to Madam Pomfrey and complain about headache?”, Hengist suggested. Patience shook her head. “No, I’m not going to take any pepperup potion. I’ll rather face Snape.” And that was what she had to do. Fortunately they had Potions first. Patience took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, ignored the Slytherins and walked up to the teacher’s desk. “Sir, my cauldron…”, she began awkwardly. Snape looked up. “Miss Wood, where is your cauldron?”, he asked sharply. “That is exactly the problem. It’s gone!” “A cauldron cannot be gone!”, he bellowed. Patience blushed violently but stood her ground. “But it’s not there, and no one has seen it. Maybe a practical joke from someone, but the fact is, I don’t have a cauldron right now!” Snape looked like exploding in the next second. But he didn’t. He jerked his head irritably to a door behind him. “Go there and fetch a cauldron. You will have to stay a little after the lesson to clean it thoroughly, mind!” Patience fetched an extremely old cauldron. “I bet it’s bewitched”, Anne whispered. “I think so too. I guess it’ll take some time to clean that old thing. But…” Patience grinned and took out her wand when Snape had his back towards her. She muttered a spell to make the cauldron resist any dirt. Hengist and Anne began to giggle. “Stop that, or Snape’ll remark something!”, Patience hissed, chopping her aristolochia roots carefully.

They made a complicated Swelling Solution. Snape had prepared some beetles to try it. Anne grinned. “He could have brought spiders, and just imagine Patience seeing a giant spider!”, she whispered to Hengist. The boy burst into laughter – which called Snape to them. “Alret, I don’t see what is so amusing. Your Potion seems to me a little too thick”, Snape snarled, taking a spoon and letting some of it fall into Hengist’s cauldron. “But if you would mix it with Miss Symmons’, you would have the right consistency.” Anne winced. She had known her potion was too liquid, but there was no help to it. A look into Patience’s borrowed cauldron was all, but Snape’s frown told a long story. Of course the cauldron should have been by now smothered in reminiscences of the various ingredients. Instead it was gleaming like brand new.

After the lesson (the beetles had grown the size of Fang and frightened Slytherin Rosemarie Holmes) Patience stayed behind to clean her cauldron. She was satisfied her spell had worked. Nothing, not the tiniest speck was left. Snape looked sour, but even he couldn’t say anything. To Anne, Hengist and Patience the hours till lunch break seemed to creep like slugs. “Talking of slugs, Anne, you really should not go near the green houses. Professor Sprout’s rare plant has arrived – and it was already eaten by slugs. She is very furious, and I don’t think she can stand another plant to die”, Mike Flatley informed the trio. “Oh, thanks, Mike, but as far as I know we haven’t got Herbology today”, Anne said rather stiffly. “But I have Divination now”, Patience sighed. “Yeah, right. Shouldn’t we do some advanced crystal gazing today?”, Hengist asked. Patience groaned. “Fascinating. If I ever see something through that mist, I’ll pay you each a galleon!” “And if Professor Trelawney sees something we must have a huge celebration!” They all laughed, but it was a rather tight laugh. They all wondered if their potion would work.

Anne had a free lesson by now and strolled over the lawn towards the green houses. No sooner had Professor Sprout seen her than she bustled over. “Miss Symmons, I advise you not to come nearer. Go and fetch some flowers for your friend, if you like!” Anne grinningly trotted away to Hagrid’s hut. Playing with Fang would help her repress her nervousness a little.

Meanwhile Patience and Hengist sat in their favourite armchairs close to the closed window and gazed into a crystal orb. The smell of the herbs in Trelawney’s fire made them both dizzy. “Do you see something?”, Hengist whispered finally, after his eyes had started to water because he had stared so hard into the crystal. Patience didn’t answer. Hengist looked at her more closely. “Patience?”, he asked carefully. He nudged her gently. “Patience, wake up, Trelawney will see you sleeping”, he said. Patience opened her eyes. “I haven’t been sleeping”, she said indignantly. “Of course not”, Hengist chortled but said nothing else for their teacher came over. “Did you see something, my dears?”, she asked in her misty voice. She bent over Hengist’s orb. “Well, my dear, you should look more concentrated into the orb”, she advised him. Patience thought briefly of making something up when, to her utter surprise, something appeared in her orb.

“Professor Trelawney, there is something!”, she gasped, leaning closer to her crystal. The whole class fell silent. “Tell me what it is, and have no fear”, said Trelawney, resting her hand supportively on Patience’s shoulder. “There is a man”, Patience began. It was like one of the muggle films she and Oliver had once watched in something called a cinema. “He is flying on a broomstick, and he wears a strange turban.” “Do you see where he is going to?” “It is a foreign land, and it looks wild. I don’t know, maybe southern Europe?”, Patience suggested. “Fine. What else?” “He meets something in a wood. Yes, it is – OH NO!!!”, Patience screamed, clapping her hands in front of her mouth. “What?”, asked Trelawney anxiously, but the orb had gone all misty again. “Will you tell us what you have seen?”, the professor gently asked. Patience shook her head violently. The lesser people knew the better, she felt. Hengist leaned over. “You owe me and Anne a galleon each”, he said grinning. Patience nodded, still shaking a bit. “And I need to tell you something”, she said. Hengist looked puzzled.

After the lesson they went to bring their bags to Gryffindor and fetch Catherine. But there was no Catherine. “I hope Anne brings her”, Patience said nervously and gave Hengist a galleon. He grinned and threw it into the air. “Thanks, Miss Prophetess!” “I hope I’m not”, Patience said seriously. They walked to Moaning Myrtles bathroom. Yes, Anne and Catherine were there. Patience opened the door without knocking. Anne screamed. “Oh my god, Anne, it’s us!”, Patience said giggling. “That wasn’t funny, you could’ve been Snape!” “In a girl’s bathroom?”, Hengist asked sarcastically. Anne gave him a meaningful look. “Oh, that’s okay for me”, Hengist said calmly. Anne and Patience exchanged a glance. Hengist kept giving them meaningful remarks since last year, but neither of the girls had dared to confront him directly.

Patience shrugged and fetched her cauldron. The potion looked ready and alright. “Catherine, please drink a glass of that. Then I’ll give you back your voice.” They all watched Catherine anxiously. She shuddered when she had finished her potion. Patience smiled apologetically. “I couldn’t add something to make it taste better, for I didn’t know how sugar for example would react.” Catherine nodded briefly and pointed to her throat. “Oh, yes, of course.” Patience pointed her wand at Catherine’s throat and said “Sonorus!”, which made Hengist and Anne jump. “Are you mad?”, Anne asked carefully. “I simply forgot the usual spell, but if I say the Quietus one again she’ll have her normal voice back”, Patience explained. It worked. Catherine coughed first. “Am I healed now?”, she asked. “You don’t feel the urge to talk in rhymes?”, Anne asked back. “No, I don’t.” “Yes!”, Hengist shouted gleefully. Patience embraced Anne.

They left the bathroom, looking first carefully around to make sure no one watched them. Catherine ran off soon to tell the others she was normal again. Patience held her friends back. “I saw a man with a turban in the crystal”, she said. Anne giggled. “And it was Ali Bashir, you know, the man who tries to sell flying carpets in Diagon Alley!” “No, Anne, this is serious. He went to somewhere in south Europe. And there he met something dark that entered his body.” That silenced every laugh. Patience put a galleon into Anne’s hand. “Here. I wish I hadn’t seen anything.”

Oliver’s First Match

One evening when Anne was especially angry with Snape she took a little doll out of her trunk. It was all dressed in black, had long dark hair, dark eyes and a long nose. Anne stared at it for a while. Patience watched her friend. “That doll looks exactly like Snape. If I didn't know you better I’d say you’re in love with him.” “Rubbish.” Anne replied. “You’re holding a doll that looks exactly like him in your hands.” Patience reminded her friend. “And you’re staring at it.” Patience added. “I’m concentrating.” Anne informed her friend. “That’s Voodoo magic. You take a straw doll, make it look like the person you hate, then you take a needle and pierce it. The person you hate will feel the pain.” Anne explained. “You don’t believe this nonsense?” Patience burst into laughter. “Not really, but it might work after all. Just to think that it might hurt him one day is a very satisfying thought.” And with these last words she stabbed a needle in Snape’s right arm.

Catherine was happy to have her voice back, for the weekend was near and with it the next Quidditch match. Patience was extremely nervous. Her little brother would be keeper for the first time. The real keeper, team captain Hugh Nolan, had a violent flue. Patience had visited him. “This is the last year I’m at Hogwarts, and what happens? I’ve got the flue!” “It’s only the first match of four”, Patience reminded him soothingly. “Rubbish! Four would be only if we win the other matches!” He coughed violently. Patience patted his arm awkwardly. “I’ll see to it Oliver doesn’t make a mess”, she promised. The team captain could only nod.

So Patience made a timetable for Oliver. They had only two days left – and one of them was still filled with lessons. Anne had seen the schedule and sighed. “You really want to get up that early?” “Yes”, Patience only said. At least the Quidditch practice made her forget the terrible sight of the man with the turban in the orb. But what was worst: She didn’t have a clue if it had already happened or if it would happen in the future. So she was relieved to have the training for Oliver to keep her thoughts away from crystal gazing. Oliver soon learned that what his sister had planned was no fun at all. She kept flying at murderous speed towards him and threw the quaffel with all her power. Oliver sometimes thought she had used some spell to make the quaffel faster. But it worked.

By Saturday Oliver felt he could be able to get every quaffel thrown at the Gryffindor goalposts. Patience as usual climbed the teacher’s stands and took her seat next to McGonagall. She sonored her voice. “This is Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff”, she announced. “Due to the illness of Gryffindor captain Nolan the keeper is Oliver Wood!” The crowd cheered and Anne’s voice was heard calling something like “You’ll make it, Verres!” The teams flew around the pitch. Madam Hooch gave the signal and set the balls free. “Hufflepuff chaser Gregory has the quaffel, but he misses the goalpost by far. This is now Gryffindor in possession – but what is that? Gryffindor keeper Wood seems to fall off his broom!” Patience jumped up and leant over the edge of the stand.

Her brother was slowly falling down to the ground and a beater was crying: “Sorry, Oliver, didn’t see it!” Madam Hooch’s whistle declared the match ended. No points, for no team – that was best. Patience de-sonored her voice quickly and ran down. “Couldn’t you do your job properly?”, she snapped at the miserable beater. Oliver had a black eye and blood trickled out from under his brown hair. “Oh, poor Verres”, Patience said lowly, caressing her brother’s head carefully. He was unconscious. She followed him to the Hospital Wing. Hugh Nolan stared in disbelief. “What does he do here?”, he croaked.

Patience explained that a bludger had hit Oliver shortly after the match had begun. Nolan groaned in agony. “Since Charlie Weasley left we haven’t won the Cup, and only some matches!” “You sound terrible, Hugh, why don’t you keep silent?”, Anne, who had come shortly after Patience, advised him. The team captain scowled but said nothing. “Is Verres okay?”, she asked her friend. “I think so. Madam Pomfrey says he’ll wake up soon and except of a little headache there’ll be nothing left.” What a way to make a first match!

Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour… Mice

Christmas was soon to come Patience and Anne hummed their favourite Christmas tunes. Anne was out of tune most of the time. “By the way, I’ll stay over Christmas.” Patience said casually. “Great, I hoped you’d say that. Then we can start our planning.” Anne said happily. “I have a vision of snowfall in the Great Hall on December 25th.” Patience said mystically. “If that’s what you saw in your glass ball than you might have mixed it up with a snowy globe. I’d love to have another Snapeshot though.” Anne said giggling. “You told him that that had been an accident and you hadn’t intended to hit him.” Patience said reproachfully. “It was an accident. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t enjoy hitting him.” Anne revealed. “What would you do if you couldn’t hate Snape?” Patience sighed. “I’d celebrate every single day.” Anne confessed jokingly. Patience hit her with a cushion.

“We should prepare some special crackers as well.” Anne said. “We should make a list with ideas and the things we’ll need to let them become realty.” Patience suggested. ‘Fireworks’ Anne scribbled on a piece of parchment. “You’re an old pyromaniac.” Patience sighed reading what Anne had just noted down. “We’ll put them in our crackers.” Anne informed her. “Do you want to blow of the Great Hall?” Patience exclaimed. “Have you ever heard of the reducio spell?” Anne asked ironically. “We need a spell to make the Christmas canaries alive. Or we simply transfigure them.” Anne listed. “And we should bewitch the ceiling as well.” Anne scribbled something down. “Forget the ceiling. We’ll do the thing with the fireworks and the birds and of course the snow.” Patience decided.

“You only want food for that cat of yours. Where is she by the way?” Anne asked looking around the room. “Haven’t seen her since this morning.” Anne added. “Don’t know, maybe she’s outside. We should try to find her before we leave for Hogsmeade.” Patience thought aloud. Anne grabbed her gloves and her shawl. “We’re not on expedition to the North pole.” Patience reminded her. “I know that cat of yours. She’s most probably in the middle of nowhere. She always makes us walk for hours!” Anne complained and put on her jacket. Patience took her jacket. When Anne didn’t look she put her gloves in her pockets.

Together they went down and out of the castle. “Hey you old flea farm where are you.” Anne called. Patience pushed her. Anne lost her balance and fell in the snow. It was at least one meter high. Anne was covered completely. Patience burst into laughter. Anne freed herself. “Very funny, really.” Anne muttered as she shovelled the snow away. Anne formed a snowball intending to throw it at Patience. Suddenly somebody shouted “Expelliarmus” Anne was pushed deep in the snow again. It had been Snape. He approached the two girls. “Anne stop cursing it was Snape.” Patience hissed.

Snape tramped through the snow. Anne had worked her way up when he arrived. “I told you to stop this foolish behaviour last year, didn’t I?” Snape barked. “We were only looking for Bethesda.” Patience explained. Snape turned to Anne. “You think she’s down there.” He snarled. He turned back to Patience. Anne took a handful of snow and formed a ball. “We wanted to find her before we leave for Hogsmeade.” Patience had stressed the word Hogsmeade. Anne got the hint and let the snowball fall down. “You’re not going to Hogsmeade today.” Snape snarled. “What?” Anne exclaimed. “We didn’t do anything.” Patience intervened. “It’s no detention, nobody is going to Hogsmeade today because of the snow.” Snape informed them and headed for the castle. Anne picked up the snowball. Patience grabbed it before she could throw it at Snape. “Snape, the man who’s coming from the frog.” Anne said angrily. Patience shook her head.

Together they tramped through the thick snow, calling for Bethesda again and again. After two hours they gave up. Tired they went back to the castle. “Biffido” turned them from snowwomen back to human beings. Together they went back to the common room. Anne went to the dormitory. She took the Voodoo-Snape-doll and stared angrily at him. Patience had joined her. “Ran out of needles?” She asked jokingly. Anne shook her head. She stood up and went to one of the windows. She opened it. She stuck him deep in the snow – head foremost. “It’s a shame that it doesn’t work.” Anne sighed as she carried Voodoo-Snape back to her trunk. Nobody but Patience had seen him yet because Anne kept him in a secret drawer. “Aren’t you sometimes afraid that it really happens what you do to him?” Patience asked curiously. “Afraid? Afraid is the wrong word you mean hope. Yes I hope that it will someday happen to him. Well, I’ll notice as soon as he won’t come to his potions’ lessons any longer.” Anne replied. “Why?” Patience asked in a surprised voice. “I lock him.” Anne explained pointing at her trunk. Patience shook her head.

Ghewyn opened the door. “A MOUSE, A BIG MOUSE!” She shouted in a scared voice. Patience and Anne stood up and approached the door. Anne turned to Ghewyn who was still shaking. “Big mice are called rats.” She told her. Patience grabbed Anne’s arm. “That isn’t what I’d exactly call a rat.” Patience said staring at the enormous creature. “Wow!” Anne exclaimed. “Reducio!” Patience said waving her wand. “Ghewyn you should have thought of that!” Anne scolded her. “Get that mouse out of here.” Ghewyn stood petrified and stared at the mouse – now normal size. Patience pointed her wand at the mouse. “Mobilicorpus” Before the mouse could escape it floated in mid air. Anne grabbed a box of Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans – yes some students were brave enough to eat those again. She emptied it on one of the tables. “Mouse-size” Anne showed it to Patience.

Patience nodded. “Okay, let go of her, I got her safe in here.” Anne said when she had caught the mouse and closed the cover of the box. “We’ll better take it to Dumbledore. It might be something dark after all.” Patience suggested. “You want to carry it, Ghewyn?” Anne asked looking at Ghewyn. Ghewyn hid behind the door of the dormitory. “I guess that means no.” Patience said grinningly. Anne carried the little box carefully. “We should have thought of this one before. Putting a mouse in a box of Bertie Botts’ Every Flavour Beans – what a trick.” Anne thought aloud. “You’re mean Anne. What would you say if somebody told you you had just eaten Every Flavour Beans?” Patience reminded her. “That’s not funny. Professor Binns died eating them. I’ll never touch one of those again.” Anne said disgustedly. Patience and Anne stopped in front on the goblin statue. “What has been the password last time?” Patience asked. “I remember Vanilla Pudding.” Nothing happened. “Every Flavour Beans” Anne said. The goblin made way.

“How did you know that that was his password?” “That has been obvious.” Anne replied. “Obvious? I’d have never tried that.” Patience muttered as they climbed the stairs. “That’s what made it obvious. A password should be something you wouldn’t guess first but last.” Finally they had reached the door. Patience knocked. “Come in.” Dumbledore’s warm voice invited them from inside. Patience opened the door. She let Anne enter first. When she was inside herself she closed the door. Dumbledore wasn’t alone Snape was with him. “Who let you two in?” Snape barked. “I’d say they knew the password.” Dumbledore intervened. “We were lucky on that one.” Anne said apologetically raising the box of Every Flavour Beans. “We stopped collecting those weeks ago. Why did you bother the headmaster with that?” Snape spat. Patience wanted to explain but Anne hit her softly with her foot. “We wondered if you would try one professor Dumbledore.” Anne said innocently and passed him the box. Anne grinned.

Dumbledore opened the box carefully and looked inside. His eyes sparkled. He looked at Patience and Anne. Then he turned to Snape. “After you Severus.” He put the box in front of Snape. Snape took the box and put his hand in it. He took out the mouse holding it on its tail. Dumbledore grinned and so did Patience and Anne. Snape turned to them. They stopped grinning immediately. “If you think that that was funny...” “No.” Anne said and took back the mouse and put it in the box. She closed it carefully. “The mouse was in our common room.” “Brave Gryffindors are afraid of mice in their common room.” Snape said arrogantly. “We had to do the reducio spell before she fit in the box. She was as big as your desk.” Patience told Dumbledore. “We weren’t sure if it was a student’s prank or the deed of a dark wizard.” Anne explained. Dumbledore nodded. “You better leave it here. We’ll take a look at it. Thanks for visiting me. You should do that more often, perhaps you’ll have another lucky guess on the password one day.” Dumbledore smiled at the two girls. Patience and Anne left.

“Why didn’t you tell them that the password had been obvious?” Patience asked as they went down the stairs. “It wouldn’t have been too nice.” Anne admitted. “But giving them a box with a mouse was?” Patience asked ironically. “At least it was kind of funny.” Anne said. “You really think a dark wizard put the mouse in our common room?” Anne asked a little scared. Patience shrugged. “I don’t know.” “If it was another dark wizard – I mean another than Preston – that would mean that Hogwarts isn’t safe.” Anne thought aloud. “Remember the young man and his house-elf in our third year and last year was kind of weird as well. And why don’t we remember our second year?” Patience added. “Sounds like a case for the restricted section. Desk-size mice.” Anne whispered as they let the goblin statue close. “You don’t think they’ll tell us if it was a dark wizard who placed the moue in our common room?” Patience asked. Anne nodded. “They didn’t tell the others about Preston. I think the Ministry would close Hogwarts if they knew what happened around here.” “We better make sure that they don’t find out.” Patience added. “Of course it would be very stupid to act like a dark wizard just after Preston had been send away.” Anne sighed.

Christmas Preparations

There were no more visits to Hogsmeade before the Christmas break and Christmas itself. “We’ll have to do without the fireworks, I’m afraid.” Patience said when she and Anne were preparing some little pranks. “A good housewife has always some hot water in the fridge.” Anne said wisely as she put some fireworks on the desk. They were already reduced. “Are you mad? You keep fireworks in our dormitory what if they go of?” Patience scolded her. “That’s why I reduce them.” Anne explained. Anne put some gift wrapping-paper on the table. “What are we putting in our crackers?” Patience asked. “Spells?” Anne asked. “Depends on the spells.” Patience replied. “I thought of the Rictusempra and other Cheering Charms.” Anne suggested. “All right.” Patience agreed.

Anne took a piece of gift wrapping-paper and put the firework carefully inside of it. Before she closed it she put the Rictusempra spell in it. She looked at her work. “We should try one.” Anne said carefully. Patience nodded. She took one end of the cracker and pulled it. It exploded artificially. Little sparks of different coloured light filled the room. Patience and Anne laughed heartily. “I love those crackers!” Patience said laughingly. Anne nodded vigorously. After two minutes they were back to normal again.

Anne and Patience took some pieces of gift wrapping-paper, put a firework and a spell in it. They closed them carefully. “How will we get them in the Great Hall without making everybody suspicious?” Anne asked suddenly. “We should get up especially early on Christmas morning.” Patience grinned. “Bet the son of a bat will give us a detention when he catches us!” Anne sighed. “On Christmas Day, he can’t be that mean.” Patience exclaimed. “I don’t want to find out. We’ll better make sure that he doesn’t catch us.” Anne retorted. “What about the snow from the ceiling?” Anne asked casually. “Oh, I put the spell in one of the crackers.” Patience confessed. “No foolish wand-waving.” Anne agreed. Patience nodded smilingly. “It’s a shame we can’t do the thing with the birds. I didn’t know that you needed a canary feather to do that.” Anne sighed. “We’ll have a lot of fun anyway.” Patience pointed at the crackers.

Anne grinned. “Who’ll be around for Christmas anyway? Hengist won’t be there.” Patience sighed. “There are rumours that some of the Slytherins stay. As far as I know Roland Banks is one of them. Ravenclaw will leave completely and of Hufflepuff only John King will be left.” Anne reported. “How comes you know all these things?” Patience asked. “I sent my little spies all around the castle. No, to be honest. John King told me that he would stay. He invited me to do some Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade. Unfortunately all the visits had been cancelled before we could do that.” Anne said with a false voice of disappointment. “Hm, John King wants to do his Christmas shopping with you. That could be the start of a happy marriage.” Patience joked. Anne grinned triumphantly. “You wouldn’t say that if I had told you that he wanted me to help him choosing a present for you.” Anne informed her. “What?” Patience exclaimed.

“I guess it is time for another pumpkin juice bath for our special friend.” Anne threw in. “If he’d only get those hints.” Patience sighed. “I talked to some Ravenclaws they told me that they’ll all leave. And the Slytherins talked about it in the library.” “You eavesdropped on them? Shame on you, Anne.” Patience told her of. “I wouldn’t call that eavesdropping. You know that they are very noisy. I couldn’t help hearing them.” Anne defended herself. “The teachers will be the same as every year. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape. And of course Filch and Hagrid will be around but I don’t think they’ll join us.” Anne listed. “Well, I’ll see if you’re right next week when the students will leave for Christmas.” Patience replied provokingly. Anne shrugged.

Anne had been right. All the Ravenclaws left. John King was the only one of Hufflepuff who stayed behind. Roland Banks and four other Slytherins were left as well. Of Gryffindor only Patience and Anne stayed. When the other students had left Patience and Anne decided to stroll around outside of the castle. The snow still was one meter high. The old snow had been flattened by the footsteps of many students but the fresh snow was nearly untouched. Patience and Anne had reached the other side of the castle when Patience was hit by a lot of snow. The laughter of Roland could be heard.

“I’ll kill him!” Patience said furiously. Anne formed a nicely shaped snowball and passed it Patience. She took out her wand and bewitched it so that it wouldn’t miss Roland’s face. She didn’t have to throw it because it found its way all alone. “WHAT WAS THAT?” They heard an angry voice and it wasn’t Roland’s. Patience grabbed Anne and dragged her as close to the castle as possible. “MISS SYMMONS, MISS WOOD IN MY OFFICE.” Snape shouted. Patience and Anne worked their way back inside the castle. In front of the door they cleared the mess they had produced or rather had been produced on them. Dumbledore watched them. “Have you been out for a little snow battle?” He asked smilingly. “Roland got me.” Patience explained. “Yeah and then we got Roland.” “And then I got you.” Snape added. He looked at Patience who was still covered with a thick layer of snow. Dumbledore grinned. “I took part in many snow battles when I was your age.” He revealed. “Professor Snape, don’t you sometimes wish you could go out there and join the students in one of those fantastic snow fights?” Dumbledore asked in his warm voice. Snape looked disgusted and surprised at the same time. “Of course not.” Snape snarled.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at Patience. “Biffido” The snow had gone. Snape crossed his arms in front of his chest. He was thinking. Dumbledore turned to Snape. “Severus, a word with you.” They left. “Does that mean no detention?” Anne asked carefully. “I think so.” Patience replied. “But we better go down to Snape’s office, just to make sure.” She added. Anne nodded. “As if it hadn’t been cold enough out there, now we have to go to the dungeons.” Anne sighed.

They waited for over an hour. There were steps. Somebody hurried down to the dungeons. “And what are you two doing around here?” Snape spat at them. “You told us to go to your office.” Patience reminded him. “Right. The snow fight.” Snape said in a self-satisfied voice. Again he crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You can help me in my office.” Snape ordered and opened the door. Anne grabbed Patience’s arm. “He said ‘can’ does that mean we don’t have to?” She asked in a whisper. “We don’t have all day.” Snape’s voice called from inside. “Guess that means we’ll have to.” Anne sighed. “As you both know about refilling the potions and potions ingredients you don’t need any further introductions.” Snape sat behind his desk and started to read a book.

Anne got the empty bottles from the first shelf. “Accio” Patience opened the cupboard with the refilling bottles. “Canary feathers” Patience exclaimed. Snape looked up. Anne choked and started coughing. “Miss Symmons are you allergic against canary feathers?” Snape spat at her. Anne shook her head still coughing. “We never did anything with canary feathers.” Patience said in a questioning voice. “That will have its reasons, don’t you think so?” Snape replied. Anne had stopped coughing. “Gillyweed is what I need, Patience.” She said to her friend. They spent the whole day refilling. They were only allowed to leave for lunch. The two sat at the Gryffindor table. “If we had known that he has canary feathers...” Patience started. “What then? I don’t go breaking into offices.” Anne told her.

“And what about Dumbledore’s office?” “I didn’t break in that. I knew the password for the goblin that’s not breaking in. We were there to visit him anyway!” Anne reminded her friend. “And he had found out that we had taken the feather. You know that he learns the amounts of every potion and potion’s ingredient by heart. Even if we had taken only one he would have noticed.” “You’re right.” Patience admitted. “It would have been fun though. Talking about breaking into offices could you guess the password of the other teachers as well?” Patience asked casually. “No.” Anne replied. “It was easy with Dumbledore because he is always staking some kind of sweets. Why do you ask?” “I was thinking about Preston. His private rooms to be precise. If there is another dark wizard around there might be some clues that lead us to him.” Patience explained.

“Preston’s last password? Don’t you think the other teachers knew it and changed it? Preston wasn’t the brightest, we’re clearly looking for a Hufflepuff password.” Anne thought aloud. “But didn’t you explain to me that a password is the last thing you’d expect?” Patience asked. “Sure, when your brain is working correctly. Have you never heard one of the Hufflepuff passwords? Yellow Black was one for example.” Anne informed her friend. “Perhaps we should try it with Defence Against the Dark Arts?” Patience suggested. Anne shook her head. “No, that’s something you might just mention in passing the door.” Anne explained. “Well what would you try then?” Anne hit her nose with her two fingers and stared out of the window. She sat like this for half an hour. Endless combinations of words passed her mind but nothing seemed to fit.

Patience went on eating. “Anne! Anne! Didn’t you listen? Snape told us to go on with the refilling.” Patience brought Anne back from her thoughts. Suddenly an idea crossed her mind. ‘Forget-me-not’. Anne was sure that Preston had started with ‘forget-me-not’. ‘It is possible that he stuck to the flowers. He would have chosen a flower that grew around Hogwarts.’ Anne thought to herself. Since Anne wasn’t exactly what you would call a gardener she had know idea what had grown when Preston had to leave. They had entered Snape’s office. “What do you need next?” Patience asked. Anne looked at one of the empty bottles. “Roaring Rose” Anne read the label.

Patience nearly climbed in the cupboard to get out the big vessel that was labelled ‘roaring rose’. Unfortunately it was empty. “Oh professor, I think you ran out of ‘roaring roses’.” Patience looked at Snape. “Right I missed to collect them. There is only one night when you can find those. Professor Preston kept me busy that night, actually you too. Just put the empty vessel on the desk. I’ll go to Hogsmeade and buy some new.” Snape said. “We could go and buy them for you.” Patience suggested. Snape scanned her. “You couldn’t distinguish between a roaring rose and a daisy.” He said arrogantly. Patience wanted to repeat something but Anne punched her before she could start.

At the end of the day all potions and potions’ ingredients had been refilled. Patience and Anne went directly to the Great Hall although it was a little early to have dinner. “You know I though about some other Hufflepuff passwords.” Patience cleared her throat. “’Damn, I forgot the stupid password again’, ‘what was the password again’, ‘hope somebody shows up who knows the password’, ‘does anyone remember the password’ and my favourite one ‘please, let me in’.” Patience listed as serious as possible. “I think I heard those in front of the Hufflepuff entrance before.” Anne declared laughingly. The two sat down at the Gryffindor table.

A Hufflepuff Visit

“Patience, wake up.” Anne shook her friend. “What is it?” Patience asked sleepily. “Get dressed. We’ll go to Preston’s room.” Anne explained. Patience sat up in her bed now fully awake. “What?” She asked. “We won’t get in. We don’t have the password.” Patience reminded her friend. “I think we have it. ‘Roaring Rose’.” Anne whispered. Patience shook her head. “Never.” She replied. “Well, we’ll find out. Get moving!”

Anne went down to the common room. She packed some pencils and a couple of pieces of parchment in a little bag. Patience stepped down still a little sleepy. Silently they sneaked out of the common room. “Lumos” Patience wand just gave them enough light to see without being seen. They had to stop a couple of times to make sure that they were still alone. They were especially careful not to run into Peeves. They waited in front of Preston’s room. “Roaring Rose” Anne whispered. The door opened quietly. “Only one of us should go inside. One should make sure that the door isn’t closed or locked.” Patience suggested. Anne nodded. “I’ll go inside.” Anne said.

She held her wand in front of herself. “Lumos” She whispered as she entered the room. A thin layer of dust was on everything in the room. Anne looked around carefully not to touch anything. A book lay on Preston’s desk. It was opened. The only thing that was visible on the two pages was this: ‘Though it keeps on going it is never leaving but it is not always present. It might be nothing but it might be all it might be big and it might be small. The next thing does imply that you take something though the action is the contrary. The last thing is related to the first it describes the amount that you have been. If you resolve this little riddle you’ll find the secrets that I had.’ Anne scribbled it on a piece of parchment. There seemed to be nothing else in Preston’s room that she could examine without touching it.

“Anne!” She heard Patience’s call. She hurried to the door. Patience dragged her out and closed the door. She had already turned off her light. Anne did the same when she heard footsteps. The two hid in a dark corner. Filch patrolled the corridor Mrs. Norris by his side. Mrs. Norris went straight to Patience and Anne. The two girls stopped breathing. Another cat turned up. “Bethesda” Patience mouthed. Bethesda attacked Mrs. Norris. Filch tried to separate the two. Bethesda made the two leave the corridor.

“We better get back to the dormitory.” Anne whispered. “No! Bethesda is in trouble.” Patience disagreed. “We’ll be in trouble if he takes your cat to our common room and we’re not around.” Anne spat and dragged Patience back to the common room. They undressed quickly and lay in there beds pretending to be fast asleep. The door was opened. Somebody entered the common room and stepped up to their dormitory. “You’ll stay in here, Bethesda. And no more fights with Mrs. Norris.” McGonagall told the cat in a friendly voice. Silently she left first the dormitory and then the common room.

Patience examined Bethesda. “She’s not hurt.” She said relieved. “Did you find anything?” Patience had turned at Anne. Anne took the piece of parchment out of the bag. “A book lay open on his desk. That was the only thing on the two pages.” Anne explained passing the Patience the piece of parchment. ‘Though it keeps on going it is never leaving but it is not always present. It might be nothing but it might be all it might be big and it might be small. The next thing does imply that you take something though the action is the contrary. The last thing is related to the first it describes the amount that you have been. If you resolve this little riddle you’ll find the secrets that I had.’ Patience read silently. “That’s a riddle.” She stated. Anne gave her a surprised look. “Really?” She asked mockingly.

Patience threw a cushion at her friend. “And you know what it means?” Patience asked. Anne shook her head. “No idea.” Anne yawned. Let’s think about that tomorrow. She closed her eyes and fell asleep immediately. Patience read the riddle several times but she didn’t know what it meant.

The next day was very calm. Patience and Anne dedicated most of it to the resolving of the riddle. “Do you think Preston knew the solution?” Anne asked. Patience nodded. “It would be a shame if a former Hufflepuff student would be more intelligent than two Gryffindor students.” Anne sighed. “I wish time would pass so fast in one of those endless Potions’ lessons.” Patience remarked. “That’s it. Time: ‘Though it keeps on going it is never leaving but it is not always present.’ That describes ‘time’.” Anne exclaimed. “Oh my god, you’re right. And what about: ‘The last thing is related to the first it describes the amount that you have been.’?” Patience asked. “That must be age then.” Anne thought aloud.

“That leaves us with: ‘It might be nothing but it might be all it might be big and it might be small. The next thing does imply that you take something though the action is the contrary.’ I have no clue what that could be.” Patience sighed. “Patience you could do with a little patience. We just solved half of the riddle. That’s great. We’ll think about the rest tomorrow. I’m tired.” Anne said and went off to the dormitory. Patience stayed behind.

When Anne got up next morning Patience was still sitting in the common room. “Have you been awake all night long?” Anne asked. “Hmm.” Patience replied. “Want some breakfast or are you quitting that like sleeping?” Anne asked jokingly. “I’m starving.” Patience said. Patience stood up and wiped the sleep out of her eyes. “You haven’t even asked if I found anything.” Patience voice sounded reproachfully. “You would have woken me up if you had found anything.” Anne replied reluctantly.

Solutions

Until Christmas the two girls couldn’t resolve the rest of the riddle. They thought about it every day though. On Christmas morning the two girls got up especially early. “Where did you put the crackers?” Anne asked impatiently. “I didn’t touch them. You said you’d keep them! Most probably they are in your secret drawer where you store all your other things.” Patience stopped suddenly. She looked at Anne. “Store.” They said with one voice. They grabbed the piece of parchment and read. “‘The next thing does imply that you take something though the action is the contrary.’ That’s a store or to store.” Patience said. Anne nodded. “That means we have time, store and age. Either it means to store age or storage. I guess we’ll only find out when we saw it.” Anne thought aloud. “It’s getting late. We better hurry downstairs and place our crackers.” Patience suggested. Anne didn’t move. “What is it?” “I just hoped you’d solve the rest of the riddle.” Anne sighed.

“Where are those damn crackers anyway?” Anne repeated. She went to the dormitory. “They’re not in my trunk. Wait I’ve found them.” Anne hurried back carrying a basket filled with crackers. “Underneath my bed.” She explained. Patience and Anne went downstairs to the Great Hall. Only one of the tables was decorated. Patience and Anne put the crackers on a line in the middle of the table so that everybody would have access to one. They heard steps outside. Anne reduced the basket and put it in her pocket.

“Merry Christmas. You are a little early Miss Symmons, Miss Wood.” McGonagall greeted them. Anne shrugged apologetically. “You’re early yourself, professor.” Patience remarked. McGonagall smiled at them. “Since we are all here we can sit down.” McGonagall suggested. They sat down. “A couple of nights ago your cat had another fight with Mrs. Norris, Miss Wood. You should keep her inside during the nights – at least some nights.” McGonagall advised her. Patience nodded.

Only a couple of minutes later the rest of the students and teachers showed up. “Merry Christmas!” Dumbledore wished them. “Oh, Christmas crackers.” Dumbledore exclaimed delightedly. Snape rolled his eyes. Dumbledore took one and offered it to Roland. He took the other end and pulled it. It was one of the Rictusempra crackers. Dumbledore and Roland started laughing directly after the little red and green sparks had vanished. Patience and Anne pulled a cracker as well. They got one with a Cheering Charm. Snape had to pull another cracker with Dumbledore. This time the sparks of orange light mixed with little snowflakes. Professor Flitwick was all excited when he pulled a cracker with John King another Cheering Charm. Patience and Anne hoped that Snape would pull another cracker with a Cheering Charm but he refused to take another one.

During breakfast the Great Hall was filled with fluffy snowflakes. There was a lot of laughter that morning and it wasn’t all because of the Rictusempra and Cheering Charm crackers. Patience and Anne might have intended to initiate a snowball fight however it was a Slytherin who threw the first snowball. He tried to hit Anne but luckily or rather unfortunately she ducked and so it hit Flitwick. “Snow battle!” Dumbledore exclaimed all excited and formed a snowball himself. He threw it at John King. He was very surprised to get hit by a snowball. He looked very stupid not knowing what to do.

The Slytherins had started an attack on Patience and Anne. Now it was Flitwick who ducked. But he didn’t hide he used the opportunity to send bewitched snowballs all around the Great Hall. McGonagall helped Patience and Anne against the Slytherins who stopped their attack when Dumbledore joined the three as well. Anne whispered something in Patience’s ear. Patience nodded. Anne went to the other side of the Hall. She looked now directly in Snape’s face. She took a handful of snow and formed a ball grinning evilly at Snape. Snape gave her a series of warning looks. Anne drew back her arm. In the same moment a snowball hit Snape. He turned around and got hit by another one.

He saw Patience and Dumbledore shaking with laughter. Anne waited for the moment that Snape turned back to her and hit him with her snowball. Laughingly she went back to Patience. John King had joined their side. The Slytherins had covered him with snow. Patience and Anne did a little target practice on Roland. It seemed that Roland was professor Flitwick’s favourite target as well. Patience formed another snowball she put a Cheering Charm on it. She aimed at Snape and failed. “Damn!” She whispered. She put another Cheering Charm on a snowball. That hit unfortunately and accidentally John King who tried to escape the snow battle. He left cheerfully.

Snape gave Patience a very angry look. He knew that that snowball was meant for him as well. Patience shrugged apologetically. Snape pointed at Anne. Patience turned around and got hit by a snowball Anne had sent. Snape thought his presence no longer necessary and left. The snow battle didn’t last too long. Everybody was exhausted and the snow stopped falling. “That was fun. We should do that more often.” Dumbledore decided. “Now this place needs a good cleaning and so do we. Miss Symmons will you do us the honours?” Dumbledore asked in his kind voice. Anne waved her wand whispering “Biffido”. The Great Hall looked clean as ever. Anne bowed when she heard professor Flitwick’s clapping.

Patience and Anne went back to the common room. Patience grabbed the piece of parchment. “‘It might be nothing but it might be all it might be big and it might be small.’ I don’t think that makes any sense at all.” Patience whispered to herself. “Can’t we get anything with time, store and age?” She asked impatiently. “If you don’t come up with anything...” Anne replied. “I think we need a word with to different meanings. One meaning ‘nothing’ and one meaning ‘all’. But it might as well be ‘no thing’.” Anne thought aloud. “What words describe ‘nothing’?” Patience asked. “Naught, nil, none, nullity...” Anne started. “Stop it. What about all?” “Everything, can’t be everything because it is ‘no thing’. Let’s call the whole thing off.” Anne sighed. Anne fell of the armchair she was sitting on. “A (w)hole is both nothing and everything.” She exclaimed still lying on the floor.

“That’s great we got it: Time, (w)hole, store and age! Wait a minute. That doesn’t really make sense.” Patience said disappointedly. “I wouldn’t say so. A hole is perfect for storage of something. ‘Time’ doesn’t fit in this row of words. It’s an abstract noun.” Anne explained. “You think we were wrong with ‘time’?” Patience asked carefully. “No, I think we should make it more concrete, something you and me can touch...” “Clock!” Patience interrupted her friend. Anne nodded. “But there are no clocks around Hogwarts and outside of Hogwarts are too many.” Patience sighed. “Are you sure that there are no clocks around here?” Anne asked. Patience nodded. “Let’s take a walk and think about it.” Anne suggested. Patience stood up. Anne was still lying on the floor. “Need a hand?” Patience asked. Anne shook her head and got up.

Preston’s Secret

They left the common room. “I have never been in the trophy room except when I had to clean its contents.” Anne remarked. “Well why don’t we go there then.” Patience suggested. Anne opened the door. Patience looked at the beautiful Quidditch trophies. “You know, I guess you never noticed anything else in this room apart from those trophies.” Anne said provokingly. Patience turned to her. She was a little angry. Anne gave her a smile. “Welcome to my guided tour through the Hogwarts’ trophy room. Please make sure to not only to notice those useless and dust gathering trophies which have to be cleaned by unlucky students every now and then but also this beautiful statue of an unknown beau whose holding in his hands a...” “Sand-glass! That’s some kind of clock!” Patience exclaimed merrily. She punched Anne. “You knew it was here.” She said reproachfully.

“If you hadn’t only eyes for those statues you would have noticed as well.” Anne remarked. “You think we need a password to move it?” Patience wanted to know. Anne nodded. “That’s your job again. You’re the best password guesser I know.” Patience sat on the floor. Anne stood in front of the statue. She cleared her throat. She opened her mouth but closed it again. She turned to Patience. We better be prepare for the worst. Anne took out her wand and so did Patience. Anne took a deep breath. “Time, (w)hole, store, age.” She said in a calm voice. Patience jumped up as the statue began to move. Anne moved backwards. Behind the statue was a little hole. Just big enough to put something very small in it.

Patience went pale. Suddenly she felt very weak. Anne stared at the hole. Patience leaned on Anne. “What is it?” Anne asked worried. The statue moved back to its original place. Patience didn’t answer. “I’ll take you up to the Hospital Wing.” Anne helped Patience to get out of the trophy room. Snape patrolled the corridor in front of it. “What did you do in there?” He barked at the two girls. “Gathering fungi most probably.” Anne spat at him or rather his stupid question. “We looked at the trophies when Patience suddenly went pale.” Anne explained. “Where are you taking her?” Snape asked in a worried voice. “Honestly, professor, can’t you guess where I’ll take her?” Anne was fed up with his stupid questions and Patience seemed to lose more and more strength.

Snape took out his wand. “Mobilicorpus” Patience began to float in midair. Anne lost her balance because she had leaned against Patience in order to make her stay straight. Snape looked at her. “Oh no, not you as well.” Snape sighed. “Could you warn me next time before you start foolish wand-waving?” Anne snarled. “Oh, you didn’t faint?” Snape said in a surprised voice. “Sorry to disappoint you. Hey where are you going, the Hospital Wing is in the other direction.” Anne protested. “Madam Pomfrey visits her family. We’ll go to my room.” Snape explained. Anne placed herself in Snape’s way. “Only over my dead body!” She declared. “Miss Symmons, don’t be foolish. Your friend needs help – now.” Snape barked. Anne made way for him. She followed him closely. Snape opened the door to his room. He let Patience float inside and landed her safely on the couch. Anne took the hand of her friend. Snape fetched a bottle with a dark liquid.

“What’s that?” Anne asked when he wanted to make Patience drink it. “It’ll help your friend, believe me.” Snape told her. Anne nodded and carefully he gave it to Patience. Patience soon started coughing. Anne still held her hand. “You feel better?” Anne whispered. Patience nodded still coughing. Patience face turned rosy but Anne thought this was due to her coughing and didn’t mean that she really felt better. Patience sat up. Anne sat behind her so that she could lean on her. Anne noticed that Patience’s forehead was very hot. Snape stood up. When he came back he carried a glass of water. He passed it to Patience. Patience was shaking. “What did you do in the trophy room?” Snape asked in a very serious voice.

“I told you.” Anne replied. “Looking at Quidditch trophies wouldn’t have made Miss Wood faint.” Snape barked. “I didn’t faint!” Patience protested but her voice sounded so weak that neither Snape nor Anne took her seriously. “You’ll stay here! I’ll go and fetch professors Dumbledore and McGonagall.” Snape went away. Anne couldn’t think of anything that had made Patience faint. She herself felt perfectly all right. Patience’s face was red.

When Snape appeared again he had brought professor Dumbledore. Professor McGonagall arrived only a couple of minutes later. Dumbledore examined the patient. “You gave her the potion?” Dumbledore asked looking at Snape. Snape nodded. “Very well. You’ll be all right, Miss Wood. Miss Symmons, a word with you.” Dumbledore rose. Anne followed him. “Professor Snape told me that you came out of the trophy room. What was in there that made your friend faint?” Dumbledore asked in a fatherly voice. Anne shrugged. “If you don’t tell us we’ll search the Gryffindor common room and your dormitory and will give you a truth potion.” Snape informed her in his cold and dark voice.

Dumbledore showed no sign of protest or at least disagreement. Anne tried to stay emotionless. Snape grabbed her arm and dragged her away. “Don’t be so rough, Severus.” Dumbledore told him. He hadn’t hurt Anne. He took her to the Gryffindor common room. “Password.” He barked. “Vague stuff” Anne whispered hoping that only the Fat Lady had heard it. They entered the common room. Anne stared anxiously at the dormitory. She hoped to make Snape go there first. He noticed the direction of her looks but he ignored it.

His eyes fell on the piece of parchment on the table. He took it and read it. ‘Though it keeps on going it is never leaving but it is not always present. It might be nothing but it might be all it might be big and it might be small. The next thing does imply that you take something though the action is the contrary. The last thing is related to the first it describes the amount that you have been. If you resolve this little riddle you’ll find the secrets that I had.’ He turned to Anne. “What does this mean?” Snape asked coldly. His voice sounded so coldly that Anne shivered.

Snape dragged her back to his own room. He handed Dumbledore the piece of parchment. “That’s what I found.” Snape explained. Dumbledore read it and then handed it to McGonagall who read it as well. “Well, Miss Symmons?” Dumbledore asked. Anne remained silent. “For heaven’s sake Anne, tell them. It almost scared me to death.” Patience winced from the couch. “This riddle leads you to the trophy room. Behind the statue is a little hole. You move the statue by saying ‘time, (w)hole, store, age’.” Anne reported. “Severus, you better take a look at it. And take Miss Symmons with you.” Dumbledore ordered. Snape nodded.

Anne followed him down to the trophy room. Snape approached the statue carefully. He looked at Anne. Anne had taken out her wand. “‘Time, (w)hole, store, age’” Snape said in a steady voice. The statue moved. A little hole could be seen behind the statue. Snape went towards it. He stopped when he realized that Anne kept following him. He turned to her. “You’ll wait over there.” He ordered. Anne didn’t move. Snape stared at her. He turned back to the hole. He looked inside. There were several bottles of potions and some recipes. He took them out of the hole. He was very careful. The statue moved back.

Anne opened the door for Snape. He went down to the dungeons and straight to his office closely followed bay Anne. He put the things on his desk. Anne looked at the recipes. “Miss Symmons this is not for the eyes of a student.” Snape said in a caring kind of voice. “Preston did that to Zap and he killed professor Binns and somehow he managed to scare Patience don’t think that I’ll leave now.” Anne informed him. “So this belongs to Professor Preston then?” Snape asked.

Anne pointed at the word Wolpertinger on one of the recipes. Snape nodded. “Where did you find the riddle?” “In Preston’s private rooms.” Anne replied. “How did you get in there? The teachers tried to open it ever since Preston was sent to Azkaban.” Anne shivered when she heard the word Azkaban. She didn’t know if there was anything in this world that could scare her so much like Azkaban and the Dementors. Of course she had only heard about it but the stories were awful. Snape put his hand on Anne’s arm. “You feel all right?” He whispered. “The password is ‘roaring rose’.” Anne told him and left.

She went back to Snape’s private room. She knocked. Patience looked much better now. McGonagall and Dumbledore had asked her some questions. Anne sat next to Patience. “Minerva, you better take our two friends back to Gryffindor tower. I’ll ask Hagrid to send them Fang and guard the entrance.” McGonagall nodded. Patience and Anne went back to the Gryffindor tower. Patience was very tired although it was still a long time till evening. McGonagall stayed until Hagrid and Fang arrived. “’Ere, professor, I brought ye Fang. E’s gonna take care of our girls.” Hagrid assured her. Fang jumped on the couch were Anne was sitting. When everybody had left she buried her face in his warm fur and cried.

Greg Nott

The rest of the break was very quiet. Patience needed a lot of rest before she had recovered. Anne spent a lot of time thinking about Zap. Several times she started a letter to Charlie Weasley but she never finished or sent it. On the penultimate day of the break Dumbledore joined the two girls at the breakfast table. “Good morning Miss Symmons, Miss Wood. I wonder if I told you. The desk-size mouse had been a student’s prank. A student visited me and told me about the little prank. It seems that Miss Rhys is very afraid of mice – no matter what size.” Dumbledore smiled. “Miss Symmons if you feel the inner need to guess some more passwords please come to see me instead of...” Dumbledore left his sentence unfinished and left.

Patience looked at Anne. “I always wondered how you guessed Preston’s password and the password of the statue.” Patience told her. Anne shrugged. “Thinking about it you weren’t guessing them you simply knew them. You’re not a dark witch, are you?” Patience asked jokingly. Anne gave her a dark look. “So you found out after all.” Anne said darkly but her grin told Patience that she had only been joking. “I came to get you Patience Wood.” Anne burst into laughter when she saw John’s face that passed them. Patience turned around. He looked scared and he was the only one who could look stupid even when he was scared. “And I’m after you as well, John King!” Anne said in her best mean voice. She stood up moving very slowly. John ran out of the Great Hall.

Patience laughed heartily. “Don’t laugh you’re days are numbered.” Anne acted like a mixture between a robot and a Zombie. She went around the table. “And when I have finished you I’ll get the Slytherins all of them not only those who are left to their fate at Hogwarts.” Anne had to stop her little speech because she couldn’t help laughing. Snape looked disgusted but Dumbledore, McGonagall and Flitwick smiled at her little sketch. Anne sat down next to Patience. “Poor John.” Patience managed to say. Anne shook her head. “Sympathy?” She asked still laughing. Patience shook her head.

One of the Slytherins had watched Anne interestedly. It was Gregory Nott. He was in his sixth year. He had watched Anne all term long. ‘A pity that she always hangs around with this Wood girl.’ He thought. The other Slytherins left. Greg, however, stayed behind. “Oh yes, a little romance.” Flitwick sighed next to Snape. Snape followed Flitwick’s gaze and saw Greg’s dreamy face. Patience and Anne left the Great Hall closely followed by Greg. Patience and Anne were giggling every now and then. ‘Send her away. Send her away.’ Greg thought to himself. Patience and Anne ran into Flitwick. “Miss Symmons that’s no way to treat a young gentleman.” Flitwick told her in passing.

Anne wondered what he had meant. She turned around and then she saw Greg. He was tall and had dark brown hair. His eyes were of a warm brown. He smiled at her. Anne smiled back. Patience had turned around as well. “That’s one of the Slytherins.” She hissed. “I know.” Anne informed her. He drew nearer very slowly. “Hello!” He greeted them – or rather only Anne because he didn’t even look for a second at Patience. “Hello!” The two girls replied. “My name is Greg.” Greg introduced himself. “That’s Patience and I’m...” “Anne. I know that you’re Anne. I think that’s a beautiful name.” Anne blushed a little. “Thank you.” Anne said. She couldn’t think of anything to reply though. Patience grinned. “I have to ask professor Flitwick something.” She told the two and hurried away.

“I liked your acting in the Great Hall. Want to walk around the castle a little?” He asked shyly. “Yeah why not.” Anne replied. “You played dead in Snape’s class. The Other fifth years told me about that.” Anne shrugged. “That was before you were knocked out at Quidditch.” Greg added. “Seems you know a lot about me. Funny, I don’t know anything about you – except what you just told me: You’re Greg and you are a big fan of Anne.” Anne said jokingly. “Oh, all right. I’m in my sixth year. I’m a broomstick collector. My parents are very rich and I have a House-Elf of my own, unfortunately I’m not allowed to bring it to Hogwarts.” “It?” Anne interrupted him. “You refer to your House-Elf as an ‘it’. Shame on you.” Anne spat at him and left.

In the meantime Patience had met Snape. “All alone without your shadow, Miss Wood? Seems your little friend explores the world of love. Three is a crowd.” Snape said arrogantly. Patience had just opened her mouth to answer when she saw Anne coming. She was fuming with anger. “It, I’d give you – it, if I were your House-Elf. It!” Anne muttered. Snape turned around. “That was a very short romance.” Snape commented. Anne gave him an angry look. “Did I disturb you two?” She asked looking at Patience. “I just wanted to keep Miss Wood company until you were free again.” Snape bowed his head slightly and left.

“What is he talking about?” Anne asked. “Seems that everybody has noticed that Greg – well.” Patience explained. “Don’t mention that name again. He has a House-Elf. And he refers to this House-Elf as ‘it’.” Anne was really angry. “You don’t like him just because he calls his House-Elf ‘it’. He seemed to really like you. You should give him another chance.” Patience advised her friend. “You really think so?” Anne asked in disbelief. Patience nodded. “You won’t find somebody who is perfect.” Patience reminded her. Anne nodded. “Well, perhaps he shows up again.” Anne remarked. “No, not perhaps. Go and ask him if he wants to join us for lunch today.” Patience ordered. “You know what the other Slytherins will say.” Anne groaned. “That will be his problem and not yours.” Patience told her. “All right, I’ll ask him.” Anne trod of.

“Tut, tut, Miss Wood. You as cupid.” Snape said with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I always thought you and Miss Symmons weren’t too fond of the things other girls your age normally do. But of course two beautiful couples Miss Symmons and Mr. Nott and Mr. Alret and you.” Snape snarled. Patience blushed. “I’ll take care that there will be no night time visits between the different towers. You better warn your friend.” “Oh, if you think that that is necessary then go and warn her yourself.” Patience spat at him. “Are you asking for a detention, Miss Wood?” Snape snapped back. Patience turned around and left.

Cupid’s Arrows

Patience slammed the door of the common room. “Hey, take it easy. We haven’t paid off the tower, yet.” Anne welcomed her. “I can’t stand this man!” Patience informed her friend. “He’s arrogant and he’s eavesdropping. He’s awful and he’s stupid.” Patience listed angrily. “Yeah, you’re right. You forgot that he is nosy as well.” Anne agreed. “Whom are we talking about?” Anne added casually. “Snape.” Patience replied. “Then you forgot that he is cruel and stubborn.” Anne remarked. Patience placed herself in one of the armchairs. “What did he do to make you so angry?” Anne wanted to know. “He warned me. He’ll be patrolling the corridors to make sure that nobody of Gryffindor goes to Slytherin.” Patience reported.

“Who would want to do such a thing?” Anne asked disgustedly. Patience looked at her. “Guess.” “What? He doesn’t think that I would be the person? He’s crazy.” Anne stated. “And he thinks that Hengist and I are a couple, as well.” Patience revealed. Anne laughed. “Yeah, why not.” She said. “You know we should do him the favour some day. Just imagine he eavesdrops that I’ll meet with Greg some night. He would be awake, don’t you think so. Course we could repeat that several times.” Anne suggested. “Greg will never agree.” Patience reminded her friend. Anne shrugged. “He doesn’t have to know, has he? I mean Snape doesn’t have to hear me telling Greg it would be enough if he heard me telling you or Hengist.” Anne explained.

Patience grinned. “What do you think, how much sleep does a potions master need?” Patience asked evilly. “Think we’ll find out soon.” Anne replied. “By the way is Greg eating with us today?” Anne nodded. They planned some details of their little trick until it was time to have dinner. Greg awaited them in front of the Great Hall. “Anne why don’t you come and sit with the other Slytherins?” Greg asked a little shy. “Nay Greg, it’s crowded over there. But if you don’t want to sit at the Gryffindor table, I mean as a Slytherin...” “No, it’s all right.” Greg assured her. Greg sat next to Anne. “You like it in Slytherin?” Patience asked. “Of course. It’s a family tradition to be in Slytherin. My parents have been in Slytherin and their parents before and their parents and their parents and before them their parents...” “We got the picture Greg, thank you.” Anne interrupted him.

“What about you, Anne? In which house have your parents been?” Greg asked. “Oh my parents didn’t go to Hogwarts they went to Hazelnut Forreth. My grandparents all went to different schools. I’m the first to go to Hogwarts as far as I know.” Anne reported. “What about you Patience?” Anne asked. ”Oh, we are a traditional Hogwarts family. My father went to Gryffindor and my mother to Hufflepuff. However, I believe, a cousin of Auntie Caroline’s went to Slytherin.” Anne stared at Patience who shrugged apologetically. “Every family has a black sheep, and the line of Auntie Caroline is ours. Slytherin! Oh, no offence, Greg”, she hurried to say seeing Greg’s scowl.

“My family sticks to its traditions. So it’s perfectly clear that my children will go to Hogwarts and will be sorted to Slytherin as well.” Greg told them. Anne rolled her eyes when Greg didn’t look at her. “I hope none of you has muggles in her family. Muggles are so disgusting.” Greg said suddenly. Anne opened her mouth to tell him of but Patience kicked her under the table. “I agree with my parents muggles could replace House-Elves one day but until then they should keep away from us.” This time Anne kicked Greg – very hard. “Ouch!” “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Anne sighed apologetically. “I’ll take you back to Slytherin tower.” Anne said and grabbed his arm. Together they left the Great Hall. Patience grinned as she watched them leave. She turned to Hengist. “I really should have told Greg that a cousin of my mother’s married a muggle. And it wouldn’t have been a lie!” Hengist grinned nastily. “Yeah, and you could have invented that that cousin of your aunt who went to Slytherin was muggle-born!” They burst into laughter.

They met again for dinner. “I can’t stand another of his stupid statements. We’ll play the trick on Snape once then I’ll say good bye to – oh hello Greg!” “Hello dear.” Greg greeted Anne. “Hello Greg.” Patience greeted him but didn’t get any reply. Anne had stopped listening to Greg’s stupid rubbish. She kept on smiling though. Patience did the same. Greg didn’t notice. He talked merrily the evening away. “Let’s go to the Slytherin tower.” Anne suggested when she had noticed that Snape was about to leave. Snape’s eyes followed them.

Patience was left behind. Slowly she left the Great Hall and went up to Gryffindor tower. Anne arrived a few minutes later. “Did he really tell us about his family estate in Wales?” Anne asked. Patience shrugged. “All right operation get Snape out of bed can begin.” Anne said. Patience and Anne left the common room. They had decided to stroll along the corridors until they ran into Snape. Of course they pretended to be looking after Bethesda. “Bethesda?” Patience called her cat. “Greg asked me to meet him tonight at eleven o’clock. What do you think?” Anne asked conspicuously. “If I were you I’d go and meet him.” Patience advised her. “But it’s past bedtime. We shouldn’t be around then.” Anne intervened. “C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t want to go there!” Patience replied. “Bethesda!” Anne called. “Sure I wanna go.” Anne said.

“Well, then it is a deal. I’ll go and meet Greg at eleven o’clock tonight.” Anne said happily. Snape had heard them but instead of staying awake and wait until eleven o’clock he decided to confront the two girls directly. “You’re not going to meet Mr. Nott tonight, Miss Symmons. You’ll have a detention. You’ll help me collecting some herbs and since we don’t want Miss Wood to feel lonely or neglected we’ll ask her to join the detention.” Snape ordered. “But it’s winter. There is snow outside there are no herbs around that time of the year.” Patience protested. “There are certainly no daisies around. I’ll pick you up at nine o’clock.” Snape snarled. “Nine o’clock, we’ll freeze if we run around out there for more then five minutes.” Anne retorted. Snape crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You better go and get ready otherwise you’ll have to go like that.” Snape spat.

Patience and Anne turned around and went back to the common room. They changed into their warmest clothes. Anne took two pairs of gloves and her shawl was laid around her head three times. Patience put on another pair of socks and a woollen cap, which almost covered her eyes. They placed themselves in front of the common room. Snape had to look at them twice to say who was who. He only wore a shawl and normal gloves (all right and his normal robe...). They went down and out of the castle. Patience who was the shortest of the three got almost lost in the snow. Anne reached out for her hand and dragged her to the forest. Snape tramped as fast as he could.

“Stop!” Anne exclaimed. “What?” Snape barked. “I lost my boot.” Anne explained and put her hand deep in the snow. Patience grinned. Anne pulled her boot out of the snow. Unfortunately she lost her balance and had to be pulled out of the snow next. “You’re worse than first years.” Snape told them reproachfully. Anne tried to get the snow out of her boot and put it on again. She had decided to run into the next tree to give Snape a little snow shower. (“Sorry professor. It’s so dark. I didn’t see the tree.”) Snape was covered with a thin layer of snow. They had been out and about for an hour when Snape stopped. “The Wise Herb only grows at the foot of a Wishing Oak.” Snape lectured. Anne turned to Patience “I don’t see anything.” She whispered. Patience’s movement showed that she thought that Snape had gone mad.

“To get it you’ll have to shovel away the snow.” Snape went on. Anne took her wand and waved it whispering something undistinguishable. The snow had gone. Snape gave her an angry look. Patience looked in the hole. “I don’t see anything.” She informed Snape. “The Wise Herb grows underground. Miss Symmons will you be so kind to dig – without magic this time.” Snape ordered. Anne took off her gloves. The earth was frozen and Anne had to use all her strength to move layer after layer of the heavy earth. “What does Wise Herb look like?” Patience asked. “It’s a small root with one bigger and several small branches. It’s light brown and smells of...” “FISH!” Anne interrupted Snape’s lecture. She had stood up. With one hand she held the root – as far away of her own body as possible – with the other she covered her nose.

Snape took the root and put it in a little metal box. Anne put the earth back where it belonged and with another wave of Patience’s wand the snow cover had returned. Anne tried to clean her hands in the snow but she preferred dirty hands to frozen hands. They went back to the castle. It snowed heavily by then. When they had reached the castle at last they shivered. Patience performed the ‘Biffido’ spell because Anne couldn’t grab her wand with her gloves on and she refused to take them off. Snape led them up their common room. “Miss Symmons before you leave.” Snape started.

Patience had told the Fat Lady the password. She hesitated for a short moment and then entered the common room. She hadn’t closed the door though. Snape closed the door. He had already taken off his gloves. “Miss Symmons, you shouldn’t hang around with Greg Nott.” Snape told her. “That’s none of your business as long as I don’t meet him after hours.” Anne spat. She could have easily promised Snape to never talk to Greg again but she disliked his way to order the things he wanted. “Miss Symmons don’t you know anything about his family? Your parents won’t know but I’m sure the parents of Miss Wood can tell you a lot about them and perhaps you want to ask Mr. Weasley as well.” Snape advised her in a calm voice. Slowly he stretched out his hand and stroke Anne’s cheek softly. “You have earth there.” He told her and left.

Anne entered the common room. “What did he want?” Patience asked. “I think he put a spell on me.” Anne whispered. “Can you ask your parents about Greg’s family? Snape told me I shouldn’t hang around with Greg because of his family. My parents wouldn’t know but yours and Mr. Weasley.” Anne reported. Patience took a piece of parchment and scribbled a few lines to her parents. “We’ll send this tomorrow.” Patience said. Anne nodded. “Thank you.” She whispered. “I’ll go to sleep now.” Patience told her.

Anne hadn’t put of her jacket or her gloves yet. She sat like this for another hour. Slowly she put of her jacket, her gloves and her shawl. She went to the bathroom and washed her hands. She was a little confused but decided to put the blame on the fact that she was so tired. She got undressed and lay in her bed.

Patience woke her up very early the next morning. “It’s the last day of the break don’t expect me to get up before lunch.” Anne said sleepily. “We got a letter for the owl post, remember?” Patience whispered. Anne jumped out of bed and got dressed as fast as possible. Patience was already dressed and ready to leave. The two girls hurried up the stairs to the owlery. “A fast one – please.” Anne begged and examined the owls. “This looks strong and healthy. I bet she’s the fastest.” Patience said. She looked at a normal size owl with strong wings. Anne nodded. Patience fasted the letter on the owl’s leg and off she went.

“Hope you’re parents will answer soon.” Anne sighed as they went back to the common room. “Oh no, that’s Greg. I don’t want to talk to him.” Anne moaned. Patience led her along another corridor. Slowly they went down to the Great Hall. Anne was very happy to see Greg sitting at the Slytherin table unfortunately he stood up and went towards their table. Snape came to their rescue. He placed himself next to Patience. “I didn’t finish telling you about the Wise Herb yesterday. You’ll only find it during the winter months when the earth is frozen...” “Good morning Anne.” Greg greeted Anne. Anne gave him her best smile and she could have kicked herself for doing that.

In fact she could have kicked Snape as well because he made her do that. She had no intention to give in. “Good morning professor.” Greg added and left when Snape gave him a scanning look. Anne sighed as dramatically as possible. “Today you’ll learn what to do with the Wise Herb.” Snape informed them. Patience put away her breakfast. She couldn’t stand the memory of the smell of the root. Anne hadn’t started her breakfast yet. She wasn’t too hungry anyway. Snape remained at their table until they seemed to have finished. They had only drunken a little after Snape had reminded them of the root. The two girls followed him down to the dungeons. In his office Snap had prepared his chopping board. The root was still in the little box. “Miss Wood since Miss Symmons had to do the main part yesterday today will be your turn. Please cut the Wise Herb into little pieces.” Snape ordered. Patience tried not to breathe. “This reminds me of stinkfern.” Anne whispered.

Patience went suddenly pale. She ran out of the office. “Oh, I shouldn’t have mentioned stinkfern.” Anne added. Snape gave her a reproachful look. “Well, seems you’ll have to cut it then and please be more careful with the Wise Herb than you are usually with your potions’ ingredients.” Snape told her. Anne gave him a disapproving look but kept quiet. Slowly she cut the root. “Did you ask Miss Wood to write her parents about the Nott family?” Snape asked curiously. Anne turned around still holding the little knife. “That’s none of your business neither Greg nor me or anybody else.” Anne informed him. “It would be easier for you if your parents had been at Hogwarts. There are a lot of things that you cannot know. Facts and figures about the different houses and its former inhabitants, Miss Symmons.” Snape replied in a fatherly tone.

Patience entered the office again. She looked miserably. “Gosh, you look like you met your breakfast a second time.” Anne said jokingly. Patience gave her an angry look. “You better sit down, Miss Wood.” Snape drew back a chair for her. Patience went even paler. Snape watched her. “Miss Symmons, you better see your friend up to the common room.” Snape ordered. Anne put away the knife. Patience stood up and left the office. Snape grabbed Anne’s arm softly. She turned and looked at him. “Miss Symmons I just wanted to remind you that I won’t tolerate any night time visits.” Snape said in a deep severe voice. “Don’t worry professor, I never think of visiting you at night – or any other time of the day.” Anne whispered.

Anne left the office and followed Patience up to the common room. Anne opened one of the windows in the common room. Patience sat in one of the armchairs. “Patience?” Anne asked carefully. “Mmh?” Patience groaned suffering. “You think someone can bewitch you by touching you?” Anne whispered. Patience looked at her. “Who bewitched whom?” Patience wanted to know. “Snape me.” Anne replied almost inaudible. “Stop it. I don’t want to hear it. Snape doesn’t bewitch you or anybody else. You are a maniac - a persecution maniac. And he is not a dark wizard and if you ever mention something like this again...” “Stinkfern!” Anne spat at her. Patience threw a cushion at Anne.

Where the Heart is

The other students arrived just in time for dinner. Patience and Anne were especially happy to have Hengist back. “Anne, are you here to eat or just to keep us company?” Hengist asked jokingly. Anne sat in front of her empty plate and didn’t listen. Hengist looked at Patience. “I hope she talked more during the break.” He said smilingly. “Most probably she thinks that the meal was poisoned by...” “Stop it Patience that’s not funny.” Anne had only heard the word poison. “Did anything happen while I wasn’t around?” Hengist asked in a voice that showed that he was sure he had missed something. “Anne thinks Snape has bewitched her.” Patience whispered in Hengist’s ear so that nobody else could hear her.

Hengist turned to Anne. She really looked like she was a worried. Patience didn’t worry about that. It sounded ridiculous after all but Anne really seemed to be scared. Back in the common room Hengist sat next to Anne. “Snape bewitched you?” He asked in a whisper. Anne shrugged. “What happened?” Hengist wanted to know. Anne told him the story about the Wise Herb and the surrounding facts. Hengist listened patiently without interrupting her. When she had finished he looked straight in her face. “I think you’re right. He really bewitched you. But I don’t think it was done with a spell or a potion.” Hengist told her in a kind voice. Anne looked at him. “What was it then?”

“Love.” Hengist replied. “Are you mad I hate him with all of my heart.” Anne retorted. Hengist shook his head. “It’s not that easy. It’s not like that you either hate a person or like a person. If you wouldn’t like him you wouldn’t care. To hate somebody means to like him so much that you think about him and his actions and value those. I think you love him.” Hengist explained. “I don’t want to like him.” Anne said defiantly. “Anne nobody asked you. You can’t decide about that. You can’t do anything against it.” Hengist said calmly. “It’s his fault. He must have given me something to make me feel that way. I hate him.” Anne replied and went up to the dormitory.

Patience had watched the scene. She went after Anne. Anne lay crying on her bed. Patience put her warm hand softly on Anne’s back. “Hengist said I love Snape. I think he’s right.” Anne sobbed. “Well that sounds like a good reason to make friends with him.” Patience suggested. Anne turned round. “You can forget that. I don’t know what he did but I’m sure he gave me something to make me feel this way. I hate him.” Anne informed her friend. Patience rolled her eyes. “You’re crazy.” Patience commented and left.

When the owls arrived the next day there was a letter for Patience as well. She read it. Her mouth opened wider and wider. “Anne, read.” She said and passed the letter to her friend. Anne read it aloud because Hengist was sitting next to them. They had told him about Greg. “’The Nott family were (and some people say are) supporters of You Know Who. They were (are) part of the very inner circle of his confidants. They openly despise muggles, House-Elves, Witches and wizards of muggle families and squibs – to make a long speech short everything non-magic or non-pure. Some say they still practice dark magic.’ Gosh Patience he shouldn’t be allowed around here! We better keep away from him.” Anne sighed.

“Then Snape was right to tell you to keep away from him.” Patience said triumphantly. “Oh please, why didn’t he tell me in the first place about Greg’s family?” Anne spat at her. “First you wouldn’t have believed him, second Greg is in his house, he shouldn’t talk badly about him or his family.” Patience barked back. “Girls, please.” Hengist intervened. “What’s going on? Have you gone mad over the break? I haven’t seen you quarrelling so much since, since – well never before to be precise. Are you crazy quarrelling about Snape? He’s not that good-looking after all.” Hengist told them. “You know Anne, Hengist is right.” Patience admitted. Anne nodded.

The Vampire of Hyphenate Castle

His pale hand reached out and touched her soft neck. Her blue eyes stared at the mysterious man. Yes he was fascinating but at the same time frightening. As his lips lowered to touch her she began to shiver. Her breath grew faster. Slowly she closed her eyes waiting to get kissed. He turned her head carefully. His lips were still approaching her neck. They touched and his teeth run deep into her flesh as he sucked her blood.

“Really, Patience you should stop reading that crap!” Anne advised her friend. “Oh, you have no idea! I love that stuff!” Ghewyn sighed. Patience rolled her eyes. “Actually I wanted serious literature on vampires, I bought this more or less by mistake. But it’s fun reading it!” She assured her friend. “Isn’t it romantic? I wish I could live in a novel.” Ghewyn dreamed. “Yes, in Terrificus at Mattium Castle!” Brian said enthusiastically. “Die unworthy!” Mike drew an invisible sword and attacked Brian. They fought in the background. “If I could be in a novel I would want to be in The Land of Milk and Honey!” This, of course, Hengist had said. “And I in Snowwhite and the Seven Dwarves!” Catherine smiled. “As evil step-mother!” Brian commented still fighting with Mike. The cushion only missed him by an inch.

Connor scratched his head. “I think I’d like Aladdin.” “Pocahontas!” Nelly exclaimed. “I would want to be in all of Jules Verne’s stories.” Jack said. Everybody turned to look at Anne. “What?” She asked. “Where would you like to be?” Anne looked around. She sat on the carpet. “Maybe the sofa would be quite comfortable.” She replied. “Be serious, Anne. In which book would we find you?” Mike asked stopping his fencing practice for a short moment. “Most probably it would be a scientific book. She’d be among the stars or next to the nucleus of an atom or riding on a wave of light.” Patience reported. “Science is at leas as interesting as a good story but who am I telling, you’ve never heard of a good story!” She got up and went to bed. Patience followed her. Anne had already lied down. “Sorry Anne.” She whispered. “It’s okay, as long as I don’t have to read that crab. Tomorrow I’ll give you a great and scientific book on vampires.” She said sleepily. Patience lay awake for some minutes. The night was dark.

“You know, I thought about this story of yours.” Anne declared when she joined Patience at the breakfast table. “I read a couple of pages and then I read a couple of pages of my book.” She leaned forward and began to whisper. “Didn’t you notice anything?” “No!” Patience replied in her normal voice. “What should I have noticed?” Anne looked around. “The description of the vampire…it fits professor Snape.” “Professor Snape a vampire?” Patience exclaimed. “Shh!” “Professor Snape a vampire?” Patience repeated in a lower voice. Anne nodded. “You’ve gone mad.” Patience turned away. Anne grabbed her arm. “I’m serious. He’s pale, you never see his teeth and did you ever see his reflection in a mirror?” “You’ve gone mad.” She replied dryly and prepared to leave. “Wait!” Anne held her back. “Take this with you!” “Garlic?” “It’s good against vampires.” She assured her. “Snape is no vampire!” Patience reminded her friend. “You will not take the garlic?” “No!” “You will regret that!” Anne shouted after her friend and put the garlic back into her pocket.

It was a Saturday and Patience had loads of time having already done most of her homework and with no Gryffindor quidditch practice scheduled for that day. She decided to go to the library to convince Anne that Snape was no vampire. The real good books on vampires, of course, could only be found in the restricted section and so Patience sneaked into it. It didn’t take her too long until she found the shelf containing all the vampire related volumes. Her finger searched the backs of the books. It stopped. “An Insider’s Guide to Vampires.” She whispered. “What are you doing here Miss Wood?” Patience jumped. Professor Snape took the book. He opened it. “I never knew you were interested in vampires.” He said piercing her with his eyes.

“Actually it’s Anne.” Patience replied. “But…” He looked around. “I cannot see Miss Symmons around here.” He drew closer. “No, she isn’t.” Patience said uneasily. “And nobody else is here…” She shook her head. “Only you and me…” Patience nodded. “And it’s just before dawn…” Patience turned her head slightly to see one of the windows. “That leaves enough time…” Patience was now in a trap Snape was so close that she couldn’t move in any direction. He showed his teeth. His canine teeth seemed to grow longer and longer as they moved closer to Patience’s neck. Her breath was short and fast. ‘Thug!’ Patience and Snape heard. Slowly he fell on the ground. Anne stood behind him holding an especially thick volume in her hands. She threw it on the floor. “Quick, we must kill him!” She drew a wooden stake out of her pocket. She knelt down next to Snape aiming it at his heart. She produced a hammer from her other pocket. “Though I doubt he has a heart I will try this.” Patience stopped breathing. Anne swung back her arm.

“You could help me, Patience!” Anne’s voice sounded angrily. “Get up!” Patience didn’t know what to do. She felt petrified. For a moment she thought Snape began to move again. “You damn creature. I’ll kill you!” Anne shouted. A loud noise could be heard. Patience stared at her surroundings. Anne laid on the ground holding something in her left hand. “That damn cat of yours stole my sock.” She complained. Patience sat up. She was in her bed. “It has only been a dream.” She whispered. “A dream? Your cat runs around the castle with my sock most probably she digs a hole and hides it in there.” “Dogs do that not cats!” Ghewyn corrected her. “Who cares!” Anne spat. “You don’t have to say anything, do you?” She looked questioningly at Patience. “What?” She asked absent-mindedly. “Your cat has my sock!” Anne repeated. “Why don’t you wear another pair?” Patience suggested. “I’m gonna get my sock back if it kills me.” She reached for the door. “Wait!” Patience said and got up.

“Where does that cat of yours take her stolen goods usually?” Anne wanted to know. “She doesn’t steal.” Patience replied. Anne stopped. “Well, what would you call it if someone took something that belonged to you and ran away on all her four legs?” “She’s a cat, Anne.” Patience reminded her. Anne turned. “THERE!” She shouted and ran after the cat who had just entered the library. “Hurry up, she still has my sock!” Anne followed her and so did Patience. “Where has she gone?” Patience asked. “Over there!” Anne pointed at one of the shelves. “You go that way, I’ll go this way.” Anne suggested and set after the cat. Patience went the other way but couldn’t find Bethesda. She walked along the shelves until she stopped in front of the row containing the books on vampires. She couldn’t help taking out one volume. “An Insider’s Guide to Vampires.” She whispered. “What are you doing here Miss Wood?” Patience jumped. Professor Snape took the book. He opened it. “I never knew you were interested in vampires.” He said piercing her with his eyes.

Patience couldn’t reply. “You look pale, Miss Wood.” He observed stretching out his hand to touch her forehead. She moved backwards and stumbled over one of the shelves’ feet. She saw Anne standing behind Snape holding a book high up in the air. “No, Anne don’t!” She shouted. Snape turned and stepped aside. Bethesda ran away, Anne let go of the book – by accident – and hit her foot. “OUCH! Why did you do that? I only wanted to frighten her!” She assured her friend. Little pearls of cold sweat resided on her forehead. Snape looked at her feet. “You’re only wearing one sock, Miss Symmons.” “That damn cat has the other one!” She complained. Snape turned towards Patience. He turned back. “I’m afraid your friend is ill.” He knelt down next to Patience. “How do you feel?” Patience stared at him. “I’ll return the book.” Anne said. Patience followed her with her eyes. “What’s wrong, Miss Wood? Miss Wood?” “What?” Snape turned towards Anne again. “She seems to be confused.” “I didn’t sleep well last night.” She explained. “Mmh, because you’re reading that crab about vampires and virgins!” Anne commented sitting down next to her friend. “Vampires?” Snape repeated questioningly.

“So, that is were your interest in vampires comes from.” He stared at her until Patience felt more than uncomfortable. “I think you need a breath of fresh air.” Anne decided and helped Patience to stand up. Snape helped her to support Patience. They reached the door of the castle. Snape opened it. The shun shone brightly and the light blinded them. “At least you will be save from vampires.” Patience choked. “Maybe she is ill.” Snape said concerned. “I can only detect some mental disabilities due to the consumption of too much bad literature.” Snape almost grinned. He knew what sort of bad literature girls at Patience’s age used to enjoy. “I think I better leave you alone now!” Snape decided. He wasn’t too keen on becoming the centre of a girls’ quarrel about good and bad literature. Patience took a couple of deep breaths. Anne leaned at the wall of the castle. “Did you have another nightmare?” Anne wanted to know. “Nothing.” Patience replied. “Nothing? Are you kidding?” Anne asked. “Well, it was about you…” She admitted. “Oh, well, thank you, that must have been a nightmare.” She replied ironically. “You don’t understand you tried to kill Snape.” She revealed.

“What?” Anne shouted. “How did that happen?” Patience told her the whole story. Anne shook her head. “We’ll go back to Gryffindor tower and then we will throw away all your vampire stories!” Patience followed her upstairs. “Not everybody can spend her time reading scientific articles.” She reminded her friend. “Then go on reading your crab and having nightmares – but you can be sure you cannot count on me next time. And please, keep me out of your dreams! And by the way, it wouldn’t work to kill him with a stake – he has no heart.” “Oh, Anne please, you said that in my dream as well!” Patience sighed. “I guess that means it is true!” Anne stated. “Now, give me those stories.” She demanded. Patience handed her a couple of magazines. “That’s all.” “And where’s the one you read yesterday?” “I haven’t finished that one yet.” Patience complained. Anne looked seriously at her. “Here it is.” She gave in. with a relieved expression Anne threw the heap into the wastepaper basket. “And now we’ll go and find my sock.” Anne said and drew Patience outside. “Who threw that away?” Nelly asked reaching into the wastepaper basket. “Mmh The Vampire of Hyphenate Castle – sounds interesting.”

In Search for a Suitable Successor

Dumbledore had called the remaining house teachers to decide about the future of the Defence Against the Dark Arts’ lessons. “I suggest that the house teachers take over this duty and whenever they can spare an hour or two teach the students.” Dumbledore told the assembly. McGonagall shook her head vigorously. “No, Albus, that will not be good for the students! We need a true expert.” On this cue Snape cleared his throat.

“I wasn’t talking of you, Severus.” She replied sharply. He was taken aback. “We need a specialist, someone like Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown!” She stated firmly. “I will not let a theorist take over…” “There will be no other choice!” McGonagall interrupted him. No one else dared to go at him like that. Tiny professor Flitwick raised his voice. “Mr. Brewster-brown seems to be a very competent man…” He reminded the others.

“But he has no idea about teaching. He has been living in his office for twenty years now. He has no idea what is going on in this world.” Dumbledore protested. “He has specialized in demonology, most probably he can’t even remember how to block an unfriendly spell.” The headmaster snapped. “But he knows where he can look it up – if that indeed should be necessary!” McGonagall intervened.

Again professor Snape cleared his throat. “May I say something about Mr. Brewster-brown?” Dumbledore scanned him but before he could refuse McGonagall had told the potions teacher to go ahead. “I have had the pleasure of reading some books and a couple of articles authored by him. He is very well informed and is able to see things and their environments. He keeps his eyes and ears open and definitely is not so far away from the world as you might imagine.”

“Before we intrude further into this matter, what other candidates could fill in the post?” Flitwick wanted to know. “Most of the other specialists are employed by the Ministry or are teaching at universities. Brewster-brown is the one available. He is always willing to help – if it is in his power.” McGonagall reported. Dumbledore remained quiet.

This was no surprise for he knew Brewster-brown and he didn’t exactly like him. He – just like professor McGonagall – had been his teacher when he had been at Hogwarts. The boy, which he was back then, had always been interested in theory more than in practice. Don’t get me wrong. He was far from being bad at practice; however, he spent so much of his time reading books that there was hardly any time for doing the practice.

He had been and still was very curious. He even had a good sense of humour. But he had never been able to win the heart of the current headmaster. Dumbledore had always set his priority on the practice. He thought it of lower importance why certain things had to be done as long as you knew how to do them. Brewster-brown was not innocent. He had told professor Dumbledore that theory was of a high importance and that without it progress would cease. No one likes to be lectured by a sixteen-year-old, and neither did Dumbledore.

Another fact was that he had sent a notice to anyone connected with this subject and so far had only received refusals. He had even asked at the Ministry if they knew someone available for this job. They had; however, the answer had not pleased him. He had been told to ask Mr. Brewster-brown, one of the leading if not the leading scientist in the requested area and known to be good natured.

“I knew you wouldn’t agree.” McGonagall said. “I wrote a letter to him asking if he was willing to fill in for professor Preston.” The deputy headmistress held a letter in her hand. Dumbledore took it. Since we have already bothered you with so many letters you will be spared this one. Of the content will only be so much revealed as will make you understand that Brewster-brown was aware of the antipathy the current headmaster felt towards him. At the same time he was willing to give a positive answer if this had been considered but would not matter.

Dumbledore had to give in for the sake of the students and his own if he ever wanted to have a peaceful relationship with professor McGonagall again. The professors Flitwick and Snape were relieved and in fact looked forward to the new teacher. And so the notice was written and an owl sent to Mr. Brewster-brown who in return sent himself to the castle.

Professor Snape went to collect his colleague in Hogsmeade. He knew him at first sight having seen so many pictures of the man in articles and books. “Professor Brewster-brown?” He asked nevertheless. “Mr. Brewster-brown.” The modest man replied before realizing that his new job would indeed turn him into a professor even if it was just for a couple of weeks. Snape smiled at him – yes, dear reader, this curious teacher is able to smile at times. But he tends to save these facial movements for very special occasions.

The suitcase was light as it was bewitched and so Brewster-brown carried it lightly up to the castle. “I have read almost all your works on Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Snape reported. Brewster-brown blushed slightly. Of course, he knew who professor Snape was but so far had never met him in person and therefore was not quite sure if he really had changed sides. This was one problem he saw in his publishing the enemy was able to read it, too.

“Thank you, professor Snape.” He replied nevertheless. “I must admit that I envy you a bit. You are used to teaching students. I think a piece of parchment is much more patient than a living person.” “Just show them who is boss and they won’t bother you too much.” Snape advised him. Had he known more about the character of the man he would not have told him this. Brewster-brown was not the kind to play boss let alone be one. He loved what he was doing and that was all he had ever wanted to.

“The way from Hogsmeade to the castle seems to have lengthened. When I went to school it was a short stroll and now it has turned into a long march.” He turned around to see how far Hogsmeade lay behind them. “Or maybe I’m just getting old.” He joked. All the while Snape had been thinking whether he should tell him that Dumbledore was not too keen on his return. But in the end he found that his loyalties were with the headmaster and not the expert.

He guided him safely upstairs to the staff room where he was welcomed by professor McGonagall. “Welcome, professor!” She greeted him with a warm smile. And so did almost anyone. “The headmaster wants to meet you in your new office.” McGonagall informed him. He nodded. Snape was the one to accompany him there. Brewster-brown knocked, though the door was open. “Come in!” Dumbledore said.

“This will be your office. I would be very happy if you spent most of your time in here. The students will have many pressing questions. What they now need most is a teacher they can rely on.” Brewster-brown nodded. “If you have any questions professor McGonagall will certainly be very happy to help you.” This was all he could bring himself to say.

McGonagall arrived to collect the new teacher to show him his private rooms. And so the first day slowly ended. After all that had been said and done Brewster-brown stayed in his private rooms when he had returned from his work in his office after all he was to teach the next morning and that was something he had never done before.

Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown

First the students had welcomed the absence of Hunter Preston but finding out that that didn’t mean they had free lessons they began to wonder who would replace him. Rumours that Snape would finally get his chance to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. “I’ll go back to Hazelnut Forreth!” Anne announced directly. “Calm down, maybe he will be less ill-tempered if he has the job of his dreams.” Patience suggested. “Do you believe in miracles?” Hengist asked. At that moment the common room door opened and in came professor McGonagall. “ATTENTION PLEASE!” she called to order and silence. The students turned towards her.

“I have to announce that professor Dumbledore has found suitable replacement for professor Preston.” “Hang on, does Snape count as suitable?” Mike blurted out. A ‘no’ was to be heard which might have come from Anne. Professor McGonagall ignored them. “You will be pleased to find that your new teacher is an expert in demonology. He has agreed to fill in for the rest of the term.” “And then Snape has another go!” Anne whispered. Patience and Hengist quickly stifled their laughter.

Professor McGonagall produced a piece of parchment and put on her glasses. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Your new teacher will be Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown.” “WOW!” Jack exclaimed. All turned towards him. “He’s a genius!” He explained. “You can’t tell me none of you has never heard of him. Honestly, don’t you ever read?” A cushion hit him softly. Fortunately professor McGonagall was already on her way out. The Malignant Magpies sat down in front of their favourite fireplace to discuss the new situation.

“Do you think he will be okay?” Hengist asked tentatively. Patience shrugged. “If he’s a scientist, he must be okay. All scientists are!” “Really? How many do you knew?” Patience wanted to know. Anne fell silent. “But their books are good.” She defended her point of view. “But who has ever heard of teaching books!” Patience reminded her friend. Hengist shrugged “Anybody is better than Snape.” “Exactly!” Anne agreed. “Honestly, why do you have to be so prejudiced!” Patience complained. “Maybe because we were right with Preston!?” Anne replied dryly. “Stop it, girls,” Hengist interrupted them. “Let’s just wait and see who the new teacher is. As for next year’s teacher we will have the whole summer holidays to worry about that.”

The next day they had their first lesson with Professor Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown. When he entered the classroom, everyone had already been eagerly awaiting him. His outer appearance was somehow comforting: bat ears, radiantly blue eyes, smooth darkish hair, not above middle height in stature, ‘scientist’s lips’ (as Anne put it). His clothes were an oddity: a plaited shirt and blue jeans under a robe that didn’t match with the colour of either.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. May I introduce myself?” he started in his deep, warm voice. “My name is Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown. Over the last thirty years I was concerned mostly with Demonology and therefore have no idea about teaching – though some of my colleagues might say that students and demons are alike.” The class chuckled. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” he smiled and began the lesson.

At lunch many students exchanged their thoughts about the new teacher. “I told you he was brilliant,” Jack said. “A true scientist,” Anne added. “Yes, that’s your idea of a knight in shining armour – a scientist stepping out of his book to carry you home on his thesis,” Brian teased her. She scowled at him but did not reply. “Wasn’t it fascinating when he told us about the special abilities which need to be awakened by an initiating spell?” Patience remarked. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to next lesson. What did he say he wanted to tell us about? Hang on…” Hengist had clearly forgotten the name. “Moon Children,” Ghewyn helped out.

Anne had spent most of the time until the next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson in deep thought. Somehow this Moon Child business sounded familiar to her. “Now, who can tell me something about Moon Children?” Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown asked, looking around enthusiastically. Several hands shot into the air. “Yes, Mr Flatley?” “May I go to the bathroom, sir?” Everyone grinned, but Professor Brewster-brown nodded. “Mr Cullen, maybe you have an idea?” Brian swallowed. “Er… maybe they… maybe they meet in moon light and dance in circles?” he tried his luck. “Pity, Mr Cullen, you’re talking about Mooncalves.” Brewster-brown looked around again and noticed that Anne seemed to be completely lost in thought. “Miss Symmons, can you help us with Moon Children?” he kindly asked. Anne startled but caught herself quickly: “Moon Children are very rare and feel the presence of dark wizards. They have the power to stand and fight dark wizards. They feel an inner need to help those who are in true need for it. But all depends on the moon, without the full moon they are wizards and witches like you and me. The only peculiarity about them is that their eyes change colours.” “That was very good, Miss Symmons.” Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown noted appreciatively. Everybody was surprised that Anne had known so much about Moon Children since she hadn’t touched a single book to prepare herself for the lesson.

“Wow! Wouldn’t it be really cool to have such special abilities?” Connor exclaimed. Brewster-brown nodded. “Cool, maybe. However,” he said, “It’s not as easy as you might think. If you have special abilities you must be trained in them. And in the case of Moon Children a teacher is very hard to find. As Miss Symmons said, Moon Children are very rare indeed. Actually, I know of only one way to learn about these abilities, and that is the book by Alabuster Tuttle and Wannabe brown.” “Another book to read,” Nelly whispered disappointed. “Not at all, oh no,” Brewster-brown assured her. “But how can you use a book if you don’t read it?” Jack asked puzzled. “Easily. The authors will talk to you,” the professor explained. “A talking book?” Hengist asked, grinning. “I’d like that for all my subjects!” Brewster-brown smiled. “Yes, wouldn’t we all? However, I would like you to open your perfectly normal books and read the first two pages on the subject of Moon Children. In the meantime I’ll prepare some questions for you to answer.”

In the staff room, Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown took out the parchment rolls containing his class’s answers. By accident one of the rolls fell down and made its way towards the fireplace. Fortunately, Professor McGonagall caught it and put it safely onto the table. “Oh, thank you,” Brewster-brown smiled and launched for it, in the movement pushing Snape’s cup of tea off the table and drenching Flitwick’s book. Emerson Dicket laughed. “Here, sir, be a little more careful.” With a wave of his wand, Emerson set everything alright again and made the tea pot refill Snape’s cup. Brewster-brown began to read the answers. He was amazed by the knowledge Anne Symmons showed. “Is Miss Symmons as brilliant in other subjects?” he asked his colleagues. Snape’s lips curled unpleasantly, but McGonagall was faster: “She is a bright girl, Thaddeus. What was your subject today?” “Moon Children – a rather obscure branch of research to be sure, but as my late uncle Wannabe brown specialised in this field, I happen to know some of it myself.” He did not look at his colleagues or he would have noticed the sudden alarm in Snape’s and McGonagall’s faces. “I never knew Moon Children were part of Demonology!” Flitwick exclaimed. “They aren’t, really,” Brewster-brown laughed. “But they are fascinating, don’t you agree?” “Very fascinating,” Snape said and got up. McGonagall followed him out of the room. “We must inform the headmaster,” Snape said immediately. “Brewster-brown teaching this class of all Moon Children!” He shook his head and they set out to Dumbledore’s circular office.

Dumbledore looked very grave indeed. “So you think Miss Symmons remembers?” he asked. McGonagall nodded with tight lips. “We shall see. For the present let us hope nobody finds out that some features of Moon Children apply to Miss Wood.” “You do not want to tell Brewster-brown to stop, Headmaster?” Snape asked surprised. “Not yet. No harm has been done so far, but I will keep an eye on it.” “Two eyes better.” Snape whispered and of course Dumbledore had heard him. He nodded. “Two eyes, whenever I can spare them.”

Anne had knocked on the door. “Come in! Ah, Miss Symmons. Have a seat.” He placed a chair in front of her and took another one for himself. “How can I help you.” “I would like to know more about Moon Children. I’ve checked the library but there was no literature I could use.” “Well, of course I could tell you, however, I think you will need a lot of answers. I can see questions in your eyes.” Anne looked away. Brewster-brown got up. “Here, this one will leave you with no questions at all.” “How to be a Moon Child – a Guide by Alabaster Tuttle and Wannabe brown.” She read. She looked questioningly at the professor. “And don’t worry if the two start quarrelling.” He added. “But, I’m no Moon Child.” She tried to return the book. “Don’t worry about that. Mr. Tuttle and Mr. brown will be very happy to answer your questions. They didn’t get a lot to do lately. I think they become quite bored in their book.” It looked a very small volume and Anne wasn’t sure it would be able to help her. Lately she had been watching Patience closer than usual. The colour of her eyes did change and around full moon she showed a very strange behaviour, restless and somehow changed from her normal ways.

“Mr. Brewster-brown I must ask you to no longer dwell on the topic of Moon Children. The class has much to learn yet and though it is a fascinating topic you should be about to move on.” “Yes, of course, professor Dumbledore. We will deal with water kelpies next lesson as for Moon Children I think I won a new reader for my uncle’s book.” Dumbledore frowned. “Who?” He asked carefully. “Miss Symmons, in fact I think she could take the path of a demonologist.” “Professor Brewster-brown, you might not be aware of this but we banned all literature on Moon Children from our library because too many bad things have been going on with those. We do not wish spread another of these books in our school. The danger seems too big.” Brewster-brown nodded. “I see, of course I know there has been trouble with these sort of things, however, I’m afraid it is too late. Let me assure you that I don’t think any harm will come from Miss Symmons…” Dumbledore had left the office before Brewster-brown had finished his statement.

He searched the cupboards and drawers in his own office. “Where did I put it?” He wondered aloud. “When did I use it last time? Right, to get to the Sting concert.” He approached one cupboard and drew out the uppermost drawer. On top lay a scarf of Manchester United. He threw it out. The next thing to be seen was a women’s magazine which followed the scarf. A collection of parking tickets followed their precedents. “Ah, there you are you little rascal.” Underneath some CDs he pulled out a sparkling little thing. On closer look it consisted of several circles and a sort of sting. Everything was attached to a delicate chain which he put around his neck. “It’s time to bring things in order again.” He decided. He checked his watch. “I fear I will have to go back to the middle of the night.” He sighed. He turned the inner circle several times. Suddenly it was dark outside. He changed the time on his watch and set out of his office.

His wand unlit in order not to be seen he stumbled over many a statue and by the end of his walk he was the proud owner of some nasty bruises. But he managed – and that was after all the main point. “Alohomora.” He whispered and opened the door as silently as possible. For a moment he hesitated. Should he turn on the light? He tried to find a book – it could be anywhere. He closed the curtains and the door. “Lumos!” The room was now brightly lit. the headmaster looked around. Of course he could have easily summoned the little token, however, as he knew this could create an awful mess knocking down non-involved things.

Naturally, he turned to the shelves first. He knew well what the book looked like and so he could skip most of the books by their looks alone. He could not find it in the shelf. Then he remembered that professor Brewster-brown had been teaching these matters for some time and so he decided to check the desk for it. “There you are you little rascal.” He opened it. “Professor Dumbledore, what a pleasure.” Mr. brown was first to greet the headmaster. “Good evening Mr. brown, Mr. Tuttle. How do you do.” “How do you do.” Mr. Tuttle greeted back. “If I’m not mistaken it’s not evening but in the middle of the night.” He added. “That’s Alabaster Tuttle. He has to nag all of the time!” Mr. brown threw in. “I did not mean to break up a quarrel.” “No, indeed you did not. So where is the Moon Child?” Mr. brown wanted to know.

“I’m afraid, there is none at the moment or well, there is but she does not know yet.” Dumbledore replied. “It’s never too early to learn about these special abilities…” Mr. Tuttle started. “…there can be a time too early. She’s a child and does not know about the world. We want to spare her until…until we no longer can.” This silenced the two. “But then why all this?” Mr. brown asked. “You’re nephew will give you to one of the students tomorrow and…” “The Moon Child, he has found the Moon Child? My nephew, has done it!” Dumbledore shook his head. “Luckily he has not. It’s her friend and she found out. She found out long ago…” “There have been foolish things done to Moon Children.” Mr. Tuttle said thoughtfully.

“Not only to them but also with them.” The two nodded. “Take us with you. Thaddeus Mortimer will understand – some day. We might come in handy one day.” And with this Dumbledore closed the book and put it into his pocket. They were perfectly right. He or rather Patience would need them some day. And he dearly hoped that this day was still very far away. He sighed. “Finite Incantatem.” The light went out and so did the headmaster. Slowly he walked back to his own office where he placed the book in a drawer underneath a scarf of Manchester United, a women’s magazine, a collection of parking tickets, some CDs and a sparkling little thing.

The next day or rather the same day Anne went to see professor Brewster-brown. Anne had knocked on the door. “Come in! Ah, Miss Symmons. Have a seat.” He placed a chair in front of her and took another one for himself. “How can I help you.” “I would like to know more about Moon Children. I’ve checked the library but there was no literature I could use.” “Well, of course I could tell you, however, I think you will need a lot of answers. I can see questions in your eyes.” Anne looked away. Brewster-brown got up. “Here, this one will leave you with no questions at all. Funny, I could have sworn that I had placed it here or did I put it in the shelf…” He checked the shelf. Nothing. “I’m sorry, I must have misplaced it, Miss Symmons.” He searched on. “I have told you everything I know about Moon Children.” He stopped. He looked at Anne. “Would you have a look, maybe I don’t see the wood because of all the trees.” Anne nodded and got up. “Speaking about ‘wood’, ‘not seeing the wood’, I mean, would you recognize a Moon Child, if you saw one, that is.” He turned. His eyes sparkled for a short moment. “Well, I’ve watched you and I’d say you’re none. Might be wrong, though. You don’t find a Moon Child with brown eyes.” “Then anyone with blue, grey or green eyes could be one.” The professor nodded. “Theoretically.” “You could be one.” She burst out. He stopped. “Theoretically, mind you I’m perfectly sure I am none.” “How do you know.” Anne insisted. He stopped the search. “First of all, my eyes don’t change colours and secondly, my uncle wrote a book on Moon Children he told me.”

Of course Anne wasn’t satisfied with this answer but had to accept it since the book was nowhere to be found. Anne stared at what seemed to be a glass ball. She had never noticed before – well she was in the office for the first time. It drew her interest. “Is this part of demonology?” She asked pointing at the ball. “Yes, sort of.” Professor Brewster-brown took it into his hands. “It’s a rock crystal. It shows the future. At least sometimes it does.” He looked at Anne. “Would you like to take a look.” “No, I don’t do professor Trelawney’s class. I would not know how to do it.” The professor laughed. “Do you believe in the gift of foresight, Miss Symmons?” “For all I know there might be something like that, personally I’d rather be surprised than know in advance.” He laughed. “Yes, you would worry too much.” He looked into the crystal. “If it only showed me the whereabouts of the book.” Mist build up inside the ball and cleared. Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown could witness how Dumbledore entered his office and took the book. At first he was taken by surprise, however, slowly he began to understand.

He put the crystal back to its place. “It’s not easy to tell a Moon Child from a normal person, Miss Symmons, and as far as I know there has been no Moon Child in years. However, should I find the book I will let you know.” He checked his watch. “Do you have the afternoon off?” Anne checked her own watch. “Heavens no, bye – and thank you for everything.” She ran out of the office and still managed to be late to professor Binns’ class. Only Hengist and Patience noticed.

Professor Dumbledore had his talk with professor Brewster-brown. “…I almost won a new reader for my uncle’s book pity that it is gone. I hope it is in good hands.” He said knowingly. “It will be in the right hands if it is time.” He nodded.

Careers Advice

“Do you know why all this stuff is lying around here?” Connor asked, taking up a leaflet about working at Gringott’s. “I’d say it’s because we shall think of what we want to do,” Ghewyn airily explained. She had gathered quite many of the leaflets and was reading them now. “What do you want to do, Ghewyn?” Connor enquired, flipping through the leaflet he held in his hand without apparent interest. “I want to work at the Ministry, and it would be great to work in the Department of Mysteries,” Ghewyn answered, her cheeks glowing. Connor sighed. “No, not for me. I cannot imagine either working in a bank or in the Ministry.”

Hengist, on his way to fetch his history book, stopped on hearing that. “Me neither,” he confessed. “What do you two want to do, then?” Ghewyn asked. “I don’t know,” Hengist said. Connor grimaced. “My dad wants me to work somewhere decent. He says a journalist at the Daily Prophet would be a good thing.” “And what do you think?” Hengist asked. Connor shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t be too bad if I can work in the field, you know what I mean?” “Sure. I’d love to do something with animals,” Hengist thoughtfully stated. “Well, I expect Professor McGonagall will tell each of us what she thinks best,” Ghewyn said and buried her nose again in the leaflets.

Sure enough, Professor McGonagall asked for every Gryffindor Fifth Year to see her the next day. She had sorted them alphabetically, which meant that Hengist was the very first to see her in the morning – and Patience had to wait until the evening. Patience grinned. “Gives me more time to think of what I can tell her,” she said happily. Nelly stared at her: “You cannot have no idea!” “Yes, I can. Nelly, I haven’t got a clue of what I want to become.” “But you’re really good at Potions, and also at Herbology, so why don’t you try and become a healer?” “Not the best idea,” Mike whispered and he and Brian chuckled. “She might accidentally poison her patients.”

Patience laughed. “Most probably. No, rather not a healer. What about teacher?” “You?” Anne exclaimed. “Why not?” Now Patience was a bit offended. Anne hurriedly explained herself: “Not that you don’t have the abilities, but the poor students! You’d shower them with information and they will not be able to follow you and then they will sleep away like in Binns’ classes.” “Did I say I wanted to teach history? Why not potions?” “Because Snape will never give away his job unless he gets the post as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and that will never happen, so stop dreaming about that,” Hengist said decisively. Patience sighed. “See, and that’s why I have no idea.” Hengist looked at her closely. He was sure his friend was hiding something. But most probably they would get to know what it was by evening. Hengist looked at his watch and grabbed his bag. “I’m off, see you, then!”

He walked straight to McGonagall’s office and knocked. She called him in and told him to sit down, thrust a box of biscuits towards him and took a roll of parchment bearing Hengist’s name. “Now, Mr Alret, I see you have made good progress in Care of Magical Creatures. It is not surprising, however, that your marks in Muggle Studies are excellent. What did you have in mind for a career?” Hengist swallowed. “I… I’m not sure,” he said in a low voice. ”Well, I know that Professor Dicket is always looking for people doing Advanced Muggle Studies. It would be an opportunity to learn a muggle profession or study at a muggle university and then work for the Ministry.”

“I’d rather not work for the Ministry, Professor,” Hengist said. McGonagall smiled. “You could also work with magical creatures somewhere,” McGonagall offered. “There are some zoos who desperately need young wizards to help them – and of course there’s also the jobs at the Ministry…” She raised her hand when Hengist was about to interrupt her. “The jobs at the Ministry where you can deal with wizards who keep illegal breeds. Not a desk job, rather an outdoor one, and that would suit you best, I think.” Hengist nodded. “That sounds well. What do I have to do for N.E.W.T.s?”

“You better keep Muggle Studies, as even in working with magical creatures you often get into contact with muggles. Of course Care of Magical Creatures, better do Charms and Potions and Transfiguration as well – but be warned, Professor Snape and me only accept people with top O.W.L.s!” “I will keep that in mind. Thanks, Professor,” Hengist said and left. He told Anne and Patience about the meeting at lunch, as before that there was no time. “That sounds good to me,” Anne said. “And now it’s your turn,” Patience cheerfully stated. “Have you got an idea by now?” Hengist asked. “Nope,” Patience replied, obviously not bothered by that. Anne and Hengist exchanged a dark glance.

When Anne went to see McGonagall, she was a little nervous. “Ah, Miss Symmons, sit down. So, what do you want to do in your life?” She asked. “I’m not sure, I’d like to write. I’d like to help others. I’d like to so something fascinating like physics – muggle studies first, of course…” “Yes, yes, I can see you have many ideas. And you have all possibilities. Muggle studies indeed is a good starting point. It helps you to understand both sides better. As for a muggle life career, I cannot advice you on this one. Therefore I shall dwell on the wizarding world. You are talented in the fields of transfiguration and charms, you are good at muggle studies, care of magical creatures and Defence Against the Dark Arts and I think these subjects give you the most fun. Take your time to think about them and I’m sure you’ll find the right thing for you. And professor Brewster-brown lets you know that you will always be welcome to do demonology with him.”

“Done,” Anne said happily, and hurried to meet her friends. She found Hengist in the Common Room, but Patience was not there. “She’s outside to think,” Hengist informed Anne. Anne grinned. “And that shall help? I’m not that sure…” But Patience had something in mind, something she had cherished for so long that she had grown used to it. But as she knew how strange her wish was, she had told no one, neither her friends nor her family. Now she was trying to calm herself down to be able to tell Professor McGonagall what she had in mind. Patience went to her office with trembling hands.

She knocked, and McGonagall called her in. She looked at Patience and smiled one of her rare smiles. “Sit down, Miss Wood, and don’t be nervous, it’s only a matter of advice.” “Yes, Professor,” Patience answered, did as she was told and waited for what was to come. Obviously McGonagall had her school record in front of her. Patience sank a bit deeper into the chair. That record certainly wasn’t too clean. “Although Professor Snape will hate to admit it, you are one of his best students ever, Miss Wood,” McGonagall finally began. “And so you are in my class. If you excelled as much in every other subject, the profession of an Auror would not be out of the question.” McGonagall waited. Patience blushed. She had not expected this.

”Thank you, but, no, I don’t want to be an Auror,” Patience finally managed to say. In secret McGonagall was relieved. It had been a foolish idea from the start to suggest it, but Dumbledore had insisted on it. He had said that the Moon Child as Auror would be wonderful, as she would be better trained then if the worst should happen. McGonagall had seen the dangers and thought them too high to hope for a career as Auror for Patience Wood. Now the girl refused she was relieved. “Did you have something in mind?” McGonagall enquired kindly. “Actually, yes. I… I would love to work in the Department of Magical Sports and Games at the Ministry,” Patience burst out.

She was waiting for the row of laughter she half expected, but McGonagall only adjusted her glasses and nodded. “An excellent idea, with your knowledge about Quidditch you would be highly useful there.” Patience beamed at her House Teacher. “Do you really think so?” she asked. “Yes, I do, Miss Wood. Now, let me see what you would need as N.E.W.T.s then.” McGonagall looked at a list she had on her desk. “I would advise you to keep Muggle Studies by all means, one never knows where you might get in contact with muggles, and the Ministry likes to have people with a thorough understanding of muggle life. You could leave Potions, if you wanted to, and also Divination, Ancient Runes, and History.” Patience frowned. “But I can keep them?”

“Of course you can. The required N.E.W.T.s include Charms, Transfiguration, Flying and Defence Against the Dark Arts.” “Why the last one?” Patience enquired curiously. “You never know whom you meet,” McGonagall shrugged. “But if I want to I can keep all my subjects?” “Theoretically you can, Miss Wood – if you get the sufficient O.W.L.s, that is.” “Oh, good. And you think it possible I can work there?” Patience asked yet again. McGonagall nodded and smiled. ”You can, and if I can help you, I will.” “Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall!” Patience beamed and left the office, feeling as happy as she could not imagine ever to have been.

Occult Practices

An oversized pendulum hung from the ceiling of Brewster-brown’s classroom as the fifth years gathered there. “Hello everybody, now, what do you think?” This was a very common question to come from the teacher. He liked to make the students think. “I know what it is.” Anne announced. “You can show the movement of the earth – our planet – with it, however, you need to add a box filled with sand so that we can see the movement better. You make the pendulum swing and in the course of the day you will get a sort of flowery ornament in the sand.”

“Brilliant Miss Anne – but no. Then again your use is much more scientific and less dangerous than what I have in mind.” Patience drew in her breath rather sharply. “You don’t mean to say that we are going to look into the future, professor?” “That’s exactly what I have planned to do.” He stated. “But that’s rubbish, you cannot look into the future neither with a goldfish bowl nor with a pendulum.” Anne complained. “It’s a crystal ball and how would you know, you never tried.” Hengist reminded her. “And when would – Mr. I can look into the future – have seen anything that has really happened?” She replied coldly. Hengist cleared his throat but otherwise remained quiet.

“It seems we have found ourselves two volunteers to undertake an experiment.” He waved his wand and two tables and two chairs appeared on each table lay a pendulum. “Now would you please take a seat while the others remain in their places.” He said and changed seats with Anne. Hengist joined her at one of the front tables. “Now take the pendulum and try not to move your wrists in the following procedure. It is a widely known fact that if a pendulum moves like that…” He made a gesture. “…it means ‘yes’, if it moves like this…” He made another gesture. “…it means ‘no’. I will ask you a couple of questions now. The pendulum rather.”

The students stared at the two pendulums. “First question: Is anyone in love with you?” Hengist blushed heavily and so did Anne. At first neither of the pendulums moved but all of a sudden Hengist’s started and formed a ‘yes’. He was quite satisfied with that. “Miss Anne, what do you think that means?” Brewster-brown wanted to know. “Maybe it didn’t listen.” She replied. Everybody laughed. “Next question: Does anyone hate you?” Vargas, Banks and Cook threw angry glances at Anne’s pendulum for it didn’t move while Hengist’s showed a definite ‘yes’.

“Maybe Anne’s pendulum is broken!” Someone suggested. “Good point, would you change the pendulum with Hengist?” He asked. Anne shrugged and did as she was told. “The next question: Will you ever get married?” Anne’s pendulum did not move. Hengist’s formed a ‘no’. “Could I get my old pendulum back?” Hengist asked jokingly. “Maybe you have to turn it by 90 degrees and you will get a ‘yes’ again.” Anne suggested. He tried but again it was a ‘no’ in the end. “Could I ask a question?” Anne wanted to know. “Yes, certainly.” The professor encouraged her. “Is all this pendulum look into the future business rubbish?” This time the pendulum moved and gave a ‘yes’. All students were aghast. “Is all this crystal ball gazing nonsense?” Again she received a ‘yes’. “Am I only getting answers now because I move my wrist?” She said and again formed a ‘yes’. The others were divided some laughed and some thought this to be a rather bad joke.

“But I didn’t move my wrist! Honestly.” Hengist protested. “Mr. Alret, you simply did not notice.” Brewster-brown explained. “You cannot control your body so that there will be no movement at all – unconsciously you did move because you believed this pendulum method to be true.” “But maybe Anne moved her wrist in order not to make the pendulum move.” Patience threw in. “Very good, Miss Wood. That’s why we will do another experiment. Brewster-brown installed a support – two supports, one for each – on top of the tables. Hengist had to put his arm on the first one. Brewster-brown tied the arm and especially the hand to the support – but not without asking several times if he was comfortable. Then he repeated the procedure with Anne.

“Now we will tie the pendulum to the indicating and the middle finger.” He explained. The support was constructed in a way that allowed it to move these two fingers together to hold the pendulum. “Now we will have the questions again.” He announced and as they went through the questions again – including Anne’s silly ones they noticed that neither pendulum moved. “You see that this is a method that simply doesn’t work if you bring it down to purely scientific use.” Hengist and Anne were freed and were allowed to return to their seats.

“Now I need some more students. I think five for each table.” He said. At one table some Gryffindor students settled while the other was occupied by the Slytherins. Patience sat comfortably at the Gryffindor table where she had been joined by Brian, Mike, Catherine and Connor. At the Slytherin table were Vargas, Banks, Cook, Rosemary and Helen. The professor spread cards with letters on the tables. They built a circle. Anne and Hengist sat next to the teacher.

“Now we will have another set of questions. To answer those you will need a glass.” He waved his wand and in the middle of the tables a glass appeared – upside down. “Put your indicating finger of your left hand on the glass.” He ordered. “First question: Who will be the next winner of the Quidditch league?”. The glass on the Gryffindor table moved to the ‘p’, ‘u’, ‘d’, ‘d’, ‘l’, ‘e’, ‘m’, ‘e’, ‘r’, ‘e’. “Puddlemere United!” Patience exclaimed happily. At the same moment on the other table the word Ballycastle was formed. “You’re doomed!” Vargas snorted. Patience grimaced as a reply to that.

“The next question is – but no, we will turn one set of the cards first.” Brewster-brown waved his wand and the cards on the Gryffindor table turned so that the letters were no longer visible. “In which month will be the first snow at Hogwarts this year.” The Slytherin team formed ‘November’ while the Gryffindor table produced ‘mygwits’. Everybody laughed. “I think we better watch out for the month of mygwits.” Brewster-brown said laughingly turning the cards on the other table and making the letters on the Gryffindor table visible again.

“And the last question will be: What is my favourite colour?” The Gryffindor table produced the word ‘blue’ while the Slytherins got ‘wld’. “I’m afraid you’re both wrong, actually my favourite colour is brown. I hope this was enough to convince you that these techniques are rubbish as well.” “But, professor, we did get some words…” “Yes, Mr. Alret, but again the glass was moved unconsciously as you could see by the rubbish we got if the letters were invisible. You don’t reckon that the spirit has to see them lied openly on the table and if why would he need our hands to move the glass? It just doesn’t make sense.” Hengist nodded.

“But we are kind and we will give the spirit one last chance to prove its existence. “Mr. Alret, Miss Anne would you join me again?” He made the two tables disappear and produced a new one which was smaller with it went three chairs. “Miss Anne, you take this chair, and Hengist you this one. I’ll take the one in the middle.” They sat down. “What we will do now is to lie our hands on the table so that the little fingers of our hands touch…hang on my chair isn’t even.” The teacher ducked and appeared again. He placed his hands on the table. “Turn down the lights a bit!” He ordered. “We will say something to the spirit now. Are you ready?” The two students nodded. “Hello spirit in the sky we tried to contact you, are you by any chance around?” The teacher started mysteriously. Hengist was the next to speak. “Er, hello spirit it would be great if you showed us a sign of your existence…” “Well, spirit in the sky, I don’t think you’re there but anyway…” On her last word the table began to move upwards. Anne turned pale and jumped from her chair almost crashing into the big pendulum. “What was that?” She whispered. The table was lowered again. Brewster-brown grinned.

“See, there was a spirit!” Hengist told her. “No, Mr. Alret, there was no spirit.” Brewster-brown said. He showed his arms attached to them were two wooden rulers. “These are not only extremely helpful to get a line straight but also to lift lighter tables. I hope you’re not too angry Miss Anne.” Anne had to sit down her knees felt quite weak. “I’m just glad there was no spirit.” She whispered. The bell rang. “We’ll call it a day for today. And please keep in mind that most of these things are tricks and anyway never let them scare you if there was a spirit who wanted to contact you this would already have happened. And by the way three points to anyone who helped with today’s experiments.” The students filed out. Anne remained on her chair her two friends trying to cheer her up.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t think this would have such a big effect on you. Do you want to go to the hospital wing to get something to calm you down?” The professor asked concerned. Anne shook her head. “No, if I’m late professor Snape will take me apart and I think I was scared enough for today.” She got up and went outside her two friends assisting her, carefully making sure that she didn’t crash into anything.

The Dark Mark

It was a very unusual sight to see four Slytherins sloping down for breakfast, looking as if they had not slept a minute and ducking to escape the angry looks of their house teacher. Snape looked more furious than usual, Anne noticed. “Patience, what do you think? Has the son of a bat really done something to his own house?” Patience shrugged. “Go and find that out”, she suggested. “Greg will be delighted to inform you, I guess.” Anne grimaced. Hengist chuckled delighted. “You shouldn’t laugh about that, really”, Patience scolded him. “We have Potions today, and I personally like it better to know what is about to come!” That silenced Hengist immediately.

Anne slowly got up and walked over to the Slytherin table, ignoring the derisive hisses from Banks, Vargas and Cook. Greg Nott looked up from his cup of tea and nearly choked seeing Anne approach him with a beaming smile upon her face. Hengist and Patience watched her progress with anxiety from the Gryffindor table. Snape glared down at Anne, but she didn’t seem to care. “Good morning, Greg”, she said – or rather cooed. Greg nudged the boy next to him to clear his place and invited Anne to take a seat. “Oh, thanks, but… couldn’t we talk in privacy?”, she asked. Greg shot up, causing Patience to giggle and Hengist to scowl at her.

Anne and Greg walked out of the Hall. “Oh no, Snape is going to follow him!”, Hengist exclaimed shocked. Patience jumped up and almost ran to catch Snape before he walked out of the door. “Professor Snape, I’ve got a question!”, she called. Snape turned. Judging by his look Patience had turned into the ugliest creature in the world. “Not now, Miss Wood”, Snape said impatiently. “Oh, but…” Patience made her face look like the picture of disappointment. Snape sighed. “What?”, he snapped. “If I add Gillyweed to daffodil roots and take a spoonful of cinnamon, is this a good way to make up a potion against acne?”, Patience asked innocently. Snape rolled his eyes. “Not for me”, she hurried to say. “I have been asked for advice.”

This was quite probable because every Gryffindor knew that Patience was great in Potions – if it weren’t for Snape. “This would be a certain way to kill the poor creature you try it on, but in a very small dose it could be used for healing wounds and repressing inflammation. Does this answer your silly question?” “Yes, thank you very much, professor.” Patience smiled thankfully and went back to the Gryffindor table. That should have given Anne and Greg enough time to vanish. It had.

When Anne came back – alone, of course, she always managed to get rid of Greg some way or other -, she glowed with excitement. “You’ll never believe this!”, she said mysteriously. “And you haven’t got the time to tell us, for Snape awaits us in his dungeon”, Patience sighed. They walked downstairs. Snape had written something on the blackboard and Patience grinned broadly. “So he does something for me today”, she joked. Hengist stared at her as if he wanted to indicate she had lost her wits completely. “This is the potion I asked him for – more or less”, Patience explained. Indeed it was a potion against acne and Snape snarled: “As it seems to be necessary to teach you this special potion and to relieve Miss Wood from her job of advising you all in making up potions, we are going to do this one together today.” The whole class turned and stared at the blushing Patience who busied herself eagerly with cutting her ingredients.

After the lesson in which Snape continued to make sharp remarks directed to Patience, she was relieved to escape the dungeons. “Anne, that was horrible”, she said, leaning against a wall. “And now I want to be paid for that!” Anne grinned. “You mean I shall tell you what happened? Okay, I’ll give you a full account on our way to the greenhouses.” “We don’t have Herbology now, Anne”, Hengist reminded her. “True, but did you forget we have Care of Magical Creatures with Kettleburn at the greenhouses today?” Hengist had completely forgotten. “Okay, now listen. You won’t believe just how stupid these Slytherins are!” She burst into laughter. “C’mon, Anne, go on!”, Patience urged her. “Four of our dear Slytherins, among them of course Banks and Vargas, and two seventh years, don’t ask for names, went into the Enchanted Forest last night!” “No!”, Hengist exclaimed. “Yes”, Anne insisted. “Greg thinks they didn’t get as far as Hagrid’s hut, but I think they were on their way back from the Forest when Snape caught them.” Hengist and Patience started to laugh. “Greg says he bellowed the walls down in Slytherin Tower!”

“But we should have heard that, shouldn’t we?”, Patience giggled. “No. He waited until they were in the Slytherin Common Room again until he scolded them.” “I don’t understand why Snape got that angry”, Patience mused. Hengist snorted. “Does that man need an excuse to be especially nasty?” “No, not with us. But it were Slytherins, Hengist!” Patience rubbed her nose thoughtfully. “Anne, was there a thunderstorm tonight?”, she suddenly asked. Anne shook her head, surprised to be asked such a question. “You haven’t been awake then?” “No! Have you, Patience?”

Patience nodded. “And there was a green light outside. I remember now that it resembled a skull. I thought I had dreamed that because it vanished a second after I saw it, and it was so dark outside and I had slept so deeply…” “A green skull?”, Anne asked, going pale. Hengist swallowed hard. “You-Know-Who’s sign”, he whispered. Patience nodded. “That would explain why Snape got so angry, wouldn’t it?”, she asked. Her friends agreed at once. Without talking about it further, not one of them spoke about the green skull anymore. They were too frightened.

And Pall Thee in the Dullest Smoke of Hell

There is nothing as exciting as divining the future - that is, if you don’t have the bad luck to have Sybil Trelawney as your teacher. Patience was not really looking forward to doing Divination that day. Flying before being dragged to the smoke-filled room helped to clear her head, though, and so she was at least not in a towering temper when she arrived in the Divination classroom.

”Open a window - please,” she whispered to Mike who sat next to the window. Mike grinned and had just raised his hand when Trelawney appeared next to him. ”No, Mr Flatley, the window must stay closed,” she said. ”Why?” Mike asked. Trelawney gave him a mysterious smile. ”You shall see.” She swept to the front of the room and sank into the armchair next to her crystal ball.

”We will start with Capnomancy today - the art of divining the future in smoke.” ”Yes, the ruins of my future are smoking - I can see them,” Hengist joked. Patience faked a coughing attack to hide her laughter. ”Open your books on page 415, and read the chapter on Capnomancy first. Then close your eyes and just breathe deeply,” Trelawney ordered.

The chapter on Capnomancy was very short: it contained only one paragraph. Patience read it and re-read it. It was unbelievable.

Capnomancy, the art of divining the future out of smoke rising from any source of fire, be it candle, be it open fire, be it a chimney. The way the smoke moves shows you certain images. For the images, we can give no explanation at all - it wholly depends on the question in your mind and the clearness of your Inner Eye. Watch the smoke and see your future as plain as sunlight bursting through fog.

”Are they doing an advertisement for their art or what?” Patience asked Hengist who shrugged. ”I don’t care. Wake me up when we shall open our eyes again.” And sure enough, he closed his eyes and fell asleep. Patience smiled fondly and also closed her eyes. The warmth of the room was making her drowsy, but Trelawney called for attention much too soon. ”Look at the smoke,” she ordered. Patience did, nudging Hengist at the same time - and glad she had woken her friend.

In the middle of the room, a huge fire was hovering in mid-air, and smoke was billowing up from it. There in the smoke, plain to see, was the shape of a hooded figure advancing on a cowering smaller person. ”Hengist, do you see that?” Patience asked horrified. ”Yes. There’s an eagle flying over a bunch of mountains,” Hengist said and scribbled it down. ”But I can’t see what that’s got to do with my future.” Patience stared at him. ”What?” she asked perplexed. ”An eagle, dear,” Hengist repeated. Patience shook her head. ”No. There’s been a hooded man threatening another person,” she said firmly. She wrote it down and stared at her own words.

”Maybe I should ask Professor Brewster-brown for some extra lessons in Defence Against the Dark Arts?” she asked Hengist musingly. ”No. But you should check a psychiatrist. I guess your subconscious replayed the scene when Preston advanced on you and Anne - that’s something to frighten you for some time,” Hengist sensibly answered. Patience nodded. ”You’re most probably right.”

”Please concentrate again,” Trelawney told the class, ”and this time think of a question you want to get answered.” So the class sank back into their silent drowsiness, enhanced by the smoke of the usual fire and by the lack of oxygen thanks to the additional fire lit in the middle of the room. Everyone thought of questions he or she needed an answer to.

”Wow - we’ll win the Quidditch Cup,” breathed Mike and wrote his answer down. Patience squinted at the smoke, not certain if she wanted to look at it again. But what she saw was not remotely frightening: there was a small figure catching something, and someone else coming towards it. Then someone slammed his book shut, and the smoke moved. And the scene became threatening for Patience. Again the hooded figure was advancing on another person, but the person clutched something in its hands this time. Patience shuddered, but wrote down what she had seen.

Hengist looked at her parchment. ”Oh, Patience. Maybe you had better talk to someone about this,” he advised. Patience frowned. ”Maybe I should,” she agreed. Next to them Mike cursed audibly. ”Now we lost the Cup again - who slammed his book? I’ll jinx that idiot!”

Patience climbed down the ladder thoughtfully. There were no lessons anymore, and ordinarily she would have accompanied Hengist and the other Gryffindors to the Common Room. But today she resolved to go and meet someone else. ”Hengist, tell Anne I’m coming a bit later. I’ve got to talk to someone, as you said,” she smiled apologetically. Hengist looked at her with deep concern. ”Shall I come with you?” he offered. ”No,” Patience quickly said. ”No, thank you. I’ll go alone.” She gave him a smile and went off quickly. Hengist sighed. Sometimes it was not easy being her friend.

Patience knew whom she wanted to talk to, and so she went straight to the small office Brewster-brown called his own. She knocked, and the professor called her in. He was not alone, however. Professor Snape was there, looking at a parchment. ”Miss Wood. What do you want here?” Snape asked before Brewster-brown had had the chance of greeting his unexpected visitor. ”Now, now, Professor Snape, don’t be so rude,” Brewster-brown chid him cheerfully. ”Miss Patience, how can I help you?” Patience blushed. ”I… I wanted to talk to you… alone,” she stammered. Snape’s lips curled. ”Of course, Miss Wood,” he said coldly and left, not without turning to Brewster-brown before he closed the door: ”You should beware of her, Brewster-brown. She has been known to tell the most outrageous stories to some colleagues.” ”Like the tale of Professor Preston the Death Eater?” Brewster-brown innocently asked. Snape closed the door with a snap.

”Come, sit down, Miss Patience. What is it that concerns you?” Brewster-brown ushered Patience to a chintzy armchair and himself sat down on the edge of his desk. ”I have just been to Divination, sir, and I… I saw something that… frightened me,” Patience reported hesitantly. She felt abysmally stupid telling this to Brewster-brown who had so openly demonstrated his disbelief in Divination.

”You do Divination? Interesting,” the professor stated. ”Yes. Very interesting. Will you tell me what frightened you?” He spoke so kindly that Patience felt she could trust him. ”I saw a hooded figure, threatening someone who was cowering at first, and the next time I saw the cowering figure holding something in its hands that the hooded figure wanted - desperately wanted,” Patience explained and looked up at Brewster-brown with startlingly clear blue eyes. The professor noted it with amusement. That nobody had thought of that - the most obvious sign for a Moon Child. But well, it was Dumbledore’s wish to keep it a secret.

”Couldn’t it have been a memory?” Brewster-brown asked. Patience shrugged. ”Of course it could, considering Preston,” she replied honestly. ”But I don’t believe it!” ”What did your friends see?” the professor enquired. Patience smiled. ”Hengist saw an eagle flying over mountains, and Mike saw Gryffindor win and lose the Quidditch Cup,” she reported. Brewster-brown laughed. ”Oh, what a plain prediction - Miss Patience, I am sure that your prediction was a mixture of what you experienced with Preston and what you fear to come. But it is good you came to me. Shall I tell you how to keep away these scenes at least from your dreams?”

Patience’s eyes lit up. ”Can you do that?” she eagerly asked - a proof that she had had nightmares before. ”You can do it - I can only show you how,” Brewster-brown pointed out. ”Do you have much homework?” he then asked. Patience swallowed. She had an essay to finish for Emerson Dicket, and the new charm to practise for Flitwick, but… ”No,” she said firmly. ”Fine. What about meting after dinner, then? We need time, and you need something to eat, I dare say,” the professor smiled. ”Yes, of course,” Patience agreed. ”Then I’ll see you at 7 here in my office,” Brewster-brown concluded. ”Thank you, sir,” Patience warmly said and left.

She almost skipped on her way back to Gryffindor Tower. No more nightmares!

Anne had extracted the promise from her friend to be told how to fend off nightmares. Patience had of course promised to teach her friends once Brewster-brown had showed her how to do it. When she came into the professor’s office, he had been waiting for her. ”Welcome. Now, do sit down and relax,” he ordered. Patience did as she was told. ”What do you think about before you fall asleep?” Brewster-brown enquired. Patience blushed promptly. ”Er… My day. And the next day, too,” she answered highly embarrassed.

Brewster-brown nodded. ”So do most of us. But if you want to sleep soundly, try to clear your mind. Concentrate on your breathing, just listen to that, and feel your thoughts slip away. Try now,” he said.

Patience closed her eyes and concentrated on her breath. But thoughts kept popping up, the foremost being ‘I’m stupid doing this’. Brewster-brown grinned. ”You’re not stupid,” he said. Patience’s eyes flew open again. ”How did you know I was thinking that?” she asked perplexed. ”That’s part of my job,” he shrugged. ”It was obvious - your lips curled,” he then offered an explanation, seeing Patience was suspicious. That seemed to convince her. ”Try again,” the professor suggested.

Patience did, and this time she managed to hear only her breath. It was very soothing, and soon her heartbeat joined the rhythm of her breath. ”Miss Patience? That was very good.” Brewster-brown’s voice roused her from her literally thoughtless minutes. ”Very good. If you do that every night before falling asleep, you will not have as many nightmares as you’d have had otherwise.”

”So - I’ll still have nightmares?” Patience was deeply disappointed. Brewster-brown smiled apologetically. ”I’m afraid so, Miss Patience. But you’ll have less nightmares. That’s a good bargain, isn’t it?” Patience smiled at him. ”It is. Thank you, indeed.” Brewster-brown gave an odd little bow. ”You’re welcome, Miss Patience.”

The Milk of Frigg

The sun was shining Hengist, Patience and Anne lay flat on the ground touching every blade of grass. “I don’t think there will be a single one left if generations of students picked out the four-leaved ones.” Anne said. “No, I think there are always some four-leaved ones.” Patience said dreamily. “Don’t you know that it is the DNA that causes the shamrock to have four leaves and not any wish of students – leave alone one of their teachers.” Anne lectured. “What is DNA?” Patience wanted to know. “Deoxyribonucleic acid.” She replied. “Oh, thanks, I’m glad to know that.” “It’s your genes.” Hengist helped. “Jeans? What have my jeans to do with four-leaved shamrocks?” Patience asked.

“Not jeans, genes, the inner of your cells. They contain the information of how you have to be built.” Anne explained. Patience frowned. “Any being in this world starts out as one cell. In some cases, another cell is needed to produce life in others it isn’t. The mother cell which is created contains a plan for a being. It produces more cells according to this and after some time you have a perfect being.” Patience thought about this for a moment. “Let me guess what you did during your summer holiday.” She finally said. Anne lay down on her back. “Well, could have been much worse than that, don’t you think so?”

“Had I known we need 20 shamrocks each, I would have gathered them during the holiday.” Hengist sighed. “That wouldn’t have helped. We need fresh shamrocks for the potion.” Patience reminded him. “I only know that Anne will fail her first potion this term if she doesn’t go on picking four-leaved shamrocks.” “Well, you can stop for you don’t need the potion of foresight.” “I don’t know what it is supposed to be good for anyway. If you won’t to know the future you can go and read your tealeaves or have a look in your crystal ball.” Hengist remarked. “It’s for people like Anne who don’t know a thing about crystal balls and tea leaves.” Patience teased her friend. “It’s ridiculous. Nothing of that works anyway. It’s a waste of time.” Anne snapped. She got up and left her friends.

“What’s wrong with her?” Hengist asked concerned. Patience shrugged. “Do you think I teased her too much?” Hengist shook his head. “She knew you were not serious. I think she’s angry because so far we haven’t found a single four-leaved shamrock.” Patience nodded. “I’d rather watch the quidditch practice.” Patience sighed. “Maybe Anne’s gone to watch that!” Hengist said turning to see where she has gone. “She’s gone. I’m just glad I don’t have to practice today.” He observed and turned back again. “I don’t think she will.” Patience thought aloud. “What do you think she’s doing?” “She went to kill Snape.” Patience decided. “Great.” Hengist said turning around again. “Then I won’t have to gather more shamrocks.” Patience turned as well. “But what if I’m wrong?” “Then Snape will kill us.” Hengist sighed. They had their eyes closed.

“Why should he?” Anne’s voice could be heard. Hengist was the first to open his eyes. “Well, maybe he won’t after all.” Patience opened her eyes as well. The first thing she saw were 60 four-leaved shamrocks. “Where sis you find those?” She wanted to know. “Sorry, that’s a secret.” She replied. “Who cares!” Hengist said. “…if some of these are for us.” He added. “What did you think?” Anne replied. “Then we can go and watch the quidditch practice after all!” Patience said happily holding her share of the shamrocks in her hand. “Yes.” Hengist agreed. “I’ll take my shamrocks to Gryffindor first.” Anne decided and left them one more time while Patience and Hengist ran up to the Quidditch Pitch. “That’s not the Gryffindor team.” Patience exclaimed. “Obviously not. They play much worse than we do.” Hengist added.

“Look, Ramon.” Banks pointed at Patience and Hengist. Ramon turned. “Well, giving them a little surprise that amateurish Gryffindor isn’t playing.” He said satisfied. “They even brought some flowers.” Cook observed. Vargas leaned forward. “Those are no flowers. They have brought their shamrocks along.” “Where did they find them?” Banks wanted to know. “How should I know?” Vargas turned towards him. “We could ask them.” Cook suggested. The other two didn’t even bother to tell him off. “Maybe we should go and gather some for ourselves.” Banks whispered as thoughtfully as possible. “That won’t be necessary any longer for these two have done our job.” Vargas replied.

“That’s not fair, they always take the pitch from us.” Patience complained. Hengist shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do.” “Let’s go and join Anne.” He ordered. Vargas followed them with his gaze. “We must follow them.” Banks urged him. “No.” Vargas held him back. “We will go and get it at night.” He decided. “But I’ve a date tonight.” Cook protested. Both guys turned towards him. “With who?” Banks asked. “Doesn’t matter, we won’t do it tonight. We’ll do it tomorrow night.” He stopped them. “Why tomorrow?” Banks wanted to know. “Because the day after tomorrow we will need the shamrocks and our dear friends won’t be able to replace them.” He explained.

The days passed and night fell. “Would you keep quiet now.” Vargas hissed as his two companions seemed to get more and more lost in a private conversation. “I only asked him…” Banks replied in his normal voice. Vargas stopped and turned. “I don’t care what you were talking about just keep quiet.” He turned back. “I really don’t know why I still take you out on night-time strolls.” He whispered more to himself than his mates. They stopped in front of Gryffindor. They had found out the secret password and so it was no major problem to get inside. The fire had already gone out and the only light was provided by the ends of their wands. “Over there are the girls’ dormitories.” Vargas pointed at a staircase. “We’ll get those from the mudblood first.” He decided. They sneaked into his dormitory and under his bed they found the shamrocks.

They went downstairs again. “Now, we will get the shamrocks from the Wood creature.” Vargas decided. He headed for the staircase. “No!” Cook warned him. “The staircase will turn into a slide.” Vargas frowned. “How do you know?” Banks asked stupidly. “Well, we have to get upstairs, any ideas – no, don’t bother I will come up with something.” He decided before his fellows could start something stupid again. It wasn’t that easy. After all the girls were meant to be kept safe from the boys – even Vargas had to acknowledge that this was a tough one. For a short moment he had the idea to send Roland for he was sure he was no real boy. He walked along the windows deeply lost in thought when he suddenly stopped. He left the Gryffindor common room. Banks and Cook followed him.

He headed towards the kitchen. “What are we doing?” Cook wanted to know. Vargas stopped and by that caused Banks to run into Cook who almost tumbled. “We pay a little visit to the house elves.” He told them. “Why?” Banks asked. “Because they have their own paths and ways to get to the private rooms of this castle and tonight we will be the first students to tread in their footsteps.” He explained. “Why?” Banks asked again. “Roland, shut up.” Secretly they entered the kitchen. You might not believe it but house elves really do sleep at night and so it was empty except for the food. Cook nicked a blueberry muffin and Banks filled his pockets with pickled cherries. Vargas used the time to check for the way upstairs to the Gryffindor girls’ dormitories. “Easier than I had thought.” He remarked when he found himself standing in front of a sort of tunnel that was labelled: “Girls’ Dormitories Gryffindor” Banks read. Vargas climbed into it. It was just broad enough to contain him. Carefully he made his way up – with a little help of magic. More reluctant than usual Banks and Cook followed him.

“Here, they are.” Vargas whispered. He saw Anne lying in her bed like sleeping beauty. He stepped inside the room. Nothing happened. He approached Patience’s bed carefully he opened her trunk. On top of the heap of things which were contained he saw the four-leaved shamrocks. He put them into his pocket to those which ones had belonged to Hengist. “Damn!” Banks exclaimed touching his wet trousers. Vargas shut his mouth magically – he should have thought of this before. He pointed at the red stain a little underneath his pocket. His hand glided into it and it returned filled with squashed cherries. “Idiot!” Vargas mouthed. Cook ate his muffin noisily. “We leave.” Vargas ordered. “But we haven’t got Anne’s yet. She must have some too.” Cook reminded him and approached the sleeping girl. Vargas stopped him. He grabbed his collar. “Nobody touches her. We don’t know if she has anything.” Cook shrugged and headed for the tunnel. Banks did the same, however, Vargas stopped him and went down first so that Banks’ dirty hands were the last to go down.

Safely they entered the kitchen. The house elves were still fast asleep and the treacherous trio was able to leave unnoticed. Back in their own dormitory they were quite satisfied. Vargas went to sleep with a big evil grin. Banks, however, thought he had to top this success. He sneaked over to Vargas’ trousers and took out the four-leaved shamrocks. They had intended to double them until they had reached the needed amount for three persons. Banks who had always been keen on money decided to do more than that. He doubled them until he had enough four-leaved shamrocks to provide for more than just forty bottles of the milk of Frigg. He returned forty four-leaved shamrocks to Vargas’ pocket and kept the rest. He finally fell asleep with the vision of a rich young man that by next morning would be himself.

At breakfast the sixth years were quite unhappy – all except Hengist, Patience, Anne, Vargas, Banks and Cook. Snape in contrast was extremely happy because he knew that most probably none had managed to find the 20 four-leaved shamrocks needed. He helped himself to another glass of pumpkin juice. The other students, however, were as talkative as ever and it seemed that they had taken care to raise the level of noise to its usual height by compensating for their quiet fellow students. Doom approached inevitably.

“The milk of Frigg is one of the more complicated potions. Today you will attempt to brew it, so start according to the instructions given on the blackboard.” Snape ordered and sat down at his desk. Anne put her four-leaved shamrocks on the plate to cut them. It seemed that everybody had four-leaved shamrocks except Patience and Hengist. They only noticed now. They were a little surprised that now even those students which had complained of not having a single four-leaved shamrock had 20 of them before them. Snape looked up. Of course he noticed that Patience and Hengist had no shamrocks. Happily he raised, left his desk and approached them. “Well, Miss Wood, Mr. Alret, why aren’t you two working? Let me guess, you could find no four-leaved shamrocks?” “It wasn’t like that, professor…” Hengist started. Snape turned towards him. “Well, Mr. Alret, then why don’t you tell us the true story?” Hengist felt quite uncomfortably. “Ours were stolen.” Patience explained. Snape turned back to her. “Stolen? And, Miss Wood, did you by any chance inform your house-teacher of this theft – or better the ministry?”

Patience remained quiet. She knew she and Hengist only could lose. They would fail this potion and to add a detention to this was not absolutely necessary. After a minute of triumph Snape turned towards the class. “Now before you continue, let me tell you that the work with any magically doubled four-leaved shamrocks will have no effect at all. That took out the wind of the sails of Vargas, Banks and Cook. And seeing that Banks despaired all other students put their shamrocks aside. Now only Anne was busy cutting her shamrocks. Snape posed in front of her. “Miss Symmons, you might not have paid attention to my instructions, I am used to this behaviour, however, you can spare yourself a lot of trouble if you stop now.” Anne looked up at him. “I did listen.” She continued her work. “So, you did not double your shamrocks. Then maybe you want to tell your classmates where you found so many shamrocks.” Anne looked up again. “I asked professor Sprout for them. She gave me these and also those for Patience and Hengist.” Snape was not surprised. He had thought that the Malignant Magpies might work out the solution he was the happier to see that Patience and Hengist had managed to lose theirs. “Very well, Miss Symmons, then continue brewing your potion while the others will right a fifty inch essay on the possible sources of potions’ ingredients.”

Snape occasionally commented her work, however, this time he acknowledged her ability and did neither snap nor spat and some of his remarks could have almost counted as encouraging. At the end of the lesson Anne’s cauldron was filled with a softly simmering light blue potion. Snape looked at it. “Everybody look at this potion. It is exactly what it should look like. Miss Symmons, please fill two bottles with it and label them.” Anne did as she was told. She carried the two bottles to Snape’s desk who was busy writing down the marks of the other students. “Thank you, Miss Symmons. I’ll take one bottle and you take the other. Some night you will drink this and then report next week what you have foreseen.” “I won’t drink it!” Anne informed him. “I beg your pardon?” Snape said in a surprised voice. “I won’t drink it.” She repeated slower but not less decidedly. “I’ll fail you this potion if you don’t.” He warned her. “I won’t drink it.” He put down a zero behind her name. She left his desk.

Outside of the classroom Patience started. “Why did you do that?” “No discussion.” Anne snapped and hurried away. “That’s not fair, he cannot give her a zero just for not drinking it!” Hengist remarked. “No, he can’t.” Instead of telling him themselves they headed to professor McGonagall’s office and reported to her what had happened. In the evening shortly before dinner both Snape and Anne were called to Dumbledore’s office. By accident they met on the way. “Did the little Gryffindor student have to run to the headmaster to complain about the mean potions’ teacher.” Snape spat as Anne fumed. “Did you have to get Dumbledore for help with the stubborn student who didn’t jump on your order?” They reached the office and went inside. “Miss Symmons, Severus…” The headmaster greeted them with his smoky voice. “…have a seat.” He had arranged for a table where they could all comfortably sit down.

“First of all, Miss Symmons, I want to congratulate you on solving Severus’ dearest riddle. And you, Severus, I must congratulate you on having taught her that. But that is not the reason why we are all here tonight…” “No, of course not, the little intelligent student had to complain about her mark…” “Rather the big teacher cried on the headmaster’s shoulder…” “Please, first of all let me inform you that none of you approached me for help, advice or for a shoulder to cry on. How I learned about this is not the matter of this talk either. We gathered here to solve the problem. Now Severus would you report what happened.” Anne leaned back and listened. “None of the students had been able to gather the 20 shamrocks – only Miss Symmons, so I gave the other students an essay to do while Miss Symmons brew the potion. At the end of the class I told her to fill two bottles one for me and one for her to drink so that she would be able to report to the class the week after what she had foreseen in her dreams. She refused to do that and I gave her a zero.” Anne nodded. Dumbledore turned towards her.

“Do you have anything to add?” “The shamrocks of Patience and Hengist had been stolen. The rest is true. I guess I can leave now.” She got up. “Miss Symmons, please sit down again.” Anne did as she was told. “You refused to drink the potion, Miss Symmons?” Dumbledore asked. “Yes.” Anne replied truthfully. “Why?” Anne remained quiet. “The headmaster has asked you a question.” Snape told her. She remained quiet. “You don’t want to tell us why, but then let me ask you another question. Was anything wrong – according to your knowledge – with the potion?” “No.” Dumbledore nodded. “Then there is no reason why she shouldn’t drink it!” Snape exclaimed. “Why don’t you make Mungus drink it!” Anne spat. Snape shot dark glances into her direction. “Now, please, we can solve this like civilized people. Miss Symmons, it would be much easier to take a decision when you gave us the reason why you refuse to drink it.” Again she remained quiet. “Very well.” The headmaster sighed. Snape felt close to triumphant. Dumbledore turned towards him. “I’m afraid that we cannot make her drink her own milk of Friggs. Miss Symmons, you will have a good reason for that. Severus, since we cannot ask her to drink a potion that will provide her with a knowledge we cannot take away from her again you will have to give her another mark based on the potion alone. Thank you for your attention. I think we are better off to dinner now or else the others will have eaten everything before we arrive.” Snape shot another angry glance at Anne which she returned gladly before they went downstairs to the Great Hall.

In the evening Hengist, Patience and Anne sat together by the fireside. “Why didn’t you drink that potion?” Patience asked casually. “It would have been just like looking into a crystal ball or reading in your tea leaves.” Hengist added. “I’m not looking into crystal balls and I won’t read any stupid tea leaves.” Anne snapped. “Still you could have told him you had just like we all do when Trelawney asks us about our findings.” “But I’m not you and I’m not taking your ridiculous course.” She reminded them. “You could have taught Snape a lesson drinking that potion!” Hengist sighed. “Oh yes, did you see his face when Anne continued cutting her shamrocks!” Patience added dreamily. “But this isn’t always about getting at Snape!” Anne spat, stood up and left the common room. “What’s wrong with her?” Hengist asked. Patience shrugged. “Sometimes even I don’t understand her, something different, who stole our shamrocks and how?” “Maybe the house elves threw them away.” Hengist suggested. Patience shook her head. “But how comes everybody except for us had twenty shamrocks!” “Mmh, how comes we didn’t think of doubling a four-leaved shamrock?” “Because we didn’t have any!” Patience reminded him. “Yes, just like all the others…” Hengist said thoughtfully.

“Ah, Miss Symmons, after a breath of fresh air you will sleep much better. I always take a short walk before I go to bed.” Anne didn’t reply. She leaned on a rock and watched the sun go down. “It certainly wasn’t easy to get the shamrocks from professor Sprout…” “No, definitely not, I’m not allowed to go near her greenhouses. She put a magical protection layer all around it.” “So you cannot go into the greenhouses any longer?” “Not on foot and neither on broom, maybe if I dug a tunnel. Then again, she probably bewitched some moles to stand guard.” “You don’t believe in the gift of foresight, do you Miss Symmons?” “I don’t want to discuss it again, professor.” Anne whispered. “I myself am torn. On the one hand I like to think that knowing what will happen I am better prepared to react. On the other hand knowing what will happen I might not believe that I can change the fate.” “We don’t even understand what we see.” Anne said in a tired voice. “No, we do not yet understand that and maybe we never will. You rely much on science. It’s fascinating how the passing centuries turned mythic believes into scientific facts.” “It’s fascinating how we still rely on magic.” “Point taken.” “I’ll go to sleep now, it’s late.” Anne said checking her watch. “Good night, Miss Symmons.”

“Banks has to pay for that.” Mike announced. “We’ll turn his face all pimply!” Catherine agreed. “It already is!” Brian reminded her. “We’ll make him lose all his hair!” “We better tear his ears out.” “Attach some extra legs.” Indeed, there were many suggestions as to the dealings with Banks. “why don’t we kill him and get rid of him for ever.” Patience suggested. “Why are you angry with him, you didn’t buy those shamrocks of him!” Nelly said in a surprised voice. “He annoys us all year long, not only occasionally.” Hengist reminded her. “Where did Banks get the shamrocks?” Patience asked. “He doubled them or else it would have worked.” Connor said. Patience nodded. “And ours are still gone.”

“Of course Roland, you had to earn some extra money. It doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out that we stole those damn shamrocks.” Vargas fumed and was close to throwing things at Banks. “But Ramon, how should they find out?” He defended himself. “It would definitely be no clue if all of a sudden all students that had no shamrock have one coming from you.” Cook sat close by the fire pretending he didn’t belong to these two, however, he couldn’t help asking. “What will happen now? Will they go to Dumbledore?” “Will, didn’t you see? Anne already has. We will be expelled for that or rather, Roland will.” Vargas stated. banks didn’t dare to apply his usual sentence of defence – ‘but I didn’t do anything’ – this time.

“She could at least have admitted that she was scared.” Snape said in a disappointed sort of voice. “Scared, Severus, do you really believe she is scared?” “What else?” The teacher replied. “My dear Severus, you cannot apply the same measure to Anne as to other students.” “Yes, she is definitely more insolent.” Dumbledore laughed. “Yes, that as well. Never forget, she was the one who did not look into the mirror of erised.” “Maybe she did after all and we simply don’t know.” Snape thought aloud. “Did you see a lie in her face then or today?” “No, I didn’t, but it’s not easy to see anything in her eyes.”

Necromancy Books, a Stick, and Bags of Suspicious Powders

It was one of the last sessions in demonology or rather Defence Against the Dark Arts. The professor had promised something very interesting and so the students – Slytherins and Gryffindors – waited eagerly for the lesson to begin. Professor Brewster-brown entered. Everyone stared at him. “What’s wrong. Didn’t I button my shirt correctly. Do I wear two different colours of socks?” He asked. “Oh professor, you did not forget, did you?” Jack asked. “Did I forget what?” Brewster-brown wanted to know. “You wanted to tell us something very fascinating.” One of the Slytherins threw in. “Did I really?” And just as the sigh went through the classroom his lips turned into a bright smile. “Got you, of course I did not forget!” A sigh of relief and a little bit of laughter could be heard.

“What is it that you will tell us today?” Ghewyn asked eagerly. “Today you will learn about necromancy!” He started. Whispers could be heard. “Who can tell me what necromancy is? Yes, Mr. Vargas.” “Necromancy is a special mode of divination by the evocation of the dead.” He explained. “Very true. It is derived from Greek nekros, “dead” and manteia, “divination”, however, you can also apply another meaning to it. Any ideas?” The class stayed silent. “Let me enlighten you. Pronounced as nigromancy it can refer to black or dark magic. You might or rather should use this as a reminder that you are not to do neither necro- nor nigromancy.”

After a short pause he continued. “The first condition for necromancy is the belief in a survival of the soul after the bodily death. And though there have been some reports on necromancy not everyone is prepared to believe in it. The second condition is that you assume that this soul has a superior knowledge to your own or else there would be nothing worth asking…” The class laughed. “…Lastly you have to be convinced of the possibility of the communication between the living and the dead. Are you prepared to fulfil all these?” He asked and looked around. The students nodded.

“Unfortunately this is not everything which is required. The method of calling, or awakening the dead if you prefer that terminology, is still missing. There are no basic techniques and a person has to count very much on her or his own abilities to contact the dead. What do you think is involved – generally?” “Blood!” “Bones!” “Cemetery!” The students shouted. The professor nodded. “Yes, however, almost any part or product of an animal or even a human can be used. You must know that the rites differ from country to country and especially from belief to belief. And in some parts of the world humans are not too keen on any further contact with the dead and do everything to avoid or rather keep them from returning in any way – they would definitely not be happy with the ghosts who live at Hogwarts.” He smiled.

“You cannot easily distinguish between evil spirits and the dead and that is where this subject comes in. Has anyone heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy? Yes, Mr. Gordon.” “It’s a prophecy which will come true just because it has been made.” “Yes, we can shed more light on it by an example. The evil spirit who turned up when you called the dead tells you you will fail this term’s exam in Defence Against the Dark Arts. You are so much aroused by that – and besides the dread you already felt because one of the nastiest teachers is conducting it – you are psychologically, spiritually, mentally and physically ready to break down. Your mind goes blank and you fail the exam – mind you such a prophecy is no excuse for failing my exam.” The students laughed.

“Now this was a pretty harmless example, though it might look bad and scaring to you. Imagine what this spirit can tell you, in which situations and problems it can talk you into. Any examples you can think of?” “Committing a crime.” “Yes, Miss Wood.” “Suicide.” “Yes, Miss Symmons, even that. So you might realize how dangerous it is to mess with things you cannot control. The best way to protect you from these is – obviously – to stay away from these things, however, what can you do if such an evil spirit is awakened?” “Garlic?” “No, Mr. Alret, that doesn’t even help against vampires, however, there are a couple of spells you should know and learn…”

“That was very interesting today.” Patience observed in the evening in the common room. Hengist looked around. “Where’s Anne?” Patience shrugged. “Probably out to awakening the dead.” She said mysteriously. “Don’t make fun of that.” Hengist whispered uneasily. “No, I think she has decided to play one last trick on Vargas before the break and for that purpose she went spying.” “Why today?” “She heard rumours that something was going on.” “Where does she get those information I never heard a word about it.” Hengist revealed. “Neither did I, but you know that she must have some secret sources, personally I think she has a spy in Slytherin.” Patience replied. “Who would that be? Banks?” “He would be stupid enough to tell her, but he would be stupid enough to tell Vargas as well, so, no.”

In the meantime Anne had hid behind a statue. Some of the Slytherins, namely Vargas, Banks, Cook, Nott and Gordon headed for one of the darker corridors in the castle. It was not yet past bedtime and so they could walk about the castle quite freely. For Anne, in contrast, it was not quite so easy. When they finally entered a corridor Anne had never even been close to they stopped and settled down. “What will we do until midnight?” Cook asked. “We could play exploding snap!” Banks suggested. ‘Midnight?!’ Anne thought to herself. It hadn’t even yet turned ten p.m. and they wanted to wait until midnight. “Shut up, you will not play exploding snap why don’t you go and tell all the teachers and Filch that we are hiding here.” Vargas snapped.

Anne had two possibilities either she waited with them or she went back to the common room and returned in time for midnight. “This place is perfect.” Nott decided. “It’s quiet and dark and we have the window that we will need. We will definitely do it here.” He decided and this helped Anne to make up her mind. She went back to the common room. On her way back she met professor Brewster-brown. “Miss Symmons, quite a late hour to stroll around the castle.” He observed checking his watch. Anne nodded. “I’m just on the way back to the common room.” She explained. “Way back from where?” Brewster-brown asked. “I did not know that there was anything in that direction of the castle.” He had never witnessed any student coming that way and in fact, not even a teacher had ever taken that path. Anne blushed a little. “Well, there isn’t anything really.” She replied with hesitation. Brewster-brown mistook the blushing. “I see, I guess we all must have our little secrets.” He winked at her.

“Don’t you know what time it is?” Filch asked angrily. “Oh, Mr. Filch, this has been my fault, I kept the young lady from going back to her common room by involving her in a useless conversation, but now that I have found myself a new victim I am prepared to let her fare away. Good night, Miss Symmons. Why don’t we have a nice beer in the Great Hall there is something I had always wanted to discuss with you.” The two disappeared and Anne hurried back to the common room. “Where have you been?” Patience asked. “I met professor Brewster-brown.” She reported. “On purpose?” Hengist asked. “No, by accident on my way back. He saved me from Filch and probably another detention.”

“What did you find out about the Slytherins?” Patience added. Anne shrugged. “They’re in hiding. They plan to do something around midnight.” “What?” Hengist wanted to know. Anne shrugged again. “They did not say. Only they need a window for it.” Anne looked outside. “Why should they go in hiding, they have windows in their common room – I guess.” Hengist threw in. “Probably it is something the others are not supposed to see – would you trust a fellow Slytherin?” Patience reminded him. Hengist scratched his head before shaking it. “Well, we won’t find out anyway.” He decided and leaned back. “I will definitely go back!” Anne stated. Patience nodded. “Tonight is full moon and I won’t get a wink of sleep and if I did I only had nightmares. I’m with you Anne.” Hengist wasn’t sure if he should join them. It meant to be out after hours and a detention so little time before the exams wasn’t something to be desired. However, he felt the need to protect his two friends. “I’ll join in as well.”

Some time later they were on their way to the corridor in which the Slytherins were hiding. “Look, Nott can read.” Patience observed. “Who would have thought that.” Anne replied while Hengist urged them to be quiet. “We divided my grandpa up. Each of us carries around a bit of him.” On this Hengist almost choked. The girls were sure that they had misunderstood, misheard or anything like that. “My dad told me to be prepared for this day.” Nott went on. There were now several books spread on the floor and Patience could feel the influence of the full moon. It made her shiver. “But which is the right method?” Banks wanted to know. “Didn’t you listen?” Vargas snapped. “There is no right method. We will have to try and see.” “No…” Nott interrupted pathetically. “…we will have to try and hear!” This was true, none of the books promised to be able to make anybody dead visible and considering that Nott’s grandpa had been dead for some thirty years this was the best one could hope for.

“Do we have all ingredients?” Nott asked in a whisper. A mysterious air spread in the castle. There were several little bags, jugs and boxes. Nott took one after the other. Among the ingredients were dried leaves, parts of animals – dried and fresh – and several rather mysterious and dubious looking powders. In the end Nott cut himself and took a stick. He pushed it deep into the heap of the ingredients. His blood ran down the piece of wood and just when it was about to mingle with the ingredients Vargas opened the window. Now a beam of pale moonlight added itself to the mixture and Nott began to speak in a clear voice. “Mortuus existimatus loqui!” As if hypnotised Hengist repeated these words.

A flash of lights blinding to the eye, thunder causing an earthquake and all of a sudden everything went black. “So you did call me after all. Let me see, blood of my blood and ash from my ash, who are you to call me?” “Begging your pardon sir, I did not call you.” Hengist replied, shivering. “What?” The voice thundered. “Did you not spread my ashes, did you not give your blood, did you not utter the spell?” Hengist thought about this for a moment before he came up with – what he thought to be – an appropriate answer. “No, no, yes.” “What?” The voice got very angry. Hengist almost went deaf. “I just said the spell – whispered, really…” “Then who gave his blood and had my ashes?” The voice inquired. “Greg Nott.” Hengist replied truthfully. “Greg Nott.” The voice repeated thoughtfully. “And did he not know the spell?” Hengist nodded vigorously and then realizing that this voice might not be able to see he added: “I only repeated it. I wouldn’t have known it if he hadn’t said it.” “So who are you?” The voice asked again. “My name is Hengist and you must be Greg’s grandfather…” “My name is Septimus Nott.” The earth shivered hearing this name again by its bearer. “Hengist, I shall remember your name.” And that was the last thing Hengist ever heard from Greg’s grandpa.

“Move!” Anne pushed Hengist softly. “Do you think he has fallen asleep?” Patience asked trying to drag him. “What are you doing?” Hengist said freeing himself. “Well, we wanted to go back to the dormitory…” “…and since we are such nice fellows we intended to take you with us.” “But, didn’t you hear the voice?” Hengist asked. “What voice?” Anne wanted to know. “The voice that just talked.” Hengist explained. “There was no voice – except if you’re talking about Nott who was cursing terribly because he could not make his grandpa return…” “But he did…he was here, he talked to me.” Hengist assured them. “That’s not funny, Patience is the one to have weird dreams in full moon nights.” Anne reminded him. “This is no joke. His name is Septimus Nott.”

The two stared at Hengist. None of them had ever cared about the first name of Greg’s grandfather. “There’s only one way to find out…” Patience started and they headed to the restricted section of the library. Anne was turned into a monkey and passed through the bars of the door unnoticed. She went to the respective shelf and collected the Who is Who. She returned after two minutes. “Dash it Patience, he’s right.” Patience took a deep breath and turned towards Hengist who did not feel quite as comfortable as he would have in his own bed.

When Anne was turned into a human being again they returned to their dormitory. Their was no way to think about this matter any further in that night. All slept little and their dreams were the weirdest you could imagine. One thing, however, they all had in common: they involved dead people. The fifth year put it down to too much necromancy in their Defence Against the Dark Arts class and in fact so did Mortimer Brewster-brown. Our three friends credited this two the last night’s events and so did Jack, Greg, Ramon, Sebastian and Roland. The matter would have entered oblivion if not Hengist had insisted that he had heard the voice of Greg’s grandfather.

“I say we go and ask professor Brewster-brown.” Anne suggested. “Anne, we cannot go to a teacher, we were out of bed after curfew.” Patience reminded her friend. “You don’t think that a couple of points taken from Gryffindor matter in this case…” But Patience thought that it did matter. And Hengist thought that if not points mattered then the detention definitely would. “I’m not suggesting to ask Snape for help!” Anne threw in. “He’s a teacher, Anne, he has to do this. It’s not personal grudge but the fact that any teacher who notices an offence against the school rules must take the appropriate steps.” Patience lectured.

“He did let me get away with my stroll!” Anne reminded them. “You were almost in time and on your way back to Gryffindor. What do you think will he do if he finds out that after that you went out again? Having just informed your accomplices?” “Now wait a minute, I did not ask you to…” “Girls, relax. Facts are he saw you Anne, right?” Anne nodded. Hengist turned towards Patience. “Then she can go to him and tell him what she has seen and ask if it might have been a trial to contact the dead!” Patience thought about this for a moment. Anne was all for it. They finally agreed on this.

Anne knocked on the door. “Come in!” Anne pushed down the handle and entered closely followed by her two friends. “Oh, all three of you. A question concerning the exams, I guess.” He tried. “No, actually, I wanted to thank you for your covering up for me.” Anne started. “You’re welcome. But…that certainly is not all…take a seat.” He pointed at his single chair and made three out of it. The students sat down. “I met other students on my way…before I met you and I think…or no…I wanted to ask if they might have been out to…to contact the dead.” Professor Brewster-brown laughed. “So, I’m not the only one whom this topic has given nightmares…I had such a bad night…I think all my dead relatives visited me or should I say haunted…I think you had an overdose of necromancy.” He was shaking his head heavily. “That’s interesting, we dreamed of dead people as well.” Patience told him.

Professor Brewster-brown frowned. “And do you know of anybody else who dreamed of dead people?” He asked carefully. “Actually none of the Gryffindors looked as if they had had enjoyable dreams.” Hengist said thoughtfully. “Well, then I think I shouldn’t have told you about necromancy. You must excuse me now, I have an appointment with the headmaster.” Professor Brewster-brown left his office. “What was that?” Hengist asked. “I’m not sure, however, Hengist, I’m sure you did hear Septimus Nott’s voice last night.” Patience replied. “And I think we better get ourselves out of here as fast as possible.” Anne suggested.

“Where are we going?” Hengist asked after a couple of minutes of running. “Dumbledore’s office.” Patience replied. What follows might not be a fact widely known but among the secret corridors there is one leading to a secret door which was the passage to the upper part of Dumbledore’s office. The Malignant Magpies were not frequently spying on the headmaster, however, this time it seemed appropriate. They sneaked into the office and since they had hurried so much they arrived at the moment when Dumbledore said: “Come in!” They laid flat on the ground being able to catch every single word without being caught themselves.

“Ah, Mortimer, what can I do for you? Take a chair but don’t keep it.” Dumbledore joked. “Professor, I fear I made one or several students contact the dead.” He said directly. Dumbledore looked at him for a while without saying anything. He himself had had a dream involving the dead. And a very unnerving aunt, Agatha by name, had visited him and given him a lecture on proper conduct and important things like that. “You made them contact the dead? Did you force them to?” Dumbledore asked. “No, of course not. However, I gave a lecture on necromancy and I fear I inspired some students to try out.” Dumbledore nodded. “Which students?” Brewster-brown shrugged. “Miss Symmons reported on dubious action and providing that we all dreamed of dead people last night…” Dumbledore nodded again.

“What is to be done?” Dumbledore asked. “We can hope that they all went back to where they came from…” “Hope is a good thing but not if you have a school packed with dead people hoping to be contacted.” Dear reader, you must understand that the dead unless they decided to remain on earth as ghosts from time to time get very bored and tired of their new life and if they get the chance to enter the world of the living again they will take it and obviously it is not that easy to get rid of them again. But better listen to professor Brewster-brown, for he is the expert on this topic.

“I did not even think it possible that a student should be able to contact them.” Brewster-brown sighed. He scratched his head. “A call was sent out and the dead are answering it. They’re all coming here looking for their relatives, friends whatever. They must be sent back. But that can only be done by the person who called them or one of them. We need the person who spoke to a dead while being awake.” Brewster-brown concluded.

“That would be you!” Anne whispered into Hengist’s direction. “You can forget that I’m not going to talk to any dead again!” He insisted. “Shh!” Patience said as she thought the conversation below would continue. “I’m sure young Miss Anne will help us.” “Miss Anne…” Dumbledore repeated the teacher’s terminology. “…was out on the corridors last night, wasn’t she?” “Yes, we met and I pulled her into a conversation and she…” “…missed curfew, yes, professor Snape has told me so. However, he doubts that you were talking so agitatedly to miss the late hour.” Dumbledore tried. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible either.” Brewster-brown said no more concerning this topic.

Anne smiled. He was really taking her side – even at a moment when it had become dangerous for him. The headmaster did not appreciate any sort of lies but either Brewster-brown was especially good at it or he got the benefit of the doubt. “Then we will have to talk to the young lady to find out who was out to find the dead yesterday.” Dumbledore concluded and got up. He checked his watch. “She will be in her common room I presume.” As soon as they had left the three students jumped up and ran towards their common room. However, this time Dumbledore and the teacher had been there before.

“Ah, there you are, still striving the corridors in search of something new? Or was it to research something old?” Dumbledore started. Somehow the three felt guilty. “Miss Anne you told me that you have seen some people – we need their names because only the person who talked to the dead is able to sent them away again.” Brewster-brown explained. Anne hesitated. He smiled at her. “He or she will have to face the consequences…it was very dangerous.” “But the person who talked to the dead was not involved in the actual awakening, I mean the person hadn’t intended to do it. Why don’t you say something!” Anne had turned towards her friends. Hengist stepped forward. “I witnessed how some students did something – I did not know what – one of them spoke a line or two which I – unconsciously – repeated. As a consequence of that – maybe – a dead person spoke to me.”

Brewster-brown nodded. He had no reason to doubt them. But Dumbledore felt that the things might have happened differently. “Wasn’t it you who tried to contact the dead?” “Why would we?” Patience wanted to know. “Maybe just out of curiosity…” “Are you implying that we are lying?” Anne said. She looked rather angry. “We’re not…” “Miss Anne, please. I know you’re not lying.” He turned towards the headmaster. “Professor, there is no reason for them to lie. They’ve confessed everything. They were out of bed after hour.” “I consider it a much graver deed to awaken the dead…” “We will see who did that for the dead person to come must be a close relative. And I will not have another word about lies until it is proven.” Brewster-brown could be firm if he wanted to. It is true that this didn’t happen too often, however, the mouse could turn into a lion whenever he thought someone innocent to be accused.

“Where did you meet the dead person?” The teacher asked when they – the Malignant Magpies and him – had returned to his office. “I…I don’t know.” Hengist said truthfully. Anne had dragged the other two to that place. “It was in the west wing – uppermost floor the left-hand corridor. The others stood underneath a window and we were hiding behind one of the statues.” Anne reported. Brewster-brown nodded. “A window, of course, that’s why they are in the castle.” He said more to himself than to the students. “Was it midnight?” The three nodded. “Very good. Then tonight at midnight we will go there and try to get rid of the dead again.”

“But last night was full moon.” Patience threw in. “Don’t you think it possible that – maybe – this is only possible in those nights?” Brewster-brown smiled. “If there is one thing I learned in the course of my life than it is that anything we can imagine is possible. So let’s just belief that we can send them back to where they belong. And if it doesn’t work – well, there will always be another full moon next month.” He said encouragingly. After some more talking they departed with the promise to meet again that night an hour before midnight.

“I’m not going.” Hengist stated. “Of course you will.” Patience said. “I will not tell them to leave!” He insisted. “You don’t have to play boss. You can ask them to leave.” Anne suggested. “Very funny and what if they refuse?” “You’re not alone, Hengist.” Patience reminded him. “Oh great, then the four of us will get slaughtered. Please make a note for my tombstone: He was killed cruelly, but, hey, at least he didn’t die alone.” At eleven Professor Brewster-brown knocked on the door of the Gryffindor common room. “Are you ready?” He asked when Anne had opened the door. She sighed. “Hengist is quite scared.” She explained. Brewster-brown nodded. “Who wouldn’t be.” He replied. “Why don’t you come in!” Anne said after a short pause. “Maybe you can convince him to come along.”

“Mister Hengist I can understand that you don’t want to go. Those dead people must be scary – I mean, I’ve only seen them in my dreams but you faced a real one.” Hengist nodded. “I cannot be absolutely sure that they are no danger for the living, however, I’ve come across no incidents in which someone dead did physical harm to someone who was still alive – or in fact, someone who was dead. I have spent the rest of the day checking charms, spells and curses to repel anything or anyone who intends to hurt either of you. I cannot offer you more. I cannot persuade you to go with us but I can beg you to come. We need you or otherwise this school will be haunted for ever.” These words didn’t make Hengist very happy. He knew what he had to do. He sighed. “Okay.”

Five minutes passed and they were on their way to the dark corridor. “I wish I could be asleep now.” Hengist whispered feeling a corpse or a soul behind each statue and pillar. “Be happy that you are awake or else you would dream of dead people!” Anne reminded him. He gave her a dark look. Brewster-brown grinned. Patience soothed Hengist while Brewster-brown and Anne followed them. “So, what did you dream last night.” The teacher asked. “I dreamed of a man called Grindelwald. He was my grandfather. He looked…” She swallowed. “…horrible. All limbs were torn from his body and I could hardly make out his face. He had scarves on what was left of his body – well, he carried all of it around…sorry, you certainly did not want to hear that.”

“Surely I did, or else I wouldn’t have asked. Did he talk to you?” “Yes, he did indeed, he told me that I had to kill a certain Buzz. I don’t even know that person. Well, it must be a very cruel person judging from the appearance of my grandfather – if it was my grandfather at all – actually I’d rather not think about it.” Brewster-brown nodded. Of course he knew the story of Grindelwald and the wizard who had killed him, though he had not been born back then he had been told. He had always thought that everybody knew. He could hardly believe that ‘young Miss Anne’ was the granddaughter of this dangerous wizard. He knew she didn’t have bad blood in her – he just knew, the way he had known that the three students hadn’t been lying.

When they reached the corridor the light of the moon shown through the still open window. The teacher saw the rests of the powder and the stick. They waited there for some time until Hengist started shivering. “Is he back?” The teacher asked. Patience and Anne gasped. “No, it’s just horribly cold in here.” Hengist replied. Everybody was relieved. Brewster-brown wrapped him in his jacket. “I hope the young ladies won’t get cold, there’s not much left I can dispose of.” He joked. The girls laughed.

“There you are again. Hengist you are?” “Yes.” Hengist replied and only by doing so the others noticed that the dead person must be back. Brewster-brown put his hands on Hengist’s shoulders. Hengist was thankful for it. “What is it?” Septimus Nott asked. “I want you to leave, all of you.” Hengist said in a steady voice. Patience and Anne were proud of him. Septimus Nott looked at the boy. He floated away. He could not stay longer that was the law when he was asked to go back he had to leave. And so had all the other ghosts. One by one floated out of the window. When all of them had gone Brewster-brown closed the window and gathered the stick and powder.

None of the students had to face consequences – at least none the Malignant Magpies knew of. But this might have been due to the fact that Greg’s mother died on the next day. He was sent home and did not return that term. Brewster-brown held his last lessons and the students knew he was not to return the following year. “If there is anything I would want you to have learned than it is that you are careful. Many dangers lurk in the dark practices and they will turn against its conductor.” He gave them one last smile and then they were not to see him again.

Hot Spur Weasley

“He’s driving me crazy, honestly, no one can be like that!” Oliver complained entering Gryffindor common room. Patience took a deep breath. “All right, who and what?” She asked being not really interested. “Percy Weasley told me off for – well, that doesn’t matter.” Oliver reported. “Did little Verres do something illegal? Like not chewing his meal fifty times before swallowing it.” Anne joked. “That boy’s fanatic, Anne.” Oliver exclaimed. “Relax, Verres. He is only human like you and me.” Patience tried to calm her brother down. “That Weasley is not.” Oliver protested. “Maybe he is a little over-eager.” Patience admitted. “Patience, we are talking of Percy Weasley! Believe me you can call that boy a lot but not connected with ‘a little’.” Anne reminded her friend.

“Anne is right, that boy has completely lost track to reality.” Oliver informed them. “Well, then you should help him to get both feet firmly on the ground.” Patience advised him and returned to her book on quidditch. “Actually I thought you’d help me.” Oliver added. Patience looked at him. “You are old enough to handle those things by yourself.” She told him. Oliver looked helplessly at Anne. “Use your brain, Verres. Don’t tell me you can’t think of anything to make Percy cool down.” Anne replied. Oliver’s face lit up and he left. “It looks like your brother just had an idea.” Anne whispered. “I hope so. Percy is really annoying sometimes.” Patience sighed. “Sometimes?” Anne asked. Patience laughed.

Oliver went straight to the library. He had read of a potion that made you spit fire every time you were talking about a special topic. Fortunately he remembered the book and the page, on which he had found this recipe. He copied it in a haste. All the ingredients were easily available but Oliver had run out of phyllodesma americana . “Percy, could you borrow me some …?” Oliver asked most kindly. “Honestly, Oliver, you should be a better organizer of your things! Just imagine what a fuss professor Snape would have made if you had told him that you had no … .” Percy lectured him.

“Thank you, Percy.” Oliver replied and grinned evilly. “Since when is Verres brewing potions in his spare time?” Anne whispered. Patience shrugged. “Both have a liking for quidditch and potions – weird.” Anne commented. “I think it is weird not to like quidditch – and potions.” Patience replied. “Are you sure there aren’t any genes of a certain professor in your chain of chromosomes?” Anne asked jokingly. “I’m in no way related to professor McGonagall!” Patience told her friend. “Who would believe that!” Anne whispered almost inaudible. “Are you suggesting any relations to…” A loud pop interrupted this discussion. “That came from the direction in which Verres had gone.” Patience exclaimed.

She jumped up and followed the noise. Anne ran after her. Verres was coughing but smiling merrily. His face was black with soot. “Are you all right?” Patience asked anxiously embracing her little brother. “Yeah, it’s perfect. Just like it should be.” Verres said happily. Anne removed some of the soot from Verres’ nose with the tip of her finger. “It doesn’t really look like suntan and it is non-permanent.” She told him. “That’s not supposed to be suntan, Anne.” Verres scolded her. “Glad to hear that, my friend.” She replied and with a handkerchief she cleaned his face carefully.

“Usually people aren’t happy when their potions explode.” Patience said letting go of her brother. “But not when it is supposed to explode.” Verres said triumphantly. “You knew that that would happen?” Patience asked unbelievingly. Verres nodded. “Of course I did.” Anne shook her head. “Mental, the whole family’s mental.” She commented. “You should have warned us. What potion is it that it has to explode anyway?” Patience wanted to know. “My dear sister, watch me and learn.” Verres suggested. He took his cauldron and carried it away. “What was that?” Anne whispered. Patience shook her head. “brothers!”

Verres was especially good humoured for the rest of the day and extraordinarily friendly to Percy. Patience and Anne waited for anything to happen. Shortly before curfew it happened. “It’s time to go to bed now, everybody go to bed now, quickly c’mon!” Percy ordered. Verres didn’t move but watched his classmate. A loud pop announced what was to follow. The next words spoken by Percy Weasley weren’t heard because of the fire that came out of his mouth. He spat fire only when he was scolding and lecturing. The common room was bursting into laughter. Patience dragged her brother closer. “You did that.” She whispered.

“Pop goes the Weasley.” He remarked proudly. Patience shook her head. “You better don’t get yourself caught.” She advised him. “Now if that doesn’t teach him a lesson!” Anne stated. “We better take him to professor McGonagall or Madam Pomfrey.” Patience whispered. “Oh no.” Anne exclaimed. “Can’t we let him be like this for a couple of days?” Anne begged. “And what if he’s scolding in his sleep just like he is doing all day long?” Patience asked. Anne sighed. “All right.” Patience took Percy’s arm and dragged him towards the door. “C'mon Hot Spur. We’ll take you to professor McGonagall.” Patience explained. Anne put her arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Gunpowder Percy.”

They didn’t meet anyone on their way. Gently they knocked at the door to professor McGonagall’s private rooms. “You should be asleep.” McGonagall remarked opening the door. “Percy isn’t feeling too well.” Patience explained with a straight face. Anne preferred to remain silent. “What is it, Mr. Weasley?” McGonagall asked warmly placing her hand on his forehead. “No temperature.” She stated. “Well, the heat is more coming out of his mouth.” Patience whispered as discreet as possible.

“Explain yourself.” McGonagall replied. “He spits fire.” Anne told her. Professor McGonagall put her hand on her chest and took a deep breath. “The poor boy!” She exclaimed. “You better take him to Madam Pomfrey. I’ll fetch professor Snape. I don’t think that Poppy has anything against spitting fire.” McGonagall muttered leaving the three students behind. “A nightly rendezvous with our potion’s master, thanks Gunpowder.” Anne moaned. Patience giggled. Madam Pomfrey opened the door for them.

When they had explained Percy’s problem she consoled him. “Well, we’ll have to go now.” Anne said heading for the door. “Oh, you kind dears, you can’t leave without a hot chocolate. And young Percy will drink one as well – I don’t think it will do you any harm, my dear boy.” “At least it won’t turn cold.” Patience whispered. Anne grinned. Percy sat on one of the beds and looked miserably. “I almost feel sympathy for him.” Anne whispered. “Of course, Miss Wood and Miss Symmons. What did you give Mr. Weasley?” Snape barked.

Patience turned to Anne. “Did you give Percy anything?” Anne tipped with the tip of her finger on her nose thinking hard. “I offered him one of my Every Flavour Beans but I think he didn’t take it. What about you?” “I would have definitely taken it.” Patience replied. Snape glared angrily at them. “Very funny indeed.” He spat. “I don’t think it was them this time, Severus. They took him to me.” McGonagall defended her students. “Maybe they hadn’t been aware of the consequences.” Snape thought aloud scanning the two girls who were enjoying their hot chocolates. “You better save some of your hot chocolate Percy, I bet the potion you’ll have to drink will be dreadful.” Patience advised him. Percy nodded carefully. “Better you don’t think of the taste.” Anne remarked. Again Percy nodded.

Snape poured some of a reddish liquid into a glass and offered it to Percy. He took the glass but hesitated to drink. “Oh boy, it won’t work if you just hold it.” He snapped. “It doesn’t look too bad.” Patience said in an assuring way. “Maybe you want to close your eyes?” Anne suggested. That was what Percy did. He closed his eyes firmly and it seemed that he was holding his breath as well. He swallowed the awful liquid at once. The face he pulled when he had finished indicated that the taste had been horrible.

When Snape had taken back the glass Percy buried his face in his hands. Patience sat down next to him caressing his hair. “It’s over now.” She whispered. “Here, you better have another sip of your hot chocolate.” Anne passed him his cup. Weakly Percy took it and drank. His cheeks turned rosy again. “He’ll have to sleep now.” Snape ordered. “Do you need anything?” Anne whispered. Percy shook his head. “Severus, would you be so kind as to take Miss Wood and Miss Symmons back to their dormitories?” He nodded. “Good night.” Both Patience and Anne wished Percy. Snape opened the door for the two girls. “You have been very nice to Mr. Weasley.” Snape commented. Neither Patience nor Anne reacted. “Maybe I was wrong in assuming that it had been you who poisoned young Weasley.” Snape admitted.

There Might Be A Little Dust on the Bottle...

Professor Mortimer Brewster-brown could be sure to have the entire attention of his students. Unlike Preston he was able to wrap the facts to be learned in interesting little stories. One day when the fifth year students entered his classroom there was a word written on the blackboard: Aladdin.

The professor entered all eyes staring at him. “Well, what sorts of things do you connect with today’s word?” He asked looking around. He noticed that Jack was grinning. “Mr. Smith, anything you want to share with the rest of us?” Brewster-brown asked cheerfully. Jack’s grin grew broader. He stood up, cleared his throat and started:

There was a lad in Hungaria,

he couldn’t have been hungarier,

so one day he went to the sea,

where anyone can live for free,

and from that day on he would have a fish,

as breakfast, midday and evening dish.

Brewster-brown laughed heartily. “That was wonderful. Unfortunately – though it might be connected to the word on the blackboard – it has nothing to do with today’s lesson. However, I think there is no way to start a lesson pleasanter than with a good laugh. Thank you Mr. Smith.” It was quite hard for the teacher to stop grinning. “Aladdin, now, who knows this person?” Carefully Hengist raised his hand. It was a well-known fact that the little boy was interested in all kinds of animated stories and tales. “Aladdin was a young man who found a bottle on the sea shore. In the bottle was a ghost, who threatened to kill him, though he should have granted him three wishes…”

“Thank you, Mr. Alret. We don’t want to reveal the end of the story there might be some people interested in the cunning plan of this young man.” The teacher looked at Anne who was just as fond of logic as Hengist was of stories. She made a note and decided to check the story out in the library.

“Our topic will not be Aladdin. We will talk about the jinnee. A jinnee is an Islamic ghost. He or she lives in a bottle or in an oil lamp usually but can be found in all sorts of habitats similar to those. They have a lot of powers, however, they cannot go through closed…” Brewster-brown stopped somehow his brain had just told him that this sentence would not work out. “A jinnee needs an opening to get out.” The students grinned. “What about the three wishes?” Banks wanted to know. “I must disappoint you. It is highly unlikely. The jinn were imprisoned because they are bad spirits. Who would imprison a well-meaning spirit? Wouldn’t make much sense, would it?”

The lesson passed and the other did so, too. In the evening Anne checked out the story and when she returned to the common room she was all exited. “Do you know how clever Aladdin was?” “Yes!” Hengist replied being somewhat angry that she had refused to rely on his version of the story. Anne ignored him. She sat down on the floor. “Aladdin told the ghost that as mighty as he might be he could not believe that he was able to fit in the bottle! And – stupid as man are – Hengist’s present excluded – the jinnee entered the bottle again just to prove that he was able to. Aladdin closed the bottle and there he was: locked.”

“I could have told you that an hour ago.” Hengist reminded her. “Never mind, damn clever that man – do you think we can convince Vargas to enter a bottle?” “No way.” Patience shook her head. “But maybe Banks is stupid enough.” “You wish!” Hengist sighed. “I fear life is not as easy as a fairy tale…” “Says the boy who made us follow a dwarf who wasn’t even there just to find a treasure which wasn’t there either.” Patience reminded him. “Well, I’ve matured since then…” To this the girls only laughed.

When their laughter had ceased they became very quiet. “Do you think what I think?” Patience asked. Anne nodded. “I’m not sure…” Hengist replied. “We could play a little prank on our favourite Slytherins.” She explained. “Yes, great, what will we do? Dungbombs, Fillibusters?” Hengist wanted to know. “A jinnee…” Anne whispered mysteriously. “But we don’t have one at hand.” Hengist reminded them. “But we know where to get one.” Anne jumped up and hurried to the dormitory.

When she returned she carried a little booklet. “What is that? I have never seen that with you.” Hengist told her. “That my dear friend is our best hidden secret. But not only ours but that of professor Flitwick, too.” Anne replied. Hengist frowned. “Did you steal it?” He asked. Patience and Anne laughed. “We would never steal from professor Flitwick!” They declared in one voice. “He gave it to us so that we could play a trick or two on our Slytherin friends.” Anne explained. Hengist nodded and knowing Flitwick and knowing the girls and knowing the Slytherins he was ready to hold this story as a truth.

“First Class Charms to Use on Your Fellow Students – Collected and Selected by Bartholomew Filius Flitwick” She read with a smile. “There is a nice chapter about making things appear which are not really there and guess what sort of thing is created?” “A jinnee?” Hengist asked carefully. Anne gave a half nod. “Partly right, Hengist, it’s a normal ghost but hey, who knows what a jinnee might look like!” “The only thing we need is a bottle, an old one, a cork and a bit of wax…” Patience listed. The three looked at each other. “The kitchen!” They decided in one voice.

Patience tickled the plume and was allowed to enter. Provided with all the things she needed and some other things she did not quite as desperately need she returned to the common room. Anne put the spell into the bottle and Patience put the cork into. Hengist sealed it with the wax. He looked at the bottle for some time. “But how will Vargas and the others get it? He will be very suspicious.” “The trick, my dear Hengist, is that he won’t get!” Patience told him. Hengist frowned. “I don’t get it.” “He won’t get it at first. He will have to work very hard for it and be very cunning.” Patience revealed.

“But I told you. It’s what everybody is saying at Hogsmeade.” Hengist pleaded. “You have gone mad, Hengist, how would an Islamic ghost find its way to England?” Anne contradicted him. “Pirates!” He replied in earnest. “And how would pirates come to the Forbidden Forest?” Patience wanted to know. “Holiday?” Hengist suggested. “Why don’t we go with him. He won’t keep quiet until we do. We just go to that cave. Search it, find nothing and return here all before sunset!” Anne threw in. Patience thought about this option for a moment. “Alright. But just to show you that there is no such thing as a bottle with a ghost in that cave!”

Of course, our three friends had made sure that Vargas, Banks and Cook had witnessed this conversation. Vargas frowned. “This looks a lot like a trick to me…” He thought aloud. “But just think how cool it would be to have a bottle of jinnee.” Banks said to him. “Shut up Banks, I’m trying to think.” He watched the Gryffindors vanish. “Okay, we will follow them – but silently!” He warned his two companions.

“I’m sure you won’t regret it!” Hengist told his two friends. “No for certain, we won’t regret this…just like the dwarf thing we didn’t regret!” Anne snapped. Patience stopped in mid-movement. “Hang on, this isn’t a story you have heard from Vargas and his lot?” She interrogated. “No, honestly, I haven’t!” Hengist told them. “Maybe it is his doing after all. I think we should turn around and leave!” Anne whispered looking around suspiciously.

“This seems to be a genuine story…” Vargas said to his friends. “Which cave are they talking about?” He asked the other two who shrugged in reply. “You know something, your help is  really invaluable.” The two smiled taking it for a compliment. “Well, we will have to do our own investigations if they turn around and go back to Hogwarts.”

“No!” Patience said firmly. “Vargas is not clever enough to think of something like that. The scheme would be much too big for him alone anyway!” “But he has Banks and Cook!” Anne threw in. “They, they are useless!” Patience replied. “For one time I must agree with you!” Vargas whispered and followed their footpath until they got to the cave.

Again Anne looked around suspiciously. “I think we better block this from view.” She whispered loud enough so that Vargas could hear her. She waved her wand and a dark shadow threw itself on the entrance of the cave. They walked inside. Hengist couldn’t help grinning but Patience’s warning look told him to better not make a single noise which didn’t belong to the plan.

“See, there is no hidden hole in the…wall, hang on. I can feel something!” Patience declared. “It’s, it’s a bottle!” “I told you there was a jinnee!” Hengist said in a satisfied voice. “And you are sure it is a friendly jinnee?” Anne asked carefully. “I told you so! Everybody says so! Open it!” Hengist urged her. “No, better not here. You never know what can happen. We take it back to the castle and besides I cannot make up my mind what to wish for!” Anne laughed.

The shadow was removed and the Malignant Magpies left the cave carefully hiding the dusty bottle so that Vargas and his friends could see it. “We must make sure that Vargas, Banks and Cook won’t find it!” Hengist told them. Patience nodded. “Yes, we will need a very good hiding place!” She agreed. “One he will never find out about.” She added grinning inwardly.

All of them sneaked back to the castle the Malignant Magpies always making sure that they didn’t lose the Slytherin trio. Beforehand they had discussed possible hiding places. They had agreed that Gryffindor tower would be the wrong place though it might have been a way to find out if they were able to enter their common room. So it was decided to take the Slytherins for a little walk through the castle.

Appropriately they would start out in the Dungeons inspecting every statue and pillar for possible hiding places and possible hiding foes. “Honestly, I don’t think the Dungeons are the right place!” Anne finally decided. The others agreed and so they went up to the hospital wing. They turned every bed in search for a suitable hiding – in vain. “Ravenclaw Tower!” Hengist suggested and they walked over to their classmates’ tower. After that they went to the Great Hall, the greenhouses, Slytherin Tower, McGonagall’s office, the library, Hagrid’s hut, the Great Hall again, Hufflepuff Tower, Flitwick’s office, the astronomer tower and Brewster-brown’s office.

“Here is the right place!” Patience announced. “But you have said so three times before!” Hengist reminded her. Banks rubbed his feet. Vargas gave him a warning look. “But, you know, I have the feeling that if we add a statue here no one would notice it.” Patience told them. Anne nodded. “I think she is right!” Hengist nodded as well. “Then what are we waiting for?” He asked. Patience waved her wand and a statue appeared. “Adonis, how appropriately.” Anne remarked looking at the handsome fellow. “You know, he reminds me of Banks a bit…he has no brain!” Patience said.

Vargas almost burst into laughter but he had to hold himself and in fact Banks back. No, Banks was not on the verge of collapsing with laughter, he was just about to set forth to take revenge on that Wood-creature. “There will be a time for revenge!” He hissed. But he himself thought that she was quite right.

“We will put it right here.” Hengist said and hid the bottle behind the statue. “And we will add this!” Patience held a mousetrap in her hand. She bent down and put it next to the bottle. “That should make it safe!” Anne agreed. “Then we only have to come up with a couple of wishes. I think I’ll go for endless riches or something like that!” “Yes, sure. And where would you put all your treasures?” Anne wanted to know. “Maybe the jinnee pays with a cheque?!” Hengist replied. “What?” Patience asked. “Girls, you really should wish for some more muggle understanding.” For that he got punched in the rips.

When they had left Vargas and his boys stepped forward. Vargas made sure that they had really left. They had. “Banks, get out the bottle!” He commanded. Banks did as he was told – well, almost. “Ouch, what’s that?” “Mousetrap.” Vargas said without even bothering to turn around. “Cook, you get it then!” Vargas added. And Cook did as he was told – well, almost, too. Now it was Vargas who first had a look to make sure that there wasn’t another mousetrap. Carefully he put his hand behind the statue and pulled out the bottle.

“Sort of dusty!” Cook observed. “Open it!” Banks urged him. “Fool!” Vargas said. “Didn’t you learn anything?” He waved his wand and made the statue disappear. “Now they will think that someone removed the statue and their bottle is gone with it. That will give us enough time to come up with some wishes…” “But I want mine now!” Banks protested. “Oh shut up, I’ve had enough of you for this term!”

There had never been a doubt that anything Vargas had decided was to be done. And so they returned with the bottle to the Slytherin common room. Vargas was careful not to show the bottle to anyone. He couldn’t help distrusting even his closest Slytherin friends. He better should have trusted them more. Maybe one of them would have used the bottle and prevented Vargas from having the shock of his life.

A few words must be dropped about the ghost. To make anything appear which isn’t there might look like a very useful thing to do, then again, if you don’t have any control over it it isn’t exactly helpful. The three friends and, as I may be at liberty to call them, our three friends had long thought about the respective traits of characters their ghost should have. Everything had to be written on a sheet of paper and placed in envelope which was to be sealed and burned afterwards. The exact spell will not be revealed at this place.

The bottle was not to be opened until the following a day, a Sunday. Vargas had tortured his mind with the question where to open it. How much room would a jinnee need, did it prefer fresh air or was that fatal to it? He finally made up his mind to open the bottle in the greenhouses. They were sort of everything. He informed his two friends the next morning. For all we can say about Vargas he was decent enough to let his friends have their share of the wishes.

But what would they wish had they ever the chance to do so. There will be no better moment to discuss these, as the reader will know, there will be no chance to make any wishes on that Sunday. To discuss their wishes after their defeat doesn’t make sense and so it seems appropriate and logic to take a look at them now. Roland Banks probably had the stupidest of all wishes for he went in concord with Hengist and would have wished for riches. Cook had decided in favour of a much more useful thought. He always wanted to have enough food to eat. A very practical fellow indeed – and a very hungry one if he came up with such a wish at Hogwarts.

But the cleverest of wishes found its origin in the brain of Vargas. It wasn’t easy for him to make up his mind and until the last moment two competing wishes would be present in his mind. However, the one he would have actually made, was to always know in advance what the others would do. As clever as this might have been the other wish would have been much wiser but as he didn’t take it there is no need to mention it.

The greenhouses were light, warm and empty. Only a couple of plants would witness the scene – that is at least what the Slytherin trio thought. As it was their prank they didn’t want to miss the main part of it. The Malignant Magpies had known even before Vargas that the only place to go to would be the greenhouses. As for Sunday, which other day would be suited better for such a project?

The bottle was placed in the middle of one of the greenhouses. It doesn’t matter which one for Vargas will get just as angry if you mention this story to him without naming the particular greenhouse. And believe me I know it for I have tried. Everything was ready. It had been decided that Vargas would open the bottle. He thought it a much too important task to leave it to either Cook or Banks. As for Cook and Banks they had no vote in this decision or any other.

“It will be so much fun.” Anne whispered. Patience nodded. “They will be scared to death.” “Serves them right.” Hengist added still grieving about the fact that the stupid Slytherins had fooled him with the dwarf story. The three were watching carefully and I think we should turn back to the main events, too.

It wasn’t easy to open but Vargas finally managed. A white foam was released. Slowly it took the shape of a ghostlike figure. Vargas, Banks and Cook didn’t even have the chance to try one of their wishes. The ghost screamed in a deep voice. Probably saying something dreadful for the three students ran screaming and crying out of the greenhouse. As the ghost followed them he called. “I will kill thee Vargas!”

It will be no surprise to you to hear that from that day on none of the three volunteered to open any bottle despite what was supposed to be inside. The story was passed from class to class and soon everybody felt free to make fun of the three. However, you should never make fun of Ramon Vargas. Back then you shouldn’t because he was sure to give you a revenge and today, well, so much has changed.

New Quidditch Players

Although the plan with placing Mungus directly under Snape’s long nose pleased him, Hengist didn’t get rid of his toad so easily. But he began getting used to ugly Mungus. “You know what I’ve thought of? I could have transfigured that toad into a bludger – just imagine the fun of a Slytherin getting hit by a smashed toad right in his face”, Hengist said dreamily. “This is stupid”, Patience snapped back. She was extremely nervous today. “Don’t joke about Quidditch, we have another match today and Hugh Nolan has decided to play beater to let Oliver play regularly in the team”, Anne sighed. Hengist grinned. “I have decided to apply for the team as well”, he announced.

That made the two girls stare at him – shocked. “Mike and Brian want to do it as well. I mean, it’s a shame, our year has no one on the team.” Patience grinned. “But I’m doing the comment”, she reminded him. “Yeah, and that’s a great honour, but we need some decent player as well.” Anne doubted that Mike and Brian were decent players. The last time she had seen them play Quidditch they were more occupied in hitting each other with the bludgers than throwing them at the opposing team. “Well, I think it’s a good idea”, Patience said, sounding not very convinced. “Hugh is in his last year, Clara and Jodie as well. And God knows we need another seeker, because Henry Miller is simply unable to catch the Snitch.” Patience thought anybody might be better than Henry.

In fact both she and Anne had taken over the job as seeker but got hit by various balls and sworn never to play again. Anne’s aversion towards Quidditch had even grown after her disastrous play. Oliver joined them at the breakfast table. “I hope this time I’m not going to fall off my broom”, he sighed. Patience looked fondly at her brother. “You won’t Verres, with Hugh as a beater looking for you…” “I’m really sorry Joe Ford isn’t allowed to play this time”, Oliver said, his mouth full of scrambled eggs. “Verres, don’t talk with your mouth full”, Patience reproached him. Oliver grinned. “Yes, Ma’am.”

Anne had to hide a grin when they all went down to the Quidditch pitch. Even though Oliver was only 12 years old he was already taller than his sister. “We’re playing against Slytherin, what a fun”, Patience said, nudging Oliver encouragingly before she mounted the steps to the teacher’s stand. Hengist and Anne climbed up to the Gryffindor stands. Hagrid was there as well. “There y’are”, he boomed. “C’mon, sit ‘ere, lots a space ‘ere!” Hengist and Anne squeezed in next to Hagrid. They had marvellous seats in the front row. The teams zoomed out of their stands, streaks in green and red. Patience announced their names. “Slytherin’s got a new chaser, I see”, Hengist grinned.

Sarah Gent wasn’t allowed to play any more, so they had to find a new one. “Slytherin chasers Don Markure, Petra Zenous and Ramon Vargas”, Patience announced. “Oh no, not Vargas!”, Anne groaned. Hagrid looked enquiringly at her. “He’s unfair and a real jackass”, Hengist explained helpfully. Hagrid chortled. “Ye mean he’s a real Slytherin!” That made them laugh. The match was already going on for five minutes without even one score at all. “At least Verres stays on his broom so far”, Anne giggled. Hugh Nolan kept a close look on his new keeper and drove the bludgers furiously over to the Slytherin team. “Hugh Nolan is back in his old position and better than ever”, Patience told the audience proudly.

As nothing of importance happened, McGonagall didn’t reprimand her. “Now it’s Slytherin chaser Vargas in possession of the quaffel. He races towards the Gryffindor goalposts. What an amazingly fast flight! It seems almost impossible keeper Wood will save that ball – but he does! Well done, Verres!”, Patience screamed. The Slytherins broke into laughter at the sound of Oliver’s nickname. “My brother is really an excellent keeper,” Patience said. Oliver went brick red. That was too much.

He felt humiliated and flew over to the teacher’s stand. “Go back!”, Patience hissed furiously. “You’ve made me a laughing stock!”, her brother complained. “Slytherin in possession of the quaffel!”, Patience said urgently, pointing at Markure who was flying towards the goalposts. “No, Markure got hit by a bludger from Nolan, it’s now Gryffindor in possession again.” Oliver flew back to the goalposts, still fussing over his sister’s speech. Patience avoided carefully calling Oliver other than Keeper Wood from that time on. “There’s the snitch!”, she suddenly cried. “The seekers fly for it, but Henry Miller is followed by both Slytherin beaters. They do not get near enough to make it a real foul, but they make Miller nervous. There’s Mispress going for the snitch. Oh, Henry, for once in you life, please!”, Patience moaned. But it was no use, Henry failed again to catch the snitch and Slytherin won. Patience sighed heavily, forgetting as usual to de-sonore her voice. She walked over to the Gryffindors. “Isn’t it a pity?”, she asked. Hagrid stared at her.

Anne grinned and de-sonored Patience’s voice. “Huh? Did I forget it? Sorry. I think I should go and see the team, will you come with me?” Hengist agreed instantly. Hagrid refused and Anne looked concerned. “Listen, you won’t ask me again to be seeker?”, she asked carefully. “No, I won’t”, Patience promised. “I think I know another seeker this time, and…” She trailed off seeing Roland Banks advancing. Hagrid had vanished in the crowd – well, he was still seen easily because he towered over every head, but he wasn’t anywhere near.

“So your little brat of a brother is called Verres, is he?”, Banks sneered. “Well, we love him dearly at home. I guess you don’t have a nickname at all?”, Patience answered in a fake friendly voice. Without his cronies in the back Roland would certainly have vanished, but there was still Sebastian Cook. Vargas of course was celebrated in the pitch. “You should seek a new seeker”, Cook said provokingly. Patience’s face instantly broke into a smile. “No, Cook, you won’t get the job”, she cooed and walked past him and Roland. Hengist and Anne followed her. “No use talking to them, they’ve left their brains somewhere and can’t find them”, Patience said, clenching her fists. “But they’re right, we need a new seeker. Hengist, apply as soon as you can, Hugh’ll be delighted!”

Hugh had been indeed delighted, and from that day on Patience spent most of her free time at the Quidditch pitch watching Hengist fly after the Snitch. Anne was also there, only out of loyalty for her friends. But Patience thought she really enjoyed it sometimes. Hugh had announced the next match they would play against Ravenclaw. “Who’s in the Ravenclaw team?”, Hengist asked. Mike and Brian, also new in the team and until next year only reserve, landed next to the rest.

“Their seeker is Ashraf Bagoony, he’s brilliant”, Hugh said thoughtfully. “He’s always tricking his opponents into believing he had seen the Snitch until they don’t believe him any more and he catches it. You must be careful with that, Hengist. Then there’s the keeper, David Bantam. He’s okay, not as good as Oliver, but he’s difficult to pass anyway. The beaters, Jing-Mei Chen and Laura Russell, can be really vicious. The chasers… Well, we must have a good look on captain Kenneth Grant. He’s dangerous. The other two, Julia White and Orlando Benign – we can deal with them easily, I hope.” Patience doubted they could really deal easily with any Quidditch team at all – Hufflepuff exempted, of course. “We’ll see”, she simply said, checking her watch and running off to be punctual at Muggle Studies.

Anne had reserved seats for both Hengist and Patience. But Hengist came much too late. Emerson Dicket scowled. “I thought we’d start right on time, Alret”, he said. Hengist excused himself. Dicket continued his lesson on the use of electricity. “Muggles use electricity for all things. They have electric light, electric kitchen helpers and electric entertainment.” Dicket showed them some of these things in his orb, showing as usual a Muggle home. “I always wondered if they know we watch them”, Patience whispered. Dicket caught that. He always caught everything. “They do not know that. If they get suspicious because they feel watched, then I change the focus to another Muggle home”, the professor explained. “See, there’s the son of this family, sitting in front of a TV set.”

“A what?”, Ghewyn asked puzzled. “A TV set. This is a box with some electricity in it which shows pictures, films and advertisement.” Patience’s hand rose. “Yes, Miss Wood?” “Is it a kind of cinema? My brother and me went once into a cinema, where they showed films”, Patience asked. “Yes, you could compare it. As you all know, Muggle photos do not move. They need films to make moving pictures. And they like watching them.” Dicket paused, looking into the orb. “Although obviously Mrs Muggle here dislikes her son’s habit of spending his afternoons watching films.” The class laughed. Dicket also smiled. “let’s see. You should read the chapter on films and write a little essay on why Muggles like them.” He let them begin with this work, for there was only the quarter of an hour left.

When the bell rang and the Gryffindors left the classroom, Hugh Nolan was waiting for them in front of the room. “Practise tonight”, he briskly said and turned away. Hengist looked stunned. “We have been training this morning, and now tonight as well?” Anne had seen that there was an announcement for the last Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw. “Poor Hugh! I hope we’ll be able to make a favourable prediction for our team now”, Patience giggled. Hengist sighed. “I completely forgot we had Divination now!” Anne shrugged. “It’s what you wanted to do. Keep a closer look on my romantic adventures for next month!”, she joked.

Most of the time neither Patience nor Hengist saw anything, but today it was especially annoying not to see anything. “I wish we had seen a favourable outcome for the match”, Patience kept repeating until Hengist, already growing nervous told her plainly to shut up. By Friday he was rehearsing his Quidditch strategies every moment. Only in their Potions lesson he put his parchments into his bag. Snape was very annoyed. And by the end of the lesson the stupid behaviour of Roland Banks had made him so angry he gave them loads of homework. Hengist groaned. “I don’t know when to do that, I simply haven’t got the nerve for any homework now!”, he complained. Anne patted his shoulder sympathetically. “We’ll se to that. I think you may copy my essay for Dicket with slight alterations – not Patience’s, she’s written two rolls! And Potions you should copy from her – as I will do if she kindly allows me to!” Patience agreed to that.

So the two girls sat in the Common Room doing their – and Hengist’s – homework while Hengist was in the Quidditch pitch till it was too dark to stay outside. By Saturday morning Hengist seemed to consist only of nerves. He couldn’t eat, how much Patience tried to force him. Oliver Wood grinned at the new seeker, forgetting just how nervous he had been in his first match. Patience reminded him of that mercilessly. Anne chuckled. “It’s so nice to see how much you care for each other!”

When Patience announced the teams, she felt awful. Her friend and her brother in one team, the last match of the season – so much was at stake by now! The tension in the stands was almost to be touched. The Slytherins booed the Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs were divided between supporting Ravenclaw and supporting Gryffindor. There they were! Red and blue players flew around the pitch. Madam Hooch let go of the balls and the match started. “It’s Ravenclaw in possession of the quaffel! Captain Grant flies at tremendous speed towards Gryffindor keeper Wood. Will he save this? No, Ravenclaw scored!” McGonagall looked at Patience and frowned to remind her to stay impartial.

As early in the match Patience managed that easily. Only in matches against Slytherin she couldn’t hold her tongue for long. “Seamus O’Brien of Gryffindor in possession of the quaffel. He passes to Wordsworth who passes to Potts who – SCORES! There’s a bludger flying towards Julia White of Ravenclaw, don’t the beaters see it? Oh no, it has hit her! What a shame!” Julia White had to stop playing and Ravenclaw was now one chaser short. “The bludger had been beat into her direction after the rules, so no penalty for Ravenclaw. Nevertheless they are in possession of the Quaffel and they – no, they don’t score, keeper Wood has saved that! Unbelievable! That boy’s really the biggest discovery Hugh Nolan has made so far. The Snitch is not to be seen anywhere until now though Ravenclaw seeker Bagoony tries to make Gryffindor seeker Alret believe it is on the ground. Fortunately Alret doesn’t follow Bagoony’s tricks.”

McGonagall scowled but stayed silent. “Ravenclaw score again, don’t worry, Oliver no one would have caught that and Nolan beats a bludger over to Grant, but misses. Alret seems to have seen the snitch, eh dives much too fast, will he come up again? And yes, he does, but it seems he has faked seeing the Snitch! And Bagoony got caught by his own trick!” Patience’s laughter was cut short by a reprimand by McGonagall. “What is that?”, Patience suddenly asked and pointed at the small glittering golden ball exactly on top of the teacher’s stand. Hengist and Ashraf hurried to get it – and it was Hengist who succeeded! “Gryffindor won! 160 to 20!” McGonagall de-sonored Patience’s voice quickly before the girl ran down to the pitch to congratulate her brother and the rest of the team.

Hugh Nolan seemed to be unhappy although Gryffindor had won. “Hey, Hugh! We’ve won!”, Patience cried joyfully. Hugh nodded sadly. “Yes, one match. We haven’t got the Quidditch Cup, and most certainly not the House Cup!”, he said. “Damn! And that was my last chance to get it. Hey, Oliver come over here! See to it you manage to get the Cup before you leave school!”, he advised his discovery and walked away. Patience and liver stared after him. “He’s really to be pitied”, Patience slowly said. Oliver nodded. “I swear Ill have the very best team Hogwarts has ever seen”, he said earnestly. “Who is the new team captain when Hugh has left?”, his sister asked curiously. Oliver shrugged. “That is something the team and Professor McGonagall will decide.”

My Famous Forefather

“Oh, Miss Symmons, could you…” Thaddeus Mortimer Brewster-brown called behind a heap of books. He had just wanted her to open the door but she didn’t hesitate and took a couple of books. “No, I just wanted you to open the door.” He explained. Anne grinned and with her back she pushed the door open. “Yes, anyone should definitely be a clever student.” He decided.

When they had reached his office Brewster-brown applied Anne’s trick. It didn’t work. “Damn it!” He said in his mild voice. “Sorry, forget what you have just heard.” He said to Anne who grinned. “Probably you locked it.” She suggested. “Yes, I definitely did that.” He looked around to decide where to place the books. He finally placed them on a spot closest to the door, yes, dear reader, right in front of it.

He unlocked the door, took the books and opened it with his back. “Entrez, Miss Symmons.” “Thank you.” She said and walked past him. “Just place the books on the table…or the chair…no, wait…mmh…just hold on to them.” Too late he realized that there was no room for the new books. But there was a problem – the pile of books in his own hands. “Why don’t we just put them down on the floor!” He suggested.

“Let’s see…where can I make some room?” Brewster-brown thought aloud. “Why don’t you try some magic?” Anne wanted to know. “Good idea…” Brewster-brown waved his wand and mumbled a spell. The things – books, sheets of parchment and all sorts of little tokens – started flying around the room each searching for a new place to rest. “Oh no, wait!” Brewster-brown exclaimed and grabbed a kaleidoscope cruising around his head.

“I wouldn’t want that to be misplaced.” He looked at it for a short moment. “Do you want to have a look?” He passed it to Anne. Anne looked through it. Through it she could see the most beautiful patterns. For a moment she was sure to see colours she had never seen before, but then they looked so familiar to her that she was sure to always have been acquainted to them. “It’s beautiful.” “Yes…” He looked through it himself. “Why does it mean so much to you?” Anne asked.

“It is the world’s first kaleidoscope, Miss Symmons.” Anne frowned. “And how comes that you have it?” “Because my great-great-great-and-so-on-father invented it. Sir David Brewster.” “NO!” She said disbelievingly. “Oh yes. Who would believe that – but anyway anyone has a famous fore-father or fore-mother, don’t you?” Anne thought about this for a moment. “I don’t know. My parents never mentioned anything like that…” “Then, Miss Symmons, you will have to be the one famous member of your family. Tell me, how do you want to become famous?”

Anne had never thought about becoming famous. On the contrary, she had always dreamed of a quiet happy little life. “Miss Symmons, you hesitate? You have loads of talents, I’d say, though, maybe not in the sector of plants.” Anne grinned. “Maybe in the sector of the destruction of plants!” She suggested. “Uh, quite depressing, I’d say.” Anne nodded. “My sister will take care of becoming famous for our family.” Brewster-brown was surprised. “You have a sister? Is she at Hogwarts, too?” “No, she’s at Hazelnut Forreth.”

“Anyway, you should never leave it to somebody else to become famous.” Brewster-brown told her looking thoughtfully at the kaleidoscope. “Then again in the end you will never know what remains…” He turned towards Anne. “He did many other things, too, and this…” He raised his hand. “…and this is the only thing he is remembered for. But hardly anyone knows it was him.” “What else did he do?” Anne was very curious.

“Loads of things. He was a preacher, a philosopher, a scientist – he was everything you could be way back then. He was involved in the invention of the lighthouse…and he was well-known for his eccentricities. He never drank alcohol and he insisted on washing his feet every evening!” He laughed and so did Anne. “I’d not call that eccentric! Maybe a useful invention is something good to become famous.” “Yes, if you do!”

“But, I’m sorry, I must have kept you for an hour!” Brewster-brown exclaimed. Anne checked her watch. “Not that long but I must run now! Bye, professor!” She ran out of the room and Brewster-brown remembered that there were still some books which needed the free space on his desk. He sighed and put the kaleidoscope back onto the desk. Anne in the meantime was back in her common room. “Where have you been?” Patience wanted to know. “We’ve been waiting for you.” Hengist added. “Sorry guys, I talked to professor Brewster-brown.”

“Professor, I must have a very serious word with you!” Dumbledore announced as he opened the door to Brewster-brown’s office shortly after Anne had closed it. “Professor Dumbledore, I certainly will clean this mess.” He promised on the instant. “I don’t care what your office looks like! I’m worried about what you are saying to Miss Symmons!” Brewster-brown frowned. “What did I say to her that I shouldn’t have?” He wanted to know.

“Have you ever thought about your ancestors?” Anne asked as they did their homework together. She was copying Patience’s potion recipe and therefore had time to think about those matters. “No!” Hengist replied. Patience hesitated for a moment. “Mine were robber barons!” She revealed. “That explains a lot!” Hengist said and grinned at Patience. “How do you know?” Anne wanted to know. Patience shrugged. “I always knew.” Anne frowned. She turned towards Hengist. “And how comes that you don’t know?”

“You got this idea of her fore-fathers into her head!” Dumbledore complained. “What was wrong about that?” Brewster-brown asked in a surprised voice. “She should not know about her ancestors! So far I have been happy that her parents haven’t set weird ideas into her head and now you start doing that!” The headmaster explained a little louder than usual. The ears of Brewster-brown reddened. “How should I have known?” He said. “That is the problem with you, you don’t know.”

Hengist stared at her. “Is that supposed to be some sort of quiz?” Anne shook her head. “Brewster-brown told me that one of his ancestors invented the kaleidoscope! Isn’t that great?” “Really?” Patience asked. Anne nodded. Hengist stared at the two girls. “Hello, the kaleidoscope not the artificial heart!” He reminded them. He was ignored by the two girls. “But you must know for you always pay attention in History!” Anne told Patience. “Has anyone famous shown up yet – I mean someone we might know, or his or her descendents rather.” “No!” Patience replied. By this time Hengist was shaking his head heavily.

“I don’t know what you want from me! I know that you never did appreciate that I work on theories and not on practices. I am a scientist and you knew that very well. Why did you ask me to come!” Brewster-brown replied in his usual quiet voice. “Because there was no other choice. There was no one available at so short a notice. The students have a right to be taught.” “Very well then, at least we know what we think of each other now. I refuse to stop talking to either Miss Symmons, Miss Wood or Mr. Alret – yes, I am not blind. If you don’t want me to you will have to fire me.”

“Anyway, such a name is given from father to son – as soon as the daughter marries she will get lost…” Patience lectured her friends. “Not if she marries someone famous!” Anne threw in. “Who would do that? Anyone would know your husband and you would no longer be Miss Symmons but the wife of Mr. Famous.” “No matter whom she would marry she would never be Miss Symmons afterwards!” Hengist reminded her. “That’s not the point!” Anne told him.

“You know perfectly well that I cannot find a stand-in teacher!” Dumbledore snapped at him. “Then you will have to live with what you got.” Brewster-brown said to the headmaster. Dumbledore knew that this was true, nevertheless, this remark made him very angry. “I will be glad when you are back in your dusty study to do your research!” “And so will I.” The two men stared at each other.

“He told me that if you don’t have a famous ancestor you have to be famous yourself.” Anne reported. Hengist nodded. “That is a good idea.” Again he was ignored by the girls. “But how do you become famous?” Patience thought aloud. “That is the problem. His ancestor did many other things, too, but the one thing he is remembered for is the kaleidoscope. Isn’t it a shame?!” Patience nodded.

When Dumbledore had finally left the office Brewster-brown looked out of the window for some time. It was true he had no clue what was going on in this castle. There were secrets no one was supposed to know and riddles he could not solve. He had no idea how the students, especially the Malignant Magpies were involved in this but he feared for the worst. He knew perfectly well that the Ministry stood firmly behind Dumbledore and that anyone who did not so was on the dark side. He himself had been fighting against the dark side – in his very own way but this time he could simply not bring himself to supporting Dumbledore.

One Last Piece of Advice

It was the last lesson given by Brewster-brown. The students weren’t sure if he was to come back for the next term. All eyes rested on him as he entered silently and slowly. “Hello everybody!” He greeted them with a smile. All fingers shot into the air. “Good heavens, has the last term left you with so many questions. I don’t know where to start…” He looked around. “We’ll do it alphabetically, Mr. Alret, please.” “Will you come back next term?” Hengist uttered what anybody else wanted to know, too.

“No. I will return to my research.” “Why?” Hengist asked. Brewster-brown laughed. “I…I cannot stay.” He said. The fingers went down. The students felt that professor Brewster-brown was tortured by the thought that he wouldn’t return. He looked to the ground for a couple of seconds. “Anyway, that is no reason why we shouldn’t do any work today.” He looked up again. “What have we learned this term?”

Anne was the first to raise her hand. “Yes, Miss Anne?” “We learned that occult practices are crap!” She said and smiled. Brewster-brown returned her smile. “Yes, indeed, we did, what else?” All hands raised and everybody listed a point which they had learned. Brewster-brown was really proud of them.

“Okay, okay, okay, enough. I can see that you paid attention. You know, once I read that the dazzling mental and emotional agility which serves you so well in your studies has no bearing at all on real danger and the deviousness and callousness of lesser men.” He looked at the students. “But I think that you should – if you’re in danger – apply what you have read, and if you can only throw the book!” The lesson was over.

Seraphia’s Detection

Neither Anne nor Brewster-brown had any idea that their talk had been eavesdropped to. Roland Banks’s younger sister, Seraphia, tried to make up for Roland’s obvious lack of brains by spying for Vargas. She admired Vargas greatly – he was her hero. And Vargas knew how to make the best use of this. So he had sent Seraphia to spy on Anne Symmons. “She’s dangerous, little one, so be careful,” he warned the girl. Seraphia grinned. “I can deal with it,” she said confidently.

After witnessing the conversation about famous forefathers, Seraphia went back to Slytherin. As Anne had vanished in Gryffindor Tower, there was no way to follow her further. Besides, it would soon be curfew for the First Years, and Seraphia was not keen on receiving a detention.

When she entered the Slytherin Common Room, her brother came to her immediately. “What did she do?” he asked eagerly. “I’m to tell Ramon, not you,” Seraphia said. “But, Phia, I’m your brother, you can tell me,” Roland protested. Seraphia laughed derisively. “You don’t have the brains to make something of my information.” “You little midget, I’ll show you,” Banks hissed and grabbed Serpahia’s arm.

At that moment Vargas joined them. “Seraphia. Any news?” he enquired. “Symmons has been talking to Brewster-brown about famous ancestors,” Seraphia reported truthfully. “Ah. Does she have any?” “No, Ramon. So the professor told her to become famous herself,” Seraphia explained. Vargas laughed out loud. “So we are on the safe side – she’ll never be famous!”

But Seraphia could not forget the words of Brewster-brown. What about her forefathers? She decided to use the lunch break tomorrow to do some research. There was a book in the library, she knew, that could be of help. But she needed a signature of a teacher to get a go. Who to ask but – Professor Snape?

Seraphia found him in his office even before breakfast, and he called her in. Actually his voice did not sound inviting, but Seraphia braced herself and entered. “Yes?” Snape looked up enquiringly from the newspaper he was reading. “Sir, I want to find some information about… ehm… about my family. But I need your signature for that!” “My signature for a look into the Magical Biography? I doubt it,” Snape said amused. “Oh,” Seraphia said stupidly. “Besides,” Snape went on, “I would not sign anything that is not related to homework. Understood, Miss Banks?” Seraphia nodded. “Thank you, sir,” she muttered and left.

Outside she leaned against the wall. The Magical Biography! She had never heard about that book before, but surely Madam Pince would be able to tell her. And then – then she would be able to find out about the glory of the Banks-family!

Madam Pince indeed helped Seraphia to find the Magical Biography. The book proved to be a huge, leather-bound volume with self-filling pages. Seraphia wondered how to work it. Carefully she touched a page with her fingertip. “Be careful, girl,” warned the book. Seraphia shrank back. She waited a few moments before she took out her wand and prodded the page. “Magic does not work with me,” the book stated, and its writing had a flourish as if it was enjoying itself.

Seraphia was at a loss. She could hardly write something on the pages herself, could she? Finally she whispered: “Are there any famous members of the Banks family?” The book began to rustle and shiver, and after a moment new writing appeared:

Banks, British wizarding dynasty, important members
1. Hugo Augustus Banks, Lord Sheriff of Nottingham
2. Robert Jenkinson Banks, Earl of Tewkesbury, Minister for Magic 2.4.1783-Dec. 1783
Do you wish for more information on one of them?

Seraphia frowned. “Are you sure there are no more?” The book answered in the affirmative. Seraphia was a bit vexed, to be sure, but then… She decided to learn more about her ancestor the Sheriff, as a Minister was not so special. At least not in Seraphia’s eyes. “Please tell me more about the Sheriff of Nottingham,” she therefore ordered the book quietly. Obediently the Magical Biography set to work and the pages rustled ominously.

Then, instead of a text, two faces appeared. One was that of a blond man with a small moustache, wearing a shirt of mail apparently. The other was a dark-haired man with beaming green eyes and a mischievous smile. “Hello young lady,” he said amused and leaned forward, right out of the book. “You called for me?” Seraphia looked around frantically. Madam Pince was not at her desk, so presumably it was safe to talk a little louder – not that the man had bothered, anyway.

“If you are Hugo Augustus Banks, the sheriff of Nottingham, then yes, I called for you. You’re my ancestor,” Seraphia said breathlessly. The dark-haired man frowned. “What? That ugly brute had offspring?” “Who do you call an ugly brute?” thundered the blond man, so loud, that heads three rows in front of Seraphia turned around angrily. “You – you murderer of simple peasants!” the dark man retorted.

The blond man ignored him. “Young lady, so you are of my blood. I am Hugo, Lord Sheriff of Nottingham. And you are…?” “I am Seraphia Banks,” she told her ancestor. “How nice, Lady Seraphia, then. Ignore that simpleton right next to me, his name is Robert, but as he usually covers himself in a hooded disguise people call him Robin Hood,” Hugo informed Seraphia. “He is a petty thief,” he added. Robin snorted. “Says the felon who steals all the money from the peasants to give to the regent who keeps it for his own pleasure instead of rescuing his brother our rightful king!”

“Say that again,” Hugo bristled. Robin leaned across the frame of his picture towards Hugo, nearly touching the long nose of the other man: “You are a thief and a regicide.” “King Richard isn’t dead yet,” Hugo said bored. “Yet! Ha! Do you plan to kill him, you and your mate John Lackland?” Robin challenged. “The only head I want to see severed from its body is yours, Robin Hood,” Hugo sneered.

“Then draw!” Robin challenged fiercely. Seraphia shrieked when all of a sudden both men stood on the table in front of her, with drawn swords. Fighting, they jumped off the table to the floor. “Really, now, will you stop that!” Madam Pince hurried to solve the problem, but too late. The window facing the cloister crashed and out jumped both Robin and Hugo.

“What have you done?” shrieked Madam Pince, while the students in the library crowded at the windows and ran out into the cloister to watch the two medieval men fighting. “I just looked up my ancestors,” Seraphia said bewildered. “Not you – you,” the librarian snapped, pointing accusingly at the book. The pages rustled and there was a faint line saying I just did what I was requested to do appearing on the page. “Oh, nonsense,” said Madam Pince furiously. “You knew what would happen. You did not have to let them both appear. Hugo Banks would have been quite sufficient. Well,” she sighed, took the book and looked sternly at it, “that means you’re back in the Restricted Section.” And despite the protesting dribble of ink that began to soil her hands, the librarian carried the Magical Biography to the Restricted Section. Seraphia could only stand and stare. Then the doors flew open and there stood a boy shouting: “Come and see what’s on in the Great Hall!” In a rush, everyone tried to be first to see what was going on.

Seraphia hesitated, then ran after the others. The sound of a clanking of armour greeted her as soon as she stood in the crowded Entrance Hall. The huge armours guarding the doors to the Great Hall lay shattered on the floor, and the left one’s helmet was constantly repeating: “This is unbearable, this is unbearable.” Shrieks and laughter came from the Great Hall, where surely some students would be sitting and discussing their homework. And indeed, there were, as Seraphia saw once she had pushed her way to get a better view. On top of the teachers’ table there stood Hugo and Robin, fighting without caring for the goblets they set flying.

“What is this commotion all about?” asked a harsh voice. The crowd of students parted to let Filch the caretaker get a look at the fight. “Now, really,” he gasped. Seraphia blushed so deeply that she had to duck to hide from the caretaker’s suspicious glare. “You there – stop it!” Filch yelled. It did not help. Hugo gave the merest of glances to the man and jumped off the table. Robin followed, and Hugo set off at a run, pushing ruthlessly past the students, sending a first-year into the heap of armour on the floor. Robin helped her up. “Blame it on this idiot,” he said consolingly and raced after the Sheriff of Nottingham.

“Get this, you peasant-lover,” Hugo yelled and tossed down a bunch of chalk, covering Robin and students alike in white dust. “Stop it!” Filch shouted helplessly. Miraculously no teacher was there. “What’s this? Have we started a party?” Brian Cullen asked, leaning precariously far over the banister to get a better look. Anne gently pulled him back. “Maybe,” she said gleefully, then ducked just in time to avoid a pitcher filled with water flying downstairs. Patience jumped out of the way of black-haired Robin. “My pardon, lady,” he called over his shoulder and Patience waved at him. “Who are they? I’ve never seen them before,” she said. Mike shrugged. “Who cares?” “Patience – they’re in the broom cabinet!” yelled a voice from upstairs. Hengist and Patience glanced at each other and started to run upstairs. There was the Gryffindor Quidditch team valiantly defending the door to the cupboard that held the precious brooms. ”You get off here,” Patience said in her sternest voice – to no avail. “Impedimenta!” Hengist yelled. It did not help, it only stopped Oliver in mid-push and sent him to the floor.

“Strange – spells go through them,” Anne commented. “Yes. Maybe they’re ghosts?” Hengist guessed, helping Oliver up and apologizing. “No. No, definitely not,” said Nearly Headless Nick who came gliding to them in obvious concern. “They are creatures from the past, sent here by a mistake of the Magical Biography,” the Gryffindor house ghost explained. “What?” Brian asked bewildered, craning his neck to watch the fighting men move further upstairs. “They are images of their past selves, obviously with the same hatred still burning them up,” Nick sighed.

“WOW!” Mike exclaimed and pointed upwards. There was Robin swinging on the large chandelier that usually lit the staircase, and bombarding Hugo with the candles – burning candles. Little flames began to show up on the floor but went out again, as the marble did not feed them. “Lucky there are no carpets,” Patience grinned. “How will he get down there again?” Hengist wondered. “Dunno. Jump?” Anne suggested.

The answer was: Swing so far that he could reach the banister on the other side. Hugo cursed and sat down on his banister to slide down and reach Robin fast enough to ”finally finish that poor men’s hope for the rope” off. “I wonder who set them free – that one’s gonna be in trouble,” Oliver wisely remarked. “I wish it was a Slytherin,” Patience giggled. At that moment Seraphia came hurrying upstairs. “Stop, or you’ll be hurt, Miss Banks,” Nick kindly advise her. “I need to stop them,” Seraphia panted desperately. Anne grabbed her elbow.

“Wait a second, midget – what do you mean, you have to stop them?” she asked suspiciously. “He’s my ancestor,” Seraphia said and pointed at Hugo who was fiercely brandishing his sword against Robin, his movements mimicked by Sir Cadogan who had come to watch the fight to learn some new tricks. Patience frowned. “Hang on, did you set them free?” The other Gryffindors circled around Anne and Seraphia, who looked like a trapped rabbit. “Y… Yes,” she stammered and burst into tears. “Trust a Banks to make a mess,” Hengist laughed. “Cheer up – we’ll call McGonagall and everything’s be sorted out in a trice,” Patience tried to console Roland’s sister. “I don’t need to be saved by you,” Seraphia spat arrogantly. “Fine,” Patience retorted and shrugged carelessly.

Mike had left to fetch McGonagall. Soon the Deputy Headmistress was there, accompanied by the headmaster himself. Dumbledore shook his head. “Haven’t I told Irma to keep the book under control? She said it was a first-year she gave it to.” Then he raised his voice: “Hugo, Robin, go back to your rest!” Both Sheriff and outlaw stared down. “Not this time – I’m finishing him off,” Hugo grimly called down and jumped into the classroom Robin had just vanished into. The following crash told the spectators that the blackboard had had to give way and crashed to the floor.

“Now that’s enough,” McGonagall said decidedly and strode forward, wand in hand. “Spells go through them,” Anne hurried to say. Dumbledore smiled at her. “Thank you, Miss Symmons.” Anne nodded curtly, and they all watched and listened avidly for what was to come. A new crash indicated that a table had broken, and then the breaking of glass seemed to say that a window was now gone as well. “Shall we go closer?” Hengist asked uncertainly. “No,” Patience said. “Yes,” Anne said at the same moment.

Oliver looked from his sister to their friends. “We should go,” he said seriously. “Maybe the teachers might need help.” “From you?” Brian asked, but Patience gave him such an angry glance that he shut up quickly. They went nearer, tentatively, carefully, trying not to make too much noise. The other students who were by now crowding on the landing watched them awestruck. “On the count of three we all go in there and block the windows and entrance,” Anne hissed. “One – two …” They had barely a second to jump aside when Robin and Hugo, without their swords, ran as if hell was chasing them downstairs. “Where are they going?” Mike yelled confused. “Stop them!” Oliver called. “NO!” thundered Dumbledore. “They are going back – to the library, into the book,” he added. The students rushed to the windows, whose panes began to creak ominously under the pressure of dozens of heads and hands.

“And now to you, Miss Banks – what did you think of letting them talk for such a long time?” Dumbledore asked Seraphia who was standing there, pale-faced and trembling. Vargas, Banks and Cook had fought their way to the front, but neither boy raised so much as a finger to come to the girl’s help. The Magpies watched the Slytherin trio with barely concealed dislike. “It wasn’t her fault,” Patience finally spoke up when the tension was unbearable. Seraphia tossed back her head, clearly determined not to be defended by the enemies of her brother and his friends. “I was thinking it would be funny to set them free,” Seraphia said clearly.

It made the Magpies, Oliver, Brian and Mike stare in amazement. That was a totally different story than what Seraphia had revealed before. “That was what I did,” she said and looked so stubborn that there was clearly no use in intervening. Anne nevertheless tried: “But you couldn’t have known what happened! It was a mistake!” McGonagall listened and just watched, as did Dumbledore. “I told them to cause havoc,” Seraphia said acidly. “Very well, then,” Dumbledore spoke. “As you seem so keen to get a punishment for something you haven’t done, and as you seem so desperate to get the blame for what Hugo and Robin did, we shall obey.” He nodded to McGonagall, then gave the Slytherin trio a very long look that made them cringe uncomfortably and went away. “Professor, you mustn’t punish her,” Hengist tried to help Seraphia. “Shut up, mudblood,” Seraphia hissed. There was an intake of breath from almost everyone present. “Right, you stupid midget, then get a punishment,” Anne spat and she and Patience each took one of Hengist’s arms and marched away.

“You’re so stupid, that must be running in the family,” Mike said. “Mr Flatley!” McGonagall reprimanded him sharply. “Sorry, but what’s true is true,” Mike retorted, shaking his head. “Please give me a summary of the chapter on transfiguring guinea pigs,” McGonagall replied calmly. Mike shrugged and walked off, followed by Oliver and Brian.

“As to you, Miss Banks, I shall advise your head of house to inform your parents of your misbehaviour. In addition, you will help Mr Filch to clean up the mess your creatures have caused, and you shall also have to do a detention every night for the following fortnight,” McGonagall informed the crushed Seraphia. “That is all. You may all go back to your own business,” McGonagall then addressed the crowd who slowly dispersed, reluctantly leaving and trying to get a glimpse of the little Slytherin First-year who had done such a damage.

McGonagall shook her head. “Why didn’t you accept the help given to you?” she asked Seraphia. The girl stared at her. “I don’t take help from the likes of them,” she said haughtily. “That, Miss Banks, earns you an additional detention-night with me,” McGonagall smoothly replied and walked away, stopping next to the Slytherin trio. “As to you, I should have thought you had the guts to speak up for your ardent follower – your little sister, Banks!” she said reproachfully. “You’ve just no backbone,” she added coldly and walked away.

Vargas looked at Seraphia. “It was very brave of you to take the blame and not succumb to them do-gooders,” he said bracingly. It was exactly the thing Seraphia had wanted to hear. She beamed. “You’re not angry?” she asked timidly. “No, Phia, we are not angry. We’re really proud of you. Hugo would be, too, I am sure,” Vargas warmly said and placed his arm around Seraphia’s shoulders. “And now we shall see to it that Professor Snape doesn’t write to your parents.”

Unfortunately for Seraphia and Roland, Snape did not think of not writing. The letter had been very direct and to the point, and the Banks’ were not pleased to hear of the behaviour of their children. Consequently they wrote a very angry letter in return. Seraphia was so shocked that she lost a bit of her arrogance – maybe this was also due to the fact that Filch used her as his personal slave for cleaning all the smaller edges, and the detentions took up a lot of time that Seraphia would have needed for her homework. After the two weeks had passed, there was so much she had to do to catch up with her classmates she practically had no time to think of mischief – which was exactly what the teachers had planned at.

“A brilliant idea – pity it doesn’t work with the Magpies,” Dicket grinned. “Well, they are clever, and no doubt of that,” Sprout agreed comfortably. Snape snorted. “And you can always count on the members of the Banks-family to need to put more effort into scraping a pass than others.” All the teachers chuckled and were very pleased with themselves.

O.W.L.s

By the end of the year the Malignant Magpies had no longer time to care much about Quidditch or getting rid of Mungus. They had to prepare to take their O.W.L.s, which meant loads of work. “Not that we have had more homework since last year”, Patience sighed. Oliver looked through his sister’s notes. “Just how are you going to remember all this? This must be everything you’ve done so far!”, he marvelled. “Exactly. Verres, would you mind leaving me alone? Go to your friends, will you?” Oliver grimaced but went away. Patience took her star charts and began to learn the various combination by heart. “Funny”, she muttered. “What is funny?”, Anne asked and dropped a pile of books on the table, flattening some parchments. “This combination here”, Patience answered distractedly, shoving the books to a free space.

Anne looked at the chart. “I don’t see anything but some dots”, she confessed. “See the moon? It’s full moon, and I’m about to get into trouble according to this combination. The thing is, I never ever had a single chart made for me where I didn’t get into trouble around full moon!” Patience ruffled her hair. “You need a walk”, Anne decided. Patience tried to grab some notes to learn them while walking but Anne made them quickly fly back to the table. “You won’t bury your nose into these outside. The sun is shining, so come on!” “Tell me, when do you prepare yourself for the exams?”, Patience inquired jokingly. Anne rolled her eyes. “I’m already more often in the library. I have piles of books!” “Yeah, and have you ever looked into them?”, Patience plucked a daisy and began to pluck its leaves. “Tell you what, I’m going to ask you about History.” Anne shuddered.

“Anne! History is one of our subjects, and if you want to have good O.W.L.s, then…” “I see, I see, go on!”, Anne gave up. “Why were the medieval witch hunts completely useless?” “Because they never caught any real witches or wizards and because the Muggle monks were transformed into toads.” “Aw, Anne! The first part is okay, but the monks were not transformed! Okay, let’s try it with Potions. If you add daffodil roots, cinnamon and the liver of a toad, what do you get?” “Something really disgusting?” Patience grew exasperated by now. “You get a kind of verity potion, not really strong but strong enough to reveal some lies.” Her voice was sharper than usual. “Herbology”, she said. Ann raised her hands. “No, please! I hope I’m asked only theoretical things because the plant is most probably going to die!” “Unless it’s snap-dragons!” They both laughed and continued their walk to the lake. “Maybe they will ask us what is in this lake”, Anne guessed. “In Defence Against the Dark Arts? Well, just how do you think they’ll manage that? Who is going to put the task? All four house-teachers and Brewster-brown?” Patience frowned, thinking of being examined by Snape both in Potions and in Defence Against the Dark Arts. “I always thought that the examiners were sent from the Ministry,” she said. “And what is even worse we only got two weeks left!” And Patience was back to rehearsing the subjects.

Professor McGonagall handed out the examination timetables and details of the procedures during Transfiguration. Hengist looked at the timetable and sighed. It looked a very tight schedule indeed. “As you see you will have two weeks to do your exams. In the morning you will have to sit the theory papers, in the afternoon do the practice. Of course, the practical Astronomy exam will take place at night.” In a full moon night, as Patience pointed out to Anne in a whisper. McGonagall frowned at them, then went on: “You won’t be able to cheat, thanks to the most stringent anti-cheating charms on the papers. No Auto-Answer Quills, Remembralls, Detachable Cribbing Cuffs and Self-Correcting Ink are allowed. I hope you at least are intelligent enough not to try and cheat. In every year there seems to be someone stupid enough to try,” McGonagall told them. Patience and Anne both looked at John King who seemed the likeliest candidate for this and exchanged a smile. Hengist looked around as if wanting to tell everyone that he would personally see to it no Gryffindor cheated. “He’s training to become prefect once,” Mike muttered and made Brian laugh out loud. “Mr Cullen, this is not amusing at all,” McGonagall promptly scolded him. “Sorry, professor,” Brian said and tried to keep his face straight, but the thought of Hengist becoming prefect was just too hilarious. “I want you all to do your very best – remember that your results also reflect the teachers’ work. Good luck to you all.” She smiled at the class, but she got only very strained smiles in return. Everyone’s stomach had dropped as they realized there were only a few days that separated them from the dreaded exams.

On Sunday evening, all the Fifth Years were found with their noses buried in books. Oliver sat on the windowsill, staring down into the pouring rain. “At least you won’t miss anything in that weather,” he tried to console his sister. “Shut up,” Patience snapped. “I’m trying to learn!” “And you are sure you don’t want to see the examiners?” Oliver slyly asked. He was pushed off the windowsill at once, and several people tried to look out at the same time. Several very old witches and wizards were walking up to the entrance, accompanied by Dumbledore. “Now I’m sick,” Catherine declared. “I don’t want it to become Monday,” Connor muttered. Patience groaned. “I wish the two weeks were already over!”

After breakfast on Monday, the Fifth- and Seventh-Years waited for the tables in the Great Hall to be rearranged. Their first exam was Herbology. Everyone found a seat, far away from everyone else. At the head of the Hall sat Professor McGonagall, who waited for the students to become quiet. “You may begin,” she then said and turned over an enormous hourglass on the desk beside her. Anne noticed with relief that there were also spare quills, ink and parchment available at McGonagall’s desk. Professor Sprout made them write an essay about the various uses of Mandrakes. In the afternoon, the fifth years filed out to the greenhouses. They had to wait until they were called in for their exam. Hengist, having to go first of them all, came back with a singed robe and several bad scratches in his face and on his hands. “I passed, though. Sprout said I should consult Madam Pomfrey, see you later. Good luck!” “I knew it would be snap-dragons”, Patience moaned. Anne looked pale. To prove they could handle magic plants Sprout had decided to make them put the snap-dragons into new pots. Patience thought that was only to give Anne a chance, and in fact Anne was the only one who wasn’t severely hurt in one or the other way. Patience took a deep breath and went inside. “Hello Miss Wood. Would you be so kind to put this snap-dragon into a new pot?”, Sprout asked her kindly. Patience put on her dragon-hide gloves and looked at the plant. It seemed to be a very vicious one. “There’s only this one left”, Sprout explained. Even before Patience could touch the snap-dragon it began to try to scratch her. But that was something the girl was pretty much used to thanks to Bethesda. “Will you hold still?”, Patience said in a soft voice. Funny, it seemed to work! The snap-dragon stopped scratching and began to listen. Professor Sprout was scribbling something down. Talking to the plant, Patience carefully took it out of its pot and put it into the new one, adding some new dirt. “Now you are comfortable again, aren’t you?”, she asked and even patted the snap-dragon who had not tried to burn her or scratch her again. Sprout looked stunned. “How did you do that?”, she asked carefully. “That was excellent, Miss Wood, but how did you do that?” Patience shrugged. “It seemed to listen to my voice”, she answered. Sprout seemed to have remembered something but said nothing else. When Patience came out, Anne stared at her friend. “No burns, no scratches?”, she asked incredulously. Patience shook her head. It was strange, that was true, but for today Patience was only happy to have passed her exam in Herbology.

Divination on Tuesday wasn’t completely different in the procedure. In the written exam, they had to interpret a star chart and make a life time horoscope. Most of the class simply guessed – as always. Knowing Trelawney would like the horoscopes better when they were full of terrors, they all had invented catastrophes to come. The practical exam was divided into three parts: Crystal Gazing, Tea Leaves and Palmistry. Hengist groaned. “And I’m to be first! I’m sure I won’t see anything – and I’ve run out of catastrophes for today!” Patience tried to console him as far as possible, though she herself was shivering with nerves again. “I hate my name!”, she said to one of the pictures. It stared blankly back. “Why do I have to be so late in the alphabet?”

As usual, Patience had to wait and look at the more or less happy faces of her fellow students. Hengist stayed with her after his exam. He said he had been told not to say a word about the exam. “I could make up a verity potion”, Patience said, trying desperately to appear normal. Finally, Trelawney called her upstairs. “Wish me luck”, she said with a trembling voice and climbed the ladder. “Sit down, dear”, Trelawney told her. “We will begin with Palmistry.” Patience thought for one wild moment she should read Trelawney’s or one of the examiners’ palms, but she had provided a test object for her students.

“I hope no one has told you what awaits you”, the professor said, scanning Patience’s face with a much more open glance than usual. Patience shook her head. Her voice, she was sure, would have certainly failed her. Out of the shadows came – Professor Dumbledore himself! He smiled down at her and extended his right hand. Patience swallowed hard. What should she do? She couldn’t make up horrible predictions for Dumbledore – not that it wouldn’t have amused him, but it would reveal her tactics of the last two years. “Have no fear”, the headmaster consoled her. “It is a great favour”, Trelawney said sharply. Dumbledore frowned slightly. It seemed he wanted to stop Trelawney from saying too much. “Now, Miss Wood, what do you see?” Patience bent over Dumbledore’s lean hand with the long fingers.

It looked old, yes, but strong. And something very reassuring was there. Patience felt better. She took a deep breath and tried to remember what she had learned. “Your lifeline is extraordinarily long”, she began. Dumbledore remained absolutely calm, neither moved nor spoke. Trelawney sat behind Patience and made notes. The perfumed fire made Patience dizzy, but oddly she felt for the first time it helped her concentrate on the arts of Divination. She told Dumbledore he would get a cold next month and that something darker was there as well.

At that point, Dumbledore withdrew his hand gently and looked at Trelawney. “Sybil, I think this is sufficient, don’t you?” Patience was not sure if she had offended him, but his smile told her it was okay. “Now tea leaves, if you please. Take your time, I will have to talk to Professor Dumbledore for a second.” Patience bent over her tea leaves and tried to make out shapes. Trelawney and Dumbledore went out. They did not know that Hengist Alret was at the foot of the ladder waiting for Patience.

“She has been right”, Trelawney said. “And I know she has made things up so far. Only when the full moon rises she is able to see, and she always sees Dark things.” Dumbledore nodded. “Her abilities indeed grow at full moon. We must hope she doesn’t notice that too early. It is most unfortunate that this year the exams take place at full moon. Miss Wood will have no problems at all with certain classes. Professor Sprout told me she handled a vicious snap-dragon without the least problem.”

Hengist sneezed suddenly and could have cursed himself. Dumbledore was down in an instant, much faster than anyone would have thought the old man could be. “Hengist Alret! I should have guessed it”, Dumbledore smiled warmly. Hengist went brick red and tried to apologize. “There’s no need to”, Dumbledore said. “You will of course never tell Miss Wood what you have heard. If you do not follow this order, I will have to use a Memory Charm both on you and on Miss Wood.” Hengist thought briefly of the other exams and decided it would be unwise to get a Memory Charm. He had completely forgotten that Memory Charms could be used to erase one memory precisely without damaging the rest.

Dumbledore nodded. “Your friend Miss Wood will be here soon”, he said and vanished through the door. Trelawney went to Patience again. “I think I see some signs”, Patience told her and began to explain her thoughts. Crystal Gazing was the last task. The orb was all misty. And then… “It’s this man with the turban again!”, Patience exclaimed horrified. “He’s here, at Hogwarts, and he’s jinxing something!” Trelawney quickly told her the exam was over and put the orb away. To see too much would be fatal, she feared. Patience had passed and was allowed to walk downstairs again.

The next day brought the exams in Potions (very nasty and difficult indeed, but miraculously no one failed), Thursday Muggle Studies (interpreting the life of the Muggle family) and Friday Care of Magical Creatures. Kettleburn made them only write an essay on werewolves and vampires, but had nothing practical prepared for them. The lack of that was made up by the examiners. Professor Tofty lead Hengist into the Forbidden Forest and told him to identify a Knarl hidden among a dozen hedgehogs, demonstrate the handling of a Bowtruckle (which of course left Hengist severely scratched), feed and clean a Fire Crab (Hengist nearly set his robes on fire but dodged quickly enough) and choose a diet for a sick unicorn. After all, Hengist thought, this was better than Potions. It had to be. Anne, on the contrary, reappeared from her Care of Magical Creatures exam with a broad smile. “That was easy,” she said lightly. Patience also had to do Ancient Runes, which was a translation Patience called easy afterwards. “Next week, we’ll have our last exams”, Hengist said thoughtfully. “Transfiguration, Charms, Flying and Defence Against the Dark Arts.” Anne sighed. “I don’t care about Charms, that one will be easy. McGonagall is going to be hard, I think. But, well, as long as we don’t know who examines us…” They all thought of another exam under the supervision of Snape. “Really horrible”, Patience shuddered.

Anne was proved right. Flitwick asked nothing they had not prepared. Even the practical exam (performing the volo-curse) was no problem at all. Patience made Anne like Quidditch again. Funny. McGonagall told them to transfigure a table into a pig. Ghewyn complained about her pig still having a kind of ‘wooden’ look about it. Hengist snorted. “That’s better than having one leg still looking like a curved wooden table leg!”, he said. “That didn’t happen?”, Patience whispered. Hengist nodded sadly. “It did.” They were by now all waiting for their exams in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hengist, as always, was first to enter. When he came back he was shaking with laughter. “No, I won’t tell you, you have to see for yourselves!” Patience and Anne exchanged a puzzled glance.

What was waiting for them in the classroom? When Anne came out she also refused to give further information. Patience was next – and last of the Magpies. She felt very nervous, feeling sure she had missed many things in the written exam. It would have been a lot better if there had been Brewster-brown to examine her, but she had to be content with Professor Tofty. “My dear, will you perform some defensive spells and counter-jinxes for me?” the ancient wizard kindly asked. Patience was deeply relieved. If there was one thing in which she was good, it was jinxes. Thanks to her brother and their constant battle at home she knew loads of them. Tofty seemed delighted.

After their very last exam, the Fifth Years decided to relax. “Hey, Anne. You didn’t mention Snape the last couple of weeks – I mean you were not accusing him of anything and you didn’t stare like he was your hero...I don’t want to sound curious but...?” “I’m over with that phase.” Anne replied to Patience’s question. “Was ridiculous anyway.” Anne added. “But what about Greg?” Hengist wanted to know. “Well, it’s good to have a spy in Slytherin, don’t you think so?” She said in a whisper. “And it’s good to have someone to make Snape furious with.” Patience added mockingly. Anne shrugged. “I’d call that a positive side-effect. Nothing wanted but gladly taken.” Anne explained with an evil smile on her face. Hengist grinned. “I’d have explained it the other way round.” He remarked.

Anne didn’t look at him. A cushion hit Hengist hard in the back and he knew he shouldn’t have said that. “Let’s change topics.” Patience suggested. “It’s almost the end of the term. Anne I’m curious where will you spend your next holidays?” Patience asked. Hengist nodded. He didn’t know too much about Anne’s past holidays but from the things that Patience had indicated Anne had been to a lot of magical and interesting places so far. Anne blushed a little. “Well, don’t think I want to make a good impression on Dicket and please don’t tell anyone – as usual.” Anne started. Patience and Hengist got very tensed with suspense by this introduction. Both nodded. “All right.” Anne leaned forward and started to whisper. “You know that I really like muggle studies and muggles. I decided to spent the next holidays on a farm. In Southern Germany to be precise. There are big mountains and a big lake. There are cows, pigs, sheep and hens, of course dogs and cats as well. And there are muggles – no magic. Isn’t that fantastic?” Anne asked.

Patience and Hengist weren’t too sure if Anne was serious about this. “Yeah, you’re speechless, of course.” Anne shrugged and went down and out to the little lake. Hengist watched her sitting at its shore. “You think she was honest?” He asked. Patience looked out of the window as well. “She loves nature and animals. And it’s true she really enjoys muggle studies. Why not. Anne on a farm I can hardly imagine that though.” Patience sighed. It was harder for witches and wizards to believe that one of them planned a trip to the muggle world than that they went to hunt Haggis.

The last week was free of classes. Thinking of ways to make the Slytherins feel angry or worse was the favourite occupation of the Malignant Magpies. Some of their plans even came to life. They had tremendous fun with watching their opposing trio of Banks, Vargas and Cook slide on a completely normal-looking floor. Nothing was wrong with the floor, as an angry Filch told them. Yet they slipped almost with every step as if the floor was covered in thick ice. In fact their shoes were bewitched. It had been Hengist’s idea, and Anne’s work to find the spell. They even thought about using it on Snape, but refrained from doing so considering Snape’s foul mood. “Must be because no one of us Gryffindors failed”, Hengist supposed. “That is, if we ever get to know the results”, he complained. “Oh, c’mon, Hengist, you know the letters will arrive in June”, Patience soothed him.

The end-of-the-year-feast took place in a green and silver decorated Great Hall, for Slytherin had again won the House Cup. “A shame”, Hugh Nolan sighed. For him, school was over with this evening. “To Hogwarts, my great Quidditch team and our faithful commentator!”, he toasted and the whole Gryffindor table raised their goblets. “To Hugh Nolan, our genius in every Quidditch position”, Patience answered the toast. Hugh was cheered by the whole table. “And to Oliver Wood, our new team captain!”, the voice of Professor McGonagall said.

They all looked at their House Teacher. Oliver almost dropped his goblet, which was saved by Percy Weasley next to him. “Yes, Wood, your talent in the Quidditch pitch impressed me. You are liked by your team colleagues, and they all agreed to give you a chance, young as you are.” “Thank you, all of you”, Oliver said in a deeply grateful voice. Patience got up and went to him. She embraced her brother. Hugh laughed. “Don’t embarrass our captain!”, he joked, and the tension was broken by laughter.

It was a wonderful evening. When Hagrid was seeing them off at the station, he told Oliver to practise Quidditch properly in the holidays. Patience, Hengist and Anne found an empty compartment and passed the time with playing Wizard’s chess, letting off Filibuster’s firework and frightening Vargas away with a grown Mungus. Hengist grinned. “Just a bit more and he would have busted”, he said thoughtfully, watching Mungus shrink again. “You could have asked Hagrid to take him”, Patience reminded him. “Yeah, but Grandma will visit us and she will be deeply upset not to see Mungus around!”

In London, the Munchkins and the Woods were waiting for their daughters. “Quite well done, Anne!”, Frank said coolly and dragged his daughter away as usual. Anne had taken leave properly already aboard the Hogwarts Express. Hengist waved at his family and promised Patience to stay in contact via owl. Oliver told his parents about his nomination as Quidditch team captain. “Wonderful, that’s my son!”, Rupert boasted.

Before going to her parents, Patience walked over to Hugh Nolan. She extended her hand. “Bye, Hugh. Good luck for whatever you are going to do now!” Hugh smiled and embraced her. “I’ll miss you all, Patience, believe me. Have fun at Hogwarts – and be a good Gryffindor commentator!” Patience promised that at once. Waving at her classmates Mike and Brian she finally joined her family and embraced her mother. “And that’s my daughter, who has done very well”, her mother smiled. They walked off, talking about the last year at Hogwarts.

-THE END-

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Disclaimer: All names, characters and places are property of J.K. Rowling and Warner bros., except of those not found in the "Harry Potter" books and movies which belong to Ulrike Friedrich and Kirsten Seelbach. No financial and/or commercial gain is intended.