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Making History

the seventh year at Hogwarts

List of content

Holidays at Alberbury
Montrose versus Puddlemere
At Petronella Wood's
Preparing for School
The Last Sorting
Who Bewitched The Hat?
Say It With Flowers
Chocolate Frog Cards
My Vegetable Love
Closed Matters
Apparating - the Second Attempt
Getting To Know You
Anne's Detentions
Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus
Making History
Useful Relations
It's the Season to be Jolly...
A Confession
The Worm Who Came
The Quidditch Final
Another Nightly Visit in the Library
Viper's Grass
Riddles About Ramon
A Wedding
Men Are Trouble
Wizard's Duel
Catching Moonbeams in the Dark
Choosing A Profession
NEW! Are You Game? NEW!
Going to a Ball
A Students' Guide to Hogwarts
Leaving With A Bang
NEW! Uncomfortable Truths NEW!
The Prom Ball
An Idea
Driver's License

Holidays at Alberbury

This summer had to be simply wonderful, Patience Wood decided when she got up the day after the holidays had started. Only yesterday she had arrived at King’s Cross Station, and today her best friend Anne Symmons would arrive to spend the whole holidays with Patience and her family!

Speaking of that family: Her father was already up and bustling through the kitchen making breakfast, her mother was judging by the sound drying her hair in the bathroom, her cat was out in the garden and her younger brother still asleep. Patience loved the country house at Alberbury in the morning. “Morning, dad!”, she said joyfully, leaning herself out of the kitchen window to watch the garden. Rupert, waving his wand to fill milk into a jug, joined her. “Call Bethesda in, please”, he said lowly.

Patience pulled a face, but obeyed reluctantly. Bethesda, who was just chasing a gnome through the flower bed (Patience sighed, she knew it would be her who would be told to clean up that mess), came in fast. “You must be hungry, poor Bethesda”, Patience said when the cat speedily advanced her food. “Why poor?”, Rupert asked amused. “She is a highly bred cat with good manners, a nice home and a gentle mistress!” “But, dad! She isn’t allowed to go out because of the spoiled brat of the neighbour’s! And that on a sunny day like that!”, Patience complained. “And she doesn’t like Anne, either!” “Well, Helena, that is your problem, isn’t it? You invited your friend. But you’re right, maybe we should give Bethesda to Grandma?” Rupert looked at his daughter questioningly.

Old Mrs Wood lived at Shrewsbury, which wasn’t far away, but they would anyway be able to reach in seconds thanks to the Floo Powder Network. “Yes”, Patience said slowly. Joan entered the kitchen. “Good morning, Rupert, Helena, Bethesda!”, she wished. “Why so upset, dear?”, she then asked her daughter. “Because Bethesda will have to stay at Grandma’s for these holidays”, Patience sighed. Rupert nodded encouragingly. “You may visit her any time. I thought you wanted to go to Shrewsbury for a week or so?” “A week at grandma’s? With Anne and Hengist?”, Patience asked excitedly. “And with Oliver, mind!”, Joan threw in laughingly. Patience shrugged. She often argued with Oliver but on the whole they got along pretty well.

“I have to go up to Shrewsbury anyway today”, Rupert said, draining his coffee. “I’ll take Bethesda to grandma.” Patience thanked Rupert. Joan grinned. “Have you already made the bed for Anne?”, she enquired. “Oh!”, Patience exclaimed and ran upstairs, making as much noise as possible. Oliver’s head poked out of his door. “Is there an elephant loose in the house?”, he asked sleepily. Patience didn’t listen or else a cushion fight would have commenced. Patience made some teddies and books fly on various shelves magically. She wondered how she should get along the muggle way. How boring, having to put everything in its place manually!

By now she was finished and went to the staircase again. “Mum!”, she called down. Oliver looked out again, this time considerably much more awake and annoyed. “Can’t you go down or is your voice again sonored?”, he asked furiously. “You keep on lying in bed, Verres, and keep out of my way!”, Patience shot back. Joan sighed. “I thought by now you would both be old enough not to quarrel anymore!” “I fear we’ll never be old enough for that”, Patience laughed. “Mum, where is the other mattress?” “In the cupboard under the stairs, of course!”, her mother answered. “Wait, I’ll get it out. Unless you want to have to kill some spiders, you should stay upstairs.”

Patience went back into her room. She waved at her father who was leaving the house and going over to his car (for otherwise the Muggle neighbours would have wondered what Rupert Wood did) with Bethesda in his arms. Joan bustled in the cupboard under the stairs and finally came up with a big, cosy mattress. “Thank you, mum!”, Patience beamed. “You’re welcome, Helena, just see you’re finished by noon, will you?” Then Joan turned to Oliver to tell him he should get dressed and washed and have breakfast for she did not want to have the toast and butter stand on the table for hours. “We don’t have house elves here, mind!”, she joked.

Oliver yawned accusingly, but slowly went to the bathroom. Patience, her head poking around her doorframe, pointed her wand at him and whispered “Tarantallegra!” Oliver’s legs instantly began to dance. But before he could yell for his mother his sister had already finished the charm and was heard to be busy moving her bed and chairs around the room – by magic, of course. Suddenly the wailing voice of a child caught her attention. Letting the pile of books drop (which caused Joan to yell her name from the kitchen), Patience hurried to the window.

So that was the brat she had to give Bethesda away for! He was tall for his age, pale and rather fat. His brown hair looked greasy and uncombed, and he was being chased by a nanny in aprons. Patience watched the chase interested. “Algie!”, the nanny cried exasperated. “Algie, come here!” “Mum!”, the child wailed at once. “Mum, Mary-Ann doesn’t call me master!” The nanny looked ready to yell at the boy, and in fact Patience thought that was what that boy needed dearly. Mrs St John opened a window. Patience burst into laughter seeing her. She still had her curlers in her artificially blonde hair. She was, well, painted. There was no decent make-up, but flashy colours. Even though Patience’s window was relatively far away she could distinguish every colour clearly. And there was thick gold glistening around her throat.

“Nice new neighbours”, Oliver commented who had been summoned by Patience’s laughter. “Sorry for jinxing you”, his sister told him good-humouredly. Oliver only nodded. “That’s Algernon?”, he asked. “Yep. And he’s a real spoiled brat, believe me,. That poor Mary-Ann has no easy job with him!” They watched the proceedings together. Mary-Ann was told off for not behaving correctly. Algernon was caught and brought back into the house, mostly because he was coughing and sneezing violently. And a second later someone knocked imperiously at the Wood’s door.

A glance and both Wood children were at the top of the stairs, leaning over the banister. It was Mary-Ann, the nanny, blushing and excusing herself in a low voice for what was to come. Then she straightened up and said in a loud, harsh voice: “You haven’t kept you cat in, it must have come over to our garden and little Algie is ill now!” Joan stared at her. “Oh. I’m sorry. The cat was in, as far as I know. Patience!”, she called. Patience descended and tried to hide her amusement. “This is Mary-Ann Helstone, the neighbour’s nurse. My daughter Patience”, Joan introduced them. “Bethesda is my cat, and she has been in since we arrived here yesterday”, Patience friendly explained. Mary-Ann nodded. “No doubt that little boy has cultivated a new allergic reaction”, she sighed, excused herself again and walked back home.

 Anne arrived in due time just before noon. She was greeted very enthusiastically by Patience who was dying to tell her the proceedings at the neighbour’s. Anne was keen to see that for herself. After watching for some time from Patience’s window, she grinned broadly. “We should do something. Do we have some sweets here?” “Of course we have, but I guess you’re talking about magical sweets. Unfortunately, we’ve run pretty low. But next time we’re at Shrewsbury I’m going to buy some”, Patience promised. The girls giggled in anticipation of the coming fun.

“Hengist will arrive in two weeks, we will spend a week at my grandmother’s, and then we could start a little firework”, Patience thought aloud. “Wonderful”, Anne agreed. “I like your house, really, it’s so nice and small. Where’s your father?” “He’s at Shrewsbury, in the archive. I think he’s working on the siege of Shrewsbury in the twelfth century.” Anne shook her head. “How can one work with old documents and be happy? I mean, don’t the Muggles get suspicious when he’s constantly researching witches and wizards?” “No, not really, There are Muggle historians doing exactly the same, like Brian Levack”, Patience earnestly answered. They began to unpack Anne’s luggage.

The first few days passed uneventfully. It seemed as if Algie had caught a severe cold and had to stay inside. In addition to that it started to rain heavily which prevented excursions in the surroundings. So Anne, Oliver and Patience spent their days with playing Exploding Snap, Wizard’s Chess and planning new tricks.

On a particularly nasty Thursday, Rupert Wood came upstairs to his daughter’s room. Oliver was listening to the Wizarding Wireless in his room, and Rupert sighed. “And they call this music!” He knocked at the door. “Come in!”, Patience’s voice invited him. She sounded relieved. Rupert grinned seeing the cause: she was again losing against Anne in Wizard’s Chess. “I’ve got something to cheer you all up. Maybe we should call Verres?” “What is it?”, Patience asked eagerly. Anne smiled about her.

“I’ve got tickets for a Quidditch match”, Rupert revealed. Anne’s smile fell out of her face. Quidditch! And that should cheer her up? But her friend’s face was all sunshine. Rupert laughed when she embraced him. “Helena, Helena, it’s okay!” “Who’s playing?”, Patience asked. “Puddlemere United versus Montrose Magpies”, Rupert said. Patience and Anne exchanged a look and burst into laughter. “When does the match take place?” “Tomorrow.” “Oh, Dad, what a pity Hengist won’t be there”, Patience stated thoughtfully. Rupert shrugged. “Who knows?”, he said mysteriously and left the room.

Anne looked puzzled. “What does your father know we don’t?” “I haven’t got a clue, really. I haven’t received a single owl from Hengist, and neither did you. He hasn’t even sent a letter by Muggle post – though I’m not so sure the Muggle post man would find our house!” “Why not? I mean, you’re not living in the outskirts but in the centre of Alberbury!”, Anne said surprised. “Yes, but have you ever noticed more muggles than our immediate neighbours looking at our house? It’s mostly muggle-safety, but for our neighbours we’re completely visible.” “You mean your house is invisible to some muggles?” “Anne, you’ve got it! It’s just like the Leaky Cauldron. But a bit less perfect, so from time to time passing tourists see our house.”

Anne suddenly grabbed Patience’s hand: “Then Hengist’s parents can’t see your house!” Patience nodded sadly. “I know. They’re muggles. But Hengist’ll be with them, so they must find it.” At that point Oliver burst into the room without knocking. “I need to wear my Puddlemere scarf!”, he yelled. “Yes, and your hat and whatever else you own”, Anne joked. Oliver grinned. “Of course. Are you supporting Montrose, Anne?” “I’m supporting no one at all”, Anne sighed, “but I guess I haven’t got a chance to stay at home.” “No”, the Woods answered in one voice. “No”, another voice said from the threshold.

A moment of incredulous silence followed. “Hengist?”, Patience finally asked. “No, his ghost. Of course it’s me!”, Hengist laughed. The girls jumped up to greet their friend. Oliver grimaced. “I guess I have to make space for you”, he said, leaving the Malignant Magpies all alone. “Why are you here now?”, Anne asked. Hengist shook his head, mockingly disappointed. “I can go now. Mum and Dad are still down, drinking tea with Patience’s parents. Seems they like each other. Where’s Bethesda?”, the boy asked, looking around for the grey angora.

“Anne is right. We thought you would arrive in one week, not now! But I’m really glad to have you here, and Anne is as well!”, Patience laughed. Anne snorted. “Nay, Patience, Hengist knows that without you’re having to say it”, she said. “We’ve broken up our holidays”, Hengist explained. “Sit down, and then tell us”, Patience invited him.

They all sought their favourite place. Anne had got accustomed to sitting on a low stool with a big and cosy cushion. Patience sat with crossed legs on her sofa and Hengist placed himself on the office chair. “Cool, it’s got wheels”, he said distractedly and took a ride through the room. “Yes, and Mum kills me if I do that too often”, Patience giggled. “Hengist, what happened? You were at Guernsey, weren’t you?”, Anne asked. Hengist nodded. “We were indeed. And do you know just how boring it was? You can’t imagine that! First we had a terrible crossing. It was stormy, and my mother can’t stand too heavy waves.” “But you should have taken some potion to prevent nausea!”, Patience said instantly. “A potion? Not really, we had some muggle medics, but they didn’t work”, Hengist said. “Like I told you, potions would have worked”, Patience murmured. Anne giggled.

Hengist ignored the girls and went on: “When we arrived, it became obvious we hadn’t had a hotel room for my father’s booking had got lost. My mother had a fit of hysterics. The poor hotel manager offered us a small room, which we took gladly. We still had the option to have a good night’s rest and then start searching the next day. And it rained! It rained the whole four days we spent at Guernsey. Nothing but sheep outside. We couldn’t find a new hotel room. My mother’s mood sunk lower and lower with every day until we decided to go home. And here I am!”, Hengist ended, smiling brightly. “Well, we cannot offer better weather, but considerably better mood”, Anne told him. “Fine. Your father said you had a surprise for me?”, Hengist enquired. Patience smiled. “Oh yes. But you’ll have to guess what it is.” Anne agreed quickly. That would be fun.

“Hengist, listen: Trelawney says you’re good at Divination, so you’ll have no problem with this”, Patience began. Anne interrupted: “I think logic is needed more, and logic, I hate to admit it, is rather the son of a bat’s specialty!” “Okay, okay, but he’s not exactly rubbish at Potions, is he?”, Patience asked Anne. “I’m still here, and I’m dying to know what the surprise is!”, Hengist reminded the two girls. They grinned nastily. “Now you’re in for most difficult questions”, Anne stated coolly. Hengist rolled his eyes.

“Okay, first clue: We are in a way involved”, Patience said. Anne frowned. “Aren’t we? In two ways, actually. Firstly in the name of one participant, secondly in what it is.” “Oh yes, of course”, Anne grasped her meaning. “Excuse me? What?”, Hengist asked. “Name and what it is”, Patience repeated in a short version. “As we have only one name in common it’s got something to do with either Malignant or Magpies”, Hengist thought aloud. “Very well. You’re getting close”, Anne praised him. “Oh, am I? It doesn’t feel that way. But well, if I am… I choose Magpies, for I cannot imagine something with malignant.” ”Good choice”, commented Patience, hardly suppressing her laughter.

“Okay. Magpies. Combinations with Magpies, for I reckon it’s not chasing the birds away from a field or something?” “No, we won’t chase birds”, Anne chuckled. “Not anymore”, Patience added. Anne, never having read much about Quidditch didn’t get her point, but Hengist looked up. “Not any more? The only birds I recall that are protected are the Golden Snidgets!” “The what?”, Anne burst out. “The Snidgets. They were used in the first stages of Quidditch until someone invented the Snitch, which is a much better solution I think”, Patience explained. “Quidditch?”, Hengist asked, with shining eyes. “We’re going to a Quidditch match?” “He’s got it”, Patience beamed. “We’re going to a Quidditch match?”, Hengist repeated. “Yes, and don’t repeat it again, it’s getting boring”, Anne declared. “Who’s playing?” “Ah, Hengist, that you have to guess as well”, Patience giggled. “Magpies? Montrose Magpies”, Hengist said matter-of-factly. “Versus whom?” “I don’t know!”, Hengist gave up.

“Now don’t give up so easily. You’re in a house of Quidditch fanatics, and which team do they support?”, Anne asked patiently. “Puddlemere United”, Hengist said, slapping his forehead. “Where did they erect a Quidditch pitch here?”, Anne asked, looking out of the window. “Alberbury hasn’t got one”, Patience reported. “By the way, don’t you want to walk through the village? It’s pretty nice”, she proposed. “First answer my question. I have to know in which moor or outskirts I’m going to be dragged to watch 14 wizards and witches chasing after 4 balls”, Anne said, half joking only. “We’re at the border to Wales”, Patience grinned. “And that means we have a lot of hills around here. The nearest are the Caradoc Hills, and that’s where they erected the pitch. It’s absolutely Muggle-safe!” She sounded proud.

Hengist and Anne exchanged an amused glance. “Okay, and now we may go and see Alberbury”, Hengist said, stretching lazily. “I have to say goodbye to my parents, though.” “And I’m going to Summon the umbrellas”, Anne offered. “Do so, but be careful, sometimes we forget one outside and the last time I summoned the umbrellas a window broke”, Patience warned. Anne laughed and began the Summoning charm. Nothing broke, as far as they could judge by listening.

While Anne was amusing herself with letting umbrellas fly towards her, Hengist and Patience had went down into the kitchen. The Woods and the Alrets sat there in front of a steaming teapot and a cake Patience easily recognized as one of her mother’s magical creations. “Hallo, Patience”, Mr Alret said friendly. Patience shook her friend’s parents’ hands. “We want to take a walk through the village”, Patience told the adults. “No magic!”, Rupert instantly said. “I know, dad, don’t worry”, his daughter smiled. “You must have a big problem with Hengist”, Rupert said, ignoring Patience. “Well, we sometimes had to explain strange things, but nothing very bad up to now”, Mrs Alret laughed. “We had had our problems as well, in a village with only muggles”, Joan sighed. “But at last we’ve managed.” Patience hid a grin. Her parents weren’t that normal they deemed themselves. “Yes, you may go”, Rupert finally agreed, seeing Anne stepping downstairs loaded with umbrellas. “Have fun!”, the Alrets wished. Hengist embraced his parents and they took leave.

Just now the sun was shining, but darker clouds were threatening over the Caradoc Hills. “How did you get here?”, Anne asked Hengist. “It was really easy to find. I had your address, Patience, and we found Shrewsbury alright. Then my father asked a local and he told us we simply had to take the A 458 in the direction of Ford and behind Ford we had to take the B 4393 until we arrived at Alberbury. Well, not exactly. We had to look for a street going to this village”, Hengist grinned. “I don’t know, I’ve never come here by car”, Patience shrugged. The three of them laughed.

“Alberbury hasn’t many shops, has it?”, Anne asked a bit disappointed. “I’m afraid no. And moreover they’re all muggle shops.” “Patience, shan’t we have fun and visit a muggle shop?”, Hengist asked, grinning mischievously. “Anne?”, Patience asked. Anne nodded excitedly. “Fine. Okay, we have a book shop, a grocery and an apothecary at hand”, Hengist listed. “We have also a fish shop and a butcher and a baker”, Patience grinned. “Oh, not to forget the newspaper store and what the muggles call supermarket”, Anne added. “Now we’ll have to choose”, Hengist said, waiting for a decision. Anne took out her wand, turned three times and pointed at – the apothecary. Sparks shot out of the tip of her wand. “Very discreet”, Hengist whispered.

Some children were staring open-mouthed at the three in the middle of the market place. “Oh my god, let’s go in there, now!”, Patience urged her friends under her breath. They were rather in a hurry when they entered the apothecary – and they had forgotten to agree on what they would look for. Patience got immediately lost in the sight of the old glass jars with their old-fashioned signs and the Latin inscriptions. “Oh, he would be in such a flutter”, she muttered. “You’re mixing potions in your mind”, Anne accused her.

The friendly apothecary waited for them to say what they wanted. Hengist smiled apologetically. “I think we’re not finished soon”, he said. The apothecary laughed and turned to the next customer, an old woman shaking her head about ‘these youths’. “We could buy some necessary things”, Patience said thoughtfully. “What do you mean?” “They might not have Gillyweed or dragon blood in here, Anne, but still there are some really powerful things. I could use some camomile, and maybe also some peppermint tea”, she said thoughtfully. Her two friends stared at her as if she were mad. “And rose water and glycerine”, she added. Anne began to understand. “You’re simply listing things we might need for some jokes”, she slowly said.

Hengist grinned. “Be careful, it might be costly”, he warned. “Oh, yes. How much muggle money do we have?”, Patience asked. “Quite a lot, for I haven’t had time to change”, Hengist grimaced. “Okay. Then let’s order our few things”, Patience brightly grinned. The apothecary was friendly enough not to ask what they wanted to do, but when Anne thought aloud of buying some arsenic he told them it would only be sold to adults. Anne quickly pretended it had been a joke, and they left the apothecary with loads of useful things.

 

Montrose versus Puddlemere

The Quidditch match was to be in the evening. Rupert had explained them it would be even safer. And it was raining hard. “That is pretty good, the Muggles will stay in”, Rupert said cheerfully. It didn’t cheer up Anne, though. Spending an evening with Quidditch and standing in pouring rain wasn’t exactly her idea of a pleasant evening. “C’mon, Anne, do look a bit more sociable”, Hengist whispered, hardly able to suppress a grin when Oliver came downstairs dressed all in Puddlemere United robes. They were of navy-blue with the emblem of two crossed bulrushes on them. Patience also wore a Puddlemere scarf, which matched her eyes tonight very well. Hengist had a pair of omnioculars around his neck.

“I don’t want to miss a single move”, he declared. “Can I borrow them?”, Oliver asked instantly. “We’ll see”, Hengist dismissed the plea. “Okay, all of you into the car. Bye, Joan, have a nice evening!” Joan Wood was staying behind, for she had forbidden her husband to add another seat to the car. Four children and Rupert were all that fit into Rupert’s car. “We’re really going there by car?”, Oliver asked incredulously. “We’re going as far as we can”, Rupert told his son. “At least that!”, Anne muttered. Patience giggled. “The last time we walked over, and it was snowing and we couldn’t see ten metres in front of us!” Hengist grinned. “We’re happy to use the car, aren’t we?”, he stated.

The rain was pouring down still when they had reached a valley next to the Caradoc Hills. “Okay. That’s where we leave the car”, Rupert announced. Anne opened her umbrella the second she was out of the car. Patience simply drew her robes over her head. “I’ll get wet anyway, the stands have no roof”, she shrugged her father’s scowl off. Oliver was already half-way up the hill. “The pitch is up there. We should hurry a bit, the match will start in the quarter of an hour.” Rupert waited for the Malignant Magpies to pass him and kept on urging them forward the whole way uphill. “Wow!”, Hengist and Patience said in one voice when they had reached the entrance to the pitch.

The Hogwarts pitch was nothing to this one. The stands were twice as big as the Hogwarts ones. They were draped for this match in the navy-blue of Puddlemere and the black and white of the Magpies. “Ah, Rupert Wood! Good to see you again!”, a fat wizard at the entrance greeted Mr Wood. “Richard Baker! It must be at least 20 years”, Rupert said, sounding delighted. His eyes, though, didn’t mirror the smile on his lips. “And your children?”, Baker asked. “Yes, two of them”, Rupert said briskly. “Where are our seats?” “Oh, just up there, the second blue stand on the right, can’t miss it!” Rupert politely told Baker good-bye and lead the way to the stand.

“Who is this Richard Baker?”, Patience asked curiously. “Hum? Oh, Richard was at Hogwarts in my time. He was a Hufflepuff, you know”, Rupert began. “That explains a lot”, Hengist couldn’t help saying. Rupert grinned lopsidedly. “But he had a nice career as a Quidditch commentator. He had been discovered to be partial in several matches and had to give up his work. Now he’s obviously selling tickets and sending people to their right places.” “That is really a typical Hufflepuff life!”, Patience giggled. Even Anne smiled a bit. “Here we are. Our seats. Excuse me, would you let us through, sir? Thanks. Thanks, ma’am. Thanks”, Rupert said, dragging the four students past some elderly witches and wizards to reach their seats. “Wow! This is marvellous!”, Oliver exclaimed.

“Welcome to this seasons opening Quidditch match: Puddlemere United versus Montrose Magpies!”, a sonored voice called out from the officials’ stand. “My name is Ludo Bagman. This match promises to be exciting. The oldest and most worthy of the league versus the most successful team ever!” The stands roared for their team with shouts of “Montrose Magpies!” and “Puddlemere United!”. “Ludo Bagman?”, Rupert asked frowning. “He was a professional, wasn’t he?”

Oliver nodded eagerly. “He was captain of the Wimbourne Wasps, but I don’t think he’s still there!” “He isn’t”, the elderly witch next to him said. “He’s at the Ministry currently, but as this is such an important match he begged to do the comment.” “I hope he’s good”, Patience murmured sceptically. The players took their positions, the bludgers and the snitch were released. Then the referee blew his whistle and threw the quaffel into the air. The match started. The Hogwarts students soon saw it would be much harder than every match they had so far seen. The teams were not willing to give a single point to the other.

“That was a foul!”, Patience and Bagman said unanimously. The Magpies earned a penalty for that and put the quaffel safely through the Puddlemere loophole. Oliver was crushed. “It is only the beginning of the match”, Hengist tried to cheer him up and handed him the omnioculars. That worked. Bagman was a very good commentator, even Patience had to admit. Anne was shivering on her seat. But, though she would never have admitted it, she somehow enjoyed the match. It was exciting, no doubt. The next goal was scored by Puddlemere. And then… “There is the snitch!”, Bagman called.

The crowd went silent. They only watched the neck-breaking dive of the two seekers, locked shoulder to shoulder. “Oh, they’re going to crash, they’re going to crash”, Patience wailed, biting her knuckles. Hengist tried to snatch back his onmioculars from Oliver, but failed. The glasses seemed glued to Oliver’s eyes. “Unbelievable!”, Bagman shrieked suddenly. “This was a Wronski Feint, and it succeeded!” It did indeed. The Magpies seeker crashed violently into the ground and rolled over several times. His limbs seemed to be all severed, and especially his right arm was showing a very strange angle.

“Oh dear”, Anne gasped. “The Magpies seeker will not be able to play anymore. Now, we all know that unless one of the other Montrose Magpies players catches the snitch Puddlemere has as good as won – and there is the snitch, this time it really is there, I can see it myself, and yes, the Puddlemere seeker will catch it safely, no doubt!”, Bagman told the audience. The seeker did. It hadn’t been a long match, but to the Hogwarts students it seemed to have taken some hours.

 

At Petronella Wood’s

“Got all your things? Oliver? Patience?”, Joan Wood asked calmly, looking over her children’s bags. “Grandma has something to eat, I think”, Patience joked, seeing the packets of biscuits her mother stuffed into the outer pockets of her bag. Joan ignored her, put a scarf round Oliver’s throat and checked even Anne’s and Hengist’s things. Rupert was tapping the doorframe with the car keys. “He does this every time he waits for us”, Patience whispered, grinning. The door frame showed a curb exactly where the keys hit it. Anne had to pretend to cough not to laugh.

“Are you finally ready? Good. Good bye, Joan, I’ll take them to Grandma, and hope they won’t annoy her too much!”, Rupert said, ushering the four students out of the house. “Nonsense!”, Oliver cried and “Balderdash!”, added his sister. “How do you talk to your father?”, Rupert asked. “Don’t pretend you’re a stern father, dad! And grandma is up to more than us four!”, Patience boldly protested. Rupert grinned. “Certainly she is. She’ll be delighted, she has told me many times. You have one week to explore Shrewsbury. Use it well!” Somehow, the Woods’ car moved faster than on their way to the Quidditch pitch, but only when they were safely out of eyeshot.

“Dad, what’s wrong with the car?”, Oliver asked suspiciously. “Nothing’s wrong, I simply improved it a bit”, Rupert murmured. Patience, Anne and Hengist looked at each other and grinned. “Improved it?”, Hengist enquired. “When we go to London at September 1^st, do you think I wanted to drive for hours? No, no, we’ll have a fast car. Okay, it was tricky, but with a little magic everything works.” “Don’t let the Ministry hear this!”, Anne warned, but smiled at the same time.

“This is Shrewsbury, see? When we’re through the outskirts, you’ll be able to see parts of the old town wall. It has been expanded quite a few times through the middle ages, because the town grew. There were hospitals outside the walls, the most famous of them is St Giles. That was a leprosarium. And there is the castle of Shrewsbury!” Rupert sounded excited. “It isn’t as splendid as Hogwarts!”, Hengist said. Rupert scowled and nearly caused an accident. “No, of course not!”, he thundered, deeply offended because everything he worked at was dear to his heart. “Sorry”, Hengist mumbled surprised. Patience whispered something into his ear. “And it really has been besieged in the 12^th century?”, Hengist hurried to ask and tried to sound very interested. Rupert’s forehead went smooth again instantly as he began telling them the wild story of the siege of Shrewsbury and the flight of the wizards Adeney and FitzAlan.

“But my mother will be able to tell you even more”, Rupert ended his tale, stopping in front of a crooked old house in the centre of Shrewsbury. He looked around for passers-by and silently took out his wand. “Not a word to Joan”, he warned the children and made the parking space a little wider. The girls giggled. The door of the crooked house flew open and an old woman stood there, watching and waving friendly. “Rupert! I thought you would never come!”, she laughed and embraced her son. “This is my mother, Petronella Wood”, Rupert introduced. “You may call me Nella, though”, the old woman smiled. “Verres and Helena will call me as ever”, she added jokingly. “This is Anne Symmons, and Hengist Alret, friends of Patience’s”, Rupert said. Anne and Hengist greeted old Mrs Wood.

“Come in, I’ll show you your rooms. The boys will have the attic on the stairs. Helena, you and Anne have the spare chamber upstairs.” Patience beamed at her grandmother. She had always wanted to sleep once in that chamber, but until today there had never been a chance. “Take your things up!”, Rupert told the four. Oliver lead Hengist to the attic. “There used to live my great-aunt Caroline”, he said. Petronella Wood shrugged. “Caroline’s a ghost by now. My dear cousin will find a space everywhere she wants to. Not that she is about to visit. Or is she, Rupert?”, she enquired of her son. Rupert frowned. “I’m not sure. When was she there for the last time?” Patience could tell him: “When I started my third year”, she said, grimacing in disgust. “Right. Next year she’ll visit us then”, Rupert concluded. Petronella nodded relieved. “She always tells me I’m much too old to be still alive and a decent witch would have stopped going out by now”, she said horrified. Rupert smiled affectionately. “Not you, mother. I have to go now. Have fun, all of you!”, he called upstairs. Four voices answered him.

Patience and Anne had entered the spare chamber. “Oh wow!”, Anne exclaimed. “Yes, it is rather pretty”, Patience said, trying in vain to hide her pride in the chamber. It was dressed like a Victorian room, with roses on the bedclothes and a curtain round the bed. There was a ewer and a basin instead of modern water sinks. The mirror was large and allowed a full look, and the wardrobe was made of dark mahogany. “It looks as if sprung of a brontë novel”, Anne said. “Yes”, Patience agreed. They unpacked a few things and went downstairs again.

“Fine. So, now you’re all down again, I will show you how to get from Muggle Shrewsbury into Magic Shrewsbury. Until then you will be free to go where you want. Only one thing: There is one lane, Giles Lane, in the magic quarter I do not want you to enter into.” “Is it like Knockturn Alley?”, Hengist asked. Petronella nodded. “Yes. Only Dark Wizards go there, and none of you is dark!”

They set out into Muggle Shrewsbury. That the city was medieval was not to be overlooked. Every now and then a bit of town wall poked out of ivy ranks. There were other crooked houses. “That was the old mason’s house”, Petronella told them. “He was a brave man. He made the tombstones for those who died in the siege, although King Stephen had ordered them to be buried without stone and without a Christian ceremony.” “Where do we get into the Magic Quarter?”, Oliver asked impatiently. His grandmother ruffled his hair. “I know you’re not as interested in history as you are in Quidditch, but you and your sister will see soon. It’s another entrance than the one I showed you last year. The Muggles somehow discovered it and we had to find a new way.”

Petronella suddenly turned into a dark side passage. Hengist had walked on without noticing it. “Hengist! We’re here!”, Patience called after him. He shuffled back. “Sorry”, he apologised. “No problem”, Petronella smiled. “Here. This is a bit of  the town wall. Prod it with your wands and say the spell to open doors. Who knows it?” She looked at the four enquiringly. “Alohomora”, Anne answered. “Very well, try it, Anne.” Anne did. And the wall swung open. There was a lively passage behind it. “You can find everything here!”, Patience said excitedly. “Yes, but don’t do everything on your first day. Today we’ll only see where the important shops are, by tomorrow you can go here for yourselves. Never turn down there, remember!”, Petronella warned them and pointed down a somewhat gloomy looking lane.

The Shrewsbury Magic Quarter was not as big as Diagon Alley. But it was nevertheless fascinating. There was a shop for books called The Golden Quill, another one of Oliver’s favourites, Quality Quidditch Supplies. Zonko’s had a filial as well as Gringott’s. There were wand makers and an owl post office. Sweet shops and an ice-cream parlour rounded the picture. Patience and Anne were standing in front of a large apothecary while the boys were looking at a shop with second-hand magic artefacts. “Anne, Patience, come over, you have to see that!”, Hengist called excited. The girls followed his call. Petronella had met a friend and was gossiping happily.

“Look at that!”, Hengist pointed at a book that was rather battered. “How to transfigure correctly”, Patience read. “That would be a gift for John King, don’t you think?” Anne grinned. “I don’t think that would help, but you’re right.” “Yes, and why don’t we give our Slytherin foes these nice little broken phials?”, Hengist asked, grinning nastily. “They’re held together by spells”, Oliver informed them. “And these will interact with every potions’ ingredient you will fill into them!” “Wonderful!”, Patience exclaimed. “Yes, I do think this year’s Christmas will be much fun. Let us buy these things tomorrow”, Anne suggested. The rest of the Malignant Magpies agreed instantly. “Have you finished?”, a friendly voice asked from behind. “Grandma! Yes, of course”, Patience quickly said. No need to inform her grandmother of her little plans.

The next day they returned to Shrewsbury Magical Quarter. The second hand shop had been on their minds for the rest of the last day, and they headed for it eagerly. “Oh no”, Anne moaned disappointedly. “Don’t tell me the phials have gone”, Hengist said in some alarm. “No, it’s just that it only opens at midday”, Anne explained. “Well, that’s not too bad”, Oliver stated, his eyes wandering over to Quality Quidditch Supplies. “You go there, Verres. I think you’re old enough to look after yourself”, Patience sharply decided. “And you? You can’t stand here for three hours waiting for the shop to open!”, Oliver said. “No, of course not. But I think we could need some real Potions supplies, couldn’t we?”, Patience asked, glancing pointedly at Hengist and Anne. They caught the hint and nodded. “See you at dinner at Grandma’s”, Oliver shrugged and walked off, hardly able to keep himself from running to the window of the Quidditch shop.

Before the Malignant Magpies could enter the apothecary, Hengist spotted an elderly wizard calling out for ‘wand-testing’. “What does that mean?”, he asked puzzled. Patience shrugged. Anne frowned. “I don’t know, either, but I’ll ask him. He looks friendly enough.” And she walked over, followed by Patience and Hengist. “Good morning”, the elderly man with his balding head and his bright smile greeted them. “Pray, tell me, what is wand-testing?”, Anne enquired after returning the greeting. The smile grew wider, and the students could see that there were some teeth missing. “Ah, well, I was a wand-maker in my youth, but my eyes are too bad now. You know, filling wands with what makes them magical is a tricky business.” The three nodded. “Give me your wand, young miss”, he said to Anne.

Anne hesitated a little, but after considering it was safe gave her wand to the old man. “Oh, an Ollivander’s wand. The very best quality in Britain, I assure you – and not without envy!” He chuckled and touched Anne’s wand lovingly. “Yes, yes, ash, 7 inches, of course. I just wonder what is inside it…” He gave the wand a twist. “Ah! Great! Dragon heartstring, isn’t it? A wand for a very special witch, I may say. Dragon Heartstring requires quite a lot of skill to handle. I presume this is your school wand?” Anne confirmed that. “I believe we must expect a lot of you, little Miss.” He handed the wand back to Anne. “Give it a try”, he ordered. Anne did, and tiny sparks and stars showered over her head. “I think your wand is still in the best of orders. Never thought an Ollivander’s wand wouldn’t be in perfect order, mind!” Again he chuckled.

“Now, you do know now what wand-testing is. I look at the wands, feel if the inside is still powerful, feel for rips and scratches and let the owner have a try. If the wand doesn’t react as it should, I tell the owner to go straight to a wand-maker and get a new one. You see, the witch or wizard owning a  wand may change, and maybe the wand then doesn’t agree with him or her anymore. And then, wands may be damaged and do not work well. There are lots of reasons for having your wand tested time to time!” “I see”, Anne said thoughtfully. “So you think I’m about to be great?” The old man laughed and patted his knees. “That is something your teachers will be able to tell you. I tell that to everyone with a dragon heartstring-wand!” But it didn’t sound like real laughter. Anne couldn’t get rid of the feeling the man hadn’t told the truth.

“Who are you?”, Patience suddenly asked. The old man turned to her. “That doesn’t matter, child, does it?”, he softly but decidedly said. Then he got up from the stairs he had been sitting at. “Unless you two want your wands tested as well I’ll get myself a drink at the pub. Have a nice day!” And slowly and carefully, minding every step, he walked away. “That was a strange one”, Hengist said lowly. Patience shuddered. “He seemed to know more”, Anne quietly said. “I’d like an ice-cream now!”, Hengist abruptly said, taking Anne’s arm and dragging her towards the ice-cream parlour. She didn’t fight his grip.

Walking through the magical quarter, reading newspaper headlines every now and then and amusing themselves with the front page of Witch Weekly (‘How to get a husband without using Love Potions. 101 Muggle ways to ensnare men’), they made up their own ways, enjoying their ice-cream cones. “Hang on, I can’t believe it!”, Patience cried out, pointing at the window of a bookshop. “What?”, Anne and Hengist asked in one voice. “That’s unbelievable!”, was all they got for an answer, but they followed their friend to the window.

In the middle of other books lay a magnificent book with gold printing. “This is one of the copies of the Everlasting Chronicles”, Patience said in an awed voice. “The what?”, Hengist burst out. “Oh, honestly, you can’t tell me…”, Patience started, but Anne interrupted her: “He can, and me too. We haven’t got the faintest clue what that is all about.” “Oh”, Patience said, shaking her head. “Okay, well, the Everlasting Chronicles were begun in the early Middle Ages, around 900 AD, if I remember correctly. And the wizard who began it cast a spell onto the parchment, so that it wrote itself!” “Wrote itself?”, Hengist repeated, grinning. “Well, it keeps on being written. Every event it considers important is taken in there.” “Who considers things important?”, Hengist enquired. “The book of course.” Patience sounded as if it were the most normal thing in the world for a book to think for itself.

“Patience, honey, don’t you ever think of its being made by dark wizards?”, Anne carefully asked. “Anne, my love, no, this thing certainly isn’t. It has been thoroughly tested by the Ministry. My father was one of the experts called to help. I’d just love to see what it is scribbling at the moment!” “Can we get her away from here without having a tantrum?”, Anne whispered dramatically to Hengist. He shrugged. “Why don’t we all go in?”, he suggested.

Patience needed no second word. She was in the bookshop in an instant. “We want to have a look at the Everlasting Chronicles”, Patience explained. The very young witch behind the counter smiled. “Ah, yes, you’re not the first to see what it keeps scribbling on. Have a look!” She fetched the heavy book out of the window and placed it on the counter. “Yeah. Here it is. See, that’s the monk’s original writing. Tiny, accurate letters. It gets more modern through the time.” Anne was still not sure if it really was a good and trustful book. “You are sure it is not dark magic?”, she asked the witch who turned to examine her. “Well, actually, no. It makes me shudder sometimes. But there are only five of them, and it’s an honour to have it here. You’re Hogwarts students?” “Yes”, Hengist answered, as Patience seemed too much engrossed by the Everlasting Chronicles. “Want to buy your set books?” “Oh, no, we haven’t got the list yet, but thanks”, Hengist stuttered. Anne tugged Patience’s robe sleeve. “C’mon, we have something else to do!”, she hissed. “Okay, okay. Thanks for showing us”, Patience beamed at the witch. “You’re welcome, darling. See you!”

The three left the bookshop and walked slowly back to the second-hand store. It was open by now. “Okay, my dears, let’s go and prepare for this year’s Christmas!” Hengist rubbed his hands and grinned maliciously. They immediately headed for How to Transfigure Correctly and the broken phials. “Okay, we’ve got John King and Banks”, Hengist counted. “Banks? I thought these would be for all three!”, Patience exclaimed astonished. “No! We must find something better for Vargas and Cook.” “A cookbook, Hengist?”, Anne asked with her back to her friends. “Very funny indeed”, Hengist grumbled, looking over her shoulder. “That wasn’t a joke. Here: Cooking made easy. For the beginning cook.” They laughed. “Perfect”, Hengist decided.

Patience meanwhile walked through the rows of shelves. “What are we looking for?”, she asked herself thoughtfully. “Talking to yourself is a bad sign”, Anne giggled. Patience shot her an angry look. “I’m perfectly sane – as yet! But Vargas is difficult. It must be something really mean, for he himself is so mean”, Patience thought aloud. Anne nodded. “Yes. And it must not be so bad the teachers will confiscate it at once.” Hengist was busy looking through a large basket full of teddies and dolls. “Vargas doesn’t need a doll!”, Patience said indignantly. “Indeed”, Hengist grinned nastily. Patience nudged him. “Oh, ain’t that sweet!”, she suddenly cried, holding up a very sweet, pitch-black teddy with green glass eyes. “He’s mine, I can tell you.” And nothing whatsoever could have persuaded Patience to lay back the teddy.

“I’ve got it”, Hengist said calmly, when they turned into yet another row of shelves. Indeed it was perfect. It looked like an usual book, but it had completely blank pages and even if you wanted to write into it, the ink got soaked in and disappeared. “Vargas will be so furious!”, Patience giggled. “Yeah, and imagine how funny it will be if we make it look like his usual notebook!”, Anne added. They paid for their Christmas gifts. “Isn’t it odd?”, Patience asked, looking up at the blazing summer sun. “Buying Christmas gifts in summer!”

 

The holidays passed far too fast. The week at Shrewsbury had cost the Malignant Magpies a lot, and Oliver had bought some useful books full of Quidditch strategies. Petronella Wood had enjoyed their society very much, and when the students returned to Alberbury they took Bethesda with them. Patience had declared she couldn’t stand another day without her beloved cat, neighbours’ anger or not.

It was August the 31^st. “Okay, today we’ll travel by Floo Powder to Diagon Alley. Have your trunks packed, for we’ll stay at the Leaky Cauldron for the night. Then we’ll take you to King’s Cross and see you off”, Rupert Wood told his family and guests cheerfully. Joan rolled her eyes. “Yes, of course. Just how do you think I’m going to get everything ready?”, she muttered. Patience grinned. “I’ll help you, mum”, she promised. “Me too”, Anne offered. Oliver stayed silent. “Verres?”, Patience asked encouragingly. “Well… I mean, I have to get my trunk ready and the things laid out, don’t I?”, he said evasively. Rupert scowled. “Oliver”, he said threateningly. But Patience ruffled her brother’s hair. “You and Hengist will be so nice to carry our trunks down once they are packed. You will also see to it that the broomsticks are safely packed, won’t you?” It was a threat implied, and Oliver knew it. Nevertheless it was the only possibility so he accepted it.

 

Preparing for School

Diagon Alley was wonderful, Anne thought. It always burst of witches and wizards and the latest news. At the Leaky Cauldron, Tom had greeted them enthusiastically, “I’ve got your rooms prepared. Have a good time!”, he wished them. They only put down their trunks, smoothed their hair and clothes and went shopping. “First to Madam Malkin’s, Patience needs a new dress robe and Oliver has grown so much I fear a whole set of robes is necessary”, Joan sighed. “Anne? Hengist?”, Rupert asked politely. “Well, as the letter says dress robes are required I need one as well”, Anne shrugged. Hengist shook his head. “I could only need some plain work robes”, he shyly said. Anne and Patience knew the Alrets hadn’t that much money.

They entered Madam Malkin’s shop. The owner and her assistants crowded around the customers. Madam Malkin herself took care of Patience, Hengist was measured by a young witch and Oliver by another. Anne had the maître of the house to herself. He was Madam Malkin’s husband and a really gifted designer. “Dress robes, dear?”, Madam Malkin asked kindly. Patience nodded. “What colour should we choose? Ah, I know. We have a splendid new dark blue cloth over here.” Mrs Wood clapped her hands together in rapt joy. “This is wonderful!”, she whispered. Patience agreed. “I’d say we should have it embroidered”, Madam Malkin explained. “What is your favourite subject?”

Patience was startled. She thought about it for a few moments. What was her favourite subject? Anne’s was Transfiguration, Hengist loved Flying, and both of them she liked as well. But if she really judged objectively, it was: “Potions”, she said clearly. Anne turned, flabbergasted. Hengist was chid by his measurer for laughing too much. Oliver shook his head sadly. “Gone mad, Helena?”, he called over. “No”, his sister replied firmly. Madam Malkin chuckled. “See, dear, do you like it?” The signs on the gown were alchemy signs, as Patience recognized, and they resembled the queer symbols on Snape’s blackboard. “Marvellous!”, she glowed.

Anne had insisted on having no embroidery at all. Mr Malkin was disappointed, but he calmed himself by choosing the most expensive and obviously most beautiful burgundy red cloth he could find. It suited Anne better than anything anyone had ever seen her in. Having finished the clothes’ shopping, they went over to Flourish and Blotts to buy the school books. “Okay, we need these, and Oliver can have my old ones”, Patience joked. Oliver grinned. “I wouldn’t mind, for the correct solutions are written in yours”, he said. “Oh no, you’re already lazy enough”, Rupert told his son sternly. They all bought their books, and as Patience and Anne were ready before the others, they walked through the rows of bookshelves.

“Oh, I’d love that!”, Patience suddenly exclaimed. Anne looked at the book. It was Wizard’s Duel – Unexpected Jinxes and Hexes. “Buy it, if you want it, though I can’t see what it’ll be good for”, she said bored. To her, a book on dragons was much more interesting, especially since they had received an owl from Fred and George Weasley including greetings from Charlie. Patience bit her under lip thoughtfully. Then she took the book and walked up to the counter. Who knew what good might come of it?

The night at the Leaky Cauldron passed fast enough, and they even found some taxis to get them to King’s Cross Station. Packing their luggage onto some trolleys, they walked towards the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. “Okay, who wants to go first?”, Rupert asked inviting. Oliver put up his hand. “Me, for I need to see the team!” He took the barrier at a run.

Patience, Bethesda in her arms to calm her, and Anne were next. Hengist went shortly after them. As usual, the big red steam engine was a marvellous sight. “The last time”, Anne said suddenly. Patience gasped. It drove tears into her eyes. Anne was right. This was the last time they would leave at September 1^st to Hogwarts, departing from Platform 9 ¾, looking for an empty compartment and talk all the way to Hogsmeade Station. The last time the witch with the trolley would sell them sweets. And the last time…

“Hey, you! We’re over here!” “Have been waiting for you all! “You’re pretty late!” The Weasley twins, shouting in turns, had their heads out of a compartment. Next to them was the head of Lee Jordan. “We’ve reserved seats for you – or does Mr Alret want to join the prefects this year?”, George asked grinning. Hengist shuddered dramatically. “No, thanks, I’ll see my revered colleague Ghewyn early enough at school…”

Just that second Ghewyn Rhys shuffled towards the Malignant Magpies. A new shiny badge (Hengist grinned, remembering that his badge had a tiny tomato stain from the spaghetti last evening) told them she had been made Head Girl. “Oh, Ghewyn, we’re so proud to have a Gryffindor Head Girl!”, Anne hurried to tell her classmate. Ghewyn’s face broke into a smile, and suddenly she looked much nicer than with her usual stern looks. “My colleague is David Bantam from Ravenclaw!”, she told them. Hengist blushed and bent down to fasten his shoes, as he mumbled. “Well, I must be off, examining if everything is alright. Hurry up a bit getting on the train, will you? We’re now in Seventh Year, and we have to be models to the younger pupils!” She walked off.

Anne shook with laughter and Patience giggled as well. “Now if that didn’t get to her head I don’t know what has!”, Hengist stated, grinning broadly. “At least you’re no Head Boy”, Anne sad relieved. “Indeed. But I’m still prefect. Can’t help it, I fear!” They all laughed and hurried to get their luggage into the Weasley twins’ compartment. Lee Jordan had a box with him. “What is inside there?”, Patience enquired. “A rat baby”, Fred told her. Lee opened the box. It was indeed a rat, and it was tiny and almost hairless. Patience raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure to have it in here?”, she asked, pointing to the basket containing a hissing Bethesda. “She won’t eat it, I trust”, Lee said, eyeing the basket suspiciously. “She won’t, as long as she’s in there. But if she stays in there for the whole journey…” Patience trailed off.

Hengist finished the sentence for her: “She won’t be very happy and get at anything she thinks a worthy revenge. That cat’s a clever one, and sometimes just as mischievous as Patience herself.” “Thanks, Hengist”, she grinned. Anne sighed. “And yet it would be a treat to have the flee farm inside the basket for this last journey to school.” Patience succumbed to her friends’ wishes, but the slight frown showed clearly she wasn’t happy about that. They chatted pleasantly, they bought sweets from the trolley (“Anne, don’t you want to try a bean, c’mon!”), they planned mischief and thought of amusing ways to get the Slytherin trio of Vargas, Banks and Cook expelled shortly before the final exams started.

 

The Last Sorting

The journey passed pleasantly. Bethesda had obviously fallen asleep after much tantrum in her basket. “She’ll be moping around for a few days”, Patience predicted. “Hey, yeah, what about it? Maybe she’s not that nice, but to me it means no change”, Anne joked. They chose a horseless carriage. Hengist, Anne, Patience and Mike Flatley drove up to school. “Not sharing a carriage with Brian?”, Hengist asked astonished. Mike shrugged. “I thought it would be nice to have a last journey with the famous Malignant Magpies. Gonna tell my grandchildren about that!” They laughed, but nevertheless there was a melancholy note in it.

Knowing that after the next bent they would be able to see Hogwarts, they leaned out of the window and watched the castle drawing nearer. “It is so beautiful”, Anne whispered. “Yes”, Patience answered. “I wish we had still another seven years in front of us!” Getting off the carriages in the yard, they walked up the stone staircases towards the Great Hall.

It was, as always magnificently draped with the coats of arms of the four houses. The teachers were sitting at the table on top of the Hall. “Snape’s still there, what a pity!”, Hengist sighed dramatically. “Oh, well, doesn’t matter. And there’s Holly, and Emerson Dicket, and it looks like they’re very happy!” Patience counted the teachers. “No one new, no one missing, seems we’re looking forward to a pretty normal year.” They took their places at the Gryffindor table.

Dumbledore looked down on all the students filing in, waving at some. Anne returned the greeting. Professor McGonagall, on her way to meet the First Years, stopped for a moment: “Your last year. I hope you’ll behave this time!” She tried to look stern, but it didn’t work very well. “We’ll try”, Patience promised, smiling affectionately. “I doubt it”, the professor answered and walked on. “Hey, not a word about my being Prefect and therefore having to be a model!”, Hengist marvelled. Flitwick had fetched the high stool with the shabby Hogwarts Sorting Hat. “I’m really looking forward to the new students. Hope there are worthy heirs”, Anne giggled. Fred and George Weasley looked at her. “That’s unfair!”, George blurted out. “Yes, aren’t we worthy?” “You’re overqualified”, Hengist laughed.

Now the first years filed in. They were looking scared as usual. Being placed by McGonagall in front of the Hat, they dared not look at the crowd of whispering students behind their backs. “I remember how frightened I was”, Patience quietly said. Oliver snorted. “And me! For my caring older sister told me horrible stories about the Sorting!” Those who had heard him stifled their laughter as fast as they could. Dumbledore clipped his spoon to his glass to ask for silence.

The Hat seemed eager to start his song. A rim opened, and it began:

 

I am more than just a shabby hat

You must be sorted – well, I’ll do that!

Experience helps me to sort you,

to find the right house to send you to.

So far I have sorted every student,

The thoughtless and the prudent.

The courageous and the shrew,

The timid as well as you.

First let me introduce,

The houses that I choose.

I may well put you to Gryffindor,

Brave at heart and more,

If you have a lot of nerve,

Then Gryffindor you will serve.

You might belong to Hufflepuff,

Loyal, patient and above,

Just, nice and absolutely true,

Then Hufflepuff I’ll send you to.

Perhaps you’re for good old Ravenclaw

Where logics provide the law.

If your mind is extremely clever

Then Ravenclaw is the choice forever.

You might as well be in Slytherin,

Where I put the ambitious in.

If you long for unlimited power,

You’ll spend your time in Slytherin Tower.

But before I’ll sort you here,

About five students you will hear.

The little witch Miss Patience Wood

Who is as pretty as an old Bigfoot.

An openly biased quidditch announcer

Half the pranks belong to her.

Brewing potions close to disaster

We’re only saved by our potions master.

 

Patience went brick-red hearing that description of hers. But before she could say anything the Hat went on with his song.

 

Let’s talk about Miss Symmons, Anne

I’m clearly not of her a fan.

She thinks she is so very clever

But Ravenclaw wouldn’t even want to have her.

Hope all her tricks are going well

Which leaves but one result: expel!

 

“That thing has gone crazy.” Anne remarked staring at the old Hat while it went on.

 

Tiny little Hengist Alret

He is more a muggle, that I bet.

Mostly with his ugly toad the Mungus,

He places himself wrongly among us.

If the one hadn’t talked from the start,

You couldn’t tell the two apart.

 

Hengist buried his face in his two hands leaving Mungus on his lap.

 

As for the twins of Weasley’s

I wish them both the measleys.

Joining the Malignant Magpies

To learn the practice of every vice.

They think they are mighty cool

But all I see is a nuisance to this school.

 

The Weasley twins stared unbelievingly at the Hat.

 

What I’ll do if I can

I’ll put on them a...

 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Dumbledore shouted waving his wand. The Hat fell silent immediately.

The Great Hall was silent. All students and teachers stared at the Malignant Magpies and the Weasley twins who felt more an more awkward. Dumbledore whispered something into McGonagall’s ear who stood up and ushered the puzzled first years out of the Hall again. When McGonagall returned she told first Fred and George and then Hengist, Patience and Anne to accompany her. She led them to a little room which was located behind the teachers’ table.

Dumbledore and the other house-teachers followed. Dumbledore returned to fetch the Sorting Hat – just in case he might decide to go on singing. Dumbledore cleared his throat. Fred, Gorge, Hengist, Patience and Anne remained silent. “Well, perhaps we should act like that has never happened?” Dumbledore asked. “Like taking as to a separate room?” Anne wanted to know. “Be quiet until we ask you to speak.” Snape barked at her. Anne crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at Snape. “No, Miss Symmons is right I’m afraid. The teachers and I will examine the Hat. We’ll tell you as soon as we find out anything.” Dumbledore assured them. “Do you want to go back or rather go to the common room?” Dumbledore added. The students looked at each other. Everybody nodded. Patience faced the teachers. “We’re going back.”

Without another word they went back to the Great Hall. “They stare at us.” Fred whispered uneasily. Slowly they went back to their places at the Gryffindor table. The first years were led back into the hall. They stared at our friends, as well. “It’s embarrassing.” Percy hissed. “Shut up!” George told him. “Wait here.” McGonagall ordered. “You’ll come to the chair and sit down when I call your name.” She explained while she enrolled a piece of parchment.

…ban! (that was the missing rhyme of his previous verse)

Take a step forward and put me on

For mistakes I make non(e). [for the sake of rhyme]

The sorting will now start

I’ll have a look in your heart.

Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw

Or Slytherin or Gryffindor.

One after the other the students were sorted. Ten to Hufflepuff, ten to Ravenclaw, ten to Slytherin and ten to Gryffindor. It turned out to be a pretty normal sorting after all.

 

Who Bewitched the Hat?

Back in the common room when the other students had gone to sleep the Malignant Magpies and the Weasley twins talked about the past events. “Who do you think has done it?” Hengist wanted to know. “Can’t have been Banks, Vargas and Cook they are too stupid.” Patience thought aloud. “Anne why don’t you say anything?” “You can note me down for my usual suspect.” Anne told him with indifference. “I knew you’d say that.” Patience scolded her. “How did you know?” Fred wanted to know. “She has always suspected him – since our first term and always she has been proven wrong.” Patience told them. “You have a better suggestion? Who could go to Dumbledore’s office and bewitch the Hat? You need a skilled wizard or witch. Certainly no student.” Anne replied. Patience remained quiet.

“But perhaps the Hat was only bewitched shortly before he started singing.” George threw in. “Now that would really have been stupid cause everybody would have noticed that.” Patience said. “Well, that would suggest that it had been Banks, Vargas and Cook.” Hengist added. “You know what really drives me mad?” Anne asked her friends. They shook their heads. “That the Hat had no rhyme for my last name like it had for yours.” Anne confessed smiling a bit. Patience giggled. “The song wasn’t too elaborated anyway.” Patience said. “Rhyming Weasley’s with measleys – that really hurt.” Anne burst out. The five started laughing heartily.

Somebody knocked at the door. Professor McGonagall entered. “Professor Dumbledore wants to see you.” She informed them. The students stood up and followed their house-teacher. This time they went to Dumbledore’s office. Dumbledore wasn’t alone with him were the three other house-teachers Flitwick, Sprout and Snape. “Gets more crowded every time we are in here.” Patience whispered.

“We were very curious to hear your suggestions who bewitched the Hat.” Dumbledore started. “Didn’t you ask the Hat?” Patience wanted to know. “I don’t know who did that!” The Hat defended himself. Hengist cleared his throat. “Might have been Banks, Vargas and Cook.” He said. Fred and George nodded. “Might as well have been you!” Snape snarled. “Getting rid of your archenemies.” “And making such a stupid song?” Patience asked in disbelief. “You go for dramatic effects, don’t you? I remember all to well a certain ‘booh’ that filled the Great Hall.” Snape crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Well, professor how about you. You could have done it.” Anne barked. “You silly girl!” Snape spat. “Repent and thou wilst be forgiven.” Anne added. Patience held her back. Snape glared angrily at her but didn’t say a word – at first. “Miss Symmons I’d be very careful if I were you. You are a very elaborated password guesser.” “That will be enough.” Dumbledore interrupted them. “Miss Symmons, professor Snape is right. You are a good password guesser.” “I was only lucky when I got yours and Preston’s.” Anne defended herself.

“Severus, I don’t think it has been them.” Dumbledore said. “Any other suggestions apart from the Misters Banks, Vargas and Cook?” Dumbledore asked. Anne opened her mouth to add Snape’s name to this list but closed it when Patience nudged her. “Miss Wood, you didn’t give us your opinion. What do you think?” Dumbledore asked in his warm voice. Patience shrugged. “I have no idea.” “Very well, Minerva please be so kind to take our friends back to Gryffindor tower.”

“Repent and thou wilst be forgiven?” Patience asked when they entered the dormitory. “I always wanted to say that to somebody.” Anne revealed. “You’re insane. Choosing Snape!” “You always ask me to forgive him.” “You two have an odd relationship. You know in those muggle movies it is always those who quarrel most who get married in the end.” Patience thought aloud. “I don’t think I’d deserve that.” Anne told her. “I don’t think Snape deserves you!” Patience replied laughingly. “I think Snape throws a party as soon as we have left the grounds of Hogwarts.” Patience added. “I certainly don't want to be invited to that party. Must be pretty boring.” Anne said thoughtfully.

“Why?” Patience wanted to know. “Well, that son of a bat will have to party alone – since he has no friends.” “C’mon, he must have some friends somewhere.” Patience replied. “In his dreams.” Anne retorted. “Well, at least you don't have to be afraid that he'll invite you or call you a friend.” Patience scolded her friend. “I think he'd rather spend his time with Moaning Myrtle than with me.” Anne declared happily.

 

Say It With Flowers

The first day of term had finally arrived. Nobody really talked about the mysterious song of the Sorting Hat but the teachers. “It’s great, we’re almost facing a whole week without Snape. Isn’t that marvellous?” Anne asked before she took another sip from her orange juice. “Thursday, and we start right away with potions.” Hengist moaned. “We’ll have to face him on Wednesdays.” Fred added in a suffering voice. “Now isn’t that marvellous?” Anne repeated. “Anne I know you’ve ever been a morning person but forgive me if I tell you that but you’re much too cheerful for a Monday morning.” Patience complained. “I’m sorry my dear friend. It’s just that we have almost a week to plan a trick for that son of a bat.” Anne looked cheeringly around.

“You had a quarrel with him yesterday, doesn’t that last for a week. It should have made you very happy.” George commented. “C’mon, it’s my last year. You don’t ask me to leave this school for ever without creating an everlasting impression.” “My dear Anne, I can hardly believe that Snape will ever forget you.” Patience assured her friend. “C’mon, it’s our last chance before we are doomed to lead the dull lives of adults.” Anne reminded them. “Actually, it’s our last chance to get expelled, too, so why don’t we take it.” Patience suggested with an ironic undertone. Hengist, Fred and George smiled but Anne only gave her friend an angry look. “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll give him a year he won’t forget.” Anne promised.

“Seven years, he’ll never forget. I start feeling sympathy for him.” Patience pitied Snape. “Why aren’t you nice to him for a change. You could give him one good year. He might miss you for the rest of his life.” Patience thought aloud. Anne choked violently. “Do you want to spoil my whole day – the year or rather my whole life.” Anne scolded her. Anne stopped herself. “Wait a minute – a little flirt with Snape might be a nice trick for a start – but no, he doesn’t trust me. That would never work out. What a pity.” Anne sighed resting her face on her right hand gazing over to the teacher’s table. “I’ll have the time of my life.” Anne added dreamily.

 “Miss Wood, a word with you.” Snape asked Patience after dinner. “Seems I'm not needed around here.” Anne stated and strolled of happily. “Miss Symmons seems to be very happy. Is there a certain reason for her being so happy?” Snape asked in a low voice. “Professor, what do you mean?” Patience asked innocently. “She is up for a new trick, isn’t she. Must be something big – this time.” “Why do you always suspect her? No matter what she says you think she is lying.”

“Honesty is hardly ever heard, Miss Wood.” Snape mused. “You cannot deny that Miss Symmons has a certain pleasure in planning and later putting into reality tricks and pranks.” Snape added. “So she has a plan then…” “Stop it. It’s enough.” Patience burst out. “Let Anne be happy and be happy yourself.” Patience advised him. She felt badly cause she knew that Anne was up to something. This time Anne had kept her little plan as a secret. But Snape had been right, Anne was extremely happy.

“This will work out wonderfully?” Anne said happily. “Com’on, Anne, tomorrow is Thursday and you haven’t told us what you want to do, yet.” Hengist complained. “I won’t tell you, this time.” Anne told them triumphantly. When Patience and Anne entered the dormitory Patience took her friend aside. “Snape is suspicious, Anne. If anything happens tomorrow he’ll get at you.” “Why not.” Anne said mockingly and went to sleep.

The next morning Anne got up especially early and sneaked out of Gryffindor tower. Silently she opened the door to the potion’s classroom down in the cold dungeons. “Let’s see.” She whispered. “Right in the middle of this beautiful desk.” She added waving her wand. A vase with red and yellow tulips appeared. Anne looked at her work. “No.” She decided. “What did Master Robert Burns say ‘My Love is like a red red rose…’” Anne waved her wand. Six beautiful red roses appeared. “Too obvious.” Anne sighed. “Flower.” Anne sighed. “Discrete – that’s what I want.” She whispered. Again she waved her wand.

“Just perfect.” She commented looking at a bunch of beautiful sunflowers yellow, white and red. Anne turned around and left. She stopped in front of Snape’s office. She took a careful look through the keyhole. “I knew he wasn’t around.” Pointing at the keyhole Anne whispered a longer spell. Hurriedly she went back to Gryffindor tower. She got undressed and went back to bed. Five minutes later Patience woke up. “Morning Anne.” Patience said sleepily. “Morning.” Anne yawned. Slowly the two got up – like everybody else in the dormitory. “You know you could do something harmless – nobody knows your plan.” Patience suggested. “No way – this is going to be too much fun.” Anne replied winking at her friend. “I won’t leave your side and as soon as you did your spell I will undo it.” Patience informed her friend. Anne didn’t react.

Anne didn’t talk too much during breakfast that day. “I’m dying to know what you’ll do.” Fred whispered. Anne gave him a smile. “Ask Patience.” Anne advised him. Fred, George and Hengist turned to face Patience. “She didn’t tell me. Honestly.” Patience assured them. Anne had used the chance to get up. Patience hurried after her. “Where are you going to?” Patience wanted to know. “Common room, fetching my stuff.” Anne said. Patience kept her promise and followed Anne on every step.

She was so busy observing Anne that she didn’t notice the sunflowers at first. “Hey, where do those flowers come from? What does such a monstrous bunch of flowers in here?” Patience asked. “Monstrous?” Anne repeated questioningly. “I’d call them discrete.” “Oh no, tell me it wasn’t you.” Patience begged her. “It wasn’t you.” Anne replied grinningly. Patience put her head on the table. “What do you think, who gave Snape the flowers?” Hengist wanted to know. Patience looked up at him. “Just don't ask.” She said. Hengist knew that it must have been Anne then. He was disappointed he had hoped for a real big show. He sat down. Snape entered the classroom. “Today we’ll brew…” His eyes fell on the sunflowers and he stopped talking. He looked at Anne who smiled back at him. Snape decided to ignore the flowers, which wasn’t too easy cause they were really – like Patience had said - monstrous.

After the lesson Snape asked Anne to stay behind. “Now Miss Symmons, when will these flowers explode?” “I didn’t know that sunflowers explode.” Anne replied. “You don’t want to tell me that they are not bewitched.” Snape snarled. “They don’t look bewitched to me.” Carefully Anne took one flower out of the vase. Immediately it led hang down her head. “Clearly not bewitched.” Anne stated and put it back. “Somebody seems to like you.” Anne said cheerfully. “Somebody?” Snape asked puzzled. “Do you mean these flowers aren’t from you?” “Me. Professor, you make me blush.” Anne said but overdid the surprised-shocked voice. “Stop mocking.” Snape warned her. “If they are not bewitched then you can take them with you.” Snape suggested. “You want to give me those beautiful flowers?” Anne asked. “But they will only die being near me.” Snape took the vase and passed it to Anne. “Take it.” He ordered. “Thank you.” Anne cooed and left the dungeons.

Relieved Snape left the classroom and entered his office. “Oh no.” He whispered looking at the thousands of sunflowers which seemed to fill every centimetre of his office. “It must have been her.” Snape spat. “MISS SYMMONS!” Snape shouted. Anne turned around. “Yes?” Anne asked kindly. “WHAT ARE THESE?” Snape barked at Anne. “More sunflowers.” Anne said cheerfully. The sunflowers in the vase that Anne carried were slowly dying. “MISS SYMMONS THAT IS NOT FUNNY!” Snape went on. “No, that is lovely.” Anne cooed. “Romantic.” Anne added. Snape grabbed her arm and dragged Anne inside of his office. There wasn’t too much space left in the room. “MISS SYMMONS!” Snape barked. Anne looked innocently up at him. “GET THOSE FLOWERS OUT OF HERE!” “You want me too help. All right.” Anne passed him the vase with the by then dead sunflowers. Anne took out her wand, waved it and smiled at Snape.

“Hope it is all right, that I transferred them to your private rooms.” Anne said and quickly ran away. “MISS SYMMONS!” Snape barked after her but she had gone. Snape looked at the vase in his hand which contained the dead sunflowers. Unnerved he threw it in the trashcan. “At last it is her final year at this school.” Reluctantly he trodded upstairs to his private rooms. Prepared for the worst he opened the door. Nothing, there was nothing. No sunflowers. “That earns her a detention. Lying to a teacher. I’ll make it something nice for her.” Snape said happily. “Sunflowers. Well if you like sunflowers, Miss Symmons, then you’ll do something with them.” Snape whispered conspiratorially. “I think I’d like a field of colourful sunflowers. And all done the muggle-way. Oh how I’ll enjoy the sight of her preparing the field.” Snape said most happily.

“Time for lunch.” Anne stated happily. “Hasn’t it been one of the most pleasing days so far?” Anne asked her friends. “What was it all about – the sunflowers I mean.” Hengist wanted to know. “Sunflowers?” Fred asked in disbelief. “Yes, sunflowers.” Patience sighed. “You bewitched them, didn’t you?” George wanted to know. “Nope.” Anne replied. “Poisoned?” Fred whispered. “Nope.” Anne replied. “Just a boring bunch of stupid sunflowers.” Hengist said in a disappointed voice.

“What did Snape do with the flowers?” Patience wanted to know. “Which sunflowers?” Anne asked casually. “On his desk.” Patience replied and looked questioningly at her friend. “I just thought you were talking of the sunflowers in his office.” Anne remarked. “You put a bunch of sunflowers in his office?” Hengist asked in disbelief. “Yes, and another one and another and…” Anne listed. Patience choked. “How many bunches of sunflowers?” Patience asked. “I didn’t count them.” Anne replied. “Well, how many would that be in terms of percentage of his office?” Patience asked carefully. “Well about 99 percent.” Anne said thoughtfully.

Hengist’s mouth fell open. “You’re not serious about that, Anne?” Patience whispered. “Might have been 98,9 or 99,1 percent.” Anne gave in. “Miss Symmons since you have a natural talent with plants and seem to especially like sunflowers and doing me little favours, could you be so kind to prepare a field of sunflowers the muggleway of course – just in case you intend to refuse, this is your detention for lying to a teacher.” Snape snarled and strolled off.

Anne sighed. “I think I will miss my detentions one day.” “Yeah, ten years after school is over when you’ll finished your last one. “He didn’t tell you when you have to do it.” Hengist remarked. Fred and George nodded. “I’ll better ask him.” Anne thought aloud and stood up. Before she went towards the teacher’s table she stopped at the Hufflepuff’s. “What is she doing now?” Hengist moaned when he realized that she took a vase with summer flowers from their table. Smiling gaily she approached Snape. Placing the flowers in front of him – this time she had hurried that the flowers would still be a live by the time she reached the table she started to speak. “When will I have to commit my detention?” She asked politely. “Commit isn’t the right verb.” Snape informed her. “Oh, don’t you commit murder?” Anne asked shyly. “Usually I don’t but I might make an exception for you.” Snape replied in his deep and dangerous voice. “Very funny indeed.” Anne said not smiling at all.

“Well, what’s the point of people committing murders?” Snape asked. “I am as deadly to a plant – any plant as a murderer to his victim. My next detention must be committed – logically.” Anne explained. “Saturday and if you don’t take those awful flowers with you when you leave then Sunday as well.” Snape snarled. “What time?” Anne wanted to know. “8 o’clock.” Snape said. Anne took the vase with the flowers and carried it back to Hufflepuff table. Patience shook her head.

 “Detention-time!” Anne exclaimed happily at six o’clock a.m. in the girls’ dormitory. “Shut up, Anne!” Catherine whispered sleepily. Patience had opened one of her eyes. And watched her friend. “How can you be so happy, having a detention early on a Saturday morning and with Snape?” Patience said into her cushion. Suddenly she was wide-awake. She sat straight in her bed. “You didn’t prepare another prank?” She asked  in her normal voice. “If you want to talk go out!” Ghewyn told them. Anne smiled mysteriously. “Maybe.” “You must have gone mad. I’d plead on unsound mind if I were you.” Patience commented. And fell back into her bed.

Silently Anne got dressed. Patience couldn’t sleep any longer. And so she decided to get up, as well. She joined Anne on her way down to the Great Hall. It was empty. Patience and Anne sat down at their usual places. They had orange and pumpkin juice and chatted the time merrily away until Snape entered the hall. Anne watched every single step of his smiling in the happiest way. Snape chose to ignore them. When he had almost reached the teachers’ table Anne called for him. “Professor, why don’t you come and join us?” She asked pointing at the Gryffindor table. For a second Snape hesitated. It was quarter past seven on a Saturday he was pretty sure that neither student nor a teacher would show up.

Slowly he walked over to the Gryffindor table. He sat down next to Patience. “Patience, please pass me the glass of our guest. Professor, what may I serve you orange or pumpkin juice or do you rather have some tea?” Anne asked kindly. “You poisoned the food or drinks on this table, didn’t you?” Snape asked scanning Anne carefully. “Well, I didn’t, did you, Patience?” Patience shook her head. “What’s the trick behind all that?” Snape asked in an angry voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Anne replied still holding Snape’s glass in her hand. “Your show, your acting like you would be kind or like me.” Snape explained still angry. “Oh, I see. That’s the fault of our friend Patience. She suggested since I haven’t been very kind to you so far I might try to be more agreeable for a change. Orange or pumpkin juice?” Anne asked.

“Tea.” Snape snarled, took the teapot and filled the cup standing in front of him. Anne put the glass back on the table. “I hope you slept well last night. Had some nice dreams?” That was the point where Snape choked. “Did you bewitch her?” Snape asked Patience once he had recovered. “No!” Patience replied in an upset voice. “Bread?” Anne asked offering the little basket to Snape. Reluctantly he took a slice of dark bread. “Butter?” Anne asked next. Snape took it. Just as Anne opened her mouth again Snape started. “Stop it Miss Symmons. It’s enough.” Anne remained silent as they all continued their breakfast.

“Patience what are your plans for the day?” Anne addressed her friend. “Well since you are busy otherwise today, Hengist, Verres, Fred, George, Lee and I have decided to talk about quidditch – strategies, teams and players.” Patience reported. “Sounds nice.” Anne said – not very convincingly. “Just promise to finish when I get back.” Anne added. “One detention per day is enough.” Patience said laughingly, which earned her an angry look of Snape. “Professor, what have you planned once I have finished my detention?” Anne wanted to know. “That’s none of your business.” Snape spat at her. “STOP IT!” Patience shouted. “If you want to quarrel that’s all right with me – just wait until I’ve left the hall.” Patience added and left. Before Snape could comment on this Anne had left the table, as well.

“Patience, I’m sorry.” Anne apologized. “What did you do that for?” Patience asked unnerved. “You asked me to be nice.” Anne reminded her. “You knew it wouldn’t work out.” Patience scolded her. “I can upset him so easily.” Anne reported. “Then why don’t you slow down and be less provoking?” Patience suggested. “Anything I’ll do will provoke him. It’s much more fun if I enjoy it.” Anne defended herself. “Anne is that worth the detentions you’ll get?” Anne was up to say ‘yes’ but something told her that that wasn’t what Patience wanted to hear. “I don’t know.” She replied instead. “Just leave me out of it.” Patience whispered knowing what Anne thought.

“You’re not angry, are you?” Anne asked carefully. “No.” Patience replied more agreeable. “You know I don’t like him. But I think less might be more.”  Patience revealed. Anne shrugged. They had reached Gryffindor tower. “I’ll change my dress.” Anne told her friend. When she returned she wore a pair of shabby trousers and an old flannel shirt, which looked like it had belonged to her father at one point in history. She had arranged her hair into a ponytail. “What do I look like?” Anne asked seriously. “You look like a muggle garden-gnome.” Patience informed her. Anne gave her a smile and left.

Down in the entrance hall Snape was waiting for her. “We’ll have to go to Hagrid first to get the needed tools.” Snape informed her as he opened the door. Hagrid was outside talking to Fang and repairing the roof of his hut. “Good morning Hagrid!” Anne called. “Mornin’ gal. Wha’ are ye doin’ out ‘ere so earle?” He asked without looking at her. “Detention duty.” Anne replied. Hagrid turned. “Good Mornin’ prefesser.” He greeted Snape. “Good morning, we’ll need some gardening tools if you please.” Snape started. Hagrid climbed down the ladder.

“Wha’ did ye de this time?” Hagrid wanted to know when they fetched the tools in the little shed. “I got it for lying.” Anne reported. “I didn’ know ye were a liar!” Hagrid exclaimed in a surprised voice. “Professor Snape asked me to remove some sunflowers from his office. I told him I had sent them to his private rooms, which I hadn’t done.” “Ye don’ know hoe the flo’ers got into ‘is office?” Hagrid asked carefully. Anne gave him an innocent smile. “Ye’ll get yerself expelled in yer last year at ‘Ogwarts.” Hagrid commented. He helped her carrying a shovel, a spade, a hoe…

“Where do you want to locate the field?” Anne asked. “I don’t care.” Snape replied indifferently. He had brought himself a chair and a book (‘Potions through the ages’). Comfortably he sat down and started reading. Anne looked up the castle and decided that this was exactly the right place for a field of flowers. She marked the border of the field with the spade. Next she took the hoe and removed the turf.

After an hour Snape stood up and took a look at the work in progress. Anne was busy breaking up the earth. “You made Miss Wood very angry this morning.” Snape said triumphantly. “We both made her angry, I’d say.” Anne retorted. “Actually it was entirely your fault.” Anne added. “My fault, indeed.” Snape repeated in disbelief and an air of arrogance. “I was nice and you were…” Anne paused turning to Snape. Seeing his glaring eyes she decided not to say rude. “…suspicious.” “You say that if I had played along nothing had happened?” “I was neither playing nor acting. If you have to play or act to show agreeable manners then…”

Anne stopped cause Patience came walking by. “Then what?” Snape wanted to know ready to give Anne another detention. “Not now. I promised Patience not to quarrel with you as long as she is around.” Anne replied and went on with her work. Snape who was sure that Anne was either not intelligent enough to think of something or too cowardly to add it went back to his chair and continued the reading of his book. “Did he tell you to prepare the field here?” Patience whispered. Anne shook her head. “Are you mad. How could you locate it here?” Patience asked in a louder voice. “No talking!” Snape ordered. “He’ll kill you.” Patience hissed. Anne shrugged. “I don’t think so.” “No more talking.” Snape warned them. “This time you provoked him.” “No more talking.” Anne repeated. Patience sighed and left.

When she had gone Anne turned to Snape. “…you should talk to your parents.” “Why?” “If you have to play or act to show agreeable manners, I mean.” “You better get on with your work.” Snape barked. Anne started making beautiful lines in which the seeds could be planted. Anne took the sunflower seeds. Every 15 cm she placed two seeds as was suggested. “Where are you going?” Snape spat as Anne trod off. “I’ll have to water the seeds.” She replied. Snape remained silent and Anne continued her way to the little shed to fetch the water-can and some water.

Slowly she carried the heavy can back to the field. She walked carefully through the lines watering the seeds. By the time she had finished it was half past eleven. Some students had been around but they had made sure not to get too close to Snape. Snape had another look at the field. “Get the tools back to Hagrid then you can go.” Snape said. Anne hurried off to Hagrid. Again he helped her with the tools. “Did prefesser Snape ask ye to prepare the field the’e?” “He said he wouldn’t care where I locate it.” Anne replied. “’E’ll be vere angre with ye.” Hagrid said. “Either he cares or he cares not.” Anne said indifferently.

Patience was sitting in the Great Hall. “Did you see where Anne placed the field?” Catherine wanted to know. “Yes.” Patience replied unnerved. “I thought Snape was watching her.” Ghewyn threw in. “He was – kind of.” Patience whispered. Anne entered the Great Hall by that time everybody knew where the field was located except Snape. The students stared at Anne whispering. McGonagall took Anne aside before she had reached her place at the Gryffindor table. “Miss Symmons, does professor Snape know where you located the field?” “He watched me while I did it.” “Didn’t he tell you where to place it?” “He didn’t care.” McGonagall shook her head but didn’t say anything else. Back at the teachers’ table she reported what Anne had told her. Anne placed herself among her fellow Gryffindor students.

It wasn’t until Sunday morning that Snape realized where Anne had located the flower field. He had just gotten up – still wearing his grey nightgown – he took a look out of the window. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. And right under his window Anne was watering the flower field. “I don’t believe it. This infantile girl.” Snape said to himself. He left his private rooms, Slytherin tower and the castle. When he reached the flower field Anne had gone. Furiously Snape went back to the castle. He didn’t go back to Slytherin tower, though. Gryffindor tower was his destination.

His knocking on the door of the common room sounded very angrily. “Who’s there?” A voice – Anne’s voice asked from inside. “PROFESSOR SNAPE!” Snape shouted. “Good morning, professor.” Anne cooed opening the door. “HAVE YOU GONE MAD?” Snape shouted. Anne stepped out of the common room. ‘Well, I’m not the one who wears a nightgown.’ Anne thought to herself. “Can I help you?” She asked instead. “IF YOU CAN HELP ME? HOW DARE YOU PLACING THE FLOWER FIELD UNDER MY WINDOW?” Snape went on shouting. “You told me you wouldn’t care.” Anne replied in a fake surprised voice. “AND YOU COULDN’T THINK OF ANYTHNG THEN PLACING IT UNDER MY WINDOW!” Anne shrugged. “It didn’t matter to me where this field was.” She added. “AND THEN YOU PLACE IT UNDER MY WINDOW?” Snape asked in disbelief. “Listen I can’t quarrel with you if you look like that.” Anne finally said grinning at Snape. He looked down at himself. He had completely forgotten that he was only wearing his nightgown. Blushing a little he went off. Anne went inside of the common room. Where she had a fit of laughter.

“What was that?” Hengist asked his friend. “I can’t tell you.” Anne replied still laughing. “Did you wake up because of this shouting, as well?” Patience asked still sleepily. Hengist nodded but Anne shook her head. “Sounded like Snape. Wonder which poor student was his victim this time.” Patience yawned. “It wasn’t a poor student. And wasn’t a victim either. Actually I’d say he was pretty amusing.” “Snape was amusing, didn’t sound like that to me.” Hengist threw in. “It was less what he said but what he looked like.” Anne replied. “What did he look like?” Patience wanted to know.

“He was wearing a grey nightgown.” Anne reported. “I’d gone blind if I had seen him like that.” Hengist thought aloud. “Oh Hengist, it was a nightgown with long sleeves, a high collar and it reached the floor. It didn’t give the slightest idea of Snape’s – figure.” “Anne how can you think of something like that talking of Snape?” Patience asked in a disgusted voice. “I didn’t. Hengist did.” Anne defended herself. Their discussion was interrupted by another angry knock.

“Who could that be?” Hengist wanted to know. “Must be him again.” Anne said thoughtfully. “Why did he come back?” Patience asked. “I told him I couldn’t…” Anne paused for a moment. “…talk to him when he looked like that.” Anne was sure that Patience would be angry with her if she knew that she had said ‘quarrel’. Hengist opened the door.

Of course it was Snape. Patience grinned cause his hair was in an awful mess and he looked like he had dressed in a hurry, which he obviously had done. “Have fun.” Patience whispered in Anne’s ear who started to grin immediately. She left the common room. “How could you do that?” Snape asked unnerved. “You told me you didn’t care. Don’t worry there will be no sunflowers anyway. Professor Sprout would have a fit, would be the first time that something I planted reached infancy.” Anne declared. “That’s not the point, Miss Symmons.” “What is the point then? You were out there with me. You didn’t notice where I worked. You didn’t care. I asked you where to locate the field. You didn’t care. You had a closer look at the field. You didn’t notice where I had placed it. You didn’t care. If you ask me the point is that you didn’t care.” Anne told Snape. Snape turned and went away.

Patience opened the door. “He forgot to give you a detention.” She whispered. Anne shrugged. “He even forgot to shout.” Hengist added. “I’ll get dressed.” Hengist said and went off. “The point is that he didn’t care?” Patience asked. “Oh Miss Wood, you eavesdropped. I’m shocked.” “That’s it, isn’t it?” “That is what?” Anne wanted to know. “You want Snape’s attention. Whenever you play a trick on him you’ll get his attention.” “You mix that up. I don’t get attention but a detention.” Anne replied. Patience shook her head. “You always complain that your parents don’t care about you and what you do. Snape is like a father for you.” Patience mused. “Don’t waste your psychological knowledge on me.” Anne spat and left the common room.

“Where has she gone?” Hengist asked when he returned. “Hengist, I have a theory…” Patience told him about her theory. “Could be true.” Hengist commented. “She didn’t like that theory?” Hengist wanted to know. “No.” Patience said. “But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t true, does it?” Patience asked carefully. “That’s right.” Hengist agreed. “Have you ever met Anne’s family?” Hengist suddenly asked. Patience shook her head. “She doesn’t talk too much about them, does she?” Hengist searched for reassurance. Patience nodded. “But she has a family?” “With House-Elves – if you can remember that.” Patience reminded him. “Yes, true. Does she keep a picture of them on her bedside locker?” “Of the House-Elves?” Patience asked laughingly.

“Patience c’mon, you know what I mean.” “There is no picture of what person whosoever.” Patience replied. “It sounds pretty sad.” Hengist remarked. “I don’t think that Anne is too unhappy about the situation apart from the fact that she keeps repeating that her parents do not care.” “Maybe it is their – and not Snape’s attention she wants to gain by doing all her tricks.” Hengist thought aloud. Patience shook her head. “Her parents don’t care about her tricks and pranks.”

“I just finished a letter to your parents, Miss Symmons.” Snape shouted after Anne when she rushed down the stairs. Hearing his voice she stopped and turned. Slowly Snape approached her wearing a kind of triumphant smile. Knowing that her parents would pay no attention to the letter – maybe just reading it and sighing ‘we’re so glad that there is Glenda we can be proud of’ Anne returned the smile. Snape stopped in front of her. “I’m sure your parents just know what to do with you.” He scanned her for any signs of fear or regret. “Do you really think that my parents will teach me manners now if they haven’t managed that in 18 years?” Anne asked. Just as Snape wanted to answer the staircase began to move. “I hate these things.” Anne whispered grabbing one of the banisters’. When it stopped it took some time until Snape had recollected his thoughts and ideas. “Your parents can’t be that ignorant, Miss Symmons!” Snape snarled.

Oh yes, they could. They didn’t bother to send Anne a letter or a howler, which would have been an appropriate reaction. They did send a letter to Snape, though, telling him that it was the school’s and therefore the teachers' and his own fault if there was a lack of manner noticed in their daughter. Just when Snape had received this letter and read it – twice cause he couldn’t believe such impertinence to exist somebody knocked gently at the door of his office. “YES!” He barked.

Carefully the door was pushed open by a student – a Gryffindor student. “What do you want?” Snape spat at her. “I just saw the owl post arriving…” Patience accompanied by her loyal cat Bethesda started. Snape glared at her ignoring the cat completely. “…Anne told me that you sent a letter to her parents. Since Anne hasn’t gotten anything so far – I thought they might have sent a letter to you.” Patience explained. “That’s none of your business.” Snape barked. Bethesda spat back at him. Snape looked at her. “Anne thinks her parents won’t react at all and I…” “I doubt that Miss Symmons is thinking.” Snape cut in.

Patience didn’t let that remark stop her. She was determined to find out about the answer if there was one. She entered the office and closed the door. Carefully she walked over to Snape’s desk where he was sitting – still holding the respective letter. Bethesda followed her. Patience hoped to catch a glimpse on the piece of parchment to find out if it was sent by Anne’s parents. She looked at it. “Then they have already answered.” She remarked pointing at the parchment – not knowing if it really was what she had hoped it would be.

Snape drew it back. “It isn’t a sign of good manners to read other people’s letters, Miss Wood.” “I didn’t read it – I simply guessed and your behaviour shows me that this guess was right.” Patience replied. “Very impressing, Miss Wood. Now you can go back to your friend Miss Symmons and tell her that I got a letter from her parents.” Snape spat as he looked down at the letter again. Patience cleared her throat. Snape looked up at her. “Still here, Miss Wood? I bet your friend will be very curious to hear the news.” “Are they angry with Anne?” Patience asked. “I told you before that this is none of your business.”

Patience helped herself and took a seat in one of the surrounding chairs. Bethesda jumped on her lap and watched the action. “You plan to stay here for longer?” Snape asked angrily. “That will depend on you, professor. I don’t plan to leave before you told me what Anne’s parents wrote to you.” Patience informed the surprised professor. “I’ll give you a detention if you don’t leave immediately.” Snape warned her. “You can give me a dozen detentions – I won’t leave.” Patience replied in a self-confident voice. “That would be an option, indeed, a dozen detentions.” Snape mused scanning Patience from tip to toe.

Meanwhile a voice inside Patience’s head scolded her for being so forward. “Why do you want to know what Miss Symmons’ parents wrote to me, did she send you?” Snape wanted to know. Patience shook her head. After an awful long pause in which Snape’s eyes had rested on Patience who didn’t dare to move a single muscle not speaking of breathing or showing any sign of her feeling uncomfortable Snape raised his voice again. “Well if you don’t tell me why you want to see it…” Snape put the letter away. “Wait.” Patience burst out. “We are both grown ups and there is no reason why we couldn’t talk plain about the matter, right?”

Although Snape doubted the fact that Patience was grown up he gave her a single nod. “And – the matter – is?” He asked. “Anne feels a little bit neglected by her parents. It would be good if she knew that they do care for her.” Snape had another look at the letter before he started to read it out aloud to his young companion.

“Professor Snape, we see no reason to take any action concerning the behaviour of our daughter you reported to us with your letter. Her behaviour – or as you called it lack of behaviour – lies completely in your responsibility. Our other daughter Glenda is famous for her kindness and perfect manners in public as well as in private parties. Since all that differs in the upbringing of our two daughters is the schools they attend it is clear to us that it is the school’s and the teachers’ – therefore your fault professor – if you notice a lack of good behaviour in our daughter. Signed Mr. And Mrs Symmons.”

Patience had gone pale. ‘How could anybody write such a rude letter?’ She thought to herself. “Satisfied?” Snape asked. Patience put Bethesda on the floor, stood up and reached for the door. “Miss Wood, if you really want to do a favour to your friend, then teach her good manners. She’ll be in need of them.” Snape warned her.

Patience stopped and turned around. “Are you very angry with Anne?” Patience asked. Snape was surprised of the student’s direct question. “Miss Symmons doesn’t behave…” “I don’t want to talk about her behaviour.” Patience interrupted him. “What then?” “Are you very angry with Anne?” Patience repeated her question. Snape remained silent. “Anne being the person she is, does she make you angry?” Patience asked again. “If she wasn’t a student and I wasn’t a teacher – no. But she is a student and I am a teacher.” Snape explained. “What do you think of her – as a person not as a student?” Patience inquired.

Snape looked at her. “What are all these questions about?” Snape wanted to know. “Do you like her or don’t you?” Patience cleared things a little. “Let me put it this way she is a very clever young woman – just like her friend. The problem is that she only uses this cleverness to think of new pranks – again just like her friend.” Snape replied observing Patience’s reactions. “Would you pay her attention if she stopped doing her tricks?” Patience asked without hesitation. “Why should I?” Snape asked. “Sure, why should you.” Patience repeated and left with her cat. “Those children are strange.” Snape remarked to himself.

Patience went back to the common room. “You ran so fast away that the poor owl couldn’t deliver this letter to you.” Hengist reported and handed his friend the letter. She thanked him. She didn’t read it, though. She just put it in her pocket. “Anything wrong with you?” Hengist wanted to know. “Snape got a letter from Anne’s parents.” “Well that’s great. I knew they’d care about her.” Hengist said happily. “It was a very rude letter. They won’t do anything.” “They don’t care that Snape is angry with their daughter?” Hengist asked in disbelief. “Nope, not at all. And even worse Snape wouldn’t pay attention to Anne if she stopped playing her tricks.” Patience sighed.

 

Chocolate Frog Cards

Although the Magpies were in their seventh year, they still loved Chocolate frogs – complete with cards. Patience had given her second set of cards to her brother and was now trying to find out how many Dumbledore-cards you could get in just 20 frogs. They were sitting on the stairs leading up to the Entrance Hall and unwrapping frogs when the Slytherin trio strode over the lawn. “Hey, the treacherous three are coming,” Anne exclaimed. Patience looked up. “So what?” she asked. Hengist grinned. “Another Dumbledore. Oh, wait, he’s gone – does it still count?” “What name is written on the card? See, there’s Dumbledore, so it does count,” Patience patiently explained.

“Aren’t you a bit old for that?” Vargas sneered, standing with folded arms in front of the three Gryffindors. “You’re standing in my light,” Hengist testily told him. Vargas laughed. “Am I? Funny, Alret, how you can talk.” Lazily he bent down, accompanied by supporting sniggers from Banks and Cook, and picked up a card. “Now, let me see, who do I see? Hengist of Woodcroft. Hm… Have we ever thought of that, Roland, Sebastian?” The two looked at Vargas with blank stares. Vargas shrugged. “I will tell you later. Let us leave the babies to their childish games.” He turned briskly on his heel and went inside.

Banks stopped for a moment. “I never had a single Dumbledore card,” he said tentatively. Patience wordlessly held out one of her five Dumbledores. Banks took it, nodded and hurried away to find Cook and Vargas again. “Why did you give him the card?” Anne wanted to know. Patience shrugged. “He stared at me like a puppy – and maybe it’ll count for me the next time Snape gets at me.” “That hope is vain,” Hengist commented.

In the meantime the Slytherin trio had found a quiet niche in a corridor. “Ramon, would you tell us what you meant?” Banks asked eagerly. Vargas grinned mischievously. “A croft is a fenced piece of land, right?” he asked. Banks shrugged and Cook nodded, not sure why that was important. “You shall see what we make of this – oh yes, and I need your help,” Vargas added as an afterthought.

The outcome of their work could be admired the next morning: a huge banner hung in front of the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, announcing that ‘A new circus has been established, that of Mistress Wood, who holds a very rare species, an Alret, as her pet’. Of course, the text had been Vargas’ idea, and then, as it came to painting it on the banner, proved to be much too long to be all-too effective – it was enough, however, to make Mike and Brian speechless, as they were the first to see it. Mike turned back. “I’ll tell her – and Lady Alret, of course,” he shortly said. Brian stood guard in front of the banner, frightening some giggling first years to death by snapping at them to get lost and in general looking like a Beef-Eater on duty. Mike returned with the Magpies in his trail.

Anne took a deep breath. “Those idiots,” she hissed. Patience frowned. “I simply don’t understand,” she admitted. Hengist looked close to committing murder. “They refer to the frog-card,” he hissed, clenching his fists. “Which frog-card?” Patience asked, still not getting the clue. Anne groaned. “Happy are those who do not see the wood because of single trees,” she told her friend who blushed but shrugged. “Hengist of Woodcroft,” Anne added. Patience grinned. “Now I see! I’m keeping Hengist in a wood-enclosure! Waycool.”

Hengist and Anne first stared at her, but when Mike and Brian began to laugh they joined in. “I wonder how you cannot be at all offended,” Mike said when they had recovered. “It’s not worth it,” Patience stated calmly, but Anne looked a bit more closely at her friend and saw the unmistakeable sign for her being furious deep inside: green eyes. “Let’s go to have breakfast,” Hengist resolved, as well as Anne aware of Patience’s real feelings. “That means war,” Patience hissed through clenched teeth once she spotted the bright grin of the Slytherins. “Not before breakfast,” Hengist said and ignored the sniggers. “Hey, Alret, does your mistress allow you to eat?” called Banks. Hengist said nothing, but Anne turned and stared at Banks so that he went brick-red and the smile vanished from his face.

“Well, ladies, let’s think of a way to get it back at them,” Brian conversationally suggested while ladling porridge onto his plate. Anne grinned. “You’re not in this, you know – technically it’s only about Patience and Hengist,” she reminded him. At that moment Fred and George joined them. ”What’s that about?” Fred asked, jerking his head towards the laughing and whispering Slytherin table. “Actually it’s about the banner you can’t have missed,” Patience said, relaxing a little. “You’re not keeping him as a pet,” George laughed. “No. My pet is Bethesda,” Patience agreed. Oliver groaned. “She visited me last night, dear Bethesda, and woke me up just to jump off the bed again.” “Really? I wonder why,” Patience answered but was not really interested in her cat’s escapades.

“Okay, as Anne pointed out, it’s only about Patience and Hengist,” Brian changed topics again. “But actually I think it is an assault on the whole of Gryffindor – especially on our class!” “Yes,” Fred nodded. “We must do something,” George added enthusiastically. “Hey, thanks, but we can deal with this alone, I think,” Hengist quickly threw in. “You can – but you don’t have to, Alret, really, we are happy to help,” Mike assured him. “Let’s talk tonight, okay?” Hengist asked. “I’m just too angry right now to come up with something good.”

 All day long, the Magpies were thinking hard of ways of revenging themselves. “It must be something really… I don’t know, spectacular?” Patience thought aloud. “A real eye-opener, you mean?” Anne enquired. Patience nodded. “Yes. Something Hogwarts hasn’t seen yet.” “That fits nicely in with our plan of leaving with a year to remember for all times,” Hengist chuckled. “Yes, a year to remember – so far, it’s been a year to remember for embarrassment,” Patience sighed. “Cheer up – you’ll get it back at them, and then they will be remembered as the three greatest idiots that have ever strolled around this venerable school,” Hengist consoled his friend.

Patience laughed and patted Hengist’s arm gratefully. “What would I do without you?” she asked fondly. “Make that cat of yours do the tricks he does,” Vargas suggested smugly from the seat behind them. Patience scowled and turned around. “Vargas – if you’re a frustrated guy, then try to get a special men’s magazine – but don’t take it out on me!” Vargas blushed fiercely, and Anne and Hengist sniggered. “Quit talking, please,” Professor Kettleburn called over and so Vargas had no chance to retaliate.

In the evening neither of the students in the plot cared about homework. Fred, George, Brian, Mike, Hengist, Anne and Patience had secured their favourite chairs in front of the fireplace and compared their ideas. “We put stinkfern into the Slytherin dormitory,” Mike suggested. “Yeah – just how do you get the thing in there without throwing up first?” Anne wanted to know. Mike looked crestfallen. “Cheer up, Mike, we’ll find something. What about telling Peeves to cause havoc?” Patience asked. “The problem there is that Peeves is likely to do exactly the reverse of what you ask him,” Hengist pointed out.

“Oh. Right, I had forgotten. Another ghost?” “Not in the Bloody Baron’s territory, Patience,” Brian laughed. “Bulbadox powder,” George threw in. “No. We had that – it’s no good to remind people of our supplies,” Patience promptly told him. “Supplies?” George looked at her with keen interest. She smiled mysteriously. “Maybe you will inherit this,” she said. “Ooooh, Patience is doing Trelawney,” Mike teased her. Brian began promptly to chant a little song, reminding everyone of the last year, when there had been the little incident with Trelawney: “And shall Trelawney live, or shall Trelawney die?” Hengist joined in until the girls told them to stop at once.

“Any useful comments?” Anne asked. “What about these?” Fred put a toad on the table. Hengist grinned and fetched Mungus out of his pocket. “Look – I’ve got one too, and mine is…” “Bigger, yes, quit that, boys,” Patience giggled. “What about the toad?” Brian asked, trying to keep his face straight. “Pick it up,” Fred said. Brian blinked. “Pardon?” “Pick it up,” Fred repeated. Brian leaned forward and took the toad in his hand. With a small pop, another toad appeared on the table, and when Brian fetched this as well, two toads replaced the ones he held in his hand. Brian put the toads back to the table, but the three additional toads did not vanish and he could not find out which one had been the original.

Fred beamed proudly at the toads, took out his wand and vanished three of them so that only one was left. “Brilliant,” Anne attested him. Fred bowed mockingly. “It’s Multiplying Toads, but the name’s too obvious, we need to come up with something else,” he explained. George grinned. “And we can do that with any animal you like – spiders, worms…” “Worms, okay, spiders is a no-no,” Patience quickly threw in, much to the other’s amusement. “Other ideas?” Anne asked, smiling at the toad that hopped into Fred’s hand without producing new toads.

“I’ve got this,” Brian said, banging a green slimeball on the table. “I know these,” Patience grinned. Hengist nodded. “They’re great – one of Zonko’s finest.” “Yes, and I’ve got some twenty of them, Mike’s got ten, should be enough,” Brian reported. “Good. We could also throw some Filibuster’s fireworks into the dormitories at night,” Anne suggested. “Throw?” George asked puzzled. Anne shrugged. “Yes, well, not really throw. Let them fly into the rooms.” “That should be enough,” Hengist said thoughtfully. “If our prefect says so,” Brian grinned. Hengist shrugged. “Prefect or not – they’ve been ruining my reputation.”

 That night ten tiny toads made their way to Slytherin. By mid-morning, about one hundred toads were filling the corridor towards Slytherin, and Professor Flitwick stood there and marvelled at the fabulous spell-work. Only when Filch the caretaker nearly got a heart-attack did the professor remove the toads – all save one he managed to put into his pocket without multiplying it again.

This afternoon, a notice appeared on all house-boards asking those responsible for the toads to come to Flitwick – no punishment to be expected. Fred and George nevertheless stayed wisely where they were. “We’ll tell him after all the things are done,” they told the Magpies. “Okay. What about the slimeballs, Mike, Brian?” Hengist asked. “All done,” Brian laughed. “And they’ll love them – Filch has banned them ages ago, and yet they do turn up, isn’t it dreadful? Do something, prefect,” Mike added jokingly. Hengist smiled. “I could begin by scourgifying the corridor.” All burst into laughter.

Unfortunately, this was exactly the thought of some Slytherin first years frightened of Filch. To their utmost surprise, the balls did not vanish but grew. Of course Filch, being a Squib, knew perfectly well that nothing but picking them up, as ugly as this task might be, helped this particular pest. But nobody reported the slimeballs to the caretaker before they had grown as big as cabbages. “Someone is doing this to provoke us,” Vargas fumed. At that moment a slimeball exploded, spraying some carefully chosen words on the wall: “Vargas is a slimy git”.

Snape, who happened to pass by, stopped to read. “Someone doesn’t like you,” he commented. Vargas nodded. “But if you retaliate, Mr Vargas, you will get into trouble,” the teacher went on, leaving Vargas, Banks and Cook flabbergasted.

As if a curse had hit the dormitories of Slytherin, sleep seemed to have fled them. All through the night fireworks exploded, waking those who had managed to drowse a little. Down below on the lawn the Magpies were sitting and aiming the fireworks, although very tired themselves, until the early hours of the morning. That was enough for Snape.

He called Vargas, Banks and Cook into his office the next day. Even in his rooms some fireworks had landed – directed there by Anne. “Now, do you have any idea who is behind these attacks?” Snape asked, leaning forward and examining the faces of the three students. Banks opened his mouth, but Vargas tread on his foot warningly. “No, sir,” Banks said. Snape frowned. “Are you sure?” Cook nodded. Snape sighed frustrated. “I think you do have an idea,” he tried again, hoping that his least favourite students, the Magpies, would be named. But Vargas did not do him this favour. “Really, we can’t tell. And who knows what would have appeared written if Mr Filch hadn’t collected the slimeballs before they exploded?” Vargas reasonably explained. “I assume you are right. Well, then… go now.” Snape leaned back in deep disappointment.

Outside the office, Banks grabbed Vargas’ arm. “Why didn’t you tell him it was revenge for the banner?” he demanded. Vargas laughed bitterly. “Just because of that – it is revenge. We couldn’t have done anything, you see, without getting into trouble ourselves.”

Another interview between students and teachers was much more favourable. Flitwick sat listening in rapt attention to Fred and George’s tale of the toads. “And can you tell me how you did that spell without ever having been taught?” the professor asked. “No. That’s our business, professor, and we can’t tell you our secrets,” Fred denied the answer. Flitwick looked disappointed but at the same time very excited. He hoped he had found two extraordinarily talented wizards in the twins – even though they used their talents more for mischief than for anything else.

While Fred and George enjoyed their glory, the Magpies were sitting on the lawn again, again very tired but also absolutely sure to have made some lasting impression. “Tell me, how did all this begin?” Anne asked dreamily, playing with a card she held in her hand. “With these,” Patience said, taking the card from Anne and grinning, seeing who it was. She held it out to Hengist. “Here, Hengist – I’m releasing you from my circus!”

 

 My Vegetable Love

“Who will take you out for the Hogsmeade weekend?” Catherine enquired curiously. Anne laughed. “I don’t need to be taken for a walk – I’m not a dog!” Catherine grinned. “No. But what about a boyfriend?” Anne shrugged. “Hengist?” she called. Hengist turned around. “What?” “Are we going to Hogsmeade together?” Anne asked. Hengist frowned. ”Sure,” he replied and shook his head in a manner that made clear how absurd he thought the question. Anne turned back to Catherine. “See?” she said satisfied. Catherine only laughed and got up to walk to Nelly and Ghewyn. Anne tried to concentrate on her Transfiguration-homework, but she could not keep her thoughts together.

Yes, what about a boyfriend? Hengist was a friend, but certainly not a boyfriend. And Greg… Greg was an embarrassment. Who could figure as a boyfriend? Thoughtfully, Anne put her quill to her chin and tapped lightly. She watched all the boys in the Common Room. Next to the fire sat Mike and Brian, watching fire lizards running up and down the flames and occasionally poking them with the poker. They were far too childish to be boyfriends, Anne decided. Connor, sitting in front of a pile of books, looking miserable. No. She could do well without a fretting whining boyfriend. That left only John. But Anne shuddered at the very thought of being John’s girlfriend.

“Anne? Anne!” Patience gently shook her friend. “Your chin is all green,” she laughed. “What were you thinking of?” Patience let herself fall into the chair opposite Anne. “I was thinking about who could be a good boyfriend,” Anne said honestly. Patience stared at her friend incredulously. “I beg your pardon?” Anne smiled ruefully. “Cathy asked who would accompany me to Hogsmeade.” “Stupid question – Hengist and me,” Patience replied promptly. ”Yes exactly. It seems Cathy’s got a boyfriend.” “Didn’t you know that?” Patience retorted surprised. Anne groaned. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you were gathering gossip again!” Patience shook her head. “It is very valuable to know the gossip in the school,” she said wisely. “Even Dumbledore listens to gossip!” “That doesn’t say it’s okay – our headmaster does many things that we are not to do,” Anne murmured.

Patience chose to ignore her words. “Anyway,” she went on unimpressed, “Cathy’s boyfriend is Ryan Reese of Hufflepuff.” “Ryan Reese?” Anne asked, trying to get a face to the name. “He does Care of Magical Creatures with us, Anne, the tall, dark-haired one,” Patience tried to help. “Oh, the one with the huge gap between his front teeth,” Anne said, smiling. “Exactly,” Patience agreed. Anne shook her head. “I wouldn’t want him as a boyfriend, either.” “Oh, come off it, why so obsessed with boyfriends?” Patience asked and brushed her hair out of her face. Anne looked at her friend. “You’re well off, at any move of your little finger you’ll have David Bantam at your feet.” “But I don’t want him at my feet,” Patience said calmly. “Who would you want?” “Hengist, but that’s impossible,” Patience replied fast enough to convince Anne of her sincerity.

They sat in silence for a while. “Tell you what, we’re just not normal,” Anne suddenly said. Patience snorted. “Who wants to be normal?” “Not me, certainly, but we are 17 – and we’ve got no boyfriend!” “Yes, and we have years and years to come to find one,” Patience protested. “I’m not going to end an old spinster,” Anne went on. Patience raised her hands. “Alright. We’ll go to the library after dinner and find some help there,” she suggested. “That’s Patience, always looking for help in books,” Brian fondly teased her. Patience shrugged. “You should sometimes open a book, it would do you good,” she remarked good-naturedly. Brian grinned. “What are you two beauties going to check?” “Nothing of importance to you – why did you sneak up to us like that?” Anne snapped. Brian looked taken aback. “Hey, no offence, Anne. I was just keen to get to know if the Magpies are planning a new prank. Seems not.” He shrugged, smiled at Patience and gave Anne a cautious glance, then slumped away to resume his seat next to Mike.

“Another one you could have at your feet,” Anne remarked sourly. Patience threw her quill at her friend but missed. “Poor aim,” Anne laughed. Patience shook her head half angry, half amused. “You are sometimes really, really stupid!”

 The library was almost deserted when Patience and Anne entered. Madam Pince looked up and nodded to them. “Over here,” Patience whispered and dragged Anne towards the shelves containing novels. “I hope you still remember the adventures with the vampire of Hyphenate Castle?” Anne hissed. Patience grinned. “I’m not going to show you trash – we’ve also got literature here!” And without delay she snatched a novel and began perusing it for relevant help to find a boyfriend. Anne sighed and followed suit – after all, it had been her eagerness to find help that had brought them here.

“I’ve got something,” Patience said and her eyes sparkled when she read out in a half-whisper: “It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.” “So we must find a young man with a large fortune?” Anne asked doubtingly. “A single man, not necessarily young, with a large fortune,” Patience corrected her. Anne sighed. “And that one looks for a wife – honestly, Patience, I wasn’t looking for a husband!” “Me neither. And anyway, I don’t know anyone with a good fortune,” Patience confessed. “I do – but we both don’t want him,” Anne darkly muttered. Patience thought for a moment, then it dawned on her: “Vargas,” she mouthed. Anne nodded grimly. “Okay – next try,” Patience said and laid the book aside.

Anne waited for her friend to go on. By now it was beginning to be fun. “What about this?” Patience asked and read: “He admires as a lover, not as a connoisseur.” Anne stared at her friend. “How is that to help us?” she wanted to know. Patience smiled slyly. “If we find someone who admires us for things that are perfectly normal, or not even done well, then we may be sure he is a lover – he can’t see things as they are!” “That includes John King, are you aware of that?” Anne asked. Patience shut the book with loud snap, which caused Madam Pince to clear her throat warningly, and put it back to its shelf. “Forget about it,” she decided.

The next book provided them with the eternal wisdom of “About thirty years ago, Miss Maria Ward of Huntingdon, with only seven thousand pounds had the good luck to captivate Sir Thomas Bertram, of Mansfield Park, and to be thereby raised to the rank of a baronet’s lady, with all the comforts and consequences of an handsome house and large income”. It did not help them much, only told them that great good looks were required more than money, and a good deal of luck. “Are we beautiful?” Patience asked doubtingly. “What is beauty?” Anne retorted philosophically. “Not me,” Patience sighed and grinned. “But then – who wants to be a doll?”

Another line showed that pretending not to care endeared a girl to men. “That does work – confer Greg,” Anne remarked. Patience groaned. “Or David!” “You do care about him,” Anne said at once. Patience blushed. “I do care when he plays against Gryffindor – we must win against him,” she said a bit too fast. Anne grinned but held her tongue.

Instead she opened the book she had been holding for a time. She laughed out loud, causing Madam Pince to come around and tell them to leave if they were about to make a ruckus. Anne decided to borrow the book anyway, and so she and Patience left. It was high time, they saw when they crossed the yard. Only five minutes later, and they couldn’t possible have been back at Gryffindor Tower by 9 p.m. The Common Room was still crowded, there were people doing homework, people playing Exploding Snap, people talking and laughing. Anne and Patience exchanged a glance. “Bedroom?” Patience enquired, but already knew the answer and was confirmed by Anne’s short nod.

When they were sitting on their four-poster beds, Anne began to read out: “For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love.” Patience laughed out loud. “What?” she asked. “It’s from a poem by Donne,” Anne revealed. “For God’s sake hold your tongue, and let me love?” Patience repeated. ”I can’t believe it!” “Oh, but doesn’t it fit in nicely? Stupid girls, beautiful ones, always find a boyfriend easily. Intelligent ones, such as we are, never do,” Anne said but laughed at her own words. “Us poor bluestockings!” Patience joined in. “It’s a bit late to cover up our being clever,” Anne remarked. Patience shrugged. “Doesn’t matter – there is a life after school, Anne,” she said as if revealing a great mystery. “Really? Tell me more about it,” Anne replied but was already looking for more advice in her volume of poetry. “My Kingdom, safeliest when with one man manned” did not help them but caused them to laugh uproariously. “Oh, oh listen to that,” Anne cried out: “My vegetable love still grows!” “Oh, is it a carrot? Or a cucumber even?” Patience joked. Anne was shaking with laughter. Tears were running down her cheeks, and one hit the page of the book when she said, “I wish I could meet somebody who was talking like that!”

As the others entered the bedroom, Anne quickly hid the book under her cushion and she and Patience settled down to sleep. Patience dreamed of a row of men coming towards her, each with a present for her: one held a box of jewels, another a box of money, yet another a box filled with black smoke veiling a full moon, and the last a set of crystal phials. Patience smiled in her sleep and cuddled deeper in her blankets. The last one wore a dark hood, but eyes were resting with a fond smile on her, and the voice was telling her to come with him. In her dream, Patience promised to do so. The moonlight lit her face when she whispered in her sleep: “I shall never leave your side.”

 The next morning, Anne deeply regretted not having done her Transfiguration homework. Patience was fretting about the Runes translation she still had to do, and Hengist knew that it was better to leave them alone. “I’m going to Hogsmeade – want to come, too?” he asked cautiously. Patience only threw him a filthy look. “No,” Anne replied shortly. “Can I bring you anything?” Hengist enquired. “A new quill, and some Filibuster’s,” Anne said thoughtfully. Patience frowned. “Maybe some chocolate, and the latest issue of Quidditch Today,” she ordered. “Your will is my order,” Hengist laughed, bowed and went away. Soon the Common Room was delightfully empty and calm, it being a fine day. All the younger students not yet allowed to go to Hogsmeade, were out in the grounds.

Suddenly there was a noise upstairs as if someone was trying to move all the heavy trunks at once. “What is that?” Patience wondered aloud. Anne shrugged, but took out her wand. Then Bethesda came running down the stairs at high speed, dodging her mistress with a frightened meowing and left the Common Room. Patience stared after her cat. “Shall we have a look?” she asked uncertainly.

There was no need to move further to the stairs. Down came the strangest creature Anne and Patience had ever seen. It was a man, perhaps in his early twenties, wearing tights and a jacket with a peasecod belly. His hat was sitting slightly to the right, and a feather was dangling elegantly down to his shoulder. “Fair ladies, your eyes are bright as moonlight. I am honoured to meet you. Your humble servant, Peter Chamberlain.” He bowed with a flourishing gesture. Patience shifted from one foot to the other. Anne caught her breath. “Er… I am Patience Wood,” Patience finally said when the man did not seem to want to stand upright. “And that’s Anne Symmons.”

Only now the young man straightened up again. “I am so delighted.” He tried to kiss Anne’s hand, but she drew back quickly. He glanced at her and smiled. “Had we but world enough, and time, This coyness, Lady, were no crime” he recited. “I’m not coy,” Anne protested. “I only don’t think you a dog keen on licking my hand.” Patience stepped back hurriedly, but Peter Chamberlain never gave her so much as a cursory glance. Anne was his object, so much was clear. “My Lady Love, shall we not venture outside? The sunshine, splendid as it is, can of course never match your beauty, but shall we see if we can turn the sun jealous?” Peter suggested and gallantly offered Anne his arm. “Only when Patience comes with us,” Anne said at once. Peter sighed. “Take your maid, my Lady Love, but we shall forget her in the garden – my love for you grows with every second in your company.”

Patience followed the couple outside. Students stared and pointed at the three of them. Peter pointed out flowers and was constantly whispering poetry into Anne’s ear. “Where did he come from?” Patience thought and racked her brain. Then she remembered. “I’m just off for a second, don’t you worry,” she called and ran back to the castle, ignoring Anne’s helpless pleas of not leaving her with that maniac.

First Patience fetched the poetry book, then she ran to the library, in time remembering to slow her steps so not to enrage Madam Pince. She went straight to the entrance to the Restricted Section. There he was, looking utterly bored. His face lit up seeing Patience. “Hello, my lady,” he said and touched the strings of his lute. Sadly, Madam Pince had taken the melody out of the strings. “Hello Joscelin. I need your help,” Patience said breathlessly and held up the book. “Do you know that?” “Of course – delightful verses,” the minstrel nodded. “Funny ones, if you ask me – vegetable love,” Patience remembered and giggled. Joss laughed. “Yes, that is odd, isn’t it? It’s plain what is meant, but I always puzzle which vegetable was meant.” “We did so, too,” Patience confessed. Joss nodded. “Very understandably. And now you want to come to a solution?” he enquired.

Patience blushed fiercely. “No – no, keep your pants on, really, Joss,” she said hurried, seeing the direction Joss’ hands were taking. “Well,” Joss shrugged, “what then is your problem?” “Anne joked she wanted to have a man talking Shakespeare to her,” Patience said. Joscelin bent down. “Did she cry while saying so?” he wanted to know. “Yes,” Patience replied surprised. “How did you know?” “That book contains a spell by its part-author, Peter Chamberlain. Whenever a girl wants a man talking poetry to her, and she is crying, he will pop up,” Joscelin shrugged. “He’s a complete bore,” he added. “I am sure you are much more charming – really I am, I met Chamberlain,” Patience gloomily stated and sat down on a chair.

“You did?” Joscelin asked, then he looked at her. “It wasn’t you, or the bore would be right behind you,” he concluded. “It was Anne,” Patience said. “How can we get rid of him?” ”Forever? Drown him and the book alike,” Joscelin viciously suggested. “Joss! We don’t want to kill him, just ban him back into the book,” Patience said reproachfully. “I was hoping to get rid of Chamberlain,” Joss admitted, but he grinned. “If you ban him in the book, fine by me. It’s quite simple, you’ve only got to…”

Meanwhile Anne was having a hard time steering Chamberlain in between the thickest crowds of students, while he was constantly trying to lure her into secluded corners of the rose garden. His words made it perfectly plain to Anne that kisses were only the preliminary stage to what Peter intended. “No, Sir, I won’t follow you – you’re a tedious bore, did you know that, and molesting me, too!” she finally burst out. Chamberlain looked stunned for a moment, then he smiled: “This is not true, Lady Anne – hold your tongue and love me!” That was too much for Anne. She slapped him once across the face and stalked away. Chamberlain held his cheek and stared after her. “My lady!” he cried and started after her. “Oh, do that again, and my vegetable love will grow steadier than ever!”

On her way to the castle, Anne nearly knocked over Patience. “I know what to do to get rid of him,” she said triumphantly. Anne turned and saw that Peter had gained on her. “Then do it quickly,” she said and wanted to pass Patience, but she could not. Patience held her elbow. “No, Anne, you must do it – you woke him, after all, with your tear and your wish,” Patience explained. “What do I have to do?” Anne asked, prepared to do everything necessary to get rid of Chamberlain. “Kiss him three times, and then say, I release you,” Patience reported. “No,” Anne flatly refused. “You kiss him, I won’t – before I kissed him a second time, he’ll start undressing.” Patience giggled. “He might be a bit eager, Joss told me that the last time he got out was in the 50s, and the girl never let him get a go either.” “Bit eager?” Anne asked exasperatedly. “Alright, he’s a maniac,” Patience conceded.

By now Peter had come to them. “Lady Love, a kiss for my efforts to reach you,” he panted. Anne considered and then kissed him quickly on the cheek. “And another,” she said, kissing Peter on the forehead, “for your nonsense. And the third for your idiocy, and now: I release you!” Peter looked crushed when he slowly faded into the book that Patience still held. Anne took the book out of her friend’s hands. “I’ll give that back immediately – that’s really bad stuff,” she fumed. Patience nodded. “It is. However, it’s over – maybe the next boyfriend should be from this century?” “Definitely,” Anne agreed.

 

Closed Matters

“Oh you’ll never believe what I thought of next!” Anne exclaimed happily. “This one will get us a free Thursday morning – at least a potion free morning.” Anne informed them. Since Hengist and Patience had no idea how to stop their friend they didn’t reject the new plan. “Every room down in the dungeons will be closed with this spell.” Anne reported. “Where did you find that?” Patience wanted to know. “In a book.” Anne replied. “Well I’d like to know that book – bet it belongs to the restricted section.” Hengist whispered. “What’s the title of the book?” Patience wanted to know. “Something like ‘How to protect your home’.” Anne said.

 “What kind of spell is this?” Patience asked and grabbed the piece of parchment Anne held in her hand. “That is a spell to get something protected by a password.” Patience said in a surprised voice. “Exactly.” Anne replied triumphantly. Hengist took the piece of parchment. “I wonder if that is the same spell that is used in Hogwarts.” Hengist thought aloud. “I bet it is. It is the safest of all spells of this kind – well that’s at least what the brochure said.” “Can’t you undo it if you know the spell?” Hengist wanted to know. “You need the password to undo it.” Anne explained. “What will be your password – that son of a bat?” Patience asked a little unnerved. “Certainly not.” Anne replied in a self-content voice.

Anne after having a second thought decided against a potion free Thursday. “I thought we had no potions today.” Hengist whispered. “I changed dates, tomorrow will be the big day.” Anne informed him. “Great!” Hengist moaned. Patience looked questioningly at him. “After Anne had revealed that we would have no potions today I didn’t do my homework.” Hengist explained. “Uh, sorry, Hengist.” Anne apologized.

Patience was sure that Snape would give Hengist a detention. ‘There must be something I can do.’ Patience thought. Anne nudged her friend. When she looked up she realized that they had to copy some instructions from the blackboard while Snape patrolled between the lines giving comments to the unreadable handwritings of the Gryffindor students. He would have a look at their homework in the practical part of their lesson. That gave her at least a little time to think. “If you brew that than you better warn us that we can all leave.” Snape said in his arrogant voice. He took the piece of parchment and started to read it out. “Ten sprouts of wolvesbane, seven spoonful of canary feathers, eight roots of , a handful of ratclaws…” The Slytherins burst into laughter.

Patience blushed cause she read what was written on the blackboard. ‘Ten spoonful of wolfclaws, seven canary feathers,…’ “Perhaps you should learn how to read, Miss Wood.” Snape commented coldly as he handed her back the piece of parchment. “Should have done the thing today.” Anne whispered so that only Patience and Hengist could hear her. “Nobody asked for your comment, Miss Symmons.” Snape barked at her. Roland gave a short laugh. He shouldn’t have done that. Suddenly Patience knew what she had to do and Roland was the key.

While she searched her bag for a new piece of parchment she put a spell on Roland. He had a hiccup. Every thirty seconds he was shaken. He couldn’t write and best of all he couldn’t talk anymore. “He should drink something.” Vargas said. “Better he stops breathing.” Was another suggestion. “You better go and see Madam Pomfrey.” Snape said but Roland could neither get up nor walk it was a very heavy hiccup. “Perhaps it helps to scare him.” Gewhyn asked. Snape gave her a dark look. “That isn’t very scientific.” Snape snarled. “I’ll get a potion for you.” Snape assured him and went off. Patience produced her bottle with the potion they had to do as homework. “Here Hengist you can have half of it.” “Thanks but he’ll be angry if we don’t have a full bottle each.” He reminded her.

Anne waved her wand. Patience suddenly held two bottles in her hand. “Thanks. I should have thought of that.” “You’re welcome. Nice hiccup.” They turned to look at Roland. Everybody stared at him. He was obviously feeling very uncomfortable. Patience grinned. When Snape returned and filled a goblet with the potion, just as he passed the goblet to Roland the hiccup stopped. Snape looked at Roland. “I think it is gone, professor.” Roland said. “Obviously.” Snape commented. Snape put the potion back into the bottle. “Of course you have copied the instructions by now.” Snape wanted to start his lecture.

It was Roland who interrupted him or rather his hiccup. Snape sighed inwardly. He took the bottle with the potion and the goblet. He approached Roland. He put the goblet on the table. Carefully he opened the bottle. Just as he raised the goblet to pour some of the potion in it the hiccup stopped. Hengist and Anne were delighted cause they knew that Patience was responsible for the hiccup. Snape hadn’t got suspicious so far. Reluctantly he closed the bottle again and put both the bottle and the goblet away. “As I just wanted to say…”

Again the hiccup was back. Snape grabbed the bottle and the potion. He carried it to Roland’s table and put it down – now a little angry. He opened the bottle and took the goblet. And again the hiccup had gone. Furiously Snape turned and approached Patience. “I know that it had been you.” He barked dragging Anne away from her seat. The constant hiccup of Mr. Banks interrupted the silence that followed. Snape looked at Anne. “Your wand.” Snape ordered. Anne produced it out of her pocket and passed it to Snape. He went back to Roland’s table. He put the wand into his pocket. He took the goblet and the bottle. Of course the hiccup stopped.

This time Snape went on pouring some of the potion into the goblet. It smelled awfully and looked even worse. “You’ll drink it as soon as the hiccup comes back.” Snape ordered. Roland stretched his neck and had a look in the goblet. He didn’t seem to be too happy and judging by the face he pulled would rather keep the hiccup than have to drink that. “Back to your place.” Snape barked at Anne. Anne hoped sincerely that Patience would make Roland drink the potion. But Patience knew when to stop and all her attention rested on Snape. “You’ll brew…” Snape didn’t get much further than that.

Roland’s hiccup was back. It seems that just the thought of drinking that dreadful potion had made him so upset that the hiccup returned. Everybody watched him as he slowly took the goblet and with quivering hands directed it to his mouth. He took a sip and put it down again. The hiccup hadn’t gone. “You’ll have to drink all of it to make it go.” Snape told him. Roland took a deep breath. He took the goblet and swallowed the rest of the potion.

“That was a wonderful trick, Patience.” Anne said admiringly. “I don’t know which part I liked better when he had the hiccup or when he had to drink the potion.” Hengist thought aloud. “I loved it when the hiccup occurred without my spell.” Patience laughed. “Sorry that he suspected you.” Patience apologized. “Never mind.”

They had transfiguration next. Now you’ll transfigure a book into a packet of paper handkerchiefs.” McGonagall showed them how to do it. “Oh dear, Snape still has my wand.” Anne whispered. She got up and approached professor McGonagall’s desk. “Sorry but professor Snape has my wand.” Anne informed her. “Why does he have your wand?” McGonagall asked rather stiffly. “Because I gave it to him.” Anne added. The look on McGonagall’s face told her that that didn’t really clear things. “One of our classmates had a hiccup. Professor Snape thought I was responsible for that and I had to give him my wand. The hiccup returned and we both forgot about the wand.” Anne explained.

McGonagall looked at her. “Of course you had nothing to do with the hiccup.” She said. “Nothing.” Anne assured her. “Well, then I suggest you better go and get back your wand.” McGonagall told her. Anne looked miserably. “Well, you might do without your own wand today. Take this instead, it is a school wand. Not very good I’m afraid.” McGonagall passed her a shabby wand. Anne went back to her place and tried the suggested transfiguration – but it didn’t work. After class Anne returned the school wand and they went down to the Great Hall. “When will you fetch your wand?” Patience wanted to know. “Not before tomorrow.” “Then there won’t be a potion free Friday either?” Hengist asked. “Oh sure there will be. Couldn’t come better than this.” Anne said happily. Most probably Anne was the only witch who possessed two wands – two wands, which had chosen her.

The next morning Anne got up especially early. Her other wand lay in one of the secret drawers. She hadn’t used it since McGonagall had taken her to Ollivander’s to buy a new one. She left the common room and sneaked down to the dungeons. She took the spell and performed it. “Hubble bubble toil and trouble, with one wand waver make this place much safer, let the password be ‘flying little bumblebee’.” Anne looked very content. She put her wand back into her pocket.

Silently she climbed up the stairs, which led her back to Gryffindor common room. The wand was put safely back into the secret drawer. “Oh, you’re already dressed.” Patience yawned. “Almost.” Anne replied pretending to put on her shoes. Patience crawled out of her bed and got dressed – with her eyes still closed. “You’re especially tired today, aren’t you Patience?” Anne remarked. “Yeah, this full moon is driving me crazy.” Patience replied. “Any magic creatures in your family that grow lively in times of full moon?” Anne asked jokingly. “Not that I’d know of any.” Patience whispered. “Why don’t you go to Madam Pomfrey and get yourself a sleeping potion?”

“I could brew one myself.” “Nay Patience, you wouldn’t want to drink that?” “Why not?” Patience asked. “You don’t really want an answer to that one. I mean you could go to Snape and ask him for one. Surely he’d be the guarantee for eternal rest – in peace – that is. With your potion you would only have to suffer. Snape doesn’t despise you as much as me – bet he would give you a quick death.” “You’re insane.” Patience commented and closed the door to the bathroom. The other Gryffindor students had gotten up, as well. Anne lay down on her bed and stared at the ceiling while the others were busy to get ready for breakfast.

“You fell asleep again?” Patience asked when she re-entered the dormitory. “Nope, just thinking.” “About what?” “Nothing in particular. Do you think we could get on each other’s nerves? I mean we spent the break together and now…” “You could only get on my nerves if Snape was around all of the time. You two together drive me crazy.” Patience said seriously. “Who’s worse?” Anne wanted to know. “You, my dear.” Patience replied jokingly.

“Oh dear, then you certainly won’t appreciate my new trick.” Anne sighed. “The password spell? That’s right. But that doesn’t stop you, does it?” Patience asked. “Too late.” Anne replied. “What will you do once you have finished school?” Patience asked jokingly. “Good question.” Anne commented. “Well, then it would only be appropriate if you gave me a good answer, too.” Anne shrugged. “What about you?” “If Miss Symmons – the chief plan maker of Hogwarts if not the entire wizarding world – doesn’t know what to do then poor Miss Wood won’t have to know it either.” “I have a plan, let’s have breakfast.” “I have another plan, go and get your wand!” “Later we have History first, I won’t need it there. I’ll get it after that.” “Just to pretend you’re innocent.” Patience scolded her. “Tut, tut, Miss Wood, scolding your poor little friend.”

Breakfast was marvellous. Anne’s occasional grins didn’t disturb the peace of the early morning. History was dull – as always in Anne’s opinion. Patience listened with excitement – as always. Hengist followed with as much attention as was necessary. Anne was only kept awake by the fantasies she had about Snape and how he tried to get into the rooms down in the dungeons. After History Anne hurried delightedly down to the dungeons. Snape stood in front of the door to his office waving his wand angrily. “Just what was intended.” Anne whispered to herself. She cleared her throat to gain Snape’s attention. “STAY THERE!” Snape shouted at her as he approached her with hurried steps. “Don’t go near the doors. It’s dangerous.”

Anne went pale. “Why are you here anyway?” Snape inquired. Anne turned to him. “Ahm, my wand. You still have my wand.” Anne reminded the professor. Snape looked through his pockets and finally found the wand. He returned it to the student. “Now you better leave.” “What’s wrong with the doors?” Anne wanted to know. “Nobody can get in there. It burns like fire.” Snape showed her his burnt hand. “One student had to be brought up to the hospital wing.” Snape reported. “You better go now.” He added. “What happened?” Anne refused to leave. “Somebody put a spell on the doors.” “A password spell?” Anne asked. Snape looked at her. “Yes.” He replied. “But those shouldn’t hurt anyone.” Anne thought aloud. “Miss Symmons, can we discuss the effects of password spells some other time? I’ll have to go on.” Snape tried to usher her out of the dungeons. “How do you alter the spell that it hurts?” Anne inquired. “Miss Symmons, this is an urgent matter. The sooner the spell will be undone the better. The students aren’t safe around here.” Anne was very upset. “Oh dear.” Anne whispered and ran upstairs.

“Hurry Anne, we’re already late for Herbology.” Patience shouted. “Not now!” Anne replied and passed her. She knelt down beside her trunk searching through all the secret drawers. “Damn thing, show up.” Anne whispered while she threw the contains of her secret drawers behind her on the floor. “What’s that mess for?” Patience asked. “Not now.” Anne said. “There you are.” Anne stated holding the wand.

Patience grabbed Anne’s arm. “What’s going on?” Patience wanted to know. “There’s something wrong with the bloody spell. A student had to be brought up to the hospital wing and Snape is injured, as well.” “Oh my god.” Patience hurried after Anne. Out of breath they reached the dungeons. “I told you to leave.” Snape barked. “Anne told me you were injured.” Patience burst out. She looked very pale. Anne stood in the middle of the corridor holding her old wand.

“‘Flying little bumblebee’, let the password be, make this place much safer, with one wand waver, toil and trouble, hubble bubble.” Anne muttered waving her wand. Slowly she stepped towards the door of Snape’s office. Snape grabbed her arm. “What do you think you’re doing?” He asked her. “It was me who put that spell on the doors.” Anne informed the professor. “You couldn’t have done that. I had your wand.” Snape reminded her. “I did it with this damn wand.” Anne shouted showing the wand from Irration-Alley to Snape. He let go off her arm. Patience carefully took Snape’s hand and examined it. “You should go up to Madam Pomfrey.” Patience advised the teacher. Anne stretched out her hand. Slowly she touched the handle. It was still hot nevertheless Anne opened the door. She wasn’t sure if everything was all right. She turned around. She walked towards Patience and Snape. She stopped in front of them. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.” Anne whispered before she went upstairs.

Patience looked at Snape. “I’ll take you up to the hospital wing, professor.” She told him and led him upstairs. “The students told me you were injured, professor. I was just on my way down to you. How nice of you to take him upstairs, my dear.” Madam Pomfrey thanked Patience. “Indeed, it was very nice of you.” Snape bowed his head a little. “You better hurry, you’re already late for your next class.” Snape advised her in his most kind voice.

Patience left without another word. She went straight to the greenhouses where Sprout had started the lesson 15 minutes ago. “Where have you been?” Hengist wanted to know. It was only then that Patience realized that Anne wasn’t around. “Anne’s trick went wrong. One student and Snape are injured.” “Badly injured?” Hengist wanted to know. “No – at least not Snape.” “Where is Anne?” “I don’t know.”

After the lesson both hurried up to the Gryffindor common room. Anne wasn’t around. “All her things have gone!” Patience shouted when she had looked for Anne in the dormitory. “They might have expelled her.” Hengist thought aloud. “It wasn’t her fault. She only wanted to put a harmless password spell on the damn doors. How could she know it would go wrong?” Patience replied. “Patience, even a password spell might be enough to expel her.” Hengist reminded his friend. “Dumbledore, we’ll have to talk to Dumbledore.” Patience hurried off closely followed by Hengist.

On their way to Dumbledore’s office they met Flitwick. “Where are you going?” He asked them in a kind voice. “We’ll have to see Dumbledore right now.” Patience explained. “Well, I was called to see him, as well.” Flitwick said the password ‘orange-flavoured chocolate’ and they got in. Patience and Hengist hurried upstairs. Without knocking Patience pushed the door open.

Anne stood behind her trunk. Dumbledore sat on a chair behind his desk. McGonagall sat on his left-hand side while Snape and Sprout sat on his right-hand side. “You can’t expel her!” Patience shouted out of breath and Hengist nodded vigorously. “That won’t be your decision.” Dumbledore informed them. He was much firmer than usual. Flitwick passed the students. “It wasn’t her fault.” Patience added. “You heard the headmaster.” McGonagall warned them. Anne didn’t turn to her friends. Patience approached her. “Tell them that you didn’t plan that.” Patience begged her grabbing her arm. Anne was unable to speak cause heavy tears rolled down her cheeks. Never before had Patience seen her friend more miserably. Flitwick who had been informed by the teachers in the meantime ushered Patience and Hengist out of the room. “You better leave now.”

“Miss Symmons, we know which spell you used but what about the wand? Professor Snape says he had your wand. And professor McGonagall claims that you told her that yesterday.” Anne swallowed. She looked at the headmaster as she spoke. “I used my other wand.” She couldn’t say much more cause her voice failed. “The wand you bought at Irration-Alley?” Dumbledore asked. Anne nodded. “But don’t you know how dangerous that is?” McGonagall burst out. Anne turned to her. “No.” She mouthed.

“Irration-Alley is like Knockturn-Alley, only bad witches and wizards buy there.” Snape had told her that. “The reason why we wanted you to have another wand was that the wands of … are designed to do bad things. Even a harmless spell will be turned into something dangerous.” McGonagall explained. “I didn’t know that.” Anne whispered almost inaudible. “We didn’t tell you back then.” Dumbledore reminded more his colleagues than the student. A silent pause followed. Anne was still holding the respective wand. Slowly she approached the desk. “You better take care of this.” She said laying the wand down in front of Dumbledore. “Good bye.” She whispered grabbing the handle of her trunk. “Where do you think your going?” Snape asked. “I’m expelled, aren’t I?” Anne said. “No.” Dumbledore informed her. “The professors McGonagall and Snape will think of a detention for you. You will be here tomorrow and I’ll give you an introduction to the dangers of dark magic supply.” Dumbledore said.

“I’m not expelled?” Anne asked in disbelief. “You’re not expelled.” Dumbledore assured her. Anne looked at one teacher after the other starting with Sprout. She wasn’t smiling but she didn’t look angry at her either. Next she looked at Snape. His right hand was bandaged. There was neither fury nor disappointment to be seen. His dark eyes rested on the student. The wall that usually blocked the view inside of her had fallen down. Snape could look right down to her heart. What he saw made him feel sympathy rather pity cause there only was shame and sadness and a deep longing to make things undone.

Just as he realized this the wall was up again. It blocked every try to take a glance at the deepest insights of Anne. Dumbledore looked at her reassuringly. McGonagall gave her a kind of motherly look – those that notorious troublemakers get if they are still loved. Flitwick gave her the thumb up. “You’ll have to expel me! I’m responsible for an injured student (Cedric Diggory) and professor Snape.” Anne argued. “We are glad that you are prepared to take responsibility, however you won’t be expelled, Miss Symmons.” Dumbledore replied. “It wasn’t even the first trick that I played. I was expelled from Hazelnut Forreth for less.” Anne said being highly confused. Suddenly Dumbledore looked rather guilty. He cleared his throat. “Miss Symmons, we won’t discuss with you. You’ll stay. You better get unpacked. I’m sure the professors McGonagall and Snape have a lot of work for you for the next couple of days.”

Apparating - the Second Attempt

“Ah, finally,” Patience sighed when the long longed-for note had appeared right in the middle of the Gryffindor notice board. “What, finally?” Fred Weasley asked her. “Apparition lessons are going to start next week – hurray!” “But, Patience, you’re in seventh year, you should already have passed your test,” Fred said puzzled. “Technically, yes, but I turned seventeen only last month, you see,” Patience shrugged. “No way – dad says only people who are already eleven get into Hogwarts,” George said flabbergasted. Patience frowned. “Can’t be. I was ten and turned eleven,” she answered. The twins first stared at Patience, then exchanged a glance. “Perhaps,” Patience tried to find an explanation, “it was because there were only some days missing until I turned eleven?” “Could be, yeah,” George nodded thoughtfully. “Anyway, does that mean you cannot Apparate yet?” Fred returned to the original subject.

“Correct. I’ll have to take the lessons now,” Patience said and shuddered. “Without Anne and Hengist,” she added gloomily. “Oh come on, I won’t be that bad,” George soothed her. “Right, you could have to do it with Percy, and he’s bound to excel,” Fred said, doing a cruel but accurate imitation of his older brother. Patience laughed. “You’re right, there’s no need to be afraid.”

Nevertheless she was a bit nervous when she entered the Great Hall. This was of course not her first Apparition lesson. She had done the classes already last year, in disguise and unnoticed by anyone but Hengist and Anne. “What are you doing here? Failed that often last year?” a sixth year Slytherin asked her with a sneer. “No. I was too young,” Patience simply said. The Slytherin just laughed. “Yes, of course, I would say that as well – you’re a failure!” Patience shrugged and found a place rather in the back of the Hall.

Professor McGonagall entered, followed by the Ministry wizard who had been the teacher last year. Patience tried to remember his name. Something with a T, she was sure. Twilight? Something like that. She did not need to puzzle for long, because the Ministry wizard cleared his throat and greeted the students. “Good morning! My name is Wilkie Twycross and I shall be your Ministry Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. I hope to be able to prepare you for your Apparition test in this time, by which time many of you may be ready to take your test. As you may know it is usually impossible to Apparate or Disapparate within Hogwarts. The headmaster has lifted this enchantment purely within the Great Hall, for one hour, so as to enable you to practise. May I emphasize that you will not be able to Apparate outside the walls of this Hall, and that you would be unwise to try. I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.”

A Hufflepuff raised her hand. “What will happen when I Apparate outside the Hall by accident?” “You would end up stuck in the wall, a very unpleasant thing to be sure, or you would bounce off the wall as if you had flown into it and break most of your bones,” Twycross recited with no apparent emotion. Patience grinned. “And what happens if I don’t take all my bones with me anyway?” a nervous Ravenclaw boy asked. “Splinching happens very seldom, but if it does, rest assured we can help you in no time,” Twycross said bracingly.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Miss Wood?” somebody asked in a low voice. Patience jumped and turned around to see Snape’s cold eyes linger on her face with something that almost bordered on concern. “Sure. A decent witch needs to know how to Apparate. My dad says it’s a bit unpleasant, but…” she frowned. “Why shouldn’t I?” she asked. Snape raised an eyebrow. “I just thought you would not be keen to learn it. You never tried to sneak into the classes last year as everyone expected.” “Um, well, it wasn’t worth breaking the rules for that, was it?” Patience replied innocently. Snape’s eyes narrowed. “No,” he said thoughtfully, gave Patience a searching glance and went away. Patience was deeply relieved.

Twycross meanwhile cleared his throat again and looked at McGonagall for a sign if he should begin. McGonagall nodded briefly, and Twycross said. “Alright, then…” He waved his wand and wooden hoops appeared on the floor in front of every student. “I want you to Disapparate from where you stand now and to Apparate within the wooden hoop in front of you. The important things to remember when Disapparating and Apparating are the Three D’s!” said Twycross. “Destination, determination, deliberation! Step one: fix your mind firmly upon the desired destination, in this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate upon that destination now.”

Patience had to bite her lips to stop herself from bursting into laughter. Three D’s indeed! Devastation, destruction and damnation. Or whatever you liked. Everyone last year had come up with their own version of the famous three D’s. But Patience knew that, as funny Twycross sounded, he was right. There was a lot of concentration on the destination needed to land where one intended to. And not, as Patience remembered with a malicious little smile, end up miles away in someone else’s hoop. “Step two: Focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!” Twycross ordered. Patience frowned. “He uses the same text every year, I guess,” she muttered to herself. “Miss Wood?” Snape asked swiftly. Apparently he had been in earshot. “Hengist and Anne told me about this rather poetic order,” Patience said truthfully and shrugged. “Anyway, if I had to do that I wouldn’t bother finding new words. I’d stick to the things that worked well first time.” Snape shook his head. “Concentrate unless you want to Splinch.” “No thanks,” Patience said quickly and followed Snape’s advise.

Twycross examined the class warily. He nodded. “Step three – and only when I give the command: turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation! On my command now… one, two, three.” People all around Patience were twirling on the spot, some doing virtual pirouettes that made Patience want to laugh, but she felt Snape’s stare on her back, so she took a deep breath, concentrated on the hoop, turned on the spot – and managed to Apparate flawlessly in her hoop.

“Extremely well done! You’re quite a natural!” Twycross exclaimed, striding over to her. “I have never seen a student managing to Apparate on their first day – and indeed, first try. Kindly do it again for me,” the Ministry wizard asked. Patience did as she was told, and managed again. “Extraordinary, extraordinary. I think you could take the test right away. How extraordinary,” Twycross repeated himself in his excitement. McGonagall and Snape, however, were rather suspicious. “I guess you are as brilliant in other magical things?” Twycross asked Patience who shrugged. “Not brilliant, no…” “Ah, don’t be so modest, you can be proud of yourself, Miss.” Twycross nodded heartily at Patience and took McGonagall’s arm. “A word with you, professor…”

Snape slowly turned to Patience. “I knew it,” he said softly. “That I would be good at Apparition? Well, thank you,” Patience said boldly. Snape gave a short laugh. “Oh no, Miss wood, I knew you had been practising beforehand. I shall inform the headmaster, and you will do nothing. Understood?” “What, I shall just stand here?” Patience asked surprised. “Right on that spot until I am back,” Snape confirmed and swept out of the Hall.

Luckily he returned very fast, accompanied by Dumbledore himself. “I heard you are a natural talent, Miss Wood?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling merrily above his half-moon glasses. “Please demonstrate that to me.” Patience obeyed and Apparated yet again. Twycross hurried over, closely followed by McGonagall. “Isn’t it extraordinary, Dumbledore?” he called. “Oh, well, Wilkie, I dare say this is a good example for what real concentration can do,” Dumbledore said pleasantly, but his eyes remained fixed on Patience. She felt herself growing hot under the scrutiny of the three teachers and swallowed hard.

“I heard she is…” Twycross began, but Dumbledore quickly took his arm and led him away. “She is one of the best students of her year, yes,” Dumbledore said aloud and added lowly, so that only the Ministry wizard could hear: “She is not to know that she is the Moon Child, Wilkie.” “But that might be the reason why she is so good!” Twycross said excitedly. “I should say so, but it’s new moon, and usually Miss Wood’s heights of excellence occur at full moon,” Dumbledore said dryly. “Anyway, she is brilliant in my class, and she can take the test next lesson if she wants to. No reason to keep her here for longer than necessary.” Dumbledore nodded. “Very generous of you, Wilkie. I will consider it and tell you next time.” Dumbledore turned around and called: “Miss Wood!”

Patience took a deep breath and walked towards the headmaster. “Kindly follow me to my office. No, Severus, Minerva, there will be no need for you to come as well.” Snape looked almost disappointed while McGonagall just nodded. Patience was deeply relieved, although… Did she really want to be alone with Dumbledore’s scrutinizing eyes?

She had no choice, of course, and so she sat before long in the chair in front of the headmaster’s desk. Dumbledore folded his long slim fingers and leaned forward. “You were not there for the first time,” he said. Patience was not sure what to say, so she remained silent. “I guess you have done the course with your friends last year, however you managed that,” Dumbledore guessed. He watched Patience closely and smiled. “Really, there is no need to deny it. Nobody, not even the most talented young witch, can Apparate at once. After the third or fourth attempt, yes. But not perfectly the very first time you tried.” He leaned back. “Tell me how you did it.”

“It was entirely my idea, sir,” Patience said at once. Whatever happened to her, she would not allow Hengist and Anne to be drawn into this. “I brewed an Invisibility Infusion, and I took part in the lessons without anyone seeing me. That’s why I already can Apparate.” The tale sounded very likely – in fact, much more likely than the real story of Hengist and Anne preparing the potion. “Did you not realize just how dangerous that was?” Dumbledore asked. Patience blinked. “Dangerous?” “Yes, dangerous. Not only could you have hurt others, you could have done a lot of damage to yourself,” the headmaster nodded.

“I don’t see what could have happened,” Patience said meekly. “You could have lost a leg, your brains, your heart,” Dumbledore listed. “But apparently you never ever got even near Splinching.” “No, sir,” Patience replied almost tonelessly. “Am I expelled?” she asked after a moment’s heavy silence. Dumbledore looked surprised. “Expelled? Merlin’s beard, but of course not. You really do have a talent for Apparition as it seems, and the only punishment I shall give you is…” Dumbledore made a pause for effect, and Patience’s eyes widened in alarm. “Is,” the headmaster went on smugly, “that you have to attend all the lessons no matter how good you are already. Understood?” “Yes, sir,” Patience said and felt as if a eight had fallen off her shoulders. “Very well. I shall tell Wilkie Twycross that I feel it better you are thoroughly educated even thought you are a natural, and nobody else will know about this conversation that just happened.” “Oh, thank you, Professor Dumbledore,” Patience beamed. Dumbledore chuckled. “I shall really miss the Magpies, but then, there are always some aspiring successors.” Patience smiled. “Yes, perhaps.” Dumbledore laughed. “Leave now, and tell Miss Symmons and Mr Alret that they need not worry. They won’t be expelled either.” He nodded and Patience left the office.

She could have danced all the way back to Gryffindor, but unfortunately, Snape caught her on the way. “I’m not expelled, so don’t gloat,” Patience told him at once. “That’s five points from Gryffindor,” Snape replied silkily. “So how did you do it?” “That’s a secret between the headmaster and me, and he ash forbidden me to talk about it,” Patience told the professor. Snape took a deep breath. “Were you in my house…” “… You would have sent me home, I know. But I’m not,” Patience said calmly. Snape nodded. “Just as well. Behave yourself, or I shall find a way to get rid of you anyway.” Patience bit back her answer and just nodded. She walked past Snape with her head held high. Snape looked after her with an expression of mingled disgust and amusement. After all, she had nerve.

 

Getting to Know You

In the last year, Patience had sworn she would talk to every student of their year. Now she had to begin, she thought. The school year was already two weeks old, and she hadn’t talked to all students – far from it. She had a list with names and crossed off Anne, Hengist, Ghewyn, Nelly, Catherine, Brian and Mike. “Oh my god”, she sighed. “What?”, a red-haired Gryffindor of her year asked. “Nothing, Connor, I’m okay. I just have loads to do. Haven’t you?” Connor shrugged. “I don’t think so. Preparing for the next Quidditch match?” “What? I’m never writing the comments beforehand!”, Patience said, a bit insulted. “Oh, well, have fun anyway!”, Connor said lightly and walked off. “And another one. Let’s see… There’s only Jack Smith missing.” She looked around in the Common Room.

There he sat, bent over… his potions homework! Perfect! Patience walked over, her own book in her hands. “Jack, I’ve got a question. I know I read it somewhere in here, but I simply forgot what you get when you add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood.” Jack looked up. “Patience Wood forgets a potion’s recipe? Forget that, if it’s a joke of you and your friends!”, he sneered. “Oh, I resent this insinuation, Jack! I’m really at a loss. Can’t you help me or don’t you want to?” Jack snorted. “The draught of living dead.” And he buried his nose into his books again. Patience thanked him politely and walked over to her table, where Hengist and Anne had arrived. “Why did you talk to Jack? He doesn’t particularly like us!”, Hengist asked curiously. “He doesn’t like us at all”, Patience agreed. “Remember I told you I wanted to talk to everyone of our year? I’ve already managed to talk to all Gryffindors!” “Then let’s cross off Banks, Vargas and Cook as well”, Anne suggested. “Why? I myself haven’t talked to them. Only as a trio we talked to them.” Anne shrugged. “My dear Patience, if you want to talk to them, I won’t hinder you.”

Halloween arrived. The Great Hall was splendidly decorated with enormous pumpkins, live bats and floating candles. There were the usual decorative spiders – not alive, as Patience knew. Still she thought they could spare her the sight in her last year. Hengist was sitting at the Common Room window, his toad placed on the window sill. “Now do me a favour, Mungus-dearie, and jump”, he whispered.

“Hengist!”, Patience exclaimed shocked. Hengist hastily stuffed Mungus into his pocket and turned. “What?”, he asked. “You tried to make Mungus jump down the tower!”, Patience accused her friend. Hengist shrugged. “I did. I want to get rid of that ugly beast before the year ends!” “But why? Mungus isn’t a beauty, but he’s a nice toad, he doesn’t hurt anyone.” “Yeah, ‘cause he never does anything. Have you ever seen him move out of free will? I thought if I talked him into doing one jump he would have the pleasure of having exercise and still the greater pleasure of seeing all his sufferings at an end!”, Hengist explained pathetically. Patience shook her head exasperated. “You give that toad to me”, she demanded. Reluctantly, Hengist handed Mungus over to her. “Poor Mungus, I’ll make you the star of the evening”, Patience cooed and walked with the toad up to her dormitory.

The shriek and the clattering of feet told Hengist Catherine Hayes hadn’t been too happy about seeing the toad near her bed. Anne came into the Common Room, wearing cobwebs around her hat. “Don’t let Patience see that, she’ll suffer a heart stroke”, Hengist grinned. “Where’s she?”, Anne enquired, taking off her hat. Hengist shrugged. “She ran off with Mungus”, he explained. Anne looked at him shrewdly. “Mungus didn’t jump, then?” “You know what I wanted him to do?” “Of course, Hengist. You should have begged Patience to do the Imperius Curse, then asked Mungus to jump. That would have worked, I bet!” The two laughed about Anne’s suggestion.

Patience didn’t turn up until it was time to go down to the Halloween dinner. She was smiling. In one hand she held a tiny bottle with a clear liquid, in the other a basket. Hengist stared at her. “May I ask what you are carrying?” Patience shook her head. “You’ll know soon enough. This”, she shook the bottle slightly, “is my little trick for this party, and this”, she held up the basket, ”is only decoration.”

Together the three friends walked down into the Great Hall. Patience grinned, seeing that the bowl of punch was set on an extra table. Only the teachers and the students up from fifth year were allowed to drink of it. When Patience walked past that table, she suddenly tripped over the rim of her robes and almost fell. Anne watched her pouring the contents of the bottle quickly into the punch before she stabilized herself. Even Anne couldn’t have said if that had been planned or an accident, but knowing her friend well enough, Anne would have bet all her money that had been deliberate.

At the Gryffindor table, Patience made the bottle vanish in the folds of her robe. Hengist grinned. “Pumpkin juice, my dear?”, he asked politely. “Yes, of course, or do you think I’d give up my habit of not trying the punch?”, she grinned. She and Anne never drank punch if they could help it. “Catherine, I have another piece of decoration, and I beg you not to scream, will you?”, Patience said to Catherine Hayes. “Yes, as you’re not screaming because of all these spiders!”, Catherine grinned, holding up a big specimen. Patience shuddered promptly, but opened the basket and took out Mungus.

The Gryffindor table exploded with laughter. Hengist couldn’t believe his eyes. That wasn’t his ugly toad, or was it? Mungus was somehow shining. Whatever Patience had done, it made the brownish green glitter like thousands of diamonds. In addition to this beautification, the toad wore a pointed hat in black. And a sign around his throat said: “Kiss me, I’m an enchanted prince!” Catherine blew a kiss towards Mungus. “You really managed to make this ugly beast likeable”, she stated. Patience thanked her giggling. Hengist was speechless. Gesturing towards his toad, he opened his mouth and shut it again. “Oh my god, Hengist, is it that terrible? I can revise it, you know!”, Patience suggested. “No”, Hengist finally croaked. “Just tell me the spell, I’ll need it I think.”

The students laughed at that again. Patience smiled. “Hengist, you shouldn’t do it too often, but for glamorous occasions you can try it. I’ll tell you upstairs, promised.” The feast started. The tables were laden with wonderful things as usual, and everyone ate much too much.

When the plates had been cleared away, the younger students left the Hall while the older stayed. Some went to the punch, but following the tradition they waited until Dumbledore had tried it. Patience bit her under lip nervously. “What is in this punch?”, Anne whispered. “A potion”, Patience replied lowly. “What? A poisonous one?” Snape was just filling a goblet. “No. I’m not up to killing anyone”, Patience grinned. Hengist got up. “I’ll try it, shall I?” He looked intensely at Patience who simply shrugged. “Feel free to do so”, she said. Hengist frowned.

When he returned with a filled goblet, he stared at it suspiciously. “It won’t cause any pain at all”, Patience assured him. “What effect will it have? Make someone blurt out the secrets of his heart?”, Hengist enquired, shaking the goblet slightly. “No”, Patience said and gestured to him to drink. Hengist did so and waited. “Nothing at all happens! Don’t tell me that our potions’ mistress failed this time?” But Patience pointed up to the teachers’ table. Dumbledore had started to rise gently off his seat. So did McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape. In fact all of those who had had some punch were floating in midair sooner or later. Patience beamed at the floating Hengist. “I never fail in something like that”, she told him.

“What is that?”, Anne asked, giggling at the sight of so many floating people who almost all seemed to enjoy it. “It’s a levitating potion. I used dried Billywigs from Snape’s store. Hope he never gets to know who did that!” Snape was floating helplessly towards the students’ tables. He was furious. Knowing it could only have been a levitating potion, necessarily having Billywigs in it, he wondered if some dried insects were missing from his private store. He collided with McGonagall in the air. “Severus!”, she shrieked. He apologized quickly.

Suddenly his eyes fell to the Gryffindor table and the Malignant Magpies. He tried to get nearer to eavesdrop. “You shouldn’t do that”, McGonagall told him reproachfully. “Why not? Your protégés are my prime suspects”, Snape spat in return. McGonagall looked doubtful. “I would even deem it possible it has been a joke of the headmaster’s”, she mused. Snape gave her a disgusted look, but in secret had to agree it wouldn’t be too strange if Dumbledore had indeed his hand in this humiliating spectacle.

But then a word caught his ears: Patience Wood had just said his name with an arch smile. So he had been right! The potions’ master’s ever suspicious mind came to the conclusion that as soon as he had hit the ground again he would check his private stores. He bumped rather hard into the tapestry but managed to steady himself and have a better look through the Great Hall. Except of Anne and Patience everyone enjoyed flying around. Some even did somersaults in midair. Snape felt the influence of the potion lessen and slid down the tapestry. Anne whispered into Patience’s ear: “Like an enormous fly!” Patience burst into a violent fit of giggles which stopped the instant Snape stood in front of her and watched her coldly. “You will accompany me into the potions class. Both of you!”, the teacher commanded.

The girls looked at each other. “Have we done something, professor?”, Patience enquired innocently. But Snape didn’t let himself be lured into believing her not guilty. They walked downstairs apparently unnoticed by the floating people in the Hall. But Patience caught a glimpse of two red heads through the banister. She mouthed “Help!” and made a gesture as if to strangle herself, pointing to Snape. The red heads, belonging to Fred and George Weasley, gave her the thumbs-up.

“In!”, Snape commanded. In the night, the potions dungeon looked even more frightening. Its only window, gothic shaped, showed a cloudy sky without stars. One candle was flickering on the teacher’s desk. “Sit down!” Patience and Anne obeyed and watched Snape searching his various jars and phials. He held up an almost empty glass jar filled with shrivelled blue twigs. “What are these?”, Snape asked calmly. Anne shrugged. Patience raised her eyebrows. “Shrivelfig twigs?”, she suggested. “Let’s try again, Miss Wood”, Snape sneered unpleasantly. Patience stared at the glass jar. “Dried Billywigs”, she finally exclaimed. “Exactly. These are used in levitating potions, as I assume both of you know very well.” Anne snorted. “As if I knew what ingredient belongs in which potion!” “I quite agree, Miss Symmons. But Miss Wood will know, don’t you?” Patience nodded solemnly. “Of course I know. You taught us last month.” That made Snape lose a bit of his self-confidence. “Exactly”, he said, finding his arrogance soon. He seemed almost to purr, which gave Anne goose pimples. “A masterpiece indeed, Miss Wood, how did you get the potion into the punch?”

But at that moment, when Patience was frantically thinking of an explanation or an excuse, a loud shattering noise was to be heard from Snape’s office. “You stay here!”, the professor ordered hurriedly and rushed into the adjacent dungeon. The class door was wide open. “It’s okay, he’s going to be busy until morning!”, Fred whispered, lurking around the door. Patience and Anne exchanged one look, then sneaked out and up to Gryffindor Tower. “I don’t think it’s over, though”, Patience told Anne when they were in their beds. “Might be. Can he prove it was you?”, Anne asked curiously. “No. How will he? Besides, if Fred and George have caused that much chaos I strongly believe he will first hunt them down.”

But Patience was proven wrong in one of her assumptions. Having spotted Peeves near, Snape put the blame on the poltergeist and returned to the problem of the levitating punch. He had looked for evidence against Patience without success. How to trap her? But as he himself had taught levitating potions, every attentive student could have brewed the potion. Although the only student known to experiment with potions was Patience Wood, that wasn’t exactly a proof for her guilt. That she had tripped right in front of the punch bowl was suspicious though. Snape questioned his colleagues if they had thought the episode strange, but they told him it had been a harmless prank and he should leave it at that. As he had no means to pursue the matter further, Snape contented himself with being especially vindictive to the Gryffindors for the following weeks.

 

Anne’s Detentions

And indeed the two professors didn’t hesitate to give Anne loads of things to do. The first detention was with McGonagall. Retransfiguring the matchboxes filled with things that were – in most cases – closer to matches than needles. “You look rather sad, Miss Symmons. Aren’t you happy that you haven’t been expelled.” McGonagall asked. “Sure I’m happy. It’s just that I can’t understand why.” Anne replied. “Repent and thou wilst be forgiven.” McGonagall quoted. Anne blushed. “If I had been professor Snape I had kicked me out of this school personally.” Anne whispered. McGonagall put her hand on Anne’s shoulder. “There is a lot that you don’t understand, Miss Symmons.” McGonagall replied in a warm voice. “Don’t ask why you are still here, just enjoy it as long as it will last.” McGonagall advised the student.

McGonagall hadn’t lied, though, she hadn’t told Anne the whole truth. The teachers couldn’t help blaming themselves cause they hadn’t warned her of the dangers of her wand and yet let her keep it. Another point was Dumbledore’s personal guilt cause he was responsible for Anne’s being expelled from Hazelnut Forreth. And still there was another reason: They were simply glad that it had been Anne and not a dark witch or wizard. Although one might call Anne by that expression.

After all she was punished and they were all sure that she had learned her lesson. “Professor McGonagall?” Anne asked shyly. “Yes my dear?” “Is professor Snape, is he all right – I mean his injury.” “Don’t worry about him.” McGonagall assured her. “Although he certainly would appreciate a Visit to a sick person. Why don’t you go and ask him yourself?” McGonagall suggested. “Oh no, I could never do that.” Anne replied with unease. McGonagall gave her a look that implied that she was expected to do exactly that. Inwardly Anne sighed.

“Patience, I have a problem.” Anne started sitting down on her friend’s bed. “No, not again.” Patience moaned and hid under the cover. “Not what you think.” Anne told her removing the cover. “McGonagall wants me to make a visit to a sick person.” Anne reported. “Who’s ill?” Patience asked concerned. “She wants me to visit Snape.” Anne explained. “Good luck!” Patience wished her and turned around. “Nay, Patience. I can’t go there – not alone.” Anne revealed. “Then you should ask someone to accompany you.” Patience whispered sleepily. Then she was wide-awake. Fast she turned to face her friend. “Oh no – not me – ask Hengist.” Patience said. Anne looked like a puppy. “Oh well, all right, I’ll come with you.” Patience gave in. “Thank you, you’re an angel.” Anne praised and hugged her.

“I don’t know why I gave in. I must have been crazy. There are thousand ways to spend a Sunday afternoon pleasantly. Come to think of it there are a thousand ways to spend it unpleasantly, as well. And I chose to spoil it by visiting Snape.” Patience complained. “I don’t even know about what I could talk with him.” “We’ll just ask him if he is all right and then we’ll leave. That’s all.” Anne promised. They had decided not to wear their school uniforms. Patience wore an emerald green skirt and a blue bluse, while Anne had put on a light yellow shirt and blue jeans. It was a beautiful sunny day and all the other Gryffindor students were outside having a lot of fun. “Oh, I forgot.” Anne whispered when they left the common room. She waved her wand and suddenly she held a bunch of flowers in her left hand.

“What are those?” Patience wanted to know. “If you make a visit to a sick person you should bring some flowers.” Anne told her. “Do you really think Snape wants flowers after the sunflower crisis?” “Uh, I forgot about those.” Anne again waved her wand. “Toffees?” Patience asked in disbelief. “Not good?” Anne asked carefully. “He’ll think we poisoned them.” Patience reminded her. “We can’t go there without a kind of present.” Anne thought aloud. Patience sighed. “Yes we can.” She said and dragged her friend to Slytherin tower. Fortunately the Slytherins were spending the afternoon outside just like the Gryffindors. In front of the door to Snape’s private rooms they stopped. Anne knocked gently. They didn’t have to wait for too long.

“What are you doing here?” A surprised Snape asked them as he opened the door. “It’s just a visit to a sick person.” Anne explained. “And you brought your friend as moral support.” Snape looked at Patience. She looked at him. “Why don’t you come in?” Snape asked and made way for them. Anne looked at Patience. She gave her a weak smile. Anne was first to enter the room. Patience followed her. “Take a seat.” Snape invited them as he vanished into another room. “We won’t stay long?” Patience scolded her friend. “What should I have done?” Anne defended herself.

They went silent as soon as Snape re-entered the room. He carried a little plate with some cookies. “Tea will be ready in a minute.” He informed them. “Oh you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble because of us.” Patience told him. “I always have tea on a Sunday afternoon.” He informed them. By that time the water was boiling. Snape disappeared again. “Great.” Anne moaned and absent-mindedly she took one of the cookies. Patience watched her. After the first bite Patience couldn’t help asking. “And?” “They are much better than Hagrid’s.” Anne informed her.

When Snape returned with all the needed things for tea he looked in surprise at the cookie-eating Anne. “I thought you wouldn’t touch the cookies cause you were afraid they were poisoned.” Snape commented. Anne choked and started coughing. She hadn’t thought of this possibility. Snape filled one of the cups with milk and passed it to Anne. “You better drink something.” He advised her. Anne took a careful sip. At least it tasted like milk. When Anne had recovered Patience was sure to notice a very self-content grin on Snape’s face. Snape didn’t hesitate to pour some tea into the three cups. He offered his guests sugar, milk and lemon juice. In Patience’s eyes he was agreeable that day.

A couple of minutes passed before Anne recollected why she had been there. “How’s your hand?” She asked between two sips of tea. “All right.” Snape told her. “Who send you? I know that you persuaded Miss Wood to accompany you but who told you to come?” Snape added. Anne swallowed. “Professor McGonagall.” Was her reply. Snape nodded. The whole situation was very embarrassing for Anne. “The last potion’s lesson was very interesting, professor.” Patience threw in. Snape turned to her. “Indeed.” He remarked. “I thought I had seen you talking with Mr. Alret. It seems I was mistaken.” He added in his most arrogant voice.

Since the disaster with the password spell it was impossible to distract Anne from Snape’s potion lectures. Therefore Patience turned – now and then – to Hengist to comment on what was going on or any other thing that passed her mind. “That’s the time!” Anne exclaimed looking at her watch. Only half an hour had passed since they had been with Snape even though it seemed like ages to the two students. “I’m afraid we have to go.” Anne told him sounding not at the least sad about it. Patience and Anne stood up. “Good bye an thanks for the tea.” Patience said and off they went. They didn’t even wait for Snape to open the door for them.

 

Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus

“Blimey, it is stiflingly hot in here!”, Hengist groaned. Although it was already early November, it was like summer. Outside it was very warm, but inside the greenhouses it was unbearably hot. “Write a letter to the Ministry!”, Patience suggested smiling. They had been divided into groups of four to re-pot herbs and describe them afterwards. Anne hated Herbology, but still it wasn’t that bad, for they were at least allowed to talk freely.

After a morning of hard work and Snape before lunch, Herbology was a welcome relaxing lesson. “Don’t get near my basil”, Hengist warned Anne who stayed as far away from the table as possible. She grimaced. “Patience can you hand me the pot?”, John King asked. Patience pushed it over to him without looking. That John King had joined the Malignant Magpies was horrible to her. Anne laughed about him behind his back – although John wasn’t able to recognize even the most open laughter. “Basil – I think not even Anne could kill that plant”, Hengist said thoughtfully. Anne looked sceptically at the pot. “I think I don’t try, thanks”, she told Hengist.

“Did you call me?”, a voice asked next to her and made her jump. She frowned. “Call you?”, she asked and stopped herself shortly before adding ‘a Hufflepuff?’ “Call you?”, Patience repeated Anne’s question. Her face lit up. Fumbling for a bit of parchment in her robe pocket, she asked the Hufflepuff: “Aren’t you Evans?” The Hufflepuff nodded. He was a burly, tall boy with a nose like a boxer’s – flat and broad. “Yeah, I’m Basil Evans”, he told Patience. “Oh, see, we have to describe basil – the herb, I mean, of course”, Patience smiled charmingly. Basil Evans nodded. “I see. I’m doing oregano. Have fun with …. Basil”, he wished them and walked back to his table. Patience crossed  ‘Evans’ off her list. “How many are left?”, Hengist asked curiously. “A lot”, Patience sighed.

“How many, then?”, Anne enquired. “Well, 29, I fear”, Patience said, blushing a little. “You’re not getting on very well, are you?”, Anne grinned. “Ha! Wait till this lesson is over!”, Patience challenged her. “Okay”, Anne accepted. “John, what do you think we should write about basil?”, Patience asked the annoying Hufflepuff and crossed off his name with apparent relish. “Basil Evans? Why should we write about him?”, John asked puzzled. “Not Evans, basil herbs”, Patience impatiently told him. “Oh. Right, the herbs. They’re green and flavoury and are used in cooking.” “Alright, John, thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Patience rolled her eyes.

Just how could this boy be so stupid and still have got on to his Seventh Year? She looked around for things she could ask of Hufflepuff students. There was a black-haired girl with elaborate curls who was working with a small thing Patience didn’t recognize. “Excuse me, Cinna”, she asked, approaching the girl. “What is this?” Cinnamon Wilkes turned to her. “Patience! Well, that’s a herb-digger. Professor Sprout told me it would be better to use that one, for our herbs are so delicate.” “Thanks, I just wondered… Can you shrink it?” “Yes, indeed you can. Just to the size you want it to be.” “Great! Cinna, have fun with it!” Patience returned to her table. Anne shook her head. “I see you’re getting on, really. Cinna… I always wonder how she can do Potions without jumping every time Snape tells someone to add cinnamon!” They all laughed.

On Thursday morning, the 7^th years had Care of Magical Creatures. Of course not every student of their year had taken this subject. But still most of the students were there, and so the usual order was kept: Slytherins and Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were taught together. “Ah, gush, it’s awful!”, Anne mumbled, seeing Banks, Cook and Vargas approaching the enclosure Kettleburn had told them to assemble at. Nothing seemed to be inside the enclosure. “Any problem, Symmons?”, Banks asked loudly. He had a girl nearby and Patience grinned nastily. “Oh, Melanie didn’t you err in looking for an ugly magical creature?”, Patience asked the girl.

Melanie Pallet went pale. She hadn’t had the wits to answer, and when she had come up with an appropriate answer Kettleburn was with them. Banks hissed nevertheless: “You were insulting my girlfriend!” “No, in fact I insulted you!”, Patience retorted promptly, crossing off two names from her list, Hengist shook his head. “That’s a way to talk to everyone, but it isn’t very polite, is it?” “And if you don’t keep your mouths shut now, I’ll feed you to what is in the enclosure!”, Kettleburn thundered. They fell silent at once. Anne put up her hand. “What is in there, professor?” “Had you listened, Miss Symmons, you would know that in there is a Latvian Cave Serpent.”

Kettleburn resumed his lecture: “Latvian Cave Serpents are not very big or very long, but they have the most unusual colour, a bright red. Sometimes they even turn gleaming white. They also have the unusual gift of singing like sirens.” The class stared at the old professor with his missing hand. “A snake can’t sing!”, Rosemary Holmes from Slytherin burst out. Kettleburn chuckled. “Yes, well, Miss Holmes, they can’t sing. Normal snakes can’t, but this Latvian specimen can. Be extremely calm now, then we’ll hear it.” They did. But what this Serpent sang was unintelligible at first. Strange words were to be heard. Hengist shook his head. “Like the Queen of the Night in Mozart’s ‘Magic Flute’”, he sneered. “Pardon me?”, Patience asked him in a hushed voice so not to make Kettleburn angry again. “She’s a soprano and whatever she sings is not to be understood”, Hengist explained. “There is text?”, Anne asked amused.

       But then Patience grabbed her arm. “Listen, these are words as well!”, she said. Kettleburn came over to the three of them. “Yes, Miss Wood, and what are these words?”, he asked. Patience strained her ears and her mind, and finally she got it. “Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus”, she said quietly. “Correct!”, Kettleburn boomed. “And as a homework think about it. It’s a very appropriate saying for Care of Magical Creatures, mind!” He chuckled about his own joke and walked away. “Can you repeat your strange words again, Wood?”, Banks asked in an arrogant voice. Patience took her wand and made the word float into the air from her parchment. “There you are”, she said.

In the evening the Gryffindors sat over their respective homework. “Your saying makes me go mad”, Anne confessed. Patience grinned broadly. “You have to translate it before explaining it”, she revealed. Anne threw a bit of parchment at her. “I already got that far!” “Okay, well, it’s the saying that is written under the Hogwarts coat of arms”, Patience went on. Hengist looked at her in deep frustration. “Yeah, and if you don’t go on it will say ‘Patience Wood died because of not revealing the secret, hidden meaning in these words’”, he warned. Patience giggled. “I myself am not so certain what is the correct meaning, for titillandus can mean two things.”

By now both Anne and Hengist were on the verge of using a truth serum to make Patience speak. Patience, on the other hand, enjoyed the situation thoroughly. But she gave in: “Okay, I’ve translated Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus as Never provoke a sleeping dragon.” “Sounds good to me”, Hengist said relieved and began to write that down. “But, as I said, it could also mean Never tickle a sleeping dragon.” Patience ruffled her hair. “And on this word depends all the meaning. I mean, is it provoking for a dragon to be tickled?” Anne stared at her. “I don’t know”, she said blankly. Hengist shrugged. “I really don’t care.” “But I do!”, Patience told them, slammed some Rune dictionaries shut and got up.

“I’m off to the library.” “It’s nearly eleven, Madam Pince won’t let you in”, Anne warned. “Who says so?”, Patience grinned. “What do you think how I got to know each and every book in the Restricted section I wanted to read?” “That is something I always wanted to know”, Hengist confessed. “Oh really, they should have made me a prefect”, Patience commented. Hengist grinned. “Why?” “Because I know more hidden things than you do, it seems!” They laughed and Anne and Hengist decided to follow Patience into the library.

“Does the fur ball have to be with us?”, Anne asked uncomfortably when she saw Bethesda. “Yes”, Patience simply answered. The castle was almost deserted, as all students were expected to be either already sleeping or in their respective Common Rooms. “There’s not even one teacher patrolling”, Hengist marvelled. “Why should they?”, Patience asked in return. “As far as I know there hasn’t been any attack nor a worse prank than a few dungbombs – so don’t worry, no one’s on alert!” The only living being they met walking through the dark and chilly cloister to the door of the library was Mrs Norris.

“Bethesda, now!”, Patience hissed and her cat jumped forward with a threatening sound and made Mrs Norris flee in obvious horror. “Good, brave Bethesda”, Patience cooed delighted. Even Anne had to admit that on night-time excursions Patience’s cat was a necessary accomplice. The door of the library opened without noise. Hengist shook his head. “I’d think it would screech at night.” “No, it’s always well-oiled so that the teachers are able to get in there even at night without waking Madam Pince who sleeps right next to these rooms.” Secretly, Anne wondered how Patience had got to know all this – and she was very angry her friend had never told her about it. Accordingly, she shot a deeply insulted look over to Patience.

“What? I couldn’t tell you, because I haven’t found out on my own. Wait and see!” Patience turned into the direction of the restricted Section. There was a picture of a medieval lady and a minstrel next to the barrier. “Good evening, Jocelyn”, Patience whispered. The minstrel awoke with a start and bowed gracefully. “Good evening, fair lady”, he answered. “And what may I do for you tonight?” Then he spotted Anne and Hengist and suddenly looked neither beautiful nor happy any more. His face contorted with rage. “Didn’t you promise, witch, never to tell any one?”, he asked sharply and rather loud. His wonderfully melodious voice echoed through the empty library. “Oh, Jocelyn, I didn’t tell, they simply followed me in here”, Patience explained, looking deeply miserable and ashamed.

Jocelyn swayed his head from side to side. “Well, then it cannot be helped any more. What can I do for all of you?” “Where is the best stuff about dragons?”, Hengist asked at once. “In the restricted section, of course”, the minstrel answered, yawning a bit. “Dragons are forbidden. I, for one, think that a pity, because in my lifetime I saved my pretty lady Jocunda here many a time from ferocious dragons and cunning werewolves!” “Yes, Jocelyn, we do know you were one of the greatest heroes of the Middle Ages”, Patience agreed, flattering the minstrel into helping her.

“I never heard of him”, Anne boldly hissed. Jocelyn cried: “Ha!” and Patience stepped on Anne’s foot to stop her. “Can you tell me the password for this section, my very great Jocelyn?”, Patience cooed. Jocelyn, flattening his blonde hair and looking pleased again, seemed to consider the plea. “Ah, gentle lady-witch, for what do you need knowledge about dragons? The young rascal here may go and do it for you!” Hengist blushed violently and said nothing. “But we want to be finished before dawn, you see, Jocelyn, and we need so much information. Oh, please, singer of singers, most acclaimed for minstrel, help a damsel in distress!” Patience was wringing her hands in utter despair – or at least acted as if. Jocelyn positively beamed at her. “Of course, because for a minstrel the service for any lady is the most important thing in life. The password is conjugium.”

Patience thanked the minstrel and the Malignant Magpies crept into the Restricted Section. Anne snorted. “This minstrel is the vainest creature I ever met so far!” Patience smiled lopsidedly. “Yes, and that’s his problem. As soon as I found out I simply had to behave like a damsel in distress to make him help me, I was able to get in here every night I wanted to. And the best is that he’ll keep an eye on who’s coming so that we can hide at once!” They made their way over to “D”, where the books on dragons were kept.

Knowing that they wouldn’t be able to keep all the information in mind they had wisely taken parchment, quills and ink with them. Soon they found the most important facts on dragons – and the solution of the riddle Kettleburn had given them. They had hardly closed the last book when Jocelyn called out: “Aggressors are coming!” Hurriedly Anne blew out the candle they had lit to read, Hengist put the books back and Patience took the parchment and hid it in her pockets.

Then she made a sign to her friends to follow her. In the middle of the Restricted Section was a hidden cupboard, totally empty, in which four or five persons were perfectly able to sit. That was the refuge Patience had always taken when someone was near. Steps came nearer and stopped only in front of the cupboard. “Oh no!”, Anne mouthed. They waited, hardly daring to breathe. The steps moved away again and then someone else was coming near. “Oh, I didn’t know you were up so late”, an oddly familiar voice said. “Dicket!”, Hengist whispered in amazement. “That isn’t so bad, he’s often here and is very quickly away again”, Patience informed them.

“Emerson, what a surprise to see you here. Is any information on Muggles restricted?”, a cold drawling voice answered. This time no one dared to comment. “He stays the whole night”, Patience groaned. “He” was Professor Severus Snape, of course. “No, in fact nothing is concealed except maybe some of the more cruel events in witch hunts, but that’s rather Binns’ topic, not mine. I just wanted to brush up my knowledge on the inquisition, Severus.” “The inquisition? Interesting. I have just found the instructions for inquisitors by Bernard Guy”, Snape told Dicket.

“So you are interested in that as well? Listen, I know you don’t like to fraternize with your colleagues, but, well, won’t you come to my quarters and we can discuss the book? I fear it’s Latin and you are much better in translating than I ever have been.” And then, to the utter surprise of the three students in the cupboard, the two men walked away. The door shut with a soft thud and they were safe again.

“That was pretty close”, Hengist whispered, opening the cupboard door and peering out to see if it was safe to get out. They clambered out of their refuge. “Okay, now it’s just writing the essay”, Anne groaned, looking at her wrist-watch. “It’s past midnight!” The problem was that the next Care of Magical Creatures lesson was on the next day, in the afternoon. Patience yawned and stretched. “To be honest, I’m not fit to write anything”, she confessed. “Me neither”, Hengist agreed. “Hang on, we’ve got one free lesson tomorrow”, Anne said and her face lit up. “And I can sleep longer than you!”, she added. Patience grimaced only and called softly for her cat.

“Where has the flee-farm been?”, Anne asked. “Chasing mice in the library”, Patience grinned. “That’s my part of the deal with Jocelyn. Mice like to eat canvas, and he has been threatened by a vicious gang of library mice. So my cat chases mice and he helps me. It’s so easy!” Giggling they went back to Gryffindor Tower, again through totally deserted corridors. Only once steps were to be heard. Very heavy steps indeed, and a very unmelodious kind of song. “Hagrid?”, Hengist asked lowly. “Yes, he’s been up here for a chat, I think”, Patience whispered, grinning. Hagrid was not quite sober, as it seemed, so he was no danger at all. Still, the Malignant Magpies stayed in a niche until he had passed. They parted at once when they had reached the Common Room again. Patience literally fell into her bed. “Good night, Anne” was all she managed to say before she fell asleep, Bethesda curled up at the foot of her bed.

The next morning, Anne only turned when the others got up. As she had no divination she could stay in bed longer. Patience wasn’t very awake. Not even the cold water had managed to rouse her completely. “You should drink some coffee”, Ghewyn advised her. “No, thanks, I hate coffee”, Patience murmured. Hengist didn’t look much better, which gave occasion for some sneering remarks by Brian and Mike: “Oh, have Miss Alret and Miss Wood had a hard night?”, Brian asked. “Maybe they spent it together, how very romantic!”, Mike joined in. “Shut up, both of you”, Hengist simply said. He wasn’t awake enough to react properly. But as it wasn’t meant as an insult but rather a harmless mockery it wasn’t necessary to be witty in the early morning.

The way to Professor Trelawney’s classroom seemed longer than ever. Hengist and Patience headed for a desk in the shadows, but still in the near vicinage of the window. It was, even though only 9 am, already hot outside. And the ever-glowing fire made the air stifling. The herbs in the fire made even those who had been absolutely awake dizzy and sleepy again. “Good morning my dears”, the misty voice of Sibyl Trelawney greeted them. Hengist wondered what was good in this morning.

“Today we will do dreams”, the teacher went on. While Patience frowned, Catherine’s face lit up. “Oh, professor, shall we analyse our own dreams?”, she asked eagerly. “Yes, quite so. You will work with a partner and describe his or her dream. Then you will have to look in Unconscious Messages: The Innate Truth of Dreaming page 15 and try to analyse it.” “Oh great”, Hengist muttered. “Partners?”, asked Patience briskly. Hengist nodded. “Sure. Did you dream?” “I can’t remember properly. I saw someone bending over my bed, like a vampire or something”, Patience said, straining her mind to get some more details. “A vampire? Pray, what are you reading?”, Hengist asked mockingly.

“A book on a heresy trial in 15^th century Italy, why?” “Forget, it, Patience, I thought you dreamed a passage of your book”, Hengist explained. Patience shook her head. “No. I was at Hogwarts, not in Italy, and Anne was there, too. I heard her scream, but I wasn’t able to open my eyes or say something. It was as if I was bound by a spell, and yet it wasn’t dangerous at all.” “Strange dream”, Hengist commented. “That’s it?” “Yes”, Patience affirmed. “It’s your turn”, she added, sounding much more cheerful by now.

“I dreamed giant slugs were eating all of mother’s salad and she was angry with me because I had made them grow so big for my amusement. She was afraid the muggle neighbours would see the giant slugs, and then a slug’s head poked over the hedge of the neighbour’s garden and I could see a leg of the neighbour’s son’s sticking out of its mouth”, Hengist recounted. Patience giggled. “And then?”, she wanted to know. “Then I woke up and found Brian with a wet flannel bent over me!” They both burst into laughter, which infallibly drew Professor Trelawney’s attention to their table.

“Ah, I see you already wrote down your dreams. Now go on interpreting them. Remember that the art of divination is not a laughing matter and not to be taken too lightly!” Hengist waited until she was put of earshot, then he said: “I think it’s all just a big humbug, because I never saw anything and predict only horrible things and make them all up! And I guess most of what she says is also made up!” Patience agreed. “You saw something, though”, Hengist suddenly remembered. “Yeah, I saw that Dumbledore had a long lifeline, what a surprise!”, Patience whispered.

She opened her book and looked up ‘slugs’. Oh!”, she said, sounding very surprised. “What?”, Hengist asked. “The book says, a slug is a sign for a life in between two states of being. Cool! Maybe you’re going to be a ghost once you’re dead or something.” Seeing Hengist’s face she added quickly: “Not that I want you dead!” “No, of course not. But… It could mean I should tell them I’m… you know what”, he said rather uncomfortably. Patience considered that. “Is the neighbour’s son gay as well?”, she asked. Hengist shrugged. “As far as I know they don’t have a son in reality!” “Oh, you really should have told me that earlier! Then this son means... Wait, here I’ve got it: It’s a projection of yourself. You are being eaten up by your worst fears. Impressing stuff you dreamed tonight!” Patience scribbled down her interpretation, leaving out the part with the gay son of the neighbour’s.

“Yours is much more complicated”, Hengist groaned. “You dreamed of a vampire which is a symbol for latent sexuality. Don’t scowl at me, write a protest to the author.” “I said it looked like a vampire”, Patience defended herself. “And don’t you write that down!” “But it’s the only thing I’ve got so far!”, Hengist protested. Patience sighed. “Okay, fine, ridicule me in front of the whole school!” Hengist went on: “That you were in a dream state means you aren’t aware of what you are yet. Hm. Seems like an important dream to me, as well.” They hadn’t noticed that Trelawney was next to them again. “Ah, well, both of you are interpreting your dreams very well indeed. But you can be assured neither of your interpretations will be read in class.” Trelawney had seen at once that all the things Hengist Alret had found out would make it easy for anyone a bit clever to find out what Dumbledore wanted to be a secret for years to come.

 The next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, Kettleburn wanted to know what the students had worked out. He asked Roland Banks for his interpretation. “I didn’t find any, because all the words Wood said were nonsense”, Banks declared. Most of the class sniggered. “It was Latin, dunderhead”, Anne hissed. “I wouldn’t have phrased it so drastically, Miss Symmons, but basically you are right”, Kettleburn said calmly. “Any solution at all from those of you who have worked out it was Latin and you had to translate it?”

Ghewyn’s hand rose. “I translated it as Never provoke a sleeping dragon”, she began. “Good, Miss Rhys. Does everyone agree?” The professor looked over his glasses. Most students nodded. “Well”, Patience said lowly and raised her hand. “Miss Wood”, Kettleburn friendly said. “Professor, I do not say Ghewyn’s translation is wrong. In fact, it is perfectly right, but… I found another possibility: Never tickle a sleeping dragon.” Kettleburn nodded approvingly. “Very true. Now what did you deduct from that?”

Ghewyn turned and stared at Patience. She was a bit jealous that Patience was the one to be asked for her solution – but Ghewyn consoled herself with the thought that she always had the possibility of disagreeing. “Professor, I thought that tickling might be  provoking to a dragon. Research confirmed that, and so it is really of no importance which translation one chooses. You asked us to think about what that means for Care of Magical Creatures. I think it means that every creature needs to be treated with respect”, Patience explained her thoughts.

Kettleburn clapped his hands slowly. “Very good. Take ten points for Gryffindor, Miss Wood. Miss Rhys, anything to add?” Ghewyn blushed a little and said: “No. I agree with Patience. Every creature has to be treated as we want to be treated”, Ghewyn slowly said. “If anyone does indeed disagree with this most basic rule of Care of Magical Creatures, I advise him or her to hold his tongue and think hard of leaving this class”, Kettleburn droned. Roland Banks bit his lips but said nothing. Kettleburn proceeded with his lesson.

When he had ended, the Malignant Magpies walked to the castle together. “You know, this research on the motto of Hogwarts has made me curious about its history. I want to know more”, Patience thoughtfully said. “I agree. Hogwarts must be over a thousand years old”, Anne mused. Hengist sighed. “There is no proper book on its history available, is there?”, he asked carefully. Patience snorted. “Loads of books”, she giggled. “Why don’t you read them, then?”, Hengist wanted to know. Anne and Patience exchanged a look. “Do you think what I think?”, Anne enquired. “I think so”, Patience grinned.

“Yes. We should write a new History of Hogwarts. One with interviews of the ghosts and loads of rubbish in it. See if it sells”, Anne laughed. Hengist stared at his friends. “This means loads to do and remember we have the N.E.W.T.s coming up!” “Don’t you want to help us, then?”, Patience asked. “Of course I’ll help you. Let’s ask the house ghosts first”, he suggested. “Patience, who would be your favourite?” Patience, knowing Anne’s favourite was Nearly Headless Nick, chose the Fat Friar, the Hufflepuff ghost. Anne nodded. “I want to interview Nearly Headless Nick, if that’s alright with you, Hengist”, she announced. “Sure. I’ll ask the Grey Lady. Hang on, who does the Bloody Baron?”, the boy asked. The three looked at each other uncertainly. None of them wanted to interview the Slytherin ghost. “We… we could do it together”, Anne suggested finally. “Okay”, Patience agreed relieved she wasn’t to face that one without assistance. They had not yet time to set their plan to work.

       First there was one lesson of History of Magic and one of Defence Against the Dark Arts to be endured. Binns was today even more annoying than usual. He told them of medieval epic works where witches were always daughters of the devil. Then he came to a French myth: “Melusine was a mixed creature, half human half serpent. She was able to disguise her serpent parts by charming them. But once a month they would appear. She is said to be the ancestor of the noble French family of Valois”, Binns reported. No one listened to him, not even Patience.

Though usually keen on getting to know every shred of history she was distracted by thinking of what she should ask the Fat Friar. Together with Anne and Hengist she developed a questionnaire. They agreed on asking the ghosts first when they had died and why, then when they had come to Hogwarts and what were the most remarkable events in their stay. Holly Dicket managed to draw their attention to the Banishing Charm on doxies. “You should never mistake these for a fairy”, Holly warned her class. By now it was obvious she was with child. “I will leave these in this cage, but you can nevertheless ban them. I don’t want you to be bitten.” The teacher called the students up to the cage one after the other. The doxies were furiously banging against the glass of the cage. They looked like minuscule humans covered in black fur with an extra pair of arms and legs.

“Why are they so dangerous?”, Hengist enquired. As Anne and Patience knew he was sometimes careless enough to let himself be bitten, they each held a bit of his robe. “Leave me”, he hissed amused. “Promise me not to caress the doxy”, Anne demanded. Hengist promised that while Holly told the class the bite of a doxy was poisonous and an antidote was necessary if an emergency happened. “And I bet the son of a bat has the antidote ready”, Anne said after class. “Shall we begin this evening?” “Sure. I will look for the Friar after dinner”, Patience said. They brought their books and bags up to Gryffindor.

 

Making History

At dinner, the ghosts came floating in as well. “Nick, can I have a word with you tonight?”, Anne politely asked. “Of course. Do you have a problem?”, the ghost enquired friendly. “No. I’m fine. I’m just curious”, Anne laughed. Patience rose and walked over to the Hufflepuff table – which meant she had to be near the Slytherin table. Therefore she had her wand gripped in her right sleeve. Who knew if she had to fight some jinxes? “Sir”, she addressed the Fat Friar who looked up with his usual merry smile. “Oh, a worthy Gryffindor. What brings you here?” “I wanted to ask you if you could spare me some minutes tonight”, Patience told him. “Of course, of course. I’ll come up to Gryffindor so we can talk, is that okay?” “Oh, that is so very nice of you. Thank you!”, Patience beamed.

Hengist had meanwhile arranged to talk to the Grey Lady as well. So the Malignant Magpies parted after dinner. Nick and Anne chose to take a walk through the corridors. Hengist had invited the Grey Lady into one of the by now empty classrooms and Patience met the Fat Friar in Gryffindor Tower where they sat on a window sill and talked. It turned out that the Hufflepuff ghost had died in the 14^th century in the course of riots and since then, chased by exorcists, had taken refuge at Hogwarts Castle.

Hengist wondered where to put the Lady. She was young and beautiful – but why Grey Lady? “Madam”, he addressed her politely. “Madam, where did you get your name from?” She laughed a silvery laugh and smoothed her long wavy hair. “I am a born Lady Grey. I hope you have already heard of our noble family? We were connected to the Tudors, you know.” Hengist shook his head. He could only connect the name of Tudor to the end of the Middle Ages and a few sovereigns. “Can you tell me about your family, and how… how you died?”, he begged. The Grey Lady sighed. “How I died? Yes. I can tell you how I died. But first you really should know how I lived. Oh. Do you want to write down what I say?”

The ghost stared at the parchment and ink Hengist had produced. “Yes, milady, if you don’t mind.” She agreed with one majestic wave of her hand and began her story: “I was born as Mary Grey, the youngest of three sisters. My mother Frances was a Brandon of Suffolk, the daughter of Mary Tudor, sister of Henry VIII and widow of Louis XII of France. You see, I am of the highest nobility. My eldest sister Jane was married to Guildford Dudley. Ah, what a tragedy! When good king Hal died, his Catholic eldest daughter Mary wanted to get the power, but the protestant lords elected my sister Jane instead their queen. The problem was that Mary was already crowned. Jane and Guildford were king and queen for about 90 days and then were executed. Beheaded.” She sighed again and glided over to the window to stare out into he sunset.

“My father Henry Grey, the earl of Suffolk, was executed as well. Our family endured persecution under the Catholic reign. Thank heaven, it ended in 1558 and our beloved cousin Elizabeth got to the throne. My sister Catherine with her husband Edward Seymour Earl of Hereford and her two sons hid in the Lowlands, and me and my husband Thomas Keys ducked in London. I died in 1576, and it wasn’t what you might call a peaceful death. In constant fear of being murdered or put out of power, Elizabeth watched our family with suspicion. Already we had been too near power. Hengist Alret, once you’ve tasted power you don’t want to miss it. First it looked like a natural death to me. I mean, my sister Catherine died giving birth to a baby daughter who died as well. That was something so usual in our world it didn’t rouse suspicion. But when I, who had never been with child, felt sick and weak, I knew Catherine had been poisoned and her baby with her. I was poisoned as well. Nothing I could do against it, because I didn’t know what poison it was. It worked slowly. My husband grieved for a short time, and I died in 1576. I knew that I wanted to be near Thomas longer. He got mad over seeing me so often. Elizabeth was harder. She just crossed herself and turned around. No use in frightening her. And when the puritans took over one hundred years later it was no good to be a ghost in London or in our old manors. I fled to Hogwarts, the only place these days where ghosts were safe. And I stayed here, with the children. I like it here better than anywhere else in the world!”

Hengist had scribbled as fast as he could. He scratched his head. What the Grey Lady (or rather Lady Mary Grey) had told him was fascinating but not really useful for their project. “Milady, can you tell me anything about what you deem the most interesting events at Hogwarts?”, he enquired. The Grey Lady laughed again and began to tell him minutely of festivities and how fashions had changed and what the girls had worn in the centuries before. “Thank you”, Hengist finally cut across the story of a Halloween feast of 1814. “I hope I was of help to you”, the ghost smiled and floated away. Hengist put his head on his arms. “No”, he muttered. “But I certainly am glad not to live in the 17^th century. Wear high collars, honestly!”

Anne was little more successful. Nearly Headless Nick had died in 1492, beheaded, as they all knew. “I still curse the executioner whenever I’m rejected again by the Headless Hunt”, he confided in Anne. “You shouldn’t worry about such ignorant ghosts. You’re worth more than any of them”, Anne consoled him. Nick smiled. “Thank you, my dear. But I think you wanted to know something about Hogwarts.” Anne nodded.

“Well, then… Hogwarts was founded about 1000 years ago. In times that far back you can never get dates correctly. But we know the names of the founders: Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor. Guess who named the houses! The Sorting Hat owns their combined knowledge of people to be able to sort the students. Slytherin wasn’t a nice guy, if you ask me. He was a Parselmouth and he was ambitious. You know what an unpleasant lot these Slytherins can be”, Nick chortled.

Anne agreed heartily. “But actually I have been at Hogwarts only these 500 years. So, if you want to know about these more recent times, I can help you”, the ghost friendly offered. “That would be wonderful. What did you like best?”, Anne asked, gripping her quill harder. “The Triwizard Tournaments”, Nick answered without hesitating.

“What are these?”, Anne wanted to know. “They were the most celebrated events of the year”, Nick responded. “Three schools of wizardry sent a champion to compete against each other. Traditionally, the three schools meeting here were Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Do not ask me where the last two are situated. As well as Hogwarts they are concealed. The three champions had to solve three tasks. Difficult they were, and dangerous! Many of them died.”

“And that’s why Triwizard Tournaments are forbidden today?” “Yes, Anne. And I love the feasts at the beginning and end of every school year”, Nick added to his report. Anne frowned. “Did nothing extraordinary happen?” “Of course. About 40 years ago the Chamber of Secrets has been opened and students died. Then we had changes of headmasters and changes of teachers. We have seen thousands of students through the time, and not all were good wizards in the end. Neither academically nor behaving good.” Nick sighed. “Did you know that You-Know-Who was a student of this school?”

Anne stared at him in disbelief. “He was here?”, she asked almost inaudible. “Yes, in Slytherin. All of the present teachers have been students here as well, by the way”, Nick changed the point of view. He felt uncomfortable talking about the Dark Lord. “Where was Dumbledore?”, Anne enquired eagerly. “He was a Gryffindor. McGonagall, too, and a damn good Quidditch player she was. Chaser. Oh. I forgot it’s your friend I should tell that and not you. Snape was in Slytherin. Sprout was a Hufflepuff. Flitwick a Ravenclaw. Professor Trelawney was, as far as I remember, a Hufflepuff.” Anne giggled. “That is nice”, she grinned. “It fits, doesn’t it?”, Nick agreed.

“Preston was a Hufflepuff”, Anne remembered. “Right. See, it’s not only Slytherins that go bad! Sinistra was a Ravenclaw. Holly Dicket was a Slytherin, Emerson a Gryffindor. Madam Hooch was a Ravenclaw.” Nick shook his head. “It is really fascinating to see students come back as teachers. The changes that took place outwardly are not always mirrored by the inside. Take, for example, Dumbledore. He still loves sweets as much as he did when he was a rather fat boy in his first few years before he grew tall and lean. And he still loves a joke as much as any of you pranksters can do. Snape, the poor man, on the other hand changed very little in both respects. He has been a greasy unpleasant boy and he is a greasy unpleasant man.”

“He has always been like he is today?”, Anne wanted to know, revolted by the image of a greasy-haired boy of 15 lurking around the corridors of Hogwarts. “Much the same, yes. But it seems to me he isn’t all mean and vicious. Time will prove that”, Nick shrugged it off. “What do you think will become of us?”, Anne asked thoughtfully. “Difficult. You three Malignant Magpies will be famous forever in Filch’s records – unless the Messrs. Weasley top it all, what I very much fear.” The ghost twinkled merrily. He enjoyed every prank.

“But to come to your question: I see Mr Alret as a ministry wizard, maybe in Arthur Weasley’s department. Who would be better informed about muggle artefacts than a muggle-born wizard? Miss Wood might become something related to Quidditch. But actually I think she will end up doing the same as her father Rupert does. Historian will be wonderful for her. You, Anne, will be a poet. I know you are a prankster today, but you are also much of a dreamer. Whatever you write will have a sting of irony in it, covered with so much honey it doesn’t hurt. It will be deeply funny and people will enjoy it very much. That’s where I see you. But I’m not good in fortune-telling”, he warned his young friend.

“Thank you Nick, you were most kind”, Anne said, getting up and stretching. “We will interview the Bloody Baron tomorrow, I think. Any clues to how we have to behave?” Nick shuddered. “Well, I’m not a friend of His Bloodiness, but I can cope with him. Just be polite and seem afraid, that’ll help.”

To seem afraid wasn’t the problem. Actually, the three friends felt very awkward facing the famous Slytherin ghost. And as it was a Saturday they had no excuse in lessons. In the morning they assembled in the Common Room. “What shall we do?”, Anne asked, twisting one strand of her long dark hair nervously. “Go to look for the last remaining house ghost”, Hengist decided. But he didn’t sound very convinced by his own suggestion. Patience gnawed her lip. “Some time sooner or later it must be done”, Hengist said lowly. “Yes”, Patience sighed and rose. “And better sooner than later. I for one would rather have it done than have it lurking in the back of my mind!” Anne agreed quickly and Hengist had no choice but to follow. But then…

“Stop!”, called a voice from the top of the staircase leading down from the boys’ dormitories. The Malignant Magpies turned. “Verres! What is it?”, Patience enquired of her younger brother. “We have the pitch for ourselves today, and we necessarily need our seeker!”, Oliver announced. Anne’s mouth fell open. Hengist, though quickly changing his expression, looked for a moment positively delighted. “Sorry, girls”, he said, making his way towards the stairs to get his Quidditch robes.

“Oh no!”, Anne called out. Oliver frowned. “What?”, he asked peevishly. “You won’t get away so easily, Hengist Alret. You will accompany me and Patience!”, Anne commanded. “But, Anne, Oliver’s right, they need their Seeker for the training”, Patience pointed out. Anne turned to face her friend. “Patience Wood, I know that you are a Quidditch fanatic, but this you must see: We want to do it, and I’m not willing to give Hengist a second off this meeting we all dread!”

Oliver was curious by now. “The meeting you all dread? Another Snape-detention?” “No. We do not always have detentions”, Patience informed him indignantly. Oliver only grinned. “Then why don’t you watch the training and face whoever you want to meet after that?”, he suggested. Anne pulled a face. Watching Quidditch and meeting the Bloody Baron – that was definitely not her idea of a perfect Saturday. Nevertheless, she knew that against the combined force of the Woods and Hengist she had no chance. Moreover she was, as far as she knew, the only person in the whole school who didn’t like Quidditch. Even Snape loved it.

So she trod after the two boys in their dark red Gryffindor robes and Patience wearing her scarf at least to the pitch. The team was already assembled. “Hey, seeker, did you sleep too long?”, chaser Mike Flatley called over. Hengist shook his head, mounted his broom and zoomed off. “To your positions!”, Oliver commanded. Anne and Patience climbed a stand and watched the seven players fly around the pitch. “This is stupid!”, Anne muttered. “They’re not even playing against another team!” “But they’re practising beating Slytherin”, Patience grinned. “See how Mike moves over there? He’s going to block the Slytherin chaser. I’ve watched them fly, and Oliver has made up diagrams of their moves.”

“You turned spy?”, Anne asked amused. Patience laughed. “No. I was there to think of some comments even McGonagall couldn’t tell me off for.” “Snape would”, Anne predicted. “Of course he would, but isn’t that the usual state of affairs?” Oliver was yelling at his team, but in fact it was a pretty good training. “If they fly like that in the next match, we’re sure to win. At least this one match”, Patience sighed. Anne nodded slowly. “Well, you know how I feel about Quidditch – but I can’t stand the Slytherins smirk at us!”

”Girls! Hey, girls!”, Hengist called over to them. “What?”, Patience yelled back. “I’ll take a shower and we meet in the Entrance Hall, okay?” Patience waved her consent and she and Anne climbed down the stand again. “Maybe the Bloody Baron isn’t here”, Anne said hopefully. “And where shall a ghost go?”, Patience asked amused. “To Hogsmeade, have a drink in the Three broomsticks?” Giggling about the picture of ghosts filling the pub and trying to drink but pouring all the good beer onto the floor the two girls went back into the castle. They had to wait for some minutes until Hengist came and joined them. “I’m ready to face even the monster of Slytherin”, he boasted. “You wait till we’re actually facing the ghost of Slytherin”, Anne muttered.

Together they set off towards Slytherin tower. “You know, the first years don’t even know where the entrances to the other towers lie”, Anne told her friends. “They get more and more stupid every year”, Patience stated gloomily. “Lucky we have Fred and George. And that there are some other Weasleys to come. Imagine a Hogwarts full of the likes of Roland Banks!” “I don’t think that very likely”, Hengist grinned.

“What are you three Gryffindors doing here?”, the unpleasant voice of Ramon Vargas spoke up behind them. “We want to have a little chat with his bloodiness”, Patience informed her archenemy coldly. “Wood, you don’t have the guts to do it. But I long to see you curl down to the floor with fright. I’ll call the baron for you!” Vargas vanished. Patience let out her breath in a sharp hiss. “I swear if he ever gets at me at the wrong time I’ll fight him”, she said lowly. Hengist sighed. He knew that was only too likely.

Anne paced around nervously. “I just wonder what that ghost will be like”, she thought aloud. “Worse than Peeves he can’t be, and I’ll not ask that damn poltergeist!”, Patience tried to be cheerful. Anne gave her a very weak smile. Then voices were heard again. Vargas had not only brought the ghost but also his cronies Banks and Cook. “He can never do anything  without them, can he? I wonder how he manages to get into his pyjamas at night!”, Hengist whispered to his friends who consequently had a hard time bringing their faces under control again.

“I heard from my dear friends that you wanted to talk to me?”, the Bloody Baron said arrogantly. Patience nodded. “Yes. We wanted to ask you about your personal history”, she explained. The baron waved to the Slytherins to disappear. “Very flattering. You are Gryffindors, nevertheless, and be aware that these muggle-loving Gryffindors never were my favourites!” Hengist raised his eyebrows. “Then, Baron, please notice my parents are muggles”, he stiffly said.

Cook turned on the heels to stare at the Gryffindor prefect. He whispered something to his friends that sounded to Anne and Patience like “mudblood”. “Did he say what I think he said?”, Anne asked in a dangerous voice. Patience grabbed her arm tightly. “Let’s deal with that scum later”, she answered. The ghost looked down on them and chuckled unpleasantly. “The scum tells my precious friends to be scum. Amusing, highly amusing. Ask your questions, mudblood and muggle-loving purebloods. You are purebloods, aren’t you? He will not be allowed to ask more than one question!” The baron clearly was relishing in Slytherins theory of muggles and wizards.

Patience shuddered. How could anyone live with someone as ignorant and caught in old blood-related theories? Obviously people could, because the Slytherin trio seemed to enjoy the company of the ghost. They had vanished by now and so the Gryffindors were alone. Anne doubted it had been a good idea to ask all the ghosts.

“Baron, how did you die?”, Patience asked bluntly, abandoning all the courtesy the other ghosts had received in their interviews. In her eyes, someone like the baron wasn’t worth courtesy. In fact, even her fear of him had vanished in the all-consuming fury she felt. A glance at Anne’s clenched fists showed her that Anne felt the same. Hengist was pale but had parchment and ink ready. He ignored the worst insult any wizard could say as good as he could. Maybe that was due to…

“Hengist, do you know what they call you?”, Patience whispered eagerly. Hengist shook his head and told her to go on with the questioning. The Bloody Baron, in his blood-stained waistcoat and baroque trousers, strutted through the chamber as much as any ghost could strut. “I died in the 18^th century”, he began his tale. Anne watched him with a look of open loathing so that he stopped. “What? Am I scum as well as the boys?”, he asked ironically.

As much as Anne would have wished to say yes, she ignored him completely and stared literally through him. “Well, then… Funny you’re not afraid of me, muggle-lovers. I knew the Dark Lord particularly well as a student and what a good boy he was! Just the perfect Slytherin!” “We will come to that later”, Patience cut into his speech. “Your death. The short version.”

The Bloody Baron bent down and Patience felt the cold emerging from him. “You are an impertinent creature, missy. But you have a heart, I must acknowledge.” A knock on the door made them all turn. Snape entered, a look of deep concern on his face. “What are you doing in Slytherin Tower?”, he asked but his voice lacked the usual snide. “We are informing ourselves about the history of the ghosts of Hogwarts”, Anne answered. Snape nodded briskly. “Do you mind if I stay?” He took a chair and sat down.

Somehow, even Anne felt relieved not to be alone with the ghost any more. “My death they enquired about, the little… tykes”, the baron murmured. “As I said, I died about 200 years ago and I was shot in a duel with a muggle-lover, a mudblood!” Snape cleared his throat and the ghost seemed to retreat a little. “Anyway, I died in that duel. It was here at Hogwarts.” “Here at Hogwarts?”, Hengist blurted out. “Ah, the one question I granted you. Very well. Yes.” The baron seemed satisfied to have got rid of the obligation of having to answer the son of muggles.

“Why here?”, Patience supplied the next question. Hengist smiled at her. “I was first as a student here, then as a teacher.” Snape coughed and the baron looked at him. “You are right, I never was a proper teacher. I only filled in for the Dark Arts teacher.” “You mean Defence Against the Dark Arts?”, Anne wanted to know. “No”, Snape said softly. “No. Until the rise of You-Know-Who the Dark Arts were taught quite openly. Not at Hogwarts, though. Here the tradition ended after the unfortunate duel of the baron.” The ghost looked positively furious, but Snape was unimpressed.

He went on: “The baron wasn’t shot with a… what do muggles call it? Firearm? He was killed in a duel when he used some very nasty dark curses and got some in return.” “Now that these children know my tale, maybe they should ask you what else they want to know!”, the baron snapped enraged. “Oh no. Nobody can tell your story as nice as you do. Just let me supply the facts”, the potions master muttered. Anne felt a wave of sympathy for him.

Patience decided it would be best to get this over with quickly. “Any events you deem important in your stay at this school?”, she asked. “You sound like a German clerk in the nazi-regime”, the baron accused her. Patience went brick red. That was about the worst insult she could think of. Snape intervened at once. “Baron, you do not know anything about the world outside this castle, and Miss Wood is clearly not bothering to be polite – but as you know many people aren’t. Most shriek and run away!”, he thundered.

“Thank you, professor. I think we will learn nothing from this ignorant dead person”, Patience stiffly said. She walked out of the room, head high. “Follow her”, Snape advised Hengist and Anne. Snape stayed behind. “I know your ways, baron. I know them very well. And if it weren’t for the fact that you manage to keep Peeves to the line better than any other I would have you thrown out of here at once”, Snape told his house ghost. “You yourself have been a follower of my belief, so don’t ride too high, Severus Snape!”

In the corridor, Patience was still furious. “This ghost is absolutely mean and it was superfluous to ask him anything at all. Hengist, I’m so sorry. What he called you (I dare not even repeat it!) is the worst thing anyone can ever call you. It means you are muggle-born and therefore not worth as much as wizard-borns with magic abilities.” Hengist swallowed. “He cannot be earnest about that!”, he said in a strangely subdued voice.

“He can”, Anne sighed. “That is part of what Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor quarrelled about. Gryffindor wanted to give everyone a chance, and Slytherin wanted only real wizards in Hogwarts. I mean, what he called pure-bloods.” Hengist shook his head. “I thought rubbish like that died out centuries ago.” “Believe me, rubbish like that will never die out”, Patience stated sadly.

 

Sunday it rained conveniently. Therefore it wasn’t suspicious at all that the Malignant Magpies stayed inside and occupied a table in the Common Room to start their book. “How shall we call it?”, Hengist wanted to know. Patience shrugged and gnawed at her quill. “Don’t, your lips are all green”, Anne advised her friend. “Green lips. Why not”, Patience only replied and continued her occupation. Anne sighed. She took out her wand and pointed it at Patience’s lips: “Biffido!” Patience grinned. “Thanks!”

“I have an idea. Why not call it Hogwarts – A History?”, Hengist said, hitting the table with his hand so that the ink bottles were in danger of trenching everything in green, black and purple seas. “Cool, boy!”, Patience laughed. “It isn’t bad, but as there is already a book like that, we shouldn’t do it!” Anne grinned. “Then why not call it Hogwarts – Our History?” “Oh, perfect, just perfect! Hope many people read it and rely on it”, Hengist laughed. “If anybody relies on that book…”, Patience giggled. After all, it was to be more of a parody than a real history book.

“We could also ask the elves for information”, Patience suggested. “Yeah, that makes it authentical!”, Anne agreed. “And we should have some foreword”, Hengist added. “A foreword? Hm. What could we write? Anne, any idea?”, Patience asked. “Why don’t you ask me?”, Hengist complained mockingly. “Because Anne is, according to Nick, the poet among us”, Patience explained. Anne looked amused but scribbled something on a piece of parchment. Patience laughed reading it. “Read it aloud, I’m too lazy to read myself”, Hengist begged.

Patience cleared her throat and began: “In wild Scottish hills, in beautiful air,/ A castle so venerable and so old/ Is situated on a deep, dark lake there/ And has a story to be told.” “That’s really great Anne. Wait, I’ve got the next lines!” Hengist grinned while writing eagerly. Patience tried to see what he wrote but he told her to wait these five seconds. Then he read it out: “A thousand years it overlooked the land/ A thousand years kept in disguise/ For four famous wizards here formed their band/ Of teaching students to become wise.” The girls applauded this. “Maybe you’re to be a poet and not a Ministry wizard”, Anne smiled. Hengist bowed.

“Patience, now it’s your turn!”, he said. Patience looked abashed. “Yes. I fear you are right. But I warn you: I’m not going to keep up your solemn tone!” “She’ll spoil all our magical atmosphere!”, Anne groaned with fake horror. Patience simply giggled. She wrote her four lines and then prepared for reading them out: “The Scottish roses are in full bloom,/ The wild landscape is green…” Anne cut across: “Now you are not spoiling it at all. Sounds like Robert Burns to me!” “Anne! I wasn’t finished yet. Please let me read my work”, Patience complained. She began again: “The Scottish roses are in full bloom,/ The wild landscape is green./ Sometimes you hear the swish of a broom/ And another young student is to be seen.” Hengist burst into laughter. Anne shook her head. “At least you haven’t mentioned Quidditch explicitly, though everyone who knows the rules at Hogwarts will know that brooms are used only in flying lessons and Quidditch!”

Patience shrugged. “I told you it wouldn’t be as solemn as yours!” “There are only two lines missing to make a good sonnet”, Anne grinned. “The purport of this work should be made clear”, Hengist said thoughtfully. Patience raised her eyebrows. “The purport? Is there going to be some deeper moral?” “No”, Anne said, holding out two hastily scribbled lines. “Listen: This book tells a tale, not one of Lords,/ But the story of our worthy Hogwarts.” “Exactly!”, Patience and Hengist said in one voice.

 

Useful Relations

Patience and Bethesda were enjoying a game of ‘catch-the-transfigured-wool-mouse’ in the snow all by themselves during the lunch-break. “Patience, um, do you have time tonight?” Patience turned to the speaker and smiled. There stood Ravenclaw Quidditch captain David Bantam, looking thoroughly embarrassed, while his usual entourage of fans stood a few steps behind, glaring at Patience. “I think so, yes,” Patience answered calmly. David seemed relieved. “I wanted to practise the Wronski Feint, you see, and I need your help – somebody told me you were really good at Flying.” He smiled. Patience laughed. “I can try, of course, but I won’t promise anything!” David grinned back at her. “That’s okay. Let’s say, five o’clock at the Quidditch pitch?” “Right, I’ll be there,” Patience agreed.

Anne joined her friend when David had just turned to leave. “What did he want?” she asked suspiciously. Patience smiled and made the wool-mouse jump away so that Bethesda jumped after it. “He asked me to help him with a difficult flying move,” she said truthfully. Anne frowned. “You do know that Hengist likes David a lot, don’t you?” “Sure I do – but why can’t I just show David this move?” Patience retorted, slightly vexed. Anne shrugged. “I can’t see any impediment,” she said seriously. Then she grinned: “When is your date?”

“Five o’clock, this afternoon,” Patience answered, while a snow-covered Bethesda jumped on her knees and splattered her with tiny snowflakes. “Urgh, Bethesda, don’t you ever do that again,” Patience complained laughing. Anne blinked. “Five o’clock?” she repeated. Patience nodded. “Is there a problem?” she wanted to know. “Yes,” Anne said heavily, “yes, there is. We’ve got detention. With Professor Dicket.” Patience swallowed and nodded. “I forgot,” she whispered.

The bell rang, and the girls went inside again. All through History of Magic, Patience wondered how to be in two places at once. It was a disaster! She really wanted to go flying. Sometimes it just wasn’t enough to do it in the lessons, and only commenting Quidditch could not really make up for the exquisite feeling of being in the air. Hengist asked no questions but took up his quill and made notes himself – which neither he nor Anne had done for years, as Patience was usually avidly interested in Professor Binns’ lectures.

In Charms, Professor Flitwick made them repeat Cheering Charms, as he feared they might come up in the N.E.W.T.s. Patience aimed badly and hit her cousin Tonks instead of Hengist. Tonks burst into laughter and turned around to see who had hit her. “Sorry,” Patience mumbled and dropped her wand. Tonks giggled. “What’s wrong?” she asked. Hengist frowned and swiftly reduced the effects of the charm. “I’ve got detention with Professor Dicket tonight…” “We’ve got detention,” Hengist corrected her. “But I’ve also been asked for help in a flying move,” Patience went on. Tonks immediately knew who must have asked Patience and grinned. “I see. And you don’t know how to be in two places at the same time?” she asked, scrutinizing Patience with furrowed brows. “Exactly,” Patience glumly replied. Tonks laughed and clapped her hands. “Nothing easier as that, my dear cousin. I can be you.” Hengist coughed. “Actually, nobody could look less like Patience than you, Tonks,” he said. It was true. Patience, with her red hair and grey eyes and freckles, could have had no worse substitute than black-haired, brown-eyed, suntanned Tonks. “I’m a Metamorphmagus, don’t you forget,” Tonks told Hengist. “Let’s see after the lesson – Flitwick is coming round!” The three hurried back to practising.

After the lesson, Tonks dragged Patience into a shadowy corner on the corridor. She wrinkled her nose a little, and all of a sudden it was as if Patience looked into a mirror. She gasped. “That’s fantastic!” she said. Tonks bowed mockingly. “I knew you’d like it. Off with you!” Tonks advised and Patience turned on her heel to dash upstairs to Gryffindor Tower and fetch her broom.

 Meanwhile Tonks joined Anne and Hengist on their way to Dicket’s office. “Watcha,” Tonks greeted them. Anne stopped dead. “Tonks?” she asked. Tonks nodded. “You look exactly like Patience,” Hengist admired the transformation. “Sure I do – or else Professor Dicket would get suspicious, wouldn’t he?” Tonks grinned. Then she asked: “What did you do to deserve detention?” Hengist shrugged wordlessly and Anne seemed very reluctant to answer. “I mean, usually Dicket doesn’t set detentions for nothing – hey, he’s not Snape!” “True,” Anne agreed. “We did something stupid,” Hengist said and smiled apologetically. “We set some Filibuster’s in class – and then we blamed it, rather unsuccessfully, on John King,” Anne elaborated. “Oh,” said Tonks. “Why that?” “Why what?” Hengist asked. Tonks grinned. “Blame it on King.” “Oh. That. Well, we thought it a good idea at that time – it was rather infantile, as Dicket gave us to understand,” Anne replied. “I guess he wouldn’t have minded the fireworks, it was blaming it on blundering King that made him furious,” Hengist said knowingly. “I see,” Tonks nodded.

Professor Emerson Dicket had already waited for them. In his crammed office he had made space for two additional chairs. The teakettle was steaming as usual. “Alright, you three – I hope you had a little time to think about your stupid idea to blame King,” Dicket greeted them. “Sit down, we’re going to have an extra lesson on Muggle life.” Silently, the three students sat down, and the lesson began.

 David and Patience were zooming around the pitch on a wild chase of – nothing. The balls were still locked in their wooden crate, as the Ravenclaw Quidditch training would start only after dinner. “Now, look!” Patience called and rolled over in mid-air, then dived deep, deep down to the ground of the pitch and stopped just inches from the snow-covered soil. When David had just reached her, she pulled up in a spectacular speed. David, in his turn, crashed into the ground. He stumbled to his feet, completely covered in snow, when Patience landed next to him, laughing. “It’s a Seeker move, didn’t you know?” she asked. “You’re a Chaser, David!” David pushed snow out of his face and grinned cheerfully. “I know. I just thought, if I told Ashraf to do the Wronski Feint, I should know how it works – besides,” he added, “I like being out here with you.” Patience blushed a little. “Why, thanks.” “Can you show me again?” David asked her. Patience nodded and mounted her broom again. This time she did things more slowly, letting David follow her and imitate her moves.

When it was six o’clock, they finished their training and walked back to the castle, chatting about the latest Quidditch news. “David – I’ve got to tell you something,” Patience suddenly said. David looked at her questioningly. “I should have been in detention this last hour, but… Tonks filled in for me,” Patience confessed. David’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s nice to know. Thanks for coming,” he said. Considering for a moment, he then leaned forward and kissed Patience lightly on the cheek. “We might repeat this, eh?” he asked cheerfully, waved at Patience and went inside. Patience stood rooted for a second, then followed into the Hall.

Unfortunately, the first person she met was Emerson Dicket himself. “Hullo, where do you come from, looking that frozen? It wasn’t that cold in my office,” he stated. “I was just outside,” Patience replied. Dicket grinned. “With your broom?” Then he frowned. “Just a moment – I saw you go into the Great Hall, with Hengist and Anne just a minute ago!” “Oh no, not me,” Patience assured him. “I… I wanted to get my head clear and went to the pitch…” “Miss Wood, it takes five minutes to walk to the pitch and five back, and you must have been flying for some minutes, too. Let’s say fifteen. But these 25 minutes ago, you were still in my office!” Dicket folded his arms in front of his chest and stared down at Patience who blushed fiercely.

“No,” she whispered. “No what?” Dicket demanded. “No, I wasn’t in detention – I…” Patience drew in her breath. “I was outside, with David Bantam,” she finished and hung her head. Dicket smiled into his beard, but Patience could not see this as she stared at the tiled floor. “How did you do that?” he wanted to know. “My cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, is a Metamorphmagus,” Patience explained. “I know that – but I didn’t know she’s your cousin. I should have guessed, however, when she told me quite correctly that Muggles use elevators to get to higher floors.” Patience looked up and was amazed to see the broad grin. ”I would have used leviators,” she said tentatively. Dicket nodded. “Exactly. So you had a date? Ah, Patience, don’t look so scared. I know myself what this means to some of us.” Dicket looked over his shoulder, apparently to see if any colleague was listening. “Between us two, I understand perfectly well. So, you’re excused. Don’t do it again, though,” the professor quickly added. Patience couldn’t believe her ears. “You… you’re not furious?” she asked. Dicket shook his head. “No, I’m not. Off with you, before I change my mind.” Patience didn’t need to be told twice.

When Patience entered the Great Hall, she half-expected to see her second self sitting at the Gryffindor table, but Tonks was with her Ravenclaw friends and only waved over, giving Patience the thumbs-up. “Thanks,” Patience called over and grinned. David winked at her and she smiled back at him. Then she dropped down next to Anne. “I ran into Dicket,” she revealed. Anne and Hengist both dropped their forks. “What?” they asked in one voice. “You could make money with that performance,” Patience remarked. Anne glared at her. “And nothing, Dicket knew it wasn’t me but isn’t going to do anything about it,” Patience said and grinned. “He’s great.”

  

It’s the season to be jolly…

“Do you really think we can do that?” Hengist whispered. “There’s no rule against it – I told you I had checked that. The only thing I’m worried about is our talent for cooking.” “Baking.” Patience corrected her. “Right, baking, even worse.” Anne whispered. “Aren’t we there yet? These things get heavy.” Hengist complained. He carried a basket with countless baking ingredients. Anne took the basket. “It must be somewhere around here.” Patience tried to open every door on this particular corridor. A couple of days ago they had found a kitchen on this corridor. When they had been talking about baking for Christmas. They had asked professor McGonagall about it and if they were allowed bake biscuits there. Their house-teacher had told them that if there was such a room they could use it.

“Ha, there it is!” They entered a little kitchen that provided them with all the needed tools. They unpacked. Patience had brought a cook book with various recipes. “What will we do first?” She asked most enthusiastically. “Well, we had agreed to bring a recipe each, so why don’t we look for the easiest and do that.” Hengist suggested. “I agree.” Anne said and raised her hand. Patience put her hands to her hips. “Really, do you wanna bake or no?” She complained.

“It’s not that we don’t wanna bake…” Hengist intervened. “…it’s just that we don’t wanna burn down the castle.” Anne explained. Patience shook her head. “You cannot be that disastrous.” “I’m sure I can!” Hengist said. “And I’m sure you can – those potions you brew…” This time Anne shook her head. “What will we do first?” Hengist asked. “I’ve got a fairly simple recipe, it involves only a few ingredients: honey, sugar beet syrup, flour, baking powder, skin of a lemon, spices for gingerbread, soda, water and a lot of marzipan.” Anne read from her list. “Marzipan?” Patience beamed. “We’ll definitely do that one first!” She decided. “We’ll need a bowl first.” Hengist observed. “Ohoh, seems like our little-I’m-good-for-nothing-what-cooking-is-concerned turns out to be the expert.” Patience teased him. “Little-I’m-good-for-nothing-what-baking-is-concerned not cooking.” Anne corrected her.

“I’ll read out the recipe and you’ll just do what I tell you.” Anne suggested. “Forget it!” Patience said and took the recipe from her. “Hengist, 300g of flour, Anne unpack the baking powder, soda, lemon skin and the spices. I’ll mix it together.” Patience decided. Hengist put the flour into the bowl. Anne added the ingredients while Patience mixed them together. “Hengist, you get the honey, Anne the syrup please.” It was easy to add the honey, however the syrup was not so sure if it should really mix with those other rather dubious ingredients. Anne had to put up a little fight to get it into the bowl. When she had done so, Hengist was already waiting with the water.

“I’m afraid you’ll need some more water.” Somebody observed behind them. “Professor Dumbledore, you gave us a scare!” Anne shouted. “Sorry, my dear, do you think I could…OUCH” “Keep your hands to yourself.” Patience scolded the headmaster who had tried to get his share of the dough. Hengist grinned. “Sorry, Miss Wood, is there any chance to join this alternative Christmas preparing group?” He wanted to know. “Why alternative?” Hengist asked. “Well, it seems that all the other students are quite happy to get what the house-elves provide for them and spend the rest of their time buying presents for family, friends and of course their enemies.” He observed wisely.

“What about baking for enemies.” Anne suggested. Patience gave her a scolding look. She only shrugged. “Well, professor, I think if you get yourself a recipe – there seem to be enough ingredients even for Mother Christmas – you can join in.” Patience told him. Dumbledore thought for a moment. “Do you think there is a recipe involving lemon drops?” Patience frowned. “Actually, I don’t think so…” “I don’t hope so.” Hengist whispered unheard. “Well, I’ll find one.” Dumbledore decided. “See you in a minute. And don’t start tasting without me.”

Anne laughed. “Who would have thought that!” “Professor McGonagall must have given him a hint, might be that she thought we should be under control…” Patience mused. “More water please.” She added. In the meantime Anne prepared a long marzipan sausage. Hengist rolled out the dough. “No, you have to spread a little water over the dough so that it will stick to the marzipan.” Anne said before Patience put the marzipan on top of the dough. “Now, who’s the expert.” Hengist observed. “They say it in the recipe.” Anne showed it to him. “Well, at least you can read.” Patience teased her.

Carefully Patience rolled the marzipan sausage on top of the dough covering it with a layer of dough. Hengist cut the dough-marzipan sausage into little pieces and put it on a baking tray. Anne put them into the oven and made sure none of them would burn. When the first row was done Dumbledore returned.

“I found a wonderful recipe. And I found us some help. He’s just off to fetch a recipe.” He declared entering the kitchen. “He?” Anne asked worried. “Professor Flitwick.” He told her. Everybody was relieved. “So what kind of recipe did you bring?” Hengist wanted to know. “Don’t you think we should taste these wonderful biscuits first?” He stretched out his hand but Anne rescued them. “No!” She ordered putting them especially far away. Dumbledore read out his recipe. “First we need gingerbread dough: we’ll need flour, baking powder, ginger, cloves, butter, dark cane sugar, sugar beet syrup and an egg.” While he read the three students gathered the ingredients. “Alright, who’ll mix them now?” Patience asked. Anne pushed Hengist forward. “Hey…” He complained. “First we’ll need the flour…” Dumbledore put the flour into the bowl and read on. “…the spices…” Patience added them. “…and the butter…” Anne added the butter cut into little pieces. Hengist mixed it together. “Now the syrup, the sugar and the egg.” Again Anne added the syrup – this time she used a little magic to convince it to join the jolly party in the bowl. Dumbledore got the sugar and Patience took care of the egg. “Now the dough has to cool down a bit.” Dumbledore read. “We should put it into the fridge.” Patience suggested knowingly. “Honestly, what would we do without you!” Hengist observed – even he would have known that the best place to cool down a dough would have been the fridge. “Next, we’ll have to destroy some of these delicious lemon drops.” Dumbledore explained already having one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Are there any left?” Anne asked checking the little bag. “Should be enough.” She said. “You’ll have to crush them – but please don’t be so cruel.” Dumbledore asked them. Patience and Hengist unpacked the drops and filled them into a plastic bag. Anne got a kind of hammer. “Everybody step back please.” She warned them. And so she started to crush the drops. In the meantime Dumbledore rolled out the dough. He had put his long beard around his neck so that it wouldn’t interfere with the dough…

“Am I too late?” The voice of tiny professor Flitwick asked form the door frame. “No, you’re just in time.” Anne replied happily. She liked their charms’ teacher. “We’re just trying professor Dumbledore’s recipe.” Hengist explained. Patience put baking paper on one of the trays while Dumbledore was busy to cut out little stars, trees and all sorts of animals. “And a cat for Minerva.” He said finally. He had cut out the middle of the biscuits so that there was only a frame left. Carefully they placed the biscuits on the tray. Professor Flitwick was especially good at it – doing everything with magic…

“Now the crushed lemon drops are filled into the holes and we put everything into the oven and hope for the best.” Anne nudged her friends. “Bet he got the recipe from the restricted section.” This time Hengist took care of the watch and got the biscuits out of the oven before they burned. “Don’t you think we should at least try one…” Dumbledore asked. “You already ate four lemon drops.” Anne replied reproachfully. He shrugged.

The headmaster decided to leave his beard where it was – if not life than at least baking was much easier without a long beard hanging down ones chin. “What’s your recipe, Miss Wood?” Professor Flitwick asked curiously. He wasn’t sure if his own recipe would be good enough for this special group. “They are called cinnamon balls.” She revealed. “What do we need?” Dumbledore asked enthusiastically. “The white of three eggs, icing sugar, vanilla sugar, cinnamon and hazelnuts. She told them. This time professor Flitwick was in charge of the bowl. He climbed on one of the chairs. It was a really hard job because he had to beat the egg, but since he did everything with magic it wasn’t too bad for him. Dumbledore added the sugar while Flitwick went on beating. Patience took away a little bit of the mixture which she wanted to use for the decoration. Anne and Hengist added cinnamon and the hazelnuts. Now everybody except Patience was busy forming little balls. Patience decorated them and put them into the oven.

She took a deep breath. “Doesn’t that smell heavenly?” A voice asked outside. “Let’s see who’s in there…” The door was opened and the professors Dicket and Snape peeped inside. “Severus, I think we’re just missing one of the most important events in our lives.” Dicket observed. “I really don’t…” ‘…think so.’ Was what Snape had intended to reply – but too late Dicket had already entered the kitchen and inquired about the doings there. “Severus, why don’t you come in?” He asked turning shortly around.

“I don’t think I can waste my time in a kitchen.” Snape replied when Dumbledore had asked him to get a recipe and join them. Everybody knew that he was a spoilsport any way. “But you will stay, Emerson, won’t you?” Flitwick asked. “Of course, so I only have to get a recipe and then I can join in?” He wanted to know. “It’s as easy as that!” Hengist assured him. “I’ll be back soon then – and please, save some of these delicious things from the oven for me!”

He dragged Snape away and tried to convince him all the way down to the Dungeons to join them. “You’re much better at recipes than I am, Severus. Sure we’ll find something Christmassy in one of your books if we only give it a try.” Emerson suggested. “I really don’t think so!” He replied coldly. “Then we’ll get you a muggle recipe, what do you say. C’mon, that was a nice little group. Forget your grudge for an afternoon and have fun with us.” “I really have more important things to do than that!” That was his final word and so Dicket went away without him to fetch his recipe.

“What’s your recipe all about?” Dumbledore asked Hengist who had tried to hide. “My mother sent it to me.” He confessed. “Well, let’s hear it then.” Anne said curiously. “We’ll need flour, baking powder, salt, gingerbread spices, butter, brown sugar, an egg, cream, white and normal chocolate – sounds quite complicated so far.” He added. The others had already prepared the ingredients. Anne stood behind the bowl and ordered the others to add the needed things. “I think this recipe is brilliant because it can do without that horribly sticky syrup.” She smiled at Hengist who blushed a little. She mixed the flour, baking powder, salt and spices. Patience added the butter, Dumbledore the sugar, Hengist the egg and Flitwick the cream. Last the chocolate was added. Again they had to form little balls and put them on a baking try. “Well, wasn’t too bad.” Patience observed.

“Severus, I just found you a perfect recipe. Muggles love this!” Emerson tried to convince the potions’ master. “I already told you I have…” “C’mon Severus, why not have fun instead of brewing potions and looking through your storage?” “You might not believe it, but I enjoy my work.” Snape replied unnerved. “Yeah, that’s why you’re applying for the Defence Against the Dark Arts job every term.” Emerson said. Snape gave him an especially angry look and Emerson knew that he had ruined everything. “Well, I’m sure you can still join us. I leave the recipe with you.” He said and left.

“I think it’s your turn now, professor Flitwick.” Hengist observed. “Yes.” He cleared his throat and climbed on one of the chairs. He took his wand and ordered. “Chocolate, white of egg,/ almonds and sugar./ Bowl is filled with egg/ beating in sugar./ Now add the chocolate,/ put the almonds in/ careful not too late,/ on a tray of tin./ Ope’ the oven door,/ need a lot of heat,/ what ovens are for,/ to enjoy and eat.” Again he cleared his throat. “That was a magical recipe from my grandma.” He explained. “That was brilliant!” Professor Dicket stated. He had entered shortly before Flitwick had started.

“I think I shall remember that recipe.” Hengist whispered to Patience. “C’mon, you didn’t do so badly.” She assured him.

 

A Confession

One morning Patience woke up with a start. She jumped out of bed and threw open the window. “Are you mad?”, yawned Catherine sleepily. “No. I just thought I heard something… Coming!”, Patience yelled down. “Shut the window and your mouth!”, Ghewyn ordered. Patience grinned only, began to get dressed hurriedly and ran downstairs to the Common Room and on to the lawn. Hengist was there with his broom and Patience’s Nimbus. “Wonderful! A Sunday morning, all alone in the Quidditch pitch”, Patience beamed.

She and Hengist walked arm in arm to the pitch, chatting pleasantly. But, alas, the pitch was already occupied. There was David Bantam, much to Hengist’s pleasure, and the Ravenclaw seeker Ashraf Bagoony. In addition to them there were Gwendolyn Myers and Victoria Hall, the Bantam-fan-club of Ravenclaw. And somehow news had spread that David Bantam was practising in the pitch: Jessa Appleby, Helen Miller and Lisa Snipes of Slytherin as well as the Hufflepuffs Susan Jennings and Stella Day were there. Hengist grinned. “And now watch these girls”, he muttered. “You would watch Bantam as well. Better watch me!”, Patience adviced him laughingly.

“Hi Ashraf!”, she greeted. “Hi. Want to practise as well?” “No, just a bit of flying. Hello David.” Patience smiled at the boy who smiled back. “Hengist, do you want to play with us?”, he offered. Hengist looked at Patience who patted his shoulder good-naturedly. “Take your chance”, she whispered in his ear. Then she climbed the stand where the fan-club was sitting. “Hallo all of you. Since when are you so big Quidditch fans?” After all it was early Sunday morning and Patience had been wanting to play Quidditch unnoticed by some silly giggling girls. So she wasn’t in the right mood to be nice. But, as she remembered quickly, she could cross of quite a lot of names today.

She watched the three boys flying around. “Hengist! Over your head!”, she yelled. Helen Miller watched her with raised eyebrows. “What is over his head?” “A bludger, of course. Oh, right, you’re not watching the game but the men”, Patience returned snappishly. When the talk around her changed to the various bottoms of the boys on brooms it unnerved Patience completely. She went downstairs again as quickly as possible, mounted her broom and took off. “Mind if I join you?”, she called to David Bantam. “No. Want to be chaser?” “Alright!”

     That was Quidditch! Only four players instead of fourteen, but still the quaffel, one bludger and the snitch to manage. It was fun and the four of them enjoyed it thoroughly. The girls in the stand looked offended. “Maybe they want to join us now as well”, Ashraf gloomily predicted. “Could be. I’m sorry”, Patience apologized. “Don’t. You’re a damn good flyer, you know.” That was a big compliment by Ashraf, as Patience knew. He rarely acknowledged someone else’s abilities on a broomstick.

After the training session, Hengist and Patience walked back to Gryffindor. “You know what?”, Patience suddenly said. Hengist grinned at her, his freckles darker than usual. “What do I know?” “Do you know that I love you?”, his best friend asked, leaned over, kissed him on the cheek and ran off. Hengist stared after her, dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious”, he muttered to the spot where a second before Patience had been. He looked in vain for her at the breakfast table. She wasn’t in the common room, either. Anne was there, though. “Anne, Patience told me she loved me”, Hengist burst out. Anne nodded gravely. “I know”, she sighed. “She isn’t serious, is she? She is just joking”, Hengist asked, clinging to straws desperately. “I fear no.” “Anne, I can’t do that to her, I mean, I’m not…” “I know, she knows, but still she loves you. You can’t control that so easily, Hengist. But don’t worry, she’ll make it”, Anne soothed Hengist who looked absolutely horrified.

The next time he encountered Patience he averted his eyes. “Hi Hengist”, she greeted him cheerfully. She had thrown some Rune dictionaries onto a table in the common room and set to work on a complicated translation. She scanned him. “Did I shock you?”, she asked, her eyes wide with fear. “Yes”, Hengist openly said. “Can we talk?” “Sure we can. I can finish this translation later. Shall we go out?”, Patience offered. Anne watched her friends and shook her head. “Mental, both of them”, she mumbled. Fred Weasley caught that. “Patience?”, he enquired. “Yeah, course”, Anne crisply answered. Fred chuckled. “She can be a pain in the ass, can’t she?” “I wouldn’t have phrased it that way but you hit the nail indeed.” “What is it this time?”, George wanted to know. Anne considered confiding in the twins for a second, then chose to stay silent. “It’s a personal matter”, she told the boys. Oliver snorted behind her. “What?”, Anne snapped. “Well, the personal matter might not be that my sister is in love?” “Oliver Wood, keep your nose out of your sister’s business!” Anne’s reaction of shutting her book and jumping up to leave the common room was as good as a red-painted ‘yes’ on the wall.

Meanwhile Patience and Hengist were walking around the castle. “You were joking when you told me you loved me, weren’t you?”, Hengist finally plunged into the matter after some minutes of silence. Something stirred behind a bush, but both of them assumed it was Mrs Norris. “Actually no. But don’t be shocked or something. I mean, I won’t have you changed”, Patience tried to explain. Hengist sighed deeply. “I never wanted to make you fall in love with me!”, he said, hanging his head. “Right you are. You never did anything. It’s just… You’re the best of friends and you’re cute and loyal and honest and witty”, Patience said helplessly. Hengist stared at her. “Me, cute?”, he asked in disbelief.

He looked so positively scared at the thought that Patience giggled. “You never saw yourself as you are. No one does. But you, with your curls and these twinkling eyes and the freckles… you are cute, believe me, and I’m not the only one to remark it. Besides, I know you are never going to love me!” Patience sounded brave, but her eyes betrayed this wasn’t as easy as she tried to make it. “Er… well, you and Anne are my very best friends as you know. I trust both of you endlessly, but still you are no romantic objects for me.” Hengist ruffled his curls so that his hair stood on end. Patience smiled sadly. “Yeah. I know. I couldn’t help it, Hengist. Please, don’t let it be an obstacle to our friendship!”, she pleaded. Hengist embraced her tightly. “Nothing will ever come between us, gal!”, he grinned.

The Worm Who Came

“Have to dash. No time,” Patience called over her shoulder and escaped John King by rushing around a corner – and promptly colliding with Ramon Vargas. “Oops, sorry,” she panted and blushed. “Don’t go so fast – Gryffindors are likely to fall over their overly large feet,” Vargas sneered. Patience raised an eyebrow. “You really need your eyes checked, Vargas,” she laughed. Vargas looked down and cursed inwardly. Patience’s feet were tiny. For once, Vargas was on his own. So was Patience. Vargas eyed the girl up and down. “Have you done the runes homework?” he asked. Patience nodded. “It was difficult, wasn’t it?” she replied. “Was it? I haven’t had a look so far,” Vargas admitted. Patience swallowed. “Er… Vargas… you’ve got exactly five minutes to do so,” she pointed out.

Vargas looked over his shoulder. “Look, can I copy?” he asked so fast that Patience had trouble understanding him. “What?” she asked perplexed. “Can I copy?” Vargas repeated, looking as if he had rather bitten off his tongue. Patience frowned. “You copy from me?” she asked doubtingly. “Please,” Vargas added with a look as if he had eaten a lemon. “Alright,” Patience agreed and fetched her parchment. Tonks sauntered over to them. “Wanting to do another bet, Vargas?” she asked. Vargas shook his head and sat down on the floor to copy the translation. Tonks stared at her cousin. “You let him copy?” she asked.

Patience shrugged. “I guess it cannot do any harm. Mind you, Vargas, you are not to volunteer that translation or I’ll wipe it away from behind you,” she said over her shoulder. Vargas nodded and scribbled down the spell they had had to translate. “Only fair,” he admitted and re-packed his bag. “Thanks,” he said and gave Patience a smile – the first genuine smile Patience had ever seen on his face. “You’re welcome,” she replied. Tonks took Patience’s translation and swallowed. “Are you sure he was welcome to that?”

Patience stifled a cry. Her own nice translation was blotted out in parts, and even the original runes were smeared. Vargas was already in the classroom when Patience and Tonks entered. Patience was white with fury. “You worm,” she hissed when she sat down in her usual place right behind Vargas. “Never trust a known enemy, Woodlouse,” Vargas smugly replied. Professor Barnacle entered the classroom. “We shall do a little test today. I want to see if you’ve done your homework. Pack away everything aside from your quills and ink, please,” she announced happily.

Vargas turned around, his face a cloud of anger. “Just you wait,” he muttered. “I hope you’ve got a photographic memory,” Patience hissed and grinned savagely. Tonks giggled. Professor Barnacle handed out cheat-proof parchment and waved her wand at the blackboard. Runes appeared, and Patience saw at once that one word was completely different from the homework. She laughed inwardly, hoping that Vargas would just write down what he remembered. She set down to work on her test.

When Professor Barnacle told them that the time was over, she laid down her quill with the feeling of having done well. Vargas, on the contrary, looked livid with fury, and Tonks looked doubtingly at the rolled parchment. “That’s just mean, such a test,” she stated miserably. The professor gave her a smile. “It won’t be too bad, Miss Tonks.” “We shall see,” Tonks replied gloomily. Professor Barnacle looked around the class. Nobody was very happy, apparently. “Fine. We shall first translate the following passage from the Saxon Baptism Oath. It was written down in 772 and the language is of course Saxon. Please try to translate it into present-day English.” Patience grinned and whispered: “I know that: Ec forsacho diabolae. My dad told me.” Tonks nodded grimly. “Very well, you and me are going to work together.”

They set to work, as did Vargas in the row in front of them. Professor Barnacle meanwhile took the time to have a first look through the tests. After half an hour she decided the students had had enough time for the translation. “Miss Wood, please read your and Miss Tonks’ translation,” she asked. “Do you forsake the demons? I forsake the demons,” Patience began reading. “And all the bad spirits? And I forsake all the bad spirits. And all the devil’s works? And I forsake all the devil’s works and words, Donar and Wotan and Saxnot and all the ogres, that are named here.” Professor Barnacle nodded. “That was very good indeed, Miss Wood. Take five points for Gryffindor, then, and five points for Ravenclaw as well, Miss Tonks.” Tonks and Patience beamed.

“Now to your tests. It seems some of you were just re-writing what they had kept in mind from the homework. Therefore you did not see that the wording was slightly different. I begin to think some of you had their texts under the tables,” Barnacle sternly said and looked at everybody. “Please take out your homework.” Everyone groaned but presented their homework. Barnacle walked through the class, looking closely first at the respective test, then at the homework. Many people squirmed under her inquisitive glance. When she came to Vargas, she nodded. “Just as I thought,” she remarked. Seeing Patience’s untidy parchment, she raised her eyebrows surprised. “My cat spoiled it and I saw it too late to do anything about it,” Patience lied without blinking. Vargas turned slightly, surprised.

“Next time don’t let your cat get near your homework, then. However, you couldn’t possibly have copied from that,” Barnacle remarked amused. Patience grinned and nodded. The inspection continued, and Vargas had a very uneasy feeling. “Well, then let us first read the original text. Miss Jennings, if you please.” Susan Jennings of Hufflepuff read with a clear voice: “Wyrm com snican toslāt he man, ða zenam Wōden VIIII wuldortānas, slōhða nælddran.” “And the translation of this passage? Mr Bagoony?” Ashraf groaned but read his translation: “A dragon came sneaking up to a man and tore him into pieces. Then Wodan took nine gleaming sticks and slew the snake with them.” “Exactly. That is the translation you had to do in the test. In your homework there were not wuldortānas, but fella blótspánn, meaning sacrifice sticks.” Barnacle wrote down the matching runes. “Only three people in this class found the difference.”

Silence greeted this revelation. “I find that the anti-cheating parchment isn’t working well with your class.” “It wasn’t anti-cheating parchment, was it?” Ashraf asked. “Exactly. I had hoped this would scare you enough not to try and trick me,” Barnacle sighed. “But apparently, even in your last year at Hogwarts, it is not beneath you to cheat. And as you were as bad at cheating that I found you out, you will do a detention tonight and translate the complete first chapter of Beowulf into runes.” A groan was the answer, but Barnacle was not yet finished: “Those three who obviously did not cheat, Miss Tonks, Miss Jennings and Miss Wood, are excluded. Mr Vargas, I want to have a word with you after the lesson.”

The bell released the class. “Wow – glad I didn’t cheat,” Tonk breathed. Susan Jennings came over to her and Patience. “That was just luck,” she stated. Patience nodded. “Are you coming?” Tonks enquired when her cousin seemed bent on lingering. “Actually, I wanted to see Vargas…” “To rub it in? No, come on,” Tonks grinned. Patience sighed and nodded.

 

At dinner that day word travelled around the Great Hall that Ramon Vargas had not only copied homework and spoiled the original parchment but also had been stupid enough to get caught. “Like some bloody first-year,” Fred Weasley snickered. “You wouldn’t have been as daft even as a first year,” Mike remarked and shook his head.

At the Slytherin table, Vargas sat fuming. His face was rather red, and he looked none too happy to have to translate not one, but two chapters of Beowulf. “And all of that just because he smudged my homework. Three cheers on Ramon Vargas!” Patience said mockingly and raised her goblet. Vargas saw it and stormed out of the hall. “Just too sensitive, that one,” Brian remarked and the Gryffindor table burst into laughter.

 

The Quidditch Final

Quidditch was the main topic of the talk in Hogwarts’ corridors and common rooms. The final was about to come, and it was Ravenclaw versus Slytherin. Patience was all excited and asking each and everyone about their opinion of the outcome of the match. She even cornered Sebastian Cook: “Cook, just a question: Do you really think Slytherins abysmal team will win?” As Cook was without his cronies Banks and Vargas, he looked around frantically for help. “What? Not even an own opinion? Oh, Cook, you’re so pathetic!”, Patience sighed dramatically.

That was caught by Rosemary Holmes, a Slytherin girl. “Cook? He can think only when his brain Vargas is near!”, she laughed. Cook became red as a beet. “I have my own opinion, and I bet Slytherin will win!”, he instantly said. Patience giggled. “Really?  Don’t think so. But if you want to bet…” “Not with scum like you!”, Cook hissed and ran off.

“Hi Rosemary. Tell me why you are in Slytherin”, Patience grinned. The girl shrugged. “Because the Sorting Hat put me there. You’re right, some of us really are a nasty folk, but do you already know Justus and Donald?” “Not very well, I’m afraid”, Patience had to confess. “No problem. Jus! Don! Over here!”, Rosemary called. Two boys, both tall and blond, came over, smiling pleasantly.

Patience scanned them suspiciously. They didn’t really look like Slytherins. Maybe she should have thought of that before. She realized she had thought them to be Ravenclaws – and as she had felt so sure she hadn’t noticed the green coat of arms on their robes. “You know Patience Wood of Gryffindor, don’t you? These are Donald Rump and Justus Gordon”, Rosemary introduced them. “Hi”, the boys said in one voice. “Hallo. I’m asking everyone what they think the outcome will be”, Patience explained her errand. “We think Ravenclaw will beat Slytherin”, the two again said as one. Patience had to bite her lips not to laugh. “Thanks for your tip”, she said and walked away.

She encountered Hengist and Anne in the corridor. “You should see Dumb and Dumber, really. Justus and Donald of Slytherin, always talking the same. It’s so funny!”, Patience burst out. Hengist nodded. “I already came across them. I wonder if they talk like that in lessons as well!” This was so amusing the tree of them couldn’t stop laughing. “Who is going to comment this weekend’s Quidditch final?”, Hengist asked. “Stupid question!”, Patience exclaimed and touched her friend’s forehead to rule out he had no fever.

“It was absolutely earnest. Who will be your successor? Wouldn’t it be good to build him or her up right now?”, Hengist explained his seemingly stupid question. Patience was pale now. She had forgotten that this was her last year and she would never again comment Quidditch – unless she became a professional. “I already thought of a worthy one”, Anne spoke up. Patience looked at her friend encouragingly.

“Lee Jordan”, Anne revealed. “Lee Jordan? The Weasley twins’ best friend?”, Patience asked carefully. “Let him do a comment next training of the Gryffindor team”, Hengist suggested. “That’s exactly how I got my job”, Patience dreamily remembered. “Right you are. Do it, please”, Anne begged. “What do they pay you?”, Patience jokingly asked.

They had entered their classroom by now. Professor Binns wasn’t there yet – although one never knew when the ghost would come through the wall or his desk. “Now what will we do today? The umpteenth Goblin Rebellion?”, Hengist asked, placing his books so he could rest his head on them. Anne had some extra leaves of parchment to write and draw during the lesson. Only Patience was really interested in what Binns had to tell.

He entered this time properly through the door – properly for a ghost, for the door was closed. After seven years of History of Magic and three of them with Binns as a ghost, the students had got used to their teacher. “Good morning. We will do something important today. Important for the exams.” Even Hengist’s head jerked up hearing that. Ghewyn dipped her quill into her ink and waited eager to write.

“I think we already talked about the medieval situation of the wizarding world. But we haven’t talked yet about the more liberal muggles. There were some who really estimated the help of skilled wizards. Witches, however, weren’t that highly regarded. This was due to the common resentment against women in these times. Well, one very important man for the development of wizardry in England was King Arthur”, Binns commenced his sermon. Ghewyn’s quill was racing over her parchment, but Patience was only listening. King Arthur wasn’t unknown to her.

And she knew what was to come: “Merlin”, she whispered to Anne who rolled her eyes bored. “Merlin”, Binns indeed said, “was the first wizard known to have lived at the court of a sovereign. However, he was not the only one. In the 12^th century, the Sicilian King and Roman Emperor Frederick II had a magician at his court as well. Does anyone of you know by chance who that was?” The ghost looked around through his misty glasses. For some moments, Brian and Mike stopped their game of cards. Patience’s hand rose.

“Yes, Miss Wright”, Binns friendly said. Patience gritted her teeth. When would the old professor manage to get her name right? “I think you are talking about Michael Scotus”, she firmly said. Binns seemed delighted. “Yes, yes, Miss Wright, Michael Scotus. He was a Scotsman and a very skilled wizard. He wasn’t used for predictions or hocus-pocus, but he was nevertheless ready to be an entertainer for parties of the court. One day, when Frederick gave one of his famous festivities, Michael summoned thunderstorm clouds to give a bit of dramatic illumination. His presence at the court was one of the main points of critique against Frederick when he was accused of heresy by the pope.”

The class was bored again. Arguments between the pope and medieval emperors were of no real interests to them. Patience raised her hand again. “Yes, Miss Walker?” “Wood”, Patience couldn’t help correcting him. “Professor, wasn’t the fact that Frederick was friendly to Jews and Saracens alike the worst accusation against him by the Pope? And wasn’t this only a fake accusation because the pope was afraid Frederick would usurp even the Church State?”

Binns stared at her. “Er… yes, yes, Miss…ah, Wood. But still the presence of Michael wasn’t favourable. Let us switch times and come to the 16^th century. In France reigned the dynasty of the Valois, and for her under-aged sons reigned Queen Catherine, a born Medici of Florence. She used poison and potions to control the court. And before Miss Wood tells us that this is only a later accusation and not confirmed at all I will inform her that the wizarding world has proof for her use of magic against her opponents and that she herself might have been a witch”, Binns quickly said, seeing Patience scowl again.

“Well, Catherine had the famous Nostradamus in her service. One might call him a colleague of our Professor Trelawney”, Binns told the class. Hengist had to laugh and converted it quickly into a cough. “I hope he was more successful”, he giggled. Anne nodded and Patience grinned broadly. “As a homework you will write me an essay either about Merlin, Michael Scotus or Nostradamus”, Binns closed his lesson.

“That was an interesting lesson, really”, Patience stated. “Speak for yourself”, Anne grimly said. Then she pointed to Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins. “Now go and get it, Missy Wood”, she joked. Patience sighed. “I really don’t want to give my job to another”, she sighed. Hengist patted her shoulder sympathetically. “I fear you’ll have to do it”, he said.

Patience grimaced and walked over. “Lee, I have a question: Do you want to be Quidditch Commentator once I’m gone?” The wins’ eyes grew big as tennis balls. Lee beamed. “Sure! That’s great!” “Well, you’ll have to do a test, mind. Next Gryffindor… No, wait, next Hufflepuff training will be fair, what do you think?” “Patience, why not Gryffindor?”, George asked curiously. “Well, he’ll be biased enough once he has the job. I want the test to be neutral as much as possible. And when was Hufflepuff ever good at Quidditch?”, Patience asked.

“They have been”, a haughty voice told her from behind. Patience swivelled around. Ryan Reese, a Quidditch player of Hufflepuff, stood there and looked disgusted at the four Gryffindors. “Must have been before my school time”, Patience lightly answered. Ryan nodded slowly. “Yeah. But Gryffindor isn’t that successful as well since Charlie Weasley has left”, he remarked casually. Patience’s face grew hot but she stayed silent. There was no use in arguing. Ryan was right. Gryffindor’s team wasn’t bad, but it also wasn’t brilliant. A pity! “Hey, Ryan, what’s the matter?” Another couple of Hufflepuffs came along.

Stephen Fetters, chaser, and Vashti Reda, chaser as well, came strolling over. “We were discussing the merit of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team”, Patience informed them. Then, with a quick side-glance at the twins and Lee, she added: “Seems you are very proud of your last place in the school Quidditch cup.” The three players looked angry, but as this was a fact not to be denied, they went away, fuming silently.

To the next Hufflepuff training (“Quite pointless as they’re not going to play again this season”, as Patience pointed out), Lee Jordan and Patience Wood went to comment. There were some Hufflepuffs in the stand, but Patience dragged Lee to the empty teachers’ stand. “listen, McGonagall says you’re not going to be allowed to use the Sonorus-charm. I guess that’s because I sue to forget to de-sonore my voice”, Patience told the boy. She held something behind her back.

“What is that?”, Lee wanted to know. “That is a megaphone, as muggles call it. It is a magical megaphone, however, and you’ll be able to reach each and every ear of this pitch.” Patience handed the megaphone to Lee who tried it out by calling “Go Gryffindor!” Of course the Hufflepuffs yelled over to them to be silent. “What do they want? We’re also only third, which means second last”, Patience laughed. The wind was quite hard that day and it constantly blew her hair in front of her glasses. “If that wind doesn’t blow Stephen fetters off his broom, the attack of Ryan Reese certainly will”, Lee shouted through his megaphone.

Patience applauded. “Great. Go on”, she told him. “The chasers are practising with the Quaffel. Seeing their imperfect tactics in fooling their own keeper it is no wonder Hufflepuff has the last place in the inter-school house cup!” Patience squinted over to the very furious Hufflepuffs and decided it would be wiser to leave and let Lee be commentator.

 

Another Nightly Visit in the Library

Dumbledore kept it as a secret that Anne had been responsible for the incident with the burning door. He even denied her to go and see the injured student. After some time all was back to normal again. Even Anne’s interest for pranks returned but since her last trick turned out to be a catastrophe she made sure to do it right the next time. She set her task very high. She wanted to do something extraordinary. Something outstanding. Something the whole school would never forget. The only problem was that she had no idea what that would be. She couldn’t consult the library in broad daylight either. She was so far from even having the slightest idea of what to do that she decided to check the library at night.

She had neither told Patience nor Hengist of her plan for the simple reason that there was no plan except that one of sneaking illegally into the library. When she thought that everybody was asleep she got up and left Gryffindor tower. The castle was very quiet. When she entered the library she heard some noises. Carefully she followed them and caught a glimpse of Ramon Vargas opening the door to the restricted section. “What a surprise to see you hear! I didn’t even know you could read. Or do you just want to enjoy the moving pictures?” Anne asked in her usual mocking voice. Vargas turned around and stared at his enemy. “What are you doing here?” Realizing that that had been much too friendly a reply for somebody like Anne he added. “Bet professor Snape will be delighted to hear that you are here. I’ll better go and tell him, Symmons.”

“Mind you, you’re out after hours, Varg-Ass.” Anne retorted. Vargas approached her. “You better watch your language or…” “Don’t touch me or I’ll kill you that very moment.” Anne barked and made him stop. He remembered too well the threatening spell she had used the term before. “I could tell Snape that I had heard you planning to come here tonight.” Vargas said. “And you better tell him that professor McGonagall allowed me to be around for stargazing, want to see it black on white?” Anne held up a piece of parchment. Vargas’ mouth fell open. “A pity, being caught after hours in the restricted section of the library and that in your last year.” Anne shook her head. “Snape won’t be too happy about that, I wonder…” “Don’t tell anyone.” Vargas started. “I’ll do what you want but don’t tell anyone.” Vargas begged her.

If he had known that the piece of parchment contained only the notes of the last history lesson and that Anne wasn’t supposed to be anywhere but in bed he would have behaved and treated her differently. “What on earth could Vargas give to me?” Anne asked herself. She couldn’t think of anything but since she couldn’t possibly give him away she would better ask for something. “I could do your homework.” He suggested. Anne frowned. “No thank you, brainie.” She whispered. Vargas was the most intelligent of the Slytherin trio but Anne was pretty convinced to be more intelligent than he was. “Your wish is my command.” He assured her. “Is that so?” She cooed. “For how long would that be?” She added in a more down to earth sort of voice. Vargas could have kicked himself. “A day.” He replied.

Anne shook her head. “A week.” He suggested. “I’ll better be off to Snape’s rooms.” Anne said turning to leave. “Wait!” He called after her. “For how long do you want me to serve you?” He asked in a trembling voice. “The rest of the term.” Anne told him coolly. “What!” He shouted. “Oh yes, go on like that. I won’t have to get Snape for you then.” Anne told him. “But you seem to want him to come anyway.” She added. He hesitated for a second. “Okay, but I won’t do any pervert stuff.” He agreed. Again she frowned. “Well I hope that.”

“Who is there?” The all too well known voice of Filch called into the library. ‘Damn’ Anne thought and ‘Damn’ was what Vargas said. “I’ll have to get a book now.” Anne whispered but Vargas held her back. “You’ll have to show your allowance to him and tell him that it had been you who made the noise. I’ll go and hide.” He told her. Anne shook her head. By that time Filch was already very close. “We’ll better go and hide.” Anne suggested. Vargas followed her to one of the rows at the very end of the library. Filch was walking carelessly through the library and therefore didn’t find them.

“Why didn’t you tell him. After all you got that damn piece of parchment.” Vargas took it. “I don’t believe it. You bluffed. That’s not by McGonagall.” Vargas said in a surprised voice. “Damn you, you almost tricked me into serving you for the rest of the term. And you were here just like me. You couldn’t have given me away without giving yourself away.” It was funny that Vargas didn’t seem to be angry on the contrary he sounded impressed. “You would make a great Slytherin, you know that!” He said. “Well, thanks if that was a compliment.” Anne replied. “You know I wouldn’t hang around with Cook and Banks if you were a Slytherin.” He told her. Anne didn’t know what to say except. “Well, I’m lucky then, aren’t I?” Vargas laughed. “I guess no one is giving the other away then.” Vargas said. She shrugged. “Would be pretty stupid.” She added. He nodded. “You’re all right, you know that?” Vargas told her and kissed her on the cheek before he disappeared into the darkness. Anne stayed behind. “What was that?” She asked herself. The only explanation was that Vargas needed his eight hours of sleep and wasn’t sane if he was up so late at night. Anne decided not to tell either Patience or Hengist.

Viper's Grass

Professor Pomona Sprout walked proudly through her herb garden. Everything was thriving and growing and flourishing. There was the scent of green peter, of basil, of marjoram. She loved this. Sprout turned the corner to examine the rarer breeds of herbs. The dragon tooth was growing nicely, as was the hyssop. But there was a brown, shrunken something. Sprout bent closer and exhaled her breath sharply…

At the same time, Professor Severus Snape was walking through the potions dungeon and examined the cauldrons of his Advanced Potions Class. There were only eleven students left doing the subject. Snape was rather pleased with his ability to reduce the number of students so effectively. As usual in the advanced classes, students had to form groups in which to work and develop new ideas. As usual in Hogwarts, those groups consisted mostly of people from one house. The three Slytherins sat together. Snape inspected the work done there and was not very happy when he found out that Ramon Vargas was doing all the work while Lisa Snipes and Helen Miller did all the chopping for him. Perhaps, Snape thought, perhaps he ought to talk to the boy later on.

At the Ravenclaw table, Nymphadora Tonks had just smashed David Bantam’s bottle of armadillo bile and Victoria Hall was simultaneously scolding Tonks and scooping up the liquid. Hufflepuff Vashti Reda had lapsed into giggles. Snape frowned. “Miss Reda, what is this supposed to be?” he asked, idly scooping up a spoonful of the thick tar-like stuff from Vashti’s cauldron. Vashti turned bright pink and stopped giggling. Satisfied, Snape walked on to his least favourite table.

There they were, the Malignant Magpies, two of whom Snape had only permitted to do the class because of Dumbledore’s personal intervention. And Julian Fairchild from Hufflepuff, who seemed eager to outdo Patience Wood. Snape examined both cauldrons and raised an eyebrow. He would never ever stoop as low as to tell a Gryffindor that a potion was well done, but there was nothing he could possibly criticize in Patience’s cauldron. However, that was made up for by the bubbling bluish liquid in Julian’s cauldron. Snape tutted softly and scribbled a mark into his notebook, making sure Julian saw it was a D.

Snape returned to his desk and said softly: “Time is up. Fill a phial and label it and hand it in. Those grades are vital for your N.E.W.T.s. Potions like this are likely to come up in the exam, so if you receive a grade lower than A, you should practise them day and night.” Most of the class groaned. Patience and Anne exchanged a glance. Anne shrugged. “He’s mean as usual,” she whispered. Patience nodded. “Sorry, Julian, I thought your potion was fine,” she told the Hufflepuff student. Julian sighed. “You’re his favourite anyway, so I can do what I want.” “A favourite with Snape? Me?” Patience laughed out loud and clapped a hand in front of her mouth.

Too late. Snape looked over. “It seems to amuse you, Miss Wood, that the class has trouble with simple antidotes. Detention, tonight, eight o’clock, my office.” Patience opened her mouth and Snape waited for her retort, hoping to be able to give her a week’s worth of detentions, but she shut her mouth again and nodded. Hengist looked relieved. He had stepped with force onto Patience’s foot to stop her.

Before Snape could set the class homework, the door flew open and Professor Sprout came in. “It’s all died,” she said breathlessly. Snape looked puzzled. “What has died?” he asked. The class listened with interest. “You know what. It’s gone. Completely gone. We need to find a way to replace it – and quick,” Sprout told Snape, a look of despair in her face. “We will. Get out,” Snape said, turning to the class. Reluctantly, the students filed out.

Julian grinned. “No homework,” he remarked cheerfully when they were in the corridor. “Yes homework. We could practise,” Anne said, trying to imitate Snape but failing because she had to laugh. Patience frowned. “You know, that might be a nice idea. We could do a kind of training club.” “You mean, practise for potions and the exams?” Tonks asked curiously. Patience nodded. “We could ask Professor McGonagall if there’s a room where we can do this,” Hengist suggested. “And who’s to tell us if we do it right?” David Bantam asked uncertainly. Tonks smiled. “Well, Patience, of course.” “Oh no, I’m not that good,” Patience said at once. Hengist groaned. “Yes you are. I’ll talk to McGonagall, and we’ll tell you if we get an okay.”

“And if we don’t,” Anne said determinedly, “we’re gonna do it anyway. I for one won’t have Snape gloating over my failure.” Murmurs of appreciation answered. Needless to say, neither Vargas nor his two servants Helen and Lisa were present. “We could use Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom,” Victoria Hall thought aloud. “Good idea. Or we could even do it down here,” Vashti suggested. “Without Snape noticing? Impossible,” Hengist said. “Right. We’ll find a way,” Anne resolved.

 

However, Patience’s mind was not on the extra potions classes when she walked down to Snape’s office that evening. She did not know just how many times she had done detentions down there. It had to be countless times, no doubt. Once a week, perhaps. Patience sighed. If Snape were not so unfair, potions would be sheer delight. She stopped in front of the office. Counting to three before she knocked, Patience strained her ears for sounds from inside. But the door was impenetrable. Patience wondered if one could chuck things at it without being heard outside. But she knocked at last and was called in.

“On time,” Snape remarked by way of greeting. “Yes, sir,” Patience replied. Snape did not even look at her. He was examining a huge, leather-bound book with golden print. After five minutes of silence, Patience cleared her throat. “Erm… Sir, what do I have to do?” Snape looked up, almost surprised to see Patience in his office. He scrutinized her face for a moment, then seemed to resolve on talking.

“Sit down,” he said. Patience obeyed. Snape pushed a heap of books towards Patience. “Frankly, we need someone with new thoughts,” he then began. Patience frowned. “New thoughts?” she asked puzzled. Snape nodded. “I am sure you were surprised about Professor Sprout’s words this morning.” Patience nodded. Snape took a deep breath. “I want you to keep silent about this. Not even your closest friends are to know about it. Understood?” Patience nodded again. “Good. I shall know if you told somebody,” Snape warned Patience who never doubted his words.

“Professor Sprout had a new plant in the gardens that is used to heal sores. Muggles mainly use it for cooking. Dill, you see. Unfortunately the plant died completely, and Madam Pomfrey is at a loss. Several of the younger students suffer from quite unexplainable sores and boils and need treatment. The dill was our last resort. And now we need something else,” Snape finished his explanations. Patience understood. Without saying anything, she took up the first book of the heap, then hesitated.

“Sir?” she said tentatively. Snape looked at her expectantly. “I just wondered… Do we have hyssop?” “Of course we do,” Snape said surprised. “Well, I know that hyssop mixed with wine and viper’s grass makes an electuary against cough,” Patience explained. “Cough? If we dealt with cough we’d be lucky,” Snape said sarcastically. “Yes. I know… it’s only… I read about viper’s grass and it’s abilities, and it seems to work on wounds as well,” Patience reported.

Snape began to understand. “You mean the ability of viper’s grass to disinfect and draw together wounds?” he asked. Patience nodded. “And you think that it could also draw the infected matter out of the boils and sores and dry them,” Snape said slowly. “Yes, sir. But I might be quite wrong,” Patience added hastily. Snape gave her a half-smile. “I don’t think so. Go and fetch the viper’s grass.” “Dried or fresh?” Patience enquired. “Dried and fresh,” Snape ordered.

 

They met fifteen minutes later in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey was administering a painkilling elixir to five first year students whose faces were unrecognizable thanks to the sores and boils covering them. “What hit them?” Patience asked shocked. Madam Pomfrey sighed. “We’d be better off if we knew. Have you found a way?” she asked Snape who nodded. “Miss Wood might have,” he said honestly. Patience blushed. “Try and give them viper’s grass,” she said. “As an infusion as well as chopped and made into a mush on the sores,” Snape added. “Viper’s grass. Well, I never,” Madam Pomfrey said surprised.

She vanished into her office and they heard vigorous chopping noises and the sound of boiling water. “Can I stay and see if it works?” Patience asked Snape. He nodded. “You should. Inform me when you see results.” He left the Hospital Wing. Patience was not sure whether to be scared or proud of her task, but she took a chair and waited. When Madam Pomfrey had prepared both ointment and infusion, Patience helped to administer the medicine. The infusion was bitter and the students retched, but Patience gently forced them to swallow.

“Now it’s waiting,” Madam Pomfrey said briskly. “A cup of cocoa, dear?” Patience agreed gratefully. “I wonder why you were drawn into this?” the nurse asked when she and Patience were in her office enjoying a nice cup of hot cocoa. “I had detention tonight,” Patience confessed. “Hm. Very convenient indeed. I heard you were quite good at potions.” “You can’t have heard from Professor Snape,” Patience blurted out and coloured instantly. The matron smiled. “No. Professor Dicket said as much.” “Oh. He’s very kind,” Patience muttered, but looked pleased.

A noise from outside roused them both, and Patience followed Madam Pomfrey to see to the students. A little girl was already looking less red and swollen. The sores had begun to close, and the boils looked smaller. “It’s alright,” Madam Pomfrey said relieved. She turned to Patience. “Tell Professor Snape it was successful. And remind him that it was you who found the remedy and not him.” Patience beamed at Madam Pomfrey and ran down to the dungeons.

She knocked forcefully at Snape’s door. ”Yes?” the professor called from inside. Patience pushed the door open. “It worked!” she exclaimed. Snape stayed behind his desk, apparently unmoved. “Very good. Now go to bed, it is late. Here.” He handed Patience a scrap of parchment. “What’s that?” Patience asked. “A note saying that I kept you in detention so long. It’s past nine p.m., you’re not supposed to be in the corridors,” Snape said coolly. “Oh,” Patience said lamely. Snape returned to his work, and Patience, feeling utterly downcast now, left the office.

She was furious. How could Snape ignore what she had accomplished tonight? And the worst was that she could not tell anyone about tonight. She had promised silence. That dratted Snape. That git. Inventing various ways of paying Snape back, Patience returned to Gryffindor and went to bed straight away so not to vent her anger on her friends.

Snape, in the meantime, waited until Patience’s steps had retreated. Then he allowed himself to smile. Yes, Patience Wood did have a talent for potions that exceeded every other students’. She was brilliant, as Emerson Dicket used to say. Snape took his notebook and put an E behind Patience’s name. This night she had definitely earned an extra grade.

 

Riddles About Ramon

The last weeks had passed without any Vargas-incidences – at least not of the nature of the one happening in the library. Anne had decided not to waste her time thinking about Vargas since he behaved more or less normally – well whatever was normally for somebody like Vargas. But one morning she received a letter. “I thought your parents had already sent you one last week, funny they should write twice.” Patience remarked. “Maybe they have forgotten that they sent one last week.” Anne thought aloud opening the letter indifferently. The first glance at it made her turn pale.

“It’s not bad news, is it?” Hengist asked concerned. Anne put the letter back in its envelope. “No. It’s Glenda. I’ll read it later.” She lied. It had of course not been a later from Glenda. More surprisingly it had been by Vargas. It told her to wait in front of the trophy room at one o'clock a.m. She wondered what made him think that she would turn up. Most probably it was a trick anyway and he would give Snape a hint that she was out after hours and getting her a nice detention. By the time she went to bed she decided to at least have a look at the scenery from a safe distance of course.

Ten minutes to one she got up again and sneaked out of the Gryffindor common room. Patience and the others had been asleep. Anne had put on a pair of jeans and a pullover. No socks but her fastest running shoes.

Some lines from an old play crossed her mind over and over again: ‘Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,/Men were deceivers ever:/One foot in sea, and one on shore,/To one thing constant never./Then sigh not so, but let them go,/And be you blithe and bonny,/Converting all your sound of woe/Into Hey nonny nonny./Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,/Of dumps so dull and heavy:/The fraud of men was ever so,/Since summer first was leavy./Then sigh not so, but let them go,/And be you blithe and bonny,/Converting all your sound of woe/Into Hey nonny nonny.’

Over and over again. ‘It’s true, men are not constant – far from it.’ She thought to herself. ‘And if Gregg could fall for me, why not Vargas? Neither of them received any kind of sign from me – at least not that I know of any. Maybe that is the problem, maybe I actually am sending signs to all sorts of men or at least some Slytherins. No, I don’t know about Gregg but definitely not Vargas.’ Anne was sure that the turning of Vargas’ heart had anything to do with her behaviour. She had been rude  and unfriendly to him ever since they had first met. She was then near enough to the trophy room – near enough to see and far enough not to be seen.

On the strike of one – well actually there was no clock around that could have stroke one – Vargas appeared. He was alone and there where no signs that there were more people around than him and her. She watched him for almost fifteen minutes. No sound could be heard. You could have heard a needle fall but there was no needle that decided to fall just at this moment. Patiently Vargas waited. He didn’t look at his watch a single time. ‘How long would he wait before leaving?’ She asked herself. Fifteen minutes would be pretty much the time Anne would waste on somebody like him – if that is she wasted it at all. Curiosity was what made her leave her hiding place.

As casually as possible she walked towards her enemy. “I thought you wouldn’t come.” Vargas whispered giving her a warm smile. “I thought you wouldn’t come.” Anne replied coldly. “What’s this nightly rendez-vous about anyway?” She added sounding as if she was at the edge to boredom. “It’s no rendez-vous, not yet that is. It’s a business meeting.” Vargas explained. “I didn’t know I had business with you.” She retorted. “Well, you are here, aren’t you.” Vargas observing gaining some of his former arrogance.

“Are you in for a prank?” He asked as if he was a teacher testing the knowledge of one of his students. “What kind of prank?” She asked and her voice conveyed as much arrogance as possible. “A little prank to an annoying student.” He revealed without revealing much. “Oh, judging you it must be a Gryffindor then.” Anne said coolly. Still she wasn’t sure if it wasn’t her he was playing a trick on. “Not this time. It’s a Hufflepuff and a nuisance. Its name is King.” Vargas made a short pause to give Anne the chance to react appropriately. She didn’t move – not a single muscle inside her dared to cheer or to woe.

“You know that fellow?” He asked carefully though knowing the answer. “As if you didn’t know.” She replied unmoved. She had to admit that Vargas was the owner of an outstanding intelligence. He had chosen the only person at Hogwarts both could play a trick on without any regrets. Anne would have backed out if it had concerned a Gryffindor and he if it had concerned a Slytherin. There was no annoying Ravenclaw, which only left Hufflepuff. Vargas had been right. John King was a nuisance.

“What do you say, Anne?” Vargas asked observing that her mind was working out the possibilities of a successful teamwork between the two. “What would somebody like you do to somebody like him?” Anne wondered not really expecting an answer. But Vargas did reply. “A snake in his bed.” By the sound of his voice Anne knew that it hadn’t been a joke. “Well, it seems you have it all worked out already. You won’t need me. Good night.” She wanted to know more about her part in this and was sure to make him tell it to her straight away when in danger of her leaving the secret meeting.

“All I have is a plan. But where would I get a snake and how to get it to John?” To get a snake, well that was kind of a challenge. To get into one of the bedrooms wasn’t, at least not to Anne. “A Slytherin has problems to get a snake – that should be funny.” She remarked having decided that it wasn’t best if Vargas knew how much the thought was tempting – right then there were many tempting thoughts in her mind. “Yeah and it would be quite obvious.” He reminded her. “It’s not my fault that Slytherins can only think of snakes.” Anne retorted. “What would you choose?” Vargas interrogated. “An armadillo.” She replied without the slightest hesitation. “As if an armadillo would scare anybody!” He sniggered. “A snake then.” Anne repeated.

Vargas nodded. “There should be some available in the forest.” She mused. “The Forbidden Forest?” Vargas asked ina surprised voice. “We are forbidden to go there!” He stated. “Oh yes, stupid of me. I forgot that we were allowed to play tricks on fellow students but were not allowed to go to the forest.” Anne mocked. “You’re not serious.” Vargas replied triumphantly. Anne blew out some air threw her teeth. “It seems that we won’t do business with each other.” She declared sounding if that had been exactly what she had expected but without disappointment. Vargas took a deep breath. “All right. We’ll go to the forest.” He finally managed to say. Anne nodded a self-satisfied nod. “I’ll check which snakes are available.” She told him. Now it was Vargas’ turn to nod. They separated without another word.

Anne did check the kinds of snakes that lived in the forest. Soon she had decided to choose a harmless, non-magical snake to scare the wits out of… “Since when are ye int’r’sted in snakes?” Hagrid asked looking over Anne’s shoulder and reading or at least trying to read the Latin name of the snake she had just selected as the one. “Na-tri-x nat-rix co-lu-bri-da-e” He frowned. “I ne’er ‘eard of such a snake. Is it magic?” Anne shook her head. “Just a little brush up on muggle biology. I think I saw one of those crawling around Hogwarts.” She lied.

Hagrid took a closer look. “Yeah, ye are right, saw them too. Usually lying on the big stone.” Hagrid told her. She smiled. “It says they like warm places.” Her smile had turned to grinning. “Cle’er things those – what wes th’ name ‘gain?” “Natrix natrix colubridae.” She enjoyed speaking those words. “Right ye are.” He said and left. She should have been very thankful cause Hagrid had told her the exact place where she would find the snakes. After returning the book to the library she wrote a short note. ‘It’s ridiculous to write to somebody who is so close.’ She thought to herself. The owl she had chosen to deliver the message looked at her as if it had better things to do than to fly to Slytherin tower and back. “Hurry off.” Anne ushered it out of the window.

Vargas took the note from the owl’s leg. Of course Banks and Cook were sitting next to him. “Who’s writing to you?” Banks wanted to know. “None of your business.” Vargas replied absent-mindedly. Cook only understood the word ‘business’. “What kind of business?” He asked. “Shut up.” Vargas snapped. He stood up and wanted to leave. “Where are you going?” Banks asked hurrying after his friend. “A place where I can read my letter in peace.” Vargas spat. “We’ll come with you.” Cook jumped from his chair. “The place where I can read my letter in peace must fulfil only two conditions: First, you are not there.” Vargas pointed at Cook. Banks gave a short laugh. “And second:” Vargas went on turning to Banks. “You are not there either.” He left leaving his comrades behind.

Of course he had already read the short note of Anne’s. It had only said ‘meeting’ – no greetings, no names, no nothing. It was almost time to have dinner and so he decided to place himself near to the entrance to the Great Hall. Patience, Hengist and Anne had been outside – cloud-gazing. When Vargas had spotted her he turned away and avoided to meet her or her friends. “Oh, I forgot something.” Anne told her friends. She turned and went back to the entrance hall while her friends continued their way upstairs. Next to Vargas she knelt down pretending to tie up one of her shoes. “Where?” She asked in a whisper. “In front of the Great Hall, during dinner.” He hissed back. She gave a single nod.

“What does that mean, you are not hungry?” Hengist asked her. She rolled her eyes. “That means that I won’t eat tonight.” Anne explained. Patience shrugged as Anne went back to the dormitory. “But she’s always coming with us, even when she doesn’t want to eat.” Hengist looked questioningly at Patience. She shrugged again. “Do you think she is up to something?” He asked. Again Patience shrugged. “I do not know.” She replied. “She had this book from the library.” “On snakes.” Hengist added. Patience shrugged. “That doesn’t mean anything, does it?” Hengist frowned. “I wouldn’t be so sure.” Patience wasn’t indifferent but she had learned over the years that when Anne had decided not to talk she would stuck to this decision no matter what one tried to get at least a wee bit information out of her.

Together they went down to enjoy their meal. “Wasn’t Vargas standing there when we returned to the castle?” Hengist asked in a whisper. Patience grinned. “Maybe our dreams have come true and someone has petrified him.” She said amused.

When most of the students had turned up Anne went down to the hall. Vargas was already waiting. “What’s new?” He asked her. “I know where to get the snake.” Anne whispered. “Well, forbidden forest, you already told me that.” He replied. “On the Barbarossa-stone.” Anne told him. “We can’t go there.” Vargas replied in the normal volume of his voice. One of the first years was late for dinner and ran downstairs noisily. Vargas and Anne turned away from each other. “Can’t we discuss this quietly?” She asked with a scolding undertone. “Why can’t we go there anyway?” She added in a whisper.

Once more the door to the Great Hall was opened this time it was a fifth year who seemed to have got lost on the way. “Let’s go somewhere else.” Vargas suggested taking Anne’s hand carefully. He lead the way and although Anne knew many pathways through the castle she wasn’t familiar with that one. “Where are we going?” She asked after the second staircase. “Slytherin tower.” He replied. Instantly Anne stopped. Her eyes were wide open. “Are you mad?” She asked. “They are all down in the hall, what could happen.” He explained and dragged the unwilling Anne further away.

He stopped in front of the entrance. He turned to her. He put his indicating finger on his mouth. “Squib” Anne’s mouth fell open. “After you.” Vargas invited her. He pushed her softly. Anne held her breath when she stepped inside. It was a cold and not very comfortable room – not what anyone would call cosy. There were a lot of stones and the fire was nearly burnt out. “Take a seat.” Vargas pointed at a green sofa. She sat down. Vargas placed himself next to her. Anne turned to him. “Why can’t we go there?” She repeated. “Because everybody will see us!” Vargas told her. Anne shook her head. “No one is watching during the meals.”

    Vargas shook his head. “We can’t.” He insisted. “You prefer to walk through the bushes of the forest until we come across one?” She asked in a mocking voice. “It will take too much time and it will be too obvious.” “Not if we are there before. We could pretend to be strolling around.” She suggested. “You mean you and me?” Vargas asked a little irritated. She shook her head. “Separately.” She added. “But we won’t know if everybody is to have dinner or lunch or whatever.” He threw in. “You don’t worry about that.” She said. “Don’t you think they will miss us?” “Well, we’ll find out soon enough.” She whispered.

It was obvious that the two presently were not to have dinner. “Funny.” He said. “With Banks and Cook it is me who has to do all the thinking.” Anne almost choked on swallowing her comment on his intelligence. “It’s much nicer this way. When will we gather the snake?” “The day after tomorrow.” “And when will we place it?” Anne grinned evilly. “The very same night.” Vargas joined the grinning. “It’s a pity you’ll have to go now. I think we could talk for hours.” Vargas said to her when he opened the door. “Yeah.” She said not really being convinced.

The days passed fast. It seemed that no one had noticed the coincidence of the two missing students. Anne had talked to one of the pictures so that Peeves was able to hear them. In the course of that talk she had asked after Peeves and indicated that he had turned very quiet. She had even asked if he was still at Hogwarts. Finally she had mentioned that he was a nuisance especially during dinner. That had made sure that Peeves thought of a prank to play during that meal. Since he was very fond of throwing water at people he decided to do that.

Vargas and Anne were waiting close to the forbidden forest. Peeves was so loud that they could hear him. “Let’s go then.” Anne approached Vargas and together they went a little inside the forest but still in sight of the castle. Vargas had a little bag in which they wanted to put the snake. Anne had to catch it. Vargas preferred to hold the bag and open it. The snake was an easy prey. “Better you take her.” Vargas passed her the bag. By that time Filch was very furious. He had to clean all the messes Peeves had ever produced. Peeves was sent to the Bloody Baron who scolded and punished him severely.

Back in the dormitory Anne had another look at the snake. “Don’t worry dear, we’ll find you a nice warm place were you can spend the night. I hope you don’t mind company.” Vargas had fallen asleep with an evil smile on his face knowing that Anne would take the snake to where it was planned to be with an annoying student. When everybody in Gryffindor had fallen asleep, she sneaked out carrying the snake. She was especially careful. She went a few staircases up and some down before she had reached the tower. “Squib.” She whispered and the door opened. Vargas had told her a little bit about Slytherin tower and therefore she knew where his dormitory was.

Silently she climbed up the stairs and entered the boys dormitory – the seventh year boys’ dormitory to be precise. Everybody was asleep. Carefully she passed the different four-poster beds trying to find Vargas. It was easy to find his dark hair the fire gave just enough light. When she was sure that it was Vargas she freed the snake. Slowly she put it under the cover next to his feet. He began to move. She was petrified. Fortunately he was only rolling from the one side to the other. Still she had grabbed the snake tightly giving it just enough freedom to breathe. She let go of it and hid it under the cover. Silently and hurriedly she sneaked out of the dormitory and left Slytherin tower. She had to hurry because she was sure Vargas would make a fuss when he found the snake and that he would find it very soon she was sure.

Back in Gryffindor tower she got undressed and hid the little bag. Not even ten minutes passed before McGonagall entered the dormitory. “Wake up, Miss Symmons.” She whispered in order not to wake up the others. “Go away Patience!” Anne whispered sleepily and turned away. McGonagall shook her carefully. “You got to wake up. Mr. Vargas was bitten by a snake!” McGonagall told her a little louder. Anne opened her eyes. “What?” She said in her normal voice very close to shouting. “Shhhhh!” McGonagall put her indicating finger on her mouth but too late Patience, Ghewyn and Catherine had woken up. “Say that again!” Anne replied – again in her normal voice. “Ramon Vargas was bitten by a snake.” McGonagall repeated. “Why are you telling me?” Anne asked innocently as a flower. “He says that you put the snake in his bed.” McGonagall informed her. “I’ll have to take you to professor Snape.”

“What has he got to do with it?” Anne asked getting more or less dressed picking socks of two different colours and messing up the buttons and holes of her blouse. Then she put on blue trousers. She didn’t brush her hair. Last she put on her glasses. “I’m ready to go.” she yawned. “What about shoes?” McGonagall asked. Anne looked down to her feet. Then she looked around the room until she saw her shoes. She put them on and tied them up. Patience watched all this. She knew that Anne had at least in mind to do something. She would have loved to ask if she had done it but with McGonagall in the same room that was impossible.

McGonagall led Anne to the hospital wing where Vargas was sitting on a bed. He grinned darkly. Snape was there as well and so was Madam Pomfrey. “How are you?” Anne asked in a voice that wasn’t exactly kind but at least not hostile. “You bitch!” He shouted at her. It might have been ‘witch’ but Anne definitely understood ‘bitch’. “Severus, I don’t think she has done anything. She was fast asleep when I entered the dormitory.” McGonagall told her colleague. “We’ll find out. I’ll give her veritaserum, Minerva.” Snape snapped and left not without looking angrily at Anne. McGonagall joined Madam Pomfrey next door leaving Anne to her fate and Vargas. “Now you’ll be expelled.” He said triumphantly.

“First, if you can remember I already took a potion once and it had no effect on me and second, what do you think I would tell them?” Anne asked in a calm voice. He swallowed. “You wouldn’t tell them…” He replied. “I wouldn’t bet on that.” She whispered. “You almost killed me with that snake!” He complained. “It was only a slowworm – that isn’t even a real snake and far from being poisonous – besides you thought it all right for John King!” Anne spat back. “I wonder what the professors think of your plan!” She said thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t tell them!” Vargas said in a very convinced voice. “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t. I’ll get a detention anyway…Well, I think I can hear footsteps.” “How about that: I tell them that you didn’t do anything and you won’t mention John King.” Vargas suggested trying hard to hear the footsteps approaching.

Anne paused. “I don’t think that will be enough.” She said in a thoughtful voice. “What else do you want?” Vargas asked hurriedly. “Let’s see. Wasn’t there the offer of your service for the rest of the term?” Anne asked. “You’re kidding. You’re only bluffing. Just like you did the last time.” Vargas said furiously. Anne shrugged. “Maybe, if you think you’ll win…” Snape was already turning the handle when Vargas finally agreed. “All right!” He hissed.

     “Now, Miss Symmons, you will drink this.” Snape ordered passing her a little bottle. “Professor, I was wrong. It wasn’t Anne. I found the snake yesterday and showed it to Banks and Cook. I must have forgotten about it.” Cold sweat was on the forehead of Vargas. Snape turned back to Anne who was yawning. “If you want me to drink that…” She started but McGonagall interrupted her. “I told you she hadn’t anything to do with the whole business, Severus.” McGonagall said almost scolding him. “You better get yourself back to Gryffindor then.” He told her.

Back at the dormitory Patience was very curious to hear the story but Anne refused to tell her until the next morning. “I would have loved to see that! Vargas screaming and jumping and all because of a slow-worm!” Patience giggled. The slow-worm had bitten Vargas in his foot because he had placed it on top of the snake. His left foot was bandaged. Banks had been imprudent enough to tell everybody how brave Vargas had been trying to fight the dangerous snake by screaming and throwing things at the poor thing. For the next weeks Vargas was the laughing-stock of the whole school and the personal servant to Anne.

 

A Wedding

It was a bright day at the end of February when Professors Dicket and Balloon were going to marry. Hogwarts was draped in silver and white and rose coloured satin. The armours had fresh roses in their visors. The ghosts were fluttering about in very good mood (excepting Peeves, who wasn’t allowed to appear by order of the Bloody Baron, and Moaning Myrtle who was sulking in her toilet). The students had a day off for the ceremony. “Dress robes are required for everyone above the second year”, McGonagall announced.

Hengist grimaced. His dress robe was something strange, for his parents, Muggles as they were, had chosen it according to Muggle taste. That meant it looked like a much-too-big tuxedo. Patience and Anne took it to them to console him. Patience even suggested she should shorten it a bit. “And if it goes wrong?”, Hengist asked and shook his head. “No, thanks, I’m going to wear it.” And so he did. He had even somehow managed to flatten his curls. “Hey, wow, Anne, you look fabulous!”, he exclaimed when Anne came downstairs into the common room. That was certainly true. Mike Flatley whistled appreciatively. Anne smiled. She wore her dress robes which were a deep burgundy red of a shimmering cloth. Her hair she had braided into several braids and had made a kind of dark crown in which fair roses were pinned. “Who has done that?”, Brian asked, carefully touching one of the roses. “Patience”, Anne answered.

“Where is she? We’re only waiting for her!”, Catherine nervously said. Ghewyn hit a chair with her hand. “Why does she always have to be late?”, she hissed. “That’s unfair, Ghewyn, she isn’t always too late”, Hengist cut in. “But she is now, worse enough!”, Ghewyn snapped. “Am I?”, Patience’s voice asked amused from above. The Gryffindor seventh years turned. Patience enjoyed the attention. Hengist hurried forward and offered her his arm. “May I lead you down to the Great Hall, Miss Wood?”, he gallantly asked. Patience took his arm. “You make a funny couple”, Mike laughed. The others laughed as well.

Yes, it was funny. Hengist in his strange tuxedo-like robe and Patience in a magnificently embroidered dark blue robe. “What are the signs on this robe?”, Nelly asked, secretly envying Patience. “Alchemy signs”, Patience answered. They had by now reached the staircase. Farther they could not get.

McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout were standing in front of the doors to the Great Hall. They also wore dress robes, which meant not really a change in colours. “Attention!”, squealed Flitwick, to no great effect. Snape’s cool snarl worked much better. “Listen”, he said. “You will silently file into the Hall and take your seats. You will not jump up when the happy couple enters, and you will cause no mayhem whatsoever!” The gaze of the cold black eyes met the Malignant Magpies and the Weasley twins in special. The Malignant Magpies put on their most innocent faces. To Flitwick it seemed to work, for he beamed up and waved at Anne and Patience. Snape scowled.

“Now, come on, we’re opening doors now”, McGonagall said, nevertheless throwing a stern glance at her Gryffindor flock as well. Year after year, the students filed in. There were no teachers’ tables today but rows of benches. The students had to sit down in their respective rows as well. The front row was occupied by first years, and so on.

Patience and Hengist were disappointed. “We’re not going to see much”, Patience complained. Anne eyed her. “What do you want to do?”, she asked. “I don’t know. Float up in the decisive moment?” “No”, Hengist quickly said before Ghewyn could heat up again. Patience shrugged and took her lot.

Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen, and neither were by now Flitwick and McGonagall. “Where are they?”, Brian asked, looking around curiously. “Oh, no!”, he suddenly said, pressing a hand on his mouth to stop himself bursting into a violent fit of laughter. Hengist looked into the same direction and couldn’t help grinning broadly. “Watch our three Slytherin friends”, he whispered. Patience and Anne obeyed. It was such a sight indeed! They wore identical pitch-black robes with very big silver buttons bearing a golden snake on them. It made them look like three extremely dumb brothers. “That the new fashion?”, Mike couldn’t stop himself calling over. Roland was about to answer, when Snape appeared. “No calling, no fight”, he growled and vanished again. “No wonder they didn’t want him as best man”, Anne murmured and caused stifled laughs in her row.

Finally music set in and the ghosts came floating in. There were two first year girls with flowers. “Oh, good, they’re already dead”, Anne giggled. Patience grinned as well. “There they come!”, Hengist said excitedly. Patience tried to stretch herself as far as she could. She could even catch a glimpse of Emerson Dicket’s very nervous face with the tiny sweat beads on it. And then Holly came. She was walking at Dumbledore’s side, in a magnificent magenta dress robe and a wrath of white roses in her blonde hair. She was smiling but also seemed on the verge of tears. Behind them walked the bridesmaid Minerva McGonagall and best man Flitwick. They took their places. Some other wizard had stepped up. “Ah, well, I already wondered”, Patience said, almost falling off her seat in her violent attempt to watch. “Who is he?”, Hengist asked.

“Cornelius Fudge, a secretary at the Ministry of Magic. My dad once had to deal with him”, Patience explained. “So he’s going to..”, Hengist began, but a sharp glare of Sprout’s stopped him in an instant. The ceremony began. Secretly, Hengist didn’t think it much different from the wedding of his muggle aunt last year. But nevertheless it was a wonderful ceremony. Floating candles were lit the second they were pronounced to be married. Never had the professors looked so happy before.

Although Hengist had been right and the ceremony itself had not been different from muggle ceremonies, the party afterwards was quite different. Not only were there living doves in white and rose fluttering through the Great Hall and golden rings loosened and entwined themselves magically. Flitwick had had considerably too much wine for him. He was chatting all the way the greatest nonsense.

The only teacher still completely sober was Snape. “A pity”, Patience laughed. “We could have fun making him do things he would never do with his wits clear!” The Head Boy and Girl had to give a speech. That meant, Ghewyn flicked some imaginary dust specks off her robe and went up to the front, followed by Ravenclaw David Bantam. Hengist’s eyes were fixed onto the boy. Anne noticed Patience’s were also. She only knew of the Valentine her friend had received. But as both girls knew very well Hengist’s little infatuation they kept silent.

The speech was very boring, but as no one really listened, not even Dumbledore, it was received graciously. Out of nowhere, music arose, and Holly and Emerson danced the first dance. Dumbledore and McGonagall followed suit. Hagrid asked Sprout. Snape stayed glued to his seat. Patience grinned. “He didn’t say we shouldn’t be polite, did he?”, she asked Anne. Anne frowned. “What do you mean? Hey! Where are you going?” Hengist and Anne stood there, terrified, watching Patience walk forward through the dancing crowd towards the teachers’ table. “What is she going to do?”, Hengist whispered although knowing perfectly well what would happen. They also went through the crowd to be able to listen to what was to come.

“Sir”, Patience said in a clear, fearless voice. Snape looked up from the golden rings he had been absentmindedly playing with. “Would you like to dance?”, Patience went on. Snape stared at her. “Miss Wood?”, he asked puzzled. “Would you like to dance, sir?”, Patience replied patiently. Hengist and Anne had to cling to one another not to fall because of laughing so hard. Snape’s face was a sight! He looked shocked as if someone had told him his robes were all brightly orange or something. But he slowly got up. “If you insist”, he snarled. Patience, never having thought of him agreeing, now looked shocked in her turn, but recovered after a few seconds. Whispers spread through the Hall when she stepped to the dance floor accompanied by Snape. The music was a slow waltz.

To Patience’s (and every other’s) surprise Snape was a good dancer. They didn’t talk, though. Anne sighed. “She must be out of her wits a bit to dance with the son of a bat”, she complained to Hengist. The boy only shrugged and offered Anne his hand. “We’ll join them, won’t we?” And they did. When the waltz was over, Snape bowed and headed back to his place, but was caught by his sleeve. “Oh, Severus, you must dance with me!”, said Professor Trelawney, flushed and excited like a young girl. There was no escape to Snape, and the only thing he said to Patience was a hissed “Thanks, Miss Wood!” She grinned broadly. Suddenly David Bantam turned up next to her. “Do you care to dance with me, or would you rather wait for Snape to be free again?”, he smiled. Patience laughed and gladly accepted his offer.

Late in the night, when the party was over and everyone was in their beds, Anne and Patience were still awake. “Why did you ask Snape of all?”, Anne asked sleepily. “Because I thought he’d say no”, Patience answered, yawning. Anne chuckled and fell asleep. Patience smiled to herself. How strange that Snape should have accepted!

 

Men Are Trouble

Valentine’s Day arrived shortly after the wedding. “It would have been more romantic if the wedding itself would have taken place at that day!”, Catherine sighed. “Dream on! Life is not like your love novels!”, Brian rudely commented. He was angry with Catherine for turning him down several times. Instead, she kept sighing when good-looking Head Boy David Bantam passed. Patience and Anne used to make fun of the Bantam fan club, but only when Hengist wasn’t near. He still was lovesick with the boy, who showed no sign of noticing Hengist other than in his function as prefect.

“We should write Valentine’s greetings tonight”, Patience thoughtfully said. “I think I’m not only going to write the usual ones, but also some to our Slytherin friends. They deserve a greeting, having received such nice presents for Christmas!” Anne shook her head. “You’ll get yourself into deep trouble!”, she warned her friend. “I want to leave with a bang, just as you do, and I want these three expelled! Or miserable as much as I can make them”, Patience furiously said. “Do what you please. I’ll be on your side”, Anne shrugged, starting to write some lines on a parchment. Patience grinned seeing they were dedicated to Hengist. Dear Hengist! He deserved a true Valentine. And so the girls wrote the whole evening Valentine’s greetings.

The next morning, February 14, owls fluttered into the Hall delivering small cards everywhere. Patience watched the Slytherin table intently. There! Cook had finished reading his. He looked over to the Gryffindors, seemingly ready to kill. “What exactly did you write them?”, Hengist enquired. Patience handed him a copy of her Valentines for the Slytherins. There were three of them:

To Sebastian Cook

Hush! Some beast is

Near! That one, he’s

Ugly, and dumb, and

All over the land

People shrink back

Of this lack

Of mind and look

Disgusted at Sebastian Cook!

Hengist nearly choked at his toast because of laughing. Anne, who already knew the contents, grinned evilly. Hengist read on:

To Ramon Vargas

Oh! But for a troll

You would be nice

And we’d take a stroll.

As you are human

And a Slytherin

No one likes you, man,

And so you’ll stay in!

“That’s hard stuff, dear Patience“, Hengist sighed. “But it’s really wonderful. I don’t think Vargas enjoys it as we do, though!” “Read my masterpiece, the one to Banks,. I can recite it, if you want!”, Patience eagerly said. Hengist folded his arms in front of his chest and waited. Patience cleared her throat and began, in a slightly hushed voice:

“To Roland Banks.

A primrose is delicate,

A billywig is blue,

A troll is a dunderhead

And so are you!”

The Gryffindor table howled with laughter, and Banks’ face got dark with fury. “Ah, I like the one for me. Thank you!”, Anne said, glowing at her friend. “Oh, yes, I can write nice ones as well”, Patience modestly smiled. Hengist and Anne exchanged their greetings from Patience. Hengist’s said Truly Valiant, truly true, truly Gryffindor – and that’s you! Anne’s was a bit more elaborate, but still such a lot nicer than the Slytherin ones Hengist wondered how so much evil could there be next to so much friendliness:

To Anne

The queerest creatures love you

But my cat, she does not.

But yet I have to tell you:

I belong to the first-mentioned lot!

“Patience, there is an owl for you!”, Ghewyn informed her classmate amused. “You haven’t noticed it, but it has been sitting here for at least five minutes.” Patience raised her eyebrows. “Who would write to me? Anne’s and Hengist’s I received already up at Gryffindor Tower!” Curiously, she opened the envelope, dreading the Slytherins had come to the same evil idea she had. “The Slytherins aren’t that poetic, do you think they are?”, she asked Anne who simply shrugged. “Never know what they try to get noticed. Be sure to have a laugh, no matter how derogative it might be!”

Patience opened the card with slightly trembling fingers. Then she blushed, looked up to the Ravenclaw table. “That can’t be true!”, she whispered, dumbstruck. Her colour changed to white again. Anne snatched the card. “Oh!”, she said, trying not to let Hengist see it. The card read:

To Patience, from David B.

The loveliest rose

Of all Hogwarts blooms

In Gryffindor House

And haunts all these rooms.

Her face is a wonder,

Her eyes like the sea,

Oh, a girl like that yonder

I never did see!

“Oh my god!”, Patience whispered. Anne nodded. Hengist looked questioningly at the girls. ”Nothing”, Patience lied quickly and badly and crumpled the parchment card into her robe pockets. Which was completely wrong, for David Bantam looked crushed.

“Anne, Hengist, I think I have to talk to someone”, Patience said, hoping her friends would get the hint. Anne at least reacted as she wished. “C’mon, Hengist, she’s gonna talk to someone to cross him or her off her list. As it’ll be most likely boring weather or Quidditch talk… We’ll reserve you a seat at Transfiguration!” Anne pulled Hengist with her, although he was on the verge of asking a thousand questions.

Patience straightened her robes and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. David Bantam looked up. “Thank you, David”, Patience simply said. David beamed at her and almost jumped from his seat. “You liked it”, he asked eagerly, though quietly. “Yes, very much so”, Patience confessed. “Shouldn’t we go outside?”, she asked David, very aware of the thousand envious glares hitting her. David smiled and agreed. “Do you know how embarrassing it is always to be stared at?”, he asked amused. “I can imagine it”, Patience said sympathetically. “Oh, well, you and Anne are the only girls not noticing me”, he laughed. Patience smiled abashed. “Sure”, she mumbled.

She couldn’t tell him it was because of Hengist. They hadn’t even reached the first landing of the marble staircase when a cold, clear voice called from below: “Wood!” Patience turned on her heel to see Banks, Vargas and Cook, all three bursting with fury. Patience thought it was somehow very funny, those three tomato-red faces, scowling and looking a bit like a ferocious, three-headed, ugly dog. “Wood, this was one insult too much!”, Vargas hissed. David snorted. “She can’t insult anyone, Vargas!”, he called down. “That’s none of your business, pretty boy”, Banks answered. “Wood, this is an ultimatum: either you’ll come up with an apology by tonight, or you’ll pay for it!” “Banks, if this is your threat, you’ll have to strain your minds. Just one thing: If  we have to fight this out – and I bet we will, it’ll be a decent wizard’s duel!”, Patience declared very calmly and dangerously.

David stared at her as if she had turned into a medusa. Cook looked dumbfounded. “Never heard of that, Cook? How will you pass your N.E.W.T.s?”, Patience asked ironically. Banks held Cook back. “Okay. Your apology or we’ll meet to duel”, Vargas announced and turned briskly, motioning his cronies to follow him. Patience breathed in deeply. “A duel?”, David Bantam asked carefully. “Of course”, Patience said briskly. “I don’t believe it”, David slowly began, “I mean…” He trailed off, looking slightly unsure what to say next. Patience smiled weakly. “I’m part of the Malignant Magpies, did you forget? I’m not an angel. Far from it.”

     She gently pushed him aside and ran upstairs towards Gryffindor. In front of the portrait of the Fat Lady she stopped. “Now, dear, is the devil after you?”, the picture kindly asked. “No, just a bit of training”, Patience lied. “Planta Genista!” And the portrait hole swung open, admitting Patience into the spacious Common Room. No Anne, no Hengist – and the sound of the bell reminded Patience where she should be by now. She ran to get her bag with her books, snatched some loose leaves of parchment and ran down again. She ran all the way, ignoring even Peeves who was throwing water bombs. That was a huge mistake, she was soon soaking wet. “Oh no!”, she panted, stopping to clutch the stitch in her side.

The closed door indicated McGonagall was already inside. Patience tried to listen to what was going on inside. The teacher was looking around to check if everyone was there. Patience drew in her breath, straightened her shoulders and knocked politely. McGonagall beckoned her in and she opened the heavy oak door. “Miss Wood! Where have you been?”, the Gryffindor House Teacher asked sternly. “I forgot the time”, Patience answered, slipping into her seat. “I’m sorry, professor.” McGonagall nodded. “We are going to transfigure these cushions into baby dragons”, she announced. Anne looked delighted, Hengist doubtful and John King positively devastated. Patience didn’t dare to grin.

Today she knew she had to be very watchful. These damned Slytherins! In the break between the two hours of Transfiguration, Anne asked Patience where she had been. “I met the Slytherins”, Patience said glumly. Hengist sighed. “What is it this time?”, he asked unnerved. “Don’t ask, you’re a Prefect, and you’d better not know!”, Patience answered miserably. Hengist shook his head, but it was too late, McGonagall again called for their attention. So far no one had managed to transfigure a cushion.

Patience and Anne had at least managed that their cushion was spitting fire. “I could make that thing fly over to Slytherin and make them have a hot night”, Patience muttered. McGonagall scowled at her. Patience knew that at the least disturbance she would be in for a detention. And that brought her to an idea… She waited until McGonagall was watching them and leaned over to talk to Hengist. Before she could get farther than addressing him, the teacher was next to her: “As you seem so keen to get a detention, Miss Wood, I will oblige you. You may polish some trophies tonight.” Patience managed to look deeply ashamed and mumbled an apology.

At the end of the lessons, when still no dragon had appeared, McGonagall told them all to practise the charm as a homework. “Does she want to set Hufflepuff Tower on fire?”, Hengist asked amused on their way to Defence Against the Dark Arts. “No, not really”, Anne giggled. “Maybe rather Gryffindor – Patience, why did you want a detention?” “I told you, don’t ask”, Patience tried to evade her question. She had a feeling Anne wouldn’t like the duel at all. “I’m neither a prefect nor anything else official, so tell me. Hengist won’t give us away, will you, Hengist?” “No, of course not. But I fear we haven’t got much time!”

That was true. Holly Dicket was already waiting for them. But something was strange. She was beaming so much today and started telling them only about pixies and doxies and other kinds of fairies. Hengist couldn’t stop himself and raised his hand. “Mrs Dicket, what has happened?”, he bluntly asked. Holly blushed deeply, but didn’t look in the least offended. “I have an announcement to make: I’m giving up teaching!” The class stayed silent. They had already had another Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Hunter Preston. Most of the pupils never knew what had happened to him, but Patience and Anne knew perfectly well he was by now an inmate of Azkaban. “Why?”, Ghewyn piped up. Holly’s smile, if possible, got even deeper. “I’m having a baby!” The class erupted in congratulations. No proper lesson was possible by now. No one was unhappy about that, especially not the Malignant Magpies.

Hengist and Anne cornered Patience. “You must talk!”, Anne urged her friend. Patience sighed. “No, not now, there are too many people listening”, she tried to get out of it. “No way, young lady”, Hengist smiled. “Tell us. You meet the Slytherins, you get a detention from McGonagall, something you never did deliberately before – and we shall not worry?” Patience hung her head.

“I’m having a duel with the Slytherins. With one of them, that is. They told me either I’ll come up with an apology this evening or we would have to fight it.” Anne gasped. “You didn’t agree?”, she asked but gave the answer herself: “You did. Of course you did.” “Yes, I did. And the detention – well, I can’t possibly be in two places at the same time, so I can’t apologize. It gives me no way to avoid the duel.” Patience looked quite determined by now. “We’ll help you”, Hengist instantly said. Anne nodded. “We won’t let you down. When will the duel take place?” “Not tonight, that much is clear”, Patience grinned. “Tonight I’m going to polish the Quidditch Cup. A pity we can’t win it this year…”

Hengist frowned. “Why not?” “Because the Slytherins are way up ahead of all the other teams. Get to reality, Hengist, I’m deeply sorry for Gryffindor, but it won’t be our year in Quidditch!” “And I would be grateful if even Miss Symmons, Miss Wood and Mr Alret turned their attention to the pixies again”, Holly Dicket interrupted their conversation. The Malignant Magpies succumbed to that.

When Defence Against the Dark Arts had ended, Patience threw her books into her bag. “You’ll make it split”, Ghewyn told her. Patience nodded grimly. “And if I did what would that mean to you?”, she asked snappily. Ghewyn blushed and walked away. Hengist sighed. “Thanks, now I’m in for another lecture about hanging around with you two in spite of being a prefect!” “You know what? We have a free lesson now!”, Anne changed topics. “Right!”, Patience called from the door. “And that’s why I’m hurrying!”

She was halfway up the stairs before Hengist and Anne reached her again. “What are you going to do?”, Hengist panted. “Reading”, Patience answered curtly. “Reading?”, Anne asked. “Reading what?” “Remember that book I bought in the second hand shop in Shrewsbury Magical Quarter?” Anne nodded. “Well, that was a book about duelling, wasn’t it? I’m going to win that duel, and I’m going to cause as little damage as I can.” Hengist shook his head. ”Okay, I’m going to the library to look for some spell books. Anne?” “Oh, my world are jinxes and curses”, Anne grinned. “See you in the Common Room!”

Anne and Hengist walked off towards the library while Patience continued her way to the Common room. “Planta genista!”, she told the Fat Lady who was chatting with a wizened witch Patience didn’t know. “Right, dear. Vi, this is Patience Wood, our exceptionally good Quidditch commentator!” Patience smiled. “Nice to meet you”, she said to Vi. “I’ve heard a lot about you and your two friends. But most of the teachers laugh about your jokes as much as the students!” “Violet, you shouldn’t tell her that, it’ll make her only proud of being such a.. malignant girl!”, the Fat Lady joked and swung open to let Patience enter.

In front of the fire place were two red heads visible who turned abruptly when they heard someone coming in. “Hi Fred, hi George!”, Patience greeted the Weasley twins and walked straight up the spiral staircase to her dormitory. Only when she came back down, carrying her duelling book, she frowned. “Say, what are you doing here? Don’t you have lessons just now?”, she asked suspiciously. “We’re ill”, Fred informed her. “Yeah, right”, George seconded his brother. “You don’t look ill to me. You even do not sound ill”, Patience told them. “But we didn’t want to do Herbology today, so we developed an allergic reaction to the mandrakes we should be re-potting by now”, Fred explained the fake illness. “How did you develop the reaction?”, Patience wanted to know. George laughed. “Nothing as easy as that. We put a pimple charm into our rolls at breakfast that would break out only about 3 hours later, and the second we touched the mandrakes the pimples began to… sprout.” The boys laughed both.

Patience shook her head. “I bet she sent you to the Hospital Wing”, she guessed. “Course she did, and we were there, and we told Madam Pomfrey what had happened. She cured us but told us not to go back. That’s why we’re here!” Fred smiled evilly. “We’re taking this time to think of some prank we could come up with this week.” “Oh, right. Have fun, I won’t tell you off!”, Patience grinned. “I’m really the least person to tell anyone off”, she said reasonably.

    Then she flung her book onto a table and sat down in her favourite armchair, her feet tucked under. “What are you going to do?”, Fred enquired curiously. “Reading”, Patience said amused and opened her book, careful not to let the boys see the cover. But that was too late. “Duelling?”, George asked all excited. “Whom are you going to duel? Is Professor Dicket teaching you how to duel?” “Not your business, and no, she isn’t”, Patience answered the questions. “So you are going to duel. Weird!”, Fred stated awed.

He and George bent again over their parchment with ideas for pranks, occasionally glancing over. Patience was writing and reading simultaneously, jotting down notes on useful tips and useful curses. As yet she hadn’t found something really impressing and yet not too dangerous. “I can’t curse their heads on fire, can I?”, she asked Anne when her friend and Hengist returned with books from the library. “Not unless you want to be expelled”, Anne answered. Hengist opened a book and showed a spell to Patience. “What d’ya think of that?”, he asked, his eyes sparkling. “You’re a genius, Hengist Alret!”, Patience exclaimed and embraced her friend thankfully. “What are those doing here?”, Anne asked, jerking her head towards Fred and George. “Faking an allergic reaction”, Patience giggled.

The afternoon seemed to creep. After lunch they had again a free lesson. Anne suggested to look for an empty classroom to practise some curses. Patience agreed. Hengist and Anne alternately were Patience’s opponents. “Okay, and now try the one I’ve found”, Hengist begged after having been victim to the Full-Body-Bind for the third time in a row. Patience laughed. “Okay, but choose wisely”, she warned him. “Right. I want to see you dance, my dear!”, Hengist joked and pointed his wand at Patience. Anne, sitting on a desk, was watching the action attentively. “Tarantallegra!”, Hengist cried, and only a second later Patience cried her counter spell. It worked very well.

Patience, laughing much too hard to do anything, motioned to Anne to stop it. “Finite Incantatum!”, Anne called out. “Great! Mind you, you can only do it once, so wait until it is really good”, Hengist warned Patience. A look on his wristwatch made him curse violently. “Hengist!”, Anne and Patience exclaimed in one voice. “Well, we’ve got exactly three – two – one seconds to get to Potions before Snape is there!”, Hengist counted down the time. “Oh no”, Anne groaned. “Well, another detention is in for us, I fear”, Patience sighed. Nevertheless the three of them headed towards the dungeons. The door was closed, and they could hear no sound from within. “A sure sign Snape’s already in there”, Hengist whispered. They looked at each other. “Who knocks?”, Anne asked uncertainly. Patience pressed her lips into a thin line and knocked curtly. “Come in!”, Snape’s voice snarled. “Doesn’t sound very inviting, does he?”, Patience mumbled before opening the door and walking in as if nothing at all was wrong.

“You are too late”, Snape stated. “Yes sir. We’re sorry, sir”, Patience answered coolly, offering no explanation at all. The Gryffindors stared at them with horror, the Slytherins with obvious glee. “Well, get to your seats then. We will see if you have done your homework well and will test your antidotes towards the complicated poisons I told you to research!” Anne’s eyes grew wide. She had forgotten to look things up! Hastily she unpacked her parchment, ink and quill and scribbled: Have you done the homework? Patience looked at the message and smiled a little. She nodded reassuringly. Hengist looked doubtfully at them. He was sure they were in for a poisoning, and right he was: “Mr Alret, why don’t you volunteer to take the poison?”, Snape asked. “Oh, I’m not really…”, Hengist began, but the look on Snape’s face told him it would be better to just swallow the poison. “Miss Wood will prepare your antidote. Mr Cullen, you’ll be the victim to Miss Symmons’ antidote.” Anne blanched.

Snape allowed himself the shadow of a smile. “And if you’re not up to it, you should quickly say so. Miss Wood?” “I’ll brew whatever you want”, Patience told him without even taking her eyes off him. Snape nodded curtly. “Miss Symmons?” “Not me, please”, Anne whispered. “Well, Miss Symmons, clearly being nosy and… malignant is not everything. Let’s say we’ll take five points from your house, because of you and your friends being late and because of your lack of attention!” Brian Cullen was obviously relieved. Hengist silently wished Patience hadn’t been so bold, but now he had to face it.

“All of you will brew an antidote to the draught of heart’s disease.” Snape went to the board to write the ingredients on. “I really, really hope you do know the antidote”, Hengist whispered nervously. Snape turned and scowled at him. Hengist watched Patience nervously when she went to work. She chopped her roots neatly and added just the right amount of powdered wormwood. So far nothing went wrong. But Hengist had seen too many of Patience’s potions turn into poison and only being saved at the very last moment to be calm. Although Snape had condemned him, he seemed to be near at every stage of potion-making, having a watchful eye on Patience.

But she was concentrated today. This would be her masterpiece, she thought. When the fluid in her cauldron was simmering softly and was slightly blue-coloured, Snape told Hengist to drink the potion. “If it doesn’t work, Miss Wood, Mr Alret will suffer a violent heart-attack which will only end with his death. A painful, cruel thing”, Snape sneered. Hengist sighed deeply. “Miss Wood, if you would be so kind to administer the antidote?” Hengist thought briefly of the possibilities the antidote wouldn’t work. “Don’t worry, he would never kill you – rather me!”, Patience whispered. Hengist tried to grin, but failed. The whole class was watching him intently. “It should work in the next minute – the poison”, Snape explained. Hengist waited for something to happen. But nothing at all happened – no pain, no poisoned feeling, everything was normal. Snape seemed not in the least impressed. “Miss Wood has saved your life, Alret”, he grumbled.

At dinner, the Slytherin trio kept staring at the Gryffindor table. Patience had taken care to sit with her back to them. McGonagall approached her and assigned her for polishing trophies at 8 p.m. But after dinner, Vargas nevertheless came over. “Wood?”, he asked briskly. “Vargas, I won’t apologize for anything”, Patience told him coldly. “Then we have to duel, I’m afraid”, Vargas said, sounding positively delighted. “Right. My second is Hengist Alret. Who is yours?” Vargas grinned. “Sebastian Cook.” This choice surprised Patience. She had thought Vargas would rather choose Banks. She accepted, of course. “Spectators are allowed, of course”, Vargas stated. “Fine. When shall it take place?” “Tomorrow at 10 p.m. Do you know a safe place?”, Vargas enquired. “Fifth floor. Anne will lead you there.” Vargas nodded and turned away to leave the Hall. “Okay, you’ve heard it”, Patience sighed. “Duelling isn’t that bad, but there are things I like better!” “Yeah, me!”, Hengist instantly said and made Patience smile amused. “Of course, you and Anne and Bethesda and my family are on top of the list!”

 

Wizard’s Duel

They were lucky that still no lessons were held in the tiny room on fifth floor. It was a horrible day, though. Patience, though being well armed with jinxes, hexes and curses of the finest sort, was growing more nervous the nearer evening came. And the lessons had never seemed so long nor so boring than that particular Wednesday. The evening before, Patience had amused herself commenting the Quidditch finals in her mind while she polished the trophies. One made her stare. “Oh, Minerva McGonagall. Didn’t know that”, she murmured. Filch looked in. “Miss Wood, you’re allowed to go to your dormitory”, he had grumbled and shot a nasty look at her. Patience could have sworn he had mumbled something like he would get at her cat when he got his filthy hands on Bethesda. Okay, the part with the filthy hands was what Patience had thought to herself.

Flying, the first lesson, had kept her good-humoured at last. Anne had point blankly refused to mount her broom. Not even the remonstrance of her friends had made her fly. “I’m getting sea-sick, I already feel a bit weird today and so I’m staying with both feet on the safe ground!”, she had told Patience and Hengist. They had grinned, turned their backs to her and whispered. Turning back they shouted: “Terra Mobilia!” The ground beneath Anne’s feet started shaking and she yelled at Hengist and Patience to stop it. “Get me!”, Patience had called and jumped upon her broom and started soaring high into the air. “She does that very well, doesn’t she?”, Hengist admired the style of his friend. Anne still yelled he should make the earthquake stop.

Madam Hooch paid no attention – because she didn’t see or feel the shaking earth, she was telling some Slytherins to keep from knocking each other off their brooms. Hengist had finally stopped the earthquake. Anne had been sulking all through Transfiguration, so much, that Patience transfigured her pencil-case into a mini-pig with wings and playing a flute. That had made Anne smile again.

The free lesson they spent with practising all the nasty charms again. Then came Hengist’s and Patience’s least loved lesson: Divination. Patience was extremely near to busting into a furious tirade of how stupid one had to be if one believed that a fake horoscope (horrorscope, in Hengist’s terms) could really be crucial for life. Trelawney told them to practise palmistry again and called Patience to her. She rolled her eyes but obeyed, standing up so briskly the table shook violently. “Ah, my dear, your life line is very short indeed!”, the professor said, accompanied by the stereotype gasps and stifled shrieks of Catherine and Nelly. Patience bit her tongue not to retort. “And you seem to be in constant danger – especially on certain occasions. I’d say you better watch the moon, child!” “Is that all?”, Patience asked in a voice that hardly covered her impatience. Trelawney scowled very slightly but nodded.

“Watch the moon! As if!”, Patience hissed to Hengist who extended his palm. “Read my life, please”, he said, trying to calm her by behaving calmly himself. It helped to keep Patience silent during the rest of Divination. At lunch she wanted to refuse eating but was forced to do so with Fred and George’s help: “Either you eat this or we try you as our new guinea-pig!”

     This afternoon seemed to hurry on. “Isn’t it odd? When you don’t want time to pass it rushes on, and when you can’t wait to have something time seems to creep!”, Patience complained wearily. “Cheer up, we have History of Magic now – sleeping lesson!”, Anne joked. Binns hadn’t had the attention of his otherwise most attentive pupil. Patience instead scribbled incantations on a piece of paper and stunned some flies who were so careless to come near her.

Then it happened: A spider, creeping up the edge of Patience’s desk made her react hysterically. Although Hengist and Anne and the rest of the Gryffindors knew Patience could do the Unforgivable Curses they had never yet seen her do so after Holly Balloon’s (now Dicket, I know) lesson on the curses. But now she whispered: “Avada Kedavra!” and the spider dropped dead. The row in front of the Malignant Magpies turned in fear. Patience didn’t care, grabbed her bag and stormed out. Binns looked slightly disturbed but called the attention of the class back to the Rise of the Dark some twenty years before. Anne wanted to run after Patience but Hengist grabbed her wrist and stopped her. “No! Let her calm down first! Who knows, in this mood she could even finish up Snape!” Hengist sighed. “I should have presented Mungus to her, it would have been such a quick and clean death!” Anne nudged him very hard.

Patience in the meantime stormed around the castle. No students were to be seen. No Bethesda was to be seen, which was not unusual because she was often in the grounds when Patience had to attend lessons. But she met someone else: Albus Dumbledore himself. “Patience! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at lessons?”, he kindly asked.

Patience nodded briskly, her face dark. “Before anyone else tells you”, she blurted out, head high, eyes blazing. “I killed a spider with the killing curse, and I’m not sorry about it!” Dumbledore’s eyes began to widen slightly, then he smiled. “Ah, well, as I know particularly well how much you hate spiders it is… forgivable, although you promised never to use them again.” Patience blushed but still kept stubbornly defiant. “Patience, to scold you just now would be like throwing stones at a solid wall. It wouldn’t make you relent anyway. I’ll talk to you after your duel. Good luck!” Dumbledore walked off, whistling to himself.

Patience stood in the corridor and stared. How did Dumbledore know, and why didn’t he tell her off? In Charms Patience was back, ignoring the fearful stares of her classmates. As if she would kill them! Or maybe she should? Just one? She grinned nastily, pointing her wand lazily at Hengist who simply shook his head and confiscated the wand. “Patience, where were you?”, Anne asked worried. “Well, I’ve talked to Dumbledore, he wished me luck and said he would talk to me after the duel about killing the spider”, Patience gave the short version of events.

Professor Flitwick taught them how to charm simple objects so that they were magical. Patience’s pencil became a bit more useful for it became able to perform easy jinxes like a wand. Anne’s wrist watch became a sneakoscope, Hengist’s quill able to write on its own. It was fun. But at dinner Patience refused absolutely to eat. Hengist squinted over to the Slytherin table and saw Vargas also only nibbling at his food. He shrugged. “Well, do what you want. We have some hours in the Common Room before us, though”, he warned his friends.

These dull hours passed more quickly than the whole day had. They played Exploding Snap (Anne said dreamily it would be fun if the game was called “Exploding Snape” and Patience grinningly made the faces on the cards all turn into Snape’s face) and Wizards Chess, listened to endless Quidditch Strategies of Oliver’s and to various new ideas for pranks by Fred and George.

But then it was time to go and duel. They walked up to the fifth floor classroom. Anne stationed herself at the top of the stairs to lead the Slytherins who arrived shortly after the Gryffindors. They followed the ceremony closely. The opponents bowed to each other. Anne and Banks stood in front of the door, one ear to who passed or might pass outside. The seconds were standing behind the duellers.

When Patience stood upright again, Vargas was ready. They raised their wands and began to watch each other. Who would lose this battle of stares? Who would react first? It was Vargas, and all he produced was a simple Jellylegs-Curse Patience answered with the Tarantallegra-jinx, her favourite. The next round was better. Patience’s tickling charm hit Vargas so well he kept lying on the floor for five minutes until Cook, staring at him in utter amazement finished the incantation. “No Unforgivables, Wood!”, he said, his voice slightly shaking. So her little spider adventure had gone through the school already. “No?”, Patience asked. She briefly considered using the Cruciatus-Curse on Vargas. Hengist’s stern look prevented that.

“You wouldn’t attack someone lying on the floor?”, he asked Patience. “A Slytherin would”, she replied. Hengist snorted. “And are you a Slytherin?” Patience shook her head. When Vargas was up, knowing he had lost a round, she waited. She looked into the eyes of her opponent and shuddered slightly. What she saw was ugly and frightening. “This is the time”, she hissed to Hengist who nodded, gripping his wand tightly. Vargas aimed at Patience with a well-placed jinx. Anne closed her eyes. If that happened she thought would happen, Vargas would come off worse than expected. “Pilliaredux!”, Vargas cried. Patience swallowed and aimed at the red light flashing towards her. “Similia Similibus!”, she answered, and silver light shot out from her wand.

The red and silver streams intermingled and twined. Hengist and Anne, having seen the phenomenon before, staid calm, but Banks and Cook were flabbergasted. The silver and red stream became one golden streak. Patience’s wand was forcing this golden light towards Vargas. When it hit the boy, he lost all his hair at once – that had been the curse he had wanted to place on Patience. He screamed in pain because his skin was burning red and hot bubbles appeared. Patience stared but kept her wand aimed at Vargas. Hengist softly drew it away, the golden light faded and Vargas lay whimpering on the floor.

“Patience has won, Vargas”, Hengist announced. “If your pain is too much, go to Madam Pomfrey now. If not, wait until tomorrow. Know that this is the last time we deal with scum like you in private. Next time your humiliation will take place in public.” This speech they had prepared before, knowing the effects of the mirror spell there was no chance the Slytherin could have won. Vargas got up, helped by Cook and Banks and staggered out without another word. Patience put her wand into Hengist’s hand. “Will you keep it for me?”, she whispered. “I can’t keep it anymore, I’ve almost damaged him permanently!”

 Patience refused touching her wand for the next few days. Only when it was absolutely necessary for lessons she took it again, but gave it back to Hengist immediately when she had finished. “That’s ridiculous!”, Anne scolded her. Patience shook her head. “I know I was able to torture Vargas that night, and I’m not willing to do that again. I won’t touch my wand unless it’s absolutely necessary!” They were walking through a corridor while talking, and the pictures on the wall were whispering excitedly.

A pale, pearly-white, translucent figure came gliding towards the Malignant Magpies. “I have heard of your wonderful duel, Miss Wood”, Sir Nicholas congratulated the girl. She bit her lips and answered nothing at all. “It wasn’t your fault Vargas has to re-grow his hair and looks a bit burnt by now. Remember it was his choice of a hex, and he only had to suffer the mirrored hex”, the ghost tried to console her. Anne nodded vigorously. “Yes, but if Hengist hadn’t taken my wand I would have let it burn Vargas even more. And when he was lying on the floor laughing because of the tickling charm, I thought I could use the Cruciatus-Curse on him!” Nearly Headless Nick sighed. “Ah, well, that’s what happens to the best of us”, he wisely said. “I think you have suffered enough from Mr Vargas until this day to make you feel glad at any revenge you can get.” “No, Sir Nicholas, that’s not the point. I liked it. I liked seeing him in pain, not because of revenge but because it in a way satisfied me”, Patience explained.

Hengist rolled his eyes. “That’s what you have told yourself since the duel. It’s all nonsense, Patience. You didn’t want to hurt him, you simply didn’t know that your spell would react that way with a really bad hex. I mean, we only tried it with the Dancing Jinx, didn’t we?” “And if you won’t see reason, go to Dumbledore and confess”, Anne said sternly. Patience turned to her. “How do you know I was thinking about that?”, she asked surprised. “You’re like an open book to me. Go, now!” Hengist, Anne and Nearly Headless Nick watched Patience walk upstairs to the statue of the ugly goblin. “Anne!”, she called downstairs. “What could be the password?”

Anne giggled. “Try all the sweets you think possible”, she advised her friend. “Oh, not going to guess, are you?”, Nick smiled amused. “No. I’m getting in too much trouble if I do it again”, Anne confessed. Patience followed Anne’s advice and told the goblin various sweets that came into her mind. “Hang on, what about… cinnamon chewing gum?” The goblin let her pass. Patience shook her head. “Strange thing, to make it so easy to guess passwords”, she muttered. When she knocked at the door of Dumbledore’s office, he called her in immediately. “I waited for you, Patience”, he kindly said and indicated a chair to her. Patience sat down. “I have duelled”, she began but was suddenly lost for words. Dumbledore waited for a few moments until resuming the tale himself. “I have heard of your duel, and I have heard of the spider. In fact, the story of killing the spider you have told me first. What happened at the duel I haven’t found out yet. I have heard various versions, including torturing Vargas, placing him under the Imperius-Curse so that he couldn’t react properly and sending flames at him. Is anything of that the truth?”

Although Dumbledore’s voice betrayed no anger the blue eyes were searching her face very thoroughly and Patience felt scanned to her bones. “We duelled according to the rules, and the first few spells were nothing special. The usual jinxes and hexes. But then, when I had made Vargas roll on the floor with laughter, I felt like making him feel pain.” Patience closed her eyes and went on: “I wanted to see him cringe. But Hengist prevented that. Then Vargas wanted me to lose my hair and I simply put the mirror spell on him.” “Similia Similibus”, Dumbledore said knowingly.

Patience nodded. “And it reacted at first exactly like it had when we practised it. The lights entwined and became one and then I forced the streak of light back to Vargas. Nothing was different so far. But when the hair was gone and the spell should have been over, the light continued to shine and it burnt Vargas! And I couldn’t let go of my wand. It was… oddly satisfying.” “And now you’re thinking of being a bad witch, aren’t you?”, Dumbledore enquired carefully. “Well, Patience, you aren’t. You are a very powerful witch, though, because I only know of few wizards who have managed to control the mirror spell to their particular wishes.” Dumbledore got up and started pacing his office. “I know you gave your wand to Mr Alret. Good idea, but I want you to take it back. Because of having been cruel once you shouldn’t refuse to do magic at all. See, a duel with someone you detest is always a risk. Reason is often overcome by the want of…”

“No, it wasn’t revenge!”, Patience burst out. “Don’t you see? I liked it! I wanted him to be hurt! I even thought of using one of the Unforgivable Curses!” The blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles blinked. “Patience, you won’t feel like that next time you touch your wand. You won’t feel like that because whatever made you feel that way is gone, believe me.” Patience still looked sceptical. “I won’t give you a detention. You are torturing yourself too much to add to your load.” Dumbledore raised his hand. “And if you’re on the verge to say you’d rather do a detention: I know that. Giving you no punishment at all will be worse than giving you loads to do. One thing I insist you should do: Taking back your wand. Practise with your wand for half an hour a day.”

Patience swallowed. “Yes, sir”, she said in a very small voice. Dumbledore gave her a smile. “Go now back to your friends.” Patience did what he told her. Dumbledore stared into the void. “The moon must have affected her”, a voice said from the chamber next to his office. “Yes, Minerva. I wonder what Vargas has done to be recognized as a Dark Wizard already.” “He conjured up the Dark Mark, remember, Albus?”, McGonagall said thoughtfully. Dumbledore shook his head. “That was years ago. It must have been something more recent. I’ll have to ask Severus if he has noticed anything. Poor Patience! She thinks she’s being cruel and she can’t help it!” McGonagall agreed. “She reacts very strongly already on Dark Wizards when the full moon is up, and the increase of her powers is amazing. I doubt she would have been able to control the mirror spell as masterly in her usual state of mind!”

 

Catching Moonbeams in the Dark

“And as a homework you will do the potion on page 11.” Snape announced. Patience looked at the according side and gasped. “This is one of the hardest potions.” She complained. Snape had long been gone so that the girl was quite safe to reveal this. “Let’s see it then.” Hengist replied and grabbed the book to have a closer look. “Yeah, and how should that work?” He asked. Anne didn’t worry too much about the potion. “Then it will be one more we fail. No need for Patience to worry as for Hengist and me we never dreamed of getting extraordinary marks in this subject.” “I wish I could be as relaxed as you, Anne.” Hengist told her. “How do you do that?” “You must concentrate on the really important things in life. For you that will be if there is pasta or potatoes for lunch.” She mocked him.

In the evening the seventh years were discussing how to solve the problem of this potion. Anne learned what it was all about during these discussions. “You cannot add light to anything.” Hengist stated. Patience turned towards Anne. “What do you say?” “Obviously it is possible or else they wouldn’t say so in the recipe.” She stated not being very helpful. “But, you’ve read about light, didn’t you tell us so?” Patience insisted. “What is light exactly?” One of the others having the same problem wanted to know. “Currently there are two theories. One says that light consists of waves. Different colours of light are done by differently shaped waves. And the second theory says that light consists of particles. Both seem to be right in certain situations.”

Of course so much wisdom was ignored. However, Anne started to have her own thoughts on the subject of adding moonlight to a potion. Well, the matter certainly wouldn’t have been that complicated if it hadn’t said ‘a good shot’ and ‘within half a minute’. Her classmates went on discussing the several ways of transport of moonbeams, however, it proved that neither sacks, bags nor boxes were capable of doing the job. Anne didn’t so much see that problem, well, she saw it but not as a problem. She would transfigure her spoon into a reflecting bowl which would bundle the beams and reflect them as one stream of light – a para-bowl, if you like. But how to get the beams into the potion?

She had it almost worked out in her head when she went outside. She was followed by Hengist and Patience more due to the fact that it was after hour than that they really thought she had solved the problem. It was shortly before full moon and neither Anne nor Hengist liked the idea that Patience was outside – then again it was much better to know her to be awake than to have her tell about her strange dreams the next day. Anne transfigured her spoon – as she was a specialist in transforming things – or whatever else was handy – this had been no big task for her. She gazed at the sky for no reason at all since it was quite sure that the moon had still been there otherwise it would have been pitch dark outside. She placed the bowl on the ground. Hengist and Patience watched her wondering if she had gone mad. She hadn’t.

“The moonbeams start on the moon – obviously or else they wouldn’t be moonbeams…” She paused for somehow it seemed she had heard about something which was called moon despite not coming from the moon. “…they travel until they reach our earth where they hit anything you can see at the moment including you, me and this bowl. The shape of the bowl concentrates the beams producing one big beam which goes straight into the air.” Anne pointed her finger at an invisible line going up straight from the bowl into the sky. “But, I don’t see anything. Shouldn’t it be like a sort of flashlight?” Hengist wanted to know. “First no, second, what is a flashlight?” “Never mind.” Hengist replied. “We cannot see the light because it is not hitting anything.” She pulled a little bag out of her pocket. It was filled with a white powder. Anne put some of it on her hand and blew it into the stream of light. For a short moment the white powder lit up before it disappeared. “That was great, what sort of magic was that?” Patience wanted to know and examined the powder. “It’s not magic. It’s physics. And that is simply flour.” She explained. Patience was somewhat disappointed.

“You said all the beams were going up. So how are we going to get them into the potion?” Hengist asked. Anne nodded. “That is exactly the point.” “So, you aren’t cleverer than any of us for you cannot get the beams into the potion either.” Patience remarked dryly. “I didn’t say that.” Anne protested. She got a pocket mirror out of her bag. “The light hits the mirror and will be reflected at the same angle.” She lectured them. “I need to produce an angle which will send the beams parallel to the ground into a second mirror which will send them directly to the ground where we will have placed…” “…our potion!” Patience shouted. “You’re brilliant Anne!” She declared. “Not so fast.” Anne stopped the enthusiasm. “But where is the problem now?” Patience asked. “If we just hold the mirrors they will move and we won’t get the moonbeams.” Hengist yawned. “I think we better go back to bed.” Patience decided and led the way.

The next day everybody seemed to have given up on that idea only Anne could be seen outside – in the pouring rain – constructing something with pieces of wood which she had gotten from Hagrid. The teachers and students wondered what she was up to but nobody wanted to get wet and therefore nobody asked. Anne was wearing a muggle McIntosh and felt quite comfy. If anyone watched her more carefully than the others he or she would have noticed that she measured heights, relations and angles occasionally getting rid of the water which had gathered in her bowl. She wrote down some numbers, then again, what exactly she had written no one would have been able to see leave alone read. It was only when she attached two mirrors to her construction that Patience and Hengist knew what was going on. Snape had an idea of what she was about to do. He wasn’t too happy about it.

Patience and Hengist caught her when she went back to the castle. Her clothes were dripping leaving nice little marks on the floor which would have made Filch go mad had he seen them. “When will we do it?” Patience asked eagerly. “When will you have your potions ready?” Anne replied. They hurried upstairs and brewed the best three potions they had ever done. “But hang on, won’t it be cloudy outside?” Hengist suddenly asked? “No.” Anne replied. “The Ministry of Magic announced a cloudless sky for tonight.” Anne informed them waving a very official looking piece of parchment. “The only thing that we need is the most accurate watch we can get.” She added. It was obvious that it wouldn’t be Anne’s. She didn’t quite see the importance of the concept of time and an accurate watch as long as she knew when she had to be where. Hengist clearly possessed the best watch though this fact didn’t keep him from ignoring it. “That’s settled then.” Patience declared.

“Oh, there’s one other thing…” Anne stopped before they left the common room. “What’s wrong now?” Hengist asked. “We will need a teacher’s permission to be outside after hour.” In saying so she opened the door. “Well, you have it.” Snape replied. Hadn’t he said anything Anne would have run into him. She went pale for a second. “What are you waiting for?” The teacher wanted to know. The students carried their vessels. Snape followed them. He certainly wanted to be a witness of what might just as well have turned out to be Anne’s biggest defeat. Anne pulled the bowl out of her bag and placed it in its assigned spot. To the second mirror she had attached a piece of black parchment which was movable so that the stream of light could be interrupted. “I see you have thought of everything.” Snape remarked and couldn’t help being impressed. The black parchment covered the mirror. Anne was the first to place her vessel with the potion underneath it. Hengist held his watch and checked it. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1.” He counted. Anne moved the parchment and the beam of light hit the potion. They waited for dreadfully long 30 seconds until Hengist said ‘5, 4, 3, 2, 1’ again as a sign that the time was over.

“Looks the same as ever.” She observed and wasn’t sure if she had to be happy or sad about it. Hengist decided to have a go. He believed completely in Anne and the fact that Snape would have already shouted with glee if anything had been wrong. Anne moved the parchment and half a minute of moonbeams streamed into Hengist’s potions and afterwards into Patience’s. Anne’s was the first to turn heavenly blue. “That’s exactly the colour it should have!” Patience jumped with happiness. “We’ll put it into bottles and sell it to our classmates!” Hengist said having forgotten that professor Snape was present or maybe it was just to tease the teacher. Snape got a flask of each potion and walked away. When he had gone Anne posed a question. “What is it good for anyway, the potion I mean?” Patience laughed. “Well, you should definitely check that.” Hengist advised her.

When they had returned to their common room Anne grabbed the first potion’s book she could lay hands on. She grinned. “Well, that is certainly something we shouldn’t throw away.” She put the book back on the table it was still opened. On top of the page could be read: Knowledge Increasing Potions.

 

Choosing a profession

When the final exams (N.E.W.T.s) drew near, the teachers began to ask their students to choose a profession. “You could be working in the various departments of the Ministry of Magic, in one of the shops of the Magical Quarters, as a diplomat in the foreign service, at Gringott’s – the doors are all open to you”, Professor McGonagall told her Gryffindor students and the other Seventh Years. She had asked them to assemble in her classroom this Friday night. All House Teachers were present as well, and next to McGonagall sat Professor Dicket and a Ministry wizard named Barthemius Crouch.

“Professor Dicket will tell you now about possibilities in the muggle world, and Mr Crouch has kindly agreed to inform you about work at the Ministry.” McGonagall sat down and indicated to Emerson Dicket to begin. Emerson rouse and cleared his throat. “I know some of you fairly well”, he began, looking sternly at Banks, Cook and Vargas and beaming at the Malignant Magpies. “And some of you not at all. However, it is very unwise to look for a profession in the muggle world unless you have excelled in Muggle Studies or are related to muggles. Therefore, my information is given to a limited number of you. Hogwarts offers a degree in Advanced Muggle Studies for those who did a normal Master Study at a muggle university. After having finished, you are in possession of your master of arts as well as a certificate that enables you either to work as a muggle specialist for the Ministry or choose a profession in the muggle world without rousing suspicions. This certificate must be earned by writing each semester a library paper about all the facts the students have learned about muggles. At the end of the four years, students are required to write a longer thesis about a topic of muggle life they choose.” Emerson looked around. “Any questions?”

Banks’ hand rose into the air. “Yes Mr Banks.” “What muggle professions are open to students?” “Ah, that’s a good question”, Emerson said. Hengist coughed to mask his laughter. “One good question in five years – that should earn him an award”, Anne whispered to Patience who consequently mistreated her lips not to laugh. Snape stared disapprovingly into their direction. “Well, most students doing Advanced Muggle Studies take courses in languages or social sciences. Therefore the number of jobs is limited. Extremely unlikely and very insecure is the academic way. You can also work for the media, in libraries or archives, in museums or institutions. But you need a good deal of faith in your own abilities to do it. The safer way is the Ministry by far, isn’t it, Mr Crouch?” Emerson turned to Crouch who nodded gravely. “Indeed the Ministry always needs muggle experts. The number of students doing Advanced Muggle Studies is so small we regret losing even one”, he said.

“See? Ah, as you said small: Hogwarts has this year four places to give to students at Christ Church College, Oxford. All other places are still occupied, I’m sorry. Students wishing to apply should contact me”, Emerson said. Then he sat down. “I leave them to you, Mr Crouch!” The Ministry wizard got up. “Work at the Ministry of Magic provides many different fields. Neither is it dull nor is it the last step of your career. Witches and wizards trained in our department of foreign affairs are very well credited in the British Embassies throughout the world. We have a magical sports department and a department for muggle artefacts as well as the department for care of magical creatures. Everything that concerns the wizarding world is represented and you can choose from a wide range of fields. Every young wizard or witch coming to us will go through all departments so that he and we know where he or she is best employed.” Crouch sounded very self-confident and cool. He looked overly correct to many students.

“You do not have to choose tonight which way you want to take, but you have to do it soon”, McGonagall rounded up the evening. When they were walking back to the Common Room, the Gryffindors discussed their possibilities. “I think I shall ask Professor Dicket to put me on his list”, Hengist thoughtfully said. Patience grinned. “I’m with you. Anne?” “Sure. It would be so much fun to go to this muggle university.” Anne smiled evilly. “I just hope it will work. Brian, where do you want to work?” Brian Cullen grinned. “I’d love to go to the department of magical sports. Or maybe I’ll be a professional Quidditch player!” Patience sighed. “That’s what I’ll do when I’m not getting a job after finishing Advanced Muggle Studies or if I don’t get the place: be a professional Quidditch commentator!” “Won’t work, you’re too biased”, Brian’s best friend Mike Flatley stated dryly. Everyone laughed.

Though the next day was a Saturday, it was the day Dicket had his office hours. Saturday morning at 8 a.m. – it was clear he didn’t want students to crowd his room. But this morning a rather long queue had formed in front of his office. When Emerson, wearing a chequered robe in green and brown, looked out to check if any students were there, his eyes widened with horror. This looked nothing like his usual cosy Saturday mornings, with only one or two selected students and a nice cup of tea. “Just a moment, and then I’ll be ready for all of you. One after the other, though”, he called into the corridor.

With a wave of his wand, the professor cleared two chairs in front of his desk and made the papers that had occupied them move to an empty shelf. Even though he was married, neither Holly nor he himself had ever managed to make his hair less untidy nor his grubby nose less red. So Emerson didn’t waste a thought on his outer appearance and opened the door again to call the first student in. The Malignant Magpies were pretty far back in the line. In front of them was a cluster of Ravenclaws. “Excuse me”, Patience asked politely. A boy turned. “Yes?” “Just how long is the queue?”, Patience enquired. The boy tried to count everyone in front of him, gave up, turned to Patience and shrugged. “Very long”, he simply said.

His neighbour laughed. “Sean the mathematician! I mean, I do not know how long the queue is, but what I know is that there are loads of people I’d have never imagined to be here!” Anne laughed heartily. “Including us?”, she asked. “No. Excluding you”, the Ravenclaw grinned. “I’m Jack Straugh, and that’s Sean Biggs, by the way, unless you already know our names as well as we do yours.” “Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have not many subjects together”, Hengist said apologetically. Sean and Jack nodded knowingly. “But you seem to know David pretty well”, Sean remarked slyly. Patience blushed at once. She hated being suspected to be still the object of David’s romantic fantasies. Hengist helped her: “Yes, he’s such a good Quidditch player one cannot help knowing him, can one?” “He isn’t the best player of our year, though”, someone in front of Jack and Sean remarked.

Patience raised her eyebrows. “I don’t think you are right. David is…” “Oh, it’s you. You are biased in favour of Gryffindor as commentator and certainly you are biased in favour of David whenever he’s mentioned”, the girl said. “Patty, this is nonsense!”, Patience stormed. Only Anne’s cool hand on her shoulder prevented any magical reaction. Patty O’Connor of Hufflepuff shrugged haughtily. “Patty, you are only jealous”, the boy next to her, Julian Fairchild, said amused. Then, looking around, he exclaimed: “There are more Ravenclaws than anything else!”

It was true, Patience had to agree. Next to Jack and Sean there were four other Ravenclaws whom she mostly knew only by name. “Hang on! I need to cross off lots of names!”, Patience whispered and to Anne’s amusement did so. “How many are left?”, Anne wanted to know. “Four. It went pretty well. Another thing: Am I mad or is this Roland Banks just entering Dicket’s office?”, Patience asked stunned. She had to grab Anne’s arm in her amazement. Hengist confirmed it. “I wonder why that idiot thinks he’s going to be chosen”, he added. “Maybe he, as all Slytherins, thinks muggles are idiots and so he won’t be something outstanding!”, Anne suggested. Patience burst into laughter. “But it would be fun to see him. He is rubbish at Muggle Studies, he is a Slytherin and thinks muggles inferior – yes, somehow I’d like to see him swaying from one blunder to the next!” “You are mean, Patience Wood”, Hengist said, “and therefore we love you so much!”

The queue was slowly getting smaller. Many came with sad faces out of Dicket’s office. “He asks so many questions”, Sean Biggs sighed when he came out. “I don’t think I can go to Oxford!” Now it would have been Hengist’s turn, but seeing Anne and Patience next to their friend, Dicket grinned. “For you I make an exception. You are never to be divided, I think, and so – come in, Malignant Magpies!” Students laughed and Patience blushed. It was rather flattering that the teachers had taken pains to remember their chosen name. It was a certain kind of fame!

Dicket doubled one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Cool!”, Anne said impressed. “Thanks. Sit down, please. So you three want to be the terror of Christ Church College”, Emerson started, folding his hands over his stomach, leaning back in his chair behind the desk. “We want to be muggle experts”, Patience corrected him. Dicket chuckled. “One of you is already, aren’t you, Alret?” Hengist grinned lopsidedly. “I can’t help it, sir, my parents are muggles”, he answered. Dicket nodded approvingly. “I already told you, Miss Wood, that I would like to see you doing Advanced Muggle Studies. And as neither you nor your friends will stand a minute without the other it would be very cruel to separate you”, Dicket grinned. He twinkled merrily.

“You already chose us?”, Anne wanted to know. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Right. I chose you three from the beginning. But the fourth candidate had to be chosen today.” Emerson looked perfectly calm. “Does it always go that way?”, Patience asked suspiciously. “Sure. The teachers sit together and exchange their knowledge about the students and I claimed you for my little project. Mr Alret is the best expert we can have and moreover will be able to help you get along in the first months. Muggle life can be quite tricky, and you will be strictly forbidden to do magic.” Patience and Anne exchanged a glance. Four years without doing magic! How could anyone survive without magic?

“Don’t look so sad. Miss Wood’s father can help you as well, for he works in the muggle world. He wasn’t a participant of this project, was he?” “No”, Patience replied. “He studied on his own as far as I know, but that was also the time He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named came to power, so maybe that’s why there was no project to take part in.” Emerson nodded gravely. “True. I came to Hogwarts only after the terror ended. Relations between the magic folk and muggles had been pretty icy before. However, they are not now. Miss Symmons will be of infinite worth to you with her sense for the practical things of life.” Anne looked thoroughly surprised. She had never thought of herself to have a sense for the practical.

“Good. You are to keep house with a muggle. That will be arranged by the school and the college. The other student can’t be with you, I fear.” Dicket looked each of the Malignant Magpies straight into the eyes. “Why? It can’t be so bad”, Hengist said, his voice wavering a little. “I fear it can. Your fourth man will be Roland Banks of Slytherin.” It made the three Gryffindors speechless. Leaving school but not one of their worst enemies was a dreadful prospect. “I thought so”, Dicket grumbled. “Why him?” Patience finally had mustered speech again. “Because… I mean, can you imagine him anywhere at all? We, that is, the House Teachers and me, agreed on giving him another four years to be tried and find a way of his own.” “Can’t he find that way in the desert digging gold for Gringott’s?”, Anne asked desperately.

“Nice suggestion. No, Miss Symmons, he can’t. But he will be far away from all of you as far as possible. He won’t live near you and we shall give him different courses – some at least.” Dicket got up. “And now have a nice day. Anything that has to be done will be done, and whatever happens – you’ll be informed. Good bye!” The three thanked him and left the office. “We’re going to Oxford together!”, Patience exclaimed suddenly and jumped into the air. Hengist and Anne laughed, breaking the gloom about the vicinity of Roland Banks.

 Their talk in the next few days consisted of Oxford mainly. “So we’re at Oxford, and Banks is there, too. I wonder where Cook and Vargas go”, Hengist said thoughtfully. “Not to Oxford”, Patience stated grimly. “No. Maybe to visit Banks or the next time places are available, but not now”, Anne said, shuddering. “I don’t think it likely they will study muggle life”, Patience consoled her friend. “Me neither. Why don’t we ask them?”, Hengist suggested. The girls stared at him. “Ask them? Are you nuts?”, Anne asked, carefully checking if Hengist had fever.

He pushed her hand from his forehead impatiently. “C’mon Anne, we have to talk to Banks. Who knows what ideas came to him thinking about Oxford.” Patience grinned. “Ideas? Think? Remember his brain is located outside his body!” They all laughed. “You know, I pity him a bit. He’s all alone, facing us three, and his brain is nowhere near”, Patience said. Anne snorted. “Tell that to the marines!” They had been walking through the cloister while talking. It wasn’t exactly a beautiful day. It was misty and cool, and to eyes not used to the stone pillars, dragon heads and tombstone-like ornaments it was a pretty scary place. To the Malignant Magpies it was their beloved Hogwarts, and even in sunshine they didn’t like it better than in this weather which increased the mystery of the venerable castle. “It’s a bit creepy”, a voice behind them said. “Oh, please, Oliver”, Patience started to reproach her younger brother, but he cut in: “The Slytherins in the fog, I mean.” He pointed to the Slytherin trio standing between a big dragon head and a chiselled pillar.

“Right you are”, Hengist grinned. “Ladies, this is our opportunity.” Anne grimaced, but her curiosity won over her animosity. “Banks, a word with you”, Hengist demanded. He had straightened his robes so that his Prefect badge was clearly visible. “What do you want?” Banks’ tone was instantly defiant. “Just talk about Oxford”, Hengist smiled pleasantly. When Patience saw Vargas giving Banks a small nod it was hard not to laugh. Good Banks had only at weekends and in the holidays to decide what to wear… Most probably he would send owls to Vargas then.

Anyway, the awkward boy came towards them, striving desperately to show the same amount of arrogance Vargas naturally had. “Don’t worry”, Hengist said, “we’re not going to jinx you today.” “No”, Patience agreed, “not today.” Anne grinned evilly. Banks went pale. “You’re going to Oxford?”, Hengist enquired. Banks nodded. “Professor Dicket obviously thought me especially qualified to do Advanced Muggle Studies.” Anne and Patience exchanged a glance. “We’re going, too”, Anne announced. “You three?” Banks asked in horror. “But there are only four places, Dicket said!” “Right you are. We’re not happy about this arrangement as well. Did you think of where you’re going to live?” This practical question of Patience made Banks swallow. “No with you”, he blurted out in panic. “No certainly not. And what about your two friends?”, Anne enquired slyly. Banks shook his head. “They are both doing something else, I think.” “You think! You don’t know?” Patience was surprised. She was sure that, no matter what it was, she would be informed about her friends’ plans.

Banks shrugged. “I know Cook doesn’t want to go either to a university or to the Ministry. He talked about going to Gringott’s.” “I’ll withdraw my money immediately”, Hengist muttered. Anne’s lips curled slightly. “And Vargas?” “Oh, what he’s going to do sounds fascinating. He’s going to the USA to study crypto-zoology. Then he wants to work in the Care of Magical Creatures-department of the Ministry.” Banks saw with pleasure the amazement spread over the faces of the Malignant Magpies. “Isn’t crypto-zoology the muggle word for Care of Magical Creatures?”, Anne wanted to know. “It is. The muggles doing it are considered to be weirdoes. They look for sea monsters, yetis and other beasts known to muggles only by fairy tales or fantasy.” “Yes, but some are considered to have died out”, Banks added, happy to be able to contribute something to Patience’s explanation. “Aha”, Hengist grinned.

“You should know, mudblood”, snarled Vargas suddenly. He had sneaked up to them unseen. “I have read books about these as a child”, Hengist calmly answered. He ignored the insult. But Patience and Anne did not. Suddenly Vargas found two wands pointed threateningly at him. He shrunk back. He knew that both girls were perfectly able to do severe damage. “Apologize!”, Patience commanded sternly. “Er… for what?” Vargas’ tiny rest of what he thought to be heroism was misappropriate that time and pitifully weak. “Apologize”, Patience repeated.

She saw Anne slowly lowering her wand. She frowned. Was Anne about to let him get off with it? “I warn you, when I’ve asked you for the third time and you still refuse to answer, I’ll jinx you!”, Patience threatened. “Miss Wood!”, someone called furiously. It was Professor McGonagall. Patience didn’t turn or lower her wand. “Professor, Vargas insulted Hengist. He called him mudblood”, she explained. As she had foreseen, the wrath of the professor turned to Vargas. “Put away your wand”, McGonagall ordered. Patience obeyed instantly. “Vargas, I will have to talk to Professor Snape about that!” Then  McGonagall told the Slytherins to go. “You should have informed a teacher at once, not try to punish him yourself”, she then told Patience. “I know, but it always feels so shabby running to a teacher to re-tell what someone else did”, Patience sighed. McGonagall’s face relaxed a bit. “I see. Don’t do it again.” And she nodded to the Malignant Magpies and left. “Imagine that had been Snape!”, Anne whispered.

Are You Game?

Under the huge willows on the border of the lake students sat or lay, talking, dreaming, the occasional one even learning. An air of great tranquillity lay over Hogwarts and its surroundings, as befitted a glorious sunny mid-September Friday. “The water looks like velvet,” Hengist remarked. He was lying on his back, his head resting on his crossed arms. “Or like satin, slightly rippled by the wind,” Anne added. Hengist craned his neck to look at her, who was sitting with her back against a willow trunk. “Do you think it feels like that, too?” he asked. “No idea. I’ve never been in the lake,” Anne replied. Steps crunching over the gravel came closer.

“Hi,” Patience greeted her friends and sat down on a huge boulder. “You took a lot of time to come out,” Anne observed. “True. Oliver asked me to help choosing the new commentator,” Patience answered. “What, are you quitting?” Hengist asked surprised. “We all are by the end of the year, Hengist,” Patience gently reminded him. “Oh. Yes. I forgot.” Hengist muttered. Slowly he sat up. “I’m going to miss this.” “So will I,” Anne agreed. Patience just nodded.

“And we still don’t know what the water is like,” Hengist thought aloud. “Wet and cool?” Patience suggested. “Don’t say you’ve been in the lake,” Anne said at once. “Course not. Why should I?” Patience retorted with a laugh. “Hum. Next weekend there’s going to be a full moon. Wouldn’t it be something to remember, to go swimming in the moonlight?” Hengist wanted to know.

“Quite romantic, Miss Alret, and who’ll you take with you?” a cheerful voice asked. “Ah, Brian, that’s easy – his rubber ducky,” Mike added. “Hi there. We couldn’t help eavesdropping,” Brian grinned and hoisted himself onto the boulder next to Patience. “Hi. Would you swim in the lake?” she asked him. “Depends,” Brian replied. “Depends on what?”

“Are you in the water? And, even more interesting, do you fancy swimming nude?” Brian asked with a mischievous grin. Predictably, Patience shrieked: “Oh, Cullen!” and jumped off the boulder. The others laughed.

“But, seriously, I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea to go swimming in that lake,” Brian said. “I mean, there’s the giant squid to consider.” “Not to mention the giant squib and his fury when we drip water from the entrance hall up to Gryffindor,” Mike added and grimaced. “Yes, and Miss Balloon reckons there are kelpies and grindylows and merpeople in there,” Anne reminded the others. They watched the smooth glittering surface of the lake in silence for a few minutes. “Do you think the horror stories are true?” Patience voiced their thoughts. “We’ll never find out if we don’t try,” Hengist said firmly. He looked at the others. “I’ll go swimming next Friday night. Are you game?”

It was not easy to hide their excitement when Friday arrived. The weather was in their favour: it was still warm like summer, and the moon would be bright in a cloudless sky. But there were still hours to go until they could sneak out. Under a pretence Anne had borrowed the Marauders’ Map from Fred and George Weasley – that would surely be helpful. But what to do until the others were in bed? “Miss Alret, Friday, or any weekend day, was a very bad idea,” Brian muttered angrily. “You can always go to bed instead, Cullen,” Patience hissed. “Slow down, Wood, my sweet, I’m yearning to see your bikini,” Brian retorted unimpressed. Patience was fuming. “I’ll jinx you in the water,” she threatened. “Where exactly do you put your wand while swimming?” Brian asked with considerable interest. “Oh, you!” Patience gasped.

Anne intervened. “Peace, or the others will get suspicious. Let’s play some Exploding Snap,” she suggested. At least Exploding Snap was a rather loud game that would hide their excitement. So the five conspirators played round after round until only Fred and George Weasley were still up. “Do something,” Patience told Hengist. “Me?” Hengist asked astonished. “You – are – a – prefect,” Patience said, stressing every word. “Oh. Right,” Hengist said and got up. “Oy, you, Weasleys,” he began. Fred and George turned. “Yes?” Fred asked. “You’d better go to bed now. It’s late, and you’re too young to stay up that long,” Hengist said sternly. His authority got a serious injury when the twins only laughed.

“We know you plan something,” George revealed. “Yeah, and we’d like to have the Common Room to ourselves for a while,” Fred added mysteriously. Hengist’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do anything illegal,” he warned. “Never,” the twins replied in one voice. Hengist of course did not believe them. Nevertheless he walked back to the others. “Let’s go. They won’t report us anyway,” he told them. Taking out their well-hidden packs of towels, Brian, Mike and the Malignant Magpies climbed out of the portrait hole.

 

Thanks to the Marauders’ Map they reached the border of the lake without meeting anyone. Once Anne had shoved them into an empty classroom until the heavy steps of Hagrid faded away, but that had been the closest to detection. Now, at the lake, the whole scenery seemed to be painted in the silvery white of moonlight. “It looks different somehow,” Patience remarked. Something in that cool white light made her skin prickle. “Ah, we’ll get used to it,” Mike lightly said and took off his robes. Like his friends, he was already wearing swimming trunks. To Brian’s disappointment neither of the girls was wearing a bikini. Still, Brian thought they looked very well – Anne in a burgundy red suit that set off her dark hair fabulously, Patience in green.

Hengist took a deep breath. “Let’s see what the water is like.” Nobody seemed to want to be the first. Giggling, the five students pushed each other towards the unperturbed black water. So it was actually Anne whose feet came into contact with the water first. “It’s warm,” she said surprised. Carefully Patience put her toes into the water and laughed. “Yes, it is okay. I thought it would be freezing.” “Freezing! Wood, just use your brains. We had a hot summer, so of course the water is warm,” Brian scoffed. His remark brought him the questionable honour of being pushed into the water. He stumbled over a pebble and splashed noisily into the lake. The others burst into laughter. For a second Patience turned, but the castle was far away enough and there were no lights to be seen. So it was safe to indulge in the laughing and splashing.

While the five students enjoyed themselves immensely, none of them saw the slight rippling of the surface in the distance. Most probably they would have thought it the result of a breeze had they seen it. “Now where are the Kelpies?” Anne asked. Mike took a deep breath and dived. “Not here, definitely,” he informed the others when he was above water again. “And merpeople?” Patience wanted to know. In secret she would love to see one of the fabled creatures. “I guess we’re neither deep enough nor far enough into the lake for them,” Hengist answered. Then he pointed to a rock a short distance away. “Let’s go there, and I’ll tell you the story of the little mermaid,” he suggested.

“Yes, why not? Let’s see who’s first,” Brian called and started to swim. Mike and Hengist followed quickly, while Patience and Anne wisely took their time. They were still in shallow waters when Brian suddenly disappeared. “You cheat!” Mike roared. He and Hengist swam on, but when they reached the rock, Brian had not appeared. “Girls!” Hengist shouted and waved. “Is Brian with you?” “No,” Anne called back. Something bit her painfully into her leg and she yelled. When she bent down to see what had attacked her, she saw them: The water was aswarm with Grindylows. The water demons gritted their teeth and seemed to want to attack. “Do you think they’ve got Brian?” Patience asked alarmed. “No idea, back to the shore and quick!” Anne ordered.

The girls ran back over pebbles and stones until they were safe. However, their legs were bloody in places. “Wand, where is my wand?” Anne muttered and rummaged in the pile of towels and robes. “We’ve got to help Brian,” Patience moaned, dancing from one foot to the other. There were goose bumps all over her skin, and the moonlight made her look quite ghost-like. “Fetch Hagrid, and quick,” Anne decided. “And you?” Patience enquired. “I’ll go back into the water,” Anne said grimly, straightened her shoulders and marched back.

Patience hesitated for a second, but when she saw Anne stupefying Grindylows by the dozen, she dashed off. She paid no heed to the fact that she was running barefoot. Brian needed help.

It seemed like ages, but actually it took only a few minutes for Patience to reach Hagrid’s hut. Breathlessly she knocked at the door, again and again. Her knuckles went red before Fang began to howl inside. Noises told Patience that Hagrid was finally awake, too. He opened the door. “Hagrid, we need your help!” Patience called. Hagrid stared sleepily down at her. “Yer should be in bed,” he muttered. “No time, Hagrid, come with me, now,” Patience begged and tugged Hagrid’s arm.

“Gimme a mo,” the gamekeeper grunted and stepped back inside, closing the door again. “No,” Patience groaned and resumed her banging. “Brian is in danger!” she shouted. “Is he?” a voice asked from behind her. Patience nearly keeled over in her shock to face Professor Dumbledore. “We were swimming in the lake, and Brian disappeared, and there were Grindylows – we have no time!” she wailed and burst into tears. Dumbledore eyed her for a moment, then he called: “Hagrid, take your crossbow and follow us to the lake.” Then he patted Patience’s shoulder. “We will see to it. Show me where he disappeared.”

Although Patience would have liked to run back to the lake she restrained herself. Nevertheless she and Dumbledore proceeded very fast. “The boys wanted to see who would be first at that rock,” she explained when they were in view of the lake. “Yes. I see,” Dumbledore replied. Obviously Mike and Hengist were still sitting on the rock. Anne was blasting away Grindylows at great speed, but there were so many of them she was fighting a losing battle.

“Brian was midway between the shore and the rock,” Patience said. “Oh, please, sir, help him!” Dumbledore said nothing. He knelt down at the shore and put his head into the water. Anne, seeing this, stopped stupefying her adversaries for a moment – and was promptly bitten. Patience stared in surprise. What was the headmaster doing? When Dumbledore raised his head again, his hair and beard were dripping. He took off his half-moon glasses and carefully wiped them dry on his sleeve. “Now we have to wait,” he announced, got up, and walked to the boulders at the border where he settled down. “Miss Symmons, come and join us!” he called.

Anne obeyed. “What did he do there?” she whispered when she reached Patience. But her friend shrugged. “No idea. He said we must wait now.” Slowly the two girls walked to Dumbledore. They had barely reached the boulder when Hagrid appeared, carrying his huge crossbow. “Ah, Hagrid. Please watch the lake,” Dumbledore said calmly. Hagrid nodded grimly and stationed himself at the shore, crossbow at the ready. “What is going to happen now?” Anne asked. “We are waiting, Miss Symmons,” Dumbledore replied. “Yes. For what?” Anne persisted. Dumbledore sighed. ”For the moment Brian Cullen appears again and Mike Flatley and Hengist Alret can safely return to the shore.” He did not seem inclined to give any further information.

They waited in silence, anxiously scanning the surface of the lake. Suddenly two long tentacles reached out for Mike and Hengist. Patience screamed, Anne gasped, and Dumbledore said: “Steady, Hagrid.” The arms, those of the giant squid, no doubt, held the two boys firmly and placed them gently onto the shore. “Welcome back,” Dumbledore smiled. “What was that?” Mike asked. “The squid. You owe it a favour now,” the headmaster replied. “Where is Brian?” Hengist enquired. “Not here yet, but I doubt it will take long. Go and dry yourselves,” Dumbledore said. “Did you tell the squid to rescue them?” Patience wanted to know. “No, my dear, I do not have that power,” Dumbledore chuckled.

Patience frowned. “But surely somebody told it…” she began, when Anne said in a strange voice: “Look!” In the shallow waters heads appeared, then bodies. Hands holding spears, heads looking as if a mass of algae was growing on them. One of the strange creatures waved imperiously at Dumbledore who got up and went to the shore. The two began to converse in strange disharmonic screeching sounds. All the while Hagrid acted like Dumbledore’s bodyguard. None of the students dared to move or speak. They just watched the scary scene. Finally Dumbledore nodded, then shook hands with the eerie creature. He returned to the others, while Hagrid kept up his threatening pose.

“Brian will be back soon,” the headmaster informed the students. “Were that… were that… merpeople?” Hengist asked shakily. Dumbledore nodded. “Yes. The merchieftainness has promised that they will return Brian.” “Return him?” Anne asked alarmed. “In full moon nights merpeople sometimes take nosy humans as hostages,” Dumbledore explained. “Oh my god,” Patience breathed.

It took only a few minutes longer until the merpeople appeared again. They were carrying Brian, who looked very pale in the silvery light. Dumbledore said something unintelligible to the merpeople who bowed and returned into the lake after having lowered Brian to the ground. Brian’s eyes were closed, but he was breathing deeply, almost as if he was asleep. Dumbledore bent over him and lightly touched the boy’s eyes and chest with his wand.

With a groan and a splutter as water rose in his throat, Brian became conscious again. “What happened?” he asked bemused. “You tell me,” Mike replied with a brittle laugh. “No, not now,” Dumbledore intervened. “Take your things and follow me. Hagrid.”

Hagrid and the students did what they were told. Nobody spoke on their way to the castle and up to Dumbledore’s office. In a matter of seconds, Dumbledore conjured up enough chairs for everyone. “Hagrid, would you please call Madam Pomfrey,” the headmaster asked. “Sit down,” he added and waited until the students had sat down. Then he himself took his seat behind his desk. He smiled when he looked at the five pale figures in front of him. “Don’t worry about punishment. I think you had to endure enough to show you that a moonlight swim is not a good idea.” The tension eased considerably. Dumbledore chuckled. “I hope Poppy will arrive soon. Ah, there she is.” Madam Pomfrey was carrying a tray with seven steaming mugs.

“You read my mind, Poppy. Those five suffered a severe shock,” Dumbledore told the nurse who handed out her famous hot chocolate. “Nothing that can’t be cured,” Madam Pomfrey said briskly. “Are there any injuries?” “Yes, Miss Symmons has been attacked by grindylows, and have a look at Miss Wood’s feet, please.” Madam Pomfrey examined Anne’s legs and nodded. “Some essence of murtlap and a bit of camomile, then it’s fine again.” She smiled at Anne. “Grindylows are nasty, aren’t they?” Anne was too tired to answer with more than a nod. “Well, then…” Madam Pomfrey bent down to have a look at Patience’s feet. “Goodness, what have you done?” she asked surprised.

Only when she saw the expression on the nurse’s face did Patience feel the pain. She had not realized that her feet were cut and torn and rather bloody. “Oh, I… I ran for help,” she explained. “Ah yes. You will run nowhere tonight, Miss Wood. Hagrid will take you to a nice cosy bed in the Hospital Wing. I’ll come, too, when I’ve given the young gentlemen a once-over. Oh, and Miss Symmons – you’re to follow Hagrid.” The energetic Madam Pomfrey bustled over to the boys to see to them. Although Brian had swallowed a lot of water he protested he felt fine – but the nurse told him to shut up and come to the Hospital Wing as well. Hengist and Mike were allowed to return to Gryffindor.

“Before you leave,” Dumbledore said, a kind smile on his face, “just one more word to your little excursion. Promise me you won’t boast about any part of it, but especially not about meeting the merpeople. Mr Cullen, you said you can’t remember anything, but I still have to perform a partial mind-wipe. I promised the merchieftainness so. You must not give away their whereabouts.” Dumbledore looked sternly at Brian who nodded sleepily. “And you should not inspire other students to follow your example. Go now, and sleep well after your adventure.”

Dumbledore saw them out, then returned to his desk. What a lucky coincidence he had been taking a night-time stroll himself. But then… There had been little danger to Brian, as the merchieftainness had said. If Patience had just called upon the moon for help, it would have sufficed. But how could she have known, when she still did not know who she was? Dumbledore sighed. Perhaps he should tell her soon. Or perhaps not. 

Going to a Ball

“Can I have a word with you?”, David Bantam asked Patience when they both were on the way to their next class. The final exams were about to begin the next week and Patience had her nose buried in a Potions book. “Sure”, she said distractedly. “Have you been listening?”, David asked amused. “Sure”, was the immediate answer. David grinned. “Hengist, can you remind her she told me we could talk? See you at lunch, then!” Hengist gave David the thumbs-up.

“You’re a bit preoccupied, dear”, Hengist said mildly indignant. “What?”, Patience asked puzzled. “You already know each and every potion by heart we have ever brewed – how to do it correctly and how you turn it poisonous and back again”, Hengist sighed. “David Bantam wanted to talk to you. And as I have just managed to get you free: Will you accompany me to the Ball?” Patience beamed at him. “Of course I will! I’m delighted. Hengist, you’re wonderful!” And she hugged him and looked deeply satisfied. “Just one thing: Don’t misunderstand me”, Hengist promptly warned. Patience giggled. “No. I’m not going to fall in love with you again. I’m not insane, just a bit silly sometimes!”

Anne, having been in the Great Hall still, chatting with Fred and George, came hurrying towards them. “You’ve made the Bantam-fan-club mad again this morning, Patience”, she laughed. “Oh, really? I never even think of him if I don’t see him”, Patience confessed. Anne sighed. “I’d give my life to make him see me”, she said dreamily. Hengist and Patience stared at her. “That’s a joke!”, Anne told them grinning. “I mean, why would I join these silly giggling chicks?” “Still, maybe there’s a bit of earnest in it as well. I mean, just a very tiny little bit?”, Hengist teased Anne. “Hengist, will you go to the ball with me?”, Anne changed topics. Hengist looked at Patience. “You tell her”, he decided.

Patience burst into laughter. “He’s just asked me. But I guess David wanted to ask something like that as well. Unless he wanted to bribe me to comment for Ravenclaw next Quidditch match.” Anne pulled a face, but it was difficult to do so when she had to laugh so much. “You know that the next match neither you nor David are still in this school?”

 Patience’s guess had been right: David Bantam wanted to ask her to accompany him for the ball. He came to her after lunch, smiling nervously. “Can we go outside?” “Sure we can”, Patience answered. She turned around leaving the Hall and smiled at Hengist and Anne. What a strange thing! What Patience hadn’t noticed was the very strange look on Snape’s face. “Look at the son of a bat”, Anne hissed. Hengist looked up from his book. “Uh-oh, seems there’s danger in the air. Do you think he’s up to proving David a dark child as well as Greg Nott?” “No. David is as little dark as you are”, Anne giggled. “I think it annoys him if any boy has more luck than he had. I mean – look at him! How will he ever attract any woman that is not mad?” Hengist shot her a shrewd look and muttered something that sounded very much like “So you are mad, my dear.” Anne chose to be temporarily deaf.

Meanwhile David had stammered his invitation. Suddenly Patience felt pity for him. He was the one boy every girl in the year would die for to go to the ball with – and she was about to reject him. “David, please, don’t be offended”, she began. “I really like you and I would go to the ball with you – but Hengist has already asked me and I said yes.” David stared at her. “But you do know that Hengist is not… well, you know?” Patience nodded, hiding a grin. “Nevertheless he’s my best friend.” “But I don’t want to ask any of these chicks around here”, David grumbled. Patience stifled a giggle quickly. “Well, they must be annoying, staring at you and talking about you. But there’s still someone else who is not like that”, she boldly hinted. “Anne”, David said, colouring very slightly. Patience frowned. What was that? Had she missed something crucial? “You do like her, don’t you?”, she ventured farther. David nodded, looking at his feet. “Then why do you ask me and not her?” Patience again wondered about the stupidity of boys. Could this be true?

“Because I only like her”, David pointed out. “To you I wrote a poem!” Patience blushed fiercely. “Yes”, she whispered, feeling cruel and totally embarrassed. “Now what is that?”, a snarl came from behind them. Never had Patience been so glad to see Professor Severus Snape. “Nothing, we were just talking”, David told the teacher. But as they were standing rather close together and Patience still looked hot and uncomfortable, Snape drew his own conclusions. “I think, Miss Wood, you go in. Mr Bantam, why are you molesting her?” This was so ridiculous Patience stopped on the stairs. “Sir, he was not molesting me. He asked me to the ball and I refused”, she explained.

Snape looked embarrassed for the split of a second. “You shouldn’t be out now. Don’t you have lessons this afternoon?” Patience decided it would be wiser to run upstairs and fetch her books. David stayed behind – because Snape was still eyeing him like an eagle would a canine. “Can I go as well?”, he finally asked. Snape stepped aside. His face was dark as could be, but he didn’t say a word.

Now David had to simply ask Anne to accompany him to the ball. If that had been so easy… He had hoped that Patience had told Anne that he would ask her but she hadn’t. “Anne, could I have a word with you?” He asked shyly and again under the all-observing eyes of Snape but again he didn’t know. Both had been on their way to the Great Hall for dinner. Anne looked rather surprised. “Sure, David.” She replied frowning suspiciously. “I wonder if you accompanied me to the ball.” He finally burst out. Before Anne could say anything Snape intervened. “Now you’re trying the best friend, since Miss Wood has turned you down.” David blushed and looked apologetically at Anne.

But she was busy shooting angry looks at Snape who simply could resist to intrude other people’s lives. “Don’t you think I know.” She spat. Now it was time for the men to be surprised. Well, Patience had guessed he would ask her and Anne knew that. She didn’t care too much. Her heart belonged to Charlie and only Charlie, so it didn’t matter with whom she went to the ball. Maybe she would have turned him down out of pride, which had been very unlike her, but since Snape seemed to dislike the idea of them going out together she loved it all of an sudden and couldn’t think of anything better. “David, of course, I’ll accompany you, I am very happy to be asked.” Anne smiled at him.

David was very happy. He returned the smile. David had had enough of Snape and thought of an excuse to leave. “So, Miss Symmons is very happy to be second choice, fair enough since you weren’t first choice.” Snape argued. “The first choice isn’t always the best.” Anne replied coolly. “And neither is the second.” Snape retorted. Anne felt the anger rising in her body. “Leave her alone, will you, just because you don’t like her that doesn’t mean that she is a wonderful girl.” David defended her. “And that’s why you asked ordinary Miss Wood first. Mr Bantam?” Snape asked. David couldn’t deny the fact that he had asked Patience first. “You better have your dinner now, Mr Bantam.” Snape seemed to have enough of him as well. David gave Anne one last smile and disappeared.

“I’ll be glad not to see you again!” Anne snapped and turned to leave. “I haven’t finished yet, Miss Symmons.” Snape called after her. She turned. He approached her again. It seemed that he wanted to say something but he didn’t he just looked at her. He would have liked to tell her that she had deserved better than to be asked second but of course he didn’t. “You may go now, Miss Symmons.” He finally said. Anne turned and left.

 

A Students’ Guide to Hogwarts

In the week after the N.E.W.T.s it was really hot weather . even for Hogwarts. The Seventh Years, free of all worries, enjoyed their time outside. “We’re not going to come back after the summer holidays,” Patience said suddenly. She was lying in the grass, her eyes closed. Anne and Hengist looked at each other. “You are right – so what?” Hengist enquired. “Once we have left, we have no chance to, well, spread our wisdom,” Patience explained and sat up. “Wisdom?” Anne snorted. “Knowledge, then,” Patience conceded. “I think I see the point – Magpie knowledge!” Hengist laughed. “Exactly what I mean. The famous Marauders left their map – we leave nothing behind,” Patience said. Anne frowned. “We have Hogwarts – A History. It’s going to provide us with eternal fame.”

“Nut it’s boring to most students, Anne.” “We have Fred, George and Lee,” Hengist grinned. Patience snorted. “Yes. And once they’ve left, there’ll be no Magpie-Memorial.” “You’re really going a bit far there . We’re not dying,” Anne protested. Patience took a deep breath. “What about leaving a guideline?” “Another map? Not very inventive,” Hengist criticized. “Oh, honestly! Not a map, a guideline! Which teacher has a weak spot for sweets, which steps to take care of, things of that kind,” Patience explained with an edge of impatience in her voice. “Sounds okay,” Hengist said, sounding not very enthusiastic about it. “If you don’t want to, fine, “Patience snapped and rushed off back to the castle. Anne and Hengist stared after her. “Too much sun,” Anne decided and leaned back to enjoy the warmth herself.

Patience meanwhile stormed upstairs to Gryffindor Tower. “Finis felix,” she hissed at the Fat Lady who eyed her shrewdly. “Whatever you’re up to, don’t do it,” the portrait advised the girl. “Oh, what do you know?” Patience asked sharply. “I happen to know that some teachers are extremely bad-tempered today,” the Fat Lady revealed. Patience’s eyes narrowed. “That’s good to know. Thanks for the warning,” she said much friendlier. “You’re welcome – as always,” the Fat Lady answered and smiled. “Would you do this for any studentß” Patience wanted to know. “For all Gryffindor students, yes. But I’m sure,” she added, “the other pictures can be of help.” Patience nodded. “Can I go in now?” she asked. The portrait swung aside and Patience climbed into the Common Room.

Predictably no-one was there. ”Accio my parchment and my quill and my bottle of translucent ink,” she said and waved her wand. Parchment, quill and ink came soaring towards her. Patience caught them. “You should have been Seeker,” said a voice from behind her. Patience jumped. “Why have you been hiding here?” she asked perplexed. “We were planning something,” Fred Weasley shrugged. “And you?” George asked. Patience grinned. “I’m also planning something. Come to think of t – you might be able to help me.” “Always at your service,” George said and bowed.

They sat down at a table and Patience told the twins of her plan. The boys exchanged a look. “Sounds great!” Fred said. “What if you … hm… spread the information?” George suggested. Patience frowned. “What do you mean?” “Well, you could place a piece on the notice board, a bit in a library book, a bit in the Daily Prophet… things like that,” George explained. “Yeah, and the first bit is the announcement,” Fred added. Patience laughed. “That’s waycool! Alright, let’s get working.”

In the evening, Hengist and Anne were rather anxious if Patience was still angry. So they were very surprised to find he in a splendid mood. “Did you give up on your plan?” Anne asked cautiously. Patience smiled. “Just you wait.” Hengist felt as if this was a case for a prefect to intervene. “You’re not doing anything against the rules, are you?” he enquired. Patience patted his hand soothingly. “I’m not going to get myself expelled right after my final exams!” 

The next morning brought a surprise to almost everyone who entered the Great Hall. A huge banner was floating above the teachers’ table. Dumbledore seemed delighted to see it, but he was about the only one. Hengist closed his eyes in horror seeing it, imagining himself and his friends being expelled in deepest disgrace. The banner read For all students – a guide to teachers and other traps over which tripping might be painful! Look for the information EVERYWHERE! The last word was flashing in many colours. Anne gaped at the banner. “That’s just not true,” she said flabbergasted. “Of course it is true,” Patience said grinning and helped herself to a toast.

“Give us a clue,” Brian said. Patience shook her head. “I won’t spoil it. If you find something – perfect. If not, keep looking.” “How will the others get to know?” Catherine asked. “One a piece of information has been found, every students will find it in their bed. There’s also a timeline. The night before we all leave, everyone will have the complete guide,” Patience explained. “Super,” Lee told her. “That was Fred and George’s idea,” she said honestly. The twins nodded proudly. “The last Magpie prank – without us!” Anne complained. “You still have a chance,” Patience revealed. Hengist and Anne leaned forward. “If you hide some, that would be a great help,” she said. “Sure,” Hengist said at once. “Good. We need some in Hogsmeade, and my record’s not clean enough,” Patience stated smugly.

Hengist swallowed. “Alright,” he grudgingly agreed. “Anne, you can hide some in the castle,” Fred suggested. “Yes, but not in the library, I’ll do that,” Patience hurriedly threw in. “We should start now.” “We have lessons now,” Hengist reminded her. Patience nodded. “You’ll see.”

The saw indeed. The first lesson, Care of Magical Creatures, passed without incident. They had Muggle Studies next, but Professor Dicket seemed reluctant to teach. “I could go through the exam questions,” he said, “but I don’t see the point in that. Some of you will do Advanced Muggle Studies. Mr Banks, Mr Alret, Miss Symmons and Ms Wood, you may go, we shall meet tonight to talk about some things.” Dicket nodded at the four who packed their bags hurriedly before the professor could change his mind.

“You knew!” Hengist said, grabbing Patience’s arm to turn her around. “Of course. I asked Professor Dicket lat night. He said he would help me, and he is definitely a man who is always true to his word!” Patience looked at her watch. “However, we have not much time. Hengist, off to Hogsmeade. Professor Flitwick already knows we won’t be in Charms, so don’t worry. But… we’ve got Potions next, so if you’re late report sick. Anne, good luck!” With a wave to her friends Patience dashed off to the library. Hengist ran to the statue of the humpbacked witch to get into the cellar of Honeyduke’s and from there everywhere else. Anne ran to the Owlery, the Astronomy Tower and various other spots.

Patience was frantically rushing through books, under the suspicious stares of Madam Pince. “Fair lady, what art thou doing?” Joscelin the Minstrel asked and made the strings of his lute vibrate softly. “Hiding some things,” Patience answered, squeezing a folded parchment into a book, which caused the drawings inside to complain in muffled voices. “But that book is something everyone reads,” Joscelin pointed out. “Whatever you hide will be found in an instant.” “That’s what I want,” Patience smiled. Joscelin’s pretty face screwed up in puzzlement. “I don’t understand,” he confessed.

“Oh, Joss, I’m sorry but I can’t explain to you right now. I’ll miss you,” she added quite suddenly. “I will miss you, too, fair lady,” the Minstrel answered. “If you ask the Fat Lady you will get to know at least a bit,” Patience told him. Joss nodded and carefully placed his lute on the ground. He stayed for a moment and fondly watched Patience working. E would really miss her. But finally his curiosity won over the sentimentality and he hurried off to find the Fat Lady.

Anne had meanwhile found an obstacle very hard to get around: Filch. “You are not allowed to change anything in the trophy room magically,” the caretaker sternly said. “I don’t want to change anything, I want to hide something,” Anne told him. Filch bared his teeth in what might have been a kind of grin. Mrs Norris. Stared up at Anne with an insolent look in her uncanny eyes. For one time, Anne wished Bethesda was there to finish Mr Norris off for her. “But I am allowed to look at the trophies?” Anne asked. Filch made way. “No magic, mind,” he warned. Anne nodded and pretended to have a closer look at the Quidditch trophies. One name caught her attention: Charlie Weasley. She put her finger against the glass. She missed Charlie, really.

But there was the last piece of more or less useful information waiting to be hidden. “No magic,” she reminded herself. That was nothing to stop her. With an evil grin Anne took a pin out of her hair and opened the glass casket. She put the piece of parchment in it, placing it in a way it was easily readable. She laughed quietly to herself, then hurried down to the dungeons, where Patience was already waiting. Only Hengist was missing.

But one second before the door opened, he arrived, covered in dust and completely breathless. Unable to speak, he gave the girls the thumbs-up and fell into his seat. Snape’s entrance made the shelves shiver as usual. “I’ll miss that,” Patience giggled. She earned herself an angry glance, which caused Anne to ask: “Will you miss that as well?” Patience grimaced. “No, not at all.”

The lesson was strange, as there really was no proper lesson at all. But far from being as kind as Emerson Dicket and giving them time to take leave of Hogwarts, Snape began discussing their exam. The potion they had had to brew was by far the most complicated any student had ever seen: Stinging Solution. The theoretical part of the exam had not been easier, covering everything they had ever learned in Potions – or not learned, as Snape pointed out; “I have seldom seen such abysmal answers,” he snarled. Vargas straightened up uncomfortably. He had a nasty feeling that even with the well-known Slytherin bonus passing this exam would be a miracle.

“How often did I ask you where to find a bezoar?” the professor asked. “Twice a year?” Mike guessed in a low voice. Everyone in earshot tried to suppress their laughter. “So, can anyone answer this?” Snape looked around. No hand was up, not even Patience’s, which was due to Hengist telling his friends where he had hidden his information. “a class of Seventh Graders who are yet the same dunderheads as seven years ago?” Snape taunted, Patience looked up. Snape rounded on her. “Where, Miss Wood, do you find a bezoar?” Patience leaned back when Snape bent forward, leaning on her table. “Apart from your cupboard, sir, a bezoar can be found in the stomach of a goat. Any goat can produce them, but the most magical bezoars are found in Persian Mountain Goats,” she answered calmly.

Snape straightened up, a hint of disappointment showing. “Exactly,” he said stiffly. Ghewyn turned around and grinned. “I guess he’s angry because you’ve got full marks,” she whispered. Patience sighed. “I doubt it.” Snape was meanwhile going on, ranting about the class’s next-to-nothing knowledge of antidotes and then about how many students had managed to turn Stinging Solution into Stinking Solution. It was bliss when the bell announced the end of lesson.

 At lunch Hengist asked: “Why did this hiding thing not have time until Friday? We could have skipped Divination and Muggle Studies!” “Great idea – the only problem is we don’t have until this Friday,” Patience replied, doling out stew for her friends and herself. Hengist stared at her. Anne giggled. “Term ends Thursday. Wednesday is the celebration, Tuesday we have a last day at Hogsmeade…” she listed. “Merlin’s beard, I forgot,” Hengist said stunned. “You’re getting old,” Patience teased him. 

Their last day of lessons passed through double Herbology, where Anne did not kill a single plant, to a lesson of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Holly Dicket was visibly very pregnant, and so she preferred showing them a couple of magical creatures. A kappa was staring at them, a water kelpie and a hinkypunk. But the last casket held something no-one had ever seen before. It looked like a gnome, a minuscule being with long arms and legs. Bit it had long claws and a head well-bestowed with sharp teeth. Brian winced. “That looks really evil,” he said. Holly nodded. “It’s a Digger. They live in the earth, preferably on old battle-fields. For centuries they feed on the dead of the battles and the blood spilled there,” she explained. The class looked disgusted. “And when they don’t have anything left?” Nelly enquired.

Many looked as if they did not really want to know. “They creep out at night and claw at everything they can reach – everything that lives. Most people do not survive an attack by Diggers,” Holly answered. “This specimen was caught at York,” she added. The Digger pressed its hands against the glass and bared its teeth menacingly. Several people stepped back.

“Well, just in case you meet them: stun them at once,” Holly warned the class. “And now there’s nothing left but to wish you luck for your future.” Catherine smiled. “And good luck to you, Professor Dicket, and your family.” They all filed out past Holly, saying goodbye. “It’s so weird,” Connor mused. “This was our last lesson ever.” “Oh, shut up,” Mike advised him. “Bad enough knowing it, you don’t need to talk about it.” 

Tuesday, the last Hogsmeade day for the Seventh Years, brought all the scraps Hengist had been hiding back to Hogwarts. That evening everyone was laughing about the guidlelines: When Anne read that she grinned- “I see you keep your secret arrangement with Joscelin to ourselves.” Patience shrugged. “I don’t want to make things too easy.”

Always tell the Fat Lady her voice is fabulous. If you don’t, you could find yourself banned from your room forever.

Want to bribe teachers? Here’s how to do it: Give sweets to Dumbledore, rare plants to Sprout, a Quidditch magazine to either McGonagall or Hooch, shredded Boomslang skin to Snape (but be sure to pack your things, for this will get you expelled) and a cushion to Flitwick. Bribes for other teachers can be found in the Guides to Teachers.

Need information from the Restricted Section? Make a teacher believe you, sneak in at night-time (beware Filch) or just give up.

When the last piece of information was found, it was only Tuesday evening. A real hunt had ensued around the castle. Everyone had been keen on being one of those who found something. Now everyone had his or her own copy of the joke guide, with a flashy green cover sporting the title A Magpies’ Guide to Evil. Even Dumbledore had provided himself with a copy. So had several other teachers. “We will miss them,” Flitwick stated sadly. Snape’s lips curled but he said nothing. Dicket chuckled. “I’ll keep you informed.”

Leaving With A Bang

“Didn’t you say you wanted to end your school time with a real bang?” Brian enquired. Patience looked up from her potions notes. “Yes,” she replied surprised. “Why do you ask?” “So far there’s not been a real bang, has there?” “Oh, I wouldn’t say that – we were rather creative this year,” Patience said thoughtfully. Brian shook his head. “Yeah, you’ve been doing some practical jokes and got some detentions, but, hey, did you do anything special?” He looked expectantly at Patience. “No,” she had to admit. “Well, I’ve got THE idea for you, then,” Brian revealed and sat down. “I hope you can spare a minute or two,” he added as an afterthought. Patience swallowed. “Erm… The exams…,” she said reluctantly. “You’ll do fine anyway, and this is the fifteenth time you’re going through this set of notes. I’ve been watching you,” Brian said and laughed at Patience’s shocked face. “Don’t you worry, I’m no stalker. How about having a show before leaving. Not the usual ball, but a show?” “You can’t do that, everyone’s so keen on going to the ball,” Patience told Brian at once. “Then have a show a week or two before the ball takes place. Come on, say yes,” Brian wheedled.

“Why do you want my consent?” Patience asked suspiciously. “Oh, well, I thought you could influence Hengist to support the idea and talk to his prefect colleagues – and our head boy and girl as well,” Brian shrugged, but did not look at Patience. “And?” Patience prompted. “And… Well… Mike and me want to be the show-masters, and we thought, erm, a lady would be nice, too,” Brian awkwardly said. Patience took a deep breath. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “Would you do that? Please, Patience,” Brian begged. “I’ll talk to Hengist, and the other thing… I’ll think about it,” Patience decided. “Really, Brian, I’ll do it,” she added, seeing Brian’s doubtful look.

 

The opportunity to talk to Hengist came that very evening, when the prefect came in and fell into a chair, closing his eyes. His curls were ruffled even more than usual. “Honestly, how can anyone think this damned job a privilege?” he groaned. “It is a privilege,” said Percy Weasley huffily. “Then do the job when you’re old enough,” Hengist snapped back. He was not in the mood to put up with pompous Percy. Oliver Wood laughed. “You had better be silent, Verres. I did calm the waves, but maybe you had better get down to earth,” Hengist addressed the Quidditch team captain. Still Hengist’s eyes were closed. “What did you do?” Patience asked her younger brother. “Try to forge McGonagall’s signature to get the pitch seven days a week,” Hengist reported. “Only he did an awkward job with it.” Patience looked at Oliver, and her mouth twitched. She could not manage to tell him off. “You’re laughing, Patience,” Hengist remarked. “You’ve got your eyes closed!” Patience protested. “You are laughing. I can sense that,” Hengist insisted.

Patience shrugged. “Maybe I am. I think it a brilliant idea,” she confessed. Hengist shook his head. “That family is the nail to my coffin,” he said pathetically and finally opened his eyes. He scanned Patience. “Alright, then. Oliver, it’s okay. McGonagall will give you the pitch five days next week. That’s the bargain. No detention, but only five days.” Oliver beamed. “Thanks, mate. I owe you one,” he said and hurried up to the dormitory to fetch his charts. “He’s mad,” Hengist commented. “Yes. A little. Hengist…” Patience began and drew up a chair next to her friend. “Hengist, Brian asked me to get your support for an idea of his,” she began. Hengist leaned forward. “Brian? Why doesn’t he ask me himself?” he asked astonished. Patience looked down. “He thinks I’m on better terms with you.” “You are, Patience. Of course you are,” Hengist assured her. “Tell me,” he added.

“Brian and Mike want to do a show to leave with a bang,” Patience explained. Hengist shrugged. “So what? It’s no problem mentioning that. What kind of show?” Patience blinked. “I don’t know. Only that Brian and Mike want to be the show-masters,” she said. Hengist laughed. “Well, that’s fine for them. But yes, why shouldn’t we have a show. I’ll talk to Brian and Mike so that I get a better idea.” “Isn’t it getting a bit too much for you?” Patience enquired worriedly. Hengist grinned. “No. I’m fine. It’s only – I want to do my best in the exams.” “You want to do your best in everything,” Patience reminded him. Hengist nodded. “Point taken.” He yawned. “Well, I’ll find the two now and tomorrow I’ll tell the others. We’ll have the bang.” Suddenly he looked at Patience with an expression of wariness. “Listen, girl, you said you wanted to leave with a bang, remember?” he said. Patience nodded. “Yes. But my idea was the best joke in the history of Hogwarts.” Hengist nodded relieved. “So this is not going to be just another practical joke?” “No,” Patience firmly said.

 

Hengist was well prepared at the next meeting of the house prefects with the Head Boy and Girl. David Bantam, Head Boy and Ravenclaw Quidditch Team Captain, opened the meeting: “As you all know, the end of the year ball is fast approaching. Any ideas for a motto?” He looked around expectantly. Ghewyn Rhys in her function as Head Girl was also staring around, but her eyes were daring people to speak. Hengist nevertheless raised his hand. He did not care about Ghewyn’s attitudes. “Yes?” David asked relieved.

“Sorry, David, this is nothing to do with the ball, strictly speaking, but…” Hengist began. Ghewyn shook her head. “Then wait until the meeting is closed,” she said acidly. “Ghewyn, please,” David hissed. ”Go on.” Hengist grinned. “Thanks. What about doing a show, a kind of cabaret show, a week or two before the ball takes place? People like the balls alright, but such a show would be worth to remember. And don’t we all want to be remembered here?” Hengist addressed his colleagues. Predictably, Ramon Vargas looked bored and watched his fingernails instead of paying attention. But the others, even Ramon’s Slytherin partner Melanie Pallet, seemed to be interested. Even Ghewyn dropped her usual businesslike behaviour.

“A show? That’s a great idea,” said Cinnamon Wilkes, a Hufflepuff prefect. “Whose idea was it, then? It cannot have been Alret’s,” remarked Vargas with a sneer. Hengist laughed. “For once you are right, it was not my idea. Brian Cullen and Mike Flatley asked me to present their idea here. I asked them to wait in front of the room so that they can explain more. Shall I call them in?” It was more or less just politeness that induced Hengist to ask, for he was already on the way to the door. “Yes,” David hurriedly said.

Hengist opened the door, and Mike and Brian stepped inside. “Hello,” Mike greeted the assembled prefects. Brian quickly counted the faces: there were Gryffindor’s Hengist and Ghewyn, Hufflepuff’s Cinna and Basil Evans, Slytherin’s Vargas and Melanie and Ravenclaw’s David Bantam and Victoria Hall. “Thank you for listening to our idea,” he said and smiled at Victoria with his most charming smile. Victoria blushed and giggled.

“Tell us about the idea,” Ghewyn briskly said and gave Victoria a dark look. “At your service,” Brian grinned and bowed, then motioned to Mike to begin. “Imagine this: a stage hung with red velvet, thousands of glittering fairies on the walls, multi-coloured baubles sprouting from every corner – and us, all of us, presenting a sparkling revue of sketches, music and dance to the awed audience!” Laughter answered him. “Or something the like,” Brian added amused. “Anyway, why not have everyone who wants to perform something come forward, give them a chance to make their dream true? It will amuse us and the teachers, and it would be the perfect thing to be remembered by, wouldn’t it?”

“You are right,” Basil said firmly. “I’m for it.” He looked around expectantly. “Me, too,” Cinnamon agreed. David grinned broadly. “Sure, of course I am. Ghewyn?” “Yes,” Ghewyn nodded. Victoria was already imagining herself on stage, so only the Slytherin prefects were left. Melanie looked at Vargas. Vargas opened his mouth and he was about to say no, but then Melanie bent over and whispered something. Vargas closed his eyes for a second. “Alright,” he said through clenched teeth. “But we will choose the presenters.” “You’ll do nothing of the sort. We will elect them,” David said at once. Vargas raised an eyebrow. “Why not have the house with the most points appoint the presenters?”

“Because the house with the most points does not necessarily have the best show people,” Hengist answered. “But you do?” Vargas shot back. “Of course. David, why don’t we give Mike and Brian the honour to present the show? It was their idea after all,” Hengist suggested. Mike and Brian were diplomatically silent, just watching the proceedings. “You’re right, Hengist. You really got a point there. Anyone against this apart from Ramon and Melanie? No? Good. Brian, Mike, you’re in charge. But I’ve got one condition,” David said. Vargas looked furious. Mike and Brian looked rather wary. “You need to appoint a jury to watch all the suggested sketches, music and dance beforehand. We don’t want any surprises. And please invite two teachers of your choice to be there as well. I’ll talk to the headmaster for everything else. Can you agree to that?” David smiled. Mike and Brian nodded. “We can,” Brian said. “And we promise this show will be great,” Mike added enthusiastically.

 

The jury was elected in the following week. Every student of the 7^th year had the possibility to appoint six members of his or her choice, and the six people with the most nominations were the chosen few. The presenters were also to be present. But there was still a tiny problem: “Patience, did you think about our suggestion?” Mike asked. Patience took a deep breath. “Yes,” she said. “Yes you thought of it or yes you’re doing it?” Brian asked. Patience raised an eyebrow. “Both.” “Yippee!” Mike exclaimed and Brian bowed deeply. “It will be an honour.”

 

People were busy developing dances, sketches and songs for the great show for the next weeks. The jury did not approve of everything – especially not the teachers. “That sketch about Professor Trelawney is a bit too harsh – modify it or it won’t be in the show,” Emerson Dicket declared. Professor Sprout nodded vigorously. “And the one about Madam Hooch… That’s way too bad for the little ones to watch.” But in the end, after two weeks of rehearsals and discussions, a two-hour show was ready to be performed. Professor Flitwick and some especially talented charmers including Anne had taken on the task of decorating the Great Hall.

 

In the evening of the day the show was to take place, the audience filed into the Great Hall with ‘Ohs’ and ‘Ahs’. There was a stage erected at the far end, where usually the teachers’ table stood. The chairs were arranged to form lines. There was a curtain made of glittering golden cloth and a specially decorated seat for Dumbledore. Lights were glittering magically everywhere, and when they went out, the only light came from a multitude of baubles filled with fairies. A single spotlight fell onto the stage, but nobody appeared for a moment. Then Mike sauntered onto the stage, looking gorgeous in a Muggle suit and tie. “Hello. What are you doing here? This was to be our last rehearsal, I thought,” he said.

Nobody answered. Mike frowned. “Oh well, as you’re here… Maybe I had better call my colleagues. Brian! Patience!” Brian came from the door, running and fighting futilely with his tie. “Sorry, am a bit late. Where’s the girl?” “Don’t know,” Mike shrugged. Then a head popped out through the curtain – a head full of rollers. “You said I had until seven o’clock tonight,” Patience said indignantly. “Yes. But all the people... Sorry, mate, can you give me the time? Percy, isn’t it?” Brian addressed Percy Weasley who blushed deeply. “It’s quarter past seven,” Percy said and his voice made a curious little jump with every word.

“Is it? Merlin’s beard,” Brian swore convincingly. “Then we’ve got to start. Patience!” Patience appeared, wearing a Muggle evening dress and no rollers any longer. “Okay, who was going to start?” she asked in an audible whisper. “You,” Mike and Brian hissed unanimously. “Right, then,” Patience muttered, straightened her shoulders and put on a brilliant smile. “Welcome to the one and only, the first and best, the most exciting and scandalous Hogwarts Show!” Wild applause answered her words. “We will lead you through an evening of song and dance, of jokes and thoughts, of serious and light entertainment,” Mike went on. “Welcome our first performer, Miss Stella Day, with her spectacular performance of  Come Hecate by the Weird Sisters!”

While the show was well on its way, the audience was thrilled. Of course not every song, not every joke suited everybody – but then, you could hardly expect to please each and everyone of the inhabitants of Hogwarts. Some people, as Patience had told Brian and Mike with a grin, had absented themselves from the very beginning. “Honestly, we should have made it obligatory to come – now the joke will miss its aim,” Brian sighed. “Doesn’t matter, it’s our turn,” Mike shrugged and pushed Brian in front of the curtain. Brian was now wearing his usual school robes, tie askew and hair ruffled. He sat down in a perfect replica of a classroom chair, that was Anne’s work. For, as Anne was not so very keen to appear on stage she had agreed to supply the decoration, and so old curtains and Filch’s assorted rubbish had turned into magnificent decoration and sets thanks to Anne’s highly accomplished Transfiguration.

A door fell close behind the curtain, and Mike strode to the front – but was it Mike? After a second of shock, everyone burst into laughter. Everyone, apart from the Slytherins. “Have you prepared your antidotes, you dunderheads?” Mike asked in a very dangerous low voice that was a really good imitation of Professor Snape – who, as Patience had remarked, was not there anyway.

“No, sir,” Brian said with a convincing quiver in his voice. “Well, well,” sneered Mike, “then that’s100 points from Gryffindor – and incidentally, since you are a Gryffindor, let’s take 150 for that as well.” “Sir, perhaps I could do my antidote now?” Brian suggested, looking ready to faint on the spot. “I doubt you could do it any time, but you may try. I’ll test it on you, and this time someone has to die. I want a student dead!” Mike announced and rubbed his hands. “But you can’t…” “Don’t tell me what I can or can’t do – I’m your teacher, and that’s 100 points off for cheek and…” Mike didn’t need to finish for the whole Gryffindor audience screamed: “150 points off for being a Gryffindor!”

“Silence!” Mike shouted imperiously and held out his left arm. The robes fell back and revealed something that looked remarkably like a tattoo on his forearm. Patience held her breath behind the curtain. That was something she had had no idea about. Brian meanwhile was frantically mixing ingredients in a cauldron. Patience had seen to it that it didn’t matter in which order or how much of the stuff went into the mixture. It would prove harmless in any case.

But it exploded most effectively, shrouding Mike and Brian in a cloud o acid green smoke. Patience grinned as the audience screamed in alarm. With blackened faces, Mike and Brian emerged from the haze. “Sorry, sir,” Brian said meekly. But Mike-Snape bent down. “No problem, and let’s say… 300 points for being such a brave Gryffindor!” With that Mike swept off the stage and Brian began to pack his things. He shook his head. “Perhaps the Snape-venom-antidote worked really fine!” To hysterical laughter and clapping, Brian left the stage as well. Patience had grabbed Mike’s arm and was now scolding him for painting a Dark Mark there. “are you completely mad? He’ll kill you for that!” she said. “Cheer up, Wood, he isn’t even here, so how shall he know?” Brian shrugged.

Without any incident, the show came to its end after two hours of fun. Exhausted, all those who had participated gathered behind the makeshift stage. “You were great,” Patience told them all happily. “Do you think it was alright? Really alright?” Stella asked. “Yes, definitely more than okay,” Patience assured her and Stella beamed. Somebody cleared his throat and the students looked around. There stood Albus Dumbledore and he was smiling. “A very good show indeed,” he said and came closer. “That was a brilliant idea, and I may say that you were the first to think of giving the school something back in that kind. Thank you.” “It was our pleasure,” Mike replied formally and everyone burst into laughter. “Well, have a good night after this great evening,” the headmaster said. “We shall clear up. Chop, chop.” He shooed the students to bed as if they were still 11 years old, but nobody seemed to mind. Tired but absolutely elated, they went to their dormitories.

 

The Monday after the big show, Brian and Mike were on their way to Transfiguration when they were suddenly cornered by Professor Snape himself. “I have heard about your funny little jokes,” the teachers said so lowly nobody of the passing students could listen. “It was just a joke, sir, and no harm done,” Brian said and smiled his most charming smile. Predictably, it failed to impress Snape. “You had better watch out, if you want to finish your education here. Finish it successfully,” Snape hissed. “Put one toe out of line…” He did not need to finish his sentence. The glare he gave to Brian and Mike was absolutely sufficient. Snape turned around and swept away.

Mike and Brian looked at each other. “Did he just threaten to fail us?” Mike asked. “Yep,” Brian replied and shook his head dumb-founded. “This is just ridiculous – it was just a joke! What has become of the freedom of art?” Mike demanded heatedly. “You had better not ask Snape about that,” Brian cautioned his friend. “Yeah, Flatley, and you had better be a good boy,” Vargas sneered from behind, to the guffaws of Cook and Banks. “Why?” Mike asked aggressively. “Because,” Vargas said smugly, straightening his robes, “I can well report you, loser. And as to the freedom of arts – that depends on the art.” “Not Dark Arts, you wannabe bad boy,” Brian shot back. “Watch your mouth, Cullen,” Vargas hissed.

They had reached the Transfiguration classroom and Brian jerked the door open so hard that it banged against the outer wall. Heads swivelled around, and the Malignant magpies rose as one, wands in hand. Vargas raised his hands. “Oh girls, girls,” he mimicked Hengist. “Calm down, we are not the ones you should beware.” “That’s right, Vargas,” Anne said haughtily and made a show of pocketing her wand. “You are just…”

But what exactly Vargas and his cronies were they should never know because Professor McGonagall entered and understood the situation at once. “I thought I was teaching Seventh Years and not First Year?” she asked in a mildly reproachful tone that sufficed to calm them all down. “To your seats,” she continued. “First of all, I want to congratulate you for the really advanced Transfiguration done on the stage. You have made me proud. How did you manage to get the smoke, though?” she asked. Patience smiled. “A Fume Fluid,” she revealed. Vargas made a derisive sound. “Yeah, because you’re such a genius at Potions," Mike said loudly. “Mr Vargas, Mr Flatley, keep your comments to yourselves,” McGonagall sharply told them. “Anyway, let us return to work. The exams may be over, but there is still the one or other rough corner I would much prefer to have you smoothed down.”

Uncomfortable Truths

The lesson had progressed very far already. In only five minutes, the bell would end it, and then, well, then the last ever school potion was brewed. The last mixture before the N.E.W.T.s started. Patience stared into her cauldron and sighed deeply. How much she would miss this. She filled two phials carefully, corked and labelled them, and then carried them to the front. Snape nodded briskly without looking at her.

Patience smiled ruefully. “Sir,” she said softly and he looked up. “What?” he snarled. “I just wanted to say that…” Snape’s eyebrows narrowed and Patience nearly lost her courage. “That it was great learning potions making,” she ended her sentence a little more nervously as she had begun. Snape shook his head. “That does not alter your grade, Miss Wood. Sit down again.” Patience nodded and edged back to her seat.

“What did you say to the son of a bat?” Anne whispered out of the corner of her mouth. Patience shrugged. “Just something about the potion,” she lied. Anne frowned. That seemed hardly the truth, especially since Patience was eyeing Snape very thoughtfully indeed. “That goes a bit far,” Hengist said at that moment and Anne’s head jerked around to stare at Patience in sheer shock. “You are not in love with him, are you?” she demanded. This time it was Patience who was shocked. “What? No!” she exclaimed so loudly that Snape looked straight at the Magpies and shook his head. “Tut, tut, and this in the last lesson. However, for the sake of good old times… 10 points from Gryffindor for disturbing the class.”

Exactly at that moment the bell rang. Patience groaned. “Oh super, now I’m the one who lost crucial ten points. Yes, Ghewyn, I am sorry, don’t glare at me,” she added, addressing Ghewyn Rhys who was passing by. “But you answered my question quite satisfactorily,” Anne grinned. Hengist chuckled. “Let’s go girls, before we’re to scrub all the cauldrons.” They packed their bags, but in the door Patience turned around and looked at the dungeon quite fondly. “I’ll miss it,” she confessed. Hengist and Anne exchanged a glance that translated as pitying and amused at once. They each took one of Patience’s elbows and steered her away.

“Are you actually saying,” Hengist asked sternly, “that you will miss the draughty old dungeon there where we froze to death before the lesson started?” “Yes,” Patience replied. “Are you honestly implying you are going to miss dead whatevers drifting around in liquid?” Anne asked. Patience giggled. “Well, yes.” “And even that horrible person inhabiting the room?” Hengist asked. Patience grinned. “I never knew there was someone living down there – I thought it was all pickles.” Now they all burst into laughter, and even Patience’s sadness was gone.

“You seem very happy indeed,” the headmaster addressed them. The Magpies stopped dead. “Only enjoying ourselves,” Anne replied. “Ah yes. You should do so, by all means. Have a very nice day,” Dumbledore said and twinkled merrily at them. The Magpies walked on. Dumbledore looked over his shoulder to see them round the corner. Another year was almost over, and those pupils would leave while a new set of children would arrive. The school was constantly changing, and usually Dumbledore enjoyed it – only the last weeks of every school year were a bit painful for all the old hats leaving. He smiled self-consciously. He would certainly miss the Magpies, and he was more than glad to be able to turn to Emerson Dicket for any further information.

Finally Dumbledore continued on his way to the potions classroom. Severus Snape was looking at all the bottles he had collected. “Still busy, Severus?” Dumbledore asked. Snape looked up. “A little,” he answered. “A little indeed. What do you think, what are their chances in the upcoming exams?” Dumbledore enquired. Snape shrugged. “They are well-prepared, it is up to them now.” “Yes. Up to them. What about your master student?” The headmaster took up a bottle and held it against the light. Snape frowned. “I do not have a master student.”

Dumbledore smiled slightly. “Oh yes, Severus, that you have.” “I do not treat any student different from others,” Snape defended himself. He looked rather annoyed at Dumbledore’s implications. “I am sure you do, sometimes, as we all do. And I am sure you are aware that your master student has gone through the worst of your treatment. That’s what made her so brilliant, I should say.” “Her!” Snape said loudly. Dumbledore looked at him calmly. “Why, yes. Her. She is really your master student, so like you, even in other things.” “Headmaster!” Snape said warningly.

“Alright,” Dumbledore went on, turning from Snape and wandering towards the rows of desks. He was silent for a few moments, waiting for Snape to say something, but the potions master was wary. He would not speak first. “You do not ask in which things she is your equal. She is nosy, like you were at her age. She can be spiteful, and downright vicious, and darkly inventive. And she taught herself some curses she should not even know about,” Dumbledore listed thoughtfully. Snape put down a pewter tankard with a clunk. “You are mistaken, we are not even remotely alike,” he said stiffly. Dumbledore nodded. “I thought you would say so, Severus. It must be uncomfortable, facing someone who can easily beat you in everything that is dear to you, and that in someone so young.” This was an open challenge, not quite truthful, and definitely below the belt.

“You are wrong in assuming that Patience Wood could take up anyone but another student. True, she is quite good at potions, but I do not think her up to more than that. Perhaps she had better do an apprenticeship with an apothecary. That might suit her,” Snape said loftily. Dumbledore nodded. “Perhaps you had better suggest that to her. Her own idea is to do Muggle Studies at Oxford, and afterwards go to the Ministry.” The words lingered in the room. Snape swallowed. “The Ministry?” he asked. “Oh yes. When Voldemort returns…” Dumbledore left the ending open. Snape sighed deeply. “She must not go there, not she. Not the… you know,” he said, avoiding to name the secret abilities.

“I shall make sure it will not happen. Until then, promise me you and Dicket have an eye on them.” “Me!” Snape exclaimed horrified. Dumbledore eyed Snape shrewdly. “But of course. You do have an interest in the Magpies, and it is quite obvious to people who know you well. No, don’t say anything, you are going to deny it anyway. So just listen, Severus Snape: You did well. You taught her everything you could, and whatever she found out by sheer curiosity is fine, too. You want to keep an eye on her, so do I. We are lucky that the three agreed to do what we want them to do, and hopefully we’ll stay lucky later on and keep tagging them. For now, just let her know that she is the most able potions brewer you ever taught!”

When Dumbledore had finished, Snape took a moment to consider his answer. Then he said: “No.” “You have never been told, but you were, easily,” Dumbledore said pensively. “That is not the reason. She knows it. She can read, can’t she? And she can check old records and see that she is the only one ever to get the highest marks more than two times in a row. I do not need to repeat what she knows,” Snape explained. “Oh yes, you do, sometimes,” Dumbledore sighed. “But I see there is no way to convince you. Severus, I do hope that past sins will not fall back on you one day. I really do. Until later.” And the headmaster left the dungeon.

Snape waited until the door was well closed, then sat down on a chair. Perhaps Dumbledore was right, but Patience Wood’s head was swollen enough without him adding to her pride. No, no, he was doing right in not telling her any praise at all. Quite right. Otherwise she might get as conceited as James Potter and his cronies. Snape snarled in remembrance of his own school days. Had Patience been a student like himself, he would have told her. Or perhaps not, had she been just as annoying as she was now. No, he had better stay silent.  

The Prom Ball

When the evening of the prom ball came near, most of the girls started to get twitchy about their clothes. Catherine and Nelly were constantly bent over magazines like Modern Witch or Witch Weekly Ball Fashion. Ghewyn had every day a new hairstyle and asked everyone which one looked better. When she asked Oliver Wood, the boy looked startled. “You had different hairstyles? Really?”, he asked in return. Ghewyn gaped at him. “You didn’t notice I had my hair braided yesterday and today it is curly and last Thursday it was smooth as silk?”, she asked in a dangerously calm voice. Patience came to her younger brother’s rescue. “Boys that age do not look at girls’ hair, believe me. Never ask Oliver for his opinion on clothes or hair or make-up!”, she laughed. Ghewyn looked at them both with open loathing. “The Wood family is a real pest”, she hissed and ran into the dormitory.

“Oh dear! And it’s still four days!”, Anne moaned. Patience grinned. “I should have brewed the potion to relax her. But now it’s too late. Unless…” She suddenly smiled very evilly. “Unless what?”, Anne enquired suspiciously.” “Unless Snape has something in his store”, Patience finished her sentence. Hengist jumped from his chair. “You don’t want to get into his store, do you?”, he asked although knowing his friend would affirm that. “Of course I will. I don’t think I’ll survive Ghewyn in this mood for another day.” Patience closed her copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them with a snap. “You can’t…”, Hengist began. Anne stopped him. “No. You are excused this time, prefect Alret.” “And you as well, Anne”, Patience added. “What?”, Anne asked incredulously. “I want to do this all by myself”, Patience told her friends.

“Why?”, Hengist wanted to know. “Because this is so dreadful everyone caught in the act would be thrown out, and the less doing it the better”, Patience said in a whisper. “If you are going, I’m going too”, Anne furiously spat. Hengist crossed his arms. “You won’t go without me as well, missy”, he said in a sharp voice. Patience beamed at her friends. “Thanks. I knew I could always count on you two!” They started to plan the burglary for the night. Bethesda would be a good scapegoat as usual. Patience whispered some instructions in her cat’s ear and let her go.

As soon as someone opened the door of the Gryffindor Common Room, Bethesda swished out. Catherine shrieked because the cat had touched her leg. “Did she scratch?”, Oliver wanted to know. “Shouldn’t you learn for your exams?”, Percy Weasley asked testily. Oliver grinned broadly. “No. I’m developing new Quidditch strategies”, he explained. Percy turned away while his brothers Fred and George came near. “Oliver, is there a chance for us to be on the team?”, Fred asked. Oliver nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. This year, our seeker leaves as well as one of our beaters and a chaser. What would you be, pray?” Fred and George exchanged a glance. George answered for them both: “Beaters!” Oliver smiled. “Okay. Let me think about it during the holidays and I will see who is going to replace whom.”

Patience sighed. “I have already been replaced”, she said gloomily. Brian Cullen patted her back cordially, almost making her fall out of her chair. “Cheer up, you’ve been great all these seven years and we will never forget your spirited, biased commentaries!” That made the three Malignant Magpies laugh. They sat together and Anne talked Hengist into playing Wizard’s Chess with her. Patience watched them. “Be careful, this is a favourite move of hers! Don’t put your knight on E5!”, Patience warned her friend.

But Hengist had already made his move – and the knight was taken by Anne’s queen who took the ivory seat she was usually sitting at to smash the little rider off the horse. “You know, muggles have these big chess boards in the pedestrian precincts”, Hengist thoughtfully said, looking at his desperate situation and trying to shut his ears to the complaints of his chessmen. “What? And they move?”, Patience exclaimed. In her mind pictures were being formed of giant chessmen being smashed in muggle streets. “No! You should know by now that muggle chessmen do not move and never destroy their opponents!”, Hengist said indignantly, choosing his last remaining tower for the next move. “I wouldn’t…”, Patience began but stopped herself. It was no use anyway. No one could beat Anne at Wizard’s Chess.

       But the game had lasted long enough to see the Common Room almost empty by the end of it. Only Oliver and the Weasley twins were still there. “Verres Wood, you should be sleeping by now!” Patience, all big sister, could imitate the tone of her mother very well. Oliver shrugged. “You’re up still”, he pointed out. “That’s useless. I’m older, I’m wiser, and you are tired. To bed with you! And the Messrs. Weasley as well, if you please!” This time she sounded more like Professor McGonagall. Hengist and Anne grinned. “You should be a teacher once”, Anne teased her friend. “Oh no. The poor students”, Oliver commented and sprinted upstairs to avoid any flying objects. His sister was far too good at making objects fly and hit targets. Fred and George yawned, stretched and trod off as well.

“Okay, let’s go to the dungeons where the vicious villain lurks!”, Hengist joked. They walked on tiptoes. Every creak of wood, every screech of one of the school owls which were flying around the castle towers made them almost jump. After all they were up to breaking into a teacher’s office. Although being first rate pranksters, this was unusual even for the famous Malignant Magpies. They were in constant fear of some teacher walking around or, even worse, for being caught by Mrs Norris and consequently by the much-loathed caretaker Argus Filch. And when they came around a corner, they stood in front of…

“What are ye three doin’ ‘ere?”, the familiar voice of Rubeus Hagrid addressed them. “We’re looking for Bethesda”, Patience quickly answered. “Ye shoul’n’t be out that late”, the keeper of the keys and grounds scolded them. “I won’t give ye away, min’. I know that takin’ care of yer pets is a good thing. Jus’ watch out not ter be caught by anyone else!” Hagrid smiled warmly through his enormous beard and walked on. “Just imagine we had met Snape”, Hengist said in a low voice. Anne shuddered. “I don’t want to imagine that!”

They proceeded. “Luckily these staircases are stone and not wood – just imagine they’d creak!”, Patience whispered. Their feet hardly made a noise. They never met a ghost. But when a crash was heard throughout the castle, they all knew that Peeves the poltergeist was on the rampage. “We should hurry!”, Anne hissed. If, as was to be supposed, Mrs Norris was lurking around and had heard the crash, Filch would soon appear to look for his enemy Peeves. He and the poltergeist were fighting a war against each other that secretly amused all inhabitants of Hogwarts.

In night-time the dungeons were more chilly and spooky than usual. Hengist counted the doors to find the tiny one that led to Snape’s private store. It was next to his office and the classroom. “Why can’t he keep his things in his office as any normal man does?”, Anne muttered. Patience grinned. “He does. At least the poisonous things are in a cupboard there. But here are the things students do not use quite so often and don’t have in their sets of basic potions ingredients.” “How comes you know such a lot about this store and the office?”, Hengist asked suspiciously. “Have you been breaking in here before?” “Not really, no. But it’s common knowledge I thought.” Patience waved her wand in front of the keyhole. “Alohomora!” And the door opened.

Anne shook her head. “Tut, tut, professor, how careless not to use more advanced spells to secure this place!” “Well, who would go in here? What would any normal student need potions ingredients for?”, Hengist asked reasonably. “Which brings me to the thought that Snape will suspect me at once”, Patience whispered. Then she shrugged. “But then… He always does. We are probably the criminal suspects number one in any case!” They all giggled. The shelves were laden with jars and boxes full of powders and stones and things Anne and Hengist didn’t even want to know what they were.

“And he keeps potions in here?”, Anne asked carefully. “To me it seems only like loads of ingredients!” “He keeps them here”, Patience answered, opening a door in a tiny cupboard. And right she was. Shining, colourful glass bottles were lined there. Neatly written signs told the students what was inside. “Hang on! That’s your handwriting!”, Hengist suddenly said. “That’s why I knew so much. I had to sort things in here and write etiquettes”, Patience explained, taking the phial she had carried with herself and filling some greenish-blue liquid in it. The etiquette on the bottle said Relaxing Elixir. “Now we’ll give that into Ghewyn’s jug at breakfast and hope it will work”, Anne smiled satisfied. “We just have to get back undetected”, Hengist groaned. The door closed magically again. “We could seal it”, Anne suggested. “No. Let’s hope Snape doesn’t need to relax before we left school”, Patience rejected the idea. 

Anne pretended to need to discuss some urgent matters with Ghewyn at breakfast so that Patience could pour the potion into Ghewyn’s mug undisturbed. Hengist hoped it would work, for the last evening had been most unnerving. “Anne, I cannot think of such matters now. I have to open the ball with David!”, Ghewyn burst out finally. Anne grinned. “Sure. Sorry to keep your mind off ensnaring David!” She walked to her place. “A pity we can’t take part in the ball”, Oliver said wistfully. “Do you really want to dance?”, Patience asked incredulously. “No!”, her brother exclaimed shocked. “But I’d love to see the Slytherins fail at dancing!” “We’ll see”, Anne grinned. “I think you will enjoy your own ball very much, Verres, so don’t be too unhappy about not joining ours”, Patience soothed Oliver.

“Maybe we’re there”, Fred announced mysteriously. “What?”, Hengist asked alarmed. “You are certainly not invited!” “No, Mr Prefect, we’re not, but that doesn’t matter. We have means, you know”, George boasted. “Important and very ell working means”, Fred added, his eyes sparkling. “I think it will be a memorable evening”, Patience giggled. The day, being a Saturday, was memorable as well. The weather was fine, there were no lessons – and no homework! It was a bit more bearable to be in Ghewyn’s presence, for she had calmed down considerably. “Seems as if the son of a bat has made the potion right”, Anne remarked amused.

 But after lunch the potion proved ineffective again. As Patience didn’t want to risk sneaking into Snape’s store room again, the Malignant Magpies decided to stay as far away from Ghewyn as possible. “What is she afraid of?”, Hengist wondered. “I’m not sure, maybe she doesn’t know how to dance. Or she thinks she’s ugly”, Patience thought aloud. Mike Flatley grinned broadly. “She’s not ugly, but what would you say if we made her feel so?”, he suggested. “Mike, I think this would be highly unfair”, Patience protested. Anne nodded her assistance. So Ghewyn, Catherine and Nelly disappeared undisturbed after lunch to prepare for the evening. Patience and Anne thought that ridiculous.

They decided to spend the afternoon together with Hengist and Mungus at Hagrid’s. “Hagrid, will you be at the ball?”, Patience asked, sitting on a fence and dangling her feet. Hagrid looked up from his pumpkin patches, where the first tiny pumpkins were to be seen. “At Halloween they will be wonderful”, Hengist stated. “And we’re not there”, Anne added. “Yeah, an’ don’ you get ter near them, Anne”, Hagrid chuckled and made the starting melancholy disappear. “Bu’ ter answer yer question, Patience, yeah, I’ll be at the ball.” “Great”, Hengist commented.

“Aren’t you a bit nervous?”, Hagrid enquired, leaving his garden-work. “Not at all”, Anne told him calmly, trying to get a better look at the pumpkins. “Keep away from them”, Patience laughed and jumped off the fence to have a better look herself. “I confess I am a bit nervous. I mean, who would dance with me?”, Hengist said thoughtfully. Patience and Anne smiled at him. “We will”, Anne promised. “Besides, I’m your partner so I will have to dance with you. And Eliza Bennett won’t mind as well!”, Patience added. Hagrid asked both girls for a dance and then sent them up to the castle again. “Yer need ter dress, I dare say!”, he reminded them. Anne grimaced. Patience obeyed sighing. “I’d much rather not dress”, she muttered. “Why?”, Hagrid asked. “I’d much rather not go to a ball when I’ll only be sitting except for three dances!”

Her friends began to laugh wildly. “You’re  completely mental”, Hengist judged, shaking his head. “Okay, okay, I’ll be at the ball. You’ll see what will come off it!”, Patience warned. “Has she planned anything?”, Hengist enquired of Anne who shrugged. “Not as far as I know”, she said honestly. They parted at the stairs leading to their respective dormitories.

       Catherine, Nelly and Ghewyn were all undressed, wearing their morning robes and towels to dry their wet hair. Catherine’s face was almost unrecognisable under a thick layer of something white. Ghewyn was gleaming as if she had rubbed pure oil into her skin and Nelly was experimenting with various ways to make her lashes appear longer. “So you finally decided to come up and get decently dressed”, Ghewyn snapped. “Yes, we have. Hang on, I think I forgot to take my shampoo this time!” Patience dived under her bed to get the bottle. Anne was already at the bathroom door.

“Hurry, or you’ll never be ready in time”, Nelly said, her lashes now hanging down onto her cheekbones and blocking her view completely. “It’s still two hours”, Anne pointed out. “Only? Oh my god!”, Catherine shrieked and wriggled past Anne into the bathroom to undo her mask. Patience had to bite her lips not to burst into laughter, but today she did not want to offend anybody. She pushed Anne gently into the bathroom. While Anne was looking intently at herself in the mirror, Patience began washing her hair. “What shall I do tonight?”, Anne suddenly asked. Patience emerged from the sink with her head full of foam. “You could braid them”, she suggested. “I’m rubbish at doing anything extraordinary with my hair”, Anne complained. Patience grinned. “Are you getting the nerves or what?” “Stick your head under water again!”, Anne snapped. Patience followed this advice.

When she had her hair wrapt in a towel she ventured to speak again: “Anne, if you want to then I’ll take care of your hair. Let me just dry mine, okay?” Anne nodded her agreement and also washed her hair. Patience meanwhile used her wand to accelerate the drying process. “When we go to Oxford you will need to find another way to dry your hair”, Anne stated. “I think muggles have a device for drying hair, haven’t they? I remember Professor Dicket said something about a hair-drawer.” “Dryer”, Anne corrected her amused. “Well, if you say so. We should dress first ere I go on with your hair.” Patience shook her short hair and grinned. “I think I can’t do anything else to it. What will you wear?”

As Anne and Patience had walked back into the dormitory while talking, the other three had heard their words. “You haven’t decided yet what to wear?”, Nelly asked in a very high-pitched voice. “You haven’t got robes made for tonight?”, Ghewyn joined her, eyes blazing. Catherine’s jaw had dropped in apparent shock. “Actually no”, Anne said briskly, opened her wardrobe and took a look at its contents. “Hang on, what about that?” And she took out her most battered work robe. Patience burst into laughter. “Yeah, and I’ll ask Verres to borrow me his Quidditch robes”, she giggled. The other three girls rolled their eyes.

Anne put her work robe back and began to choose in earnest this time. Patience did not waste much time but took out her magnificent dark blue dress robes. “Oh, you surely don’t want to wear them yet again?”, Ghewyn asked sneeringly. “Ghewyn, your parents might have money enough to waste it on clothes for each occasion, mine have certainly not. Besides I think that robe very becoming!”, Patience snapped. It was enough being nice for the day, she thought. Anne put a hand on her arm and whispered: “She’s only jealous because her robes do not become her half as well as yours do you!” Patience gritted her teeth and put on the blue robe with the olden alchemy signs. An owl knocked its beak at the window. Anne walked over to let it in, but it headed straight towards Patience.

“Mail for me? How extraordinary!”, Patience muttered, caressed the owl and thanked it. The owl hooted twice and took leave again. A tiny parcel and a letter were all it had left. Patience ripped open the envelop. It was a letter of her grandmother who wished her all the best for the ball and wanted to give her granddaughter a token to wear on this special evening. Patience smiled affectionately and opened the parcel. It contained the finest gold chain imaginable on which were fastened three tiny pearls of gold. “Wow!”, Anne said awed. “Indeed wow. Granny is so wonderful!”, Patience beamed. “It is exactly the chain you needed for this ball!”, Anne agreed.

Then she showed Patience a robe. “I do not yet know this one, do I?”, Patience asked while admiring the robe. “No”, Anne admitted. “Last Hogsmeade weekend I had it made.” Patience grinned good-naturedly. “You could have tipped me off so that I could have bought something new as well”, she said. Anne shook her head. “You don’t understand. I ripped my old dress robe.” “How that?” “Well, I thought maybe the plants would take longer to die if I wore nice clothes, and so I ventured into the greenhouse, which was fatal to some plants, and then got into the twigs of the Whomping Willow”, Anne explained, blushing. Patience shook her head and sighed. “Well, this is marvellous and will become you very well.”

The warm colour of the robe flattered Anne’s dark hair very much. Dark red was one of the colours Anne looked best in. The white cuffs and collar made the robe look extremely elegant. “Now to your hair – and mine”, Patience ordered. Anne had to sit down so that her friend could reach her head. Patience began to make thick plaits and twist them around each other with a bit of help from her wand. Soon Anne’s hair was done in a very flattering kind of crown, with tiny sparkling parts in it. “Not bad”, Ghewyn judged. But Catherine’s admiring stare told Patience it was better than only not bad. Anne herself was happy with the look – and that was, after all, the most important thing.

Patience’s short hair was not to be done like that. “Maybe I shouldn’t have cut it”, she laughed while twisting it into loose curly structures – with her wand, as it would be no use trying it with her hand, her hair would not keep in place anyway – and inserting blue and golden pearls here and there so that in the end her hair looked like hidden under a net of gold and blue. “Do you want to keep it like that?”, Anne asked carefully. “I don’t know. It looks odd, doesn’t it?”, Patience said uncertainly and watched her reflection.

Then, with just one wave, she undid everything and left only a wrath of the blue and golden pearls to hold her hair out of her face. “Definitely better”, Anne smiled relieved. The other girls, dressed in splendid shining robes of light green, rose and pink, were ready to go down into the Common Room. “Who is your partner, Ghewyn?”, Patience enquired when they walked down the steps. “I thought David would ask me, but he didn’t, and so it is Basil Evans”, Ghewyn replied. “I think you are going with Hengist, Patience?” “Yes, that’s right. I wonder whom the others have asked”, Patience laughed and jumped down the last step, which made Ghewyn frown.

“Oh, ladies, you look fabulous!”, Fred Weasley shouted across the Common Room. “Well, thank you”, Anne answered amused. “We have a surprise for you”, George whispered mysteriously. “Really? And what?”, Patience wanted to know. “Tut, tut, Miss Wood, don’t be so nosy”, Fred scolded her. “Here, I have flowers for you two”, George hurried to say before the playful banter went on longer. “Oh, thank you very much, that’s nice”, Anne said surprised. The flowers were really beautiful, and – to Anne’s utmost astonishment – they did not die immediately.

“They’re artificial”, Fred explained. “Did you produce them?”, Patience asked suspiciously, sniffing the flowers. “Yes”, George confessed. “But they do not do anything, I swear!” “Kept your fingers crossed, Fred?”, Hengist cheerfully threw in. “Hey, girls, you are a pleasure to look at!” “You, too, Hengist”, Patience gave back the compliment. Indeed he had managed to coax hi parents into buying him a new dress robe, this time plain black with nothing extraordinary on it. Still it looked very elegant.

“Okay, why don’t we go down? Don’t stay up, you two, it’ll be late”, Hengist advised the Weasley twins. He, Anne and Patience went with the other Gryffindor 7^th years down into the Entrance Hall. The doors to the Great Hall were still closed, but the other 7^th year were already waiting in front of them, accompanied and watched by their House Teachers. “This is just the right moment”, Ghewyn murmured, straightened her robe and sailed towards Basil Evans who blushed fiercely on beholding her. Brian offered his arm to Catherine, causing Mike to imitate him towards Nelly. “I wonder whom Anne is going with”, Nelly said, looking around.

A gasp went through the crowd when David Bantam walked over to Anne, smiling brightly and handing her a single rosebud. John Smith and Connor MacLeod, the remaining Gryffindor boys, went to their respective partners Cinnamon Wilkes and Stella Day. “Nice mix, isn’t it? I just wonder why nobody but they themselves wanted to date the Slytherins”, Patience giggled. It was obvious indeed that the other three houses had mingled, but the Slytherin students kept to themselves. “I wonder how John King has found someone to go with him to the ball”, Anne said lowly.

David looked amused at her and the other Magpies. “Well, Minnie isn’t exactly pretty, and she’s an insufferable know-it-all, isn’t she?”, he remarked coolly. “You’re right”, Patience sighed, “though I hate to say that of a girl!” “The Head Boy and Head Girl with their partners will lead, then I will read the names in alphabetical order”, Professor McGonagall announced after some minutes of nervous chat. “Ghewyn Rhys and Basil Evans, David Bantam and Anne Symmons, up here please”, the teacher said. “Next are Hengist Alret and Patience Wood, as I see. Ashraf Bagoony and Victoria Hall.” The list went on unto Ramon Vargas and Jessa Appleby. Anne turned to Patience and grinned. “Vargas is last?”, she whispered. Patience nodded delighted. The doors swung open and they walked in. Thousands of candles were floating in mid-air, wraths of roses lay on the tables and the walls were decorated with the flags of the four houses intermingled with flags saying “Congratulations, Class of 1988”.

“It’s almost better than the first time”, Patience whispered, “if it weren’t the very last.” Hengist pressed her hand affectionately, but he, too, felt both happy and sad. There were only two tables set, and no teachers’ table at all. It seemed as if the teachers were to be seated between their students. “Not bad, let’s keep to the Dickets”, Hengist suggested. Anne and David caught the words and agreed quickly. The Slytherins, of course, gathered around Snape. But the other teachers also found seats where they were welcome. For some it took some time, though. Professor Dumbledore chose a place between John King and Julian Fairchild and their partners. “Maybe he tries to get some sense into King’s head”, Hengist suggested in a whisper. “That’s a bit late”, Anne answered tartly. They all laughed and seated themselves where Emerson and Holly Dicket already found their seats. “Good evening, good evening, we will meet soon again, but, I still enjoy your presence!”, Emerson greeted them jovially.

“What about Banks?”, Hengist asked bluntly. “I don’t enjoy his presence”, Emerson admitted ruefully. “But someone had to take care of the boy”, his wife grinned. “I wonder how this evening will pass”, Anne said thoughtfully. “I think Dumbledore will give a speech”, Patience told her, pointing discreetly to the headmaster. He had risen and stood now, waiting for silence in the Hall.

“Well, well, my dear students, colleagues and ghosts, this is the evening when we must take leave of our seventh year students. For seven long years you have been with us, sometimes annoying, sometimes amusing, mostly nice and agreeable.” He earned a few nervous giggles to that. “I have to say you were one of my favourite classes, and I will of course miss you all”, the headmaster went on. Patience smiled sadly. “I will miss the little quarrels between you and the tricks some of you so artfully did.” He twinkled towards the Malignant Magpies. Hengist blushed promptly. “Yes, yes, and so I may say… Let the feast begin!” Dumbledore clapped his hands twice and golden plates appeared on the tables filled with the most delicious food imaginable.

“The elves really surpassed themselves”, David acknowledged. For the next half hour there was silence in the Hall as everyone enjoyed the food. When the plates were cleaned away, Dumbledore gave a sign to the ghosts. They began o dance a minuet in midair as a surprise for the students and teachers. The music was supplied by Dumbledore’s wand. It looked fantastic, seeing Sir Nicholas and the Grey Lady leading the other ghosts in their old-fashioned but so very graceful dance. When the ghosts had finished, tremendous applause was their prize.

“Now, as I know that you do not like dancing minuets”, Dumbledore said amused, “I have hired some musicians to provide some music more to your taste, I hope. Miss Rhys, Mr Bantam, would you be so kind to start the ball with your respective partners?” Patience had to pretend to be coughing to hide her laughter. Ghewyn’s face had fallen. She had so much wanted to dance with David, and now the opening dance with him was spared for – Anne.

The band that appeared were the Patchwork Pumpkins, at the time the number one band of the Wizarding Radio. They played a slow song first so that the two couples had time to dance. Anne looked flattered and panicky at once. “Shouldn’t we go and join them?”, Patience asked after the third mouthed “Help” by her friend. Hengist shrugged and turned to Emerson for advice. “Go, and go quickly unless this festivity is going to get stuck”, the teacher chuckled. Hengist got up and took Patience’s hand. “Then come, my dear, let’s dance!”

Anne smiled relieved at the two when they started dancing. Following their example, most of the other student went to the dancefloor – and even some teachers joined them. Professor Dumbledore was dancing with Holly Dicket and Emerson had asked Sybil Trelawney. Patience grinned: “I predict she will step on his toes in two minutes”, she said to Hengist. He laughed. “I think the time span is too long, otherwise I believe your prediction.”

The ball became more of a funny party after an hour, which was due to the punch that Patience had taken care of to be something special. This time it didn’t levitate people. It made their eyes sparkle like stars and produced wraths of stars over the heads of those who had tasted it. Flitwick was delighted. Snape was less so. He had been sitting at the table watching the others dance for quite some time when he was disturbed in his gloom by Patience.

“At the Dickets’ wedding you danced well, sir”, she said calmly. “Would you repeat that tonight?” Hengist and Anne, being near enough to eavesdrop, turned to each other open-mouthed. Snape sighed. “Can’t you find a better substitute, Miss Wood?”, he asked wearily. “Actually no, not at the moment”, she grinned. Snape stood up reluctantly, but as he knew Patience well enough to know she was determined to make him dance and would try for hours if he didn’t do what she wanted, he chose to oblige her at once. Snape walked in front of Patience without looking once back at her.

“I could dance with you”, Mike offered passing her. “No, thanks, I asked him not the other way round”, Patience giggled. To her utmost delight the band had switched from fast music to slow ballads again. It would be even more embarrassing for Snape, and knowing that Fred and George had something planned she wanted to prepare Snape either for the worst or drive him away for the rest of the party. It depended, however, on his behaviour. At the moment he was perfectly pleasant because he didn’t talk but only danced. And Patience was very aware of his skill in doing so.

Anne and Hengist watched them. “I wonder what they are talking about”, Hengist said. “About nothing. Want to dance to eavesdrop?”, Anne offered. “Sure. I promised you a dance, didn’t I? But David was so happy to have you as a partner, I had no chance.” “And now you want to escape Eliza”, Anne laughed but let herself be dragged to the dancefloor. They danced close to Snape and Patience, but in fact there was nothing to be overheard. So they took to watching other people dance which proved to be much more amusing.

It was fun to see Mike and Nelly dance very tightly. Mike was grinning at Brian over Nelly’s head and Brian tried to make Catherine nestle her head against his shoulder just as Nelly had done with Mike. Equally funny it was to see Vargas, Cook and Banks. They were dancing stiffly – that is, Vargas was really graceful and pleasant to watch, but his cronies tried in vain to imitate the careless elegance of their brain. Jessa was obviously proud of having such an accomplished partner, but failed miserably in being his equal in style.

Banks was top of the worst dancers present. He had apologized at least a dozen times already for having trodden on Melanie’s feet. “Poor Melanie, her feet are already as big as small boats, so she really cannot afford to have them pressed even larger!”, Hengist commented heartlessly. Patience caught that and couldn’t help giggling. Snape frowned. “What is so amusing, Miss Wood?”, he wanted to know. “Just to watch the others dance,” Patience replied innocently. Snape was not at all calmed by that. “Every time you use that tone you have something in mind”, he said lowly. “Indeed? What should I have in mind?”

“She’s flirting with him! Is she out of her wits?”, Anne asked horrified. Hengist shrugged and steered Anne nearer to the odd couple.

“Something mischievous”, Snape accused hi fair partner. “Oh no, not this last evening. This should be all pleasure!”, Patience protested, her face the mask of complete honesty. Snape might have believed her after all of not at exactly this moment a giant BOOM made girls shriek and boys place themselves protective in front of them. Snape let go of Patience’s hand. “What was that?”, he asked in his most dangerous voice. Patience was pale and could only stammer she had no clue as to what that had been.

The solution came very soon. A shot of icy cold water hit Banks and Melanie and Cook and drenched them to the skin. Vargas and Jessa were showered with confetti instead and Snape himself only narrowly escaped an attack with glittering paper balls. “What a nice surprise!”, Dumbledore called through the Hall and started to applaud. Most people laughed and clapped as well, but the Slytherin victims and Snape weren’t happy at all.

Dumbledore looked over warningly. Exactly at this moment another bag exploded over Banks and the boy screamed: “I’m being glued to the ground!” Even if this was a bit exaggerated, it was true that some sticky mass had been thrown over Banks’ head. The next bag that opened was full of feathers. And then a voice called: “Now he’s tarred and feathered at last!”

The Malignant Magpies exchanged worried glances. They were sure they would be blamed instantly. “If this is the surprise”, Anne whispered without ending her sentence. “I just hope it is not their work”, Patience replied. “Miss Wood, Miss Symmons, Mr Alret, explain yourselves!”, Snape demanded furiously. “We have this time nothing to do with it”, Hengist assured the teacher calmly. “We could have the time and a motif, but it wasn’t us.” “And this I shall believe?”, Snape asked ironically. “Better do it, because we have no idea how to perform something like that”, Anne haughtily informed him. Snape silently turned to Patience.

“I do not know who it was or why it happened, but it certainly was nothing we had our fingers in.” “But you do not deny, Miss Wood, that Mr Banks is not your favourite?” “I do admit that readily, he isn’t my favourite at all and I wish him nothing good, so to speak, but I never thought of something like that. Tiny needles or animals in his bed or something like that – yes, but not such an open assault”, Patience explained. Dumbledore and McGonagall had stepped near. “I think she is right, and I fear I know who is behind it”, Dumbledore sighed. Hengist swallowed. He sincerely hoped they hadn’t got on the Weasley twins.

“It was all Peeves’ doing”, the headmaster said. “He was very angry about not being allowed to take part in his celebration, and Mr Banks must have told him it was right for him to stay away and been very unfriendly, so that Peeves thought of revenge. I’m sorry, Severus.”  The Malignant Magpies were almost bursting with subdued laughter. “Not bad”, Hengist chuckled. Anne wasn’t able to speak and Patience turned so not to see Banks standing there with feathers all over.

The party went on undisturbed again. When midnight drew near, Anne noticed her flowers became strangely warm. “Patience, check the Weasley flowers, quick!”, she urged her friend who was talking to Holly Dicket animatedly. Patience took up the bouquet. “What the deuce…”, she said but couldn’t go on. The flowers exploded into tiny stars and hearts and showered her and Holly completely. Anne’s flowers had burst into the same spectacle. “So this was the surprise”, Hengist said relieved.

“I will definitely miss Fred and George!” Anne stated. Patience nodded. Hengist grinned. “I don’t think we will ever get rid of them!” He whispered. Patience and Anne laughed. “Poor Roland!” Patience managed to say. “And doesn’t he look much better with all the feathers attached to him!” Anne said happily. “Will you dance with me Anne?” David asked. Anne shook her head. “Don’t be angry, but I definitely want to dance with Dumbledore, maybe Patience would…” Patience agreed and danced with David.

“They would make a nice couple, wouldn’t they?” Anne asked amused and strolled off to Dumbledore who was delighted to be asked to dance by a student. He was a wonderful dancer and fun to talk to. “So the malignant magpies will stick together and do advanced muggle studies. I hope you’ll play as many tricks at Oxford as you have done here!” He added smiling warmly. “Well the city and the university will have to watch out for us.” Anne agreed. “And Mr Banks.” Dumbledore added. Anne’s smile vanished. “You know when I could choose whom I never wanted to see again it would be Banks.” She informed the headmaster. “You’d rather meet professor Snape than Mr Banks – that is some news indeed. “What is going on in your head, Miss Symmons?” Dumbledore asked her.

She only shook her head. She was thinking about apologizing to Snape for all the dreadful things they had done but then again he had done as much as they had. “And what will you miss especially, Miss Symmons, apart from myself of course?” He asked curiously. “Miss? I’m not sure. Fred and George and some others but we will stay in contact and the teachers, yes, sure.” Anne thought aloud. “You are not sad to leave then?” He wanted to know. “No.” She replied happily. “It is time for something new and exciting now. It was great being here but it is over and it is good that it is over.” Dumbledore smiled. “Would you have preferred to have your prom ball at Hazelnut Forreth?” He asked. Anne shook her head violently. “No.” She only said and then the dance was over. “I wonder will you dance with professor Snape just as Miss Wood has done?” He asked her before he let her go. “Me and – him? No way!” Dumbledore smiled and went back to the other teachers.

“I want to dance with professor Flitwick, as well.” Anne burst out when she had returned to her friends. David looked unhappily at her. “You can dance with one of the female teachers to escape your fanclub. I promise the next dance will be yours again and then I’ll dance with Hagrid!” Anne informed him. David sighed but obeyed. He took her hand and accompanied her to the teachers. By that time professor Snape had joined them. David stopped. Anne turned to him. “What is it, David?” She whispered. “Nothing, Anne, nothing.” He gave her a smile and courageously passed the teacher. Anne danced with Flitwick while David had chosen Madam Hooch as a partner.

The evening passed pleasantly and at about 2 am all went to bed. In front of the Fat Lady David said good night to Patience, Hengist and Anne. When he had gone the Malignant Magpies wanted to enter the common room. “Anne?” A voice called from behind a statue. She hesitated. Vargas showed himself. She was relieved. “It’s you, what do you want?” She asked harshly. “I wanted to say good bye.” He replied. “Well you have done that, good bye.” Anne said. “We’ll go inside.” Patience whispered and dragged Hengist into the common room.

Anne wanted to follow them but the door was closed before she had reached it. Vargas approached her. “I will miss you, Anne. I know you won’t believe me, but I really like you and I wish we could have been friends – if only you had been in Slytherin!” He whispered. “Well, you managed well without me!” Anne replied friendly. He shook his head. “Every other girl would have said, we could have been friends – apart from all this of belonging to one house and…” He stopped. “Let’s face it, we both could have changed if we had wanted to.” Anne mused. Vargas nodded. “And who knows, maybe in another life we will be friends!” She went on. “Yes, in the next life. I hope we will be friends then.” He agreed. “We won’t see each other again, will we?” Anne asked carefully. He shook his head. “No, from the bottom of my heart I wish that we will never see each other again, Anne.” He whispered looking in her warm eyes.

She smiled weakly. “You know, you could kick Banks out of muggle studies and come with us!” Anne joked. Vargas gave a short laugh. “He’s my friend, Anne. And besides…” Again he stopped. “And besides what?” Anne asked. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Will you promise me something, Anne?” He wanted to know. She shrugged. “Don’t get yourself into trouble – I’m talking about real trouble, Anne.” “Well, I will try.” She said feeling badly. He smiled. “Good bye, Anne.” He said. “Good bye.” She replied and turned to enter the common room. When she had closed the door he whispered, “And don’t get yourself killed.”

In the Gryffindor bedroom conversation was going on. “Only one week and we’ll be gone forever”, Anne yawned. “And then we’ll go where?”, Patience murmured, caressing a sleepy Bethesda. “oxford!”, Anne answered gleefully. “Oxford”, Patience agreed. “Catherine, what are you going to do?” Catherine giggled in the dark. “My parents will allow me to travel through the USA together with Nelly for a year”, she revealed. “Wow!”, Anne said amused. “And Ghewyn?” “I will start at the Ministry of Magic, of course”, Ghewyn answered. “And now please hold your tongue, I want to sleep.” “at least that I won’t miss”, Anne whispered and Patience answered: “I know.”

 

An idea

“We should have time together”, Hengist thought aloud. “Yeah, we should: Just imagine not having to see each other 24 hours a day!”, Anne joked. “No, I mean, we  should spend these last holidays of our lives together”, Hengist explained. “I wanted to invite you to meet my great-grandaunt Caroline”, Patience revealed amused. “That’s not exactly what I was talking about. Why don’t we go somewhere?” Anne and Patience looked at each other. “Okay”, Patience slowly said. “But I have to be home when Auntie Caroline arrives!” Hengist shrugged. “Won’t be too difficult. Where shall we go?” “I don’t know”, Patience confessed. Anne summoned an enormous map of Britain. “Let’s see”, she grinned. The map began to squeak names as soon as she touched it with her wand.

“Dulwich!”, the map shrieked. Patience and Hengist burst into laughter. “No way!”, Patience told Anne. “Well, it does sound a bit… dull”, Anne agreed and let her wand wander around again. “Bocking!” Hengist snorted with laughter and shook his head vehemently. “Mortlake!” “I’m not wanting to die, thanks”, Anne herself rejected the place. “Cox Goldaming!” “Sounds like a Quidditch site”, Patience smiled. Anne looked at her. “Then we definitely won’t go there!” “Monkwearmouth!” “Oh yeah, I’ll join the monks”, Hengist grinned. “You’re really difficult to serve, you two”, Anne mockingly groaned. The next suggestion of the map, Ogbourne St Andrews, amused the Malignant Magpies but somehow it didn’t sound very interesting.

“Wandsworth!”, the map finally cried. “That’s it!”, Anne exclaimed. Patience nodded, and Hengist beamed at the map. “That sounds very good indeed!” Wandsworth was a southern part of London, between Richmond Park and Wimbledon. “We can visit Diagon Alley any time and don’t have a long way to Oxford. It’s perfect”, Anne stated satisfied.

 

The three students went home at the end of their final year. Feeling a bit sad and forlorn they still looked forward to their holiday. They had agreed on meeting one week into the holidays at ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ in Diagon Alley. Hengist was late. Patience and Anne had been waiting for almost half an hour when he finally arrived. “Where have you been?” Anne asked. “Re-packing!” Hengist replied. “Did your mother check your suitcase and wasn’t pleased?” Patience laughed. “Or maybe he forgot his long underwear.” Anne mused. “Or he might have forgotten he is a wizard, of age, and allowed to pack by magic. So he first packed the muggle way and then had to undo it to redo it magically.” Patience suggested. Hengist shook his head. “No girls, well, listen: I’ve got something to tell you. We won’t go to Wandsworth.” “ What do you mean, we’re not going to Wandworth. I’ve packed and I want to go on a holiday, NOW!” Anne complained.

“I didn’t say we weren’t going on a holiday. Only we won’t go to Wandsworth.” Hengist revealed. Patience sat down on her suitcase. “Where do we go then?” She asked cautiously. “We’ll make a Grand Tour through the country.” He replied enthusiastically. “My parents invited us.” “Hang on. You’re not saying that your parents will accompany us!” Anne asked horrified. “Not that your parents aren’t nice, Hengist, but we wanted to have a holiday of our own!” Patience explained. Anne nodded. Hengist grinned. “No, they won’t come. They just pay for it!” “And why can’t they pay for a trip to Wandsworth?” Anne asked angrily. “They thought it would be more interesting for us and safer for the muggles.” Hengist said. “You sound just like professor Dicket.” Patience stated amused. Anne sat down on her suitcase as well. “And how will we get there?” “I have a driving license!” Hengist reminded her. “We’ve got an apparating licence.” Patience remarked.

“But it will be a bit suspicious if we just pop up.” Hengist thought aloud. “And besides you should try to get used to the muggle way!” He added. “Says who?” Patience and Anne asked in one voice. “Says I! Mind you I’ll have to cover up for all of your mistakes.” “So professor Dicket send you a letter as well?” Anne asked in a surprised voice. “What letter?” Hengist wanted to know. “Telling us to behave as muggle-like as possible. And to keep a low profile.” She explained. “No!” Hengist replied. “I got one as well.” Patience revealed. “Seems like Dicket thinks you need it.” Hengist teased them. “And I got another letter from Mr. Weasley telling me to collect as many muggle artefacts as possible!” Anne added. Patience grinned. “I wonder if Hengist will count as an artefact!” “Now, anyone who wants to go to the country should follow me now!” Hengist announced and slowly walked away. Reluctantly Patience and Anne followed the muggle-born boy.

They left Diagon Alley through ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ and arrived in the busy muggle world. Hengist had borrowed his father’s car and parked it at the Mall. He led his friends there and helped them to put the luggage into the trunk. “So, when will we leave?” Anne asked curiously. “Right now.” Hengist replied opening one of the car’s doors for her. “But I need to tell my parents where we are.” Patience protested. “You can send them an owl when we have arrived.” Hengist suggested. “Better an owl than by muggle mail, because the postman doesn’t know our house.” Patience murmured. “Since the Munchkins don’t care where I am anyway, I won’t bother to tell them. In fact they didn’t even know where we wanted to go in the first place.” Anne happily stated.

They all entered the car. Hengist turned the ignition key, put in the gear and let the clutch slip. Nothing happened. “I thought you could drive a car!” Anne observed critically. “Maybe it’s broken!” Hengist thought aloud. “What’s that thing for?” Patience asked pointing at the hand brake. “Right. The hand brake which you have to release before you can drive.” He released it. “O, we’re driving!” Anne observed. “How could that happen?” She asked. “He must have used magic secretly.” Patience whispered. A long talk about cars and how they function followed.

In the late afternoon they arrived at a cosy little country hotel in Warwickshire. Hengist approached the reception desk. No one was there. Hengist looked around for somebody. “Maybe we should call?” Patience suggested. “And what would you call?” Anne wanted to know. “Here are customers?” Patience tried. Hengist snorted. “You keep quiet, both of you!” Luckily an elderly woman hurried to meet them. “Yes, sir?” She said. Hengist smiled at her. “I think there are rooms booked for ‘Alret’?” The woman opened a large book. “And now she’s reading.” Anne whispered to Patience. Hengist turned. “Shut up.” He hissed.

“Would that be ‘Mr. Hengist Alret’?” The receptionist inquired. “Yes, madam.” “Well then, we have a beautiful room for two and a lovely single room for you and the young ladies.” The receptionist explained. “Follow me, please.” She led the Magpies up a staircase and opened two doors to her right. “Here we have the room for you and your – wife?” “I didn’t know that you brought your wife!” Anne observed laughingly. Patience was unable to speak. Hengist blushed deeply. “No, this room is for the two girls. I’ll take the single room.” “I see.” The receptionist replied. “I wish you a pleasant stay. If you need something feel free to call.” “Call what? Here are customers?” Anne joked when the receptionist had left. Hengist shot an angry look at her.

 “I suggest we take our luggage to the rooms and then meet again in ten minutes.” He ordered. “Okay.” Patience cheerfully said and entered the room. When she looked at the cushions she saw chocolates lying there. “Oh look! They must have a really good house-elf here.” Patience exclaimed. Through the still open door Hengist stormed enraged. “Watch your words!” “What did I do?” Patience asked innocently. “Try that with Flitwick!” He answered. “Okay, I promise to be a good girl.” She smiled. In the meantime Anne had reached for her wand and doubled the little piece of chocolate. “And what do you think you’re doing?” He asked angrily. “I doubled it. And it worked perfectly.” Anne proudly said. “You cannot double your bedtime treat!” he scolded her. “Well, obviously she could!” Patience observed. “What I meant was that you should not double your bedtime treat or anything else!” Hengist explained. “You want me to undo it?” Anne offered. “NO!” Hengist bellowed. “Want me to undo it then?” Patience asked. “I wish I was Snape.” He sighed. “Really?” The two girls asked. Hengist only shot them a furious glance and left – however not without a last reminder: “No more magic!”

The next morning they didn’t get up too early. At breakfast Hengist announced the program for the day. “My parents want us to visit two museums around here. The first on is a museum of Celtic times approximately an hour away. The second one is a Roman museum not far from the first one.” “Hengist that does sound a bit boring, do you know that?” Patience complained. “Your parents, what do they have to do with our holiday?” Anne wanted to know. “They pay for it.” He reminded her. “So that means that we have to do what they want us to do?” Patience thought aloud. “They had good intentions…” Hengist started. “Who hasn’t?” Anne asked boldly. “You Know Who!” Patience answered. “Pardon? I don’t know whom you’re talking about.” Hengist said puzzled. “You Know Who!” Anne repeated. “No, I don’t know who!” Hengist said much slower. “He Who Must Not Be Named!” Patience explained. “Oh, right that You Know Who!” Hengist exclaimed. “Well, then let’s start with those museums.” Patience gave in. The three got into the car and Hengist drove them to the museums.

“Look a centaur!” Anne exclaimed happily. “Two centaurs in fact!” Hengist added. They bought their tickets and started for their tour. Patience was a bit bored because she knew most of it already thanks to her father. “Do you really think they wore no clothes in a smithy?” Anne asked disbelievingly. “Well, if they did, I know where I would have ended my shopping tours.” Patience whispered. “Me too.” Hengist declared. “What kind of animal is that supposed to be?” Patience asked. “Oxen, I think.” Hengist mused. “Looks more like giraffes to me.” Anne thought aloud. “With horns?” Patience asked. “We can compare them if Hengist’s parents put a zoo on our list as well.” Anne replied looking at Hengist who shook his head.

Entering the second floor Patience spotted a huge photograph of an ornamented golden comb. “Look a Hippogriff!” She cried. “SHHHHHHH!” Hengist hissed and nudged her. “Ouch, what was that for?” Patience inquired. “Muggles do not know Hippogriffs.” He told her. “Why do they depict them then?” She wanted to know. “Don’t say our muggle-boy doesn’t know the answer to this one.” Anne teased him. He shook his head and went on. “You have to read that!” He suddenly exclaimed. Too impatient to wait for them to finish Hengist read the text aloud: “The historian Herodot described the Scythe habit of sitting in a tent with a fire burning with hashish. He assumed that the Scythe were so delighted to have a sauna that they shrieked with glee. But he never tried it himself. Or otherwise his report wouldn’t have been so naïve.” “I’m glad I live today and don’t have to face any fighting women!” Hengist declared. As a result he got nudged from both sides. “Well girls, do you want to have one breast cut?” He asked with a grin. Both Patience and Anne went on without saying another word.

“Now girls, we’ll go to the open-air part of the museum.” Hengist ordered. “Go as in go by car or in go by foot?” Patience asked suspiciously. “Go as in walk.” He replied. “How far is it?” Anne inquired. “About half an hour.” He pointed to the street. “Bright sunshine inviting for a walk, c’mon.” Reluctantly Patience and Anne followed Hengist. “Are you sure this is the right way?” Anne wanted to know. “We’ll try this first.” He only replied. Patience stopped abruptly. “I won’t go further on this street.” She declared. “Me neither.” Anne agreed and stopped as well. “Then I’ll go without you.” He went on. Patience and Anne waited. “Do you really think he will go there without us?” Anne asked worriedly. “No, never.” Patience assured her. “How do you know?” Anne wanted to know. “He’s coming back!” Patience pointed at their young fellow. “It’s no good walking we need to go by car.” He reported. So by car they went.

“These barrows look like…” Anne started. “Like what?” Patience asked. “You know what!” Anne replied. “No, I don’t!” Patience frowned. “Female breasts!” Hengist exclaimed. “SHHHHHHH! Not so loud!” Anne scolded him. “There’s nothing immoral about saying ‘female breasts’!” He retorted. “Stop bickering you two!” Patience said. They entered. The open-air museum was an area with reconstructed Celtic houses and parts of the defence walls. “The Great Hall!” Patience observed. “Ours at Hogwarts was bigger!” Anne whispered so that Hengist couldn’t hear her. “And cosier.” Patience agreed.

”Look, another room, let’s check what’s in there!” he entered the little room and returned immediately. “What nothing in there?” Patience asked surprised. “No!” Patience and Anne had a look. It was the wardrobe. In the meantime Hengist had gone to observe the oven. “This thing’s big enough to bake someone in it .” He observed thoughtfully. “Did you think of someone in particular – like Snape?” Anne asked. “What about you’re future mother-in-law?” Patience suggested. “I’d rather roast Snape!” Anne thought aloud. “I’d rather roast Roland.” Patience contradicted her. “Maybe we’ll find one that is big enough for both of them.” Hengist contributed to the discussion. “And after we have burned them we’ll put them on the wagon out there.” Patience planned. “Why bother about that?” Anne wanted to know. “Because you’ll need the oven for bread!” Hengist reminded her. They had a look at the other houses almost stumbled over a lizard and left.

“I want to climb one of the barrows!” Patience said wishfully. “What would Freud say to that?” Hengist mused. “Who is Freud?” Patience and Anne asked in one voice. “Never mind.” He only whispered. They went to the barrows. Luckily there was a staircase leading up one of them. “I’m the king of the world!” Hengist said pathetically. “You are what?” Patience wanted to know. “The king of the world.” He repeated. “You wish.” Anne said.

The next museum they wanted to visit was hard to find. “There, there on the right!” Patience called but it was too late for Hengist to react. “Don’t worry, I’ll turn around!” He assured them. “This cannot be their parking space. There’s only room for three cars.” He observed. “But it must be since there is no other sign!” Patience replied. “Well, why don’t you simply park your car here since there is a free parking space?” Anne asked bored. Together they entered the museum. The cashier told them to start downstairs and to work their way up. They did as they were told. “Oh, look. You can touch a Roman soldiers luggage! You can even lift it.” Anne said trying to lift it. “Well, if you are strong enough.” She added after a short pause. “Locomotor Luggage!” Patience whispered but without moving her wand. Hengist shot her an angry look. When they went on they came to a wardrobe full of ancient Roman clothes. “You can actually try them on.” Patience said thoughtfully. “Hengist wear that toga please.” “Nope!” Hengist flatly refused.

“Look, they have documentaries!” Anne exclaimed leading them to a couple of TV sets with headphones. She put one on. However they could not fully concentrate on the film because a muggle couple tried on some of the clothes. "I didn’t know there were films were used to escape censure.” Hengist mused. “Unfortunately it didn’t work all of the time!” Anne remarked. “Well, I don’t think women need to run around in their nightgowns!” Patience giggled. “I like the male costumes!” Hengist revealed. “Me too!” Anne agreed. As the museum was only a small one they had finished with it pretty early. They went back to their hotel. They had a wonderful dinner and afterwards talked till late into the night.

The next day they went to the nearest town to do some shopping and send some owls. They discovered a cookie factory where they got sweets for the next couple of days. Additionally they climbed a watch tower. Afterwards they went to an old graveyard which had been turned into a park. Patience had sent an owl to her family telling them about the change of plan. Anne had sent an owl card to her favourite family: the Weasleys. Hengist earlier had sent a muggle postcard to his parents.

The afternoon they began to write an essay Emerson Dicket had requested before starting advanced muggle studies. They had just finished when an owl from Arthur Weasley arrived. It crashed into the closed window and lay like dead on the ground. Anne summoned him very much to the disapproval of Hengist though she had told him it would be stranger to have a dead owl lying underneath the window. However Errol wasn’t dead. He delivered his letter and flew back home. “This one’s from Mr. Weasley!” Anne told them happily. He asks us to collect as many muggle peculiarities as possible! As if I would forget!” She added.

“What did your parents plan for this day?” Patience asked at breakfast the next morning. “Let me see.” Hengist said rummaging his pocket for the list. “Ah, here. Today we are going on a painter’s tour. Anne choked. “We are doing what?” She exclaimed. “We will have a look at two museums showing paintings of Otto Dix and providing some additional information on his life.” Hengist explained. “And we can have lunch at a waterfall.” Anne who didn’t enjoy paintings too much decided to wait for Patience’s reaction. “Hengist that sounds great.” Patience said enthusiastically. Anne almost fell of her chair. But she decided to give in and to suffer silently. On their way to the first museum Hengist looked at his watch and said: “What do you think about visiting the waterfall first?” Anne agreed immediately. The waterfall proved to be magnificent. “Look so much water!” Anne exclaimed fascinated. “Right, and you only see what is on the surface!” Hengist added. Anne stared at him. “What was that?” She asked. “Never mind, only an old muggle joke.” He explained.

Finally they decided to leave again. “There’s a beautiful parking area. I’ll park the car here. Then we’ll go – on foot – to the museum.” Hengist ordered. They went along a street trying to find the museum which was just as effectively hidden as the other two before. “Maybe it is unplottable!” Patience suggested. Hengist burst into laughter. “That’s why it is on the map.” At last They reached it. It was filled with paintings of Otto Dix. The pictures were very impressive. Most of them were landscapes but some very strange portraits. The magpies went through the different rooms sometimes fascinated sometimes disgusted. “It’s boring if they do not move!” Anne whispered. Patience nodded fervently. “We should go to the town hall next there are two wall paintings by the same artist.” Hengist suggested. Anne rolled her eyes but trotted after them. The wall paintings were just as boring since they did not move either.

After they had left the town hall they decided to have an ice cream. Of course Hengist had to pay as neither of the girls was good at dealing with muggle money. They returned to the car and went to the second museum which was to everybody surprise hidden as well. There they learnt a lot about the life of the artist. “This artist really like to be in the centre of things – and of photos!” Patience remarked amused. Hengist grinned and pointed at an especially large photo. “Here the centre of things is rather his underwear poking out of his trousers.” He grinned. Anne began to laugh: “And his zipper is even open.” Laughingly they left the museum.

They returned to their hotel just in time to avoid the thunderstorm coming up. When they were at dinner something green and hot exploded next to Patience and Anne. “What was that?” Patience shrieked jumping of her chair. “An explosion.” Anne said shocked. “That was no usual explosion.” Hengist slowly said. “Wands out!” “What for?” Patience wanted to know. “Just in case…” Anne whispered. “In case it was an attack?” “Yes.” Hengist replied. But nothing more happened. “I wonder what that was!” Hengist murmured. When a soft ‘plop’ announced the appearance of Emerson Dicket. “Are you okay?” He asked at once. “Yes, why shouldn’t we?” Anne answered puzzled. “Because there has been an incident involving dark magic.” “It wasn’t us!” Patience declared at once. Dicket turned to her. “I didn’t think so, Dumbledore doesn’t think so and best of all the Ministry neither does.” He explained soothingly. “So who was it?” Hengist inquired. “We have no idea.” Emerson confessed. “You and your muggle holiday!” Anne complained. “Better here than in the wizarding world.” Emerson sternly replied. “It is much easier to detect dark magic around here.” “Whoever has done it must be really stupid.” Patience thought aloud. “Why attack us?” Emerson stared at her piercingly. “There might be reasons.” As soon as Emerson had left the three went to bed.

Patience and Anne were woken by the wrapping of a beak on glass. “What’s that?” Anne asked sleepily. Patience was already at the window and took a letter from an owl. “It’s from my Dad.” She said: “He tells me we simply have to see the reconstructed prehistoric buildings somewhere near.” “Yippie, no more art!” Anne exclaimed happily. “Well maybe prehistoric art!” Patience reminded her. “I won’t mind.” Anne assured her. “But how do we get Hengist to abandon his own plans for the day?” Patience asked. “We’ll have to make him believe that it was his idea.” Anne mused. “Wait!” Patience said. “I have gathered some flyers of museums around here. There should be one describing this.” She searched her papers for it and finally found a green flyer. “Here it is. We’ll put it on his place on top of these other flyers and then he will decide to go there!” Patience explained. “And if that does not work we still can put the imperius curse on him.” Anne concluded.

They did as Patience had suggested. And indeed Hengist found the flyer. “Oh, that’s something we could do today!” He said. Anne stared at Patience. She shrugged. “I didn’t think he would give in so easily.” Patience whispered and Anne nodded. “C’mon girls, I heard your little discussion through the walls! And in fact, this is exactly what my parents had suggested.” He revealed. Hengist drove them to the site of the museum. They entered. And then had to wait again for a little while because there would be an introduction to the exhibition. After this brief introduction the visitors were allowed to find their way alone. “I wonder how they got the houses straight.” Anne thought aloud. Instinctively she looked at Hengist to get an answer.

But to everybody’s surprise it was Patience who answered. “They measured with striding.” “How comes you know that?” Hengist wanted to know. Patience grinned. “My Dad’s an historian, did you forget?” they walked along every house and had a look into a couple of them. In one of the houses a film was shown about building one. In others there were scenes of everyday life to be seen. But most amusing was a man in stone age clothes who produced flint stone blades. Patience and Anne almost fell into the water seeing the proud expression on the man’s face when he had finished a blade. Hengist dragged the two away in order to prevent any further disturbance. But soon the two returned to watch the man make fire. Unfortunately a visitor had broken the stone age fire-making device. “Shall we help him by magic?” Patience suggested.

Hengist shook his head. “He’ll try with other instruments I guess.” And as always he had been right. However neither Patience nor Anne could see anything because other visitors blocked their view. So after a couple of minutes seeing nothing they decided to go into the exhibition of stone age artefacts. “A giant potion’s cauldron!” Patience exclaimed. Hengist groaned. “I bet Snape would like that!” Anne whispered. “I don’t think so. It doesn’t fulfil the standard.” Patience contradicted her.” Will you two please stop it!” Hengist complained. “Yes Hengist, we’re sorry Hengist!” Patience and Anne said in one voice. Hengist sighed and trod of.

Before they left they wanted to buy some souvenirs. Patience intended to increase the stone collection of her brother Oliver while Anne got hold of a couple of muggle postcards. Hengist bought a jigsaw puzzle. However they had to wait for quite a while because a very annoying family blocked the way to the cashier desk. The little daughter had grabbed all of the stones though she was only allowed to buy two. When the mother asked the cashier for some more she even got hold of most of the rest. Nevertheless Patience was able to get a pair of beautiful stones for Verres.

Anne and Hengist had been ready to pay for almost half an hour but the family had sent the cashier away again very much to the annoyance of the two. When they had finally left the three friends made sure to avoid them. Together they went to a lake and had their lunch. Anne began to throw stones into the water. “You shouldn’t do that. You could wake a giant squit.” Patience said anxiously. “Ridiculous!” Anne replied and threw another stone which hopped over the water surface. On their way back the made a little stop at a beautiful church which contained nice little angels with unfitting faces. Satsified they went back to their hotel where they spent a quiet evening.

“We’ll do a castle today.” Hengist announced at breakfast the next morning. “With ghosts?” Anne exclaimed joyfully. “No, Anne. We will visit a muggle castle. Muggles have no ghosts.” He said slowly. “But what about Canterville Ghost?” Anne wanted to know. “Who?” Patience asked. “Canterville Ghost – that’s a story by Graham Greene.” Anne explained. “Exactly – it’s a story. There are no real ghosts in the muggle world!” Hengist emphasized. “But there buildings with muggle ghosts.” Patience protested. “Yes, but muggles explain those phenomena away.” “So there will be no ghost?” Anne asked and Hengist shook his head.

They had to climb up a very steep street before they could enter the castle. The first room they entered contained virtually nothing but a poem painted on the walls. “Ah, it’s about the foundation of the castle.” Patience explained. Hengist had already proceeded to the next room. “Girls, move on, come into the watch room.” He called them. Not too reluctantly the two followed their master’s call. “That’s a boring and dark room!” Anne observed. “Well, dearest Anne, they didn’t have electricity back then.” Hengist teased her. When they entered the Renaissance Room Patience exclaimed: “HERETIC!” Both Anne and Hengist stared questioningly at her.

“Look at this shelf!” Patience said and pointed at a shelf on the right wall. “There are books!” Anne said. Patience nodded vigorously. “These are old books. Very old books. You have to treat them with respect and not just put them on a shelf anywhere.” She declared enraged. “I bet these are fake.” Anne replied. “But I can see pages in them.” Hengist placed a hand on Patience’s shoulder. “We use old books in Hogwarts every day.” He pointed out. “You mean we used old books.” Anne added. Patience sighed. “But these books are kept well. And do not lie openly around.” “Indeed some of them even lie in chains.” Anne remarked. “There is not much use in discussing this further. Let’s go on.” Hengist suggested. So of they went to the next room.

“Another picture gallery!” Anne exclaimed. “No! Rather a shop for armoury.” Hengist grinned. Patience looked at a beautiful sword. “How much do you think this is?” “Bet they’ll tell you at the souvenir shop.” Anne mused. “Oh, do you really think I can by them?” Patience asked surprise. “Well, from what I have learned about Muggles so far, they try to make money with everything!” Anne concluded. “The worst thing is, Anne, that you are most probably right.” Hengist admitted. “Don’t worry, wizards aren’t any better.” Patience assured him. Although the armoury contained lots of swords, spears, halberds and armours it could not fascinate the magpies longer than ten minutes. In one of the adjacent rooms a film was shown. Curiously the three friends joined the audience.

“Somehow I feel more and more uncomfortable in here.” Anne admitted in a whisper. Hengist put his hand on her arm to calm her down. “At least they do not talk about people with red hair.” Patience whispered. “But women in general.” Anne complained. “There were a few men executed.” Patience pointed out. Just at that moment the film showed an engraving of a witch riding on a broomstick. “Ah, now, that’s ridiculous!” Patience exclaimed. “But how do they know that! Didn’t they know about the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.” Anne said disbelievingly. “Mind you, not everybody is as careful as you two.” Hengist remarked. Patience who had just opened her mouth to say something about the impossibility of riding a broom like this for Quidditch closed it quickly again. After the film they crestfallenly left the room.

“Do you really think we should go to the torture chamber?” Patience whispered. “Well, they won’t torture us – I hope.” Hengist replied. “YOU HOPE!” Anne shouted a little too loud. “You hope.” She repeated a little more quietly. “That was only a joke.” Hengist assured her. As they were not tortured they also had the possibility of having a look at the treasury. “Wait a moment, we must have taken the wrong turn somewhere.” Patience said looking around. “Well, this is definitely nothing compared to Gringotts.” Anne observed. They stared disbelievingly at five depictures of saints, two chalices, two sculptures and two sheets of music. Disappointed they left this room for the souvenir shop. “What muggle artefact do you think I should bring Mr. Weasley?” Anne asked in her normal voice.

“Medieval.” Patience corrected her quickly. “Never mind.” Anne whispered. “Right, never mind the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.” Hengist warned her. Anne shrugged apologetically. “What do you think about this for Mr. Weasley?” Patience asked. “A miniature-canon?” Anne asked in a surprised voice. “That’s not a canon.” Hengist corrected. “It’s a pencil sharpener.” “Yeah, Hengist, whatever that may be!” Anne replied. “I’ll explain you later.” He promised. Having purchased muggle artefacts the Magpies went out into the sunlit street again.

“Oh look, nostalgic Teddy bears!” Patience exclaimed and walked over to a shop window. “Shall we go in?” Anne asked. “Oh yes, can’t we Hengist?” Patience begged. “Of course, but only if you stop violating the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.” Hengist said. Both girls agreed to that. On the first floor was an exhibition of old toys which was immediately attended by our three friends. The first room showed a Teddy theatre with several bears preparing dough. “Do you know what that melody reminds me of?” Patience said thoughtfully. Hengist shrugged. Anne grinned. “I think I know what you mean: Potion cauldron bubble!” “What?” Hengist asked. Patience and Anne exchanged a glance. Then they began to sing: “Potion cauldron bubble, don’t bring us into trouble, you will the following things need, for a potion perfect and neat: basil and bug, wormwood and luck, water and wood, these will make the potion good.” “So much to the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy.” Hengist sighed, unnerved. To prevent any further damage Hengist led the two back to the hotel.

“You want us to climb a mountain?” Anne exclaimed over her bowl of cereals. “I didn’t say you’d have to climb.” Hengist intervened. “Do you mean we are allowed to use our brooms?” Patience enthusiastically exclaimed. “By no means I will mount my broom!” Anne stated. “You will not have to mount your broom.” Hengist assured her. “There’s a cable railway leading up to the top.” “Does it also go back again?” Patience asked in mock concern. “I will put you in detention Miss Wood if you keep behaving like that.” Hengist said, trying in vain to imitate professor Snape. Anne who had a had a look at the map in the meantime asked another question: “But how are we to get there anyway? It’s too far away to go by car, I’d say.” Hengist nodded. “First we’ll go by train and then take a ship.” He explained. Both girls agreed to that.

The journey was fun until they arrive at the cable railway station. “Are you sure 80 people fit in such a small cabin?” Anne asked sceptically. “Well, I assume they know what they do.” “YOU ASSUME!” Anne shouted angrily. “How do I know?” Hengist retorted. “How do you know, well, it’s you who is the…” She paused and then continued in a whisper not to violate the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy again. “…muggleborn.” “That doesn’t mean that I know everything!” He defended himself. “It worked so far. I think it highly unlikely that the cabin which contains us will fall.” He added. “Anyway we could disapparate out of it.” Patience whispered.

Shaking with fear they drove up the mountain. When the train passed a post the cabin swung dangerously. “And we really have to go down with this thing?” Anne wanted to know. “Well, you are free to walk down there.” Hengist replied. “But maybe, we’ll simply try to get a seat next time. Now stop complaining, girls, and enjoy the view!” He advised them. A splendid view soothed Anne and Patience effectively. “Look, the boats seem so small!” Anne exclaimed. “Ships!” Hengist corrected her. “Didn’t you tell us there was a zoo up here?” Patience enquired looking around. “Yes, if the ladies would follow me please” He said and went towards a huge sign reading ‘entrance’. Patience and Anne followed. “Look, an Easter Bunny!” Patience said with glee. “Actually I’d prefer if it was a normal hare. I had enough of Easter.” Anne whispered rubbing her right arm.

Hengist frowned but did not dare to ask. “Do you think Snape would like it if I sent him a Bezoar?” Patience asked grinning. “Where would you get one?” Hengist wanted to know. Patience pointed at the goats behind him. “I think he’d rather prefer to never hear of us again – and vice versa.” Anne mused. “Those muggle animals look really strange!” Patience remarked having a close look at a pig. “And you think Weavils look better?” Hengist asked incredulously. “Yes!” Patience assured him. “Do you think I could get something like that for Mr. Weasley?” Anne wanted to know. “NO!” Hengist replied immediately. “What are those animals with the horn?” Patience wanted to know. “Deer!” Hengist replied. “Yes, I like you too, dear, but what are…” “Deer.” Hengist repeated. “They are called ‘deer’. “ He explained. “Quick, come over here they have Nifflers.” Anne shouted

“That’s a groundhog, dear!” “As in the animal?” Patience asked. “What animal?” Anne wanted to know. “Those with the horns over there.” Patience explained. Totally unnerved Hengist left the zoo closely followed by his dear friends. “Do we have to take the train back?” Anne enquired. “Yes, Hengist, can’t we just apparate?” Patience seconded her. “No, you are to walk or to take the train No other options.” He warned them. “Then I’ll buy something for Mr. Weasley first.” Anne concluded and disappeared. A couple of minutes later she re-appeared. “Look, I found an enormous wand.” She proudly said. “The poor owl that will have to carry this.” Patience giggled “I can shrink it.” Anne suggested. Silently Hengist led them to the station. After a relatively comfortable journey down the mountain the Magpies went back by ship. That they fell into their beds.

“Today, we’ll see even more animals. Hengist announced at breakfast. “First we’ll visit a monkey area and afterwards a petting zoo.” “Why do your parents want you to visit animals?” Anne asked suspiciously. Hengist looked at her with faked innocence. “I beg your pardon?” “She means you’re always in danger around animals, so it’s not very loving to make you go near them.” Patience explained. “I’ve never heard of anyone being eaten by a monkey!” Hengist said indignantly. “Congratulations, then you’ll be the first one!” Anne told him. Hengist decided not to answer her.

When they arrived at the monkey park, Patience frowned: “On the roof is no monkey.” Hengist laughed. “Not exactly, no.” “A stork,” Anne said knowledgably. “We wouldn’t have guessed,” Patience mumbled. “C’mon, girls, in there are even more storks.” Hengist urged. “And monkeys.” Patience added. They were the first to visit that morning. First they stopped at a little lake to look for toads and fish. Hengist had to tighten his grip around Mungus in his jacket pocket to prevent the toad jumping into the lake. “Could we move on?” He asked. But just when Anne and Hengist had turned, Patience exclaimed: “There are sharks in here!” “You’re kidding.” Anne promptly retorted. “No. Look at them.” Patience pointed excitedly at some fish in the water raising their dorsal fin.” “A little small for a shark.” Hengist remarked. “Anyway, sharks can’t fold their dorsal fin.” Anne added. Patience grinned. “Pity.”

They walked on until they came to a fenced area. “Do you think we’re supposed to enter?” Anne asked curiously. “Well, if it’s not locked, we’ll enter,” Hengist decided. “What do you think that Popcorn is for?” Patience wondered, pointing at a barrel full of popcorn. “Food!” Hengist exclaimed, grabbing a handful of it. “For us?” Patience teased him. “No. For the monkeys,” Anne patiently explained. Hengist looked disappointed. And indeed when they had entered carefully, the first monkey arrived and begged for some food. Anne nicked some of Hengist’s popcorn and offered it to the little creature who took it gratefully. “Urgh! How can you let a monkey touch you hand?” Patience asked disgustedly. “It’s not too bad, it’s only a little wet. Take some of the popcorn and try for yourself,” Anne suggested. Reluctantly, Patience followed the advice.

It really was not too bad, but Patience decided that this would be the first and last time of such close contact with a monkey. Hengist wanted to try, however, he was held back by the two girls. When all the popcorn had gone, either eaten by the monkeys or by Hengist, the Magpies left for their next destination. On their way out, they had to pass a little lake with frogs and toads. Before Hengist could stop him, Mungus had escaped. “No!” Hengist yelled and was about to walk into the water when Patience took out her wand and muttered: “Accio Mungus!” Anne held Hengist at the back of his jacket and pointed at Mungus zooming safely towards Patience’s outstretched hands. “That was a serious breach of the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy!” Hengist reproached his friend. Patience shrugged. “But you walking into a little lake would attract no muggle attention,” Anne complained.

Hengist drove them safely in the opposite direction, following narrow paths that seemed to lead into nowhere. “Hengist, please enlighten us what the thingy is called we’re heading for,” Patience begged from the backseat. “It’s called Alpaca Land, and it’s a petting zoo,” Hengist informed her. Anne fell in love with all the animals immediately. Patience looked sceptically at a miniature horse and asked: “Did they shrink it and forgot to engorge it again?” “Obviously,” Anne agreed. “I bet they forgot about the International Confederation of Warlocks’ Statute of Secrecy,” Patience thought aloud and was immediately nudged by Hengist in the back – or so she thought. When she turned to complain, she found herself facing – a horse. “I haven’t got anything for you,” she hastily declared and retreated. “Or if she had, Hengist would already have eaten it!” Anne joked. Hengist did not pay attention for he was patting a goat gently on its neck. When a white horse approached Patience greeted it with some friendly words. Happily the horse decided to have a closer look at the young woman. Hastily, Patience hid behind Anne. The horse sighed and trot away.

“Maybe that was an animagus,” Anne whispered. Patience shrugged and went away. On their way through the zoo they met a camel, and Patience and Hengist were admiring its fine eyes, when suddenly Anne exclaimed: “A donkey!” She patted it carefully and watched it walking over to a herd of lamas. The lamas weren’t as delighted seeing the donkey as Anne had been. On the contrary, they reacted hostile and spit at the poor donkey, who in return decided to leave this place. They met a lot of other animals, like pigs, ostriches, alpacas, chicken and ponies. But to Patience it was a relief to leave the petting zoo and go to the birds and cats in cages to have a look at them. After visiting the stables, he Magpies had seen everything and went back to their hotel.

“What will we do today?” Anne wanted to know after breakfast. “Butterflies, a castle and a church,” Hengist listed. Anne was satisfied with this answer, however Patience enquired for more facts about the history of the castle. “ask your dad for these, I haven’t got a clue,” Hengist stated calmly. The butterfly garden was very beautiful. It was a greenhouse filled with many exotic plants, a countless number of butterflies, small birds and two LEGUANE. As neither of them had been a specialist in Herbology, they simply admired the blossoms without knowing what they were called. The same applied to the butterflies except for one specimen Patience recognized as being a good ingredient for a Vanishing Potion.

“Keep your hands off it,” Hengist hissed angrily. Anne examined one of the plants closer. “Do you think I can get one of these for Mr Weasley?” she enquired. “Yes, Anne, that shouldn’t be too hard to do. We’ll go to a gardener’s and fetch one,” Hengist promised. When they had seen everything, Hengist led them up a steep hill to the castle. “But that’s only a ruin!” Patience exclaimed shocked. “Yeah, well, it certainly seems so,” Hengist muttered. “That’s waycool,” Anne said joyfully. “And here is written that it was destroyed in the Civil Wars,” Patience said and pointed at a sign above the main gate.

There was not much to see, though, therefore they enjoyed the view at the city and the surrounding woods. “And that is the church we will visit next,” Hengist said. It was not far away, and the three friends walked there and enjoyed the cool inside. Other than some medieval tombs, the church looked pretty modern. But the cloister was beautifully painted and there was a nice little fountain as well. “Looks very old to me,” Patience said thoughtfully. Hengist helpfully showed her the guide he had bought and I read that the church and the adjacent abbey had been founded in the 13^th century.

They walked back to the car and left, although not before having had an ice-cream. As he had promised, Hengist took Anne to a gardener to buy a plant for Mr Weasley. Having purchased a cactus, Anne was very happy. “It’s easy to keep, can defend itself and should you run out of water you can even eat it,” she explained, showing the little treasure to her two friends. The same evening, it was sent to Mr Weasley.

“What does the list say for today?” Patience enquired curiously the moment Hengist had arrived at the breakfast table. “I think we’ll do loads of culture the next two days,” Hengist proudly pointed out. “There is an exhibition in a nearby town about a medieval merchant bringing an elephant from the orient to Europe.” “That sounds great!” Patience was happy. The three walked through the exhibition which was shown in three different buildings – the town hall, the treasury and the cathedral – and ended up in the very cellar of the treasury. “That’s weird. I thought there only existed one of those,” Patience whispered awed, pointing at a manuscript with alchemy signs. “I didn’t even know there was such a book,” Hengist confessed, grinning. “But it does, it’s in the Restricted Section,“ Patience informed him. There was no need for Anne or Hengist to ask how Patience had come to get a glimpse at a book in the Restricted Section.

Impressive as the exhibition was, the Magpies walked through it in awe and after having seen quite enough for one day, they were glad to get home again.

“You said we would do two days of culture,” Anne remarked in between two sips of chocolate. Hengist nodded. “They show the imitation of the Chinese Army.” “What Chinese Army?” Anne wanted to know. “Not the really famous one, in the grave of the first emperor?” Patience asked, dropping her bread onto her plate. “Exactly,” Hengist told her. “Then I refuse to come with you,” Anne resolved. “I don’t want to see any skeletons.” “There will be no need for that, the army was made of clay.” Anne wasn’t completely convinced, but went with her friends without making a fuss. Seeing the impressive exhibition, she was very happy to have done so. “That would be a nice garden gnome for Mr Weasley,” Patience helpfully told Anne in the souvenir shop. Anne nodded. “But I have to make sure that no one will throw and break it.” Being sure that she would find the perfect spell, she bought one of the smaller specimen. That evening they had to pack their suitcases again.

Much too fast the time had passed and they were to leave the next morning for home. “We’ll keep in contact anyway, and see you at the station for Oxford!” Anne called hen Hengist had dropped her off at Victoria Station. Patience was fetched at the Leaky Cauldron by her father, who thanked Hengist for tasking care of his daughter. “Bye, see you at Oxford,” Patience said and gave Hengist a huge hug.

Driver's License

“Oh wow. Oh cool. Bliss,” Hengist muttered while reading the letter that had that very morning arrived by owl post. It bore the official Hogwarts crest, and although Hengist had successfully finished his magical education, he was still very attached to the school. Besides, he had been accepted for Advanced Muggle Studies which meant that he was expecting a list of things he had to do to enrol himself at Christ Church College, Oxford, and find a flat there.

But the letter he had received today was much more than just a list of books and advice. It was an announcement that all the students accepted for that year’s class of Advanced Muggle Studies were to meet in London the next afternoon. Being witches and wizards, that was no problem to any of them. Hengist whistled through his teeth. The letter said that Hogwarts would pay for driving lessons. Hengist felt as if his parents’ decision to send their son to a magical school had been a really good one.

 

Anne Symmons received a similar letter and felt absolutely happy. She hated being with her family, and every excuse to leave Cumbria was fine for her. Plus, she had always wanted to find a means of transport that did not involve magic. Flying was out of the question for her – even the thought of mounting a broom made Anne’s skin prickle unpleasantly. Apparating might be okay, but could lead to highly embarrassing situations when you appeared in a crowd of Muggles. Floo Powder worked only in the set network of connected fireplaces. But how was she to move in Muggle Oxford except on her own two feet or with what Emerson Dicket had called public transport?

No, being able to drive a car sounded perfect. So Anne began to pack some things, fully intending to spend the remainder of her holidays in London rather than in her family’s home. She sang while she packed. Wouldn’t it be bliss, being with her closest friends and enjoying a privileged status as Dicket’s favoured Advanced Muggle Studies students? Surely the school had seen to everything, enrolling, finding accommodation, everything. Emerson Dicket would have seen to that. He was bound to.

 

To Patience Wood the letter meant that she had to cancel a visit to the nearby Quidditch pitch with her brother and father. “Damn. Couldn’t they have found a better date?” she fumed. “You have to go, Helena, you were especially chosen to do Advanced Muggle Studies, and that is a great honour,” Joan reminded her daughter who grimaced. “You know, I begin to doubt that was the best decision of my life. Perhaps I had better change my mind and go to the ministry after all,” Patience thought aloud. Oliver burst into laughter. “You at the ministry! They could close down for good!” “I’m not as chaotic as you like to imagine me to be,” Patience snapped. “Peace, children,” Joan said warningly. “I am sure our Helena would do us proud wherever she chose to go – and I expect the same of you, Verres.” Inwardly she sighed. She had hoped that now the children were almost grown up, the little rivalries would come to an end. But that was not the case.

“You should pack a few things, Helena,” Joan told her daughter and Patience stormed off. Learning to drive a car! What a real waste of time. Apparition was worthwhile. Flying was elementary. Floo Powder especially nice to visit grandma Petronella. But a car? True, her dad could drive, but he needed to, because he often dealt with Muggles. Patience stopped dead. She would be acting like a Muggle for the next three years. “Oh, hell,” she breathed. Perhaps learning to drive was not as insane as it had seemed. But… Patience’s face brightened up. Of course she’d share a flat with Hengist and Anne, so one of them could learn how to drive and she needn’t bother. Patience thought that was an excellent plan.

 

Roland Banks stared down at his letter with very mixed feelings. On the one hand, it would certainly be an advantage not to be constantly compared with Ramon Vargas. On the other hand, Roland despised Muggles. He had only applied for Advanced Muggle Studies because his father had told him to. “Perhaps, son, this will come in handy when the Dark Lord returns,” Mr Banks had told his son who had obediently signed up for Dicket’s class. His younger sister Seraphia thought it a good joke. “You’ve got to do some nice Muggle-baiting,” she said. Roland groaned. “You idiot – your ideas can land me in Azkaban, and that’s a fact.” Seraphia laughed. “I can’t imagine you learning to live like a Muggle. How unnatural for a wizard!” “Yes. But perhaps an inside knowledge of Muggle life can help enslaving Muggles faster and easier,” Roland pointed out. Seraphia suspected that had been Vargas’ idea, but left it at that.

“You’ll meet those dreadful Magpies again, then,” Seraphia mused. Roland gave her a dark look. “Hardly my idea of fun.” “Perhaps you should prepare some jinxes,” Seraphia suggested. “Come off it, Dicket’s going to be there. No-go for any jinx,” Roland said exasperatedly. He knew that even if no teacher were present he’d stand no chance against the Magpies. But he had to go to London. Sighing deeply, he finished packing.

 

The next day, Emerson Dicket was having a pleasant chat with Tom, landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, when the door opened and admitted three laughing young people. “Hello professor. We’ve brought you a little gift,” Anne said and handed Dicket a small box. “We?” Hengist asked. “Alright, Hengist bought it after Patience and me told him to do so,” Anne explained and giggled. Dicket opened the box and found a deck of Muggle playing cards. “Thought you’d like them, they’re for Wished,” Anne said. “Whist,” Hengist corrected her. “Yes, and you play a robber in Whist, the shop assistant said,” Patience added. “Rubber,” Hengist said through clenched teeth. “Whatever,” Patience said airily.

Dicket smiled. “I guess you’re all looking forward to Oxford, aren’t you?” “Oh, very much indeed,” Anne assured him. Tom chuckled. “Those Muggles better keep away from you lot.” “No need, we’ll treat them nicely,” Patience promised generously. “I’ll see to that. Where is Mr Banks?” Dicket asked. At precisely that moment the door opened again and Roland Banks entered. He looked an odd mixture of being scared and bad-tempered at once when he made his way to join his least favourite school mates and their professor.

“Good. Now we’re all here at last, some formalities. I have already done all the things necessary to enrol you at Christ Church. What is more, I found a house you could share,” Dicket announced. “What – the four of us?” Roland asked aghast. “Yes. Usually first year Advanced Muggle Studies undergraduates like having a Muggle-free haven,” Dicket said and grinned. “I’m out of that. I want my own flat,” Roland said at once. The Magpies looked at each other. “Agreed. We take a Muggle in,” Anne said. Patience nodded, and Hengist shrugged. It was no problem for him, anyway.

Dicket looked doubtful. “Really, I’m not sure if that is such a good idea.” “Yes it is. You can’t act against Roland’s wishes, and we’d like to have a house,” Anne reasoned. “Besides, living with a Muggle will be a real challenge and we do earn our degree rightfully,” Patience added. Dicket nodded slowly. “Oh I see. Good. Then that’s settled. Now, what about the driving lessons? We’ve got a Ministry official at hand who has agreed to teach you.”

“I’m in for it,” Hengist replied. “Me, too,” Anne said. Dicket looked questioningly at Patience. “Me behind a stirring wheel? No way.” She looked puzzled when Dicket and Hengist burst into laughter. “What’s wrong?” she asked suspiciously. “Stirring wheel!” Hengist managed to say while tears of laughter ran over his cheeks. “Stir with a wheel – you potions queen, you can’t stir a car,” Dicket said. Patience sighed. “But I thought it was called something like that.” “Steering wheel, my dear, steering wheel,” Dicket corrected Patience with a mild smile. “I really can’t remember why I let you with your chronic lack of the correct Muggle word pass any exam.” “Perhaps because you think that charming?” Patience suggested mischievously. “Well, don’t let my wife hear about it,” Dicket only replied.

“You haven’t told us yet who will be our driving teacher,” Anne reminded the professor. “That’s because I still don’t know how many pupils he will have,” Dicket replied and looked questioningly at Roland. “No. I’m out of it. Is there anything else I need to know or can I go?” Roland asked sullenly. “Erm… let me see. I enrolled you, I’ll find you a flat, and you’ll get to know the details the week you’re supposed to start. I’ll send a letter. Alright?” “Sure. Goodbye,” Roland said and left the Leaky Cauldron, desperately trying to mask his urge to be gone. “Boy, he is scared,” Anne commented. Dicket gave her a stern look. “Don’t you give him any reason to be even more scared.” “Us? Never,” Anne assured Dicket who did not believe her for a second.

“So it’s only you and Hengist who are going to take any lessons. Fine. Mr Weasley will be quite pleased with that.” Dicket smiled when he saw Anne’s expression. “Oh, it’s Arthur Weasley teaching us? Brilliant!” she breathed. “Yes, well, he’s got a car of his own and he’s willing to let you practise. Mind you, if you want a real Muggle driver’s license you still need to take a course in a local school,” Dicket warned. “And Mr Weasley will teach us what?” Hengist enquired, frowning. “He’ll teach you basics and hand you driver’s licences that look exactly like the Muggle ones. No fears, they do work, I’ve got one myself,” Dicket assured Hengist whose face cleared at once. “Oh good. I thought I had to sign up for an ordinary class after all.”

“No. Mr Weasley asks you to be at the Ministry next week Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, 4 p.m. sharp. He reckons that will be enough time to teach you what you need to know. Do you agree?” “Of course,” Anne said at once. Hengist nodded enthusiastically. It all sounded better than anything else he had experienced so far.

 

He and Anne presented themselves at the Ministry at the appointed time. ”Have you come all the way from Cumbria?” Hengist asked Anne who laughed. “Of course not, I’m staying at the Leaky Cauldron. Me and my family agree that it’s best when we’re together as little as possible.” Hengist shook his head. “That’s queer.” To him, family meant being close as could be and laughing about each other’s mistakes and faults. Sure enough, some family members were prone to get on his nerves at times, but you could bear it – because they were family.

Arthur Weasley came out of the Ministry and smiled at his pupils. “I’m glad you made it. Hello, Anne, it’s as always a pleasure to meet you.” “Hello Mr Wesley. Thanks for teaching us,” Anne replied. “Oh, a pleasure, I’m sure. Hengist, Anne, please follow me. I came to work by car today, quite unusual for me, but there you are.” He led the two into a back alley where several ancient-looking vehicles were parked. “That’s the car park for our employees,” Arthur explained. Hengist looked shocked. “Don’t you have shiny limousines or something the like?” “We do, Hengist. Wizards tend to use cars that are not likely to be stolen. You see, there’s a tiny little hole in the laws for Muggle protection, and if you don’t intend to use them, you can put spells and enchantments on your car to enhance it. You wouldn’t want to have a Muggle thief laying his filthy hands on such a car, would you?” Arthur laughed, and Hengist understood.

They arrived at a turquoise Ford Anglia. “My car,” Arthur said proudly. “Well, then, my dears, get in – no, not yet behind the steering wheel, Anne, let me explain some things first.” And Arthur began to explain what the different things in the car were used for. He showed them how to put in gears, how to give signs to change sides and so on. He even showed them how to use the lights. “What’s that button for?” Hengist asked. “That? Oh, that’s the Invisibility Booster. However, you don’t need to know how that works, because Muggle cars don’t have one,” Arthur said happily. Anne grinned.

In that very first lesson, neither Hengist nor Anne were allowed to drive. But the next lesson, Arthur let them go around some corners and was highly pleased. He showed them a few more things, explained the rules to them, and was afterwards certain they would make it. “If you can drive in London, you can certainly drive in Oxford,” he said reassuringly on Saturday. Then he handed Hengist and Anne each a driver’s licence. “Yours to keep. I’m proud of you. Let me hear from you occasionally, Anne,” Arthur Weasley told them, shook hands with both and left. Anne and Hengist grinned at each other. “Wow, I’ve got a fake Muggle driver’s license,” Hengist joked. “Yeah, me too. What a coincidence,” Anne replied. Laughing, they went to Diagon Alley to celebrate their licences with huge sundaes at Florean Fortescue’s.

 

-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.