Harry Potter and the Society of Orpheus and Bacchus

Chapter 5:      Through the Trapdoor

“GOOD GOD, what was that?” cried Hemione.  She and Harry had just approached Hagrid’s little wooden hut.

The screams originated from Hagrid’s back garden, where they typically gathered for Care of Magical Creatures.  Harry and Hermione exchanged knowing looks, but neither flinched.  Ever since making Hagrid’s acquaintance in their first year, it had been obvious that the half-giant entertained a soft spot for uncommonly large and unusually dangerous creatures.  In Hagrid’s book, the more life-threatening the better.

Harry and Hermione joined the cluster of students as the group were making a swift retreat from something in the centre of the paddock.  Beside them, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil screamed.  A body in the front row tumbled forward, as if struck by a Petrificus Charm.  Neville Longbottom had fallen in a dead faint.  A loud, skin-rippling roar pierced the air from beyond the quivering huddle of students.  Even the Slytherin girls made no attempt to control their screams.  Malfoy, eyes wide as Quidditch hoops, looked even paler than he had when scolded by Snape.

Hermione gasped.  In the enclosure, Harry caught a glimpse of a ferocious man’s head swinging wildly atop a lion’s body that ended in an over-sized scorpion’s tail.  Harry swallowed with difficulty.  Its long sharp teeth were bested only in length and thickness by the claws at the end of the creature’s paws and its razor-sharp tail.  Luckily for them all, that… thing… was restrained by shackles around its neck and torso.  Hermione drew a nervous hand to her neck. 

The group jumped, for the second time that afternoon, at the sound of Hagrid’s cheery bellow.

“This is a Manticore.  Just a baby one this is, though,” he said, extending his fingers to tickle the beast under the chin.  The Manticore widened its yellow-red eyes, drawing itself to its colossal height, and pounced at Hagrid’s hand, fiercely snapping its jaws.  Had Hagrid not been quick enough to withdraw his hand, Harry was sure he would have lost more than just a finger.  The beast glowered at them warily.  Harry turned his eyes to Hermione with concern.  Although the creature’s claws had gone back to tilling Hagrid’s pumpkin patch, her eyes had screwed tightly shut and she was biting her lip.

“Me Da said they’re really dangerous, these,” whispered Seamus.  “A single sting brings instant death.”  Lavender gasped and backed into the rear wall of the hut. “’E told me an’ me brother that o’er the centuries none o’ these ha’ been convicted o’ their murders, …but only ‘cos no one’s e’er dared get close enough to sentence ‘em.”

Twenty faces looked up fearfully as Hagrid chuckled with glee.  “My, but they’re downright playful, these ‘uns.  Yes, you are, aren’t you?” he cooed.  He reached out a large hand again to tickle it under its chin.  Hagrid turned away, just as the tail swung violently forward.  Harry clapped his hands over his eyes.  Through his trembling fingers, he managed to see the stinger just missing the exposed skin on Hagrid’s arm by inches.  Oblivious, Hagrid continued with a contented sigh.  “They’re more active when they’re young.  We’re ‘specially lucky to have these.  Their preliminary developmental stages are short, so during the year we can track their progress from infancy to adolescence to early adulthood.”

“Right.”  Hagrid turned his attention to the still-cowering clump of students.  “Anyone want to have a go at petting Egbert?  ‘E won’ ‘urt ya.”

This time, Harry refused to humour Hagrid, even for the sake of the gamekeeper’s feelings. 

“Well,” said the game-keeper, after an uncomfortable pause.  “I guess we can wait till ya get to know yers.”

“What do you mean, ‘ours’?”  asked Dean Thomas.

“G- g- get to know them?” squeaked Neville from behind Dean’s knees.  Having regained consciousness, he had feebly managed to sit up on the grass, still looking a bit pale.  Neville, eyed the Manticore in unblinking horror, apparently having expended his month’s worth of mettle in the last Potions class. 

“What!” Malfoy’s patrician face twisted in outrage.  “The last thing any of us needs is to form a relationship with this thing.”

Hagrid feigned deafness.  “We’re ‘specially lucky this year, like I said, cos’ ye also each get to take care of yer own Manticore.  ‘Been given one fer each of ye.” 

Hagrid clapped his hands excitedly, as if he were distributing Christmas presents.  No one else seemed remotely enthusiastic.  Nevertheless, with that, Hagrid walked to a nearby mound between the cabin and the Forest.  Reaching down and pulling on what appeared to be a stray tree root emerging from the ground, he lifted up a large panel of earth hiding a hollow well. 

The air immediately exploded with enough howls, growls and rattling of chains to make the class shiver, in spite of the afternoon heat.  Hagrid beckoned them to join him.

The students inched forward reluctantly, keeping to small clusters for safety.  Peering down into the opening, Lavender’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream.  Hermione and Harry tentatively craned their necks forward. 

What looked a moment ago like a hollow well was in fact a large cavern housing at least twenty cages.  In each, they could barely make out the gnashing of long, sharp yellow teeth, the glow of red-yellow eyes and the thrashing of poisonous stingers against the iron bars. 

Hagrid, blissfully unaware of any discomfort on the part of his students, continued cheerfully.  “I’ll be intoducin’ ye, o’ course to other animals this term and next, mind ye, but these’ll be yer main project.”  He let out a paternal sigh.  “It’s such an honour to be able to take care of an endangered species such as these.”

They’re endangered?! thought Harry incredulously.  I find that hard to believe.  He crooked an eyebrow at Hermione, who looked truly horrified.

“Ye’ll be rotatin’ yer feedin’ schedules with the Gryffindor and Slytherin fourth years.”

“What!” Malfoy exclaimed.  “You can’t seriously mean you want us to get down there and feed those things, do you?  You must be insane.  My father will be outraged when he hears about this.”

Any other teacher would have immediately deducted points from Slytherin for Malfoy’s insulting tone and disrespect.  But Hagrid was patient.  Still, Harry hoped he wouldn’t forget how Malfoy and his father had nearly had Hagrid sacked, arrested and dragged to Azkaban for one of the allegedly dangerous Hippogriffs he had procured for the class.  It had been Draco’s fault for enraging Buckbeak in the first place, but a little thing like innocence wouldn’t have prevented the spiteful Lucius Malfoy from ruining Hagrid’s career as a Hogwarts teacher.  The fact that Lucius no longer sat on the Board of Governors did nothing to curb his influence over them through other, more unscrupulous, methods.  A shadow hovered over Hagrid’s face, but, with Herculean effort, he smiled indulgently.

“O’ course.  Gotta learn how the regulation of their nutrition ‘ffects their growth cycle.  But, as there aren’t enough fer the whole school, ye’ll be sharing yer Manticores with the fourth years.  I’ve posted feeding responsibility schedules on the gate there.  Make sure ye check yer schedules and remember to come at the right time.  One thing about Manticores is they don’t like bein’ kept waitin’ fer their dinner.”

The class broke up, heading back toward the castle.  The students looked more than a little shaken at the daunting task they’d been given.  By the looks of them, the majority sorely wished they could simply take care of Flobberworms again this term.  Even Blast Ended Skrewts looked like domestic pets compared to the baby Manticores. 

By the gate, on the way back to the school, small groups gathered, quills in hand, to record their feeding schedules.  I wonder what they eat, thought Harry absently.  He suppressed a shudder at the prospect of human flesh being the Manticore’s meal-of-choice.  Ugh.  The thought was simply too morbid.  Harry forced himself to concentrate on the student pairings and his feeding schedule.  He couldn’t help but notice that Ginny Weasley, Ron’s younger sister, was to share the feeding duties of her Manticore with Draco Malfoy.  Rotten luck, that was.  Harry was willing to bet Ron wasn’t going to be pleased.  Neither would Ginny, for that matter.

At that moment, a deafening screech, followed by a thump, stopped them all in their tracks.  Whirling round, Harry saw Neville on the ground, face down once again.  “Baby” Egbert’s tail swung casually back and forth, as he leered mischievously at Neville’s inert form.

“That thing hit Neville with its tail,” Parvati gasped.  “I saw it.”

Hagrid, by this time, had reached the students and observed the dark trickle of thick poison leaking from the gash in Neville’s satchel.  Neville himself wasn’t hurt, just out cold.  But, a fraction of a second and a little movement one way or the other, and Neville would have been skewered instantly by the beast’s stinger.  A feeble moan issued from the boy as he twitched weakly.

“Oh, yeah,” added Hagrid, as they helped Neville regain his spirit.  “The first thing to remember is, never turn yer back on ‘em; they find that rude.  An’ it also makes it easier fer ‘em to attack ye, if yer not prepared.”

“That old fool doesn’t ever learn, does he?” muttered Malfoy menacingly to Crabbe and Goyle.  “Wait till my father hears about this.”

Despite himself, Harry silently suspected that Draco, for once, might have a point.  Poor Neville. Harry shook his head and glanced sideways at Hermione, whose eyes were as wide as Trelawney’s crystal balls.  Even without the rising threat of Voldemort’s forces, this year was promising to be anything but uneventful.

To Be Continued…