Uric the Oddball and the Great Goblin Uprising

Chapter 2: Joie de Vie

Uric dug his fingernails into the crevice that formed at the joining of the wall and carefully took another step. He was on the stone lintel outside the grand window in his room, though where he really wanted to be was perched on the stone eagle's head that was protruding out of the wall nearby. It wasn't his usual place to go. He preferred the hidden balcony on the fourth floor, but he had a good reason for wanting to be on the eagle's head.

Balanced on the stone beak, and standing as close to the wall as possible was a beautiful, multi-coloured bird. Caesar, the fwooper, had been bought a few months before by his mother. Caesar had looked at Uric with such pitiful eyes that, as soon as he was alone with him, he had taken the muting charm off the poor bird. The fwooper sang like nothing Uric had ever heard. It had taken him many hours of listening to realize that not only did fwoopers sing new and beautiful songs, but they sung them backwards.

He had decided that was why so many people muted the pretty birds. They knew that the fwoopers were singing beautifully, but their minds kept reminded them that it was backwards. It could be rather confusing if you didn't know what you were listening for. This wasn't even mentioning the lyrics of the songs...

Writing down the lyrics had been his goal for the afternoon, preferably done before his mum came looking for Caesar, but one of the windows had mysteriously opened, and Caesar had taken the opportunity to fly outside.

"Caesar, please come back inside. Louis will be here soon!" he called. Louis had written him a letter nearly a week ago.

Dear Uric,

My father needs to get rid of me for the rest of the summer. Save me from my relatives, and ask your father if I can stay with you. Get him to write my father.

Louis

Mr. Beaufolle had agreed, though he didn't seem happy about it. Uric didn't know why since Louis had visited them before, though never for such a long time. His fingers were beginning to complain, so Uric moved a little further along the wall. He needed to get Caesar back inside before Louis arrived and his mother noticed the bird was missing.

"Caesar!" The bird looked at him, then let out a peal of song that Uric's brain translated as, "Water, cross, velocity, where, north, never, lost, pigs." Uric nodded his understanding.

"That's a good idea, though I'm not sure why you need the persimmons." Caesar sang again. "Alright. I'll come and get you." Uric dug his fingers further into the crack and extended his foot so that it rested on the eagle's head. With a little trouble, he managed to get the rest of himself onto the projection. It was crowded with Caesar there, so he picked up the fwooper and put him on his shoulder, ignoring the squawks of protest.

A sound distracted him then. It sounded like a dragon with indigestion. He looked around for its source. A pure black carriage swooped out of the sky, cutting across the rapidly setting sun. It was driven by an old man with wild eyes, who stood up, leaning back on the reins and holding a whip loosely in one hand. There appeared to be nothing attached to the other end of the reins, but as Uric watched, the driver shouted a particularly nasty word and cracked his whip in front of him. There was a harsh scream, and for a moment, two frothing, black, winged horses appeared, galloping madly. A second later they were invisible again. Uric felt sorry for the poor thestrals.

The carriage landed smoothly on the road leading up to the manor, and ground to a halt near the front doors. Uric absently stroked Caesar, who was crooning softly about the air speed velocity of thestrals and tried to look inside the carriage. Its curtains were black and it was impossible to tell who was inside. Uric wondered if perhaps it was the coach itself that had come to visit the Beaufolle Manor, though his father hadn't mentioned being acquainted with any sentient coaches.

The coach door opened, and Louis got out quickly, shutting the door behind him. He was slightly shorter than Uric, with long, black hair that he usually tied back. His pale skin looked rather sickly in the dying sunlight. Louis headed purposefully towards the front door, but stopped before he got there and looked curiously up at Uric.

"Should I ask what you're doing up there, Uric?" he called.

"Caesar's afraid of heights," Uric yelled back. Louis stared at him, and Uric could see him blinking.

"What an unfortunate circumstance for a bird," Uric heard him mutter, before he raised his voice. "You better get inside before my father gets out here," Louis yelled. He looked back at the black carriage. "Quickly!" Uric looked around him. How could he get inside quickly? Caesar started singing again and Uric had an idea. He took out his wand and manoeuvred it around to point at the wall behind him.

"Portcreo!" That should work. The stones shivered, then shifted sideways, folding in on themselves to create a crude door. It opened into his room, and he ducked through before it disappeared. The Beaufolle Manor didn't like to be transfigured.

He settled Caesar on his bed and redid the muting charm, before putting on a clean robe and hurrying to the entrance way.

There was a strange tension in the room. His father stood with his back straight, meeting the dark-eyes of Louis' father who stood more casually, but somehow gave the impression of being ready to pounce. Louis was standing off to one side, his dark green-eyes narrowed as he watched the meeting between the two wizards. Uric was sad he had missed the introductions.

"Your son has an invitation to enter my house. Not you," said his father firmly. Mr. Illiescu laughed, though it wasn't a happy one.

"I would spend no night under your roof, just as you would spend no night under mine. Our sons however..." he trailed off as he saw Uric. "Ah, the infamous Uric. Greetings from the Illiescu clan." Louis' father dipped his head in a slight bow, then offered his hand. Uric bowed politely back and took the proffered hand.

"You're hands are cold, Mr. Illiescu," he said in surprise, forgetting to introduce himself. Mr. Illiescu pulled away and shook his finger at him. "Now, now, Uric. That's not very polite. How do you ever expect to follow in your father's footsteps and become a politician if you insult the very people you need to charm?" He winked at him, then glanced at Uric's father. Uric looked at his father as well. He wondered if Mr. Illiescu was using some type of shielding charm, since his father's glare looked like it could drill a hole through armour.

"Well, the night is young and I must be off." Louis' father pulled on some thin leather gloves as he spoke. "Louis." He nodded in Louis' direction before he left.

"Do you think you can set wood on fire with your eyes, Father?" asked Uric. The anger faded from his father's eyes and he shook his head ruefully.

"I'm afraid that's a power I don't have, Uric."

"Thank you for letting me stay, Mr. Beaufolle," said Louis, speaking up for the first time. Mr. Beaufolle studied Louis thoughtfully.

"I know what it is like to be abandoned...for the summer," he said after a moment. Uric nodded his head.

"Yes, Mr. Holmstein threatened to bury him in a hole for the rest of the holidays if he ever charmed his herds to fly again," he said cheerfully. His father groaned.

"Go amuse yourselves elsewhere please. We'll be eating late tonight."

"No pudding?" asked Uric.

"No pudding," confirmed Mr. Beaufolle. Uric grinned happily, then turned to Louis who had been watching the exchange with an amused smile. "I'll show you Caesar. He's a fwooper, but they don't sing half as badly as everyone seems to think they do."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," said his father, heading off towards his study. Louis was still smiling as he followed Uric up the stairs.

*****

A week later, the two of them were sitting in the centre of the fuzzy room, as Uric called it. Everything in the room, no matter the object was coated in some type of fur. The walls were lined with deer skin. The floor was a mixture of everything from mongoose to bear skins. The vase in the corner was covered in jarvey skin.

They were engaged in a furious game of wizarding chess. Louis had never had the opportunity to play Uric before, but he was beginning to understand why Mena had sworn off ever playing with him again. There was no sense to Uric's moves. He seemed to chose the pieces at random, encouraging them with a smile to move to the places he wanted them to go. The pieces themselves were old, and made no protests at Uric's nonsensical moves, but they shook their heads in dismay every time Louis made a move. For the third time in the game, Uric moved his queen next to one of his knights.

"Why did you do that?" asked Louis curiously. Since Uric had no strategy, it wouldn't hurt to ask him to explain.

"She likes him," said Uric as if it were obvious. Louis frowned at the explanation, then moved his bishop so that it was positioned to take down Uric's queen. Uric looked at the board, and moved a pawn that had been standing on the sidelines since the beginning of the game.

"He hasn't moved for awhile," he explained before Louis could ask. Louis surveyed the board.

"And he just happens to put my king into check," said Louis with a touch of disgust. He was a good chess player, but it was impossible to play against someone who didn't actually have a coherent plan. Though for someone without a plan, Uric was well positioned to take him down within a few moves no matter what Louis did. Giving up the game for a loss, Louis decided to broach a topic he had been meaning to discuss with Uric for awhile now. The Slytherin within him wouldn't let him just say it right out, so he decided to approach it obliquely. "Why was your father so upset when my father mentioned you becoming a politician?" he asked. Uric looked up from where he had been tickling one of his 'dead' pawns. He looked upset.

"Father's disappointed that I'm not going to be a politician, though I don't know how he knows that since I haven't told him I'm not going to be one. There's always been a Beaufolle on the Council. Do you think he talked to a seer?" Louis shook his head. He understood what Mr. Beaufolle was thinking. How could Uric be a politician, if he couldn't even focus on the world around him?

"I think you'd make a better politician then your father realizes," said Louis, trying to reassure his friend. "All you'd have to do is speak your usual nonsense and perform the occasional miracle. You'd be doing more then the Council these days." Uric gave him a curious look.

"So you think I should be a politician?" he asked. Louis shrugged.

"I don't see why not. Myself on the other hand..." he trailed off, hoping Uric would take the hint. Uric looked off into the distance and began humming to himself. Louis hung his head in defeat. He really should have known better then to try anything other then the obvious with Uric.

"I need to go to France. Paris to be more precise," he said. Uric continued humming. "Uric!"

"Yes?"

"I need to go to Paris," repeated Louis. Uric nodded happily.

"Okay. Can Mena come?" he asked. Louis had been afraid he would ask that. Where Uric could be counted on to be oblivious, Mena would ask a lot of hard questions. He couldn't go on his own though.

"If you want her to come with us," he said cautiously.

"I do," said Uric. "She said she wanted to see us this summer, or else she would punch me." Louis could vaguely recall her saying that at the end of last year, in between threatening to punch him if he didn't write.

"Alright. I'll let you know when we need to go. We have to pretend this is a secret though. No mentioning this to anyone."

"Not even Caesar?" asked Uric.

"Not even Caesar."

*****

Louis nervously followed Uric out of the Leaky Cauldron. He didn't want to tell Uric this, but he had never even met a genuine Muggle much less entered a whole city full of them. Paris would be full of Muggles though. If he couldn't handle Muggle London , then how was he going to handle exploring Paris? At least Uric had been here before.

It had taken all his ingenuity to get Uric to leave the Beaufolle Manor this morning without telling his parents where they were going. Uric had still managed to leave them a note, but by the time his parents read it, they should already be in Paris. It had taken even longer for Louis to convince Uric not to bring Simon and Caesar.

Louis stuck close to Uric, who was walking along, peering curiously at everything. They had transfigured their robes into approximations of Muggle clothing before they left the Leaky Cauldron, but a look around them revealed that both their outfits had too much colour and lace to pass as low-born Muggles. Louis dragged Uric into a dark alley, ignoring the squelch of something he didn't want to identify under his uncomfortable Muggle boots. He transfigured both their garments so that they were less noticeable before letting Uric go out again.

Uric led the way unerringly through the twisting London streets. He waved cheerily at the street mongers trying to sell their wares, and nodded politely to a wagon driver who started cursing them when he almost ran them over. Eventually they left the crowded market streets behind, to enter an area that smelled as bad as their Potion's classroom after a particularly nasty accident. Louis wrinkled up his nose in disgust.

"Is this where she lives, Uric?" asked Louis. If so, he understood why she was always so annoyed. "It needs a good perfume charm." Uric pointed to a nearby building which had a huge deer skin hanging from a post out front.

"That's a tanner. They use potions to make leather for people. I told them I could make it less smelly but they wouldn't listen." Uric shook his head sadly. They walked a few buildings down and Louis nearly missed it when Uric slipped through a small door set in the brick wall.

It was a scene of controlled chaos inside. A huge courtyard faced inward, with people bustling to and fro across it. On one side, some Muggles were fitting a wheel as tall as themselves to a carriage. From the other side came the sound of hammers on metal and the cries of the smiths as they called for the tools they needed.

"Shut up about the king, Everett!" came a voice over the din. "Nobody cares except for you!" Louis smiled. They had found Mena. She was on the other side of the carriage, her hands on her hips, yelling at a man who was twice her age. She wore a black stained Muggle dress, and her soot-streaked, dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a haphazard bun. The man she yelled at walked away, a sulky look on his face. Uric came up right behind her.

"What king?" he asked. Mena jumped and whirled around.

"Uric!" she yelled, and pulled him into a hug before pushing him away angrily. "Don't sneak up on me! The king's Catholic, that's all." Her eyes widened as she saw Louis. "Louis? What are you doing here?" She looked about ready to hug him if he got any closer, so Louis kept his distance. He was afraid of what he would do if she did.

"We're going on a trip," he responded with a shrug. Uric had taken his shrunken satchel out of a pouch and was rummaging through it. "We thought you might like to come along."

"Where are we going?" she asked in an annoyed voice, though Louis could tell she was interested.

"France," was all he said. She gave them both an incredulous look, though Uric was busy scribbling his thoughts onto the continuous parchment book that Louis had given him for his birthday last year. It was called a never-ending journal, though as far as Louis could tell, Uric only used it to write his odder ideas down. The one time he had seen its contents, Louis had read what looked like part of a dissertation on the advantages of spending one's life upside down followed by a jumble of runic equations that had come to the conclusion that the world was made of cheese. Louis had to stop reading then so he wouldn't get a headache.

"Why France?" she asked.

"Haven't you always wanted to see Paris?" Louis asked. Mena nodded reluctantly.

"Mena! Where did you run off to? Come take care of your brother!" called out a shrill voice. Mena made a face.

"Who's that?" asked Louis curiously. Although he would cut off his arm rather then bring it up, he was sure her mother had died during their fourth year.

"My stepmother," said Mena flatly. "She was married to my father by the time I got home." She proceeded to call the woman some very nasty and inventive names before she calmed down. "She's been even more annoying now that she's given my father an heir."

"Mena!" came the voice again.

"Little brothers and sisters are nice," said Uric cheerfully.

"Maybe if I didn't have to take care of him all the time he would be," said Mena with disgust. "And she doesn't like magic either."

"Mena!" A red-haired woman appeared from inside the building with a baby in her arms. "Mena!" Mena pulled them around to the other side of the carriage.

"How long will we be gone?" she whispered.

"Two days," answered Louis when it became apparent that Uric was more fascinated with examining a fly that had landed on his sleeve, then with answering. Mena came to some sort of decision.

"Come on," she said, and headed across the courtyard, careful to keep the carriage between them and her stepmother. She headed for one of the forges and approached a big man with humongous arms. There was grey in the man's hair, but that didn't seem to stop him from slinging a hammer that was bigger than Louis' head.

"Graham!" she yelled over the pounding of the hammer. The man glanced at her and pounded down one more time on the metal he was shaping before thrusting it back into the heart of the forge. He turned back to her with a smile.

"What can I do for you, my lady?" he asked. She smiled almost shyly at him.

"Can you tell father I'll be gone for the next two days when he comes home? I'll be with friends." She gestured at Uric and Louis. Graham gave them an assessing look, then winked at Uric.

"You find the badgers yet?" he asked with another wink in Mena and Louis' direction. Apparently he thought he was humouring Uric. Mena clapped a dirty hand over Uric's mouth before he could respond.

"We don't really have much time. Just let Papa know I'll be alright." Graham nodded reluctantly. Uric had wandered over to a nearby barrel of water, so Graham fixed Louis with a nasty stare.

"Keep her safe," he commanded. Louis was quick to nod his reassurance.

"She has my wand," he responded unthinkingly, then winced at his mistake. It was an old wizard affirmation, and something no Muggle would understand. But Graham threw back his head and laughed.

"So that's what she's got of you!" He continued chuckling to himself. Louis stared.

"Do you know what he's talking about?" asked Mena in a whisper. Louis was at a loss.

"No, but we had better go if we're going to leave before your stepmother sees you. Come on, Uric." They pulled a now dripping Uric out of the smithy, and continued their journey to Paris.

*****