Uric the Oddball and the Great Goblin Uprising

Chapter 6: Misplaced

"I'm disappointed in the two of you."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Beaufolle, but I didn't have any other option. You said you knew what it was like..."

"Perhaps. But taking Uric with you - and if I'm not mistaken, Miss Smith too - was unacceptable."

"On the contrary, sir. Now we're two misbehaving children whom you can punish for running off for a fun weekend in Paris. Certainly not spies who brought you valuable information."

"I suspect there is much more you could tell me, Mr. Illiescu, but your point is well taken. Unfortunately for you both, I've left your punishment up to my wife. Good luck."

And the pudding said...

"Father?"

~

Dear Mena,

How are things with you? I trust you had a better time of it than we did after our trip. Mr. Beaufolle turned us over to the tender mercies of Mrs. Beaufolle, who is a believer in the traditional punishments for unruly children. It was a refreshing change after my father's methods.

Our information was appreciated, but I'm afraid we have another problem. I can't mention it here. And please don't write me back demanding an explanation.

Mrs. Beaufolle has graciously agreed to take Uric and me to Diagon Alley to gather the last of our school supplies on June 30. By "graciously agreed", I mean she refuses to let us out of her sight, but I have a plan to work around her. Which brings me to my next subject. If you could meet us there, we can discuss our other problem. Do me a favour, and don't leave this owl languishing for a week before replying, like the last one.

Louis

~

"Were you reading over my shoulder, Uric?"

"Yes. What's our 'other problem'?"

"Spying on your friends is rude."

"I know."

"I - You kicked a house elf yesterday, Uric."

"It lost my book."

"I know, but - Never mind. Let's go down to dinner."

And the pudding nodded...

*****

A sense of disquiet pervaded Diagon Alley. On the surface, it looked as it always did. Wizards bustled along on errands of business and pleasure. Children scampered around, stopping sometimes to stare in awe at the more ostentatious displays in the shop windows while their adult minders pretended their children were standing politely at their sides like well-behaved angels. But here and there, groups of wizards gathered, talking in hushed voices, while the witches gossiped in softer voices still. And at the centre of each group were the pages of the latest Daily Prophet.

Louis, who had his own subscription to the Prophet, had read through it earlier that day. He doubted the worry was over Mrs. E. B. Brunster winning the Most Handsome Wart competition three years running, so they were probably discussing the latest article on the goblin raids up north. The goblins had been a hot topic all summer. Sometimes it was obvious that Mr. Beaufolle had a hand in the news, and sometimes not. The press was already calling him a reactionary, but Louis doubted Mr. Beaufolle would care, as long as it got the Council moving.

However, the Council was moving as slowly as it usually did. They could afford to ignore the situation so long as it only affected a few wizards and Muggles up north. It would take a much larger and harder-hitting raid to get the Council into action. Unfortunately for Mr. Beaufolle, the raids showed no sign of escalating, except for the tiny fact that the raids were spreading south. Louis wondered what would happen if the goblins raided Hogsmeade, or even Hogwarts itself. People didn't take well to having their children threatened.

No, he thought, frowning in disgust. Whoever was behind the goblins' actions was too skilled to make that move now. It was better to have the Council complacent until the last moment. That was, after all, how the goblins had managed to get so far the last time.

"Uric, are you sure you're all right? You're so quiet." The worried voice of Uric's mother broke into Louis' thoughts. From the corner of his eyes, he watched Uric deliberately ignoring her. Mrs. Beaufolle repeated the question and Uric finally responded.

"Do you think that when a person's hair falls out, it's actually an attempt by the hair to escape from its lifelong prison? Perhaps the hairs spend years at rallies, passing messages and building up strength before making their great escape. You have to wonder why they try to escape certain people more than others," he said.

Mrs. Beaufolle had a fond smile on her face, her worries relieved by the oddness of Uric's answer, but to Louis' trained ears... He forced his hand to relax its grip around his wand. Uric was getting better at being Uric each day. He needed to talk to Mena.

Despite that need, Mena didn't arrive to interrupt their shopping session until almost an hour later. Louis allowed Mrs. Beaufolle to guide them from shop to shop, buying things at her prompting, since there was little he actually needed. He usually did the majority of his school shopping by owl and only bought things now to allay his companion's suspicions. He doubted he would get any shopping done once Mena arrived.

It was easy to see her coming. She was using her elbows and a well-placed heel to break up an alley-blocking crowd of worried wizards, who muttered a few words at her before dispersing. Louis grinned at the sight. Her hair was falling into disarray, though her pale green robes were surprisingly clean. She seemed to attract dirt. Louis had always thought it had something to do with growing up in a smithy, though that didn't explain how she managed to stain her robes so often at Hogwarts.

She spotted them, and her determined scowl turned into a smile. Louis smiled back, then turned to Mrs. Beaufolle to put his plan into action. Mena would ruin it if he let her speak first.

"Mrs. Beaufolle," he said, keeping his voice low and his eyes focused on the ground. He wanted her to think he was nervous, which wasn't hard because he was, though not for the reason she would think. She looked at him while keeping one motherly eye on Uric, who was staring in fascination at a window display for cooking utensils. "I was wondering..."

"Yes?" she asked. He had only a few more moments before Mena reached them.

"Mena and I are seeing each other, and we were wondering if we could have some time alone." It came out a lot faster than he had intended, and he felt his eyes widen in surprise. Maybe he was nervous for the reason she was thinking. "Please."

"Please, what?" asked Mena, coming up beside him. Mrs. Beaufolle's eyes swept over the both of them, and Louis began to sweat a little at the insight he saw there. He should have known better than to underestimate the wife of Alastair Beaufolle. Finally, she gave a small nod.

"Who am I to stand in the way of young love?" There was wistfulness in her tone. "If I had known this was the reason, I would have been a bit less harsh in my punishment."

Mena looked confused and opened her mouth to speak. He grabbed her hand, knowing that the unexpected physical contact from him would shock her into silence. Louis had not been raised to display affection in public.

"Thank you, Mrs. Beaufolle," he said as humbly as possible.

"Why don't you try Chou's Tea House? The tables outside are nice this time of year. I'll come get you once Uric and I are done."

Louis nodded and began to pull Mena through the crowd with him towards the tea house.

"Louis!" she yelled after a few paces, finally finding her tongue. He pulled her closer to him.

"Quiet. We need to talk alone. Without Uric," he whispered fiercely in her ear, all the while aware of Mrs. Beaufolle watching them with a knowing smile on her face. Mena was silent until they reached the tea house.

Chou's Tea House had been set up by a Chinese wizard about five years ago. The Oriental trappings should have looked strange in a place like Diagon Alley, but they blended in as if they belonged there. Mr. Chou was said to specialize in fantastic Chinese herbal blends, and Louis was considering asking for something to soothe his nerves - and maybe Mena's as well. She was clasping his hand so hard that he was beginning to lose feeling in it. He let go to pull out a chair at one of the many tables for her. She didn't sit down.

"Did she imply that we were seeing each other?" she asked in a scandalised tone. It had taken her this long to realise that? He gave her a hard look.

"Yes, she did. Is that a problem?"

"Well, yes..." Mena trailed off, and Louis gave up holding the chair out for her and sat down in his own, disgusted. At least he knew her feelings on the matter now. There was an awkward silence.

"What's so important that we have to talk alone?" she asked. Apparently, she wanted to change the subject as much as he did.

"It's Uric," he said shortly. His eyes were trained on the tabletop. He should have thought of a different plan to get them away. Her reaction was going to bother him for days, when it shouldn't have bothered him at all. He had already decided ages ago that a relationship with Mena would not be... practical.

Mena must have gotten fed up with the silence. "And?" she asked just as the waitress approached them. Louis let her order for both of them, using the time to recall the real reason they were here.

"I noticed he was acting strangely after our demon encounter in Paris, but we were all out of sorts, so I let it be. He was quiet once we got back to the Beaufolle manor. I think his parents assumed it was due to our punishment, but have you ever seen Uric remain depressed or quiet for long?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "Any time I asked him what was wrong, he would respond with a useless question to put me off. The silence didn't last, though, and he returned to normal. I charitably ascribed that period to his recovering from our trip, but then I started actually listening to what he was saying, or rather how he was saying it. The odd ideas were his, but the phrasing and timing were off. I'm afraid that in a few weeks, no one will be able to tell the difference."

"Just get to the point, Louis!" said Mena. He ignored her outburst. It had been too much to hope for her to remain silent for the whole explanation.

"There have been other signs too. I watched him deliberately kick a house-elf, though he apologized to it afterwards, and a couple of nights ago, I saw him take a bite of pudding before he noticed me watching him.

Mena sat up straighter. "He ate pudding?" She looked as worried as he felt. "Then he can't be Uric."

"Who can't be Uric?" asked new voice.

Both of them froze and looked at the speaker. Louis was glad it wasn't Uric, but their visitor might cause another type of trouble.

It was obvious Varys Nachleen was a Ravenclaw. If the bulging satchel of books hadn't given it away, then the blue and silver kerchief wound proudly around the straps and coincidentally showing off the Head Boy's badge would have. The tall, dark-haired boy radiated curiosity.

Varys had been their worst enemy for the first few years at Hogwarts. Louis thought he was jealous of Uric's effortless genius, and, more importantly, of the attention Uric received from his father. It was telling that Mr. Beaufolle had had to rescue both of them during the Abolition crisis. But Varys was intelligent - Louis had to give him that - and he had abandoned his old grudge sometime in their third year. Thereafter, he had ignored Uric completely and treated both Mena and Louis with indifference. His approaching them now was a highly suspicious change of pace.

"Hello, Varys," said Mena.

Louis was shocked for the second time in the day. Had she sounded nice?

"Hello, Mena." Varys smiled at her, then looked at him. "Louis." He pulled up a chair and sat down without being invited. "What seems to be the trouble with that oddball friend of yours?"

"Why should we tell you?" asked Mena. She didn't sound half as angry with Varys as she should have been. This was a private conversation, after all. "And he's not an oddball."

Varys looked sceptical. "I can still remember the second task of the Triwizard Tournament."

"It wasn't his fault the giants wandered in that direction," protested Mena.

"Try telling the giants that," responded Varys, amused. The two of them stared at each other until Mena blushed and looked away. Beneath the table, Louis gripped the top of his thigh hard enough to numb it.

"You didn't explain why we should tell you anything," he said, unable to hold his tongue any longer. Varys had a reputation at school. With a father on the Wizarding Council and classical good looks that the girls had begun to notice years ago, he was considered one of the most eligible young men at Hogwarts. Varys seemed to enjoy the attention, but that didn't mean he could flirt with Mena right in front of Louis.

"I'm Head Boy," said Varys. "All the students, including Uric, are my responsibility - and with the trouble he usually gets into, I have a right to be concerned. I know Uric wasn't simply ill last year."

"It didn't stop you from taking advantage of it, though," pointed out Louis.

"He wouldn't have been named Head Boy anyway," said Varys grimly. Louis agreed, but he wasn't going to say so.

Varys looked between the two of them, then turned to Mena, who was lost in thought. "I'm sorry." And that was it. He didn't say for what, though they all could think of plenty of incidents it applied to, nor did he explain why he was apologizing after all these years, but Louis suspected it had something to do with the way he was eyeing Mena.

He waited patiently for Mena's outburst. For her cry of denial. For her accusation that a simple apology was not enough. For her to point out that Varys still didn't like Uric - but it didn't come. Her cheeks reddened prettily as she and Varys stared at each other.

"You should be telling Uric this," she said finally, with little conviction in her tone.

"I will," Varys assured her confidently, giving her a smile. "But I can't do that if something is wrong with him." He turned to Louis now. "I can help you."

How convenient that it will impress Mena as well, thought Louis in disgust. He considered the offer reluctantly, though. Varys was the only one of them who might be able to find an answer. As a Muggleborn, Mena was poorly placed for the research this might require, and Louis could do nothing while he was staying with the Beaufolles. There was always the chance that Varys would tell on them - but considering what Louis thought had happened to Uric, who was going to believe him?

Mena took the decision from him.

"Uric is acting odd. Well, odd for him, at least," she said. "Louis was about to explain what he thinks is wrong with him when you walked up." She obviously expected him to continue the conversation, and after a moment, Louis did. If she wanted Varys to know, then let him.

"I think he's possessed," he said flatly.

Varys looked startled. "By what?" he asked. There was no way Louis was going to explain the situation to him.

"A demon, I think," said Mena. The years of her being shocked by anything that happened around Uric were long past. "We ran into one in Paris."

"In Paris? You do get around, don't you?" asked Varys jokingly.

"Mmm," responded Mena, deep in thought. After a moment, she looked up to meet Louis' eyes. "But what do we do about it?"

"We get it out, obviously. Muggles use exorcism, don't they?" He pronounced the unfamiliar word uncertainly. He probably had the most thorough grounding in the Dark Arts of any of them, but he had never focused on demonology - he knew better than to get involved in something so risky.

Mena nodded reluctantly. "They do, but that involves a priest. I don't think we'll find one that is willing."

"Not to mention it's illegal to approach a Muggle with something like this," said Varys. He looked serious. "If I understand correctly though, it's the ritual that's important. We could probably exorcise him ourselves after I do a bit of research." He sounded confident. "You two are welcome to help me."

Louis declined, unable to shake the feeling that Varys had known he would, and watched sourly as Mena accepted the offer.

"Is tomorrow good for you?" Varys asked. She nodded shyly.

"All right. I'll see you here at noon. Hopefully, we'll find enough information to get the demon out before school starts. Can you imagine a demon at Hogwarts?" Varys shuddered, but he didn't sound too worried. "I had better be going. Good day, Mena. Louis." He hefted his bulging satchel and weaved his way out of the tiny group of tables and chairs.

After watching to make sure he was really gone, Louis turned to Mena. "It's going to be extremely dangerous to attempt this ourselves."

Mena looked annoyed. "Do you have any other suggestions?"

Louis shook his head no.

"Then I think his plan is good," she said. Louis had just opened his mouth argue more, when he saw Mrs. Beaufolle approach, looking worried. He fell silent, waiting for her to reach the table.

"Have you two seen Uric?" she asked. Both of them shook their heads and Louis closed his eyes against the sense of dread that was building in his stomach. Their exorcism might work, or it might not. He couldn't afford to worry about Varys now. But what was the demon going to do with Uric's body in the meantime?

*****

He was standing in a doorway of the area they called Knockturn Alley. He wasn't sure why the boy with the sharp green eyes had wanted to meet with the girl alone, but he had decided to take advantage of the situation. It had taken a bit of work to lose that tiresome woman, who for some reason had claim over him, but he had slipped away in the bustle of the robe shop, going where its memories told him she wouldn't follow.

When he had first taken over this body, he had struggled with his host, attempting to gain the upper hand. This had been a mistake. It held a surprising amount of power for one so unassuming. However, its thoughts gave him another method of control. Distraction. It cost it power to keep it so diverted, but for the price of using this body... His hardest task had been learning to be it. Its actions were not like any of its kind he had encountered before, but that very fact worked in his favour. He had everyone fooled. Even this trip could be explained away with the excuse that he had seen a pumpkin with legs go walking by and had to follow it.

He was startled to feel two hands gripping tightly at the back of its-his - robes. Turning around, he nearly knocked the creature over. He could feel the unexpected smile spreading across his borrowed face. Reaching down, he pulled the creature up, ignoring they way it clung to his chest, sobbing softly.

"Master... Master."