Uric the Oddball and the Wild Hunt

Chapter 1: Coaches and Confrontations

Uric Beaufolle stood with his parents on the stagecoach platform. Today would be his first day at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry - if the stagecoaches ever got there.

He wondered if they had stopped for tea somewhere...

Large, hazel eyes stared out over the rapidly growing crowd of young wizards and their families. He checked his braid again. All the other first-year boys were wearing their hair that way, but his fine brown hair had a tendency to escape when he wasn't looking. Once he was assured of its continued containment, he risked a glance up at his parents who were standing on either side of him.

Father's dark brown beard hid most of his face, but Uric knew he was staring out at the crowd with distaste. It was disorganized and loud. Two things his father hated.

Mum's eyes were unreadable as they scanned the platform, and Uric knew she was worried by the way she crushed his hand.

For his part, Uric was secretly elated to be going to school. He loved seeing new things and Hogwarts seemed the perfect place to indulge himself. Maybe he could even test out his theory about flying dust rags replacing brooms. You used both of them to clean, after all...

"Uric!" His father was shaking his shoulder.

"Yes, Father?" he asked.

"None of this crazy stuff you hear? Don't embarrass me at school. Make sure you do your homework. Your mother will see you off. I have to get back to the Council." He swept Uric up in a hug then walked quickly away, absentmindedly accepting the greetings of his fellow wizards.

Uric watched him with pride. Father was a respected Council member and everyone knew him.

His mother fussed with his robes and hair, and he squirmed under her attention. She bent down so she could meet his eyes.

"Listen to me, Uric. I know you don't understand what 'crazy things' are, or even know what you're doing when you say such odd things, but you must watch yourself at Hogwarts. While you are there you are representing the Beaufolle family and our honour must be upheld. Do well, stay out of trouble and don't forget to make some friends." She kissed him and he made a face.

"Mum?" he asked.

"Yes, Uric?"

"Don't you think it would be easier if we all grew grass instead of hair? Then all we'd have to do is remember to water ourselves every once in a while." It would look especially good on her since her green eyes would match her hair, unless she forgot to water herself...

She sighed and kissed him once again on the head.

"Be good, Uric..." she said. He never found out what she was going to say because the Hogwarts coaches arrived.

Seven huge, dark purple coaches rolled into view. Each was drawn by four giant hogs. Their bristles dripped sweat and several of the girls screamed when they snorted fire.

Uric began dragging his trunk closer, joining the crowd around the entrance to the coach nearest him. The door of the carriage was decorated with the Hogwarts coat of arms on a shield of light purple.

It opened and the crowd shifted back. A short woman with curly blond hair stepped out. She was dressed in the black Hogwarts robes with a Chimaera embroidered over her heart. Her smile was grim as she looked out over the boisterous crowd of first-years.

Gradually, the crowd stopped talking and waited for her to speak. When she did, her mellifluous voice was strong enough to cut through the noise that surrounded the other coaches. Their students, Uric noted, were already being loaded, with a few stragglers wandering over to join the crowd around the blond lady.

"My name is Professor Baker and this is the first-year coach. You may give your trunks to the driver, who will place them up on top." She gestured to the roof, which was lined with rails.

"Students are advised to keep with them only the essentials they need for the journey. Snacks will be available. We ask parents not to enter the coaches, so say your goodbyes out here." Someone up front asked a question Uric couldn't hear. Professor Baker smiled down at the questioner as she answered.

"Don't worry. I'll be chaperoning them the whole way," she said. Uric noticed his mother had gotten a hold of his hand again and was squeezing it even tighter than before.

"Mum, my hand says it needs blood to live," he pointed out. She looked down at him and let go of his hand.

"Sorry, sweetheart. You'll write me if there's any trouble right?"

"Of course, Mum," he said, then gave her a quick kiss. She was beginning to make him nervous and Uric didn't want to be nervous. He eagerly dragged his trunk over to the driver, his mother trailing behind him. They waited as the driver loaded everyone's different trunks. The driver was a huge, hulking man with a bushy black beard and a large pear shaped nose.

Uric was taller than the other first-years, so he was able to hand the trunk up to the driver without reaching. It was slung onto the top of the coach with all the others and the driver just grunted when Uric said thank you.

Clutching the cage for his pet tightly, Uric walked over to the door of the coach. Most of the other first years were already inside. Professor Baker was leaning against the door, playing some type of game with a string.

His mother brushed a strand of brown hair out of her eyes, taking the measure of the woman.

"Professor Baker? I'm Lydia Beaufolle. This is my son, Uric," she said. The professor looked him over with disinterested eyes. He had the feeling she'd been introduced to a lot of students today. She stuck out a hand still covered with string.

"Nice to meet you, Uric." Professor Baker smiled at him encouragingly and motioned with her eyes for him to get in the coach. "Don't worry, Mrs. Beaufolle. He'll be fine." This didn't seem to assure his mother much.

"I love you, Uric," she called right before he stepped through. Professor Baker was gently steering her away from the coach. He turned on the step and waved, then entered the coach.

*****

The coach was, like many magical conveyances, much larger on the inside than on the outside. Four rows of ten red velvet lined seats, split down the middle by an aisle, took up most of the space. Great velvet curtains framed the enlarged windows.

It was loud in the compartment as nearly forty students tried to find their seats. Uric stood in the doorway, which opened between two of the rows, and tried to decide where to sit. He felt something poke his backside.

"Move your arse," said an annoyed voice behind him. He turned around. There stood a short girl with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. She absentmindedly pushed a strand of her stringy, blond hair out of her face revealing a large smudge on her cheek.

"Hello," he said, belatedly remembering to bow like he had been taught.

"I asked you to move, not bow." She pushed him into one of the seats in an effort to get past him.

"Ooof!" he exclaimed. The girl ignored him and went off to find a seat. Uric quickly forgot about her as he checked to see if the cage in his hand was all right. The heavy wool cover had slipped, revealing the cage's golden bars and its astonished occupant.

Uncle Melphicles was well known for his experimental breeding and he had a habit of foisting his finished experiments off on his relatives. This year, Uric had received one of his stranger experiments as a gift for his eleventh birthday.

The creature resembled a green lizard, about twenty centimetres long. Out of its back sprouted a set of light blue, feathery wings. Feathers also sprouted randomly at other places on its body, especially on its head.

It stuck its head out the bars and chirruped at him. Uric smiled broadly and pet its head with his finger.

"Hello, Simon. Enjoying your trip? It's very red in here, isn't it?" he asked. Simon chirped at him, in what Uric took as agreement. He could feel the coach lurch into motion and held the cage even tighter than before.

"What's that?" said a dark-haired boy peering into the cage. Uric was surprised to discover that kids surrounded him and Simon.

"Yeah, what is it?" asked the girl who had pushed him. Two other girls were making cooing noises at Simon.

"She's adorable," said one of them.

"It looks like some sort of bird-lizard," commented the other.

"He is a bird-lizard, but don't tell him." Uric lowered his voice. "He thinks he's just a bird," he confided.

"And just how are we supposed to tell him?" came the voice of a tall boy in the back. "None of us are exactly skilled at speaking to bird-lizards, are we?" Some of the others laughed. The tall boy smiled a mocking smile and began to speak in a lecturing tone.

"Interspecies breeding is frowned upon by the Wizard's Council due to the large death rate involved for the creatures and their handlers. I imagine that bird-lizard has some sort of flaw as well. It'll probably die of organ failure before Hallowe'en, leaving you without a pet." The boy didn't seem upset about that and Uric frowned angrily at him.

"He won't die! I've had Simon for months now!" he protested. It was very mean to say something like that, especially in front of Simon.

One of the boys reached into the cage to try to pet Simon, causing him to flap his wings and leap about the cage. Uric was forced to break off his glare to try to soothe him.

"It's a proven fact that half-breeds don't last long," said the tall boy, trying to continue the argument. When Uric didn't respond, he decided to try a different tact. "My name is Varys Nachleen. We know your creature's name is Simon. What's yours?" All the others had gone silent.

"Uric Beaufolle," said Uric, remembering his mother's admission about making friends, though he really didn't think he could be friends with someone who didn't like Simon. Varys held out his hand.

"Our fathers work together on the Council. It's strange how we've never met. You would think, two council members with children the same age..." he trailed off. Uric was unsure what he was talking about. He decided to change the subject.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like if spoons ruled the Earth? I don't think we'd ever be allowed to eat soup again."

They were all staring at him. He self-consciously patted down his hair. Maybe his braid had come undone. Suddenly, Varys began to laugh.

"You're completely bonkers. No wonder your father's been hiding you away," he said, still laughing.

Uric frowned at him. Was Varys insulting his father?

"He's not insane!" spoke up the dirty, blond girl. "They don't give Hogwarts letters to insane people."

Varys looked her over.

"You're Muggle-born aren't you?" he asked. The girl nodded unwillingly. "Then you wouldn't know that getting a Hogwarts letter only means you have magical talent. Nothing more."

"Personally, I think we all have to be a tad bit insane to play with magic like we do," came the lilting voice of Professor Baker. "Would you all leave Uric's poor bird alone and take a seat? Sometimes the hogs get feisty, and you don't want to be visiting Madame Reinhart on your first day in."

The students moved quickly towards their chosen seats. The blond girl slump down beside him. She stared down at her feet until everyone left, then turned to him.

"You just had to say that, didn't you? Spoons?!"

"Say what?" he asked. She looked at him sharply. Uric really had no idea what she was talking about.

"Never mind. Can I see Simon?" she asked, staring curiously at the bird-lizard. Uric nodded and handed her the cage.

"I'd take him out, but he's not used to this place and he might get scared," explained Uric.

Simon was letting her pet his head.

"It's okay. My name is Mena by the way. My father is guild master to the blacksmith's of London." She sounded very proud. "Is the Wizard's Council like a guild?"

"I don't know what a guild is, but the Wizard's Council is in charge of the wizarding world. It makes the laws and sets the standards that everyone must follow," he said. His father had explained this many times over the dinner table.

"And your father's on it?" she asked.

"Yes," said Uric proudly, "there's been a Beaufolle on the Council since 1128."

"Yeah, well there's been a Smith in England since before the beginning of time," she said in an annoyed tone. And with that, she turned away from him and began reading one of their textbooks.

Uric looked at her for a moment, then shrugged. He went back to contemplating his 'silverware ruling the earth' theory.

*****

Chapter 2: The Sorting Hat

Loud grunts and squeals signified their arrival at Hogwarts. Uric wolfed down his last chocolate frog (obtained from the snack bar in the back of the coach) and grabbed Simon's cage. He was one of the first out the door, since he was sitting so close.

The other coaches were nowhere to be seen. Their coach was stopped right beside a large lake. Tiny boats bobbed at its edge, tended to by a muscular woman. Her reddish- grey hair was pulled back in a bushy braid that hung nearly to her ankles. Professor Baker was talking to her.

"Where's the other coaches?" a child behind Uric asked loudly. Professor Baker looked over from her conversation with the braid woman.

"It is tradition for first years to travel to Hogwarts by the lake. This is Dasha." She indicated the woman beside her. "She will be taking you across." And with that, she walked determinedly towards the coach, ignoring all other questions. She pulled herself up beside the driver and motioned impatiently for the coach to depart. With a few snorts of flame they were off, leaving behind a crowd of bewildered first-years.

As one, they all turned to look at Dasha. Her pale blue eyes seemed to be looking through the crowd at the forest beyond. After a few moments, she finally noticed them. She made a face.

"All right. Four to a boat. Don't stick your hands in the water or the giant squid may tear them off." She got in to one of the boats and the first-years reluctantly followed, doing their level best to avoid the water.

Uric got in a boat with three other boys who didn't seem inclined to introduce themselves. As soon as they were all in, the boats began moving by themselves, sending up startled cries from some of the students. Uric tried one more time to catch the eye of one of his boat mates, then gave up and leaned over the side to stare at his reflection.

He was probably the only one to notice Mena, in the boat next to his, put her hand in the water and trail it along defiantly. Suddenly, a tentacle broke the surface, ruining Uric's reflection. Mena quickly put her hand back inside, and kept it in.

Soon, they could see Hogwarts. It was a grand old castle, much larger than the Beaufolle family home. Towers rose at strange angles to conjoin with buttresses leading to nowhere. Lights were flickering on to counter the growing twilight and Uric could see tiny shapes flitting in front of the windows. He had actually been here once before with his father, but that had been by Floo powder. The sight of the castle from the outside was rather overwhelming.

He was so busy looking up that the boat's abrupt docking threw him forward into one of the other boys. Dark green eyes glared back angrily at him.

"Sorry," said Uric. Luckily, the anger seemed to fade quickly away and the boy sighed.

"It's okay. I'm just a little jumpy." He gazed out over the lake and lowered his voice. "I don't like water."

"Really? I don't like pudding. I have dreams about how it's going to eat me. Once my mum left me alone in the dining room with some pudding, and it moved at least a foot trying to get at me. Come to think of it, pudding probably doesn't like me either," said Uric seriously.

The boy chuckled as if Uric as said something funny, though Uric couldn't imagine what, and offered Uric a hand as they stepped out of the boat.

"I'm Louis Iliescu," he said.

"Uric Beaufolle." They began walking towards the castle.

"I've heard of your father."

"Everyone has," said Uric proudly.

"So what house does he want you to be in?" asked Louis.

"House?" Uric was confused.

"You know. The four founders of Hogwarts. Each has a house named after him or her."

"Oh. Father didn't say anything," said Uric.

Louis seemed depressed by this statement. He looked even more forlorn than he had out on the lake.

"Lucky you," he said bitterly. His voice took on a mocking tone. "My father didn't technically say anything either. 'Here's your uncle who was in Slytherin and both your parents and, of course, your grandfather...' The list was endless. Then he repainted my room in the Slytherin colours. Talk about a hint."

Uric was intrigued. "So what will he do if you don't get into Slytherin?" he asked.

Louis considered this as they walked through the castle's doors and into the Entrance Hall.

"Probably stake me in the heart," he answered. "He could just disown me if he's feeling charitable...No. He'll stake me."

Uric gazed curiously around the Entrance Hall as the doors closed behind the last of the stragglers.

"First-years," said a quiet, yet imposing voice. Everyone looked around for its source. It was dark in the hall and Dasha was nowhere to be seen. The doors settled on their hinges with a loud boom, causing a few of the students to jump.

A figure stepped out of the darkness and a girl close to Uric yelped in surprise. The man was tall with dark hair and an aristocratic face. Two crossed wands were embroidered above his heart. The white wings gracing his temples lent him a dignified air, despite the bulge in his robes that indicated too much good eating. This worried Uric, but only because the man was standing on his toes.

"First-years," the man said again. Uric tried surreptitiously easing his foot out from under the man's. The man didn't seem to notice. "I am the Assistant Headmaster, Professor Stewart. I am also the Head of Ravenclaw and your professor for Defence Against the Dark Arts. I expect the utmost respect out of you at all times, especially during the ceremony you are about to partake in."

Uric could feel tears welling up in his eyes. Professor Stewart's foot would not move. He tugged on Stewart's robes.

"Excuse me," he said.

Stewart looked down at him.

"Yes?" His tone was icy.

"Can I have my foot back? I wouldn't mind normally, only my toes are starting to get offended." Uric's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "If I offend them too much, they might run off and then how would I walk?"

Professor Stewart regarded him with a look usually reserved for extremely rare pathogens and moved his foot off of Uric's. Louis, who had heard everything, was doing his level best not to snicker uncontrollably. Sparing a glance at Louis, Professor Stewart seemed to recover his earlier poise.

"Don't interrupt me again," he said in a cold tone, then continued his speech. "You will line up alphabetically according to your last names, then proceed in single file into the Great Hall. Stand in front of the teacher's table. Do not sit down, slouch or fidget. Once the hat is done singing, your names will be called and you will be sorted. Any questions?" He made to line them up, but a blond boy in the middle of the crowd spoke up.

"If my sister and I have the same last name, which of us queues up first?"

Professor Stewart looked annoyed with the golden haired boy, though Uric didn't know why, since he had asked for questions.

"What are your names?"

"Alexander and Alexis Lupin, sir."

"Since your name is first alphabetically, you line up first. Next time, try thinking logically before you speak," Professor Stewart said.

Alexander's cheeks were flushed with embarrassment.

"Now everyone line up!"

This was accomplished with much pushing, chatter and general mayhem. Professor Stewart looked angrier as each second ticked away and Uric was reminded of his father. Finally, they were all in a queue and quiet, so Professor Stewart opened the inner doors wide and led them through.

The Hall was huge, with four main tables already crowded with students. At the top of the Hall was the teacher's table, where Professor Stewart said they were to line up. Uric followed dutifully along with the rest of the first-years and found himself out in front of the school much sooner than he thought. The eyes of the whole school were upon them, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had never been the focus of so much attention in his life. Could you burst into flames from too much attention focused on yourself? This would certainly be a good test of his theory.

Professor Stewart stood in front of the first-years and addressed the teachers behind them. "May I present the first-years of 1680," he said.

Uric wanted to look behind him, but remembering Professor Stewart's instructions, stared straight ahead. This lasted all of twelve seconds, but at least he had tried.

"Thank you, Professor Stewart. You may sort them now," said a woman's voice somewhere near the middle. Uric risked a quick look, and saw a thin woman with blazing, short red hair and a narrow smile on her lips. She seemed to be taking great pride in the proceedings.

Professor Stewart fetched a stool and placed it in front of the first-years. He then took an old wizard's hat and sat it down on top of the stool. Uric ignored this, distracted by the fantastic sunset that was taking place on the ceiling above. The hat began to sing, but Uric barely noticed. After all, every proper hat should be able to sing, if nothing else. When the song was finished, Professor Stewart unrolled a scroll and began to speak.

"When your name is read, you will sit on the stool and place the hat on your head. Understand?" All the first years nodded, except Uric who was now trying to figure out what the tapestries on the walls depicted.

"Abascu, Ian!" The first boy in line walked up to the stool and even Uric found himself watching to see what would happen. No sooner had the hat touched Ian's head than it shouted out.

"RAVENCLAW!" Ian walked happily towards the table that was cheering on the left and sat down.

"Baker, Milford!" The short boy next to Uric headed nervously up to the stool. The hat spent a few seconds on his head before calling out.

"GRYFFINDOR!" Milford seemed surprised but walked happily towards the left-most table.

"Beaufolle, Uric!" called the deputy headmaster. Uric wandered up to the stool, taking a slight detour to get down on his hands and knees to peer at a spider making its determined way across the floor.

"Uric!" barked Stewart.

Uric glanced up at the red-faced professor and went to sit on the stool. There he sat for nearly a minute before Professor Stewart came up and angrily slammed the hat down on his head.

It was dark and stuffy inside. The hat smelled mouldy too...

"That is because Headmistress Kurze doesn't believe in cleaning me. If she had her way, I'd be burned and she'd choose the student's houses for them."

Uric was taken aback by the anger in the hat's voice. He decided to change the subject.

Do you like birds?

The hat seemed amused. "I'm the one who is supposed to ask the questions here Uric. Now let me get a look inside that head of yours..." The hat trailed off into an uncomfortable silence. Uric began to fidget impatiently. What if there is a world where all our fingernail clippings go and live in peace, in a land where no nail file may ever roam?

The hat's voice surprised him.

"Uric. Do you have any idea just how unique you are? I doubt I'll ever meet a mind like yours again, not that that isn't a bad thing..." The hat's sigh seemed to echo through Uric's brain. "These houses weren't made for you Uric, but I do see within you loyalty and love. That's not going to combat the fact that you're either a genius or insane, but at least they'll be tolerant of you in HUFFLEPUFF!"

Uric had time to think a polite thank you at the Sorting Hat before it was snatched off his head by an irate Professor Stewart.

"Hufflepuff's that way, Mr. Beaufolle," he said and pointed to the right, middle table. The table was still cheering as he made his way over and sat down. A couple of them patted him on the back, though Uric really wasn't sure why. He hadn't done anything special.

The fat ghost across from him greeted him jovially and introduced himself as the Fat Friar. Uric nodded politely. There was a ghost in the Beaufolle house known as the Mistress of Cups, due to the fact that she had poisoned herself over five hundred years previously. Uric had spent an entire day once following her silently around the house, until finally she told him to go away because he was making her nervous. He had wanted to know why she could walk through walls and he couldn't.

There was cheering again and he realized that nearly a third of the sorting was done. The line was a lot shorter and he could see some of the teachers clearly now.

"Harklenon, Justine!" called Professor Stewart. A pretty brown-haired girl walked up to the hat and was promptly sorted into Hufflepuff. Uric was nearly deafened by the cheering.

"Iliescu, Louis!"

Uric watched as Louis walked nervously up to the hat. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead by sweat. The hat covered his head and they waited for almost a minute before a shaking Louis came out from under it.

"SLYTHERIN!" bellowed the hat. Louis gave him a sickly smile as he passed, his face pale. Uric was happy that his friend had gotten into the house his father wanted him to be in. He didn't want Louis to be staked.

"Jabber, Icarus!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Kally, Meriweather!" The brown-haired girl was also sorted into Ravenclaw. "Kullman, Jasper!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Lupin, Alexander!" The blond boy walked quickly up to the stool in an attempt to remain calm in front of the whole school. He sat for a long time.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Gryffindor table cheered, though Alexander looked stunned. He sent a quick look to his sister for support, but she was staring at her feet.

"Lupin, Alexis!" Alexis was taller than her brother. While his hair was a dark blonde, hers was a silvery colour making it look almost white in the lights of the Great Hall. She surveyed the hall with a smirk on her face before gently placing the hat on her own head. It took less than a second.

"SLYTHERIN!" Alexis walked easily over to her chosen table without even sparing a glance towards her brother.

"That one's going to be trouble," said an older boy next to him. Uric turned to look at the boy. He had a square face and a nose that looked like it had been broken often. His eyes were grey and twinkled with some inner amusement.

"Why?" Uric asked.

The boy surveyed him with those twinkling eyes.

"Let's just say that I know who will be ruling the first-years in Slytherin house."

Uric didn't get it.

The boy just shook his head at seeing the puzzlement on Uric's face. "Never mind, Uric was it?" The boy stuck out his hand. "I'm Eustace Hebrides. Fifth-year and newly made prefect." He indicated the silver P pinned on his robes. "If you need anything let me know."

Uric nodded just as the table started cheering for another new Hufflepuff. There were only eight first years remaining to be sorted.

"Smith, Mena!" The dirty blond girl walked confidently up to the hat and jammed it on her head. It took a long time to decide.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" Mena jerked the hat off her head and stared about in bewilderment and growing dismay. Professor Stewart had to tell her twice to go to her table. She stalked over and rudely pushed Uric into Eustace so she could sit on the end. Mena buried her face in her arms and didn't look up for a long time.

"Welcome to Hufflepuff," said the Fat Friar politely to her. Uric was the only one who heard her muffled reply.

"Yeah. Welcome to Hufflepuff, Mena. Welcome to hell."