Montane Hope

Chapter 8 (of 16)

* * * * *

"The manticore superficially resembles a lion with a scorpion's tale - or, more rarely, a dragon's. That one we saw was definitely like a scorpion, wasn't it Harry? Similar to the skrewts."

"Hermione, we're supposed to be learning about phoenixes and hippocampuses this year."

"I know Ron, but this is interesting. Manticores can talk, you know, it's only because they're so violent that they're not classified as intelligent beings."

"Like trolls are intelligent creatures," said Weasley, a sarcastic edge to his voice.

"That's true. You can't say that Trolls aren't violent - and they're not very clever. Probably manticores should be reclassified."

"What's it going to be now, SProDMA.?" Potter interrupted. "C'mon Hermione, manticores eat people."

"SProDMA?"

"Society Promoting Dangerous Magical Animals," he explained.

"The ministry would have tried to exterminate them - but Dad says you can't find a wizard anywhere willing to look for them."

"Isn't it fantastic that we've seen one. They're really very rare," Hermione enthused.

"I'm not sure that fantastic is quite what I was thinking. More like, 'let's get out of here before it wakes up.'"

Potter glared at Draco as he sauntered over to their table and leaned over Granger's shoulder to look at her copy of 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them'.

"Not starting another SPEW are you Granger?" he said quietly in her ear. "What is it this time, mistreated manticores? After the skrewts I would have thought..."

"What are you doing in the library Draco?" demanded Potter.

"Just browsing." He waved the book in his hand. "I'm not interested in weird creatures myself - just thought that if you're going to start giving manticores fluffy scarves and comfortable homes - well, you really ought to tell the rest of the school."

"When I get a pet manticore, I'll be sure to introduce you," said Granger, closing her book and edging away from him. Draco's smirk spread into a grin.

"I'll look forward to that." He sauntered off to the restricted section with his book, just out of sight of the three.

"What's he doing, spending so much time in the library?" he heard Potter say.

"What are you blushing for, Hermione?" That was Weasley.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just look at that picture - did you know about half of them are born with human heads and half with oracau heads?"

"What's an oracau?"

"Sort of an eagle, they've got wings too if they're like that. Look a bit like a hippogriff, but extremely dangerous..."

Draco moved away, searching for the book on Vanishing Ships Snape had told him about. He suspected that Granger hadn't told her friends that he was taking Subneorancia lessons as well. Surely one of them would have said something by now if she had.

A moment later their chairs scraped back and he heard Weasley's voice again. "Let's go find Neville. Hermione, you're coming to watch us practice Quidditch, aren't you?"

Draco could have sworn she glanced in his direction before assenting. When they were gone he went to their table to try the priori objet charm - Granger had a knack for finding the books he wanted to read before he did.

*

"First day of spring - do you think we'll see any daffodils?"

"Maybe. It's not really spring in this part of the world," Draco replied. It was Saturday the first of March and the first Hogsmeade day that Lisa had graciously condescended to accompany him to town - as he said it. Every other Saturday she'd had heaps of homework to catch up on, and he'd ended up hanging out with Pansy and Blaise - not as if they needed company! Lisa exclaimed over crocuses and new leaf buds as if she'd never seen them before. Once they'd got supplies at Honeyduke's and very thoroughly perused Zonko's, they followed the well-worn trail to the Shrieking Shack. A few students were gathered by the Shrieking Shack, telling the old stories. It was supposed to be the most haunted house in Britain, but although most of the adults around Hogsmeade told of bloodcurdling howls and shrieks emanating from it, none of the students had heard anything for years. Draco had been tempted to dare Crabbe and Goyle to sneak out at night and see if it still made noises. They might just about have been stupid enough to do it - but it wasn't worth them getting caught and his father finding out.

A first year Ravenclaw sat on the damp ground staring at a tree - or so Draco thought. When they got closer he saw that she was drawing on a piece of parchment, and using different colours of ink to fill it in. He grabbed Lisa's hand and ignored the whistles that followed them as they continued on past the Shrieking Shack. He'd never explored the hills behind Hogsmeade before.

"Look - snow!" Lisa ran forward and went straight in over her head, floundering forward to make a ditch.

"Lisa!"

"Come on, Draco. Let's get to the other side and make a snow castle."

"Lisa, there's water under that!"

The pond was frozen solid - but just in case, Draco lay down and slithered along the ice, arriving at the other side soaked and blowing on his hands with cold.

They made snow castles and snow men and moats and tunnels, then slung handfuls of snow at each other.

"Look,' called Lisa, pointing towards the castle.

Draco dropped an armful of snow on her.

"You missed it, why didn't you look?"

"What was it?"

"I don't know, something wispy like a cloud. If I didn't know better..." Snow started drifting down, obscuring the view of the castle.

"No-one really knows what a Boggart looks like when it's on its own, do they?"

"What would it look like if you looked at it?"

"Looks like me - but with only one arm. What if you looked at it?"

"Werewolf. How come yours isn't scary?"

"What do you mean it's not scary? How would you like to only have one arm?"

The snow was wet and cold now, a heavy sleet. Draco shivered and stamped his feet.

"Let's go. I'm sure there's no such thing as sleet in civilised countries."

"Like Antarctica."

*

Draco was sitting on his own, in front of the main entrance the next day, looking out at the grounds. "Wow, and this is supposed to be spring!" he exclaimed as a brilliant flash split the sky. Balls of ice bounced off the steps at his feet and coated the grass in a blanket of white. The door swung open behind him, crashing back against the wall. "Hello Proctor," he said in a response to a small chirping noise. Proctor's eyes were wide and scared looking as she hung onto Pansy's arm, digging her claws in.

"Just look at this!" Pansy closed the door behind her. The hail was bouncing and jumping as it fell, stones of ice the size of garden peas. "I really wanted to go down to the lake today."

"So did I," said Draco. "Thought I might have seen the giant squid." Thunder rumbled and growled, making Proctor claw her way to the top of Pansy's head in fear.

"Let's go," he said.

"What - you're kidding, aren't you."

"If we both go," said Draco, "one of us will probably survive."

Pansy pulled Proctor off her head and tucked her under her robes, then started running. Draco skidded and slipped on the wet grass, holding his hands up over his head as he ran. The hail stung wherever it hit bare skin.

When they reached the lake the surface was a boiling mass of foam. Draco followed Pansy under a tree, doubtful now that they would see anything.

"Hey, look out!"

"Potter!"

"You just stood on my hand Pansy."

"What did you leave it there for Parvati? Honestly, what are you two doing out in this weather?" Proctor jumped to the ground and crashed up into the tree, coming to rest on a branch overhead.

"What are you two doing down here? Have you been burned, Malfoy?"

Draco didn't bother replying. He knew his face was red from the hailstones. Parvati Patil was leaning against Potter on the other side of the tree. They didn't have much view of the lake there, but it didn't seem to worry them as they were partly sheltered from the weather. Turning his back on them, he turned and watched the hail hissing down into the water and disappearing.

"There, did you see it?" The squid had raised several tentacles above the surface. A moment later he saw it again. Was that an eye?

"Oh - it wasn't the squid I came to watch," said Pansy, irritated by his excitement. "If that big monster gets out of the way we might see a hippocampus."

"Trying to be a teacher's pet, Pansy? I'd never have thought it."

"I happen to be interested in them," Pansy told Parvati. "At least we're learning something worthwhile in Care of Magical Creatures this year." She launched into a long monologue on hippocampi and tadfoals, kelpies and murtlaps. Parvati nodded every once in a while and tried to look intelligent, but Draco noticed her eyes glazing over.

"Look - there's one and another. Oh - I knew it would be worth coming."

"That's just foam Pansy," said Potter.

"No, look, there's a tadfoal too. I'm going closer. Stay there Proctor."

The hail had almost stopped. Draco was inclined to agree with Potter - the waves were whipping up quite a foam - until he thought he saw one. A moment later he was certain. It rose up with a wave, galloped a few paces and then sank under water again. The other adult appeared, head and flowing mane rising out of the water. Behind it a smaller version was gallantly struggling along - the tadfoal. As it sank Draco caught sight of the long tail fins.

Potter walked out on to the beach, turning stones over and picking some up to look underneath. "Be careful Potter," called out Draco, "I didn't think you liked swimming." Potter looked up, trying to make eye contact. Failing, he picked up a stone and left, Parvati hanging onto his arm.

"You shouldn't have said that," said Pansy. "He'll be wondering how you know."

"I was just teasing. I wouldn't like water much if I'd been trapped by it either. What's that?" He pointed at a little animal Potter had disturbed. It looked like a rat, except when it stood perfectly still.

"Murtlap. Hagrid brought a tray of them to Care of Magical Creatures a few weeks ago. This one must've escaped." She held her hand out to the little rodent, allowing it to sniff it. "They're very useful creatures, normally live by the seashore pretending to be part of the vegetation. Murtlap essence will heal just about any skin condition."

Draco pointed to the sky - it was turning grey again. Pansy looked regretfully back at the lake as she scooped Proctor up. She looked as though she was tempted to run backwards looking at the lake, so as not to miss anything.

*

Draco and Pansy just made it back to the front doors as the clouds started chucking their hail down, even more violently than before if that were possible. They pushed through all the kids that were waiting, hopefully, for the weather to clear and were heading towards the dungeon when they heard a scream from the second floor. Draco rolled his eyes back.

"Better check it out. We are prefects after all."

"Why anyone would make you a prefect I just don't know," Pansy retorted.

"Dumbledore recognises leadership qualities and gorgeous looks," returned Draco, smoothing his hair as they ran. She would have laughed, if it hadn't been for another piercing shriek overhead. Then another, a different person this time.

"I think we should be running the other way," gasped Draco. "Sounds like a banshee."

When they reached the second floor corridor there was a crowd of students hovering anxiously over a third-year girl. She was unconscious. Another shriek made Draco look towards the end of the corridor - an old hag was advancing menacingly on a first year, who stood trembling, with his back to the wall.

"Um," gulped Draco. "I think you could get all the students out of the corridor and I could go and fetch a teacher."

"Don't you dare," hissed Pansy. A first year girl had run towards the hag with a broomstick in her hand. She stepped in front of the boy and raised it - Draco closed his eyes, sure she was going to belt the hag into next year - then the broomstick fell out of her hands. The hag was gone, the girl was looking at a monstrous jellyfish with slithery, grasping tentacles.

"What is it," another first year asked. The students looked totally bewildered.

"Come on," said Pansy, pulling Draco along. 'It's a Boggart, you can deal with that."

Before they reached the Boggart it turned into Professor Snape. Another girl turned her eyes up and fainted just as the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher burst in from the other end of the corridor, closely followed by Professor's McGonagall and Snape and a large trunk. Luckily the Boggart turned into the Dark Mark before Snape saw it in his own form. "Riddikulus," said Pansy, flicking her wand. It crumpled and fell to the earth. Draco was ready when it rose as a werewolf. He concentrated hard on old Jasper - his friend's toothless labrador. Raising his wand, he prepared to speak the charm that would defeat it for the second time when the new Professor jumped in front of him. The Boggart turned into a screaming baby. McGonagall levitated it with a flick of her wand and sent it whizzing into the trunk, and Snape snapped the lid shut. Draco was still looking at the trunk wondering what had just happened - and why? when he realised Snape had ordered him to help. Dragging his eyes off the jumping, shuddering box, he woke the unconscious third year and assisted her to the hospital wing. Snape was telling off one of the first years. "Fifty points off Gryffindor for being in possession of a broomstick, Kayla, you know it's not permitted."

"It's thanks to little Kayla we don't have more kids to enervate," whispered Pansy as soon as they were out of hearing.

"At least he didn't see the Snape-Boggart."

"That screaming baby though. What's all that about?"

"More to the point, what do they want it for?"

"Want it?"

"That trunk." Draco talked slowly as though explaining to a child. "They kept it."

"Why would a professor want a Boggart? That's silly."

*

By the time Pansy and Draco reached the common room it was late afternoon. Marv Elddir had a small group of kids sitting on the floor round him. Draco promptly walked over and sat down, cross-legged. Marv glanced nervously at Pansy.

"Don't let us stop you," said Draco. "You were telling a story."

The younger Slytherins begged him to continue so, with another nervous glance at Pansy, he did.

"Long ago, before Headmaster Dumbledore was born, these events took place in a small house on the Cornish coast. That is, before the Dark Lord rose but after serpents were formed, there was a man called Salazar Everest. Salazar was the only direct descendant of Slytherin at that time.

'Salazar was an ambitious man, like all true Slytherins. He was an innovator, with the fastest mind that Hogwarts had known for centuries. When he was expelled - apparently for rule breaking but really because he was just too clever to handle - he taught himself from all the books he could get hold of. Gradually his power increased, and although he did not challenge the Hogwarts or the Ministry of Magic directly, other wizards were starting to get nervous. They thought he was planning the greatest coup of all time."

Marv paused theatrically. He didn't continue until the first years started to stir restlessly and demand to know what happened.

"Salazar was thirty years old when he moved to a small house, in Cornwall. He never returned to Slytherin Manor. Whatever he was planning, we'll never know, because his son sent a snake into his bed one night - it swallowed him whole, while he was still alive."

Draco nodded, he knew how snakes ate. Some of the kids looked disgusted.

"The son by this time was master of Slytherin Manor, but he never had any luck and the Manor soon fell into disrepair. It has been empty for nearly a hundred years now. Meanwhile, in the house by the sea a young witch that Salazar had taken to live with him - some say he stole her and some say she went of her own free will - gave birth to a baby. Some said it was his baby and some said it wasn't. That was two hundred years ago.

'It is said that the house was set up expressly for the heir of Slytherin to continue his work, free from the prying eyes that were watching Slytherin Manor. The baby boy would have grown up greater by far than the Dark Lord we honour now. If he had lived.

"His mother killed him.

"And that, listeners, is why He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is the last of the great line of Salazar Slytherin. And why our Professor is terrified of a screaming baby."

Draco didn't realise he'd stopped breathing. The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor was over two hundred years old! That couldn't be right surely? The first years whispered loudly to each other, shocked and nervous at what they had just heard. When the noise died down a little, Draco stood up.

"While you're making up stories, Elddir, why don't you tell us exactly what Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall want with a Boggart."