Of Keepers, Dragons, Pranks and Chests

After the lessons, they went to Hagrid's hut. Hagrid led them to the shed, and they squatted near the snake. Harry said to the snake gently:

'Hello. How are you?'

'Fine, thank you,' the snake said. 'Are you the Boy Who Lived?'

'Yes,' Harry answered. 'And how is your name?'

'I am the Flier in the Green,' the snake answered.

'Oh. And how do you like it here?' Harry asked.

'Very much. Plenty of milk and mice,' the Flier in the Green said.

'How did you came to be here?' Harry asked.

'Wanted to see new places,' the Flier in the Green said.

'My friend - the blond - says your kind live in Wales,' Harry said. 'It was a long way to go.'

'Yes, I am from Wales,' the Flier in the Green said. 'From the woods round Penllyne Castle. But I like this place better - and the giant. He is kind to me.'

'He likes all creatures,' Harry said. 'He's the gamekeeper. But he is only half-giant, actually. His father was human.'

'I see,' the Flier in the Green said. 'I wouldn't guess it.'

'Do you know many giants?' Harry asked.

'Yes. There are a lot of them in the mountains of Wales,' the Flier in the Green said. 'So I know one when I see them'.

'I see,' Harry said. 'May I stroke you?'

'Do,' the Flier in the Green said, and Harry stroked the scales that shimmered as a rainbow.

'How beautiful you are!' Harry said.

'Thank you,' the Flier in the Green answered.

'He is from the woods round Penllyne Castle,' Harry said to his friends. 'He ventured out to see new places, and he likes here better - and you, Hagrid. He divined your giant blood - says he saw a lot of giants in the mountains of Wales. His name is the Flier in the Green - very beautiful, I think.'

'The Flier in the Green, eh?' Mortie said. 'Sounds lovely.'

'But too long fer me,' Hagrid said. 'I'll call him Bobbie.'

'Just so,' Harry said. 'He can't pronounce this.'

'Very interestin',' Mortie said.

'Your new pet is even more interesting,' Blaise said. 'Can you imagine, Hagrid - a chest with hundred legs?'

'Reely?' Hagrid said. 'Where did yeh pick it, Mortie?'

'Comin' from your place to the castle,' Mortie said. 'It just followed me. Must have been a stray. I wonder what is the wizard who had such a familiar like?'

'Nothing on earth, I think,' Harry said.

'Care ter let me look on it, Mortie?' Hagrid asked.

'Any time you like, Hadrid,' Mortie smiled. 'It lives in my dormitory. Only be careful, or else, it bites you.'

'Thank yeh fer the warning, Mortie,' Hagrid said.

'What are they speaking of?' the Flier in the Green asked.

'A chest with about thousand legs which took a fancy to my friend - the blond one,' Harry answered.

'Oh, that?' the Flier in the Green said. 'It simply appeared.'

'From nowhere, you mean?' Harry said. The snake nodded.

'The Flier in the Green says the chest appeared from the thin air,' Harry translated to his friends.

'From a parallel world, then,' Mortie concluded.

'Most likely,' Blaise said. 'Well, that is that.'

'Well, Hagrid, we have to go,' Mortie said. 'Blaise has a wizards' duel with Malfoy, and I'm Blaise's second.'

'What happened?' Hagrid asked.

'Well, we pulled a prank on Malfoy, usin' the Splittin' and Levitatin' Charms,' Mortie said. 'Blaise was distractin' him.'

'With high words,' Blaise grinned. 'And there it is.'

'Good luck ter yeh, Blaise, an' good night,' Hagrid said.

'Good night,' Blaise, Mortie, Ron, Harry and Hermione said.

'Good night, the Flier in the Green,' Harry said.

'Good night, the Boy Who Lived,' the Flier in the Green said.

The four Gryffindors and the Slytherin went to the castle. Blaise went to the Gryffindor Tower with his four friends.

'I want to make sure that Malfoy won't get you, Blaise,' Mortie said. 'I'll coach you a bit.'

'Right ho,' Blaise said, and Mortie began to drill him. Ron and Harry sat to play chess, and Hermione to read.

At quarter past eleven, Mortie said:

'It is time, Blaise. Better to be early than late.'

'I suppose so,' Blaise said. 'Let's go, then.'

'Good luck, Blaise, Mortie,' their friends said.

'Thank you,' Mortie and Blaise said. 'See you later.'

Mortie and Blaise left the Gryffindor Common Room and went down a passage and a flight of stairs and down another passage to the empty Charms classroom.

'They're not here yet,' Mortie said.

'Of course, they have to pass three flights of stairs instead of one,' Blaise said. 'It's very inconvenient to go all this way to the library when you need it. You the Gryffindors are much more lucky at it, and as the decorations of the common room are concerned.'

'Yours is silver and green, eh?' Mortie said.

'Well, naturally, and the dormitories too,' Blaise said.

'Still, the Hat must have known what he was doing,' Mortie said.

'Yeah, it's my cunning that did it,' Blaise said.

'Yes, you are cunning, Blaise Zabini, and no mistake,' Mortie said. 'My grandfather would like you.'

'What, the Lord Peter Wimsey?' Blaise blushed.

'Yes, him,' Mortie nodded. 'Actually, Duke Peter later on.'

'I know,' Blaise said. 'I read all about him, and Uncle Basil has some friends who knew him.'

'He lived in France a lot,' Mortie nodded. 'He taught me French a bit. His French was irreproachable.'

'Yes, I remember this business with the article, when he guessed a lady's maid was really an impersonating male jewel thief, just because the rogue made a slip of the tongue and applied to himself the masculine article instead of feminine. In English it is all one,' Blaise said.

'Yes, and the jewel thief said he for the first time in his life met an Englishman who understood the French language so well,' Mortie smiled.

'You are like him in many ways,' Blaise said.

'Thank you, Mr. Zabini,' Mortie answered.

A sound of footsteps came, and Malfoy, with his gorilla-like henchman, Vincent Crabbe, entered.

'Already here, Zabini?' Malfoy said. 'Of course, you were in the Gryffindor Tower, weren't you?'

'It is none of your business, Malfoy, if I were,' Blaise said.

'Oh, oh, how touchy we are!' Malfoy said.

'Gentlemen, we have a business here,' Mortie said.

'You're right, Mortie,' Blaise said. 'We have.'

He brandished his wand, and Malfoy did so too. Mortie and Crabbe stepped aside.

'Serpensortia!' Blaise shouted, and a large snake appeared on the floor and crawled to Malfoy.

'Reducto!' Malfoy countered. The snake shrank.

'Tarantallegra!' Blaise said, and Malfoy's legs began to dance against his will.

'Deletrius!' Malfoy managed to utter, and his legs stopped to make kicks and shufflings.

'Stupefy!' Blaise exclaimed, and Malfoy froze. Blaise took Malfoy's wand and threw it on the floor.

'It seems the duel is ended, gentlemen,' Mortie said. 'I like your wand, Blaise. It is so white.'

'Wych elm, dragon's heartstring, ten inches,' Blaise said.

'Oh, wych elm? Do you know that it was once spelled w-i-t-c-h elm?' Mortie said. ' "He had a long white wand in his hand. I fancy it is made of witch elm".'

'Well, it is pronounced witch elm, like W-i-m-s-e-y is pronounced "whimsy",' Blaise said.

'And both are more economic,' Mortie countered.

'Just so,' Blaise agreed. 'And more elegant.'

'No doubt,' Mortie smiled. 'Wych elm in Latin is called Ulmus glabra - the smooth ash. Mine wand is plain Pinea abies - the European fir.'

'Well, good night, Mortie,' Blaise said.

'Good night, Blaise,' Mortie answered. Mortie went to the Gryffindor Tower and Blaise to the dungeons, where his House was. As Mortie entered the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron, Harry and Hermione asked him, all at once:

'How did it go, Mortie? Who won?'

'We,' Mortie answered shortly and triumphantly.

'Blaise was up to it, then?' Hermione asked.

'Yes, 'Mione. I am proud of him,' Mortie said. 'Put the Stunnin' Charm on him. He's not a Kneazle.'

'Definitely not,' Harry said. 'At-a-boy, Blaise!'

'Good work,' Ron said with approval.

'A great achievement,' Hermione said.

'Just so,' Well, I think we'd go to sleep, shouldn't we?' Mortie said. Ron, Harry and Hermione nodded. They went to their respective dormitories and lay down.

Next morning at breakfast Blaise was sitting at the Gryffindor table, and the Slytherins, especially Malfoy and Crabbe, threw at Blaise simply venomous looks.

'Mad because they were beaten, ain't they?' Mortie said.

'Yeah,' Blaise said and took another spoon of oatmeal.

Later in the day, when a free hour between the lectures occurred, Mortie went to his dormitory in the Gryffindor Tower and found by his bed Malfoy, his hand stuck inside the Luggage. Mortie raised an eyebrow:

'Oh, Mr. Malfoy! A misunderstandin' with my trunk, I see. Let me tell you it is not a common one, but you see it yourself by now, of course. Let this day be a lesson to you not to attempt such actions any more. Luggage, let him go!'

The Luggage loosened its grip on Malfoy, and Mortie saw Malfoy was holding the Secret Eye in his hand.

'Oh, so that is what the matter is?' Mortie said. 'Well, I warn you not to repeat this deed, Mr. Malfoy. Exit!'

Mortie put the Secret Eye back in the Luggage and stroked its lid affectionately:

'Good boy! You're better than a watch dog, Luggage!'

When Mortie related this occurrence to Blaise after the classes in the Gryffindor Common Room, Blaise shuddered:

'Here but the grace of God goes Blaise Alcide Zabini! And I haven't such an excellent trunk. The wizard who owned it before must be very sorry now that he lost it.'

'Or the witch,' Hermione remarked strictly.

'Or the witch, of course,' Mortie said. 'I think they certainly must be. Well, if they come after it, I'll return it. So your middle name is Alcide, is it, Blaise?'

'Yes,' Blaise said. 'And it isn't funny.'

'No, of course not,' Mortie said. 'Hercule Poirot wasn't a heap of muscles, you know, Blaise.'

'Just so,' Blaise said. 'Neither was Lord Peter Wimsey.'

'We small men are quicker,' Mortie added.

'That's a fact,' Blaise agreed. Harry smiled.

'But for you, Blaise, we would be much worse off than the Slytherins,' Mortie said.

'And I'm a Slytherin myself!' Blaise said. 'But better as it is.'

'That's very true,' Mortie said.

Let's go visit Hagrid and the Flier in the Green?' Blaise said.

'A good idea,' Mortie nodded, and they went to.

The next day Blaise was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room and writing the answer to Julien:

'Dear Julien, I am well. The Slytherins annoy me very much indeed, as always, but this Wednesday I got even with one of them, the most nasty of them all, Mr. Draco Malfoy. Young Mortie invented a most ingenious scheme, that is, to crawl to the outer wall of the Slytherin sixth-year boys' dormitory, to look through the wall using your invention, and when Malfoy shall be sufficiently distracted by me, to cast the Splitting Spell on the wall and the Levitating Spell on Malfoy, and then Finite Incantatem and to run away. The plan went successfully, but Mortie chanced to lose on the way his handkerchief, with his cipher - M and W under a viscount's coronet, and discovered it only when they were back in the Gryffindor Tower, but yours truly sent Macavity after the handkerchief, which he aptly recovered. I came into the Gryffindor Tower to inform Mortie that my efforts in distracting Malfoy - by high words, naturally, as we are no friends - resulted in Malfoy challenging me to a wizards' duel, and Mortie was to be my second. I fought and won over Malfoy, thanks to Mortie, who coached me a little in Charms the evening of the duel. Young Mortie praises me to Heavens, which is very confusing. Hagrid has a new pet, a Welsh winged snake, very handsome, whom he calls Bobbie, but whose real name is the Flier in the Green, and who came here to see new places and liked it here. Harry said so, he's a Parselmouth, you remember? And Mortie has a very strange pet - a chest on about a thousand legs, which eats crisps and bites uninvited guests. Mortie calls it the Luggage, of all names. I keep your Secret Eye in the Luggage, and very wisely, as it turned, for Malfoy tried to steal it yesterday. Thank you for your invention. Ron, Harry, Hermione and Mortie send their greetings to you. I hope to see you this summer too. All the best to you from your loving cousin, Blaise Zabini.'

'Let me lend you my owl,' Mortie suggested.

'Thank you, Mortie,' Blaise said.

'And I want to write a note from myself to your cousin,' Mortie said. Blaise nodded. Mortie sat to write:

'Cher M. de Vigenere, merci beaucoup pour votre invention petite et pour votre cousin extraordinaire. Il nous a sauve quand il paraissait que tout etait perdu. Il est tres courageux et intelligent. Je vous souhaite bien des choses, Mortimer Wimsey, le Vicomte de Saint George.'

Blaise put his letter and Mortie's note in an envelope, addressed it to 'M. Julien de Vigenere, le Chateau de Beauxbatons, Les Chenes, Vaucluse, France.' He went to the owlery and tied the letter to Honoria's paw. Honoria flew out of the window and hurried southwards.

At dinner in Beauxbatons Castle, when the owls with the correspondence flew into the Great Hall, Julien de Vigenere saw an unfamiliar tawny owlet descending to the table near him. Julien opened the envelope with a frown, saw a letter and a note, read them both and smiled. 'Good fellows, both,' he thought. 'This Lord Saint George knows his French very well, and he is very courteous and well spoken. The blood shows. And he is very clever, too. To devise such a scheme. I must send him more of my inventions and convince my parents to invite him for the holidays. But our Blaise is modest! 'Dear Mr. de Vigenere, thank you for your little invention and for your exceptional cousin. He saved us when it seemed all was lost. He is very brave and clever. I wish you all the best, Mortimer Wimsey, the Viscount Saint George.' H'm! But a chest on a thousand legs - that is a novelty!'