The Toad Conspiracy

Chapter 4: The Hidey-Hole

After gathering up his spilled books and papers, Neville was already running late for his first lesson of the term. Sparing a quick glance over the piece of parchment Pyre had just handed him, he noted that he had Defence Against the Dark Arts first. Interestingly, the instructor was simply listed as Staff. As Neville hurried out of the Great Hall, he wondered how he would fare in what would undoubtedly be a very small class.

When he arrived at the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, however, he was surprised by how full it was and who was there. In the second row, Lavender Brown was sitting by herself, completely engrossed in tinting her fingernails a delicate shade of peach. Opposite her and equally engrossed in tinting her nails a pale pink sat Lisa Turpin. A trio of Hufflepuffs were clustered near the back of the room. Neville's two roommates, Michael Corner and Terry Boot, were seated together against the rear wall. In front of them sat three Slytherin girls, two of whom Neville was almost certain were sixth-years. His suspicion was confirmed when he spotted Ginny and Demelza seated across the aisle from them.

Was he in the wrong room? Neville dropped his schoolbag onto the chair in front of Ginny and fumbled for his class timetable, hopelessly crumpled from being shoved into the pocket of his robe.

'What's happening?' he asked Ginny and Demelza once he was certain he had read his timetable correctly.

'Looks like a joint N.E.W.T.-level lesson,' Demelza speculated. 'You know, to save resources.'

'I forgot that we'd be having the Ravenclaws in all our classes,' Ginny groaned. 'It's bad enough we have to live with them.'

Neville was about to agree when Luna entered the classroom, looking not the least bit hurried. She wandered toward the three of them and settled into the seat across the aisle from Neville and smiled at him.

Neville promptly dropped his quill.

'Er,' he mumbled, his neck beginning to itch again, and ducked abruptly beneath his desk to retrieve it. It had landed just to the left of Luna's foot. In the dim light beneath the desk, it was difficult to be certain, but it looked to Neville as though she was wearing mismatched socks - one blue and one black - something Neville himself did quite often.

Above him he heard Ginny asking Luna about her term timetable and felt a little kick of surprise to hear just how many lessons she had. She must have done extremely well on her O.W.L.s.

'Do you have any idea who's teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?' someone ask above him.

'Professor Pyre,' was Luna's reply.

'How do you know?' Neville asked as he emerged from under the desk, hopelessly dusty quill in hand.

'Because he just walked into the classroom,' Luna said, indicating the entrance to the classroom where Professor Pyre indeed stood.

The classroom, which had been filled with the low murmuring of students, became suddenly quiet. Neville wondered if everyone else was as puzzled as he was. How could Professor Pyre possibly teach both Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts in the same term?

'Good morning,' Pyre said in his low, gravely voice as he set a large and impressively worn book on the corner of the teacher's desk. 'As you have no doubt noticed, this is a combined Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson for both sixth and seventh years. Yet another of the changes brought about by the need to conserve resources.'

At the front of the class, Lisa Turpin raised her hand in a manner that reminded Neville of Hermione Granger. 'Please Professor.'

'Yes, Miss...' Pyre said, acknowledging Lisa with a raised eyebrow.

'Turpin, sir.' She dropped her hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Are all lessons being combined or just this one?'

Neville fidgeted slightly and glanced quickly at Luna. He had been wondering the exact same thing.

'All lessons, all years,' Pyre replied. 'What few first-years there are have been placed in lessons with the second- and third-years; fourth and fifth years have been combined. And then you.'

As if not to be outdone, Lavender raised her hand, beating Lisa's in the air by a millisecond.

'Yes, Miss ...'

'Brown. And does this mean you'll be teaching both Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts, sir?' she asked, her tone of voice conveying more than a little awe.

The corners of Pyre's mouth seemed to twitch slightly. 'Only for the first few weeks of the semester, Miss Brown.'

Neville sat up with a start, nearly knocking his quill to the floor again. They couldn't be cancelling Defence Against the Dark Arts* he thought, not at a time like this.

But Pyre continued, 'Throughout the year, all the Hogwarts teachers will take turns instructing you in defensive magic within their area of expertise. All magical knowledge can in some way be used in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

'I believe Madame Pomfrey will be teaching in the weeks directly following my tenure.'

'Madame Pomfrey?' Lavender exclaimed. 'But she's not a teacher.'

'She is, however, a very fine mediwitch,' Pyre countered. 'And at a time like this, adequate knowledge of healing charms can mean the difference between life and death.'

Neville could hardly imagine enjoying a lesson taught by the easily harassed and often impatient Madame Pomfrey, but he had no doubt that knowledge of healing and regrowth charms could be useful.

'Today, however, I'm afraid we'll be starting with something a little less dramatic, though no less amusing, than learning how to reattach a severed limb.'

Pyre flicked his wand at the massive tome on his desk causing it to spring open in midair, expelling a single feather from its pages before it landed with a solid thunk back on the desk. The expelled feather drifted down slowly until it settled on the stone floor of the classroom, midway between Lavender's and Lisa's desks.

Barely had the feather come to rest before Pyre whipped out his wand and bellowed, 'Foris!'

Then so quickly, Neville nearly missed it, the feather exploded outward and melted into the floor.

For a long moment, nothing seemed to have changed except that the feather had disappeared. From somewhere behind him, most likely from the cluster of Slytherins at the back of the classroom, Neville heard sniggering and a muttered, 'Vanishing a feather - that's first year stuff!'

Then, to his right, Luna said appreciatively, 'It's a hidey-hole!'

Neville glanced over at her. Her grey eyes looked especially dreamy as she leaned forward in her chair, and stared at the spot on the floor where the feather no longer lay.

'Very good,' Pyre murmured. 'Ten points to Ravenclaw, Miss Lovegood.'

Luna smiled serenely, her earrings, which today looked like fuzzy green mushrooms, swinging merrily in her hair.

Staring at her, Neville felt a powerful urge to scratch his neck as he wondered how Luna had recognised the hidey-hole (he still couldn't see anything but a disappeared feather) and, more importantly, why Pyre seemed to know her name.

Next moment, his bewilderment turned to awe, however, when another flick of Pyre's wand revealed a slim crack in the floor that soon grew, exposing a dark empty hole where none had been before.

'The Hidey-Hole Spell is a useful one to know when one is surrounded by enemies with no place to hide,' Pyre explained. 'Out of living matter, it creates a hole in the ground large enough to hide two full-grown wizards.'

This time when Pyre flicked his wand at the large tome on his desk, it spat out a small grey bird, which flew quite happily into the hidey hole, chirping merrily the whole way.

'A particular advantage of hidey-holes is that they cannot be opened by anyone except the witch or wizard who created them,' Pyre continued, another swish of his wand sealing the hole and silencing the bird's happy chirping. 'Though a simple spell can be used to reveal the existence of a hidey-hole,' he muttered an incantation that set up a green hazy rectangular outline on the classroom floor, 'the hidey-hole is completely impervious to attack from the outside.

'Miss Brown, would you care to try?' Pyre offered.

With a flick her hair, Lavender took careful aim and issued a volley of spells in the direction of the hidey-hole. Brilliant yellow sparks rebounded off the floor, sizzling magnificently in mid-air. And yet, the hidey-hole remained unmarked.

'Miss Turpin, would you care to join in?' Pyre asked, nodding to the Ravenclaw, who was only too eager not to be outdone by Lavender.

Together, Lisa's and Lavender's barrage of spells filled the air with bright blue and gold sparks. And still, the hidey-hole remained unmarked and unopened.

Neville marvelled at the resilience of the hidey-hole but couldn't keep himself from thinking about the poor bird sealed in the dark underground hole with no way to get out.

'Thank you both,' Pyre said, halting their pyrotechnic display. 'Had I asked everyone else here to join in, the results would have been the same. The hidey-hole is an excellent way to protect someone or something from attack. Regrettably, for this same reason, it has often become the unfortunate tool of many a kidnapper or thief.'

With another flick of Pyre's wand, the hidey-hole unsealed itself, and out flew the tiny grey bird, still twittering as happily as ever as it descended back into the pages of the large volume on the teacher's desk.

Pyre regarded the class gravely before continuing, 'Perhaps even worse, however, is the fate of the unfortunate witch or wizard, who locks her or himself inside the hole, only to find him or herself unable to perform the spell necessary to open it.'

'But sir,' Lavender had her hand in the air, 'can't you simply Apparate out of the hidey-hole?'

Pyre smiled. 'One would think so, Miss Brown, but the same protective barrier that prevents anyone from breaking in also prevents anyone from breaking out.' With that, he began to descend into the hole himself, his gradually disappearing form, revealing just how deep it was. 'The hidey-hole has alas become the final resting place for far too many a forgetful witch or wizard.'

An awful feeling settled in the pit of Neville's stomach as he watched Pyre vanish into the hidey-hole. He couldn't imagine a more horrific way to die.

With another flick from Pyre's wand, the hidey-hole sealed itself, leaving no indication that the stone floor of the classroom had just swallowed the Transfiguration teacher . Moments later, after re-emerging from the hidey-hole and assuring the sixth- and seventh-years that they would not yet be expected to attempt to open the open their hidey-holes from the inside, Pyre set them about the room to practice the spell in groups of twos and threes.

'Remember,' he counselled as he distributed feathers and leaves to each student, 'a hidey-hole can only be made from something that is or once was living.'

'What happens if we don't have something that was once alive?' Ginny asked. 'Can we use a rock?'

'Not advisable,' Pyre replied. 'Rocks have a tendency not to expand.'

'Can we use another person?' Pansy Parkinson called out.

'Not if you want that person to survive.' Pyre's solemn reply provoked a chorus of nervous giggles from Pansy's group of Slytherins and a few Hufflepuffs, but he continued quite gravely, 'In a few instances, living creatures that have been used to make hidey-holes have indeed survived. But these cases have been very rare indeed.'

Neville, found himself paired up with Luna, who proved herself quite adept at making the hidey-hole, though not nearly as good at re-opening it. Neville, perhaps because he was distracted by a persistent itch that seemed to wander from his neck to his ears to his nose, struggled even to master the spell to create the hidey-hole.

'You've almost got it,' Luna encouraged him as the leaf he was working with expanded brilliantly but failed to melt into the floor. 'Try it once more.'

Neville bit his lip in concentration, refusing to succumb to the sudden itch that had manifested itself where the sleeve of Luna's robe had brushed against him. Channelling all his frustration and itchiness, he shouted, 'Foris!'

And with that, his oversized leaf expanded even further and melted seamlessly into the floor. A flick of his wand revealed a hidey-hole that was several times the size of the one Pyre had created. Another flick sealed it shut.

'That's quite the hidey-hole, Mr. Longbottom,' Pyre's unexpected appearance behind them caused Neville to jump.

'Thank you sir,' Neville replied.

'Let's see you open it then,' Pyre insisted.

'Ah,' Neville gulped, trying unsuccessfully to recall the spell to open the hidey-hole. 'I seem to have forgotten the spell, sir.'

'Indeed?' Pyre raised a heavy grey eyebrow.

Neville felt his cheeks grow hot, and he recalled his earlier conversation with Pyre about his poor memory. Pyre would no doubt be asking Neville to return the Prefect badge at the evening meeting.

'Egress, Mr. Longbottom,' he reminded him as walked on to check on the other students. 'Always remember, Egress.'