The Raven's Claw

The Ravenclaw Common Room was always a studious place. This suited the kind of students usually sorted into the House. There was a great, oak table in the middle of the room, which seated about twenty students comfortably around it. What most Ravenclaw students had in common was that at heart, they were all knowledge-seekers and bookworms. There was a sense of community amongst the witches and wizards of the house with regards to doing well in their studies. It was rare for a Ravenclaw student to be struggling with any subject, and it was almost impossible to imagine one failing.

Across one wall of the common room was a huge bookshelf. It was tradition for students to leave books for this shelf when they graduated, and the Ravenclaws' own library was quite expansive. Against another wall was the fireplace, with ornate stone eagles, their wings spread up and out, rising majestically from the top on each side. Hanging above these was a painting of the Ravenclaw crest. Grouped near the fireplace were several comfortable looking armchairs.

It was a fairly miserable October evening, and the fireplace was roaring. The Common Room was full, with students chatting or working. Alastair Shippington, a fifth year student, sat back in his chair at the table and rubbed his eyes. In front of him sat a mostly-complete essay for his Arithmancy class. It wasn't due for a few more days, but last minute rushing to complete homework assignments was something the Ravenclaws generally frowned at. Alastair prided himself on his work. Never had he received less than an E on any piece of work he had handed in. OWL level Arithmancy was at least a challenge, he thought, and he would be pleased to get this essay completed. Alastair was an unremarkable person to look at, with brown eyes and light brown hair, he was of average height, and average looks. The only thing that had really set him apart his whole life had been his intelligence. Ravenclaw had been the logical place for him, and he fit in the House very comfortably.

Alastair heard a triumphant sounding "Ah ha!" over the low murmur of conversation in the room. Several heads turned, along with Alastair's, to where his friend, Ashton Fripp sat playing wizard chess against a third year. By the looks of the game it was quite close, yet Ash had just gained a decisive advantage. One or two older students nodded appreciatively at the move Ash had made before returning to their own conversations. Wizard chess was taken seriously among the Ravenclaws. They organized their own in-House tournament each year, and Professor Flitwick awarded a prize to the winner. Last year, Ash had finished seventh, and was feeling optimistic about the tournament this year, as three of the students who had placed higher than him had graduated. He was hoping for top three this time around. Alastair had decided not to enter the competition this year, as he didn't want to lose the time he felt he might need for study, this being their most important school year thus far. By this point of the year however, he realized that it probably wouldn't have mattered.

He went back to his essay and had written a further two paragraphs when behind him, he heard the chess game end, and Ash sat down in the chair next to him. Ash had clear blue eyes, short blondish hair and a ready smile. He was mostly unaware of any attention given to him by female Ravenclaws on account of his looks.

"Phew," he said. "That was a close one. Young Angus there will be someone to watch in years to come."

Alastair looked up from his essay. "Congratulations," he said.

Ash shrugged. "How's that going?" he said, pointing to the essay.

"Oh, I'm almost there," Alastair replied. "How is yours?"

"I've done about half. I can finish it tomorrow. You know," he said, changing the subject suddenly, "I'm coming equal second now, but all my difficult matches are still to come. I'm sure I can beat Adney though, which will put me in a good position. Next year I can win the whole thing, I'm certain."

"Well," said Alastair "unless we get a new chess prodigy sorted into the House next year. Don't say it can't happen."

"Oh, don't talk like that, Ship," said Ash, with a grin.

Ash was the only person who referred to Alastair as Ship. In fact, Ash was the only person Alastair would have allowed to call him that. That was due to their long-running friendship. They had been friends since they were children. Their families had lived right next door the whole time, all of them firm friends. They'd had no hesitation sending the children back to Hogwarts that year, though it had been a worrying summer, following the Ministry's admitting to the return of Voldemort.

"Anyway, I'm off to bed," said Ash. "You think it will rain tonight?"

Alastair glanced at the common room window. It was pitch dark outside, and the window was a mirror. It had been threatening to rain all day, but had held off thus far. Normally out from that window there was a pleasant view toward the Quidditch pitch.

"Oh, I don't know," said Alastair. "I'm not the one taking Divination."

"Huh," said Ash, in mock indignation. "As though Astronomy is such a more worthwhile way to spend your nights!"

"Well I know you would rather be in bed dreaming of sweeping Hermione Granger off her Gryffindor feet, so yes, I do consider it a much more worthwhile way than that to spend my time."

Ash looked around in horror. "Not so loud, Ship!" he hissed "That is supposed to be a secret! I'm going to bed." Ash left for the boys' dormitory, and Alastair settled in to finish his essay.

He had just finished it, and was thinking that it was time for bed, when Tess Lyndon walked by carrying a book, toward the girls' dorm. She wished Alastair a sleepy goodnight as she passed. Tess was a Chaser on the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team. It was her second year on the team, and she was holding her own. He returned the goodnight, his eyes following her across the room. Her dark hair was back in a ponytail. She was attractive. Not quite like Cho, but certainly pretty enough to distract the unwary from an assignment. Alastair glanced around the room. He was the last student still up and was a bit surprised. He must have been working on the essay longer than he had thought.

His gaze rested on the painting above the fireplace. He liked to look at it when he was working, especially if he felt a bit stuck. The eagle was proud, with wings and claws outstretched. He felt inspired by it. The painting was unique among any Alastair had seen around Hogwarts, because this one didn't move. It was like a Muggle painting. He was about to look away and get moving for bed, when he noticed something. The eagle in the painting was different than the crests he had seen elsewhere. At least he thought it was. It might be the tiredness, he thought, but he was sure the claws of the eagle in the painting were painted differently. Alastair decided that he would investigate this, but now wasn't the time. Right now he needed to get to sleep or he knew he wouldn't be able to function properly in class the next day.

In the darkened dorm room, Alastair paused in his changing to look out the window. His dorm window looked out across the castle. Over that way he could see the Gryffindor tower. Growing up, all the kids wanted to be in Gryffindor. It was the House that all the heroes came from. Alastair was glad he was Ravenclaw, but some part of that childish longing was still there. Courage was to be admired, especially in these times. With the return of Voldemort, Alastair felt that Wizard-Kind was in need of heroes. Loyalty and hard work, which were the Hufflepuff's attributes, were to be admired as well. Of Slytherin, he thought that while ambition could be respected, that House seemed to nurture those who would become Death Eaters, and he felt it couldn't really be admired. Knowledge was where true power lay though, thought Alastair; neither strength nor ambition were of any use without it. Alastair turned from the window, finished changing and climbed into his bed.