The Eagle and the Badger

"I can't wait to see what the Hogwarts library looks like!" Mike said as they left the Potions classroom. "Do you think it has computers? Magical ones, I mean - but no, I suppose it's all torches and tomes."

The tawny-haired girl was nearly dancing on her toes with excitement at the thought of all the wonders the magical school must hold.

Lucia smiled at her new friend's enthusiasm.

"From what Scorpius told me," she said, "you're right abut the torches and tomes. He never mentioned anything like a computer, and Muggle machines don't work at Hogwarts. The magic interferes with them somehow."

She didn't mention her brother's description of the librarian, Madam Loftus. Probably he'd just been trying to scare her.

"Aren't you coming?" Ruth asked as Lucia veered off in a different direction.

She stopped and turned back, giving her new friends a rueful smile.

"I'd love to, but I can't right now."

"Well, all right, you'll have loads of time to see it, won't you? Coming, Ruth?"

The girls parted company, Ruth taking two steps to Mike's one, and Lucia walked back alone to the Ravenclaw common room. She wanted to have a good look at it in daylight, for one thing. There hadn't been time to take in the details before breakfast.

She was also determined to face a task she dreaded: writing to her mother. She had plenty of time before her next class to write the letter and take it to the Owlery - if she could find the Owlery, that is. Scorpius had told her about corridors that went nowhere and classrooms that moved. Perhaps the Owlery was in a different place now, too.

At the top of the winding staircase, she found Claudia Vector standing in front of the common room door. She turned at the sound of footsteps and regarded Lucia expressionlessly, the lenses of her glasses glittering in the torchlight.

"Go ahead," she said, indicating the brass eagle. "You seem to be the clever one."

Taken aback, Lucia almost blurted out that she'd never pretended to be clever, but she held her tongue and lifted the knocker.

It stands and dances without feet,

It smells without a nose,

It nods although it has no head

And stings if you come close.

In fact, the answer did seem pretty obvious. The verse wasn't as good as the poetry she'd read with her tutor, but the imagery was familiar.

"A rose," she guessed, sounding slightly more confident than she had the night before.

"Two for two, Miss Malfoy," the eagle croaked. The door swung open and Lucia went in. She hadn't meant to upstage her roommate, but she didn't feel like standing around, either.

In the light from its tall, arched windows, the Ravenclaw common room took Lucia's breath away. The high, domed ceiling sparkled with stars, a pattern repeated in the midnight-blue carpet. In spite of all the tables and chairs ranged around the room, it had an open, spacious feeling. Bookshelves stood against the walls, and handsome silk hangings in shades of blue and bronze hung above them.

Without a word, Clausia found a chair by the window and soon had her nose buried in a very large book. Not wishing to disturb her, Lucia crossed the room to look out a different window. The view, of mountains shrouded in a purplish haze, seemed to draw the eye into infinity, suggesting endless possibilities. Lucia began to understand why Ravenclaws dwelt in a tower.

She was procrastinating, she knew. With a sigh, she found an unoccupied table and took out her writing things..

She smoothed out the small scroll, dipped her quill, and thought for a long moment before beginning to write.

Dear Mother,

The trip to Hogwarts went well. Scorpius saw to it that I met some of his Slytherin friends, and I had plenty of time to start looking at my new books as well. I know I don't have to tell you about how splendid the castle is, or about the feast, as you experienced all those things yourself.

So far, I am getting on very well, I think. However [Here, Lucia hesitated for quite a long time], there is one thing I know will surprise you very much: [No use beating around the bush . . .] The Sorting Hat placed me in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin.

It was a shock, of course, but really, I don't mind. My new house seems to suit me quite well, and I hope you can be pleased about that. Scorpius, of course, is very disappointed, but I told him it was the Hat's choice, not mine. [That was true, as far as it went. She needn't go into detail about the long conversation she and the Hat had had before she left the decision up to it.]

I hope you will not mind too much. I plan to study hard and do my best to make you proud of me.

Your affectionate daughter,

Lucia

Lucia read the letter over again, decided it was the best she could do, rolled it up and tied it with a piece of narrow ribbon she retrieved from her trunk. Then she stowed her quill and ink pot and hoisted her bag to her shoulder.

Even with just a couple of books, it was quite heavy. She hoped the first year Charms curriculum included a Lightening spell of some sort.

"See you later," she called out to Claudia, who was still deeply absorbed in her reading. The girl showed no sign of having heard, so Lucia hurried out of the common room. Trying to put Scorpius' direction together with her prefect's, she went down several flights of stairs, then followed a corridor that changed direction several times. If she walked fast enough, she should easily get to the Owlery and down to the greenhouse in time for Herbology.

After walking for what seemed like ages, she stopped and glanced at her watch. Did she have the directions right? She looked around, not quite sure which way to turn.

"Well, well, if it isn't the baby Malfoy," sneered a familiar soft voice behind her.

Lucia whirled around, heart pounding, to see three older boys blocking her way, arms crossed, feet planted - and to her horror, wands out. She recognized them at once, of course: Scorpius' friends Pucey, Harper, and Nott. All three wore smirks of delight.

"Well, boys," said Pucey. "Now that we've got it cornered, what shall we do with it?"

Their laughter echoed horribly in the deserted corridor.

ooOoo

It took Hugo longer than he'd expected to find the Owlery and then his own owl. There were so many owls, including quite a few that looked just like Loki, with buff-colored backs and wings and comical, monkey-like white faces.

Soft hoots and rustling greeted him as he paused near the center of the large, airy room and peered uncertainly into the gloom. Quite a few of the owls were perched high in the rafters.

"Loki?" he called tentatively. Nothing happened, so he called again, louder this time. With a rush of wings, Hugo's owl swooped down and landed on his shoulder. Relieved, Hugo reached up to stroke the bird's soft feathers, then took him over to an empty perch to fasten on the letter.

"Take this to my mum and dad - you know, the Weasleys, Beech House, Ottery St. Catchpole." Hugo thought the clever bird probably knew which Weasleys to deliver the letter to, but he didn't want to take chances. There were almost as many Weasleys as there were owls in the Owlery.

Hugo gave Loki a treat, which the bird snatched greedily before flying off through the open window. Well, there was no turning back now. As he trudged out of the Owlery, Hugo pictured the expressions on his parents' faces as they read the letter.

Impatiently, he pushed the thought out of his mind. What was the point of worrying? It wouldn't change anything, and besides, it was silly. Hugo was quite sure his parents were not going to stop loving him just because he got Sorted into the wrong house.

Especially since Hufflepuff, so far, didn't seem so very wrong.

It did seem a long, long way down from the tower where the Owlery was located to the Hufflepuff common room. Trudging down yet another set of stairs, Hugo wondered briefly how the chubby prefect, Lynette, managed to stay that way. Then again, Hogwarts meals were more than generous . . .

Hugo snapped back to reality in a corridor he didn't recognize. What floor was he on? Which way was he supposed to go? He stood there, confused, until a pair of tall girls who looked enough alike to be twins came toward him from the other end of the corridor. Hugo judged them to be at least fourth years, maybe older. They'd surely be able to set him straight.

"Excuse me," he said politely as they came near. "Could you tell me where I am, exactly?"

One of the girls turned to the other, a smirk on her face. "Ah, firsties, it's a full-time job keeping them out of trouble, isn't it, Janice?"

The other girl nodded. "So true, Artis. You're in luck, though, little one. We know everything there is to know about Hogwarts Castle. See that tapestry?"

Hugo looked where she was pointing.

"Yes, of course." He was slightly miffed at her superior tone but thought it best not to pick a quarrel and risk wandering about for hours.

"Here's a shortcut you can take down to the second floor," the girl named Janice said, lifting the tapestry to reveal a door. "You'll be downstairs in no time."

"Thanks a lot!" said Hugo with a sigh of relief. As he started down the stairs, the door slammed shut behind him. The corridor must have been draftier than he realized.

Hugo started down the stairs. Though they were dimly lit, he soon caught a glimpse of something odd on one of the steps below him. It was round, like a Quaffle, but larger and very light in color. What would any sort of ball be doing here? he wondered.

As he got closer, he saw that the ball was covered with what looked very much like hair, and -

"Help! Please, whoever you are, help me!"

In his surprise, Hugo nearly tripped over the speaker. Just in time, he jumped the stair, landing safely, and turned back to examine the source of the plea.

Not only did the "ball" possess a face as well as hair, it was a familiar one, wearing a most unhappy expression.

"Lucia!" Hugo exclaimed. "How did you -"

"I was going down these steps, then all at once one of them just wasn't there, and now I'm stuck. Please, can you do something?"

Lucia's voice sounded tremulous, and Hugo felt a pang of pity for her. At the same time, he had to stifle a laugh at the absurd sight of a disembodied talking head.

Those blasted girls must be laughing right now, thinking they'd sent the "firstie" off to get trapped just as Lucia had been.

"You got caught by one of the vanishing stairs," he explained. "Now I think of it, my sister told me about a tapestry leading to a shortcut with one of these stairs, but I guess I didn't pay enough attention."

Lucia's lips were pressed together, and unshed tears glittered in her eyes, which Hugo could now see were dark grey - like pewter, only much brighter. She was obviously struggling to keep her composure.

"I didn't know it was a shortcut," she said angrily. "Some horrid Slytherin boys blocked my way and threatened to jinx me. They had their wands pointed at me, and I was sure they meant what they said. One of them offered to give me a head start and even pulled back the tapestry. They started counting to ten, so like a fool I ran for it. I've been trapped her for ages."'

"Yeah, a couple of girls sent me down here to get caught. I'm sure they're picturing me just where you are. It's a good thing I came along to get you out, though. This stairway doesn't seem to be too popular."

Hugo spoke with more confidence than he felt about getting the Ravenclaw girl free of the stair. He was not at all sure he had the strength to haul Lucia up, but he certainly couldn't leave her here.

"I'm going to try to get my arms under your shoulders," he said, after assessing the situation. Again, he stepped over her to a higher stair, for better leverage.

"I think I can reach down inside the stair and then lift you enough so you can get your hands free to push. Ready?"

Lucia nodded. "More than ready, believe me."

It was quite embarrassing, feeling around for a girl's armpits without being able to see where his hands were going, but Lucia didn't complain, nor did she protest when Hugo's first attempt to lift her failed miserably.

"Ugh," he groaned, as he struggled for leverage and felt his feet slipping on the worn stone step. Since the vanishing stair had nearly swallowed Lucia whole, he had no choice put to try to pull her straight up, but how was he ever going to manage that? If only someone would come along who knew how to Levitate a person.

After a few failed attempts, Hugo wiped the sweat off his brow and stood upright, his back aching from the effort.

"Maybe I should go get help," he suggested. "I'm getting nowhere."

The naked terror on Lucia's voice stopped him.

"Please," she begged, "can't you try once more?"

She didn't need to explain her reluctance to be left alone. There was no guarantee that the next person to happen down these stairs would be the helpful sort.

"All right," Hugo agreed. "You're not standing on something, by any chance?" he added hopefully. If she could use her legs to push, his job would be a lot easier.

"No, sorry," Lucia answered. "I seem to be just sort of hanging in midair."

With a sigh, Hugo reached down, braced himself and tried again. To his immense relief, he managed to lift the girl an inch or two, and he redoubled his efforts.

At long last, Lucia's shoulders emerged, and then her arms, which she used to help hoist herself free off the pernicious stair.

For a few moments, she and Hugo just sat on the stairs, panting.

"Well," Lucia said finally, "I don't suppose I'll forget where this particular vanishing stair is, will I?"

She said this with a wry little grin, and Hugo chuckled. "Me either. Unfortunately, there are others."

Lucia stood up and brushed off her robes. "Thank you," she said softly. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come along."

Hugo felt himself flushing a little. "No problem."

Lucia looked at he delicate silver watch and groaned. "I'm late for Herbology. And on the first day, too. I could kill those boys!"

"Can't say I blame you," Hugo muttered. "I feel pretty much the same about the girls who sent me down here."

Lucia looked at her watch again. "I'd better hurry," she said, heading down the stairs. "Thanks again."

"Look," Hugo said on impulse. "Why don't I come with you? Professor Longbottom's a friend of our family. We even call him Uncle Neville. Not here, of course," he hastened to add. "Maybe i could talk him into giving you a break."

Lucia started to refuse, but the Hufflepuff boy sounded so sincere that she didn't have the heart to.

"Are you sure you don't have something else to do?" she asked.

"Nothing important. Come on, we'd better hurry up."

They reached the bottom of the staircase, and with a glance around, Hugo recognized the corridor and was able to find his way back to the entrance hall. Hugo and Lucia hurried down the lawn toward Greenhouse One. As they drew near, they could hear Professor Longbottom's baritone voice. From the few words he caught, Hugo realized that the professor was well into his opening lecture.

Lucia stopped, not wanted to interrupt. It was so embarrassing to be late for class on her very first day.

Hugo tugged at her sleeve. "Come on - I'll do the talking."

He pushed open the greenhouse door, which swung back with a loud squeak that made him wince. At the sound, every head turned in his direction, including Professor Longbottom's.

"Mr. Weasley, I assume you have a good reason for breaking into my greenhouse?"

Hugo could tell that Uncle Neville was having to work at sounding stern, and his brown eyes held a suspicious twinkle. All the same, Hugo reddened as the class - Ravenclaws and Slytherins - erupted in giggles and guffaws.

"Yes, sir," Hugo said, unconsciously standing a bit straighter. "I told Miss Malfoy I would come with her because she has a good reason for being late - I was there to witness it, and - "

"Is that so?" said the Herbology teacher, still sounding almost convincingly severe. "Does this good reason preclude Miss Malfoy from speaking for herself?"

Hugo tried not to mind the titters and whispers from the students, who were obviously finding this interruption highly entertaining.

Lucia found her voice at last. "No, sir. I'm late because I got trapped by a vanishing stair, and I wasn't able to get out until Hugo - Mr. Weasley - came along to help me. If it weren't for him, I might still be there."

Muttered "aw-w-w"s from the Slytherin tables caused Lucia to blush furiously. To her further discomfiture, Professor Longbottom now looked openly amused.

"Ah, the shortcut from the fourth floor - the one hidden by a tapestry? I'm somewhat familiar with that particular stair. All right, Miss Malfoy, no harm done. Please take your seat and get out your book, parchment, and quill. One of your classmates can catch you up on what you've missed."

Lucia gave Hugo a grateful smile over her shoulder as she hurried to find a seat. Hugo lingered by the door until Professor Longbottom shooed him away with a wave of his hand.

"Your gallantry is commendable," he said, "but I think Miss Malfoy is safe enough for now."

Knowing his face must be as flaming as Rose's hair, Hugo wasted no time in escaping Greenhouse One, accompanied by laughter and catcalls. So much for gallantry.

ooOoo


 Lucia managed to squeeze in between Mike and Ruth.

"Later," she whispered when Ruth opened her mouth to ask where she'd been. She wasn't about to test Professor Longbottom's patience. Besides, she really wanted to hear what he was saying about magical plants.

After a few moments, however, her attention began to drift back to her encounter with the vanishing stair.

She was very relieved to be free, of course, and grateful to the Weasley boy. On the train, she'd heard her brother and his friends sniggering about the red-haired Gryffindor clan but hadn't paid much attention. Now that she'd met Hugo, she realized the terms "thick" and "bumpkin" didn't fit Hugo at all.

At least he was friendly and polite, which was more than she could say for Pucey, Nott, or Harper. Now that she was safe, she realized how silly she'd been to be afraid of them. They'd never dare jinx her, for fear she might tell Scorpius, but they must have taken a lot of pleasure from scaring her. They knew she wouldn't tell Scorpius about that, because he'd chide her for being such an easy target.

The whole situation made her furious. Slytherins!

Mike nudged her, and Lucia realized she had no idea what Professor Longbottom was saying. For the rest of the lesson, she took careful notes.

"That's all for today," Professor Longbottom announced, "except for homework."

Lucia wrote the assignment in her planning book - a present from her mother - and stowed it away in her bag. Amid the after-class hubbub, both Ruth and Mike finally got the chance to ask what they'd been dying to all along.

"We were worried about you," said Ruth as the girls left the greenhouse and began the long walk back to the castle. "Did something happen?"

"You might say that," said Lucia, and she proceeded to explain.

ooOoo

"What good does it do to come from a huge family of witches and wizards if they won't teach you anything?" Hugo grumbled, as he pointed his wand once more at the matchstick on the table and enunciated the incantation very slowly and distinctly.

The match was supposed to turn into a needle, but if anything, Hugo had to admit, it looked even blunter and less shiny than before.

"Don't worry, you'll get it," Trevor reassured his friend. He waved his wand at his own match, which promptly disappeared.

"Duck!" commanded Professor Fuller, as a sharp silver object whizzed erratically around the room. She flicked her wand at the needle, which landed back on the table in front of Trevor. He stared at the unruly object, not quite sure whether or not to be pleased with his efforts.

"Normally, I'd award five points to Hufflepuff for managing to Transfigure your matchstick, Mr. Roberts, but I'm afraid I would just have to deduct five for the - er - missile aspect. Let's call it even, shall we?"

Her lips twitched with the effort not to smile.

Professor Fuller was taller than Hugo's gran and even plumper; her long, strawberry-blonde hair tended to straggle out of a loose ponytail. Hugo had already learned that her tendency to go red in the face owed more to physical exertion than temper.

"Nice work," Hugo murmured, trying to keep the envy out of his voice. Granted, it was just their first lesson, but he'd harbored the illusion that having so many magical relatives meant he'd learn magic with very little effort.

Sighing, he tried again, and again, and again. By the end of the lesson, he thought the match looked a little thinner, and at least it had lost its head.

Only Amy Perlman, from Slytherin, managed to earn any points for either house, and she smirked triumphantly at any Hufflepuff who happened to be looking as the students began to gather their things.

"I'll expect eighteen inches of parchment on transforming similar inanimate objects by next class, and satisfactory needles from everyone. Enjoy your evening."

Hugo groaned along with the rest of his classmates, but secretly, he didn't mind the homework. One nice thing about being a Hufflepuff, he'd already noticed, was that you didn't have to pretend to hate homework and could just do it without the Gryffindor grousing. Of course, you didn't have to take it quite as far as Robbie Macmillan did. You'd think he was revising for O.W.L.s already.

"Back to the common room?" Trevor asked as the two boys headed down the stairs.

"Yeah," said Hugo. "There's some time before dinner; maybe I'll get a start on the reading before trying that spell again."

Trevor's grin was rueful. "I hear you. I could have put somebody's eye out. I kind of wish Mum and Dad had taught me a bit of magic before I got here. I tried to watch when they did spells, but they never showed me how to do them, and they didn't talk much about magic, either. It's more fun visiting my granny back in Jamaica. Everybody in the village comes to her for cures and love potions and such."

"Cool. My gran uses spells mostly for housework and cooking, I think. She's an amazing cook, though. I always begged Mum to teach me something, anything, but she wouldn't - said that if she did teach me a spell, I might be tempted to use it.

"My dad would have, except that he didn't want to tick off Mum, and when my Uncle George started to show me some stuff, Mum caught him and threatened to hex him into - how did she put it - an insensate mass of quivering jelly."

"Ooh," said Trevor with a touch of admiration, "your mum sounds tough."

Hugo grimaced. "She can be, but she was probably right. Knowing Uncle George, he probably would have taught me just enough so I could blow myself up."

By then, the two boys had reached the entrance to their common room. Hugo walked up to the still life and uttered the password: "Coconuts."

Nothing happened.

"It looks like the password's changed," said Trevor.

"Brilliantly deduced, Mr. Roberts. Any idea what the new one might be? I somehow missed the announcement."

Trevor shook his head. "No, and so did I. Bagley probably said, but she says so many things, one tends to tune her out. I suppose we'll just have to wait for someone who listened to come along."

The corridor remained empty, however, and random guessing was going to get them nowhere. For want of anything better to do, Hugo stared at the by-now-familiar painting, as though it might yield up a clue .

Stepping closer, he examined it with care. Something about it seemed off, though he couldn't put his finger on what it might be.

"If you're thinking it's going to tell us the password, I kind of doubt it," said Trevor, sitting down with his back against the wall.

"Yeah, I know, but - "

Hugo peered at the painting again, wishing the light was better.

"Trev," he said after a few moments. "Come here and look. I think something's missing that was here before."

Trevor scrambled up and came over to squint at the still life, then stepped back with a shrug.

"Dunno," he said finally. "I never looked that closely at it before. There's a lot of fine-looking produce in there, though."

He sat back down again, apparently content to wait, but Hugo wasn't ready to give up.

Something struck him: the painting was full of fruits and vegetables, and a coconut was a fruit, wasn't it? And now . . .

"Hey, Trev, it's the coconut! It's not in the painting now."

"Really?" Trevor got up again to stand beside Hugo.

"I'm pretty sure it was there before. There's no empty space, though. The painting's just rearranged itself somehow."

"Great," Trevor groaned. "So the password's in the painting? There's an awful lot of stuff in there, so we'd better get busy. Apple!"

Nothing happened.

While Trevor randomly named objects in the picture, Hugo searched it from one end to the other, trying to identify the one new element he was sure would be there.

"Hazelnuts, plum, cabbage . . . "

Then Hugo spotted it, half-hidden behind a bunch of luscious-looking purple grapes. The only problem was, he couldn't have named it if somebody held a wand to his throat.

Hugo pointed at the thing, which was a sort of greenish-black oval with a rough-looking skin.

Hugo pointed at it. "I don't suppose you know what that is, do you?"

Trevor scrutinized the odd-looking item, then a grin spread over his face. "So happens I do. It's called an avocado, or sometimes an alligator pear - on account of the skin, see?"

"Really? Have you ever eaten one?"

Trevor nodded. "I have. My mum makes avocado soup sometimes. It's an island thing, and it's quite tasty."

"Well, then, after you." Hugo bowed and made a sweeping gesture toward the painting.

You learn something new every day here, he thought as Trevor pronounced te password and the painting disappeared. He wasn't sure how he felt about telling his new best friend that he'd spent part of the afternoon rescuing a girl from a vanishing stair, but then again, it did make a pretty good story. He might leave out the part about the greenhouse, though.

"