The Eagle and the Badger

Chapter Seventeen: Reaching Out

Lucia consulted her watch for the twentieth time in half an hour. It wasn't like Hugo to be late. Had he, or she, somehow got the time or place wrong?

She tried to distract herself by reading from the copy of Hogwarts: A History her mother had given her for Christmas. It was the latest edition, but she was disappointed not to find any reference to Professor Vector's departure from Hogwarts or his subsequent fate.

That only made her more anxious to talk to Hugo. She was dying to know what he'd found out from Aunt Andromeda. If nothing else,what her aunt told him might help in her quest to get better acquainted with Claudia.

Besides, days had gone by since the end of the holiday, and she still hadn't had the chance to give Hugo his Christmas present.

She would have paced the classroom had there not been so many desks in the way. For a few minutes, she amused herself by practicing her Locomotor spell to move them about.

After another fifteen minutes, Lucia gave up and left, his gift still in her pocket. When she saw Hugo again, she was going to tease him about his poor memory.

ooOoo

Hugo woke up in darkness so profound it seemed to press down on him, making it hard to breathe. After a moment, he became aware that his nose was throbbing painfully, and when he put tentative fingers up to it, they came away coated with something sticky.

A nosebleed was no big deal; what shook Hugo a bit was that his nose wasn't quite where he expected it to be.

Broken. The back of Hugo's head pulsated with pain as well, and exploring fingers encountered an egg-sized lump. What the hell happened to me? he wondered groggily. Feeling muzzy and disoriented, he struggled to sit up. He needed to think, to remember . . .

Oh. The first image that swam into Hugo's mind was the sight of Jack Sutphen's smirk as he stood back to let Hugo enter Dungeon Nineteen. Merlin, what a fool he was! He should have known that something was up, but no, he'd let himself be blinded by the hope of learning something that might help him solve the Muggle-baiting mystery. Sutphen had led him straight into an ambush.

The worst part of it was that Hugo couldn't identify his attacker. He - Hugo thought the voice was a boy's - had worn plain school robes, but his face was covered in glittering silvery scales and his slicked-back hair was a startling shade of green, partly concealed by a hood. In the dim dungeon, Hugo couldn't have made out the color of his eyes, even if he'd had the presence of mind to try.

More memories came crowding back.

"Well done, Sutphen!" the boy had crowed as Jack slipped out of the dungeon.

Hugo's first thought was to go for his wand, but before his hand even reached his pocket, the Slytherin expelled it without even raising his voice, "Weasley, Weasley," the boy drawled. "Haven't you learned that curiosity killed the cat?" Hugo struggled unsuccessfully to place the voice.

The boy had his wand trained on Hugo, who took a calming breath as he quickly reviewed the distraction techniques he'd just learned in Defense class. Hoping he wouldn't need them, Hugo straightened himself a bit as he said, "No need for that. I was only trying to - er - do my bit to improve interhouse relations."

To his horror, he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment at the lameness of his excuse.

The Slytherin threw his head back and laughed, his wand not wavering by so much as a millimeter. The laughter stopped abruptly and Hugo felt, rather than saw, eyes boring into him.

"Forget interhouse relations," the scale-faced boy said in calm, even tones that carried an unmistakeable note of menace. "Stay out of Slytherin business."

There was no mistaking the implied "or else".

Hugo thought quickly. "Er, all right," he agreed. "If you'll give me back my wand, then, I'll be leaving . . ."

The next-to-last thing Hugo heard was another peal of laughter; the last was the single word, "Stupefy!"

The absolute blackness gave no clue to Hugo's surroundings, though he assumed he was still in Dungeon Nineteen. Despite the pain in his head, he rolled cautiously onto his hands and knees, stopping momentarily to fight a wave of nausea. When it passed he managed to stand, though his legs wobbled a bit. As far as he could tell, his limbs were intact, though he suspected he'd find plenty of bruises when he could bloody see.

Taking cautious steps, he began moving forward, hands held out to keep him from plowing nose-first into a wall. After what seemed an eternity, his fingers encountered a more-or-less flat surface: the dungeon wall. Slowly, because he still felt a bit unsteady on his feet, he following the wall, until, with a sigh of relief, he reached the door. He thought of searching for his wand, but in the crushing dark, he had no hope of finding it. The git who'd hexed him probably still had it, anyway, and was getting a good laugh out of showing it off to his mates.

He felt his eyelids begin to prickle and shook his head impatiently, only to groan as a fresh wave of pain hit him. So focused had he been on getting to the door that he'd never once considered it might be locked. And locked it was, as he discovered when he tried the knob.

Simply getting that far had cost him, and his legs began to shake, forcing him to sit down with his back pressed against the wall.

For the first time, he noticed how cold and dank it was in the dungeon. Without a cloak, he soon began to shiver and burrowed inside his robes in an attempt to conserve warmth. The pain in his head made it impossible to think of a way to escape, and before long he lay down, pillowing his head on his arms the best he could, and closed his eyes.

ooOoo

Lucia spent a restless night drifting in and out of sleep. She hadn't been troubled with nightmares since recovering from her experience in the enchanted room. This morning, however, she woke up feeling anxious and disoriented after a particularly vivid dream of being trapped somewhere, pounding on the door to get out while a high, cold voice taunted her with peels of mirthless laughter . . .

Echoes of that laughter still in her head, she threw back the curtains of her bed. Cold dawn light was just beginning to creep into the dormitory. Shivering, she groped for her dressing gown and thrust her feet into her slippers. As it was Saturday, there was no need to get up so early, but she knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep.

She took her time showering and washing her hair, a vague sense of unease lingering like an early morning fog. Then she remembered waiting for Hugo in the empty classroom. Really, she chided herself, there was no reason to worry. He'd simply forgotten, or he had too much homework . . .

On Friday night?

Lucia toweled her hair dry, then got quickly into her clothes, taking care not to wake her dorm mates. A cup of hot tea would warm her up and clear her head, she thought. She took a book with her, in case there were no other early risers to talk to. Indeed, it was another half hour before the Great Hall began to fill. Amanda was among the first to arrive, taking a seat across from Lucia, her face alight with excitement.

"Have you heard?" she asked, reaching for the pumpkin juice. "Hugo Weasley's gone missing."

Lucia nearly dropped her teacup. "He's what?"

"Missing," Amanda repeated. "As in, he hasn't been seen since dinner last night. Foote and Bagley have been looking for him, and Bagley told Pam - "

Of course, the Ravenclaw prefect would know and would somehow have managed to convey the news to her younger sister. Not for the first time, Lucia wondered if the two sisters possessed some secret magical means of communicating.

Lucia toyed with a scone, her mind in a whirl and her stomach clenched. What could have happened to Hugo? He couldn't have got lost on the way to their usual meeting place - unless -

The arrival of Mike and Ruth interrupted her train of thought, and Amanda had to relate her news all over again.

"Where could he have gone?" Ruth asked, her brow furrowed with worry. "This castle is so . . . "

Amanda shook her head as she heaped scrambled eggs onto her plate. "Nobody seems to know. Apparently, he left the Hall without telling anyone. There is one thing, though. Some of the Hufflepuff first years saw him go off with Jack Sutphen."

Lucia's heart skipped a beat. Hugo had said he wanted to get to know a Slytherin; suppose he'd met with Jack, asked a few too many questions, and -

"What did Jack say?" Lucia asked. "Surely, they've questioned him."

Amanda frowned. "I don't know about that. Pam was in a hurry to join the other prefects in the search. She couldn't even come to breakfast. I'm supposed to take her some muffins."

Throughout this conversation, Mike hadn't said a word, and Lucia was surprised at the grim, set expression on her friend's face.

"Are you worried?" Lucia asked gently. "I'm sure they'll find Hugo soon, and he'll be fine." She wished she could sound more confident.

Mike turned cloudy sea-green eyes on Lucia. "Of course he'll be fine, if that stupid room hasn't opened up again, or he's not lying at the bottom of a staircase with a broken head . . . "

It didn't take a genius to see that Hugo's disappearance had reawakened a bad memory. Under the circumstances - and given her own troubled night - Lucia understood the feeling all too well.

She pushed away her own nearly untouched plate. "Come on," she urged. "Let's help find him."

ooOoo

"You must be sick of visiting the hospital wing by now," Hugo said with an attempt at a grin. The Skele-Gro that Madam Pomfrey had given him to heal his nose (after she'd spelled it into place, a process he hoped never to have repeated), was magnifying the pain considerably.

"I could do without it," Lucia admitted, with a weak smile of her own. "I'm sorry you had to spend the night in that horrid dungeon."

She shuddered, imagining what it must have been like. "What happened, exactly? There are all sorts of rumors - you can imagine."

Hugo's grin was wider this time. "Yeah, I can."

He proceeded to tell her about his misadventure, beginning with Jack Sutphen's all-too-tempting invitation and ending with being awakened by Professor Kindle banging on the door to Dungeon Nineteen. As he described his assailant (another crime drama word), Hugo noticed the shadow that fell across Lucia's face.

"You're sure you didn't recognize the person who hexed you?" she asked, her voice tinged with anxiety.

Hugo shook his head, a move he instantly regretted. "No. Like I said, he looked more like a snake than a human being."

That was true, though once his head had cleared, Hugo thought he remembered catching a glimpse of other figures lurking in the deep shadows of the dungeon. He couldn't help being reminded of Scorpius Malfoy and his three constant companions . . . But of course, it could have been anyone.

"I was a fool to trust Sutphen," Hugo admitted with a grimace.

Lucia privately agreed that Hugo should have been more careful, but she opted for reassurance.

"It wasn't a bad idea," she said. "We have to try things, or we'll never get anywhere. Oh - I almost forgot. I brought your Christmas present."

She reached into her pocket and drew out a long, slim package wrapped in bright yellow paper. Hugo took it with a look of chagrin.

"I don't have yours here," he said. "It's back in the dormitory - "

Lucia shook her head. "Don't worry about that. Go ahead and open it."

Careful not to rip the paper, Hugo unwrapped the gift, which turned out to be a quill with a glossy black plume.

"It's not just any quill," Lucia explained, seeing that Hugo looked a bit puzzled. "It's a Dictaquill, and self-inking as well."

"Great!" Hugo exclaimed, stroking the plume admiringly. "This'll save a lot of work. Thanks a lot."

There was a commotion outside the room and they heard Madam Pomfrey's uncharacteristically loud voice. "Scat! Animals aren't allowed in here, familiars included."

Lucia hurried to the door, where Calypso was trying to insinuate herself past the substantial form of the Hogwarts matron, who had her wand trained on the cat.

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey," Lucia apologized, scooping Calypso into her arms. "I think she just wants to see if Hugo is all right. She helped in the search, you know."

Still holding her familiar, she turned so that Calypso could see Hugo, who waved at her from his bed. "I'm fine, Callie," he assured the animal, "and thanks for showing Professor Kindle the right door."

He felt ridiculous talking to a cat, but who knew how much a familiar could understand?

Lucia set Calypso down outside the door, and the white cat trotted off, tail held high.

Madam Pomfrey watched her go with narrowed eyes, then turned back.

"Visiting hours are over, Miss Malfoy," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "Mr. Weasley needs his rest. He will be released in the morning."

Lucia bade Hugo goodbye and returned to her common room, feeling decidedly frustrated. There'd been no time to ask Hugo about his talk with Aunt Andromeda or to tell him about her own futile attempt to talk to Claudia's friend Stephen.

As she pretended to read her Charms textbook, she tried to think through the implications of these failed efforts and to come up with some new ideas, but her mind kept returning to Hugo's description of the person - the Slytherin - who'd hexed him.

Why would he go to all the bother of getting Jack to lure Hugo into a trap? What was the connection between the two boys? Why engage with Hugo at all? That just made the Slytherins look guilty. And if they thought stunning Hugo was going to keep him from pursuing the mystery, he obviously didn't know the Hufflepuff at all.

Then something else struck her. Suppose the hexer's motive had nothing to do with the notes. Suppose it was personal.

"You spend too much time with Weasley." However Scorpius put it, this refrain managed to find its way into his infrequent talks with his sister. A mental image of her brother with glittering scales covering his face leapt into her mind, and it took some effort for her to force it out.

ooOoo

"So," said Lucia slowly, "Professor Vector came from a Muggle family. And" - she swallowed, aware of an uncomfortable lump in her throat - "my grandfather tortured him because of it. I'm glad you told me, but . . . "

In the dim torchlight of the classroom, Lucia looked down at her hands, clasped together in her lap. It was horrid, hearing that her grandfather had picked on someone because he was weaker and didn't come from the right sort of family. Then again, given his later history, it wasn't that surprising.

"Luce." Hugo's soft voice broke into her painful thoughts. "Don't let this get to you, all right? Aunt Andy made it pretty clear that Vector could be a real prat, and they hexed each other; it wasn't all one way."

Lucia rubbed her forehead. "I suppose you're right. This could explain why Claudia's been so unfriendly, though. Her father must have told her the story and it's made her hate Malfoys. It might not be fair, but I can understand it."

Hugo thought about this. "Maybe, but remember, she doesn't give any of your housemates the time of day, does she? It's possible she doesn't know a thing about her father's old feud and is just a loner who doesn't get along with people. In fact, I'd bet on that."

Though Hugo was trying to make Lucia feel better, the theory also fit with his impression of the Vector girl. He reckoned it was time to steer the conversation in a more cheerful direction, however, so he reached into his schoolbag and removed a large rectangular package rather messily wrapped in midnight-blue paper.

"Sorry it's taken so long to give this to you," he said, coloring a little.

From the size and shape, Lucia guessed it was a book, and indeed that's what it turned out to be: a handsomely bound copy of Witches Who Changed the World. Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw stood side by side on the cover, the latter with an enigmatic smile on her face.

Lucia couldn't resist a peek inside, where more witches in full color waved wands, rode broomsticks, or stirred cauldrons.

"This is amazing, Hugo!" Lucia exclaimed. "Thank you so much!"

Hugo's color deepened. "It was my mum's idea, actually. She's in the book, but that's not why she suggested it. She's not like that."

"I'm sure she isn't," Lucia said. "Please tell her I can't wait to read this."

Diversion over, the two first years returned to the problem at hand.

Should they even continue to pursue the mystery, now that the headmistress and professors were involved, especially as poking around could be dangerous? Lucia put the question forward, though she was pretty sure what Hugo would say.

The answer came immediately. "I think we should," Hugo said. "Our teachers can't be everywhere at once. We might see or hear something important, the clue to everything. Besides, it's mostly our own friends who're being threatened, right."

Lucia smiled. "I agree. So, where do we go from here?"

"Well," said Hugo slowly, "I've been thinking . . . It's been great, the two of us trying to work things out, but why is it just the two of us? I mean, I know we decided to keep a low profile, but we might get further with some help."

To his relief, Lucia agreed at once. "I think you're right. I'm sure Ruth and Mike and Amanda would be willing to join in. I don't know the boys all that well, but perhaps it's time to change that."

Though Hugo didn't know the Ravenclaw boys all that well, either, he didn't think it could hurt to try to see where they stood. Besides, the more people who joined in the hunt, the less likely it was for any one of them to become a target. Ignoring the shakiness of his logic, he went on.

"I could talk to Lily again. You know Gryffindors: Give them a cause, and they'll be all over it."

The idea of getting a bunch of Gryffindors involved took Lucia aback. She'd heard Scorpius refer to them as "loose cannons," and she couldn't help wondering if he had a point.

"We do have to be a bit careful," she told Hugo with a little frown of concern. "This whole thing could get out of hand . . . "

Hugo snorted. "Isn't it already out of hand?"

It was hard to argue with that. After the two of them parted, it occurred to her that she hadn't told Hugo about her attempt to find out the truth about her father's disappearance. That was only partly because there was nothing to tell. More than anything, she hated the thought of being pitied.

Besides, the case of Draco Malfoy, as she'd begun to think of it, had nothing to do with the mysterious Muggle-baiter. That didn't mean she wasn't going to pursue it, when she could find the time.

ooOoo

It took Hugo a moment to figure out what was off about the Hufflepuff common room as he entered: It was far too quiet.

Homework might be one reason, as the teachers seemed determined to pile on as much as possible.

Of the first years, only Trevor, Robbie, and Sandy were in their usual places, and they all had their noses buried in textbooks. No one realized he was there until he plopped into an armchair. Trevor looked up, unsmiling.

"Going off alone again, were you?" he asked, his voice tight. "Thought you'd have learned your lesson."

Trevor was still furious with Hugo for following Jack Sutphen without backup. Hadn't they all promised to stick together?

Hugo had tried to explain that the Slytherin hadn't given him time to think, much less collect a posse or arm himself with Dungbombs or Instant Darkness Powder or anything at all. In fact, he counted himself lucky that he'd got his wand back, his assailant having simply tossed it into a corner of the dungeon.

Still, he was getting sick of having to defend himself. "I said I was sorry, all right?" he growled. "I've admitted to being stupid. Now, could we drop it, please?"

He made an effort to moderate his tone. "Since the three of you are here, there's something I'd like to talk to you about."

Sandy gave him a curious look as she closed her Defense textbook. "What is it, Hugo? Has something else happened?"

Hearing the anxiety in her voice, Hugo was quick to reassure her. "No, but I've been thinking . . . Where's everyone else, by the way?"

"Library," said Trevor shortly. "And they went together."

With a sigh, Hugo nodded. "All right. I'll talk to them later."

Trevor was staring at him, arms crossed, and in the silence, Hugo began to feel self-conscious. Still, he'd agreed with Lucia they needed to include their housemates in their plans, and here was an opportunity. He took a deep breath and began.

"Erm - I just - I know we've agreed to stick together, and we've been trying. But suppose we did more - suppose we worked together - to catch the idiot who's harassing our friends? I mean, that's what I was doing when I tried to get to know Sutphen."

Trevor's mouth tightened, but Hugo didn't let that stop him. "All right, I went about it the wrong way. If we put our heads together, though, we might be able to figure out something better . . ."

He trailed off, uncomfortably aware of the continued silence.

Trevor was the first to speak, though what he said wasn't exactly what Hugo wanted to hear.

"So," he said, "it's not enough to put yourself in danger. You want all of us to do the same, and for what? I've said it before, not that you were listening: A bunch of first years aren't going to solve anything. Why don't you just stay out of it, and leave us alone while you're at it?"

His friend's words hit Hugo like Bludgers. Trevor had a right to be angry with him, but it wasn't like him to lash out like that, or let his feelings keep him from doing to right thing.

Robbie was nodding, a frown creasing his forehead. "Trevor's right, Hugo. Aside from keeping watch over Gabe and Sukie, it's not our job to catch the culprit. We should leave it to the headmistress and the teachers."

For once, Sandy didn't echo her cousin. She gave Hugo an encouraging smile as she said, "I hope Robbie's right, but I think we should do more to protect our friends. How can we help?"

Before Hugo could open his mouth, Trevor jumped in. "I hope you're not going to tell us we should try to infiltrate Slytherin and get our heads bashed in for our trouble."

This was a wild exaggeration of what had actually happened in Dungeon Nineteen, but Hugo judged this an inopportune time to point that out. Stifling a rising temper, he forced himself to stay calm.

"They can't all be prats. It's still possible one of them has heard or seen something and doesn't like it. We'd definitely have to be more subtle about getting them to open up, though."

He hoped a rueful grin in Trevor's direction might soften his friend's attitude. Trevor continued to stare, however, his mouth thin with disapproval.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hugo saw the rest of the first years coming through the entrance.

"Look," he said hastily before they arrived and he had to start all over again, "I'm not saying it's the only way or even the best. If anyone has a better idea, let's talk about it."

By the time greetings had been exchanged, Robbie was deep into his Potions book once more. Trevor rose with a grunt and stalked off toward the dormitory without saying goodnight. As Hugo watched him go, he felt a knot in his chest every bit as painful as the now-healing lump on his head. Giving up his crusade for the moment, he took out his Herbology book and consoled himself with "Ten Simple Steps for Growing Perfect Pimpernels."

ooOoo

A steady snowfall muffled all sound as Lucia walked from the greenhouse back to the castle. She'd volunteered to sweep up after class, hoping for a chance to make casual conversation with Claudia, who was dithering over some bloodroot cuttings.

It was no use, however. When Lucia tried to start a discussion of the day's lesson, Claudia merely watched Lucia for a few moments with her usual impassiveness, then said, "You should clean under the pots as well as around them," and went back to her cuttings. Lucia gave up and left without bidding the other girl goodbye.

The drifts were thigh-deep, and Lucia vowed for the fiftieth time to learn the spell for clearing a path. She knew one existed, because she'd seen some of the older students use it.

As she passed the lake, a glint caught her eye, and after a moment she was able to make out something undulating in the water. She stared for a moment, then realized it must be one of the Giant Squid's tentacles. She could have sworn the Squid was waving at her, and she waved back, feeling oddly cheered. Poor thing, she thought, the lake must be awfully cold.

In the common room, she headed straight for the fire to warm herself, then turned to survey the first years. Ruth and Amanda were studying together, while four of the the first year boys were sitting at the square table they occupied when playing Merlin's Cave.

She'd never really thought about it, but now it did strike her as odd that there wasn't more mingling among the Ravenclaw boys and girls in her year. Amanda and Mike occasionally played games with the boys, but she and Ruth rarely did. They might as well have been in different houses.

As she moved away from the fire, she saw that Claudia had arrived and was heading toward Stephen Mullen, who was sitting in his usual chair with a very large book open in his lap. Arithmancy sounded very dry to Lucia, but then, even her tutor had to agree that maths wasn't her best subject.

Just then Stephen glanced up and their eyes met for a second before he looked down again. His expression was as cold as the lake. Despite the fire, she shivered a bit as she hastened to join her friends.

Ruth looked up from her book and smiled as Lucia approached.

"Where have you been?" she asked. "I didn't know you liked Herbology that much."

"I don't. I actually thought I might try to talk to Claudia, but she wasn't interested. Where's Mike? I didn't see her on the way back."

Amanda snorted and shook her head. "She took David Pinkerton to the library."

Lucia stared at her. "What do you mean, she took him? I'd have thought he knew the way by now."

True, the wispy-looking boy didn't seem to be outgrowing his timidity, as Ruth had done with surprising rapidity. His eyes were always red-rimmed ("Allergies," he insisted). Lucia had no idea what allergies might be, and she suspected David of crying sometimes. Perhaps he was homesick.

"Mike's sort of adopted him, or vice versa," Amanda went on. Hadn't you noticed?"

The question took Lucia aback, and she tried to think. She and Mike sat together in classes, studied together, played chess or poker . . . . They were together all the time, weren't they?

The answer to that was obvious. Lucia simply hadn't given any thought to the times when Mike wasn't around. Had she been so preoccupied with the stalker, with meeting Hugo and making plans, that she was guilty of ignoring her best friend? She made a vow to do bette and let Amanda and Ruth get back to their books.

Feeling decidedly unsettled, she wandered to the window to gaze out at the distant mountains, now nearly obscured by falling snow. After a few minutes, she turned away from the window and glanced over to where the first year boys were sitting.

It was ridiculous that she knew so little about them. Amanda could probably tell her all sorts of things, but why depend on Amanda, when the boys were right there? She felt a little shy about interrupting their game, but she forced herself to walk over and stand at Andy Banion's shoulder, peering at the cards he was holding.

She had no idea how to play Merlin's Cave and wasn't at all sure she wanted to learn, but she smiled brightly when Andy finally noticed her hovering and looked up.

"Erm - how's the game going?" Lucia asked lamely. She didn't know enough about it to think of a more intelligent question.

"Not bad," Andy said. "You're welcome to join us, but you'll have to start as a Level One pixie."

The others chortled. "Yeah," Mickey Robb said, "pixies are the weakest beings; a troll would finish you off before you even got started." His black eyes snapped with glee. "But hey, we all had to start the same way, didn't we? Have a seat."

To Lucia's surprise,Andy got up at once and dragged a chair over, placing it between him and Ken Currey, who was studying his cards with a frown and didn't bother to look up.

Being tutored in a complicated game wasn't quite what Lucia had had in mind; all the same she listened carefully as Mickey dealt her in and began to explain the rules, interrupted frequently by the others, who soon forgot about her as the tutorial devolved into heated argument over which being was harder to fight, a Dementor or an Inferus.

Andy didn't enter in, and Lucia seized the opportunity to say, quietly, "I don't suppose you know what's worrying David, do you?"

Andy's response was unexpected. He put down his cards and pushed his chair back.

"I'm taking a break," he announced, and the other three grunted in response, having forgotten about Lucia. "C'mon."

He led Lucia to a nearby sofa and sat down.

"I'm glad you asked," he said without preamble, his brown eyes clouded. "I don't know if you know this, but David's been terrified ever since that Hufflepuff girl was threatened."

Light dawned. "His parents are Muggles?" she asked.

Andy nodded. "He's not a bad sort, but he was having a hard time adjusting to Hogwarts even before that, and now . . . . At least I have one magical parent, so I knew school life would have its moments."

He said this with a wry grin. Sitting there, Lucia noticed that the boy had grown a good inch taller since September and seemed fitter than he had been that first night, when the stairs to Ravenclaw tower nearly did him in.

"David hasn't been threatened himself, has he?" Lucia asked, clenching her hands anxiously.

Andy shook his head. "No, but he's convinced he's going to be next, even though there are plenty of other Muggle-born and half-blood students in Ravenclaw. Other houses, too. Hey, for all I know, I could be next."

He didn't sound overly worried.

A thought occurred to Lucia. "Do you know who the other Muggle-borns in our house are?"

Andy shrugged. "Besides David and Mike? Can't say I do, though I'm pretty sure about Jain. He's been heard to complain about how hard he had to fight his parents to be able to come here. They had him down for some posh school or other, and out of the blue he was begging to go someplace they'd never heard of. Never mind that their precious son turned out to be a wizard."

Lucia chuckled along with Andy, but her mind was elsewhere. Just how did the Muggle-baiter know the blood status of his victims, especially those not in his own house? She posed the question to Andy, who shrugged.

"No idea, but hey, we're Ravenclaws, aren't we? We should be able to figure it out."

She couldn't help noticing he'd said "we," and found the little word curiously heartening.