Thirteen Years Later: Shall We Begin? (2/2)
Title: Thirteen Years Later: Shall We Begin? (2/2)
Author: kanedax
Spoilers: Deathly Hallows & Previous Chapters
Rating: R for language
Characters: Victoire, Teddy, Neville, Tiberius Ogden, Hagrid, Sinestra, numerous OCs
Summary: Victoire gets Sorted
Word count: 5,158 words
Notes: So many new faces, I had a glut of new names to come up with in this chapter. Names may match IRL friends of mine, but their descriptions and personalities are purely fictional. I own these characters. The rest belong to JK Rowling.
Shall We Begin? (1/2) / Previous Chapters / Jareth
“Now, who can tell me what this is?”
“Oh! Oh!”
“Mr. Smith?”
“That’s belladonna, sir,” said Nathaniel Smith as he lowered his hand.
Neville Longbottom took a quick glance at the pot he was holding up to the class before nodding. “Good job. Five points.”
“My Mum has some in our garden.”
“Alright then,” said Neville, giving the boy a double take. “You don’t happen to be related to Zacharias Smith?”
“He’s my uncle,” said Nathaniel, slightly uncomfortable. “But I don’t like him very much.”
“Well, that makes two of us,” said Neville with a smirk. “And can anyone tell me why belladonna is important?”
The greenhouse echoed with the silence of the first-years.
“Hmm,” said Neville. “Have you had your class with Professor Alcahest yet?”
“We don’t start Potions till tomorrow, sir,” said Sarah, who, Victoire was glad to see, had dried off from her encounter with Theresa earlier in the day.
“Well, then, maybe you won’t-“
“Oh, Potions!” Sarah interrupted loudly, her hand thrown into the air. “Those are in our potions kits!”
“Very good, Miss Harvey,” said Neville. “Yes, indeed, belladonna is a common ingredient in many potions. Along with puffapod seeds, scurvy-grass, lovage, and about a half dozen other plants, belladonna is also in the standard potions kits required for all students. You buy them at the beginning of your first year, as you all have done, but you also need to refill them over time, which can come to be a very expensive proposition after seven years.
“So many of your lessons in your first year,” he continued, “will involve learning how to plant, cultivate, and harvest these plants. You will also learn the proper method of preparing them for future use in your potion-making. Every one of you will be given their own box in greenhouse number four, set aside specifically for this project. Do well, and you won’t have to buy any more potions ingredients for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts.
“At least,” Neville said with a shrug, “not any potion ingredients that don’t involve tearing the spines out of lionfish or grinding up newts’ eyeballs. That’s not in my job description.”
Half of the class, which consisted of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors, laughed at Neville’s comment, while the other half, Victoire among them, turned slightly green at the prospect of what awaited them in Potions tomorrow.
“Today we start easy,” said Neville. “Please open your textbooks to page ten. The belladonna seeds should be in the bowl beside your pot. Follow the instructions with your partner, and please don’t hesitate to ask me any questions. I’ll walk around to see how everyone’s doing.”
“Huh,” Christine, Victoire’s partner, said with a shrug. “This isn’t that bad.”
“No kidding,” said Victoire as she scooped dirt into her empty pot. “My Mum taught me how to plant herbs in the window box. This class should be a breeze.”
“That’s what you think,” one of the Hufflepuff boys whispered from across the table. “I heard one of the second-years got taken to the hospital wing already.”
“No way,” muttered Aaron Mills with a snort as he and Theresa looked at his book. “Probably just some older kid pulling your chain.”
“No, I’m serious,” the boy said. “Got hauled up, completely unconscious.”
“Stop trying to scare us,” whispered Chelsea Lemming, accidentally dumping a handful of dirt on Sam Welt’s textbook. “It’s not working. There’s no way that would have happened.”
“Actually,” said Professor Longbottom, approaching the small group “It did happen.”
“What happened to him?” asked the Hufflepuff boy.
“What’s your name again?” Neville asked.
“Patrick, sir,” the Hufflepuff replied. “Patrick Gains.”
“Well, Patrick,” Neville continued, patting a friendly, but extremely dirty, hand on Gains’s shoulder. “Mandrakes happened.”
“What are those?” asked Victoire.
“You’ll learn about them next year,” said Neville. “But take my advice in advance: when I ask to put on your earmuffs, you put on your earmuffs.”
“Sir?”
Neville turned to the other end of the room, where Nathaniel Smith and Sarah Harvey were stationed. “Yes, Mr. Smith? You have a question about the assignment?”
“Actually, no, sir,” said Nathaniel. “I was just wondering what that thing was?”
Nate pointed to the far end of the greenhouse, where a huge corn-cob-like plant was sticking out of an enormous pot.
“Oh, that?” said Neville, smiling with pride. “That’s Titan Arum.”
“What’s a Titan Arum?”
“It’s my baby.”
“My name is Professor Longbottom,” the woman said, scribbling the name across the blackboard, and then following it below with a series of unintelligible symbols. “When you’re in the halls, in the Great Hall, on the grounds, I would ask that you refer to me by that name, and that name alone. Quite a few of the professors in this school are sticklers for tradition, and you might find yourself dropped some points if they overhear you calling me by anything else.”
Teddy chuckled. He had met this professor before, and he knew that, in her jeans and purple t-shirt, she was anything but traditional.
“But I am also aware,” she continued, “that you have had my husband as a professor for the last two years, and will have him for at least three more. Maybe longer if you do well on his O.W.L.s. Having two Professor Longbottoms might screw you up a bit. So when you’re in this classroom, you can call me Professor Longbottom, Professor Clavis, Uriela, Uri, whatever. Just don’t call me baby, or you’ll find yourself in a shallow ditch somewhere between here and King’s Cross.”
The class of about two dozen students laughed, Teddy among them. Yup, he thought, Neville definitely got himself one with this woman…
“I’m not going to lie to you,” Uriela continued, pushing herself up onto her desk, her legs dangling from the front. “This is a difficult class that you’ve gotten yourselves into. I know some of you signed up for my class simply because your friends already signed up, and you would rather hang out with them than sit in Professor Skryer’s Divination or Professor Vector’s Arithmancy. You’re in for a long, hard, slog, and you’d do well to bring a kettle of strong tea with you, because I really do not approve of people falling asleep in my classroom.”
Teddy heard a few students mumble to each other. And he knew that they were going to be in for a long year.
“Those of you who are interested in Ancient Runes,” she continued as though not hearing those behind Teddy, “Are in for a worse fate. There will be nights when you’re going to feel like your head is near explosion. Nights when your eyelids will be drooping because you need to get that one last sentence translated before bed. You might even find yourselves with a few flaming books if you mutter an ancient incantation that you don’t even recognize. I get it. It happened to me, too. Happened to everyone in my field.
“But I ask you to push through it. Battle through the fatigue, through the migraines, through the feeling that you just can’t cram any more information into that big brain of yours. Because when you do, when it clicks, a whole new world opens up for you.”
When she said this last bit, Teddy recognized the look of love on his professor’s face.
“The world looks different to you when you understand Ancient Runes,” she continued with a smile. “Because it is everything. The Romantic Languages, French, Italian, Spanish, are all based in Latin. English, German, and the Scandinavian languages are Germanic. The Asian languages share the same root. So do those in Africa and the Americas.
“All of these languages are based in the Runic. There are many Runic scholars who can comprehend and speak every language on the planet, from Russian and Japanese down to Tiwi, an Aboriginal language spoken on one small island north of Australia, simply because they know and understand Ancient Runes.
“If you understand Runic,” she said, standing up and pacing in front of the class, “You understand so much more. Every class that you have taken at Hogwarts, every class you may be taking this year, are connected to Ancient Runes. The potions instructions are translated from the Runic. The tarot cards in Divination have Ancient Runes woven into their images. The Runic alphabet contains Arithmantic formulae that would leave you gasping for air if you knew what they were capable of. Herbology, Charms, History of Magic, Transfiguration, the Dark Arts and the Light… all thanks to the teachings of our ancestors, passed down through the centuries, the millennia, in Ancient Runes.”
Uriela smiled contentedly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“So,” she said, “are we ready to begin?”
“Are we ready to begin?”
As Madam Rolanda Hooch walked between the two rows of students, Gryffindor and Slytherin, Victoire Weasley looked down uncomfortably at the grass that covered the Quidditch pitch. Her borrowed broomstick sat still, but to her it looked like a viper ready to strike.
Oh, God, I’m not ready for this, Victoire thought. I hate heights.
“Now,” Hooch said, “Stick your right hand over your broom and say ‘Up!’”
Victoire looked around at the rest of the class. Each was saying “Up,” to varying degrees of success. Some got it on their first try, their broom already clutched in their hand, while others had no response.
“It’s no fair,” Theresa moaned. “This is a crappy broom. The one I have at home doesn’t give me any problems.”
“Then perhaps you’re doing it wrong,” said Hooch. “Once you learn how to control a strange broom, one that has been enchanted to your liking should be a breeze.”
“Yeah, pay attention, Daulby,” said a snaggle-toothed Slytherin from across the way. “I got it first try. What’s wrong with you?”
“Mr. Flint, I would suggest not speaking out in such a manner,” said Madam Hooch. “I gave your father a very short leash when he misbehaved, and I will not hesitate to give the same to you.”
When Madam Hooch was giving Riley Flint a tongue lashing, Victoire noticed out of the corner of her eye that Aaron, having not succeeded in getting his broom to jump into his hand, had quickly bent down and picked it up himself. When Hooch turned around, he was holding out to his side triumphantly.
“Very good, Mr. Mills,” said Hooch.
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Miss Weasley?” she said, turning to Victoire. “Is there a problem?”
Victoire blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Are you having difficulty following my instructions?”
“Oh, no, ma’am…”
“Then why is your arm at your side?” Hooch asked. “And your mouth conspicuously closed?”
“Ma’am?”
“I asked you to do two things, Miss Weasley,” Hooch said severely. “And at this point you have attempted neither of them.”
“Oh… yeah…” Victoire said, her lip twitching nervously. “Yeah, sorry…” She looked down at the broom and her stomach dropped.
“We’re waiting for you, Miss Weasley,” Hooch said, her arms now crossed. “We can’t continue unless every broom is airborne.”
“Right…” Victoire said, swallowing hard. She held out her shaking right arm. Her head was pulled back, her eyes squinted, as if she was preparing to take a punch in the face, or expecting the broom to tear her arm off or carry her off to the Arctic Circle.
“Up?”
Victoire knew that nothing as bad as she had imagined would happen. So when the broom launched straight up and almost pulled her off the ground, it took her by fully prepared surprise.
“Is there a problem, Miss Weasley?”
“No… No, ma’am,” Victoire said, both arms over her head as she struggled to pull the broom back down to her side. “I…. I think I got it…”
“Good,” Hooch said as if this were a common occurrence. “Now, everyone mount your brooms by throwing your leg over. Like so.” She demonstrated, flipping her leg over the handle like it was a bicycle. “If you try to pull yourself up from behind, you’ll find the bristles will become damaged, and you’ll also tend to slide right back off again. Make sure your hands are in the proper positions.”
The students did as they were told. Victoire watched with admiration as Christine, Sarah, and Nathaniel sat themselves down with no issue. Theresa and Chelsea eventually got it right, as did many of the Slytherins. Aaron’s broomstick, never fully levitating to begin with, fell down uselessly to the ground as soon as he let it go.
And to Victoire’s amazement, she got on her own broomstick without any problems.
At least the getting on wasn’t any problem.
Staying on, though, became an issue when the broomstick quickly bucked backwards, tossing her ten feet into the air and landing her straight onto her back, knocking the wind out of her.
“Vic!” Christine and Sarah yelled at the same time, running over to help her to her feet.
“If you had been holding the broom properly,” Hooch said, “that would not have been an issue.”
“Lovely,” Victoire croaked with her remaining breath as the two girls put her arms around their shoulders. “God, I hate brooms…”
“Open your texts to page twenty-three,” said Professor Albert Alcahest, a pockmarked wizard with a stoop that may have toppled him completely if it weren’t for the cane holding him aloft, as he walked into the classroom.
Teddy and the other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs did as they were told.
“Today we will be concocting a simple Shrinking Potion,” Alcahest explained. “The instructions are on the page before you, as well as on the blackboard. Those ingredients not in your potion-making kit can be found in the cabinet up front.” He pointed his wand at the cabinet, which flung open.
“Please take particular note,” he continued, “of what effect the sliced caterpillar has when used in relation to the chopped daisy root. You should all be aware of the properties of caterpillar, having learned them in my class last year. Be aware that there will be a homework assignment on the reaction of these ingredients.”
Teddy and Jack exchanged a nervous glance.
“And begin!”
“What do we need?” Jack asked Teddy, leaning over to study the book.
“Well, we already have the daisy root and the shrivelfig from the greenhouse,” said Teddy. “And there’s leech juice in our kit. We’re going to need… one caterpillar and one rat spleen.”
“I’ll grab four of each,” said Jack. “Two for each of us in case we fuck up.”
“Good call,” Teddy said as Jack walked up to the front and began wrestling his way to the ingredients cupboard.
“The properties of daisy root and caterpillar,” Gavin muttered beneath his breath. “He can’t honestly think that we’d remember all of that, did he?”
“I think I might remember some of it,” said Teddy.
“That’s more than I got,” said Gavin as he started chopping his roots. “I try my best to forget everything when summer rolls around.”
“Oh, it’s not that bad,” said Jennifer. “I remember what the properties are.”
“We’re talking about Gavin here,” said Jack, returning with a handful of ingredients. “He had trouble remembering my name when the Hogwarts Express picked us up last week.”
“Don’t listen to Horatio, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” said Gavin with a smirk before his head was yanked backwards. “Ow! No hair-pulling!”
“Then don’t leave it out there for any of us to grab like a bloody church bell,” said Jack, tossing his own roots into his cauldron.
“Children, settle down,” Alcahest warned as he passed their table. “You should also take note of the effect any loose hair might have if mixed in with the potion.”
“Sorry, Professor,” said Jack, throwing an elbow into Gavin’s gut. “I always told him he needs a haircut.”
“God, you sound like Ginny’s Mum,” said Teddy.
“Who I still haven’t met, by the way,” said Jack. “Hell, I haven’t met any of the famous people you got around you.”
“Yeah, well,” Teddy shrugged. “They’re nothing special. I mean… are you really eager for me to meet your Mum and Dad?”
“Nah, my parents are a couple of wankers,” said Jack, watching as the potion turned from a clear to a pale blue color. “But your godparents, they’re famous, you know?”
“Didn’t know celebrity was such a draw in our friendship, Pearson,” Teddy drawled.
“Well, it’s not,” said Jack. “But, still… it’d be cool to tell my folks that I met the Harry Potter, you know?”
“Well,” Teddy said with a sigh. “I suppose I could talk to my Gran, see if she wouldn’t mind you visiting during the holiday.”
“Wicked…”
“Oh, I think I recognize this potion!” Jennifer said. “Professor Alcahest, is this related to the De-Aging potion?”
“Yes, it is,” said Alcahest. “But a much less predictable version, I’m afraid. I wouldn’t suggest using this Shrinking Potion to make yourself younger. Anything but a specific dose and you could find yourself back as an embryo.”
“Woah,” Gavin breathed.
“Yes, quite,” said Alcahest. “This potion should be used primarily on plants and other organic compounds for storage purposes. I must say, Miss Devereau, you seem to have quite a grasp on the subject material.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jennifer said with an embarrassed shrug. “I read ahead a bit.”
“Read ahead to fifth year?”
“I like to be prepared,” she said simply.
“Very good,” Alcahest said with a smile. “Then you should have no difficulties with tonight’s homework.”
“We’ll see when I hand it in, I suppose.”
Alcahest gave Jennifer a quick nod before turning to help one of the Hufflepuffs who had turned their potion into lime gelatin. Gavin threw a sideways glance at Devereau.
“So you know what the properties are of caterpillar and daisy root?” he asked.
“Yep,” Jennifer said triumphantly.
“And you can do your homework tonight?”
“Of course!”
“And you’ll let me copy you?”
“Oh, hell no.”
“Please?”
“You have to learn to do it by yourself,” said Jennifer. “It would be cheating if I helped you too much.”
“Even if I withhold our snog?”
Jennifer looked at Gavin and snorted. “Since when have you ever been able to withhold a snog?”
“Oh,” Gavin said dangerously. “Just watch me…”
Jack looked over at Teddy. “What time do you got?”
Teddy pulled out his pocket watch. “Ten thirty five.”
“Five sickles that they don’t make it to noon.”
“Oh, sod off,” Gavin said, glaring at Jack.
“Yyyyyeah, no,” Teddy said, stirring his potion. “I’m not willing to take that bet.”
“So we can come visit, too, right, Ted?” Jennifer asked as she threw her spleen into the cauldron.
“Sure, why not?” said Teddy. “We’ll make a party of it.”
“Cuz I want to meet your girlfriend.”
“Oh, for God’s…” Teddy groaned, dropping the stirring stick into the cauldron. “Hermione’s not my girlfriend!”
“And yet your face gets all red whenever we bring her up,” she continued. “Funny how that happens.”
“We’ve been through this,” Teddy said through gritted teeth. “And Potions is not the time for me to repeat everything.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” said Jennifer innocently. “So, send your girlfriend an owl yet?”
Teddy’s head dropped onto the table in surrender. “No, I’m sending her one tonight.”
“Good,” Jennifer said with a little perk. “And you’re planning on stirring your potion, right?”
Teddy’s head leapt up, seeing that, since he stopped stirring, his potion had turned pink and developed a rotten egg odor. He fell back, groaning in frustration, as Professor Alcahest rang his bell.
“And time’s up!”
“What time is it again?”
“I don’t know,” Christine said groggily to Victoire. “I can’t see my watch.”
“It’s twelve past midnight,” said Professor Sinestra. “And after you’ve been in this class long enough you will be able to figure out the time without looking at your watch. The moon’s position is all that you will need to decipher time, day, and month.”
“But in the meantime…” Sam Welts, another fellow Gryffindor first year with short spiked hair, said. He was cut off by a jaw-cracking yawn.
“I don’t see what all of the fuss is about,” said Sinestra. “I thought you would all enjoy being allowed to stay up this late.”
Victoire tried to come up with a retort, but found her brain just wasn’t awake enough to produce one. She remembered begging her Mum and Dad to let her stay up past midnight when she was at home. But that was before enduring four days’ worth of classes.
“Now if you could all look through your telescopes,” Sinestra continued, wandering around the top of the tower, where the students were all bundled up against the chill of autumn darkness, “we will be plotting the position of the planets. You will find that your textbooks and inks are enchanted to illuminate in the darkness, so Lumos spells will not be needed.”
“Not that we know how to do them, anyway,” Theresa muttered under her breath. “Bosh taught us how to float feathers, no way that’s more useful than…”
“When you do learn how to cast Lumos,” Sinestra said loudly, hearing every word that Theresa said in the quiet night, “it would still be suggested that you avoid using it during Astronomy class. Bright lights will only hinder your night vision, and make it more difficult to see the stars and write on your charts. Your texts and charts are at a level low enough where they will not give you retinal burn.”
“Oh, thank God for that,” Theresa said sarcastically.
“Get to work,” Sinestra snapped. “And any more back talk from you, Miss Daulby, and you’ll find yourself in detention. Which, I might add, I hold after class. And I doubt your other professors would appreciate you pulling an all-nighter. I’ve heard those who have detention with me quickly find themselves with a backlog of punishments from falling asleep in class.”
Theresa grumbled something unintelligible, but, to Victoire’s relief, turned back to her telescope with no further argument. She might have only been here a few days, but Victoire already wanted Gryffindor to win the House Cup. Having someone like Daulby in their House probably didn’t help their chances, so Victoire would take any defusing she could get.
Okay, she thought with a sigh, turning back to her own telescope. Chart the planets. Chart the planets… Mercury…
Mercury…
Merc…
“Hey, Teddy!”
Teddy, Carla, and Edmund were halfway across the grounds when he saw Victoire jogging down from the castle.
“Hey, Vic,” he said as she met up with the group, other third years passing four when they stopped. “What are you doing out here?”
“I’m done for the day,” she replied, squinting in the sunlight. “I promised Hagrid at the station that I’d come visit him, but I haven’t had a chance. What about you three?”
“We just got done with Care of Magical Creatures,” said Edmund. “You timed it pretty well, I think Hagrid’s done with his classes, too.”
“Yeah, I think he should be done packing by now,” said Teddy, taking a quick glance back at Hagrid’s hut.
“Oh,” Victoire said, slightly disappointed. “I was hoping I could see something cute.”
“Hagrid’s definition of cute is a little different than most people’s,” said Edmund.
“Well, there’s Fang…” said Teddy.
“But they were kind of cute today,” Carla said. “A little vulgar, perhaps, but…”
“How bout this?” Teddy said to Victoire. “I’m done till dinner. Want me to come with you? Maybe I can talk him into showing you some stuff.”
“Sure!” Victoire said with a bright smile.
“Cool,” he said, adjusting his bag on his back and turning to his friends. “I’ll see you at dinner, right?”
“We’ll save you a spot,” said Carla, and she and Edmund turned to continue their journey back to the school. Teddy and Victoire watched them for a few moments before turning on their heels and walking towards Hagrid’s hut.
“So I haven’t had a chance to talk to you much this week,” Teddy said as they walked.
“Yeah, I know,” Victoire said. “It’s been busy. I’m still trying to get used to everything.”
“Doing okay so far?”
“Mostly,” she said with a shrug. “I fell asleep in Astronomy.”
Teddy burst out laughing. “You too, huh?”
“Pretty common, huh?”
“Oh, yeah,” said Teddy. “You get used to it eventually. In the meantime, you can use History of Magic to catch up on your naptime. I swear, Binns would probably keep lecturing even if everyone decided to skip. And he wouldn’t even know anyone was gone.”
“Yeah, I got that impression, too,” said Victoire with a small chuckle. “He is a little dry, isn’t he?”
“No, mummies are little dry,” said Teddy as they approached the hut. “Binns is a bloody desert.”
Victoire’s laugh carried across the grounds, loud enough to get the attention of the big old boarhound inside the hut. Fang blasted his way through the door and towards the students, knocking Teddy onto his back.
“Down, Fang!” Hagrid yelled as he came around from the back of the hut, a cage in his right hand. With his other, he grabbed Fang by the collar. “You’re getting his robes all dusty!”
“The robes are fine,” said Teddy, wiping dog slobber from his face.
“What are you doin’ here, Teddy?” Hagrid asked. “Didja ferget…? Oh, hullo, Victoire!”
“Hi, Hagrid,” said Victoire, petting Fang, who was sniffing around her clothes. She was grateful that she had changed out of her robes and into jeans and a hooded sweatshirt. The house elves wouldn’t have to worry about cleaning Fang snot out of them before classes started again on Monday.
“I was wonderin’ when you were comin’ down here,” he said, a broad grin buried in his beard. “Enjoyin’ your firs’ week, are yeh?”
“I’m getting used to it,” she said, bending down. “What’s that?”
“Oh, this?” Hagrid said, lifting the cage. “This here’s a Jarvey. Teddy can tell yeh all abou’ ‘em, since I taught ‘im about ‘em today, righ’, Teddy?”
“Um, yeah, sure,” Teddy said as the ferret-like creature, about the size of a terrier, crawled its way around the cage. “It’s a carnivorous animal. Pretty normal except that it…”
“Bollocks!” the creature squeaked.
“…That it can talk,” he said. “Just not very well…”
“Yar,” said Hagrid. “Right little pottymouth this one has.”
“Cocksucker!”
“Sorry bou’ that,” said Hagrid. “This one’s been spendin’ a little too much time with the Slytherins, I think. He doesn’t even really know what he’s sayin’.”
“Shite-eating arseface!”
“I think I’ll put ‘im away fer a bit,” Hagrid stammered, the skin showing through his black bush turning bright pink. “Be ri’ back.”
“So,” said Victoire as Hagrid walked around to the back of the hut, “what are you doing this weekend?”
“Not much,” said Teddy. “I have a meeting with Mackenzie tonight.”
“Who’s that?”
“Oh, Mackenzie Cairill,” he said. “He’s my metamorph coach. I never told you about him?”
“You might have,” Victoire said with a shrug as she sat down on an empty crate. “It’s not like we’ve talked much outside of, you know, holidays. The things you do and don’t tell me kinda blend after a while.”
“Yeah, I know,” said Teddy, sitting down next to her. “I suppose we have a lot more time to hang out now, huh?”
Victoire snorted laughter. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere.”
“I will admit that it’s going to be weird,” Teddy said. “Having someone here who I actually know from outside of school.”
“Yeah,” said Victoire. “I guess I’ll have James and Fabian to deal with in a few years-“
“I don’t envy you there,” Teddy said wryly.
“-But, yeah, until then it’s just me and you.”
“Sounds fine to me,” he said. “You’re good people.”
“Thanks,” she said with a small smile. “So, have you heard from Caroline yet?”
“No,” Teddy said. When his friends asked about Hermione Caroline, he had a tendency to lash out at them. But Victoire knew her already, and had a decent idea of the entire situation. “No, I promised I’d write her tonight, so I’ll probably do that after Metamorphing.”
“Tell her I say hi?”
“Of course.”
“All righ’,” Hagrid said as he came back around to the front. “Peekie’s all put down for the night.”
“Peekie?” Victoire said in disbelief.
“And you’re just in time,” said Hagrid with a wink. “Come on, Victoire. I wanna introduce you to someone.”
“And does the someone have something to do with the dead squirrel you’re carrying?”
“Maybe,” Hagrid said brightly, oblivious to the tone of mild nausea in Victoire’s voice. “Come on.”
“Come on,” Teddy said with a smile that matched Victoire. “You’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I know where we’re going,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Victoire hesitated, and then pushed herself off of the crate and followed Teddy and Hagrid a short distance into the forest until they reached a clearing.
“What are we looking for?” she asked.
“Hang on,” said Hagrid. He put his fingers to his mouth and let out a short, shrill whistle. Moments later, Victoire squealed with fright, grabbing Teddy’s arm instinctively as a giant, winged, half-horse, half-bird walked out to Hagrid.
“Vic, it’s okay,” said Teddy quietly. “Do you know who that is?”
Victoire looked up at Teddy and, realizing what she was doing, quickly released herself from his arm. “Sorry,” she said, apologizing for a few things in one word.
“Now, Victoire,” Hagrid chided, “I’ve talked about him a few times aroun’ you and your folks. Surely you recognize him.”
“What are…? Wait…” Victoire took a small step forward. “Is that Buckbeak?”
“Yeah,” said Hagrid proudly. “He’s not as young as he used to be, but… inin’ he gorgeous?”
“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “He’s beautiful.”
“Told you you didn’t have to be scared,” said Teddy.
“Do you wanna say hi?” Hagrid asked. “You like him already. He knows it.”
“S…Sure…”
“Alrigh’, then,” he said. “Now, what yeh do is you walk forward slowly. Keep eye contact. He’s a mite skittish aroun’ strangers, that’s why I haven’t brought him to Shell Cottage ter meet yeh earlier. Tha’s good… Now bow to him, and see if he bows back.”
Victoire did as she was told. Stepping forward gingerly, she bent at the waist, breaking eye contact with the giant orange eyes. Within moments, Buckbeak returned the bow with one of his own.
“Good job, Victoire, good job!” Hagrid said. “Blimey, tha’s fantastic, I’ve never seen Bucky reac’ to anyone so quickly. He mus’ really like you, Vickie. You’ve got a natural talen’, there. Can’ wait to have you in me class in a few years.”
“I can’t wait to be there,” said Victoire with a huge grin as she approached the hippogriff. As she stroked his beak, Teddy Lupin looked on with a warm smile, and Victoire Weasley knew that this was where she belonged.
Shall We Begin? (1/2) / Previous Chapters / Jarethhi