Hogwarts Story, Part 28
Nov. 5th, 2007 05:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthNothin' much to today. Though many hours after posting this, I lost almost 2 hours of work on FFXII, including two boss fights. That was kind of annoying. :)
“What?” asked Marcus.
Celestine frowned. “Delia, who is this? Can we trust him?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed. Of course, as I had expected, even members of my own house could not be expected to recognize ‘Robert Black,’ the Ravenclaw. I trusted Celestine completely, but there simply wasn’t time to explain. “Yes, he’s my date, his name is Robert. I trust him.” I hoped that would be adequate. Turning to the frog, I addressed myself instead to it. “What do you mean?”
“The key to her heart, it’s missing!” the frog sounded very distressed, in a croaking sort of way. “She needs it, or else she’ll die! We must find the key!”
“Croaks came to me not long after Professor Tremens was arrested,” Celestine explained. “I’ve been taking care of him since she was gone. This is the first thing he’s said about a key, though. This is the first thing he’s said at all! I didn’t know he could talk until about an hour ago, when he started telling me we needed a key. I thought you might know what he’s talking about?”
“Yes,” I nodded, quite certain I did. Without hesitation, I withdrew the chain from around my neck, which had the key still on it. “Here’s the key,” I passed it to the frog, which looked relieved, though I can’t say how ever I recognized such an emotion on the visage of a frog, nor explain really how it appeared. The frog stuck out its immensely long tongue and snatched the key into its mouth.
Celestine looked at me, clearly quite shocked. “How did you get that?”
“It was in Professor Tremens office. I thought it must be important, so I’ve kept it with me. Does she need it immediately, frog?”
“I imagine she does,” said Marcus. “At lunch, the Headmaster announced that Professor Tremens had collapsed in Azkaban.”
I would have known had I only gone to eat! Of course, I wouldn’t have known of the key then anyway, so it wouldn’t have mattered, I realized a moment later. Still, I felt like I’d endangered her even further. “Very well, then we must go to Azkaban at once. Professor Patronious is close friends with Professor Tremens, I think it would be alright to let him know of our plans. Robert…?” I trailed off, unable to ask him what I needed to without exposing his identity. I could just see the edges of an apologetic grin from under his mask. “Celestine, since the…since Croaks trusts you, you should definitely go along. See if you can find someone who can apparate to take us there, unless you know how?” she shook her head, and I sighed. “I do not either. I must hurry, I have to be back before the students from Durmstrang arrive.”
Not a moment after the words left my mouth, though, there was a great commotion from the front of the hall. The Groundskeeper, wearing a truly hideous set of proper dress robes which appeared to be stained with dried blood – I refused to believe that was their intended shade – stood in the door way, which was swept wide open, and behind him were arrayed our arrivals. They were early. In a voice worn out from breathing the dank air of the dungeon, he announced: “Headmaster Palucid Nox, and the students from Durmstrang!”
Without even pausing for the announcement to finish, Palucid Nox swept in to the Great Hall, and I saw him for the very first time. How I wish it had been the last! I’ve rarely in my life gazed upon any one with such a commanding presence. Though he wasn’t tall, he held himself with confidence. His robes were of the highest quality, in black so deep that they somehow made other blacks around them appear to be mere shades of some other color, trimmed in ermine. In one hand, he gripped a staff as tall as himself, knobbed and crooked yet clearly very strong capped in a gem that seemed to glitter even when there was no light on it. He did not lean on the staff, though, and one needed only look at him to see how vital and strong he was, standing proudly, not a strand of gray in his long brown hair. I was deeply impressed, but I was also very frightened of him, for his mouth was twisted in a smirk as if he gazed upon insects, and his eyes were cruel. “Headmaster Nigellus,” he said disdanefully, as if even our Headmaster was entirely beneath him and his notice, “if this is the best you have to offer such a distinguished guest as myself – and my students, of course,” he added as an afterthought, “it’s a wonder that you have any guests at all!”
“If you’ll recall, Headmaster Nox,” and I was surprised to hear rank hatred in the Headmaster’s voice. Had these two truly been friends when they were in school? If I had not heard it from Elena, I could scarce have believed them anything other than blood enemies. “You refused to host at all, so I can only assume the welcome you have received here to be infinitely better than the welcome that might have been received at your school. Will you please introduce your students to us?”
Nox sniffed, as if he might possibly be convinced to deign to do so. “Dietrich Ubelwalt, Quidditch captain and beater,” he announced, and the first student, who was the tallest boy I had ever seen in my life other, perhaps, than our own Slytherin Deletrius Grindelwald, stepped in and bowed deeply. Even bowing, he was taller than many of the first years. He must have been 8 feet when standing straight! Nox looked furious for a moment, but the expression was gone so quickly that I wasn’t sure I had seen it at all. “Wolfgang Baer, beater,” the next young man came forward; small and wirey, he looked more the image of a seeker than a beater to me. Instead of bowing, he simply cracked his knuckles intimidatingly. “Lukas Silberholz, chaser,” an ordinary looking boy with a beard that made me wonder if I should consider him a man instead, surely no student of 18 could have such a growth. “Gregor Langhaar, chaser,” he looked like he had some sort of daily ritual involving beating his head against a wooden board, for his face was very flat and seemed to be scored and pocked with many old scars. “Mathilde Wronska, chaser,” if not for the name, I would hardly have believed her a girl despite her chest and long red hair, for she was tremendously tall and broad. She and the beater, Baer, could easily have traded positions and everyone would have thought it perfectly normal. “Lars Yuvgeny, seeker,” even their seeker was large, very tall but wiry. I suspected he was very good at what he did. “And Ory Kazinsky, keeper,” who was large and sturdy yet somehow almost invisible next to his companions. He sneered as much as they did, but I got the feeling that the crowd made him nervous. Somehow, though, I suspected that those nerves would fade on the pitch. Indeed, looking at them, I suspected that they were all very good. Now, they all stood lined up by the door, and to a one they were looking down their noses at us, though some of them – Gregor, to some extent, and especially Dietrich – also looked kind of curious. I wondered if any of them had noticed the ceiling yet. Surely no one could look at that most wondrous of sorceries with such disdain, I thought. “And what of your team?” asked Nox, making the word ‘team’ sound like a synonym for the word ‘rubbish.’
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Headmaster Nigellus announced in the least welcoming way I had ever heard. “The representatives for our team are: Sereminia Guant, Quidditch captain and chaser,” the terrifying Slytherin stepped forward, and her smile put the disdain of the Durmstrang’s to shame, so aloof and superior did she manage to look. “Deletrius Grindelwald, beater,” though I didn’t think much of him, it was nice to have someone so tall on our side. All the Durmstrangs looked utterly shocked, especially Ubelwalt. I suspected he’d never had to look up to meet someone’s eyes in his entire life. “Maya Lunari, beater,” for a wonder, I realized that the twins were wearing different clothing, which meant that for once I would be able to tell them apart. Maya wore an attractive blue dress, and I memorized it quickly. She swaggered up, her sister trailing behind, awaiting her turn. “Aya Lunari, chaser,” her dress was green, and when she joined the line she and her sister both shot cheerful, mischievous smiles at the visitors. This worried me, I’ll admit, for they had repeatedly suggested truly underhanded tactics during practices, and I wondered what they were plotting now. No, I reminded myself, whatever it was it had nothing to do with me. “Reginald Farnsworth, chaser,” the little, shy Gryffindor came forward, looking utterly terrified. He was only about half the height of Uberwalt, and the entire Durmstrang team looked at him with open incredulity, which seemed to terrify him even more. I was surprised I couldn’t see him shake. “Lydia Malfoy, seeker,” sneering, the girl came forward, but she too was rather slight, and somehow the sneer came off as understated. “And Delia Prince, keeper,” concluded the Headmaster. I had been so wrapped up in watching everyone else that I was startled to hear my name, and I hurried forward, almost tripping on my dress. What must the Durmstrangs think of us, I wondered! Me, clearly very clumsy, and terrified Reginald, and a team almost entirely made up of young women – except for Deletrius, who probably could have lifted the entire lot of the rest of us without difficulty. I tried to smiling in a welcoming fashion, but I knew I was almost as afraid of the intimidating team we stood before as Reginald was. At that moment, I knew with a dire certainty that the game, still three days off, was going to be brutal.
“What?” asked Marcus.
Celestine frowned. “Delia, who is this? Can we trust him?”
“Oh!” I exclaimed. Of course, as I had expected, even members of my own house could not be expected to recognize ‘Robert Black,’ the Ravenclaw. I trusted Celestine completely, but there simply wasn’t time to explain. “Yes, he’s my date, his name is Robert. I trust him.” I hoped that would be adequate. Turning to the frog, I addressed myself instead to it. “What do you mean?”
“The key to her heart, it’s missing!” the frog sounded very distressed, in a croaking sort of way. “She needs it, or else she’ll die! We must find the key!”
“Croaks came to me not long after Professor Tremens was arrested,” Celestine explained. “I’ve been taking care of him since she was gone. This is the first thing he’s said about a key, though. This is the first thing he’s said at all! I didn’t know he could talk until about an hour ago, when he started telling me we needed a key. I thought you might know what he’s talking about?”
“Yes,” I nodded, quite certain I did. Without hesitation, I withdrew the chain from around my neck, which had the key still on it. “Here’s the key,” I passed it to the frog, which looked relieved, though I can’t say how ever I recognized such an emotion on the visage of a frog, nor explain really how it appeared. The frog stuck out its immensely long tongue and snatched the key into its mouth.
Celestine looked at me, clearly quite shocked. “How did you get that?”
“It was in Professor Tremens office. I thought it must be important, so I’ve kept it with me. Does she need it immediately, frog?”
“I imagine she does,” said Marcus. “At lunch, the Headmaster announced that Professor Tremens had collapsed in Azkaban.”
I would have known had I only gone to eat! Of course, I wouldn’t have known of the key then anyway, so it wouldn’t have mattered, I realized a moment later. Still, I felt like I’d endangered her even further. “Very well, then we must go to Azkaban at once. Professor Patronious is close friends with Professor Tremens, I think it would be alright to let him know of our plans. Robert…?” I trailed off, unable to ask him what I needed to without exposing his identity. I could just see the edges of an apologetic grin from under his mask. “Celestine, since the…since Croaks trusts you, you should definitely go along. See if you can find someone who can apparate to take us there, unless you know how?” she shook her head, and I sighed. “I do not either. I must hurry, I have to be back before the students from Durmstrang arrive.”
Not a moment after the words left my mouth, though, there was a great commotion from the front of the hall. The Groundskeeper, wearing a truly hideous set of proper dress robes which appeared to be stained with dried blood – I refused to believe that was their intended shade – stood in the door way, which was swept wide open, and behind him were arrayed our arrivals. They were early. In a voice worn out from breathing the dank air of the dungeon, he announced: “Headmaster Palucid Nox, and the students from Durmstrang!”
Without even pausing for the announcement to finish, Palucid Nox swept in to the Great Hall, and I saw him for the very first time. How I wish it had been the last! I’ve rarely in my life gazed upon any one with such a commanding presence. Though he wasn’t tall, he held himself with confidence. His robes were of the highest quality, in black so deep that they somehow made other blacks around them appear to be mere shades of some other color, trimmed in ermine. In one hand, he gripped a staff as tall as himself, knobbed and crooked yet clearly very strong capped in a gem that seemed to glitter even when there was no light on it. He did not lean on the staff, though, and one needed only look at him to see how vital and strong he was, standing proudly, not a strand of gray in his long brown hair. I was deeply impressed, but I was also very frightened of him, for his mouth was twisted in a smirk as if he gazed upon insects, and his eyes were cruel. “Headmaster Nigellus,” he said disdanefully, as if even our Headmaster was entirely beneath him and his notice, “if this is the best you have to offer such a distinguished guest as myself – and my students, of course,” he added as an afterthought, “it’s a wonder that you have any guests at all!”
“If you’ll recall, Headmaster Nox,” and I was surprised to hear rank hatred in the Headmaster’s voice. Had these two truly been friends when they were in school? If I had not heard it from Elena, I could scarce have believed them anything other than blood enemies. “You refused to host at all, so I can only assume the welcome you have received here to be infinitely better than the welcome that might have been received at your school. Will you please introduce your students to us?”
Nox sniffed, as if he might possibly be convinced to deign to do so. “Dietrich Ubelwalt, Quidditch captain and beater,” he announced, and the first student, who was the tallest boy I had ever seen in my life other, perhaps, than our own Slytherin Deletrius Grindelwald, stepped in and bowed deeply. Even bowing, he was taller than many of the first years. He must have been 8 feet when standing straight! Nox looked furious for a moment, but the expression was gone so quickly that I wasn’t sure I had seen it at all. “Wolfgang Baer, beater,” the next young man came forward; small and wirey, he looked more the image of a seeker than a beater to me. Instead of bowing, he simply cracked his knuckles intimidatingly. “Lukas Silberholz, chaser,” an ordinary looking boy with a beard that made me wonder if I should consider him a man instead, surely no student of 18 could have such a growth. “Gregor Langhaar, chaser,” he looked like he had some sort of daily ritual involving beating his head against a wooden board, for his face was very flat and seemed to be scored and pocked with many old scars. “Mathilde Wronska, chaser,” if not for the name, I would hardly have believed her a girl despite her chest and long red hair, for she was tremendously tall and broad. She and the beater, Baer, could easily have traded positions and everyone would have thought it perfectly normal. “Lars Yuvgeny, seeker,” even their seeker was large, very tall but wiry. I suspected he was very good at what he did. “And Ory Kazinsky, keeper,” who was large and sturdy yet somehow almost invisible next to his companions. He sneered as much as they did, but I got the feeling that the crowd made him nervous. Somehow, though, I suspected that those nerves would fade on the pitch. Indeed, looking at them, I suspected that they were all very good. Now, they all stood lined up by the door, and to a one they were looking down their noses at us, though some of them – Gregor, to some extent, and especially Dietrich – also looked kind of curious. I wondered if any of them had noticed the ceiling yet. Surely no one could look at that most wondrous of sorceries with such disdain, I thought. “And what of your team?” asked Nox, making the word ‘team’ sound like a synonym for the word ‘rubbish.’
“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Headmaster Nigellus announced in the least welcoming way I had ever heard. “The representatives for our team are: Sereminia Guant, Quidditch captain and chaser,” the terrifying Slytherin stepped forward, and her smile put the disdain of the Durmstrang’s to shame, so aloof and superior did she manage to look. “Deletrius Grindelwald, beater,” though I didn’t think much of him, it was nice to have someone so tall on our side. All the Durmstrangs looked utterly shocked, especially Ubelwalt. I suspected he’d never had to look up to meet someone’s eyes in his entire life. “Maya Lunari, beater,” for a wonder, I realized that the twins were wearing different clothing, which meant that for once I would be able to tell them apart. Maya wore an attractive blue dress, and I memorized it quickly. She swaggered up, her sister trailing behind, awaiting her turn. “Aya Lunari, chaser,” her dress was green, and when she joined the line she and her sister both shot cheerful, mischievous smiles at the visitors. This worried me, I’ll admit, for they had repeatedly suggested truly underhanded tactics during practices, and I wondered what they were plotting now. No, I reminded myself, whatever it was it had nothing to do with me. “Reginald Farnsworth, chaser,” the little, shy Gryffindor came forward, looking utterly terrified. He was only about half the height of Uberwalt, and the entire Durmstrang team looked at him with open incredulity, which seemed to terrify him even more. I was surprised I couldn’t see him shake. “Lydia Malfoy, seeker,” sneering, the girl came forward, but she too was rather slight, and somehow the sneer came off as understated. “And Delia Prince, keeper,” concluded the Headmaster. I had been so wrapped up in watching everyone else that I was startled to hear my name, and I hurried forward, almost tripping on my dress. What must the Durmstrangs think of us, I wondered! Me, clearly very clumsy, and terrified Reginald, and a team almost entirely made up of young women – except for Deletrius, who probably could have lifted the entire lot of the rest of us without difficulty. I tried to smiling in a welcoming fashion, but I knew I was almost as afraid of the intimidating team we stood before as Reginald was. At that moment, I knew with a dire certainty that the game, still three days off, was going to be brutal.
