Chapter 63

Chapter 63

“Oh, is there something delicious today? It smells wonderful, Hermione.” In his dream, Suer happily picked up a fork and drew in the rich aroma.

“Hermione, smell that. Is something burning?”

“Burning?”

Suer’s eyes snapped open in the darkness. He blinked in confusion.

He had not imagined it. The air truly smelled scorched.

He was still in the dormitory, not a broad, bright house. Nor was Hermione there.

What had happened?

Suer tumbled out of bed, picked up the wand beside it and tapped the wall lamp. Gentle light revealed the way to the dormitory door.

“Merlin’s eggs…”

Suer stared open-mouthed at the common room. Its walls were scorched in black patches. Several grey snakes with red-glowing eyes slithered through the room, and waves of heat rolled over him.

“Ashwinders?”

The memory of what he had read struck him like a club. The creature he had never seen in the flesh matched the knowledge in his head.

One of the grey painted stones in the corner suddenly glowed white and released a burst of heat. It collapsed into ash, and a tiny, slender snake crawled from the remains, writhing forward and leaving a grey trail.

A black hole burned through the carpet beneath the former “stone”.

“Who put Ashwinders in here?”

There was no time for questions. Suer had to wake every badger in the common room.

Otherwise, they might rise in the morning to discover the castle had burned down.

“Ahem. Sonorus.” Suer pointed his wand at his throat. At a moment like this, he could not help feeling grateful that Hermione made him read every day.

Knowledge was never more valuable than when one desperately needed it.

“FIRE!” Suer roared. “Wake up! The common room is on fire!”

Crash, bang, clatter.

The first sounds came from the dormitory directly behind him, which had taken the full force of the amplified shout. Justin and Morn tumbled from their beds in panic.

“Fire? Where?” Justin still held a half-finished cup of pumpkin juice. By instinct, he flung it out.

Whoomph.

Thanks to him, the flames burned even higher.

“Merlin’s lacy stockings… Are those Ashwinders?” Morn stood equally dumbfounded behind the barrel entrance, staring at the slithering snakes.

“What brainless idiot brought Ashwinders in here?”

“It’s magical fire. Ordinary water won’t help.” Suer stopped Justin from rushing back for more. “Help me wake the older students.”

With Justin and Morn’s assistance, every young badger was forced from a warm bed.

“Use the Freezing Charm. The incantation is Immobulus! Damn it, if I find the person responsible for this prank, I’ll hang them up and give them fifty lashes with a whip soaked in salt water!” An older student in a dressing gown angrily swept his wand. Beam after beam of blue light struck the moving grey snakes with precision.

“First that damned alarm, and now Ashwinders!” An older witch, her hair in chaos and sleep marks upon her face, was equally furious. “There’s another one!”

“This won’t work,” said a familiar older student at last–Cedric Diggory. “We must find every egg, or they’ll reproduce without limit.”

“I’ve sent someone to find our Head of House,” Gabriel shouted. “First-years, move aside and shelter in your dormitories. Burns are no joke. Anyone who knows the Freezing Charm, help us. Those who don’t, search the dormitories for Ashwinder eggs.”

“They leave grey trails wherever they pass. The marks are easy to see. Don’t ignore ash either. Shout when you find a trail.”

Professor Sprout arrived quickly. The badgers did not yet know that beyond their common room, the whole castle had fallen into chaos.

Viewed from a distant hillside, white flashes appeared again and again behind the windows of Hogwarts.

It looked like fireworks endlessly blooming within the castle.

“Vestigia Revelio.” Professor Sprout gripped the tip of her wand in one hand, spoke the spell and slashed downwards.

Every trail an Ashwinder had left turned gold. Visible and hidden alike, magic exposed them all.

“Hiss…” Suer drew a sharp breath at the dense golden lines covering the common room.

The sight was enough to awaken anyone’s fear of tangled patterns.

“Freezing Charms, children,” Professor Sprout said. “Destroy them.”

“As quickly as possible!”

“Then take your wands. These creatures are everywhere in Hogwarts. The castle needs us.”

The sleep-deprived badgers snapped fully awake at their Head of House’s words.

“Yes, Professor!” they answered together.

Why did it suddenly feel so inspiring?

The young badgers were ordinarily lazy. They ate, rested and occasionally arrived late. Yet nobody could deny their unity.

Gabriel, their “cult leader”, directed everyone methodically as they cleared every trail from the common room. Even the first-years who had not mastered the Freezing Charm had work: wearing dragon-hide gloves, they collected frozen Ashwinders and unhatched eggs.

Each badger performed an assigned role. Soon they expanded their operation through the basement corridors, where they encountered Slytherin’s little snakes.

Enemies meeting with murder in their eyes?

Not at all. No one would start an internal quarrel while the castle burned. Besides, they were all children, the oldest only fifteen. Their grudges were not truly matters of life and death.

Suer did hear them trade insults before agreeing on a wager: whichever house found and dealt with the most Ashwinders would win. The losers had to walk around the Great Hall in women’s clothes during dinner.

Had they triggered some peculiar obsession?

Oh, Marcus Flint had suggested the stakes. That explained everything.

The feud among older students did not interest Suer. He was more worried about Hermione in Gryffindor Tower at the top of the castle.

A little later, as the force from below reached the third floor, it met the lions descending from above.

Suer sighed with relief. Hermione was there in pink pyjamas, energetically waving her wand.

And the little eagles?

There was no need to worry. They had already entered the library to extinguish the fires. Several grey trails of ash lay outside its doors. The library possessed fire-prevention charms, but even the longest-lasting enchantment would fail if too many blazes erupted at once.

To Ravenclaw, knowledge was wealth.

And wealth had to be defended to the death.