➣ 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝟏𝟎 “𝙋𝙚𝙥 𝙏𝙖𝙡𝙠”
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Nicolás was starting to feel dizzy. For the last twenty minutes, ever since he woke up to the sound of Cedric’s constant mumbling, the older boy has been pacing their dorm incessantly. It was barely eight o’clock, for Merlin’s sake, and if he didn’t do something, Cedric would most likely make a hole in the floor.
At the moment, Cedric had his back turned to him, his hands moved in different manners —probably trying to remember as many Quidditch tactics as he could. It was actually kind of funny, probably as much as it was endearing. Cedric was worried because of Harry’s impeccable performances as a Seeker since last year.
He was probably having doubts because Harry was more typically built to be a Seeker; he was lithe, small and lean, which helped greatly with speed and agility. Cedric on the other hand was much bigger, taller and broader; not only his arms were bigger, but his shoulders and back were much broader than Harry’s.
Nicolás thought it was ridiculous. Cedric had spent so many hours training relentlessly to be just as agile as any Seeker needed to be. And not just that, but Cedric was an incredible leader for the house team, the members of the team adored him.
He had already had enough time to go out to the bathroom, use the toilet, and brush his teeth without Cedric taking the slightest notice. Already fed up with Cedric’s pointless pacing, Nicolás moved in the warmth of his sheets, he grabbed a piece of parchment wasted from his bedside table, making a ball with it.
“Catch it!” Nicolás yelled, throwing the paper ball in Cedric’s direction. As he turned, Cedric’s arm moved instantly, and his hand grasped the ball effortlessly.
Even Cedric looked surprised at this, looking at Nicolás with wide eyes.
“See, Treacle?” insisted Nicolás with a smile, standing from his bed. “You’re more than ready to face Gryffindor.”
Walking up to him with a smile, seeing as his pretty blush crept up the boy’s neck, Nicolás grabbed Cedric by the forearm, and dragged him out of the dorm and out to the corridors, their arms intertwined. “Now, all you need is to have a delicious and nutritious breakfast, have a pep-talk with your team—who adores you—and go out and play to the best of your ability.”
As they reached the Great Hall, with flushed cheeks and a hammering heart, Cedric turned to look at Nicolás. “You—you really think that?”
As they sat, Nicolás started to fill Cedric’s plate with many options he knew Cedric liked. “I don’t think so. I know so,” his voice was steady.
“You’re really good at this pep-talk stuff, Muffin,” said Cedric as a smirk crept up the sides of his lips.
Nicolás first chocked, then passed the mouthful with a large gulp of coffee, then, pretending to be as nonchalant as possible, and ignoring the way Cedric’s smirk widened, he shrugged, “I don’t know if this can be called a pep talk, not that it matters anyway,” he leaned closer to Cedric’s ear, “you’ve got this, Peach.”
Now it was Cedric’s time to choke on his breakfast, and Nicolás, mentally, pumped a fist at his clear victory for this battle in their ‘Pet Name War’. Nonetheless, making great efforts as to not laugh, he gently patted and rubbed Cedric’s back as the boy desperately drank juice to pass down the food.
Once a red-faced and out-of-breath Cedric stopped violently coughing, Nicolás raised his thermos filled with coffee in his direction, and Cedric, getting the hint, raised his goblet half-filled with juice. After a soft ‘clink’, both boys continued to eat their breakfast in comfortable silence, waiting for the clock to hit eleven.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
Around twenty past ten, Nicolás saw around his periphery as Harry and Caelum approached him, almost in a hurry, Ron and Hermione completely silent behind them.
As both boys gestured for him to approach them, Nicolás leaned to whisper on Cedric’s ear.
“Wait for me outside, would you?”
Looking at the Gryffindors, and then at Nicolás, Cedric nodded, standing up and walking out with Alec, who was also in the Quidditch team.
Nicolás walked up to them and moved them a little away from the other students, so they wouldn’t be heard.
“What happened?” he cut to the chase.
Harry looked at him, before looking at Caelum. He only received a steady glare, and an unquestionable voice. “Tell him.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Nicolás muttered; it didn’t look good, it was always weird to see Caelum so serious.
Harry let out a heavy sigh. “Riddle’s diary is gone,” he finally said.
Nicolás looked at him incredulously, “What do you mean ‘is gone’?”
As Harry opened his mouth to speak, Caelum dived in, “Someone got in his dorm, they literally went through all of his stuff, destroying part of it in the process.”
“Did you report them?” Nicolás looked back at Harry. Ron and Hermione remained just as silent as they had been, both looking equally worried.
“No,” Harry said quickly.
“Okay, that’s good,” both looked at Nicolás, surprised for his comment. “It would’ve been harder to try and explain to any professor what’s about with that diary,” explained Nicolás.
The other two nodded.
“Now, I think both of you have a Quidditch match to play, right?”
“Will you be cheering for us?” Harry asked shyly.
“Of course!” said Nicolás.
“Even with your own house playing against us?” inquired Caelum, looking at him playfully distrustful.
Nicolás brought his hand to his chest in a dramatic way. “But of course, it’ll be suffocating for me to use two different scarves in this weather, you know. You all better start to appreciate me more, eh?”
The others chuckled.
“Now, move along, Cedric needs to gather his stuff, and I think you two too.”
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
In between animated chatter, they walked out of the Great Hall, towards the place where their paths divided. The staircases: Gryffindor would walk up then, while Hufflepuff would go down towards the basements.
As they separated, Nicolás heard it, yet once more. The same vicious, hateful, venomous, and acid voice. And he and Harry came to an abrupt halt in their steps.
Once again, Nicolás couldn’t understand the words the creature was saying. Although, it was enough for him to understand something. The creature was hungry, and its purpose was to kill, and it was going to do it again, and it would be soon.
“The voice!” said Harry, looking over his shoulder. “I just heard it again — didn’t you?” He looked straight at Nicolás.
Everyone around them, except for Nicolás, shook their heads, their eyes wide open. Nicolás and Hermione locked eyes for a moment.
“I need to go search for something in the library,” Nicolas said, looking at Cedric.
Confused, Cedric only nodded, “Sure.”
The corridors were mainly empty, as everyone was making their way out to the Quidditch Stadium. Nicolás’ fast steps resounded on the tiles; Hermione’s hurried ones quickly came in harmony with his.
“I think I just know what it is.”
“What is it?”
“I need a book to confirm it, but we may be dealing with a Basilisk, ever heard of it?”
“Only in stories, but most of those are wizarding realities, so. It’s like a chicken, right?”
“For muggles, yes. We call those, Cockatrice. A Basilisk is a kind of serpent, it’s called the King of Serpents, because they can reach monstrous proportions.”
As Hermione took in that information, they entered the library in a haste, ignoring Madam Pince’s sharp look. Nicolás moved in a second towards the Magizoology section, taking out an incredibly large and old book, Most Macabre Monstrosities.
With a tap of his wand on the cover, the pages of the book started to pass in a frenzy, five seconds later, it stopped at page 724. With the title, Basilisk.
“Oh, you need to teach me that,” said Hermione.
Nicolás looked at her with a smirk, “we, bookworms, need our tricks,” then, he read the book’s passage.
“Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it.”
“This explains everything. The spiders behaving weirdly, the voice we’ve heard, Harry being a Parselmouth, and me not getting the Basilisk’s words. Wait, something’s been killing Hagrid’s roosters. I bet you anything, it wasn’t a something, but a someone.”
“But none of them died, none of the victims,” commented Hermione, looking intently at the book, reading over and over the same words.
“Harry said Colin was looking through his camera, and Justin probably saw the Basilisk through Sir. Nick, but a ghost can’t die again.”
Hermione looked ashen, gasping for air. “We need to warn them.”
The girl ripped the page out of the book, writing something Nicolás didn’t catch over it, but as they made their way out, she turned back to Nicolás. “I need to use the bathroom; I’ll catch up to you.”
Nicolás nodded, making his way toward the dressing room, before the teams walked out.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
As he made his way into the changing room, he found the Gryffindor team finishing their pep talk. As they started to walk out, Nicolàs grabbed the back of Harry’s and Caelum’s robes, dragging them to the back.
“What the—Nico? What are you doing?” asked Caelum.
The thunderous cheer from the stands could be heard. People roared as the Gryffindor team made their way out.
“Hermione and I may have our fingers on it.”
“On what?” pressed Caelum, looking out. The team was waiting for them to start the match.
“The monster Slytherin left behind.”
As Harry’s and Caelum’s eyes opened to comical proportions, Professor McGonagall made her way, half running, through the field, an enormous purple megaphone in her hand.
“This match has been canceled,” Professor McGonagall called through the megaphone, addressing the packed stadium. There were boos and shouts. Oliver Wood and Cedric, looking equally devastated, landed and ran toward Professor McGonagall.
“But, Professor!” Oliver shouted. “We’ve got to play — the Cup — Gryffindor —”
Professor McGonagall ignored him and continued to shout through her megaphone:
“All students are to make their way back to their House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!”
Then she lowered the megaphone and beckoned Harry over to her, she had Cedric beside.
“Potter, I think you’d better come with me... You too Cardona.”
Confused, and now worried, because Hermione never caught up to him, Nicolás sent a questioning glare at Cedric, but the boy looked just as lost as everyone else.
From his periphery, Nicolás saw Ron detach himself from the complaining crowd; he came running up to them as they set off toward the castle. To their surprise, Professor McGonagall didn’t object.
“Yes, perhaps you’d better come, too, Weasley...”
Some of the students swarming around them were grumbling about the match being canceled; others looked worried. The four of them followed Professor McGonagall back into the school and up the marble staircase. But they weren’t taken to anybody’s office this time.
“This will be a bit of a shock,” said Professor McGonagall in a surprisingly gentle voice as they approached the infirmary. “There has been another attack ... this time, a triple attack.”
“Oh, Merlin,” muttered Nicolás as Professor McGonagall pushed the door open, and they all entered. Instinctually, his hand moved to grasp Cedric's, and in the warmth of their intertwined fingers, he found solace, as the whole place felt bone-chilling.
Madam Pomfrey was bending over a sixth-year girl with long, curly hair. Nicolás didn't recognize her, but on the two beds next to her was —
“Hermione!” Ron groaned.
“Amara!” Nicolás gasped.
Hermione and Amara both lay utterly still, their eyes open and glassy. Their skin had taken a prominent ashen hue, and if you looked closely, you may have seen a small burst of cold smoke coming out of them.
“They were found near the library,” said Professor McGonagall. “I don’t suppose either of you can explain this? They were on the floor next to them...”
She was holding up two small mirrors, a circular one, and a heart-shaped one.
Harry and Ron shook their heads, both staring at Hermione. Nicolás pointed at the heart-shaped one.
“That's Amara's favorite mirror.”
“I will escort you two back to Gryffindor Tower, I need to address my students in any case,” said Professor McGonagall heavily. “Professor Sprout is waiting outside for you, Mr. Cardona, Mr. Diggory.”
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
“All students will return to their House common rooms by six o’clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities.”
With the last one, there had been three attacks and six victims. Three Gryffindors: Colin, Sir. Nick, and Hermione. Two Hufflepuffs: Justin and Amara. And one Ravenclaw: Penelope Clearwater.
As Professor Sprout closed the parchment from which she had been reading, she looked up to them, her face sullen and the worry clear in each wrinkle adorning her countenance.
“I must say, all this attacking business has left the entire teaching staff quite shaken and troubled. As Head of House, the well-being of every Hufflepuff student is my responsibility. And to see some of our own petrified like this — now, Professor Dumbledore was quite clear — if the culprit is not found, there'll be no choice but to close Hogwarts for good. So, what I mean to say is — this is extremely serious. If any of you knows anything that could possibly help identify who or what is behind these incidents, you must come to me or another teacher at once.”
As Professor Sprout walked out of the common room, the whole place erupted in chaos. There were loud and hushed conversations alike, conspiranoids, people trying to theorize everything.
Cedric looked out of place in one corner. He was pale, probably in worry, and his eyes darted throughout the entire place, until they fell on Nicolás, and he let out a relieved sigh.
Nicolás walked up to him, grabbed his arm, and dragged him to their dorm, closing the door.
“What was that all about?” Cedric asked, his deep voice an octave higher.
“The monster of Slytherin. Hermione and I have a pretty solid theory. It is a Basilisk.”
“Have you told anyone?”
“I need to collect more proof before telling them.”
“And how are you planning on doing that?” Cedric inquired; his voice agitated.
“Right now, I have no idea. The only thing I know is that a friend of mine is out there, crying herself alone,” Nicolás squeezed one of Cedric’s arms, “I’ll see you later,” and without waiting for an answer, he left the room.
Back in the common room, Aurora was seated on one of the couches, crying. Her face was already red, and the wet lines descending from her eyes made her eyes look swollen.
“Oh, love,” Nicolas whispered, wrapping his arms around Aurora, and guided her face to his neck.
The girl’s sobs seemed to get louder at such a distance. He rubbed soft circles along her back, as her body softly spasmed.
“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she choked out, shaking her head.
“The Mandrakes are due to be ready in a couple of weeks, we’ll get them back sooner than you think, eh? Why don’t you take a shower and go to bed?”
“Yeah,” she sniffled. “I’m so tired. I better go to bed now.”
Nicolás stood up with her, watching as she slowly walked away.
“Why don’t they just take Potter? Everyone knows he’s the one behind this nonsense.”
Slowly turning, Nicolás saw a second year, the same one Harry was arguing with when Justin was attacked: Ernie McMillian. He had a nasty look on his face as he spoke to others, but his eyes were glued on Nicolás.
“Excuse you?” asked Nicolás, slowly raising one of his brows.
“You’re his friend, aren’t you? Hand him in,” Ernie demanded.
The conversations around them slowly started to extinguish.
Nicolás gave the younger boy an incredulous look. “Second year, say what?”
“Everyone knows it was Potter—”
“Are you listening to yourself?!” every conversation fell dead.
Cedric walked out of the dorm to try and defuse the confrontation, but stopped on the rails of the stairs, not expecting Nicolás to be at the center of the discussion.
“You have some nerve to speak so loudly, his best friend was attacked today, for crying out loud! One of my closest friends was attacked today! I know Justin was attacked, and I’m really sorry for that, but many more than just you are hurting right now. This is supposed to be Hufflepuff’s house, we’re supposed to be the kind to be there for each other, to help each other out, but all I hear from most of you is whispering, judging, and pointing fingers. And it’s a shame, Helga Hufflepuff is probably rolling in her grave right now.”
Everyone around them seemed to be very taken aback by Nicolás spurt. Cedric could feel something jumping inside his stomach, but something told him it wasn’t the food he ate.
Frowning at him, Ernie seemed to look around for help, but nobody spoke, in a last desperate attempt, he said, “you’re new here, what would you know about Hufflepuff House?”
Nicolás barked a laugh. “You’re completely right, Earnie, imagine how appalling it is, for the new guy understands this house’s morals more than some of you, you should feel ashamed.”
Without waiting a second, and under everyone’s wide-open and surprised gaze, Nicolás made his way towards his room. At the entrance, with a front-row view of the previous scene, was a wide-eyed Cedric.
“Oh, well—” Cedric coughed on his fist, “That was—cough—certainly, —hmm, something else—you are something—something else—cough.” Cedric’s cheeks were pretty red by now, making his freckles stand out, and his eyes bounced on anything but Nicolás’, why he looked so flustered was an incognita that confused Nicolás. Cedric’s breathing was also a little bit labored, as if he had been running, or trying to get hold of himself.
Of course, Nicolás had absolutely no clue of the jumping party a troop of kangaroos seemed to be having in the lower part of Cedric’s belly in response to his passionate display down there.
Smirking, letting the taste of bile from the past altercation pass, Nicolás playfully punched Cedric’s solid chest. “You’re also something else, Mr. Biscuit.”
Without another word, Nicolás made his way inside their dorm, hearing as Cedric took in very deep breaths.
•─────⋅☾☽⋅─────•
“I don’t know, Ced. They’ll probably take a few days before deciding if they’ll close the school or not.”
As the night fell, Cedric and Nicolás were alone in their dorm, as their other dormmates decided to stay in the common room to discuss, probably related to the attacks.
“It still sucks. I really like it here,” said Cedric from his bed.
“I’ll write home tomorrow; we’ll need a plan for when—”
Suddenly, Nicolás’ school bag, at the side of his bed, softly vibrated. That could only mean one thing: Caelum was writing on their connected diaries.
“What?” asked Cedric.
“Wait,” said Nicolás, taking out the diary.
Harry and Ron are planning to visit Hagrid tonight.
Nicolás took out his quill and ink, accommodating them on his bed, all under Cedric’s confused gaze.
What do you mean visit? Are they gonna try to interrogate him?
IDK, but they sounded very convinced on the idea of Hagrid letting loose the monster the first time.
Cedric stood up from his bed, walking up to finally sit behind Nicolás on the latter’s bed, looking over his shoulder at the diary. Nicolás ignored the violent shiver that run down his spine at the feeling of Cedric’s body warmth, or his hot breath on the back of his neck.
Please tell me this Riddle doesn’t only sound suspicious to me.
Man, he sounds like a total snake, and I don’t mean he was in Slytherin.
I think we both fit under my cloak.
Yeah.
Did they say when they would go?
No, but I guess they’ll wait until their dormmates are asleep to avoid questions. Maybe around thirty past ten.
Perfect. I’ll pick you up at ten and we’ll go to Hagrid’s and wait for them. Use the Disillusionment Charm.
Deal.
As Nicolás closed the diary, he could feel Cedric’s gaze burning the back of his neck. Looking back at Cedric, they both nodded.
And so, when Cedric returned to his own bed, Nicolás laid on his, waiting until the moment everyone else fell asleep. Putting on his Invisibility Cloak, he quickly walked out of the basement, waiting at the staircase for Caelum to arrive.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder, making him jump. Softly chuckling, Caelum stopped the Disillusionment Charm. Both of them got inside the cloak, and using one of the secret passages, thanks to the Marauder’s Map, they found themselves outside of Hagrid’s hut.
Seconds after they had knocked, Hagrid flung the door open. They found themselves face-to-face with him aiming a crossbow at them. Fang, the boarhound, barked loudly behind him.
“Oh,” he said, lowering the weapon and staring at them. “What’re you two doin’ here?”
“What’s that for?” questioned Nicolás, pointing at the crossbow as they stepped inside.
“Nothin’ — Nothin’ — With so many attacks — Doesn’t matter, I was going to make some tea.”
He hardly seemed to know what he was doing. He nearly extinguished the fire, spilling water from the kettle on it, and then smashed the teapot with a nervous jerk of his massive hand. Then, the door was knocked once more. This time, it was Harry and Ron who entered.
“Are you okay, Hagrid?” said Harry. “Did you hear about Hermione?”
“Oh, I heard, all righ’,” said Hagrid, a slight break in his voice.
He kept glancing nervously at the windows, almost as if he was expecting someone to come. He poured them all large mugs of boiling water (he had forgotten to add tea bags) and was just putting a slab of fruitcake on a plate when there was yet another loud knock on the door.
Hagrid dropped the fruitcake. The other four exchanged panic-stricken looks, then Nicolás threw his Invisibility Cloak over him and Caelum, while Harry did the same with Ron. Hagrid checked that they were hidden, seized his crossbow, and flung open his door once more.
“Good evening, Hagrid.”
It was Dumbledore. He entered, looking deadly serious, and was followed by a second man.
The stranger had rumpled gray hair and an anxious expression and was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.
“That's Cornelius Fudge. The Minister for Magic.” Caelum whispered in Nicolás' ear.
Hagrid had gone pale and sweaty. He dropped into one of his chairs and looked from Dumbledore to Cornelius Fudge.
“Bad business, Hagrid,” said Fudge in rather clipped tones. “Very bad business. Had to come. Five attacks on Muggle-borns. Things’ve gone far enough. Ministry’s got to act.”
“I never,” said Hagrid, looking imploringly at Dumbledore. “You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir —”
“I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” said Dumbledore, frowning at Fudge.
“Look, Albus,” said Fudge, uncomfortably. “Hagrid’s record’s against him. Ministry’s got to do something — the school governors have been in touch — Even Cardona seems on edge, both his girls’ boys are here.”
Both Nicolás and Caelum tensed at the quick mention of their grandfather, mothers, and themselves.
“Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest,” said Dumbledore. His blue eyes were full of a fire.
“Look at it from my point of view,” said Fudge, fidgeting with his bowler. “I’m under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen to be doing something. If it turns out it wasn’t Hagrid, he’ll be back and no more said. But I’ve got to take him. Got to. Wouldn’t be doing my duty —”
“Take me?” said Hagrid, who was trembling. “Take me where?”
“For a short stretch only,” said Fudge, not meeting Hagrid’s eyes. “Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you’ll be let out with a full apology —”
“Not Azkaban?” croaked Hagrid.
Before Fudge could answer, there was another loud rap on the door.
Dumbledore answered it. Both Nicolás and Caelum growled under their breaths.
Mr. Lucius Malfoy strode into Hagrid’s hut, swathed in a long black traveling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. Fang started to growl.
“Already here, Fudge,” he said approvingly. “Good, good...”
“What’re you doin’ here?” said Hagrid furiously. “Get outta my house!”
“My dear man, please believe me, I have no pleasure at all in being inside your — er — d’you call this a house?” said Lucius Malfoy, sneering as he looked around the small cabin. “I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here.”
“And what exactly did you want with me, Lucius?” said Dumbledore. He spoke politely, but the fire was still blazing in his blue eyes.
“Dreadful thing, Dumbledore,” said Malfoy lazily, taking out a long roll of parchment, “but the governors feel it’s time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension — you’ll find nine signatures on it. I’m afraid we feel you’re losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Three more this afternoon, wasn’t it? At this rate, there’ll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an awful loss that would be to the school.”
“Only nine of them?” asked Dumbledore repressing a smile.
A scowl quickly crypted up Malfoy’s face. “Cardona’s a fool for not agreeing, but he doesn’t have much voice, anyway.”
Both Nicolás and Caelum smirked. It was no surprise Abu Pedro stood up to Malfoy, swinging two people from him.
“Oh, now, see here, Lucius,” said Fudge, looking alarmed, “Dumbledore suspended — no, no — last thing we want just now —”
“The appointment — or suspension — of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge,” said Mr. Malfoy smoothly. “And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks —”
“See here, Malfoy, if Dumbledore can’t stop them,” said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, “I mean to say, who can?”
“That remains to be seen,” said Mr. Malfoy with a nasty smile. “But as nine of us have voted — It's majority.”
Hagrid leapt to his feet, his shaggy black head grazing the ceiling.
“An’ how many did yeh have ter threaten an’ blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh? Bet yer angry yeh couldn't threaten Mr. Pedro,” he roared.
“Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid,” said Mr. Malfoy. “I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won’t like it at all.”
“Yeh can’ take Dumbledore!” yelled Hagrid, making Fang, the boarhound, cower and whimper in his basket. “Take him away, an’ the Muggle-borns won’ stand a chance! There’ll be killin’ next!”
“Calm yourself, Hagrid,” said Dumbledore sharply. He looked at Lucius Malfoy. “If most of the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside —”
“But —” stuttered Fudge.
“No!” growled Hagrid.
Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy’s cold gray ones.
“However,” said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, “you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”
For a second, Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to flicker toward the corner where they all stood hidden.
“Admirable sentiments,” said Malfoy, bowing. “We shall all miss your — er — highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any — ah — killins.”
He strode to the cabin door, opened it, and bowed Dumbledore out. Fudge, fiddling with his bowler, waited for Hagrid to go ahead of him, but Hagrid stood his ground, took a deep breath, and said carefully, “If anyone wanted ter find out some stuff, all they’d have ter do would be ter follow the spiders. That’d lead ’em right! That’s all I’m sayin’.”
Fudge stared at him in amazement.
“All right, I’m comin’,” said Hagrid, pulling on his moleskin overcoat. But as he was about to follow Fudge through the door, he stopped again and said loudly, “An’ someone’ll need ter feed Fang while I’m away.”
The door banged shut, and they all came off the Invisibility Cloaks.
“We’re in trouble now,” Ron said hoarsely. “No Dumbledore. They might as well close the school tonight. There’ll be an attack a day with him gone.”
Fang started howling, scratching at the closed door. Nicolás and Caelum connected eyes, a heavyweight settling in the pit of their stomachs.
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