Chapter 11
Two days until the first task and I was really, truly beginning to freak out. I hardly slept and I didn't eat, but, at the very least, it soon became the only thing my limited mental capacity was capable of worrying about. Suddenly, the fact that my brother was mad at me, I wasn't on speaking terms with two of my best friends, and the Malfoy family knowing there were a pair of half-bloods marring their otherwise perfect family tree wasn't so terrifying, when compared to my impending demise. It was like having a paper cut and then being stabbed in the leg. All of a sudden, the paper cut didn't seem quite so bad.
Altair, much to my surprise, actually taught me a thing or two after I reluctantly agreed to his deal. That Head Boy title wasn't just for show after all.
"I think you have that one down well enough," he stated. Never well, just well enough. "Let's move on to the patronus. They don't teach that in sixth year, do they?"
"No, why would they bother?" I asked rhetorically, rubbing the knots from my tense shoulders. "They keep all the dementors in Azkaban. It's not like I'm ever going to run into one of them on the street."
Altair didn't need to say a word to get his point across. I could practically feel his irritation searing into the side of my head from where he was standing a few feet away.
"This tournament isn't going to be like a walk down the street," he enunciated slowly, strolling closer. "There's no telling what you may encounter during the tasks."
"Fine, fine," I sighed, raising my wand. "Tell me what to do."
"First of all, lower your wand. You don't need that quite yet," he said, taking my hand and easing it down to me side. "Now, think of something happy."
Happy? Ugh, did I have to?
"My brother makes me happy," I hedged, though it came out more like a question.
"Does he really?" Before I could ask him what he meant by that, he continued, "You need to think of a specific memory, your happiest memory, and concentrate hard on it, not just a vague idea of happiness."
That was slightly more difficult. I could hardly remember what I ate two days ago, let alone some hypothetical happy memory.
"What's yours?" I inquired, before I could stop myself.
"Pardon?"
"What's your happiest memory? What do you think of when you do a patronus?" I elaborated, though I was pretty sure he understood me the first time.
I heard an exhale, like it was some great bother, but he answered anyway. "I don't. I've never managed a successful patronus myself. I suppose I don't have a happy enough memory to inspire me yet. but I understand the theory."
What a ray of sunshine.
"That's not so bad. At least you know that you still have the happiest day of your life to look forward to," I reasoned. "You won't be doomed to compare your every waking moment to past joy. It's a good thing, really."
Altair gave me a queer look, though he was saved by answering from the sound Cassius barreling into the room. Subconsciously, I edged away from him and he released my arm.
"Geez, Cass. Where's the fire? What's the rush?"
He lifted a hand in the universal gesture to ask for a moment to regain his breath.
"Aragon..." he huffed. "The task... he said..."
"Whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait," Altair said flatly. "We can't waste anymore time. The first task is in two days, after all."
Cassius ignored him with impressive focus. He took a deep cleansing breath before trying again.
"I was hanging back late in Care for Magical Creatures- which the professor is not pleased you skipped, by the way- when Professor Aragon came to talk to Professor Pipstrelle about some animals he was supposed to be looking after. I thought it was weird, because I was like "wait a second, Aragon doesn't own any animals," and then they were talking about the first task. Aragon was asking Pipstrelle if he thought that any of the champions would be smart enough to have studied up on their deadly monsters-"
"Did he actually use the word monster?" I grimaced.
Just what I needed, a monster in my life.
"I'm more interested in the deadly part," Altair steepled his hands together as he thought over this new information. "It's not a lot to go off of."
"If you both would stop interrupting me," Cassius cut in, adding under his breath, "like you always do," before continuing, "then you would know that's not all! After Aragon asked if the champions would think to study up on their monsters, Pipstrelle laughed, saying that they, ie. you, would be better off just coming to the task in full battle armour and hoping for the best."
"How is that of any help?" Altair asked, sounding almost bored.
"No, every little bit helps. If only I just knew what creature it was," I mused contemplatively. "Then I could come up with a strategy..."
"I'm willing to settle for 'don't let whatever it is catch you'," Altair decided, unfazed.
I rolled my eyes.
"Thanks for your input, but I don't think we can count on my outrunning the thing," I objected wryly. "Or, heavens forbid, things." Shaking of that dark thought, I implored, "Cass, could you go check out all the books you can on dangerous magical creatures from the library? Meanwhile, we'll practice more spells here. There's no time to waste."
I saw Cassius's warm, coffee coloured eyes flit from me to Altair and back, before he nodded slowly.
"Sure thing. I'll only be a minute."
Cass walked back the way he came, but I hardly noticed, because Altair chose that moment to fire a Pepper Breath hex at my chest. The effect was immediate. The feeling of getting all the air knocked from my lungs from the impact of the spell was bad enough, but I would argue that regaining my breath was actually the worst part. Heat burned the back of my throat and a plume if fire shot out my mouth, catching on my robes. I tore them off, stamping the flames out with my foot.
"Real mature," I muttered, glaring at him.
Unabashed, Altair said, "You need to be constantly on your guard if you wish to survive the Tournament. You have a wand, use it. No more muggle solutions to your problems." He nodded to my steaming robes on the floor and my foot that still hovered over them in case the flames rekindled. Okay... Point taken. "Though perhaps breathing fire would aid you in your task the day after tomorrow. Would you like to keep it?"
Altair schooled his expression to one of complete serious sincerity.
"If you fancy not having second degree burns all over your body then I suggest you undue this," I threatened, a wave of fire shouting out my nostrils. I leapt back in surprise, despite myself.
Sighing, he complied, waving his wand noncommittally in my direction. Immediately, the burning sensation disappeared.
We practiced various offensive and defensive spells until Cassius returned half an hour later. I took far too much pleasure in my work, especially the few times I managed to successfully hit Altair with a spell, laughing too maniacally to ever be considered ladylike.
"I'll try not to take your joy personally," he remarked once I'd finally managed to hit him dead on with Expulso, sending him crashing into a the wall on the opposite end of the room.
"By all means, take it personally. It's definitely personal on my end."
Cass shook his head in thinly veiled amusement from where he sat on the ground with a thick tone cracked open in his lap and several books stacked on either side of him.
"How about... a hydra?" he quizzed, running his finger over a picture of a many-headed serpent.
"I have to chop off it's head and burn the stumps to prevent them from growing back," I recited from memory, my stomach churning at the thought of actually killing anything.
"And where will you get something to decapitate the creature?" Altair prompted, stepping back into a dueler's stance across from me.
"I dunno, summon a sword, I guess?" I suggested.
"Let's see your summoning spell, then," he ordered. He pointed to one of the piles beside Cass. "Try summoning a book."
"Summoning? Really?" I said sardonically. "That's child's play!"
"Just do it."
I huffed our an indignant breath, grudgingly aiming my wand at the book and casting, "Accio!"
It flew easily into my hand, though heavier than I expected. "Happy?"
"I'll be happy when I have my prize money," Altair muttered under his breath.
"You and me both," I snapped back.
"What about an acromantula?" Cassius interrupted cautiously, sensing rising irritation at our looming deadline.
"Pray and hope for the best?" I proposed, mentally imagining those massive spiders with their hairy legs and thick, clicking pincers.
Altair fired a spell at my head to show just how much my comment amused him.
"Fine, I would... blind it," I said, too distracted with deflecting the hex to think up a better response. "Or something."
"Something?" he pressed, unleashing wave after wave of spells, leaving me barely barely enough time to defend myself, let alone think. "Deflecting should be second nature. You shouldn't even have to think about it. You should be capable of attacking, defending, and planning your next move all at the same time!"
"We can't all be as gifted as you," I ground out through clenched teeth.
Behind me, Cass continued throwing out the names of various magical creatures for me to develop strategies using their weaknesses, if I was lucky and they had one, in order to defeat them and complete the task. It was strenuous work, tiring on both mind and body to fight Altair while responding to Cass at the same time, but rewarding in its own right. I could feel my reflexes improve to the point where I even manoeuvred past the defensive and fired off a few of my own jinxes. Every once and awhile, Altair would pause his relentless barrage of attacks to teach me a new spell he thought I might need for some blood thirsty creature. I looked forward to these breaks, but they never lasted long.
At quarter to curfew, we packed up to head to our respective dormitories. Or so I thought.
"If you think you're off the hook for the night, you're delusional," Altair whispered, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the Slytherin Common Room. "You have the first task in less then thirty-six hours. Nice try. Training isn't done yet."
I sighed sadly, but privately admitted he had a point.
Most of the Slytherins didn't seem to appreciate having a Ravenclaw invade their private space, which I sympathised with to an extent, but their disdain was more subdued than it used to be before that blasted article was published. I guess a half-blood relative of the Malfoys was still a few steps higher than a mud blood relative of nobody. Regardless, no one dared object to the Head Boy himself bringing me into their common room. A few even cheered us on as we trained, offering tips and suggestions as to how I might improve. By midnight, most cleared out into their respective dormitories, leaving me and Altair with the entire room to ourselves.
So far past curfew, it was a shock to hear the portrait hole click open, and even more so when I saw who stepped through it. I unintentionally captured Lyra's gaze just as she caught sight of me and saw her eyes widen in recognition. And then came the very noticeable jaw clench.
She was still pissed.
Before I could say anything, she sprinted down the stairs to her dormitory, slamming the door loud enough that I could hear it rattle on its hinges.
I tossed myself face first onto one of the high backed couches and had to resist the urge to scream.
"Maybe we should call it a night, then," Altair commented coolly from where he was leaning on the mantle with his back to the fire.
"I reckon so," I sighed, speaking into the plush material of the couch, not caring if he could decipher my muffled words.
"Here are some blankets." He waved his wands above through the air and the most hideous blanket I had ever seen in my life appeared, accompanied by half a dozen pillows. A second later, they collapsed onto my head like an avalanche. "Good night. We begin again in a couple of hours."
Without further ado, he walked along the thick green carpet directing him towards his dormitory.
"Hey! I'm not staying here!" I blurted out, quickly jumping to my feet and sending the pillows flying. "I'm going back to my own bed. I have enough problems without getting an awful crick in my neck from sleeping awkwardly on this to-pretty-to-actually-be-comfortable lounge!"
"No, you're not," he repeated, not bothering to look at me. "You'll only get caught sneaking back past curfew and earn yourself detention the night before the task. This way, you won't get detention and I will be able to wake you up at the crack of dawn to continue training."
"I wouldn't get caught," I grumbled irritably, falling back onto the couch nonetheless.
"Sure you wouldn't."