A Couple of Toads
Building New Hogwarts had been hard; Constructing New Durmstrang was considerably more difficult.
“I kept Hogwarts simple, you see,” explained Undine, ruefully, at the end of the first construction day. “It is very plain, and everything is straight. But I let myself be more elaborate here, for Durmstrang, and that takes time. More spells, more thought. I worry that I will not be forgiven by Hogwarts for that. Or you!”
Ginny shook her head, despite her exhaustion. The Durmstrang spells were easily twice as long as the Hogwarts spells had been, and there seemed to be many more of them. “Hogwarts is a castle, so it’s meant to be simple. And they love it, Undine, I know they do.”
She was studying what they had wrought: Rows of galleries, stepping up the slope, with larger gaps where the bigger buildings would be.
“And the rock is different here,” Undine was explaining. “Less stable than the other side. So, we need many columns to support the roofs while we’re building.”
“So how long will it take, do you think?”
An expansive shrug. “Twice as long as Hogwarts, possibly,” Undine said thoughtfully. “The construction part, I mean. The finishing, the furnishing, should take around the same. And then you should get your Dining Chamber back! Maybe we should start earlier, tomorrow?”
Ginny managed to push back on that idea. It had been particularly hard to climb out of bed this morning, even with Undine quivering with excitement to start.
The days that followed weren’t easy. Ginny was finding that when Undine had finished for the morning, it was hard to resist the temptation to crawl back into bed, and ignore all she had to do as Headmistress of Beauxbatons. Instead, her days were a haze of tiredness, and she had to rely ever more on winging it with her lesson plans, and regurgitating last year’s lessons, even when they didn’t really fit this year’s plans.
It’s only a couple of weeks, she told herself repeatedly. She tried to persuade Undine to finish the accommodation first, so the Durmstrang pupils could move out of the Dining Chamber, but Undine shook her head, regretfully. “It’s too dangerous,” she said. “What if we made a mistake, and it all collapsed?”
But slowly the new school took shape. It grew in a very different way to New Hogwarts, and nothing seemed to change, day after day. At last the facades of the buildings began to appear, with their attached columns and arched windows that Undine swore at continually.
“But they’re beautiful, Undine,” Ginny repeatedly exclaimed.
“Yes, but they are total bitches to build,” said Undine, grumpily. “So slow!”
The library was almost finished now, even lovelier than on Undine’s plans, Ginny thought. “And people will be queuing up to go ill,” she said, admiring the hospital as it grew towards completion.
In a final burst of effort, Undine finished the student accommodation just before lunch on the twelfth day. That did mean Ginny had to use her Time Shifter to switch back a full six hours and begin her day again, when she knew she already had a back-breaking day ahead of her.
Firstly, though, she marched up to Ruby’s room and hammered on her door. She opened the door and looked in at Ruby as the latter emerged from her bedclothes looking uncharacteristically tousled and bleary.
Ruby looked at her inquiringly. “Undine needs you,” Ginny said. “Don’t forget your notebooks.”
Ruby was back modelling for Gosse the following day.
“Doesn’t Undine need you to translate?” Ginny asked in puzzlement.
Ruby shook her head. “I’m not sure what language she’s using,” she said, “But she’s making herself entirely understood, somehow. As soon as Gosse is finished with me here, though, I’ll pop back to Hogwarts.”
“Do they still need your help?”
“Oh, you know,” said Ruby, vaguely. “Stuff…”
Qudra Jatt – a very unhappy looking Qudra Jatt – came to see Ginny in her office the following day.
“Hello, Qudra,” Ginny said in surprise. “I haven’t missed one of your lessons, have I?”
Qudra shook her head, but continued to look miserable. She stood and fidgeted, and Ginny realised that Qudra hadn’t fully decided yet whether to talk about whatever was worrying her.
“Well, sit down,” Ginny said with a sigh. “I could do with a change from marking homework.”
Qudra sat, but continued to look agonised.
“Spit it out,” Ginny said eventually.
Qudra looked at her in amazement. Ginny realised she’d used an English idiom that didn’t really translate into French.
“Is it a house problem?” Ginny prompted after a silence. “With your friends there?”
Qudra shook her head. “A work problem?” Ginny tried next. “Is it Concetta? Have you had a row? No?” More silence. “Is your mother OK? Or don’t you feel well? You’re not sleeping properly?”
Qudra’s eyes were suddenly round. “How did you guess?”
“I didn’t. If you noticed. You’re not sleeping? Why not?”
Back to unhappy silence.
“Come on, Qudra! We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“I’m not sleeping,” said Qudra in a low voice.
“Well, we’d already got to that,” said Ginny, still feeling at a loss. “Is it boyfriend trouble?” she tried. “Or girlfriend trouble?”
Qudra looked up at her with eyes full of tragedy. “Both,” she whispered.
“Both?” Ginny echoed, tactlessly.
“I really like them both,” Qudra said eventually. “But…” She was wringing her hands.
“And do they like you?” Ginny asked.
Qudra nodded. “We…” Another pause. “We’ve kissed,” she said in a low voice.
“Both of them?” A nod. “Well, that’s great,” said Ginny. “Isn’t it?”
Tears were spilling from Qudra’s eyes, which were closed now. Ginny felt a surge of pity. “Look, let me tell you this… Confidentially… Don’t tell everyone, right? I like girls and boys, Qudra. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“There is,” said Qudra, thickly, with a sniff. “There is. If they’re seeing each other.”
“Oh,” said Ginny. “Ooh.”
Qudra nodded. “Ooh.” She brought out a tissue and blew her nose, lengthily. She seemed calmer now her confession was out.
Ginny couldn’t think of any way to be tactful here. “Do they know…?”
Qudra shook her head, and the tears were flowing once more. “I… I don’t… want to upset them,” Qudra said woefully. “I lo… love them both. I don’t want to… They’re such amazing people. I worship them, really. And… And I didn’t think they’d noticed me… And after… And after… a match… we were all celebrating, because we’d won. Because they played so, so well. And I kissed… I kissed…. Cwenhild, and she kissed me back, and it was wonderful…. And then she had to go, and I…. and I… kissed Dan, and that was wonderful too.”
Ginny wasn’t sure her ears were working correctly. “This is Cwenhild and Dan - Gryffindor Cwenhild and Dan - we’re talking about?”
Qudra nodded, blinking tears away.
“So when was this?”
“Five weeks,” Qudra whispered. “And three days.”
“Well, that’s a long time ago, isn’t it?” said Ginny, trying to reassure her.
Qudra shook her head. “It… keeps happening…”
“With both of them?” Is that a naughty question?
Qudra nodded. “It’s… wonderful. And terrifying…”
“And they don’t know? About the other one, I mean?”
“No,” said Qudra, woefully. “But when they find out…” She gave an unsteady sigh. “I should… break up, I know I should. With b-both of them. But I…”
“If it’s just kissing…” Ginny started. But Qudra was already shaking her head. “With both…?” A nod this time. “Aren’t you a little young?”
Qudra’s expression became a glare.
“OK, OK… And you’re sure they’re an item?”
“Everybody says… Says they… got together when they both started school…”
“Perhaps they’re bored with each other by now…”
“I know they’re kissing. All the time. Juliet says… Juliet says it’s a bit of a joke, they’re so close.”
“Who’s Juliet?”
“Gryffindor Seeker.”
Ginny shook her head, trying to clear it. “Look, why should you have all the guilt here? They’re the ones playing around outside their relationship.”
“I know, but… I just… I just don’t want it to stop,” wailed Qudra. “Not for them! And not for me!”
“Well,” said Ginny. “I’ve had my relationships in a total mess in the past, Qudra. But I don’t think even I can give you any expert advice here.”
“I know what you would do,” said Qudra, woefully blowing her nose. “You’d tell them. You’re famous for it.”
“I’m not trying to be famous,” said Ginny, with feeling. “I’m just not very good at keeping secrets.”
“You have my secret now,” said Qudra.
“Yes, but…” Qudra was looking at her fixedly now. “Wait… You’re not expecting me to tell them…!”
“Oh, please, Headmistress…!”
“How am I supposed to tell them?”
“They know you,” Qudra was pleading. “They talk about you, sometimes. They know you are La Nue. They know they can trust you.”
“Look, what are you expecting here, Qudra? I’m really not suited to give advice. Most of my relationships have ended in flame and smoke…”
“I know. But this way I don’t have to see their eyes when the world ends.”
“I don’t want to either,” Ginny pointed out.
“But you are good at terrible jobs. Look at all you’ve done…. Please, Headmistress.”
Ginny’s sigh was halfway to a snarl. “All right. When’s the next Gryffindor practice?”
“Today,” said Qudra. “Four o’clock. Please don’t be late…” And she was hurrying from the office.
“At least she didn’t spoil my entire day,” Ginny said to herself as she trudged down the main path towards the Quidditch pitch. It was dry, to her relief, but there was a chilling wind blowing along the valley, making it unusually cold.
Yet it was a strange pleasure, after all this time, to find a place up the hill above the Quidditch pitch, and see the team arrive in their familiar Gryffindor robes, and watch them mount their brooms and fly into the air. She’d made sure she’d arrived before the practice started - but then she told herself it wasn’t fair to ruin the practice, that she should talk to them afterwards.
Nobody spotted her, to her relief, and she couldn’t see Qudra either, even though there were plenty of other observers.
Along the hill from her was a small group of Durmstrangs, talking amongst themselves while their eyes were glued on the players. And even though it wasn’t a match, there were supporters – mostly Beauxbatons, some Gryffindors, of course – chanting slogans and roaring and whooping with approval at the play.
The players ignored the audience too. She could make out Cwenhild, playing Chaser, and Dan’s unique dandelion hair – he was a Beater, it appeared – was easy to spot. But she couldn’t decide who the team captain was, except that he was the other Beater. The Seeker – Juliet – was rather large for a Seeker, but she seemed capable and fast all the same. Some of the plays they used were old, which made her feel very nostalgic, but there were enough new moves to keep her interested.
With a sinking heart she realised the sun was sinking too, and that the practice was coming to an end. She watched as they dropped to the ground and grouped around the captain. They ended with a cheer and started back towards Hogwarts. Ginny stood – she was stiff with cold now – and hurried precariously down the hill to catch them.
Both Dan and Cwenhild had longer legs than her, but when she called their names they turned and paused. They looked surprised to see her, so her vain hope that Qudra had already broken the news was gone.
“Hi, you two!” Ginny said breathlessly. “Are you busy?” She realised she was shivering.
They look puzzled and shook their heads. They were standing very close together. Would they even be prepared to share the same valley after this?
“Can I have a quick…? Look, I’m totally freezing here. How about a coffee?” The Dining Chamber was in sight.
“Coffee?” asked Cwenhild, looking slightly worried.
“Well, pumpkin juice… OK, Firewhisky if you like, but can we get out of this wind?” She hurried up between them, took an arm each and urged them towards Beauxbatons.
“Were you watching the practice?” Dan asked, still puzzled.
“Yes, I was. It took me back,” Ginny confessed, delighted to find a safe topic of conversation. “You’re not a bad Beater, Dan, and you’ve got some great moves, Cwenhild! So who’s the captain? The other Beater, right?”
“That’s Tom,” said Cwenhild. “He’s pretty good. He only took over this year. It was Ruby Balsam last year, of course, but she was always more interested in makeup…. Oh,” she said suddenly, going red. “She’s a friend of yours, I’d forgotten.”
“That’s OK,” said Ginny. “Captain, eh? I was always amazed she ever bothered to turn up when I was captain, but she was always there, even though it wasn’t football…”
It was a relief to pass into the warmth of the Dining Chamber. Ginny headed for her favourite table, near a fountain, and sat down. She waved the others to seats opposite. Perhaps I should have go them to sit next to me, she thought then, remembering Qudra’s words. Then I won’t see their eyes.
“Shouldn’t we go and get our drinks?” Cwenhild asked, uncomfortably. “Will they take British gold?”
“My treat,” said Ginny. Cliny, the head house-elf, appeared at her shoulder, grinning widely, making the two Gryffindors jump.
“Madame Headmistress!” she said with a huge grin. “This is a pleasure. Would you be wanting hot drinks? Coffee? Hot chocolate for you two?”
They nodded, uncomfortably, and Cliny hurried away.
“She reminds me of the Cheshire Cat,” remarked Dan as he watched her go. “Just a grin, appearing out of nowhere.”
“Is that a sort of cheese?” Ginny asked, vaguely.
“So are we in trouble?” Cwenhild asked. “Is that why you want to see us?”
Ginny shook her head, somehow cheered by this. “Trouble is McGonagall’s job, not mine,” she said.
“Oh,” said Dan. “I thought this was about Qudra.”
Cwenhild looked annoyed and horrified and gave him an immense shove. “What?” said Dan, injured. “What did I say?”
“So you both know…” said Ginny with relief.
Cwenhild was bright red now, and even Dan was pink cheeked. A house-elf – not Cliny – hurried up with their drinks and fussed around them until their drinks were almost touching their right hands, then bustled away.
“How do they know I’m not left-handed?” Dan asked in a whisper.
“Are you?” Ginny asked. Dan shook his head and took a sip of his hot chocolate. “Then don’t worry about it. So, in plain words even a headmistress can understand, you two are still an item, but you’re both fooling around with Qudra, and you both know about the other doing so?”
Dan choked on his drink. Cwenhild was staring fixedly at the table, her drink untouched in front of her. “Sorry, Headmistress,” she said. She nudged Dan again, more gently this time.
“Sorry,” mumbled Dan, wiping chocolate off his face.
“So, what the hell? Qudra’s really miserable at the moment, terrified she’s going to ruin your wretched relationship and hers as well! Is this a game you’re playing with her?”
“You said we weren’t in trouble,” said Cwenhild, rebelliously.
“That was when I thought you were a pair of star-crossed lovers, not a couple of toads.”
“Us?” said Dan, looking injured. “She’s a year older than us!”
Ginny looked at them in amazement. “No she isn’t. She’s your age!”
“She’s Fourth year…”
“No, doughnut, in French years she’s Fourth year, but if she was at Hogwarts she’d be Third year, OK? The years are the other way round here. When you start at Beauxbatons, you’re in the Sixth year. The year you do your N.E.W.T.s is the First year. Except we do our N.E.W.T.s in the Advanced year… Why am I having to explain all this? Anyway, you’re all the same age, so you can’t blame Qudra for this mess. On the plus side, she can’t blame you either, I suppose. And anyway, Qudra’s half the size of you two. Didn’t that make you think?”
Dan held his hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just a Beater,” he said. “I’m not meant to think.”
“Is she really upset?” Cwenhild asked, guiltily.
“’Fraid so,” said Ginny. “So what game is this?”
“It’s not a game,” said Cwenhild. “It’s just…” She stopped and looked at Dan. He shook his head, worriedly. Cwenhild, annoyed now, gave him another shove. “Could I sit the other side of you?” he asked plaintively. “Then my bruises would match.”
Cwenhild gave a sigh of defeat. “It’s just that… when Qudra kisses you…” She dried.
“The earth moves,” Dan muttered. Both were pink faced, Cwenhild earnestly studying her hot chocolate, Dan looking at Ginny in mute embarrassment.
“Ah,” said Ginny, as she understood.
They both looked at her in amazement. “Have you…?” began Dan, then trailed off.
“No!” Ginny said crossly. “I haven’t! But that’s why she came to Beauxbatons. No! Not… not kissing, but because she causes earthquakes!”
They both nodded their understanding, apparently relieved.
“So is this all this is to you?” Ginny demanded. “A ride? No! I didn’t mean that! I hope I didn’t mean that…”
Dan shook his head quickly, looking horrified. “No!” said Cwenhild. “Of course not! We both… It’s not…” She came to an embarrassed halt.
“It’s not what?” asked Ginny, icily. Her coffee was getting cold, she realised. She took a warming sip.
“You want us to break up,” said Dan, sadly.
“Don’t make me the bad guy here!” spluttered Ginny. “Just talk to her, OK? Tell her she’s not ruining your relationship!”
The pair looked at each other and then back at Ginny. “You mean…” began Dan, carefully.
“We can keep going?” asked Cwenhild.
“Keep what going? I just said…”
“But if we tell her,” said Cwenhild. “And she doesn’t mind…”
“And we tell her we don’t mind…” put in Dan.
“We can keep seeing her?”
“Well… I suppose…” said Ginny, uncertainly.
Cwenhild and Dan stood suddenly. “We’ll go and tell her,” said Cwenhild, breathlessly.
“Right now,” said Dan.
“Wait!” said Ginny, urgently. “Tell her what, exactly? Look, she’s…”
But the pair of them had already left.
“Don’t you want your…? Oh, never mind,” said Ginny. Cliny did an excellent hot chocolate, and Cwenhild hadn’t even touched hers.
About an hour later, when Ginny was back in her office, the ground shook, lengthily, but she told herself it was none of her business. And the next time she saw Qudra for a lesson she was glowing with happiness.
Even if Concetta hadn’t been there, it would have been hard to quiz Qudra on the details, she decided. She managed to quell her sense of guilt, too. True, the three of them were only thirteen, but she’d been kissing Viktor Krum at that age, so she wasn’t able to stand in a white robe, exactly.
Ginny naturally assumed as soon as Durmstrang had its own space that the friction between the schools would die down – which it did. But apart from the Quidditch fans, who were only a minority, the Beauxbatons seemed strangely down in the mouth and grumpy.
Professor Desprez put her finger on the problem. “It must be harder to explain an absence now,” she suggested. “Before, with everyone mixed, it was easy to be lost in a crowd and visit your second loved one without your Beauxbatons partner ever realising. But now they have to be much more inventive.”
“Do you propose teaching them new dating strategies?” inquired Mr Cotte. “In addition to Transfiguration?”
Madame Desprez shook her head, her lips quirking in amusement. “Certainly not,” she replied. “That is entirely a Humanities responsibility.”
“Perhaps you should teach them the Time Shifter, Headmistress,” suggested Mr Lesassier. “So they can better organise their affairs.”
“That’s all I need,” said Ginny, grumpily. “Another wit in the Beauxbatons staffroom.”
“I’ve had an idea,” said Ginny at breakfast one morning. “But we’ll need to hurry.”
“Should we all leave now?” asked Gosse, picking at the crumbs of his breakfast.
“Leave?” asked Ginny, puzzled. “Why leave?”
“Because your ideas are dangerous,” he replied. “Mostly.”
Ruby snorted in entertainment, so Ginny had to glare at both of them. She shook her head, annoyed. “This one isn’t dangerous. Well, not that dangerous.”
Undine snorted with amusement.
“Anyway,” continued Ginny, glaring at her now. “It’s not a new idea. Just that we ought to go ahead and hold the Triwizard competition. While all three schools are here, so everyone would be able to watch.”
“Isn’t this Magon’s idea?” Undine asked. “She sent you the Goblet.”
Ginny shook her head, impatiently. “Not really,” she said. “McGonagall only did that so she could talk to me without the British Ministry finding out. Anyway, whoever’s idea it is, I think we should do it.”
“Isn’t it a bit late?” put in Ruby. “Aren’t these things meant to be planned years in advance?”
“And it should be a task a term,” put in Gosse. “And we’re already halfway through the year.”
“If Undine can build two schools in a month,” said Ginny, “We can organise a competition in a term and a half. And so instead of a task a term, we have two tasks this term, and one at half-term next term, so it’s all over by the time the exams start.”
“You’ve got to select the candidates first,” said Undine.
“Yes, but I remember last time it was ages between the Goblet of Fire choosing people and the first task. I don’t see why we can’t go straight from choosing to having the first task.”
“Bit scary for them,” objected Ruby.
“Cancel the exams,” suggested Gosse. “Then we’d have plenty of time.”
“No!” said Ginny, not seeing the joke. “Anyway, the previous competitions probably took a long time to organise because everything was done by owl. With everyone on the same site, how long could it take?”
“But what about the tasks?” asked Undine. “Have you decided on those yet?”
“Not yet,” admitted Ginny. “Just that they need to be exciting, unique, wand-bitingly dangerous and totally safe.”
“Well, that should be easy,” said Ruby.
Ginny met with McGonagall and Sendulla for a working lunch in the Beauxbatons Dining Chamber.
“So, who should design the tasks?” asked Sendulla once Ginny had explained what she wanted to do. “Whoever it is should be independent of all three schools,” he pointed out.
“And ideally the competition should be organised by a committee of representatives from each country,” said McGonagall. “Again, independent of the schools, if at all possible.”
“Do you have any suggestions?” pressed Ginny. “Because we need to decide soon this time.” She resisted the temptation of glaring at Sendulla when she said this.
“Who would you ask for Beauxbatons?” asked McGonagall.
“I was thinking, Beatrix Holombec,” confessed Ginny. “She’s full of ideas.”
“That would be a little dangerous,” put in Sendulla. “She is impulsive, that one.”
“A little danger is what we’re looking for, isn’t it?” suggested McGonagall, dryly.
“Is she not too close to you?” enquired Sendulla of Ginny. “She is almost your mother-in-law.”
“I think Beatrix will be equally indiscreet with everyone,” said Ginny. “What about the British representative?” she asked McGonagall. “Presumably not someone in the Ministry, I imagine.”
“I imagine not,” McGonagall agreed drily. “I’d like to ask your brother, Ginny – George, I mean. I’m sure he’d have lots of ideas. But that would again be too close a connection. Perhaps Maurice Eeylops. Do you know him?”
“The Owl Emporium owner, you mean?” asked Ginny. “Not really. I mean, I’ve seen him, that’s all.”
“He has good contacts in the magical animal trade,” said McGonagall. “I’m assuming you’ll be looking for something to catch people’s attention there?”
Ginny nodded. “But not dragons. We had those last time.”
McGonagall turned to Sendulla. “Do you have a suggested Durmstrang judge?” she asked.
Sendulla screwed up his face and shook his head. “Ordinarily, yes. But it would be more tactful, I think, if the selection wasn’t made by a Frenchman.”
“But I’m not French,” argued Ginny. “And I’m deciding for Beauxbatons.”
“True,” said Sendulla. “Although some of my colleagues would consider you to be French.”
“They’d call me La Nue, you mean,” said Ginny, resignedly.
“Let me put it to my staff,” said Sendulla. “I will press them for a quick decision, I promise you.” And he was more cheerful than Ginny had seen him for quite a while. “So let us decide on how we choose candidates. We will have an age line again, yes? Seventeen or over?” McGonagall and Ginny looked at each other and nodded. “And only one Hogwarts representative, this time?”
Both McGonagall and Ginny protested at that. He merely waved them down, amused. “So, three candidates, older than sixteen. But many volunteers, I hope. And as much sparkle and thunder as possible.”