The Cloud
The transformed Room of Requirement was breath-taking. It had been extraordinary enough as a full-sized Quidditch pitch, with stands for an entire school. But now it was a huge arena. Ginny was reminded of the one that held the Quidditch World Cup, all those years ago. But instead of grass, the stands surrounded a lake that lapped against them, mirroring the sky above.
The Quidditch arena had been open to those skies, but this one had a transparent domed roof, and beneath it a cloud. It was a gleaming white in the sunlight, yet seemed strange and oppressive as it hung there.
Every box in the arena was crammed with students from the three schools, and they were chanting and waving banners. Halfway down one side was a scoreboard. At the moment this read Beauxbatons – Jehanne Blavier – 0, Durmstrang – Chloe Langenberg – 0, Hogwarts – Caroline Moore-Hexh– 0. Ginny had pointed out the absence to the judges, but had received only worried looks and shrugs in return.
In the top box of the arena, next to Ginny, was Maurice Eeylops, who had created this challenge. On his other side was Henri Sendulla, who was there to translate Eeylops’s words into German, while Ginny handled the French translation. The box to their left was crammed with special guests – the champions’ parents and representatives from various countries’ Magical Ministries.
There were no British Ministry delegates there, which annoyed Ginny. Professor McGonagall was unworried. “They’re wise to keep their heads down, Ginny,” she said, soothingly. “Nobody wants to annoy Umbridge.”
The box to the right of the top box was crammed with noisy Hogwarts supporters, which made it difficult to talk, or even think. Ginny used her wand to make a sound like a cannon, and in the sudden silence she readied herself to translate.
Fortunately, Eeylops was a man of few words. “Is everyone watching?” he called. He had his wand in his hand, and pointed it downwards. He muttered a spell, and a silvery line hit the surface of the water.
“Fisherman’s spell,” he said, briefly. As they watched the surface of the water changed, from placid blue, to disturbed, to silver. The centre of the lake was full of fish now, their silver bodies threshing in the water.
“Fish?” called someone in the next box along, in a puzzled tone. “They’ve got to go fishing?”
Ginny turned to glance at the speaker, amused, and in that fraction of a second there was an ear-splitting bang. Ginny dragged her eyes back to the arena in time to see a second lightning bolt hitting the middle of the lake.
Already fish were unmoving on the surface, more white than silver now. She looked up: The cloud was dark grey, almost black, and it spat another lightning bolt, roiling angrily as it did so.
A shape dropped unexpectedly from the cloud. It was man-sized, and Ginny could hear gasps of horror all around her. The shape was spreading its wings.
Ginny could hear shouts from around the arena. “Dragon!” “It’s a dragon!” “No, it’s a…”
The shape arrowed down to the surface of the water, and landed, and now they could see it was a huge bird. It folded its huge wings, and its beak was diving into the water around it, gobbling mouthfuls of fish.
“Cloud Albatross,” said Eeylops calmly. “Ten foot wingspan. Like other albatrosses, this one spends almost its entire life aloft, except when it comes down to feed, and nest.”
The albatross disappeared briefly below the surface, but when it reappeared it continued to harvest the fish around it.
“Have they got to grab its eggs, then?” said someone in the adjacent box. The voice belonged to Stewart Ackerly, and Ginny could see Eleanor next to him, gazing down at the feeding bird with wide eyes.
Eeylops heard him. “Eggs?” he echoed in amusement. “Too easy, and it’s too easy to harm the eggs. Cloud Albatross are an endangered species, and points will be removed for any harm whatever to the bird. Not that the bird can’t look after itself, as you’ll see. No, the champions just need to harvest the albatross’s tears.”
The murmurs around the arena were suddenly silenced. “How are they supposed to do that?” Ackerly asked in shock, speaking for everyone now.
“Each champion has a small bottle,” said Eeylops, blandly. “And their wands, of course. And broomsticks.”
Ginny was hurrying to translate question and answer, and she could hear Sendulla doing the same.
“Those wings are large, and strong.” Eeylops was saying. “Anyone here seen a swan break a man’s arm? Well, these birds are easily twice the size of swans.”
A thousand voices, it seemed, had an opinion on that.
“But in case that sounds too easy,” Eeylops continued when the buzz quietened. “The Cloud Albatross is a weather mage. And it’s not just about dodging lightning bolts.”
The albatross was spreading its wings, flapping them mightily, leaving the surface of the lake, and then with slow powerful flaps of those wings headed upwards, until it disappeared inside the cloud. The cloud was white once more, yet seemed ominous now.
“A Cloud Albatross has been known to produce snow, but that’s unusual. Lightning, of course, is used to help them feed, but they’re very defensive birds, and like to use rain and gales to deter their enemies. But they’re fast, as well. An adult Cloud Albatross like this one can reach eighty miles an hour. A formidable opponent.”
“Aren’t the champions an endangered species now?” called someone, speaking English with a French accent.
Eeylops ignored the question. “So why harvest the tears?” he asked rhetorically. “Because Cloud Albatross tears are a key ingredient in Felix Felicis – also known as Liquid Luck! And the more tears each champion collects, the more luck they can use in the next challenge!”
The arena was alive once more with chattering voices.
“So what do the champions have to help them?” asked Eeylops. “They’ve been taught the fisherman spell. And Cloud Albatross have one particular weakness – sardines! They adore sardines! Each candidate has a pocketful of sardines…”
“Eeuw!” cried several voices around the arena.
“… of sardines, to distract the Cloud Albatross. And finally to help them, the cheers of their school! Let’s hear a cheer!”
The cheers were unsure at first, but then they were competing with each other, school against school. “Hogwarts! Hogwarts!” “Durmstrang!” “Beauxbatons! “Beauxbatons!” “Durmstrang!”
“Now let’s welcome our champions! Caroline Moore-Hexham for Hogwarts! Chloe Langenberg for Durmstrang! And Jehanne Blavier for Beauxbatons!”
All at the same time? Henri Sendulla had asked in horror when Eeylops had suggested this. It’ll be a bloodbath!
Not necessarily, Eeylops had answered. The albatross won’t know who to concentrate on. It’ll be easier this way. And more shazam! Although Ginny wasn’t sure what shazam was.
The schools were loudly cheering their champions. The three champions looked small on the little platform that jutted out from the arena side. Ginny knew it wasn’t a physical battle between the three of them, but the fact that Jehanne Blavier was a head shorter than the other two champions gave her a spurt of worry. Maybe she’ll be more manoeuvrable...
“Champions, are you ready?” called Eeylops. Each champion raised an arm. From here Ginny couldn’t see how worried they must be. “Mount your brooms…. Kettle-a-fish!” A bolt of silver leapt from Eeylops’s wand and hit the lake below.
Ginny was pleased to see Jehanne immediately speed into the air, leaving her two competitors behind, but when two lightning bolts in a row just missed her, the tardiness of the other two seemed wiser. They were only just taking off when the Cloud Albatross dropped out of the cloud once more.
Jehanne was having to use her wand to douse the flames the lightning had lit on her broom twigs, and Chloe and Caroline were at the lake surface now, jockeying with each other to buzz the Cloud Albatross, their collection flasks flashing in the sun.
It looked like Chloe was going to be the first to score, but the albatross ducked its head to harvest some fish just as she flew past. Here came Moore-Hexham, with wand outstretched, skimming past the bird, and then she was tapping her wand on the lip of her little flask.
“Moore-Hexham!” Eeylops was shouting. “The Hogwarts champion has won some tears! And here comes Blavier…”
The albatross’s wings were spread now; It was either sated with fish or annoyed at being buzzed. Despite this, Jehanne dodged the snapping beak, the end of her wand was glistening, and the Beauxbatons audience were cheering.
Caroline was pursuing the bird as it rose into the air. The great wings of the albatross made this difficult, but by flying in the same direction as the bird, and above it, she could just reach the bird’s head.
The bird squawked with anger, and without warning a dark funnel came out of nowhere. It stretched from near the surface of the water up to the cloud, which had become a spiral. Moore-Hexham was sent tumbling, and the other two contestants had to escape the tornado.
Now all three were spiralling around the albatross as it struggled to reach the cloud. But the air above them was suddenly grey, and they were fleeing a deluge of rain – no, not rain, hail – and they were trying to shield themselves, either with their arms or with Impervius spells
The bird had escaped now, but to Ginny’s horror Jehanne disappeared into the cloud after it. Two more lightning bolts erupted from the cloud, and one hit Chloe Langenberg, and she was off her broom, and falling. Without thought Ginny raised her wand and sent a spell to slow her descent.
To the amazement of all, Chloe was twisting in the air and lunging. She caught her broom as it fell beside her. She managed to mount her broom only feet above the water, and her feet drew lines across the surface before she could aim her broom upwards.
Here came the albatross again, dropping out of the cloud towards the lake. Ginny could see now there were more dead fish in the water, and the bird was more intent on those than keeping away from its tormentors. Langenberg and Moore-Hexham were caught unawares by this, and were having to speed downwards again.
Jehanne Blavier’s wand was reaching out to the bird’s head, and there was a cheer – the crowd at least had decided she had caught some more albatross tears – but at the same instant the bird’s wings came up, its head turned angrily, and Jehanne was spinning through the air, landing in the lake with a splash, carving a furrow in the surface.
Before Ginny could decide what to do, Jehanne’s body was reappearing, but limp, and flying towards them. Ginny looked around hurriedly and realised that Mrs Cotte, the Beauxbatons Infirmarian, had Summoned the girl. Jehanne landed in a heap in front of her, and Mrs Cotte was on her knees, tending to her.
“Broken arm,” Mrs Cotte called over her shoulder. But Jehanne was stirring, her other arm was moving, reaching across to the opposite pocket, dragging out the little flask that held the albatross tears. She held it up, wordlessly, and Maurice Eeylops hurried across to take it from her.
“Good!” he said, examining it. “Good! A good harvest here! This should make the next challenge easy for you!”
Jehanne‘s face was white with pain, but she managed to smile one-sidedly all the same.
Chloe was shoulder to shoulder with Caroline now, both of them trying to push the other out of the way. But in their battle with each other they took their eye off the albatross, and without warning the bird’s head was darting round and attacking Caroline, who managed to escape the bird’s wingtip by a whisker.
The albatross was angry now, and tried to attack Moore-Hexham and Langenberg whenever they tried to approach. Chloe was reaching in her pocket and tossing a handful of sardines past the bird’s beak, and as Eeylops had promised the bird was more interested in that than keeping away nuisances.
Chloe rolled elegantly around its head and harvested more tears from the feasting bird, even though she was upside down on her broom. Then she barrel-rolled and was holding up her wand in triumph, and tapping her wand on her flask to transfer the tears. Her face and hands were blackened, but Ginny realised this was from the girl’s cloak, which was badly burned and holed – it was more black than silver grey now, and more hole than fabric – but the girl herself seemed unharmed.
This manoeuvre had distracted the bird, so that Moore-Hexham could swoop close to the bird’s head, dump more sardines into the water and she was almost undisturbed as she collected more tears.
The albatross’s wings were out now, and it was rising into the air. But it wasn’t fleeing, and it was turning towards Caroline, who was still hovering nearby. Before the girl could dodge, the albatross’s claws were in her back, and she was yelling, with pain or fright. The bird’s wings were beating angrily.
Here came Chloe, arrowing towards them, distracting the bird. It screwed its head round and tried to attack Chloe, who dodged, but Caroline was free now, and flying erratically out of reach.
To the amazement of all, there was a third figure dodging past the albatross: Jehanne Blavier, on her broom, one arm strapped across her. She nearly collided with Chloe, but the bird broke away from the pair of them, intent on Caroline, who was spiralling slowly downwards.
Here was Jehanne, on the bird’s other side. But the bird was quicker than any of them, and was suddenly zigzagging upwards. The albatross reached the cloud, and without warning the three contestants were spiralling out of control: A dark cone appeared below the cloud, and then it was tightening, narrowing, churning up the lake below, and the three contestants crashed into the arena wall as the tornado screamed and tore at everyone’s clothing.
And then all was still. Everyone’s eyes were looking down: Two figures could be seen, their arms over the barriers to stop them falling, struggling to climb into one of the boxes, aided by arms reaching out to them. Ginny recognised Caroline and Chloe, and her heart was in her mouth, trying to spot Jehanne.
There! In the water was a head. Ginny’s fingers were itching for her broom, to fly down there and rescue Jehanne, but once more Mrs Cotte was ahead of her, and for the second time the girl was flying through the air and landing in a wet heap on the top box floor.
Ginny hurried forward to help her to her feet. Jehanne still had her broom in the hand of her unbroken arm. Her eyes were flashing merrily, and she was grinning with pleasure.
“I said, time’s up!” Eeylops was shouting. “Champions, please bring your flasks here for measuring!”
Beatrix Holombec and Benjamin Sandberg were standing next to a strange device that Ginny realised was a set of delicate scales. Caroline and Chloe flew across the arena and landed next to Jehanne, all looking battered and stunned, but each produced their little vials of albatross tears, which were carefully measured in turn.
Here was Madam Pomphrey, angry and spluttering. “Albatrosses, indeed!” she was saying. “Of all the ridiculous ideas!” She took Moore-Hexham by the arm and led her to the corner of the arena box and carefully peeled off her cloak. Caroline cried out in pain, and there were tears in her eyes. Ginny could see the back of her shirt was torn and bloody.
“And that’s enough busybodies!” snapped Madam Pomphrey. She flicked her wand and a grey screen enclosed the pair of them while she tended to Caroline. Ginny turned away guiltily.
Jehanne brushed off Madame Cotte’s attempts to examine her for other injuries and was animatedly swapping stories with Chloe, who stood stolidly while the Durmstrang infirmarian – a young man not much older than Chloe – fussed around her.
“Here are the scores,” Maurice Eeylops called out eventually, after consulting with his fellow judges. “Firstly, the points for the tears: Jehanne Blavier, for Beauxbatons, forty points!”
There was a huge roar from the Beauxbatons supporters.
“Chloe Langenberg, for Durmstrang, forty-five points!”
A louder roar. Ginny could just make out the blocky figure of Sandrin Krum, dancing and waving his arms, all objection to a female Durmstrang champion apparently forgotten.
“Caroline Moore-Hexham, for Hogwarts, sixty points!”
Screams and cheers from the Hogwarts supporters. Ginny could see the capering and hand-waving in the box next to them.
Eeylops was waving his arms for quiet.
“Those points represent how much Felix Felicis potion each champion will have in the second challenge,” he reminded them. “And now for the second scores, for bravery and resourcefulness. These translate into minutes, the time each champion will have for the second challenge. Caroline Moore-Hexham, for Hogwarts, fifty minutes!”
Another cheer from the Hogwarts boxes.
“Chloe Langenberg, for Durmstrang, seventy minutes!”
The Durmstrang audience erupted once more.
“And Jehanne Blavier, for Beauxbatons, seventy-five minutes!”
Screams and cheers and waving arms from the Beauxbatons.
“Congratulations for all our champions!” shouted Eeylops over the noise. Ginny’s throat was sore with trying to compete with the noise for her translations, but now she had to strain it even more for the finish of the challenge.
“Well done champions!” Ginny called out. “You will be given the amount of Felix Felicis that’s been made for you, based on what you collected, just before the next task, which will take place just before the end of term, on 3rdApril! Thanks to everyone, particularly our judges, especially Maurice Eeylops for designing this challenge, and perhaps most of all Mrs Cotte, Madam Pomphrey and Mr Ziemann for mending all three champions, and a big cheer for Jehanne, Caroline and Chloe!”
The cheer from over a thousand throats was deafening.
The crowds were filing out of the arena now, chatting with animation. Ginny could see Maurice Eeylops coming towards her, grinning with pleasure. He seemed literally buoyant in his delight with the success of the challenge, and his shoes barely touched the ground.
“Well, how was that then?” he said when he reached her.
“It was great, Maurice,” said Ginny, warmly. “I hope it hasn’t given you too much work.”
Maurice shook his head and threw out his arms in joy, nearly taking out Mrs Cotte, who was passing. “It was nothing! It was a pleasure!” he exclaimed.
“And you don’t mind about all the Felix Felicis you’ve got to make now?” She could remember Professor Slughorn expounding on how tricky a potion it was to brew.
He looked at her in amazement. “I thought you used to teach Potions?”
“Well, yes…” Ginny said, embarrassed. “But I was a bit busy…”
His expression cleared. “Ah. I get it. So how many potions did you actually make? Yourself, I mean?”
“Well, not many…” admitted Ginny.
He nodded with satisfaction. “Wise,” he said. “Well, I’ll tell you a secret anyway,” he said in her ear, loudly.
She winced. “What secret?”
“All that stuff the potion books tell you about making Felix Felicis? The ultra-complicated recipe? Well, it’s all rubbish!” said Eeylops, happily.
“What? How can it be? You mean, it doesn’t exist?”
“No! It exists, all right. But Felix is a bit of a problem potion!” he boomed. “You put luck into things, everything goes screwball. So the potion makers try to make out how it’s really tricky to make. Put people off, see.”
“And it’s not?” she tried to whisper.
He shook his head. “They just have to bottle it,” he carolled, joyfully. “Literally.”
“You mean, it’s just Albatross tears?”
“Yep. But you didn’t hear it from me, OK? You worked it out yourself. If anyone asks. But don’t spread it around. You let Felix Felicis out, everything goes weird.”
“So what about the potion in all the books?”
“It’s a rather good antacid,” confided Eeylops. “Perfect after Christmas. But I generally buy a Muggle one instead. Much easier.”
He winked, elbowed her bruisingly in the ribs and skipped away, revealing a frozen figure, one she recognised. It was Concetta Agri, her face frozen in shock, her normal tanned features pale. She must have been standing right behind Eeylops – and have heard every word he’d shouted.
“Concetta, what are you doing here…?” Ginny began, but paused, unsure what to say next. That’s a stupid question, she told herself. Luck is luck, and perhaps she needed to hear Eeylops’s words.
“I understand now,” said Concetta, in wonder.
“Understand what?” asked Ginny, nervously.
“My life,” said Concetta. “My parents’ life.” She turned and stared upwards across the arena, where the cloud still floated.
Concetta was a lot taller now. Ginny found it intriguing the way that pupils grew in rapid spurts, suddenly shooting upwards without warning. Because she only saw them at intervals, she had the overwhelming impression that they were growing visibly in front of her eyes, like a speeded-up photograph. Ginny could still remember the pretty little dark-haired girl she’d first met, yet now she was a willowy young woman, much taller than the more compact Qudra, and Ginny too.
“What do you mean?”
“My father wasn’t always rich,” Concetta said eventually. “And underneath the gambling, and the anger, he is a good person. I believe that. And so is Maman, even though I hardly see her.”
Ginny was confused now. “I thought…”
“No, my mother is alive. But she does not like to see my father, so she only visits when he is not there. And when she is not busy, of course. But once she told me a story once that I always remember. She does not say much about the past, but this she told me.”
Concetta’s mother was a performer, Concetta said. She had a balancing act. “Not in a circus,” Concetta added. “She doesn’t like circuses. But in clubs at first, mostly. And parties, weddings, things like that. And she spent a whole year at sea. On a cruise ship.”
“What’s that?” asked Ginny.
“Oh, it’s a very big boat where Muggles go on holiday. They sail from place to place, and sometimes see things, but mostly they are on the ship, and they have to be entertained. And Maman was one of the entertainers.”
“Were you there too?” Ginny asked.
“No! This was before me. So, every night, she performed. A different act for every night of the week, but that means a lot of practice while the holidaymakers ate and sunbathed. But one night during a performance she fell.”
“Fell?”
“Oh, it was not dangerous. A few bruises. But the compere, he was angry, he told her she would lose her job. She felt terrible. Everyone was staring at her, she said. So she left the theatre, and went outside. On the top of the boat. It was very still, she said. She remembers that. And she was upset, and angry too. The ship had a tall mast, that reached up into the sky. And she could see a ladder, running up the side of the mast.
“She decided she had to go up the mast. She was not meant to do that, of course, but she was skilled at climbing, to get to the top of the ship. And then she climbed the mast. She was above everything, and alone. The earth below was dragging at her, and she was afraid, even though she was skilled. And then it happened.”
“Happened? What happened?”
“It was night, and clear, and the moon was there, so she could see, but suddenly it was dark, and it was raining. Just a light rain, a kind of mist. And then something huge hit the mast. It was a bird. An enormous bird. It was confused, of course. It flew around her, flapping those huge wings, and she was very frightened. She thought it would attack her, or brush her off the mast to her death. Then it landed nearby, on a piece of wood that crossed the mast. I forget the name for that.”
“No idea,” said Ginny.
“Maman said the bird was as tall as her, and that it was crying. I always thought she was imagining too much, that - if it happened at all - it was a small bird, and birds don’t cry. But then today I learn that it could have happened, exactly as she said. But the next part… Maman said she stopped being frightened, and felt sorry for the crying bird. So she climbed over the rail of the little platform she was on… Oh! I always feel terrible, even my feet hurt when I think about her doing this – and she walked along the piece of wood to the bird, with nothing below her. And she reached out and touched the bird’s face, where it was crying. And then she fell.”
“What? Oh no!”
“She fell. This is where my father came into the story. He worked on the boat too, but he was not a performer. He worked as a cleaner, but not a very good one, I think. He was meant to clean the awnings…”
“What’s that?”
Concetta gestured. “Big pieces of canvas, that shade the holidaymakers from the sun. Early every morning he had to put the awnings up, and every night he had to take them down, and clean them, but he didn’t. Instead he was sitting on one of the chairs. Smoking, probably. He smokes too much… Anyway, he was sitting there when Maman fell, and she landed on the awning. If he had being doing his job properly, Maman would have been killed, but she was very lucky.
“She couldn’t breathe at first, and he helped her down. She never told him about the bird, she says, just that she fell because she wanted to see if she could climb the mast. But he had big strong arms, she said, and he held her, and they kissed. And because of that I was born.”
Concetta stirred and looked at Ginny. “I am not a child. I know they did more than kiss, up there on the top of the ship. And they were together for several years. Maman had to keep working, because she earned the money that my father couldn’t be bothered to work for, so he looked after me. And Maman had become very successful. Her act was amazing. She defied death, they said, and now I think I understand how.
“She travelled all over the world, while we stayed at home, in Italy, because Papa is Italian, even though Maman is French. She was in America – this was the other story she told me, that she was proud of, and ashamed of at the same time – in Los Angeles, she said, and the rain came once more. It was just rain, I think, but Maman is a romantic. She saw a taxi on the other side of the street, and she ran across the road, through the traffic, and instead of being squashed she climbed into the taxi at the same time as someone climbed in the other side. And he is a world-famous actor, and they are together still.”
Ginny couldn’t think of anything to say to that. “That’s amazing,” she said eventually.
“He was very angry, my father. Maman kept sending him cheques, but he tore them up. He would pay for everything, he said, but he was rubbish at that. I would only see Maman every year or so, when she came to see me. She would give me money, in cash, which helped for a while. Then Papa started gambling, and we ran out of food, we had to leave the nice flat, and live in a terrible room, and he was angry all the time. He said the horse owners were crooks, who stole his money. And the boxers, and the greyhound owners, everybody. I was very afraid then. Terrified. All the time. Then somehow he wasn’t losing any more, but I was still afraid of him. And then you came.”
Concetta sighed. “And it is all true. Maman was telling the truth. And now I know how I came to be lucky. But I also know that you cannot live on luck.”