Stay - Mattheo Riddle

Chapter 125

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus —"

"The what?" said Jasper from beside Kirra, sounding revolted.

"Pus, Rowle, pus," said Professor Sprout, "and it's extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Kirra felt disgusted over the fact that they were meant to be wearing dragon-hide gloves and decided against it, even if she would have to face serious consequences, so she pulled out her faux leather gloves and slipped them on.

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

"This'll keep Madam Pomfrey happy," said Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork. "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

"Like poor Eloise Midgen," said Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, in a hushed voice. "She tried to curse hers off."

"Silly girl," said Professor Sprout, shaking her head. "But Madam Pomfrey fixed her nose back on in the end." A booming bell echoed from the castle across the wet grounds, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated down the sloping lawn toward Hagrid's small wooden cabin, which stood on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Hagrid was standing outside his hut, one hand on the collar of his enormous black boarhound, Fang. There were several open wooden crates on the ground at his feet, and Fang was whimpering and straining at his collar, apparently keen to investigate the contents more closely.

As they drew nearer, an odd rattling noise reached their ears, punctuated by what sounded like minor explosions. "Mornin'!" Hagrid said, grinning at the class. "you won' want ter miss this — Blast Ended Skrewts!"

"Come again?" said Jasper with a look of disgust on his face. Hagrid pointed down into the crates.

"Eurgh!" squealed Lavender Brown, jumping backward.

"Eurgh" just about summed up the Blast-Ended Skrewts in many peoples opinion, but Kirra Potter always seemed to find the beauty in all animals. Sure, they looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads; but Kirra saw the beauty in them. 

There were about a hundred of them in each crate, each about six inches long, crawling over one another, bumping blindly into the sides of the boxes. They were giving off a very powerful smell of rotting fish. 

Every now and then, sparks would fly out of the end of a skrewt, and with a small phut, it would be propelled forward several inches. "On'y jus' hatched," said Hagrid proudly, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"

"And why would we want to raise them?" said a cold voice. The rest of the Slytherins had arrived. The speaker was Mattheo Riddle. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were chuckling appreciatively at his words.

Hagrid looked stumped at the question. "Mattheo is right, I mean, what do they do?" asked Malfoy. "What is the point of them?" Hagrid opened his mouth, apparently thinking hard; there was a few seconds' pause, then he said roughly, "Tha's next lesson, Malfoy and Riddle. Yer jus' feedin' 'em today. Now, yeh'll wan' ter try 'em on a few diff'rent things — I've never had 'em before, not sure what they'll go fer — I got ant eggs an' frog livers an' a bit o' grass snake — just try 'em out with a bit of each."