For the rest of the week's Potions lessons, Harry continued to follow the Half-Blood Prince's instructions wherever they deviated from Libatius Borage's, with the result that by their fourth lesson Slughorn was raving about Harry's abilities, saying that he had rarely taught anyone so talented. Neither Ron nor Hermione were delighted as Ron couldn't understand the handwriting while Hermione followed the 'official' instructions. Rigel didn't even bother having zero interest since he was a compatible brewer while Eliza actually had some sort of competition in her favorite subject.
"The Half-Blood Prince, he was called," Harry said. "How many girls have been princes?"
Hermione seemed to have no answer to this. She merely scowled and twitched her essay away from Ron, who was trying to read it upside down.
Rigel looked at his watch, "Seven fifty-five, aren't you two suppose to be at Dumbledore's office?" he asked Harry, who then looked at his own watch and hurried put the old copy of the Prince's potion book into his bag.
"Ooooh!" gasped Hermione, looking up at once. "Good luck!We'll wait up, we want to hear what he teaches you!"
"Hope it goes okay," said Ron, and the trio watched Harry and Eliza leave through the portrait hole.
"So you're saying that Voldemort's grandfather was in fact a pure-blood mad fanatic who attacked a ministry employee along with his uncle," Rigel said.
"Yes, Rigel." Eliza sai rolling her eyes. "You just wrapped up the entire Pensieve in one sentence."
Rigel shrugged. "Thank God I'm not related to those lot."
Sixth-year work piled up. Rigel's homework and the need to constantly practice nonverbal spells, demanded by most of the classes now because of the N.E.W.T. exams, along with practicing how to use a sword (The battle of the department of Mysteries showed how undertrained he was) and prefect duties. It was an insane routine. And of course with his friend's enormous workload made all of them have no time of coming to see Hagrid since he had stopped coming to meals after Rigel's period with the half-giant when he tried to explain to him why the trio stopped attending his class, on a few occasions when they had passed him in the corridors or out in the ground, he had mysteriously failed to notched them or hear their greetings. So it seemed that Rigel had failed miserably.
"I'm sorry guys," he said. "I wish there's more I could do."
"It wasn't your fault Rigel, you did your best," Hermione said, looking up at the huge empty chair at the staff table the following Saturday at breakfast. "We've got to go and explain."
"We've got Quidditch tryouts this morning!" said Ron. "And we're supposed to be practicing that Aguamenti Charm from Flitwick! Anyway, explain what? How are we going to tell him we hated his stupid subject?"
"We didn't hate it!" said Hermione.
"Speak for yourself, I haven't forgotten the Skrewts," said Ron darkly. "And I'm telling you now, we've had a narrow escape. You didn't hear him going on about his gormless brother - we'd have been teaching Grawp how to tie his shoelaces if we'd stayed."
"So what Ron?" Eliza retorted. "Let the giant learn how to act like a human."
"I hate not talking to Hagrid," said Hermione, looking miserable.
"We'll go down after Quidditch," Harry assured her. "But trials might take all morning, the number of people who have applied. I dunno why the team's this popular all of a sudden."
"Well, we did win last year, right?" Rigel said, swallowing the meat.
"That's not the only reason," Hermione said. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you and Eliza! you two have never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."
"Yea, that seemed more plausible," Rigel agreed.
"Everyone knows you two have been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you two really have fought him in the graveyard. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One'-well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"
"Yea, that seemed more plausible," Rigel agreed.
"Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding world has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One'-well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"
Harry stiffed.
"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway..."
"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," Hermione finished.
"What about Eliza? She was there with me when Voldemort returned." Harry retorted.
Eliza snorted. "I already got four boys asking me for a Hogsmeade date. You are not killing them Rigel!" she added when Rigel suddenly took out his wand. "And besides I already have a reputation -courtesy of Rita Skeeter- but you don't so many would take an interest in you than me."
The post owls arrived, swooping down through rain-flecked windows, scattering everyone with droplets of water. Most people were receiving more posts than usual; anxious parents were keen to hear from their children and to reassure them, in turn, that all was well at home. With a pang, Rigel realized that this year, he won't receive a letter from his dad. Sure Andromeda's picked his mood up but it didn't do much. Though Hedwig, Harry's owl circled among all the brown and gray owls before landing in front of Harry carrying a large, square package. A moment later, an identical package landed in front of Ron, crushing beneath it his minuscule and exhausted owl, Pigwidgeon.
"Ha!" said Harry, unwrapping the parcel to reveal a copy of Advance Potion-Making, fresh from Flourish and Blotts.
"Oh good," said Hermione, delighted. "Now you can give that graffitied copy back."
"Are you mad?" said Harry. "I'm keeping it! Look, I've thought it out -"
He pulled the old copy of Advanced Potion-Making out of his bag and tapped the cover with his wand, muttering, "Diffindo!" The cover fell off. He did the same thing with the brand-new book (Hermione looked scandalized). He then swapped the covers, tapped each, and said, "Reparo!"
There sat the Prince's copy, disguised as a new book, and there sat the fresh copy from Flourish and Blotts, looking thoroughly second-hand.
"I'll give Slughorn back the new one, he can't complain, it cost nine Galleons."
"I don't know whether to be proud of you or disappointed." Eliza shook her head. "So I'll be proud."
Hermione pressed her lips together, looking angry and disapproving, but was distracted by a third owl landing in front of her carrying that day's copy of the Daily Prophet. She unfolded it hastily and scanned the front page.
"Anyone we know dead?" asked Ron in a determinedly casual voice.
"No, but there have been more dementor attacks," said Hermione. "And an arrest."
"Excellent, who?" said Harry, thinking of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Stan Shunpike," said Hermione.
"What?" said Eliza, startled.
"Isn't he the conductor on the knight bus?" Rigel asked.
"Yes, 'Stanley Shunpike, conductor on the popular Wizarding conveyance the Knight Bus, has been arrested on suspicion of Death Eater activity. Mr. Shunpike, 21, was taken into custody late last night after a raid on his Clapham home...'"
"Stan Shunpike, a Death Eater?" said Harry, stunned. "No way!"
"He might have been put under the Imperius Curse," said Ron reasonably. "You never can tell."
"It doesn't look like it," said Hermione, who was still reading. "It says here he was arrested after he was overheard talking about the Death Eaters' secret plans in a pub." She looked up with a troubled expression on her face. "If he was under the Imperius Curse, he'd hardly stand around gossiping about their plans, would he?"
"It sounds like he was trying to make out he knew more than he did," said Ron. "Isn't he the one who claimed he was going to become Minister of Magic when he was trying to chat up those Veela?"
"Yeah, that's him," said Harry. "I dunno what they're playing at, taking Stan seriously."
"They probably want to look as though they're doing something," Eliza said. "People are terrified-you know the Patil twins' parents want them to go home? And Eloise Midgen has already been withdrawn. Her father picked her up last night."
"What!" said Ron, goggling at Hermione. "But Hogwarts is safer than their homes, bound to be! We've got Aurors and all those extra protective spells, and we've got Dumbledore!"
"But they have the right to be scared Ron," Rigel, taking his eyes away from the table afar. "Not everyone is Dumbledore or have Aurors standing around protecting them."
"And I don't think we've got him all the time," said Hermione very quietly, glancing toward the staff table over the top of the Prophet. "Haven't you noticed? His seat's been empty as often as Hagrid's this past week."
The five of them looked up at the staff table. The Headmaster's chair was indeed empty.
"I think he's left the school to do something with the Order," said Hermione in a low voice. "I mean... it's all looking serious, isn't it?"
The four of them did not answer, but Rigel was sure they were all thinking the same thing. There had been a horrible incident the day before when Hannah Abbott had been taken out of Herbology to be told her mother had been found dead. They had not seen Hannah since.
When they left the Gryffindor table five minutes later to head down to the Quidditch pitch, they passed Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil. Remembering what Hermione had said about the Patil twins' parents wanting them to leave Hogwarts, but still, they were here, whispering together, looking distressed. What did surprise him was that when Ron drew level with them, Parvati suddenly nudged Lavender, who looked around and gave Ron a wide smile. Ron blinked at her, then returned the smile uncertainly. His walk instantly became something more like a strut. Harry resisted the temptation to laugh, but Rigel and Eliza could not, and let out a few chuckles. Hermione, however, looked cold and distant all the way down to the stadium through thecool, misty drizzle, and departed to find a place in the stands without wishing Ron good luck.
Half of Gryffindor House seemed to have turned up, from first-years who were nervously clutching a selection of the dreadful old school brooms to seventh years who towered over the rest, looking coolly intimidating. And of course, there was that show-off, Cormac Mclaggen.
"We met on the train, in old Sluggy's compartment," he said confidently, stepping out of the crowd to shake Harry's hand. "Cormac McLaggen, Keeper."
"You didn't try out last year, did you?" asked Harry.
"I was in the hospital wing when they held the trials," said McLaggen, with something of a swagger. "Ate a pound of Doxy eggs for a bet."
"Right," said Harry. "Well... if you wait over there ..."
He pointed over to the edge of the pitch, close to where Hermione was sitting.
Harry decided to start with a basic test, asking all applicants for the team to divide into groups of ten and fly once around the pitch. This was a good decision: the first ten was made up of first years, and it could not have been plainer that they had hardly ever flown before. Only one boy managed to remain airborne for more than a few seconds, and he was so surprised he promptly crashed into one of the goalposts.
The second group was comprised of ten of the silliest girls Rigel, who, when Harry blew his whistle, merely fell about giggling and clutching one another. When he told them to leave the pitch, they did so quite cheerfully and went to sit in the stands to heckle everyone else.
The third group had a pile-up halfway around the pitch. Most of the fourth group had come without broomsticks. The fifth group was Hufflepuffs.
"If there's anyone else here who's not from Gryffindor," roared Harry, who was starting to get seriously annoyed, "leave now, please!"
There was a pause, then a couple of little Ravenclaws went sprinting off the pitch, snorting with laughter.
After two hours, many complaints, and several tantrums, one involving a crashed Comet Two Sixty and several broken teeth, Harry had found himself three Chasers: Eliza and Rigel who, returned to the team after an excellent trial; and Ginny Weasley, who had outflown all the competition and scored seventeen goals to boot. Harry had also shouted himself hoarse at the many complainers and was now enduring a similar battle with the rejected Beaters.
"That's my final decision and if you don't get out of the way of the Keepers I'll hex you," he bellowed.
Neither of his chosen Beaters had the old brilliance of Fred and George. Jimmy Peakes, a short but broad-chested third-year boy who had managed to raise a lump the size of an egg on the back of Harry's head with a ferociously hit Bludger, and Ritchie Coote, who looked weedy but aimed well. They now joined Eliza, Rigel, and Ginny in the stands to watch the selection of their last team member.
Harry left the trail of the Keepers last, and Rigel knew exactly what Harry was thinking, as he himself was hoping for an emptier stadium and less pressure on all concerned. Unfortunately, however, all the rejected players and a number of people who had come down to watch after a lengthy breakfast had joined the crowd by now, so that it was larger than ever. As each Keeper flew up to the goal hoops, the crowd roared and jeered in equal measure. He glances over to Ron, who always had a problem with nerves.
None of the first five applicants saved more than two goals apiece. To Harry's great disappointment, Cormac McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. On the last one, however, he shot off in completely the wrong direction; the crowd laughed and booed and McLaggen returned to the ground grinding his teeth. Percy hid his wand away well in his robes.
"Good luck!" cried a voice from the stand. As Rigel turned around, it was the cry from Lavender Brown. Rigel shook his head, and focus on Ron's trial.
Ron saved one, two, three, four, five penalties in a row. Delighted, and resisting joining in the cheers of the crowd with difficulty. McLaggen's red face was inches from Harry, only to step back hastily.
"His sister didn't really try," said McLaggen menacingly. There was a vein pulsing in his temple like the one Harry had often admired in Uncle Vernon's. "She gave him an easy save."
"Rubbish," said Harry coldly. "That was the one he nearly missed."
McLaggen took a step nearer Harry, who stood his ground this time.
"Give me another go."
"No," said Harry. "You've had your go. You saved four. Ron saved five. Ron's Keeper, he won it fair and square. Get out of my way."
Rigel thought for one moment McLaggen might punch Harry, but he contented himself with an ugly grimace and stormed away, growling what sounded like threats to thin air.
"You did brilliantly mate," Rigel said, as Hermione ran toward the stands. There was also Lavender arm in arm with Parvati, standing from afar, looking at Ron, who looked extremely pleased with himself and even taller than usual as he grinned at the team.
After fixing the time of their first full practice for the following Thursday, Harry, Ron, Rigel, Eliza, and Hermione bade goodbye to the rest of the team and headed off toward Hagrid's. A watery sun was trying to break through the clouds now and it had stopped drizzling at last.
"I thought I was going to miss that fourth penalty," Ron was saying happily. "Tricky shot from Demelza, did you see, had a bit of spin on it-"
"Yes, yes, you were magnificent," Rigel teased. "You were like a swan."
"I was better than that McLaggen anyway," said Ron in a highly satisfied voice. "Did you see him lumbering off in the wrong direction on his fifth? Looked like he'd been Confunded. ..."
"Yes-yes, we all saw it, Ron, it was amazing," Hermione jumped in the middle of Ron's words before he moved on describing his other penalties. Eliza seemed to notice her weirdness.
Before soon, they arrived at Hagrid's hut. The great gray hippogriff, Buckbeak, was tethered in front of Hagrid's cabin, ever since last year, Buckbeak had been on parol, thanks to Dumbledore's word with the new Ministry of Magic, so now, he was reunited with Hagrid once again. Buckbeak clicked his razor-sharp beak at their approach and turned his huge head toward them.
"Oh dear," said Hermione nervously. "He's still a bit scary, isn't he?"
"Come off it, you've ridden him, haven't you?" said Ron. Harry stepped forward and bowed low to the hippogriff without breaking eye contact or blinking. After a few seconds, Buckbeak sank into a bow too.
"Oi!" said a loud voice.
Hagrid had come striding around the corner of his cabin wearing a large flowery apron and carrying a sack of potatoes. His enormous boarhound, Fang, was at his heels; Fang gave a booming bark and bounded forward.
"Git away from him! He'll have yer fingers-oh. It's yeh lot."
Fang was jumping up at Hermione and Ron, attempting to lick their ears. Hagrid stood and looked at them all for a split second, then turned and strode into his cabin, slamming the door behind him.
"Oh dear!" said Hermione, looking stricken.
"Don't worry about it," said Harry grimly. He walked over to the door and knocked loudly.
"Hagrid! Open up, we want to talk to you!"
There was no sound from within.
"If you don't open the door, we'll blast it open!" Harry said, pulling out his wand.
"Harry!" said Eliza, sounding shocked. "You can't possibly -"
"Yeah, I can!" said Harry. "Stand back -"
But before he could say anything else, the door flew open again as Harry had known it would, and there stood Hagrid, glowering down at him and looking, despite the flowery apron, positively alarming.
"I'm a teacher!" he roared at Harry. "A teacher, Potter! How dare yeh threaten ter break down my door!"
"I'm sorry, sir," said Harry, emphasizing the last word as he stowed his wand inside his robes.
Hagrid looked stunned. "Since when have yeh called me 'sir'?"
"Since when have you called me 'Potter'?"
"Oh, very clever," growled Hagrid. "Very amusin'. That's me outsmarted, innit? All righ', come in then, yeh ungrateful little..."
Mumbling darkly, he stood back to let them pass. Hermione scurried in after Harry, looking rather frightened.
"Well?" said Hagrid grumpily, as Harry, Ron, Eliza, Rigel, and Hermione sat down around his enormous wooden table, Fang laying his head immediately upon Harry's knee and drooling all over his robes. "What's this? Feelin' sorry for me? Reckon I'm lonely or summat?"
"No," said Harry at once. "We wanted to see you."
"We've missed you!" said Hermione tremulously.
"Missed me, have yeh?" snorted Hagrid. "Yeah. Righ'."
He stomped around, brewing up tea in his enormous copper kettle, muttering all the while. Finally, he slammed down three bucket-sized mugs of mahogany-brown tea in front of them and a plate of his rock cakes. Rigel was hungry enough even for Hagrid's cooking and took one at once.
"Hagrid," said Hermione timidly, when he joined them atthe table and started peeling his potatoes with a brutalitythat suggested that each tuber had done him a greatpersonal wrong, "we really wanted to carry on with Care ofMagical Creatures, you know"
"We did!" said Hermione. "But none of us could fit it into our schedules!"
"Yeah. Righ'," said Hagrid again.
"C'mon Hagrid" Eliza begged the half-giant. "You know how busy they all are-"
But Rigel stopped as a funny squelching sound came from behind them and they all looked around. Hermione let out a tiny shriek, Ron leaped out of his seat and hurried around the table away from the large barrel standing in the corner that they had only just noticed, and Rigel approached it with caution.
It was full of what looked like foot-long maggots, slimy, white, and writhing.
"What are they, Hagrid?" Rigel asked.
"Jus' giant grubs," said Hagrid.
"And they grow into...?" said Ron, looking apprehensive.
"They won' grow inter nuthin'," said Hagrid. "I got 'em ter feed ter Aragog."
And without warning, he burst into tears.
"Hagrid!" cried Hermione, leaping up, hurrying around the table the long way to avoid the barrel of maggots, and putting an arm around his shaking shoulders. "What is it?"
"It's... him..." gulped Hagrid, his beetle-black eyes streaming as he mopped his face with his apron. "It's... Aragog... I think he's dyin'... He got ill over the summer an' he's not gettin' better... I don' know what I'll do if he... if he... We've bin tergether so long..."
Eliza patted Hagrid's shoulder, looking at a complete loss for anything to say. Rigel only met Aragog once a few years back, when Harry, Ron, and himself ventured into the deep part of the Forbidden Forrest. But that one time Aragog did try to kill the three but failed. Still, he was Hagrid's friend, and Rigel understood what it likes to lose someone.
"Is there-is there anything we can do?" Hermione asked, ignoring Ron's frantic grimaces and head-shakings.
"I don' think there is, Hermione," choked Hagrid, attempting to stem the flood of his tears. "See, the rest o' the tribe ... Aragog's family... they're gettin' a bit funny now he's ill... bit restive ..."
"Yeah, I think we saw a bit of that side of them," said Ron in an undertone.
"... I don' reckon it'd be safe fer anyone but me ter go near the colony at the mo'," Hagrid finished, blowing his nose hard on his apron and looking up. "But thanks fer offerin', Hermione... It means a lot."
After that, the atmosphere lightened considerably, Hagrid seemed to take it for granted that they would have liked to have done and became his usual self once more.
"Ar, I always knew yeh'd find it hard ter squeeze me inter yer timetables," he said gruffly, pouring them more tea. "Even if yeh applied fer Time-Turners -"
"We couldn't have done," said Hermione. "We smashed the entire stock of Ministry Time-Turners when we were there last summer. It was in the Daily Prophet."
"Ar, well then," said Hagrid. "There's no way yeh could've done it... I'm sorry I've bin-yeh know-I've jus' bin worried about Aragog ... an I did wonder whether, if Professor Grubbly-Plank had bin teachin' yeh -"
At which all three of them stated categorically and untruthfully that Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had substituted for Hagrid a few times, was a dreadful teacher, as Percy looking cheerful on his seat. And with the result that by the time Hagrid waved them off the premises at dusk, he looked quite cheerful as well.
"I'm starving," said Harry, once the door had closed behind them and they were hurrying through the dark and deserted grounds. "And I've got that detention with Snape tonight, I haven't got much time for dinner."
As they came into the castle they spotted CormacMcLaggen entering the Great Hall. It took him two attempts to get through the doors; he ricocheted off the frame on the first attempt. Ron merely guffawed gloatingly and strode off into the Hall after him. However, they found their way blocked by Ernie MacMillan.
"Hi Eliza, how are you?" Ernie asked.
"Fine...." Eliza asked raising an eyebrow.
"I was wondering if you've decided about Hogsmeade, I could reserve a table at Madam Puddifoots."
Rigel's blood began boiling.
"What?" Rigel, Ron and Harry asked, looking at Ernie angrily.
"I was wondering if Eliza would like to come to Hogsmeade with me in October, I asked her last week..."
"She doesn't want to," Ron said firmly.
"How do...?"
"She's dating me, you idiot!"
"Oh...I wasn't sure if that was still the case..."
"Well, it is," Rigel growled.
"She could have just told..."
"Well, I just did," Eliza said worried that this might turn into a brawl. "Sorry Ernie but no."
"No, bother, see you in Herbology, Eliza!" Ernie said cheerfully. He left the group and walked into the Great Hall.
"If he comes near you again I'm going to hex him," Harry said darkly.
"I'll transfigure him into a badger." Rigel snarled.
"Neither of you will do anything; I can sort out my own problems..."
The smell of roast beef made Rigel's stomach ache with hunger, but they had barely taken three steps toward the Gryffindor table when Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path.
"Ahh, there you are! Mr. Potter, Miss Potter, and Mr. Black I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead? We're having a little party, just a few rising stars. I've got McLaggen coming, and Zabini, the charming Melinda Bobbins - I don't know whether you know her? Her family owns a large chain of apothecaries – and of course, I hope very much that Miss Granger will favor me by coming, too."
Slughorn spoke as though Ron was merely a piece of the stone floor.
"I can't come, Professor, I've got a detention with Professor Snape," Harry said, looking slightly relieved.
"Oh, dear! I was counting on you, Harry! Well, now, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. I'm sure I'll be able to persuade him to postpone your detention. I'll see you later!" Slughorn disappeared into the Hall.
Predictably Slughorn had been unable to persuade his colleague to change the detention so it was just Rigel, Eliza, and Hermione.
"Do you think the dinner party's going to be any fun?" Hermione asked as the three of them walked towards Slughorn's office.
"Hopefully." Rigel shrugged. "Hey, Eliza didn' Slughorn mention that our mothers were in the club."
"They were," Hermione said surprised.
"Yeah, I think he did," Eliza said then snapped her fingers. "I remember now! We have a photo of old Sluggy. He sent a few in our first year!"
"That's nice."Hermione smiled.
By the time they reached the office, almost everyone else had arrived and gathered around the dinner table. Slughorn greeted the trio warmly and they seats next to each other. He smiled as Ginny the last person entered.
"Sorry." Ginny panted. "Zacharias Smith couldn't take the hint so I had to make a pit stop."
"Bat bogey hex?" Rigel asked.
"Bat bogey hex." Ginny grinned.
Slughorn started the dinner by making small conversations about their parents. Melina Bobbins' family owns a large chain of apothecaries. The Carrow twins -Who was not related to Alecto and Amycus carrow- were in fact Slytherin twin sisters whose family were wizarding investors making a fortune in selling shares of the Nimbus company and Eliza herself a gifted potioneer and Rigel thought that she was the best potioneer in their year.
"Now, tell me, Miss Granger," Slughorn started, turning on her. "What do your parents do in the Muggle world?"
"Um... they're dentists." By that word, many looked at her in confusion. "They're muggle healers who treat people's teeth."
"Interesting, interesting," he smiled, rubbing his chin. "How about your parents, Miss Hooper? What do they do for a living?"
Thankfully he didn't ask Rigel or Eliza about their parents and instead moved on to Mclaggen.
After the dinner was over, Slughorn got to his feet to escort everyone to the door as they said their goodnight and left.
As they were leaving, however, the three Gryffindors were stopped by McGongall.
"I swear I did not do it." Eliza blurted out.
"Why do students insist on worrying when I wish to speak to them?" McGongall huffed Have you done something wrong, Miss Potter?" She asked narrowing her eyes.
"No." Eliza shook her head rapidly.
'Is there a problem professor?" Rigel asked
"I wanted to speak to you about this thesis Mr Black..." She began, but Rogel cut across her.
"I know I used a lot of conjecture and assumptions Professor, and I know you prefer facts but the library books only went so far and..." Professor McGonagall put her hand up halting Rigel's rambled apology.
"Black you're not in trouble."
"I'm not?"
"No, I thought that this essay was...beyond outstanding!" Rigel saw Eliza and Hermione smile next to him.
"Really, then..."
"Quite apart from the fact that I only gave you the assignment yesterday so you must have been up half the night completing it, Madam Pomfrey will be after you if you don't get enough sleep."
"I'm sorry, I just couldn't wait to start and then time just ran away..."
"Don't apologize, Black, this work is...it's phenomenal!"
"Thanks," Rigel said, trying to stop herself from blushing.
"Then why did you want to see Rigel, Professor?" Hermione asked carefully.
"I showed the essay to Professor Dumbledore and he agreed with my suggestion." Eliza, Rigel, and Hermione looked up at their Head of House, confused.
"We would like to send it to the editors of Transfiguration Today, we think it is worthy of publication!" Hermione gasped.
"Ri, that's amazing!"
"You...you really think it's good enough?" Rigel asked uncertainly.
"Of course it is, come to my office tomorrow to sign the paperwork and I'll send it off. Professor Dumbledore would like to come to our Transfiguration lesson on Monday to discuss some of your ideas. We also decided that you should be presented with the Transfiguration Trophy, heavens know why you haven't got it before, we would ordinarily announce it to the school but we decided against it, though you'd prefer a quieter affair." she said when Rigel was about to retort. "The staff will be told and we will be writing to your family, and the Weasleys, and I know Remus will be delighted when he returns. I...I am very proud of you, Rigel."
Professor McGonagall looked down at Rigel who couldn't help the tears that suddenly sprang from her eyes.
"Thanks, Professor...I...I can't believe it." Rigel stuttered.
"Come on, it's nearly twelve, you two should be in bed." The rest of the walk was silent but filled with emotion.
Rigel beamed as he finished another one of his theories. It was a faster way for the animagi transformation. There were many changes in his instruction such as instead of carrying a mandrake in your mouth for a whole month, Rigel had written that the leaves should be chewed and spat out before mixing it with morning dew and one of the hair. Then after mixing the chrysalis of a Death's-head Hawk Moth with his solution, Rigel had left it untouched in the dark corner for seven days and gave it a good electrical charge. the rest of the instructions were the same but according to the arithmetic calculations that he and Hermione made, It would work.
in front of his bed were several letters from a few fans and family that he had already read.
Dear Mr. Black,
Transfiguration Today received your essay entitled 'Determining the neurological shift between a transfigured human and an Animagi with particular reference to mammalian and mythical beings' and I am delighted to inform you that it has been approved for publication in our Autumn edition. Please find enclosed the edition and a subscription pack, should you wish to continue receiving the periodical. In the spring edition, we intend to publish feedback and questions from our readers on the essay, we will send this to you in February so that you may respond to the feedback and answer the questions. Thank you for choosing to publish with Transfiguration Today!
Yours sincerely,
Robert Buggins,
Editor in Chief, Transfiguration Today
Dear Mr. Black,
I am delighted to inform you that you have been awarded the Transfiguration Trophy. This was unanimously approved by a meeting of the Hogwarts staff and governors in September. Your Transfiguration work has been remarkable since your first year and with the Outstanding NEWT you received last year and your publication in Transfiguration Today it was decided that you should be awarded this honor this year rather than at the end of your schooling. The award has existed for over eight hundred years yet has only been awarded nine times, lastly in 1944 to Professor McGonagall, so you should be incredibly proud of your accomplishment. This award consists of an inscription on a large trophy (which you can view in the Trophy room), a small trophy (which you can keep), and a prize fund of 500 Galleons which will be moved to your Gringotts account shortly. Congratulations on your achievement and good luck with your future Transfiguration studies.
Yours sincerely,
Professor Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Dear Rigel,
CONGRATULATIONS! I'm so proud of you!
The Transfiguration award should have been yours years ago but now you're actually going to get published everyone knows you deserve it. Dad's over the moon and mum looked like he was going to cry when he found out.
I miss you so much. See you at Christmas
All my love, always,
Tonks
Xxx
Dear Rigel,
We are so proud of you for getting the Transfiguration award! We're so looking forward to celebrating with you at Christmas. Fred is thrilled and Arthur said that one of his friends said that the paper you wrote was mind-blowing and that the IWP would love to meet you. Arthur brought the issue home and we have it framed by the fireplace in the front room, we don't understand a word! Keep up the good work (and please keep an eye on the others).
See you at Christmas,
Lots of love,
Molly
Xxx
P.S. Don't work too hard, you need to sleep and eat too!
Dear Mr. Black,
Congratulations on your recent publication in Transfiguration Today, the essay was superb and we have started a project using some of your theories. I have been informed by Horace Slughorn that you wish to pursue a career as a Hit-Wizard for the ICW, we look forward to receiving your application when you have completed your NEWTS and wish you success with the rest of your Hogwarts career.
Best wishes,
Percival Graves-Jackson
President of the International Wizarding Police
P.S. Please give my best wishes to Professor Slughorn.
Rigel put the letters back in a box which he kept under his bed. He stroked Gandalf for a moment before swinging his legs off the bed and grabbing his bag for his extra transfiguration lessons.