The next morning Delilah learned that the password was Parseltongue. The storm had cleared itself out by morning, but the sky was still gloomy; the heavy clouds swirled overhead as Draco and Delilah examined their new schedules over breakfast.
"Today won't be bad," Delilah commented. "Charms with the Ravenclaws and then Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors."
"And then double Alchemy this afternoon," Draco said with a grin.
"Oh! That probably means we'll be making something which will be interesting."
"I hope it's better than last time, that was disgusting."
Delilah had to agree. Making extra potent fertilizer doesn't sound that bad, but they had to use disgusting ingredients such as dragon dung. She shuddered at the memory.
Then there was a sudden rustling noise above them, and a hundred owls came soaring through the open windows carrying the morning mail. Delilah instinctively looked up, but as usual there was nothing for her.
The owls circled the tables, looking for the people to whom their letters and packages were addressed. Draco's eagle owl landed on his shoulder, carrying his usual supply of sweets and cakes from home. Delilah grinned as he offered her some before they headed off for Charms.
Charms class was boring. It was just a review of what they had learned over the past three years as well as what they were going to learn this year, which was slightly more interesting.
Finally the bell rang, signaling the end of the lesson, and the class separated, most of the Slytherins heading towards the grounds and down the sloping lawn to the Care of Magical Creatures lesson.
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.
As Delilah saw what was in the crates, she almost stopped. The creatures looked like deformed, shell-less lobsters, horribly pale and slimy-looking, with legs sticking out in very odd places and no visible heads. 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 as the Slytherins came to a stop just behind the Gryffindors, "so yeh'll be able ter raise 'em yerselves! Thought we'd make a bit of a project of it!"
Delilah couldn't personally see why anyone would want to raise them. They looked like ugly mutants.
Draco muttered, "But why would we want to?"
Even though he had said it relatively quietly, the Gryffindors, and Hagrid, heard. Hagrid in particular looked stumped.
Delilah elbowed him as his mouth opened again. He closed it. Blaise however, did not.
"What do they even do?" he asked. "What's 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, Zabini. 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."
Delilah and Draco picked a crate that seemed to have a smallish Skrewt and tried to tempt them with handfuls of ant eggs. It didn't work.
"Ouch!" yelled Gryffindor Dean Thomas after about ten minutes. "It got me!"
Hagrid hurried over to him, looking anxious.
"Its end exploded!" said Thomas angrily, showing Hagrid a burn on his hand.
"Ah, yeah, that can happen when they blast off," said Hagrid, nodding.
"Eurgh!" said Lavender Brown again. "Eurgh, Hagrid, what's that pointy thing on it?"
"Ah, some of 'em have got stings," said Hagrid enthusiastically (Lavender quickly withdrew her hand from the box). "I reckon they're the males. . . . The females've got sorta sucker things on their bellies.... I think they might be ter suck blood."
"These are monstrous, even for Hagrid," Delilah murmured to Draco, who nodded, looking disgusted as the Blast Ended Skrewt tried to bite his hand off.
"Well, I can certainly see why we're trying to keep them alive," said Blaise sarcastically. "Who wouldn't want pets that can burn, sting, and bite all at once?"
Honestly, how Pansy still was dating that blasted idiot was beyond Delilah, even if she agreed with him. He shouldn't be a prat about it though.
"Just because they're not very pretty, it doesn't mean they're not useful," Hermione snapped. "Dragon blood's amazingly magical, but you wouldn't want a dragon for a pet, would you?"
Delilah hid her smile as Blaise shut up.
The rest of the class was full of burns and stings. Finally it ended and the Slytherins all bolted out of there as quickly as they could.
"5 galleons half the class will start skipping," Draco muttered.
"No, it will be three quarters," Delilah replied.
Draco laughed, but it fell just as soon as it started.
"We're not going to skip, are we?"
"No, that class is just attendance points, and we'll be able to drop it our sixth year anyway."
He glumly nodded.
They sat down in the Great Hall and quickly ate before heading down to Alchemy.
"Today," Professor Snape said as he flounced into the classroom, "we'll be transforming these cauldrons into gold. It works on any metal or plastic, but since we have a large quantity of cauldrons we will be working on them. It will be a partner activity that will last for the next few lessons, so choose wisely."
Delilah and Draco turned to each other at the same time, laughing awkwardly. Delilah felt her neck slightly heat up. She noticed that Draco's usually pale face was also tinted pink.
"The instructions are on the board," Snape informed and with a flick of his wand, the board was full to the brim with writing. "You should get to step 10 today."
And with that, he let the class start.
The instructions were complicated, and it would be lucky if anyone got past step 5, let alone 10. However, since this class was full of Snape's favorites, they would be fine.
Delilah murmured to herself as she followed the instructions. She felt a hand brush a strand of hair out of her face.
"Sorry, it just... was in the way...," Draco muttered, his face reddening. Delilah's face mirrored his.
"It's fine."
For the rest of the class Delilah tried, and failed, to focus on the potion. Somehow, they managed to get through the instructions, and were the only ones who did. Snape gave a rare smile and gave 15 points to Slytherin each, as well as making them the only ones without homework.
Feeling pleased, they both headed up to lunch, Draco went ahead of her, talking to Blaise.
"Oi! Look at this, the Weasleys' father is in the paper!" he exclaimed just outside the Great Hall.
"What?"
"Mr. Weasley is in the paper, listen to this!
FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC
It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office."
Draco looked up.
"They didn't even get the name right!"
He read on.
Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene.
"There's even a picture! It's Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in front of their house! Wow, she could lose some wait, couldn't she?"
Draco had been speaking loudly, and Ronald had heard him, he was shaking in fury.
"Get stuffed, Malfoy," said Harry. "C'mon, Ron...."
Delilah tried to move forward, to stop him from saying something stupid, but the crowd was too thick.
"Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren't you, Potter?" sneered Draco. "So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?"
"You know your mother, Malfoy?" said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron's robes to stop him from launching himself at Draco — "that expression she's got, like she's got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?"
Draco's pale face went slightly pink.
"Don't you dare insult my mother, Potter."
"Keep your fat mouth shut, then," said Harry, turning away.
BANG!
Several people screamed. Draco had shot a curse at Harry. Before Harry could retaliate, there was a second loud BANG, and a roar that echoed through the entrance hall.
"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"
Delilah spun around. Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Draco had been standing. There was a terrified silence in the entrance hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry.
"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.
"No," said Harry, "missed."
"LEAVE IT!" Moody shouted.
Crabbe had tried to pick Draco the ferret up. Delilah tried not to laugh. It was bad, she knew, but also amazing. Draco made quite the cute little ferret, and honestly he, along with some other students, did need to learn to be nicer to Gryffindors.
Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.
"I don't think so!" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again — it flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.
"I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back is turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do...."
The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.
"Never — do — that — again —" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.
"Professor Moody!" said a shocked voice.
Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.
"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.
"What — what are you doing?" said Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.
"Teaching," said Moody.
"Teach — Moody, is that a student?" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.
"Yep," said Moody.
"No!" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand; a moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.
"Moody, we never use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall weakly. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"
"He might've mentioned it, yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly, "but I thought a good sharp shock —"
"We give detention, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"
"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Draco with great dislike.
Draco, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.
"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy....You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son... you tell him that from me.... Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"
"Yes," said Draco resentfully.
"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape.... Come on, you...." And he seized Draco's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.
Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.
Delilah moved to sit down by the Slytherin table, but Fred, George, and Lee came up.
"Nope, you're joining us today!" Fred said with a grin and gently pulled her towards the Gryffindor table. She laughed, pulled her arm out of his grip, and walked with him.
"Why, may I ask?"
"Moody!" Fred said like that explained everything as they sat beside Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "How cool is he?"
"Beyond cool," said George, sitting down opposite Fred.
"Supercool," said Lee Jordan, sliding into the seat beside George.
"We had him this afternoon," he told them.
"What was it like?" Delilah asked, sitting down beside Fred.
Fred, George, and Lee exchanged looks full of meaning.
"Never had a lesson like it," said Fred.
"He knows, man," said Lee.
"Knows what?" said Ron, leaning forward.
"Knows what it's like to be out there doing it," said George impressively.
"Doing what?" said Harry.
"Fighting the Dark Arts," said Fred.
"He's seen it all," said George.
" 'Mazing," said Lee.
Ron dived into his bag for his schedule.
"We haven't got him till Thursday!" he said in a disappointed voice.
Delilah checked hers. She would also have to wait until Thursday.