The welcome feast was a whirlwind of floating candles, earthy smells, colourful decorations and the rhythmic timbre of chattering children, scraping spoons and rustling robes.
As if by a strong tide, Mezrielda was swept from Bagsy and to the Slytherin table. Bagsy weakly reached her hand after her friend, wishing once more she could sit with her during the meal. Instead, she sadly waved as Mezrielda turned from her and sat down on the other side of the hall. Disappointed, Bagsy found a seat at the Hufflepuff table.
'Sorry about before,' Greenda said to Bagsy as she appeared at her side, sitting down next to her. 'I was in the middle of talking with some friends.'
Arching an eyebrow, Bagsy regarded Greenda. She'd only ever seen her alone, or being tormented by Emmeline, or speaking with Ford during Quidditch practise.
Greenda crossed her arms defensively. 'People like to talk with me occasionally,' she defended herself. 'At least, whenever I have something interesting to say, they do. Finding interesting things to tell them is the hard part.'
Not too keen on the way Greenda was speaking, like she was always on the lookout for gossip, Bagsy shrugged and turned her attention to the food appearing on the four tables of the Great Hall.
'Well?' Greenda asked expectantly after the quiet stretched on. 'What is it? What did you need on the train?'
'Oh,' Bagsy murmured. 'It's nothing.'
'You can tell me, really,' Greenda said, placing a hand on Bagsy's shoulder comfortingly. 'I'm all ears.'
'My friend was injured,' Bagsy explained. 'It wasn't something serious, so I didn't want to get a teacher,' she lied. She hadn't wanted a teacher to avoid explaining how Mezrielda got her injury and, besides, she hadn't seen any on the train, not even Professor Blythurst. 'I thought you might know what to do and be able to help.'
Greenda sharply removed her hand from Bagsy's shoulder, as if scalded. 'Someone was hurt?'
'She has a bad leg. She's fine now, though, she was just in a bit of pain.'
'Why didn't you say so!?' Greenda burst out, her face colouring.
Bagsy startled at the sudden emotion in her voice. 'You told me not to bother you.' She shrunk down. 'I'm sorry.'
'No, no, no. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself.' Tutting and shaking her head, Greenda folded her arms. 'I want to be a healer and yet I didn't listen when someone needed my help. I failed you and your friend.' She fixed Bagsy with a fierce gaze that was as intimidating as her previous outburst. 'I'm really sorry.'
'Thanks,' Bagsy said, feeling a lot better about it. 'Hey, I see your head girl?'
In a split second Greenda's face changed from serious to overjoyed. Bagsy had missed how emotive her friend was – it made talking to her so engaging and easy to understand.
'Oh, yes!' Greenda gasped out. 'I was so surprised when I received the letter! But here we are, and here I am! Not only was I a prefect in my fourth year, something I'm sure you'll remember is incredibly rare, but now I'm head girl as well! It truly is wonderful.' Without prompting, Greenda was rushing into all her plans for being head girl – new extra-curricular activities she wanted to encourage, a new anti-bullying frame work and new materials for arts and crafts like making banners for quidditch matches. Bagsy listened intently, laughing when Greenda made a joke, and nodding enthusiastically at her other ideas which all sounded rather good.
She was so enthralled by Greenda's talking that, before she knew it, the sorting and the following feast was over. The students were satisfied by the mountains of food they had consumed, and Professor Fitzsimmons was stepping up to the podium to give their speech. For the first time that meal, Greenda paused her speaking as she and Bagsy turned to listen.
'A wonderful meal,' Fitzsimmons intoned pleasantly. 'Once again we owe thanks to the elves of Hogwarts Castle for their culinary skills.' Fitzsimmons gave a small set of claps, signalling applause from the rest of the hall. Once the clapping died down, they continued. 'I have two announcements before I can dismiss you to your dorms. I'm sure you are all excited to settle in and begin the new year, and to those of you who have just joined the school I'm sure you are eager to explore your new home. As such, I shall be swift. First, allow me to introduce our new Potions professor, who will be assisting and eventually taking over from Professor Blythurst. Professor Stery, do you have anything you'd like to say?'
Bagsy scanned the teacher's table and quickly finding the man Fitzsimmons was addressing.
Stery – though Bagsy realised she should now call him Professor Stery –pushed his chair back and stood. The light flowy robes he'd worn in Australia were replaced with heavy velvet ones that shimmered a deep blue to match the now grey and blue star-shaped jewels at the end of his elaborate, bushy beard.
He raised a hand to wave at the students. 'It's a pleasure to be here,' he said with a smile, straightening up as much as his hunched posture could allow. 'I know no one can replace the wonderful Professor Blythurst, but I'll do my best to continue his fantastic work.'
Looks of disagreement passed between the Hufflepuffs sitting around Bagsy. Most students knew Professor Blythurst as a lazy teacher who didn't do anything in besides sit in his chair and cough. They would struggle to call his work fantastic.
Bagsy felt a pang of sympathy for Blythurst – he was clearly unwell and didn't choose to be so inattentive.
'Thank you, Professor Stery,' Fitzsimmons said as the new professor sat down. 'The second order of business is the announcement of Live Picture Production's search for an actress to take part in their new series; Vampire Affairs. For more information you need look no further than the notice boards in your common rooms.' As Fitzsimmons talked a weight of displeasure tugged on their features. They seemed as happy about Vampire Affairs as Mezrielda was. 'With that, I shall dismiss you, and let you get on with your evening.'
No sooner had the words left Fitzsimmons' mouth than Stery had risen from his seat and was rushing to the end of the Hufflepuff table. Greenda followed his movements with confused eyes. Emmeline, still a prefect, looked equally confused.
'Hufflepuffs, on your feet,' Stery instructed. The students complied, glancing at where Professor Blythurst, the head of Hufflepuff house, was sat pale-faced and eyes shut in his chair at the teacher's table. Usually he would make at least an attempt at leading the Hufflepuffs from the hall before delegating to the prefects. This year, evidently, Stery would be taking on more than just Blythurst's Potions responsibilities.
'Don't sit around like lemons. I told you to stand, so stand!' Stery enforced with authority.
For once, the Hufflepuffs were the swiftest to leave the hall, with the clear instructions Stery kindly, but firmly, gave them. He made a point of reminding students to tuck in their shirts, or straighten their robes, when he saw uniforms a little too scruffy for his liking.
Their exit from the hall was so efficient that Bagsy was barely able to cast Mezrielda a look before she was dragged to the Hufflepuff common room. Crouching down, she made her way through the barrel and into the communal space – feeling joy at the earthy smells, the amber glow, the cushion-filled armchairs and the dancing cacti.
'Of course,' she heard Jon, a boy in her year, sigh. Looking over, she saw Jon's friend, Itsuki Elmore, had already stationed himself beneath some of the plants so they could turn his grown-out hair back into a mohawk.
Itsuki smiled at Jon. 'I'm not me without my mohawk!'
Jon had grown considerably since last year, and towered over his much shorter friend, looking down at him with an arched eyebrow. 'If you say so.'
'Bagsy!' a voice called amid the clamour of students rushing to their rooms. The voice came from by the notice board. Looking over, Bagsy saw Teresa waving at her. She walked over, her stomach doing nervous flips when she saw the horrified expression on Neve's face. The short girl was stood next to Teresa, staring wide-eyed at the notice board.
'Hello, Teresa,' Bagsy greeted, wrapping her arms around herself self-consciously. 'How have you been?'
'Never mind that.' Teresa grabbed Bagsy's shoulder and moved her in front of the notice board. 'I came over here to look at the auditions, but I found something far more interesting.' Teresa jabbed a finger at a slip of paper pinned to the board.
Miss Beetlehorn to report to the Charms classroom.
Asap.
-Professor Starrett
With a gulp, Bagsy re-read the letter once, twice, then three times, her stomach sinking with each reading. 'She doesn't mean me though, surely?'
Teresa let go of Bagsy's shoulder and cast a piteous look at Neve.
Neve said, 'I don't think anyone else has Beetlehorn for a surname here.'
With a sigh, and a drooping of her shoulders, Bagsy internally agreed.
Teresa hit Bagsy on the back twice, letting out a laugh. 'You've just arrived and you're already in trouble! I wonder what you did? Professor Starrett already had it in for you, maybe things are about to get a whole lot worse.'
Wringing her hands together and sucking in sharp breaths, Bagsy found her mind worrying away from her. What if Starrett had found a way to get her expelled, after all? She'd wanted to last year but Fitzsimmons hadn't let her. At least, that's what Starrett had said herself.
Neve said, 'Teresa, you're not helping.' Then, to Bagsy, 'I'm sure it's nothing to worry about.'
'Oh, get over it,' said Teresa. 'And get on with it, too. You don't want to keep the head of Slytherin house waiting, do you?'
Shaking her head, to match her shaking hands, Bagsy quickly left the common room, going back the way she'd come.
After a traipse through Hogwarts castle, she was approaching the double doors of the Charms classroom. She reached for the brass handles and, sucking in a final breath, half-expecting it to be her last, she pushed the heavy doors open.
It took some effort, but with her strength it didn't take too long before she was slipping through the gap between one door and the other. As quietly as she could, she closed the door. Thinking of Stery's uniform checking, Bagsy looked down at herself and hurriedly tried to brush out the creases in her robe.
'Don't bother,' came a harsh voice. Professor Starrett was sitting at the other end of the room, seeming miles away, behind her lavish desk. A chalkboard stood behind her with Artifisiary written on it. 'It will be messy again in a few moments.'
'My robes?' Bagsy checked. The wide corridor between the tiered seating felt like it was stretching out before her, a road that led to her doom.
'Of course.' Starrett stood up, her chair scraping across the floor. She was a short woman, drowned by the red and gold robes that wrapped around her, and yet she was by far the most terrifying professor at the school. 'You're here, and not expelled, by one grace alone; Fitzsimmons finally gave permission for the necessary teachings to begin.'
As she spoke, Starrett walked towards Bagsy, her heels click-clacking in the tall room like the chimes on a clock counting down to Bagsy's end.
Shrinking in on herself, Bagsy waited for the worst.
'Don't have anything to say?'
Bagsy shook her head. If she tried to speak now, she knew she'd only stutter. Nothing intelligible would come out.
'I should have known,' Starrett muttered disapprovingly. 'Not even willing to put effort into talking. You maintain this farcical façade even now. This will be like drawing blood from a stone.' With a final clack like the shutting of the doors on a train to safety departing without Bagsy, Professor Starrett was standing before her, eyes glaring. 'With Fitzsimmons' permission, I will personally train you in the art of Artifisiary.'
With a sharp holding up of her hand, Starret cut off any questions Bagsy may have had about what Artifisiary was. 'To make time for the subject I will require you drop two of your current electives. I recommend dropping Muggle Studies and Care for Magical Creatures, as I see a use for Thaumathletics in your future, but the final decision is yours. You will join me in this room every other evening without fail.' Something nasty twisted the corners of Starrett's spiteful mouth into a grin. 'Oh, and if you think you'll have time for quidditch this year, think again.'
At this, Bagsy found her mouth working without her permission. 'That's not fair!'
Sharply, Starret had raised her wand and was pointing it at Bagsy. 'We begin now. Your goal is to stop me. Do you understand?'
'No!' Bagsy scrambled away from Starrett. 'I don't!'
'Good. The real world won't wait for you to understand, either.' Starrett flicked her wand and shot a jet of light at her.
Bagsy tried to duck to the side, but couldn't. The light moved faster than any other spell Bagsy had faced; twice the speed of a snitch. The sheer velocity startled all thinking from her mind.
The light collided with her shoulder and a spattering of gold coloured goo manifested on her robe.
Bagsy grimaced and prodded the paint-like substance with a finger. 'Eww,' she complained, before another jet of light crashing into her leg.
'Did I say we were finished?' Starrett advanced on her. 'I told you to stop me, Miss Beetlehorn. Do it already!'
'I don't know how!' Bagsy skirted around Starrett, holding her hands up in the hopes of placating the teacher who seemed to have gone mad, but Starrett didn't let up. Calmly, she click-clacked in her heels, pursuing Bagsy slowly around the room.
Bagsy scuttled up the tiered seating, ducking behind the benches and desks, only to find the wood splinted by the light that rammed through it and hit her unfailingly. She tried to sprint and out-run the spells, but that didn't work either. She even tried to throw the doors open and escape, but Starrett waved her wand and locked them before she could.
'I told you to stop me,' Starrett reprimanded her with a dark glare. 'Not run.'
Back pressed against the door, breathing ragged and tired. She slumped to the ground, hanging her head in defeat.
'Giving up, are we? I should've expected as much from you – you'll do anything short of actually using your skills.'
A click reverberated through the door Bagsy was leant against. She fell backwards as it opened onto the corridor outside.
'Get out of my sight, and when you return the evening after next you better be willing to show more resilience than the pathetic display you've made today. Your pathetic act stops now.'
Carefully, Bagsy got to her feet. She was almost entirely covered in the gold paint, weighing her hair and clothes down. With a muted nod she trudged, shoes squelching, out of the door.
'And clean yourself up!' Starrett called after her. Bagsy paused, a flash of anger like she'd felt at her parents consuming her for an infuriating moment. 'And if you're hoping to go and tell your sister about these sessions,' Starrett added, 'think again. You won't gain anything of use from me. My lips are sealed.'
The confusion at the non-sensical nature of Starrett's words was drowned out by the mention of Bontie.
Without her realising when, her mag-net bat and ball had moved from one of her pockets to her hands. With a metallic sound, the ball disconnected from the bat and hovered in the air. Eyes narrowed in a flaming rage, Bagsy turned sharply.
Her feet slid across the ground in practised fluidity as she drew the bat back. Wit a violent clank, she hit the ball.
It zipped through the air at Starrett's head and Bagsy, realising what she'd done, and lamenting how stupid her impulse had been, could only watch.
Without a flinch at the fist sized metal ball rocketing towards her, Starrett swished her wand and summoned a protective charm that rebounded it. The ball bounced off the protego shield, stuttered in the air, then was pulled back to the bat by its magnetic core.
Muscles working off memory, Bagsy cushioned the impact of the ball returning to the bat before lowering her invention. With a gulp, she looked at Starrett and the shield slowly dissipating in front of her.
For a while, there was only the noise of the drip drip drip of the golden paint falling from Bagsy's robes.
Professor and student stared at each other.
'That's more like it,' Starrett said. 'Get out of my sight.'
Bagsy ran from the room before Professor Starrett decided to murder her.
She had no idea what had just happened.