Chapter 38
What followed next wasn’t something Taylor could properly describe if asked. It was a mess of voices, hands, and jostling.
She heard Nap hooting and flapping her wings; she had to keep Arabelle from breaking out of her cage and fleeing the castle. Each time Taylor tried to make her bugs do something, the pain in her head got worse. There were voices far and near and no matter how much Taylor tried to focus, she just couldn’t.
“What’s going on here?” A familiar, older voice said. Was it Penny?
“It’s Taylor, she’s—”
“Oh my god, she’s bleeding. The hospital wing, now!”
Things turned even more chaotic. Trying to focus on her bugs was like trying to stare at the sun without sunglasses, but she managed to piece together what was happening around her.
Penny was running down a corridor carrying Taylor in her arms, with Luna right behind her. Taylor’s face was a mess of blood and bile.
“Professor!” Penny called out once they arrived at the hospital wing.
There were a lot of people there. In one of the corners, surrounded by prefects, Lockhart prattled on about what a shame it was that he didn’t get there in time to save Harry Potter and how he knew exactly how to defeat the Heir and the Horror.
Dumbledore and McGonagall were huddled in another corner talking in hushed whispers. McGonagall looked spooked, Dumbledore for once, looked serious and not his jolly grandfatherly self.
Penny’s arrival caused even more yelling, and subsequently, more shoving and manhandling. At some point, someone pushed a vial against her mouth and Taylor might have passed out, because when next she could sort out her thoughts, she was in an unfamiliar bed. It was in a cubicle with curtains separating it from a lot of other cubicles. Her bugs felt sluggish to respond when she tried to see through them. She wasn’t alone in the room. There were others, mostly faculty members and students. On beds on the other side of the room, she could see the petrified students and cat.
Luna was sitting on a chair by the bed, leaning over, resting her head against the blanket, asleep. Taylor reached out, gently patting her friend’s hair.
She tried to make sense of what had happened.
Facts she knew:
The Heir attacked again and this time, it was the wonder trio that got petrified. The horror was some sort of serpentine monster. Her bugs died when seeing the horror.
Taylor stopped, blinking. No, that was wrong. Not all of her bugs had died. Taylor had been in too much pain to make sense of everything at the time, but she’d caught glimpses of the horror, she could even tell it was like a giant snake or lizard. Maybe not a lizard, she didn’t remember seeing any legs. The spikes of pain came whenever she saw the yellow colour. The eyes, maybe?
Looking into the creature’s eyes petrified people? But Taylor’s bugs weren’t petrified. She’d checked the first time around.
Before starting on the list again, she sent a few bugs into the bathroom looking for a way into the pipes. It took a bit of trying, but she found a way into the pipes under the sink. That particular pipe was large enough to fit an adult, but not large enough for the creature she saw. Could the horror change size?
One more fact to her list:
The horror had been using the pipes, instead of the tunnels.
Taylor had been too focused on the tunnels because of what Aragog had said. But the big spider never mentioned tunnels. He said the horror lived under the castle and she just assumed that was what he meant.
She sent a few bugs inside the pipe, following the path downwards trying to see where it led. It didn’t work like she expected. The pipe was longer than her range, but the direction it went was towards the lake.
Another fact:
She’d heard the Heir, but she hadn’t seen them. There had been footsteps in the bathroom, she heard hissing, and she was certain it hadn’t been from the horror.
Two things Taylor was forced to conclude from that. The Heir could go invisible (was there a charm for that?) and they could probably talk to snakes, which made sense since Salazar Slytherin could talk to snakes too.
With her initial surrounding exploration done, Taylor paid attention to herself. Her head still hurt a little, her bugs felt sluggish to control and… yes, Taylor was certain, her range had reduced. Not a lot, just a few meters, but she hadn’t escaped unscathed from meeting the horror, even if indirectly.
That… wasn’t good news at all.
Taylor had been hoping she’d be able to drown the horror in bugs, but if she also got hurt just by them looking into the thing’s eyes, she was in a bit of a pickle. Bugs couldn’t close their eyes. Snakes had eyes on the side of the head, and bugs often had compound eyes that basically let them see all around them. There were exceptions, of course, like jumping and wolf spiders. While they still had a wide field of view, it was more forward facing than most bugs. But most of her fliers had all around vision.
Even with everything she’d learned, Taylor still didn’t know who the Heir was. But at least now, she had a solid clue about the Horror and the Chamber.
A few hours later, when morning arrived, Taylor had to endure Madam Pomfrey prodding and asking questions after the woman had shoo’ed Luna away.
Do you know what happened? (No, Taylor lied.) Does your head still hurt? (No, she told the truth.) Does your family have a history of brain disease or cancer? (What?)
Taylor was relegated to staying in bed, eating breakfast alone and spying on everyone else.
Of her friends, the most notable difference was Ginny. Taylor didn’t know how that was possible, but she was crying even more than before and looked even more wan. It made sense, somehow. Her brother and her obsession target had been petrified.
Poor Ginny couldn’t catch a break.
The school was abuzz with renewed panic. Professors tried, and failed, to keep students’ attention in their classes. There was a renewed up-tick in protection charm sales, now that it was confirmed that not even “pure-bloods” were safe from the Heir.
It was about three in the afternoon when half a dozen people arrived at the school, clamouring for Dumbledore’s attention.
One of the visitors was a short, portly man with rumpled grey hair and an anxious expression. He was wearing a strange mixture of clothes: a pin-striped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak and pointed purple boots. Under his arm he carried a lime-green bowler.
Another visitor was swathed in a long black travelling cloak, smiling a cold and satisfied smile. He kept whispering words into the portly man’s ears. Each sentence made the bowler guy even more anxious.
Taylor didn’t know who the guy in the black cloak was, but the bleach blond hair and sneering face made her immediately think of Draco Malfoy.
Another visitor was this imposing witch. She was tall, thin and bony, and wore a hat with a stuffed vulture on it and carried a bright red handbag. The look on her face was severe enough that it might send Professor McGonagall running to the hills.
Another stood with his back straight with an air of gravitas to him, like he thought themselves important, or dangerous.
Two two were a pair of red-heads, with the matron crying in the man’s arms. The Weasleys?
The wizard with the air of gravitas around him stood close to the portly man, like he was a security guard or something.
But more importantly, along with these people, there was a beetle. One that didn’t feel like a normal beetle. It had hidden itself in the imposing witch’s vulture hat. It felt almost like the acromantulas. Taylor could feel a mind behind those bug eyes. A mind that at the moment, was panicking.
Taylor prodded at the bug, and the thing set off in a desperate flight.
That drew a bit of attention, with people looking around and trying to find what caused the noise, but no one looked up to see the beetle flying away.
Taylor kept a few bugs trailing the fleeing beetle until it had left her range and disappeared. Sentient spiders, and now beetles. Taylor grinned. She loved magic!
The portly man, Taylor learned, was Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic. The bleach blond was Malfoy senior, to no one’s surprise. Among them were Mr and Mrs Weasley. The witch with the vulture hat was Augusta Longbottom, who had been with Fudge when he was informed of the attacks and decided to come as well.
Augusta and the Weasley pair went to the Hospital wing, while Malfoy, Fudge and the bodyguards met Dumbledore in his office.
Things were spiralling out of control.
Fudge (and his auror) were here to take Hagrid to Azkaban for opening the chamber again. Malfoy, on the other hand, was here for Dumbledore.
“Dreadful thing, Dumbledore,” said Malfoy, taking out a long roll of parchment, “but the governors feel it’s time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension – you’ll find all twelve signatures on it. I’m afraid we feel you’re losing your touch. How many attacks have there been now? Three more last night, wasn’t it? At this rate, there’ll be no students of lower pedigree left at Hogwarts.”
“Now, see here, Lucius,” said Fudge, looking resigned, “We talked about this. Dumbledore suspended… no, no… last thing we want just now…”
“The appointment – or suspension – of the Headmaster is a matter for the governors, Fudge. I’ve explained that already.” said Malfoy. Even through her bugs, Taylor could hear the sneer in his voice. “And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks…”
“Now look, Lucius, if Dumbledore can’t stop them–” said Fudge, whose upper lip was sweating now, “I mean to say, who can?”
“That remains to be seen,” said Malfoy senior, with a nasty smile. “But as all twelve of us have voted…”
“If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside.”
“But–” stuttered Fudge.
Dumbledore had not taken his bright blue eyes off Lucius Malfoy’s cold grey ones.
“However,” said Dumbledore, speaking slowly and clearly, “you will find that I shall only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. I shall be most interested to learn whether the attacks cease with my departure.”
After meeting with Dumbledore, the Minister for Magic wanted to see “Harry Potter” with his own eyes before taking Hagrid away to Azkaban.
Taylor had seen the headmaster use that silver magical bird again to send a message, and presumably, Madam Pomfrey had received it, because she was ushering Taylor away.
“Off you go,” Madam Pomfrey said, casting one last charm on Taylor. “There’s nothing I can do for now, and you don’t seem to be hurting anymore.”
Taylor got off the bed, looking around. There wasn’t anything to carry back to her dorm, so she made sure to stay away from the approaching crowd while she returned to Ravenclaw’s common room.
Watching through her bugs, Taylor didn’t miss the satisfied glint in Malfoy’s eyes while he glanced at the crying Mrs Weasley or the petrified Harry. Nor his sneering face when Fudge’s auror took Hagrid away. The whole thing lasted less than half an hour.
When dinner time arrived, McGonagall was filling in for Dumbledore’s absence. She told the students what had happened, with Gryffindors feeling dismayed and a few Slytherins puffing their chests out like they had done something important. Taylor decided to keep an eye on those.
That wasn’t the only news. Students were now forbidden from wandering the castle alone. They were to be escorted by prefects or faculty from their common room to classes and the Great Hall.
“I urge you,” McGonagall said. “If anyone knows anything about the Heir, do speak up. My doors are open to any student that needs to speak with me.”
No one spoke up.
Taylor returned to her dorm room thinking about how she could help with things. Listening to the staff conversation was enough to understand things were really dire. If the attacks didn’t stop, there was a chance Hogwarts might be closed, permanently.
That wasn’t something she could accept. She’d barely gotten magic. There was no way she’d let some maniac use a serpentine horror to shut down the school.
Many other students seemed to instinctively know the same. Bands of friends grouped together, trying to brainstorm ways of finding the Heir.
Taylor pipe investigation was a dead end at the moment. Without being able to freely wander the castle and grounds, she couldn’t map the pipes and see if the secret chamber lay at the end. She’d have to sneak out during the night to investigate things, while avoiding all prefects and professors.
So, Taylor turned to Luna, whispering under the blankets. She explained what happened, and what she’d heard.
“What about the cloak?” Luna asked.
“What?”
“You said Harry had one, right? What if the Heir took it? Wouldn’t that make sense, since you couldn’t see the Heir?”
Taylor went to sleep feeling a dash of hope. She didn’t know what an invisibility cloak looked like, but it should probably be easy to find among common clothing, right?
And that was how Taylor spent the next days, sneaking bugs into students’ trunks whenever anyone opened one. She got really good at identifying different types of fabric. Taylor also learned that not everyone kept their things clean. More than a few students kept unwashed clothing inside their trunks which made the whole process ickier than it should have been.
On the second day, Taylor got a possible match. One she hadn’t been expecting at all.
Ginny had opened her trunk, and grabbed her diary. Taylor took the opportunity to sneak a fly inside. And at the very bottom, hidden by several other articles of clothing, there was a silvery-grey and fluid piece of fabric. It felt strange to the bug’s touch, light and slippery, almost like water woven into cloth.