Girls’ Changing Room – 7 – Mist and Maledictor by Maeryn Lamonte – Copyright © 2021

-oOo-
Lori didn’t sleep long, waking some time before dawn. Anneka was still sleeping and a gentle buzzing noise from Hortensia’s bed suggested she had a mild snoring problem. Lori padded quietly over to her desk and climbed up to look through the frosted panes of the window. The moon must still have been up because the mist filled the sky with a faint silvery sheen. Far below, the surface of the lake lay black and still like a pool of spilt ink, otherwise there wasn’t much to see.

She hadn’t thought to hunt out her slippers, and despite the wooden desk being considerably warmer than the stone floor, her feet still hurt from the early morning cold. She was on the verge of returning to her bed when she caught sight of an indistinct shape floating in the mist. It looked a little like a robed and cowled person, except that it was floating about fifty feet above the lake. As she watched, it drifted towards the castle, bouncing off the invisible barrier around where the mist was held at bay. At the point of contact, a thin wisp of the whitness broke through and drifted towards her.

Lori clambered back down off her desk, pulled on her slippers and dressing gown and headed through to the common room where she found a short, plump figure standing on a chair and stretching to look out of one of the high windows.

"Professor Sprout?"

"Good morning Lori." The professor's voice held none of its usual cheer.

“I just saw something in the mist.”

“Yes, I’ve been watching them for a while now.”

"What are they?"

"It's hard to be sure, dear." The professor climbed down from her perch and forced a smile. "Would you like a cup of tea? I think I can stir a bit of life back into these embers." She reached for a poker and proceeded to do just that.

"They're pushing the mist through the barrier."

Professor Sprout paused, suddenly serious. "Show me."

"The windows are a little lower in our dorm; it's easier to see."

Lori led the professor quietly back to her dorm and helped her up on to her desk. The two watched silently while another ghostly form drifted into the barrier and recoiled. Again, a faint trickle of mist drifted in towards the castle.

"I hadn't spotted that," Professor Sprout whispered. "This is more serious than I thought. Come with me."

"What's happening?" Hortensia murmured.

"Nothing to worry yourself about," the professor told her. "Go back to sleep."

Professor Sprout led the way through the school’s labyrinthine corridors and stairways to an unfamiliar room in an unfamiliar part of the castle. All the teachers were sitting around a large table beside a roaring fire in the largest fireplace Lori had yet seen.

"What's she doing here?" Professor Mugglewump scowled at her.

"She spotted something none of the rest of us did," Professor Sprout said. "Tell them what you saw, love."

Lori cleared her throat nervously. "They're er, they're knocking bits of mist through the barrier. Er, what are they?"

"Never you mind," Mugglewump snapped. "What do you mean, 'knocking bits of mist through the barrier'?"

"When they rebound from it, you can just see a thin trace of white mist moving towards the castle."

Professor McGonagall's lips narrowed to near invisibility. "Well, this explains a lot. They're not just barging into it mindlessly like flies against a window as you said Selwyn." She addressed her remark to the potions master. "It also tells us what happened to Elizabeth. That's Miss Mitchell to you, Lori."

"What did happen to her?" For the first time she noticed the young transfiguration teacher was missing.

"Sit down, Lori."

"Minerva, no!" Professor Sprout said putting an arm around the girl.

"She'll find out when we tell the rest of the school later, Pomona. Lori, I'm very sorry to tell you that Miss Mitchell died in her sleep earlier last night."

Lori's hands leapt to her mouth and Professor Sprout's arm tightened around her shoulders.

"You think it was the mist?"

Professor McGonagall nodded.

"Do you think…" Lori stopped. She couldn't say exactly what had changed in McGonagall's expression, but it warned her off mentioning the Bloodstone. "... those creatures are trying to kill us?" she finished rather lamely.

"It's possible. Lori, I don't want you to be frightened, but it's possible that what we’re seeing out there may be Dementors."

"Impossible!" Mugglewump hit the table with his fist. "There's no such thing anymore. Shacklebolt had them all destroyed. Even Azkaban's empty of them now."

"What else looks like that, Selwyn? And now we know they're acting with a purpose, we can't rule them out as being mindless. Their presence would go a way to explaining the general mood in the school."

"So would the fact that we have fifty-six students unconscious in the infirmary and one d…"

"Selwyn, be silent! Remember who's present."

Fifty-six! Lori had known the situation was bad but that was one in twenty of the school population. And if Miss Mitchell was dead, that meant everyone else was at risk.

"Lori, I'm going to have to ask you to keep that information to yourself," Professor McGonagall said.

"Yes professor."

McGonagall turned to the rest of the room. "Now, Pomona, if you'd take Lori back to her bed, I think it would be good if Filius could give us all a refresher on the Patronus charm."

"Please professor," Lori said. "I won't be able to sleep now. If there's a chance it might help, I'd like to stay and learn."

"Lori, the Patronus charm is very difficult," McGonagall said. "More than half the world's wizards go through their entire lives without successfully casting one."

"Actually," Professor Flitwick said. "Lori has proved to have something of an aptitude for charms. It would do no harm to see what she's capable of."

"It's all right professor." This time it was Neville Longbottom speaking. "I'll practice with her. My Patronus is still pretty good."

"As you like, but don't interfere with the rest of us."

Flitwick went over the basics and whilst he was helping everyone into the proper stance, Neville knelt beside Lori.

"It's quite straightforward," he said. "Just think of the happiest memory you have and let the feeling of the moment fill you while you cast the spell."

"How can you think of anything happy at a time like this?" Lori asked, watching Mugglewump cast his spell to produce a blindingly bright ball of light which shot through the wall without damaging it.

"Well, I have some very upsetting memories from when I was a little younger than you, and I could still find enough happiness to produce one. We all have some moment in our lives that outshines all the others. Take hold of that and give it a try."

There were enough moments from the recent Christmas break, but none of them stood out in her memory like the one that sprung immediately to mind. She recalled the sound of Anneka's laughter, the wind and branches whipping past, the powerful muscles bunching and flexing beneath her. It was like she was in the forest again.

"Expecto patronum!" she cried and waved her wand.

An enormous silvery white unicorn emerged from the tip of her wand, reared high enough for its head and shoulders to disappear into the ceiling and charged off through the wall in pursuit of Mugglewump's silvery ball.

The room fell silent as every eye turned her way.

"Did I do it wrong?" she asked. "Only it didn't look much like Professor Mugglewump's."

The sound of Neville's quiet laughter broke the spell. Professor McGonagall closed her gaping mouth and smiled, the first genuine smile Lori had seen since their return to school. "That was the most impressive thing I have observed from any student in the past ten years. Seventy-five points to Hufflepuff. Do you think you might be able to teach what you’ve learnt to others?”

“Er, I suppose I could give it a go.”

“Then to encourage you to try your best, I’ll offer a further twenty-five points to your house for each student you can teach to do the same. As for the rest of you, if you find me tempted to underestimate a student in the future, remind me of this moment."

They practised for a further half hour until the misty world outside started to brighten. Lori managed to reproduce her unicorn several times. Neville persuaded her to experiment with other happy memories and she found a number that worked just as well and one even better — the moment her father realised who she was and accepted her.

Professor Sprout led her back to her dormitory so she could get dressed.

"Where have you been?" Hortensia asked the moment she was through the door.

"I er, I had to speak to Professor Sprout about something."

"Not starting your period are you?" From the accompanying smirk it was apparent the remark was all spite and no humour. Lori ignored it and hunted through her wardrobe for her uniform. One of her cloaks was missing, specifically the one with the demiguise hair lining.

She looked over to Hortensia who was fully dressed and about to walk out with a cloak over her arm.

“Give it back,” Lori said in a quiet voice.

“Give what back?”

“You know perfectly well what. Give it back or else.”

“Oh this.” Hortensia held up the cloak. “It turns out I forgot to pack mine. I didn’t think you’d mind if I borrowed one. I mean they’re all the same, aren’t they? And we Hufflepuffs need to stick together, don’t we?”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you’d asked first, and they aren’t quite the same. I prefer that one, so why don’t you take this one instead? It hasn’t been worn as much so it’ll look better on you.” Lori retrieved one of her other cloaks from her wardrobe and offered it.

“What if I prefer this one too? What if I just hang on to it?”

“Then I’ll have to call for a prefect and everyone will find out that you’re a thief as well as a liar.”

Hotensia’s superior smirk was back. “I forgot my cloaks and borrowed one. How does that make me a thief and a liar?”

“You were wearing a cloak when you came in last night so you’re lying about forgetting them and you’re a thief because you took that without asking and refused to give it back when I asked. You do know Raphael’s only being friendly with you because he sees you as a way of getting his hands on that? He’ll drop you the minute you give it to him, just like he’ll destroy it as soon as he has a chance.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because it’s no longer his. Professor McGonagall made him give it to me after that stunt he pulled last term. Even if you gave it to him, the house elves would return it to me by tomorrow morning.”

“What’s so special about it anyway?”

“Didn’t he tell you? Doesn’t sound like he sees you as much of a friend. I wonder how he’d react if you went to him and said you couldn’t get it from me.”

“Well, do what you have to, but you might want to check on your friend over there. She hasn’t woken up yet, which is unusual given her early night last night.” She turned and ran out of the room.

Lori’s attention was abruptly on Anneka. she ran over to her friend’s bed, pulled the covers back and had to bite her knuckles to stop herself from screaming. Anneka was deathly pale and lay very still. It took several seconds for Lori to notice the very shallow breaths her friend was taking and several more before she dared touch her forehead. She felt cold and clammy, but the touch roused her enough to move and groan quietly in her sleep. Lori spun on her heels and ran from the room.

“Professor Sprout,” she called as she ran.

“What is it, Lori?” The old professor’s face appeared from a nearby dormitory. “You should be dressed and heading for the Great Hall. Professor McGonagall is going to say something to the whole school at breakfast.”

“It’s Anneka,” Lori gasped. “She won’t wake up and she looks dreadful.”

“Not another one,” the professor muttered, then louder she said, “all right, I’ll take care of her, but you still need to get dressed.”

“And Hortensia took my cloak.”

“Well that hardly matters now does it?”

“But…”

“Get dressed girl and get to the hall. We’ll sort that out later.”

There wasn’t much else to do but what she’d been told. She propped Anikka up so that she was breathing more freely, then pulled the bedclothes up to cover her as best she could. Then she hurriedly washed and changed and ran for the hall. Filch appeared through a wall beside her and yelled at her to stop, but she ignored him.

-oOo-

The Great Hall was barely half full, the least affected being the Slytherin table which was missing less than a tenth of its number. Lori found Hortensia sitting by herself at the Hufflepuff table — the emptiest table in the room. She had a shocked look on her face. Lori approached her.

“Well?”

Hortensia held up a burnt scrap of cloth. “I offered it to him, and he cast confringo on it. He almost burnt me in the process, then he told me to go and sit with the other Hufflepuff losers where I belong. His friends all laughed.”

Lori took the burnt remains of the cloak and dropped them onto the table beside her. She sat next to Hortensia and sighed. There was food, but she didn’t feel that hungry. She picked up a piece of dry toast and started to nibble on it.

“I’m guessing it’s a little late to say sorry,” Hortensia mumbled.

Lori looked at her. She’d been nothing but selfish and unkind since they’d met the previous evening, and now she’d cost Lori her invisibility cloak. From the way everyone else was ignoring her it seemed she’d managed to alienate herself from pretty much every potential friend in Hufflepuff, and she’d done her best to push Lori away too. She didn’t deserve forgiveness, did she?

Lori thought about the reaction she’d had from Hufflepuff when she’d turned up wearing a dress. A lot of the people she now called friends hadn’t been too keen at first, but they’d given her a chance. She looked at her cloak, now a smouldering rag, and made a choice.

“It’s never too late to say sorry,” she said.

Hortensia looked up, her eyes round with surprise. “Do you mean that?”

“As much as you mean it when you say you’re sorry.”

“But I…” She pointed at the cloak.

“It’s only a thing. People matter more. It may take me a while to learn to trust you, but I do forgive you. You didn’t know he was going to this to it.”

“You did tell me.”

“And what reason did you have to believe me? He can be quite the charmer when he tries. Unless you have a reason to look for it, it’s hard to spot that he’s more snake underneath.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be making that mistake again.”

“Not so keen on Slytherin anymore?”

“Are you teasing me?”

“I didn’t mean to. Sorry if it came over that way.”

“I thought I belonged with them. I thought they thought I belonged with them. I guess I’m just the loser who didn’t make the grade.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s what my parents think. They told me as much. Sent me a howler the day after I was sorted. Never been so ashamed, they said.”

“Shows how much they know. I mean I hated it at first, but I’ve come to appreciate being in Hufflepuff. My great grandfather was in Hufflepuff, you know? Newt Scamander?”

Hortensia snorted. “I won’t tell you what my parents think of him. They think Grindelwald would have made the wizarding world great.”

“What do you think?”

“I, well I… I don’t know if anyone’s ever asked me what I think before.”

“Well? what do you think?”

“I… My parents would say what he did to those Muggles was their own fault, that they should know their place, which is as the servants of us wizards.”

“That’s what your parents think. I’m interested in what you think, or don’t your parents allow you to have your own opinion?”

“You’re making fun of me again.”

“No, I don’t mean to. Hortensia, I’m sorry. I’m only interested…”

Silence descended on the hall as Professor McGonagall stood at the lectern and waited.

“Good morning everyone. As you can see, we’re a little short on numbers this morning. It seems that quite a few more of your friends have fallen ill during the night. Too many for the school infirmary to deal with, so we have rearranged your sleeping quarters a little. Some of the dormitories in every house have been turned into makeshift nursing stations. It will mean that some of you — perhaps most of you — will have to accommodate a move into a different dorm room for the time being. As soon as we can find out what is ailing your friends and affect a cure, we will change arrangements back to the way they were.

“Now I’m not going to insult your intelligence by ignoring the mist currently surrounding Hogwarts. Some of you will already suspect it as being the cause of your schoolmates’ illness. Some of you may have noticed shapes moving about inside the mist. We are not treating this matter lightly and are actively taking measures to deal with the situation. For now, I must insist that all student remain within the castle walls. The protective charms around Hogwarts are currently keeping the mist considerably further away from us, but I do not want anyone of you approaching the mist. To this end I have enlisted the help of the castle ghosts to keep an eye on all of the entrances to the North and the East, and Hagrid will be guarding the covered bridge beyond the clock tower. I hope I don’t need to impress on you that any student caught ignoring these instructions will be dealt with in the most severe manner.”

She paused and looked around her at every student to press the thought home before continuing in a more subdued tone.

“Now I do have some very grave news to impart to you. Sadly, during the night Professor Mitchell passed away in her sleep…”

A shocked groan passed through the room. Even the Slytherin table seemed struck by the revelation, although in some cases the reaction seemed somewhat false.

“At present we do not know what caused her death. It is a great tragedy, and we shall mourn her passing in time. For now, what matters is we keep ourselves occupied. I ask you to bear with us as certain members of the faculty turn their attention to matters relating to your ill friends and the mist surrounding the school. This morning you will attend classes as usual — Hufflepuff and Slytherin, you will have a potions class with Professor Mugglewump first thing, then a history class with Professor Binns after morning break. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, you will have the same classes but in the reverse order. After lunch the whole school — such of you as are awake — will meet in the training ground for sessions practising defensive spells. Most of these will be led by students and I will expect you all to show them the same degree of respect as you would to any professor in the school.

“That is all for the present. Classes begin in thirty minutes. Do not be late.”

She stepped down from the front of the hall and made for the entrance, passing between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables.

“Professor McGonagall,” Lori called out as the head passed.

“Miss Scamander, this is not a good time…” She caught sight of the remains of the invisibility cloak. “Oh, I see.” Her eyes rested on Hortensia who wasn’t able to return her gaze, then swivelled around to look at Raphael, who wisely kept his back to her. “May I see it?” she asked Lori holding out a hand.

“It wasn’t what I wanted to say, but…” She passed over the remains of the cloak.

“Do you have any idea how this happened?”

“It was missing from my wardrobe when I got back to my dorm this morning, then it was just here when I sat down to breakfast.” Most of the truth at least.

McGonagall turned her piercing stare on Lori, who held it, just. “Very well. I’ll keep a hold of it if I may. What was it you wished to say? Be brief, I am busier than usual this morning.”

“I wondered if I could talk to you about you-know-what.”

“I really don’t have time at present, Lori. You should concentrate on your lessons for now and leave other things to us. Is there anything else?”

“Er, this afternoon…”

“You will be one of the students I’ll be asking to lead a session or two. Turn up in the training ground a few minutes early and you will be told what to do. Now if that’s all…” She didn’t really wait for an answer.

“I thought you were going to tell her about me.”

“Then I’d hardly have forgiven you, would I?” Lori smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, we’re okay, and we’ll stay that way as long as you don’t mess with me again.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t, and thanks. I don’t know if I could stare McGonagall down like that. What’s you-know-what?”

“It’s kind of private. Do you mind if I don’t talk about it?” Again, the truth, mostly.

“No, of course not.” Hortensia appeared grateful to have anyone talk to her. “Erm..”

“What?”

“It’s just, I don’t know, maybe it’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway.” Lori took a second piece of toast and buttered it.

“Well, it’s just that when I was talking to Raph yesterday, when I was approaching him and his crowd, I heard him talking about something.”

“What was it?”

“I don’t really know. I heard him say something like, ‘I’m sure that freak followed me last time. As long as he has my cloak, I can never be sure if he’s sneaking around behind me.’ — Raph called you he, I’m sorry. That’s when I said I was sharing with you and could get it for him if he wanted, which is when he invited me into their group. Seems like you were right, and it was the only reason.”

“You’ve been trying to get in with them all this time, haven’t you?”

Hortensia nodded. “My parents were so ashamed of me, I thought if I couldn’t be in Slytherin I could at least have friends from there, but they all looked at me like something you scrape off your shoe.”

“That’s kind of the way you’ve been with everyone in Hufflepuff.”

“I know, and now it’s too late to do anything about it.”

“Don’t be so sure. I mean we’re all about second chances in this house. Look at me, they gave me one before they even knew me.”

“But there’s hardly anyone left.” She looked around at the nearly empty Hufflepuff table. “And the ones I was meanest to are all in the infirmary or the dorms. They’re all going to die before I have a chance to say I’m sorry.”

“What makes you think they’re all going to die?”

“Something Raph said last night. ‘This is just the beginning. First the mudbloods, then the half-bloods. In a few days there won’t be anyone left in this school but us pure-bloods.’

“I don’t know what he’s up to, but it’s bad.”

“And you went along with it?”

“You don’t know what it’s like! My mum and dad are always talking like that, and they’ve always expected me to as well. When I don’t laugh at Dad’s jokes or agree with him whenever he says that mudbloods are the worst thing in the wizarding world, he’s just so mean. It’s always been easier to go along with him.”

“But you don’t agree with him, do you?”

“No.” She looked around, suddenly afraid that something was going to jump out of the shadows and punish her. “To be honest, I don’t think my mum does either, but Dad’s such a bully.”

“Well, your dad’s not here now and I’m definitely not going to tell him you can think for yourself.”

“I don’t deserve this. I was such a… a you know.”

“Yes, but you aren’t any more and that’s what matters. If you want to make it up to me, you could help me find out what Raphael’s up to.”

“I’d be glad to, but I’m not part of their group anymore, remember?”

“I know, but there has to be someone Raph would talk to about it.”

“Well, he fancies Morgana Mulrose.”

“Who?”

“Morgana Mulrose.” Hortensia pointed out a tall, gangly girl sitting as far away from Raphael and his gang as was possible and still be on the Slytherin table.

“What’s to fancy about that?” Lori said wonderingly. “It looks like she could get a full-time job holding up beanstalks.”

“Oh my gosh! Are Hufflepuffs even allowed to talk like that?”

“I don’t see why not. I mean if there was a rule nobody remembered to tell me about it. Besides, we’re not supposed to be in Hufflepuff are we?”

Hortensia giggled.

“Do you think you could get me a strand of her hair?”

“What? Whatever for?”

“So, we can get some payback on Slytherin, Raphael Maledicta in particular.”

“I don’t think you’ve been listening to me. No-one in Slytherin will talk to me. Just because Raphael Maledicta isn’t friends with me doesn’t mean Morgana will give me some of her hair if I ask.”

“I don’t remember saying anything about asking.”

Hortensia grinned. “I had no idea Hufflepuffs could be like this.”

“Have you ever heard of Nymphadora Tonks? I’m told she was one of the worst mischief makers who ever came to Hogwarts. Rivalled even the Weasley twins. She was a Hufflepuff.”

“We should get going if we don’t want to be late for potions.”

“I always want to be late for potions, but I suppose you’re right.”

-oOo-

They headed back to their dormitory and collected their books. The potions classroom was in the dungeon nearby, so they made it in good time. Not soon enough for Mugglewump who gave Lori his usual venomous look.

“Hey Slytherin wannabe,” a voice came from the group of Slytherins nearest the door. “Given up and joined the rest of the freaks?”

“What did you say to me?” Hortensia turned on them staring at one tall girl in particular.

“I didn’t say anything.” Morgana shrugged. “Why would I say anything to you?”

Hortensia had been closing on her. At the last remark she charged, screaming, and wrestled her to the ground.

“What is this? Stop this at once.” Mugglewump tried to intervene and received a foot in the stomach for his efforts. He learnt from it and on his second attempt stayed out of their reach. “Stupefy!” he yelled flourishing his wand and the two girls froze where they were.

While a group of Slytherins pulled Morgana free, Lori moved in to help her newest friend. Her body was rigid, but her eyes were alive and glancing down to her right hand. Lori looked and found a large enough clump of Morgana’s hair that she winced at the thought of how much it must have hurt coming out. She muttered a quiet thanks to her ally and pocketed the sample.

“You two will come and see me as soon as you can stand,” Mugglewump said to the two girls. “Now take them to their dormitories. The rest of you, turn to page five in your books and start preparing the ingredients. Today we’ll be reviewing the sleeping draught, and I expect you all to do a lot better than your pitiful effort last term.”

A couple of Hufflepuff boys reluctantly helped Lori carry Hortensia back to her bed and left her to settle her in.

“This is perfect,” Lori said, retrieving the hair from her pocket. “Sorry it landed you in Mugglewump’s bad books. I wish you’d waited for Binn’s lesson; he may not even have noticed you and Morgana scrapping. I’ll check up on you later.”

She ran off to re-join the potions class and for once made an effort.

Hortensia and Morgana were back on their feet shortly before the end of the class. Mugglewump yelled at them both, stripped Slytherin and Hufflepuff of fifty house points each and told them to come back at lunchtime.

On the way to Binns’ classroom Lori passed Hortensia a flask.

“What’s this?”

“Sleeping potion. It turned out pretty well this time. Even Mugglewump couldn’t find anything to criticise about it. Just in case he finds a reason to let Morgana off at lunchtime, do you think you could find a way of giving this to her?”

“I’ve a better idea. Leave it to me.”

In the history of magic classroom, Hortensia followed Morgana and sat beside her, making apologetic overtures as she did so. The Slytherin girl tried to ignore her and move away, but Binns’ ghostly form was already standing in front of the class indicating they should sit.

He was his usual scintillating self and before the class was ten minutes in, pretty much everyone had fallen into a dull stupor. Lori had adopted Professor McGonagall's approach and read through the chapter being covered. It was on the history of Azkaban Prison and should have been riveting, but Binns had the capacity to turn even the most fascinating topics into a cure for insomnia.

Somehow Hortensia managed to stay awake too. Twenty minutes in. Morgana was snoring gently with her head tipped back. In one deft move, Hortensia unstoppered the flask of sleeping draught and poured it into the Slytherin girl’s mouth. She roused a little as the liquid reached the back of her throat, but reflexes took over and she swallowed. Another two minutes and she had her head cushioned in her arms and was snoring deeply.

Lori couldn’t help but admire Hortensia’s audacity. She shook her head and turned back to her book. She’d all but finished her reading and note taking and there was still a long half hour to go till the end of this particular torture. If she wasn’t careful, she’d be in the same shape as Morgana come lunchtime.

There was nothing for it. Desperate times called for desperate measures. She put her hand up and called out, “Professor Binns?”

Binns was slow to react as usual, but he did turn and peer myopically at the raised hand. “Yes, er Newton isn’t it?”

“Lori sir. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Bloodstone?” She sensed people rousing at her question. One individual in particular being Raphael Maledicta. She wondered if she’d been rash to raise the question in public, but it was done now.

“Hmm. wherever did you come across that reference, Newton?”

“It’s Lori sir. I read it somewhere I suppose.” True enough. It had been on the side of a box.

“Well, I suppose it is relevant to today’s topic. Er, let’s see. Yes, we’ve been talking about Azkaban as a prison, but it wasn’t always the place it is today. Do you know how it began, Newton?”

“Lori sir.” She tried one last time to correct the ghostly teacher. If he was going to insist on seeing her as her great grandfather, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. She wondered idly if he’d actually been alive when great grandpa Newt had been at Hogwarts. “No sir, I don’t.”

“Well, no-one knows for certain unfortunately. There’s no record of the existence of the island before the fourteen hundreds, then all of a sudden we find reports in both Muggle and wizarding records of a mysterious mist covering a large area of the North Sea. A mist which brought on a great malaise and sent any wizard or witch brave enough to enter it utterly mad. Muggle sailors unfortunate enough to enter the mist never returned.

“It wasn’t until some fifty or sixty years later that the mist began to dissipate and its effects to weaken. The Muggle sailors remained wary of the region, but a few brave wizards ventured into it and found, at its centre, an island that existed on no charts and a fortress none had heard of. Those who entered it came out so appalled by what they found there that none of them ever spoke of it. From the documents recovered we know the name of the sorcerer who dwelt there was Ekrizdis. The only thing any of the wizards who investigated the fortress would say was he was a monster, the darkest of wizards. No-one knows where he came from though some unconfirmed reports suggest he was Eastern European in origin.

“The fortress remained abandoned for many years. Simply to enter the place was to be filled with an unutterable despair and to remain for any length of time was to put your very soul at risk, for the fortress was infested with creatures never before seen in the world. Named Dementors by the first wizards to investigate, many speculated whether they might have been conjured by Ekrizdis or drawn there from some unknown realm by the sheer abject misery of the place.

“Wizards debated over what must be done with the fortress for many years. Many felt it was too evil and had to be destroyed. Many more were afraid that the evil of the place was so great it would seek out vengance on those who destroyed it. More still worried about what would happen to the Dementors who had remained attached to the fortress following its discovery.

“Eventually, towards the end of the seventeenth century when the International Statute of Secrecy was drawn up, a controversial decision was made to convert Azkaban into a prison, which is the context in which we’re talking about it today.”

“Er, sir. The Bloodstone sir?”

“Oh yes of course, how silly of me, Newton. Completely forgot your question. It was discovered at the heart of the fortress. A blood red stone of irregular form from which exuded a fine mist. The Dementors seemed to feed off it as much as they did the misery of those they encountered. High level wizards from the Ministry removed it and hid it in a place where no-one might find it. The Dementors seemed unaffected by its departure; they seemed quite content to feed off of the wretchedness of the poor souls confined within the prison walls, many of whom became quite mad from the experience.”

“Why didn’t the ministry destroy the stone, professor?”

“A fair question, Newton. it was an artefact of considerable power and great evil. There is always a risk associated with the destruction of such things, not only to the individual attempting the feat, but to anyone else nearby. It was felt the safest thing to do was to store it away. It is safe enough.”

“What could it do sir?”

“Hmm? Hard to say. If Ekrizdis kept notes of his experiments, there is no record of their having been found on the island.”

“What do you think, sir?”

“I think it's foolish to speculate. History is about facts, Newton. If you don’t know you need to have the courage to say so. Don’t just make things up. That’s just stories.

“Goodness me, is that the time? Class dismissed.” with that he turned and walked through his blackboard leaving almost the entire class awake and wide eyed.

A few Slytherins tried to rouse Morgana but left her when she didn’t respond. Hortensia caught up with Lori as she was leaving the class.

“Is that what you think this is then?” she asked. “This mist and those things in it. It’s the Bloodstone, isn’t it?”

“I think it may be, yes. You’d better get to your detention. If Mugglewump asks about Morgana…”

“I haven’t seen her, I know. What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to try and find out what Raphael knows.”

-oOo-

She had it all planned. Students tended to stay away from the history of magic classroom unless their timetables told them they had to be there. It seemed steeped in a sort of residual tedium from all the dull years Binns had been droning forth from the front. It meant the place was empty but for Morgana and herself.

Lori started by undressing the tall girl, stripping her down to her underwear. Then she dragged her into one of the classroom storage cupboards and locked her in. It would be a safe enough place to keep her until she was ready to switch back.

She pulled the bottle of polyjuice potion out of her book bag where she'd secreted it earlier and added Morgana's hairs. Aware that she could have helped herself from the sleeping girl's head she murmured an apology to Hortensia for the trouble she'd led her into.

The potion tasted just as foul as Anneka — or perhaps Professor Longbottom through Anneka — had promised; something like over-boiled greens. The sensation of changing was indescribable and disconcerting, as was the feeling of looking down at her own stick thin body from a full foot higher than normal. Weirdest of all was the way her body felt so different. Nothing between her legs for once. She was tempted to look but decided that wouldn't be right. For all that she resembled a rake, her hips felt a mile wide and the way they moved when she walked felt entirely strange.

She slipped into Morgana's clothes, hid her own and made her way down to the Great Hall for lunch. She fought off the urge to join the few remaining Hufflepuffs and made her way over to the Slytherin table.

"I thought you had detention with Mugglewump."

She shrugged. "It was obvious it was that Skunk girl's fault. Mugglewump let me off with a warning."

"I thought you were going to sleep the day away in Binns' classroom."

"What's new? He has to be the most boring person in existence."

"But you were out for the count. We tried to wake you."

"So? It must have worked, 'cos I'm awake. Do you mind if I eat?"

They left her alone and she munched her way through a couple of sandwiches, all the while aware of Raphael glancing over in her direction. By the time she'd finished eating, she was convinced Raph was onto her. She stood up and walked out of the hall wondering what had gone wrong. Had she overplayed her hand in Binns' class?

"Morgana, wait up." It was Raphael.

"What do you want?" she snapped, unable to stop herself. Something about him left her with a desire to be a long way away.

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. You know, go for a walk or something?"

Play it cool Lori, she told herself. "Well, I was planning on taking a stroll anyway…"

"Great, I'll join you. I-if you don't mind that is." He was pathetic.

"If you have to," she sighed. She couldn't afford to depart too far from Morgana's normal behaviour, besides the more she kept Raphael off balance, the better her chances of getting him to reveal something.

Besides besides, it was fun watching him squirm.

She made her way across the viaduct and through to the middle courtyard. It was popular with Hogwarts students seeking outside entertainment but still large enough that they could walk and talk in relative privacy. The last thing Lori wanted was to be somewhere completely alone with Maledicta but the second to last thing was to be overheard, and the place seemed like a good compromise.

"So, what do you think that's all about?" She nodded at the milky white sky visible above them.

"The mist? No idea."

She stopped abruptly, Raph following suit a second later.

"I've changed my mind. I don't think I feel like walking after all."

"What? Why?"

Lori turned and headed back the way she had come with Raphael capering alongside her. "What was it you said last night?" she asked. "'This is just the beginning? First the mudbloods then the half-bloods?' I thought you knew something, but you just like the sound of your own voice, don't you?"

"I do know things though."

Lori paused momentarily, keeping Raphael off balance both literally and figuratively, then kept walking. "You are such a disappointment, you know?"

"I stole the Bloodstone!"

She paused again and twitched an eyebrow at him.

"You know? That thing the Scamander freak was banging on about in Binns' class?"

"I don't remember much of Binns' class."

"That's all right 'cos Binns didn't know much anyway."

"And I suppose you do?"

Raphael gave her a knowing and all too self-satisfied smirk.

“The Bloodstone is a bridge between realms. It was found by this genius warlock called Ekrizdis. He discovered its power when he cut his hand on it. It absorbed his blood and started giving off this strange mist."

"That doesn't sound all that clever."

"His genius," Raph scowled, "was in understanding what it all meant. That the mist came from a different realm, which he called the Realm of Mists. That blood on the stone opened a doorway between the other realm and ours. That the mist drew any who touched it towards the stone.

“He sensed a presence on the other side and tried adding more blood. The mist thickened and eventually this ghostly creature came through and attacked him, seeking to suck his very soul from his body, but he had a mighty will and resisted, creating a light of his own in the mist’s gloom, driving the creature from him.”

“The first Dementor.”

“And the first Patronus.

“He knew he needed a place of seclusion to experiment, so he created Azkaban, using his great will and powerful magic to draw the very sea bottom up to the surface, creating the island upon which he built his fortress, then he set to with his studies.

“He drew enough of the mist from the stone to entice a large ship to his shores, wrecked it and bled the sailors dry, channelling the flow of blood into the stone until it had produced such a mist that it surrounded the island for miles in every direction. The portal he opened to the other realm permitted more Dementors to come through, and these he fed with the souls of the mariners who continued to be drawn to his shores.

“Binns was wrong when he said that it sent wizards mad. It had just the same effect on them as it did on the Muggle seamen who entered it, merely drawing them to the centre where the Dementors waited to feed. Ekrizdis was cunning though. He knew that if wizards were to disappear then more would come, so he made them subjects of his experiments, drove them mad himself before releasing them beyond the mist.

"Ekrizdis believed that Muggles were born to serve the wizarding world and it galled him that they should be permitted to walk free while witches and warlocks were hunted to their deaths, defeated not because they were weaker but because they were so much fewer in number. His primary goal was to find a way to bend them to our will, to make them slaves as they should be, and if he couldn’t do that then he would find a way to kill them all.

“He experimented with the stone, altering it through hexes and dark incantations in an attempt to change the nature of the mist it gave out. Making it deadly he found simple enough, but then making it discriminate between Muggles and purebloods proved more of a challenge. Eventually he created a spell that did just that. He called it Mors Mundani — Death of the Ordinary. It doesn't just affect Muggles but anyone or anything with less than half magical heritage. The mist sticks to the inside of their lungs so that it doesn’t matter how hard they breathe it doesn't do them any good. The less magic they have the quicker they die."

“And that’s what this mist is? First the mudbloods then the half-bloods?"

“Exactly! And I helped release it!”

“Why didn’t this Ekridis do that?”

“That was his one mistake. He felt killing the Muggle world was a waste. He wanted them enslaved so they could pay us back for all the deaths they had caused with their witch hunts. He held Mors Mundani in reserve for if ever the Muggles found a way to attack him on his island, but he continued his experiments, seeking a way to turn them into mindless slaves.

"How do you know all this?"

"I’ve seen the book. My mother’s family founded a secret society called the Order of Purity after one of mother’s forebears, who was among the first wizards to visit Azkaban after Ekridis' death, found the warlock's grimoire — called the Regnum Caligo — and took it. He wasn't able to recover the Bloodstone though, and the Order has been searching for it for hundreds of years, waiting to get their hands on it. When they discovered it was being held at Hogwarts, mother insisted I be allowed to join the Order — the youngest member since its inception — so I could take advantage of being here.

“The Regnum Caligo lists all the experiments Ekridis performed. After he created the Mors Mundani, he turned his efforts on the Dementors themselves, seeking to change them as he had the stone. In their case his spells altered them so that they sapped the will of whoever they attacked rather than their life force.

“The Dementors didn’t take kindly to the change. His last entries speak of them becoming increasingly restless. He altered them more so that they might feed off misery and despair, but still they turned on him. His last entry is a near illegible scribble that reads, ‘They’re coming. So many, I don’t think I can hold them off.’

“His corpse was found beside the grimoire, little more than skin and bone with everything else sucked out of him.”

“So, he really wasn’t that much of a genius after all.”

“The downfall of every genius is hubris, at least that’s what my dad says. He thought he was clever enough to mess with the Dementors and get away with it. He was wrong, and The Order has learnt from his mistake. The Order believes that the wizarding world is being held back by tainted blood, that our mixing with Muggles makes us weak. Ekrisdis was so fixated on enslaving them he didn’t see that we don’t need them at all. We’ve known for a long time that the answer was to release the Mors Mundani. All the Muggles will be wiped out, along with all the half-bloods and mudbloods and the world will belong to pure wizarding kind as it should. All that was needed was the Stone and I stole that last term.”

"So what now? The mist continues to spread until it covers the whole world?"

“No, that would be a bad idea. Remember, the greater the mist the bigger the portal, and that will mean more Dementors. Original Dementors too, ones that suck your life rather than your soul. The stone was placed into a cauldron full of blood, enough to create a fog that covers about ten square miles — that’s about three miles in every direction from the centre.”

“How long will it last?”

“As far as we know, until it’s dispelled.”

“And how does one do that?”

“Apparently you need the box for that.”

Lori gave him a quizzical look.

“When I was sent to steal the stone, no-one mentioned that I should take the box as well. The stone was easy enough to hide, but the box was this big,” he held out his hands demonstrating just how big. “Quite heavy and made out of stone. I left it behind.”

“That’s a bit stupid.”

“It’s not my fault. They didn’t tell me they needed it. It’s fine though, I’ll get it tonight and we should be able to stop the attack whenever we want, once all the mudbloods and half-bloods have died.”

Lori fought to control her expression. "And how do you think you're going to get it out of Hogwarts?" She waved at the mist wall.

"You forget, purebloods aren't affected by the mist. I can walk out of here any time I like. So can you. What do you say? Do you want to be a part of making the world a better place?"

“What about the Dementors?”

“What Dementors?”

Lori rolled her eyes. “You said yourself when you pour blood on the stone it opens a portal that allows the mist through, and that it lets Dementors through too.”

“But that’s the clever part. You see we’ve used Ekrisdis’ research to work out how much blood will open the portal without letting the Dementors in, which is why it’s only this big.”

“So how come there are Dementors floating about in the fog?”

“There aren’t. There can’t be. We calculated this precisely.” He looked at the mist wall.

Lori realised she’d only seen them at night. With the Slytherin common room and dormitories down in the dungeons where there were no windows, Raphael would never have seen the mist at night. Neither would Morgana for that matter.

“So why does McGonagall have us learning defensive spells this afternoon?”

“She’s just trying to scare us into staying away from the mist. Besides, the only thing that defends against a Dementor is the Patronus charm and what’s the chances of a first-year learning something that complicated.”

“Oh!” Lori’s eyes went wide. How could she have forgotten? She was supposed to be doing just that after lunch, but not as Morgana Mulrose.

“What?” Raphael asked.

“Nothing,” she said fighting to control the rising panic inside her. Raphael had said pretty much all he had to say; it was time to go and deal with the next problem. “I’ll tell you what Raph, you go and find this box of yours and take it for a walk in the mist if that’s what you have to do. If you make it to the other side, then by all means come and find me again. Right now, I’m not interested.”

She turned and walked swiftly away leaving Raph in a worried and pensive mood.

The great bell tolled as she made her way out of the middle courtyard. Fifteen minutes before the afternoon was due to begin. A mad idea filled her head. She needed to find her brother and fast. She broke into a run.