The Founders

Chapter 29

The morning passed uneventfully, Grace and Kyra heading outside for Care of Magical Creatures with the other Slytherins and huddling in the cold. It was the sort of morning where the sky was a brilliant, blazing blue which faded to white on the horizon, stretching from one mountainside to another.

Hot breath turned to frost as the group of students stood beside Hagrid's old hut, chatting cheerfully and attempting to draw a sketch of a particularly ugly creature called a licket; a tiny, snub-nosed goblin which liked setting traps for humans in the forest.

They had each been given one to draw, but about half of the lickets had already made a break for it and gone racing back to the forest on their stubby, mud-coloured legs. Their previous owners seemed unconcerned by this exodus and had mostly gathered round the pumpkin patch, empty and dug up now, leaning against the fences and resuming conversation.

Tom Brentworth, the groundskeeper who was covering this class in Professor Arnold's place, seemed equally unconcerned and had instead broken into Hagrid's hut, attempting to make a cup of tea. As Kyra told Grace surreptitiously, the tea bags were in the bottom left draw; Tom just needed to root around a little more if he wanted to find them.

Once Kyra's own licket had decided that it had had enough, bit her hand and went haring off into the forest, Kyra decided to give up the class as a lost cause. She wished Grace luck and walked quickly back up to the castle, shielding her eyes against the glare. Walking through the empty corridors and up the moving staircases, she made it to the fourth-floor staff room and knocked. Professor Brockett came to the door, smoking a long, thin pipe.

"Yes? Can I help you, Ms Chen?"

"Could I speak to Professor Gribble, please?" She put on her best, polite voice, not wanting to annoy Brockett further, who had been annoyed at her ever since she'd insisted on switching duelling partners, and increasingly irritated with Kyra's subsequent lack of work.

Professor Gribble came to the door, her robes soil-smeared and smelling vaguely of dragon fertiliser. Kyra asked for the catch-up work for the last few weeks, so that she could try and make it up over the holidays. At least if she started with Herbology, it was a subject that she enjoyed; she wasn't yet sure if she could face the catch-up work for Transfiguration.

The bell rang as she left the staff room, laden with notes and essay titles from the last few weeks. Students spilled into the corridors, making her route down the stairs to the courtyard much more difficult. Finally reaching the courtyard, which was much busier today thanks to the beautiful weather, she found Grace already next to their usual column, eating an apple. She came to a stop in front of her, balancing the notes on her hip.

Grace gave her a sour look. "You left me to fend for myself."

Kyra readjusted the notes in one hand, taking the apple that Grace was offering in her other. "How so? You seemed fine when I left."

"Yes, well. That was before Tom suddenly decided to take his job a bit more seriously and make us all go collect the lickets which had escaped. Apparently, these ones are a different species to the lickets in the forest so we had to find them all before they started murdering the ones already there." Grace started forward as a group left one of the benches beside the central fountain and claimed it, speaking over her shoulder.

Kyra followed her to the bench. "So did you find them all?" Kyra asked, crossing her legs underneath her on the bench and setting down the notes.

"Ha. Funny you should ask." Grace gave Kyra another unimpressed look. "The little trolls had already made traps for us by the time we reached the forest." She paused for dramatic effect. "To catch them, we had to spring the traps." Kyra tried not to laugh as Grace used her hands to gesture the full magnitude of her suffering. "I had to let myself fall into a pit while Evan, the idiot, tried to catch it before it gouged my eyes out." Evan Peters was a boy with an unfortunate reputation for letting grindylows loose during a DADA lesson last year. As it turned out, they could walk on land.

"Your eyes seem pretty intact to me," Kyra noted, her own eyes scanning the courtyard. People were milling about in the sun, enjoying one of the last days of term. A couple lounged against each other, leaning on the windowsill of a small stone folly. She looked back at Grace, amused at her glare. There was a sharp bubble of happiness in her chest at just being able to spend time normally again with Grace, with any of her friends. She hadn't felt herself at all for the last few weeks.

"Evan eventually managed to catch it," Grace was saying, "so we were allowed to leave on time. The rest of the class is probably still out there. Hiding from the legions of lickets waiting to attack."

"It sounds like a limerick," she said. She leaned back cheerfully, widening her arms at Grace. "There once was a legion of lickets/ they hid in a place full of thickets. /When Grace full of haste went a-running away/ they followed with screeches of 'nay, not today!'/ and chased her right down to the picket (fence)."

Grace shook her head, crossing her arms. "That is a terrible poem, Kyra. I hate to say it, but you'll never be a poet."

"That is a fantastic poem, don't lie to me."

The bell rang for the end of break and they left for Charms, Kyra bracing herself to find out what the catch-up work would be.