Fear of a Name

Chapter Nine: Sir Cadogan

"Ivory, you look really tired," Hermione said to me as she walked into the common room. "Did you sleep at all last night?"
I shook my head and replied, "No, I couldn't sleep so I came down here and read Intermediate Transfiguration, and by the time I had finished it was five in the morning."
"You read the whole book?"
"Yep."
Hermione smiled. "Sounds like I'm going to have some competition in class!"

Just then, Harry and Ron came down the stairs as well.
"Morning, you two," Ron said, yawning.
"Ron, you can't seriously be tired? It's eight o'clock!" I said incredulously.
"Well I am. Let's go to breakfast, I'm starving."

We walked down to the great hall, Ron still yawning, and saw Malfoy with a group of Slytherins. As we passed, Malfoy did this ridiculous swooning impression, and the Slytherins all laughed loudly.
"Ignore him," said Hermione. "Just ignore him, it's not worth it..."
"Hey, Potter!" shrieked a girl with a face like a pug. "Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! Woooooooo!"
I silently sent a stunning spell at her, before following Harry, Ron, and Hermione into breakfast and sitting down by two of Ron's brothers — identical twins.

"New third-year timetables. McGonagall said that she already has hers," said the twin that Harry was sitting next to, indicating to me and passing the timetables to the trio. "What's up with you, Harry?"
"Malfoy," said Ron, glaring over at the Slytherin table.
Both twins looked over to Malfoy just as he was pretending to faint with terror again. "That little git," the first twin said calmly. "He wasn't so cocky last night when the Dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn't he, Fred?"
"Nearly wet himself," Fred agreed.

I blocked out the rest of the conversation, wondering again what Father and Mother's reaction would be when I told them how I had been sorted. I was sure it would be painful, and would probably also add to the collection of scars and bruises on my body. I thought of the last time my father had punished me directly, and shuddered as I remembered how I had genuinely feared for my life that day.

"Ivory, you haven't eaten anything again!" said Ginny, sitting down next to me and pulling me from my thoughts. "You need to eat, you didn't have anything at dinner yesterday either."
"I'm not hungry, Ginny," I muttered, before turning to Hermione, Ron and Harry. "We'd better go, look, Divination's at the top of the North Tower, it'll take us ten minutes to get there..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There's — got — to — be — a — short — cut," Ron panted as we climbed our seventh staircase and emerged in another corridor, where there was nothing but a painting of a bare stretch of grass hanging on the stone wall.
"I think it's this way," said Hermione, looking down an empty passage to our right.
"Can't be," said Ron. "That's south. Look, you can see a bit of the lake outside the window..."

Harry and I were both watching the painting. A fat, dappled-grey pony had just walked slowly onto the grass and started eating it. A moment later, a short knight in a suit of armour had clanked into the picture after his pony. By the look of the grass stains on his metal knees, he had just fallen off.
"Aha!" he yelled, seeing Harry, Ron, Hermione, and me. "What villains are these, that trespass upon my private lands! Come to scorn at my fall, perchance? Draw, you knaves, you dogs!"

We watched in astonishment as he pulled his sword out of its scabbard and began waving it about, but the sword was too long for him; a particularly wild swing made him topple over, and he landed face down in the grass.
"Are you all right?" said Harry, moving closer to the picture, while I tried to stifle my laughter.
"Get back, you scurvy braggart! Back, you rogue!"
The knight grabbed his sword again and used it to push himself back up, but in doing so the blade was pushed into the grass, and he couldn't get it out again. Finally, after much pulling, he had to flop back down onto the grass and push up his visor to mop his sweating face.

"Listen," said Harry, taking advantage of the knight's exhaustion, "we're looking for the North Tower. You don't know the way, do you?"
"A quest!" The knight's mood changed immediately from rage and exhaustion to excitement. He got to his feet and shouted, "Come follow me, dear friends, and we shall find our goal, or else shall perish bravely in the charge!"
He tried and failed to mount the fat pony, gave up, and cried, "On foot then, good sirs and gentle ladies! On! On!"
I looked at Ron and whispered, "What a nutcase," then turned back to the painting just in time to see the knight running into the left side of the frame and out of sight.

We all ran quickly after him, watching as he ran from painting to painting, sometimes yelling things like, "Be of stout heart, the worst is yet to come!"
Puffing loudly, we climbed some tightly spiraling steps, getting dizzier and dizzier, until at last I heard the murmur of voices above us, and I knew that we had finally arrived at the classroom.
"Farewell!" cried the knight. "Farewell, my comrades-in-arms! If ever you have need of noble heart and steely sinew, call upon Sir Cadogan!"
"Yeah, we'll call you," muttered Ron as the knight disappeared, "if we ever need someone mental."

I giggled quietly as we climbed the last few steps and emerged onto a tiny landing, where most of the class was gathered, waiting to go into the classroom. There were no doors in sight, but I saw Ron nudge Harry and point to the ceiling; there was a circular trapdoor with a brass plaque on it.
"Sibyll Trelawney, Divination teacher," Harry read. "How're we supposed to get up there?"
As soon as he had said these words, the trapdoor suddenly opened, and a silvery ladder landed right at Harry's feet. Everyone stopped talking at once.
"After you," said Ron, grinning, so Harry climbed the ladder first, with me following close behind.