Dragon's Core

Chapter Five- The Mallet of Trust

Chapter Five

The Mallet of Trust

                Classes proceeded as normal. –Or they would have, if it weren’t for the stacks of hate mail she received almost daily –delivered by angry, swooping owls of all breeds, colours and sizes. The martial eagle Corin had dubbed as Sterling had taken to gliding overhead during the hour that mail was delivered, and rebutted the attacks that the irate owls attempted to deliver. Admittedly, Corin had grown immensely fond of the bird and had taken to feeding him slices of meat and sausages at meals.

But one thing that Sterling couldn’t protect Corin from was the vicious rumours that were fluttering around the school like a disease. Along with a few other students who had been chosen to attend the Triwizard Tournament, Corin was ridiculed on a daily basis, mocked in class by classmates who whispered foul things every time Corin raised her hand to answer or ask a question, constantly having to watch her back in the hallways in case someone attempted to stick a bit of gum in her hair, or paste a crude note on her back –Corin even made the effort to complete all her work in class just to avoid Study Hall. The first few times Corin had attempted to attend Study Hall, she had been challenged to at least five duels by jealous classmates in her year.

On top of that, Viktor Krum insistently hovered just beyond arm’s length, seemingly not far from her heels at meals, in the hallways, and when she and Stefan studied in the library. Corin was beginning to grow agitated with his constant presence, but didn’t have the heart to send him away.

“He hasn’t done anything to me!” Corin defended, as Stefan expressed his developing displeasure with the Quidditch player. Stefan had scowled in response, and gruffly replied, “Not yet, anyway.”

                Nonetheless, Corin found herself at the end of her History of Magic class, pretending that all her book had fallen out of her satchel, and she was slowly putting them back in an attempt to avoid her classmates.

Professor Polinkov frowned at her over his circular frames.

 “Oi –Oblansk. Hurry it up!” He barked at her impatiently, the grey whiskers on his face seemed to bristle with agitation. Corin fumbled with the clasp of her bag for a moment longer, before slinging the satchel over her shoulder in a disheartened manner. Professor Polinkov regarded her for a moment, as she crossed the classroom.

“Come here, Oblansk,” he ordered sharply. Corin turned on her heel, and looked up at her old Professor hopefully. Professor Polinkov snorted at her obvious desperateness. “Stand up for yourself, Oblansk. Next time one of those little brats try to stick something on your back in class, I’ll close my eyes if you want to hex them.”

Corin exhaled, and gazed at him thankfully, “Thank you, Professor. It means a lot.”

Professor Polinkov grunted, “Now get out of here –and,” his expression softened just barely, “make Durmstrang proud at the Tournament.”

“I’ll do my best,” Corin promised him, a small smile curling her lips. She hurried from the classroom, afraid if she stuck around any longer, he’d take back what he had said.

Blissfully, the hallways were vacant –the time she had taken to fiddle with her satchel and speak to Professor Polinkov proved worthwhile. She walked the halls with a leisure pace, assured that everyone was already at supper.

“Corin Oblansk.”

Almost everyone, that is.

                Corin turned on her heel to face the man. Viktor Krum, who had been hiding behind a pillar emerged –and he looked, surprisingly, embarrassed.