Bab 78: Year Four - Chapter Five
There was nothing more damning than watching the things crawl about, without mouths, but with stingers or blood-sucking extremities. Since we were supposed to feed them, but I cared about my fingers very much, I quietly would let the pieces float with my fingers and then push them wherever I could over the extremities of the monsters. I couldn't, however, make the tiny baby monsters float.
"Hagrid," I said, "Just how did you convince a Manticore and a Fire Crab to have these babies together?"
Hagrid laughed, awkwardly looking away with his giant size. "Aye, that there's a question I'mma not gonna answer."
I raised an eyebrow. "Magic?"
He blinked. "Aye. Let's go with that one."
I looked at the small creatures. They had to have come out of an egg of sorts, so I reckoned that the Firecrabs were the birth mothers. The horrendous, horrific images of a Manticore and a Firecrab together made me quietly turn my eyes towards the beauty of Hogwarts' lake, and of Hogwarts' trees, and of Hogwarts' blades of grass. Thus, I nearly missed a Blast-Ended Skrewt's explosion that risked taking off a couple of Wayne's fingers. I nearly missed it, but since I didn't I snapped my fingers to pry the boy's hands open and let the creature fall down, before its inevitable explosion.
"Keep an eye on their backs," I said. "If they turn crimson, they're about to blow and you don't want to be holding them when they explode."
"Thanks Shade," Wayne said, flexing his fingers.
"Hey, look, I'm a gunslinger!" Amanda said, grabbing hold of two Skrewts by their midriffs and holding their backs in our general direction. "Pew-pew, pew!" as she mimicked those sounds, I watched, warily, the two Skrewts' backsides. Since neither were turning crimson, I reckoned they'd be fine.
"Please put down the extremely dangerous magical hybrids, Amanda," I said charmingly. "They are not good for your health."
She rolled her eyes, but obeyed. Hagrid, meanwhile, was cuddling one. Was he going to do the lesson or was he expecting me to do it for him? Where was my salary then? How much would I get paid for it?
It had become the implicit understanding of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that during Care for Magical Creatures, my word was as much of a law for self-preservation as Hagrid's was one for incredible body-harm. When Hagrid would say to touch the cute little monster's lower mouth, I would quietly float sticks to let them poke at it instead. I was their savior, their limb-preserver. I was the hero they didn't know they could have, the silent protector, the watchful professor-assistant and the dark knight of the holy Infirmary.
After such an hour, Transfiguration lesson with the Hufflepuffs was still a welcomed sight.
"Today, we will be practicing the transformation of a Hedgehog into a Pincushion," professor McGonagall said, her voice stern and tight. Her eyes roved over us all, and settled on mine in particular. "Mister Umbrus, I see you have come prepared."
As soon as she had mentioned the word 'Hedgehog' I had pulled out a pair of thick goggles and my hard helmet from my bag. "Professor," I said with a slow nod, "May I put these on?"
"Very well, Mister Umbrus," the professor said. "Remember that while similar in appearance, quills and needles still require a specific variant in their viciousness, while the Hedgehogs, themselves, need not just be changed of material, but also rendered inanimate."
I put on the protective gear, settling myself in a comfortable mind-space. I extended my left hand and gingerly pushed Amanda further away from her seat by my side, where she was literally breathing down my neck, and finally touched the delicate and happy looking hedgehog with the tip of my wand.
The tiny, adorable creature made a squeak, and then turned into a cushion with quills.
I held my breath, and transfigured it back.
It became a hedgehog with needles.
"Right," I muttered, "At least you aren't exploding." The hedgehog squeaked, looking at me with tender, lovable eyes. "I'm not getting attached," I said in a murmur. "You might not survive the next transfiguration." The hedgehog moved on adorable little legs, letting the needles twinkle ever so slightly. I took a deep breath, whispered a small prayer to whatever God existed, and then tapped the hedgehog's snout.
It turned into a pincushion. A pincushion with needles on its back too, so it meant that the spell had actually worked, and on the third try. Not on the hundredth, the thousandth, or the millionths; it had worked on the third try.
"That will be ten points for Ravenclaw, Mister Umbrus," Professor McGonagall said, looking at me slightly less sternly. "Though I suppose the handling of points will be rendered once more moot before the year's end, I suspect?" she sighed.
"I can't guarantee that, professor," I acquiesced.
"Very well," the professor sighed. Thus, the transfiguration lesson came to an end, and our Herbology lessons were done together with the Slytherin, trying to squeeze bubotuber pus out of the magical plants.
All in all, it was a normal start of the week.
As the afternoon free time hit me, I disappeared from sight. I swung by the kitchens, waved at the House Elves, and plummeted down the garbage chute with a Bubblehead charm and an impervius to keep the dirt away. My feet landed on the sewer level, and as I followed the path I remembered, I came to a halt in front of the large door of the Hall of Shadows, by myself created, and by myself protected.
"Obscurus," I spoke, the maniacal glee on my face increasing as the door actually began to slide to the sides, carefully opening up to reveal the slightly dusty, and yet untouched, room. Lights began to spread across the walls, torches lightning their way in brilliant green fires. A couple of cleaning charms to remove the humidity and the mold, and then a few Impervius charms on those objects I had forgotten to give it to, and I could eagerly plop down on my armchair, taking in the beauty of my Hall of Shadows.
Then, I lifted my wand and gave it a flick.
The music from the invisible orchestra began to play, and I blissfully sighed.
"Requiem Aeternam, Dona Eis, Domine..." the statues began to sing, following the chorus. I closed my eyes, letting my wand tap up and down following a specific rhythm to let the piano know it was his cue. The drums took the rumbling in follow.
There was nothing like home, to lift a weary soul's tiredness.
There was nothing like music, to soothe one's mind.
There was nothing like watching the dragon-shaped statues from the sides of the room animate to tell me I had unexpected visitors incoming.
Unexpected visitors?
Preparations must be made.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
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-- Power
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