SH:HP - Ashwinder

Dear Mum and Dad,
I wrote to you two days ago about the adventure of Mike's gobstones and I mentioned that there was a story behind my first lesson on the second Monday. Well, here it is…

. . .

On Monday, John went to his first lesson. Sherlock had found a secret passageway which led to the third floor without having to use the Grand Staircase and so avoiding another confrontation from Anderson. They waited in line outside the door to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

"So, who's the teacher?" John asked

Sherlock sniffed, "Head of Slytherin, Professor Baskerville. He's quite vile"

"He can't be that bad!"

Mike snorted, "Just you wait and see."

If the creaky door opening in a slow and sinister fashion wasn't ominous enough, the small, dark figure hiding in the corner alluded to what was to come.

"Sit down."

His voice was harsh and he watched the students with a cold intolerant eye as they filed silently into the room.
John followed Sherlock and Mike who sat in seats near the back. The class was dreadfully hushed. John nervously balanced his walking stick against the table and took out The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection out of his bag along with some parchment and quills.
Someone brushed roughly past, knocking the walking stick over and causing parchment to flutter to the floor. There was a quiet snigger as Anderson and his cronies took seats up the front. John sighed as he bent over to pick up his walking stick and leaned it against the desk again.
The man in the corner stalked out of the shadows to stand before the class.

"You can put your textbooks away," he said, "and hiding your parchment and quills may be a good idea too."

There was a lot of rustling and impatient tisks as people returned everything back into their bags.

Professor Baskerville gestured to a very large cage on his desk,
"Here we have a magical creature, one you may have never heard of and may never see again."

He pulled off the long black cloth that covered the cage to reveal a small crackling fire at the bottom

"Who can guess what is inside here?"

No one raised their hands.

"Anyone? Well, I certainly need to give you all special attention to your studies. This...is a fire."

Somehow the silence in the classroom became thicker.

Professor Baskerville smirked,
"Yes, but within this fire is an Ashwinder. A newly hatched Ashwinder, by the way. Now the Ashwinder is a pale grey serpent with glowing red eyes that can be created in the residue of a magical fire. When they are ready to die, which is a few hours after they hatch, they slither off into a dark corner and lay their eggs."

Professor Baskerville opened the cage and lifted the Ashwinder out

"Ashwinder eggs are bright red in colour and emit a harsh heat which can set fire to most objects within a radius of, no one knows. Never try to enlarge an Ashwinder, they will explode with a big bang and lots of sparks, as poor Professor Kettleburn found out."

The Professor then placed the Ashwinder on the desk in front of two girls. They started whimpering and backing away in their seats. Anderson and his friend laughed.
John felt a hatred rise up within him – the Professor was very cruel for picking on the poor girls - but then Baskerville picked the Ashwinder up again and dropped it on Anderson's desk. Anderson stopped laughing and turned so pale, it reflected light at the snake. The Ashwinder raised its head and looked straight at Anderson.

"Maybe," Baskerville pondered, "we should turn out the lights"

Baskerville raised his wand and waved it across the room. All the curtains closed and every possible light blew out, except for the Ashwinder's fire. The fire threw enough light around the room to see everyone's faces.
A girl screamed and Anderson leapt onto his chair

"It touched me!" he yelped

Then John realised that it wasn't a girl who had screamed before. He exchanged looks with Sherlock and they burst into silent fits.

"Wait," Anderson's voice pitched even higher, "Where did it go?"

Silence ensued.
The dim light wasn't enough to see the floor. A few people stood on their chairs, keeping their feet off the ground, looking around for any sign of the run-away snake. John's ears strained as he felt his heart thump madly against his ribs. He clenched his fists on the desk and his arm slipped.
There was a loud bang, making everyone in the class jump violently and many fell off their seats. John bent down to pick up his walking stick again, mumbling a nervous apology.
Professor Baskerville seemed to be enjoying everyone's anxiety. His thin lips curled manically every time someone's discomfort was made obvious. It was quite disturbing to witness in the semi darkness.
For another ten minutes the entire class waited with bated breath, except the occasional gasp when someone thought they had spotted the serpent.
Then, there was a soft crackling noise. Everyone was looking around, trying to find where it was coming from, when something exploded into flames at the back of the classroom. Many people screamed as there was a big rush to the front of the room.
Professor Baskerville swiftly stepped in and waved his wand, sending water over the flames

"Someone get the eggs!" he yelled over at his students

Sherlock looked at John, who nodded reluctantly, and they parted from their classmates and appeared at Professor Baskerville's shoulder.

"Ah, boys," he said when he noticed them, "Just put your hands in there, yes the fire, no you won't get burned - but if you do it's easily fixed - and get those eggs. You see the red glowing things? Yes, them. Yes, you got them? Good! Oh yeah, sorry, be careful, they're hot. Maybe you should've used a mitten or a cloth – DON'T DROP THEM!"

John snivelled as he tended to his burnt fingers. Professor Baskerville stopped paying attention to the burning cupboard and levitated the eggs into the cage on his desk. Then he waved his wand and opened all the curtains and relit the candles. Light streamed into the far corners of the room, exposing the chaos that had arisen from that lesson. Desks and chairs were upturned, the contents of people's bags were strewn all over the place and a long, winding burn trail could be seen under all the books and parchment that littered the floor, showing where the Ashwinder had been before finding that nice, cosy corner to lay her eggs.

Professor Baskerville laughed at the mess
"Everybody, take a seat. Now I want a four foot long report on why not to let an Ashwinder loose."

. . .

Tuesday afternoon, John left History of Magic with his leg throbbing dully from the intense boringness of the lesson. Mike was walking beside him.

"Hey," he said, "Let's play some gobstones before we do any homework, reactivate our minds!"

John sighed drearily, "No thanks, Mike. I think I'll just walk around for a bit. Maybe go up to the Library. I really need to catch up on homework, especially Transfiguration. It's due tomorrow, as well as a whole heap of other things."

Mike looked really disappointed,
"Oh, well, maybe next time?"

"Yeah,"

Mike nodded and ran to catch up with the other Gryffindor boys. John slowly climbed the Grand Staircase alone to the third floor landing. Stopping, he looked back bitterly, remembering, well, not much, but seeing Anderson's face as he insulted Sherlock made his stomach turn with anger. And Anderson didn't even get a detention. John shook his head as he passed the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom. Just because he was a first year and hadn't been to any lessons and wasn't "able to control" his magical abilities shouldn't mean he could get off that easily.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door crashing open and Professor Baskerville's angry face entered the corridor. Many passing students ran in fright.

Baskerville's usually placid face was alive with mutinous annoyance as he looked fiercely up and down the corridor,

"Who's been in my office?!" he roared, "Where's the devil who pilfered from me?!"

Baskerville spotted John. He pointed a crooked finger at him and advanced.
John froze, horror filled his eyes as he stood, waiting for the blow.

Baskerville huffed in John's white face,
"You! Were you in my office?"

John gurgled,
"N-n-n-n-no-no. No, it wasn't me!"

Baskerville growled,
"Yeah, well, I can't prove it, but I know you know who did it. Just because you're lame doesn't mean I don't suspect you!"

And with that he stalked back into his office and slammed the door behind him.
John swayed on the spot. He felt incredibly sick. He was about to fall over as his leg gave way when someone caught him.

"Are you alright, John?"

John looked up at a pale face with analysing grey eyes,
"Sherlock?"

"Yes, it's me"

Sherlock helped John to his feet. John took a deep breath as he steadied himself,
"Thanks,"

"No problem, I owed you one anyway"

John looked at Sherlock, puzzled, as the skinny boy readjusted his shoulder bag. He just smiled and gestured for John to join him in walking down the corridor. They had travelled down to the second floor and entered the Library before Sherlock explained himself;

"I want to thank you for taking the blame," he said

"What do you mean? What blame?" John asked

"Well, when Baskerville accused you, you didn't run away,"

"Well, I couldn't, my leg-"

"Yes, of course, your leg,"

John looked at Sherlock,
"Why were you thanking me?"

Then it dawned on him,
"It was you!" John cried

Sherlock shushed him,
"Not too loud, John. We are in the Library after all!"

"What did you take?"

"Just this,"

Sherlock glanced around before taking a glass jar out of his bag. In it were several spheres, all of which were glowing red.

John gaped at Sherlock,
"You took the Ashwinder eggs?"

Sherlock shrugged,
"It was easy,"

"But, why?"

Sherlock returned the eggs to his bag,
"Because I want to do a few experiments,"

John looked incredulously at Sherlock,
"You could get into serious trouble!"

Sherlock tittered.
John decided to change the subject and spent the rest of the afternoon doing homework with Sherlock.
Sherlock was an absolute genius. He understood everything and John was quite envious of his intellectual powers.
When the librarian shooed all the stragglers out at closing time, John was quite happy with his progress in homework. After saying good night, Sherlock moped down to the dungeons while John slowly made his way up to the seventh floor.

. . .

The next morning, John went down to breakfast as usual. He was always the first up in his dormitory so always went alone. The first thing that John noticed when he entered the Great Hall was that all the Slytherins looked very tired and unhappy.
Generally, Slytherins looked unhappy most of the time, but John saw that they all had the same moody expression as if they had experienced the same bad thing.
Sherlock was waiting for John at the Gryffindor table, his back to the Slytherins. John sat opposite him. He examined Sherlock's face and deduced that Sherlock didn't seem to be affected by the same thing that had appeared to irritate the Slytherins.
In fact, he was quite happy about something.
Unsure of what to say, John poured himself some cereal.

"Good morning," Sherlock said chirpily

"Good morning," John replied, "Why are you in such a good mood?"

Sherlock chuckled. This shocked John, he had never heard Sherlock chuckle before.

"What?" he pressed

"Oh, nothing," Sherlock continued to smile to himself

John raised an eyebrow,
"Is it just me or do all the Slytherins look extremely grumpy about something?"

"Maybe they didn't get a good sleep last night,"

"Did you?"

"Oh, yes, I had a fine sleep last night,"

John's suspicions rose,
"What did you do?"

Sherlock looked up at John,
"I set the Common Room on fire,"

John jumped,
"You WHAT?!"

"It was an accident, I swear! And they don't even know it was me, so keep your voice down!"

John shook his head,
"What are you doing with those Ashwinder eggs?"

"I told you, I wanted to experiment on them,"

"I mean, what are you going to do with them afterwards? They're gonna hatch and you'll have several Ashwinders slithering all over the place – the entire castle could burn down!"

"You're over-reacting, I've got it all under control,"

"You'll have to find another place to experiment,"

"I know, but I don't know where. If only there was a secret room that could give me everything that I need."

John sighed wearily.
After leaving his last lesson for the day, John cheerily accompanied Mike back to the Gryffindor Common Room. Outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, John noticed a tear in his bag. Rummaging through it he found he was missing his quill and told Mike he'd go back and search for it. Mike nodded and went through the portrait hole.
John was searching the floor when he heard a strange shuffling noise in the next corridor. John paused and listened intently. It sounded like someone didn't want to be seen.
Hugging the wall, he peered around the corner. There stood Professor Baskerville looking around shiftily. He was holding what seemed to be bottles of some sort of gold liquor. He paced up and down the corridor several times before stopping and looking at the wall. John thought he was drunk, but then Baskerville disappeared.
John rubbed his eyes.
Where did he go?
Cautiously, John hobbled around and into the corridor. There were no doors or windows, just one tapestry depicting a strange wizard trying to teach trolls ballet. John looked at the wall that Baskerville had disappeared into. It was blank. He gasped.
Was this the entrance to some magical room?
John made a mental note to tell Sherlock.

. . .

Dinner was being served in the Great Hall. John left his fellow Gryffindors and went to the Slytherin table in an attempt to find Sherlock.
As he passed him, Anderson looked up.

"Ah, we looking for the Freak?" he sneered

John glowered at him,
"I'm looking for Sherlock, actually"

Anderson sniggered,
"Well, maybe you should check the bathrooms. I bet he's bawling his eyes out. Again!"

His cronies hooted with laughter.
Annoyed, John turned his back on them and shuffled away. After scanning both the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, he assured himself that Sherlock wasn't in the Great Hall. Trying not to become alarmed, John grabbed several drumsticks and other nibbles, hid them in a few napkins and scooted out of the Hall.
He was about to climb the Grand Staircase when something hit him: which bathroom would Sherlock be in?
John quickly deduced that he would be in the closest bathroom to the Slytherin Common Room, so he headed that way. Leaning his stick against the wall, freeing a hand, John turned the doorknob.
He heard someone hastily stifle their voice as John entered. No one was at the sinks, so the boy in here must be in a cubicle.
Unsure whether it was Sherlock, John waited, listening for any clue that may reveal the boy's identity.

"John!"

John started

"Sherlock?"

"Yes!" the familiar voice said, "Quick! Come here, I need your help!"

John urgently limped over to the last cubicle.
There was a cauldron in the toilet bowl and floating above it was a piece of black material. Kneeling next to this odd set up was a pale, skinny boy with dark curls. He had discarded his robes and tie and had opened the top button of his shirt.

Sherlock looked up,
"Ah, can I borrow your quill?"

John leaned his stick against the cubicle door and took a quill out of his pocket

"How did you know it was me?" John asked, still ogling at the toilet

"Because of your walking stick, it made a sound every time it touched the flagstone,"

"Oh, right,"

John held up the napkins, "I brought food,"

Sherlock glanced at the grease-stained tissues,

"Food?"

"Yes, you're missing dinner,"

"It's dinner time already?"

"Yes, didn't you know?"

John gazed into the cauldron. Inside, something red was glowing at the bottom.

"What are you doing?" he asked exasperatedly

"Experimenting. I'm trying to find the maximum radius of heat emitting from the eggs concentrated enough to set this material alight" Sherlock answered, gesturing to the floating ball of material

"And that's how you set fire to the Slytherin Common Room?"

"I didn't take the carpet into account"

John sighed,
"Well, anyway, I think I've found something. A secret room"

Sherlock's head perked up,
"Really?"

"Yeah, I saw Baskerville wandering the seventh floor and then he seemingly disappeared through a wall!"

Sherlock's eyes glittered,
"Well, we better check it out!"