Characters, settings, and story relating to the Harry Potter series of novels are copyright J. K. Rowling, along with Bloomsbury Publishing, et al. “Spirit of Fear” is not an officially published work, nor is it in any cooperation with J. K. Rowling or Bloomsbury Publishing. “Spirit of Fear” is entirely (with the exclusion of the aforementioned characters, settings, and story) a work by Thomas Holman.

Chapter Ten

Measure of Knowledge

“Hello, Aunt Em.”

“Chey! What are you doing here? Has Durmstrang let out?”

“No, not yet.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Long story. Very complicated.”

“Have you been expelled again?!”

“Yep.”

“What happened?!”

“I can honestly say I don’t know.”

Minerva thought over Chey’s words, and said “Chance your best guess.”

“Best I can figure, some jerk cursed me, I broke it and kicked his ass.”

“Expelled for merely fighting?”

“Well, I caused some damage...”

“That’s enough details,” she said with a sigh. “I would have figured you would have gone straight to Romania. Why have you come here?”

“I figured I might be able to help with your creature caper.”

“What?”

“People being petrified...little girl gets kidnaped...any of this ringing any bells?”

“Oh, of course!” she said with a dawn of reasoning. “The monster is dead. It was killed the other night.”

“What? You’re kidding me, right?”

“No.”

“Well what was it?”

“You won’t believe this. It was a basilisk!”

“Huh. Sergey had it dead on. So now what are you going to do?”

“We’ve cancelled the final exams for the students and now they just wait for the train home. Now tell me what you are going to do. Have you come here to ask admittance into Hogwarts?”

“No.”

“Well surely no other school anywhere would be willing to take you now.”

“Actually...”

“You’re joking!”

“Nope. Just got this letter from Madame Olympe Maxime, Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France. I’m in.”

“How on earth-”

“My application is not entirely truthful. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

“One of these days your methods are going to get you into far more trouble than you’ve ever gotten out of.”

“Here we go again. Listen, Em. How about we skip to the end where I acknowledge your sage words of wisdom but decide to act on my own anyway?”

“In the interest of saving time, Chey, we will. Now please leave my office before you say something about the decor.”

“Now that you mention it, Minerva...”

“Out!”

As Chey wandered the halls of Hogwarts, he could sense a lighter atmosphere than what was there during his previous visit. People actually greeted each other in the hall, talked about less pressing matters, and were even courteous towards him.

All this lightheartedness was getting on his nerves, so he decided to take off for Romania earlier than expected. As he made his way through the entrance hall towards the main doors, he noticed Raithe swoop in from one of the windows, clutching two envelopes in his feet. The first was from Beauxbatons. It held information about the upcoming term, three months off.

The second envelope was unexpected enough that Chey did a double take. It was addressed to his mother. It wasn’t Christmas. Why would her family send a letter now? Again, no return adress. He opened it, and a raven charm with outstretched wings on a gold chain slid out. He opened the letter and read it.

“Hello, Alana.

While cleaning some things I found your necklace. I was shocked to think that you would not have it with you. You loved this necklace so very much, so we thought it best to send it to you.

Say hello to William for us. We will see you soon.

With love,

Mother and Father.”

He took another look at the necklace. It was beautiful, and at the same time seemed decades old but shined like new.

He read the letter again. They mention William, his father. At least they knew who her husband is, but they seemed oblivious to her marital state. Again, they put that hatful phrase: “With love.” If they really meant it, they’d go to at least some length to discover who was getting their daughter’s mail.

While contemplating these thoughts, he never heard any of the people around him.

“Magic is the clay,” came a familiar voice, “and the magician is the sculpter. Magicians neither create nor emanate any magic at all, we just move it around.” Yes, it was Laser-Eye Library Girl. What was her name? Something Greek?

“How long did it take you to figure that out, Miss...”

“Hermoine Granger,” she finished for him. Of course, sounded like Hermes, the Greek messenger god. “And it only took me a week.” She was quick, a quality that would make Hermes proud.

“Impressive. I had it in four days.”

“And the wand is the tool. It focuses and amplifies the natural magic around us,” she said with such confidence. “I figured that out in the same week.”

“Okay, that part took me three days. We’re even. I see you’ve shed your whiskers.”

“And I’ve been revived from petrification.”

“Never out of the clinic long, are you?”

“This year is an anomaly,” she declared.

“And you still had time to comprehend the raw basics of magical theory. Bravo. Now, did you seek me out just to impress me?”

“Not in the least. Actually, I’ve come for the second puzzle piece you promised.”

“Well, the next piece was the role of the wand, but since you’ve already figured that out, I do have something else for you to consider.”

“Go right ahead.”

“By the next time we meet, I want you to be able to describe the actual flow of magical energy when a spell is cast. Tell me what direction it goes and how it gets there.”

“That’s impossible! Can’t I have some sort of clue?”

“Read up on fluid dynamics. It will get you far. Trust me.”

Chey headed out the doors, Raithe on his shoulder, the necklace still in his hand. Then, feeling as though it were his mother’s wish, he put it around his neck.

Wearing the necklace took some getting used to, but two weeks of wearing it got Chey accustomed to it.

Vipey was no doubt happy to see him, and the first thing Chey did was cook him a sirloin steak.

“Who knew just a little prepared meat is all it takes to calm this beast,” Chuck said upon witnessing this. The three of them were in the open field where the more mellow dragons, Vipey included, were kept. The more aggressive ones were confined to individual cells so as not to incite the others.

“Well I certainly didn’t know it for the longest time. Then one day he stole a piece of prime rib from a barbeque party and he was happier than a squirrel in an oak forest for a week.”

“Did anyone see him?”

“Thank goodness, no. My luck was working overtime that day. Although they did notice that their steak was missing. I guess they figured a dog took off with it. They were half right.”

“How were they half right?”

“Well sometimes Vipey is such a son of a bitch. Of course, you can’t spoil him all the time, otherwise he’ll expect it. I usually give it to him random times when he seems depressed.”

“Why random times?”

“If you give it to him whenever he seems depressed, he’ll see a pattern and act depressed all the time.”

“I’d never thought of that.”

“Not many people do. It’s usually the psychologists that figure it out. So how’s this little rascal been?”

“Not too bad. He did want to scrap with an Opaleye, but we settled that quickly.”

“Good. I was kind of worried about him. He is the only Vipertooth here, and therefore the smallest, so I didn’t know if he’d try to establish his worth by some demonstration of strength.”

“Has that been a problem before?”

“No. In Nevada there were plenty of Peruvians, some even smaller than him, so he didn’t need to establish a place in the ranks for himself.”

“What about the other breeds they kept?”

“Never needed to worry about that. Aside from a handful of the larger species, the only other breed kept in Nevada are the Roccaverdens.”

Chuck was stunned. Apparently the conversation was entering territory where Chuck had no prior experience. What Chuck said next confirmed the situation. “I’ve never heard of them.”

“Clearly you’ve had an incomplete education,” Chey remarked. “Roccaverdens are the only North American breed of dragon.”

“Why haven’t I heard of them?”

“Two possible reasons: One, they are very good at camouflage. They live in the Rocky Mountains, where there are a lot of trees, and they are a very dark mottled green, so they just blend in with the forest. Two, the books on dragons you’ve read were written by British authors who still resent the outcome of the American Revolution. Both explanations make sense to me.”

“Of course they would. But why wouldn’t you need to worry about them?”

“They’re smaller than Vipey. But they’re also very fast. Smart, too. Seriously, they can pick a lock. I’ve seen it.”

“What else is there about them?”

“They’re about a head shorter than a Vipertooth, usually hunt deer, they can’t fly as fast but can really move while on the ground. They’re really agile, and their reflexes are the best of all dragons.”

“Sounds like quite a breed. Why aren’t there any in this reservation?”

“Because they hate confinement. They’re not territorial at all, they roam around whenever they wish, so you need a large area like the desert to place the massive reservation.”

“But you said they live in the forest. How do you keep forest dwelling dragons in the desert?”

“And you’ve been around magic your whole life?”

“Oh, right,” Chuck said, speaking as one who had only that moment realized the presence of a nine-hundred pound gorilla. While Chuck was noticing things, “What’s that around your neck?” he asked, indicating the necklace.

“It was my mother’s. Her family just sent it to me.”

Detecting a sensitive topic, Chuck backed off and changed the subject. “Well, I’m going to check on that new Horntail we just recieved.”

“We got a Hungarian?”

“Yeah. Her name’s Agnes. You want to have a look?”

“Sure.”

Agnes was large. Fifty feet long with an inversely proportional length of temper.

“You know what, Chuck?” Chey said once he saw her. “I wouldn’t go in there without two Vipeys backing me up.”

“That’s pretty much what I said when I saw her.”

“Let’s take care of her tomorrow.”

“Agreed.”

“Hey Chey! What’s this letter on your desk?”

It was some weeks later and Chuck was referring to his mail. They were in Chey’s office, where he had decorated it with various posters for movies, bands, cars and American football teams, and in the spaces not covered by them there were reference guides for dragons, magical theories and dissections of complicated spells. His desk never had a clear space, as there was always a pile of papers, books, or boxes on it. Yet he could always find what he needed by means of his system: “I can find anything in here because everything is right where I left it.”

“I haven’t looked at my mail yet,” Chey answered from across the room. “Hand it over,” he said as he approached.

“Looks like one of those Ministry letters,” Chuck said. He was right, it had their seal and everything. “Wait,” he said and pulled his hand back as Chey made to take the letter. “You swore you wouldn’t.”

“Shut up and give me the letter Chuck.”

“You said ‘Not a snowball’s chance in Hell will I take any test called the OWL.’ That’s what you said, and look what we have here.”

“Which means either I’m a liar or a snowball takes a long time to melt. Give me the damn letter.”

“Oh, how the mighty ego has fallen.”

“You want to keep all ten fingers, Chuck?” With that, Chey had his letter. After glancing at it he tossed it on the table. It had hardly rested there half a second before Chuck picked it up.

“Chey, if these were my scores I’d be shouting it from every mountaintop.”

“Whatever.”

“Every score here is either an ‘Outstanding’ or ‘Exceeds Expectations.’ When did you take them?”

“The examination official ambushed me as I left Hogwarts,” Chey said, then muttered something about unfair tactics.

“Well you’re aunt will be pleased.”

“That her plan worked? Oh yes, she’ll be very pleased to know I was forced to take the stupid test.”

“Now she knows how smart you really are!”

“Shouldn’t she already know?”

“Sure, but now she knows how to compare you to other people who have taken the same test!”

“Are you going to be like this all day?”

“I get your point. But seriously, send this to your aunt. She could use a reason to be proud of you following your fifth expulsion.”

“How would you like to have nine fingers?”

Author's Note

Show of hands: how many of you thought he'd be attending Hogwarts for his sixth year? Anyone? Oh, that's totally what you were thinking, you liars!

Right about here, at the tenth chapter, I suppose it's only proper to say something along the lines of how I had no idea it would go this long. That would be a lie, because I was going to keep going regardless of what you readers thought about it. Dang, now I've estranged my audience. Ah well.

By the way, Roccaverdens are my own invention. Hope that clears up the confusion. At some point I'll have an image of a Roccaverden for you all to see. Actually, I hope to have some pictures of Chey and Vipey as well. We'll see what happens. It's up to my sister. She's my visual designer.