Bagsy Beetlehorn and the Thorned Gauntlet (The Bagsy Chronicles 1)

Quidditch

By Friday morning the following week, the third week of term, Bagsy and Mezrielda were no closer to deciphering the clues. Bagsy had also failed to tell Mezrielda that Professor Fitzsimmons was attempting to train her one on one after her Defence against the Dark Arts lessons. Attempt being the key word – Bagsy hadn't managed to produce any magic and Fitzsimmons' patience with her was growing thinner by the day.

'My doors will open if you grieve, laugh with me and you may leave...' Bagsy repeated the rhyme again at breakfast, putting thoughts of magical ineptitude from her mind. 'Perhaps the stairs the message is meant to guide us to aren't real, but some sort of magical, emotional room?'

Mezrielda looked at Bagsy grumpily. 'A magical, emotional room,' she repeated. Bagsy nodded. Mezrielda sighed, 'I don't know why I let you in on this.' She stirred her porridge absent-mindedly. 'I feel like I only have one half of the puzzle. It's infuriating.'

'We'll get there eventually,' Bagsy assured her. Mezrielda practically growled. Bagsy didn't mind how long it was taking. Mezrielda was decent company, once you got past her sharp tongue, and Bagsy appreciated someone sitting with her outside whilst she supervised her living stampelia's sunlight hours. After they'd finished their breakfast, and after they'd had their lessons, it would be how they'd spend their break.

'I want to be there now!'

Bagsy ignored Mezrielda's outburst in favour of the noises of teasing further down the Hufflepuff table. Ignoring the glances being shot her and Mezrielda's way, a Slytherin eating at the Hufflepuff table was unusual, Bagsy's eyes found Greenda hunched over her food. Emmeline and her friends had her surrounded, leaning over her or poking her shoulder. Bagsy cast her eyes around, hoping Professor Blythurst was nearby, but he was nowhere in sight.

'Are you listening?' Mezrielda asked.

Bagsy shook her head. 'I wasn't, no,' she said honestly as Mezrielda huffed. 'Look at Greenda over there, I think she's being bullied.'

Mezrielda leant forward to look past Bagsy. Emmeline was going through Greenda's large bag, now, and had pulled out one of her books, her voice carrying down the table in a mocking tone but Bagsy couldn't make out what she was saying. Her bob-haired friend chimed in, her American voice joining the teasing.

'Yes. That does look like bullying,' Mezrielda nodded in agreement, watching in interest.

'We... we should do something...?'

Mezrielda shrugged. 'It's her problem, not mine.'

'I'm going to go and tell a Professor,' Bagsy decided, her legs feeling like lead as she went to stand up.

Mezrielda gripped the sleeve of her robe. 'Are you mad? Or do you want to get bullied too?' Bagsy pulled her arm free from Mezrielda. 'Anyway, I thought you were a coward?'

Bagsy puffed out her cheeks indignantly. 'I know I'm a coward, but at least I'm not heartless,' she hissed back, swinging her legs over the bench and standing. She'd taken no more than one step towards the teacher's table, aiming for Professor Starrett, someone she trusted to give Emmeline and her friends a good, harsh talking to, when the doors to the great hall were thrust open with a loud bang. Bagsy instinctively ducked and covered her head, her heart hammering.

'Who-?' Someone near Bagsy asked in confusion as Bagsy turned around.

A great, hulking woman stood in the door way. She had muscles on top of muscles and hair cut so short on one side Bagsy could see her scalp and on the other just long enough to hang in her eye. She was draped in faux animal skins and furs and wore massive black boots that thudded loudly on the floor as she walked down the hall.