Bagsy Beetlehorn and the Corvid Trials (The Bagsy Chronicles 2)

The Deep Passage

Bagsy knocked politely on the staff room door.

'I got it last time,' came Professor Kim's voice from inside.

'You're the thaumathletics teacher,' Professor Wattleseed responded in amusement. 'You're meant to be sportier.'

'Yeah, but you could use the exercise, Wuvrius,' Kim responded jokingly, her voice approaching the door and Bagsy heard Wattleseed laugh. Professor Kim opened the door and looked down at her. 'Again?' Kim said in surprise, black hair tied back in its usual twist of plaits, but now with a flower entwined at the bottom that Bagsy suspected was from one of the greenhouses.

Bagsy looked at her silently, her mind stalling. 'Where is Professor Fitzsimmons' office?' she managed to ask at last.

There was a laugh from within the staffroom. 'Enjoy the exercise,' Wattleseed's voice jibed from beyond view.

Kim shot a glare back at him then walked into the corridor, closing the staff room door behind her. 'Follow me,' she sighed. 'A word of warning – once term has started the head professor won't be able to entertain unscheduled visits.' Bagsy nodded, scampering quickly after Kim who walked very fast indeed. 'Are you going to try out for the quidditch team this year, Bagsy?' Kim asked as they walked. Bagsy shrugged. 'You should,' she encouraged her. 'If you're flying is anywhere near as good as your understanding of how brooms work, you'll make a first-rate player. This way,' Kim instructed. They ascended some steps and then walked onto another set that shifted and moved to the right, landing them on a different corridor. From there they followed a tangle of stairs and passageways. They'd been walking for so long, Bagsy was beginning to wonder if they'd run out of castle to walk through.

'How far is the office?' Bagsy asked in a small voice as they turned yet another corner. It really felt like they were in a maze.

'Not long now,' Kim assured her. At last, they came to a stop below a waiting black hole above their heads. 'Up there,' Kim said.

Bagsy looked up, swaying at the sight. It was far beyond her reach. 'How do I-?' she began, but a ladder of glass dropped down and clinked against the stone floor, cutting her off, and she jumped backwards fearfully at the shock.

'There you go,' Kim said, casting her a wave and beginning the trek back to the staff room.

'Thank you,' Bagsy called after her, then looked up the ladder and began to climb, the glass letting out faint chimes with each step upwards. When she reached the top, she saw a light above her head – a lantern with a bright flame illuminating the room she climbed into. A moth was flittering around it. Bagsy crawled into the space and, once she was safely away from the hole that led back out, stood up on shaking legs.

She found herself in a large, dome shaped room with a ceiling that arched high above her. There was a strong smell of dust and long, cream drapes hung from the walls with little holes nibbled into them. Lanterns lit the area, revealing stacks and stacks of books, curious empty cages and trunks of strange items. Plush cushions sat in a circle around the lantern a moth was obsessing over.

Bagsy looked at the moth. Last year, Professor Fitzsimmons had turned from a moth into a human at the start of their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. Bagsy, looking at this moth, knew it wasn't the professor, but couldn't explain how she knew.

'You did not think I was the moth,' a voice spoke from above her head. Bagsy looked up and saw, sitting cross legged on a swinging hammock made of small ropes tied together, Professor Fitzsimmons.

'S-sorry if I'm intruding,' Bagsy said quietly.

Professor Fitzsimmons floated down from the hammock and landed gently on the floor. With a wave of their wand the lanterns burned bright and the dark room became as well-lit as a mid-day meadow. 'It is fine. Before and after term I enjoy taking visitors. Please sit, Bagsyllia.' Fitzsimmons summoned a plush stool out of thin air and Bagsy sat down. 'Most pupils who visit me try to speak to my friend.' Fitzsimmons indicated the moth still fluttering around the lantern. 'But not you. I wonder if you know why?' Bagsy shook her head and Fitzsimmons fixed her with an inquisitive look. Bagsy, with a tilt of her head, noticed that Fitzsimmons' robes were torn at the end, and caught glimpses of bruises and scratches on their leg.