ALOHOMORA | CEDRIC DIGGORY

37〝thirty-seven〞

"MADAM POMFREY WANTS YOU TO drink up, even if you weren't planning on eating. I think it's getting her a little worked up over there."

Cedric tilted his chin towards the table where Madam Pomfrey was jabbering away frantically and looking all kinds of worried. Ellis accepted the beverage guiltily; indeed, she hadn't touched much of the food that the matron had stacked onto her plate like an entire tea party had exploded onto it.

"Is this actual beer?" said Ellis curiously, sniffing at the rim of the goblet.

"Not really," answered Cedric, "its alcohol content's too low. You don't even have to be of age to buy it. Try it, it'll warm you up," he added earnestly as Ellis continued to drink it with her eyes.

She took a sip and immediately craved another. It wasn't overly sweet and, as she swigged deeply, toasted every inch of her in a way that was simply satisfying.

"Er, you've got a bit of—" Cedric chuckled slightly as he pointed as his mouth, but Ellis, who didn't fully understand this, merely stared at him like he was something odd. "Here, let me—" And sliding out his handkerchief, Cedric reached forward.

Ellis froze as he dabbed her upper lip.

It was quite a peculiar experience. She had become very hot in that instance—though liked to think it was due to the butterbeer—and yet, a fresh batch of goose pimples plagued her skin. Her heart thumped rapidly; she wouldn't be surprised if anyone else could hear the loud, violent beats. After what seemed to be days, her muscles were finally hers again: she recoiled from him, hurriedly wiping her mouth with her own sleeve, inclined to believe she had reacted quick enough and that Cedric hadn't gotten very far. That, however, was untrue; the cuff of her jumper was hardly stained.

"Thanks," she murmured.

Scrambling to her feet, Ellis didn't care where they carried her, as long as it was away from him. Her cheeks were flaring up; she could see their color reflected vividly in her goblet, which wasn't even a very good looking glass. She downed more butterbeer—to make her theory more convincing.

Then Professor Kettleburn's hoarse voice called, "If everyone could gather round for a moment, I'd like to have a few words."

As it transpired, Ellis had been heading toward the family of unicorns. She glanced back at Elliot, who seemed to gaze at her expectantly.

"I'll be back," Ellis assured him, then hastened to rejoin the other guests back at the table.

Once everyone was assembled, Kettleburn began.

"Aye, first of all, thank you all for coming. I'm sure Allister doesn't mind us using her name as a pretext to end this holiday on a superb note. Now"—his jovial manner extinguished itself, to be replaced by a rather ceremonious one—"for the real order of business. As most of you know, I tend to be an overachiever. A long time ago, my parents told me to 'break a leg' at work, and I trust that my performance up till now thoroughly Exceeds Expectations"—he gave a wink; Hagrid guffawed; the others, including Ellis, laughed merrily—"but in recent times, I've been feeling rather de-feeted"—Hagrid roared; Dumbledore chuckled—"and often have been asked, 'Need a hand there?' "

At this point, Hagrid was practically doubled up. Professor McGonagall eyed him almost disdainfully.

"I suppose these are signs for me to put my foot up for good, in other words: I'll be retiring at the end of the summer term. Oh don't pull such long faces, ladies," said Kettleburn gaily, sweeping his grin across all the witches, for Ellis, too, was wearing the same astonished and blue expression as Professors Sprout and McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. "Look on the bright side: on the one hand"—he displayed his good one—"I still have it, and on the other"—he waved his prosthetic claw—"well, you get what I mean!" He chortled. "Aye, I know you lot will miss me, but I'm just a stone throw's away. What do you say, Albus?"

"What can I say?" replied Dumbledore. "You had me stumped."

Everyone relapsed into laughter—everyone except Ellis.

"But in all seriousness," said Dumbledore, "if this is what you desire, Silvanus, I respect your decision."

"I have just one request, Headmaster," said Kettleburn, "if you'll allow me to suggest my successor?"

Dumbledore nodded. Kettleburn gestured to Hagrid, who was now in tears and heaved a great sob.

"But fair warning, old friend," Kettleburn told Hagrid, "this is a dear job. After all, it does cost an arm and a leg."

Hagrid snorted sonorously and applauded. Everyone followed suit. Ellis clapped especially avidly. No doubt she was disappointed that she would never be taught by Professor Kettleburn, but Hagrid wasn't bad at all. He was passionate and kind, not to mention knowledgeable, and in her opinion would make a fine Care of Magical Creatures teacher. She could only hope that Dumbledore wouldn't screw this up for her...

Kettleburn thanked everyone again, and as the staff began to take their leave, Ellis crept back towards Elliot, only to be dismayed: the corner of the paddock formerly occupied by the family of unicorns had been vacated. She whipped her head around to scan the surrounding forested land but in the back of mind, she knew her efforts were in vain.

Unicorns were so fleet of foot they wouldn't leave a trace if they didn't want to—and it definitely seemed like none of them wanted to.

"Looking for someone, lassie?"

"Just the unicorns, sir," said Ellis, in a tone that failed to mask her heavyheartedness, and Kettleburn sighed.

"Aye, I'm afraid you've just missed them. It's not going to be their feeding again for a couple of days."

Dejected, Ellis nodded quietly at this.

"Can we come back and see them, then?" asked Cedric, and Ellis peered up to see him arriving.

"Only if it doesn't upset your classes," said Kettleburn, "that is, I don't want any complaints from the other teachers!" He waggled a warning finger at them.

"No, of course not!" Ellis blurted out, but Kettleburn merely laughed.

So uptight she hadn't seen the joke coming, Ellis positively flushed with embarrassment. She wished she had butterbeer to save her now.

"Why don't you lot stay and give us a hand? It's almost dinner time for the others."

That evening, Ellis got to meet many of the other little beasts who lived in the case: Bonnie and Clyde the nifflers, Jack and Russell the crups, Claudia and Tabitha the kneazles... Kettleburn didn't let them nearer the larger ones without supervision, and there was absolutely no chance of even stealing a peek at Pearl the Opaleye (she was still nesting), but briefly introduced them to Victoria and Albert the sphinxes, who were too busy throwing riddles at each other to notice the humans. (Apparently, their antics were a display of affection in light of the impending mating season.)

Upon feeding the diricawls, Ellis and Cedric proceeded to the mooncalf habitat—a huge rock softly irradiated by lunar glow. The sight of the adorable animals bouncing on their lanky legs, watching them keenly with protuberant eyes that were their entire face, seemed to put everything out of Ellis's mind. She scattered the prescribed pellets into their midst, rather as eagerly as the mooncalves themselves. They began to crowd around her. She stroked their round heads, giggling.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing?" cooed Ellis, kneeling down and nuzzling one of them. But when she let go of one, another came up, and then another, and then she was nuzzling all of them at once.

When her face was free of mooncalf necks and she could glance up again, Cedric, who was looking wholly amused and beaming at her, caught her eye. Her joy level spiked, then nosedived as she remembered the rest of the school returning to the castle the next day, and it showed.

"What's wrong?" said Cedric, concerned.

"I need to ask you a favour."