A Young Slytherin: A Barnaby Lee Story -Hogwarts Mystery

Sarah Spellman

Barnaby's third year at Hogwarts started off the best by far. For one thing, third year marked the beginning of Care of Magical Creatures Classes, and for the first time, Barnaby found he enjoyed being in a lesson.

Professor Kettleburn took Barnaby under his wing, noting that he had "the brain of a beast." Whenever he we wasn't in lessons or working with Merula, he would be down by the forest helping Kettleburn.

"You've got a gift, Mr. Lee," he remarked one day, after Barnaby managed to coax a particularly shy and injured bowtruckle from a tree to be healed. "I must admit, I was worried when I first saw your name on my roster. I've heard you have somewhat aggressive tendencies, and was worried you'd be cruel to the creatures. But, I suppose it's only other people you're aggressive towards."

"I've got be scary to people," he said as he wrapped up the bowtruckle's leg. "So they'll leave me alone."

"Like a wild erumpent," said Kettleburn, stroking his scraggly chin thoughtfully.

"Those big-horned creatures from Africa?"

"Precisely! They look vicious, but they're really gentle giants. Unless provoked, at which point, BOOM! Explosion."

Barnaby said nothing, as he was focused on his work and didn't quite understand what Kettleburn was saying.

"I won't pretend to be the greatest people-person, either," he continued, "but perhaps, like this bowtruckle, you need to find someone kind and caring enough to help you let your guard down. Ah, would you look at that!"

Barnaby had finished his work on the bowtruckle, and the creature happily jumped back up to nestle in its favorite tree.

"You'd make a fine magizoologist one day, Mr. Lee."

Barnaby wasn't sure how to respond to the compliment; he wasn't sure if he'd ever received one before. He looked Kettleburn up and down, eyeing his eye patch and wooden limbs warily.

"Do all magizoologists look like you?" he asked. "Ismelda says my good looks are my only redeeming quality."

Kettleburn threw back his head and laughed long and hard. "Only the extremely reckless ones! Now, you better hurry up to the castle lad, or you'll miss dinner. But, think on what I've said, will you? I'd like to hear you were as happy all the time as you are in my classes."

"I will, Professor."

The other good thing about third year was his partnership with Merula and Ismelda. They may have teased him every time he talked, but they at least heard him, and Barnaby came to think of them as his friends. He learned a lot about Merula's life and realized she wasn't so different from him.

Working with Merula turned out to be easy. He had such a reputation at Hogwarts by now, that all he had to do was give the stink-eye to anyone who annoyed her, and they'd take off immediately. He mainly used this tactic to earn them the good chairs by the fire in the common room. He didn't get a chance to use his talents on his primary target until a week into the new term in Potions Class.

"I've got some information on Spellman," said Ismelda, as they sat down at a table in the dungeon. "I've been spying on her in the courtyard, like you asked."

"Well, spit it out, then," said Merula.

"Apparently, her brother was close with the Landlady at the three broomsticks. Spellman was planning to go ask her some questions this weekend for the Hogsmeade visit. But," here Ismelda's smile became particularly nasty, "she's been banned from Hogsmeade for messing with the vaults last year. She can't get permission until she proves to McGonagall she's focusing on her studies enough."

"So we can get to the landlady first! Excellent!"

At that moment, Spellman arrived with a few other Gryffindors. Barnaby knew Merula would say something to her as soon as she arrived. She always antagonized people when he was in a good mood.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Spellman," she called. "How'd it feel to be publicly humiliated by Dumbledore at the feast?"

Dumbledore had begun the term by expressly forbidding students from tampering with the vaults, and calling out the students who'd already done so. He hadn't mentioned any names, but even Barnaby realized what he'd been talking about.

Spellman didn't look up from her potion kit as she said, "Can we not start are third year in an argument?"

Merula smiled. "Of course. And don't worry about Dumbledore and the Cursed Vaults. I'll open them all before you have a chance to find them. With my new associates Ismelda and Barnaby here, all the fortune and glory will be mine."

At the mention of their names, Spellman looked up at him and Ismelda. Barnaby didn't have time to hit her with his deadly stare before his eyes locked with hers, and then he seemed to have forgotten how to do it.

It took him a while to shake his head and tear his eyes away from her, even after Snape started the lesson and she looked away.

As they packed up their things at the end of the lesson, Barnaby asked Merula, "So, what do you think is in the next cursed vault?"

"I hope it's something to bring back the Dark Lord,"said Ismelda.

"Maybe it's something to bring back Spellman's brother," said Merula loudly as they passed her table. "On second thought, no one cares about that loser."

Spellman stood up. "I'd shut your mouth unless you want to duel again, Merula. We all know how that's worked for you in the past."

"You got lucky, Spellman!" shouted Merula, stamping her foot. "Next time we duel, you'll be begging for mercy."

Barnaby suddenly remembered witnessing the duel in question. "Didn't you beg a bit when Spellman beat you?" he blurted out. He wanted to make sure he was remembering things right. "I remember you crying, but I could've sworn you begged a bit too."

He knew he'd messed up when Merula stared at him with wide, murderous eyes. Spellman, on the other hand, stifled a giggle behind her hand. The sound reminded him of a puffskein chirping.

"Shut up, Barnaby!" said Merula. "Let's go, this loser isn't worth our time."

She and Ismelda stalked out of the dungeon, but Barnaby figured he'd better do something scary to Spellman to make up for his mishap a moment before.

He stood in front of her and gave his most imposing stare. "If you mess with Merula, I'll vanish all the bones in your body."

To his surprise, she didn't run away, or cower, or even yell for help. She just regarded him like he was a puzzle she was trying to solve, then asked, "Why are you friends with her? She's terrible to literally everyone."

He was completely thrown off guard. He'd never had to talk this long to someone he'd threatened before. "If what's inside the vaults will make me stronger, then I want it," he said. "Merula is the most powerful witch a Hogwarts. The only way I'll ever get into the vaults is to do exactly what she says."

"Did you ever think she might be lying to manipulate you?" she asked.

He'd never thought of it that way. Would Merula do something like that? He supposed she would. Then he remembered Merula telling him Spellman was a liar and a con.

"Don't try to make me think, Spellman!" he shouted. He left to catch up with the others.

He found them on the way to the great hall for dinner.

"What was that?!" Merula shouted at him. "You made me look like a coward in front of Spellman!"

"Sorry, I just thought—"

"It's not your job to think, Troll, it's your job to do whatever I say."

"I don't like to be called 'Troll,'" he said softly. Merula was the only person who dared call him that name anymore. He'd beat anyone else who used it up.

"Then stop acting like one!" she hissed. Ismelda sniggered at him. "When we go to Hogsmeade this weekend, you two let me do the talking. Understand?" They nodded. "Good. Come on, I'm starving." And they went in to dinner.