30. RUNAWAY!

Later that week, Susannah came to her dorm mates in tears. It seemed Raymie had been right about Petey Macnair. He had tried to escape from Durmstrang--and apparently succeeded. And now he was missing--again. She had it from Lord Macnair himself, who had come to the school to grill her and others of Petey's friends on his possible whereabouts. Minerva realized her friend's distress wasn't entirely due to the questioning, though knowing Lord Macnair, it must have been very harsh. When she finally calmed down, Suze admitted that she was afraid that Petey might be frozen to death in a cave somewhere. Or if he wasn't, when his father found him, he'd wish he was. They had to do something, she cried, but what, she wasn't prepared to say. Nor was Minerva. It seemed an impossible challenge.

So she was surprised when Hildy Bagshot beckoned her and Mina Grubbly to a nearly empty corner of the common room that night and asked what they could do about it.

"This Peter Macnair. I want to help him. I've never met him, but I'm confident he's a decent fellow, and Susannah seems quite taken with him...."

So 'taken', thought Minerva that Suze had gone through a drawerful of handkerchiefs already, had interrupted three classes with her tearful outbursts, and now could be heard wailing away upstairs in the dormitory through two feet of granite. But Minerva felt the need to defend her friend, even if she was acting a bit Muggle-headed. "She and Petey were really good friends. And she sometimes gets—emotional...."

Mina shifted in her seat. "Emotional? I'd call it 'hysterical'. She's making Bubo very nervous. And her cat scratched her three times today."

"This Peter must be a very brave and resourceful person," Hildy continued. "I read that Durmstrang has so many spells around it that no one's ever escaped before."

"You make it sound like a prison," said Minerva.

"It's a well-known fact that parents send their most recalcitrant children to Durmstrang. It's like what Muggles call a 'military school'."

Whatever that is, thought Minerva.

Hildy went on. "He's made history you know. The first student ever to foil the defenses of the most secretive school in the Magicosm."

"Well, he is pretty good with spells."

"No doubt. The youngest son of the Wizard-Thane of Perth, with a pedigree as long as Merlin's beard..."

And she's looked that up too, thought Minerva. Probably knows the whole family tree by heart. But she just said, "I don't see how we can help him...."

Hildy bulled right on. "I've given this a lot of thought. You're an excellent aviator, Minerva, and Mina here knows all about wild animals, and I know lots about foreign countries. I thought, if we put our heads together, we could come up with a way to rescue him. What do you say?"

Minerva stifled a snort of laughter. How could they, three first-year witches, do what Laird Macnair and all his minions could not?

Of course, she knew what lay behind Hildy's idea. She loved geography almost as much as history. The idea of visiting a foreign country--any country--put all thoughts of danger out of her mind. And if they succeeded in finding Petey before anyone else did, they'd make a little bit of wizarding history themselves. Maybe even become the first entry in The Bagshot Book of World Records or any other such nonsense Hildy might be working on.

But Minerva said yes--if they could come up with a workable plan. Under all her skepticism, she really wanted to help Petey because she felt at least partly to blame for his incarceration at that hateful school.

Mina took her time before answering. Minerva had come to know her as a dispassionate sort, who could kill and dissect a Streeler without a thought as to its pain or the danger to herself. She had an insatiable curiosity about all things animate, and all but worshiped Newt Scamander, the famous magizoologist. She finally said 'yes' too, and offered an idea that was to become the foundation for their ultimate plan.

It was so simple: they would send Mina's owl Bubo out with a letter for Petey, and they would follow him on their broomsticks. But, objected Minerva, neither Hildy nor Mina was any great shakes on a broom. But they argued that they both had other assets of knowledge and experience that would make them invaluable to the expedition, and that there was no way they would let Mineva make such a dangerous trip all by herself. So she thought long and hard about possible ways around her own objection.

~*~

In the end, Minerva wrote to her father and asked him to send along that three-seater prototype broom he was working on, on the pretense of volunteering to do some trial runs for him. Its delivery made quite a stir in the Great Hall at breakfast two days later. It took the four barn owls carrying it five minutes of maneuvering to find a landing place. It was over seven feet long and weighed at least five stone. Hildy christened it The Dreadnought. They practiced on it the next weekend and pronounced it serviceable, despite being heavy and rather rigid. At least it would hold up well in cross-currents and nasty weather.

Hildy spent some time searching for clues to the location of Durmstrang. These were few and contradictory. She also looked up the geography and peoples of the lands they would most likely be traveling to, and even memorized some choice phrases in a variety of languages. At the top of her list was "Do you speak English?" and "Where's the Ladies', please?"

Minerva studied maps of Europe. She would be the pilot, and their safety would rest in her hands. She kept pushing out of her brain all the logical objections to the plan, chief among them the fact that they had no idea how far they would be flying.

Looking at a map of the Swiss Alps with Hildy, she pointed out a place called Grindelwald. "That's odd. I thought Grindelwald was from the Black Forest."

"So he is," said Hildy, "but there's no connection between the two actually. Odd, isn't it? A charming little ski resort that gives pleasure to thousands of people every year has the same name as a Dark Wizard who has been responsible for the deaths of untold numbers of Muggles."

Minerva, who had assumed that the true nature of Grindelwald the wizard was a deep, dark secret, known only to Professor Dumbledore and his little band of avengers, wondered how her dorm mate knew all this. But then 'Batty' Bagshot, as her classmates called her when she wasn't around, subscribed to Wizard News and World Report, Minutes of Ministry Meetings, and Today's Magicosm and had probably read every history book in the school library. She had to be much better informed on the true state of magical affairs than the average witch-in-the-street.

Mina concentrated on collecting supplies and reading up on the possible animals they might meet. She would also be responsible for keeping Bubo in sight on their trip. To this end, she made friends with Raymie Sykes, who had a set of Multi-oculars that she thought would come in handy in tracking her pet. They were made for watching Quidditch matches, and she asked to borrow them on the pretense of needing them for a birding expedition her parents had planned. They looked like Muggle binoculars but had a number of interesting knobs and dials, the use of which Raymie explained to her and Minerva enthusiastically.

"See this button?" he said. "If you press it, it identifies the type of Quidditch formation or ploy you're seeing."

"Would it recognize the Hurdle, do you think?" Minerva asked, purely to make conversation.

"The move your dad invented? Probably. But no one uses it anymore, at least not that I've seen."

Mina, who had no interest in Quidditch, demanded to see a feature that could help her observe golden eagles in flight.

"Oh, here. The Tracker. Homes in on whatever you tell it to, and doesn't let up. You've got to be careful though. There's always the possibility of severe whiplash if your favorite player--er--bird--makes a sharp turn."

"Does it have a Close-Up feature?" asked Minerva.

"Of course." He led her over to a Common Room window and told her to look through the lenses. When he hit the Zoom button, Minerva got a view of a female teacher undressing in the next tower over.

"That's--erm-- pretty good, Raymie."

"Oh, I don't know. It'd be better if it could slow things down or play back what you just saw."

Minerva just nodded. A magigadget that could manipulate time? That kind of advancement would take another millennium to develop, she was sure.

They prepared to launch over the Easter holidays. Each had forged a note with Suze's Enhancement Pen to give to Professor Binns, saying they had permission to go home to celebrate the Equinox with their families.

~*~

Now they were on the Dreadnought, following Bubo through an endless fog bank. Behind Minerva, Mina watched the flight of her pet through the Multi-oculars. Hildy, in the back, holding a turnip-sized compass, called out a string of seemingly unrelated numbers, somehow related to the map shehad spread out on herknees. Minerva peered into the grayness around her.

Messenger owls are trained to stay in the clouds during the day to avoid Muggle eyes, and Bubo held closely to this rule. Minerva and Hildy had expected him to land occasionally to relieve himself, but after several hours of non-stop flight, Mina informed them that all birds defecate 'on the fly,' and that they'd just have to hold it until he alit for a rest.

The first stage of the journey passed like a boring dream for Minerva. Bubo flew an almost straight line. But all too soon it started growing dark and very cold. It got harder and harder to pick out their guide in the mist, and they even lost him at one point. Minerva urged the Dreadnought to the limits of its velocity. They were catching up to something, but it wasn't an owl or any kind of bird. It looked more like a figure on a broomstick. and she thought she recognized who. She had pursued him often on the pitch out back of Macmillan's. It was Petey. It had to be. She looked over her shoulder to shout the news to her companions. But the back of the broom was empty. What happened? Had both Hildy and Mina slid off when she accelerated? She had heard no cries, felt no lightening of the load.

She tried to go to ground, to look for her friends. Forget Petey. He was obviously fine if he had his own broom. But the Dreadnought would not obey her mental command, and in fact speeded up towards the other broomstick. Perhaps its weight was just too much for the Braking Charm. She'd have to tell Da…She was right behind the other broomstick now. She could, if she reached out, touch its twiggy tail. But the tail had changed. The twigs were whitish, like they'd been burned to ash. But no, they weren't twigs, but bones, small and thin, like the bones of the Pogrebin her father had nailed up over the front gate of the farm. And now the flyer turned around. Reached around and broke a bone off the end of the broom. It wasn't Petey at all. It was a creature with silvery white fur and long narrow feet. The yeti. She heard again the slavering breath, the screaming howl. It took the bone into its mouth and crunched it. She looked into its eyes. They were ringed with black circles. This made it look like the creature never slept, ever. There was an impersonal, implacable hatred in those eyes. It reached for her with an abnormally long arm. She lurched back and lost her balance. Now she too was falling. Oddly she passed Mina and Hildy on the way down, as if she were a rock, and they just leaves in the wind. "'Nerva, 'Nerva," they called, reaching their arms out to her.

~*~

"'Nerva, Greatrakes alive, 'Nerva!"

"Wha--don't call me that...."

"Sorry. That must've been some dream." Minerva opened her eyes. Suze Yorke was staring into her face, her long curly hair dangling perilously close to Minerva's mouth.

"Dream? But I was...we were...."

"When you didn't come down for breakfast, we got worried." Mineva turned her head. It was Hildy talking now. "We've been trying to wake you for the longest time."

"Nineteen seconds to be precise," said Mina who was studying her like an interesting variation of flobberworm.

Hildy hugged a blanket to herself. A plaid blanket. Minerva's blanket.

"What are you doing with my plaidie?"

Hildy tossed it back to her. "When we couldn't get you up by natural means, we tried cooling you down. Mina was just about douse you." Mina held up a pitcher of ice water.

Minerva sat up. "You wouldn't dare!"

"Well, you were thrashing about so at the end, we were afraid you were having a fit."

So it was just a dream. And from the look of the sky, it was about eight a.m. They were way overdue to start their journey.

"I need to pee, and then we've got to get going--"

Hildy put a hand on her arm. "No, Min, Susannah has news, wonderful news."

"I got an owl from my dad," Suze gushed. "They found Petey!"

"What?"

"It's true. Dad was so angry when I wrote to him about the Laird yelling at me, he went up to Macnair Castle to have it out with him. That's where he got the news. Saw Petey himself. He's fine."

"How did they--?"

"Oh, Walden's been crowing about it all through breakfast. Says it was his idea. Can you believe it? They sent out an eagle owl with a letter for him, and a legion of the Laird's men followed it. Too simple, really."

Minerva looked at Mina. She looked mildly put-out. But Hildy was livid.

"Which one of you told?" she hissed after Suze left the dorm.

"What are you saying?" shouted Minerva, equally indignant. But she quieted immediately as Mina held up her hand.

"We none of us would tell. For one thing we haven't had time to talk to anyone with the preparations and all. I'd say our behavior was enough to make someone suspicious. You know--borrowing Raymie's Multi-Oculars, smuggling food up from the dining room...."

"But that wouldn't make them guess your idea, Mina, about following Bubo," retorted Hildy. "There must have been a spy in our midst."

"Who," said Minerva. "Suze? She's been too busy crying."

"Raymie. It's Raymie I bet!"

Mina chuckled. "That one couldn't put two and two together if you waggled four fingers in front of his face."

"Oh..." A look of comprehension came over Hildy's face. "That first night in the common room when you explained your idea, Mina. There was a boy... that chalk-cheeked twerp with the big space between his teeth... sitting a couple of tables over from us. I thought he was engrossed in his homework, but...."

"You mean Magnus? Magnus MacDonald? But he wouldn't," said Minerva. "He despises Walden."

"Loyalties change," said Hildy. "I'm going to have a talk with him. Magnus, you say?"

~*~

In the end, it was Minerva who approached Magnus. Under all his swagger and boasting, Minerva thought him to be very sensitive about his mediocrity. The plain-spoken Hildy could shatter his pride with her careless questions. And Mina made Hildy see that it needed an old friend to broach the subject, to keep the 'rat' from bolting.

Minerva cornered him in an empty classroom where he was practicing the Leviosa charm. "Why are you doing that?"

"Getting ready for O.W.L.s. I know they're still a year away, but Miss Trumulo says if I practice an extra hour every day..." A flush crept over his cheeks as he said her name. Apparently Vivi Trumulo had not 'charmed' only Raymie Sykes.

"Looks pretty good," Minerva remarked as he sent a quill wafting into the air for the third time in as many tries.

The flush grew brighter and spread to the tips of his ears. Magnus lapped up any little bit of praise. He heard it so rarely. "Miss Trumulo says it's all in the wrist."

"Um, Magnus, I don't want to interrupt you or anything, but I have to ask you something important."

"That's all right, Minerva, what do you want to know?" Appealing to his superior knowledge was second only to praise in satisfying his thirsty ego. Minerva regretted that she would shortly be snatching that cup from his lips, but she had to know the truth.

"You know how Petey was found, right?" Magnus nodded. "And they're saying it was Waldo's idea to look for him, following the owl. But that doesn't sound like him, does it? I mean, he's not known for his brains or imagination…"

"Uh, well, that's not entirely fair, do you think? He is a prefect after all…that must mean he has some intelligence…" His blush was beginning to congeal into red blotches, one on the tip of his skinny, pointed nose.

"But you said..."

"I know I talked about him being the best of a bad bunch, but that's just a joke. Everybody says that, even his friends. But I--I've got to know him better, and he's quite a decent chap really." Magnus was fidgeting with his wand now, his face drained of color.

Minerva suddenly decided she'd had enough of diplomacy. "You told him, didn't you?"

"Told him what?"

"About Mina's idea. You overheard us talking in the common room... and told Walden Macnair... about us planning to follow Bubo...."

Magnus hung his head, but she could see he had his eyes tight shut. Tear droplets were squeezing out and getting caught in the almost-white lashes. It was this finally that drove her anger away. "It's all right, Magnus. He's a bully, Walden is. If he threatened you..."

"He didn't! I went to him myself. He was angry about the Swedish race thing. Had his heart set on competing--just like I did. I didn't mean to keep the part about the dragons dark, I just...thought everyone should hear about the good parts first, you ken? I thought I could make peace with him, so I told him…about your--your friend's idea. I thought it would patch things up between us. I'm sorry, Minerva. I shouldn't have done it. It didn't seem like such a good idea anyway--kind of dangerous, you ken? I didn't really want you to try it...."

"What? Are you my mother or something? First Dugald, now you..."

"Aye, that one. He...he really likes you, Minerva."

"Who?"

"Nothing. Forget it. But listen. I've got a bit of advice for you. You know Waldo--well--he's been seen around with your cousin, that Campbell fellow, and they say..."

"What?"

"I shouldn't tell you."

She didn't want to say, "You owe me, Magnus," but her glare must have looked the words because he sighed and went on. "Your aunt Campbell has been very friendly with the Macnairs lately, and I overheard Walden bragging that Milady and your aunt were going to make you sorry you were ever born."

"What are they going to do?"

Magnus quailed under her sharp stare. "I--I wouldn't worry about it, Minerva. It's probably no more than telling your dad that you're a nasty little nit. You know Waldo. Always exaggerating things, especially unpleasantness."

Minerva nodded. That was the difference between Magnus McDonald and Walden Macnair. Magnus's boasting was of the pleasant guess-what-I-know variety. Walden's was just plain nasty.