Thanquol climbed up the tower steps irritably. Yes, his duty was an honour, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be a pain in the backside at times. Still, he thought to himself, at least he didn’t have to worry himself with the cats anymore. He had managed to pass that task onto Gideon a few years back. ‘Greeting cats is a job for cats,’ he had told the Kneazlegamot. It had taken some pushing to get the move forward; Vincent and Jurgen hadn’t liked the idea of a cat on the Kneazlegamot one bit. Thankfully, Thanquol had managed to get the proposal past them. In his eyes, popularity came a poor second to avoiding the chore of explaining how portraits worked to idiotic kittens.
Now, he was in charge of monitoring the humans, and found himself a great deal higher on the wall as a result. It had been Vincent’s old duty, in the days before Egrimm’s accident. Thanquol didn’t suppose he would find himself in Vincent’s new seat any time soon. The blue Kneazle was considerably wiser than his predecessor, who had found out the hard way that battling a horde of Acromantula was not an easy task. “Egrimm-the-All-Powerful”, they used to call him. These days, he was known as “Egrimm-the-Dead.” Thanquol couldn’t say he missed him. True, he and Teclis had been a formidable partnership, but Vincent was an infinitely more stable Kneazle, and Thanquol was very fond of stability.
The irritatingly heavy scent of incense had hit Thanquol’s nose before he had even reached the tower, but at the top it was unbearable. Thanquol leapt onto the sill and opened the window in haste, desperate to get away from the overpowering stench. The gust of wind rifled through his fur, and the Kneazle had to adjust to the conditions before stepping onto the wooden sill outside.
The window slammed shut behind him as soon as his tail had cleared it. Thanquol sat there for a moment, his eyes narrowed against the howling wind blowing around the tower. He shivered. It was absolutely freezing up here, and Thanquol wished he could’ve diverted some of his magic into warming himself up. As it was, he had to spend most of his energy focusing on staying upright. He peered down over the edge of the sill. It was a long way down. Thanquol was no mathematician, but he could tell that the distance was at least lots of tail-to-heads, possibly even many. Shrugging and supposing it wasn’t going to get any warmer if he waited, Thanquol moved on.
At least, he thought to himself, as he clawed his way along the tower tiles towards the inner turrets, it was all down from here. There were a couple of tricky leaps, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Still, the journey was irksome. It wasn’t one he usually had to make, but Teclis had been insistent. Normally, it was just a case of checking up with that Minerva woman. She was positively likeable, for a human. At least she understood decent milk protocols. Hell, at least she had a door you could enter through, thought Thanquol, as he landed gracefully upon one of the lower ramparts.
The wind did not howl through so much at this level, and Thanquol took a moment to examine the grey autumn sky above him. Over the mountains he could see dark clouds brewing ominously. He cursed to himself. Dark clouds meant rain, and Thanquol hated the stuff. He wasn’t alone. Rainy days were generally seen as wasted days by most of the Kneazles. Teclis and Vincent might carry on with whatever they were doing, but even they didn’t like to be outside when it rained. There was only one Kneazle that did, and he was the reason Thanquol was here now. Nagash.
Thanquol sighed as he headed onward. Nagash was a strange one, all right. It wasn’t just rain, the Kneazle’s whole attitude was somehow skewed. Normally a lack of history wouldn’t have bothered Thanquol “ it wasn’t for him or the Kneazlegamot to demand a fellow Kneazle’s past “ but Nagash talked like he didn’t even have one. No mention of past events, no boasting of old accomplishments, no backing up predictions, nothing. Maybe it was a foreign thing, thought Thanquol. Perhaps, wherever Nagash was from, that was simply how things were done. Maybe all the nonsense about this bet was just a case of that. It certainly wasn’t how things were done here. Here, they kept things stable.
Thanquol jumped onto the final turret and came to rest above the window. He could already make out the sounds of talking within.
‘You know, Albus, I could probably deal with it if she wasn’t involved,’ said a voice that Thanquol recognised as Minerva’s. ‘But when I have the two of them telling me this, day after day…’
‘There was no deceit in the boy’s eyes, Minerva,’ replied a voice Thanquol knew to be the headmaster’s.
‘Then you think he’s right?’
‘I think,’ said the headmaster slowly, ‘that he is not aware that he could be wrong.’
‘Well, you can say that again,’ replied Minerva. ‘Do you know what he said to me today?’
Thanquol sighed, gripped hold of the gutter by his feet and opened the window. With a single breath he hooked himself over the end and landed gracefully onto the sill, before walking elegantly across the table and down onto the floor.
The headmaster’s office was warmer than the cold air outside, and even on a grey day such as this, it seemed well lit. One source of light and warmth was the familiar red glow emanating from the phoenix perched above him. Thanquol stared up at it, a familiar feeling rising up in his stomach. In different surroundings, Thanquol felt that he and it might have had the other on their menu. As it was, there was stability to think about. That, and chronic indigestion.
‘We should keep an eye on him, certainly. He gets on well enough with his classmates?’ asked the headmaster, as Thanquol walked gracefully around his desk.
The headmaster and Minerva had not been alone. Also present was a third man, another human who Thanquol had seen around the dungeons. It was Thanquol’s job to ascertain which humans were pre-disposed to them, and upon first smelling him Thanquol had recognised that he was a lost cause. Mercifully, the scent of plants and insects was strong upon him, at least to Thanquol’s nose, and subsequently he was easily avoidable.
Thanquol jumped onto the headmaster’s desk, and turned his back to Minerva and the man.
‘Things between the two of them don’t seem so good, that is for certain, and frankly I worry about his effect on the other “’
‘Good afternoon, Headmaster,’ said Thanquol, in his most diplomatic voice. ‘The Kneazlegamot requires your attention.’
There was a pause in the conversation. Perhaps this wasn’t going to go so badly after all, thought Thanquol. He pressed his advantage.
‘Leave us,’ he instructed to the other two.
‘I think you’ll find,’ said the other man icily, ‘that we were already having a conversation.’
Thanquol closed his eyes and took a deep breath. That was the trouble with humans. If you caught one on their own, they were manageable. In groups, however, they were prone to ideas above their station. Best to ignore them when they were like that.
‘Perhaps, headmaster,’ continued the man, ‘he might benefit from a change of scenery “’
‘Stay then,’ interrupted Thanquol. ‘We have business to discuss, however, that does not concern you.’
The man paused again. Good, thought Thanquol, at least he’s capable of learning. To his irritation, however, he found himself interrupted by Minerva this time.
‘Can this not wait, Thanquol?’ she said shortly. ‘I’ll be happy to “’
‘I’m afraid that Teclis asked me for the ear of the headmaster himself, Minerva. We will discuss our business afterwards.’
‘And what exactly can I do for dear Teclis today?’ asked the headmaster warmly.
Thanquol turned his back fully on the other two now. He had the headmaster’s ear, and he relaxed his posture somewhat.
‘The Arch-Kneazle is troubled, Headmaster. He feels there have been several important arrivals within our walls of late, none of which have been properly revealed to us. He seeks some answers.
‘The first,’ continued Thanquol, without waiting for a reply, ‘concerns a Kneazle that entered the grounds a few years ago. Are you familiar with Nagash?’
‘I was under the impression,’ replied the headmaster, ‘that the Kneazlegamot was well capable of keeping track of their own members.’
‘Indeed we are,’ said Thanquol. ‘Yet this one is unusual, and has not explained his arrival. Teclis was under the impression that you might know more about him.’
‘What does he look like?’ interrupted Minerva.
Thanquol sighed. This was going predictably slowly.
‘Short black fur, hard-red eyes, long-medium tail, semi-short clawed. Impact scars upon his chin, nose and front legs, with long scars along his midriff “ none visible in normal light. Are you familiar with him?’
‘I cannot say that I am,’ replied the headmaster, with a glance over Thanquol’s shoulder towards Minerva. ‘May I ask what is troubling you about him?’
‘He is not a companion of any of the humans, then?’ asked Thanquol brusquely, feeling his patience drain out of him.
The headmaster once again looked at Minerva and the man.
‘He doesn’t belong to anyone in my house,’ said Minerva.
‘Severus?’
There was a pause before the man replied in the same slow, icy voice he had used before.
‘Are we seriously entering into this conversation?’ he asked coldly. ‘I was under the impression that I came here to discuss “’
‘Yes, we are,’ said Thanquol, without turning around. In front of him the headmaster smiled, and nodded towards the man.
‘There are no cats of that description in my house’s common room,’ he said eventually, with no more warmth. ‘And I would be certain if there was.’
‘Unlikely,’ said Thanquol, before readdressing the headmaster. ‘You have seen no trace of him, then?’
‘I could consult the other teachers if you would like, Thanquol, it is possible “’
‘Do so,’ said Thanquol firmly, though he didn’t hold much hope. ‘Any searches will, however, be done in the utmost secrecy. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Thanquol,’ said Minerva warningly, ‘this has echoes of the Malekith incident, and I won’t have that repeated.’
Thanquol pawed the desk irritably. Malekith had been a Kneazle here lots of years back, when Thanquol was a young Kneazle in an unseated position on the Kneazlegamot. Malekith had been contesting leadership with Nakai, and it had turned very ugly. The subsequent duel to the death had culminated in Malekith ripping the head off his dying opponent. Unfortunately, the event had been witnessed by several of the younger humans; who lacked the constitution for such things. Malekith’s spell as leader had been short lived; the humans had forcibly removed him from the grounds the following day. The Kneazles didn’t mind, since it had allowed for Teclis to become Arch-Kneazle “ as was the condition of his bet. Things were much more stable now, but Malekith’s expulsion served as a reminder that the humans could be very intolerant of such behaviour. Thanquol didn’t care for that level of instability to return.
‘That is precisely why we are looking into Nagash,’ said Thanquol eventually. ‘I cannot ever see him challenging Teclis, but prudence dictates that we investigate to make certain our assumptions. He is a curiosity, not a threat.
‘The next question, then,’ continued Thanquol, even more irritably, ‘concerns any new arrivals you may wish to let us know about.’
‘I don’t see why we need to discuss this now,’ replied Minerva. ‘I have already told you that I “’
‘Not this year,’ said Thanquol shortly.
‘What do you mean, Thanquol?’ asked the headmaster politely.
Thanquol closed his eyes in irritation, but this time it was not reserved for the humans. Teclis had asked him to consult the humans on this, yet had provided no details whatsoever. All he talked about was an odd feeling, and had little to back it up. As it was, Thanquol found himself wondering if the Arch-Kneazle was growing senile. Still, until that was proven, Thanquol would have to carry on his duties.
‘Have there been any arrivals you would care to let us know about?’ repeated Thanquol mechanically. ‘Anyone out of the ordinary arriving?’
‘Thanquol,’ replied the headmaster, with such patience that the Kneazle found himself even more irritated, ‘we are a school of wizardry. Barely a year goes by without…’
Thanquol let the words wash over him. All the kind words in the world couldn’t disguise the fact that either the headmaster didn’t know, or else he wasn’t going to say. He scratched his left ear irritably, feeling the questions he was asking were quite as pointless as the answers he was receiving. Eager to get out of the room and back to the Kneazlegamot, he moved onto the last question.
‘There are also two humans we are interested in. Two students,’ he added, before Minerva could interrupt. ‘Luke Oakshot and Gordon Owen.’
Thanquol did not need any magic to detect the change of atmosphere.
‘What’ve they “’ began Professor McGonagall, but the headmaster interrupted.
‘A moment, please, Minerva,’ he said kindly. ‘Why would any of the students concern the Kneazlegamot, Thanquol?’
Thanquol let loose a satisfied smile. There were answers here, for sure.
‘You are familiar with them, then?’
‘I am still curious as to why you should be interested in them, Thanquol. I’m afraid I was under the impression that Kneazles didn’t interest themselves in human behaviour.’
Not without good reason, thought Thanquol, swishing his tail.
‘They are enemies?’
‘No,’ said Minerva automatically. ‘As it happens “’
‘Forgive me, Thanquol,’ interrupted the headmaster, ‘I believe you were explaining your interest?’
‘They are friends, then?’ said Thanquol, ignoring him. ‘That is good. Teclis will be pleased with that piece of news, at least. Is there anything else we should know about them?’
None of the humans responded, and the atmosphere in the room changed from tense to outright cold.
‘As you are then, we will find out in time, I am sure “’
‘It is not your business to find out,’ interrupted the other man icily.
‘Our business is whatever we choose it to be,’ finished Thanquol, standing up. ‘I will be in contact later today for our standard chat, Minerva. Ensure that my milk is suitably warmed.’
Thanquol was certain that had she been in her proper form, Minerva would have hissed at this. The other man practically hissed as it was. Thanquol could have cared less. He jumped down from the desk, and walked elegantly out of the door, which opened for him quite naturally, before shutting itself firmly behind him. As one last measure, he pointed his ears towards the office door as he walked away. There was nothing to catch, apart from the mutterings of the other man.
‘God, I hate cats.’
Thanquol stopped in his tracks, and turned around.
‘I am no cat!’ he called back towards the office door. ‘I am a Kneazle!’
There was no response, so Thanquol walked back down towards the kitchens. God, he hated humans.
Gordon Owen and the Eastern Warrior - Book Two of the Evil Kneazle Series by AurorKeefy
Story Notes:
This story is the sequel to The Odd Gryffindors and is the second book in the Evil Kneazle series!
Chapter Notes: So it begins...
Beta thanks to Hermoine Jean Granger, and to the sadly-now-departed Snape's Talon!