5.
Nearly Headless Nick directed a carriage containing Percy, Marguerite, and Leon over miles of open country, until they came upon what he had told them about -- a large, tumble-down old castle.
"Where are we -- a monastery of some sort?" Percy ventured to ask. People in long, flowing robes were heading this way and that, muttering in Latin.
"Actually," Porpington supplied, "it's a school undergoing some remodeling. That triwizard tournament last year practically destroyed the place. These people are in the process of installing anti-Muggle...I mean, safety precautions. Making sure the walls don't fall down and such."
"It doesn't look like a monastery," Marguerite said, "unless you count that fat friar over there." Another ghost was joking with one of the robed inhabitants.
"Fat Friar!" Nearly Headless Nick exclaimed, "and Nearly Headless Nick. Madame, you certainly have a knack for names. I'll remember to tell him later. Ghosts need catchy monikers -- I told him calling himself Frederico the Bald wouldn't get him anywhere."
"Niram," Porpington said to a woman in a deep blue robe, "Niram, there's a dying man with me with wounds a few taps of the wand will take care of in no time."
Leon lay down in the carriage, and the Blakeneys watched in silence as she drew a small vial from inside her robes and, muttering something in Latin, poured the contents into the deep cuts in his head. The wounds steamed green for a moment, but Leon didn't appear to feel a thing. Niram then took a long twig and, muttering a second incantation, ran it across his forehead. The cuts sealed themselves up. "You might have to wait a few hours for the change to be complete, and, of course, he'll need a Memory Charm, but he's going to be fine. And, Porpington," she began.
"Nearly Headless Nick," he corrected.
"Cute! Well, Nearly Headless Nick, perhaps you could see if you could give your guests the tour. You should check with the new Head of Construction first, but he'll probably let you by. His name's Snape, and he's incredibly nice."
The Head of Construction was Arius Snape, a pleasant-looking young man in reddish robes. He was just finishing a list of improvements to be made on the dungeon that would allow it to become a classroom; a classroom where, several generations later, Arius' own great-great-great-great grandson would be giving hell to a bunch of eleven-year olds. Percy gave him Sir Cadogan, who was boasting loudly of his exploits. Arius beckoned to one of his workers. He told him to put Cadogen up in the North Tower: first, it needed the furnishing, and second, it was far away enough that few people had to hear him. Porpington asked Arius about giving the Blakeneys a small tour, if they were sure not to disturb anything. Arius called Porpington aside. "Is--er--she a veela?" he asked, indicating Marguerite.
"No, she's quite human."
"She looks like a veela," Arius continued, "she sounds like a veela, she sm-- well, I confess I've never smelled a veela, but still,one has to take precautions. I'll take your word for it, Porpington. Unless," Arius said, "unless he's a veela."
Porpington looked bewildered. "He's a man."
"His mother could have been a veela," Arius countered.
"Arius, they're Muggles, Muggle nobility, no less, and they don't have any idea what you're talking about."
"Muggles?" Sir Percy asked once they had been cleared to go on
"Muggles," Porpington explained, "though it sounds rather insulting, merely means 'people who are not wizards'."
"And veela?" Marguerite queried.
"Veela are blonde-haired, blue-eyed creatures that look like radiantly beautiful women."
"And why would that be cause for concern?" Percy said slyly.
"They also transform into lizardlike birds and throw fire when provoked."
"Veela," Percy said aloud. "I would have guessed it was a kind of seafood."
The interior of the castle would have made an interesting tour if it had been only a regular castle. It was full of pictures, statues, and other artifacts. But the portraits said hello (or various other things, depending on how polite they were), the suits of armor waved, and hallways seemed to be constantly rearranging themselves. The workers were fascinating too -- Marguerite saw a man turning a plain wall into a fireplace -- with only a wooden wand. She had also seen a sort of wizarding family tree on one of the walls. On the very outer reaches of the tree, in a place reserved for people with but a tiny fraction of wizardry in their heritage, Marguerite could have sworn she saw "Blakeney." Perhaps, she thought, a few drops of wizard blood would give somebody a slight advantage over the rest of the world; perhaps, a little extra luck, a few more odds than fell in your favor.
Nearly Headless Nick declined their invitation back to Blakeney Manor, saying that he really belonged here. He might, he said, come for a visit sometime. "Nick," Marguerite asked, "how did you happen to be in Percy's study in the first place?"
"I was visiting the spirit who lives in your fireplaces. She's terribly shy, but completely harmless, I assure you."
Leon had his memory charmed, so he wouldn't remember anything of his stay at the castle. But, by a stroke of luck, there was an emergency in the East Tower -- apparently something called "peeves" was dropping things out the window -- and Percy and Marguerite were able to escape with their memories intact.
"Percy," Marguerite said, "tomorrow, you are going to prove to me that this wasn't all a dream."
"M'dear," he said, "I'll remind you first thing in the morning. You'll say, 'what did we do yesterday?' and I'll say, 'Don't you remember? We brought a half-dead man back to life, talked to a painting, and made friends with a man who's been dead for two hundred and ninety-three years. And then you'll say to me, 'Percy, you're a lunatic,' and you'll go back to sleep."
"For who's been dead two hundred and eighty-five years,"Marguerite said, "he was really quite charming."