Magic dragon the dragonstone

Spike’s last month with the Riders wasn’t fun. True, Lighting Dust was now so scared of Spike he wouldn’t stay in the same room, while Aunt Petunia and Uncle Wind rider didn’t shut Spike in his cupboard, force him to do anything, or shout at him — in fact, they didn’t speak to him at all. Half terrified, half furious, they acted as though any chair with Spike in it were empty. Although this was an improvement in many ways, it did become a bit depressing after a while. Spike kept to his room, with his new Phoenix for company. He had decided to call him Pee-wee, a name he had found in A History of Magic. His school books were very interesting. He lay on his bed reading late into the night, pee wee swooping in and out of the open window as he pleased. It was lucky that Aunt Petunia didn’t come in to vacuum anymore, because pee wee kept bringing back dead mice. Every night before he went to sleep, Spike ticked off another day on the piece of paper he had pinned to the wall, counting down to September the first. On the last day of August he thought he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to Alicorn’s Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there, and Lighting Dust screamed and ran from the room.

“Er — Uncle Wind rider?”

Uncle Wind rider grunted to show he was listening.

“Er — I need to be at Alicorn's Cross tomorrow to — to go to Celestia's School.”

Uncle Wind rider grunted again.

“Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?”

Grunt. Spike supposed that meant yes.

“Thank you.”

He was about to go back upstairs when Uncle Wind rider actually spoke.

“Funny way to get to a magic creaser school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?”

Spike didn’t say anything.

“Where is this school, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” said Spike, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket Rutherford had given him out of his pocket.

“I just take the train from platform seven and three-bits at eleven o’clock,” he read.

His aunt and uncle stared.

“Platform what?”

“seven and three-bits.”

“Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Wind rider. “There is no platform seven and three-bits.”

“It’s on my ticket.”

“Barking,” said Uncle Wind rider, “howling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll take you to Alicorn’s Cross. We’re going up to Canterlot tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.”

“Why are you going to Canterlot?” Spike asked, trying to keep things friendly.

“Taking Lighting Dust to the hospital,” growled Uncle Wind rider. “Got to have that ruddy tail removed before she goes to Smeltings.”

Spike woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his magic creature’s robes — he’d change on the train. He checked his Celestia School list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed, saw that pee wee was shut safely in his cage, and then paced the room, waiting for the Riders to get up. Two hours later, Spike’s huge, heavy trunk had been loaded into the Riders’ chariot, Aunt Petunia had talked Lighting Dust into sitting next to Spike, and they had set off.

They reached Alicorn’s Cross at half past ten. Uncle Wind rider dumped Spike’s trunk onto a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Spike thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Wind rider stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face.

“Well, there you are, boy. Platform seven — platform three. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don’t seem to have built it yet, do they?”

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

“Have a good term,” said Uncle Wind rider with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Spike turned and saw the Riders threw away. All three of them were laughing. Spike’s mouth went rather dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because of Celestia School. He’d have to ask somepony.

He stopped a passing guard, but didn’t dare mention platform seven and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Celestia school and when Spike couldn’t even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Spike was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Spike asked for the train that left at eleven o’clock, but the guard said there wasn’t one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Spike was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he had ten minutes left to get on the train to Celestia School and he had no idea how to do it; he was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of magic creature money, and a large Phoenix.

Rutherford must have forgotten to tell him something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Griffin Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector’s stand between platforms seven and three.

At that moment a group of Griffins passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.

“— packed with Muggles, of course —”

Spike swung round. The speaker was a plump female Griffin who was talking to four Griffin girls, all with puffy feathers. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Spike’s in front of him — and they had an birds.

Heart hammering, Spike pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

“Now, what’s the platform number?” said the Griffin boys’ mother.

“seven and three-bits!” piped a small griffin girl, also buffer furr, who was holding her talent. “Mum, can’t I go . . .” “You’re not old enough, gabby, now be quiet. All right, Griffa, you go first.”

What looked like the oldest Griffin girl marched toward platforms seven and three. Spike watched, careful not to blink in case he missed it — but just as the griffin girl reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of her and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the griffin girl had vanished.

“Gilda, you next,” the plump female griffin said.

“I’m not Gilda, I’m Feather,” said the griffin girl. “Honestly, Griffin, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m Feather?”

“Sorry, Feather, dear.”

“Only joking, I am Gilda,” said the griffin girl, and off she went. Her twin called after her to hurry up, and she must have done so, because a second later, she had gone — but how had she done it?

Now the four griffin girl was walking briskly toward the barrier — she was almost there — and then, quite suddenly, she wasn’t anywhere.

There was nothing else for it.

“Excuse me,” Spike said to the plump female griffin.

“Hello, dear,” she said. “First time at Celestia School? Gallas’s new, too.”

She pointed at her only son. He was tall, thin, and gangling, with blue feather, big challenge and lion paws, and a long beak.

“Yes,” said Spike. “The thing is — the thing is, I don’t know how to —”

“How to get onto the platform?” she said kindly, and Spike nodded.

“Not to worry,” she said. “All you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms seven and three. Don’t stop and don’t be scared you’ll crash into it, that’s very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you’re nervous. Go on, go now before Gallas.”

“Er — okay,” said Spike.

He pushed his trolley around and stared at the barrier. It looked very solid.

He started to walk toward it. Ponies jostled him on their way to platforms seven and three. Spike walked more quickly. He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he’d be in trouble — leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run — the barrier was coming nearer and nearer — he wouldn’t be able to stop — the cart was out of control — he was a foot away — he closed his eyes ready for the crash —

It didn’t come . . . he kept on running . . . he opened his eyes.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with creatures. A sign overhead said Celestia School Express, eleven o’clock. Spike looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform seven and Three-bits on it. He had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Birds cheap and squawk to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Spike pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced pony colt who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.”

“Oh, Pipsqueak,” he heard the old mare sigh.

A zebra colt with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

“Give us a look, Lee, go on.”

The Zebra colt lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the creatures around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Spike pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He put Pee-wee inside first and then started to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

“Want a talent?” It was one of the Griffin twin girl she’d followed through the barrier.

“Yes, please,” Spike panted.

“Oy, Gilda! C’mere and help!”

With the twins’ help, Spike’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

“Thanks,” said Spike, pushing his sweaty scales out of his eyes.

“What’s that?” said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Spike’s x scar.

“By Celestia,” said the other twin. “Are you — ?”

“He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Spike.

“What?” said Spike.
“Spike Drago,” chorused the twins.
“Oh, him,” said Spike. “I mean, yes, I am.”

The two griffin girl gawked at him, and Spike felt himself turning red. Then, to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train’s open door.

“Gilda? Feather? Are you there?”

“Coming, Mum.”

With a last look at Spike, the twins hopped off the train.

Spike sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her hoovfkerchief.

“Gallus, you’ve got something on your beak.”

The only griffin boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his beak.

“Mum — geroff.” He wriggled free.

“Aaah, has ickle Gallie got somefink on his beak?” said one of the twins.

“Shut up,” said Gallus.
“Where’s Griffa?” said their mother.
“She’s coming now.”

The oldest griffin girl came striding into sight. She had already changed into his billowing black Celestia's School robes, and Spike noticed a shiny red-and-gold badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

“Can’t stay long, Mother,” she said. “I’m up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves —” “Oh, are you a prefect, Griffa?” said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. “You should have said something, we had no idea.”

“Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it,” said the other twin. “Once —”

“Or twice —”

“A minute —”
“All summer —”

“Oh, shut up,” said Griffa the Prefect.

“How come Griffa gets new robes, anyway?” said one of the twins.

“Because she’s a prefect,” said their mother fondly. “All right, dear, well, have a good term — send me an raven when you get there.”

She kissed Griffa on the cheek and she left. Then she turned to the twins.

“Now, you two — this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more bird telling me you’ve — you’ve blown up a toilet or —”

“Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet.” “Great idea though, thanks, Mum.”
“It’s not funny. And look after Gallus.”
“Don’t worry, ickle Gallusiekins is safe with us.”

“Shut up,” said Gallus again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his beak was still pink where his mother had rubbed it.

“Hey, Mum, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?”

Spike leaned back quickly so they couldn’t see him looking.

“You know that purple-scale dragon boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?”

“Who?”
“Spike drago!”

Spike heard the little girl’s voice.

“Oh, Mum, can I go on the train and see him, Mum, oh please. . . .”

“You’ve already seen him, Gabby, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Gilda? How do you know?”

“Asked him. Saw his scar. It’s really there — like a x.”

“Poor dear — no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform.”

“Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?”

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

“I forbid you to ask him, Gilda. No, don’t you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school.”

“All right, keep your feathers on.”

A whistle sounded.

“spike up!” their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger griffin girl began to cry.

“Don’t, Ginny, we’ll send you loads of ravens.”
“We’ll send you a Celestia School toilet seat.

“Feather!”
“Only joking, Mum.”

The train began to move. Spike saw the Griffin girls and griffin boy’ mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.

Spike watched the youngest griffin girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. Spike felt a great leap of excitement. He didn’t know what he was going to — but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the only griffin boy came in.

“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Spike. “Everywhere else is full.”

Spike shook his head and the griffin boy sat down. He glanced at Spike and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn’t looked. Spike saw he still had a black mark on his beak.

“Hey, Gallus.”
The twins were back.

“Listen, we’re going down the middle of the train — Lee troubleshoot’s got a giant tarantula down there.”

“Right,” mumbled Gallus.

“Spike,” said the other twin, “did we introduce ourselves? Gilda and Feather gruff. And this is Gallus, our brother. See you later, then.”

“Bye,” said Spike and Gallus. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

“Are you really Spike Drago?” Gallus blurted out.

Spike nodded.

“Oh — well, I thought it might be one of Gilda and Feather’s jokes,” said Gallus. “And have you really got — you know . . .”

He pointed at Spike’s cheek.

Spike turned his head to show the x scar. Gallus stared.

“So that’s where You-Know-Who — ?”
“Yes,” said Spike, “but I can’t remember it.” “Nothing?” said Gallus eagerly.

“Well — I remember a lot of green fire, but nothing else.”

“Wow,” said Gallus. He sat and stared at Spike for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

“Are all your family griffins?” asked Spike, who found Gallus just as interesting as Gallus found him.

“Er — yes, I think so,” said Gallus. “I think Mum’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

“So you must know loads of magic already.”

The Gruffs were clearly one of those old magic creature families the pale dragon boy in Grffin Alley had talked about.

“I heard you went to live with Muggles,” said Gallus. “What are they like?”

“Horrible — well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though. Wish I’d had three griffin sisters.”

“Five,” said Gallus. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. “I’m the sixth in our family to go to Celestia School. You could say I’ve got a lot to live up to. Cinderella and Coreline have already left — Cinderella was head girl and Coraline was captain of fireball. Now Griffa’s a prefect. Gilda and Feather mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they’re really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it’s no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five sister. I’ve got Cinderella’s old robes, Coraline’s old wand, and Griffa’s old rat.”

Gallus reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

“Her name’s Class and she’s useless, she hardly ever wakes up. Griffa got an raven from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn’t aff — I mean, I got Class instead.”

Gallus’s ears went pink. He seemed to think he’d said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

Spike didn’t think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an bird. After all, he’d never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Gallus so, all about having to wear Lighting Dust’s old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Gallus up.

“. . . and until Rutherford told me, I didn’t know anything about being a magic dragon or about my parents or tirek —”

Gallus gasped.

“What?” said Harry.

“You said You-Know-Who’s name!” said Gallus, sounding both shocked and impressed. “I’d have thought you, of all creatures —”

“I’m not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name,” said Spike, “I just never knew you shouldn’t. See what I mean? I’ve got loads to learn. . . . I bet,” he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, “I bet I’m the worst in the class.”

“You won’t be. There’s loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough.”

While they had been talking, the train had carried them out of Canterlot. Now they were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. They were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes flick past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, baby blue coat and pink main mare slid back their door and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?”

Spike, who hadn’t had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Gallus’s ears went pink again and he muttered that he’d brought sandwiches. Spike went out into the corridor. He had never had any money for candy with the Riders, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many wonderbolts Bars as he could carry — but the mare didn’t have wonderbolts Bars. What she did have were Queen Chrysalis's Every Flavor Beans, pinkamena’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, apple Pasties, dragon Cakes, Licorice horns, and a number of other strange things Spike had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the mare eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Gallus stared as Spike brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

“Hungry, are you?”

“Starving,” said Spike, taking a large bite out of a apple pasty.

Gallus had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, “She always forgets I don’t like corned beef.”

“Swap you for one of these,” said Spike, holding up a pasty. “Go on —”

“You don’t want this, it’s all dry,” said Ron. “She hasn’t got much time,” he added quickly, “you know, with five of us.”

“Go on, have a pasty,” said Spike, who had never had anything to share before or, indeed, anyone to share it with. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Gallus, eating their way through all Spike’s pasties, cakes, and candies (the sandwiches lay forgotten).

“What are these?” Spike asked Gallus, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. “They’re not really frogs, are they?” He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.

“No,” said Gallus. “But see what the card is. I’m missing King Sombra.”

“What?”

“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know — Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect — famous magic creature. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got King Sombra or princess cadence.”

Spike unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a stallion unicorn’s face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked muzzle, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Star swirl the bearded.

“So this is Star swirl!” said Spike.

“Don’t tell me you’d never heard of Star swirl!” said Gallus. “Can I have a frog? I might get King Sombra — thanks —” Spike turned over his card and read:

STAR SWIRL THE BEARDED CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF CELESTIA SCHOOL Considered by many the greatest unicorns of modern times, Star swirl is particularly famous for his and his friends defeat of the Dark magic creature called the pony of shadows in 1945, for the discovery of the seven uses of the elements of harmony , and his work on alchemy with his partner, discord. Professor Star swirl enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Spike turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Star swirl’s face had disappeared.

“He’s gone!”

“Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day,” said Gallus. “He’ll be back. No, I’ve got princess Luna again and I’ve got about six of her . . . do you want it? You can start collecting.”

Gallus’s eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

“Help yourself,” said Spike. “But in, you know, the Muggle world, ponies just stay put in photos.”

“Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Gallus sounded amazed. “Weird!”

Spike stared as Star swirl sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. Gallus was more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous magic creature cards, but Spike couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Star swirl and Somnambula, but Mistmane of sorcery, Mage Meadowbrook, Rockhoof, Flash Magnus, and princess Luna. He finally tore his eyes away from the awesome Rainbow Dash, who was getting ready for a awesome trick, to open a bag of Queen Chrysalis's Every Flavor Beans.

“You want to be careful with those,” Gallus warned Spike. “When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor — you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get sea rock and cockatrice liver and tripe. Feather reckons he had a booger-flavored one once.”

Gallus picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

“Bleaaargh — see? Yack hair.”

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. spike got Cherry Ruby, pineapple, baked potatoes banana, garnet watermelon, cucumber, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Gallus wouldn’t touch, which turned out to be dragon pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced colt Spike had passed on platform seven and three-bits came in. He looked tearful. “Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?”

When they shook their heads, he wailed, “I’ve lost him!

He keeps getting away from me!”

“He’ll turn up,” said Spike.

“Yes,” said the colt miserably. “Well, if you see him . . .” He left. .

“Don’t know why he’s so bothered,” said Gallus. “If I’d brought a toad I’d lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Class, so I can’t talk.”

The rat was still snoozing on Gallus’s lap.

“She might have died and you wouldn’t know the difference,” said Gallus in disgust. “I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn’t work. I’ll show you, look . . .”

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

“Unicorn hair’s nearly poking out. Anyway —”

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless colt was back, but this time he had a yak girl with him. She was already wearing her new Celestia School robes.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Pipsqueak’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice, lots of bushy brown hair, and rather large front horns.

“We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it,” said Gallus, but the girl wasn’t listening, she was looking at the wand in his talent.

“Oh, are you doing magic? Let’s see it, then.”

She sat down. Gallus looked taken aback.

“Er — all right.” He cleared his throat.

“Celestia's son, dragon daisies, hwybutter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow.”

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Class stayed gray and fast asleep.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” said the yak girl. “Well, it’s not very good, is it? I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of magic there is, I’ve heard — I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough — I’m fion Yona Yaker, by the way, who are you?”

She said all this very fast.

Spike looked at Gallus, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn’t learned all the course books by heart either.

“I’m Gallus gruff,” Gallus muttered.

“Spike Drago,” said Spike.

“Are you really?” said Yona. “I know all about you, of course — I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Magic creatures Events of the Twentieth Century.”

“Am I?” said Spike, feeling dazed.

“Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” said Yona. “Do either of you know what House you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Manticorear, it sounds by far the best; I hear Star swirl himself was in it, but I suppose Bearal wouldn’t be too bad. . . . Anyway, we’d better go and look for Pipsqueak’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

And she left, taking the toadless colt with her.

“Whatever House I’m in, I hope she’s not in it,” said Gallus. He threw his wand back into his trunk. “Stupid spell — Feather gave it to me, bet she knew it was a dud.”

“What House are your brothers in?” asked Harry.

“Manticorear,” said Gallus. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. “Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don’t know what they’ll say if I’m not. I don’t suppose Bearal would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in cockatricea .”

“That’s the House Ti-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?”

“Yeah,” said Gallus. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

“You know, I think the ends of Classs’ whiskers are a bit lighter,” said Spike, trying to take Gallus’s mind off Houses. “So what do your oldest sisters do now that they’ve left, anyway?”

Spike was wondering what a griffin did once she’d finished school.

“Coraline’s in Ponmania studying dragons, and Cinderella’s in zebraland doing something for Nightmare zone,” said Gallus. “Did you hear about Nightmare zone? It’s been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don’t suppose you get that with the Muggles — someone tried to rob a high security vault.”

Spike stared.
“Really? What happened to them?”

“Nothing, that’s why it’s such big news. They haven’t been caught. My dad says it must’ve been a powerful Dark magic creature to get round Nightmare zone, but they don’t think they took anything, that’s what’s odd. ’Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who’s behind it.”

Spike turned this news over in his mind. He was starting to get a prickle of fear every time You-Know-Who was mentioned. He supposed this was all part of entering the magical world, but it had been a lot more comfortable saying “Tirek ” without worrying.

“What’s your fireball team?” Gallus asked.

“Er — I don’t know any,” Spike confessed. “What!” Gallus looked dumbfounded. “Oh, you wait, it’s the best game in the world —” And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he’d been to with his sisters and the broomstick he’d like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Spike through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn’t Pipsqueak the toadless colt, or Yona yaker this time.

Three dragon boys entered, and Spike recognized the middle one at once: It was the pale dragon boy from Madam Rarity’s robe shop. He was looking at Spike with a lot more interest than he’d shown back in griffin Alley.

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that Spike Drago’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” said Spike. He was looking at the other dragon boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale dragon boy, they looked like bodyguards.

“Oh, this is Crackle and this is Steam,” said the pale dragon boy carelessly, noticing where Spike was looking. “And my name’s Garble, Slayer Garble.”

Gallus gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Garble Slayer looked at him.

“Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Gruffs have scraggly feathers, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

He turned back to Spike. “You’ll soon find out some magic creaturesing families are much better than others, Drago. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.”

He held out his hand to shake Spike’s, but Spike didn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said coolly.

Grable Slayer didn’t go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Drago,” he said slowly. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Gruffs and that Rutherford, and it’ll rub off on you.”

Both Spike and Gallus stood up.

“Say that again,” Gallus said, his face as red as a tomato.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Garble sneered.

“Unless you get out now,” said Spike, more bravely than he felt, because Crackle and Steam were a lot bigger than him or Gallus.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we, boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Crackle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Gallus — Gallus leapt forward, but before he’d so much as touched Crackle, Crackle let out a horrible yell.

Class the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Crackle’s knuckle — Steam and Garble backed away as Crackle swung Class round and round, howling, and when Class finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they’d heard footsteps, because a second later, Yona yaker had come in.

“What has been going on?” she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Gallus picking up Class by her tail.

“I think she’s been knocked out,” Gallus said to Spike. He looked closer at Class. “No — I don’t believe it — he’s gone back to sleep.”

And so he had.

“You’ve met Garble before?”

Spike explained about their meeting in griffin Alley. “I’ve heard of his family,” said Gallus darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Garble’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.” He turned to Yona. “Can we help you with something?”

“You’d better hurry up and put your robes on, I’ve just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we’re nearly there. You haven’t been fighting, have you? You’ll be in trouble before we even get there!”

“Class has been fighting, not us,” said Gallus, scowling at her. “Would you mind leaving while we change?” “All right — I only came in here because creatures outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors,” said Yona in a sniffy voice. “And you’ve got dirt on your beak, by the way, did you know?”

Spike glared at her as she left. spike peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.

He and Gallus took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. Gallus’s were a bit short for him, you could see his sneakers underneath them.

A voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Celestia School in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately.”

Spike’s stomach lurched with nerves and Gallus, he saw, looked pale under his feathers. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. Creatures pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Spike shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Spike heard a familiar voice: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here! All right there, Spike?”

Rutherford’s big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads. “C’mon, follow me — any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

Slipping and stumbling, they followed Rutherford down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Spike thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Pipsqueak, the colt who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Celestia School called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

There was a loud “Oooooh!”

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Rutherford called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Spike and Gallus were followed into their boat by Pipsqueak and Yona.

“Every creature in?” shouted Rutherford, who had a boat to himself. “Right then — FORWARD!” .

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

“Heads down!” yelled Rutherford as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” said Rutherford, who was checking the boats as creatures climbed out of them.

“Peppermint!” cried Pipsqueak blissfully, holding out his hooves. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Rutherford’s lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

“Every creature here? You there, still got yer toad?”

Rutherford raised a gigantic hoof and knocked three times on the castle door.

To be continued.

Magic creature cards

Star swirl the bearded

Sonnambula

Mistmane

Mage Meadowbrook

Rockhoof

Flash Magnus

Princess Luna

Rainbow Dash