The reserve's staff quarters were scattered across a clearing: clusters of little ovoid cottages, their exteriors plastered in rough lime.
"Oh, they're shaped like Hungarian Horntail eggs!" Hagrid said delightedly. The cottage beside him was just a little shorter than his shoulder, the perfect height for him to wrap his arms around.
"Correct. The designer hoped it would discourage the dragons from attacking us," said the quarters manager without looking up. Her head was bowed, fingers sorting through an enormous ring of keys.
This manager, Katalin Kovács, was a woman with iron-grey hair, eyes as sharp as a hawk's, and hands that were thin and rough. According to Charlie, she'd been a famous researcher at the reserve, known for escaping Hungarian Horntail fire four separate times, bringing back detailed data on scales and eggs.
She'd retired but stayed on at the reserve. Once, she'd snatched a trainee researcher right from under a dragon's nose.
"Istvan was beyond grateful," Charlie said. "He told everyone if Katalin hadn't noticed he hadn't returned to the dorms and flown out to find him immediately after alerting everyone, he'd have been Horntail supper. Ever since she pulled Istvan out, the reserve hired her as quarters manager. Every researcher I've met says they sleep better knowing Katalin's on patrol."
"I did not rescue Istvan," Katalin corrected flatly, a faint accent coloring her words. "I only rescued most of Istvan. Here. Your keys. This is the largest one, in the far north corner. These two are for you, next to the big one."
She handed a patterned brass key to Hagrid and two smaller, black-lacquered keys to Henry and Charlie.
"You know the rules," she told Charlie. "I start checking for stragglers in three minutes, so you get them to their cottages."
"Got it, Katalin," Charlie said.
Katalin nodded, turning to Henry and Hagrid. "Ignore the roaring. If you hear the alarm bells, get out of your rooms immediately. No drinking or singing after eleven—meaning now. Even during permitted hours, no strong liquor outdoors. Breakfast is five to six. Follow other researchers if you can't find the mess hall, or ask me. Any questions?"
Her blue-grey eyes swept over them, lingering pointedly on the half-bottle of brandy sticking out of Hagrid's bulging pocket. Hagrid shoved it back in hard. Henry heard a faint rip of fabric. He noticed Charlie eyeing Hagrid's pocket suspiciously too, but neither he nor Katalin commented.
"One question, Ms. Kovács," Henry said, holding up his key and gesturing at the rounded cottages around them. "How do you tell where the door is?"
…
Charlie demonstrated. You just tapped the correct key against the wall three times, and a perfectly round doorway appeared out of nowhere.
Hagrid's cottage was indeed the largest. Even so, he got thoroughly stuck in the opening. He had Henry and Charlie push from behind while he heaved against the walls, muttering, "Tighter squeeze than them French carriages!" Charlie reminded him to keep tapping the key against the wall, trying to coax the cottage into widening the hole.
Finally, with a grunt, Hagrid squeezed himself inside. THUD! A crash. A yelp. The doorway vanished the moment he tumbled in.
"Hagrid, you alright?" Henry asked, knocking on the wall and pressing his ear to it.
"I'm fine!" Hagrid boomed back.
Henry stepped back, rubbing his ear.
Charlie said, "The walls aren't that soundproof—"
"Blimey, what's this!" Hagrid's voice rumbled. Henry suspected half the dormitory could hear him. "Henry! Charlie! I think I broke the bed!"
"You're a wizard, Hagrid," Henry said. "The spell is 'Reparo.'"
…
The commotion stirred the nearby researchers. Several lime-colored walls seemed to ripple. Heads poked out like seals breaching water, looking around.
"Oh, hello, Gábor," Charlie greeted the nearest researcher.
"Charlie!" Gábor said, surprised. "What are you—what's happening?" Other researchers farther away watched intently. Henry offered them a slight smile.
"Exchange scholars from Hogwarts. I'm fetching them," Charlie said. "We leave tomorrow. Henry, this is Gábor Nagy, senior Hungarian Horntail researcher, Durmstrang graduate. He arrived around the same time I did. Gábor, Professor Henry Anthony."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Nagy," Henry said.
"Likewise, Professor," Gábor said politely, his gaze flicking between Henry and the large cottage beside them. "Only one night? Aren't Hungarian Horntails more interesting than Romanian Longhorns?"
Henry glanced sideways. Hagrid didn't seem to have heard. He sounded busy taking inventory of his luggage, dismayed to find two brandy bottles had shattered in the fall.
Charlie said dryly, "Longhorns have higher commercial value. Besides, they're not here for the Longhorns. They came to see the new Norwegian Ridgeback."
"That bad-tempered, brilliant-flying Ridgeback?" Gábor said. "Alright, alright." He was still studying Henry, seemingly searching for an excuse to make him stay.
"Rude, Gábor," Charlie cut in before he could speak. "Why don't you come out and talk?"
"Because I'm wearing the pyjamas with the Horntail dung-trajectory map," Gábor said. "I feel that's more impolite…" He yawned. "Alright, lucky Charlie. I've got to check if Isabella's laid tomorrow… hope she doesn't mistake me for an egg smuggler. You know how jumpy she's been since her clutch went missing." He yawned again and retracted his head.
"That's Gábor for you," Charlie said. "Come on, Professor Anth—Henry. Let's see, this is mine, so that one must be yours."
"Wait, Charlie," Henry said, concerned. "What about Hagrid tomorrow? How does he get out?"
Hagrid was rummaging inside his room with a sound like Norbert in the teapot, amplified a thousandfold.
"Oh, that. Don't worry," Charlie said. "You'll understand once you're inside, Henry. All the reserve cottages are like this—hard to get into from outside, because we need to keep creatures and poachers out. Easy to get out from inside because, well, we generally prefer to keep our skins." He yawned too.
"Alright," Henry said. "Well, goodnight, then."
Hagrid's muffled voice came from his cottage. "G'night, Henry. G'night, Charlie."
"Goodnight, Hagrid," Henry added.
"Night," Charlie said, watching as Henry tapped the wall with his key and slipped inside.
The room was larger than he'd expected. He stepped through the doorway. A plain single bed faced him—no curtains, no tasseled pillows. The mattress was firm but warm, the blankets and sheets radiating their own gentle heat.
No fireplace. Didn't need one. The floor was paved with dark-grey stone tiles. Heat seeped into Henry's soles the moment he stepped on them, crawling up his calves.
A single lamp floated near the ceiling, looking like a candle jammed in a tin can. It cast a dim glow over the room's sparse furniture.
One section of wall glowed with a faint, sickly green light. Henry moved closer, puzzled. He pressed his hand against it, pushed slightly, and his hand sank right through. Cold night air brushed his skin.
The wall melted around him, allowing his body to sink in easily. Henry shoved his whole right arm through, then cautiously leaned his head out.
No secret base. Just rows of egg-shaped cottages standing in the dark. A terrible roar sounded in the distance. A spot of orange-red fire flared among the black tree silhouettes. A hint of dark smoke seemed to rise.
Henry looked up. Thick clouds blotted out the stars. Only the moon occasionally shone through the fast-moving clouds, its light blurred.
Something flew silently over his head. Only after he pulled back did he realize it wasn't a strangely-shaped bird. It was Katalin, mounted on a broomstick.
Henry shook his head, noticing a low bedside table. On it rested a bulb-like object—or a crystal ball, depending on your perspective. He touched it. Soft white light filled the room.
A few hooks were nailed into the wall above the table. He hung his coat there.
A circuit of the room revealed a somewhat hidden small door opposite the bed. He tapped it with his key. It swung open silently, revealing a simple, clean washroom complete with toothbrush, toothpaste, and towel. Henry tested the rough towel, wondering if the reserve had house-elves.
He spotted copies of the Hungarian Horntail (and Other Dragons and Local Magical Creatures) Reserve Dormitory Regulations on both the main room and washroom walls. The rules matched what Katalin had said.
Beneath the main room's regulations were several cautionary illustrations: people burned, crushed, or bitten to death by Hungarian Horntails. Henry tried to read a posted schedule nearby, only to realize the paper had faded to blankness. He'd been staring at a pair of legs—wearing incongruously nice shoes—thrashing in a drawn Horntail's jaws.
He sat on the bed, released the ginger cat from his backpack, and hung the pack on a hook. The cat jumped down immediately and began meticulously grooming itself. The Wraith Chicken and Wraith Mouse still seemed unwilling to materialize, but in Henry's mind, he could feel their steady, contented hum.
He checked the time. Only 11:40 PM. Despite Hagrid's thunderous snoring, the faint creak of someone turning over in bed, and muffled sleep-talk, he had to admit he wasn't the slightest bit tired.
He sat back on the bed, pulled open the bedside drawer, and was pleased to find a book inside: For the Trainee Researcher: How I Survived the Reserve.
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