No one had the slightest desire to test Mrs Taumaturge’s patience, so they hurried over to the stables. A stocky woman was standing in front of one of the side entrances to the building, and a little way behind her stood six stablehands with stony expressions. They looked as though they were at a drill parade.
‘I must admit, I didn’t expect you to turn up here at such a decent hour,’ the woman croaked. It could have been taken as a compliment, had one not heard her tone or seen the scowl contorting her chubby face. ‘Today you’ll be getting to know the wargs. Under the supervision of the stablehands, you’ll groom them and prepare them for the lesson,’ she began to explain, her gaze sweeping over the cadets’ faces as if searching for a weak link to break. ‘Later, we’ll head out onto the track and see if you can even mount the saddle properly.’ She snorted. ‘Finally, you’ll dismount and clean your mounts, and only then will you be allowed to finish today’s class. Understood?’
‘Understood, Instructor!’ they replied instinctively in unison.
‘Excellent…’ The instructor pulled a stack of papers from her bosom and studied them for a moment. ‘It seems that a few of you have your own mounts.’ She said this with a touch less distaste than before. ‘Those who have applied for permission to use their own mounts will be getting used to them.’ She waved the documents casually and stepped aside. ‘Follow the stablehands’ instructions.’
‘To avoid any confusion, we’ll be taking each of you individually and leading you to your designated mount,’ said one of the stablehands, a man in his prime, stepping forward from the ranks. ‘The rest of you wait your turn.’
Without waiting for a reply or any other reaction, the other stablehands set off from their positions. Each of them carried a piece of paper with a short list. As they approached, they read out the names and waited for the right person to come forward. Draco watched as five cadets disappeared through the stable door, whilst the
