Hagrid peered out of the window of his hut. Some of the 3rd year students taking his option had started heading towards him.

He picked up a covered cardboard box and opened the door. He stepped out to see a couple of students had arrived... "Gather round." He said. "The rest 'al be 'ere soon." He placed the box on the ground in front of him.

Jogging up, out of breath and pink-faced, Fiona appeared. "Is this the Third Year class?" she panted, stopping trying to catch her breath. "I'm sorry if I'm late..."

The tuft of fur in her robe pocket poked one baleful black eye out and took in the scene before it before snuggling further down. "There now, McTavish," she said, her breath coming more easily, and stroking her familiar gently. "None of these people are going to cook you."

Randal couldn't believe he'd ended up with detention. His sister always got him into trouble like this. And he had only been trying to stick up for himself. He wondered when Grimalkin would be dishing them out.

Elia had gone on ahead to CoMC, and he had stopped by on the growing argument when his sister had started to pick on the other students. He had to butt in, and now he'd made enemies too. 'But how dare they call her a tramp, even if I agree with them I still had to defend her!' He thought to himself.

He arrived at Hagrid's hut to see the half-giant beaming and looking smug. He couldn't see Elia anywhere, she'd probably done that vanishing thing again. He daren't find her by smell or she'd know that he knew it was her. She probably hated him too.

He was so angry with himself. He skulked at the back of the gathering students.

Fiona kept herself at the back of the growing group of students, feeling shy and awkward. There were quite a few people there now.

She was suddenly forced to make herself known, however, when McTavish, unnerved by all these people, darted out of her robe pocket and scurried off into the undergrowth.

"McTavish!" she yelled, turning around and running after her familiar. "McTavish, get yeself back here, ye little monster!" The little blonde girl got down on her knees and fumbled about under the bush where McTavish had disappeared. Letting out a crow of delight, she pulled him out by his leg.

McTavish was a tiny little creature, ridiculously fluffy, with black button eyes and nose, and a look of perpetual irritation about his face. But the oddest thing about him was his legs. One pair were marginally longer than the other. Nothing major, but enough to see a difference.

He was currently making a noise somewhere between a squeak and a growl, but Fiona stroked his fur gently until he began to calm down, and resumed his place in her pocket, glaring out furiously.

"Och, sorry about that," apologised the Scottish girl to everyone present. "McTavish isn't very good around people."

"Ugh! what on earth it THAT!" says Arcadia with a griminess Pan looks a little interested and sniffs in the creature's direction.

Fiona smiled happily and turned to Arcadia. "This," she said, in her strong Scottish accent, "Is McTavish. The last of the Highland haggises."

As if in response to his name, McTavish stuck his nose out of Fiona's pocket and glowered balefully at Arcadia. The blonde Scots girl stroked his head thoughtfully. "He's rather highly strung," she whispered to Arcadia. "He's only a baby, you see - his parents were killed in the Burns Night Massacre."

McTavish snuffled the palm of her hand affectionately as she spoke. "He's really very sweet, but he does have an irrational fear of mashed potatoes, turnips and gravy."

" I was talking to McTavish " Arcadia said with a rather evil grin, then walks away. Pantalaimon pauses for just a second to give McTavish another sniff and a curious sideways turn of his head before following Arcadia.

Hagrid surveyed the gathered students. "OK. Looks like most o yers ere. So'i'll begin. Welcome ta 3rd year care o' magical creatures class. For those who don know me I'm Hagrid."

He looks round. And taps the box in front of him. "Now I think your gonna love this. I 'ave in here a creature that before yesterday I 'ad ne'er seen, although I 'ad o' course 'eard o' 'em. We are gonna study 'em for the next few weeks. You are gonna keep one each an' watch it, feed it, and generally take care o' it. Unfortunately thou' these animals are not in yer text book, so you'll just 'ave to try 'em with different things an see what they like."

He lifted the lid of the box slightly and pulled out one of the creatures. "This is a Tribble. It don look like much, do it?" What he holds up is apparently a ginger ball of fluff. There are no obvious features, like eyes or ears or legs. It is just a round fluffy ball. It doesn't even seem to move. When handled it emits no apparent heat. In fact to all intents and purposes it is a ball of fluff.

"I wan' yer all t' come an' get one." He lifts the lid and beckons the students to come an collect a Tribble each.

Arcadia scoffs: " Can I have two? I need some new ear muffs "

Nimue was delighted with the fur ball though agreed with Hagrid that it seemed to have no discernible features so was hard to know what end was which. 'Tribbles' - sounded a cute friendly name. She petted hers with gentleness holding the animal to her ear to see if it purred or anything.

Fiona approached the box cautiously, as McTavish was making a most peculiar sound. "Och, I don't think m'haggis likes your Tribbles, sir," she said, but reached into the box and got one of the little creatures out.

"Oh, they're so cute!" she exclaimed. If Fiona had a failing, it was a penchant for anything small and fluffy.

McTavish bared a set of surprisingly razor-sharp looking teeth. "No need t'be jealous, McTavish," she said, grinning. "This wee thing isn't going to hurt you."

Moderately pacified, McTavish curled up and went back to sleep.

Spotting the teeth on McTavish, Sarah was deeply impressed. Sarah's cheeky smile lit up her face."What a cool pet!" she said to Fiona. "Hi, you're new aren't you? I'm Sarah by the way, Sarah Taverner. Ravenclaw House."

Kat picked out one of the creatures. This was a white one with patches of mottled brown and black. She turned it over, but couldn't tell which was the right way up.

She wandered back to Nimue. "What do you suppose we do with them?"

"Cuddle them?" suggested Nimue. "Hagrid was saying we need to look after them. So we'll just have to see what they want to eat and stuff." She was still stroking hers trying to get some response from it. "Oh I stopped by my room earlier and an owl came with a letter from Marvo. Interesting news! We can talk later about it if you want?"

Madison walked past with her white Tribble, overhearing. "Is he alright?" she asked Nimue.

"Oh?" she was a little surprised that Maddy had overheard but recovered well, "Yes, he's fine. On a new strict training programme or something. Misses us all very much. Don't tell anyone else though because I wouldn't want to compromise his outside contact."

Madison smiled. "Don't worry, I won't. I'm just glad to hear he's okay." She gave a little wave and headed off with her Tribble. "Hagrid? Um...what exactly do these things do?" she asked, curious.

Randal wandered towards the front of the class and took a tribble from the box. He looked at it and smelt it and even shook it. But it did not appear to make a noise. It didn't even feel warm in his hands. Well he had no idea what to do with it, so went back to lurking with it in his hand.

Hagrid smiled at Fiona as she took her Tribble. "I'm sure McTavish will accept 'im soon enough." He told her.

"No, Arcadia, yer may only 'ave one. That way there's enough ta go round."

He looked round to see who still hadn't come forward. "Come on. There's a few not been taken yet." He smiled happily at the responses that he had heard so far. And waited until all the Tribbles had been taken before continuing.

Arcadia grudgingly picks up a Tribble and looking closely at it give it a good shake. " I think this ones dead, if it was alive at all. Looks like a boil egg warmer to me!"

Glyndwr, who had been busy nibbling grass around Kalidor's feet, stiffened when he heard Hagrid tapping on the box. He scrabbled and clambered his way up Kalidor's robes, legs and anything else that happened to provide purchase, until he could perch on his shoulder for a better view.

*Ooh! BOX!!!* thought Glyndwr, as only a cat can think.

Kalidor, sort of realising what was coming, tried to grab hold of Glyndwr before he could get away. A small tussle ensued. By the time Glyndwr got free (as cats *always* do), most of the other students had been up to the front and collected their tribbles.

Glyndwr scampered along the floor, weaving in and out of surprised 3rd year legs, and leapt onto the table in front of Hagrid. Without a seconds delay, and certainly before Hagrid could realise what was happening, he had disappeared headfirst into the box. There was a small scrabbling sound followed by silence.

The whole room held their breath. There was a small, cattish, almost song-like noise: *prrrreoooouw*, followed by a moments quiet, then a repeat: *prrreow, prrr prrr prrrreeeeeooow* There was, of course, some giggling amongst those gathered, although those students who had cats as familiars just smiled.

Then, all of a sudden, a different sound flowed from the box. A beautiful, song like sound. The tribble was singing back! People gasped at the beauty of the song.

Glyndwr leapt out of the box with the tribble held gently in his mouth and dropped quietly to the floor, before making his way slowly back to the back of the group, where Kalidor stood. As the rest of the students turned, one by one, jaws dropped, watching the cat-tribble combination trot past, their tribbles too started to sing. Everyone was momentarily struck dumb by awe at the beauty of the sound these creatures were making, an awe which rapidly dissipated with the realisation that if they didn't stop soon, no one would be able to hear themselves think.

Kalidor just smiled sheepishly, tribble in one hand, Glyndwr in the other.

Katia surveys her tribble, sneering at it. Suddenly, a large black cat with a white stripe down its nose leaps out of the bushes, snatching the tribble out of her hand. "Belen! Belen, come back here with that!" she scolds. "You don't know where that's been, Belen, I wouldn't trust anything from here, you silly cat. Wo Sie sind?" she asks in German. She looks around. "Where is my cat?"

Hagrid doesn't notice Katia's cat running off with the tribble. He is too busy being hypnotised by the singing tribbles.

"Well done ta yer cat Kalidor. He 'as shown us wa I was commin' ta next. You need to hum at'em to make 'em sing. If yer do, then yer'll get great pleasure from 'em. Now. I 'eint gonna keep yer long today, as yer'll get more time ta find out wa they do yersen. But, I do wan an essay on their habits, personalities, likes an' dislikes for next lesson."

He pauses and looks in Arcadia's direction, "An' anyone that 'arms 'em'll be gettin' detention and loosing points for their 'ouse."If you 'av anymore questions yer can find me 'ere. Class dismissed."

Hagrid stands watching the students look a little confused as they realise they have effectively been given most of their lesson as a free period.

Arcadia looks at Hagrid through narrowed eyes and shoves the tribble into her pocket, rather more roughly than was needed, and stalks off. Pantalaimon give a quick growl in Hagrid's direction and follows.

Kat was enchanted by the little tribble in her hand. It was merrily singing at her. She stoked it and hummed back. She felt a little silly, but hearing it sing harder the more she hummed the better she felt about it.

She noticed that her tribble was bigger than most of the others. She guesses it must be older. She tucked it into a pocket and turned to Nimue. "Shall we go to the library then. See if we can find out anything about them?"

"Good idea" replied Nimue, who had also been humming at her tribble following Kat's lead.

***********

Anders Grimalkin appeared from his classroom between lessons, looking moderately dishevelled and harassed, in order to pin a note to the notice board.

[To the three of you waiting for your detentions from me - and you know who you are.

The Owlery needs a good sorting out. It hasn't been cleaned out for some time. As most of the House Elves refuse to go in there, being afraid of the birds - guess what your job is? And yes - all three of you. Together. Tomorrow afternoon after class.

Professor Anders Grimalkin
Defence Against the Dark Arts]

He glanced around huntedly and disappeared back into his classroom. He hated the fact he'd dished out detention, but a Prof's gotta do what a Prof's gotta do.