Three twelve-year-olds are gathered in a bathroom, copying a diagram from a book onto the floor in chalk.
"Do you know what all this writing means?" asks the green-eyed boy.
"No," says the bushy-haired girl, "and that worries me too, but we need to find out who the Heir of Slytherin is and this ritual is the best we've got."
Eventually, one or another of them draws the last bit of the outer circle.
Is the Heir of Slytherin supposed to appear in the middle of their diagram? Because here someone is!
"...didn't anyone ever tell you not to draw on the floor?"
"Blimey, Hermione, you said we'd get images of other parts of the castle, not some bloke with wings!"
"...uh, hello, my name is Cam and I'm the demon you summoned and if that isn't what you were going for you have been failed by your educators."
"What are demons, exactly? Because you don't look like the ones in muggle stories and I haven't read anything about demons in wizarding books. Not that sounded reliable, anyway."
"The stories muggles tell about demons? Where they have bright red skin and pitchforks and offer you knowledge in exchange for your soul?"
"Wait, maybe he's a muggle demon. He doesn't have a wand. You don't have a wand, do you?"
"I can't say that I do. Or a pitchfork. And I don't think I'd look good in bright red and I don't want your souls."
"If we brought a muggle into Hogwarts we're going to be in so much trouble. But if you're not magic, how do you have wings?"
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It's in Scotland; if you were British I'd say you would have heard of it if you were magic but you sound American so I'm not sure."
"I could switch dialects but as long as this one's intelligible it's my default. Is there perhaps some sort of adult you might reasonably inform about, uh, this?"
"I suppose we should tell Professor Dumbledore. Or Professor McGonagall. Or Professor Lockhart."
"Why? They weren't any help last year, and that was when they knew what was going on."
"If we have to tell someone it should at least be McGonagall. Lockhart's useless."
Cam has not met any of their professors. He does wonder why people who teach what look like prepubescent children style themselves "professor". "There's not a terrific rush about it if this isn't the best time."
"Maybe you could explain what a demon is first." Maybe they can solve this without telling anyone in authority why they were doing unfamiliar rituals in a girls' bathroom.
"We're the kind of daeva that makes stuff. Do you not know about angels and fairies either?"
"Fairies are a sort of magical insect, but I've never heard them called daeva or compared to demons and angels. What sort of stuff do you make?"
"Arbitrary material objects," he says, processing this assertion. "Hey, does there happen to be any magic you can do as a demo, I'd like to see."
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