Astonishingly, though, two of the only students who were actually doing work were none other than a certain Harriet-Lily Potter and Anatoly Capshaw, both infamous slackers. Although ‘work’ was perhaps not the best word to describe what they were doing; after all, even with all of the Inter-House Unity project meetings they had held, they had never actually done anything that could have qualified as actual ‘progress’ on the project.
Try as they might, Haley’s ludicrously short attention span, Anatoly’s deranged creativity, and both of their propensities toward insanity had led them to instead spend their work sessions doing things like roller-skating through the corridors after curfew and walking up to random people in the hallways with a toy microphone, saying things like, “Well, Ursula, you’re a Communist. Give us your opinion on marsupials,” or “Well, Jordan, you’re ugly. Tell us about what you think of the cultural phenomenon that is the Pop-Tart.”
So needless to say, they were becoming a touch anxious about the fact that they’d already wasted four of the even months they had to complete their project.
“I have a novel idea,” suggested Anatoly, cracking his knuckles in a businesslike and somewhat gross manner. “How about we do some work today?”
Haley clapped her hands over her mouth in mock shock. “No? Do work? In school? That’s just completely unfeabisle!”
“Unfeasible,” corrected Anatoly, reminding her annoyingly of her twin. Why wouldn’t anyone let her invent her own words, for crying out loud? Shakespeare did it, after all.
The boy leaned back in his chair, tilting it onto its back legs. “So, what shall we do for our brilliant and groundbreaking project that will doubtless shatter Professor Zabini’s prejudices and convince him that we are not only charming and stunningly attractive but also ingenious?”
“Way to use run-on sentences,” Haley noted. She stroked an imaginary beard. “We can do a documentary thingy on how people from different houses act with each other,” she proposed.
Anatoly nodded appreciatively. “Excellent suggestion indeed. But do we actually know how to produce this opus?” He often spoke like this, not with the articulate integrity of Jordan Potter but in sarcastic tones that made it clear he was only using his vocabulary for the purpose of humour.
“Yeah,” said Haley. “Remember when I made that movie about my brother singing in his underwear?”
“Vividly.”
“Well, there are spells you can use to record stuff like a movie. I had help from my cousin Edwin on the Jordan movie , and he’s graduated, but my, erm, friend Lee’s always good with this kind of thing.” Haley did not exactly feel the urge to divulge the fact that she kept an enchanted diary that contained the personality of her long-dead grandmother. It tended to put a bit of a damper on conversation.
Anatoly smiled, prominently displaying a chunk of bread stuck in his braces. “A documentary it is, then,” he announced, smacking the table like a judge missing his gavel. He held his hand up as though presenting a microphone to an imaginary person. “So, Charybdis, you’re a git and an altogether horrible person! Can you tell us your views on a one-way trip to Salem, Massachusetts circa the late seventeenth century?”
His expression shifted suddenly, a rather disconcerting trait of his, and his face went from light-hearted and laughing to vengeful. “I really can’t stand her, though,” he said quietly, jerking his head over toward Charybdis, who was shivering with laughter over some undoubtedly foul cartoon she and one of her friends had made.
Haley’s nose wrinkled. “Yeah, she’s really not nice. I mean, I saw her telling some first years the wrong way to go on the first day of school”and she’s a Prefect and all.”
Anatoly snorted. “Pshyea, well, so am I, but you don’t see me acting all goody-goody and shining apples for my professors, either. I drive my parents up the wall”they’re accountants. No further explanations needed.”
“Oh, they don’t like the whole long-hair-and-laughing-at-authority thing you’re trying to pull off?” asked Haley. “Because I could totally understand if you’re doing it to annoy them. It sounds like something my brother would do if our parents were uncool.”
“That and the fact that I go to a school for wizards.” Anatoly knocked on Haley’s head as though expecting to hear that it was hollow. “It’s certainly oodles of fun for them when their boring Muggle accountant friends want to know what young Ani’s planning on doing when he gets out of school and I let them know that I’m planning to work in the wizarding field.”
He chuckled to himself, a surprisingly deep and warm sound in contrast to his usual dry, sardonic speaking voice. “My parents aren’t especially fond of ‘eccentrics,’ as they like to say. And of course, they love me, but I make it my business to do six eccentric things before breakfast each morning.”
‘Eccentric’ was a good words for him. Haley thought to herself that he should never under any circumstances be permitted to meet Giorgi Anderson, or the world might explode from too much eccentricity concentrated into one spot.
“Oh, did I tell you about my grandparents?” Anatoly exclaimed, his ever-shifting face making the transition from wry humour to excitement.
He spread his arms dramatically and spoke in a voice that sounded a lot like a presenter on a cheesy children’s television programme. “Both sets of my grandparents were hippies way back yonder in the mystical bygone era of the 1960’s. All four of them were inseparable pals, like insane Muggle hippie versions of the Hogwarts founders, and they all met at one of those peace and love rallies they used to hold back when such things were considered fairly sane.
“Some friendly lunatic would stand in a public place and start singing a song like ‘Give Peace a Chance’ or ‘All You Need Is Love’ or ‘Imagine,’ and gradually, loads of bored hippies would come out of the woodwork and sing along and hold hands and pass diseases in massive human chains all around town. This was their idea of fun, apparently.”
“Hey, I’d like that,” protested Haley. Anything that involved singing in public sounded all right to her.
“I’m sure you would,” Anatoly replied condescendingly. “So, eventually, they paired off and got married and each set had kids who were hideously embarrassed by their parents and thusly decided to rebel by running off together and becoming boring accountants and starting a family with no eccentrics whatsoever. And then I came along instead. The end.”
He took an elaborate sweeping bow upon the completion of the story of his family history. Although he did not receive thunderous applause, he was accompanied by the sound of the bell ringing and marking the end of their unproductive period of Potions. Chairs scraped at the tile floor, and book bags were snatched up and refilled.
Over the noise, Haley called, “Listen, we should talk about what to put in our documentary. Meet me in the Muggle Studies room like usual, after dinner, okay? Hasta la pasta!”
And with that, she skipped off down the hall to catch up with Emma, unaware that a certain nasty Slytherin girl had overheard her and would be using what she now knew to her own sinister advantage.
Blissfully unaware of any underhand plots that may have been occurring, Haley had a very enjoyable day, for the most part.
They’d learned about Thestrals in Care of Magical Creatures, which were her favourite animals (she’d been able to see them since the age of three, due to the fact that she’d watched her Uncle Ron thwart an attempt on her father’s life by several former Death Eaters in a skirmish that caused the end of Lucius Malfoy and Fenrir Greyback’s lives.)
They were starting a unit on horoscopes in Divination, and she was delighted to discover that ‘major and spectacular’ events were due in the near future for Aquarius, her sign. True, Jordan shared the same sign”the downside of having a twin”but she could live with that. She’d gotten her daily dose of vindictive pleasure watching her brother attempt to decry the validity of his horoscope only to discover that its last line read, “You must be careful today, or you will come off as a fool employing skepticism where it is not due.” The expression on his face had been priceless.
Speaking of ‘priceless,’ she and Emma and Ivy were discussing how many millions of Galleons they could make off of a hypothetical invention that would allow people to accurately see what they looked like from behind. The girls were so caught up in discussion as they strolled the halls chatting and giggling and saying things like, “No money back if you discover that you have a really ugly bum” (that was Emma) that they almost ran into Professor McGonagall.
“Oh! Sorry, Professor!” apologized Ivy, taking a step back.
“We weren’t talking about your bum,” blurted Emma.
McGonagall looked serious as she straightened her glasses. “Girls, I need to speak with you about something.” She gestured toward Haley and Emma. “Follow me, please. I””
She paused, pursed her thin lips in thought and finally said to Ivy, “You come as well. You can be as much trouble as your friends when you want to be.”
Ivy would have taken this as a compliment if it weren’t for the fact that she had no idea what she and her friends had allegedly done. She rarely got into trouble, and she couldn’t think of anything she could have done that was so serious that the Headmistress herself was confronting her. So she was understandably nervous as she followed the Headmistress up several flights of stairs, glancing every now and then at her equally bewildered-looking friends.
“Er, Professor,” puffed Haley as she jogged up the stairs, “I really don’t mean to be rude, but what’s wrong?” They seemed to be moving toward the Muggle Studies classroom, where she’d been planning on meeting Anatoly for her project in a few minutes.
McGonagall stopped outside the door to the classroom and pointed stiffly and sternly toward the interior.
A length of robe dangled from an indeterminate point in the ceiling, and Madame Patil was bending over a boy who was sitting on the floor, breathing shallowly.
“What,” McGonagall demanded, “is the meaning of this?”
“That was just what I was going to ask… ma’am,” replied Emma, tacking the word ‘ma’am’ onto the end of her phrase to avoid having points taken away from her house for impolite behaviour.
“You have crossed the line,” said McGonagall, “between mischief and malice. While it is one thing to… to broadcast an, er, unusual video recording in the Great Hall, it is another entirely to intentionally humiliate Mr. Capshaw in such a way.”
Capshaw? Haley gasped slightly and looked around McGonagall to see that the boy who was sitting on the floor was, in fact, Anatoly, already waiting in the Muggle Studies room. She was confused beyond belief now. “I’m sorry, but I really have no clue what you’re talking about, Professor,” she insisted. “What happened?”
“When Mr. Capshaw walked into the classroom this evening, presumably because you had invited him to work on your project together, he stepped in a magically rigged rope snare. When he was found, he’d been hanging upside-down for quite some time, and the blood was rushing to his head. He will be safe, but he could have died!” McGonagall’s mouth was very thin, and her eyes sharp and harsh, and she looked very displeased indeed.
The three girls looked at one another. This was ridiculous. True, they loved pulling pranks, but this was completely unlike them.
“We’d never do anything like this!” Emma argued, planting her hands on her hips. “I mean, we do pranks sometimes, but we’d ever actually hurt anyone! Do you actually think any of us would try something this dirty?”
“I don’t mean to point a finger, but who else could have possibly done such a thing?” said McGonagall. “Whoever it was must have known that Mr. Capshaw planned to enter this room, and it had to have been a Gryffindor. None of the other houses have a deep enough rivalry with Slytherin to do something like this.”
Haley gasped as though McGonagall had just smacked her in the face, or insulted Michael Ball. “I didn’t do anything!” she squeaked. Her eyes darted around the room and found Anatoly, his breathing pattern beginning to return to normal. “Tell her I didn’t do it!” she hissed.
It was one thing to be caught for something wrong that she had done, but there was no way she was letting herself be punished for something in which she’d played no part. She crossed her fingers that Anatoly would come to her defence. After all, he had heard her choose not to stick up for him when Emma had been less than tactful toward him earlier in the year. This might be when he took his untimely revenge.
But Anatoly took a deep, steadying breath, and said, “Professor, I know Haley didn’t do it. We’re friends.”
Friends? Haley was fully aware of the disbelieving looks on everyone else’s faces”she’d never actually mentioned Anatoly to her other friends other than saying ‘I’m going to go work on my project’”but she realized it was true.
They really had become friends, and she was both proud and happy to be addressed as one. To even her own surprise, she wasn’t ashamed to admit that she enjoyed the company of an eccentric and deeply uncool Slytherin.
“It was Nott”bet my bottom Galleon,” muttered Anatoly. He picked up a piece of parchment from the ground and waving it about flamboyantly. “This was stuck to my foot, and in my opinion, it’s what I would call a ‘dead giveaway,’” he said drily, holding up the parchment, displaying its bold writing for all to see:
“STUDY THIS MUGGLE.”
Haley shook her head. It was sad how incredibly ignorant people could be. Who would be cruel enough to do such a thing? Well, obviously Charybdis Nott, and she could tack Pansy Malfoy and possibly even Professor Zabini onto the list, but it was appalling nonetheless. And it wasn’t even remotely funny. She was sure Charybdis could have done better. Even Jordan had a better sense of humour.
“I do believe I’m bleeding,” muttered Anatoly, rubbing his ankle with his finger. He held it up and examined it speculatively. “Hmmm. Well, what do you know, it’s red! Egad! Funny, I thought it was supposed to be mud.”
McGonagall looked completely astonished to hear a student being so flippant about such things. “Well, I must confess I’m shocked. I’ve never heard of anyone playing pranks like his on a member of his or her own house. I’ll go speak to Miss Nott about this immediately. Girls, you may go, and I… I apologize for jumping to conclusions.”
Emma and Ivy breathed sighs of relief and turned to go, but Haley hesitated. “I think I’m going to stay here for a little longer,” she said, nodding toward Anatoly. “You go on without me.”
Her friends looked confused and somewhat disapproving, but they simply shrugged and nodded and said their goodbyes as asked. (Although Emma did linger in the doorway making embarrassing kissing faces for a few seconds afterward.)
When they were gone, Haley sat down next to Anatoly. “So, you okay, ducklin’?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m fine now. Freaked out, yes, and murderously angry, but for the most part, fine.” He blinked momentarily. “Ducklin’? Did you just pull that pet name out of the air?”
Haley sighed. “Yep. I think it suits you. But seriously, how should we kill Charybdis Nott?” she asked.
Anatoly rubbed his chin. “I’m thinking smother her in dung, then deep-fry her alive, but anything’s fine with me. Be creative.” His expression turned dark. “She’s said almost everything nasty that there is to say to me, so I guess she got bored and decided to actually do something.”
“That was the lowest of the low, though,” Haley stated. “I mean, I thought she was mean to me. It must stink to be you.”
The boy gave her a twisted smile. “No, actually, Charybdis aside, it’s fairly awesome to be me. Mainly because I’m fairly awesome, really. And really, most of the other Slytherins aren’t that bad. For the most part part, I don’t usually want to disembowel them that much”even Ophidias Malfoy’s leaving me alone now. Charybdis Nott and her minions are the only ones who just won’t get off my case.” He paused and waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe she thinks I’m cute.”
Haley laughed openly, knowing that he wouldn’t be offended. He was obviously kidding”she knew him well enough to have realized that whenever he uttered a statement that could be construed as arrogance, he was almost invariably just being sarcastic. And Anatoly knew as well as anyone else that though he may have had many lovely qualities, being cute was certainly not one of them.
“Seriously, though, I know people say that I’ll talk to anything but moves, but I at least try to like everyone. I’m just sick of people being mean for no reason.” Her voice was somber and subdued, jarringly more grown-up than usual. She was, after all, more intelligent and mature than the impression she normally made, her insightfulness overshadowed by her hyperactivity. “We were all laughing at your crazy hippie grandparents, but there are way worse things to be than people who are all about love and peace.”
“Yeah, I’d love to see John Lennon just fly in through the window on a broomstick and save the day. Bam.”
Haley froze. “John Lennon comes to save the day… Anatoly, you’re a genius!”
“Congratulations for figuring that out, but why only now?”
Haley grinned in a manner that made her look thoroughly and distinctly mischievous. “We,” she said slowly, “are going to do the best Inter-House Unity project ever. And there’s going to be more to it than just the documentary.”
It had been a long, hard day at work, and Ron was all too glad to be stumbling into the lift that evening. All he had to do was make it to the lobby and Apparate home, and then he’d be able to rest for the remainder of the evening.
He’d had about enough of Hadrian Bellowes, nosy reporters, and trainee Aurors getting into nasty mix-ups involving a yeti, six Austrian accordion players, and an undercooked spinach-gouda omelet. Naturally, these trainees had been under Ron’s instruction, a fact that did not go unnoticed by Bellowes.
The man was absolutely insufferable lately. A jibe or two at a coworker was okay from time to time, but intentionally trying to ruin his career and reputation? It was downright unprofessional. And unfair.
In fact, Ron recalled, it wasn’t the first time Bellowes had done something like this, either. Quite awhile before, when Emma had only been three years old, Bellowes had attempted to start almost the same controversy. But a well-timed attack by former Death Eaters on Harry’s life, which Ron himself had thwarted, made Ron a national hero, and suddenly nobody wanted to listen to conspiracy theories about his past.
And apparently, Bellowes had almost forgotten about his slandering campaign until recently, when Ron’s heavily publicized comment about Bellowes forgetting his trousers made the trouser-less Auror himself a laughingstock. And that time, his plan had worked just fine, thank you very much. Fine, that was, for Bellowes. For Ron, it was far from it.
The doors to the lift slid open, allowing another passenger to climb on board and break Ron’s reverie. Indeed, this did more than just break the reverie. It shattered it into millions of tiny pieces. Tall, dark, and sinister, the black-cloaked figure who had just boarded the elevator was none other than Professor Blaise Amadeus Zabini.
“Zabini!” Ron blurted. “Aren’t you supposed to be terroriz”I mean, teaching over at Hogwarts?”
Zabini sneered, a very typical gesture from him. “Not today, actually. Haven’t you heard of the volunteer work I do monthly with the Mimosa Phelps Foundation? With the Ministry, it is groundbreaking research, after all.”
“Hmm,” replied Ron, unimpressed. From his experience, people who bragged about their volunteer work with charities usually did very little except look for new ways to gather attention. But he was rather intrigued by the name of the foundation. He had never heard of this foundation”and he was quite high up in the Ministry, not to mention that his own brother was the Minister”but although he didn’t recognize the foundation, he did recognize the name.
Mimosa Phelps had been in Gryffindor, a year younger than Ron himself. She hadn’t been especially outgoing, and he was sure he wouldn’t have remembered this name if it weren’t for the fact that she’d looked a bit like Ginny and people often confused them. Ron recalled that Mimosa had died just a few years after leaving school, but he hadn’t remembered her having an incurable illness or anything. Why would there be a foundation in her name?
“Can you prove that that foundation actually exists?” Ron challenged.
Zabini snorted. “No need to be paranoid, Weasley, we’re not a terrorist organization. I seem to recall that you’re rather well-known for acting before thinking… killing innocent men… does that ring a bell at all?”
“So now you’re jumped on Bellowes’ bandwagon?” Ron replied hotly. “Just to see me get in trouble, I expect. Everyone knows that you would have joined the dark side if you had the choice. Why stick up for Snape?”
“I would never join the so-called ‘dark side,’” spat the Potions teacher, raising his head with dignity. “For some reason, when dimwitted people hear that I despise Muggles, they nearly always assume that I’d be suited to joining a band of people who are happy bowing down to a supreme lord and accepting punishing Muggles as a ‘crime’ rather than as a good deed. I want the wizarding world to realize that Muggles are a detriment to society. I don’t really want to be thrown in prison.”
“Funnily enough, I don’t either,” snapped Ron. “And look, you don’t need to give me your life story. I don’t want to hear it right now, to be honest.”
He rubbed his aching temples. Speaking of ‘life story,’ this was the story of his life. Just when he thought he could rest, Zabini had to get on the elevator and get all argumentative on him. Typical.
Zabini’s sneer twisted into a smirk, his other predominant facial expression. “What goes around,” he said slowly, “comes around.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean, then?”
“It means, Weasley,” Zabini enunciated, “that you can’t honestly expect to get off with no consequences after you kill a man. Taking a life is serious. You won’t receive any of my sympathy.”
Ron felt his ears turn red. “That’s rubbish! There’s no way to tell which side Snape was on!” He became uneasily aware of the fact that he was practically shouting by now.
“But do you honestly think there was even a possibility that he was on the dark side?” Zabini asked smoothly.
“Yes,” Ron shot back, “he was the Head of Slytherin, wasn’t he?”
Zabini was an intelligent man, and he did not misinterpret this statement for a second”he knew as well as Ron did that it was a snide personal insult. “The Head of Slytherin. Hilarious,” he said, his eyes flashing. “Oh yes, all Slytherins are evil incarnate. I’m sure that the twenty-five percent of the British wizarding population that you’ve just insulted would find that absolutely hysterical.”
He folded his arms. “Snape was too clever to work for the dark side, at least, not for long. But you wouldn’t know anything about cleverness, would you? You’re a Gryffindor. You can’t see anything but black and white.”
There was a faint ‘ding!’ as the doors of the lift opened, and Zabini gave his hat a sardonic tip. “Well, that’s my floor,” he said, and floated out of the elevator.
Once the doors had closed, Ron slid down to the floor and leaned his head back against the elevator wall. What had just happened? He wasn’t quite sure, but he was sure that Blaise Zabini was one strange man.
Ted was waiting at the door outside Ivy’s Ancient Runes class, having had a free period and nowhere in particular to be. “Bonjour, Mademoiselle,” he said in a truly atrocious French accent while delivering an elaborate bow that nearly caused him to lose his balance and fall on his face. He took several of the heavy books from Ivy’s stack and tucked them under his arm.
“I’ve always wanted a French butler,” Ivy remarked. “But really, you don’t need to carry my books for me. I can manage.”
“Oh, no, I need this,” Ted replied, his tone making it perfectly clear that he was not even remotely serious. “I have to lift weights now and then if I want to keep these fantastic biceps of mine.” He flexed an arm that greatly resembled a limp spaghetti noodle with a hand attached to the end, and Ivy laughed.
“So,” she said, “Emma says that she saw Professor Zabini in the corridor today and he looked like he wanted to rip her head off. She thinks that””
But Ted never did find out exactly what Emma thought about Professor Zabini. At that moment, a girl marched around the corner and headed toward the pair, her amber-coloured eyes narrowed in displeasure as she fixed them on Ivy.
“You,” Charybdis Nott hissed overdramatically, “What did you do to your brother?”
“What happened?” Ivy asked, genuinely worried. “I didn’t know you cared so much about Jordan.”
“Not Potter!” spat Charybdis. “Your real brother! Ophidias! He isn’t talking to me, and he’s being so…quiet and boring and… just weird! And when I asked him what was up with him, he said ‘ask my sister.’ What did you do to him?”
Ted spoke up. “He’s probably just mad at her for helping the Aurors arrest him. He was in Azkaban with a bunch of hardcore criminals and stuff, and he’s still pretty young. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s kind of freaked out.”
“Don’t take it personally,” added Ivy. “Ophidias probably doesn’t really want to talk to you about his feelings”that’s just how he is.”
Charybdis pulled out her wand. “Take that back, blood traitor,” she demanded, edging toward her. “You act like you’re the only person worthy to talk to him, but you’re nothing! You’re just a pathetic little swot! I actually have family pride. I’m in Slytherin. I’ve known Ophidias since I was eleven, and now you’re saying he doesn’t want to talk to me?”
By now, Ivy was very close to the wall, Charybdis’s wand directed at her. “You and your brother, your real brother, are purebloods, but you act like a filthy Mudblood, and now it’s like it’s rubbing off on Ophidias as well. I’m not going to sit back and watch him turn into a disgrace like you. I--”
But before she could utter a single incantation, an extremely strange thing happened.
Ted’s head snapped around, and in two quick steps, lengthy strides with a rangy sort of grace that the normally ungainly Ted had never before possessed”he was between the two girls. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Words seemed alien and foreign, and language meant nothing to him.
“Move,” Charybdis ordered, prodding Ted’s chest with her wand.
The boy’s face distorted into almost a cruel parody of itself, his nostrils flared, eyes fiery slits, eyebrows knitted, lips curled back from bared teeth. He wore an expression of inhuman rage, anger that until then, he’d never borne toward anyone. And inside, he felt completely unlike himself as well. The anger filled his body, disallowing any human thoughts or sane and sensible emotion. He felt simultaneously simpler and stronger, bold and invincible in his actions yet completely horrified by his feelings.
And then, without warning, he lunged forward toward Charybdis, brutally knocking the wand from her hand to the ground with a rough and forceful swing of his arm. His face was inches away from hers as he backed her up toward the corner, looming over her like a long, thin shadow.
He bent down toward her, and when the tip of his nose was nearly touching hers, he growled, a deep and guttural noise that emanated from a part of his voice that had never before come into use. It was an eerie and unearthly sound that would make the hairs stand up on the back of anyone’s neck, including Charybdis’.
She was as white as a sheet, and her mouth formed a stunned ‘o,’ her wand lying forgotten on the ground. Unsure of what this strange new Ted would do to her, she took two uneasy steps sideways.
CRACK! Her wand snapped in two in a shower of green sparks.
“You… you freak!” she howled. “Oh my god, Lupin! Look what you did! What’s the matter with you?” She stared at him for a second, then turned on her heel and fled off down the hallway.
Ted blinked, and suddenly, he was himself again. His body and features relaxed, his mind cleared, and the blinding anger that had filled him melted away. He was just as frightened and confused as Charybdis herself”he had no more idea than she did what on earth he’d just done. It was completely unlike him.
“Ted?” came a soft voice from behind him.
He flinched. The slightest things seemed to set him off these days. “Oh… Ivy…” he said, knowing that if he had been in wolf form, his ears would have flattened and his tail would have hung between his legs. He felt hideously embarrassed that Ivy had seen him behave so strangely.
The girl seemed to realize this and said nothing but, “Er, we should, um, get to our next period. We have Care of Magical Creatures together.” Ugh. Care of Magical Creatures. Ted could just imagine Charybdis Nott hanging him upside down with a sign that said, ”Care For This Magical Creature.”
“Right,” agreed Ted, laying his hand gently on her shoulder. Involuntarily, Ivy stiffened at his touch, and Ted took his hand away. “Sorry,” he mumbled quietly.
Now even Ivy was frightened of him. It was bad enough when people who didn’t know him treated him like an unexploded nuclear warhead just because they’d heard about his ‘condition,’ but this was entirely different.
“Come on, I’m not going to hurt you, you know,” he said, trying to sound casual as he turned to look at her. “I, er, don’t know what happened back there with Charybdis Nott, but I was just trying to protect you. It’s just something I do, like with Haley and the werewolf in fourth year, or when Ophidias tried to shoot that curse at you in third year. I can’t let people I like get hurt when I’m around. It’s just… my thing.”
But he knew there was more to it then just trying to protect her. True, when he’d leaped between Haley and the werewolf, he’d thought of nothing but stopping the werewolf and did not even pause to consider his actions. His mind had just gone on autopilot. But although that had indeed happened, there was something strange, something violent and weird about the way he had behaved this time. He hadn’t even felt like… well, like Ted.
“Why did you growl in her face like that? That wasn’t exactly normal,” Ivy asked, her eyes wide with concern.
Ted shrugged a rather troubled expression crossing his face. “I was really mad at her, and I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t think of anything, and sort of a growl came out instead. I know I don’t usually freak out like that, but it’s the first time something like that’s ever happened.”
Actually, he realized almost as soon as the words left his lips, this was not the first time he had lost control. He’d also growled at Pansy Malfoy the week before. That time, the anger had not been so rigid and all-consuming, and he’d managed to control himself much better, but it had happened all the same.
“Madame Patil said that the insulin potion I’m taking has some side effects, and that they’re worse with the Wolfsbane potion. I know she said one of them’s mood swings or something,” he concluded, trying to reassure himself as well as Ivy. He smiled weakly. “Basically, what I’m saying is, I don’t want you to be scared of me, all right? I can handle myself, and I don’t like to see you get worried.”
He wasn’t absolutely positive that he could, in fact, handle himself, but there was nothing that bothered him more than an anxious, upset Ivy, and he could stand telling a few white lies to preserve her happiness.
She hugged him. “I’d never be scared of you,” she told him softly. “I know you too well.”
“You’d never be scared of me?” repeated Ted, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“No, of course not!”
“Even if I was singing?”
Ivy laughed. “Maybe a little disturbed, but not scared.”
Their sweet moment was, however, short-lived. Just a few moments later, as the two of them were about to walk out onto the grounds for Care of Magical Creatures, they were met by Professors Granger-Weasley, Zabini, and Longbottom.
“Hello!” Ted greeted them brightly.
The professors looked far less cheerful. “Mr. Lupin, I’d like to speak with you for a moment,” Professor Granger-Weasley said seriously, going businesslike as she always did when displeased. She was usually more like a friendly aunt, and this was when Ted realized that all was not well. “Miss Potter, you may go.”
Ivy nodded and, with a reluctant glance over her shoulder, departed, leaving Ted with the teachers. Ah, thought Ted. I think I know what this is all about. And I can see why Ivy wouldn’t want to stick around.
Zabini stepped forward. “Mr. Lupin, I was just informed by Miss Nott that you backed her up a wall and… snarled in her face…causing her to accidentally break her wand. Is this true?”
All heads were turned expectantly, awaiting to see if the Ted really had done what Zabini said he had, or at least admitted to it.
“Erm…yes,” Ted admitted bashfully, wishing that Zabini had not worded it in such a way. He was making him out to be so… vicious. “But Charybdis was threatening Ivy. I had to protect her. I, um, guess I didn’t really think.”
“She does not need ‘protection!’” Professor Granger-Weasley snapped. “She’s a very talented witch who is perfectly capable of defending herself. And frankly, Mr. Lupin, I am astonished. You’re a Prefect. You should be setting an example for the younger students.”
Professor Longbottom spoke for the first time, gliding his wheelchair smoothly between the two other professors. “Charybdis Nott’s a Prefect as well, though, and she was just punished a few days ago for what she did to Anatoly Capshaw. To me, it sounds like she’s trying to stir up trouble.”
“Nonetheless, what Theodore did was wrong!” insisted Professor Granger-Weasley. Ouch. His full name. This had to be serious. “And wands are very expensive. Some sort of punishment is in order, and I won’t hesitate to deduct points from my own House in such circumstances!”
“Yes, I agree that”” Zabini trailed off and slowly turned to look at the boy, squinting in thought. After a dramatic pause, he said, “You are turning seventeen in less than six months, correct?”
Ted nodded. He didn’t see how this could possibly be relevant, but at least the Potions master wasn’t shouting at him.
Zabini turned toward the other two in his company and declared, “Clearly, this incident was unavoidable, and I see no reason to punish him.”
Professor Zabini didn’t want to see a Gryffindor suffer? This was highly atypical, and judging by the other two teachers’ reactions, they felt much the same way.
“He should write Miss Nott an apology,” suggested Professor Longbottom.
Professor Granger-Weasley shook her head. “He’s never gotten into trouble before, and first punishments at Hogwarts are generally harsh to discourage future trouble-making. I don’t want to play favourites, and if he were any other student, he would receive detention.”
It was uncomfortable for Ted to be talked about as though he was not there, and even more uncomfortable that he was being talked about as though he’d recently been arrested for murder.
“Who’s holding general detentions tonight?” asked Professor Longbottom.
Ted shuddered. He’d heard about general detentions before”detentions for things students did outside of any particular class. Usually they were with the caretaker, Andreas Gauge, and involved some kind of painful and messy chores. Though Ted had never personally had detention, Emma and Haley had often regaled him with horror stories.
Zabini’s lip curled. “You’re just like you were in school, Longbottom. You can’t remember a thing, can you? Remus Lupin is doing general detention duty today, just like on every other second and fourth Tuesday of the month.”
Ted blinked. “Wait, I’m going to detention with my dad?”
Professor Granger-Weasley nodded curtly. “Er, yes. I’m sorry, but rules are rules.”
“That’s all right, I understand,” Ted assured her, and he was half-telling the truth. He did understand, but he didn’t exactly feel all right about trying to explain to his father what had come over him.