‘Mr Owen,’ sighed Professor McGonagall, ‘I would have thought by now you would have at least progressed a little. Are you really putting your best efforts into this?’
Truthfully, thought Gordon, as another beetle scuttled along his desk, the answer was probably no. Last year he had enjoyed at least a small amount of success in his Transfiguration classes. He might not have been the best in the class, but he certainly wasn’t the worst either. Yet in his first year he hadn’t had to worry about Quidditch practices, or an over-enthusiastic Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher who seemed to award house points based on the extent of the injuries you gained in his class.
‘I think this class could benefit from a little bit of co-operation amongst its pupils,’ said Professor McGonagall. ‘I’m not sure this air of competition is helpful.’
Gordon had no illusions as to where the gust of competition to which she referred had come from. Whether as a result of the lack of attention people paid in her own classes these days, or simply from the amount of people who had to miss it through injuries, it was no secret that Professor McGonagall was none too fond of Professor Shuan-Qu. Though she would never openly criticise another Hogwarts teacher, references to competition, aggression, and in one case glorified assault, had all been thinly veiled criticisms of their current Defence Against the Dark Arts regime.
Gordon enjoyed Professor Shuan-Qu’s classes, mainly because it was one of the few subjects these days he was good at, but he was also beginning to feel he was in the minority. Eiko seemed to spend at least a quarter of each class on her own in the corner, while Percy had stopped reading the Ripjaw book entirely, and was now reading another Defence Against the Dark Arts book he had gained from the library. Gordon was sure that he would not have done this without discussing it with Professor McGonagall first.
‘I think there would be a great deal to be gained from some group work. This week for homework I will be splitting you into pairs, and I will expect four feet of parchment –’
Almost as one the class broke into groans at the sound of this.
‘– I will have no complaints about this!’ snapped Professor McGonagall. ‘Almost all of you are below the level I expect from my second-year students, and Professor Flitwick tells me your marks in Charms have been noticeably poorer as well.’
Gordon sighed as Professor McGonagall began marking out on the blackboard the various topics she wanted covered in the essay. Apparently, they were going to have to read at least three different books for it, none of which looked particularly interesting.
‘Now, I expect all the work required for these essays to be split equally between the two of you. If I hear of any pair dividing the work unfairly, then the two people involved will be in serious trouble.’
Gordon gave another sigh. Luke had a lot more spare time on his hands than he did, and Gordon was sure Luke could’ve read the books a lot faster than him. His time was looking increasingly less free by the second.
‘You will be paired with people from your own houses, but I shall be choosing the pairs –’
‘Oh, no…’ muttered Gordon, a little too loudly.
‘Oh, yes, Mr Owen!’ exclaimed Professor McGonagall. ‘And you will be working with Mr Weasley! Hopefully he can encourage you to finally put some effort into your work!’
‘Unlucky,’ whispered Luke into Gordon’s ear. Gordon rather wished he was in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and could wipe the smirk off Luke’s face.
‘You, Mr Oakshot, shall be working with Miss Haremia.’
Now it was Gordon’s turn to smirk. Of the two, he’d have probably rather worked with Percy. Luke, however, accepted this without comment, though Veronica was rather more vocal with her protests.
‘But Professor!’ she began, ‘I’d have thought it would have been better if –’
‘I will have no complaints, Miss Haremia. Mr Wood, you will be partnered with Miss Iwai…’
Gordon switched off as Professor McGonagall continued down her list, and began dividing up the Hufflepuffs. How he was going to cope with working with Percy, he did not know. Thankfully, Professor McGonagall gave them three weeks to complete the project, so at least he wouldn’t have to start immediately.
*
Unfortunately, as it turned out, Percy did desire to start immediately. Since Gordon thought it was very likely Percy would report him if he refused, that afternoon he found himself sitting in the library next to him, while he was sure everyone else was in the common room.
‘Let’s see,’ said Percy, as he poured over his copy of A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration. ‘Emeric Switch says that the fundamental difficulties of transfiguration are size, distance and elemental complexity…’
Gordon found himself staring dully out of the window, wondering if he had ever been more bored in his life. His copy of Magical Theory lay open in front of him, while there were several other books lying on the table that Percy had retrieved from the library shelves. Evidently Professor McGonagall’s recommendation that they read at least three books had not gone unnoticed by Percy, who presently had four books open in front of him.
‘…And you do the chapter’s about distance and size?’
‘Huh?’ said Gordon, briefly pulling the remnants of his consciousness back into the library.
‘Are you listening to anything I say?’ said Percy, disparagingly. ‘Gordon, if we expect to get a good mark at this we are going to have to do our best. I for one can not afford to drop marks in this subject if I’m to fo…’
On the library shelves behind Percy, Gordon noticed someone had taken the time to colour co-ordinate the various Herbology books. One’s dealing with water plants all seemed to have blue spines, while the one’s about flowers were…
‘Gordon!’ exclaimed Percy, who was now looking outraged. ‘Listen to me! If you’re not going to do this work, I’ll report you to Professor McGonagall!’
Gordon was about to suggest that he wouldn’t dare do such a thing, but the look in Percy’s eyes made him shut his mouth before the words came out. At the moment, he rather felt that whatever punishment Professor McGonagall issued couldn’t be worse than this.
‘Just read this!’ sighed Percy, passing over A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration. ‘Honestly…’
Gordon sighed and opened up the book. He had read bits of it last year, but generally found The Standard Book of Spells and practical classes to be more helpful. Switch’s book went on about theoretical things that didn’t really concern Gordon. As far as he was concerned, as long as you knew you could change a feather into a needle, there was no need to know why. Still, he supposed if staring at the book would keep Percy quiet, he might as well do it.
They had been in the library for nearly two hours by the time Percy finally decided to call it a day. The notes Percy had taken already totalled nearly three feet of parchment, and his writing was a great deal smaller than Gordon’s. For his part, Gordon had managed to take a foot of notes, though he didn’t know how much use they’d be. Much of his paper was taken up by a scribbled drawing of Percy falling out of one of the library windows.
‘I’ll take your notes, if you want,’ said Percy, as he stacked up the books. ‘I might start on the introduction before bed.’
‘Er…actually I’ll keep hold of them,’ said Gordon, quickly covering up the drawing. ‘I…I could do with re-writing mine; they’re a bit messy.’
Gordon wondered if Percy was going to believe this. Percy sat next to Gordon in several classes, and the notes he took there were as messy as could be. Thankfully, Percy seemed to find this quite acceptable.
‘Yes, that might be a good idea, actually. I’m sure Professor McGonagall would like to see all our working, and I always find things sink in better the second time I write them, don’t you?’
‘Er…sure,’ said Gordon, hastily stuffing the notes into his bag. ‘See you back at the common room!’
‘Hold on,’ said Percy, piling up the books. ‘I’ve just got to take these back to Madam Pince, then I’ll come with you.’
‘Er…no, I’ve got to go and see Professor Shuan-Qu,’ said Gordon, secretly congratulating himself on his improvisation. ‘I won’t be long.’
‘Oh,’ said Percy, looking rather disappointed. ‘Well, see you later then.’
‘Bye,’ said Gordon, before hurrying out of the library.
Gordon managed to run down three sets of random corridors before he slowed to a walk. He was now beginning to think that it might’ve been a better idea to have gone up with Percy. It was nearly dark now and there was nowhere else to go but the common room, but he had been desperate to get away from him. His company was just unbearable.
And yet, Gordon thought as he trudged down another random corridor, why was Percy so annoying? He might always go on about schoolwork, but then you were lucky to get a conversation out of Oliver that wasn’t about Quidditch. Though admittedly Quidditch was great deal more interesting than Transfiguration.
Then there was Luke, Gordon thought, as he turned another corner, eyes now to the floor. Most of the time Gordon really enjoyed Luke’s company, but Gordon had met more sensitive rocks. All right, Percy wasn’t exactly the most responsive individual when it came to how you felt, as Gordon rather angrily thought the last two hours showed, but at least he wasn’t unpleasant.
Gordon felt a pang of guilt as he trudged down the staircase. Was Luke unpleasant? It seemed a fairly awful thing to think, but he did have a nasty habit of winding people up, more so than Oliver, Percy or Kyle anyway. No, Luke was funny, not nasty. He might say things to Percy or Oliver, but it was just his sense of humour. Gordon felt safe in the knowledge that Luke would never betray him.
Gordon’s train of thought came to a crashing halt as he reached the last step of the staircase.
He was at the end of a long, windowless corridor, whose jet-black walls were devoid of any paintings or torches. Gordon was sure that the corridor should be pitch black, yet from the stairs it was difficult to judge whether the corridor was dark or not. It seemed to be illuminated by the walls themselves. As Gordon stared at them he began to feel that they weren’t black at all, just an unfathomably dark green. He had never been to this part of the castle before.
Feeling rather unsettled, but needing to satisfy his curiosity, he peered down the corridor from the bottom step of the stairs. From where he was stood it was difficult to judge exactly how long the corridor was. The dark light made it difficult to see what was the wall at the far end, and what was shadow. Yet there wasn’t anything to cast a shadow, or anything to cast a light. Gordon did not need any further indication to guess that he wasn’t supposed to be here, and took a backwards step up the staircase.
It was then that Gordon became aware of a very faint sound echoing down the corridor. He could only just hear it, as it was impossible to tell what it was. Gordon felt a shiver go down his spine. Even though he couldn’t tell what it was, there was something about that sound that deeply unsettled him.
Then there was another sound, this louder than the first. Gordon felt a sickness growing in his stomach. He peered as far down the corridor as the darkness would allow, and desperately tried to listen. It was a faint wheezing sound, accompanied by scuffed footsteps, as though its owner’s legs were not entirely normal. The sound of footsteps grew louder, though Gordon still couldn’t see anything in the corridor. Whatever it was, it was definitely coming this way. Gordon began increasingly aware of that wheezing noise too. It sounded like whatever was making it hadn’t taken a good breath of air in a very long time. He became increasingly aware of how loud his own breathing was, but as he tried to quieten it, it only seemed to echo more.
Gordon wanted to run, but something kept him staring down that corridor. As a panic began to wash over him he reached into his robe and pulled out his wand. Gripping it tightly in front of him, he noticed his arm was now visibly shaking. The sound of dragging footsteps was very close now, but still he could see nothing. Gordon felt his heart pumping hard in his chest, as the footsteps came closer still. Whatever was making them could only be a few feet away.
Then they stopped.
Gordon desperately wanted to run, but his legs had turned to lead. Somehow he felt that any movement on his part would give himself away, though he was sure from the sound of the footsteps that the beast could only be feet away. If only he could see it! Gordon tried to think of everything Professor Shuan-Qu had told him, when a clammy hand reached onto his shoulder.
Gordon screamed at exactly the same moment as the figured slammed him into the staircase wall, and clamped his hand over Gordon’s mouth. It was Filch.
Gordon was overcome with relief. Granted, being caught by Filch was hardly a cause for celebration, but given the horrible images that had been in Gordon’s mind as he stared down that corridor, Filch was definitely his preferred option. Even as he had Gordon pinned to that wall, his furious face inches from his, Gordon felt relieved. Soon he would let him go, and doubtless have him serve detention polishing the school trophy cabinet. If he didn’t have his hand over Gordon’s mouth, he could’ve beamed a terrific smile at his enraged face.
After a few seconds though, Gordon started to feel something was wrong. At first Gordon had thought Filch was furious, but he seemed to be beyond fury. Gordon could seem a vein throbbing in his temple and his eyes were practically popping out of his skull. Gordon desperately waited for him to say something, even bellow at him, but his mouth just seemed to be trembling.
In fact Filch was completely trembling, and he hadn’t broken his eye contact with Gordon for what seemed like a minutes. His grip on Gordon’s shoulder was hurting quite terribly, and if he gripped any harder Gordon thought he would probably break the skin. Gordon realised his heart was beating as fast as ever. Why wasn’t he letting Gordon speak?
‘…y….y…I…’ wheezed Filch, letting his nails dig through Gordons robes.
Gordon didn’t know if Filch was trying to say something, but knew that he didn’t want to be here. His heart was pumping faster that ever. Filch looked like he was going to kill him. Maybe he was. Gordon would’ve cursed him if he didn’t have his hand over his mouth.
Gordon felt himself going weak under his bulging eyes. He desperately tried to recall everything he’d read from the Haldeir Ripjaw book; anything that would be of any use. He couldn’t speak to cast a spell, he couldn’t hit harder than Filch was holding him; he couldn’t do anything. As Filch’s fingernails dug into his shoulder Gordon winced in pain, and his leg spasmed into a kick.
Filch gave an almighty wheeze as Gordon’s knee caught him between the legs, and he doubled over. In a flash Gordon had already leapt up the first five sets of stairs, and before Filch had chance to look up was already tearing down the corridor he had come down. Run, his mind seemed to be screaming at him. Don’t look back just run. Gordon did nothing else. By the time he passed the library a stitch was burning in his side, but he did not stop. He tore up the steps towards the Gryffindor tower, sprinting with all his might until he reached the portrait of the fat lady.
‘Lunar Volaris! LUNAR VOLARIS!’ he screamed, making the fat lady jump considerably.
‘Calm down dear, there’s no need to sh…’
‘LUNAR VOLARIS!’ bellowed Gordon, and the portrait swung open. He dragged himself through, leaving the fat lady complaining to herself.
Gordon was delighted to see that the common room seemed fairly packed, and if Filch did come looking, he was sure the rest of Gryffindor wouldn’t give him up without a fight. Several third-years on a table looked up at him as he span round looking for someone he knew. It was a second or two before he spotted Luke sat on his own in the corner. Gordon practically leapt over to him, grabbed a high backed armchair, put its back to the door, and collapsed into it; taking possibly his first real breaths since he had left Filch’s grasp.
‘Hard time with Percy then?’ said Luke nonchalantly. ‘If you’re worried about him being around –’
‘I just kicked Filch in the balls,’ blurted out Gordon, trying to look as small as possible in the chair. This information seemed to wash over Luke for a second, before he responded.
‘Congratulations!’ laughed Luke. ‘You know, I didn’t think you had it in you! I’ll get the celebrations –’
‘I’m serious!’ winced Gordon urgently. ‘I thought he was going to kill me!’ Luke laughed again.
‘Filch has never been known for his kind punishments, Giz, and if you were expecting lines after kicking him in the –’
‘I’M SERIOUS!’ bellowed Gordon, so loud that the rest of the common room fell silent. Luke stared at him for a second as he shrunk further into the armchair, desperately aware of how everyone must be looking at him. Luke did not respond until everyone had gone back to their conversations, which Gordon was most grateful for.
‘What happened?’ asked Luke curiously, heaving shut the Haldeir Ripjaw book in front of him.
‘I…I…don’t know,’ said Gordon, who was genuinely unsure where to begin. ‘I found this corridor. It was really weird, not like all the other ones. It’s walls were all black and…what?’
It was Luke’s turn to go pale.
‘…a…a greenish black, if that makes sense?’ Luke offered. His nervousness seemed to convey that Gordon was not the first to find that corridor.
‘Yeah! The one at the bottom of those steps. I was there when Filch…Luke?’
Luke was staring into space, much in the way Gordon had done when Percy was talking in the library. Yet there was something about the look on Luke’s face that Gordon found quite disconcerting.
‘It’s nothing,’ he said. Gordon felt he had said this rather too quickly for it to be true.
‘Have you been down that corridor?’
Luke opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Gordon felt himself horribly reminded of how Filch had been a few moments before.
‘…it…what did Filch do?’ said Luke, quickly changing the point.
‘He slammed me into the wall, and wouldn’t let go,’ said Gordon, his shoulder hurting at the thought. ‘And he clamped his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t speak. I’ve never seen him so angry.’
Gordon found himself nursing his shoulder as he said this. In the back of his mind he was still wondering how Luke’s knew about that corridor, but Luke didn’t seem keen to let on.
‘Yeah, well, he’s been a bit like that all year,’ said Luke, some colour returning to his face.
‘Not like that,’ shuddered Gordon. ‘I mean he was really, really angry. I think he’d have killed me if I’d have let stayed there.’
‘Look,’ said Luke matter-of-factly, ‘you’re not the first to be grabbed hold of by Filch, I’m sure. He’ll have just been in a bad mood. You know what he’s like.’
Gordon stared at his friend, wondering who his calmness was directed at. If he had have been there he wouldn’t be talking like this. When Filches fingers were digging into his shoulder…
Gordon pulled his robe collar to the side and looked at his shoulder, where several unmistakable cuts were bleeding slightly, and a large bruise was forming.
‘That angry?’ he said, showing Luke.
Luke’s eyebrows nearly got lost in his hair as he examined Gordon’s shoulder.
‘Oh, my God…Giz, he isn’t allowed to do that!’
‘I know! He was furious –’
‘No. No, really! He isn’t allowed to do that!’ said Luke, staring in disbelief. ‘Giz, you’ve got to report this!’
‘What?’
‘You’ve got to report this!’ exclaimed Luke. ‘That’s like, I don’t know, assault or something! He can’t do that!’
‘Yeah, but I kicked him in the stones, didn’t I? Who am I going to tell that would believe me over him?’ said Gordon, feeling rather conscious and buttoning up his collar. Luke’s eyes were still resting on his shoulder.
‘McGonagall? Maybe even Dumbledore? You can’t let him get away with that!’
‘They’re not going to take my word over Filch’s! He’s a member of staff!’
‘What about your shoulder! What can he say to that?’
‘That someone else did it maybe?’ said Gordon, feeling like he’d rather discuss this away from the rest of the common room. ‘I could’ve got it in Defence Against the Dark Arts, he’ll turn it against Professor Shuan-Qu!’
Luke was about to speak, but seemed to stop at this. Whether it was because he didn’t want Professor Shuan-Qu to get into trouble either, or because he finally realised that Gordon wasn’t budging, he didn’t press the point.
‘You’re going to have to be careful, then,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t know why the hell he did that, but I think you should stay clear of Filch for a while. Stay out of his sight.’
‘Well, thank you, sir-thinks-a-lot, but if you thought I was going to go and pay him a visit –’
‘No,’ said Luke, ‘I mean really stay out of his sight. If he did want to kill you, kicking him where it hurts probably didn’t help.’
‘I can’t skip classes!’ said Gordon, mournfully. ‘He’s always prowling the corridors, he’s bound to spot me at some point.’
‘Maybe not,’ said Luke.
‘So what? You’re going to conjure up a potion to disguise me or something?’
Luke let out a rather long sigh.
‘I don’t know any potion that’ll change your appearance – or at least none that wouldn’t create more attention than normal – but I think you could do some minor alterations with Transfiguration.’
Luke looked up at Gordon’s hair as he said this. Gordon caught the drift.
‘Well, that’s all well and good,’ he replied miserably, ‘but I couldn’t transfigure my way out of a paper bag, and you’re not exactly a dab hand at it either.’
For a moment Luke stared back with an incredulous look on his face, before calming himself and replying.
‘Well, all right, maybe I’m a bit off form,’ said Luke uncomfortably, ‘but you might be able to use some outside help.’
Gordon stared at his friend for a second, before uttering a rather lengthy groan.
Gordon Owen and the Eastern Warrior - Book Two of the Evil Kneazle Series by AurorKeefy
Chapter Notes: Another short chapter for you guys. They pick up in length again, fear not!
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