CHAPTER 7: SPEWed
As the days wore on, O'Bannon tried to accept his circumstances best he could. He used the time he'd normally hang out with friends to do his homework, and the teachers at Hogwarts had assigned massive amounts of it. He also spent more time lifting, either with free weights or by putting a Weight Charm on a broomstick. All the while, he tried to convince himself that he did not feel lonely.
But that was a lie. Many times during meals he scanned for any owls headed his way. It had been over a week since he sent Espo back to the US with his letter to Rosa, Jared and Artimus. He still didn't know what to do as far as writing his parents. How worried would Mom be if he told her everything that had happened to him at this place?
Worst of all, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it, he always managed to do something that cost Gryffindor points. Twice he got caught by prefects in the corridors after hours, both times getting lost coming back from the library. Stupid magical staircases that changed their location from one day to the next.
The first time cost him five points. The second time it had been fifteen. Five for being caught in the corridors, and ten more because the prefect who caught him, Simon Hurst, decided to give him a lecture on the importance of following school rules.
"Aw, tell it to someone who gives a crap."
Hurst took the whole "do not show disrespect to a prefect during the performance of his or her duties" thing very seriously.
Every time O'Bannon went through the entrance hall, his eyes drifted to the four large hourglasses mounted to the wall. Each one was filled with colorful rubies, and represented the points earned or lost by each House. Gryffindor had a lot more rubies in the bottom half of its hourglass than the other three Houses. Sometimes when he walked past, a crowd of Gryffindors stood in front of the hourglass, looking upset and shaking their heads. A few of them aimed scowls his way.
O'Bannon scowled back.
He did have some bright spots in his otherwise suck-ass days. Charms had become a favorite class of his. The teacher, Professor Flitwick, may have been shorter than Dennis Creevey, but what he lacked in height he made up for in sheer talent. Plus the little teacher was a very nice, very humorous guy.
But no class could compare with Defense Against the Dark Arts. While some complained that Professor Moody had turned it into an auror training course, O'Bannon loved every minute of it. He'd much rather use his wand than open a book for this subject. His second DADA class had been even better than his first. Moody took them outside, told them he'd placed a pennant in the middle of the Quidditch field, and whoever captured it would not have to do that day's homework.
"And before I forget, every wizard and witch for themselves!"
They dashed across the school grounds, dozens of multi-colored bolts sizzling through the air. O'Bannon took out five of his classmates, including Arnfelt, before one of the Weasleys blindsided him with a Stunning Spell. In the end, only the Weasley twins remained, and stood proudly next to the pennant.
"I said everyone for themselves!" Moody bellowed. "Now one of you stun the other, or you'll both wind up doing that homework."
Fred and George looked to one another. Both raised their wands at the same time. Both yelled, "Stupefy!" at the same time.
Both fell to the ground at the same time.
Winner, no one.
Still it was an awesome class, so awesome he barely noticed Arnfelt's glare as they headed back to the castle.
Looks like someone's not gonna follow in their father's footsteps.
On Friday, O'Bannon ate lunch in the Great Hall, at the far end of the Gryffindor table as usual, and read a copy of The Daily Prophet. The paper continued to hammer the Ministry of Magic over the attack on the Quidditch World Cup. But he hadn't seen any stories about Death Eaters causing further trouble. He became convinced the attack had been an isolated incident, just like Mrs. Diaz told him before he left.
They probably figure they had some fun, now it's time to crawl back under their rock and stay there.
A small dark shape appeared in his peripheral vision. He turned as a familiar-looking owl swooped toward him.
"Espo!" He beamed as the dark-colored bird landed beside him. "Am I glad to see a friendly face."
O'Bannon stroked the owl under its chin as it dropped an envelope in front of him. He tore off a piece of his sandwich for Espo, gave the bird a goblet of water to drink from and opened the envelope.
Dear Jimmy,
Rosa here. I'm so sorry things are so horrible for you there. What's wrong with all the kids over there? I can't believe not a single person there can see what a great guy you are. Merlin's beard, I wish there was something we could do to help. Please hang in there. I'm sure things will get better soon. They have to.
O'Bannon frowned. Don't hold your breath.
Jared's paragraph came next. Yo, man! That sucks that things suck at Hogwarts. And, dude, it sucks not having you here with us. We all miss you. Don't let all those buttheads over there get to you. Everyone back here loves your Muggle-born ass.
He couldn't help but laugh over that line.
Artimus went last. Hi, Jimmy. I'm sorry things are not going well for you at Hogwarts. I wish I had some advice on how to make things better for you, but I don't. I'm sorry. I hope things improve for you soon.
He read the letter over and over again. Being stuck at this school with so many people who couldn't stand him, it was easy to forget there were others in the world who actually liked him. A feeling he hadn't had in nearly two weeks swelled inside him. Happiness. Happiness over this small connection to three people back at Salem he considered his brothers and sister.
He'd be even happier if he got a letter from Penny.
That happened the next day at breakfast. The letter, which carried the flowery scent of perfume, mentioned how much she missed him and how sorry she was he hated it at Hogwarts and how she wished he could come back to Salem.
Just keep me in your thoughts, like I'm keeping you in mine.
I love you always.
Penny
O'Bannon didn't think it possible to feel happy and depressed at the same time. But that turned out to be the case after he read Penny's letter. He felt thrilled to hear from his girlfriend. Then a hole formed in his chest when he realized how much he missed her.
He kept the two letters in his pocket. It made him feel like he had his friends and girlfriend with him in spirit. Maybe he could use that to help him get through this ordeal, to let him know no matter how bad things got at Hogwarts, there were at least four people out there who gave a damn about him.
By Saturday afternoon, O'Bannon had most of his homework finished. He decided to take a break by going to the library and doing something he'd wanted to do since his first night at Hogwarts.
Learn more about this Tri-Wizard Tournament.
He came across what looked like a perfect book. The Entire, Complete, Definitive History of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. O'Bannon pulled the thick leather-bound book from the shelf and strode down the aisle. He passed a table occupied by a short girl with long dirty blond hair and radish-shaped earrings. She stared at the cover of a book that had drawings of several magical creatures. That's all she did. Stare at it. She made no attempt to open the book. He also swore he heard the girl mutter, "That's not right. No it's not."
He found an empty table, far away from the strange girl, sat down and opened the book.
Holy crap, he thought after reading the first seven pages. The opening chapter detailed those tournaments in which none of the school champions survived. That had happened in half the tournaments. A few times they all died in the same task, like in 1664 when the champions tried to defeat a chimera. Another example took place in 1739, when the champions tried, and obviously failed, to get through a nest of acromantulas.
And they want to bring this thing back?
O'Bannon shook his head. Even had he been seventeen, even with Dumbledore's assurance that the tournament had been made safer, there was no way in hell he'd enter this thing.
"Excuse me. But is that The Entire, Complete, Definitive History of the Tri-Wizard Tournament you have there?"
O'Bannon looked up from the book. A short girl with bushy brown hair and buck teeth stood in front of the table, arms crossed, looking impatient.
"Yeah."
"Oh. Because I had wanted to read that."
And people in Hell want ice water. Somehow, he kept himself from saying that. Maybe having the letters from Penny and Rosa and Jared and Artimus in his pockets, feeling like they were watching over him, made him behave himself.
"Um . . . well, I'm reading it right now. You can have it when I'm done."
The girl's brow furrowed. "Oh! You must be that American exchange student. O'Bannon, right?"
"Tha's me."
"Wonderful." The girl dropped into the chair opposite him and thrust out her hand. "Hermione Granger. I'm a Fourth Year here."
O'Bannon stared at Hermione's hand in shock. Somebody in Gryffindor was actually being nice to him?
He decided not to pass up the opportunity and shook her hand. "Jimmy O'Bannon. Sixth Year."
"Excellent. Now, being from America, you would be perfect for our organization."
O'Bannon drew his head back, puzzled. "What organization?"
Hermione reached into her pocket and placed a green badge on the table. He picked it up and looked at the four large black letters imprinted on it.
"SPEW? Yeah, that sounds nice."
The skin around Hermione's nose crinkled in annoyance. "Not 'spew.' S-P-E-W. Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."
O'Bannon's eyes flickered between the badge and Hermione. "Okay? Why do elves need their welfare promoted?"
Hermione let out a short gasp, as though offended he didn't know anything about this SPEW group. Moments later, a look of understanding came over her face. "Of course. Being from America you wouldn't know about the mistreatment of our House Elves."
"Huh?"
"Well your elves are all free. Mind you, it took your country seventy years after The Great Break with our country to do it. Nonetheless, America has recognized the injustice of elf enslavement. You don't keep your elves hidden from the wizarding public like we do here. I'm sure you must have elves at your school, which one is it?"
"Salem."
"Oh yes. The first officially established wizarding school in America, if you don't count the ones created by your indigenous peoples before the Europeans arrived. But surely you must see House Elves . . ."
"Servant Elves."
"Servant Elves, right. Anyway, you must see them around your school, correct?"
O'Bannon shrugged. "Yeah, sure. They're always around, wiping windows and cleaning the floors and tending the gardens."
"Oh, excellent. Then you can see for yourself how much your elves enjoy their freedom."
His eyes widened in disbelief. "Enjoy? Look, um, Hermione, our elves don't enjoy anything."
"How can you say that? They're free. They get paid."
"Yeah, and they're also the most miserable creatures I've ever met. And as far as getting paid, if you want a Servant Elf to do something, you have to tip 'em before they lift a finger to work. Oh yeah, and whatever you tip 'em, they never think it's enough, and they're not afraid to tell you."
"Oh. I didn't realize that." Hermione lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked back up at him. "Still, it's their right to be miserable if they want. After all, they're free. Can you imagine what would happen if one of our House Elves got cheeky with their master?"
O'Bannon didn't know enough about British elves to say one way or another.
"Look," Hermione continued. "All it takes to join S-P-E-W is two Sickles. That buys you the badge, and whatever is leftover will go to fund our leaflet campaign. Best of all, being from America, you can be our chief spokesman and help rally people to our cause by telling them how freedom has benefited the elves in America."
O'Bannon barked out a laugh. "Are you serious? Me? Your spokesman? I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly popular in Gryffindor. If you want someone to help you drum up membership for 'spew'," Hermione's nostrils flared at that word, "you better find someone else."
"Well, the reason you're not popular is because you keep costing our House points. Gryffindor takes winning the House Cup very seriously."
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
Hermione scowled at his sarcastic comment. "Anyway, one thing you need to do is stop being smart toward the prefects. In a way, they are an extension of the teachers' authority. And you also need to make sure to get back to Gryffindor Tower well before curfew. Honestly, that's about the easiest rule here to follow. There should be no reason to break it."
Now O'Bannon began to stew. First this girl comes off as wanting to be his friend, then she starts lecturing him?
I don't need this crap.
"You know what?" He pushed himself away from the table. "I just remembered I have something else to do. The book's yours, if you want it. Have a good one."
"Oh." Hermione appeared a little put off. "Well, um, thank you. Oh! I hope you weren't reading about the Tri-Wizard Tournament to find a way to fool that impartial judge, like Fred and George are. That's sure to cost our House more points."
O'Bannon closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. Somehow, he kept himself from turning around and ripping into Hermione. He just grumbled under his breath and stalked out of the library.
That girl will make a good prefect.
He continued down the corridor, ignoring the suits of armor, the statues and the moving tapestries that lined it. How could he keep having bad luck with all the kids at this school? Finally he came across someone who acted civilized toward him and she turned out to be some bossy wingnut for a group named after a bodily function.
O'Bannon reached into his pocket and pulled out his letters. Just seeing Penny's writing was enough to settle him down. Reading Jared's paragraph made him laugh again. Even with his sucky circumstances here at Hogwarts, Jared found a way to put a humorous twist on it and make him smile. O'Bannon felt lucky to have a best friend like Jared Diaz.
And best friends like Rosa Infante and Artimus Rand.
And an awesome, smoking hot girlfriend like Penny Nich-
"Hey, O'Bannon!"
He spun around. That sounded like –
He glimpsed Bernard Arnfelt leaning out from behind a suit of armor ten feet away. An orange beam tore through the letters in his hand, blasting them into confetti, and struck him in the chest. O'Bannon stumbled back. His skin sloshed about. He felt like a dozen balloons tried to burst from his body. Boils the size of basketballs rose from his arms and head and chest. He lost his balance and toppled over.
Laughter reached his ears. He looked up and saw a smirking Arnfelt standing over him.
"How's that for skill, you tosser?"
Arnfelt headed off, his laughter echoing off the stone walls.
O'Bannon half-stumbled, half-crawled in the direction of the Hospital Wing. It took about fifteen minutes, but eventually he came upon the entrance way. He smiled. Hopefully the school nurse could rid him of these boils.
Arnfelt. Asshole.
He was three steps from the entrance when Peeves flew past and dumped two full ink bottles on his head.
The school nurse, Madam Pomfrey, went pale with shock when she heard the words O'Bannon screamed at the top of his lungs.
XXXXX
A simple Scourgify spell got rid of the ink. The boils, unfortunately, proved more difficult. O'Bannon had to spend the rest of the weekend in the Hospital Wing as Madam Pomfrey used a combination of spells and foul-tasting potions to make them go away.
She also lectured him about his foul language.
O'Bannon didn't say a word back to her. In fact, he barely said a word period his entire time in the Hospital Wing. Most times he just stared at the wall. Anger burned inside him, every second, every minute, every hour. He did nothing to lessen it. On the contrary, he stoked it until it raged like a forest fire. It was easy to do. He just had to imagine the face of one person. One crap-sucking, piss-drinking walking bucket of snail puke.
Bernard Arnfelt.
What the hell was his problem? So he'd bested him in a couple duels. So what? How many times had Rosa beaten him in duels back at Salem? Sure he wanted to win every time. As an athlete, he was naturally competitive. But he'd never conceive of ambushing Rosa like that just because she beat him.
Thinking of Rosa also made him think of the letters, the letters Arnfelt's damn spell blew apart, the letters that made him feel connected to his friends back at Salem. He doubted there was enough left of the letters to put them back together even with magic. Even if there had been, by now Hogwarts' unpleasant custodian, Mr. Filch, would have swept them up and put them in the garbage.
They were gone. Jared's humorous words of encouragement. Penny's perfume scented letter with the words, "I love you always." They were all gone. Gone forever.
Madam Pomfrey discharged him shortly after he woke up Monday morning. His face, arms and shoulders still bore massive red welts. Madam Pomfrey had given him a healing balm which should clear them up in a couple of days.
O'Bannon stalked back to Gryffindor Tower. He could feel his face turn dark red, and it had nothing to do with the welts. When he entered the common room, he caught sight of several students watching him, then quickly looking away. He noticed the brunette and the Indian girl – Lavender and Parvati he thought their names were – snickering behind their hands.
He whipped his head toward them.
Both girls shut up immediately.
He showered, dressed and stomped back down the stairs. The few students in the common room determinedly avoided looking his way.
O'Bannon's fists clenched the entire way to the Great Hall. Arnfelt's face hovered in his mind's eye. Then his letters would take its place. Letters he no longer had. He tried to recall the exact scent of the perfume Penny had put on her letter, but a memory could never take the place of the real thing.
He approached the entrance to the Great Hall, and froze. Standing near the arched doorway was Arnfelt, chatting with a couple of friends. O'Bannon also caught sight of the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan nearby. Their heads swung his way, then to Arnfelt.
The auror's son must have spotted him, for he looked O'Bannon's way and laughed.
"You're looking much better today, O'Bannon. Fancy another go in Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Arnfelt and his two friends laughed even louder.
O'Bannon couldn't say for sure what happened next. It felt like something just exploded in his brain. Suddenly he felt his hands clutching Arnfelt's robes and slamming him against the brick wall. He shouted something, but had no idea what words came from his mouth. He just knew they were angry words.
Arms draped all over him, trying to move him. O'Bannon kept his grip on Arnfelt and slammed him into the wall again.
"Pry him off, Lee!"
"What the hell do you think I'm doing, Fred?"
"Blimey! This Yank's not big, but he's bloody strong!"
O'Bannon clenched his teeth, feeling his grip slacken from Arnfelt's robes. He tried to ram him into the wall one last –
BANG!
Everyone jumped at the sound. The cloud of rage that had wrapped around O'Bannon's head disintegrated. He looked around the corridor, breathing heavily.
Professor Snape stood a few feet away, a smoking wand raised in the air.
"Fighting in the corridors, O'Bannon?"
He said nothing. All he could do was breathe heavily.
"I think fifty points from Gryffindor is sufficient, along with three nights of detention."
O'Bannon just stared at him, still taking heavy breaths, physically and emotionally numb.
"Oh, and lest I forget, fifty points from you, Arnfelt, along with three nights of detention."
Shouts of disbelief rose from the Gryffindors in the corridor.
"But, Professor," said one of Arnfelt's friends. "Bernard was the one who was attacked."
"It takes two to fight. Oh, Weasley, Weasley and Jordan. Ten points each from you."
"What!" blurted one of the Weasleys.
"We were trying to break it up," said the other.
"Well you didn't try hard enough, did you?" Snape sneered at them before looking at O'Bannon. "And you can forget about breakfast, O'Bannon. I'm taking you to see Professor McGonagall. I'm sure she'll love to hear what a violent, disruptive exchange student she has in her House."
Snape jerked his head as a silent order to follow him down the corridor. O'Bannon obeyed, keeping his eyes straight ahead. Slowly, he grasped the fact that his attack on Arnfelt just cost Gryffindor 130 points. It also put him in detention for three nights. Detention? Him? The last time he got detention was his Third Year.
O'Bannon lowered his head as they approached McGonagall's office. Fighting. Detention. More than a hundred points deducted from Gryffindor. Could his life at Hogwarts get any worse?
TO BE CONTINUED
