Chapter 7
Professor Umbridge decided that the best course of action to punish Ziad was to give him two weeks of nightly detentions. With no proof as to his insurgency and the failure of Cornelius Fudge to get Dumbledore out of the picture, she was left somewhat impotent, and took that out on Ziad. Parvati was merely placed on a form of parole.
At eight PM sharp Ziad stepped into the pink explosion of Umbridge's office. She smiled sweetly at him and gestured at a small stool and writing table with a small slip of paper and quill.
"Tonight you will be doing lines. You will write, 'I will obey school rules' as many times as it takes the lesson to, ah, sink in." She gave a creepy little laugh.
Ziad sat down and picked up the quill. Umbridge returned to her work. He put the quill on the paper. He wrote I. A sharp pain pricked the back of his right hand. A faint red mark appeared. Umbridge glanced over at him and smiled at his sudden grimace of pain.
"Continue, Mr. Jarrah."
Ziad looked at the paper, at the quill, and at his hand. He concealed a grin. He could beat this.
Two hours later, Umbridge looked up from her work and gave Ziad a fake smile.
"Let's see how well you've learned your lesson."
She grabbed his right hand and looked at the back of it.
She blinked. She looked again.
"Ah."
When Ziad left her office, he cradled his hand gingerly. Parvati was waiting outside in apprehension.
"What did she do to you? I heard she tortured Harry or something."
"It's all fine. She just made me write lines."
Parvati looked a little disappointed. "Are you sure she didn't use unforgivable curses on you, waterboard you, use Chinese water torture, or whip you?"
Ziad glanced at her in surprise. "Well, aren't you a little sadist."
She looked a little hurt. Ziad grinned maliciously and wrapped his arm around her shoulders in a conspiratorial manner.
"See," he showed her the back of his hand, she gasped and then laughed out loud, "I am too."
Later, Harry pulled Ziad aside.
"Hey Ziad, I heard Umbridge has you in two weeks of detention?"
Ziad smiled. "No, she decided to cut me some slack. Just the one night."
Harry looked confused, "How'd you pull that one off? I feel like I've had detentions with her half the bloody year?"
Ziad showed Harry the back of his hand.
"Oh."
Then Harry face-palmed. "I should have thought of something like that before. Stupid!"
Ziad laughed and re-wrapped the bandage around his hand, covering the, ahem, rather vulgar drawing now scarred across the back of his hand.
"She even tried to heal it, but it turns out that quill does its job a little too well. Then she gave me this bandage and told me to leave. Bloody silly, really."
Harry laughed and slapped Ziad's back. "Good going, mate. See you around." He walked off, shaking his head and chuckling to himself.
Easter holiday began the next day, and Ziad spent most of the time sleeping, praying, and reading as his friends prepared for the OWL's. He helped Parvati study, but usually she got frustrated with his ignorance and ended up teaching him half the crap she had to learn, which resulted in her actually knowing the information better, as well as an increase in Ziad's knowledge.
But mostly it was just boring, with no DA meetings, classes, or eruptions of demons from the Dungeon Dimensions.
Classes started up again, and due to the lack of DA meetings, April seemed to be shaping up to be an incredibly dull month.
Parvati and Padma were walking to the owlery to send a letter home when they heard a strange sound coming from behind a closed door. It was a quiet whimpering sound, almost like someone crying.
"You don't think it's something... Occult... Do you?" muttered Padma.
"This is a magical academy, you know," responded Parvati.
"Well, yes, but more occult is what I mean."
"Keep it together, will you?
"I am together-"
"Remember what mum told us- if we are united what can possibly harm us?"
"Well, for one, a great big-"
"Shut up!"
Parvati pushed open the door. The room behind was warm and quiet, except for the soft sound. It was full of old school books that quietly rustled in time to the crying sound.
"It sounds pretty upset," whispered Padma.
"No shit, Sherlock."
They rounded the corner of a thirty-foot pile of potions textbooks and found Ziad Jarrah sitting down in a creaky old plush-leather chair, softly crying and clutching a letter in his left hand.
They stared at him for a bit. He eventually sighed, looked up, and said, "Usually some form of comforting happens, or somebody says 'oh no, what's wrong?'"
"Oh no, what's wrong?" repeated Parvati and Padma in unison.
Ziad sighed and waved the letter, "This is what's bloody wrong."
Parvati and Padma looked at the letter. It was a very official typed document, clearly of muggle origins, and utterly indecipherable as it was written in Arabic.
"So, um..." Parvati said, "What's the letter say?"
"'Dear Mr. Ziad Jarrah," Ziad read aloud,
"We regret to inform you of the death of your sister, Mariam Jarrah, on April 18th, 1996. She was working at the UN Compound at Qana when it was hit by Israeli artillery fire. Her remains have been interred in Beirut.
My sincere apologies,
Robert McCormack (UNIFIL team leader- Irish Defense Forces)'"
Ziad gave a mirthless laugh. "My sister has worked for the UN to help orphans displaced by the Lebanese-Israeli conflict since she was a teenager. I hate to see the irony in this, but it sure as hell is there."
Parvati and Padma glanced at each other. "I'm... Terribly sorry, Ziad," Parvati said, "I really am. Is there anything I can do to help?"
Ziad looked at the ceiling and dragged his sleeve across his face. "No. Just... Don't talk about it, I guess." He laughed again and pulled another piece of paper out of his pocket, this one hand-written in hesitant English. "This one's from my mother, in which she apologizes and says she will have to return to Lebanon to clear up her poor daughter's effects." Ziad scoffed, "My mother hated my sister since from the moment she was born. My father did too, especially after my sister was old enough to debate politics. I guess she didn't hate Jews enough for him."
Ziad continued, "When she turned sixteen she ran off with an Israeli soldier. Then he got killed a week later and she ran away to Israel. She stayed in Jerusalem and married an Israeli. She got the job with the UN. She made more money in a year than my father saw in his life. My father and his comrades decided to plot an attack on Israel, so they went to Gaza, leaving me and my mother in Beirut. When we found out he had been killed, we left for Britain the next day, leaving everything behind. We arrived with no money. So my mother will be after my sister's money. Greedy bitch."
He went silent.
Parvati and Padma left and sent their letter, feeling rather fortunate with their lot in life.
Ziad spent the rest of April and May rather depressed. He didn't talk very much, and then only in direct response to questions. He stopped showing up to Tehrik-i-Taliban meetings, which resulted in the effective disbandment of the group.
Exams came and went, OWL's were given.
Parvati left the History of Magic OWL feeling rather muddled and exhausted. Ziad was waiting outside, hands tucked into his pockets, circles under his eyes.
"Hey, Ziad."
"..."
"It went fine, thanks."
"Good." he muttered softly.
Parvati sighed, and felt guilty for feeling irritated at him. He had suffered severe emotional trauma, after all. But he didn't need to make everyone else so depressed, did he?
They were walking down a corridor when Ginny Weasley stopped them and shouted to the slowly-gathering crowd, "You can't come down here! No, sorry, you're going to have to go round by the swivelling staircase, someone's let off Garrotting Gas just along here-"
"I can't see no gas," said one surly Gryffindor.
"That's because it's colorless," said Ginny exasperatedly.
Ziad grumbled and was turning around when he saw a flash of the back of a hand- with strange letter-like red scars etched across it. The funny thing, though, was that the hand was completely disconnected from a body. Ziad stopped, and Parvati did too.
"What's up?"
"I... I just saw..." When Ginny's back was turned, Ziad walked down the hallway, and failed to choke on any 'gas.' He saw Umbridge's office door swing open seemingly of its own accord, and then swing shut. He stood outside the door for a minute staring. He heard muted conversation withing. Parvati walked up beside him.
"Who is that? It's not Umbridge. And why was Ginny talking about Garrotting Gas?"
"I don't know," answered Ziad.
At that moment, a large group of Slytherins rounded the corner, holding Ginny, Luna Lovegood, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom hostage.
"Huh. We should probably run."
"Yeah."
They stood still. Malfoy's wand flicked out and, for once, didn't stun Ziad, but simply bound him with ropes of air. Parvati was similarly bound.
"Well, isn't this a fun way to spend an afternoon."
"Seriously, Ziad? Where was this sense of humor the last month-and-a-half?"
"It hits me at the strangest times, doesn't it?"
Umbridge appeared as well, and the motley crew was trouped into her office, where Umbridge pulled Harry out of a fire (Ziad kept his shock at seeing someone voluntarily sticking their face into an actively burning fire to himself).
To make a long story short, they were interrogated for a while. Umbridge yelled at them all before Hermione and Harry were dragged out towards the forbidden forest for some reason (Ziad must have missed something- he generally tended to zone out and daydream during times of intense stress). The rest of them were left with the falsely confident Slytherins.
"Soo..." Ziad said, "Did you hear? Brazil won something in Football."
Everyone groaned.
"Goddammit." Parvati muttered.
"Everyone shut up!" Malfoy squeaked.
"Have it your way."
"I said-"
Ziad twisted and managed to catch Goyle (who was the one responsible for guarding Ziad) in a tender spot between the legs with his knee. Goyle collapsed and the bonds holding Ziad were released. Malfoy stared at Ziad, and for once failed to stun him before Ziad's fist crashed into his throat. Malfoy collapsed, choking.
The rest of the Slytherins were doing nothing, which allowed the others to free themselves using a couple of stunners, a disarming charm, an impediment jinx, and a bat bogey hex.
Ron looked at Ziad.
"That was the coolest thing I've ever seen happen regarding Malfoy."
They all looked at Malfoy, who was slowly choking to death on his slowly swelling larynx.
"Can somebody do something to prevent him from dying?" said Ziad.
"Do we have to?" said Ron.
Parvati sighed and flicked her wand. Malfoy stopped choking.
"Damn." sighed Ron.
Neville looked at them all. "We should go help Harry and Hermione. There's no telling what could happen in the Forbidden Forest. That's why it's Forbidden"
"Oh, I thought it was forbidden because it was full of candy and happiness."
"Shut up, Ziad."
Twenty minutes later, Ziad found himself riding a rather bony winged horse (Harry called it a "Thestral," Ziad called it an "AAAAHHHH OH GOD!") towards London and God-knew-what.
This had certainly been quite the most interesting six months in Ziad Jarrah's sixteen years of life.
Author's Note:
After this chapter, all further chapters will be titled with a song title. If you know the song, good for you.
