Aperio Vis Vires
Hufflepuff house stood in a rather short, squat and unremarkable tower that jutted out from the dominating castle. The quaint garden that lay beneath it did little to improve its presence. Something in the décor jarred unseemly. Perhaps it was the color of the flowers or the fact that the homely little tower had long ago been swallowed by a mound of green.
The ivy's groping, creeping hand had slowly claimed possession of these walls; its torturous veins leeching life giving water from the mortar, gradually crumbling it to dust. Ivy and stone, forever united; one to fall without the other. Only the windows, thanks to the commitment of many a caring elf, had remained free of the ancient hungering plant.
If one looked within these east-facing windows, one would at first blink to try and adjust one's eyesight before observing the scene below.
The room was large, but not overtly so. On one side stood a massive fireplace, the fire lit. Black sofas and armchairs littered the floor. What would otherwise have been a pleasant scene was ruined by the canary yellow comforters and banners that clashed horribly with the grey stone.
A rather rumpled drabby looking girl sat in a corner. Her eyes were closed, her eyebrows drawn in concentration, her mouth pinched and narrow. A group of black robed youth sat at a nearby table doing homework, occasionally shooting her irritated glances… or spitballs.
Suddenly, a pained expression crossed her face. She scrunched her nose. A spasm shook her narrow shoulders and she shifted her weight. The tension built up.
"Aaaaaahhh..ATCHOOOOO!!!" Midgeon sneezed.
"Finally! Will you stop sitting still at last! It's unnatural," yelled Rebecca jumping out of her seat from which she had been scowling intermittently.
After blowing her nose, Eloise adopted a rather imperious expression. "I was trying to perform a bit of wandless magic! I had hoped you'd be a bit more supportive. And I hardly see how my sitting still would bother you. It's hardly disruptive."
"You NEVER sit still unless you're actually sleeping while pretending to pay attention during class," continued an outraged Rebecca. "You constantly fidget!"
"And that's a good thing?!" cried Eloise in disbelief.
"That's all in the past now," soothed Zacharias, attempting to quell the argument before it blew out of proportion. "Look! You really did manage to make the feather move."
"I did?" Eloise looked down at the table before her. The feather (the subject of her testing) did indeed lie several inches from its initial location. "YES! I DID IT! I, IN THE STEPS OF MERLIN HIMSELF, HAVE MANAGED TO PERFORM WANDLESS MAGIC!"
"…or have managed to perform a conveniently directed sneeze," muttered Rebecca.
"Ohh…." Eloise deflated, her momentary euphoria dissipating into thin air.
The group at a nearby table laughed raucously.
"I suppose I have you to thank for the stylish new addition to my robes," said Midgeon dryly, lifting up her spitball covered sleeve.
"We're simply showing our appreciation of Muggle customs," smirked Rebecca as the others continued to wallow in mirth. "You shouldn't have taught us. You make too good a target sitting there immobile with your eyes closed for minutes at a time."
Eloise sighed in frustration. Her weekend had been less than stellar. Far from likening it to the depths of space, she would have described it as a sun deprived bug crawling at the bottom of a mine. She had finally managed to track down Zabini and confront him with her suspicions of Snape, only to have him collapse in laughter at her "Puff paranoia". He had patted her condescendingly on the shoulder before walking off in a noticeably brighter mood composing some poor ditty or other glorifying her stupidity. She sometimes thought he was as bad as peeves.
On the Slug Front, her revenge had ground to a complete halt. She had tried to recruit fellow conspirators but had encountered a wall of apathy. No one cared. Everyone who took potions was simply relieved that Snape no longer taught it. Except maybe… Malfoy? Cross that, he would sooner throw deadly curses at her than associate with a Mudblood. Arrogant little Daddy's boy! It was proof of her desperation the thought had even crossed her mind. She'd do it alone but had yet to come up with anything of suitable poetic justice. It would simply have to wait.
Every weeknight, the charms study club met in one of the castle's old forgotten sitting rooms. It all began when a friendship was formed between three Ravenclaws and three Hufflepuffs in their third year. They despaired of comfortable places to socialize; in the library the quiet seeking vulture lurked; in the light of the Great Hall by houses they were classed; the fresh free air was cold in winter; and, the dark deep corners of the school were occupied by icky couples. By luck, Professor Flitwick overheard some of his favorite Charms students bemoaning their plight. He quickly proposed a club, a room and even offered to come up himself every once in awhile as a guest lecturer if they wanted to study some more obscure branches of charms. His offer had been taken up many times over the years. It was thanks to this that Eloise knew anything about spell modification and creation. The initial six members had remained faithful throughout the years and others were always welcome to come and go.
They were presently taking a break (procrastinating) from homework and talking of whatever inconsequential thing passed through their minds.
"Have you seen how much Sally-Ann Perks, Padma's friend, changed over the summer? It's the ugly duckling story come to life," commented Zacharias who was leisurely slouching in an armchair. "Seems half the school came back from vacation far prettier."
"And the other half came back looking worse than a squashed bullfrog. People seem to forget the other side of the story: the cute chick that turns into a turkey," said Eloise.
"Really," said Lisa sarcastically. "Why didn't they immortalize that story? It would go along the lines: Once upon a time, there was a beautiful fledgling, whom everybody loved because she was as cute as a button. But one day she grew and turned ugly and was very sad because no one loved her anymore. The end."
Eloise snorted, "You're right. It's hardly the happy ending."
"What do turkey chicks look like d'you think?" pondered Zacharias out of the blue. "Are they actually cute?"
"Dunno, never seen one," said Terry. "Baby things are always cute."
"Baby slugs aren't cute."
"That's all relative isn't it? They're certainly cutter than the big fat slugs."
"And baby slugs probably look cute to the other slugs."
"Why in Merlin's bloody name are we discussing the aesthetic qualities of young slugs?"
"Because it's not related in any way to the homework we are supposed to be completing."
"Right."
"Eloise, aren't you supposed to be heading off to Astronomy class?" reminded Lisa.
"Hummm. I do believe you're supposed to be there in two minutes," said Mandy with some amusement, looking at her watch.
"BLOODY HELL!" yelled Midgeon rocketing up from her relaxed position on the rug.
She hopped around on one foot pulling on her shoes, desperately looking around for her bag. "Professor Sinistra is going to KILL ME!!"
"AArgh!" she tripped and fell to the floor face first.
"You'll certainly make it to the tower on time lying down," teased Zacharias sardonically.
"Oh, go take a dip in the lake!" Eloise spat while running out the door, laughter echoing in her wake.
She finally burst in to Astromony class just as Sinistra was finishing role call. She lumbered over to her desk as well she could while heaving like a laboring gorilla. Heads turned her way, accompanied by cruel whispers and muffled giggles.
"What kind of an idiot has to repeat their Astronomy OWLs? She must be stupider than Longbottom."
"That would mean she got a T – Troll."
"Looks like one in any case."
"Heard her acne was so bad she tried to transfigure her face, but only ended up blasting off her nose."
"Shame she didn't blast off her entire face instead."
"What an ugly cow."
Fifth year Griffindors, she though wryly, nothing quite like them for subtlety of language and sensitivity of feeling.
"Miss Midgeon," stressed Professor Sinistra. "What fantastical excuse will you use this time to justify your lateness?"
Eloise looked up, her eyes wide and honest, a tad too honest if truth be told. "I'm terribly sorry Professor. I lost track of the time."
"Fifteen points from Hufflepuff for disrupting class," barked Sinistra.
Eloise bowed her head gravely. "A most just punishment Professor."
Though she incarnated the very paragon of politeness, there was nevertheless something ethereal in her manner, impossible to pinpoint, that hinted of mockery. Sinistra hated it, that hidden insolence, the promise of something else entirely once her back was turned.
Yet, as nothing had technically been done, Sinsitra merely twitched in response, as if restraining herself from some unspeakable deed, before turning on her heels and marching back up to the front of the class.
Miss Midgeon always arrived late, possessed an utter and complete lack of interest in the subject she taught, and whenever reprimanded was dismissively civil as if humoring a small child. Courteous to a fault, any reprisal would seem unwarranted. What? Send her to detention for being too well mannered? It was laughable.
Sinistra had desperately tried to persuade the OWLS committee to pass her most hated student. Praising, cajoling, appealing to their better feelings, begging, threatening had all failed before she had finally descended into a fit of hysterical rage and held the wizened old examiners at wandpoint. That had been the end of it and Headmaster Dumbledore had given her a rather stern lecture about the duties of a teacher as she wept in despair. Thus, Midgeon was back in her class.
She could feel her malicious eyes burn into the back of her head as she lectured. She continued, hesitating and stumbling over material she could have recited in her sleep forty summers ago. Finally she could stand it no more, she whisked around only to find that Midgeon was disrespectfully yawning and doodling in her notebook.
"Miss Midgeon!"
"Yes, Professor?" she replied pertly.
"What are you doing?"
"Taking notes Professor," said Midgeon aloofly raising her eyebrows by a mere fraction of an inch.
Again, that implicit sense of insult hung in the air between them. Sinistra strode over to her and ripped her notebook from her hand.
"These notes are insufficient!" she crowed in triumph. "You'll be having detention with Filch next week!"
Eloise watched in bafflement as Sinistra giddily ordered them to go out and observe the stars. Was it her imagination, or did the Professor's step have a definite waltzing quality? Did it really give her such pleasure to land one of her students in detention?
"You received detention from Sinistra again!" laughed Rebecca incredulously.
"Oh, shut it! She has it in for me I tell you!" said Eloise rather viciously stabbing her note paper with her quill, waiting for DADA to start.
"I'm actually surprised it took this bloody long for sparks to fly," added Mandy turning around in her seat.
Eloise gave her a look that would have reduced many a lesser demon to ash. Mandy merely smirked in reply.
"Now I've got detention with Filch," Eloise whined. "Anybody want to volunteer to take my place? We could fool them with polyjuice."
"No way! You're on your own for this one!" quickly interjected Rebecca.
"Such loyal friends I have!" she complained. "Sorting hat's a bloody liar. Loyal Hufflepuff, my arse!"
Unfortunately, Snape had just walked in and her last two words rang loudly in the ensuing silence.
"As interesting as your anatomy may be, Miss Midgeon, I have a class to teach. If you would permit?" said Professor Snape dryly.
Eloise embarrassedly nodded while trying to inconspicuously sink into the floor.
Snape began his lecture.
"I trust that by now you all understand the importance of not underestimating you opponents. Just as important, is knowing your own strength, your own limits. To these ends we will practice the Aperio Vis Vires spell today. Yes, miss Granger, I am perfectly aware that this spell is not on the curriculum. I am sure that your know-it-all self is capable of comprehending that it is nonetheless important. Copy down the instructions from the board and we will then have a class demonstration."
"The purpose of this spell is to measure your stores of magic. Point your wand at the middle of your left hand and pronounce the incantation. The color and intensity of the thread of light that will form indicates the strength of your magical reserves. In decreasing order, they will be white, silver, blue, green, red, pink, purple, brown; brown being a near squib. While this spell is useless in real battle or duel situations, it can be a helpful tool while training. It allows you to objectively evaluate which spells use up the least of your magical energy. Is that clear?"
The Professor swooped back and forth impatiently, waiting for the student to finish copying down the instructions. Finally, most of the class was done.
"Potter!" snarled Snape. "Kindly demonstrate."
Harry Potter shuffled up to the front of the class, he seemed to be mentally repeating the incantation.
"Aperio Vis Vires!"
A blinding silver light shot between his wand and his palm.
"Very well," grumbled Snape bad humouredly. "Stop showing off you arrogant fool."
They glared at each other before Potter made his way back to his seat.
Lisa Turpin, Ernie Macmillan and Lavender Brown were called up next. Theirs were of varying colors and intensities, with Lavender's the weakest at a pale mauve. Eloise noted that none of the Slytherins had been called up.
"Eloise Midgeon!" the Professor then snapped.
Eloise started, her hand jumping and marring her notes with ink. Snape had never called on her in class before. She lifted her head and stared him strait in the eyes. His face had solidified to a blank mask, gone were the usual signs of exasperated annoyance with which he usually regarded students. Her every instinct screamed to her to be on guard. This unexpected twist in the curriculum was obviously a plot of some sort. Though for the life of her, she couldn't figure out what. Was it simply a test of strength?
There was nothing for it, she had no choice but to follow through, or it would be deemed too suspicious. Eloise moved to the front of the room, her heart beating, palms sweating. She stared at the ground, her eyes flickering nervously back and forth from beneath her eyelashes.
Refusing to be intimidated, she took a steadying breath before uttering the spell in a clear steady voice.
At first, nothing happened. She thought she must have done the spell wrong. Then, a weak flickering brown light sluggishly wove its way from her wand to her palm. Eloise stared at it in horror - absolute silence had descended on the class.
It was impossible. She was Eloise Midgeon, recipient of four Os in major magical subjects on her OWLS. She could not be this weak. She was not this weak. Appearing this weak was a disaster. This one stupid spell could ruin her future career. This one stupid spell could place her in danger for the coming war.
"I think that will be all Miss Midgeon," said Snape softly with what may have been pity.
Eloise dazedly walked back to her desk. It was a bad dream, a nightmare. Surely she would soon wake up. Please let her soon wake up.
From the throng of students that suddenly seemed to swarm around her, choking her, mocking her, came the hiss: "Pathetic Mudblood."
Muahahahaaa… (evil writer laugh) Now Midgeon has something to prove!
Sorry for the incredibly long update. But well, summer weather, writer's block and all that. I'll try not to do it again.
Please review!
