Chapter 13

A Hundred Points

Perce had his feet transformed immobile. His grip on his wand slackened, as his mouth opened only to close again, and he gulped. Visible out of the corner of his eye was still on the floor the squirming mass of Drake in the ropes. A shiver ran up his spine. A mixture of the deepest awe, great fear, rapidly fading anger and true happiness clashed in the centre of his chest as he struggled not to shiver. Quite suddenly the night seemed to feel unbearably cold.

"He could have woken up the entire castle, if I'm not wrong," said Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor, I —"

"You have shown admirable magical ability for a first year. But that does not give you the privilege of breaking rules," the old wizard said. His voice did not betray any kind of anger, just pure, almost piercing calmness.

Perce nodded once, unsure of what to say. Professor Dumbledore gave a wave of his wand, and the rope binding the other first year shrunk faster than the leaves of a shameplant when touched, to lay back as the simple twig it was before. Drake had a ghastly white face, and his lips were curiously imitating that of a fish. Dumbledore moved one finger, and Drake went into a chain of incoherent speech.

"Professor — I — he — um — we were —"

"Having a friendly discussion?" Dumbledore finished helpfully.

That was enough to shut Drake's mouth. In the meanwhile, Perce was having a rush of confused thoughts in his head, debating with himself. Would they be expelled? Surely no, not for this. But what if he didn't know the rules clearly? They had broken at least ten. Probably many detentions, he just didn't hope he would have to be expelled. But what if he was? It would be so awful, he'd probably never show his face again. How stupid he had been! Of course Dumbledore knew about this! He had heard Drake scream! Why did he ever come? Now all he had to do was wait for those few words to escape the old man's lips.

"I shall be taking a hundred points from Slytherin. You would be wise not to argue," he added, as Drake opened his mouth again. Perce felt a sudden surge of insane dread, and ran his tongue over his dry lips, before he realised that Slytherin would still be on the top. He breathed a sigh part relief. "Both of you shall serve detention for two weeks with me." He finished.

Perce was torn between deep guilt and a curious sense of anticipation when he heard those words. He had, indeed, dreamed of having private sessions with Dumbledore — possibly for learning more advanced concepts — since the day he heard Dumbledore wouldn't be teaching first years. He longed to gain knowledge — it was an insatiable thirst — and he knew Dumbledore had reserves of knowledge possibly more vast than any wizard alive. It was ironic that his first session ever with Dumbledore would be detention.

"I did not stop you in the beginning for I was, undeniably, curious about what I might see. And the magic you two Slytherins have performed, especially Mr. Jordan, is well beyond the level of a first year."

Perce, though gratified, was still staring at the Deputy Headmaster cautiously. He couldn't figure out what he was driving at.

"And for that I award ten points each." Said Dumbledore, and Perce saw the tips of his white moustache twitch. "I would have appreciated it in a grander manner if it was not being performed against each other, at the hour of midnight, and on a tower normally forbidden to first years."

And this time there was a subtle twinkle in his blue eyes. Perce smiled faintly, understanding that they were dismissed for the night. Perce just caught a glimpse of Drake's dazed yet pleased face as the two headed towards the dungeons.

"A hundred times I've told you, yes!"

Those were the words that greeted him as he woke up.

"Good morning, sir." He heard Subash say.

"Detention with Dumbledore!" Said the voice of Hadner.

"Detention for Percival Jordan, the model student!" Said Roger dramatically.

"Slytherin's star first year loses a hundred points!" Recited Subash.

"Shhh!" Said Perce with an annoyed look, pulling himself into a sitting position, aided by his elbows. Somehow, he had subtle, uneasy pangs of guilt at their words. He had been utterly foolish.

"What? We're just quoting Hogwarts news. The Gryffindors are celebrating."

Perce could notice the sad smile on their faces, though they could veil the annoyance in their voices.

"I can't believe you really went, mate," Subash said. Perce let out an exasperated sigh.

"Well, I've got to get going now." Said Hadner. "Just wanted to tell you that the Slytherins aren't really happy. But I realised too late that there wasn't any need," he added, jerking his head at the other two, who grinned. Hadner gave Perce a small smile, a shrug, and left.

It wasn't after a very long time later that the reached the Slytherin common room. Naturally, he wasn't allowed to pass by without some attention. A succession of cold glares had few reassuring nods to intervene. Perce, however, simply walked past. There was, yet, a dull grip of guilt in his chest. He was met with a nasty smirk, saturated with malice, from Garold — he expected nothing less.

A corner chair was occupied by a slender figure. Susane Decarther had a hollow look, staring into the depths of nothingness. Her hands lay limp in her lap, and her blond hair was ruffled as her head rested on the seat.

"Susane?" Called Subash.

She turned sharply, and said:

"Oh — hello, Subash, and Perce."

"Mind if I sit?" Subash asked.

"Oh no, not at all."

She adjusted herself in a more comfortable position, and sighed. Perce, muttering something about Defence Against the Dark Arts assignments, left for the library. Subash noticed that Roger had detoured to meet Donald Canners.

"Someday I'm going to ask Sluggy to transfer that git Perce to Ravenclaw," he shook his head. "He spends more time in the library than almost all the Slytherins put together, and I feel like gouging his eyes out."

He was quite disappointed by the lack of response to his attempt at humour when she gave half a smile. He failed to understand what was passing through her mind.

"Err — Susane? What's up?" He added awkwardly.

"Oh it's — my uncle. He —" and she paused, and sighed again. Her voice very nearly broke.

"What — what happened to him?"

"He's dead. I got an owl last week." She said abruptly.

There was an extremely uncomfortable silence for a while at this sudden change of atmosphere. A single tear escaped her eye and rolled rapidly to drop to her lap, and her olive green eyes saw a blurry floor through the tears that threatened to fall.

Subash clearly wasn't expecting this, and he experienced a sudden hollowness in his chest. At the same time the words found him at a loss for a response. What was he supposed to say?

"I — I'm so sorry, I —"

"No it's — it's alright. We — we drew apart anyway, he and my family. He was extremely nice to me, always. He'd give me something every birthday and every Christmas —" she took a breath. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be troubling you with —"

"Oh no — err — not at all, don't say that. You're a friend." He smiled, having found something to say in his otherwise awkward situation.

She gave another sad smile. "The Dark Arts, that's what brought a strife between my father and he. He's my mother's only brother. He indulged in the Dark Arts. But he was good. Not like - like Grindelwald." She added, maybe a little to hastily, and stared at the floor. Subash opened his mouth to say something but failed dismally.

Then she added in a whisper. "He bought me my first wand..."

She gripped her wand tightly and closed her eyes. Another tear escaped, and she wiped it away. Subash shifted in his seat many a time in the silent minutes to come. Occasionally, he would open his mouth — but to no avail.

"He was murdered." She pronounced finally. Subash jumped partly due to what she said, but more because of the utter blandness of her tone. He stared for a while, baffled, his lips slightly parted.

"Merlin, I'm really very sorry —" he finally managed to blurt out. "That must be —"

He got no further. Susane nodded slowly. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Subash made a sudden motion, anticipating her possible fainting. Instead, Susane opened her eyes and smiled. It was a whole, genuine smile.

"You must think I'm the typical emotional girl. But I'm not. It takes a lot to make me cry," she said, and there wasn't a note of sadness in her voice anymore. Subash simply stared, unable to comprehend this person.

"I really loved him. He was like a second father to me. Some people think he was a bad man, but he wasn't. But I won't spend my time crying. He wouldn't like that, would he?" She said finally. Subash gave an uncertain murmur in the affirmative.

"And thank you for listening so patiently, I doubt a lot of people would do that." She added.

"Oh no don't thank me. You're my friend, of course — of course I'd help, even though I'm — err — terrible at it," Subash said, giving a nervous smile. She shook her head.

"See you later. My other friends will be looking for me," she said, and smiled widely. The two got up, and parted, mentally exploring ways to spend the Saturday.

Subash instinctively walked over to Roger, who was engaged with Donald Canners in a conversation. He was puzzled, for Subash found but one topic about which Roger might converse with the second year.

He discovered he conjectured rightly when he heard them:

"That was an absurd accusation! I was — bamboozled! I mean, why would he say —"

Roger retorted: "True enough. I'm sorry, I too thought you were but lying."

Donald waved away the apology right when Subash spoke:

"What's up?"

"We were talking about Drake accusing Donald, you know — the fire. The poor bloke was at dinner the whole time," he smiled at Donald. "Also, the whole thing is damned stupid: why would a second year be jealous of a first year?"

"Exactly! I feel insulted, the whole story is — I have no other word for it — lame!"

"Sounds like something Drake would cook up," Subash added, chuckling.

Donald, however, was still indignant. "I really want to know about the whole thing. I'm simply waiting until Slughorn just says it plainly — I'm tired of the stares and whispers that follow me."

"Merlin, that's awful."

Donald shook his head, and sighed. "Well I'd better be going. Daniel said he'd be waiting for me in the old Transfiguration classroom, we like doing our homework there." He smiled, and they bid their farewell.

Subash's thoughts were directed back to the conversation he had previously.

"Let's go to the library and drag the git out," suggested Subash, a suggestion taken in great spirit by Roger. They skipped nimbly out, and Subash began recounting his conversation with Susane to Roger.

Subash had his inner satisfaction when he saw that Roger too found it disturbing. Many words along those lines were exchanged, and it wasn't too soon that they reached the Hogwarts library.

"There he is," whispered Subash, pointing to the auburn hair quite visible. Malice and excitement building in them, and they temporarily forgot about Susane and her uncle as they walked up to him silently, and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned around, his eyebrows raised, and his face broke into a surprised grin.

"Am I seeing suddenly my friends turning into studious pupils? What brings you to the library on a Saturday?" He said in a low voice, chuckling.

"We are here to take you out." Said Roger simply, and Subash gave a wide smile, filled with playful sadism. Perce's face transformed magically into that of deep annoyance.

"No, not this again — let me be..." He moaned, turning to the book he was reading with enthusiasm. The other two had faces with identical malicious grins, as they wrenched the book out of his hand, ignoring his protests.

"Leave me alone —" he began, but he was cut off. No sooner did he begin the next sentence than he was dragged out.

"Today, my friend, is another day where we show you how a normal human spends a Saturday." Announced Subash once they were outside the dangerous environment of the library