Chapter 7: Revelations and Reflections
Junior's spirits were high after the victory over Ravenclaw. Gryffindor had placed second to Ravenclaw in the previous year, so it appeared that they were now the front-runners for the cup.
A few weeks into the school year, Junior was now quite comfortable at Hogwarts. Homesickness was never a big issue. He and his siblings wrote to each other often, and he had a few classes with his Dad and with his Mum every week.
In addition, Junior had great friendships at Hogwarts. Will, Jenny, and Charles were around him nearly all day, every day. They'd talk about Quidditch, which Charles was still trying to understand. Frequently, Junior, Will, and Jenny would all start to answer one of Charles' questions at exactly the same time.
***
Today was Friday, and so Junior and his friends were in especially high spirits--despite having to attend double-potions at 3 PM.
Herbology ended, and Junior and his friends made their way across the grounds and back towards the castle, chatting a mile a minute.
"Junior!" It was a male voice that Junior recognized.
Junior turned around with a smile. "Pallas! What's new?" The others turned around as well. Even Will didn't seem irritated.
Pallas looked exceedingly nervous. "Can I . . . walk back with you?"
"Sure," said Jenny.
Junior and ht others voiced their agreement, and Pallas joined them. Plans for the weekend was the topic of discussion.
Pallas had recently become a lot softer and more friendly and not just to him and his friends, but to everybody. Now, Pallas was nervous, when it always had appeared that Pallas oozed confidence. Junior suddenly felt inexplicably uncomfortable.
" . . . and so the second years and up are going to Hogsmeade," Junior caught Will say.
"What's Hogsmeade?" asked Charles.
"Until recently, it was the only all-wizarding community in England," Pallas said before anyone else could answer. There was no condescension in his voice.
"But . . . won't we lose that?" blurted out Charles. "I mean . . . I'm all for the conference . . . but it appears that with the merging of the two worlds, communities like that won't last."
"No," blurted out Jenny. Junior and the others turned to look at her. "The might still exist," she continued. "And in the future they won't have anything to hide."
Once again, Jenny had the strongest argument. Junior turned his eyes back tot he castle, which they had nearly reached, and then back to the others.
Junior watched them, and then he instantly saw why Pallas was so nervous and yet so excited. Pallas was staring at Jenny with the gentlest of expressions.
***
Potions class was tolerable. Pallas was second to Jenny in completing the potion, but Jenny had learned not to say anything and just let Pallas have the points. As Pallas left, he flashed a smile at Junior's group. They found him waiting outside in the hall for them when they finally left the room.
Junior and his friends felt like enjoying an early dinner. Pallas declined the invitation, saying he had already committed to a later dinner. He walked with them towards the Great hall.
"Junior," said Pallas tentatively as they approached the Hall's entrance.
"Yes?" said Junior.
"Could I . . . speak to you for a second?"
Junior looked at the others, and they had no objections. He told them he'd meet them in a bit, and then stayed behind for Palls.
"Junior," began Pallas. "I . . . should just be out with it. I really like Jenny." Pallas looked up at Junior. "Do you . . . .like her too?"
"Not in the same way," Junior said.
"Okay," said Pallas. "Well, based on a few signals, I think she likes me too." Pallas smiled, but Junior suddenly felt a strange, numbing feeling in the pit of his stomach. "The problem," Pallas continued, "is that I mentioned this in a letter to my mother and . . . she doesn't approve. You know, Jenny's parents and the Ministry are the enemy. And this seems like a really bad time to upset her. You know, her being recently . . . widowed and all." Pallas looked torn between anger and pity.
Junior didn't know what to say. Now he knew that his theory was true, and it explained the new, friendlier Pallas. Pallas had been treating Jenny especially kindly over the last several days, being terribly interested in her without ever prying. "But I thought," began Junior. "I thought that you were also against Minister Weasley's efforts."
Pallas was visibly taken aback. "Junior," he said. "I . . . don't know what I believe. I know what my mother believes, and you can't blame me for not wanting to upset her. But I wasn't just humoring her; I have my doubts about the process. But Jenny is . . . wonderful. She's a light. If Mr. and Mrs. Weasley raised her, then they can't be so bad. But, you do see my problem?"
"Well," said Junior uncertainly. "You could try to reason with her . . ."
Pallas chuckled bitterly. "My mother isn't like yours. Your mother loves to be a mother. She took the job last year so someone could replace McGonagall, right?"
Junior nodded. He could see where this was going.
"And your mother will go back to writing at home when they find someone to replace her, right?" continued Pallas.
Junior nodded again.
"My mother," Pallas continued, "I think she works so much partly to avoid me and her maternal responsibility. Money is not an issue, of course. She doesn't have the patience to listen to me reason with her."
"Pallas," began Junior, desperately wanting to wrap this up. "you're only 11. Maybe you should forget about any romantic feelings for Jen. There's plenty of girls out there."
"None of them are like Jenny," said Pallas sadly. He looked at his watch. "I'm sorry for taking so much of your time. Thanks, and enjoy your dinner." Junior nodded, and Pallas walked off with his head down.
Junior watched Pallas leave, and then he was overcome with a barrage of conflicting emotions. After regaining control of himself, he entered the Great Hall to find his friends.
***
Among Junior's emotions, pity ultimately won. Why did Pallas confide in him? Maybe Pallas was afraid of Will's reaction. Will did tend to protect Jenny a little too much sometimes, and Pallas wasn't exactly Will's favorite person.
Also, Jenny was Junior's friend. And if she would be happy with Pallas, then . . . well, how could she be happy with Pallas? The kid was driven, humorless, and constantly serious. Or . . . had he changed? Well . . . yes, he had. In that case, Junior would keep Pallas' secret and try to help his friend out.
***
At practice that night, Junior found keeping quiet more difficult than he had anticipated. Perhaps he wanted to know exactly how Jenny felt, or perhaps not. Why should he care? After all, he told the truth when he told Pallas that he only liked her as a friend.
***
After practice and quite a bit of Friday night socializing, Junior and his friends finally went to sleep.
Late the next morning, they forced themselves to get to breakfast on time--if only to get the mail as soon as possible.
***
During breakfast, Pallas walked over to them.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked glumly.
"Sure," said Junior, and Pallas took the empty seat next to Junior.
"Hey Pallas," said Jenny, but her eyes were on the Daily Prophet. Suddenly, she looked up. "You guys won't believe this," she breathed.
"What is it?" asked Will.
"Here," said Jenny solemnly, and then she passed the paper to Will.
Will read it aloud:
Ministry Thwarts Attempted Terrorist Attack
Around 12:00 AM this morning, a group of ten Muggles who identify themselves only as the Truth were captured before initiating an armed attack on the Ministry itself. The Truth were armed with rifles, a type of gun, and were approaching from the back. Minister of Justice Clark's division, acting on an anonymous tip, were waiting when the terrorists arrived. Only a few stunning spells were required, and the terrorists did not fire a shot. The terrorists say the attack was an attempted raid, in which they would "show everybody what the Ministry was actually planning and what they are capable of." If the Ministry had not been prepared, then the attack could have had disastrous consequences. The captured terrorists are currently being questioned at the Ministry.
"An attack on the Ministry?" asked Charles incredulously. "That doesn't sound very smart."
"No," said Will. "One experienced wizard could easily handle ten Muggles with rifles--given that he was prepared."
Did Will know what he was saying--and who was here? Apparently not. Junior's jaw dropped.
"Excuse me," said Pallas, and he began to leave, his breakfast mostly unfinished.
"Pallas, wait!" exclaimed Junior as he got up quickly. He gave Will a look that said, Will, you blockhead. Suddenly, Will looked as if he realized what he had said. It took him long enough.
Junior put a hand on Pallas' shoulder. "Will didn't know what he was saying, Pallas, honestly he didn't."
Pallas continued to look away, but he nodded. "It's okay," he said without much vigor.
"I'm sorry," said Will solemnly. "I really am. That kind of thing just shouldn't be talked about."
Suddenly, an alarming thought crept into Junior's head--an overwhelming thought. Will's words swam around in Junior's brain, and he tried to contain his excitement.
"Everybody meet me outside the transfig classroom at 7 PM--tonight," said Junior loud enough for only them to hear.
There were looks of confusion, but nobody questioned the order.
***
Pallas and the Gryffindors ended up eating dinner at roughly the same time. Pallas talked with two people at the Slytherin table who appeared to be acquaintances of his--a boy and a girl of roughly thirteen years of age. Pallas' eyes kept darting back to Junior's table, but was it to communicate his presence or to steal glances at Jenny?
They met at the entrance of the Great Hall after dinner.
"Right, follow me," said Junior to them, and they headed towards the transfig classroom.
"What exactly are you thinking?" asked Jenny.
"Remember the mirror?" asked Junior.
All the others said yes, except for Pallas.
Junior sighed, and then explained the entire incident along the way.
"All right," said Pallas slowly. "So that's how you learned you spoke Parselmouth. Us other students never really figured that out."
Jenny suddenly stared at Junior with mouth agape. "Are you saying . . . the unspeakable act--"
"--yes, he is," said Will. "Let's get to that later, okay?"
They continued in silence toward the classroom.
***
The painting was there as expected, and the riddle was the same.
Junior hissed the answer, and they all descended the stairs and made their way to the mirror. Junior placed his hand in the imprint to open the lock, but this time he had a band-aid to cover the wound.
"Mirror," said Junior.
"Greetings, dual heir," bellowed the mirror.
Pallas looked startled by the volume of its voice.
Junior looked at Will, Jenny, and Charles sternly, and they gravitated toward Pallas. Okay, this had better work . . .
"Richard Moore," said Junior.
There was a flash of light from the mirror, and then the lush interior of a room showed in the glass. Then he saw Pallas sitting on a brown, leather couch, and then a thin woman in her thirties who must be Mrs. Karen Moore. Junior was looking through the eyes of Richard Moore in the Moores' living room.
"I don't think the Muggles really care about peace," said Mrs. Moore. "Look at their guns, their constant wars, and their environmental destruction in the name of money. Then there's the Salem Witch trials, and who knows how many other instances of the persecution of wizards and witches in history . . . "
Pallas started to say something. All he had to say was that we wizards have the same things--our own prejudices, discrimination . . . But Pallas said nothing, as if a dissenting opinion would not be appreciated. Instead, he looked at an unseen object, as if he was staring out the mirror. Junior could tell that Pallas must have been looking at his father. "Father," said the Pallas in the reflection. "You look troubled."
"Yes, well, there's something I've discovered about the Ministry . . . " Suddenly, Mr. Moore's eyes fixed on a window. Some shapes approached the house.
Moore stood up suddenly. "Get . . . get out of here!" he exclaimed desperately. They looked up at him with stunned expressions. "That's an order! Go!"
"Richard--" began Mrs. Moore, but then she took a resisting Pallas with her out of the room. A door slammed from that direction a moment later.
Suddenly, it sounded as if the front door had burst open, and then several men shrouded in cloaks entered the room. Most unusually, there were two men with blank expressions, Muggle clothes, and . . . shotguns? Mr. Moore stared at them, probably frozen in fear. After a total of eight men had entered, a tall man entered regally; he was probably the leader.
The leader pulled back his pitch-black cloak to reveal a face just recognizable to Junior . . . the face of Minister David Clark.
"Richard," said Clark.
"David," said Mr. Moore threateningly. "Looks like you've brought your fellow followers with you."
"Ah, I'd figured you found out about our little . . . secret society," said Clark with a wicked smile. "This will be an example of 'killing two birds with one stone', then." Clark's cloaked associates snickered.
"What are the Muggles doing here?" demanded Mr. Moore. The two Muggles continued to look oblivious to everything.
Clark glanced at them. "Two Muggles who hate wizards. They're members of some hate group--you should see the propaganda in their houses--but without any violent history. That is, until I order them, in their current Imperius Cursed state, to kill you."
"So then you and the other who-knows-how-many followers in the Ministry can frame my death on Muggles, which will incite those opposed to the conference--the Separatists."
"Naturally."
"Possibly leading to more widespread anti-Ministry sentiment, then the resignation of your unknowing enemy Weasley, and finally your rise to the position of Minister of Magic. How petty."
"Petty?" spat Clark. "It's not for me, but for the One I serve. I will appear to take over where Weasley leaves off, and bide my time. Did you know that only the Minister of Magic is authorized to use a special magical object--the Rune of Wisdom? It gives wise counsel to the owner. On the night of September 22nd--the autumnal equinox--I will take it to my Master. He will be waiting in an open field, and we will use an ancient spell to transform the Rune of Wisdom into its hidden self--the Rune of Shadow. At midnight, the Rune of Shadow will release its energy, and then we shall see the rise of the Lord of Night and Day, the future sovereign over all creatures, Daius Nightfall."
"Nightfall?" echoed Mr. Moore uncertainly.
"Yes, he will become sovereign over the wizards, and he will lead us as in crushing the inferior Muggles. The cowards and dissenters will be put to death." Clark looked at the others with a wicked smile, and they nodded back at him. "Now, it's time for you to die, Richard."
Mr. Moore had already quickly pointed his wand towards Clark. "Expelliar--"
Two simultaneous shotgun blasts sounded, and instantly the mirror went black.
***
Junior frantically tried to put the pieces together. The Muggles killed Moore under Clark's Imperio. Clark wants to become the Minister of Magic so that . . .
"Junior, what did you see?" Charles asked, interrupting Junior's train of thought.
"Excuse me?" said Junior uncertainly. Then something hit him. Oh please, let it not be true . . .
"We couldn't see anything," clarified Jenny. "We could only hear. So who's David?"
"Minister David Clark," said Junior.
Everybody else gasped simultaneously.
Jenny broke the silence. "No . . . it can't be . . . my father can't have anything to do with it . . . "
"No," said Will. "Your Dad's 'the unknowing enemy' of Clark--Mr. Moore said so."
He and the other Gryffindors suddenly looked at Pallas. His face was like steel, but he must have been feeling intensely emotional.
"The Muggles," said Pallas. "Do you know what the Muggles who were convicted look like?"
"Not exactly . . . " said Junior.
"I know every single feature. Now, tell me every detail you remember of the ones you saw, while it's still fresh in your mind."
Junior wasn't surprised that Pallas had learned so much about the people who, he had thought, had killed his father. Junior mentioned all that he knew.
"It's a perfect match," said Pallas, whose stoic expression surely hid both excitement and pain.
"Let's get out of here," said Charles.
Junior kept sorting and re-sorting the mirror's information as they walked--in an effort to keep his facts straight.
A loud, yet somewhat familiar sound stopped them in their tracks. It sounded as if it had come from a spot between their current location and the steps that led to the painting.
"Only the Dual Heir may witness," threatened a scratchy voice. It sounded like the voice of an unseen Mupa.
"W- . . . we didn't see anything!" exclaimed Will.
"But you heard," said the creature.
The floor shook somewhat, and loud footsteps were heard. The creature stepped into the light, baring its teeth. It was like a Mupa, only wingless, and fifty times larger.
"The others may pass," it continued. "If they prove themselves first."
Junior wasn't in the mood for this. A quick glance at the others told him that they all felt the same way. "On the count of three," said Junior as he raised his wand. The creature stared at them quizzically. "One . . . two . . . three!"
"PETRIFICUS!" they all exclaimed simultaneously. A tremendous boom reverberated around the room, and five beams of light hit the creature at once. It turned into stone.
Junior mentally thanked his Dad.
"Run!" shouted Will, but they had all already begun to do so.
"Someone reanimate it," commanded Jenny uncertainly as they ran past it.
"No way," said Will. They all reached the top of the stairs and then pushed the painting open.
***
--May 20, 2001. Philip "Pottermaniac" Gonzales.
