September 14, Late Morning, Early Afternoon
"Under normal circumstances, Owen Dugh, you would face possible expulsion from this school for such an unprovoked assault. Even under the current circumstances, you will have to face some punishment."
"I'm sorry, Albus," I said, "it was just that I saw him standing there of a sudden, I didn't think."
"I understand, but if you noticed, Gregory appears to have no knowledge of what happened to you, outside of what he, and everyone else, had been told. It may very well be that he is telling the truth. As confusing as this situation is, he has never shown any sign of being other than he is. The incident you related is the only one, and that occurred when you touched his instrument case. It appears that we are dealing with a third problem. That case of his is obviously the key."
Albus sat there, tapping his fingers. I sat there waiting for him to decide what to do. After a few minutes of silence, he dropped the axe. "It is rather simple, Owen," he said, finally, "I have to punish you for what you did, if only to keep suspicion away. Also, I have to think of your education as well. Therefore, you will have a detention on each school night, with a different teacher, to see how far behind you are in their respective classes. The exception will be Rubeus Hagrid. You can go to him after you leave here and ask him if he wants you to help him today or tomorrow, or both days. Also, Owen, if any teacher feels you have fallen too far behind, they are free to call you back for an additional night."
I groaned aloud. I would be kept busy night and day for the next two weeks. "I can make it right, Sir, I know how," I told Dumbledore. At his curious look, I continued, "It's obvious, really. I'll have to apologize to the Tinker, and it will have to be in public. The hard part will be getting him to believe me, as I won't be believing it me self. I still think it's him that did it."
"Before you leave, Owen, I have one more question. How do you feel?"
"I feel fine, Albus. Why do you ask?"
"You have been through a lot, these past two weeks," Albus said thinly. "You appear to have returned to normal more quickly than I had expected. Much more quickly."
I was excused and told to make my way to Hagrid's Hut. As I left Dumbledore's office, I saw the Tinker blocking my way. In his hand was my bodhran. Fiona and Mary were with him, as well.
"I know you think I hurt you," the Tinker said, "but I wanted to prove to you I'm not like that." He held out the bodhran, saying, "We found it outside, below the Perch."
"I'm sorry," I stammered, as sudden doubt hit me. "Ye were the last person I remembered seeing before what happened. Comhanaich Gael, Tinker, when I saw ye of a sudden like that, I did na' think." I paused and added, "If ye'll excuse me, I have to see Hagrid."
"Are you being expelled?" The Tinker asked me.
"I am not being expelled," I said, "As a reward for me brave actions, I am being given additional responsibilities, for as long as any teacher feels like it. I've got to ask Hagrid what he wants me to do."
Somewhere in those few lines our attitudes changed. We were friends again. At least we were pretending to be friends. One part of me said I was wrong about him, but the other part told me that paranoia was a means of survival. What the Tinker thought, I will never know, but I did not expect what happened.
"Would you like company?" the Tinker asked, a smile creeping into his face.
"Are ye sure ye want to come, I mean, after what I did?"
"Yeah," he said, "Madam Pomfrey fixed my nose, and even cleaned my robes. After what I heard....It was nothing, I should have ducked." He laughed and held out his hand for me to shake. As simple as that, we were friends again. I could not believe that such a gesture was an act.
He handed me the bodhran and my stick and I began drumming, to make sure the instrument was fine. I looked over at Fiona who was muttering about boys.
" What a fynn buachail (1) Gregory is. An hour ago he's beaten for no reason, and now he's running off to play with Diabhal Dugh (2)
."
Mary's reply was to smirk and roll her eyes.
We were a sight, the Tinker and I, walking through the school as though nothing had happened. The other students simply stared at us. While I was cursed, they were afraid to say my name. Now it would be on everyone's lips. And the Tinker had, with a few words, healed the hatred that simmered in me for most of a fortnight. I shuddered as he pulled out the box, but relaxed again after he started playing his pennywhistle. I would deal with that secret at a later time.
"This is in your honor, Owen," he said, "for all the late night tasks ahead of you." He began playing Finnigan's Wake.
As we approached Hagrid, the Tinker pointed to where his brother and Hermione were playing with the three-headed dog.
"Is that Fluffy?" the Tinker asked.
"In all his glory," I answered, "and that's Hermione, she's trying to teach him to do tricks."
"That sounds great," he said, nodding his head at the thought, "and who's that boy with them?"
Alarm bells went off in my head. Ginny had told me of the events on the train and how he first told her about his brother. Arthur Weasley told him his brother was safe, and he was grateful. And now he didn't know his brother. In the back of my mind, I remembered Fiona telling him he didn't have a family. It seemed oddly important.
"That's Timothy, He's Hagrid's foster son," I answered carefully.
"Like me?" the Tinker asked.
"Like ye, that makes him your brother, in a way."
"I've never had a brother before. "What's he like?"
"Hermione calls him the world's smallest monster. That means he's six."
I was eyeing my friend carefully. He honestly did not remember Timothy. And he probably did not remember what happened to me that night. Maybe, I thought, what happened that night, when I touched the box, was just a reflex. After all, whatever did those things to me could have as easily killed me. I also thought about the report that said the original Gregory Wyatt died at the age of nine. The Tinker claims to be eleven, but he did not show it. He acted more like Timothy trying to be a big boy. Then I thought the impossible. The Tinker did not remember his brother because of what Fiona said. I thought back to my Da who told me, "Music calls to music," He liked me because of the music, it made us equal. Thus a kind word made up for my cruel blows. But It was Fiona's Da who convinced me of what to do. As he had said to Fiona, "Friends must be invited in."
"Tinker, me lad," I said, "For all tha' as happened between us, I'd like to ask ye a favor."
"Ask," he said simply.
"Will ye be me friend, and regardless of what may come between us, will ye stay me friend?"
I watched the various expressions that played on his face, amusement, embarrassment and, to my surprise, relief. "Of course," he said, "but you have to answer a question for me."
"Ask away, Tinker, me lad," I said with a grin.
"Why do you call me Tinker?"
"That's what I thought ye were when I first saw ye."
"But why don't you use my name?"
"Because ye've never told me your name."
"You know my name. You've heard people call me Gregory hundreds of times already."
"Aye, lad, I have. But, YOU, me fynn Tinker, have never told me your name."
The Tinker looked at me, not knowing whether to smile or frown at my obstinate answer. He shrugged his shoulders, brandishing a thoughtful smile, and we began walking.
He never told me his name.
We walked over, and I introduced Hermione to the Tinker. We spent some time explaining what happened. She thought it wonderful how quickly we resolved our differences.
Then I noticed Timothy was not around. Hermione saw me looking around, and laughed.
"We're playing fetch again. Here, both of you watch Fluffy." She then called to Fluffy the way our neighbor back home talked to her lap dog, except louder.
"Fluffy, Where's Timmy?" The dog's ears (all six of them) stood up, and he began sniffing around, then started barking. Meanwhile Hermione is still asking the dog "Where's Timmy, Wheeeerrree's Timmy?"
By now Fluffy is excited and jumping up and down, making the ground shake slightly. The Tinker is staring, his face pale, watching the one dog that could intimidate an elephant. I wanted to see his face for what was about to happen, but I was too curious to do more than give him an occasional glance.
"Fetch Timmy, Fluffy, Fetch Timmy," Hermione shouted. The dog took off as though he was chasing a rabbit. Looking ahead of him, I could see Timothy almost to the top of a low hill, perhaps a half kilometer away. It was exactly as Hagrid had described it. Fluffy scooped the boy up off his feet and flung him into the air, catching him in one mouth, than another, as he ran back to the hut. When he returned, Fluffy placed Timothy down, feet first, and backed off. The drool-covered boy was laughing as hard as he could, asking if he could do it again. I was speechless. I glanced at the Tinker, who stood slack-jawed.
Hagrid showed himself at that point, and told Timothy that it was time for his bath and nap. Hermione excused herself and led the whining boy inside. I explained to Hagrid why I was there, the Tinker confirming my story about what I did.
"Well, I can use yer help for a little bit," Hagrid said, with a smile that made me cringe. "Fluffy still needs some exercise, so loosen yer feet up and go out for a run." Then he nodded to let me know he was serious.
"Excuse me, Sir," I croaked, "could I use the facilities, first."
When I finished my business, Hagrid took me over to Fluffy to let the dog sniff me, "That way he'll have yer scent." Then he told me to run hard, so Fluffy will be interested, "Owen, I'll send Fluffy to fetch you back when yer at the spot where he caught Timmy. Now, RUN!"
I ran as fast as I could, not knowing what else to do. I could see other students watching me as I headed toward the hill. As I reached the crest, I heard the Fluffy begin to bark. The barking became louder, and I ran even faster than I thought possible.
Suddenly, everything around me became black and wet. I felt my feet leave the ground, and then I was in the open air screaming. I saw the dog below me as I fell back downward, its central mouth wide open. At the last second, another head grabbed me, spun me around, and threw me back in the air. Down again, I fell, to be grabbed, spun and flung back into the air.
It was the third time this happened that I noticed that my movement was very fluid, almost like an aerial dance. It was not the jerk and twist I had expected. The next time I was flung upwards I let out a loud whoop. I couldn't do anything about Fluffy's breath or his drool, but it was almost worth it. All too quickly, I was caught one last time, and placed on my feet, dizzy and wet, laughing at the great ride. Hagrid was laughing along with me while the Tinker stared at us like we were both mad.
Hermione came out of the hut, saying "Timmy barely made it to the bed. Hagrid, you should have some peace for about two hours." Looking at me she said, "Enjoy the game?"
"It was great fun, Hermione," I said, breathlessly, "now that it's over."
Hagrid turned to Gregory. "Its yer turn, Gregory, If yer wants, that is."
The Tinker agreed after some coaxing, and as I had, began emptying his pockets. When he pulled out the box, he faltered. I had the feeling that he was torn about what to do. He wanted to see what it was like to be fetched. On the other hand, he didn't want to let go of the box.
Hermione held out her hand to take the box, saying, "I'll hold it for you, Gregory."
"No, " the Tinker and I cried out together. I looked at the Tinker and saw something cross his face. It made me dare to take a chance.
"If ye let me," I told the Tinker slowly, "I will hold the box for ye until you return. I promise I will return it to ye." I held both hands together, palms up, and waited. Hagrid watched with understanding, but Hermione's look was a questioning one. She knew something was happening, and my guess was that she would figure it out. I decided to help everyone out by saying, "I know about the curse."
Again, something passed over the Tinker's face. He smiled, and carefully placed the box in my hands. I could fell something, like the box was alive, but not quite aware. It seemed to me, to put it in human terms, that the box was sleeping. The Tinker's face, on the other hand, was fully awake. Freed from the dilemma of the box, he was ready to give it a try. Fluffy sniffed at him the same way I had been sniffed. Then the Tinker began running with all his might. In no time at all he was chased and caught and flung around, to end up on his feet, laughing as loudly as I had. "That was great," he shouted, adding, "you smell terrible."
"That's not me ye smell," I told him. "Then I sniffed my arm, and added, "but ye're right about smelling terrible."
I carefully gave him back the box, which he seemed almost reluctant to take. That done, he quickly returned to his happier mood. Then Hagrid excused us for the day, telling me he had some real work for the next day.
The Tinker and I walked back to the school, not saying anything. Occassionally, we would look at each other and laugh. Despite all that happened, I felt on
top of the world. I also discovered one important thing. The Tinker was not a monster, he was a boy just trying to fit in, even if he was no ordinary boy.
1. Fynn buachail (Fine BOOWK-ul) Meaning: Fine Boy
2. Diabhal Dugh (DEH-vul due) Meaning: Black Devil (as opposed to Owen Dugh)
