Chapter Twenty-Two: Dumbledore

When the SSA gathered on Thursday night, the mood was less than excited. Richard slumped in a thick armchair despondently. "Well, I blew the chance to be a prefect. Wouldn't be so bad if somebody knew what we'd done, but all they keep going on about is Potter. The famous firstie that beat the Dark Lord again." He pounded the padded arm of the chair in frustration. "Snape's not telling anyone that we were out, so we don't lose any house points. Maybe it would be worth it for a little recognition."

"I'm sorry we weren't there," Vivian spoke up with a sigh. "We could have gone in after them."

"Or had enough people go to London so that we could have gotten Dumbledore's attention some other way." Daedalus added glumly.

Uther stood up suddenly and strode across the room to slap Richard on the shoulder. "What's the matter with the lot of you?" he exclaimed heartily. "We're heroes of the hour! Saved the firsties' lives! The Stone's safe and the Dark Lord vanquished. And if there's a price, well, gloria serpens with it. Who wants to be prefect anyhow?"

"He's right, old chap," Jerome spoke up hastily. "More trouble than it's worth."

"Anyhow, we can't tell anybody about the SSA, remember?" Melissa said reasonably. "It's all got to be secret, you know that."

Richard roused from his armchair. "All right, gloria serpens," he agreed half-heartedly. "But it would be nice if someone knew we'd done some good."

Behind them, the door creaked open and closed again. Mervin sat up in his seat as if electrified. "But we're all here," he blurted.

Through the jungle of vases and furniture came Albus Dumbledore, stooping to avoid hitting his head on a tall arching vase. He stepped over a little spittoon and into the midst of the SSA. He took a seat on one of the little couches.

No one said anything for quite a few minutes. Then Richard stammered, "Welcome to the Vase Room, sir."

"Thank you." Dumbledore gazed around the room appreciatively. "This is quite an arrangement you have here. But to business. I'm sure you're wondering what I've come here for."

The whole of the SSA nodded mutely.

"I had to stop by and tell you that I appreciate what you did yesterday. One of the other students sent me an owl, but if I hadn't been notified at the Ministry I may have arrived too late. Your quick action saved at least one life. Possibly many more."

Beth gave a tremulous grin.

"The Sorcerer's Stone will no longer be in danger of being used to restore Lord Voldemort." Daedalus jumped a little at the sound of the forbidden name, but he was the only one. "I see that you may have guessed that he was involved. That is the second reason why I have come. Lord Voldemort has been vanquished now, but his attempt at recovery proves that he will struggle to return to power -- and to gain revenge on the person who undid him twice. The times may be coming when every force must be called upon to combat the threat of evil. I ask for the loyalty of the Society."

Richard looked back at Riggs, whose lips were tightly pressed. He turned to Jerome, Daedalus and Vivian, Uther who stood behind him, and the third-years sitting cross-legged on the floor.

"You can count on us, sir."

Dumbledore smiles warmly. "I do not doubt that. Thank you again."

Richard cleared his throat hesitantly. "I know we're in the lead, sir, but I wonder if a few points for our House might not be in order?"

"Those who would act in secret must accept their rewards in secret," Dumbledore said, not unkindly. "People would ask where they came from, and that could only lead to exposure or lies."

He smiled. "I have, however, ordered up a Special Award for Services to the School, to be displayed here in your, er, headquarters. A small token in exchange for the lives of a few students."

Richard looked like he was trying to muster words of thanks, but couldn't.

Slapping his knees, Dumbledore stood up from the little divan. "Well! I have other little visits to make tonight, but I wanted to stop by for a bit. Carry on. As you might say, gloria Hogwarts!"

He started toward the door.

"Wait!" cried Richard suddenly. "One more thing, sir. Please -- what did you mean at the beginning of the year? Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak?"

Dumbledore turned around and smiled, and the wrinkles around his eyes deepened. "My dear boy," he said, in a voice of great seriousness, "who am I to deprive the Society of a mystery?"

Without another word, he strode out the door.

The SSA looked around at each other, speechless. Then Uther started to laugh.

"Recognition enough for you, Rich?"

Rich smiled and rubbed the healed scars on his arm. "Yeah. Just about."

***

The end-of-year feast was held that Tuesday. Once again, the girls' powder room was overtaken by primping, giggling girls. Beth escaped early and went down to the common room to wait for Melissa.

Aaron Pucey was there, looking more dapper than usual. "Hey Beth, heard the word on the street?" he asked cheerily.

"No, what?"

"Harry Potter woke up this morning. Too little too late, eh?" He gave a little derisive laugh. "After Ravenclaw stomped 'em at the match on Saturday. Wonder if he's heard about that yet?"

Aaron had been gloating about Slytherin winning the Quidditch Cup for three days.

"Who was that kid they got to replace him?" Beth asked. "They had to have a Seeker, you know."

"Some squidgy fellow named Melhorn."

"Galen is not squidgy!" Melissa stalked up to them, eyes flashing angrily. "He did a fine job. He can't help that he never practiced with the team."

"Or that he couldn't see the Snitch from five meters," Aaron snickered. "What, did you turn into some kind of Gryffindor-lover?"

Melissa flushed a brilliant red.

Beth gaped at her for a moment, then let out a howl of laughter. "Melissa! That reminds me! What were you doing in the Gryffindor common room the other day?!?"

If possible, Melissa blushed even deeper. "Hanging out with Galen," she admitted, in a shy voice. "We're sort of -- well, you know --"

"And you never told me!" Beth gasped through her laughter.

Aaron, confused, wandered away.

"Come on, we'll miss the feast," Melissa said crankily, grabbing Beth's arm. "I'll introduce you to him there. Don't laugh at him!"

"I p-promise," Beth giggled.

"And not a word about beating him at the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup!"

Bruce meandered up. "Not a word to who?"

Beth shrieked with laughter, and Melissa turned and stormed away.

***

The Great Hall was decked in Slytherin green, and silver serpents decorated the walls. Beth noticed, with some bitter humor, that the other houses looked a little disappointed to be surrounded by the colors of Slytherin.

"They can laugh at us all year," said Riggs viciously, "but it comes down to this." He clutched his magic pen in one hand. "They can't look down on us forever."

Richard sat beside him, with a thoughtful look on his face. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"You worry too, much old chap!" Uther boomed, giving Richard a hearty slap on the back. "We've got the Quidditch cup and our closest challenger for the House Cup is now in last place. Slyth-Quid does it again!" He slapped hands with Warrington and the two went to sit at the other end of the table with Marcus.

Melissa came up to where Beth and Bruce sat. She was hanging onto the arm of a short, muscular boy who looked dim but agreeable. "This is Galen Melhorn," she beamed, smiling up at him. "Galen, these are Beth and Bruce."

"Galen, eh?" said Bruce, getting a little grin on his face. "I saw you at the Ravenclaw game. Good show there."

Galen looked uncertain. "Thanks ..." He turned to Melissa and gave her a little peck on the cheek. "I'm going back to the table. Harry's not here yet, and we want to give him a cheer when he comes in."

Melissa watched him go with a blush. "Isn't he cute?" she smiled, sitting beside Beth and Bruce. Beth reassured her that he was. Bruce just snorted.

"'Harry's not here yet.' He wouldn't be coming to the feast at all if it wasn't for Beth."

"And Rich," she added, throwing up a spectacular blush.

Suddenly a hush fell on the Great Hall as Harry Potter came in. Then it burst into excited chattering. Potter, red-faced, rushed to Gryffindor table and sank down among some firsties.

Dumbledore came in just a few minutes later. He strode up to his position at the head table and stood there beaming out at the Great Hall until the chatter died out.

"Another year gone! And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were ... you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts ..."

"Won't take me that long," muttered Aaron cheerfully.

"Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two. "

There ensued great celebration from the Slytherin table -- clapping, whooping, goblet-banging noise. "Three in a row!" Melissa cried. "And four more on the way!"

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore went on. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The wild cheering faded away. "D'you think he means you going to London?" Bruce muttered to Beth.

"He said ... he wasn't going to take away any points for that." A sick sort of fear started to creep up Beth's throat.

"Ahem. I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes ... First -- to Mr. Ronald Weasley ... for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

A stunned silence fell over the Slytherins as a deafening cheer burst from the Gryffindor table. At the prefects table, Percy Weasley leaned over and started blathering to Jerome, who looked at him in baffled irritation. Riggs bent over his napkin and re-read the words that his magic pen was taking down, just to be sure he had really heard them.

"Second -- to Miss Hermione Granger ... for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

The Gryffindors were going out of their minds with excitement. Beth could see the Weasleys catcalling madly. It was a repulsive sight.

"Fifty!" Bruce sputtered. He had risen to his feet in outrage. Beth grabbed the back of his cloak and pulled him back down.

"Third -- to Mr. Harry Potter ..."

"No," moaned Richard, almost hiding his face in horror, "no, he's not going to ... he can't ..."

"... for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

Richard let out a long groan and buried his head in his hands.

Riggs had grabbed his pen and was scribbling madly in the margin of his napkin. "That's fifty -- fifty, that's a hundred -- hundred and sixty -- plus three twelve -- Good Lord we're tied with them!"

"But that's all that went into the trapdoor," Melissa said desperately. "That's all he can give. Isn't it? Isn't it?"

"Sure," Beth said shakily. "We'll just stay tied. He can't do any more."

"Wait," breathed Bruce.

Dumbledore had raised his hand for silence. Slowly the clamor faded.

"There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends."

"What's he talking about?" Beth hissed, but Melissa's face had assumed a look of horror.

"Longbottom."

At the front of the room, Dumbledore was smiling. "I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

There was an astounded shriek from the Slytherin table, which was completely drowned out by the explosion of applause from the rest of the Great Hall. "Look -- look at the Ravenclaws --" Riggs gasped, completely mortified. They were cheering as if they had won the cup themselves.

"And the Hufflepuffs," growled Bruce, on his feet again and glaring at the Hufflepuff table.

"Which means we need a little change of decoration," Dumbledore called over the noise.

"Not the decorations ..." moaned Richard, his voice muffled by his arms.

Dumbledore clapped once; the silver Slytherin snakes all became gold lions and the green shifted to scarlet. The wildly celebrating Gryffindors didn't even seem to notice.

Richard was banging his head against the table. "My first year as President ... total failure ... should have insisted ..." Beth patted his back reassuringly.

The first-years, having had only the briefest taste of victory, were completely floored by the change of events. "Can they do that?" Draco Malfoy was asking over and over, in a sort of dazed horror.

At the Head Table, Jerome Marx had also covered his head while the other prefects rejoiced around him. McGonagall had gotten up to shake Professor Snape's hand, and he was doing so with a very tense, fixed smile. Dumbledore merely sat back, looking pleased, and tapped on his plate until the end-of-year feast appeared.