Disclaimer: I only own Hex, Maeve, Peter and Norman. JK Rowling owns Hogwarts and everyone else inside. The title of this chapter was ripped off a play we took up in freshman English entitled Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All For You. I'm afraid I've forgotten who wrote it (I studied it six years ago, after all) but I didn't.
Technical Notes: The description about the school nurse came from my high school yearbook. I'm not saying all nurses are like that.
Introductory Remarks: This chapter includes the requisite hospital wing scene with Professor Dumbledore. I hope it ties up all the loose ends.
Professor Albus Dumbledore Explains It All For You
The next time Hex opened his eyes, everything was white. He blinked, and when everything came into focus, he realized he was in the Hogwarts hospital wing. And it was morning.
Hex sat up, ignoring the soreness in his abdomen. How many days had he been here? What happened to Maeve and Peter?
He looked around wildly and sighed in relief, bringing on a twinge from his tender ribs, when he saw that they were occupying the beds on either side of him. To Hex's left, Peter lay on his back, breathing easily. He looked uninjured save for a few scratches, bruises and a nasty bump on his head. On Hex's right, Maeve lay on her side, facing him. The crystal drops in the hollow between her eye and nose made her look as if she had been crying in her sleep.
Hex reached over to try and wipe them away, but a soft footstep sent him scooting back down in bed. Unlike the school nurse back in Brooklyn, who refused to believe you were sick until you threw up on her, Madam Pomfrey refused to believe you were well until you threatened to take a flame-thrower to the hospital wing if she didn't let you out.
However, the newcomer was not Madam Pomfrey, making her rounds, but Professor Dumbledore. He smiled when he saw Hex. "Ah, Mr. Holmstrom. Good to see you're awake at last." He pulled up a chair and sat at Hex's bedside. "Your friends were beginning to worry."
"How long have I been here, Professor?" Hex asked. His voice was weak and rather raspy. When the Headmaster offered him a glass of water, he gulped it down gratefully.
"The three of you were brought in about two days ago. Mr. Brandegoris and Miss Moondaughter have woken up a few times since then, but never at the same time." Dumbledore chuckled quietly. "Madam Pomfrey wasn't very happy at answering the same questions twice."
"Are they both OK?" He looked with some concern at Maeve, who was as pale as the sheets on which she lay.
"Yes, Mr. Holmstrom, they are both fine. Mr. Brandegoris sustained a few injuries from his encounter with Lestrange's minions, but nothing life-threatening."
"He turned himself into a bear and held them off so I could go after Maeve."
"A bear?" Dumbledore looked pleased. "How fitting. Peter has been showing signs of becoming an Animagus for quite a while now, but refused to take lessons from Professor McGonagall." He looked thoughtfully at the big boy. "Peter always was a quiet boy and I suppose he did not want to stand out by having such talents. I'm glad he has decided to use them."
Suddenly, Hex remembered something. "Professor, Mr. Filch—"
"—is all right."
"He wanted to kill us!"
"Argus was acting on Lestrange's orders. When Lestrange died, his hold on Mr. Filch's mind was broken."
Hex felt ill as he remembered falling into the ravine, looking up at Maeve's face. He had not seen where Lestrange had fallen. "So Lestrange is dead?"
"One can only speculate," the headmaster told him. "We were unable to see the bottom of that fissure or if, indeed, it had a bottom."
He shuddered. That could have been him. "How did you get me out?"
"We were lucky. You had fallen on a ledge of some sort only partway down. Miss Moondaughter was trying to levitate you out when I arrived. She is unhurt — physically, at least." Dumbledore looked grave. "But she experienced a lot of stress that night, meeting her father, watching you fight him, fearing you were dead. I am sure you know that it is the psychological scars that heal the slowest."
"You know Lestrange is Maeve's dad?"
"I had suspicions. They do look remarkably alike, of course, and Miss Moondaughter exhibits the same ability to charm others into going her way."
"So what does that mean?"
"Why, nothing. They have the same abilities, that is all."
"Maeve wouldn't admit that Lestrange was her dad. She just said he sired her."
"So he must have. However, that does not make him her father. A bond between a man and his child must be deeper than blood for him to become a father, you know."
"No, I don't." He had had no such bond with any of his foster parents. In fact, he'd never had such a bond with any of the adults he knew…except maybe Tiny. Did Tiny count? Hex fidgeted with his blankets as the headmaster continued to smile benignly at him. "Professor…Lestrange tried to make me tell him my real name. He tried really hard to get it out of me."
"Did you tell him?"
"No. What I want to know is, why did he want to know it so badly?"
"I already told you on your first visit here, Mr. Holmstrom. Knowledge of your real name would have given him power over you. Selenius Lestrange is one of the very few who can bend people to their will using only the knowledge of one's real name. Perhaps he had some siren blood in him, but so little is known about sirens that I am not too sure. It would make an interesting course of study, would it not?" Dumbledore smiled. "I expect it really annoyed Lestrange to have to use the Imperius Curse on you."
"So he was able to control Filch, and Maeve, and all those other people, because he knew their names?"
"Almost, but not quite. He does not need to know it personally. The name only needs to be said."
"And since my name was never said in the magical world, he had no power over me?"
"That is correct. If he had power over you, then he would have been able to control you as he had Mr. Filch. And Miss Moondaughter would not have had the strength to resist him later on."
A new thought occurred to Hex. "Professor, if Lestrange didn't have power over me because he didn't know my name, how come Maeve did? She was helping me resist Lestrange while I was under Imperius. But I never told anyone what my real name was."
Dumbledore smiled. "I expect Miss Moondaughter exerts another kind of power over you, Mr. Holmstrom." He paused to admire the vase of deep violet irises at Maeve's bedside, a present that could only have come from Professor Sprout. "She is a very beautiful young lady, after all — both inside and out." He chuckled as a dull flush stole over Hex's cheeks. "Well, I believe I shall leave you with that very interesting thought—"
"Wait, Professor," the boy said before Dumbledore could get up. "One more thing. Hagrid told me the whole thing about hiding my name was a new policy of yours. Does that mean all the Muggle-borns in Hogwarts had to change their names, too?"
"Only the first years who entered this year, besides yourself. I'm afraid it was too late for those already in Hogwarts."
"Why did you make us hide our names? You couldn't have known Lestrange was coming."
"Indeed I did not," the headmaster admitted. "But, with Lord Voldemort on the rise, it was one way to protect the Muggle-born from Death Eaters who could be searching for their families. I doubt if Lestrange would have tried to recruit Muggle-borns for the Death Eaters, but he could have manipulated them to his advantage nevertheless." Dumbledore smiled. "Is there anything else you wish to know?"
"Well…yeah." Hex paused for a minute to organize the thoughts boiling in his brain. "Lestrange could have been stopped by any one of us, provided we could resist him. So why am I here? Why did you let me enter as a fifth year and everything?"
"Ah." The headmaster looked sincerely into his eyes. "Are you here in fulfillment of an age-old prophecy? Because your parents were wizards? Or for some other, similar reason? I'm afraid, Mr. Holmstrom, that the answer is no to all those questions.
"We don't have that many age-old prophecies, and most of them are too cryptic to understand anyway. And I'm afraid I know less about your parents than you do." Dumbledore smiled again. "I'm flattered that you think I have all the answers, but I do not. What I do know is that you were a lost young man with untapped powers, and you needed Hogwarts as much as it needed you."
Hex thought back to the night, many lifetimes ago, when he had found the Hogwarts letter under his pillow. "So you have no idea why I'm here."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Holmstrom, but I do not. Like you, I can only speculate. Do you know the original owner of the suit of armor that guards the Hufflepuff dormitories?"
The boy shook his head, wondering at the change in subject.
"The armor belonged to Lady Helga Hufflepuff, one of the Hogwarts Four. Its shield bears the emblem of the badger, Lady Hufflepuff's coat of arms and symbol of Hufflepuff House." Dumbledore chuckled as Hex's eyes widened. "Legend typecasts Lady Hufflepuff as a gentle, hardworking, loyal woman, and she was indeed all that. But yes, the armor was hers, and she used it well."
"What has that got to do with me?"
"Well, Mr. Holmstrom, I may not have had any ulterior motives for bringing you to Hogwarts; but perhaps Lady Hufflepuff did. Perhaps it was time to debunk the Hufflepuff myth."
"Professor?" Hex asked again as Dumbledore rose to leave.
"Yes?"
"One last thing, I promise." Hex looked earnestly up at the headmaster. "You know, all this talk about armor…hiding my real name was like my armor, and I hope I used it well, but I don't think I need it anymore." He turned to look at his friends, still asleep on either side of him. "I think—I mean, I want to start using my real name again. I think I'll be strong enough to handle the consequences."
To that, Dumbledore made no reply. He only smiled, nodded, and left the hospital wing.
The rest of Hex's stay in the hospital wing would have been peaceful if he hadn't realized the O.W.L.s were near. Madam Pomfrey forbade him from summoning his books and wouldn't let any of their visitors bring them, decreeing that her patients needed to rest and not worry about examinations. When Hex protested, she threatened to sedate him, and he had to content himself with lying in bed and trying to recall everything the study group had discussed.
On the day of the O.W.L.s, Hex dragged himself out of bed. Peter had risen ahead of him and was probably already in the Great Hall, cramming with the rest of the fifth years.
Madam Pomfrey fed him his morning gruel and helped him into his school robes, muttering darkly about the lack of special privileges for the sick. Although they had been in the hospital wing for the past few days and were unable to study, Professor McGonagall had refused to let Peter, Hex and Maeve take the exams at a later date. "Drink this," the matron ordered, pressing a goblet full of silver liquid in his hand. "Tirelessness Potion. The headmaster said to let the three of you have some for the examinations today."
Hex did as he was told and was immediately felt refreshed.
"You still mustn't exert yourself," Madam Pomfrey cautioned. "The potion only keeps you from feeling tired. You could be dying of exhaustion and not know it."
"That's a cheerful thought."
"You are to come back to the hospital wing during the lunch break to eat, rest and take more potion," she continued crisply. "Please remember, Holmstrom, you are still sick. Now go."
"Wait a minute." Hex pointed to where Maeve still lay, asleep. "What about Maeve?"
"She's sedated right now. It will wear off in plenty of time for the O.W.L.s. I'll send her down when she's ready. Now go," Madam Pomfrey repeated. "Good luck."
Heeding her advice, Hex walked slowly to the Transfiguration corridor, where the first O.W.L. exam was to be held. It was funny how removed the hospital wing seemed from the rest of Hogwarts. When he had entered the hospital wing, the O.W.L.s were days away. Now it was only hours. It was like stepping out of a time machine.
Conversation dwindled away when he showed up. People looked up from their books to gape at him. He supposed they all thought he was comatose, or a vegetable, or something. Hex tossed everyone a flippant little salute on his way to join the Hufflepuffs.
His housemates, too, were looking at him with some awe. "Hex," Ernie breathed, holding out his hand. "Welcome back."
He grinned and slapped his classmate's hand. "Thanks. It's good to be back."
Other hands went up as more people offered their good wishes. Quite a few were boiling with curiosity over what had happened to them — Hex supposed Peter didn't have much to say — but looked afraid to ask. It was like he had come back from the dead.
Peter was sitting on the floor outside Professor McGonagall's classroom, absently stroking Norman, when Hex reached him. The two boys looked at each other. It was the first time since that night in the Forbidden Forest that they had seen each other conscious. "Hex," Peter greeted him, rising to his feet. Norman jumped to his feet as well and mewled in greeting.
"Pete," Hex replied. They shook hands and hugged each other roughly. "Good to see you."
"Likewise."
"My, my, isn't that touching," Malfoy drawled from where the Slytherins were standing. "But I would prefer that you keep your displays of affection private. I just ate, you know."
"Sod off, Malfoy," Peter growled. His burly form wavered, as if he were trying to change into a bear and stop himself from doing so at the same time.
Everyone gasped, but the pale Slytherin looked unfazed. "What if I don't want to?"
"Then maybe you'd like to join Selenius Lestrange six million feet under," Hex replied grimly, drawing his wand. "I can do that, you know. I remember the spell, and I think I can throw you down a bottomless ravine more easily than I did him."
"You wouldn't dare."
"I would."
It was Maeve. There was a chillingly familiar glitter in her eyes.
Malfoy sneered. "What is this, Hufflepuff's answer to Potty, the Weasel and the Mudblood?"
She ignored that. "I know the spell, too, Draco, and I doubt if that many people would miss you."
There were a few titters at her words and Hex smiled thinly. "So are you up for it? Just say the word, pal, and then we'll say the word."
Malfoy was spared from responding by Hermione's arrival. "Come off it now," she said in her bossiest voice. "Let's get back to work."
"Why don't you make me, Mudblood?" Malfoy taunted.
"I suppose I could take points off Slytherin," the bushy-haired girl replied, fingering her prefect badge meaningfully, "but since Gryffindor is so far ahead of Slytherin for the House Cup, it wouldn't really matter, would it?"
The Gryffindors laughed uproariously at her retort, and Malfoy finally flushed angrily and turned away. Hermione looked at the three Hufflepuffs. "Let's keep things orderly, shall we?" she asked crisply, then smiled. "Thank goodness you're all right."
"Thanks, Herm," Hex replied. "We're glad we're all right, too."
Hermione made a face at him. "Don't call me Herm," she said, but laughed before she walked away.
He watched her leave, then looked down at Maeve. "Hey."
She looked smaller and paler than usual, and there were tears welling up in her eyes, but she managed a watery smile. "Hello." She laughed self-consciously and scrubbed at her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I suppose I look a mess."
"No, you don't. You're beautiful."
Maeve sniffled and threw her arms around both him and Peter. The two boys traded looks, then grinned. They stayed locked in a group hug until Professor McGonagall threw open her classroom door to signal that exams were about to begin.
Hex watched their classmates file into the room. "This is it," he told his friends. "Let's go in."
Concluding Remarks: I wrote the hospital wing scene in practically one go. I was afraid I'd left things out or didn't explain them properly, but whenever I read it over I found I was happy with Dumbledore's answers to our burning questions. To recap: Lestrange has some kind of ability to manipulate anyone, provided that person's name had been uttered in the magical world. Maeve, as his biological daughter, might have some of this ability. The return of Voldemort and his Death Eaters required all Muggle-borns (and those of indeterminate origin, like Hex) entering Hogwarts that year to hide their names.
I think it was especially cool to have no real reason to allow Hex into Hogwarts as a fifth year. JK Rowling depicts Dumbledore as the wise, God/Yoda/Mr. Miyagi character, but he became truly wise for me when he recognized that he does not know everything. (That's Socrates :D) So, unlike Mary Sue and Gary Stu, Hex has neither prophecy nor birthright. He's just a guy I created to wreak havoc in Hogwarts. And we can only speculate about the role Helga Hufflepuff had in making this story come about.
Pardon the essay. One more chapter to go…
