HPFF(4)
Phebe was boring her way through ADADA, politely ignoring Wera's random ranting when there was a knock on the door. Professor Finstad hesitantly stopped his lesson.
"Come in," he said, clearly annoyed at the interruption.
"Hello?" said a shy voice. Its owner stepped into the room. He had short, light brown hair and sideburns. His eyes were a dark blue. "Uhm, hi," the cute teen said nervously. The class stared at him. "My name is Xelan Enadio," Xelan cleared his throat. Professor looked at him expectantly. "I'm .. your .. intern?" Xelan half-stated, half-asked the professor.
"Oh," said the elvin teacher. "I suppose you are."
Hmmm, Phebe thought, eyeing the new arrival, he's pretty cute.
"Oh!" whispered Wera in Phebe's ear, "Phee, he's soo hot!" Phebe nodded. An uneasy silence engulfed the room.
Professor Finstad coughed. "Well, ah, Xelan, it's good you're here."
"And you are Professor..?" Xelan asked.
"Finstad, Professor Finstad," the elf-man said. "Say, Xelan, how old are you?"
"Well, I'm practically nineteen," Xelan said, eyeing the class bashfully.
"Then you should have quite a bit of experience concerning the Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Uhm, yes."
"What school did you go to?" Finstad queried curiously, crossing his elvish arms.
"I went to Crowdorn, that's in – "
"New Jersey!" exclaimed Finstad and clasped his hands. "I attended Crowdorn myself. A great school, really." He paused for a moment, wallowing in memory. A glaze replaced the sparkle in his eyes. "Does the dear Professor Malkin still teach History of Magic?"
"Uhm, she, uh, died last year. It was a real surprise. The History of Magic midterms had to be canceled on extremely short notice." Xelan coughed nervously. "Is there anything for me to do?"
"How curious that it was not mentioned in last month's alumni newsletter," murmured Finstad out loud to himself. "Oh, why yes. Of course. There is always something to do for interns. It's quite a coincidence that you are here today, because the students need some new materials." Finstad smiled his elvin smile. "They're in the closet down the hall. If you would be so kind, Ms. Hawkins, to show Mr. Enadio where it is." Phebe could feel herself blushing.
"Sh-sure," she stuttered.
"Fifteen copies of .." elvish Finstad hurried to his desk and flipped through a notebook, "Fifteen copies of The Dark Arts Defense Catalogue, if you please. It's a really handy spell book with protection charms," he explained to the class.
Phebe got up from her seat and walked towards the door. Xelan opened it for her. "Thanks," she whispered, smiling. "My name is Phebe," she told Xelan after he had followed her out of the class and closed the door.
"I'm Xelan," he grinned.
"So I heard," Phebe informed him. She couldn't help grinning back. "So, how long are you staying at Hogwarts?" she asked, in an attempt to start a conversation.
"Two months," Xelan said. "Do you know if there's going to be a Halloween party tonight?"
"A party? Yeah," said Phebe. "It's sort of like a big dinner in the main hall." She lowered her voice. "The real party is in the seventh-years' lounge. It starts around midnight."
"Sounds good." Xelan searched the ceiling of the hallway for no particular reason. "Will, ah, you be there?"
"Hmm, yes," Phebe smiled. "Are you staying in a dorm?" she asked quickly.
"Yeah," Xelan nodded, jamming his hands into his pockets. "I guess you could call me a Gryffindor inmate."
This was news to Phebe. "Have you met any of the Gryffindors yet?"
"Uh, yeah, the House Captain. Ron." He paused thoughtfully. "And Harry Potter." Xelan glanced at Phebe to see her reaction. "He's, ah, pretty impressive."
"I know," said Phebe, feeling miserable. She didn't like the turn this conversation was taking at all. Was there any casual way to say that she and Harry were a couple? By this time, Phebe and Xelan had reached the hall closet. Xelan opened the door.
"Are you two friends?" Xelan asked nonchalantly.
"Harry and me?" Phebe said, "Yes, I guess you could call us .. friends."
"Hmm, Dark Arts Defense Catalogue, right?" Xelan gave her a questioning look. "How many books?"
"I think he said fifteen," said Phebe. Xelan handed her a stack of six heavy, green books. "The Dark Arts Defense Catalogue," read Phebe. "'The ultimate guide to self-defense.' Even reading the cover makes me feel safe." Phebe yawned sarcastically.
"To be honest, that book is a load of crap," Xelan told her. "I used it during my Junior and Senior years and I know for sure that none of the advice is really useful." He paused. "The problem is, it's all theoretical."
"I hate unpractical things," Phebe grimaced.
"Me too," Xelan agreed.
"Are you going to study somewhere next year?"
"Yes, I've had my eye on a college in the Netherlands. It's called Mystweed."
Phebe smiled. "I know. A few of my friends have an eye on it too."
"It's a law school, you know," said Xelan giving her a sideways glance. "The best lawyers in the wizarding world went to school there."
"Oh," said Phebe disappointedly, "I thought it had something to do with Herbology majoring."
"Not in the least," Xelan informer her. He grabbed his own stack of nine books and closed the closet with his foot. They began to walk slowly back to the DADA classroom. When they reached the door, Xelan turned and smiled at Phebe.
"I'm looking forward to seeing you at the party tonight," Xelan half-whispered.
"Me too," Phebe replied, but she wasn't sure if she really meant it. Phebe opened the door with her elbow.
"There you are!" exclaimed Professor Finstad. "I was almost afraid you'd lost your way." Phebe smiled bitterly at her teacher's perfectly unnecessary remark. "Would you please pass out the books?" the elf-teacher asked. Phebe did as she was told, took her seat and waited for the bell to ring.
* * *
"What am I going to wear?!" screeched Wera. She was running around the Ravenclaw dorm room she shared with Phebe. "Can I borrow your red top?" she asked her roomie.
"Sure," Phebe said, pointing to the trunk at the foot of her four-poster bed. Sixth and seventh years cohabited with one other roomie in two-person dorm rooms.
After the Halloween feast, many of the older students had retreated to their respective Houses to prepare for the party. Some, like Jack and Vanessa, who were Halloween party committee members, were already in the multi-House lounge to put up last-minute decorations and make sure the refreshments were ready.
"What are you wearing?" asked Wera excitedly.
"All black," Phebe answered simply.
"How drab!" Wera scoffed.
"Hey!" Phebe reminded her, "It's Halloween!"
"True," Wera agreed.
* * *
Cerise arrived at the Slytherin portrait hole after a visit to the lounge. She had skipped dinner. Instead, she helped put up a few decorations for the Halloween party, hoping Draco would be gone by the time she returned.
"Hey you," she said to a frightened-looking second-year who had just left the Slytherin common room. "Is Draco Malfoy in there?"
"Dr-dr-dr-draco?" the girl stuttered. "M-m-m-malfoy?" she gulped. "N-n-no."
"Thanks," Cerise snapped un-appreciatingly and pushed the second-year aside.
Climbing the stairs to her dorm, Cerise envisioned herself flopping lazily down on her comfy four-poster after a stressful day. She decided to think twice about flopping when she saw her bed was covered in black roses. Cerise loved black roses. They were so beautiful and cryptic. She smiled to herself. Her roommate Coralie entered their dorm.
"Whoa!" Coralie exclaimed. "What's this?"
"Black roses," Cerise explained. "Draco has always been too proud to apologize."
"How sweet," commented Coralie skeptically. "I won't ask."
"Will you be sleeping here tonight?" Cerise asked innocently.
"Nope," replied Coralie.
"Ok," said Cerise, smiling to herself again, as she gathered the black roses into a big pile.
* * *
"There you are," said Harry. He greeted Phebe with a kiss when she finally stepped out of the Ravenclaw portrait hole where he'd been waiting for her. "I was afraid you'd ditched me."
"I wouldn't do that," Phebe insisted.
"Let's go." Harry put his arm around Phebe's waist and guided her to the seventh-year lounge.
The lounge was absolutely crowded, although it was just quarter past midnight. A seventh-year Slytherin called Xelan Gattib and his band members were doing a sound check on a makeshift stage. Vanessa Roche walked onto the provisional juncture.
"Sonorus," she said, pointing her wand at herself. "Welcome to this year's Halloween party!" her voice boomed. "Tonight, Grayburn will be gracing us with their musical talent. At one-thirty, we'll give the guys a break and switch to old-fashioned Muggle CD's."
Xelan Gattib put an enhancing charm on his voice and said, "Let's hear a round of applause for the organizers of this event!" The present students clapped and cheered obediently. "Our first song is called 'Quasimodo.' It's a cover-version of the Muggle band Lifehouse. Enjoy!"
"I know this song," Phebe yelled to Harry over the sound that flooded the lounge."
"Do you want something to drink?" Harry shouted back. Phebe nodded.
"I'll go sit in our regular corner," she called. Phebe fought her was over to the corner where Linus, Ron, Hermione and even Cerise and Draco were sitting. They were all sipping spiked punch and Ron was telling jokes.
"Hi!" Phebe greeted them. "Has anyone seen Wera?" Nobody had.
Harry pushed his way through the crowd to the temporary bar, manned by Terry and Jack.
"Hey!" Harry yelled.
"What's up, man?" grinned Jack.
"Hey, Harry, what can I do for you?" Terry asked.
"Got any of that Blast you made in Potions last week?" Harry inquired casually.
"Sure," Terry nodded. "How much?"
"Just dump a tube each into two cocktails."
"I only take hard cash, my friend," Terry smiled. Harry handed him a handful of coins and Terry dropped his blue magic powder into the drinks.
"Thanks!" Harry said.
"Any time," said Terry. "It's always a pleasure to do business with you." Harry fought his way back to the corner his friends had occupied. He handed Phebe a cocktail.
"Harry, I hope you didn't have this spiked," Phebe yelled.
"What?" Harry asked. "I can't hear you! It's too loud!"
"Never mind," Phebe murmured and took a sip of her drink.
"Give me a few hours, I'll have this all figured out, if my mind would just stop racing," sang Gattib.
Phebe emptied her glass in no time. Undoubtedly, someone had poured something into it but she didn't care tonight. It was, after all, Halloween. She told Harry where she was going and headed for the bar.
"Jack!" Terry warned, "Phebe's coming! Put the Blast away!"
"Hi," yelled Phebe.
"Hello," Jack and Terry grinned innocently. "Enjoyed your cocktail?"
"You spiked it," she stated smugly.
"Did he tell you?" Terry asked, disappointed his friend had told on him. He braced himself for a lecture.
"No," Phebe surprised him, "I guess I tasted it." She looked around. "Do you have any more?"
"Blast?" asked Jack and Terry together.
"No, puppies on a stick," Phebe said sarcastically. The two gaped at her. "Of course I want Blast, you idiots!"
"You want Blast?" Jack asked and stared at her open-mouthed.
"Do you have any idea what I would do for a tube of Blast right about now?" Phebe asked the stunned bartenders.
This must be some kind of practical joke, Terry thought. Oh well. "Just one tube?" he asked.
"Yes, just one. Then I'll stop. I promise."
Terry checked the vicinity for any potential tattletales. There were none. "Ok," he said. "But you have to get it back here and if anyone asks, you didn't get it from me," Terry instructed.
"Ok, ok, I know the drill!" Phebe said, getting impatient. She stepped around to the back of the bar. Jack handed her a tube of Blast. She inhaled the blue powder and immediately felt calmer. "How much?" she asked Terry, holding the heel of her hand to her nose.
"For you?" Terry asked. "Free." He shrugged his shoulders. Phebe had been his best client back in sixth year. He had never betrayed her secret addiction to anyone. Vanessa was the only other person who knew. Not even Harry knew about Phebe's former habit.
"You're terrific," Phebe told Terry. "Could you pour me a cocktail?"
When Phebe returned to the corner, her head was spinning, but it felt good. Just like last year. She knew that she would at least not be consciously present if the evening turned out to be boring. Phebe plunked into her seat next to Harry. While she was gone, Xelan Enadio had appeared.
"This is Xelan," Harry introduced her.
"I know, I know," Phebe said irritably. "We've met."
"Would you like to dance?" Xelan asked her and held out his hand. Harry scowled at her.
"Sure," Phebe said and scowled back at Harry. She handed him her drink and let Xelan lead her to the dance floor. Grayburn was playing a slow song. Phebe slumped weakly into Xelan's arms.
"Phebe?" Xelan asked, peering into her face, "Have you been drinking?"
"Uh, no, not really," Phebe lied. They danced for about three minutes. Then Xelan felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Harry.
"Sorry," Harry said curtly, "I think my girlfriend has had too much to drink."
"Your girlfriend?" Xelan asked dubiously.
"It's not true," Phebe moaned, "I only had one drink!"
"That's quite enough," Harry said, draping her right arm over his shoulder and supporting the small of her back with his left hand. He said good-bye to Xelan and searched the crowd for Vanessa. Having found her, Harry dragged Phebe over to Van.
"Have you seen Wera?" he asked her.
"Not lately," Vanessa admitted, eyeing the limp Phebe suspiciously. "What's up with her?" Harry made a drinking gesture.
"No-ot!" Phebe protested.
"I see," Vanessa said. "Would you like me to take her to the dorm?"
"That would be great," Harry said. He was quite angry that Phebe had managed to lose her self-control in only one hour.
"I'm hanging by a moment here with you!" Gattib sang, as Harry made his way over to the bar.
"Where are Jack and Terry?" he asked the brown-haired boy behind the bar. The boy shrugged. Harry stormed back to the corner.
"Have a drink," Ron suggested to Harry, seeing how jittery he was. "Calm down."
Linus had disappeared, so Harry sat wordlessly across from Hermione, Ron, Cerise and Draco, downing one alcoholic concoction after another.
* * *
"Hello," said Phebe to Vanessa when her vision cleared.
"Don't do that!" Vanessa exclaimed. "Don't scare me like that, Phebe!"
* * *