Chapter Nineteen
DETENTION
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for not uploading before, I'm a bit busy these days. To apologise, I made a longer chapter:) Hope you like it! REVIEW!
Thank you
Kobra
* * *
"Well, it looks like we won't be able to make our little flying lesson, tonight," said James a few minutes later.
"Don't worry," answered Remus, not really upset in thinking he could avoid the highly dangerous trip.
"I can't believe that McGonagall was around! We must be incredibly unlucky," commented Sirius.
"I don't think it's a question of luck. Why do you always act like that towards Snape and Evans?" Remus sounded concerned.
James continued to walk, looking down and remaining silent.
"I mean, I haven't know you for that long," said Remus, "but you really don't look like the kind of person who would attack someone else just for... for nothing!"
"It's not nothing! It's Sev... Snape who always begins!" burst Peter.
"No, Peter. He's right," sighed James. "I don't know why I do it, either. I hate myself when I do, but I just can't help it!"
The boys reached the class in silence.
* * *
It had been a long day. Double Herbology followed double Transfiguration; they had bed out the filimsosy from the first to the fourth greenhouse. The filimsosy were big and heavy brushes with two trunks in the middle, which made it difficult to carry them, so the operation had proved trying. After that, an unusually difficult hour of Potions had ended the day.
When they got to the common room after lunch, they were all so tired that nobody was willing to play or joke, and both Peter and Remus went to sleep a little bit. James could not finish his assignments after dinner because he had to be in McGonagall office for his detention, so he forced himself to study, and Sirius decided to stay with him.
"Ooooh! I'll never understand this!" sighed James after an hour trying to solve a Transfiguration problem.
"Why don't you try to ask Professor McGonagall, this evening?" suggested Sirius, smiling.
"I really don't think she'll be in the best humor to help. She'll have to stay awake as well."
"Don't you know? It's Pringle who keeps the detentions." James paled. He had heard his father's stories about Pringles' detentions, and he'd showed James the scars. "Don't worry. The very first thing Dumbledore did when he became Headmaster was to eliminate physical punishment," assured Sirius. James felt a little better.
"There's something I want to ask you. You know, Remus was right. Why do you act like that around Lily? Do you like her?"
"Don't be stupid Sirius! I don't like her," said James harshly.
"I've known you forever, and I've never seen you be like that to another person. There must be a reason," insisted Sirius.
"Well, if there is, I'd really like to know myself! Listen, Sirius, I could NEVER like that girl. Never."
"What're you talking about?" asked Peter, entering the room. The two shared an annoyed look.
"Just homework, Peter," answered James.
* * *
Dinnertime had been quiter than usual. It looked like everyone had had a hard day and was willing to go to bed as soon as possible. James agreed, but he had to serve his detention, so he sadly went toward McGonagall's office. She was correcting some papers. James smiled within thiniking that, at least, she had to work late, too.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," said the witch, "come with me." She stood and led James toward the door. They reached Mr. Pringle's office
"Mr. Pringle, this boy has a detention," said Professor McGonagall dryly.
"Ahh, very well," aswered the wrinkled man with an evil light in his eyes. James felt his knees quivering.
"Remember what Professor Dumbledore said. No harming the students."
Pringle watched the witch, looking like an animal deprived of his prey. "You'll just make Mr Potter clean something, or tidy some old shelves. Is it clear, Pringle? Don't touch him." McGonagall's eyes were stricter than usual, her face contracted in a silent menace.
"As you wish, ma'am," said Pringle, his tone meaning something else. The witch turned and went out of the door. The caretaker stared at James with an evil look.
"Well, well! A young wizard who thinks himself over the rules. Which punishment would be suitable for you?" said Pringle, chuckling. He turned his back to James and went to the wall, where some old chains were hanging, and caressed them. The boy stood silently, wishing that Professor McGonagall hadn't left.
"I know a good punishment... oh, I do know MANY good punishments, yes. Punishing is an art." The old man seemed to be talking to himself more than to James. "But that Dumbledore does not want me to! You're lucky, boy." He suddenly turned back to the young wizard and stepped closer.
"I was used to hung students to those chains and whip them till they fainted," said Pringle with a smirk. James thanked Dumbledore for existing.
"Anyway, times change," he concluded sadly before going to a cupboard. He took a bucket, a mop, and a broom.
"You'll wash the floor." James felt his heart beating again. That order sounded like an invitation to a party
"Which rooms?" asked James, feeling safer.
"Which?" repeated Pringle with an evil smile. "All!" he shouted, putting the things in James' hands. He stood there, watching the caretaker. All? He really meant ALL Hogwarts? It was simply impossible. How could it be?
"What are you doing? Go and get to work! I'll come to watch you sometime," said Pringle, pushing the boy out of the room.
James watched the corridor. He had never noticed how dirty it was. Doing the sole corridor looked already impossible, let alone the entire school. He was not even used to washing. At home, the house-elf did most of the work. With a sigh, he decided it was time to begin.
* * *
It was a bit later than midnight, and James had already worked for more than four consecutive hours. His back was hurting more than it ever had, and his eyes was closing unwillingly. Pringle had upped the frequency of his visits as the night passed.
James was sitting down on the floor, trying to rest a bit without falling completely asleep. The caretaker had just passed to tell him he was doing horribly, so he had a few minutes, at least, before the old man came back.
Sitting there, James heard some voices coming from a door nearby. There was a light inside. His curiousity prompted him to draw closer. One was Dumbledore's voice; the other was unknown
"...You can't refuse this! We could all be in danger!" said the unknown voice.
"You know perfectly well what happened the last time I left Hogwarts to help the Ministry. And this time I am the headmaster. I won't leave my students, expecially in a difficult times," replied Dumbledore.
"It has been the fifth attack. The FIFTH! The fact that they haven't reached English land yet does not mean we're safe. We have been officially asked by the Ministries of France, Spain, Germany, Italy and Hungary to send YOU to help, just as you did with Grindewald!"
"Oh, yes! And I remember how the Ministries thanked me after that! I'm tired of caring about your mistakes!" Dumbledore sounded really angry. James had never heard him like that before.
"All right, all right. You have a point. But please, consider the situation. There's something dark going on, and if we don't stop it now, it will get us, too."
"I know." The headmaster seemed to have calmed down. "And that's why I have to stay here."
"Don't tell me you believe that prophecy!" the voice was astonished.
"The Chamber was opened. And, despite your personal assurances, the guilty was never found!"
"But... but this does not mean... oh, come on! Even if that prophecy was true, he shouldn't even arrive for at least ten years! We could be preparing for war any time now!"
"You're a bit catastrophic," chuckled Dumbledore.
"I'm not! And you should really not undestimate the problem!"
"I'm not," returned Dumbledore seriously, "that's why I want to stay here. The only way I can help you is with my advice. I will always offer it if you want to listen."
"That is not a good choice. I hope you'll reconsider it."
"I won't. Goodnight, Minister." James stood quickly and grabbed the broom, going back to his punishment as the door opened.
"Oh, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore did not looked surprised to see him there.
"Er... I have a detention," said James.
"Getting in trouble again, eh?" said the old wizard with a smirk. James looked down, guiltily.
"Yes... Mr. Pringle wants me to wash the floors," said the boy, hopefully. He added, "ALL the floors."
"Ah, good luck, then," said the headmaster, walking past James.
'Damn!' thought the boy. Then, he looked up. Where was the Minister?
"You're guessing what that was about, right?" questioned the seasoned wizard knowingly.
"Oh, I wasn't listening," lied James. Dumbledore looked him square in the eye, and the boy could not hold the look.
"Mr. Potter, you won't talk to anyone about what you CASUALLY heard. I'll ask Mr Pringle to let you work only until morning. Okay?"
"Okay," answered the boy, happy to have listened. The headmaster smiled and went on.
It was another six hours till morning, but James was happier to know that should have been the end of the detention. Then, a thought passed in his mind. Were they really going to make him wash the whole school? He couldn't tell for sure, but knowing Dumbledore, he'd have bet not.
DETENTION
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for not uploading before, I'm a bit busy these days. To apologise, I made a longer chapter:) Hope you like it! REVIEW!
Thank you
Kobra
* * *
"Well, it looks like we won't be able to make our little flying lesson, tonight," said James a few minutes later.
"Don't worry," answered Remus, not really upset in thinking he could avoid the highly dangerous trip.
"I can't believe that McGonagall was around! We must be incredibly unlucky," commented Sirius.
"I don't think it's a question of luck. Why do you always act like that towards Snape and Evans?" Remus sounded concerned.
James continued to walk, looking down and remaining silent.
"I mean, I haven't know you for that long," said Remus, "but you really don't look like the kind of person who would attack someone else just for... for nothing!"
"It's not nothing! It's Sev... Snape who always begins!" burst Peter.
"No, Peter. He's right," sighed James. "I don't know why I do it, either. I hate myself when I do, but I just can't help it!"
The boys reached the class in silence.
* * *
It had been a long day. Double Herbology followed double Transfiguration; they had bed out the filimsosy from the first to the fourth greenhouse. The filimsosy were big and heavy brushes with two trunks in the middle, which made it difficult to carry them, so the operation had proved trying. After that, an unusually difficult hour of Potions had ended the day.
When they got to the common room after lunch, they were all so tired that nobody was willing to play or joke, and both Peter and Remus went to sleep a little bit. James could not finish his assignments after dinner because he had to be in McGonagall office for his detention, so he forced himself to study, and Sirius decided to stay with him.
"Ooooh! I'll never understand this!" sighed James after an hour trying to solve a Transfiguration problem.
"Why don't you try to ask Professor McGonagall, this evening?" suggested Sirius, smiling.
"I really don't think she'll be in the best humor to help. She'll have to stay awake as well."
"Don't you know? It's Pringle who keeps the detentions." James paled. He had heard his father's stories about Pringles' detentions, and he'd showed James the scars. "Don't worry. The very first thing Dumbledore did when he became Headmaster was to eliminate physical punishment," assured Sirius. James felt a little better.
"There's something I want to ask you. You know, Remus was right. Why do you act like that around Lily? Do you like her?"
"Don't be stupid Sirius! I don't like her," said James harshly.
"I've known you forever, and I've never seen you be like that to another person. There must be a reason," insisted Sirius.
"Well, if there is, I'd really like to know myself! Listen, Sirius, I could NEVER like that girl. Never."
"What're you talking about?" asked Peter, entering the room. The two shared an annoyed look.
"Just homework, Peter," answered James.
* * *
Dinnertime had been quiter than usual. It looked like everyone had had a hard day and was willing to go to bed as soon as possible. James agreed, but he had to serve his detention, so he sadly went toward McGonagall's office. She was correcting some papers. James smiled within thiniking that, at least, she had to work late, too.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," said the witch, "come with me." She stood and led James toward the door. They reached Mr. Pringle's office
"Mr. Pringle, this boy has a detention," said Professor McGonagall dryly.
"Ahh, very well," aswered the wrinkled man with an evil light in his eyes. James felt his knees quivering.
"Remember what Professor Dumbledore said. No harming the students."
Pringle watched the witch, looking like an animal deprived of his prey. "You'll just make Mr Potter clean something, or tidy some old shelves. Is it clear, Pringle? Don't touch him." McGonagall's eyes were stricter than usual, her face contracted in a silent menace.
"As you wish, ma'am," said Pringle, his tone meaning something else. The witch turned and went out of the door. The caretaker stared at James with an evil look.
"Well, well! A young wizard who thinks himself over the rules. Which punishment would be suitable for you?" said Pringle, chuckling. He turned his back to James and went to the wall, where some old chains were hanging, and caressed them. The boy stood silently, wishing that Professor McGonagall hadn't left.
"I know a good punishment... oh, I do know MANY good punishments, yes. Punishing is an art." The old man seemed to be talking to himself more than to James. "But that Dumbledore does not want me to! You're lucky, boy." He suddenly turned back to the young wizard and stepped closer.
"I was used to hung students to those chains and whip them till they fainted," said Pringle with a smirk. James thanked Dumbledore for existing.
"Anyway, times change," he concluded sadly before going to a cupboard. He took a bucket, a mop, and a broom.
"You'll wash the floor." James felt his heart beating again. That order sounded like an invitation to a party
"Which rooms?" asked James, feeling safer.
"Which?" repeated Pringle with an evil smile. "All!" he shouted, putting the things in James' hands. He stood there, watching the caretaker. All? He really meant ALL Hogwarts? It was simply impossible. How could it be?
"What are you doing? Go and get to work! I'll come to watch you sometime," said Pringle, pushing the boy out of the room.
James watched the corridor. He had never noticed how dirty it was. Doing the sole corridor looked already impossible, let alone the entire school. He was not even used to washing. At home, the house-elf did most of the work. With a sigh, he decided it was time to begin.
* * *
It was a bit later than midnight, and James had already worked for more than four consecutive hours. His back was hurting more than it ever had, and his eyes was closing unwillingly. Pringle had upped the frequency of his visits as the night passed.
James was sitting down on the floor, trying to rest a bit without falling completely asleep. The caretaker had just passed to tell him he was doing horribly, so he had a few minutes, at least, before the old man came back.
Sitting there, James heard some voices coming from a door nearby. There was a light inside. His curiousity prompted him to draw closer. One was Dumbledore's voice; the other was unknown
"...You can't refuse this! We could all be in danger!" said the unknown voice.
"You know perfectly well what happened the last time I left Hogwarts to help the Ministry. And this time I am the headmaster. I won't leave my students, expecially in a difficult times," replied Dumbledore.
"It has been the fifth attack. The FIFTH! The fact that they haven't reached English land yet does not mean we're safe. We have been officially asked by the Ministries of France, Spain, Germany, Italy and Hungary to send YOU to help, just as you did with Grindewald!"
"Oh, yes! And I remember how the Ministries thanked me after that! I'm tired of caring about your mistakes!" Dumbledore sounded really angry. James had never heard him like that before.
"All right, all right. You have a point. But please, consider the situation. There's something dark going on, and if we don't stop it now, it will get us, too."
"I know." The headmaster seemed to have calmed down. "And that's why I have to stay here."
"Don't tell me you believe that prophecy!" the voice was astonished.
"The Chamber was opened. And, despite your personal assurances, the guilty was never found!"
"But... but this does not mean... oh, come on! Even if that prophecy was true, he shouldn't even arrive for at least ten years! We could be preparing for war any time now!"
"You're a bit catastrophic," chuckled Dumbledore.
"I'm not! And you should really not undestimate the problem!"
"I'm not," returned Dumbledore seriously, "that's why I want to stay here. The only way I can help you is with my advice. I will always offer it if you want to listen."
"That is not a good choice. I hope you'll reconsider it."
"I won't. Goodnight, Minister." James stood quickly and grabbed the broom, going back to his punishment as the door opened.
"Oh, Mr. Potter," Dumbledore did not looked surprised to see him there.
"Er... I have a detention," said James.
"Getting in trouble again, eh?" said the old wizard with a smirk. James looked down, guiltily.
"Yes... Mr. Pringle wants me to wash the floors," said the boy, hopefully. He added, "ALL the floors."
"Ah, good luck, then," said the headmaster, walking past James.
'Damn!' thought the boy. Then, he looked up. Where was the Minister?
"You're guessing what that was about, right?" questioned the seasoned wizard knowingly.
"Oh, I wasn't listening," lied James. Dumbledore looked him square in the eye, and the boy could not hold the look.
"Mr. Potter, you won't talk to anyone about what you CASUALLY heard. I'll ask Mr Pringle to let you work only until morning. Okay?"
"Okay," answered the boy, happy to have listened. The headmaster smiled and went on.
It was another six hours till morning, but James was happier to know that should have been the end of the detention. Then, a thought passed in his mind. Were they really going to make him wash the whole school? He couldn't tell for sure, but knowing Dumbledore, he'd have bet not.