Author's Note: To sbys, kateydidnt and Occamy -- bet you didn't know Ron was so heroic, did you? Neither does anyone at Hogwarts. But, beginning with this chapter, they're about to learn...
***
"Where did you find this note, Mr....Ennis, is it?" asked Dumbledore, his silver brows knit.
"Attached to the Whomping Willow, sir," said the young boy, awe-struck at having been called into the Headmaster's office and fearful that he had done something wrong in bringing the note; he'd already lost more than enough points for his house this year.
Dumbledore was re-reading the note when Professor McGonagall entered in response to the magical summons sent her by the Headmaster. Without lifting his eyes from the parchment, Dumbledore asked:
"Minerva, is Harry still in hospital?"
"Yes," McGonagall replied, a growing curiosity vying with the natural severity of her features. "Madam Pomfrey is thinking of releasing him shortly."
With a curt nod at McGonagall, Dumbledore turned to the boy, a benevolent smile spreading across his face.
"When did you first notice this note upon the tree?"
"Three days ago, sir."
"You told no one?"
"I thought it was a prank, sir," the boy said in a quavering falsetto. "You see, sir, I don't have many mates in my own house -- I've lost so many points, they're mad at me. So I've made some mates from the other houses, only...only they think it's funny to trick me into breaking the rules so I'll lose points or get detention. So when I saw the note on the tree, I thought it was the Slytherins having me on again. I know students aren't allowed near the Whomping Willow. I thought they wanted me to get caught and punished, or maybe even hurt by the branches. It -- it seemed like something they'd do."
"Yet, in the end," Dumbledore observed, stroking his beard sagely, "you fetched it all the same."
"Well, sir, after a while I saw that no one seemed to be aware of it but me. So I thought maybe it wasn't a prank after all. And if it was a real note from somebody, maybe...maybe it was important. Maybe somebody was hurt, or needed help. So I slipped under the branches -- "
At this, Dumbledore's brows rose and the corners of his moustaches curled into a broad grin.
The boy's face colored even as a trace of a smile crossed his still quivering lips.
"I'm rather quick, sir," he said with evident pride. "I'm going to try out for Seeker next year...well, um...so I got to the tree, and when I read the note, I didn't understand what it said, not exactly. But it seemed like something you would want to see -- I mean, you know everything, don't you, sir? So if anyone would know what it was about, it would be you, sir."
A pink glow suffused Dumbledore's cheeks as he stroked his long white beard repeatedly, all the while pretending not to see Professor McGonagall eyeing him with something less than approval.
"Young Mr. Ennis," he said at last, his arms folded while a long, bony finger tapped lightly at the corner of his mouth. "I see in you a healthy respect for rules. Yet, for that, willing to risk punishment to help another. A sense of honor, I perceive, and not without daring, nor courage.
"Are you by any chance in Gryffindor house, Mr.Ennis?"
"Y-yes, sir," the boy stammered, thinking the Headmaster was surely psychic (which only added to his greatness, he thought with ever-increasing awe).
Dumbledore's face broke into a virtual radiance.
"Ten points for Gryffindor, I think -- no, twenty!"
Ennis looked as if he might faint.
"You may go, young man," Dumbledore said with a polite bow of his head. "And thank you!"
The boy hurried out gleefully as McGonagall approached the Headmaster, whose countenance grew dire once more.
"What does the note say, Albus?"
"Something quite impossible," Dumbledore replied, rising heavily from his high-backed chair. "Yet I dare not dismiss it out of hand. What do you think?"
He nodded toward the parchment on his desk. Professor McGonagall took it up and read it with narrowed eyes that rapidly grew to the size of saucers. Her face went white.
"This cannot mean what it says, Albus! It would be -- unthinkable!"
"Indeed," Dumbledore said gravely. "Come. We must see Harry."
"Where did you find this note, Mr....Ennis, is it?" asked Dumbledore, his silver brows knit.
"Attached to the Whomping Willow, sir," said the young boy, awe-struck at having been called into the Headmaster's office and fearful that he had done something wrong in bringing the note; he'd already lost more than enough points for his house this year.
Dumbledore was re-reading the note when Professor McGonagall entered in response to the magical summons sent her by the Headmaster. Without lifting his eyes from the parchment, Dumbledore asked:
"Minerva, is Harry still in hospital?"
"Yes," McGonagall replied, a growing curiosity vying with the natural severity of her features. "Madam Pomfrey is thinking of releasing him shortly."
With a curt nod at McGonagall, Dumbledore turned to the boy, a benevolent smile spreading across his face.
"When did you first notice this note upon the tree?"
"Three days ago, sir."
"You told no one?"
"I thought it was a prank, sir," the boy said in a quavering falsetto. "You see, sir, I don't have many mates in my own house -- I've lost so many points, they're mad at me. So I've made some mates from the other houses, only...only they think it's funny to trick me into breaking the rules so I'll lose points or get detention. So when I saw the note on the tree, I thought it was the Slytherins having me on again. I know students aren't allowed near the Whomping Willow. I thought they wanted me to get caught and punished, or maybe even hurt by the branches. It -- it seemed like something they'd do."
"Yet, in the end," Dumbledore observed, stroking his beard sagely, "you fetched it all the same."
"Well, sir, after a while I saw that no one seemed to be aware of it but me. So I thought maybe it wasn't a prank after all. And if it was a real note from somebody, maybe...maybe it was important. Maybe somebody was hurt, or needed help. So I slipped under the branches -- "
At this, Dumbledore's brows rose and the corners of his moustaches curled into a broad grin.
The boy's face colored even as a trace of a smile crossed his still quivering lips.
"I'm rather quick, sir," he said with evident pride. "I'm going to try out for Seeker next year...well, um...so I got to the tree, and when I read the note, I didn't understand what it said, not exactly. But it seemed like something you would want to see -- I mean, you know everything, don't you, sir? So if anyone would know what it was about, it would be you, sir."
A pink glow suffused Dumbledore's cheeks as he stroked his long white beard repeatedly, all the while pretending not to see Professor McGonagall eyeing him with something less than approval.
"Young Mr. Ennis," he said at last, his arms folded while a long, bony finger tapped lightly at the corner of his mouth. "I see in you a healthy respect for rules. Yet, for that, willing to risk punishment to help another. A sense of honor, I perceive, and not without daring, nor courage.
"Are you by any chance in Gryffindor house, Mr.Ennis?"
"Y-yes, sir," the boy stammered, thinking the Headmaster was surely psychic (which only added to his greatness, he thought with ever-increasing awe).
Dumbledore's face broke into a virtual radiance.
"Ten points for Gryffindor, I think -- no, twenty!"
Ennis looked as if he might faint.
"You may go, young man," Dumbledore said with a polite bow of his head. "And thank you!"
The boy hurried out gleefully as McGonagall approached the Headmaster, whose countenance grew dire once more.
"What does the note say, Albus?"
"Something quite impossible," Dumbledore replied, rising heavily from his high-backed chair. "Yet I dare not dismiss it out of hand. What do you think?"
He nodded toward the parchment on his desk. Professor McGonagall took it up and read it with narrowed eyes that rapidly grew to the size of saucers. Her face went white.
"This cannot mean what it says, Albus! It would be -- unthinkable!"
"Indeed," Dumbledore said gravely. "Come. We must see Harry."