On Wednesday Harry, Ron and Hermione were the first ones into the Defence
Against the Dark Arts classroom, and they were surprised to find Professor
Figg sitting on her desk, laughing with a strange man. Harry and Hermione
hung back uncertainly, but Ron gave an exclamation and walked straight in.
"Fletcher?"
The man turned round and grinned widely. "Well well well! Wee Ronnie Weasley, I haven't seen you in ages!"
Harry couldn't help staring at him, though he knew it was rude. The man was over six feet tall and frighteningly well-built, with a round, egg- shaped bald head sitting atop huge, broad shoulders. He looked rather more like the leader of some sort of violent American mobster motorbike gang than a peaceable British wizard.
"This is Mundungus Fletcher, an Auror friend of mine," Professor Figg said.
"You can call me Fletch," said the wizard cheerily. His educated tones clearly set him apart from the mobster image.
"Fletch's a friend of my parents'," Ron explained to Harry and Hermione. "He cheats at cards."
"I do not!" Fletch said. "Ron's a wicked little rogue. He marked his cards."
"Those were Bill's cards and you told him to do it!" Ron shot back, and they both grinned.
"Fletch, these three are fifth-year Gryffindors," Professor Figg said. "Ron Weasley you know, and here are Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
Fletch caught up Hermione's hand in his large paw and shook it enthusiastically. "Delighted to meet you, Hermione," he said, and he certainly looked like it, with the great big grin that cracked his face in half.
Then he turned to Harry. "May I say, I think you look rather a lot like Lily. We were friends a long time ago, you know." He lowered his voice. "Harry, I'm here on behalf of Snuffles."
Harry jumped. "Sirius?"
"Sirius Black?" Ron said, surprised.
"Hush, hush! Yes. He's fine, but he can't come himself. So he sent the next best thing-me! I've wanted to meet you dreadfully for such a long time."
Harry felt a little embarassed. "Here I am."
Fletch beamed. "Why, I remember when you were just a wee little baby! I could hold you in one hand, you were so tiny." He shook his head.
Then the rest of the class walked in and they had to hurry to get seats at the front.
"Today we have a guest speaker," Professor Figg said. "Mundungus Fletcher, whom we have learned about, will tell you about his career as an Auror. Fletch?"
Fletch stepped forward and acknowledged the smattering of applause with a wave of his hand. Everyone suddenly noticed that his left hand was missing the index finger. The clapping paused.
Fletch smiled. "You've noticed the missing finger." There was an uncomfortable silence. "It's all right," Fletch assured them. "Curiosity is natural. You want to know where it went? I don't even know myself. I lost it in a duel with the Death Eater Derrick Lestrange about two years before most of you were born.
"At that time, Voldemort was at the pinnacle of his power trip, though we didn't know at the time that he would be gone a few years later. But Death Eaters were strutting along the street like they already owned the world. Naturally we Aurors had to protect our honour, so whenever we saw an enemy there would be a huge clash. Mad-Eye Moody was the biggest dueller of us all. You've seen how scarred he is, you can imagine what kind of brawls he must have gotten into.
"I was a junior Ministry Auror with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. That morning Professor Figg got in a big duel in front of Madam Malkin's with a man suspected of Death Eater involvement, and was detained by Ministry Hit Wizards for making a disturbance."
The surprised students looked at Professor Figg, who put one hand on her forehead and sighed wearily, as if she had wanted to forget it.
"Don't believe it?" laughed Fletch. "Arabella Figg was a real troublemaker back then, and it didn't help that she was suspicious of everything. Everybody was a Death Eater or a potential Death Eater, in her opinion." Professor Figg frowned slightly. "The rest of us retreated to the Leaky Cauldron, our usual haunt, to debate the issue. I was standing on a table, making a stirring speech about something or other when I stabbed my finger in the air to emphasize my point-and suddenly it wasn't there anymore, and Derrick Lestrange was standing alone in the doorway with his wand raised at me, grinning like a fiend.
"Now about Lestrange: the Ministry had about twenty or thirty criminal charges conclusively pinned on him by then, but he'd somehow managed to elude us for over three years. He was cutting it very close by being in London, especially so near to the Ministry offices.
"Yet there he stood, with his arrogant smirk that I hated. 'I thought you were a poorer shot, Lestrange,' I said to him. 'What were you aiming for, my leg?'
" 'Perhaps 'twas the fickle finger of Fate,' said Lestrange, 'but at least I'm not the one always pointing the finger of scorn. You think I can't slip through your fingers this time, Fletch my friend? Come on and duel me then! Or are you all thumbs? Does the right hand forget its cunning?' "
"So you fought him?" Dean Thomas asked. "With an injury?"
"Would you not have done the same? I felt compelled to avenge my missing finger."
"Why couldn't you simply reattach it?" Hermione wanted to know.
Fletch grinned. "Would that it were so easy! No, Hermione, though medical technology has advanced in leaps and bounds since that time, the spells for reattaching or creating new limbs was still in developmental stages, and unfortunately no representative of St. Mungo's medical research institute was present on that day."
"Do go on, you're getting off topic," said Professor Figg, looking bored.
"Quite right, my dear. Where was I? Ah yes, the duel. He started with a Disarming Charm, but I fired a beer glass at his face and he lost his concentration and merely made a button fall off my shirt. I tried a Full- Body Bind, but he blocked it and came back with a giant yellow fireball. Naturally I used a Flame-Freezing Charm, but he was ready with a spell that caused three snakes to leap out the end of his wand straight at my face."
Fletch told them about that and other duels. He recapped the history of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, because, as he said with a grin, "the man's never going to come back here to tell you himself, and I can't say I blame him." Fletch replayed the finest moments in his career, including the capture of Derek Lestrange.
"We had a spy on the inside who found out where Lestrange was going to be on a certain day, and I simply had to arrange to be there at the same time. He was hiding out at a friend's house at Inverness in northern Scotland, and with the help of our spy I nabbed Lestrange outside the property."
He rubbed his hands together and grinned. "It was beautiful! He was walking out the iron gates and I stepped out of the shadows and demanded a wizarding duel. Lestrange was terribly shocked that I'd found him, but he could hardly resist, and during the duel he walked right into a cursing snare. You see, when you've got enough skill and experience you start to figure out which spells you like best in a duel, and you use them more often and in certain orders, and if someone else knows which spells are your best and which are your worst, they can defeat you easily. It's a bit like playing chess, they're both about strategy. Lestrange used a lot of the same curses, especially the Unforgivable Curses. Cruciatus was his best one. He practised it so much that he had that one down to a light, loose flick of the wrist. But just when he raised his wand to Cruciatus me, I threw a Patronus at him. Arabella Figg devised that one for me," he said, bowing to Professor Figg. "She's a brilliant defense strategist. She figured out that if I could get a really frightening, well-timed Patronus in before Lestrange started his Cruciatus, I could scare him long enough to possibly put in a Stunning Spell. So I practised my Patronus for weeks beforehand, and by the time of the duel it was fabulous. A solid silver Manticore lunging out the end of my wand straight at Lestrange's throat. He half-fainted, and I had thrown a Stunner just after the Patronus, so it knocked him out right afterwards."
The bell rang then.
"No homework!" called Professor Figg, and the students cheered.
Harry was stuffing his textbooks into his schoolbag when a broad silhouette fell across his desk.
"Harry," said Fletch, "would you take a walk with me? I'd like to speak with you privately."
Harry looked to Ron, who shrugged.
"Yeah," Harry said to Fletch. "Sure. I guess I'll see you later," he said to Ron and Hermione.
"See you," said Hermione, looking quizzically at Fletch.
"Fletcher?"
The man turned round and grinned widely. "Well well well! Wee Ronnie Weasley, I haven't seen you in ages!"
Harry couldn't help staring at him, though he knew it was rude. The man was over six feet tall and frighteningly well-built, with a round, egg- shaped bald head sitting atop huge, broad shoulders. He looked rather more like the leader of some sort of violent American mobster motorbike gang than a peaceable British wizard.
"This is Mundungus Fletcher, an Auror friend of mine," Professor Figg said.
"You can call me Fletch," said the wizard cheerily. His educated tones clearly set him apart from the mobster image.
"Fletch's a friend of my parents'," Ron explained to Harry and Hermione. "He cheats at cards."
"I do not!" Fletch said. "Ron's a wicked little rogue. He marked his cards."
"Those were Bill's cards and you told him to do it!" Ron shot back, and they both grinned.
"Fletch, these three are fifth-year Gryffindors," Professor Figg said. "Ron Weasley you know, and here are Hermione Granger and Harry Potter."
Fletch caught up Hermione's hand in his large paw and shook it enthusiastically. "Delighted to meet you, Hermione," he said, and he certainly looked like it, with the great big grin that cracked his face in half.
Then he turned to Harry. "May I say, I think you look rather a lot like Lily. We were friends a long time ago, you know." He lowered his voice. "Harry, I'm here on behalf of Snuffles."
Harry jumped. "Sirius?"
"Sirius Black?" Ron said, surprised.
"Hush, hush! Yes. He's fine, but he can't come himself. So he sent the next best thing-me! I've wanted to meet you dreadfully for such a long time."
Harry felt a little embarassed. "Here I am."
Fletch beamed. "Why, I remember when you were just a wee little baby! I could hold you in one hand, you were so tiny." He shook his head.
Then the rest of the class walked in and they had to hurry to get seats at the front.
"Today we have a guest speaker," Professor Figg said. "Mundungus Fletcher, whom we have learned about, will tell you about his career as an Auror. Fletch?"
Fletch stepped forward and acknowledged the smattering of applause with a wave of his hand. Everyone suddenly noticed that his left hand was missing the index finger. The clapping paused.
Fletch smiled. "You've noticed the missing finger." There was an uncomfortable silence. "It's all right," Fletch assured them. "Curiosity is natural. You want to know where it went? I don't even know myself. I lost it in a duel with the Death Eater Derrick Lestrange about two years before most of you were born.
"At that time, Voldemort was at the pinnacle of his power trip, though we didn't know at the time that he would be gone a few years later. But Death Eaters were strutting along the street like they already owned the world. Naturally we Aurors had to protect our honour, so whenever we saw an enemy there would be a huge clash. Mad-Eye Moody was the biggest dueller of us all. You've seen how scarred he is, you can imagine what kind of brawls he must have gotten into.
"I was a junior Ministry Auror with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. That morning Professor Figg got in a big duel in front of Madam Malkin's with a man suspected of Death Eater involvement, and was detained by Ministry Hit Wizards for making a disturbance."
The surprised students looked at Professor Figg, who put one hand on her forehead and sighed wearily, as if she had wanted to forget it.
"Don't believe it?" laughed Fletch. "Arabella Figg was a real troublemaker back then, and it didn't help that she was suspicious of everything. Everybody was a Death Eater or a potential Death Eater, in her opinion." Professor Figg frowned slightly. "The rest of us retreated to the Leaky Cauldron, our usual haunt, to debate the issue. I was standing on a table, making a stirring speech about something or other when I stabbed my finger in the air to emphasize my point-and suddenly it wasn't there anymore, and Derrick Lestrange was standing alone in the doorway with his wand raised at me, grinning like a fiend.
"Now about Lestrange: the Ministry had about twenty or thirty criminal charges conclusively pinned on him by then, but he'd somehow managed to elude us for over three years. He was cutting it very close by being in London, especially so near to the Ministry offices.
"Yet there he stood, with his arrogant smirk that I hated. 'I thought you were a poorer shot, Lestrange,' I said to him. 'What were you aiming for, my leg?'
" 'Perhaps 'twas the fickle finger of Fate,' said Lestrange, 'but at least I'm not the one always pointing the finger of scorn. You think I can't slip through your fingers this time, Fletch my friend? Come on and duel me then! Or are you all thumbs? Does the right hand forget its cunning?' "
"So you fought him?" Dean Thomas asked. "With an injury?"
"Would you not have done the same? I felt compelled to avenge my missing finger."
"Why couldn't you simply reattach it?" Hermione wanted to know.
Fletch grinned. "Would that it were so easy! No, Hermione, though medical technology has advanced in leaps and bounds since that time, the spells for reattaching or creating new limbs was still in developmental stages, and unfortunately no representative of St. Mungo's medical research institute was present on that day."
"Do go on, you're getting off topic," said Professor Figg, looking bored.
"Quite right, my dear. Where was I? Ah yes, the duel. He started with a Disarming Charm, but I fired a beer glass at his face and he lost his concentration and merely made a button fall off my shirt. I tried a Full- Body Bind, but he blocked it and came back with a giant yellow fireball. Naturally I used a Flame-Freezing Charm, but he was ready with a spell that caused three snakes to leap out the end of his wand straight at my face."
Fletch told them about that and other duels. He recapped the history of Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, because, as he said with a grin, "the man's never going to come back here to tell you himself, and I can't say I blame him." Fletch replayed the finest moments in his career, including the capture of Derek Lestrange.
"We had a spy on the inside who found out where Lestrange was going to be on a certain day, and I simply had to arrange to be there at the same time. He was hiding out at a friend's house at Inverness in northern Scotland, and with the help of our spy I nabbed Lestrange outside the property."
He rubbed his hands together and grinned. "It was beautiful! He was walking out the iron gates and I stepped out of the shadows and demanded a wizarding duel. Lestrange was terribly shocked that I'd found him, but he could hardly resist, and during the duel he walked right into a cursing snare. You see, when you've got enough skill and experience you start to figure out which spells you like best in a duel, and you use them more often and in certain orders, and if someone else knows which spells are your best and which are your worst, they can defeat you easily. It's a bit like playing chess, they're both about strategy. Lestrange used a lot of the same curses, especially the Unforgivable Curses. Cruciatus was his best one. He practised it so much that he had that one down to a light, loose flick of the wrist. But just when he raised his wand to Cruciatus me, I threw a Patronus at him. Arabella Figg devised that one for me," he said, bowing to Professor Figg. "She's a brilliant defense strategist. She figured out that if I could get a really frightening, well-timed Patronus in before Lestrange started his Cruciatus, I could scare him long enough to possibly put in a Stunning Spell. So I practised my Patronus for weeks beforehand, and by the time of the duel it was fabulous. A solid silver Manticore lunging out the end of my wand straight at Lestrange's throat. He half-fainted, and I had thrown a Stunner just after the Patronus, so it knocked him out right afterwards."
The bell rang then.
"No homework!" called Professor Figg, and the students cheered.
Harry was stuffing his textbooks into his schoolbag when a broad silhouette fell across his desk.
"Harry," said Fletch, "would you take a walk with me? I'd like to speak with you privately."
Harry looked to Ron, who shrugged.
"Yeah," Harry said to Fletch. "Sure. I guess I'll see you later," he said to Ron and Hermione.
"See you," said Hermione, looking quizzically at Fletch.
