"... so you can see that, with enough power, prolonged exposure can cause
rather uncomfortable disfigurations on the victim," Fae said, adding
finishing touches to a rather graphic drawing on the board and turning to
face the class. "Thankfully, this curse is in no way fatal. It was,
however, very popular as a torture device back in the early 17th
century..."
I yawned widely, which earned me an exasperated glance from Fae. Had I been in a better mood, I may have actually cared. My day had started on a record low and had been going downhill from there. Draco was pointedly ignoring me, which was the main cause of my ill humor, and Pansy was being unusually cold. This wouldn't have been a problem, really, but Pansy seemed to think she had something to prove, so she went out of her way to bug the hell out of me.
To top it all off, I was bored out of my mind. True, Fae's lessons were more interesting than most of our previous Defense teachers' had been, and since my aunt didn't believe in textbooks, we hardly ever had homework. None of this, however, made lectures any more bearable. All I could do was count down the minutes till the bell rang so I could shuffle off to my next class and start the process over again. Such are the joys of being a student.
My day, which was already going wonderfully, got even better when Fae returned her attention to the board and began explaining how the counter- curse worked. Once she wasn't looking our way, a small ball of parchment flew across the room and bounced off the side of my desk. It was followed moments later by another.
Instead of looking around to see who'd thrown it--really, I'd have to be exceptionally stupid not to know already--I picked up one of the crumpled balls and hid it under my desk. I muttered a few words and tapped it with my wand, ignoring a bit of parchment that narrowly missed my head. Smirking, I checked to be sure Fae was busy scribbling on the board, then flung the thing back to the desk Pansy and Cassandra were sharing.
The ball flew across the room in a graceful arc, landing on directly on top of a stack of parchment, which immediately burst into flames. Pansy squealed, successfully attracting the attention of the entire class, and attempted to beat the flames out with her sleeve. All this accomplished was setting her robes on fire. Stupid girl.
Pansy jumped up, knocking her chair over in the process, and tried to put out the flames by flapping her arm wildly, looking rather like a disabled bird trying to fly. It would have been exceptionally funny had Millicent and Cassandra not been screaming like a banshees, giving me a horrible headache.
Quite suddenly, the flames were extinguished by a jet of water, which effectively drenched everything within a five-foot radius of Pansy. The girl stopped jumping around quite suddenly, the cold water shocking her into stillness. She seemed to be stunned. It's not every day you get set on fire, I suppose.
Unfortunately, she knew exactly who was responsible. Her slightly unfocussed gaze locked on me, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
Oh dear.
At the front of the room, Fae slowly lowered her wand. "Are you all right, Miss Parkinson?"
Pansy glared at me a second more before answering. "Yes, I'm fine, Professor. Just a little wet," she said, indicating her still dripping robes.
Fae nodded. "You may go to your dorm and change if you'd like, Miss Parkinson. I'll have someone bring your things to your next class."
"Thank you, Professor." Soaked to the skin and scorched slightly, Pansy marched out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster, considering the circumstances. That didn't make her look any less ridiculous, however.
An uneasy silence settled on the class as the door clicked shut once more. I didn't dare look behind me to see Draco's reaction. However, this left me no choice but to face the front where Fae was looking decidedly pissed.
"Mister Zabini," she said curtly. "I'd like to see you after class, if you don't mind."
I swallowed hard, realizing that I was in very serious trouble.
The rest of class passed without incident, though the bell sounded much sooner than I'd have liked. Fae, not caring that class was officially over, yelled over the commotion of students hastily stuffing their things back into their bags. "I want three feet of parchment on the Effacius Curse. Miss Bulstrode, mind that you write in a somewhat reasonable size this time. I'd hardly call four sentences a proper essay."
Fae waited until the rest of the students had left, then closed the door quietly behind them. "I was under the impression that Slytherins were intelligent," she said dryly, leaning against her desk and crossing her arms. "I'm hoping you're the exception to the rule."
"Fae--"
"Don't 'Fae' me, Blaise," she snapped. "This is getting ridiculous. You're fifteen, and yet I still find myself baby-sitting you. Why is that, do you suppose?"
Regardless of what Fae may think of my intelligence, I was not stupid enough to answer.
"Blaise, if you carry on like this, you're liable to be expelled sooner or later," Fae continued. "The only thing that's saved you so far is there hasn't been enough proof to nail anything on you. Eventually, your luck will run out and you'll have a hell of a lot of explaining to do."
She paused for a moment, apparently expecting some sort of response or apology. When I failed to oblige, she sighed and went on. "Personally, I'm tired of chasing you around, trying to get you to behave in a somewhat decent manner. Now, I'd normally take points for this type of blatant disregard for the rules, but I'd like to see Slytherin in the running for the House Cup, at the very least, and I fear if I dock points every time you do something stupid, we'll end up in the negatives. Therefore, I'll skip that part and give you detention instead."
I almost sighed in relief, then had a sudden thought. "Er... who will these be with?"
Fae grinned evilly. "Me, of course. I want to make sure you're properly punished."
I groaned and let my head fall against the desk. That woman thrives off the pain of others, I swear.
My wonderful aunt just laughed at me. "Oh, come on. You didn't think I'd let you off easy, did you? You'll report to my office /precisely/ at seven each night for the rest of the week, plus the Monday after next."
"I hate you," I grumbled, my voice somewhat muffled by the desk.
"Sorry, didn't catch that," Fae said cheerfully. "What did you say?"
I raised my head to glare mildly at her. "I said, 'why are you giving me next week off?'"
"It's Halloween," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. At my blank stare, she rolled her eyes and elaborated. "Halloween, Blaise. Only the busiest time of entire year. Ghouls, ghosts, and undead creatures. Any of that ring a bell?"
This, of course, left me feeling extremely stupid. She was a Slayer, after all, and Halloween always brought out an unusually high number of dark creatures, though whether it was simply because of tradition or some magical significance, I couldn't say.
"Oh."
"'Oh' is right," she said flatly. "I have previous engagements that require my attention. I'll be leaving on Monday and will probably be gone until Sunday at the latest. If, by chance, I'm kept longer than that, we'll reschedule your remaining detention once I get back."
"Well, /that's/ a relief," I said sarcastically. "I'd have lost a lot of sleep over that one if you hadn't cleared it up."
"That's what I'm here for," Fae replied. "Now, unless I'm mistaken, you have a class to get to, and I have a bunch of seventh-years who are missing their Defense."
Scowling, I shoved my things into my bag and stood to leave.
"Wait a second," Fae said suddenly. She scribbled a bit on a piece a parchment and shoved it into my hands, then pushed my lightly toward the door. "Go on, get out of here."
I was more than happy to oblige, shoving past a small crowd of Hufflepuffs that had congregated outside the door. Several shot me curious looks, but I ignored them and continued on my way.
Rounding a corner, I unclenched my fist and skimmed over the parchment Fae had given me, my anger slowly ebbing away. She'd given me a pass for my next class so I wouldn't get in trouble. I suppose even Fae could be decent if she tried.
Of course, it wasn't until I was nearly to the Ancient Runes classroom that I realized that she'd given me something much better, even if she hadn't meant to. She was going to be gone next week for Halloween. The first Hogsmeade weekend was on Halloween.
I grinned. It seemed I'd be going to Hogsmeade after all.
********
The next few days passed in a depressingly similar manner, minus the near- death experiences. It soon became clear that Pansy was planning revenge, so I was almost grateful that I now had an excuse to avoid the Common Room and thus Pansy's wrath. A plotting Slytherin is a dangerous thing.
Draco was also cooking something up, but it seemed to involve the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match that was coming up on Saturday. Still, it was best to avoid him just in case I was wrong.
Whatever free time I had left was spent in the library with Ryan. His influence must have corrupted my mind because I almost didn't care that I spent more time there than anywhere else.
Friday afternoon, I was once again in the library, futilely attempting to wade through my Ancient Runes assignment. Oh, the joy.
"'It is four... less... the room'... what the hell?" I grumbled, flipping through my Ancient Runes dictionary to locate the symbol in question. Finally finding it, I skimmed over the passage.
/n. room, quarters; quarter, as of an hour; adj. being one of four equal parts/
Ah, that made it /so/ much clearer. It's four less the quarter!
I was too busy glaring at my text, which I was convinced was being annoying on purpose, to notice Ryan approaching until he dropped an atrociously large book with a faded green cover on the table.
"I found it," Ryan said without preamble, looking very pleased with himself as he took a seat across from me.
"Found what?" I asked shortly, not really caring.
"The Order," he answered with a grin. "I think I found it."
My head snapped up, and I stared at him in surprise. "You're /joking./"
"I'm not, actually." Ryan carefully opened the tome and turned to a page near the back. "There," he said, pushing it across the table and pointing near the bottom of the page. "Read that."
Curious, I scanned the text.
/Not much is actually known about the Order of the Phoenix. It has been linked,
both directly and indirectly, to several outbreaks of violence over the years,
though it is unclear when or even why it was founded. Some scholars believe
it is a group of individuals who simply enjoy the killing, as some are wont to
do; others say the Order is merely a title that rebel terrorist groups take on
themselves to create the impression of greater precedence and scope. However,
there is no solid proof to confirm or deny these theories.
The earliest mention of the Order was in the early 16th century by Sir Alexander
of Cornwall (see page 329) and is painfully vague.../
It went on like that for several more paragraphs but didn't add anything useful. I looked up at Ryan, quite sure that I looked even paler than usual. "You think this is the Order the letter was talking about?"
Ryan nodded. "I've been through half the library, and this is the only thing I've found that makes sense."
I sighed and massaged my temples, trying to fend off a migraine. Why did these things always happen to me? "So Fae is somehow involved with a group of murdering sociopaths. Wonderful."
"That's the way it looks," Ryan said thoughtfully. "But I could be wrong. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of Orders out there. I just have to find it."
"I hope you're wrong, Ryan. I really hope you're wrong..."
********
A/N: *glances about nervously* Hello? *silence* HELLOOOOO? *echo... echo...* Damn it, I knew this chapter was taking too long. All my readers have disappeared! *starts crying, but quickly stops when a rotten apple is thrown at her head* WHOOHOO! There's a couple of them critters still alive, I reckon. Yee-ha!
I apologize for the unforgivably long time this took to finish, and you have full permission to stab me with poisoned sporks should you feel so inclined. I've spread myself a bit thin with all the crap I'm involved in, and I've lost my weekends to my job (DIE!) so that cuts into my writing time a lot. I think the next chapter will be out A LOT sooner, though. I've already started it and I actually know where I'm going with it. *gasp!* It's a miracle!
Anyway, in an effort to get this chapter out a bit sooner, I won't be responding to each review this time, but I'll respond to a few of the questions and/or comments that I noticed. Thanks for being so patient with me and for all the encouraging reviews!
--What's Hermione's problem with Blaise?
The main reason Hermione started disliking Blaise was because he committed the cardinal sin: he insulted dear old Crookshanks, which is right up there with making fun of Ron and vandalizing textbooks. She continues disliking him because, quite frankly, he's annoying as hell.
--Dude, where'd your plot go?
The main plot has taken a backseat to Blaise's personal life in the past few chapters, but now it's back with a burning vengence (um... yeah). It should continue happily along unless I get blind-sided by another flying plot bunny.
--Heehee, you should put this under 'humor'!
As amusing as you may find this, I don't think it fits as 'humor'. Why? Because all the humor stories I've seen have summaries like "d00d, wouldnt it be kewl if ever1 in hoggwarts suddnly went gay?" and "It's Hogwarts: the Musical! Show-stopping numbers abound! It's REALLY REALLY funny! Really! Laugh, damn you!" Somehow, I don't see this story fitting in too well. The other stories would make fun of it and call it names, and it'd come home with an inferiority complex and I'd have to pay for the psychiatrist bill. It's just so much simpler this way.
--Hey, you should put more Ginny in here, you know. *nudgenudgewinkwink* Maybe she'll let something slip about the Order?
There will be more Ginny later. Not sure exactly how much later, but later. Also, even if she knew about the Order, I don't think she'd let anything slip. She's a smart girl, even if she is going out with a prat. *grumbles something about disgracing Ravenclaws*
--*tapping foot impatiently* Hello?! Update! *raises spork threateningly*
I'm sorry! I went through four or five drafts of this thing before I got something that didn't rub me the wrong way. I didn't want to post crap. The next one will be a lot longer, I swear! *sobs* I'm so /sorry/...
Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed and stuck around for this chapter. *gazes adoringly at reviewers, but in an entirely non-creepy, un- stalker-like way*
I yawned widely, which earned me an exasperated glance from Fae. Had I been in a better mood, I may have actually cared. My day had started on a record low and had been going downhill from there. Draco was pointedly ignoring me, which was the main cause of my ill humor, and Pansy was being unusually cold. This wouldn't have been a problem, really, but Pansy seemed to think she had something to prove, so she went out of her way to bug the hell out of me.
To top it all off, I was bored out of my mind. True, Fae's lessons were more interesting than most of our previous Defense teachers' had been, and since my aunt didn't believe in textbooks, we hardly ever had homework. None of this, however, made lectures any more bearable. All I could do was count down the minutes till the bell rang so I could shuffle off to my next class and start the process over again. Such are the joys of being a student.
My day, which was already going wonderfully, got even better when Fae returned her attention to the board and began explaining how the counter- curse worked. Once she wasn't looking our way, a small ball of parchment flew across the room and bounced off the side of my desk. It was followed moments later by another.
Instead of looking around to see who'd thrown it--really, I'd have to be exceptionally stupid not to know already--I picked up one of the crumpled balls and hid it under my desk. I muttered a few words and tapped it with my wand, ignoring a bit of parchment that narrowly missed my head. Smirking, I checked to be sure Fae was busy scribbling on the board, then flung the thing back to the desk Pansy and Cassandra were sharing.
The ball flew across the room in a graceful arc, landing on directly on top of a stack of parchment, which immediately burst into flames. Pansy squealed, successfully attracting the attention of the entire class, and attempted to beat the flames out with her sleeve. All this accomplished was setting her robes on fire. Stupid girl.
Pansy jumped up, knocking her chair over in the process, and tried to put out the flames by flapping her arm wildly, looking rather like a disabled bird trying to fly. It would have been exceptionally funny had Millicent and Cassandra not been screaming like a banshees, giving me a horrible headache.
Quite suddenly, the flames were extinguished by a jet of water, which effectively drenched everything within a five-foot radius of Pansy. The girl stopped jumping around quite suddenly, the cold water shocking her into stillness. She seemed to be stunned. It's not every day you get set on fire, I suppose.
Unfortunately, she knew exactly who was responsible. Her slightly unfocussed gaze locked on me, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
Oh dear.
At the front of the room, Fae slowly lowered her wand. "Are you all right, Miss Parkinson?"
Pansy glared at me a second more before answering. "Yes, I'm fine, Professor. Just a little wet," she said, indicating her still dripping robes.
Fae nodded. "You may go to your dorm and change if you'd like, Miss Parkinson. I'll have someone bring your things to your next class."
"Thank you, Professor." Soaked to the skin and scorched slightly, Pansy marched out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster, considering the circumstances. That didn't make her look any less ridiculous, however.
An uneasy silence settled on the class as the door clicked shut once more. I didn't dare look behind me to see Draco's reaction. However, this left me no choice but to face the front where Fae was looking decidedly pissed.
"Mister Zabini," she said curtly. "I'd like to see you after class, if you don't mind."
I swallowed hard, realizing that I was in very serious trouble.
The rest of class passed without incident, though the bell sounded much sooner than I'd have liked. Fae, not caring that class was officially over, yelled over the commotion of students hastily stuffing their things back into their bags. "I want three feet of parchment on the Effacius Curse. Miss Bulstrode, mind that you write in a somewhat reasonable size this time. I'd hardly call four sentences a proper essay."
Fae waited until the rest of the students had left, then closed the door quietly behind them. "I was under the impression that Slytherins were intelligent," she said dryly, leaning against her desk and crossing her arms. "I'm hoping you're the exception to the rule."
"Fae--"
"Don't 'Fae' me, Blaise," she snapped. "This is getting ridiculous. You're fifteen, and yet I still find myself baby-sitting you. Why is that, do you suppose?"
Regardless of what Fae may think of my intelligence, I was not stupid enough to answer.
"Blaise, if you carry on like this, you're liable to be expelled sooner or later," Fae continued. "The only thing that's saved you so far is there hasn't been enough proof to nail anything on you. Eventually, your luck will run out and you'll have a hell of a lot of explaining to do."
She paused for a moment, apparently expecting some sort of response or apology. When I failed to oblige, she sighed and went on. "Personally, I'm tired of chasing you around, trying to get you to behave in a somewhat decent manner. Now, I'd normally take points for this type of blatant disregard for the rules, but I'd like to see Slytherin in the running for the House Cup, at the very least, and I fear if I dock points every time you do something stupid, we'll end up in the negatives. Therefore, I'll skip that part and give you detention instead."
I almost sighed in relief, then had a sudden thought. "Er... who will these be with?"
Fae grinned evilly. "Me, of course. I want to make sure you're properly punished."
I groaned and let my head fall against the desk. That woman thrives off the pain of others, I swear.
My wonderful aunt just laughed at me. "Oh, come on. You didn't think I'd let you off easy, did you? You'll report to my office /precisely/ at seven each night for the rest of the week, plus the Monday after next."
"I hate you," I grumbled, my voice somewhat muffled by the desk.
"Sorry, didn't catch that," Fae said cheerfully. "What did you say?"
I raised my head to glare mildly at her. "I said, 'why are you giving me next week off?'"
"It's Halloween," she said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. At my blank stare, she rolled her eyes and elaborated. "Halloween, Blaise. Only the busiest time of entire year. Ghouls, ghosts, and undead creatures. Any of that ring a bell?"
This, of course, left me feeling extremely stupid. She was a Slayer, after all, and Halloween always brought out an unusually high number of dark creatures, though whether it was simply because of tradition or some magical significance, I couldn't say.
"Oh."
"'Oh' is right," she said flatly. "I have previous engagements that require my attention. I'll be leaving on Monday and will probably be gone until Sunday at the latest. If, by chance, I'm kept longer than that, we'll reschedule your remaining detention once I get back."
"Well, /that's/ a relief," I said sarcastically. "I'd have lost a lot of sleep over that one if you hadn't cleared it up."
"That's what I'm here for," Fae replied. "Now, unless I'm mistaken, you have a class to get to, and I have a bunch of seventh-years who are missing their Defense."
Scowling, I shoved my things into my bag and stood to leave.
"Wait a second," Fae said suddenly. She scribbled a bit on a piece a parchment and shoved it into my hands, then pushed my lightly toward the door. "Go on, get out of here."
I was more than happy to oblige, shoving past a small crowd of Hufflepuffs that had congregated outside the door. Several shot me curious looks, but I ignored them and continued on my way.
Rounding a corner, I unclenched my fist and skimmed over the parchment Fae had given me, my anger slowly ebbing away. She'd given me a pass for my next class so I wouldn't get in trouble. I suppose even Fae could be decent if she tried.
Of course, it wasn't until I was nearly to the Ancient Runes classroom that I realized that she'd given me something much better, even if she hadn't meant to. She was going to be gone next week for Halloween. The first Hogsmeade weekend was on Halloween.
I grinned. It seemed I'd be going to Hogsmeade after all.
********
The next few days passed in a depressingly similar manner, minus the near- death experiences. It soon became clear that Pansy was planning revenge, so I was almost grateful that I now had an excuse to avoid the Common Room and thus Pansy's wrath. A plotting Slytherin is a dangerous thing.
Draco was also cooking something up, but it seemed to involve the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match that was coming up on Saturday. Still, it was best to avoid him just in case I was wrong.
Whatever free time I had left was spent in the library with Ryan. His influence must have corrupted my mind because I almost didn't care that I spent more time there than anywhere else.
Friday afternoon, I was once again in the library, futilely attempting to wade through my Ancient Runes assignment. Oh, the joy.
"'It is four... less... the room'... what the hell?" I grumbled, flipping through my Ancient Runes dictionary to locate the symbol in question. Finally finding it, I skimmed over the passage.
/n. room, quarters; quarter, as of an hour; adj. being one of four equal parts/
Ah, that made it /so/ much clearer. It's four less the quarter!
I was too busy glaring at my text, which I was convinced was being annoying on purpose, to notice Ryan approaching until he dropped an atrociously large book with a faded green cover on the table.
"I found it," Ryan said without preamble, looking very pleased with himself as he took a seat across from me.
"Found what?" I asked shortly, not really caring.
"The Order," he answered with a grin. "I think I found it."
My head snapped up, and I stared at him in surprise. "You're /joking./"
"I'm not, actually." Ryan carefully opened the tome and turned to a page near the back. "There," he said, pushing it across the table and pointing near the bottom of the page. "Read that."
Curious, I scanned the text.
/Not much is actually known about the Order of the Phoenix. It has been linked,
both directly and indirectly, to several outbreaks of violence over the years,
though it is unclear when or even why it was founded. Some scholars believe
it is a group of individuals who simply enjoy the killing, as some are wont to
do; others say the Order is merely a title that rebel terrorist groups take on
themselves to create the impression of greater precedence and scope. However,
there is no solid proof to confirm or deny these theories.
The earliest mention of the Order was in the early 16th century by Sir Alexander
of Cornwall (see page 329) and is painfully vague.../
It went on like that for several more paragraphs but didn't add anything useful. I looked up at Ryan, quite sure that I looked even paler than usual. "You think this is the Order the letter was talking about?"
Ryan nodded. "I've been through half the library, and this is the only thing I've found that makes sense."
I sighed and massaged my temples, trying to fend off a migraine. Why did these things always happen to me? "So Fae is somehow involved with a group of murdering sociopaths. Wonderful."
"That's the way it looks," Ryan said thoughtfully. "But I could be wrong. I mean, I'm sure there are plenty of Orders out there. I just have to find it."
"I hope you're wrong, Ryan. I really hope you're wrong..."
********
A/N: *glances about nervously* Hello? *silence* HELLOOOOO? *echo... echo...* Damn it, I knew this chapter was taking too long. All my readers have disappeared! *starts crying, but quickly stops when a rotten apple is thrown at her head* WHOOHOO! There's a couple of them critters still alive, I reckon. Yee-ha!
I apologize for the unforgivably long time this took to finish, and you have full permission to stab me with poisoned sporks should you feel so inclined. I've spread myself a bit thin with all the crap I'm involved in, and I've lost my weekends to my job (DIE!) so that cuts into my writing time a lot. I think the next chapter will be out A LOT sooner, though. I've already started it and I actually know where I'm going with it. *gasp!* It's a miracle!
Anyway, in an effort to get this chapter out a bit sooner, I won't be responding to each review this time, but I'll respond to a few of the questions and/or comments that I noticed. Thanks for being so patient with me and for all the encouraging reviews!
--What's Hermione's problem with Blaise?
The main reason Hermione started disliking Blaise was because he committed the cardinal sin: he insulted dear old Crookshanks, which is right up there with making fun of Ron and vandalizing textbooks. She continues disliking him because, quite frankly, he's annoying as hell.
--Dude, where'd your plot go?
The main plot has taken a backseat to Blaise's personal life in the past few chapters, but now it's back with a burning vengence (um... yeah). It should continue happily along unless I get blind-sided by another flying plot bunny.
--Heehee, you should put this under 'humor'!
As amusing as you may find this, I don't think it fits as 'humor'. Why? Because all the humor stories I've seen have summaries like "d00d, wouldnt it be kewl if ever1 in hoggwarts suddnly went gay?" and "It's Hogwarts: the Musical! Show-stopping numbers abound! It's REALLY REALLY funny! Really! Laugh, damn you!" Somehow, I don't see this story fitting in too well. The other stories would make fun of it and call it names, and it'd come home with an inferiority complex and I'd have to pay for the psychiatrist bill. It's just so much simpler this way.
--Hey, you should put more Ginny in here, you know. *nudgenudgewinkwink* Maybe she'll let something slip about the Order?
There will be more Ginny later. Not sure exactly how much later, but later. Also, even if she knew about the Order, I don't think she'd let anything slip. She's a smart girl, even if she is going out with a prat. *grumbles something about disgracing Ravenclaws*
--*tapping foot impatiently* Hello?! Update! *raises spork threateningly*
I'm sorry! I went through four or five drafts of this thing before I got something that didn't rub me the wrong way. I didn't want to post crap. The next one will be a lot longer, I swear! *sobs* I'm so /sorry/...
Once again, thank you to everyone who reviewed and stuck around for this chapter. *gazes adoringly at reviewers, but in an entirely non-creepy, un- stalker-like way*