Chapter 6, Detention
By Marmalade Fever
Monday morning rolled in and Harry and Hermione were sitting together at the staff table eating breakfast. The morning mail was just coming in with the rustle of a hundred wings. Two unfamiliar pure white owls had alighted in front of them, each with an identical ivory envelope attached to its leg. Looking around, Harry noticed that many of these same white owls had landed elsewhere. The nearest of the owls had his name on its envelope and he took it. A very glossy looking card fell out. Hermione was holding an identical one.
Mr. and Mrs. Barlodrone Abbott and Mr. and Mrs. Conrad Macmillan are proud to invite you and a guest to the joining of their children, Hannah Louise Abbott and Ernest Robert Macmillan in holy matrimony on Sunday the 22nd of October in the Chapel of Greenery at ten of the clock of this year. Please reply with return owl as well as a statement of whether you would prefer chicken, fish, steak, or eggplant. Thank you.
"THEIR GETTING MARRIED?" Hermione said in a tone of utmost horror.
"I know," Harry said, "scary thought, eh?"
"Extremely!" she said, but then calmed herself. "I suppose we should reply then." She grabbed a piece of parchment and quill out of a bag and wrote that she and Harry would both come and that they would both prefer chicken.
"Want to be my guest?" Harry asked.
"Sure," Hermione said, attaching the reply onto the leg of one of the owls, which flew off. "Aren't they a little young? You know, to be getting married?"
"Probably, but they have been friends for ages now, and they've been dating the last few years," Harry said, calmly. Despite his efforts to comfort Hermione, his own head was reeling. Surely, they were too young to be getting married, right? Right? He only hoped this wouldn't give her any funny ideas... about them.
"I've got a detention with lover-boy tonight," Harry informed Hermione. For some odd reason, neither of them had of yet been able to figure out his name.
"Goody," Hermione said sarcastically. The boy had been given so many detentions now that each teacher had agreed to take him in turn, so that no one had to deal with him for so long. Professor Flitwick leaned in.
"Hermione, would you be so kind as to pass the maple syrup? Thank you. So, Harry, you say you have a detention with that boy?" He looked around to make sure no one was listening. "He's simply ghastly. I had a few detentions with him last week, and, in the process, he earned himself another seventeen! I don't like speaking ill of people, but if he doesn't shape up, it might be time for Dumbledore to consider expulsion."
Harry nodded. As someone who had had many close-calls when it came to expulsion, he was reluctant to send even the worst student packing...but this kid was horrid. It sounded to him like the staff would be wasting its time every night trying to get the boy to understand for the next three years. Even Snape had secretly confided with other professors that he loathed the boy, and he was the head of his house! At this rate, Slytherin would easily lose the house cup, leaving either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor in first place. That, at least, was reason enough to keep the little pill.
Once again it was his day for class with the Hufflepuff third-years, N.E.W.T. seventh years, and Gryffindor first years. The Hufflepuffs were still a little odd. The two boys who had been stunned his first day seemed downright afraid of him. Betty, on the other hand, just kept staring up at him, occasionally raising her hand with an out-of-topic question. The N.E.W.T. students were doing great, though. Luna Lovegood and Ginny were so good at Defense that they were able to defend themselves from some of the worst jinxes Harry sent their way. He was sure though, that if he was to show his real power, neither of them would survive. Last year, at their age, he had been nearly as advanced as Dumbledore himself, and that was saying something. His professor had been almost afraid to call on him. The Gryffindor first years were amazingly easy to teach. They only learned the most basic pieces to the big puzzle that was defense against the dark arts. Harry's largest problems with them was trying to get them to speak loud enough and hold their wands correctly. Try as he might, he could barely remember what Quirrel had taught his first year class.
After dinner with Hermione Harry went to his office to await the arrival of the Slytherin boy. Not surprisingly, he was nearly a quarter hour late. "Okay," Harry said as the boy finally ambled in, hair an odd shade of lime green, "follow me." Harry led the kid outdoors and into the night. They went past the lake, past the Quidditch pitch, and along the borders of the forest. At last they reached a place Harry had only discovered last year. It was a very secluded area, completely circular, with an outline made of small clusters of fairy lights. "Stand in there," Harry commanded. When the boy did not move, Harry took out his wand and levitated the boy in. "What do you see?" he asked.
"Bunch of trees your gitness, sir," the boy said, dully. Suddenly though, he went rigid. He stared avidly at what seemed only a patch of ground. He reached for his wand and pointed it at the spot. He aimed, and shouted "Stupify," and a pearly substance shot out of his wand, hit the spot he was staring at, bounced, went up into the sky, bounced again, and bounced onto the boy. He fell backward and onto his head.
"Ennervate," Harry muttered, pointing to him. The boy stood up again, shaking. He was crawling slowly backward, away from the patch of ground. Suddenly, he stopped, turned around and sped off in another direction, only to let out an inhuman cry.
"Let me out!" he shouted at Harry, ramming an invisible wall.
"Another hour," Harry said, "and perhaps you'll learn your lesson." This was a place where your worst fears seemed to come true. The only thing stopping the boy from leaving was his fear that he couldn't leave. In reality, he couldn't be hurt by anything in there, except himself. After all, he was the only real thing in there. However, if Harry went in, the spell would immediately end. Instead, this place would become the perfect dueling arena. A thousand years ago, this ring had been used by sorcerers to battle, and the loser would be left inside, with only his fears to hold him captive. Once leaving, no one could remember what they had encountered, only that they must pay allegiance and obedience to the victor or else terrible things would befall them. At the end of the hour, Harry was going to duel this boy, and upon winning, the boy would hopefully be a bit more obedient.
The screams were dying into short sobs now and it was time for Harry to enter. He bowed respectfully to the fairies and walked in. The sobs ended abruptly and the boy stood up from where he had been sitting, holding his knees.
"And now," Harry said firmly, "we duel." The boy raised his eyebrow, but got out his wand, nonetheless. They bowed, walked away and turned around. "One...two...three..." Harry muttered. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted. The boy and his wand went flying, but did not land outside the limits of the ring. The boy grabbed it and before he could say a curse, Harry used a handy little jinx that made the opponent feel dizzy and disoriented without bothering to turn him in circles.
"Pimblebimimble," the boy said, trying to curse Harry, but not making any sense. A second later he tried again. "P--" But Harry was too fast and drew a shield around himself while, at the same time, sending the boy's wand flying. He went running after it while Harry prepared for his next attack. This was too easy.
"Reversi milo!" Harry shouted, and a million separate invisible hands pushed the boy back to where he had been ten seconds before, wand still far away. He ran for it, and as soon as he had got hold of it, shouted "stupify" at Harry. The spell passed by Harry like a gentle wind, his joints froze momentarily, but he kept going.
"Partiflaxo!" Harry shouted, and the boy began to vainly pat himself, thinking himself to be unrobed.
"Serpensorcia!" the boy shouted, and for the third time in his life, a snake crawled out of a wand, straight toward Harry. The boy suddenly seemed to realize that this was a grave mistake, remembering that Harry was said to be a parselmouth.
"I'd love to have a chat," Harry said, not letting on, "but..." and he reduced the snake to the size of a worm, picked him up, transfigured a rock into a jar, put the miniscule snake in, and tucked it inside his robes. The boy looked at Harry as if he were a madman and threw a jelly legs curse at him. Harry's legs trembled slightly, but he willed it away and nothing happened.
"I surrender!" the boy shouted, eyes bulging at Harry's ability to throw off a curse like that.
"Very well," Harry said. He led the way out of the ring and the boy followed, head hanging. After about ten minutes Harry spoke again. "Follow the school rules, keep your nose out of trouble, listen to your conscience. Understand?"
"Yes sir," the boy said, sounding deflated.
"Now," Harry said, "tell me what your name is."
There was short pause. "I don't have a name sir."
Harry stopped and turned. "No name? Why not?"
"She never gave me one."
"She? Who are you talking about?"
"Her."
"Your mother, maybe?" Harry tried. It was no use though, he wouldn't say anything more. Harry took him back up to the castle and then went back up to his office to go to bed. He groaned. There was a very large stack of papers to correct. He checked his watch. It was only 11:30. He decided that he'd really rather get up early than tackle the stack tonight, so he slipped into his bedroom. As he closed his door a blinding pain came to his forehead. It was so painful, in fact, that Harry was forced to his knees.
"No," Harry said to himself. "NO!" He crawled into his bathroom and gaped at his reflection in the mirror. His scar was glowing, pink and perfectly formed. "No, no, no, no, NO!" Harry shouted. Hands trembling, he pulled the jar from the inside of his robes and opened the lid. "What's your name?" he asked the snake, forcefully.
"Bernard," it hissed back into the stillness of the room. All went black around Harry.
A.N.: Cliff hanger! Ooh, this chapter was good! Thanks Peanut Butter for sending me that email, asking if I was going to continue. If I don't get reviews, I don't think that there's a purpose for continuing. I know you peeps are out there! Also, I only get a chance to write on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Also, I hope Vampire Story Hunter read this, it should make him/her happier.
By Marmalade Fever
Monday morning rolled in and Harry and Hermione were sitting together at the staff table eating breakfast. The morning mail was just coming in with the rustle of a hundred wings. Two unfamiliar pure white owls had alighted in front of them, each with an identical ivory envelope attached to its leg. Looking around, Harry noticed that many of these same white owls had landed elsewhere. The nearest of the owls had his name on its envelope and he took it. A very glossy looking card fell out. Hermione was holding an identical one.
Mr. and Mrs. Barlodrone Abbott and Mr. and Mrs. Conrad Macmillan are proud to invite you and a guest to the joining of their children, Hannah Louise Abbott and Ernest Robert Macmillan in holy matrimony on Sunday the 22nd of October in the Chapel of Greenery at ten of the clock of this year. Please reply with return owl as well as a statement of whether you would prefer chicken, fish, steak, or eggplant. Thank you.
"THEIR GETTING MARRIED?" Hermione said in a tone of utmost horror.
"I know," Harry said, "scary thought, eh?"
"Extremely!" she said, but then calmed herself. "I suppose we should reply then." She grabbed a piece of parchment and quill out of a bag and wrote that she and Harry would both come and that they would both prefer chicken.
"Want to be my guest?" Harry asked.
"Sure," Hermione said, attaching the reply onto the leg of one of the owls, which flew off. "Aren't they a little young? You know, to be getting married?"
"Probably, but they have been friends for ages now, and they've been dating the last few years," Harry said, calmly. Despite his efforts to comfort Hermione, his own head was reeling. Surely, they were too young to be getting married, right? Right? He only hoped this wouldn't give her any funny ideas... about them.
"I've got a detention with lover-boy tonight," Harry informed Hermione. For some odd reason, neither of them had of yet been able to figure out his name.
"Goody," Hermione said sarcastically. The boy had been given so many detentions now that each teacher had agreed to take him in turn, so that no one had to deal with him for so long. Professor Flitwick leaned in.
"Hermione, would you be so kind as to pass the maple syrup? Thank you. So, Harry, you say you have a detention with that boy?" He looked around to make sure no one was listening. "He's simply ghastly. I had a few detentions with him last week, and, in the process, he earned himself another seventeen! I don't like speaking ill of people, but if he doesn't shape up, it might be time for Dumbledore to consider expulsion."
Harry nodded. As someone who had had many close-calls when it came to expulsion, he was reluctant to send even the worst student packing...but this kid was horrid. It sounded to him like the staff would be wasting its time every night trying to get the boy to understand for the next three years. Even Snape had secretly confided with other professors that he loathed the boy, and he was the head of his house! At this rate, Slytherin would easily lose the house cup, leaving either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor in first place. That, at least, was reason enough to keep the little pill.
Once again it was his day for class with the Hufflepuff third-years, N.E.W.T. seventh years, and Gryffindor first years. The Hufflepuffs were still a little odd. The two boys who had been stunned his first day seemed downright afraid of him. Betty, on the other hand, just kept staring up at him, occasionally raising her hand with an out-of-topic question. The N.E.W.T. students were doing great, though. Luna Lovegood and Ginny were so good at Defense that they were able to defend themselves from some of the worst jinxes Harry sent their way. He was sure though, that if he was to show his real power, neither of them would survive. Last year, at their age, he had been nearly as advanced as Dumbledore himself, and that was saying something. His professor had been almost afraid to call on him. The Gryffindor first years were amazingly easy to teach. They only learned the most basic pieces to the big puzzle that was defense against the dark arts. Harry's largest problems with them was trying to get them to speak loud enough and hold their wands correctly. Try as he might, he could barely remember what Quirrel had taught his first year class.
After dinner with Hermione Harry went to his office to await the arrival of the Slytherin boy. Not surprisingly, he was nearly a quarter hour late. "Okay," Harry said as the boy finally ambled in, hair an odd shade of lime green, "follow me." Harry led the kid outdoors and into the night. They went past the lake, past the Quidditch pitch, and along the borders of the forest. At last they reached a place Harry had only discovered last year. It was a very secluded area, completely circular, with an outline made of small clusters of fairy lights. "Stand in there," Harry commanded. When the boy did not move, Harry took out his wand and levitated the boy in. "What do you see?" he asked.
"Bunch of trees your gitness, sir," the boy said, dully. Suddenly though, he went rigid. He stared avidly at what seemed only a patch of ground. He reached for his wand and pointed it at the spot. He aimed, and shouted "Stupify," and a pearly substance shot out of his wand, hit the spot he was staring at, bounced, went up into the sky, bounced again, and bounced onto the boy. He fell backward and onto his head.
"Ennervate," Harry muttered, pointing to him. The boy stood up again, shaking. He was crawling slowly backward, away from the patch of ground. Suddenly, he stopped, turned around and sped off in another direction, only to let out an inhuman cry.
"Let me out!" he shouted at Harry, ramming an invisible wall.
"Another hour," Harry said, "and perhaps you'll learn your lesson." This was a place where your worst fears seemed to come true. The only thing stopping the boy from leaving was his fear that he couldn't leave. In reality, he couldn't be hurt by anything in there, except himself. After all, he was the only real thing in there. However, if Harry went in, the spell would immediately end. Instead, this place would become the perfect dueling arena. A thousand years ago, this ring had been used by sorcerers to battle, and the loser would be left inside, with only his fears to hold him captive. Once leaving, no one could remember what they had encountered, only that they must pay allegiance and obedience to the victor or else terrible things would befall them. At the end of the hour, Harry was going to duel this boy, and upon winning, the boy would hopefully be a bit more obedient.
The screams were dying into short sobs now and it was time for Harry to enter. He bowed respectfully to the fairies and walked in. The sobs ended abruptly and the boy stood up from where he had been sitting, holding his knees.
"And now," Harry said firmly, "we duel." The boy raised his eyebrow, but got out his wand, nonetheless. They bowed, walked away and turned around. "One...two...three..." Harry muttered. "Expelliarmus!" he shouted. The boy and his wand went flying, but did not land outside the limits of the ring. The boy grabbed it and before he could say a curse, Harry used a handy little jinx that made the opponent feel dizzy and disoriented without bothering to turn him in circles.
"Pimblebimimble," the boy said, trying to curse Harry, but not making any sense. A second later he tried again. "P--" But Harry was too fast and drew a shield around himself while, at the same time, sending the boy's wand flying. He went running after it while Harry prepared for his next attack. This was too easy.
"Reversi milo!" Harry shouted, and a million separate invisible hands pushed the boy back to where he had been ten seconds before, wand still far away. He ran for it, and as soon as he had got hold of it, shouted "stupify" at Harry. The spell passed by Harry like a gentle wind, his joints froze momentarily, but he kept going.
"Partiflaxo!" Harry shouted, and the boy began to vainly pat himself, thinking himself to be unrobed.
"Serpensorcia!" the boy shouted, and for the third time in his life, a snake crawled out of a wand, straight toward Harry. The boy suddenly seemed to realize that this was a grave mistake, remembering that Harry was said to be a parselmouth.
"I'd love to have a chat," Harry said, not letting on, "but..." and he reduced the snake to the size of a worm, picked him up, transfigured a rock into a jar, put the miniscule snake in, and tucked it inside his robes. The boy looked at Harry as if he were a madman and threw a jelly legs curse at him. Harry's legs trembled slightly, but he willed it away and nothing happened.
"I surrender!" the boy shouted, eyes bulging at Harry's ability to throw off a curse like that.
"Very well," Harry said. He led the way out of the ring and the boy followed, head hanging. After about ten minutes Harry spoke again. "Follow the school rules, keep your nose out of trouble, listen to your conscience. Understand?"
"Yes sir," the boy said, sounding deflated.
"Now," Harry said, "tell me what your name is."
There was short pause. "I don't have a name sir."
Harry stopped and turned. "No name? Why not?"
"She never gave me one."
"She? Who are you talking about?"
"Her."
"Your mother, maybe?" Harry tried. It was no use though, he wouldn't say anything more. Harry took him back up to the castle and then went back up to his office to go to bed. He groaned. There was a very large stack of papers to correct. He checked his watch. It was only 11:30. He decided that he'd really rather get up early than tackle the stack tonight, so he slipped into his bedroom. As he closed his door a blinding pain came to his forehead. It was so painful, in fact, that Harry was forced to his knees.
"No," Harry said to himself. "NO!" He crawled into his bathroom and gaped at his reflection in the mirror. His scar was glowing, pink and perfectly formed. "No, no, no, no, NO!" Harry shouted. Hands trembling, he pulled the jar from the inside of his robes and opened the lid. "What's your name?" he asked the snake, forcefully.
"Bernard," it hissed back into the stillness of the room. All went black around Harry.
A.N.: Cliff hanger! Ooh, this chapter was good! Thanks Peanut Butter for sending me that email, asking if I was going to continue. If I don't get reviews, I don't think that there's a purpose for continuing. I know you peeps are out there! Also, I only get a chance to write on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Also, I hope Vampire Story Hunter read this, it should make him/her happier.