And here my readers is Drum roll please CHAPTER 2! (finally I know)
o.o.o.o.o
Calvin continued punching the tip of his quill through the star chart. He hated Thursdays they were late enough in the week to be close to the weekend, but always just too far away. He was dreadfully bored and had no interest whatsoever in the current location of the Alphacenturai star belt. The tip of the quill bent back, and the brittle material snapped. Blast! He chucked it under the table and rummaged through the morass of papers and notebooks that filled his schoolbag.
"Bugger it all." Calvin muttered, showering the empty bench around him with balled up bits of notepaper. "Excuse me! Professor Lindle… Do you by any chance a spare quill I could use. Mine's packed it in." He called, emerging from his bag. Professor Lindle looked up from the student she was assisting, nodded and glided toward her desk..
Clarisse Lindle was a slender, statuesque woman; a classic beauty. Her long blonde hair was coifed elegantly in a simple bun. In her mid 20's, she was young for a professor, but had taken the job when Professor Sinistra retired.
She surfaced from one of the drawers in her desk holding a slender swan's feather quill. Her flowing teal robes whipped around the corner of the long table as she crossed the room towards Calvin. She was stunning and Calvin knew it.
She handed him the quill and picked up his star chart. As she perused his arbitrary squiggles, her brow furrowed. "Mr. O'Toole. I believe that if you spent a 3rd of the time you spend ogling the young women in my class applying yourself to your work you might actually obtain an O in this class. But as it is…" Her voice trailed off with a slightly disappointed lilt.
"The only stars I'm interested in are in your eyes…. Professor" Calvin said an arrogantly smug smile on his face. Calvin watched as Professor Lindle contemplated him silently. What was she thinking? He actually thought he saw the glimmerings of a twinkle in those blue eyes.
"Mr. O'Toole I believe you will be serving detention after school today."
"Another one of our special times eh?" Calvin said, thoroughly unperturbed.
"Yes, I'm sure Mr. Filch will appreciate your assistance." She replied with a cool smile.
Calvin groaned. This would be his 3rd detention with filch this month. The old git really seemed to reap a twisted pleasure from torturing students with the most belittling tasks he could devise. Calvin laid his head down on the table before him and groaned again.
o.o.o.o.o
A sharp pain brought Calvin back to his senses. He jumped and slapped the back of his neck; the site of the offending sensation. A loud squawk, a skirmish of brownish feathers and a clatter of claws ensued. Freggers, the O'Toole family owl, sat on Calvin's star-chart looking highly disgruntled. "Ugh! Where'd you drop from?" Calvin said, slightly bleary-eyed after his napping. Why did that owl's entrances always have to be painful? He snatched the parchment strapped to Freggers' leg and received a reproachful peck. "Sulky animal!" Calvin spat, shooing the bird off of his work.
He couldn't stand the thing. Freggers had given him the creeps since he was a kid. The owl had an infuriating habit of just staring at you with its big filmy eyes. Calvin shuddered.
"Mr. O'Toole." Professor Lindle's voice rang across the room.
"Yes Professor"
"You are not allowed to receive owls in class, dismiss the bird or I will be forced to assign you yet another detention." Her tone was flat and clear.
"Yes, ma'am. But only because it's you." Calvin winked at her and signaled Freggers to get lost. The owl waddled to the edge of the table, hooted gloomily and flopped head first towards the floor. He recovered himself at the last moment and swooped out the high window.
Calvin tugged open the leather binding of his letter and unrolled it. "Joy and happiness! News from mummy." Calvin trilled sarcastically. He figured that it would be better to get it over with and began to read.
Dear Calvin,
Your father and I are sure that your year is going wonderfully and hope you are putting your every effort into your studies. I am sorry to take you away from your work, but it is my duty as your mother to provide council to you at this point in your life.
"Oh yeah?" Calvin said, his eyebrows raised. "Here she goes again". His mother was, needless to say, very "concerned", her mission in life was to preen Calvin into the perfect Ministry wizard. As far as she was concerned his path in life was set. He would ingratiate himself with the ministry, which in her opinion was the ultimate repository of all knowledge and wisdom, and become the ultimate businessman. He continued to read, dreading the upcoming sermon.
I am most disappointed to hear that the Ministry is still denied control of Hogwarts' education. Although I am informed that Ministry officials are to be present after your exams in the interest of inspecting the schools functions. I do hope that you will do your best to be in good standing with these wizards. They will stand you in good stead, but make certain that you do not do anything to, as it were, "rock the boat". In other words my son, take the path most trodden in the interest of one's own safety.
On the most important note of all; I must assure you that the ministry is in total control of the rumored situation. You need not worry about the conflict that is so much talked about. It is merely gossip started by that dreadful Potter child and substantiated only by a few futile riots and some unfortunate coincidences. The best your father and I can say is stay close to any ministry affiliates, keep their council and all will be well.
Your loving Mother,
Sylvia O'Toole
Calvin barely scanned the last of the letter. He crumpled it up and flipped it into his bag. His parents placed a pathological amount of trust in the ministry, but what could it hurt. The whole bit was rubbish. In Calvin's mind the threats and battles only registered vaguely. He racked it up to gossip. When rumors started to fly it was all interesting enough. For a few days the danger would seem exhilaratingly real and then it always faded out again.
Mum is onto something with that Potter kid though. Weasley and Granger to. Mental the lot of 'em. Calvin couldn't fathom those three. Thick as thieves with each other and McGonagall. Always up to their necks in plots and schemes, but he could not deny that something had changed since last year. The usual laughing threesome had become a tightly knit syndicate of something or another. And Potter…well he had become downright scary. He returned to school last August chased by some driving force. He was always serious now, intense, brooding even. Hardly ever noticed when he was spoken to, and seemed to spend half his time staring out into space as if looking for something. And he always had that deep, brooding, very slightly axe-murderish edge to him. Calvin couldn't take the mix. He didn't get it. So he never took much notice. What would be the point?
o.o.o.o.o
He glanced across the table to see Professor Lindle staring down at him. "Mr. O'Toole, do me a kindness and have the courtesy to at least look as if you are accomplishing something." She frowned pointedly at the wide-ranging doodles on the margin of his chart. "As you appear to be finished so soon I will take this as your grade for the day."
"Whatever you wish darling." Calvin said, leering.
Calvin checked his watch. There was still about 20 minutes left in this class. Glory be! Well there was nothing for it. He would be forced to sleep. Just as he laid his head down on the table he pulled it straight back up again.
Professor McGonagall's voice echoed, booming through the school.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, may I have your attention please. All students and staff will report immediately to the Great Hall. Classes are postponed for the meantime. All students and staff report to the Great Hall…now." And then silence.
A girl across the room squealed. Student's glanced at each other and whispered curiously.
"What do you suppose is up?"
"I dunno, but it won't be good news."
"More trouble. I thought the ministry said things were quieting down."
"Since when does that count? They haven't gotten a thing right since my 4th year. I mean to say…"
"Silence" The muttering ceased "Please leave your things here, you can come back for them later. We will proceed to the Great Hall as instructed." Professor Lindle walked to the door, opened it and gestured for the students to leave.
Calvin rushed past Professor Lindle making a beeline for the nearest of his various groupies. He slapped Marilyn Markisons rear as he jogged past her and was followed by giggles and insincere disapproval.
"And NO shenanigans in the halls Mr. O'Toole." Professor Lindle shouted from the door of her classroom. Calvin took a military–style about face, faced Professor Lindle, and through a smart salute. He then proceeded the march down the hall in imitation of a wind-up toy to gails of laughter from his classmates.
o.o.o.o.o
Through the soaring archways the Great Hall's ceiling reflected yet another brooding, stormy day. Throngs of students filed in through the double doors and took their seats. Anxious whispers echoed round the walls and students waited for someone to start talking. The staff huddled together around the headmistress's podium conversing in low tones.
The last of the students scuttled through the door followed by a tightlipped Professor McGonagall. She flicked her wand over her shoulder causing the large oaken doors to slam shut more violently than necessary. As students fell silent the only sounds in the hall were the murmurings of the staff and the rapid click of Professor McGonagall's heels.
"Ladies and gentlemen. I am sorry to remove you from your classes, but this is a necessary assembly." She paused, clearing her throat. Her eyes seemed strained, her face tight and drawn. "There's no point in beating about the bush, so here you have it. I regret to announce that there has been a mass attack in Hogsmeade. The village's defenses, which we were very confident of, have been utterly demolished. There were multiple lives lost." She paused, very slightly flustered. "Needless to say we will be tightening the school's security yet again." Groans were heard all around. "That will do. There is no point in telling you that everything will be fine, because as you can see it's not. We will release further information as to the new security measures soon, but for now please return to your classes." More groans. "I'll not have your education completely ruined by the circumstances. Dismissed." She finished, her thin lips pursed.
Calvin sat there not sure what to think. They must be exaggerating the situation. It was probably just another minor riot.
Professor McGonagall reappeared behind the podium. "Ahem. I have one last announcement before you return to your classes. The Hogsmeade attacks have left the village without resources or man power to discover the extant of the damage or to provide any remedy. Volunteers will be arriving to assist, but the more the better. Any student's wishing to volunteer please see either Professor Flitwick or myself before Saturday morning. Due to safety concerns, only 6th and 7th years will be allowed to go. You may return to your classes."
Was McGonagall completely batty? The rest of them could waste their Saturday digging through rubble, but he most certainly would not be going. It can't be as bad as all that. With an entirely wizard population they'll be completely recovered by Saturday. It's just another load of exaggerated bilge. Calvin mused.
He looked around hoping for something to hold him up until astronomy was over. He saw a grave-faced McGonagall walking toward a group of Hufflepuff girls. Calvin edged closer, curious.
Professor McGonagall, looking rather reluctant, tapped one of the Hufflepuff girls on the shoulder. "Miss. Zeller, might I have a word with you?"
"Yes, Professor?" Replied the girl, following McGonagall to one side.
"Miss Zeller. Rose. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this…during the attack…" She took a deep breath. "Your aunt, Madame Rosmerta, she's been killed." Rose Zeller stared blankly back. Her face began to crumple in a weird sort of way, and gradually, she began to sob. Professor McGonagall folded her awkwardly in her arms and gave her a quick squeeze.
Calvin watched, stunned, as Professor McGonagall, turned Rose Zeller over to a maternal looking Madame Pomphrey. "Here Poppy, take up to the Hospital wing and get her something to calm her down." Madame Pomphrey nodded and guided Rose Zeller away.
This wasn't right. People didn't die in this war. Well people died he supposed, but nobody that Calvin knew. He watched Rose Zeller's retreating back in disbelief. That girl's aunt had been killed in that attack. The pretty one with the sparkly shoes, the buxom blonde who ran the Three Broomsticks that all the guys made cracks about, but all secretly had crushes on. Calvin had liked her, she was genuine. He couldn't get his head round it.
Professor McGonagall's emerald green robes caught his attention. She was standing a few yards away conversing in low tones with the "hero squad" as he thought of them. He was just close enough to listen in.
"Professor, the attacks are getting nearer and nearer." Potter said.
"They're not just getting nearer to us, Harry. There's been more and more every week. Don't you read the paper?" Hermione interjected anxiously.
"Never. We're boycotting the Daily Prophet. Hey Professor, can we come on Saturday. I mean, despite prior engagements?" Ron asked eagerly.
"Well, you three would be useful and I know you'd like to help. I'll talk to Filius and we'll see if he can cover for you." McGonagall seemed to soften at their eagerness to help. "Get back to you classes."
The trio walked towards the door talking intently about something to do with some friend of there's. Moony was it? Now Calvin was sure they were Batty.
"I say, you three gonna save the wizarding world single-handedly again, or are you just going to resurrect a couple of people from the dead?" Calvin called, leaning his elbows on the table behind him.
"Why you…We don't… Don't ever joke about that... and … and…" Hermione blustered flailing her arms. "How could you… I've had about enough of your cheek. I… I'm leaving." She announced decisively and flounced out. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and hurried after her. Harry sighed and sat down on the bench next to Calvin. He held his forehead in his hands and messaged his temples.
"O'Toole, you just don't get it do you?" Harry said, looking Calvin steadily in the eyes.
"What's to get?" Calvin backed, shrugging and trying to look like this wasn't out of his depth.
"More than you know." Harry jibed. "This war is real, it's brutal, cruel, it's going to change the entire wizarding world for good or bad." He paused looking Calvin up and down intently. "For better or worse this fight is what we've been dealt. No one is going to survive this without taking sides." With that Harry stood and strode away, not without a twinge of satisfaction at the stunned look on Calvin's face.
Calvin's mind was one big blank. Slowly, inexorably the blank began to fill with he words the Potter kid had just said. They fit together in his mind like one of those annoying jigsaw puzzles you never really know what to do with when they're finished. He was having this really unpleasant urge to think about his position in all this. He prodded his conscience with the thought of a flattened Hogsmeade. No reaction, he couldn't grasp it. He tried a flattened Hogwarts. Nope, that was totally out of range. A flattened Zonko's. That hit home. Zonko's…flattened? Gone? His heart skipped a beat. If Zonko's was gone the world would never be right again.
Calvin sat at the table in the gradually emptying hall and mulled over things like loyalty, death, destruction, joke shops, ministry officials, Albus Dumbledore, and, unusual though it was, how he felt about all of the above. Suddenly, an immense urge to do something descended on him. He needed to do something, he didn't know what, but he needed to accomplish something. Somehow he thought it would help bring order out of the total chaos that Potter kid had created in his mind.
Potter! Jumping up, Calvin ran out of the great double doors and out into the Entrance hall. He happened to have his next class with Potter so he took the stairs two at a time and veered off towards History of Magic. He dodged Peeves, who was hurling thumbtacks at several ballerinas in a wall tapestry, and caught up with Harry outside Professor Bins' room.
"Oy, Potter!"
"Yeah." Harry said, slightly taken aback.
"How do you sign up for that thing on Friday, I mean Saturday. Sorry, I wasn't listening to McGonagall that closely."
o.o.o.o.o
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Can you believe it? I mean to say… How could it not be? Jus kiddin'. JKR, it's all yours.
Authors note: Well… I am very pleased with this chapter. I think I'm falling for my own creation though. I do love him so. I am sorry about the long delay on updating, but I have two age-old yet firm excuses. One, my computer hates me and deleted my document. Two, I have little siblings. Bleh! Anyways, thank you so much for reading and I will be eternally grateful if you review. And don't worry I am very open to criticism. Enjoy all of the wonderful Harry Potterness out there and now… after finally posting her second wonderful installment, exit our author stage right.
Chow,
Anne