Chapter 17
William Fawley's Bloating Son
The bright orange of the morning sun painted the sky as Perce awoke to the sounds of an anxious elf.
"Master must wake up, Master must wake up!" Toby tugged at the pillow. Perce simply grunted, shifting under the blanket.
"Master's father wants Master to wake up, Master must wake up! Toby doesn't want to wake Master, but Toby must do so, Toby has been ordered to do so! Master must wake up!"
Perce grunted again, muttering a muffled "Fine".
Doing so, he promptly went back to sleep and Toby repeated his cries. Perce was still in the sleepy haze, confusing his real world for a dream, not being in a position to analyse. Slowly, his thoughts collected themselves and the happenings of the previous evening struck him. They were to attend a — book fest? No, it was definitely a party — at the residence of Toby the hippogriff... Having arrived here, he slipped into his dreams again. The little house elf restarted his attempts to wake him.
Mr Jordan entered the room, neatly dressed in wizarding robes that enhanced his handsome features. He shook his head hopelessly at the elf's tireless efforts. He simply flourished his wand once in the air, and a gush of water erupted from it, to destroy the peace of the sleeping twelve-year-old. Toby stared in horror as Perce was drenched and the boy shot up like a spring released, looking around in fury. With another small wave of his father's wand, Perce was completely dry and his clothes produced a warmth like they were held in bright sunlight for an hour.
"Wake up, now." Mr Jordan was walking out as though nothing had occurred.
Perce stared indignantly. The poor elf slowly trotted out and Perce was left to give outraged grunts to the walls.
Mr Jordan had resumed scrutinising The Daily Prophet when his son descended the stairs with a pouty face. He wore smooth robes, of his much favoured emerald green colour, and had his auburn hair styled, most certainly with magic.
"Your breakfast awaits you," Mr Jordan said, without taking his eyes off the Prophet.
Perce gave another grunt and sat down without any comments. His father knew well that the morning's incident wasn't one to be easily forgotten.
"Why did you have to send Toby when you wanted to use your — cruel methods? This is the fourth time you did that. I'm going to do that to you someday." Perce had a serious, annoyed face, which he was stuffing with sausages.
"You might not have noticed, but poor Toby was repeating himself for half an hour," Mr Jordan said offhandedly, flipping a page. "Mysterious death in Czechoslovakia of a worker of the British Ministry of Magic... Yes, the court spoke about that. Dumbledore was rather quiet about this. He didn't seem too happy." he added, glancing at Perce, whose attention had shot up at the mention of the Deputy Headmaster's name. However, the next moment, the paper was being folded and Mr Jordan announced that they would be departing in five minutes.
Perce then had, being fully awake, grasped the fact that they were heading to the residence of a certain William, whose last name was unknown to him, but who he knew was definitely not a hippogriff. Being a part of multiple gatherings at his own house, he possessed a general idea regarding the protocol.
He sometimes found them wary and mechanical, yet there were always some of them full of life and energy. He was, at that point, hoping desperately for one gratefully devoid of monotony. Many a time life rejects one's hopes. But Perce had the opportunity of having his hope fulfilled by a shade more than he would have liked it to be.
"Ready?" Mr Jordan took a fistful of Floo Powder. Perce gave a curt nod and held his father's hand. "Here we go then. The Fawleys' Towers!"
Perce's eyebrows rose and he opened his mouth in protest — but he inhaled a mouthful of dust and smoke as all his anticipation and expectations melted. William Fawley was, of course, the father of Drake Fawley...
He would indeed be left with wonderful memories for the remaining few days of summer. With a resigned sigh, he opened his eyes and saw a neatly proportioned room, with a high ceiling; magnificent stairs that adorned the lightly peach coloured walls; a table situated at the corner of the room, with glasses floating above it, eager to present any guest with a drink of their choice; numerous books, to Perce's fascination, that were stored in an elephant-sized bookshelf that stood below the stairs; and, amongst a few other guests, two figures in the neatest of attires, the shorter one who gave a look of deepest annoyance and loathing at the sight of Perce. The latter gave a deep sigh.
It was one incident that would happen in the months to follow that Perce would never forget.
It was a day in the second year at Hogwarts. A cold, breezy day in December, that saw numerous chattering teeth in its early hours. Snow had descended neatly upon the grounds of Hogwarts, and had covered the towers with a thick layer. The half-giant Gamekeeper of Hogwarts could be seen ploughing through the snow. Blankets tightly covered every student. Even Roger Elladore was fast asleep.
Perce could remember very well the carriages that had taken them from the train to near the castle. He also could recollect reading about it, bound by the curiosity of a child. He had told Subash that he would have preferred to go by the boats, with cool air brushing past him, to the stuffy carriages. Somehow, his carriage had reeked of onions. That had been followed by the Sorting, where he had spotted multiple new faces carrying expressions identical to his when the Hat had placed him in Slytherin. He was neither surprised nor particularly pleased to see a few looking dejected or uncertain.
Slytherin has always been marked wrong. Ambition and determination was what distinguished the Noble House, but the bulk of the Wizarding community chose to point only towards the rotten few. Every House, of course, had its rotten eggs. The prejudice starts at a young age, learnt from the very parents. Equal importance has never been appointed to the legends Slytherin has produced.
The monotonous voice of Headmaster Armando Dippet had, post-Sorting, read out announcements for the first years and had reminded the older students of the restrictions. Dumbledore had looked delighted, as always, his bright blue eyes twinkling.
During the journey to Hogwarts, Perce had recounted the proceedings of the rather unpleasant party at the Fawleys': He had been subject to multiple piercing and loathing stares, and even attempts of trivial attack. He had distrusted the food too, in fear of embarrassment, and a prompt excuse of stomach problems had been produced. Drake had been looking especially delighted. Perce had been left with a rumbling stomach, swearing revenge. The books present there, however, had succeeded in engaging him for long.
This rather depressing narration had invoked outraged responses from his companions. There had been a call for a comeback and the unofficial resolution had been passed. Though he ought not to have been, Perce had been inwardly consoled by this. Subash then had given a friendly thump on the back, and the conversation had steered around. There had been an indication that nothing severe was intended to happen.
But on that December morning, everyone was deeply asleep. A single polished window oscillated, silently opening and closing. Gusts of wind found their way into the common room. Without a tangible cause, Perce's eye-lids opened suddenly, revealing his blue eyes. They stared at the ceiling for a while, until their master decided to move. Soft snores and grunts filled the room. At random, it seemed, memories flashed across his mind. Memories of the nearest dreams he experienced, those of the classes the previous week, and of books, also touching upon the arguments between him and Drake that engaged the common room, not leaving out the points he had gained in the very first week.
He glanced at the watch gifted to him by Roger. He was still in the early hours of the morning, and he got off his bed with unusual laziness. All of a sudden, a memory struck him and a wide smile appeared on his face. Out of all the thoughts he had just had, this particular one chose to appear at its leisure. Nevertheless, a warm sensation of anticipation and excitement filled his chest and he walked with a new spring in his step.
The door opened, and the most undesirable person entered the common room; his face transformed into a sneer the moment he caught sight of Perce. Drake had developed the habit of trying to jinx Perce each time he caught sight of him. After escaping the first two times on luck, partly also owing to the inaccurate aim of Drake, Perce had learned to be cautious.
This time, catching sight of a small movement of Drake's hand, Perce drew his wand at once and cast a simple spell that rendered his opponent's voice useless. Drake then resorted to physical attack, but unfortunately couldn't succeed, having bounced neatly off of the shield Perce had cast. Calmly, Perce walked out, leaving a mute Drake considering his only choice — visiting the hospital wing. Perce once again began contemplating on that particular thought which gave him a great reason to begin his day earlier than normal.
A grand series of actions was arranged for that afternoon with the entire school as a witness. Having unwillingly woken up in the cold atmosphere, the others of the Slytherin second year boys had regained their usual energy by noon. In addition, the anticipation of the event to follow further rejuvenated the group.
The Great Hall was housing the hundreds of rather hungry Hogwarts' students and staff. Among the usual jovial faces were some especially mature looking young wizards, wearing absolutely no expression. These belonged to Subash and Roger.
Perce walked into the Great Hall, twirling his wand in his hand. Subash and Roger turned to him, but began pointedly looking away the very next moment. The two of them were silent, in a mysteriously abnormal manner. Susane, who somehow had decided to sit with them, was smiling to herself, silently chewing on some steak. Perce passed by multiple Slytherins — including Drake Fawley, who was deeply engaged in conversation — and reached their seats. Anyone who cared could have noticed a subtle pause as he passed Drake. His two friends, however, were looking as though Hogwarts didn't exist.
"Are they alright?" Robin Selwyn asked Perce, who seemed to be the only normally smiling human there.
"I don't think so, no."
The answer, being a little too prompt and lacking genuineness, failed to convince Robin. There was no choice for Robin except to move on to his seat, since Perce had nonchalantly turned his attention to his food after greeting Susane in a manner a shade too pleasant.
Perce thought Robin was being unnecessarily impatient. He calmly smiled and nodded at the other three, and they grinned back — with awfully artificial grins. Robin had a suspicious eye on them.
Robin's eyebrows rose and his mouth formed a perfect 'O'. And slowly, the occurrence gained attention. He was one who understood at once what the second years had been up to.
It was a well known fact that Drake Fawley was bloating, which was normally attributed to his appetite. But, during that particular lunch, Drake Fawley showed his true potential. Exponentially he expanded, and continued to do so till five students on either side were forced to exit their seats. And proportionally, he seemed to grow in weight. All of the ten seats collapsed, and along with them, the composure of Perce and his friends. This, though, was lost in the laughter that rang through the entire hall. The giant Drake-ball rolled away from the table, with a small protruding head screaming for help ("or food. The poor kid was terribly hungry, I heard him say that," commented Perce).
As expected, Professor Dumbledore, the half-Goblin Professor Flitwick, and Professor McGonagall rose to tackle the situation, joined by the Hogwarts Prefects and Head students. Hogwarts had entered into such a chaos that many felt true sympathy towards them.
The professors and student leaders began using magic to control students. Multiple students were subject to the Silencing Charm. Professor Dippet, it seemed, was not present at the High Table.
"Look, look, look — there — his head again gets rolled on —" shouted Subash, pointing to Drake-ball, and he laughed until a Silencing Charm hit him. It was Roger's turn to laugh following that.
The number of students still roaring with laughter was subsiding. A voiceless Subash, Roger, and Perce, joined by Susane, were thoroughly enjoying the situation, and Perce was being clapped on the back. While the other two professors were calming the crowd, Professor Dumbledore flourished his wand, and with a small 'pop', Drake Fawley was restored to his normal size.
On seeing Dumbledore's stance, however, Perce stopped laughing. None of the regulators looked pleased and for the first time in the entire day, Perce felt uneasy about their endeavour.
It took a while before the Great Hall slowly reverted to its usual chatters. Drake walked out of the Great Hall, followed by Professor Slughorn, who seemed to be frozen until just then. Jake was nowhere to be seen and, when Perce noticed it, the absence made him all the more uncomfortable.
Perce responded with a small laugh to his friends' congratulations. The four assumed that nobody except Subash, Roger and Susane knew that it was Perce's doing, and of course, they were forced to limit their conversations. It had been planned, certainly. However, none of them would have objected to Robin's knowledge of their plan, and therefore paid no heed when it was evident he realised the truth.
As they were leaving the Great Hall, Dumbledore intercepted their path. Perce could've sworn that he had expected something of this sort. Dumbledore would always know.
He simply looked at them for a minute, with no understandable expression on his bearded face. Then, addressing Perce, he spoke.
"One's thoughts have the power to command respect, and so does the power to control them."
And abruptly, he turned and left.
"That was — weird, why — Perce, are you alright?" asked Susane. Subash and Roger, who were staring after Dumbledore, turned.
Perce's face was white as a sheet, and he gave a feeble nod, and attempted a small smile. "Let's go," he said, in a small voice. Without a question, they followed.
Perce didn't know that that afternoon, Albus Dumbledore understood something Perce's friends did not.