Pressing Questions
Sitting in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, James sighed as he listened to Professor Aven lecture on the uses of Healing Spells. Remus and Peter were right about Aven's class: the professor gave out mounds of homework, and James was still struggling to catch up after his detention of alphabetizing the books in the lower levels of the library. Even now, he had little idea of what Aven was talking about, although Remus had done his best to explain Healing Spells to him and Sirius before class.
Pausing his lecture, Professor Aven turned and scribbled a short list of incantations onto the blackboard with a piece of chalk. James briefly wondered why their professor didn't just use his wand, but he then decided Aven was just as bored as he was and needed a way to drag out the lesson. Sighing again, James drummed his fingers on the desk.
Turning back around, Professor Aven said, "There are many different types of Healing Spells, which range in capability from cut-mending to poison-draining. As this is your fourth year, you only need learn two of the most basic spells practically, although I expect you to have read up on bone-repair." Still mildly confused by the lecture, James tapped his fingers on his desk as Aven frowned up at the ceiling. "You're studying the Sanguine Solvent in Potions now, correct?"
Exchanging glances, the students stayed quiet until Alice spoke up. "No, sir," she answered. "I've never even heard of it."
"Really?" Aven asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Slughorn hasn't discussed it?" Performing a half-shrug, he flushed a bit and said, "Maybe Hogwarts took it off the syllabus. It's illegal, after all, unless the potioneer obtains special permission from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Magizoologists and herbologists are concerned with the potion's use of Mandrakes, fluxweed, Alihotsy . . . all protected species." Waving his hand, he shook his head and continued, "In essence, the Sanguine Solvent is supposed to reduce physical and emotional pain by improving the drinker's mood. I was going to liken it to Healing Spells, but it's a rather flawed comparison—the Sanguine Solvent is awfully outdated, and most Healers believe that it only helps to numb the drinker instead of combating the ailment."
Keeping their eyes on the professor as he paced to the other side of the room, the students watched silently until Aven turned and addressed them. "With that much said, who would like to attempt a casting of the book's first Healing Spell?"
Starting with the rest of the class, Peter forgot to raise his hand as he protested. "But aren't you going to teach it to us first?"
"Theory should be enough, shouldn't it?" Aven answered, shooting him an odd sort of look.
"But Professor," Peter insisted, "how are we supposed to perform a Healing Spell if nobody's injured?"
"I noticed that Lupin had a small gash on his cheek when he came in," Aven replied. "He must have scratched it up in Herbology a few days ago. What do you say, Lupin? Is it all right if Pettigrew has a go?"
Turning to stare at Remus and Peter, James and Sirius held their breaths as Remus stared at the floor. After several long moments, he slid out of his chair and walked slowly to the front of the room, apparently unsure of how to refuse. Peter scurried after him, almost tripping over his own feet in his hurry, and the rest of the class looked on as Peter raised his wand towards Remus with a trembling hand.
"Episkey!" he said, and a few of the students stifled their giggles as Remus remained unaffected by Peter's spell. Lowering his wand, Peter glanced at Professor Aven, but the wizard merely shook his head.
"Go on, try again!" he urged. "No one is perfect the first time around!" Clearing his throat, Peter faced Remus again as the taller boy waited, clenching his fists.
"Episkey!" Peter tried again, his wand jumping slightly, but nothing happened. Folding his arms over himself, Remus looked over at Professor Aven while Peter lowered his wand again.
"I don't think I can do it," Peter mumbled to Aven, and Aven's gaze softened.
"That's all right, Pettigrew. You don't have to try if you don't want to."
Deflating more out of relief than embarrassment, Peter hurried back to his seat, the other students watching him with a pitying sort of quiet. Opening his mouth, Professor Aven seemed about to ask for another volunteer, but he soon checked himself as Remus thudded down into his chair. Executing a small sigh, Aven looked askance.
"All right, that'll be it for today. Keep reading about Healing Spells, and practice the wand movements on your own. Your two essays are due next class, and don't forget to start researching the applications of hex-deflection."
Standing up, the class gathered their belongings and left the room, James and his roommates exiting as soon as they could. Rapidly putting distance between them and the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they did not slow as they headed towards the Great Hall for lunch.
"That couldn't have ended any sooner," Remus spoke first, releasing a breath that he had been holding in the classroom. "Thanks for covering for me, Peter."
"Er—sure thing," Peter responded, quickly looking away, and James and Sirius shared a dubious glance.
Entering the Great Hall, James stared up at the leering pumpkin heads floating above the tables, still present from the recent Halloween feast. Remus had missed the meal due to the turning of the full moon on Halloween night, but the holiday had at least given him a plausible excuse for his disappearance, which he claimed was caused by a short visit to the Lupin residence.
"What's that you've got there?" Sirius asked Remus as the four roommates sat down at the Gryffindor table, glancing Remus' way as he pulled out a wad of folded paper from inside his robes.
"It's The Daily Prophet. An owl delivered it with breakfast this morning, but I haven't had the chance to read it yet," Remus replied, opening up the newspaper.
"Has Puddlemere United won again?" James asked, leaning in, but he soon quieted as Remus' face fell. As the others watched him wordlessly, Remus pushed the newspaper away as if rejecting a foul supper.
"What is it?" Peter inquired first.
"There's been another werewolf attack," Remus answered in a small voice, and the others looked over his shoulder to read the article. Just under a lengthy excerpt about another of the Lucky Leprechauns' humbling defeats, James spotted the short paragraph that had disheartened Remus.
Five Left Injured in Werewolf Assault on Halloween Night
Another attack has caused unease in Mugeary, where resident wizards and witches reported a devastating werewolf mauling. Although the two werewolves appeared in a Muggle-infested part of town, only magical folk were harmed. Hit wizards tracked one of the creatures to a more deserted region, where it disappeared. Authorities are still on the lookout for any signs of the insurgent werewolves. Some cry Death Eater play.
Surprised by the brevity of the article, James sat back and looked at Remus, who was still staring at the table. "Why the long face? You didn't hurt anyone!"
"Yeah," Sirius agreed. "There's no need to get upset over it!"
Shaking his head, Remus slouched even lower. "You don't understand. There's been stories like this all summer, and they're beginning to scare people. My family has had to move several times while I was home just to keep people from growing suspicious. If anyone found out about me now, word would spread like wildfire, and I'd never be able to come back to Hogwarts."
"But it's not the werewolves' fault!" James protested. "It's not like they're purposely trying to bite people!"
"No, but that doesn't mean that the rest of the world will believe it," Remus replied, tracing the dark lines on the wooden table. "And anyway, whoever attacked Mugeary should have kept themselves more safely guarded during the full moon. I don't blame them for hiding—Merlin knows what the Ministry would do to them if they turned themselves in—but these things shouldn't happen in the first place."
Sinking onto the table, Remus crossed his arms under his chin as James patted his back. "If it's any consolation, we don't believe any of that Death Eater rubbish! The only organization that you would join is the Gobstones Club."
Smiling slightly, Remus looked up at Peter as he spoke. "But why wouldn't The Daily Prophet confirm that the werewolves had joined He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named if they hate them so much?"
Exchanging a look, James and Sirius frowned for a moment in silence. Finally, James nodded. "You're right. That is strange."
"No, it isn't," Remus argued, sitting up again. "They don't have any proof."
"I don't think they'd care about proof," James countered. "Earlier this year, The Daily Prophet almost said outright that the werewolves were working for Lord Voldemort—oh, don't be pathetic, Peter. But now, the Death Eaters were only mentioned at the very end of the article, almost like an afterthought. I thought for sure that The Daily Prophet was going to continue to pin the two together."
"So why the change?" Sirius asked aloud, and the others thought silently before James pushed up from the table.
"Lucky for us, there's someone in this school who might know," he announced, looking towards the High Table. "Dumbledore will be able to tell us!"
"Great idea! Let's go ask him!" Sirius immediately supported, jumping up from his seat and grabbing The Daily Prophet. Watching his friends as they made to race off, Remus blinked before staring back down at the table.
"You have fun with that, then," he sighed, resting his head in his arms again.
Leaving him, James, Sirius, and Peter ran to catch up with the Headmaster as he left the High Table and walked towards the Great Hall's double doors, having finished mingling with the rest of the staff. Just as the wizened wizard exited into the hallway, James and his roommates finally waved him down, panting slightly.
"Headmaster!" Sirius cried, forcing Dumbledore to pause and perform a half-turn. Stopping, James waited while Sirius took a large breath and shook the newspaper in his hand. "We have a question for you!"
"Then by all means, satisfy your curiosity," Dumbledore invited in a deep voice, his half-moon spectacles glinting as he glanced down at the boys. "However, if you are wondering how Puddlemere United fared in last night's game, I am as much in the dark as you."
Unable to stop a grin from breaking across his face, James waited as Sirius shook his head and unfolded the newspaper. "No, sir," he answered. "We saw an article about a werewolf attack in Mugeary, and some people seem to think that the werewolves are working for Lord Voldemort."
Again, Peter flinched as Sirius ended, but Dumbledore simply nodded as James interrupted. "But earlier this year, The Daily Prophet had seemed pretty certain that the werewolves had joined the Death Eaters, so now it seems like they're backtracking."
"Cynical of the press' objectivity?" Dumbledore inquired, and James thought that he might have been smiling behind his snow-white beard. "Can't they strike a balance when there are no facts to support a decision either way?"
"We didn't figure that you would be too trusting of them, either," Sirius spoke, and the Headmaster's blue eyes sparkled briefly as he rested his hands behind his back. Giving the newspaper a shake, Sirius asked, "So why isn't The Daily Prophet saying anything for certain? It seems pretty simple to me: the werewolves are either working with the Death Eaters, or they aren't."
Taking in the boys' inquisitive faces, Dumbledore did not respond right away, but instead rocked back and forth on his heels. Finally, he took in a breath and nodded slowly. "You're absolutely correct in your line of thinking. You have, in fact, pointed out the most important issue of this whole matter. The answer, one could say, lies within the question." When none of the trio replied, Dumbledore quizzed, "Who would be the first to know if someone was indeed affiliated with the Death Eaters: the Ministry, or everyone else?"
"Well . . . I suppose that the Ministry would, at least after one or two people had told them so," James guessed.
"And with that simple statement, you are telling me that the Ministry has the power to control the public's perception," Dumbledore told him succinctly. "Whatever The Daily Prophet reports, the people believe. And with the newspaper's confusion on this matter, I can infer with some certainty that the Ministry is trying to kill two owls with one spell, so to speak. Firstly, when the truth finally comes out, the press will sustain credibility no matter what the outcome. This, although the product of fair journalism in the first place, will certainly aid The Daily Prophet's circulation."
"Secondly," he continued, "any of the reporters coming from the Ministry will have deep connections with Eugenia Jenkins, who, although a fair person in multiple regards, could be described as controlling. In her mind, the wizarding world should be as unruffled as possible in this time of war. Therefore, while the issue of the werewolves is still shrouded in mystery, Jenkins will want to placate the readers of The Daily Prophet while still demonizing Voldemort and his Death Eaters—thus the conflicting articles you have called to attention."
"But that's rubbish!" James exclaimed. "If The Daily Prophet is going to jump back and forth like that, they're just going to end up confusing everyone!"
"But as I pointed out, the press is not technically doing anything wrong," Dumbledore replied. "The media hangs in a very delicate balance, with each rule having several loopholes in which to work around it. Whether you believe it to be ethical or not, you have to appreciate the subtlety involved."
"Headmaster, do you know if the werewolves have really joined the Death Eaters?" Sirius questioned, and James threw him a warning glance that he ignored.
Shaking his head, Dumbledore smiled slightly. "I'm afraid that Eugenia has chosen to leave me to my own devices after frustrating her one too many times. Since I have not so much as been invited to examine the aftermath of a werewolf strike, I am simply working from what I gather from The Daily Prophet. I certainly have my conjectures, but they are only educated guesses at best."
Nodding slowly, the boys began to back away until Dumbledore stopped them, raising a hand to stroke his bearded chin.
"Was there a particular reason why you wanted to ask about the werewolves?"
"No reason, sir!" James answered quickly, and Sirius and Peter immediately shook their heads. Peering at them intently for a moment, the Headmaster then smiled and raised his hand in farewell.
"You'll be getting on to your classes, then," he told them before continuing down the hallway. Relaxing, James and the others breathed matching sighs before hurrying back to the Great Hall to reunite with Remus.