CHAPTER 25: WHERE THE FAULT LIES
(Three Months Later)
HE-WHO-MUST-NOT-BE NAMED RETURNS
Jimmy O'Bannon gazed at the headline in The All-Seeing Eye as he stood in the middle of his dorm room. His jaw slowly worked back and forth as he read the story for the fourth time today. Finally, after nearly a year, the truth had come out. Part of him wanted to be happy. How long had he spent trying to convince his classmates at Salem that Harry Potter had been telling the truth about Voldemort's return? How much ridicule and abuse had he taken? Now he was vindicated. He should feel happy.
But how could anyone feel happy with the most powerful and evil dark wizard in history walking the earth again?
He nodded in satisfaction as he read the accounts, taken straight from The Daily Prophet in Britain, of how Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, even Luna and Neville, took on a group of Death Eaters in the Ministry of Magic, and kicked ass.
Go D.A.
He was also glad to see the wizarding public no longer viewed Harry as some demented attention seeking whackjob. Even better, Dumbledore had been reinstated as Headmaster of Hogwarts, which meant that hag Dolores Umbridge had been kicked to the curb, deservedly so. As for Minister Fudge, from what O'Bannon read in The All-Seeing Eye, that dumbass would probably be looking for a new job soon. He prayed the Brits would get a more competent witch or wizard to head up their Ministry.
That shouldn't be hard. Hagrid's dog would make a better Minister of Magic than Fudge.
He folded the newspaper and tossed it on his rolltop desk. His eyes flickered from The All-Seeing Eye to the piece of parchment next to it. A frustrated sigh burst from his nostrils. His lips twisted as he stared intently at the parchment, which bore his results from the National Examination on Wizarding Knowledge, the NEWKs. He scanned each line slowly.
CHARMS: OUTSTANDING
TRANSFIGURATION: EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS
DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS: OUTSTANDING
SEVENTH YEAR SEMINAR: EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS
THEORETICAL MAGIC: EXCEEDS EXPECTATIONS
HISTORY OF MAGIC: OUTSTANDING
His eyes then settled on the one line that made his insides sink into a dank pit of despair.
POTIONS: POOR
O'Bannon's shoulders rose and fell in angry breaths. His mind propelled him back to the week before, sitting in the Potions classroom, with an hour to make three different potions. He had some trouble making the Burn-Healing Paste, but eventually got it right. The Draught of Living Death was another matter. He forgot how many counter-clockwise stirs to make before stirring clockwise. To add to his troubles, he didn't put in enough juice of sopophorous beans. Instead of the blue steam normally produced when stirring, his cauldron unleashed a noxious red smoke that choked the entire class before the Potions teacher, Mister Korvette, used a Dispersing Charm and berated him for his incompetence.
As he prepared to concoct his third potion, one phrase ran through his mind. I can't screw up. I can't screw up.
As an athlete, he knew better. When you started thinking you can't fail, you usually did. But his whole future depended on making the Eyesight Restoration Elixir. He needed an Exceeds Expectations or better to qualify for auror training. Tonks believed he could do it. So did Rosa and Jared and Artimus. He had to prove their faith in him wasn't misplaced. He could not fail.
All attempts to keep his nervousness at bay proved futile. He couldn't remember which stirring spoon to use for the elixir, iron or wood. He couldn't remember how many falcon feathers to use, or how much Oclivior Root extract to put in. As a result, his potion boiled over and covered the table with a rigid, crusty substance.
So much for being an auror.
O'Bannon kicked his chair, knocking it over. "Dammit!" He fell hard onto the edge of his bed, scowling at the floor. Tonks' voice echoed in his mind, telling him how he had all the makings of an auror. He punched his mattress, glad she hadn't been in the Potions classroom that day.
He briefly considered asking Rosa if her parents or Jared's mother could put in some kind of word for him with the U.S. Auror's Bureau. After all, he had passed all his other subjects with flying colors. They also knew, after his exploits in Ovenderburg and England, that he could hold his own in a fight.
But he nixed that idea. He didn't like seeing people get positions they didn't deserve because of family connections or having friends in high places. He'd be damned if he'd go that route himself.
So that was that. Jimmy O'Bannon would not become an auror.
He sat brooding for a good long time before he finally glanced at his watch. 1:15. With a grunt, he got up and snatched his robes off his bedpost. He put them on, slammed the door to his room shut and pounded down the wooden steps of Blazenrowe Hall until he reached the foyer.
"Quit making that racket, young man." A bearded wizard in one of the moving portraits on the maple-paneled wall scolded him.
"Light steps," urged dark-haired witch with a frilly ankle-length dress in another portrait. "Light steps."
O'Bannon muttered several four-letter words under his breath as he shoved open the front door and stomped outside. A rolling lawn and lush green trees greeted him. Colonial-style buildings of various sizes dotted the grounds that made up the Salem Witches Institute. Sunlight sparkled off the surface of the large lake. He spotted a large knot of students by the shore, cheering as two students sped around the lake on their brooms. With final exams behind them, the student body could finally unwind and enjoy themselves.
Well, most of the student body.
O'Bannon turned away from the crowd, shoved his hands into his pockets and stormed along the dirt path to the Priscilla Primrose Communal Hall. When he arrived at the red barn-like structure, he saw a large blue banner hanging over the entrance. The brilliant gold lettering read, SWI JOB FAIR TODAY FROM 1-3. Other golden words appeared and faded on the banner, advertising the various careers represented inside.
He snorted as he stared at the banner. Maybe it should read, "Options for losers who have no idea what the hell to do."
O'Bannon had geared himself up for the past three months to be an auror. He never even entertained the notion of having a back-up career in case he didn't get the required grades. Failure had not been option.
Well, I failed. So now what?
With a sigh, he shoved open the door to the Communal Hall.
"Ah, welcome, Mister O'Bannon." The ghost of a heavyset woman with an apron and her hair in a bun swooped down to greet him. "Welcome."
"Hey," he muttered to Priscilla Primrose, one of the founders of the Salem Witches Institute.
"So, still trying to decide on a career, eh?" the ghost asked cheerily. "Best not to dawdle. Only two days before graduation."
O'Bannon just grunted, his face wrinkling in annoyance. He picked up his pace, hoping Priscilla wouldn't follow him.
He moved from one table to another, examining the brochures, trying to find something that interested him.
LEARN THE TRADE OF BROOM-MAKING FROM THE BEST. IGBY'S INCREDIBLE EMPORIUM OF BROOMS SEEKING ENTRY-LEVEL APPLICANTS.
KEEP OUR CAULDRONS QUALITY. COLBERT'S CAULDRON COMPANY HIRING INSPECTORS. PRIOR EXPERIENCE NOT NECESSARY.
RAND'S REALM OF MAGICAL NECESSITIES SEEKING SALES ASSOCIATES FOR SHOPS IN MASSACHUSETTS, PENNSYLVANIA AND VIRGINIA.
O'Bannon chuckled sardonically at that one. Yeah. Like I'd ever want to work for Artimus' dad. Like he'd ever even hire me.
He just passed a table advertising for the Department of Magic's Office of Magical Standards and Measurements without even glancing at a brochure when a familiar voice called to him.
"Jimmy!"
He looked to the row of tables across from him. His eyes lit up in recognition at the two witches waving to him. One was stocky with short dark hair, the other slender and striking jet black hair falling past her shoulders.
"Hey, Mrs. Diaz. Mrs. Infante." He walked across the hall to Jared's mom and Rosa's mom. He slowed his pace when he saw the banner hanging in front of their table. Blue with a white shield and two crossed wands, the symbol of the United States Aurors Bureau.
O'Bannon's eyes fell to the floor. Like he really needed another reminder of his failure.
"Last minute job hunting, huh?" said Adelaide Infante.
"Yeah," he grumbled, looking at his shoes instead of Rosa's mom.
"Jimmy," Liana Diaz said with an insistent tone.
He raised his head. Both witches gave him sympathetic looks.
"Come here." Mrs. Diaz waved him to come closer to the table. He approached as the two witches came round the table.
"Now look." Mrs. Diaz put an arm around his shoulders. "I know you had your heart set on being an auror, and I know how hard you worked toward that goal."
"Yeah. All that hard work for nothing."
"Jimmy," Mrs. Infante began. "You have to stop beating yourself up. It won't do you any good."
He shook his head. "It's just . . . I keep thinking of all the people who said I'd make a good auror. I never even thought about becoming an auror until Tonks brought it up. She had all this faith in me and . . . and I couldn't even get through the stupid Potions part of NEWKs." He snorted. "Couldn't get through it, I totally botched it. I had Rosa and Jared and Artimus helping me with Potions for the last three months. And for what? All I did was waste their time and let everyone down."
"First of all, Jimmy," Mrs. Diaz said sternly. "You did not waste their time, and you certainly did not let anyone down. You gave it your best shot."
"Well, my best wasn't good enough, was it?"
"Hey." Mrs. Diaz tightened her grip around his shoulder. "Stop beating yourself up. Just because you can't become an auror doesn't make you worthless. What you did in Ovenderburg and England proves that."
"You're going to be a valuable addition to the Guild of the Light," Mrs. Infante smiled at him, "whether you can make a proper Sight Restoration Elixir or not."
"Yeah, I guess."
Mrs. Diaz rubbed his shoulder in a motherly manner. "Look, I'm sure if you look hard enough around here, you can find something you're good at and that you'll enjoy."
"You know, my brother has a table down there for the Department's Bureau for the Management of Magical Creatures." Mrs. Infante nodded toward to the thickly built, balding form of Irving Diaz, who stood behind a table further down the Communal Hall. "He has a few job openings. It may not be auror work, but dealing with magical creatures can be pretty exciting."
A brief smile crossed his lips. A comment like that made it easy to see where Rosa got her adventurous spirit from.
"Yeah, I'll think about it. Thanks."
After an exchange of hugs with the two witches, O'Bannon ambled his way down the Communal Hall. He stopped by Mr. Diaz's table and listened politely to his pitch.
"I can see you in a few years being part of my team. Merlin knows I'd love to have you." He referred to SMACRAT, the Special Magical Creature Action Team, his elite group charged with neutralizing any beasts that pose an immediate threat to the wizarding population. O'Bannon had to admit the prospect sounded interesting, but he had his heart set on taking down dark wizards, not reptoids or werewolves.
He thanked Jared's dad, accepted a brochure and moved on.
Crap, what am I going to do? He thought back to his First Year at Salem, when magic was new and exciting to him. He probably would have jumped at the chance to do any job that had anything to do with magic. Now, at age seventeen, with two days left until graduation, he was surrounded by dozens of magical jobs, and not a single one interested him.
What the hell happened to that wide-eyed eleven-year-old who saw the Wizarding World as nothing but wondrous?
Reality fell on him like a brick wall.
O'Bannon frowned as he passed more tables without stopping. The rest of his merry band had jobs lined up. Rosa, of course, aced her NEWKs and would be heading off to auror training. Jared accepted a position with the Magical Museum of North America's foreign expedition division.
"I'm basically gonna be like that ark-log-ist with the whip from that movie you showed me," Jared had told him. "Um, what is it? Montana Jones?"
Finally, Artimus got a job with the Department of Magic, but wouldn't tell any of them what it was.
"I'll tell you after graduation," he'd told them. "It's gonna be a surprise."
So that left him the odd man out.
He lifted his head as he came to the end of the row of tables. A banner caught his eye that made him halt.
YOUNG WIZARDS AND WITCHES ATHLETICS AND ACTIVITIES ASSOCIATION.
His eyes moved past the banner to the girl sitting at the table. She didn't look much older than him, had a trim figure with mocha skin, a clear complexion and dark hair that ended just above her shoulders. He made his way over.
"Hi there." The girl smiled at him. She had a very shiny, very pretty smile. "Interested in working with young witches and wizards?"
"Maybe." He returned her smile. He had no idea if this would work out or not, but at least talking to a hot girl wouldn't be a waste of time. "What would I be doing with them?"
"Oh, all sorts of things. We have year-round activities for pre-school age witches and wizards like beginning broom flying, Quidditch basics, and more advanced activities for students during their winter and summer breaks. You look like a pretty athletic type. I'd bet you'd make a good instructor."
O'Bannon raised an eyebrow, wondering if the girl was flirting with him.
"Well, I was captain of my dorm's hockey team this year."
"Hockey?" She wrinkled her brow. "Oh yeah. That's that Muggle game they play on ice. My uncle told me about it once. He was the Wizarding Ambassador to Britain last year when some exchange student set up a game at Hogwarts."
O'Bannon's eyes widened. He drew his head back in surprise. "No way. Your uncle is Ambassador Laribee?"
"You know him?"
"Yeah. He was there to watch that game at Hogwarts. That's where I met him. I'm the Muggle who put the whole thing together."
"Merlin's beard, I don't believe it." The girl gaped and she stood up. "You're Jimmy O'Bannon?"
"Guilty as charged." He smiled and extended his hand.
"Talia Laribee." She shook his hand. "I work in the Activities Department of the YWW-Triple-A in Washington. You know, we have a couple Muggle-borns in our place that are looking to put together a program of Muggle sports. You know, show everyone what it's like to play games without magic. I think you could really help with that."
Fifteen minutes later he walked out of the Communal Hall with a huge smile and a job. He received big hugs from Mrs. Diaz and Mrs. Infante and a hearty slap on back from Mr. Diaz. He still wasn't completely over the fact he didn't qualify for auror training, but at least he had a job doing something he loved. Sports.
And you didn't think you be doing anything with hockey beyond Salem.
He strode toward the large crowd at the lake watching the broom races. His eyes scanned the mass of students until he spotted Rosa, Jared and Artimus, who jumped and cheered as a broom flown by Dante Marshall crossed the finish line.
"Guys! Yo, guys!" He raced over to them. By the time he reached them, they'd been joined by Dante, a stocky black kid who played on the Blazenrowe hockey team. O'Bannon told them all about his new job with the YWWAAA.
"Wicked pissah!" Jared beamed. "So it looks like we're all gonna be in Washington. Well, except for those times when I'm off gallivanting around the globe uncovering the mysteries of the Wizarding World."
"Just rub it in, Diaz." Dante gave him a mock scowl. "I still got one more year before I graduate."
"Yeah, but at least you'll probably spend it as captain of the hockey team." O'Bannon smiled at him. "I did put in a good word for you with Headmistress Esmeralda."
"You're the man, Jimmy." Dante high-fived him.
"So this girl who gave you the job," Jared began. "Was she hot?"
O'Bannon opened his mouth to answer in the affirmative. But somebody called his name before he could speak.
"Hey, O'Bannon!"
He turned around to see a large group of students headed his way. He recognized many of them. Wilbur Walden, Calvin Frissell, Eli Witting, Abigail Aguirre and Ursa Oberlin. At the forefront was a tall boy with close-cropped dark hair and tanned skin. Darius Forten, the guy who dated Blazenrowe Seeker Rana Rollingsworth before O'Bannon's brief, disastrous relationship with her.
He twisted his lips as they approached. Everyone in this group had one thing in common. None of them had believed him when he warned You-Know-Who was back. Because of it, quite a few of these witches and wizards had not spoken to him since the beginning of the school year.
"Yeah?" O'Bannon locked eyes on Darius.
The boy's shoulders slumped. "Um, look, man. It's . . . well, I guess you saw The All-Seeing Eye today."
"Yeah, I did. Pretty interesting story on the front page. Not that it was news to me."
"Yeah, well . . ." Darius cleared his throat before continuing. "Look, Jimmy, all of us . . ." He nodded to the others behind him. "We just wanted to say we're sorry for not believing you, and for all the crap we gave you about this."
"You've always been straight with us," Eli said. "I guess after all the stories we heard about what You-Know-Who and his gang did in the first war, we just didn't want to believe he could be back, that he'd be doing all that stuff again. We should have known you wouldn't lie about something like that."
"What do you say, man?" Darius extended his hand.
O'Bannon stared at it. He didn't want to accept their apology. He wanted to know why they hadn't felt this way at the beginning of the school year. He wanted to know why they took the word of reporters they didn't know instead of their classmate of seven years. Why had they ridiculed him? Why had they shunned him? Why had he risked his life and the lives of his friends in Ovenderburg and England for a bunch of people who thought him a gullible Muggle-born who spread lies?
He glanced around at his friends. Jared folded his arms and glared at Darius and the others. He looked ready for a verbal throw down. Rosa, Artimus and Dante, however, appeared more forgiving.
O'Bannon looked back to Darius' group. A blow-up gathered behind his teeth, ready to be unleashed.
But the angry outburst never came. Because that's what Voldemort would want. He wanted friends to turn on one another. He wanted discord and mistrust.
O'Bannon closed his eyes and swallowed his anger. This might be one small, insignificant front in the overall war against Lord Voldemort, but it was his front, and he would not lose it.
"Apology accepted." He clasped Darius' hand. That started a big round of apologies and handshakes and a few hugs.
He just released Abigail from an embrace when he heard a familiar, arrogant-sounding voice.
"Oh, isn't this lovely."
He turned to find a young man and woman striding toward him. His lips twisted when he recognized them. Merak Mather and his pet harpy – I mean, girlfriend – Sondra Weaver.
"You here for the apology party too, Mather." Jared shot him a distrustful look.
Mather ignored him, all his attention on O'Bannon. "Well, you were right, weren't you? You-Know-Who is back. Are you happy?"
"What, that a psycho nutjob dark wizard is back and ready to start another war? Oh yeah, that makes me soooo happy." O'Bannon leaned forward a bit. "By the way, just so you know, that was sarcasm."
Sondra's face wrinkled in disgust. She shook her head. "Go ahead and make jokes. This new war, just like the last one, is all on your head."
"Huh?" He canted his head in puzzlement.
"I've been talking with Sondra all morning about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's return. She came up with some very interesting observations. The more I think about it, the more I believe she's right."
"Oh please, enlighten us," Jared scoffed. "I so want to hear your girlfriend's pearls of wisdom."
Sondra scowled at him. So did Mather, who responded, "Sondra believes, and I concur, that the blame for the last war and this one lies squarely at the feet of your kind." His narrow eyes targeted O'Bannon.
"What in the bloody name of Bartholomew Blazenrowe are you talking about?" His face scrunched in bewilderment.
"You! You Muggle-borns! You're the reason You-Know-Who started the last war, and why he's going to pick up where he left off."
"What!?" Jared's voice went up an octave.
"You're crazy, man." Dante shook his head, while Artimus stood in shocked silence.
"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard." Rosa glared at Merak Mather.
"I wouldn't expect any of you to believe it." Mather's eyes swept over Jared, Rosa, Artimus and Dante. "Not the way you worship at O'Bannon's feet."
"I don't believe it because it's a crock," Jared blurted. "Muggle-borns are responsible for the Big War? Excuse me, but wasn't it You-Know-Who who started it?"
"And why did he start it?" Mather pointed at Jared to emphasize his point. "What was You-Know-Who's primary reason for trying to take over the world?"
"The fact he's a megalomaniac," said Rosa.
"That's the simplistic answer. He wanted to rule the Wizarding World because he viewed it as impure. And what made it impure in his mind? Muggle-borns. Statistics show there has been a steady rise in the number of Muggle-borns on every continent over the past one hundred years. And look what happens when those people come into our world? They bring their deranged ideas and values with them. Sixty years ago who would have dreamed of Muggle-borns running for political office or outlawing physical punishments in schools or establishing laws forbidding the killing of garden gnomes or playing hockey at a wizarding school. We'd gotten along fine for hundreds of years before they foisted those things on us. Do you really think all real witches and wizards would be happy with those kinds of changes to our society? You have to expect some of them to resort to drastic measures to protect the Wizarding World. Therefore, if Muggle-borns would have been content with simply knowing their place and not meddle in things they know nothing about, You-Know-Who would never have felt the need to start the Big War."
"Shut up."
O'Bannon's head snapped in the direction of the voice. He also noticed Jared, Rosa and Dante, all with wide eyes, staring in the same direction. They all locked on Artimus, who gazed at Mather with a mixture of anger and trepidation.
"What did you say to me, Rand?"
"I . . . I said shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." Artimus' words came out in a torrent, one that had been building for seven years, if not all of his life. "If you want to blame someone for the war, blame You-Know-Who. He started it. Not Muggle-borns like Jimmy. He's been the best friend I could ever ask for. And . . . And the Wizarding World is better off having someone like him in it. That goes for pretty much all the other Muggle-borns here."
O'Bannon nearly burst inside. He noticed huge smiles spread across Jared's and Rosa's faces. My God, it actually happened. Seven years of prodding, of encouraging, of hoping, and their friend had finally done it.
Artimus Rand finally stood up to somebody.
Mather chuckled humorlessly and shook his head. "No wonder your father considers you the biggest disappointment in the Rand family."
Artimus sucked on his lip, his eyes narrowing at Mather.
"If anyone's a disappointment around here, it's you, Mather." Rosa practically spat out the words. "You're a disappointment to the whole human race."
"I . . . I don't care what my . . . my father thinks about me." Artimus' voice wavered.
"You don't care?" Mather chortled as he folded his arms. "Well, I'm sure you'll change your mind soon enough." He glanced at Sondra, who had a hand over her mouth as she snickered.
"What . . . what do you mean?" Artimus' neck muscles twitched.
"You know my father has friends in the Department of Magic. They're always getting together for cocktails or to take in a Quidditch match. Always talking about the latest happenings. My father owled me the other day with an interesting tidbit he heard from Flavius Fornlaven, the Deputy Secretary for Magical Education. It's all about the job you got at the Department. You know our fathers cross paths quite a bit. I'm sure my father has already told yours about the particular office you'll be working in. I wish I could have been there to see the look on Mister Rand's face when he found out."
The color drained from Artimus' face.
"Well, good luck explaining that to him." Mather held out his arm in front of him. Sondra Weaver snaked her arm around his. They both smirked and walked away.
Artimus stared at the ground, his body quivering.
"Art. You okay?" Rosa put an arm around him.
"C'mon, man." Jared slapped him on the shoulder. "Don't let Mather get to you like that. The guy's a dick."
"What did he mean by all that?" O'Bannon approached Artimus. "What kind of job did you get at the Department of Magic that would piss off your father?"
Artimus sighed, his shoulders sagging. Several long seconds passed before he looked up and told everyone where he would be working.
"Oooooh boy." O'Bannon's jaw hung open.
"Yeah, I can see where your dad wouldn't like that," Jared said.
"Were you planning to tell him?" asked Rosa.
"Yes," Artimus replied softly.
"When?"
Artimus chewed on his lip for a moment. "After graduation. Once I moved out."
NEXT: What is Artimus' controversial new job at the Department of Magic? Find out in "Ceremonies," the final chapter of Dark Horizon. Coming soon.