Author's Note: Yes, I know, it took me a long time to update...which I'm sorry for... but at least this chapter is very long (and I named the chapters!). It will probably take me a bit longer again to update - as I said before, my priority is my other fanfic "Servants of the Force". Also, I have to do lots of things for university right now... Despite all this, I hope there are still people who read this story. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter (review replies on my profile page). Ten days till HP and the Deathly Hallows!
Chapter 4
Obi-Wan did not like Hogwarts. To say he hated Hogwarts would not be good because a Jedi must not hate. But the feeling Obi-Wan had for this so-called school was pretty close to hate. The students' behaviour was unbelievable. No matter what he said: Nothing impressed those impudent kids. They did not seem to be aware of the fact that the school was there for them to learn something, that they needed to be prepared for their future. No, they seemed to think school was some sort of punishment. And playing pranks on Obi-Wan seemed to be a competition. He wondered if they behaved like that to the other teachers too. Or were the other teachers stricter and had earned their students' respect with their knowledge and power?
It was only his second day as a teacher at this school but he was already thoroughly exhausted. Today his briefcase had exploded. And that had been second years. He already dreaded the day when he had to teach the Gryffindor five years again. Maybe he should do what Anakin had suggested and get himself sacked.
That was, of course, out of question. Their mission was to protect this school from Voldemort and he could not simply run away from his responsibility. Though, more than once, the unbidden thought crept into Obi-Wan's mind that there was nothing worthwhile to protect about this school. Not very Jedi-like thoughts… He quickly released them into the Force.
Somehow, he would get through this mission. Hopefully quickly. He just hoped it would not affect his already complicated Padawan too much. It had been humiliating, utterly humiliating when his Padawan had laughed at him in that horrible situation. And it had hurt. It had hurt that they had made a mockery of him, that his Padawan had been involved in it and had enjoyed mocking his Master. A Padawan should never see his Master in such a situation. A Padawan should respect his Master. Respect was essential in a Master-Padawan-relationship. Obi-Wan was not much older than Anakin and sometimes it felt more as if they were brothers but he could not let that happen. It was important that his Padawan obeyed him. How else were they supposed to cooperate successfully?
He just whished he had not made such a fool of himself. If he had just taken the situation with stride… There was nothing dreadfully wrong with having a bit of fun from time to time but if it went beyond the limits of good taste… No, there certainly had to be limits and he, as a teacher, had the responsibility to teach the students about such limits. He could not tolerate everything just in order to be a nice or cool teacher.
Right now, Obi-Wan was trying to save what could still be used from the remnants of his exploded briefcase. He sighed deeply. The books which he had borrowed from the library only yesterday did not look good. A few pages were ripped or crumpled (some were even burned so much they were not readable anymore) and the covers were singed black. With a very bad feeling, Obi-Wan read once again the first page of the book Defensive Magical Theory by Wilbert Slinkhard:
A Warning: If you rip, tear, shred, bend, fold, deface, disfigure, smear, smudge, throw, drop, or in any other manner damage, mistreat or show lack of respect towards this book, the consequences will be as awful as it is within my power to make them.
Irma Pince, the Librarian.
I have a bad feeling about this, Obi-Wan thought worriedly. The librarian had already seemed slightly suspicious – or at least reluctant to let her books go – when Obi-Wan had emptied half the shelves which contained books about the Dark Arts. How could he ever explain this?
When he desperately tried to think up a suitable excuse for the strict librarian, someone knocked rather loudly on his door. "Yes, come in," he called.
There were his two least favourite students, the boy called Remus Lupin and another boy who tried to hide behind the others and whose name Obi-Wan did not know. Obi-Wan was immediately on red alert. He feared the worst. "Hello," he said politely, "what can I do for you?"
"We came here because of the last lesson," Sirius Black explained.
Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. They certainly had not come to apologise, had they?
Of course they had not come to apologise, Sirius's next words proved him right. "We heard that you gave Anakin detention," he stated accusingly.
Obi-Wan said nothing, so James Potter continued, "It's unfair of you to punish him. Just because he stayed when everyone else left. It's unfair. He's the last one who should get detention."
Obi-Wan eyed the boys sternly. "I think you should leave that decision to me."
"You're making a mistake, Professor," Remus Lupin said insistently. "He was not the one who was responsible for it. We did it."
"Yeah, it was my idea," James said and he sounded slightly proud of himself.
"I endowed the music," Sirius said.
"And I had the ingredients for the potion," Remus added.
"I threw the potion in your face," Sirius continued.
"And I put the Tarantallegra spell on you," James finished.
"Do you want me to congratulate you on your success?" Obi-Wan said sardonically. "I know very well it was not Anakin who did it." Because he can't brew such potions and because – fortunately – he can't make me do…things.
"Then why do you punish him for it?" James asked incredulously.
"I have my reasons," Obi-Wan replied curtly.
"Why?" James demanded to know.
"Because…"
"Because what?"
"Just because," Obi-Wan said impatiently. "You will not change my mind. I'm glad, of course, that you feel at least a bit guilty because your classmate is in such a situation. It's nice of you to stand up for him."
"We don't feel guilty," Sirius protested. "You should feel guilty."
For a moment, Obi-Wan was lost for words. And he had always thought Anakin was an impudent student. Compared to Sirius and James, he was as innocent as a lamb.
"Yes," James affirmed, "for punishing Anakin of all people. It's really, really unfair. I don't fucking understand! Why, in the name of –"
"Okay, that's enough," Obi-Wan tried to sound authoritatively. "Please either talk in a civilised way to me or leave my office."
"It's just unfair," James said once again and the other three boys nodded and murmured their agreement.
"Fine, I got that, you think it's unfair," Obi-Wan concluded. "If you insist, I can give you detention too." Actually, it was not such a bad idea. He randomly grabbed four thick books from his desk and thrust them into the boys' hands respectively. "Here, write me a summary of the books until Friday. I hope that satisfies your idea of justice. Is there anything else you wish to discuss with me?"
James and Sirius looked stunned, Remus looked worried and the fourth boy looked outright shocked. "You mean…until this Friday?" Remus asked uncertainly, warily eyeing the thick book in his hands. "You mean the Friday…the day after tomorrow?"
"Yes," Obi-Wan confirmed. "Maybe you should better get started now, shouldn't you?"
When the four boys seemingly subdued left his office, Obi-Wan silently congratulated himself on his victory against these troublemakers. Little did he know that he had just committed a very, very serious mistake. Everyone at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry knew: You'd better not mess with the Marauders.
ooooooo
Anakin had spent several hours in the library, trying to find some books which might help him with his Transfiguration homework. How, in the name of the almighty Force, was he to make snails vanish? He had tried of course to subtly "convince" Professor McGonagall that she did not see a snail anymore but it seemed Jedi mind tricks did not work on her. That only increased Anakin's suspicion against her. There was something decidedly fishy about that woman…
After several hours of fruitless research in the library under Madam Pince's watchful and highly suspicious eye, Anakin returned to the Gryffindor Tower in frustration where he met Sirius, James, Remus and Peter, who were engaged in a heated discussion.
"He's the worst person I've ever, ever met!" James ranted. "Worse than Avery, worse than Nott, worse than Snivellus!"
Remus raised one eyebrow, slightly amused as it seemed. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."
"He's crazy," Peter stated, looking dumbfounded at an extremely thick book in his hands. "How am I ever going to read it and write a summary of it in just two days? And I have to understand it on top of everything. Look, that's not even proper language!" He held up the book so the others could read its title: Magick Most Evile.
"Oh, you have to summarise such books too?" Anakin joined in the conversation. "I had to do it yesterday too and I bet I'm in for it this evening again. You got a really thick one," he told Peter sympathetically.
"Do you think you could help me with it?" Peter asked hopefully.
"PETER!" James shouted, outraged. "You don't honestly plan to actually do this, do you?!"
"Erm, do I?" Peter said, looking a bit taken aback. "I…I thought…"
"You better leave the thinking to the rest of us," Sirius said.
Peter flushed and nervously shuffled his feet. "Uh, so what were you thinking?"
Sirius looked around at the four of them and said solemnly, "Fellow Marauders…and Anakin: This calls for revenge." Anakin winced upon hearing the last word. Where had he gotten himself into? Sirius extended his hand and the other three boys put their hands on top of his.
"What about you?" James addressed Anakin. "Are you in on it?"
"In on what?" Anakin asked nervously.
"Preparing a nice next lesson for Kenobi," James said, his eyes sparking in anticipation.
Anakin's stomach dropped. Oh no. Not again. "I…I don't think that's a good idea," he said lamely.
"I agree with him," Remus supported him. "We shouldn't blow it with Professor Kenobi. He seems to be someone who is not able to take a joke."
"Well, I know it is a very good idea," Sirius said, grinning mischievously.
"Come on, Anakin, it's going to be fun," James said.
"No. I…can't do this. You see, I have already detention and I don't want to get some more."
"Hey, we have detention too," James encouraged him. "There's an easy way to avoid it: You simply don't do your detention."
"No, I… Sorry, I will not take part in this," Anakin muttered. The others looked at him, frowning. "I've still got so much homework to do," he helplessly babbled on, "and I'm new at this school and I don't want to get into trouble right at the beginning…" The other boys looked disappointed but fortunately they left it at that.
ooooooo
There was one thing Obi-Wan liked about Hogwarts: The food. In the Jedi Temple, you always had to choose your food very carefully. With all the different species and their special nutritional needs, there were always things which you should try to avoid. Food for Mon Calamarians, for example, tended to be horribly oversalted. And, worst of all, Yoda's stews. In Hogwarts, however, the food was finely adjusted to human taste.
Helping himself to another portion of mashed potatoes, Obi-Wan was able to relax slightly after yet another horrendous day. Their secret contact had just informed him about the details of their current mission. His Padawan had not shown up at the meeting, which had annoyed Obi-Wan very much. Why could the boy not be more reliable?!
Obi-Wan had given detention to seven more students today, he had taken sixty-eight points from Gryffindor, fifty-eight points from Slytherin, twenty-five point from Hufflepuff and ten points from Ravenclaw. The seventh year NEWT-level class had tormented him with questions about Parseltongues today and it had been a hard time to pretend to know something about the subject. A third year Gryffindor had used a tickling charm on him and he had had to leave the classroom to calm down his uncontrollable giggling. He had tripped into two vanishing steps – and several students had witnessed it and clearly enjoyed themselves. Last but not least, he had really got into trouble with the librarian and from now on, he was banned from the library for the rest of his life, as Madam Pince had put it.
"Well, Professor Kenobi, how were your first days at Hogwarts?" Professor Flitwick, who sat next to him at the table, addressed him.
"It was…okay," Obi-Wan lied bluntly.
Flitwick smiled cheerfully at him. "So you like it here?"
"Yes. Very much." Obi-Wan quickly took a sip of his pumpkin juice to hide his grimace.
"That's good to hear. I've been teaching here for years and there's nothing in the world I'd rather do."
"Ah," Obi-Wan commented, thinking wistfully of all the other things in the world he would rather do.
"So have you already had the pleasure to meet the Marauders?"
"Erm…"
"Gryffindor, fifth year, the worst troublemakers of the school –"
"Oh yes, sure, I've met them," Obi-Wan stated, rolling his eyes.
Flitwick giggled. "I take it they already played a prank on you? Oooh, you have no idea what they have already done to me," Flitwick said enthusiastically. "They're brilliant, I've seldom seen such creative hexes and perfect spellwork in pranks before."
"If only they were as brilliant in class as their pranks are..."
"They are. Well, most of the time they just don't pay attention to the lessons. But occasionally they do behave themselves. They're nice boys, good at heart."
"I'm sure they are."
Seeming not to notice the bitter irony in Obi-Wan's voice, Flitwick continued pleasantly, "I'm sure you will soon earn their respect. You must be a good teacher."
What?! Whatever had given Flitwick that idea?! Obi-Wan chose to say nothing in return but just frowned very hard.
"You taught Anakin Skywalker before he came to Hogwarts, didn't you? I saw he's far ahead of his classmates. I've never seen a fifth year performing nonverbal spells so effortlessly. It's really astounding."
Obi-Wan felt like shaking his head disapprovingly at Anakin's behaviour but instead he forced a tight smile. "Yes, he's very talented in nonverbal spells." I think we need to have a serious discussion this evening, Padawan.
ooooooo
Anakin was tired. He had worked day and night during the last days, had read books and written essays, homework, detention… It was taking its toll on him. Exhaustedly, he trudged through the Gryffindor common room to go to yet another evening of long and boring detention in Obi-Wan's office.
"You shouldn't go there again."
"Huh?" Anakin looked up in surprise to find himself face to face with James, who stood in front of the portrait hole.
"It's not right, Anakin," James insisted. "You can't let him do that to you."
"It's alright," Anakin muttered tiredly. "Don't worry." He was not in the mood to argue.
James, however, did not give up that easily. "Why do you never do anything against it? Why do you just accept it?"
In spite of himself, Anakin had to grin. Tell that to the Jedi. Tell them I'm too accepting and not rebellious enough. "It's just a bit of writing," he assured James.
James did not look happy but he finally let Anakin pass through the portrait hole. "But remember to ask him if you can get a free evening tomorrow," he reminded Anakin for the eighth time this day, "because of Quidditch training."
"Sure. See you."
Anakin really hoped Obi-Wan was in a good mood today. He had done some research on Quidditch and it sounded like lots of fun. Besides, he did not know how James would take the news if Anakin was not allowed to take part in Quidditch training. He would probably plan a new and even more evil prank on Obi-Wan and that was something Anakin would rather try to avoid.
Anakin knocked on Obi-Wan's door, bowed politely as a good Padawan should do and said, "Good evening, Master."
"Padawan."
Involuntarily, Anakin ducked his head. That did not sound good.
"Why haven't you come to the meeting with our contact?" Obi-Wan asked in an accusing tone.
Oh no! Anakin winced. He had completely forgotten about that! "I'm sorry, Master. I…forgot." It was not a very clever thing to say but lying to your Master would get you in even more trouble.
"You forgot."
"Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master."
"Do you know why we're here, Padawan?"
"Yes, Master."
"Remind me again."
"Because we have a mission to do."
"Exactly." Obi-Wan crossed his arms over his chest and sent Anakin one of his sternest Master-glares. "And what was so important that distracted you from our mission?"
"Homework. Lots of homework. I have no idea what the teachers talk about, I don't understand a word and I don't know how to do my homework – I've already worked on the Transfiguration homework for days and it takes me hours to write just a few sentences because I have to look up everything in the library and I don't know in which book to look and –"
"Stop rambling, Padawan," Obi-Wan interrupted him. Relieved, Anakin realised his Master did not sound as annoyed anymore as before. "To sum it up: There are rumours of Lord Voldemort planning to attack this school soon. He is a wizard who is very powerful in the dark arts. His followers, the Death Eaters, always wear black masks, that's how we can recognise them. Also, they have a symbol, it's called the Dark Mark, an image of a green skull and a snake, which they conjure up in the sky. They only use their wands to attack, they don't have other weapons."
"Well, then we shouldn't have a problem, should we?"
"There is indeed a problem," Obi-Wan said gravely. "Do you have your lightsaber with you?"
"Of course, Master."
"Activate it."
Not knowing what exactly his Master wanted him to do, Anakin unhooked his lightsaber from his belt and ignited it. Well, he tried to ignite it. But nothing happened. He pressed the power button again and again – in vain. "Kriff! What the – That can't be possible, I've just reloaded the power cells a few days ago!" Blushing with embarrassment (carrying a malfunctioning lightsaber with him was certainly the worst he could do in Obi-Wan's opinion), Anakin furiously fumbled with his lightsaber and started dismantling it.
"Anakin, when will you ever learn not to act so rashly?" Obi-Wan scolded him. "You can't fix it. It will not work."
Confused, Anakin looked up from the pieces of his disassembled lightsaber. "What do you mean, it will not work?"
"Mine doesn't work either."
Anakin breathed in relief. "Okay, that's good."
"That's good?!" Obi-Wan repeated, scandalised. "What is so good about the fact that our lightsabers do not work anymore?"
"Uh, nothing, it's just good that it wasn't me who forgot to reload the power cells or something like that. If it was just my lightsaber that didn't function, you'd lecture me now, wouldn't you?"
"And that would be so much worse than being completely defenceless with none of our lightsabers working?"
"Yes," Anakin said with conviction.
Obi-Wan sighed deeply. "Very well. If you see it like that… Your or my death would mean the end to your long suffering of having to endure my lectures. The chances of that are pretty high without our lightsabers to rely on."
"Really, Master, you must be more flexible", Anakin said superiorly. "You shouldn't rely only on your weapon. A weapon can be lost or destroyed but the Force will be with you, always. You must trust in the Force." He grinned complacently. He really liked lecturing his Master. A few seconds later, however, the grin froze on his face. Suddenly he understood the full implications of what was going on. Anakin gaped. "Oh no. Someone manipulated our lightsabers!"
"No, it's not as dramatic as that. Lightsabers – and all other technology for that matter – just do not work in Hogwarts castle."
Anakin shook his head in face of Obi-Wan's ignorance. "Excuse me, Master, but this just shows once again that you have no idea of technology. There's nothing which would simply stop all technological things from functioning. Something like that just doesn't exist. It cannot exist. Or can you explain to me what kind of highly intelligent device could keep all the different technological things from working?"
Obi-Wan gave him a bemused look. "I'm sorry, my young Padawan learner, but this shows once again that you have no idea of the power of the Force, magic, religion or other things people believe in."
"Oh." Grinning sheepishly, Anakin bit his lip. "So it's magic, right?"
"Indeed. For some reason, magic and technology cannot coexist. In a place like Hogwarts, which is so full of powerful, ancient magic, technology doesn't stand a chance."
Impressed, Anakin looked at his Master. "How do you know all this stuff?"
"I happened to be at an important meeting where I was informed of such stuff by our contact."
Oh dear, I really put my foot in it - again, Anakin mentally berated himself. "You know, Master, I'm really sorry I wasn't there."
"Yes, Anakin, I know."
"I'm truly sorry, Master."
"Yes, I got it. Maybe, in the future, you could try to behave in a way that you don't have to say 'Sorry, Master' quite so often? I imagine it must be quite humiliating."
"You have no idea… Well, did you have to apologise to your Master as often as I have to apologise to you?"
"No."
"I thought so… I'm really sorry you have to bear with me."
"Yes. Instead of apologising all the time, you could try to be nice for a change."
"Yes, Master." After apologising for his existence and everything else, Anakin thought now was probably the time to ask Obi-Wan about Quidditch training. His Master seemed in a slightly better mood now. "Master?" he said politely.
"Yes?"
"Tomorrow, there are the tryouts of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I was wondering if I could take part in it? I could catch up on the detentions another day…?"
Obi-Wan frowned. "In what exactly do you want to take part in?"
"Quidditch. It's a wizard sport. They fly on –"
"Padawan!" Obi-Wan interrupted him sharply. "Do I have to remind you again why we're here? We're not here for you to enjoy yourself. I work myself to death and you think you have nothing better to do than flying?!" The last word was uttered with sheer revulsion.
"It's just one evening, and James asked me again and again if I would come," Anakin tried but was again interrupted by his Master.
"No. I forbid you to take part in it."
"You're being unfair, Master," Anakin complained. "It's not as if I'm lazy or something like that. I have to work really hard if I don't want to look suspicious because I don't understand anything in class."
"Well, then you'd better spend your time on studying than on showing off."
"What?!" Anakin angrily glared at Obi-Wan. "I'm not showing off!"
"Professor Flitwick told me something entirely else today. He seemed really impressed by your unnatural abilities in performing nonverbal spells. Is it really necessary to try to impress everyone so much? Don't you get enough appraisal at the Jedi Temple?"
Being suddenly close to angry tears, Anakin bit his lip very hard. Yes, he did not get enough appraisal at the Jedi Temple, especially a certain Jedi Master never acknowledged his achievements but that was not the point now. "I did not do it do show off," he snarled through gritted teeth. "You told me to use the Force when I am supposed to do magic and that's all I did. How should I know it's not normal for a fifth year to be so good at nonverbal spells?"
"Maybe you should have paid more attention to the other students," Obi-Wan lectured him. "How many times do I have to tell you again to be mindful of your surroundings?"
"I know this lecture," Anakin muttered.
"What did I tell you before this mission?" Obi-Wan said in a perfectly controlled voice.
"How should I know?" Anakin exploded. "You told me loads of things, of course you did, you always lecture me all the time! Which lecture do you want me to recite now? This weapon is you life? Or: Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to the dark side of the Force? Maybe: Control your impatience, my very young Padawan learner?"
"I told you not to draw too much attention to yourself," Obi-Wan said rather coldly.
"Yeah, I'm sorry!" Anakin spat, not meaning a word of it. "Do you think you do better? You're not such a convincing magic teacher either! The whole school's talking about you being such a horrible teacher! You call that not drawing attention to yourself? That's just unfair!"
"Okay, that's enough," Obi-Wan said in a harsh voice. It seemed Anakin had hit a nerve. "Start with your detention now. And by the way, I think you're far too old to send others to help you get out of this. You're old enough to accept responsibility for your actions and therefore you have to live with the consequences of your mistakes. I don't want you to send your friends to me to complain again, is that understood, Padawan?"
"Excuse me?" Anakin said incredulously. "I didn't send anyone to complain."
"Then what gives them the idea that it's unfair of me to punish you instead of them?"
"Well, maybe they simply have a normal sense of justice! I don't understand it either: Why do you punish only me for what happened?"
"Because you're my Padawan and they are not."
It was said with such finality that Anakin knew he had lost the argument. "I just wish you'd believe me once," he muttered, staring angrily down at the books waiting for him to read them through. "I didn't send them to you. But you never believe me. I'm always the bad boy, right? Every time I get into a fight with one of the other Padawans, it's always me who is the meanie. You always only believe Ferus Olin and the others."
"Start with you work now," Obi-Wan said calmly.
Not deigning him a glance, Anakin grabbed the quill (and almost broke it in his anger) and started scratching the parchment furiously as if all of this was its fault.
After several hours, Anakin's anger at the quill and the parchment seemed wholly justified. He still had not got used to that way of writing and the pain in his fingers and wrist had got worse with each slowly passing evening of detention. And he was so tired… He had not been able to go to bed before midnight for days. All of that would have been bearable if Obi-Wan would just speak a few words from time to time. Anakin hated the strained silence between them. It made him all jittery, causing his scratchy writing to look even worse. He could cope with rebukes, lectures and scolding (after all, he practically got that every day) but he could not cope with this silence.
Another problem about the silence was that it did nothing to distract you from your tiredness. The thick droplets of rain which drummed against the window did their bit. It was already dark outside and inside the room it was so pleasantly warm…
Anakin forced his eyes to stay open and proceeded with the next paragraph. He frowned very hard because he did not understand a word of it. What was the last thing he had read? He reread the last sentences he had written and frowned even more upon doing so.
Dark creatures are a physical embodiment of dark magic!!!
Manticores: not evil, predator, only attack because I'm hungry
Bun cheese: dark dark, sing
Nothing of it made sense anymore. Suppressing a deep sigh of exhaustion, Anakin went on reading the book.
Earlier, people believed banshees were only messengers of death. Recent research, however, discovered that their singing is actually the cause of death. Seeing that there is no purpose behind their attack but sheer malice, banshees must be classified as dark creatures now as well. One counterargument often raised against this classification is that banshees do have a reason to sing people to death: they want their victim's clothes. Whether this is a valid justification…
ooooooo
Anakin woke up, sprawled over books and parchment. Disoriented, he blinked a few times until he remembered that he was in Obi-Wan's office where he was supposed to do his detention. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping but he felt even more tired now than before. Lifting his head from his hard pillow of books, he nervously took a look around. Fortunately, Obi-Wan was nowhere to be seen. Anakin would never hear the end of it if Obi-Wan found out he had fallen asleep during detention. He looked at the last notes he had taken:
Bun cheese: dark dark, sing, dark creatures, not dark because she need clothes
Anakin groaned. Very intelligent. How was anyone going to understand what that meant? Even he himself did not understand it. Using the Force to call the quill in his aching hand, Anakin crossed out the whole "sentence".
"Slept well?"
Jumping slightly in his chair, Anakin looked up to see Obi-Wan standing in the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. "Sorry, Master," Anakin muttered. It was a lame thing to say of course but his sleep-fogged brain refused to come up with something more intelligent.
"Would you like some cocoa?"
"Hm?" Anakin blinked his sleepy eyes open, trying to figure out what his Master was talking about.
"It's something to drink," Obi-Wan explained.
"Ah," Anakin concluded.
A few moments later, Obi-Wan placed a mug with something steaming hot and smelling nice in front of Anakin. A part of him registered in relief that Obi-Wan did not seem to be angry at him anymore, not even for falling asleep.
"Thanks," Anakin mumbled and grabbed the big mug. Unfortunately, his exhausted hands failed him and the mug fell down, spilling its hot, brown, sticky content over the parchment and the books.
"Oh no," Anakin and Obi-Wan said in unison.
Anakin briefly closed his eyes. Obi-Wan is going to kill me.
"Madam Pince is going to kill me," Obi-Wan lamented.
For a moment of stunned silence, the two of them watched the thick liquid soak the parchment and the books. There was nothing they could do. When the first thick droplet dropped on the floor, Obi-Wan let out a long, weary sigh. Anakin bit down all the nasty swearwords he had on his tongue. Sighing once more, Obi-Wan seized the corner of the parchment with two fingers, fished it out of the mess and examined it. The brown liquid had blurred the ink. Everything Anakin had written tonight had become unreadable.
"Oh dear," Obi-Wan muttered. "All your work today…for nothing."
"Well, what I wrote was crap anyway." Anakin did not particularly regret the damage of his scribblings.
Obi-Wan tiredly rubbed his forehead. "Well, I guess it's time to go to bed."
"I agree."
"Goodnight, Padawan. Come here tomorrow again after your Kwittix training."
Anakin pricked up his ears. "I'm allowed to go there?" he asked hopefully.
"Yes, yes," Obi-Wan shrugged it off. "We wouldn't want you to draw attention to yourself by not coming, right?"
"Sure." Anakin smiled broadly. Sometimes his Master could be likeable. "Thanks, Master. Goodnight." Already feeling much better, Anakin went off to the Gryffindor tower.
"And Anakin?" Obi-Wan called him back. "There's a vanishing step in the staircase upwards. Don't trip into it. It's the seventh step."
"Alright, I will be careful." Everything looked much brighter now. There was only this one problem that he did not know how to do Quidditch. Hopefully he would not make a fool of himself. He was thinking up a good excuse for his presumably poor Quidditch qualities (maybe he could tell everyone his father had never allowed him to play Quidditch because he thought it was too dangerous), when suddenly he stumbled.
"Ouch!" he cursed. "What the –" He glared down at his right foot, which was stuck in a gap between the steps. "Anakin Skywalker, you're the dumbest idiot ever," he scolded himself while trying in vain to free his foot.
"How true," someone behind him remarked in a dry voice.
Anakin's face reddened remarkably when he recognised the voice as his Master's. "I'm, uh, in a, uh… I was, uh, it was not…"
Obi-Wan grabbed him under the arms, pulled him out of the gap and scrutinised him critically. Anakin could tell he had to refrain very hard from grinning and rolling his eyes. "Why do you never listen to me?"
"I'm sorry, Master."
Obi-Wan gave him a little pat on the back. "Go to bed now. And be careful with the stairs."
"I'll try." His cheeks still burning with embarrassment, Anakin made his way back to his dormitory. This time, he double-checked each step.