For the first time since he learned he was a wizard, Jimmy O'Bannon hated being at the Salem Witches Institute.
Bad enough most of the students here didn't believe him about Lord Voldemort's return. He could deal with their glares and cold shoulders so long as Rosa, Jared and Artimus stuck by his side.
Now he didn't even have that.
None of them had spoken to him since that disastrous hockey game against Ardenturo three days ago.
Well, if they're waiting for an apology, they can forget it.
Did any of them realize how important that game had been to him? That was his debut as the Blazenrowe captain. Everyone expected him to go out there and knock Ardenturo off their high horse.
What happened instead? No one on the ice respected his authority. They played selfishly, they played sloppy, and they embarrassed him and the entire dorm.
And everyone's upset I went off on them? They deserved it the way they played.
O'Bannon snorted as he trudged into Potions Class. He noticed Jared and Rosa sitting at a table near the front. Both looked over their shoulders, noticed him, and turned back around.
Fine. Whatever.
He spotted Artimus sitting with Cecilia Malfoy. Was it just him or had those two become chummier over the past couple of days?
O'Bannon found an empty table near the back and dropped his text book and cauldron on it, making a loud bang. He plopped into the seat and slouched, wishing Rana was in this class.
But would she want to sit next to me?
After the loss the Ardenturo, he purposefully avoided Rana for the rest of the day. The next morning she found him in the Blazenrowe Hall parlor, asking if he was all right.
"Yeah, I'm friggin' peachy."
"Jimmy, I know it sucks to lose to Ardenturo, but moping about it isn't going to . . ."
"Well, maybe I like moping about it," he practically snapped at her.
Anger lines marred her pretty face. "Fine. I'll come back when you stop acting like a five-year-old."
Rana stormed back upstairs.
They'd barely spoken since.
O'Bannon continued to slouch, contemplating his fingernails. He found it ironic that this time last year he hated it at Hogwarts and wanted to be back at Salem. Now the situation was reversed. Of course, Hogwarts was no picnic either from what Fred and George wrote. But even with that Umbridge bitch, the shenanigans by the Ministry of Magic and a school full of skeptics, being at Hogwarts would be much preferable to being here.
A banging door shattered his quiet contemplation. He watched a hefty wizard with receding gray hair and pug face stomping into the classroom.
O'Bannon groaned. Mister Korvette appeared in a more miserable mood than usual.
He slammed his notes and texts on the desk, the bang echoing loudly throughout the classroom. A few students jumped. Hands on his hips, Korvette glowered at the class.
"I am missing four ounces of asp scales. I want to know who took them, and I want to know now!"
The man's accusatory eyes darted around the room, lingering on the Muggle-born students, including O'Bannon. That didn't surprise him. From the first week of class he picked up less-than-subtle hints Korvette wasn't very found of Muggle-borns.
"Nobody knows. Of course. You think you can steal from me and get away with it? Well I'll tell you the same thing I'm telling all my other classes. I want those asp scales on my desk before sunrise tomorrow or every student I have will spend all day Saturday collecting Shrethrikker Vine sap."
Several groans went up among the students, O'Bannon included. He'd dealt with Shrethrikker Vines in his Second Year Herbology class. The things were covered with razor-like studs and loved to thrash about like an enraged squid. They may not be deadly, but if you walked away from them with only a dozen cuts, you could consider yourself lucky.
"Don't complain," Korvette snarled. "Just return my asp scales."
O'Bannon sighed. He missed his old Potions teacher, Mister Hillenbrand. While the guy seriously lacked a personality, he was a pretty decent teacher. Unfortunately, he decided to open his own Apothecary shop near Portland, Maine after last term.
I leave one asshole Potions teacher at Hogwarts only to get another one here. Lucky me.
"Turn to page seventy-nine in your books," Mister Korvette said sharply. "Today you'll be making Bestia Pareo Potion. With it, you'll be able to tame the most dangerous beasts, from dragons to chimaeras. Now get your ingredients and get to work . . . and don't think of stealing the tiniest pinch of anything, or by Merlin I'll make you wish you were never born."
"I'm already starting to wish that," O'Bannon grumbled under his breath.
He shuffled to the cabinets at the back of the class with the other students. For a moment he caught Jared's eye, but he just sneered and turned away. Artimus deliberately did not face him, while Cecilia regarded him with a stony expression.
O'Bannon snatched the proper ingredients and returned to his desk. He tried to focus on mixing the potion properly, but other thoughts pierced his concentration. How long would Jared, Artimus and Rosa be mad at him? Should he apologize to them? What about Rana? What about the hockey team? They had practice this afternoon. Would any of them show up?
To O'Bannon's surprise, he found he didn't care one way or the other. Hell, after Saturday's fiasco, he wouldn't mind forfeiting the rest of the season.
O'Bannon scooped a teaspoon full of powdered horse teeth and held it over his cauldron when the classroom door opened.
"Excuse me, Mister Korvette. I'm sorry to interrupt."
O'Bannon's eyes widened in surprise. He whipped around, as did everyone else in the classroom.
A short witch with gray hair spilling out her pointed hat entered the classroom. Behind her was a slender woman with stringy black hair in a short ponytail and horn-rimmed glasses.
"Good morning, Headmistress," Korvette said without a hint of pleasantry.
Headmistress Esmeralda gave him a brief grin and pointed a hand toward the younger witch. "I just wanted to introduce you all to Katerina Ponce. She's with the Department of Magic's Office of Educational Reform. She'll be with us for a few weeks, observing classes and chronicling what works here at Salem and what needs improving."
A sour look fell over Korvette's face.
"I apologize for any inconvenience I'm puttin' on y'all," Ponce spoke with one of the thickest Southern accents O'Bannon had ever heard. "I promise I won't do a thing to disrupt your studies. I'll just sit in the back quiet as a mouse. Y'all won't even know I'm here."
Ponce moved toward an empty table toward the back of the room.
"Well, I hope you'll all make Miss Ponce feel welcome," said the Headmistress. "Now, please return to . . ."
A loud crash came from the back of the classroom. O'Bannon and the others turned to see Miss Ponce pick up the chair she had knocked over.
"Sorry about that," she said with a sheepish grin.
O'Bannon rolled his eyes. Quiet as a mouse. Yeah, a mouse the size of a kraken.
Headmistress Esmeralda departed. Mister Korvette shot a steely gaze toward Miss Ponce before returning to his desk. The teacher muttered something under his breath, but O'Bannon didn't pick it up.
By the end of class O'Bannon's potion had congealed into a frozen dark green substance, looking nothing like the colored drawing in his text book. Mister Korvette snorted a second after he stared into O'Bannon's cauldron.
"Please do the Wizarding World a favor, Mister O'Bannon. After you graduate, stay out of any job that requires you to mix potions."
O'Bannon said nothing. He just sighed loudly as Korvette moved on to bitch about someone else's potion.
Once Korvette finished evaluating everyone's potion, O'Bannon went to the wash basin to clean out his cauldron. He had to use a Shattering Charm to break up the solid mass that was his botched potion.
"And I'm going to examine every jar in the cabinets and make sure you haven't stolen anything else of mine, and Merlin help you if you did!"
"Whatever," O'Bannon grumbled as he went back to his desk to retrieve his book.
"Oh, excuse me, Mister Korvette, Sir." Miss Ponce stood up. O'Bannon couldn't get over the thickness of her accent. She sounded like she could fit right in with the cast of Gone With The Wind . . . or more likely The Dukes of Hazzard.
"Yes, Miss Ponce?" Korvette all but snarled.
She just smiled wide. "I was just wondering if I could impose on you just a little. Before you go through all your stuff back there, I wanted to use your classroom to interview some of your students. It won't take more than a bit."
Korvette glowered at the Department of Magic bureaucrat. "Fine."
He stomped toward the door. O'Bannon caught some of what he was muttering.
" . . . don't think I know how to run a Potions Class on my own . . ."
Korvette slammed the door behind him.
Ponce jerked a bit in response, then turned to everyone with her toothy grin. "All right, now. If the following students would please stay here." She held a piece of parchment in front of her. "Kirby, Terrance F. Hale, Penelope D. Ngor, Lia. O'Bannon, James M."
O'Bannon grimaced. He hated being called James.
He, Penelope and Lia waited outside while Miss Ponce spoke with Kirby. The girls chatted near the door while he sat on a landscape boulder surrounded by flowers, gazing around campus at the red and orange leaves hanging from the trees. A half-smile briefly graced his lips. The onset of autumn always made Salem look beautiful.
He lowered his eyes, wishing Rana was sitting next to him to share this with him. Actually, he really wished he could go back in time and stop himself from snapping at her. She hadn't been on the hockey team. It wasn't her fault they played like crap.
And what about Rosa and Jared? They actually played hard against Ardenturo. But maybe they could have done more to help him hold the team together.
"Mister O'Bannon. You're next."
He turned around and saw no sign of Penelope Hale or Lia Ngor. He only saw Miss Ponce standing in the doorway. Had she already finished with the other three?
O'Bannon slid off the rock and walked back to the Potions classroom. The smiling Miss Ponce directed him to one of the rear tables. She sat next to him, quill in hand.
"How're y'all doing today, Mister O'Bannon," she asked sweetly.
"Been better."
"Oh, sorry to hear that. Seventh Year is always the hardest to get through, isn't it?"
"Yeah." O'Bannon shrugged, wanting to get this interview over as soon as possible.
"Well, we best get started. Now, for my report to the Office of Educational Reform, I wanted to get the opinions of the students, how they feel about their classes and teachers and the like. Now, if you have problems with a teacher, please do not be afraid to express them. I assure you the identities of all the students I interview will be kept confidential."
"Okay."
"Great." Miss Ponce beamed at him. "Now first, what is your opinion of the subject matter of this class?"
"It's all right. I mean, we come in, mix some potions, and that's it. Pretty simple."
"Uh-huh." Miss Ponce scribbled a few things on her parchment. "How would you describe your teacher, Mister Korvette?"
O'Bannon worked his jaw back and forth. He could go on for an hour about what a jagoff the guy was. But what if his response somehow got out and he learned about it. He'd be lucky to get a "D" for Dreadful in this class.
Like it matters. Besides, she said she'd keep everyone's identity confidential.
O'Bannon gave her an earful about Mister Korvette's unpleasant demeanor and his prejudice toward Muggle-borns.
"Heck, just today he threw a fit, saying someone stole some asp scales. He stared at us Muggle-borns a lot more than anyone else."
"Uh-huh." Miss Ponce acted rather indifferently to his revelation. She just jotted down more notes.
"Now I understand you're captain of your h . . . hall's hockey team."
O'Bannon slumped in his seat. "Yeah."
"Well that's interesting. I have a Muggle-born friend who took me to a few games in Carolina to see the Panthers."
O'Bannon's brow furrowed. "Um, don't you mean the Hurricanes? The Panthers play in Florida."
"What? Oh yes. Of course. You're right."
Miss Ponce shifted her chair to face him directly. "So. What's your favorite hockey team?"
A quizzical look came over O'Bannon. What did any of this have to do with educational reform at Salem?
"The Boston Bruins."
Miss Ponce's eyes lit up. "Oh. That must be exciting, getting to watch Wayne Grass-key all the time."
O'Bannon did a double-take. "What? Don't you mean Wayne Gretzky?"
"Oh yeah. Sorry about that."
"And he never played for the Bruins."
Hinkey hairs went up on the back of O'Bannon's neck. What was this women's deal?
His mind catapulted him back to Hogwarts and Defense Against the Dark Arts with Mad-Eye Moody . . . or the Death Eater disguised as Mad-Eye. Imposter or not, all his warnings came back to O'Bannon. "Always be alert . . . Trust your gut . . . never let your guard down."
His hand slid closer to the pocket where he kept his wand.
"So as a Bruins fan," Miss Ponce went on, "you must really hate -"
"Excuse me," he interrupted. "What the hell does this have to do with -"
"Please answer the question," the woman said with surprising sharpness.
Icy pinpricks went up O'Bannon's spine. His heart raced. Something was seriously wrong here.
Miss Ponce's pleasant Southern Belle tone completely vanished. "Now, as a Bruins fan, I'm sure you must really hate the Buffalo Sabres."
O'Bannon took quick, deep breaths, trying to settle himself. His fingers moved closer to his wand. Did Miss Ponce notice?
"No," he responded flatly. "I hate the Montreal Canadiens and the New York Rangers."
A sly grin formed on Miss Ponce's lips. "That's all I needed to know."
O'Bannon held his breath, yanked out his wand and jumped out of his seat. The chair he sat on toppled over. He leveled his wand at Miss Ponce.
"Relax, Jimmy Boy!" She held out an open palm.
O'Bannon froze. Jimmy Boy? The only ones who called him that were . . .
Fred and George Weasley.
"Who are you?" O'Bannon didn't lower his wand. "What the hell's goin' on here?"
"Just relax. I'll show you."
Miss Ponce's eyes narrowed, looking as though she was concentrating intently on something.
Seconds later her face quivered and reformed, looking more heart-shaped than before. Her hair also receded and became spiky . . . and changed color from black to fluorescent green.
Miss Ponce checked her reflection in the glass window of a nearby cabinet. "There. That's better."
She removed her glasses and stood. O'Bannon still aimed his wand at her.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Jimmy," Miss Ponce, or whoever she really was, now spoke with a British accent. "Fred and George told me so much about you over the summer."
O'Bannon lowered his wand as the woman extended her hand.
"The Order of the Phoenix sent me here to help. My name is Tonks."
TO BE CONTINUED