Author's Before-Note for Chapter 3
Aren't you glad I keep my promises? I believe my exact words were "coming SOON." I know. I KNOW! What has it even been? Three...four months?! I'm a terrible person. I feel just awful. Anyway, like I announced on my GooglePlus profile, I should have chapters 4 and 5 up within the next week or so. Also, I'm hoping my new semester schedule will allow me to post at least one chapter per week on Saturday or Sunday, although we all know how that worked out last time. This semester should at least be a bit easier for me, since I actually kind-of know what I'm doing now. I'm at least trying to make this up to you guys. Now, without further ado, Chapter 3, you ungrateful peasants...
CHAPTER 3 - THE LIMPER
Once Madame Pomfrey had tended to Phoebe, she rushed past Professor McGonagall and waved her wand over the boy's body, immediately healing his broken bones.
"Mr. Price," she cooed. "Can you stand for me, please? I'm going to have to move you to a new bed now."
She wrapped her arm under his and walked him to the closest bed with fresh sheets for him to stain. Yet, after what had just occurred, Professor McGonagall could not understand how Madame Pomfrey could possibly be treating this monster with such gentleness.
"Poppy! I hardly think we want to keep him here after we clearly established he can't be held here safely. Perhaps we should consider keeping him in a more secure location."
"He's not a prisoner, Minerva. He's a patient. He's not going to hurt anyone."
"Anyone ELSE you mean? He's just hurt young Miss Walker here."
Both adult witches turned to look back at Phoebe who was slumped over in her make-shift office chair, staring at Price with an expression of disgust. They glanced back at each other and jumped into the tasks for which they each had visited the infirmary in the first place. Madame Pomfrey began refreshing the newly compliant patient's bandages while Professor McGonagall drew from her robes a stack of parchment filled with questions and briefings.
"Miss Walker." This time Professor McGonagall assumed a cooing voice, directing it at the stunned student. "Would you please wait in Madame Pomfrey's office for a few minutes while we sort things out? We shouldn't be long, and Madame Pomfrey will come and fetch you when we're done here."
As if in a daze, Phoebe slowly rose from the chair and hobbled out of the eerie hall, now assuming the darkness of the dusk outside, and into Poppy's warmly lit office. She sat curled up in the cushioned armchair for over an hour, shivering from the shock of recent events rather than cold, exploring the medicine-strewn shelves with her eyes.
Right before the overwhelming isolation of the office forced her to crack and rejoin her company, the handcrafted door swung open, and Poppy entered.
"I apologize for having kept you waiting, although I'm sure you weren't ready to go back to your dormitory quite yet anyway. Are you alright?"
Phoebe grasped her throat with one small hand but nodded slowly without changing her gaze.
"Professor McGonagall and I have decided it would be for the best if you continued your formal education away from the infirmary. I've decided...you're not quite ready for practical application. If you study hard in and outside of classes, I'm sure you'll do fine in your higher learning preliminaries. In short, I don't want you in the infirmary for the foreseeable future. I'll continue to tend to the boy in private, and I'll update you with information as it comes, but this whole ordeal has been too hard on you. I think it'd be best if you just focused more on your other classes for a while."
As Madame Pomfrey said all of this, Phoebe sat in silence, staring downward at the beautifully complex refraction of light through a potion phial. To make sure Phoebe was comprehending her words, Madame Pomfrey bent over so that their noses almost touched. Phoebe's brilliant, blue eyes diverted from the light and redirected to meet Madame Pomfrey's. Clearing her throat to combat the effects of staring at the pain resonating from Phoebe's gaze, Madame Pomfrey merely whispered, "I'm so sorry this happened to you."
At that, Phoebe roused herself from the comfort and safety of the armchair and made her way through the secondary entrance, back to her dormitory alone.
Two weeks passed, and Phoebe had neither seen Madame Pomfrey nor heard any word about Leo Price. And after two weeks of waiting, despite the prevalence of her now nightly terrors, Phoebe's general shock and fear were gradually replaced by curiosity of the mysterious boy and annoyance at Madame Pomfrey for ignoring her entirely. Phoebe only assumed Madame Pomfrey had been taking her meals in her office all this time, because she hadn't even show her face. Phoebe hadn't been cleared to enter the infirmary on Poppy's direct orders, so she knew she shouldn't try forcing the subject of the strange boy's progress. She eventually began suspecting the boy was dying because of some outlying complication, and Poppy was merely spending all of her free time in tending to him.
Though, as if in answer to her peaking frustration, during dinner on a stormy Friday night, two weeks after the "incident," Madame Pomfrey entered the Great Hall in a most casual manner and approached Phoebe at her usual eating spot at Hufflepuff's table. Initially, Phoebe couldn't believe the blase manner in which Madam Pomfrey stood in front of her, without apologizing for having been essentially missing from Hogwarts for two weeks. She wanted to yell at her for breaking her promise to deliver updates about the strange Mr. Price. However, unable to overcome the blast of excitement in anticipation for finally having answers to her questions, Phoebe merely raised her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to answer away.
Madam Pomfrey, however, only stood shaking her head. Phoebe was incredulous.
"Hasn't he said anything?"
Again, Poppy shook her head as she sat down next to Phoebe.
"Oh, he's been talking alright. He just hasn't given us any real information about what happened to him out in the forest or otherwise. He says he was beaten by thieves, but as knowledgeable and powerful he is using magic, I really don't see how any common criminal could do that to him."
"Well, what has he been saying?" Phoebe said, growing considerably annoyed by the second.
"He's mostly been asking questions about Hogwarts, really. The effects of that last outburst must have snapped him back to reality, because ever since, he's been acting like a completely normal young man. He may not be eating as much as we'd like him to, but he's no longer turning his nose up at bread and soup. He was smart at first though. I didn't blame him for being picky. Along with his other injuries, the boy was on the brink of starvation. If he had tried anything heavier than broth, he'd've been sick, but now it's really time for him to move to something that will return his strength.
And his mannerisms and apparent maturity are superior to that of any normal sixteen-year-old. I suppose that's why Professor Dumbledore is allowing him to start his education here. Since the one outlying situation, his stellar behavior and expressions of sincere apologies have indicated that he's ready to start integrating with young witches and wizards his age again. We let Mr. Price know that he'd be allowed to study at Hogwarts a few days ago, and ever since, he's been asking nothing but questions about the school. He's even been asking about you."
At this revelation, Phoebe felt again a chill in the air as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
"Me? What does he want to know about me?"
"Well, he just wanted to know your name and such. We didn't tell him, considering the fact that you probably don't want him to know too much about you. We also considered the fact that you may not want to have anything to do with him after what he did. Although, he has apologized many times, and I believe his interest in you is merely based on the fact that he wanted to be able to apologize to you in person."
"But after what he did, why is he being allowed to come to Hogwarts?"
"Like I said, Dumbledore personally vouched for the young Mr. Price, I suppose because some on the staff like Professor Slughorn helped bend Dumbledore's mind toward permitting the boy's formal education here."
"Professor Slughorn? Who else?"
Poppy thought for a moment. "Why, I believe Professor Hagrid, and...Professor Snape."
"Professor Snape? Really? I suppose I could see how 'Mr. Price' could be appealing to him, but I've never heard of Snape vouching for any student on any matter, except maybe Draco Malfoy. Maybe he thinks Price'll end up in Slytherin."
"Perhaps. Anyhow, he should be arriving any minute."
"Professor Snape?"
"No, dearie. Mr. Leo Price. He's to be sorted any minute. I just wanted to let you know the situation, so it wouldn't be as much of a shock to you. If you don't want to have anything to do with the boy, that's up to you, but he has tested into your year, so he may have a few classes with you. If that's the case, I'd let your teachers know your feelings so they won't put you together as partners. Well, I'm off now. I still need to disassemble Price's private chamber. I can finally use the room for storage again instead of my office."
At that, Madam Pomfrey sauntered off toward the massive doorway to the great hall, and once more after two weeks of absence, she was gone.
In silence, Phoebe anxiously pondered the previous conversation and the consequences that would apply to the ordeal now her attacker would potentially be in classes with her on a daily basis. But not five minutes later, the doorway to the great hall filled with the silhouette of Professor McGonagall holding a tattered witch's hat in her left hand, and in her right, she weakly supported the massive left hand of the mysterious Mr. Price, whose gnarled and scarred body bent over a crudely-crafted cane.
Although, Madam Pomfrey should've been able to immediately cure many of his injuries with simple charms and potions, most of his body was still wrapped in gauze, and he still sported deep, dark rings under his eyes. The presence of the cane and additional support obviously meant he still could not walk very well on his own. In fact, the only affected part of Price's body that actually had healed was his mouth where the stitches used to be. His previously long, matted hair was also completely shorn off, so he looked like a soldier returned from a particularly gruesome war.
As the two tiny figures on the far side of the vast hall slowly crossed over to the teachers' table for the sorting, a few heads turned to see who this late-comer was. Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid smiled to greet the boy, but most of the inhabitants of Hogwarts couldn't care less who this stranger was. Too many terrible things were going on in the world at the time for anyone to care about anything outside their own business. What with missing relatives and well-known figures and stories in the newspapers every other day about entire neighborhoods full of houses in flames. The arrival of an odd transfer student meant nothing to the students of Hogwarts.
Finally, after ten minutes of hobbling across the Great Hall, Price finally reached the steps leading to the other Professors at the bottom of which stood a single three-legged stool. Professor McGonagall aided the helpless boy onto the stool, and she placed the tattered Sorting Hat upon Price's bandaged crown.
A few more heads turned to face the front of the Hall, and the Slytherin table unenthusiastically applauded when the hat called out their House after five more minutes of silent concentration from the sentient Hat. Professor Snape raised his eyebrows in slight interest, but ultimately, this particular sorting garnered few spectators. After helping Price onto one of the empty stools no one ever wanted at the front of Slytherin table, Professor McGonagall rushed up to her seat at the teachers' table and struck up a conversation with Professor Flitwick as if nothing unusual had just happened.
Back in her corner of the room, Phoebe was one of the few students who intently witnessed the short sorting ceremony of Mr. Price, but still she locked her gazed on the new student through the vast crowd even after the end of the ceremony. She wanted to see what Price would do when interacting with his fellow-Slytherins. Initially, other students around him attempted welcoming Price to their house, and they even offered to shake hands. Price returned many of their handshakes, and he nodded cordially to each of the new acquaintances, but he didn't seem to mind one bit when they all began ignoring him and returning to their old conversations. He then assumed the somber silence he'd been maintaining the entire night up to that point.
Phoebe's confusion and curiosity only reached its peak when, having stared at Leo Price apparently longer than she should've, Price's eyes traveled up from his own empty bowl and met hers. Perhaps Phoebe was imagining things, but she could've sworn he smiled and winked at her before quickly returning his direction of vision downward.
She'd decided. She had to know who this Mr. Price really was, whether harmless boy, lying monster, or neither. And whatever he was, his very arrival was causing her to have the worst nightmares of her entire life. This had to stop. Whether Price was dangerous or not, she needed to know who the man in her dreams was, real, phantom or figment, and in one stroke of decisiveness, she slammed her small fists on the oak table, stood tall, and crossed the Hall toward Slytherin table.
As if her mind and will were separated from her body, she felt herself strutting across the Great Hall toward the sea of green-clad students. When she reached him, Leo Price gazed up at her and smiled, as if he had been pleasantly surprised by a visit from a friend. But he didn't greet her. He didn't ask what she wanted. He didn't even apologize for almost killing her two weeks ago. He merely muttered in a voice audible only to Phoebe, "I was wondering when you'd work up the courage to come talk to me. I've heard the Houses don't seem to mix much, but I thought you'd make an exception for me, even though I am a Slytherin."
Determined not to be distracted from her mission, all Phoebe said was, "Who are you, and who's Lazlo? I want answers."
Price turned around to make sure no one was looking or listening to their conversation, but because a Hufflepuff directly addressing a Slytherin at the Slytherin table was a rare sight, students of every house were finally beginning to stare despite their previous disinterest in the new student.
"Couldn't we have this conversation elsewhere?"
In this instance, Phoebe knew exactly what to say.
"You're right. Let's go to my table. No one will mind so much there's a Hufflepuff talking to a Slytherin over there."
She wasn't about to be alone with the boy for a second time. Leo Price smirked. "Of course. Lead the way." After watching Price wince, forcing himself from his seat with his walking cane, Phoebe led him slowly back across the Hall to the increasingly vacant Hufflepuff table. They had no trouble finding isolated seats now the dinner rush had begun to slow down.
"Sit down," Phoebe said curtly, and with a sigh, Price slumped onto an opposite stool, as if exhausted by the relocation. As she turned around on her stool to face the boy, she saw that he was no longer smiling. His façade of unsettling, attempted charm had fallen away.
"I know you want answers…, and I'm prepared to answer them. First, though, I have a couple of questions of my own. One…,"
He dipped a ladleful of beef broth into a new bowl and said in an even lower voice while grabbing a spoon, "Why aren't you still afraid of me?"
Author's After-Note
Since "this week's episode" will be closely followed by the next installment, I hope you won't mind me stopping right there. I hope you enjoyed, by the way. It seems like ever since my first chapter-upload, I've been very snarky toward my readers. I thought I'd just give you a bone, as I really do appreciate your readership. Once more, if you've enjoyed this in any capacity or have any suggestions for my work, please, feel free to contact me via email(mynamewasfrog at gee mail dot com) or simply post your comment in the review section below whether or not you have an account on this site. Thanks, guys!