Snape's Rejects
At lunch, Arista met with Mel, Tricia, and Kit. They now sat together openly, for
Tricia and Kit often sought out Arista for extra help with homework, and she was working with Kit on improving his Transfiguration spells.
"Did you hear what your dad did to Brittany?" Kit asked, unable to keep the smirk off
his face.
"No. He wouldn't tell me." Arista admitted. "What happened?"
Kit leaned in across the table. "Now, I got this information directly from Drake, who
heard it from Brittany's own mouth, she was whining to her court ladies and he was hiding behind a pillar and heard everything."
"Go on. Don't keep me in suspense, please!"
"Well, you know how we call her the Marsh Maid? Snape made her—oh this is so
perfect—he made her take the eggs out of two dozen dead pincer crabs for some kind of potion. And that's not all. Then he made her scrub his dungeon. Without magic. On her hands and knees with a scrub brush and a bucket. The whole floor. And while she was doing that he kept walking around and pointing out spots she'd missed and making her do it over."
Tricia and Mel were grinning in glee. "He had her so upset, she was practically in
tears!" Tricia said. "What I wouldn't have given to see that—Queen Brittany, Quidditch star, scrubbing a floor like a house elf! I'll bet she broke all her nails."
"And she said it's going to take weeks for her to get the smell of those crab guts off of
her hands." Mel reported, snickering like a demented gargoyle. "Queen of the Fens, indeed!"
"I have to say, I never thought Snape'd go that far," Kit said, laughing also.
"You don't know my father, Kit." Arista said. "He was royally PO'd at her. And not
just over me. It was her attitude that really got to him. He loathes people who think they deserve special treatment, especially when they've done nothing to earn it. He also hates whining crybabies. I learned a long time ago to just take my punishments and shut up."
"Speaking of punishments, what'd he do to you? Beat you?" Kit asked.
"That's not funny, Ambrosius," Arista snapped, her eyes narrowed. "Don't ever talk
like that about my dad again, got me? He's never raised a hand to me. He doesn't hit kids. So don't even go there."
Kit held up his hands. "Sorry. I was only kidding." He blushed furiously. "I shouldn't
have said that. I was out of line."
"Okay. I forgive you." Arista relented. "And he's making me clean out that huge
cabinet in the back of the dungeon with all those potions. He has me sorting and labeling and putting everything back in alphabetical order."
Mel exchanged glances with Tricia of utter horror. "My God! But that'll take forever.
That cabinet's the whole length of the classroom."
"Tell me about it. I have to go back next Saturday and finish it. If I can."
"Man, and here I thought being the teacher's kid meant you got off easy when it came
to detentions," Kit said.
"No way, Kit!" Mel laughed. "Being a teacher's relative means you get double the
grief and double the punishments if you step out of line. Trust me, I know."
"That's right. You're Professor Sprout's niece, aren't you?" Tricia asked.
"Yeah. And she's almost as bad as Professor Snape when it comes to giving out
detentions. Try weeding her whole garden sometime. It ain't no picnic."
"That's for sure," Arista agreed, rubbing her back. "My back's killing me from
bending over so much." She put another slice of roast beef on her plate, along with some green beans and scalloped potatoes.
"Can you believe the amount of Transfiguration homework we have?" Kit groaned.
"And I don't understand half of it. You free tonight, Arista? I could really use your help
before this next test."
"Meet me in the library. We can go over it there."
"Thanks so much. Cause if I get another D this term, my dad says he's gonna take
away my broomstick and make me repeat the whole course. He thinks I'm not trying hard enough." The boy scowled at his plate. "Damned impossible subject! Just because my ancestor was one of the greatest Transfiguration masters of all time, he expects all of us to be the same way."
"Poor Kit. And you've got an older brother too." Tricia said.
"Yeah, the perfect Nigel. Graduated top of his class last year." Kit made a face.
"They're always throwing that in my face. But your brother was never like this when he was in school, Christopher. He was a bloody brilliant wizard, could cast ten spells at one time and blow sunshine out of his arse too! Don't know what went wrong with you, boy. Must take after your mum's side of the family." He broke off abruptly. "Sorry. Didn't mean to go on like that. I just got an owl from him this morning, and it always makes me boiling mad after I read his letters."
"Parents! Can't live with 'em and can't curse 'em," Mel said sympathetically.
"Ain't that the truth! My mum's always on me to watch what I eat. She used to be a
model for Witch Weekly, back when she was seventeen," Tricia said.
"Honest? I never knew that!" Mel exclaimed.
"I don't like to advertise it. People might think I was, you know, a snob like Brittany."
Tricia said softly. "And, well, I'm not exactly model material."
"You're fine just the way you are," Arista told her firmly. "Looks aren't everything.
Take Marsh for example, looks like a Gold Galleon, but she's really just a lump of lead on the inside. I wouldn't be her for all the tea in China."
"Me neither!" agreed the others fervently.
"Speaking of our favorite Slytherin, when are we going to spike her pumpkin juice?"
Mel asked in an undertone.
"Say what?" Tricia hissed, her eyes wide in her round face. "Spike it with what?"
"Our Decongestion Draft we made this morning," Mel told her with a sly grin. "We
nicked some out of the cauldron when the professor's back was turned. We were going to slip it into her pumpkin juice at dinner."
"Cool. That stuff tastes like something puked and then died," Kit remarked. "I had
bronchitis once and my mum practically force fed me it."
"So did my dad. Well, not force fed me exactly, but he gave me one of those looks.
You know what I mean," Arista said. Everyone nodded, they'd all been on the receiving end of Snape's glares. "Anyway, I don't think I'm going to be able to do it, Mel."
"What? Why not?"
"Because I made a promise to my dad that I'd stay out of trouble for a month. I know
it sounds lame, but I never break my promises to him. So, somebody else has to do it." Arista said regretfully.
"I'd do it, but I could never get near the Slytherin table without someone noticing,"
sighed Tricia.
"Me either. I'm no good at sneaking around, I trip over my feet too much," Mel
admitted, frowning down at her size nine shoes.
"I'll do it," came a quiet voice.
They all jumped about three feet into the air. Kit spun around so fast he nearly
knocked his chair over.
Drake Lockwood stood behind them, a dark wraith in his school robes with their
Slytherin crest.
"Cripes, Lockwood! Next time warn a guy," Kit scowled. "I nearly climbed up a wall.
You make less noise than the castle ghosts."
Drake smiled at that. "Sorry. B-but moving like a shadow's the only w-way I survive
in my House. If they d-don't know I'm there, they c-can't start anything with me."
"Yeah, I can see that." Kit said, beckoning the other boy to a seat. "Can't hurt what
you can't catch."
"Nobody hears me unless I w-want them to," Drake said simply. "Lucky I'm small and
fast. It h-helps when you've g-got to hide in a broom closet."
"Do they ever let up on you?" Mel asked, her eyes bright with indignation.
"Sometimes. W-when they've found some new kid to t-torment. Or when P-professor
Snape's around. They don't touch me then. He c-caught Crabbe and G-goyle once when they w-were hexing me. H-he was mad as blazes. He made them scrub all the toilets in the h- haunted g-girl's bathroom. The one with Moaning Myrtle."
"He would do that." Arista said.
"How come we never knew that?" Kit wanted to know.
"Because he made me p-promise not to tell," Drake admitted, blushing slightly. "Only
I guess it's okay if you know, as long as you d-don't tell anybody else."
"We'll keep your secret, Lockwood." Mel reassured him, giving him a friendly smile.
"Last thing you need is Snape snarked off at you."
"Thanks. If he's around after supper, he g-gives me jobs to do for him, like sharpening quills, or g-getting a book from the library. If I'm on an errand for him, the others leave me alone."
"Why doesn't he just tell them point blank to leave you be?" Kit asked.
"B-because then it would seem like he favored me over them. And then it would be
worse. I'm used to it."
"But it's not right!" Arista objected hotly. "Always running and hiding. Nobody has
the right to do that to you, I don't care who their parents are."
"It w-wouldn't be so bad if I c-could cast spells q-quickly." Drake said with an angry glint in his eye. "B-but this d-damn stutter of mine . . .Everytime I t-try to d-defend myself, my t-tongue g-gets in knots."
"Isn't there anything they can do for you?" Tricia asked.
Drake shrugged. "The H-healers said I w-would g-grow out of it. B-but that's not
much h-help now."
Arista was thinking hard. "Maybe there's a way I could help you with your stutter,
Drake. But I'll have to do some more research on speech disabilities."
Drake brightened at that. "C-could you, Arista? That w-would be g-great! If you c-
could heal the Longbottoms, you can heal me too."
"Well, I can try."
"W-where's that p-potion you made? I can slip it in Marsh's drink easy," the Slytherin
boy declared. "P-payback for the time she made me eat spiders."
"Ugh!" Arista thought she was going to be sick. "She made you eat spiders?"
Drake nodded, his eyes dark. "Two of her b-boyfriends held me down while she
shoved the w-wand in my mouth. I w-was sick for two days."
"That's horrible!" Mel gasped. "She deserves anything we do to her then."
Arista slipped the vial of Decongestion Draft from her bag. "Here. I think there's
enough to doctor hers and maybe somebody else's too."
"James H-hathaway," Drake hissed softly, his gray eyes blazing. "He's Marsh's c-
current boyfriend. I h-hate his guts. H-he helped her w-with the spiders. And some other things too." He palmed the vial so quickly Arista barely felt it.
"How'd you do that?" she asked.
"Sleight-of-h-hand." Drake showed her where the vial was nestled up his sleeve. "Fake magic t-tricks. But I can make anything small vanish. Including myself." He grinned at her. "W-watch the Slytherin table t-tonight. You'll see something amazing, I p-promise."
Kit clapped the smaller boy on the back. "You're all right, Lockwood. Even if you are a Slytherin."
"You're okay too, Ambrosius. For a Gryffindor."
The two exchanged friendly grins.
"I have an idea," Arista said suddenly. "I say all five of us should form a committee.
A committee dedicated to ridding Hogwarts of bullies like Marsh and all of them. Soon as I'm done with my detention, I'll be able to help you fight them."
"Fight them?" Mel repeated incredulously. "What fumes did you inhale down there
in the dungeon, Snape? Marsh and her gang are some of the best spellcasters in the school. And you want us, the school rejects, to take them on? Me, that can't walk two feet without tripping over something, Kit, who can't Transfigure anything for his life."
"Me, w-who can b-barely talk," Drake put in.
"And me, who's been compared to the Fat Lady," said Tricia. "We'll get our butts kicked."
Arista shook her head. "Not if we do this right. Listen to me. One thing I learned
from my Dark Hunter teachers in America is that two people working together can accomplish twice as much as one working alone. That's why most assignments they get sent out on they use partners. And they catch their quarry nine times out of ten."
"That's great for them. But we ain't Dark Hunters, mate," Kit reminded her.
"But there's no reason why you can't become like them."
"How? There's no Academy here." Mel said.
"So we'll make our own. I was a Hunter apprentice for over two years before I came
here. I had two of the best teachers on the force. Colin was the Hunter combat master before he was my teacher, three years running. You know that punch I gave Brittany yesterday? He taught me that. He could kick your ass just by looking at you."
"Like your dad," Tricia said.
"Yeah. I had lessons every day with him for over two years. I can teach you all how
to defend yourselves, both with and without magic. And if we all stick together, we won't be as vulnerable to Brittany and company. My mom used to say nothing's impossible if you believe in magic. And cooperation's a magic all its own. I'm sick of Marsh thinking she can walk all over everybody just 'cause her father's some hotshot rich banker and she's pretty and popular. It's time somebody taught her and her little court some manners."
"I agree, but us?" Tricia looked doubtful.
"Why not us?" Arista demanded. "We're just as good as they are. Better, in fact. So
what do you say?"
Mel deliberated for about two minutes before saying, "Count me in, Snape. The Marsh
Maid's reign of terror needs to end."
"I'm in too." Kit agreed. "I may be a screw-up in Transfiguration, but I'm pretty good
at the Darks Arts. And I'm sick of being known as Merlin's Mistake."
"Tricia? How about you?" Arista asked.
The Hufflepuff girl hesitated. Then she nodded. "Bessie the cow's gonna trample them."
They all looked at Drake.
"Arista's right. It's t-time to s-top running. I can g-get you all the information you n-
need on them. T-teach me how to be a Dark Hunter, Arista. I'm tired of b-being a little g- grass snake that g-gets stepped on."
"We'll turn you into a king snake," Arista promised. "The kind that eats cobras like
Marsh and Hathaway for breakfast."
"Yeah. A k-king snake," Drake grinned. "I like that. Let's do it."
All of them clasped hands. "Here's to us and our covert war. My dad says if you go
looking for trouble, trouble will find you," Arista quoted. "Brittany Marsh goes looking for trouble. And trouble's just found her."
Five pairs of eyes met and locked together.
"This is gonna be the worst year Marsh and her buddies ever had," Mel vowed. "Or my name ain't Melinda Sandra Seton."
Just then there was a scuffle at the entrance to the hall, as Marsh and several other
Slytherin girls pushed into the room. Hathaway was on her arm, a tall good-looking blond guy who clearly regarded himself as God's gift to women. Arista detested him on sight. Some of the other Slytherin girls hanging about Marsh were Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Arabella Chandler, who was second cousin to Draco Malfoy.
Brittany strode down the center of the room, moving like she was some kind of royalty,
her head high, looking down her nose at everyone.
I'll give her one thing. She sure knows how to make an entrance, Arista thought
grudgingly.
Marsh looked superb, her fancy green and black robes exquisitely tailored, her long
blond hair coiled up on her head, a diamond tennis bracelet flashing off one wrist, the one Hathaway had on his arm. Her missing tooth had been fixed by Pomfrey. There was no trace of dirt or soap on her person, no sign that she'd ever done manual labor that morning. Arista's eyes darted to the girl's hands. Wait. Her nails were short, she probably cut them because they broke. They were trimmed neatly and had some kind of gold polish on them, but they were barely a half-an-inch long. Way to go, Dad! You ruined Queenie's forty Sickle manicure.
"Speak of the devil," Kit murmured.
Marsh turned her head, almost as if she had heard Kit's comment, and her eyes lit up.
"Well, look at this, Hathaway. Snape's gone slumming with the dregs of the school. All the rejects are sitting here. Bessie Moo-Cow, Staggering Melly, Merlin's Mistake, and look, it's our own Ducky! Starting a new study group, are you? Rejects Anonymous."
"Looks like it, Brit." He eyed Arista condescendingly. "Guess you're not daddy's little
girl any more, are you, Snape? Detention after a month, naughty child. Tsk. Tsk." he shook a finger in her face.
The other Slytherins cracked up.
"Doesn't beat your record, Hathaway," Mel retorted. "Last year, you got detention
with McGonagall the day after we started school. For being a—how did she put it? Oh, yes, a whiney smart-aleck brat."
"Shut your trap, Seton," Hathaway ordered, his face red.
Now the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws were all laughing too.
"Hey, how's the nails, Marsh?" Tricia asked sweetly. "Have you got all the fish guts off them yet?"
"Don't think so. I can smell them from here," cried a fifth-year Ravenclaw from the next table.
"You know, Marsh, my mum could use some help scrubbing the floor," Ron called. "Now that you know how to do it right, I'll tell her to call you."
The Gryffindor table was doubled over laughing.
"Shut up, Weasley! At least my parents don't breed like rabbits," Brittany snarled,
glaring daggers at Ron.
"No, they just breed house elves," Kit threw back.
More laughter followed. "Better than breeding a mistake like you, Ambrosius."
Hathaway said, his lip curling. "I heard they found you on the doorstep as a baby. No
wonder."
Kit flushed a dull red. Drake whispered something in Arista's ear.
"Well, at least he has a decent family background, Hathaway. Wasn't your grandfather
some kind of dairy farmer out in Sussex? No wonder you like to hang around Marsh. You're hoping some of her class will rub off on you," Arista said, and gave him a wicked smile.
"At least I have class, Snape," sniffed Brittany. "Your father must want to die of
shame, seeing the riffraff you're hanging out with. Must be that American blood in you. Bring me your tired, hungry, and poor, eh, Snape? And look, they came running."
Arista clenched her fist and started to rise.
Mel grabbed her arm. "Temper, Arista. Remember your promise."
Arista gritted her teeth and forced herself to ignore the other girl. "Right. She's not worth it."
"She'll g-get hers tonight," Drake reminded her, jerking his head at his sleeve.
Brittany turned away and moved on down to the Slytherin table.
Arista made herself breathe in and out four times, trying to control her fiery temper.
Mel said quietly, "At least Brittany's done one good thing for us."
"What's that, Mel?" Arista asked.
"She's given us a name."
"Yeah, a terrible one. Rejects Anonymous," Kit shook his head.
"So we'll change it a little," Mel said decisively. "We might be rejects to them, but
who cares? Let 'em call us that. We'll be Snape's Rejects, and we'll show 'em all what it costs to pick on people who can't defend themselves. Right? We'll be S. R. for short, okay?"
Tricia, Drake, and Kit shrugged. "Kind of weird, but I'll go for it," Kit said, speaking for them. "That all right with you, Arista?"
"Sure, I guess."
Mel whistled happily. "We'll make it a name to be proud of. And feared by bullies everywhere. Hey, that's not bad. Maybe I ought to write that down."
Arista laughed and passed her an extra quill.
Later on at dinner, Arista and Mel made sure they were seated at the end of the
Ravenclaw table, so they had a prime view of where Brittany was sitting next to Hathaway. Arista scanned the Slytherin table for any sign of Drake. She finally spotted him, sitting off by himself.
He lifted his head and looked over at her, giving her a nod and a thumbs-up sign.
"Did he do it?" Mel whispered.
"Yeah. Now let's watch the show." Arista said.
Brittany lifted her goblet to her lips and drank. So did Hathaway.
Two seconds later they both turned green and threw up all over everything. Kids
screamed and backed away. "Gross!"
Both of them jumped up from the table and ran out of the hall.
Over at the Gryffindor table, Kit, Ron, and Harry were laughing their heads off.
Drake was smirking behind his hand.
Mel and Arista looked at each other. "Must have been something they ate," the tall girl
mused.
"Or maybe it's a virus," Arista said. Then they burst out laughing too. Score one for
our side.
As they made their way out of the hall later, Kit joined them, ready for his tutoring
session with Arista in the library. "Was that not the funniest thing you ever saw? They're never gonna live that down." Kit chortled. "Oh, by the way, Drake told me to tell you that he slipped a little something extra into that Decongestion Draft."
"What?" Arista asked.
"I don't know. But something that'll make the two of them puke their guts up all
night. Marsh won't be able to play Quidditch tomorrow."
"Sucks for her," Mel laughed.
"Unless Madam Pomfrey cures them," Arista said. "Oh, damn! What if they check the
goblets they were drinking from?"
"Quit worrying, Snape. Drake took care of that. He switched the goblets with the
Decongestion Draft for fresh ones. So the only thing anyone will know is that the two of them drank pumpkin juice and puked all over themselves after." Kit told her.
"And half the Slytherins sitting across from them," Mel said gleefully. "Malfoy and
Goyle got a faceful."
"That's what you get when you hang out with the popular crowd," Arista said with a
wicked grin.
In the month that followed, a great many changes came to Hogwarts. On October 30th, the long awaited arrival of the students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons occurred. The Triwizard Tournament had also started, only they ended up having four champions instead of three when somebody put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire. The whole school was abuzz with rumors about how it happened. Arista was of the opinion that some powerful wizard had put Harry's name in the Goblet on purpose, maybe hoping he'd get killed.
"Those tasks are no joke, Mel," she said to her friend as they were crossing the lawn
on their way to Herbology. "You'd have to be crazy to try and compete with seventh-years."
"Then you wouldn't try it?" Mel teased.
"Not on your life. I know my own limitations, thank you very much."
"Sure you do—Girl Who Healed."
"Oh, stuff it, Seton." Arista ordered, swatting the other girl with her quill. They paused
to watch some boys from Durmstrang walking down by the lake.
Mel had been right, there were several hot boys among the Durmstrang crowd.
Unfortunately, they seemed drawn to Brittany Marsh's crowd, which upset Mel, Tricia, and Arista to no end.
"Oh, who needs them anyhow?" Tricia said crossly one afternoon, watching Brittany
being trailed by five or six Durmstrang boys, all looking like eager puppies hoping to get a treat tossed to them. "They wouldn't know a nice girl if she came up and bit them."
"I know, but why do all the guys go for the bad girls?" Mel sighed moodily.
"Because they're stupid at this age," Arista offered. "Jenna always said there's nothing dumber than a fourteen-year-old boy when it comes to girls. They grow brains when they get older. You hope."
"Maybe I ought to go on a diet," Tricia lamented. "If I was a little slimmer . . ."
"Don't." Mel ordered fiercely. "Don't do that to yourself, Trish. I mean, if a guy can't like you for who you are, and all he likes are looks, then he's no good. Right, Arista?"
"Right." Arista said firmly. "If you want to go on a diet for you, Trish, then go for it. We'll all help you. But don't do it for some guy. That's not worth it."
"You're right. I was being stupid. Besides, I think I've lost a few pounds already from
those training sessions you put us through, Arista."
"You mean torture sessions, don't you?" Mel groaned. "Running twenty laps around
the clearing in the Forest. What d'you think we're in, the bloody army, for crying out loud?"
"Hey, you asked me to give you self-defense lessons," Arista reminded her.
"Lessons, not a bloody exercise regimen!" Mel cried.
"But you have to run and stretch before you learn kung fu, Mel. It builds up wind and
stamina and loosens up your muscles." Arista said, then halted. "My God, I sound just like Colin. Next thing I'm going to be telling you all to quit whining and just deal with it. That's what he used to tell me when I complained about having to get up first thing in the morning."
Mel rolled her eyes. "You're a damn drill sergeant, Snape. Just like your old man."
"Oh, quit complaining, Seton. How many times have you tripped over your own feet
in the last week?"
Mel considered. "I, uh, don't know. Maybe three times. Hey, that's a record. Usually
I'm falling over at least two times a day."
"That's because of my torture sessions. All those stretches and balancing movements I make you do is improving your coordination. In another month or so, I'll bet you won't be tripping over anything."
"Honest?" Mel eyes glowed. "And I can kick the spit out of Millicent Bulstrode if she
starts anything with me too." She hugged Arista. "Forget what I said, okay? You just go right on torturing me every afternoon."
"I will," Arista said.
They now had lessons every afternoon in a clearing some ways into the Forbidden
Forest. Arista had gone with Hagrid to speak with Firenze, a young centaur, and ask
permission to hold her self-defense practices there. The centaur had agreed, and now they had lessons every afternoon they were done with classes. Arista taught them for an hour, using the same methods Colin had with her. They learned kung fu as well as how to block curses, and Arista found she enjoyed the sessions immensely, watching her students improve with each one that went by. Maybe potion skills aren't all I inherited from Dad. I think I'm a pretty good teacher too.
In addition to that, plus all of her regular classes, she was also making an effort to help Drake overcome his stuttering. They met in the clearing on the weekends, after breakfast mostly, and she gave him exercises to do, repeating certain words and sentences over and over.
"There's really no magical cure for this," she'd told him the first day they met. "All it takes is practice and patience. Lots of it. But one thing I can teach you is how to center your mind. That's a meditation exercise. I've noticed you stutter more when you're nervous or upset."
"Yeah, that's t-true. I hardly stutter at all when I'm calm."
"So, the first thing you need to learn is how to be calm all the time. And that means you need to learn how to breathe."
Drake gave her a blank look. "Huh? I already know that. If I didn't I'd be d-dead."
Arista shook her head. "Not what I mean. I mean controlled breathing. Slow and counted, like what you do for meditation. Here, I'll show you."
They worked on meditative breathing exercises that first morning. Later on they
progressed to breathing techniques and finally Arista taught him to reach a calm and quiet center in his mind. "When you're nervous or something, you tense up, and that makes it harder for you to talk. So you need to find your center and then go there, like I showed you. Then just talk normally. Don't think about what you're going to say, just say it."
Drake gave her a crooked grin. "That's easy for you t-to say, Arista."
"I know. But if you practice, you'll improve. I wish I knew of a potion that could fix you, but I don't."
"That's all right. Something's can't be fixed w-with magic," Drake said softly. He took a deep breath, counting softly. Then he said, "There. That's better."
His eyes popped open. "Arista! I-I didn't stutter that time."
"See? I told you, you could do it!" she praised. "Now try it again. Breathe and focus."
This time she projected an aura of calmness about him, much as she would have done if she were trying to calm an injured animal or a person. "Now, repeat after me. Tom tries to jump barrels by himself but keeps bumping into things."
He did so, and he didn't stutter once, the calming aura soothing his nerves. "How'd
I do that?" he asked, his voice filled with awe. "I haven't spoken clearly like that since—since I was about five."
"It's all about being calm, Drake," she told him. "And well, I have a secret to share
with you. Before, I projected a calming aura at you. See, I'm an empath, and that's how I healed the Longbottoms, but I don't want anybody to know, because then they'll think I go around prying into everybody's feelings."
"An empath, huh? That does sort of g-go with your Healing gift." Drake said. "Is that
how you sometimes can t-tell what people are going to do b-before they do it?"
"Sometimes, yeah. When I lower my shields a bit, then I can feel what someone else
is feeling and can predict what they're gonna do. But I don't do it a lot, because it's not right to just read people like that for no reason."
"Yeah. D'you mind if we tell the r-rest of them?"
"No. They're my friends too, and I trust them." She cleared her throat. "Okay. Let's get back to your lesson, Mr. Lockwood."
He made a face at her. "Slavedriver."
"Drake! I am not!"
"Only k-kidding, Snape. Can't you take a joke?" His gray eyes twinkled merrily.
She grinned at him. "You're a riot, Lockwood. Now—let's try this one. Peter picks
a pack of pickled peppers."
"I hate this one," he groaned.
"Drake, just say it."
"Okay, P-professor." He began counting off breaths again, centering himself.
By the middle of the third week he could say two or three sentences without stuttering.
She was surprised by his progress and said so. "I've been practicing on my own. Before I go to sleep. I do all those sentences and stuff. I think it's w-working."
"Uh-huh. Before you know it, we'll have you casting spells."
Thursday was their study group night, when they all met in the library to help each
other with homework and tests. As Professor Sprout's niece, Mel earned top honors in Herbology, and coached Tricia while Arista helped Kit with Transfiguration and Drake helped Arista with Astronomy.
"I like to look at the stars. It calms me down, when I do my meditation," he said one
evening, as he tested her on the conjunctions of planets.
"I wish I could take your cat with me when I take my Transfiguration final," Kit said,
petting Comfrey, who was curled in his lap purring. "She calms my nerves better than a Sleeping Draft."
"That's the lavender fairy cat in her," Drake said, reaching out to tickle the gray cat
with a finger. "Now, r-remember, when you say the spell, concentrate on what you w-want the object to be, then point your wand and focus."
"I know, Lockwood." Kit said irritably. He scowled at the small block of wood he'd
been trying to transform into a goblet. "Let's see you do it."
Drake pulled out his wand, gave two deep breaths, then spoke the words to the
Transfiguration spell and pointed his wand. The block of wood blurred and became a finely crafted goblet.
Kit nearly fell out of his chair. "Holy God! When'd you learn to cast like that, Drake?"
Drake grinned proudly. "Been doing that for a week now. Arista's been drilling me."
The others shot her injured looks. "And you didn't tell us?" Mel said, pretending to be hurt.
"We wanted it to be a surprise," Arista chuckled.
"Was that the first time you've cast a spell without stuttering?" Tricia asked, twirling one of her blond curls idly in her finger.
Drake shook his head. "I cast a hex on Hathaway on Wednesday."
"No way!" Kit's jaw dropped.
"It was just after dinner," Drake told them slowly. "I was coming back to my room to
study for Charms, and Hathaway saw me. I knew he was gonna try to curse me and I-I just got mad. I pulled out my w-wand and yelled Expelliarmus. Next thing I knew, Hathaway was on the ground and his wand was across the room."
"What happened next?" Mel asked eagerly.
"Then I pointed my wand at him and I said how'd you like to eat slugs and I cast that
on h-him," Drake recited proudly. "B-but while he was choking up slugs, Professor Snape came in."
Arista put her face in her hands. "Let me guess. He gave you detention for dueling,
right?"
"No. He saw me with my wand out, and I thought d-damn now I'm in for it. But he
looked at me, looked at H-hathaway and he told Hathaway to go to the Hospital Wing. Then he said, "A most unfortunate accident, was it, Lockwood?" And I said, "Yes, sir." And he nodded and went on by me. A most unfortunate accident!" Drake repeated, then he started to laugh.
"This calls for a celebration," Tricia declared. She waved her wand and called up a
plate of pumpkin pasties, Chocolate Frogs and five bottles of butterbeer. "Here's to hoping Hathaway has a lot more unfortunate accidents, courtesy of Drake Lockwood."
"I'll drink to that," Arista said, and she did.
* * * * * *
From that point on, Arista and her friends began practicing Defense Against the Dark
Arts magic religiously. She even taught them a way to block curses without a wand, since her earlier training had been in the American tradition. She still practiced the spells she'd learned from Colin and Jenna that way, making her the most well-rounded witch in Hogwarts, as Kit had said once.
They now practiced what Arista called the Lightning Draw, which was a test to see
who could pull out their wand the fastest. She and Drake consistently won those contests, for both were naturally agile and quick. Drake's reflexes had been honed by years of persecution by his fellow Slytherins, and Arista's had been fine-tuned by Colin.
Still, with repetition, even Mel, who they sometimes called Butterfingers jokingly,
could draw her wand quicker than over half of the Hogwarts students.
Tricia, easily the quietest of their group, came into her own when they started studying
shield charms and curse blocking techniques. Tricia could block quicker then any of them, even Arista.
It was when they were all practicing Shield Charms one afternoon on the weekend,
right after the Triwizard Champions had finished their first task—fighting dragons—that something unforeseen and extraordinary happened.
Arista had them all lined up in a row, wands out and pointed at the trees, ready to cast
the Shield Charm on her signal. She was touching each of their minds lightly with her
empathic gift, not reading them, precisely, but more like allowing their feelings to flow
through her. "Okay. Ready? On three. One! Two! Three!"
They all pointed their wands and shouted, "Protego!"
At that moment all of their minds were being touched by Arista and when they cast the
Shield Charm, their will and magic combined and lent the simple Shield Charm far greater strength than it would have otherwise had.
Normally it would have only conjured a small bubble of magical air about each of the
wizards. But the linking of their minds and powers combined to make the Shield Charm five times as powerful. There was a brilliant flash from all their wands and the next thing they knew, a huge bubble was hanging over them, encasing them in a protective wall.
All of them stared at each other, mouths agape.
"What the blazes!" exclaimed Kit, looking as if his wand had just bitten him.
"How did that happen?" inquired Tricia, shaking her wand.
"What'd we do?" Mel asked, confusion written all over her face.
"I've never been able to do a Shield Charm that way," Drake said dazedly.
"Me either," Arista said. "I don't know exactly what just happened here, but I think
. . .somehow we . . .combined our powers."
"We what?" repeated Mel.
"Come again?" Kit frowned.
"She said we combined our powers," Tricia repeated wonderingly. "But how could
we? I don't even think it's possible."
"Yes, it is," Drake said softly. "We just did it."
"But how?" Kit looked over at Arista. "Got any theories, Snape?"
Arista was silent for several moments, going over what had just occurred with the
Shield Charm. She replayed the events in her head, finally coming to this conclusion. "Here's what I think happened. When we first began to cast the spell, I was using my empathy to touch all of you gently, not so I could feel your emotions, but so I could get a sense of timing. I was still doing it when we all cast the spell at the same time. Somehow I linked us all together and our powers combined and that—" she indicated the huge bubble of magic. "—was the result. A Shield Charm magnified five times its ordinary strength."
"Awesome!" Mel whispered.
"If I didn't see it with my own two eyes, I'd say you're all nuts," Kit said, blinking at
the bubble.
"Nobody's ever gonna believe this!" Drake said, tapping the bubble with his wand.
"I barely believe it myself, and I was right here," Arista said.
"Can we do it again, d'you think?" Tricia asked.
Arista looked at all of them. "We can try, if that's all right with all of you?"
Everyone nodded.
"Okay. Wands at the ready. One! Two! Three! Protego!"
Five voices shouted the spell at the same moment, linked by Arista's empathy. Once
again, their magic became combined as their wills became one for an instant, and the Shield Charm was magnified to five times its original strength.
"It worked!" Arista cried excitedly.
"Cool. Can we try another spell?" Kit asked.
"It has to be something we all know," Arista said. "How about Wingardium Leviosa?
That's one we all know front to back."
"What are we trying to make fly?" asked Tricia sensibly.
"How about that log over there?" Drake indicated a rotten log a few feet away from
them.
"Good, we'll make that fly. Now, everyone focus," Arista ordered. She opened her mind and linked them. "Wands up! One. Two. Three. Wingardium Leviosa!"
The rotten log flew about thirty feet up in the air.
"Whoa!" Mel cried.
The log wobbled as her concentration wavered.
"Mel! Concentrate!" Arista yelled.
"Oops. Sorry!" Mel apologized then focused her mind back on the log.
The log hung in the air like some odd kind of bird.
"Let's get it down," Tricia said, and they all concentrated again.
The log drifted down and hit the forest floor with a thump.
Slowly, the five students sat down on the ground, not knowing quite what to make of
this new ability they had discovered. "Should we tell someone?" Tricia wanted to know. "Like maybe Dumbledore?"
"Yeah, wouldn't he be interested to know we could combine our magic and make
spells stronger?" Mel said.
"Definitely." Drake nodded.
"Hey, this kind of thing isn't, uh, forbidden or anything, right?" Kit asked uneasily.
"Why would it be forbidden? We didn't do anything except cooperate together to cast
a spell. Isn't that what they've been trying to teach us? How to work together and help each other?" Arista commented.
Slowly, Drake nodded. "She's right. We d-didn't try and curse anyone, all we did was
cast charms."
"Magnified charms. I wonder what else we could do?" Mel nibbled on her finger.
"Could you imagine if we cast a Stunning Hex? What would that be like—magnified
five times?" Kit mused.
"That could kill someone," Tricia muttered, her eyes wide with horror.
"Stunning Hexes don't kill, Trish. They only knock you out," Kit snorted.
"Normal Stunning hexes do," said Drake. "But ones magnified five times? We d-don't
know what that would do to someone."
"I think we have to be very careful with this," Arista cautioned. "We need to
experiment some more with it before we go showing anyone. We need to start slowly and only cast spells that aren't harmful. Until we figure out what we can and can't do with it."
"And then we go to Dumbledore." Tricia said firmly.
"Yes. But right now I think we all need to rest." Arista suggested.
"Amen to that!" Mel yawned. "I'm beat. I want to eat something and then go to bed."
Drake looked puzzled. "Why are we all tired? I just woke up two hours ago."
"Maybe this business of combining magics wears you out faster than normal?" Arista
said. "Yeah, I guess that would make sense. It's harder for us to concentrate and combine our magics that way."
"Arista, does it, uh, hurt you when you link us?" Kit wanted to know.
"No. The only time an empath feels pain when she touches another's mind is if that
person is projecting pain or fear so strongly she can't block it out. All I was doing was
touching you gently, just enough to bind us together."
"What's it feel like? Can you describe it?" Mel asked.
"Umm, not exactly. But it's, well, kind of like feeling a sense of belonging, like we
were all, uh, connected somehow. That's not really a good description, but it's the best I can do. In order to really understand it, you'd have to be an empath."
Tricia covered her mouth with her hand. "Well, since I'm not, that explanation sounds
pretty good to me. I vote we save this discussion for tomorrow or whatever and go back to bed."
Her motion was eagerly seconded by the rest of them.
* * * * * *
The end of the first term was approaching rapidly, and soon the Christmas holidays
would be coming up. Their teachers were piling on more homework as a result, and all of them were kept busy trying to keep up with it and study for finals, so they didn't have as much time as they would have liked to practice combining their magics or work on self-defense.
Still, what they had practiced so far was more than adequate to protect themselves and others, as Drake demonstrated one day when he caught Millicent Bulstrode threatening a first- year Ravenclaw student named Mercy Hawkins.
Drake was coming out of his Transfiguration class when he heard the sound of
someone crying. Instinctively, he drew his wand. Then he walked swiftly and utterly silently around the corner of the hallway. There he saw Millicent Bulstrode, a big hulking girl, towering over a small blond-haired child.
"B-But I don't want to give you all of my gingerbread cakes!" Mercy was sobbing.
"My mum sent them special for me for Christmas! Why can't you just take half of them?" Two huge tears rolled down her face. She clutched a small white box to her chest.
Millicent grinned nastily. "Listen, crybaby. You give me all of them right now, or I'll
put a hex on you so that your own mum won't recognize you, got me?" she leaned in and grabbed the girl by the front of her robes, shaking her.
Mercy started to cry even harder.
Drake felt himself explode with anger. He recalled only too well all the times he'd
been at Millicent's or some other bully's mercy, unable to defend himself. He took several calming breaths, centering himself so he could speak properly.
"Leave the kid alone, Bulstrode."
Millicent whirled, one hand still on the younger girl, her other had her wand out.
"What?" she relaxed when she saw who it was. "Oh, it's only you, Ducky. Why don't you run along and play with all your reject friends? This doesn't concern you."
"Yes, it does," Drake stepped forward, wand raised. He glared at Millicent warningly.
"I said mind your own business, Ducky! Before I give you a duck bill to go with your
duck brain."
"I don't think so," Drake hissed, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "The name's
Drake, Bulstrode. Insectsortia!" There was a flash of light from his wand. Then Millicent was covered in all kinds of
creepy crawling insects.
"Ahhh! Get them OFF me! Get them OFF!" She was waving her wand frantically and
jumping up and down, screaming. She ran up the corridor, still screeching.
Mercy Hawkins gazed at Drake in awe. "Wow! That was the best spell I ever saw!"
Drake smiled at her. "She won' t be bothering you again. Why don't you go and put
those cakes away in your room?"
"I will. Thanks! My name's Mercy."
"Drake Lockwood." He watched her go down the corridor, then followed at a discreet
distance, making sure none of Millicent's friends were lying in wait for her.
Soon Brittany Marsh and her band of Slytherins found it hard to target their usual
victims, thanks to Drake's intelligence gathering. He found out all of the gang's schedules and listened to them talk about who they were going to extort next. He in turn passed this information on to one of the other S. R.'s, who used it to prevent Marsh or Hathaway from hurting their victim.
The younger first and second years soon found themselves with an S. R. escort to class, sometimes two or more, depending on who was nearest. Marsh's court soon learned not to underestimate Tricia, Kit, Drake, or Mel. The S. R.'s were faster to draw wands, knew more spells, and used teamwork to devastating effect. More than one of Marsh's band came out worst in a confrontation now, and they were soon wary whenever Arista or one of her friends showed up to watch over a younger wizard.
They were dangerous even without wands, a fact that Mel demonstrated ably on Jack
Montague, who was threatening to hang Amber Blakely's cat up by its tail from a tree.
"Oy, Montague! Pick on someone your own size, you bloody crackhead!" Mel yelled
at the Slytherin, who was holding the cat by the scruff of its neck and laughing.
"Don't hurt my kitty!" Amber wailed.
"He ain't gonna, kid." Mel said firmly. "Put the cat down, Montague."
"Or what? You gonna fall on me? Staggering Melly, laughingstock of the whole school. Clumsier than an elephant." Montague brayed.
Mel didn't waste any more time arguing. She brought her hand down in an overhand
chop on Montague's wrist. He yelled and released the cat, who ran away and was chased by Amber.
"You Southwark hag, you nearly broke my wrist!" Montague snarled. He went to reach for his wand.
Mel reached out, grabbed his arm and tossed him over her shoulder. He landed on the ground with a thud. When he went to get up, she used a spinning kick and knocked him flat on his behind again. "Next time, pick on someone your own size, Montague! All right?"
Montague got up and ran away, limping and swearing.
"Huh. Kicked his arse." Mel said, dusting off her hands.
Of course, even with Drake's information, the S. R.'s couldn't be everywhere at once,
especially since they were only five and Brittany and her gang were at least twice that number. So the Slytherin gang did manage to beat up or scare some students, but on the whole, most of them had learned that confronting one or more S.R.'s was not going to be pleasant for them. Nor did the S. R.'s win every skirmish, but those they lost were minor ones and they soon gained a reputation, mostly among the younger students, of protectors.
A month passed, and Arista went on the promised shopping trip with her father, who
rewarded her for her good behavior by buying her the promised Fantastic Beasts Compendium.
"See? I told you I could do it, Dad."
Severus favored her with a rare smile. "This once, I'm happy to be proven wrong."
Then he added, "Now don't spend all your time reading, Arista, and neglect your studies."
She rolled her eyes at his admonishment. "Dad, I never do that."
"Just checking," he said and smirked at her.
She silently thanked God that he didn't know what else she was doing besides studying and reading.
All their battles were fought right under the noses of the teachers. Arista, mindful of
Snape's warning, was very careful to never get caught fighting with another student. She and her friends had the reputation for being excellent students and she did not want that tarnished. Then too, the whole school was focused on the Triwizard Tournament.
Reporters, especially Rita Skeeter from the Prophet, were everywhere, trying to
interview students. The whole thing about Arista being the Girl Who Healed was unearthed again, and she endured two interviews along with Neville, before she began spending half of her free time avoiding the reporters.
"Now I know why people call them newshounds," she groaned to Kit one day, when
they were in the library studying. "Because they follow a trail until they find you. If I hear
somebody mention the Longbottoms' miraculous recovery again, I'm going to start
screaming."
Professor Snape soon put a stop to that, however. One morning, Arista rushed into his classroom gasping for breath, her books half-falling out of her bag.
"Arista! What on earth is going on?"
"Quick, are they coming?"
"They?"
"The reporters from the newspapers," she clarified. "I think they followed me down
here. They keep asking me for details on the Longbottoms, Dad, and they won't accept what I've already given them. And then one of them mentioned Nightshade."
The Nightshade case was something that was kept very quiet, at the request of the U.S. Magical Association, and they almost never discussed it. Colin and Jenna had never put the real story in their official report to Hamilton, all the Department of Defense knew was that a Dark Hunter had killed Nightshade. They never knew that the Dark Hunter was Amelia Amarotti, returned from the dead one last time to save the lives of her child and her husband. That was one secret Arista, Severus, and the Flynns would take to their graves.
"Stay here," Severus ordered. "I'll take care of the vampire press." He strode to the
door of the dungeon and stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, a forbidding glower on his face.
The first reporter came panting down the corridor, glasses askew on his spindly nose, camera banging on his chest. "Ah, Professor Snape! Was wondering if you could arrange an interview for me with your daughter, I'd like to discuss—"
"Absolutely nothing."
"Excuse me?"
"My daughter is no longer available for interviews. She is too busy studying for final
exams, and I'm going to ask you once and only once to leave her alone. She has told you all you need to know about the Longbottom affair. Now get out of my dungeon, you're disrupting my class."
"But sir!"
"Out! Now. Or I won't be responsible for the consequences." Snape growled, giving
the man his meanest glare.
The reporter quickly decided discretion was the better part of valor, and turned and ran out of the dungeon hastily.
A/N: So what do you think of the SR's and their new skill? And you'll see how they use it next chapter against an insane monster.