| | Chapter Twenty-Four: Halloween of DOOM!Without warning, it was Halloween.
Stephen hadn't learned a thing about magic. He hadn't really paid attention in the classes, and to be fair, he didn't have a wand to work with anyways. The only classes he could theoretically excel at were History ofMagic (which was basically Bill Nye meets Ben Stein on steroids) and Potions. Both required opening large books with information he didn't care to give space in his brain to. Instead, to pass the time in class, he drew pictures with his quill. He would spend most of the time either scribbling on his parchment or watching the professor to make sure he wasn't being seen. Once, he was noticed by Shore (or maybe more times than that), but he didn't seem to mention it. Nevertheless, Stephen kept his guard up.
When he wasn't doodling, he was thinking; thinking about the Headmaster'sToothbrush. What was it? What did it do? What did it have to do with him?
These were the question boggling Stephen's mind ever since his first week at Hogwarts when he had attempted to escape the grounds. He had made his way deep into the heart of the Forbidden Forest... then what? After that, Buddy told him about the toothbrush. He said it explained everything. Well, nothing made sense at the moment. Nothing explained why he was at Hogwarts at all!
He had been kidnapped... Someone had followed him (he had decided) to the artifacts shop and tried to kill him. Why? Did that have to do with the toothbrush too? It all seemed so unrealistic. It didn't connect the puzzle pieces, it just scattered them around.
Stephen might have eventually come to disbelieve everything the elf had told him had he not gone to speak to Professor Gilmore that weekend. He had sought the professor in his personal study to find him. He sat, bespectacled,in a fuzzy, brown armchair carefully peering at a book titled "Charms of the Far East" by Lin Ho Mun. Upon seeing Stephen, his attention was instantly seized. Quickly, he rose to bring the boy to another chair. He brushed aside a couple of books and sat him down.
"My dear boy, what a joy to see you," he murmured as he returned to his seat. "How is my favorite Hufflepuff, hmm?"
Stephen wasn't one for small talk and was dying to talk about what he wasn't telling anyone else.
"I wanted to ask if you knew anything about the Headmaster's Toothbrush," he said, bluntly.
Stephen could tell by his expression that the professor was startled. Regathering his thoughts, he made another attempt.
"I mean, let me explain," Stephen began. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened Wednesday night... You know, when I tried to...well..."
"Escape," the professor finished for him. He wasn't smiling, but he didn't appear stern either. He was merely attentive.
"Yeah... The thing is, the reason I ran away... No one's really telling me what's going on! No one's giving me any answers, and it's really driving me nuts."
"Ar, it's drivin' me nuts!" growled Gilmore, sounding like a pirate. He laughed afterward with a sigh. "Ah... my favorite joke. Pirate with a steering wheel in his... (cough) Forget it... Please... continue."
"Uh..." Stephen attempted to recover from this. "Well this... I've been informed by someone that a toothbrush arrived at Hogwarts the same night I did. I figured you'd know something about it. You were the one who removed that memory charm from my neck."
"Good memory," admired Gilmore. "Yes, I was instructed to remove it, but I wasn't told why. They're very powerful and can only be approved for use by a Ministry of Magic official. I have it right here..."
He picked up the thick gold collar off his desk. The sight of it seared the skin around Stephen's neck. It had apparently kept his name a secret while he wore it.
"Why is my name being kept a secret?" Stephen asked.
"That I don't know, to be honest," said Gilmore. "I can only assume it's because they don't want people to know that you are here. Don't- Don't ask 'who' is after you or 'why', because I either A) can't tell you, or B) don't know, so why bother? Hmm?"
Stephen sighed. This was getting him nowhere.
"Shore knows though."
Stephen sat up.
"Shore knows? Knows what?"
"Shore knows why your name can't be said, Stephen," said Gilmore, a twinkle in his eye.
Stephen paused. "Is this a hint?"
"Goodbye, Stephen. It was nice talking with you."
And without another word, Gilmore mysteriously returned to his book, leaving Stephen to let himself out.
Over the last month, this conversation puzzled Stephen even more than the toothbrush. He was being inextricably driven towards a secret it seemed only Snape knew... yet Professor Shore seemed to be another piece to the puzzle. Yes, it made sense. He remembered Shore warning him over and over not to mention his name to anyone, even at Hogwarts, where apparently it didn't matter. He also seemed to act differently around Stephen than the other professors did.
Stephen spent very little time with any of the Hufflepuffs. This made Eggs very sad, but he was thankful for his other friends too. Carol rightly sank into a general acceptance of her Hufflepuffitude, that is, until she got a greeting card from her uncle Charlie (which had obviously been lost in the mail for awhile) that had a picture of a lion on it reading “Congratulations! You’re in Gryffindor!” She has not been seen since. Jenn took to picking on Malfoy instead of her sister, and Kim had found new friend amongst the Slytherins, particularly JR. Malfoy was not jealous.
And so, it was Halloween.
"Already?" asked Eggs, when Larry reminded him as they all sat around the feast that night. "What happened to September?"
"It died," said Jannese. "It was murdered by schoolwork."
"In the library!" cheered Kyle. "With the candlestick!"
Jenn slipped some pumpkin juice to Ruby while Malfoy scowled at them from a distance at the Gryffindor table. Kimberly Weasley was sitting with her sister today, playing with the Thought Catcher and talking about
boys. Jason and Kenny shot Wizard Trivia back and forth. Stephenwas sitting in the middle of all of this, enjoying none of it.
"Hey!" said Jannese, slapping him on the back. "You're a depressing sight. Why don't you party for once instead of moping around for the rest of the school year."
Normally, escapism was something Stephen would quickly retire himself to, but his mind was full. He ate for the sake of eating and continued to think about Gilmore, Buddy, Snape, Hagrid, Shore... It felt like he was staring at a puzzle that had all its pieces, yet nothing fit together yet.
"Oh my gosh," giggled Jenn. "Look at Professor Snape!"
Stephen turned, only because his mind had been thinking of that very person. At first he didn't see the Headmaster, then realized that he was sitting in Professor Ganas's lap. They were both singing.
"He really is a poor headmaster," said Scott Larson, who sat next to Jannese (who was next to Stephen). "Everyone seems to think so."
Stephen watched the professor laugh. Behind that drunken grin, he thoughthe could see the professor he'd seen sitting in his office, head hunched over, desperate for rest. That's what he gets, thought Stephen, for keeping me here. I hope he gets all the trouble he can handle out of me.
Suddenly, the double doors of the Great Hall burst open. Professor Shore came sprinting into the room, panic written across his face. Dramatically, he stopped, his eyes large and shaking. Taking a deep breath, he spread his arms wide in terror.
"MOOSE!" he screamed.
He quickly scampered down the hall, robes held up in his hands, running for the head table.
"IN THE DUNGEON!" he cried.
Murmurs arose across the room. Some of the professors stood up. Snape glanced upward with a blank smile.
"Moosey-moose-moose! Moose!!!" quivered Shore, who suddenly tripped and fell flat on his face. He lay still, unmoving, then he began his incessant wailing anew. "Oaawwwwhhhh... Mooooosee...."
His head lifted slightly, meeting the headmaster's eyes. "Thought you ought to know." With this, he collapsed, apparently unconscious.
The room was alert. Hagrid raised his arms. "OK, nobody panic."
[insert sound of room erupting in screams]
There was a rush for the door. Professor Granger-Weasley attempted to indicate proper evacuation protocol to the students, which had no effect. Snape did nothing at first, returning to his chair as if to ignore the event.
Suddenly, a low bellowing echoed from somewhere in the halls of Hogwarts. The panic grew larger.
Stephen simply sat where he was. What... was up with the moose?
"Come on, SB," said Eggs, taking his arm. "A moose is only the most feared creature in the entire magical world!"
Stephen followed everyone, dangling by his arm in the manner of a ragdoll. The crowd rushed in four different directions, to each of the common rooms. A couple of students used magic to move faster. Unfortunately, most of the other students had either forgotten that they had magic or were shooting stunning spells in random directions, hitting other students in the process. Stephen stepped over a couple of inert bodies as they madetheir way down the winding staircase. Some of the older students grabbed the tree branch that jutted up the middle of the corridor, sliding down it for part of the ways and leaping off it at the common room door. The fog continued to churn from the bottom of the pit, mysteriously black. To his surprise, Stephen saw elves running up and down the other side of the staircase, disappearing in and out of holes he hadn’t noticed before. Finally, they were all safely entering the common room. Stephen could see that it was pretty crowded around the smelly foyer, when suddenly, Eggs began to pull him in the opposite direction. “Eggs?” said Stephen. “I think you’ve forgotten which way is forward.” “Carol isn’t here!” said Eggs, anxiety in his voice. “She must still be in the girl’s bathroom!” “OK, seriously. Don’t we have any bathrooms down here?” “Ours smells like parsnips,” Eggs replied simply. “We might have to use magic to fight off the moose.” “We don’t have to fight off any moose!” Stephen yelled incredulously. “Moose are not dangerous!” Eggs paused. “Don’t you mean ‘Mooses are not dangerous’? “No, moose is the plural of moose.” “Then what is mooses, then?” “Nothing! Look, I’m good at grammar. Just go with it.” Eggs suddenly pointed in horror. “Moose!” “There you go,” Stephen said satisfactorily. “No!” yelled Eggs. “Real moose!” Stephen looked up to see a large, hairy, antlered and hoofed land mammal staring them down at the top of the stairwell. It bellowed ferociously. “OK, see,” Stephen began. “I’ve never actually SEEN a moose. I’ve only seen them on television in nature shows. They eat, like, grass and trees, right?” “No!” Eggs cried. “They devour hopes and dream, and drink the blood of male virgins!” “CRAP!” they both yelled together. The terrifying ungulate bellowed again. “Eggs, you’re a real wizard,” yelled Stephen. “Use magic!” “I’m- I’m too scared!” cried Eggs. “I can’t move!” “Oh, for heaven sakes. Give ME your wand then, and I’ll try something.” “W-we’re not supposed to share wands!” “Oh, whatever, I’ll find it.” Stephen was about to shuffle through Eggs’s robes when suddenly… “Children!” yelled Severus Snape. “Step away from the moose!” The moose turned and looked at the headmaster, licking his lips. “The only thing that a moose loves more than a male virgin is an OLD male virgin. Now get to the common room now!” The boys quickly ran in the opposite direction. “What- what the hell? You stupid Hufflepuffs, go the other way!” They left the headmaster to fend off the moose. They made their way to the girls bathroom to find Carol inside it, but where they expected to find a girl bawling in a toilet, they found her sitting on the sink counter next to a pile of comic books. “Oh, hey guys,” she smiled. “What are you doing in the girls bathroom?” “Carol!” yelled Stephen. “I thought you were in here crying all the time?” “What? For a month?”said Carol. “No way, this is where I hide my entire comic collection. I could live here if I didn’t have to eat.” Eggs’s eyes were wide with adoration, staring at the humongous pile of comics and the promise of more. “I’ll live with you here. We can live a comic book future, just the two of us.” Carol got up off the counter. “OK, weird. I’m not living with someone in a bathroom. So, what’s going on?” They stepped out of the bathroom and immediately stopped. Staring back at them were twenty, sixty, no less than one-hundred blood-thirsty moose! “It’s the night of the living moose!” cried Eggs. The other two had lost all the moisture in their mouths. The crowd of deadly moose bellowed in unison. They covered the entire hallway, even up the nearby stairs. They were eating the paintings off the walls and scraping their antlers on the stone. “Now, when Shore said ‘moose in the dungeon’,” Eggs wondered. “Did he mean one moose, or a hundred moose?” TO BE CONTINUED… |
