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| Chapter Twenty-Five: Halloween of... Awesome?CONTINUED!
"What do we do, Eggs?" cried Carol, her back to the door.
The three of them had locked the door to the girls bathroom. Outside, there was undoubtedly a horde of potentially dangerous moose. Occasionally, the door knocked with such a force it felt like the lock would give any second. They didn't dare move.
"Geez, even on holidays you wizards manage to find ways to threaten my life!" complained Stephen. "At least this time I'm not convinced of my doom. We can probably hold up in here until this is over."
"Who let all these moose in?" asked Eggs. "Don't they have anti-moose jinxes?"
"I don't think this door will last!" moaned Carol.
"Don't you wizards have any spells that can protect us?"
Carol pulled out her wand, absentmindedly she started to wave it. "I don't know. The only thing Gilmore's taught us is 'alohomora'.
Only a moment later, they heard behind them the faint click of the door to the girls bathroom unlock.
In another brief moment, they exchanged exhaustive glances before leaping away from the door. Not a moment later the door had busted off its hinges, revealing the violent rage of an angry moose.
"Save me, SB!" yelled Eggs, climbing up on the sink counter.
"You're the wizard!"
"I'm not a very good wizard! I'm only eleven!"
"Well, crap!"
Soon the room was amuck with moose. They climbed on top of a cabinet to get higher.
"OK, let's think, there has to be some spells that can help us," said Carol as she tried to keep her shoes from being nibbled on.
"It's too late," said Stephen. "We're doomed. We have no chance."
"Um, I can't think of any charms," sighed Eggs. "I spent all of our study time using the internet on Larry's computer... Wait! I think I have an idea!"
"Quick, Eggs!" cried Carol.
Suddenly, Stephen was lifted up in the air by the antlers of a rather large moose. He clung to them for dear life.
"Why does God hate me?" complained Stephen.
"I- I think it works. I read about it on the internet..." Eggs raised his wand up at the ceiling and shouted, "Does-what-a-spider-canikus!"
Instantly, a jet of webbing shot out from the tip of his wand, sticking firmly to the ceiling.
"Help," Stephen yelled desperately, disappearing out the door on top of the moose.
"I'm coming, SB!" Eggs gripped his wand firmly with both hands and swung. "Hang on, Carol!"
The two of them swung gallantly after their friend, but as they neared the door, their swing halted and reversed direction.
"Quick, Carol," shouted Eggs. "Hand me your wand!"
At the second attempt, he yelled the spell anew at the precipice of his swing. A second shot of webbing emerged from Carol's wand, sticking to a chandelier outside the bathroom, and away they went.
"This is awesome!" yelled Eggs. "I'm a spider-wizard!" He continued double-dueling his wands.
"Who came up with this spell?" yelled Carol, clinging onto Eggs with her life.
They made their way across the tall corridor, swing by swing, after Stephen. Huge amounts of moose stampeded beneath them. Their pursuit carried them to the entrance hall. There they saw the Hogwarts professors fending off the moose invasion.
"This is amazing!" shouted Professor Potter as the students swung over his head. "This is exactly like what happened in my first book!"
"This is NOTHING like what happened in your stupid book!" shouted Professor Granger-Weasley, stunning a nearby moose.
"Take that, you ugly creature," cried Snape, jabbing a moose with a shot of magic. He took pause as Stephen sidled by, above the frenzy.
"Professor! Save me!" cried Stephen. But before the baffled professor could do anything, the moose stopped abruptly, sending Stephen hurling through the air. The blow of him hitting the ground knocked the wind out of him, leaving him motionless on the floor.
"(cough) Wh- where... what?"
The moose was gone. Stephen was in an empty corridor. He quickly got up and slammed the door behind him.
Where was he? He recognized it. This was the passageway that led to the staircases that moved on their own. In general, he avoided them as they were only necessary in getting to the towers, where he didn't have any classes. But these staircases led to the Headmaster's tower, and Stephen had a devious thought.
Now's my chance, he thought. I can try and find that toothbrush!
With Snape behind him and presumably no one in front, Stephen bolted up the staircase, leaving his friends swinging about somewhere in the castle. Up and up he went until he came to the door that read "Headmaster's Chamber" in embossed gold, but the door (normally locked) was ajar.
Stephen froze. Was someone in here? Perhaps someone had the same idea he did. And maybe that someone was the same person who wanted him dead.
Curiosity upon him, he reached for the door. He came to a winding staircase, which he ascended precariously. It was strangely quiet, though he wasn't sure why this seemed odd. He was now in the familiar chamber with the fireplace and the headmaster's desk, photographs all over the walls surrounding it. As usual, papers were strewn about, but there was another odd thing. The photographs normally held people, but they were all mysteriously empty!
Suddenly, he heard a noise above him. Another chamber above this one, perhaps? Stephen's curiosity was overwhelming. He had to know more about the toothbrush. It must be close!
Yes! With enough searching, he noticed a secret passage to the left of the desk, already open. Someone was definitely here already but had probably gone. He ascended yet another staircase. He passed a window that observed the quidditch grounds where Snape had seen him whirling on his broom. Still, everything was so quiet... then...
"Damn!" grumbled a voice that was muffled and distant. "Another barrier! The elf lied to me!"
Stephen locked his body against the stone wall. He was possibly mere feet from his would-be-murderer. He could hear footsteps coming towards the staircase. He quickly bolted down the stairs, unconcerned with whether he was heard or not. He didn't know where else to run, so he made his way back to the entrance hall.
When he got there, there were considerably less moose. Eggs and Carol were now hanging immobile from the center of the room. Apparently, his spell range was too short to reach any of the walls.
"Does anyone have a helicopter?" Eggs yelled. "Oh look! SB is safe!"
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Fifty-million points were taken from Hufflepuff that day, putting them at negative four-hundred ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and eighty-one points. The news of this did not bode well for our heroes, who quickly became the most unpopular Hufflepuffs in Hogwarts. Carol's comic book collection was confiscated, Eggs was forced to scrub all of his webbing off the ceilings, and SB had to do something even worse...
...take notation for Harry Potter's seventh book.
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| Halloween Special: Samples from "Andrew Warner Sings the History of Magic"On the first day of Halloween a wizard gave to me: A scar that is shaped like lightning. On the second day of Halloween a wizard gave to me: Two buried parents, And a scar that is shaped like lightning. On the third day of Halloween a wizard gave to me: Three angry relatives, Two buried parents, And a scar that is shaped like lightning. On the fourth day of Halloween a wizard gave to me: Four colored houses, Three angry relatives, Two buried parents, And a scar that is shaped like lightning. On the fifth day of Halloween a wizard gave to me: Five snogging teens! Four colored houses, Three angry relatives, Two buried parents, And a scar that is shaped like lightning. On the sixth day of Halloween a wizard gave to me: Six boring classes… … Can you feel the angst tonight? No one understands… I’m all alone, and everyone hates me. I’ve lost all my friends. Can you feel the angst tonight? I saw Cedric die… I totally should be fighting Voldemort, I killed my godfather when I tried. … Somewhere out there, beneath that pale moonlight, Grindelwald’s thinking of me, And I still have his thong… … She’s a super freak, super freak! Reads papers up-side-down. She’s a very creepy girl, She paints her friends up on her ceiling. When she’s bored she says her thoughts out loud, I think her eyes are… green? … Show me the meaning of being lonely. So many words for the lonely Snape, It’s hard to be so cold and heartless, We were good friends, I got really angry and then… I walk the chilly Hogwarts halls, Annoying children, I’m feeling colder. Our memories are hotter, but… You look like Harry Potter! Show me the meaning of being lonely, Is this the feeling, I’ll always deal with? Tell me why you married that guy with the glasses! I wish he wasn’t in my… classes… HAPPY HALLOWEEN! And don’t forget to come up with your own songs for Andrew’s Christmas release! | | |
| 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… | | |
| Chapter Twenty-Three: Elf Exposition! Gasp!All of the other students were getting up when Stephen entered the Hufflepuff common room No Hufflepuff tunes were resonating through the wood yet, so the sight of early-risers surprised him. He guessed that it made sense for so many students to get up early. They were probably just as eager as he was to escape the noise.
Instead of joining Larry and Eggs in the dormitory, he flopped down on a big, frumpy sofa by the fireplace, which seemed to burn magically. He was seeing a lot of fireplaces these days.
Stephen rubbed his temples. So the truth was out. The Headmaster was keeping him imprisoned here on orders from the Ministry. He kept wondering why, but he got this strange feeling that it had something to do with what had happened in the forest. What had happened in the forest? He tried to remember...
He could remember running... They were after him... They were keeping his name a secret for some reason, calling him 'SB'. But Shore had said that it didn't matter while he was at Hogwarts. If that was the case, then maybe they were trying to keep his name a secret from people outside of Hogwarts. That would explain...
Stephen's thoughts cleared instantly. Professor Gilmore had taken the memory charm off of his neck the morning after the sorting! If anyone could tell him what was going on, he could. But Charms wasn't until next week... What else? He dug into his memories, before Hogwarts, which had (amazingly) been only four days earlier. Buddy saved him from drowning when their boat capsized, but why did a magical boat capsize? And he had nearly died the day before in Diagon Alley... That night didn't seem to make sense either. Hagrid had said...
This is Barney the Badger saying, "Wake up, Hufflepuffs!"
A horrifying, friendly voice exploded into existence directly above Stephen's head. It sounded like a children's television mascot, only worse.
"Don't forget to brush your teeth and give all your Hufflepuff friends a BIIIIIIG HUG!"
The last of the early risers bolted for the door, giving Stephen a pitying look as they left.
"And now, a happy, happy Hufflepuff tune about asking your friends for help."
When you're down and feeling blue,
There's always friends who can help you.
You may believe that you're nothing but poo,
But lending a hand is what Hufflepuffs do.
La-lala-la-la, don't give up.
La-lala-la-la, please cheer up.
Don't be scared, it's an easy thing to do,
Ask your friends to help you get through.
Stephen asked himself why he was still listening and made his way up the log-carved steps to his rotating dormitory.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Maybe," thought Carol as she munched on a waffle. "The dragons had already started a fire inside the shop and there was some gunpowder nearby. That would explain the explosion."
Stephen had followed the cheery badger's advice and had started sharing in confidence with Eggs and Carol what had happened over the last week.
"I don't know," said Stephen, not having touched anything yet on his plate. "I don't remember seeing any fire before the explosion. I swear there was someone else in there."
"I don't think the Ministry would be doing anything wrong keeping you here," Eggs muttered, looking a little unsettled. "Maybe they're keeping you here for your protection."
Stephen snorted in disgust. He had nothing but distrust for authority at the moment, especially magical authority.
"No, that makes sense," said Carol, putting down her fork. "Maybe someone was there that night. Maybe someone has been trying to hurt you!"
"Oh, so I'm here because it's for my own protection, huh?"
"Precisely! Doesn't it seem odd that a magical boat malfunctions when it never has before, and dragons just happen to be there when you were in Diagon Alley at night."
"Hey, don't forget about the 'perfectly good' brooms that nearly killed me! It's been mortal peril practically every day."
"Well, Stephen, you could just be really bad at flying on broomsticks."
Eggs didn't say much. He had seemed a bit upset when Stephen reminded him of how he had ditched him at the inn. He just kept eating.
"I think I'm going to talk to Gilmore," Stephen decided. "He might be able to tell me why the Ministry thinks I'm so dangerous."
"Why would the Ministry think you were dangerous?" asked Carol. "I thought you were the one in danger."
Stephen hadn't told them about last night.
"Hey," Eggs interrupted suddenly. "What class do we have today?"
"Potions," said Carol. "With Professor Shore..."
"Oh, great," replied Eggs. He scratched his chin for a dramatic moment. "But why do I feel like there is something that I'm supposed to remember..."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Shore stood facing the window as the students shuffled in. He did not stir until they had all sat down.
"I am Shore, the Potions Master."
He let this settle in a bit. His eyes darted from one student to the other, his pose unwavering.
"I can teach you how to bottle dreams and cork fame. I can teach you how to stir the very core of reality. I can teach you how to find your center. But most importantly, I can teach you how to pass this class."
Stephen was glad that this class didn't require a wand. You know, because he HAD NONE.
"But before I begin, I have been required to make an announcement. From this day on, sharing one's wand with another student will no longer be permitted."
Stephen blinked. For a second, he thought that Shore had looked directly at him when he had said this, but he was looking at many other students. It was probably just his imagination.
They proceeded with the rest of the class. Shore kept glancing at Stephen, or at least it seemed this way to him, as if he was some sort of odd presence. It gave Stephen the impression that he wasn't welcome. They spent the rest of the day studying, far away from the Hufflepuff Common Room. Stephen's school workload was slowly overcoming his anxiety and curiosity about the night before.
Friday they had Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Potter, who was even more enthusiastic than ever about his books. Apparently, he was nearing the end of his seventh and final chronicle. He went off on a long-winded exposition of the book's plot, dramatically ending the tirade by posing the question: "Severus Snape: Friend or Foe?"
Carol, of course, felt like bringing up the fact that Snape was currently the Headmaster of the school and wondered if he could be liable for defamation charges. The professor suddenly experienced an incredible mood swing and was cranky for the rest of the day, yelling at the students for not 'understanding him'. Needless to say, they learned very little about the Dark Arts but a lot about Harry Potter's violent angst.
"Why should we have to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts if there isn't any Voldemort out there?" grunted Malfoy as they made their way outside.
"Because," explained Carol, who had yesterday answered all of Shore's Pop Quiz questions correctly. "You never know when the next Lord Voldemort is around the corner. Constant vigilance!"
"Whatever," muttered Stephen. "I could use some constant videogames right now."
"Mr. Bobbett!" came a faint whisper from behind a suit of armor. Stephen paused for a moment. He thought he recognized the voice.
"Hey, SB," said Eggs. "Wanna go do something outside?"
"Um..." said Stephen. "You guys go on ahead. I think I left my... pot... in potions."
"OK. Hey, Carol. Do they call it 'potions' because you use a pot-in class? Ooh, or maybe because you use 'potent' ingredi..."
There voices trailed off as Stephen turned expectantly towards the familiar big-eyed face on top of a small sailor suit. Buddy was peaking out from behind the suit of armor.
"I am here... Stephen Bobbett... to warn you."
"Warn me?" Stephen asked agitatedly. "What other impending dangers am I still unaware of? And... how do you know my name?"
Buddy's eyes grew wide. "I know many things, Mr. Bobbett. But I... (erk) -shouldn't say..."
Suddenly, his arms and legs all began to shake at once. His eyes darted left and right as if to look for some kind of relief. In a panicked frenzy, Buddy suddenly pulled from his pocket a small tape recorder, which, once pressed, played the serene sound of The Four Seasons. Slowly, Buddy's eyelids fell to a normal level and his stiff frame melted. With a soft 'click', Buddy returned the tape recorder to his pocket and looked back up at Stephen as if this was completely normal.
"Hehe, we House Elves have a tendency to be slightly masochistic, er, we tend to hurt ourselves when we are doing something we ought not to do. The music helps."
"I bet it does," Stephen stared incredulously at the creature. He was a real freak show alright, just like the rest of the lot.
"The point is," Buddy began again. "You're in danger here at Hogwarts, and it has to do with the toothbrush, Mr. Bobbett."
"What toothbrush? You keep talking about a toothbrush," Stephen asked.
"The one that is hidden somewhere... Ack! I cannot say it!" The elf clutched the side of his jacket but was able to retain himself. " (pant) All I can tell you... (pant) is what it is, and nothing more. I should have been back at Hogsmeade yesterday, but I stayed here because I needed to see you."
"Why?" Stephen asked, highly suspicious of everything that was being told to him after the night in the Forbidden Forest.
"Because, sir. The secret! The secret! You are the one... Oh! I cannot say!"
Five minutes of baroque passed.
"Just tell me about this stupid toothbrush," sighed Stephen after Buddy had removed himself from the lotus position.
"The toothbrush..." Buddy began. "... is a powerful magical artifact. It belonged to the Dark Lord himself. Yes, it was the toothbrush of Voldemort!"
Stephen looked up. For some reason, he subconsciously expected thunder.
"But it is no ordinary toothbrush," warned Buddy. "It contains powerful magic, just like all of the Dark Lord's precious items. It has a secret power of which I can not speak."
"Okay," Stephen had listened long enough. "But how does this have anything to do with me? I'm some Muggle kid whose been kidnapped. I've got nothing to do with this Voldemort guy."
Buddy's ears lifted slightly. "Ah, but did you not wonder WHY you have been brought here, why you've been treated like some sort of prisoner, like someone SPECIAL?"
Stephen took the use of this word to make him sound like the kid in preschool who ate paste.
"The toothbrush is the answer, Mr. Bobbett."
"Okay, whatever. You said I was in danger? From what?"
"Your life is in danger. Someone has already tried to take your life three times."
Something in Stephen's head clicked. Buddy was right. The fire, the boat, the broomstick... Those didn't seem like accidents at all! Was someone trying to kill him?
"Who?" Stephen asked furiously. "Who is trying to kill me?"
Buddy backed away cautiously, looking over his shoulder.
"No more questions. No more questions. I'll be at Hogsmeade. Just be aware, Mr. Bobbett. Pay attention for the signs, and you will slowly understand everything..."
Without another word, the elf had vanished as if he hadn't been there at all. Had he been there at all? Stephen looked down the hall and back toward the grounds outside. The vision of a toothbrush was all he had to cope with the terror of a killer at his back.
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| Chapter Twenty-two: A Meeting with SnapeThe crackling fire was mesmerizing. Stephen liked fire. He especially liked fire when he was soaked to the bone with cold rain water. No, that wasn’t true, he liked to play with fire more, but right now just being near to fire was sufficient. He focused on the dancing flames, trying to block out the events of the day from his mind. So much had happened that it was hard to believe that it had all happened in one day. His head began to throb again just thinking about it so for the thousandth time he decided not to. “Eeek a cheek squeeek squeek!” Bunnymort, who was still perturbed about something, landed on his perch beside SB. Stephen jumped and clutched the blanket around his shoulders tighter at the sight of the creature. What the crap is that? Stephen thought to himself, pressing himself deeper into the chair cushions. Suddenly, the large door to the room opened with a loud WHACK! Stephen turned away from the strange creature, peaking over the back of the chair. Severus Snape strode into the room, his black robes still soaked with water, clinging to his sallow frame, his boots squeaking loudly with each step. The headmaster glanced up at Bobbett and slammed the door behind him with a simple flick of his wrist. Striding silently across the room, he then plunked himself down into the large chair behind his desk. An awkward silence soon followed. Snape remained in his chair, his black hair hanging over his eyes like a wet curtain, head bowed. Stephen remained in his chair, frozen, peaking over the back of the chair, afraid to move, his head still throbbing inside. After awhile Stephen began to think that Snape had forgotten that he was there or fallen asleep or both. “Ummmm excuse me…headmaster?” Stephen had finally mustered up enough courage to say. Snape did not look up. His voice sneered through his teeth. “What?” Stephen wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “Well you told me to stay here until you got back and now you’re back, so…can I go?” This was Stephen’s first encounter with Snape. Since he had first started school he had heard a few rumors about the headmaster and how much he hated children so Stephen was really hoping that this encounter would be brief. “No,” was all Snape said and then the awful silence returned. Stephen rolled his eyes, mouthed a silent “okay” and returned his gaze to the fire. A few moments passed. Suddenly, a spell shot past Stephen’s shoulder and put out the fire that had becomes SB’s only comfort. “Come over here.” Snape hissed evenly. SB stood up slowly still startled by the spell and approached the headmaster’s desk. Stephen sat down in the oversized green leather chair opposite Snape. “Okay,” Snape began, his voice deep and his eyes narrowed “so here’s the thing… a dark wizard heard a prophecy about you. And so he decided to kill your parents, and he tried to kill you but couldn’t and that’s how you got that mark on your forehead.” Stephen instinctively looked upwards towards the mole on his forehead that he had had all his life. Snape continued, “And now the Dark Lord…er… wizard is wanting to finish you off so you are being kept here for your own safety.” Snape finished in a sort of rehearsed drone. Brief silence. Then… “Ummm… isn’t that the plot for the Harry Potter books?” Snape shrugged his shoulders expectantly. “You’ve read the books then.” “Actually, no. I’m American. But I’ve seen the movies.” The headmaster rolled his eyes and stood up. “Listen, Bobbett,” Stephen hated being called by his last name. “Don’t leave this castle again, or you will have to deal with me.” “But...” Stephen began to protest when the door behind him opened and Kimberly Smith strode in flushed with anger. Snape’s head lifted slightly in surprise, but he didn’t even have a moment to respond before Kim was standing in front of his desk. “Headmaster Snape, I want to change houses.” She stated matter-of-factly. She glared at the headmaster with deep determination. Snape breathed in deeply. “What house are you in now?” “Gryffindor, and I hate everything about it, from the gigantic statue of Harry Potter in the common room to that git of a boy Thomas Malfoy.” For the first time Snape seemed to relax a bit and said, “Yes, dreadful house isn’t it? Very well, you will move your things to the Slytherin quarters.” “Great,” smiled Kim. “Thank you.” “Can I be in Slytherin too?” Stephen chimed in hopefully. “No!” Snape snapped violently then turned on Kim, “Now get out, and tell whoever let you in that I would like to speak with them later about my privacy!” He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Then he turned on SB, “You, get out as well.” “Wait a minute!” Stephen protested, his nerve finally returning. “I demand an explanation for all the crap that has happened to me tonight. Why am I being kept here against my will? Who the crap were those people chasing me down in the woods? And why the hell won’t you make me a Slytherin?!” It could have been his imagination but Stephen could swear that he saw the corner of Snape’s lip curl up in a smile. “I like you Bobbett. Now get out!” Snape swept around his desk, grabbed the neck of Stephen’s robes, lifted him up out of his chair and threw him out the door. The last thing that Stephen heard before the door slammed was Snape’s voice saying, “Don’t forget what I told you Bobbett. Leave the castle and answer to me.” Stephen stood silently for a moment outside of Snape’s office. Once more his head swirled with muddled memories of the previous rainy night. What had happened out there? What was it about him that was keeping him kept here? Had he really done magic last night or was it his imagination? He looked up at the open window before him. Warm light streamed over him. It was a new day. A new adventure. A new- “Hey!” grunted a small man in a big pointy hat standing next to him. “Are you done then? Can I go in?” Stephen awoke from his daydreaming. To his left was a long line, it seemed, of people waiting to see the Headmaster. He followed it down the hall to see a few professors along with some odd characters who seemed to want a word with Severus Snape. Stephen felt a hint of sympathy of the professor. It seemed that he had a lot on his plate. “Hello, Mr. Bobbett.” Stephen paused as he began down one of the steps. It was the elf he had met on the Hogwarts Express. “Hello, er…” “Buddy,” the elf finished, his large eyes looked up at him between large bat-like ears. He held a briefcase under his arm. Apparently, the elf was at the back of the line to visit Snape. “What are you doing here?” Stephen asked. “Ah, well, I’m here on business for the coalition,” he replied, patting his briefcase. “We’d like the Headmaster to make an appearance at our rally in the spring. There’s lots of preparation for it.” Stephen remembered the class he didn’t attend about House Elf Rights. It all seemed very political to him. “Didn’t you used to work for, uh, Carol’s dad?” Stephen asked. The elf smiled. “Yes, I still work for Mr. Weasley, but I’ve been given a reprieve. I’ll be settled down in Hogsmeade for the rest of the year.” “Ah,” said Stephen, not really taking it in. He was still absorbing the events of last night and didn’t really seem to have much energy. “Well, I’d better get going.” “Yes, well, I’ll be here for awhile from the looks of it,” said Buddy, glancing down the hall. “I, um, forgot to… thank you for saving my life…” Stephen muttered quietly. “Back at the lake… I nearly drowned.” Buddy’s eyes twinkled. “Of course, I was glad to help.” Stephen considered this for a moment. He had never actually thought over the events of that night, mysterious as they were. The boat had malfunctioned, he had nearly died, Professor Shore was there… “What were you doing there, anyways?” asked Stephen, now alert. Buddy ducked low all of a sudden. Quickly, he ushered Stephen a few steps down the stairs and motioned for him to come closer. “I can’t say anything right now, but I’d like to talk with you more,” Buddy whispered. “I have much to share with you. It’s about the Headmaster’s Toothbrush. Is there a time that we could possibly meet again?” | | |
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